Orlan

lol, I suffer from the same malady...You'd think no more schoolwork would make me write more...curses for gainful employment tiring you out!

Thanks for the comments Patrick! It actually makes me feed good (and bad at the same time) that you got so into the stories you put off the EXCITING WORLD OF SCHOOL WORK!!! to finish it up. I've read stories like that and I take it as the highest praise, so thank you!

Well thanks everyone so far for the advice, seeing your lists reminded me of things I've forgotten for others who enjoy reading. Neil Gaiman I've read a few books by him (I even watched the horrid TV series that Neverwhere was based off of...those crazy brits...it wasn't until Hogfather that I forgave them!) I've tried starting the Game of Thrones but I never really got into it. Kushiel has frightened me every time I've read the back of the book...that's a little further into deep introspective than I like with my entertainment. Carol Berg looks pretty interesting though. Dave Duncan I had forgotten about! I've read most all of his but the Man of His Word series with Rap was one of the best I remember. Rap was one of the first character's I ever read that did things just as I would have, and it is really what it says it is...a man of his word (eh naturally there's double meaning but still). I enjoyed that series tons. The second part was so-so like you said...and the King's Blades were....eh also so-so but still enjoyable. People mention Glenn Cook alot, and I have the first Black Company book up in my library but I always seem to skip over it. Maybe I'll put some more push into it. I tried Death's Gate Cycle but nevere got fully into it...maybe I'll give her a go again now that I'm old. I see Tad Williams listed and I think I have one of his somwhere...I really gotta finish cataloging my books. I played through the first Myst game along time ago when it first came out. Was the first game I pigheaded my way through til I solved it. It was nuts. I have read Ender's Game, but speaker of the dead turned me off. My old roommates have read his more recent novels and say that they start to make up for the Speaker of the Dead so I may try those again. And I saw Wicked on the stage (after I read the first book) and personally I like the musical better...but that's cause I loved the music LOL Others I forgot about that I've read: James Clemens is one who...well had a rough start. The Wit'ch Fire started with promise but once the main girl (in a coming of age novel mind you) ages enough so she can fall in love with one dude and it's not statutory...well...that sucked. Five books later...I finished the final book, threw it on the ground and said "FINALLY!" Sometimes I hate having to finish series that are bad. On the flip side, his new series seems to have promise (see Shadowfall). Jennifer Fallon is another one I kinda found from left field. I read through The Demon Child Series, and thought it was pretty good, a little cheezy...and then I read through The Second Sons Trilogy...and LOVED it. Dirk Provin is freaky good. And finally Trudi Canavan's two series. The Black Magician and The Age of the Five are both pretty good series. Thanks again for the help all, keep adding things if you think of anything...I'll eventually read through these all

I'll admit it, I'm a fan of fantasy. I read a lot, I mean a serious "a lot". I bought Jim Butcher's Latest Captain's Fury after work on the Tuesday it came out and was finished by bedtime...my usual bedtime I devour a good book, and my favorite, by far is fantasy. Unlike some of my "fantasy snob" friends I did NOT start with Lord of the Rings or Narnia...I instead started by going to a B.Dalton with my mother looking for some more reading material to occupy my bored ADD mind. Fortunately the guy who helped had read some books of his own and pointed me to The Diamond Throne by David Eddings. Honestly, thinking back on it, this was the best thing that could have happened to me. Eddings had, at that time, two quintets and 1 and a half trilogies out. They didn't stand a chance, and, after reading these, I figured out what I like about fantasy, the "gather ye forces" aspect of it. The big casts of characters, each with thier own specialties. The Warrior, thief, cleric...let's just say I played a bit of table top when I was younger...and I liked that too. So, along those veins I took up to other authors. I hopped over to Terry Brooks (I read all those by going to my local library...if you have a local library and are yet to be a member, do it now. Libraries are fantastic places to try-before-buy, and, even if a paperback is 8 bucks, it's good to know if you'll get your money's worth) and sent through more shannara then you can shake a stick at. Went through Feist, those were a little strange getting into but all in all, I enjoyed them. I picked up the Wheel of Time...though at that time I was in high school, where I was terribly lonely and an horrid outcast so when the main character got himself 3 ladies who had to share his affection...and were fine about it, yeah...it passed from the realm of regular-unbelieveable-fantasy into OH-YOU-JERK-fantasy I read through a great deal of the Dragonlance because, well let's face it, they're right up my alley Table Top Game gone novel? Yes please! I picked up Goodkind, read a few of them (I did laugh when I found out about the Wizard's First Rule though) but the lead female who's name escapes me now since I read them a long time ago, started to irritate me, so I kinda gave up on those. I'm not loyal to obnoxious characters. It was around this time that someone mentioned to me Terry Pratchett. I was a little gunshy about this since..."satirical comedic fantasy"? Oh c'mon that's BS. Well, uh, 36 Discworld books later and I'm buying the newones hardcover the day of (I keep trying to convince my young lady that we should name our first daughter Adora Belle...she's not taking the suggestion well). I would cast my vote for the Ventinari should he ever become real and run for office I did hit a slump in the more recent years, but I was kicked out of that when a friend of mine suggested R.A. Salvatore's Drizzit series. I had read Salvatore's Demon Stone series a LONG tim ago but never picked up the novels he was actually well known for More recently Drizz has become whiny and Catt has gotten to the obnoxious level, but I'll still wait for paperbacks of those to read them. I've gone through Ed Greenwood's various series, as well as some others in the FR series. I enjoy reading about worlds I'm familiar with, which is why I like series books. Most recently, though, it's been pick and choose. I'm finding out I've read alot of novels out there on the fantasy shelves and, unless I like Vampire romance novels (THERE'S SO FRICKING MANY OUT THERE AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!), which I don't, I'm getting limited choices. I picked up an older series that I've passed up before...Read through the Rhapsody series...uh...Fantasy and Romance....uh....uh....yeeeaaaahhh.... Though I LOVE Achmed and Grunthor...Rhapsody herselve made me want to gouge my eyes out from time to time. I can understand the heroine needing to be naieve in romance novels but there's a limit to naievete that even the basic 4 year old can pass. That being said I bought the rest of the books in the series and have them in my queue I picked up the Dresden Files books, by the prementioned Jim Butcher....wholly crap did I love them. I've never been the biggest fan of 1st person (be it shooter or otherwise) but these hit a home...and that was mainly because of my basic love of fantasy...the motley crew...the "gather ye forces" type...the buddy picture of the fantasy realm. This lead me into his other series, Codex Aleria, which, like I said, I devoured the latest book. I read through Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn and was WOWed by the world a "magic" system he created. The second book didn't deliver for me as much as the first one, but they still got one more to go. Now, why this long ranting, raving, directionless and jumping-here-to-there post? I'm looking for opinions. I figure there's one or two individuals here who may...on occasion, indulge themselves in a novel of fantastical portions...I'm looking for s'more series...novels...books..stuff to read. I tend to read more in the summer (a book on the hammock = OMGWIN) but i still need to fill the icy winters with things. So, that being said...what do you read? What do you enjoy? Where's the beef at? It shouldn't be that hard to get an idea what I'm partial too, you have any suggestions as to what I should try to pick up?

New Story! More Taleth! More Rysabella! More juggling mimes! Er....maybe 2 out of 3. If you're truly interested in reading the new one you might want to check out the old ones. Final Death Siege of Agregra Final Memories

[Note: This story contains characters previously seen in other stories, check the Critic's Corner thread for other "light" reading] Navien pushed off from the rock as he sped through the forest, his pursuit was going quickly but the criminal he was chasing was proving quite able. The forest itself whispered to him which way his prey went; Navien could feel his trail more than he could see it. Yet the forest would not do anything to hinder the man Navien followed, which the guard thought to be odd. Usually Navien would be able to bend the magic in the forest to his will, but not this time. Navien did not put too much thought into it right now, though; he had more important things to do. He was roused in the middle of the night by the alarm. The Seeress was in trouble. He and his twin sister Arela were the first of the Prophet’s Guard to reach her chamber. The two guards posted to the Seeress’ chamber were dead, and for a moment he feared the worse for the Seeress. Thankfully she was unharmed, though the assailant had indeed been in her room. The Seeress was awoken by the sound of breaking glass as he fled from the room. Navien took off moments after he arrived, his sister stayed with the seeress while the rest of the Prophet’s Guard were alerted. Have you caught to him yet, brother? Navien heard his sister ask, their magical link was there, though the further away they were the weaker it became. Navien paused for a moment on the branch of a tree he launched himself on to. He could hear the rustle of the forest before him and could make out the outline of someone. Yes, sister, he is almost within my grasp, Navien replied. He launched himself down the to forest floor and stepped up his pursuit. His prey was moving quickly, but not fast enough for Navien. The Seeress says he is to die. She does not want anyone to know about this attack on her, they might begin to doubt, Arela said. Navien nodded to himself. The seeress was correct, if others knew of a dissention against her holiness, things would go sour fast. Consider it done. Navien willed the forest open to him. The trees and bushes in front of him parted, opening up a path to his target. The forest did not seem to want to work against his target but the forest did respond to a call of one of its masters. Navien reached behind him and pulled a couple daggers from his bandolier and took focus on the flapping cloak of the man now clearly running before him. His target turned and glanced back at Navien but the guard was unable to get a good look at his face but he could sense the anxiousness. Fortunately for Navien that was the target’s outdoing. Navien launched the daggers at the man and watched with a smile as the man flinched his arms back and grabbed at where the daggers hit. The blow of the daggers and awkward motions caused the man to tumble, and then he vanished from view. Navien laughed to himself and launched himself to where the target last was. He stood on the Edge of Oblivion, looking down at a body falling down the edge of a cliff. He winced as he saw the body strike jagged rocks on the way down, his arms flailing and the sound of bones cracking. The Edge was a waterfall, several hundreds of feet in length that was deep in the heart of the forest. The body was falling down the side without the waterfall. For good measure, Navien drew two more daggers from his bandolier and sent them sailing after the now helpless tumbling corpse. The daggers struck hard, causing the body to go into a spin, smashing his head against a jutting rock. Navien had to wince again. “Ouch,” he said to himself. Navien watched the body finally drop the last distance into the deep pool far below the Edge with a large splash. He stood watching over the cliff as the ripples of the splash finally calmed down from the impact; the only churning of the water now was from the falling water. Navien did not see the body, but with what manner of beasts that lived in the churning water, he was not surprised. When enough time had passed to assure the guard that the man was truly dead, Navien smirked to himself and turned back, heading for his sister and the seeress. He’s done, Navien sent to his sister. Are you sure? Yes, Navien replied with a little chuckle to his sister. He’s not breathing anymore. * * * Rysabella stood on the churning water of the pool, staring up and watching the guard who had led their pursuit. Though, when she thought about it, she did not really stand, as much as exist a hands breath above the top of the water. She had been dead for many years and as much as she would like to delude herself from time to time, she has not done anything physical since then. Being dead also meant that the guard never noticed her just over the pool, watching him with calculating eyes. “He’s gone,” she said. There was a few moments of nothing until slowly, at the edge of the pool, a man rose out from the water, not breathing hard, despite the amount of time he was under the water. He was, in fact, not breathing at all. Breathing was something Taleth the Black gave up long ago. She glanced over at him as he pulled himself up to shore. His cloak was shredded as some unsuspecting water beast had attempted to make a lunch of him moments earlier but the assassin was not damaged in the least. He was, after all, immortal. Immortality did not hide the anxiety in his bearing as he looked up to the top of the cliff. It had been the fist time in a century that the assassin seemed anxious. “We have a problem,” Taleth said, his voice soft but steel. “What happened back there, Taleth?” Rysabella asked, turning her full attention to the assassin. She watched him look down in his hand. Taleth held the four daggers their pursuer had thrown at him. He felt their weight in his hand, hefting them and looking thoughtfully at the top of the cliff. “I don’t know,” Taleth said. “I really, don’t know.” Rysabella frowned thoughtfully at him. This was not like Taleth. Something was no in his control, and from an immortal assassin, control was everything. “What do we need to do now then?” Rysabella asked. She knew most likely what the answer was going to be, but sometimes it helped to talk things out loud. “Mellara needs to know,” Taleth said. “And we might as well tell Dayane,” he added as an afterthought. Rysabella agreed, Mellara, royal sorceress of the lands, needed to know about this as soon as possible. “We need a plan, Taleth,” Rysabella said. “This is big.” Taleth turned to Rysabella and she knew he was already working through a dozen possibilities in his head. “I know,” he said. “I’ll see what I can come up with; we have to get moving now though.” With that he pocketed the daggers and took off to the east. Rysabella spared once last glance at the top of the cliff and then she too vanished. * * * Queen Dayane Chromia, bearer of the Crown of Life, Keeper of the Kingdoms, considered one of the most powerful women in the known world, was once again, as usual, bored witless. It happened a lot to her even since she became the queen. The romantic ideals of the former rebel of what a queen’s life was like were whole heartedly shattered by a nearly abysmal reality. Never, in her wildest of wildest dreams could she imagine the reign of a ruler as so tedious. Every little detail needed her attention in some shape or another. She was at least able to have some help with them all. Her main help with the tedious matters now sat in his chair, a few steps down from the throne in the royal hall, the room Dayane spent most of her time in, listening to various people from various places talk about various things and then have her make various situations. Orthar, her grandfather and the man who raised her after her parents died in a blight, shook his head and continued arguing with the representative of the Duke of Joeant, a minor duchy from far south. She had appointed Orthar as her main advisor for more than the reason that he was her grandfather. Though his body may be aged, his mind was sharp as ever and back when they were trying to overthrow the old puppet king and his master the sorcerer Vestet, his advice was invaluable. To the other side of Dayane sat the actual most powerful woman in the known world. The Royal Sorceress Mellara watched the two men argue about fishing rights with cold calculating eyes, and though the sorceress looked to be paying rapt attention, Dayane knew she never spared more then a few thoughts on these matters, even if she told Dayane to. Her marvelous staff, topped with a golden serpent, was perched against the chair, not rolling away like it should but remaining perfectly still. The sorceress wore a dress in her normal deep violet and her brown hair, which hung down to her ankles when she was standing, was draped over her lap to keep it off the floor. Mellara caught the queen glancing at her direction and gave her a stern look and Dayane turned her attention back to her grandfather. “And there are many more fishermen out there that can claim those coasts,” Orthar was saying. “The edicts that have been put down have been placed there for the benefit of all the fishermen, the Duke knows this. Now I’ll not hear any more of this nonsense. If your Duke wishes to challenge the edicts he will come here himself and present his case, until then all complaints about the Duke monopoly of the coasts will be treated most seriously.” The representative tried to say something but Orthar held his hand up, halting him. “No more.” The representative looked flustered but, with a glance at the Queen’s disapproving look, seemed to think better of it. He bowed, stiffly, and then turned and left the royal hall. “What’s next on the agenda?” Dayane asked. Severath, captain of the Royal Guard, glanced down at a piece of parchment which listed the day’s agenda. Severath was a weathered soul if Dayane had ever met one. Small scars covered his body everywhere along with a large one that ran down his cheek and neck to the collarbone. His broadsword hung at his side, his hand seemed to always be in contact with the pommel. Dayane had yet to see Severath crack a smile. “Merchant Yaolin,” the guard announced. There was some stirring from the other side of the room and Dayane watched another guard come out from a small crowd of people waiting to see the Queen. Foewen, another of the Royal Guard, walked forward. Her hands rested on the pommels of her daggers, crossed on the back of her hips. Dayane noticed that all the Royal Guard seemed to stand at the ready at all times. “Merchant Yaolin had forgotten a piece of information,” she said. “He has gone to retrieve it and then will return shortly.” Severath’s eyes narrowed momentarily but Dayane reacted quicker. “Then we shall take a break,” Dayane spoke. “A few moments rest for some of us to stretch our legs and take a drink to keep our health up.” Dayane purposely looked over to her grandfather when she spoke. “We will continue when the merchant returns.” Orthar gave her a look, one he usually gave her when she worried too much for him, but he knew better than to speak up. “As you wish, your majesty,” Severath said. “We will reconvene once the merchant returns.” Orthar took a moment then stood, bowing to Dayane, and then turning to walk away. Dayane turned from him to glance at Foewen. The guard nodded and went off after Dayane’s grandfather. The queen had asked her guards to make sure Orthar was looked after, no matter how much he did not want it. Foewen was one of the few he would talk to without being belligerent. Dayane was just worried about her grandfather, and his health. “My Lady?” Dayane heard a voice from her side. She turned to see Rilav, once a rebel sorcerer, now once of the palace sorcerers, facing Mellara. The Royal Sorceress turned to Rilav. “The apothecary you asked for has arrived.” He turned to Dayane and bowed. “Your Majesty,” he said and offered her a quick wink. Dayane smiled back at him. “Excellent,” Mellara said. She turned to Dayane. “I will return shortly then. Nice timing on that break, Dayane.” Mellara was not one to use titles unless she wanted to make a point. The Royal Sorceress stood and took up her staff. With a swish of her dress she was walking besides Rilav and out one of the side doors of the room. The Queen realized she was by herself right now, and she did not mind. Dayane took the opportunity to look around the room. The royal hall was filled with a quiet buzz as those who loitered in it talked amongst them. Dayane let her eyes trail over the various officials and guards who lined the edge of the first floor. Anywhere that Dayane made eye contact the individual would give her a bow and the queen would acknowledge them with a nod of her head. Tedious but necessary as Mellara would always say. Dayane’s gaze then swept up to the balcony that ran along three sides of the room. The royal hall was open to all who wished to attend, yet it was significantly boring that all did not wish to attend. There were a few workers and merchants up in the balcony, quietly talking to one another. Dayane’s gaze went by a pair of women who were speaking to a small girl who was looking down on the queen now. She clung to one of the women’s dresses, watching Dayane with large eyes. Their eyes met for a moment and the child’s eyes shot open even bigger and she looked very nervous. Somehow the girl managed a nod to the queen. Dayane smiled back at her and gave her a wink. Thankfully Mellara was not around to see it. Dayane’s attention was caught by a shimmer of light from the corner of the balcony, though when she looked it seemed empty. She looked a little closer but did not worry too much since the Crown of Life, the magical artifact that gave her power and protection to rule the kingdoms, stayed silent, not warning her of any dangers. There were many windows in the top of the royal hall so she passed that off as just a stray beam of light. Her survey of the room complete, Dayane sighed and sat back in her throne, once again bored. It was a few moments later when her boredom was interrupted. A din of noise erupted from the entrance into the hall and, pushing through two merchants marched a young woman. The woman wore a simple dress, nothing flashy, just practical. It was the same brown as her hair, which was tied back at the nape of her neck. Her dark eyes where hard right now and she spared no glance for the two indignant looks from the merchants she just barged through. Dayane wondered why Alexstraza would want to be in the royal hall. The girl, left in Mellara’s care by a friend, mostly kept to herself. The only time Alexstraza would make a big fuss was when she had a vision. She was, after all, able to see the future from time to time. Alexstraza stopped and suddenly pointed a finger at the queen. “Protect the Queen!” she shouted. The people around her all froze in shock, but one person moved instantly. Two steps brought Severath to the front of the throne in less time then a gasping breath and the guard started to draw his sword. It was not a moment later when Dayane heard a loud thunk and suddenly Severath was knocked back a few feet with a shout but the guard remained standing and protected his queen. The room erupted in chaos. The Crown of Life flared up, surrounding Dayane in a warm magic bubble; she could feel Severath’s presence at the edge of that bubble. Something was not right with him. Dayane could feel the pain the captain was in. It was excruciating. Dayane caught movement on the balcony and watched a figure rush out one of the doors of the balcony. Her attention was brought back as Severath fell to a knee after fully unsheathing his sword. He brought his hand to his mouth and spoke softly. Dayane watched the ring begin to glow red. An instant later Foewen was in the room. “Captain!” she shouted immediately going to him. “No!” Severath shouted, pointing to where Dayane had seen the figure moving. “Assassin!” Foewen looked torn for just an instant and in an amazing bit of agility, ran to one of the columns that held up the balcony and scaled it without pause, flipping herself up and over to the balcony. She moved swiftly through the door the figure had gone through. Dayane noticed two more royal guards burst into the room and immediately went to their captain. Dayane watched in horror as Severath fell onto his back, a crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest. “Severath!” Dayane shouted, quickly kneeling beside him. Another royal guard, Vaunad, was at her side immediately, standing over her with his saber drawn. Dayane looked down into Severath’s eyes and there were slowly going out of focus. “No! Someone! Help us!” Dayane looked at the crossbow bolt. She needed to get that out of him. She reached for it and her hand was promptly swatted away like one would do to a child reaching for something hot. “The bolt is poisoned magically to you,” Alexstraza said, as she knelt down next to the captain. “Don’t touch it.” “Alexstraza.” Dayane began looking up at the young woman. “Just Al,” she said. Al reached out and took Dayane’s hand and placed it on Severath’s head. The bubble the Crown of Life had placed protectively around her did not seem to affect the girl; either that or it was allowing her to touch the queen. “Just keep his body alive until a healer shows up.” “A healer? But it will take too long to get someone from the hospital to the palace,” Dayane said, filling Severath with the magic from the Crown of Life. She had some experience with the Crown of Life but she was never good at any of the magic the crown had offered her. Magic was not a skill she possessed in abundance, but Mellara had taught her enough to use the Crown of Life as more than just a defense mechanism. “He’s here,” Al said, glancing up. Dayane followed the girl’s glance and saw a large bearded man in a white robe enter the room. “Your messenger told me a while ago that someone was gravely injured, Miss Alexstraza,” said Probsta, the head of the hospital and one of the most powerful healers in the city. The man had a glowing necklace of Faowind around his neck as he walked over to Severath. “I assume since it is you that I am not late.” “You’re timing is perfect,” Al said, nodding to the healer. “I’m sure it is because of your timing.” The healer knelt next to Severath and gave the captain a look over, coming to rest on the crossbow bolt. “There’s poison on the bolt.” “It’s magic,” Al said, standing up and turning to a door at the back of the hall. “It’s triggered to Dayane…though most likely the Crown of Life.” “Very well,” the healer said, closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around the pendant that was now glowing strongly. In a flash of light the bolt was destroyed and the wound that the bolt created was slowly closing up. The healer opened his eyes and took his hand from the pendant, its glow now exhausted. He placed his hand over Dayane’s and the queen felt the healer’s presence more accurately. “He is out of the gravest of danger, your majesty, but he still needs magic to supplement for the lost blood. Please follow my guide, Your Majesty.” Dayane then felt the healer’s touch against her magic, like one hand leading another hand, instructing her where to apply the Crown of Life’s magic. Dayane did as she was asked, too afraid of losing Severath to do anything else. She was not aware of Mellara’s presence until the sorceress spoke. “Who did this?” she spoke. Dayane twisted her head around to look at Mellara but the sorceress’ gaze was squarely on Al. “I don’t really know,” Al answered. “But Coania should have her trapped right now and we’ll have a few moments to ask her before the poison she took destroys her body.” Mellara’s eyebrow arched at Al. “This one seems stronger than other visions you’ve had,” Mellara noted. Al nodded. “It was. The last one that was this strong was…the fire.” Al’s voice softened down significantly when she spoke the last thought. Dayane could see sadness flash in Mellara’s eyes for a moment before the Royal Sorceress was there again. “I can feel Coania’s magic,” Mellara said, turning and looking in the direction that Coania, a palace sorceress in training, must have been. “We should hurry.” “Wait!” Dayane shouted. Mellara and Al had taken a couple steps and then turned back. “I’m coming with.” She turned to Probsta. “Will he be alright?” she asked him. “He should be, Your Majesty, though I would suggest you return quickly once it is done in case the Crown’s power is needed again.” The healer gave the queen a reproached look, but she knew he would not go against her wishes. Dayane stood herself up, not bothering to brush herself off and nodded to Mellara. “Lets go meet my would be murderer then,” Dayane said. * * * Dayane was a little shocked to find out that person sent to assassinate her was a woman. They had found Coania further down through the palace. The sorceress in training was staring at the assassin with a hard look of concentration. The assassin was propped against a wall, blood running down from her lip. Dayane looked over the woman. Her facial features were flawless aside from the trail of blood from her lip. Her eyes were a stunning green and dark brown hair flowed down from a black bandana that covered her head. She glared a look of hatred at Dayane the moment the queen showed up. Mellara calmly walked up to just short of the assassin and looked down on her. “Who sent you?” she asked simply. The assassin broke her glare from Dayane and looked up at Mellara, a look of defiance across her face. She did not respond to the sorceress’ question. Mellara took a step closer. “I’ll ask only once more, who sent you?” This time each word of her question was punctuated by a pulse of magic. The woman flinched with each word but again she stayed silent. Mellara, after a moments pause, sighed. She leveled her staff at the woman and the serpent on the end started glowing blue. The woman’s eyes widened for a moment but then she started laughing, a throaty laugh that, were it from anyone else, Dayane would have found it beautiful. The woman then spoke, her voice was musical and quite lovely, though Dayane did not know the language she spoke in. Dayane looked up at Mellara and watched her eyes go wide and she heard Coania gasp. The woman continued on talking and Dayane could hear the soft thrum of magic in the background. She watched as the assassin’s outline began to glow in a soft white. The assassin slowly lifted a shaking hand to her head and pulled the bandana from her head. With a shake of her head she shook out her hair, and Dayane gasped. The woman’s ears where flawless in appearance, however those things were not what Dayane focused on for the assassin’s ears came up at the tops to form a tip. Mellara’s breath was sucked in for a moment and then, in a louder voice, she too started speaking in the strange musical language, though Mellara spoke quickly and there was a little more harshness in her voice. The assassin’s eyes widened as she heard Mellara speak but then they slowly narrowed and a smile started to play on her lips. Dayane almost missed the fact that the woman’s body was beginning to glow. “Lady Mellara, I can’t hold it,” Coania said, her hand that was outstretched and holding the assassin down with strands of high magic was shaking a lot now. Dayane watched the glow around the assassin brighten. Mellara leveled her staff at the assassin and Dayane felt the sorceress’ magic lash over and around the assassin, covering her in a bubble. The assassin’s laugh was suddenly interrupted by her coughing up blood as the glow around her brightened to a point where Dayane had to advert her eyes. The assassin howled something in a loud voice and then Dayane felt a rush power. The Crown of Life flared into life, protecting the queen. Suddenly the power rush vanished and Dayane turned and looked down on where the assassin used to be. There was nothing there anymore. “Mellara, what was that?” Dayane asked. The Sorceress was glaring hard down at where her staff pointed. The place the assassin used to be. “An elf,” Mellara replied. “Elves are not real,” Dayane said. “She looked pretty real to me.” Mellara’s face swung around and looked at Al. “What else have you seen?” “Trouble,” the young girl said, meeting the sorceress’s gaze. “What’s going on? What did she say?” Dayane asked, pointing to where the assassin once lay. “What did you see?” she asked Al. Mellara did not immediately answer but instead turned and started walking away. “Get together your advisors, Dayane, and reinforce the Royal Guard. There will probably be more attempts on your life.” Mellara stopped and turned her head, glancing at Dayane. “Her speech was mostly threats, Dayane, but it boils down to one thing. War.” Mellara turned and continued walking. “War is coming for us, and it is coming fast.”

"Hmm...you're right," Orlan said to Tzimfemme. He turned Wyvern around once again faced the almost-dragon. "Now then....you know where you get to go, don't you Wyvie?" Wyvern's eyes opened wide for a moment in abject horror and then he sighed in resignment. "Down the duct?" Wyvern asked. "Down the duct," Orlan replied nodding. "But I actually didn't have anything to do with it this time!" Wyvern protested. Orlan gave the almost-dragon a rarely seen warm grin. "I know, buddy," Orlan said. "But someone needs to watch over the kids these days. Who knows what kind of Old Pen Horrors are awaiting down there...that's what the Edlers and Ancients are around for." Wyvern looked at his old friend and gave a small grin back and nodded. "You're right," he said. "Well of course I'm right..." Orlan said. "I'm Orlan." Orlan's warm grin suddenly turned back into its usual slyness and, winding up like a pitcher he took aim at the duct the small team just burst through. There was an audible GULP from Wyvern before he was launched into the duct. A trailing echo of "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......." followed him for a bit. Orlan stood back up and wrapped an arm around Tzimfemme. "You're thinking odd thoughts, again," Tzimfemme said, looking up at him with a little squint. Not much gets by Tzim....especially if it's chocolate. "Eh, I keep thinking we should help too," Orlan said. "I do believe I was on your schedule first." "This is true...." Orlan gave a pondering look....full of Sexyness though, and somewhere young women were fainting in response. "I believe we were doing some Tango lessons...." Orlan looked down at his delicious obsession and gave her the Darkest Chocolate of wicked smiles. One of her eyebrows shot up. Orlan held out his now empty hand and snapped twice. Tango music started from nowhere and suddenly Orlan's outfit was changed. He wore a pair of black linen pants and sports coat with a red button silk shirt and his hair had been slicked back Antonio Banderas style. Tzimfemme changed as well, though the nekkid mage could in no way wear any clothes...I mean, she IS the nekkid mage, what floated around her in a miasma was what was the essence of a Latin dress mixed with the essence of nekkidness (just, go with me on this...it worked...she made it work). She also found a rose was in her mouth. Her eyebrow never left it's rasied state as she reached out and took the rose from her lips. "And are we going down the duct as well?" she asked him. "Oh, hell no," Orlan said. He pointed to a door right next to the air duct. "We'll take the stairs." Orlan spun Tzimfemme into his arms and in classic cheasy tango fashion took a leaping step to the door.

Spandex....everywhere....it was all so.....tacky. Orlan's fashion sense was tingling more than Spidey's at an arachnaphbia convention. The utter pain of it all was overwhelming. Don't people wear silk anymore? Yeesh. Then Orlan saw him crawling along, his one true target. The bane of his exsistance (not really but it makes for more drama this way). "WYVERN!" The almost dragon flinched at that tone. He had heard it before a great many times. Orlan was angry and there was a scheme involved somewhere. Wyvern scrunched himself up, hunching his shoulders up and crouching slightly to not expose the scruff of his neck. Orlan always went for the scruff of the neck, and Wyvern was determined not to let him this time. Orlan skidded to a stop over some spandex and looked down on Wyvern, his face toughtful. With a flick of his wrist Orlan tossed out a shiny gold coin which seemed to sparkle more with each rotation it made in the air. Wyvern's brain turned off and he acted purely on instinct. With a shout of glee he sprung after the coin, catching it after four and a half flips and immediately bit down on it to make sure it was real. He realized his mistake when he tasted chocolate. Orlan moved faster than his usual pace....almost Tzim tacklin speed. He had Wyvern by the scuff of his neck in an instant. "Oh dang, I fell for it again, didn't I?" Wyvern said, continuing to eat the tasty chocolate candy. "4,827 times and counting," Orlan said nodding. "What did you do, Wyvern and how do we stop it?" "It's not my fault this time, I mean it!" Wyvern said. "Yah, right," Orlan said rolling his eyes. "No really, this time it's not me. Trust me!" Wyvern said. Suddenly the entire room was filled with canned laughter from a Sitcom. Orlan gave a dangerous look suddenly around the room and the laughter slowly died out. "I can't believe we still have that laugh track installed for your 'Trust me's" Orlan grumbled. "Ok, let's assume I tru.....er have faith that this was not your issue...yeah that should get around it....what is?" It was then Orlan noticed the skittering somethingerother that was making its way across the floor and towards the air duct. "Stop that thing!" Wyvern shouted....though it came out more as "Glqyuzmb gushb flwrng!" since he had gotten to the caramel center of the candy. Orlan took a step into action, and was promptly caught off guard when Kikuyu blasted in through a swirling vortex of pain and spandex. Orlan held up Wyvern and faced him towards Kikuyu. "That's one of our ninjas, correct?" Orlan asked. No reason is causing pain and torment to the wrong ninja. That's just not very polite. "Bwekjoj kfhie! (Ya huh!)" Wyvern replied. Orlan nodded and turned back to where the scuttle of movement was, only to not see it anymore. The air duct was hangin off of it's hinges and swingly slightly. Orlan sighed. Wyvern became frantic. "Ondsihj Behajhii gfloqj wbeghs! (You have to go after it!)" Orlan slowly turned the chewing Wyvern so he was face to face. Wyvern gulped. "Orlan....does not...do air ducts..." Orlan said in a slow, dangerous voice. "What about the time we broke into the chocolate factory....we went through the air ducts then," Tzimfemme spoke up. Orlan turned to his obsession and subconsciously turned Wyvern around as well. "Comepletely different, Tzimmy, cause those were chocolate fume removal ducts....it's completely different," Orlan said. "Now then, obviously whatever that is, needs to be stopped...so who's going to go after it, eh?" Orlan glanced around at the assemblied....uh...assembly room...yeah...thats' the ticket.

Orlan sighed and hung up the phone. He hated salesmen....seriously. I mean there's hatred and then there's what Orlan feels when he's in the presence of a salesman, and then some. Orlan picked up the phone and chucked it halfway across the room, where it spontanteously exploded into a fountain of chocolate. Orlan was violent sometimes but there was no reason to break things when they can be transmogrified...I mean, really now. Orlan, the Sexy Sexy Man, leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the fabulously expensive ebony oak desk that dominated his office. It was fabulous because Orlan had spent a good 130 years talking to the damn tree to get it to turn itself ebony so that he could make his desk. But it was a Sexy Sexy Desk, and he had some fun Sexy Sexy times on it with.... ...Something tugged at his brain. Well, let's be honest, it was not so much a tug as a large mace nammed lobotomy that seemed to storm around in his head, bashing the depths of his often times limited mind. Oh snap... "Tzimfemme!" Orlan shouted to himself, launching himself from his chair. He felt the tingling in his hand all of a sudden. Rapier was getting his attention, which meant Tzimfemme was outside, which also meant he was late....which also meant the planned chocolate tango lessons would be shortened....and that was NOT acceptable. "Now let's see here....I can either turn time back or I can threaten to have bolivian freedom fighters kidnap the instructor's family and hold them ransom until he gives extra tango time...hmm" Orlan said to himself as he walked over to his wardrobe. His face screwed up in a moment of pondering, and then he smiled. "The bolivians it is!" Orlan swung open his wardrobe to find a hideous being staring him right in the face. "Hi there! I'm Mr. Tumnus!" said the hideous creature of nightmares beyond which none may.....alright it was a faun but seriously a half goat man? That's just creepy. "Crivens!" Orlan shouted and promptly headbutt the unsuspecting faun and then slammed shut the doors to the wardrobe and flicked his wrist at it. Chains obetiently appeared from nowhere and wrapped them around the wardrobe, Masterlocking themselves together. Orlan flicked his other wrist at the wardrobe and it was promptly swallowed into the black oblivion of shadows....never to be seen again....god I hate those freaky fauns....Orlan shivered himself free of the willies. "Damn kids today and their wardrobe changing tricks...." Orlan grumbled to himself. He took a few more steps down and opened the correct wardrobe. Once again Orlan saw something hideous. His favorite Armani shirt....the one used to perform chapters 874 to 99173 in the Orlan Chocolate Kama Sutra, was defaced! Orlan's head had to tilt slightly to the side to read the poor handwriting on the shirt. "I can't stand the train, A free ride costs seven bucks, oh no! It's a blimp!" A terrible americanized haiku....here....on one of his favorite shirts! What foul villany is this? What knave doth protest to thine criminality wouldest....oh crap I've slipped into ol' Bill Shaky! Orlan growled to himself. Still, someone needs to pay for this. That was when Orlan noticed he was being written upon. He looked down and saw a ninja attached to himself, writing on the front of his shirt. "What the f-" the ninja looked up, suddenly aware of Orlan staring down at him. With a sterotypical HIYA! the ninja launched himself from Orlan, flipping backwards 10 times in an impressive display of agility. Impressive, that is, until it slammed hard into the open door of the wardrobe. There was a snap, a crackle, a pop and then some fizzing as the ninja just deflated...leaving just the costume. Orlan squinted and squatted down to pick up the costume. Orlan leaned out and sniffed. The smell was familiar....almost as if....someone Orlan knew very very well was involved....maybe he wasn't the cause but when things happened to Orlan's stuff, there was usually one culprit... "WYVERN!!!!" The doors to Orlan's office exploded outward as he shouted and he noticed 4 people standing in his waiting area. Well scratch that, he saw 3 people standing, the 4th was a sudden nekkid blur of speed as Tzimfemme, the obsession of obsessions, slammed into him. Normally Orlan would allow himself to be bowled over and roll behind the couch for some "Phun and Chocolate" but raw anger stood him fast and resolved...though he did catch his obession in his arms as she nuzzled against him. Orlan's no moron. "Where is he? I know he's here somewhere and I know he's involved in this. Nothing goes horribly wrong in this place without him or the damn rubber chicken in the middle of it!" Orlan shouted. Rapier and the two others were now all leaning to thier sides as they stared at Orlan. Orlan squinted at Rapier. "What?" She responded. "Turkey is not bad, did you see that bass over there? It's Deal or no Deal!" Orlan sighed as they read the haiku off of his shirt. "Some times I hate ninjas..."

Thanks again for spending the time, Dope-Master-W! It's always good to get any feedback. And Sweet, never worry about time, the stuff I tend to write is a tad bit longer than most things on the site (read: whollycrapthat'salongstory ) so I give anyone who wants to comment lots of leeway on it. Plus it's fun to read what people liked about it and its good for me to get critiques here and there so I can improve my writing! And about including characters from other stories, I tend to write it all like an eruption and invent characters on the fly, so when I do something I like I tend to keep them around. This story evolved as I wrote it, I only knew of a few scenes in my head and only loosely had a plot line (filler plot here and there I added, some made sense, some didn't). I had this one thought up before Siege but after writing Siege I really liked Donaxon and honestly, it kinda fits. The same is for Al. I like Al, and she'll be a key player in the next one I write. And actually the next one will include alot of the people I've introduced in all my stories. I've always been a fan of books with rather large casts but each person has thier own individuality. (I'm a huge fan of the 'misfits-unite' sort of books which has thieves with mages with warriors....a real D&D table top idea. It give a wide gamut and that's enjoyable for me to read). Anyway, thanks again for all feedback and thanks especially for taking time out to read it ;P

[Note: I was not aware that the board cut off the epilouge, so here it is] Epilogue “Alexstraza?” Al placed the feather in her book, keeping her place. She turned to her side and saw Coania standing there, gazing at her. The young mage, Al had made the mistake at calling her a sorceress once but the girl had turned pale and vehemently denied that she had that kind of power, had a concerned look on her face. “You know you can call me Al, Coania. I know my full name can be a mouthful sometimes.” Al smiled at Coania. When Mellara had brought her to the capital city the Royal Sorceress had left her in the care of Coania’s family who were occupying the unused part of Mellara’s own home. Coania’s family was huge, and instantly Al became their long lost sister, daughter and playmate. Al found that she did not mind in the least. Coania was the closest to her own age and they immediately hit it off. Al really needed a friend and Coania desperately needed some self-esteem. Al helped Coania out and Coania helped Al out. “Er, sorry Al, I always forget. Sorry,” Coania said. Al had been working on getting Coania to stop apologizing for everything. Some days she thought she should just try to stop the sun from rising instead. “It’s okay, Coania,” Al said. “Now what did you need me for?” Al was out in Mellara’s garden, sitting on a beautifully carved stone bench. The garden was always in full bloom, even though it was getting close to the beginning of the snowfall. Al figured Mellara’s magic was the culprit of that particular oddity. “You got a package,” Coania said. “From who?” Al asked. She didn’t know anyone who would send her a package. “I don’t know, Mellara brought it,” Coania said with a shrug. Al was intrigued now. Mellara was usually busy, only visting now and then to make sure Al was studying or to check up on Coania. More often it was to make sure Coania was still studying hard. The young girl was on her way to becoming a palace sorcerer so she needed a lot of studying and help, mostly though she needed help realizing how confidant she can actually be. “Well I guess I should go see, then.” Al stood up and followed Coania into the house, ending up in the dining room where Mellara sat at the head of the table. That space was held for Mellara every night at dinner with Coania’s family. Some times Mellara would show up, but mostly it was just left open for honor reasons. She was, after all, giving up her home for a bunch of strangers. “Hello, Al. How are things going?” the Royal Sorceress asked with a smile. “Good,” Al said. “Coania said you had a package for me.” Mellara smirked a little smirk that she usually did when she knew something. She pushed a medium sized package that was covered in brown paper across the table. Al sat herself in one of the chairs and looked at the package. It had her name “Al” written across it. “Who’s it from?” Mellara did not reply, she simply smiled that little smile of hers. Al shrugged and tore at the package. Coania took a chair next to her friend and watched as she opened the mystery gift. The first thing that came out of the package was a book. Al lifted it up and turned to look at its spine. She read the book title out loud. “‘The Story of Floriaye.’” Al stared at the moment a second, turning it over and opening it. She saw a note folded up inside the cover of the book. She took the note out and opened it looking it over. Hey eyes went wide as she saw the name at the bottom of the note. It said “Lothan.” “What’s it say?” Coania asked. “ ‘Dear Al, Floriaye traveled the world and became a great hero bearing the sword of the blacksmith she grew up with. Since I know you’re going to be one of those great heroes someday I decided to get you something you can carry with you. I promise that I will visit from time to time, until I do make sure you listen to everything Mellara tells you and that you don’t do any of it. Lothan.” Al could feel herself smile as she read the letter. “Who’s Lothan?” Coania asked, looking from Mellara to Al. “He’s a good friend who’s watching over me in my parent’s absence,” Al said. Coania’s eyes went wide but she nodded. Coania knew about her parents but she did not know about Taleth. Al decided not to push too many things on her new friend. “Well what did he make you then?” She asked. Al opened the rest of the package and pulled out something that was well wrapped. She gently unwrapped it and stared in awe. “A dagger?” Coania asked, looking over her shoulder. It was indeed a dagger. The hilt was made of a beautiful metal and it looked as if it were a sculpted wave. It had a plain leather sheath and she pulled the dagger from the sheath. The blade was flawless and shone brightly. Al saw that her name was carved into the side of the blade, her full name. She turned the blade over and on the other side were the names of her parents, in the same beautiful script. She heard Coania gasp. “What?” Al asked. “It’s magical!” her friend said. Al looked at her friend but she knew that Coania had good eyes when it came to magic. “Powerful magic,” Mellara said. “I think you’ll do well to keep that close to you.” Al slid the weapon back into its sheath and held the dagger close to her chest. “I know,” she said. “I’d keep it close even if it wasn’t magical. It’s from a very important person.” Mellara looked on approvingly. “I’ll make sure he knows that,” she said. Al looked up at the Royal Sorceress and noticed that she had a silver ring around one of her fingers. Somehow Al was sure that Taleth already knew. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you very much.” She held the weapon to her chest and began to tear up.

I always am looking for whatever feedback you feel like giving. I'm a big boy, I can take it

So.... yeah It's finished. The last three posts are 50+ pages that I wrote in the last two weeks (g'bye writer's block) so I just posted it all. Though I did finish reading over it late at night so expect grammatical errors and spelling mistake galore ;P But it's done, so anyone who was waiting for it to get finished before they read it can now sleep eay.... mmmm, sleep....

Queen Dayane was bored. She was also tired. She was also hungry. Though mostly, she was bored. She hated the day to day duties of queen. They seemed far too tedious to demand her attention, but Mellara was always firm about this. Also, though she was not going to admit it to anyone, any time she got to play queen was good enough for her. Today she was listening to someone from somewhere talk about something. She was not paying attention, but rather was thinking about some of the men she had met earlier in the month. She was a single woman after all, and most of the more political families were all sending their sons to the palace for rather pointless meaning visits. Of course Dayane knew the reasons behind the visits. Everyone wanted their son to be married to the Queen. Dayane knew most of these men were only after her as a political target but some of them were rather dashing. A touch broke her from her wistful thinking. She glanced to her side and saw Mellara, her fingers touching the queen’s hand. The Royal Sorceress nodded towards the man that was apparently finished talking. “Your Majesty? Will you help me?” he asked. Dayane swore in her head several loud times. She had no been paying any attention to what he had asked. Mellara’s sigh sounded within the confides of Dayane’s mind. “Just say, ‘yes’, Dayane,” Mellara said into her mind. Dayane glanced back at Mellara but her face gave nothing away, she had the same smile on her face. “Yes, I will help,” Dayane said in as regal a way as she could. The man beamed at her. “Oh thank you, your majesty! Thank you!” He was ecstatic when one of the guards walked over to him and started to escort him out. Dayane let out a sigh. “Rysabella was never that bad about daydreaming,” Mellara said into her head. She kept physical contact with Dayane so they could talk in this way. With the Crown of Life it proved difficult to get thoughts through without the contact. “So you said. So you always said,” Dayane replied, this time speaking aloud. She rolled her eyes upward. “Well it’s true,” Mellara replied aloud. “Sometimes I think I would be better off turning my house back into the witch’s hideaway and bury myself under it in my work again.” Dayane chuckled. “Then where would Coania’s family stay?” Dayane asked. The mage-girl and her family had moved into Mellara’s house, at the royal sorceress’s insistence. Dayane had been told where the girl was from and what happened but she could never remember what it was. Dayane’s eyes drifted down to Mellara’s hand where a ring of silver caught her attention. It had actually caught her attention a while ago. Dayane had asked her about it when one day she saw the sorceress wearing it. She pestered the woman until she was obviously tired of it until she gave an answer. “It’s a magic trinket,” Mellara had finally said. “It’s for communication.” “Ooh, and someone else has the other one of it? And is it a man?” Dayane asked teasingly, not expecting any sort of answer. “If you must know, yes. The other half of the ring is on the hand of a truly amazing man,” Mellara had replied with her mysterious little laugh and smile that meant she knew more that Dayane ever was going to be able to know. Since then she had never talked of it again, no matter how much pressuring Dayane put on. Now however, Dayane watched as the ring began to crack. “Mel, your ring,” Dayane said. Mellara look from Dayane down to her hand and her eyes shot open. Before she could do anything the ring exploded on her finger. Dayane felt the Crown of Life flare with magic as it encased the queen in a protective cocoon of power. Suddenly Dayane had flashes of a tower, and of a battle, and then she saw something she had not seen in a while. She saw Taleth the Black, the very reason she was queen today. She turned to Mellara, the royal Sorceress had a distant look on her face. Dayane must have caught some backlash from the spell because the Crown of Life but Mellara could see more than she could. “Mellara?” Mellara’s eyes blinked back into focus but she still stared ahead of her. Suddenly she reached over and plucked her staff from where it rested against her chair. She stood up and Dayane could feel the magic filling her. At her request the Crown of Life switched her view into the magic spectrum and Dayane watched Rysabella become filled with a golden light, the light of high magic. The queen stood up quickly and stepped away. Severath, the captain of the Royal Guard was there in an instant, his sword drawn and ready and he put himself between the sorceress and the queen. He was obviously acting on instinct. “Dammit, you fool,” Mellara said softly, though her magic carried her voice and everyone in the room heard it. In a flash she vanished. Dayane did not know where she went but she knew that the Sorceress had gone far. That much high magic was enough to travel the distance of the kingdoms. “Your Majesty, are you alright?” Severath asked. Dayane nodded. She was fine, but from the glimpse she caught of Taleth, he was not. Dayane’s heart raced. If Taleth was in trouble from something, may the gods help the rest of them. * * * The explosion of magic had caught Mellara by surprise, but there was no mistaking Taleth as a prisoner. And there was another face she recognized. Elistan. The man had almost slipped her mind. It had been over a century but that name still brought back that feeling of uneasiness. Elistan had taken Rysabella’s death the hardest of anyone she could think of. She knew that he fancied Rysabella, she knew that without any magic influence since he was overly awkward whenever she was in the room. But after her death, Mellara felt something in his snap, for the worse. He had been too eager to volunteer to bring Rysabella’s body someplace safe. And then, even when he found someplace safe he claimed he had to stay with the body to protect it, and that if he did not the magic protection around the queen’s body would fail. That was the last time she had heard from him. Since then she was ashamed to say that she had no idea what happened beyond then. She had been caught up in her own research and had completely let it slip her mind. But now, seeing Elistan again, all the uneasy feelings came back to her., especially after seeing Taleth in chains and Rysabella with her body. Something was not right. Thankfully the ring that she gave Taleth when last he left the capital city had overloaded and shattered. The explosion of magic told her where he was, and in an instant Mellara would be there as well. The teleportation spell would drain a lot of her stores of magic. A distance such as the one Mellara jumped was not something that can be done by anyone with magic skill. Unseen teleportation takes high magic, enough to both move them to the location and shield them from anything in the process. It was because of this she was almost caught unprepared when the giant stone hand came at her. Mellara leveled her staff at the hand and blasted it into nothingness. She saw now the wielder of the hand was a high level earth elemental, and it was regenerating fast. Mellara summoned a spike of ice, draining any water from the soil beneath her, and slammed it upward into the chest of the elemental. The spike impaled the monster and Mellara used every last bit of water around her to send the spike of ice upward as far as she could, removing the elemental from it’s natural element, the ground. Satisfied that the elemental would be busy for a while trying to get itself down, she turned, only to see another two elementals bearing down on her. She cursed and raised a shield. The elemental’s fists slammed down hard on the shield but it held up easily. Mellara was angry to see this many earth elementals. It would take a long time to bind one earth elemental, not to mention more. Her mind was screaming at her, this had to be Elistan. “Lady Mellara?!” came a voice. Mellara’s shield faltered a moment but she reinforced it before turning around to see where the voice came from. She stared a moment. She knew the beast of a man who was dodging the blows of a half-dozen of the elementals. “Jidan Donaxon?!” she shouted to him. Donaxon let out a force of something which caused all the elementals to be knocked back. He did not pause as he started running over to her. As he got close Mellara opened her shield enough to allow him in. She did not bother to ask him how he knew about the shield. Donaxon was a mysterious man, but he was also a good man. She had mixed feelings about seeing him here now though. “Please, just Don is fine,” he said with a little smile. “Well then Don, I should ask what exactly it is you’re doing here,” Mellara said. Donaxon grinned as he turned back to the other elementals who where now bearing down on the two of them. Donaxon’s hand slid over the sorceress’ own. “Right now I’m telling you to take some of my strength, otherwise I think we’ll get flattened rather quickly,” he said. Mellara did not hesitate and instead reached into the Uri-Van master, seeking out his pools of magical strength. She knew the Uri-Van all had magic pools, even if they utilized them differently. Whereas most individuals are like candles, Donaxon was like a forest fire. She dipped into that blaze and the shield began to burn with a blood red fire. They should be able to withstand a lot under that shield. “Now that that’s taken care of, how about telling me why you’re here,” Mellara asked. Donaxon smirked at her. “Probably the same reason you’re here. Rysabella,” Donaxon replied. Mellara’s eyes went wide. How did he know about her? Something big must have happened, and Donaxon was involved. “What do you know?” Mellara said. She spoke it not as a question but as an order. Thankfully Donaxon took it as such too. As the elementals all slammed hard on the shield, Donaxon told the story as quickly as he could recite it. Mellara watched him with a concentrated face, except when Donaxon talked of his uncertainty of Elistan. Mellara grinned. “I knew I liked you Donaxon. We think a lot alike.” “That’s good to know,” Donaxon replied with a smirk of his own. “Now that we are on the same page, how do we get out of this bind?” “Elementals are weakest when they’re out of their natural element. Toss them in the air and destroy them there, before they have a chance to do anything about it.” Donaxon gave the elementals around him a questioning look and then nodded. “I think I can handle that, though I don’t know about the numbers.” He reached down to a cut on his forearm. He rubbed it and then made a fist with his hand. A magical axe appeared in his hand, and Mellara was a little in awe. The axe was as raging as the flames of power in him. The Uri-Van masters were indeed frightening. “I’ll drop the shield then, ready?” she asked. Donaxon’s face hardened. “Yes,” he replied. Mellara waited a moment until the elementals where raising their arms for another strike and dropped the shield. Donaxon crouched down. In a blast of blue flame the elementals were all of a sudden consumed. Nothing remained of any of them. Both Donaxon and Mellara were caught off guard by this and froze in place. That was when Mellara recognized the blue flame that stood before them. She could see the outline of a man within the flames. “Lord Sedait!” she shouted the God of Magic’s name. Donaxon let low a whistle and opened his hand, the axe vanishing into nothing. Mellara was aware of a blue circle around their feet. The Master of Magic reached a flaming hand from his blue fire. “You should bear witness as well,” he intoned. Suddenly, Mellara could see inside the tower. * * * Rysabella fought herself, trying desperately to keep herself from crying. The tears were coming in force though. Elistan was deep into the spell, so he did not notice. Rysabella was crying more for herself than anyone else. She was confused. So confused. She had been so assertive and commanding in life but now… It hurt. She knew the voice in her head was right, she had done everything listening to her head, not her heart. And now that she listened to her heart, she realized how hard it was crying. She knew that what Taleth had done was wrong, but there were so may other things she had on her mind. Taleth had been there for the entire time. Her life was apart of his. As days went by, Taleth was always there, standing strong like a rock in the ocean. She always knew that he was there, and she realized that she thought that he always would be there. Now, she was not as sure of that. If this did work, she would most likely never see him again. She found as she thought about it, it was the reason for her sadness. Taleth was her friend, regardless of what she had been trying to convince herself of earlier. Her tears continued streaming down her face as she realized that she could not do anything about it. She turned and looked to Taleth and her breath sucked in. Taleth was standing, and his chains were gone. His arms were still manacled, but he seemed stronger than he had been. Not only was he standing but he was walking now as well. She watched him walk up the stairs, holding himself up. He was not looking at Rysabella, but rather, at Elistan. Elistan was not paying any attention, and Rysabella knew the look in Taleth’s eyes. She needed to warn Elistan, but she found her voice would not respond to her. She watched as Taleth crept up beside Elistan and even though she felt she should yell, it would not come out. Taleth let out a roar and reached for Elistan. The sorcerer’s eyes shot open but he was too late to defend himself. Taleth’s hands clamped around the sorcerer’s neck and he lifted the sorcerer into the air. Elistan was obviously drained of magic since he kept kicking and hitting Taleth, trying to get himself free. This proved a pointless act. “Taleth!” Rysabella shouted, finding her voice. The spell still raged around her. Taleth did not seem to pay any attention to her. His voice though, sounded loudly. “You’re free to do what you want, Rysabella, but not until you know the whole truth,” Taleth said. Everything around her went black just as it had done when she had her conversation with her own voice. Taleth still stood here, lifting Elistan high. Rysabella knew where she was, though she did not know how Elistan was here. Though she did not get a moment to ponder as she heard another voice that stopped her breath entirely. “Lothan?” said a small voice from behind Rysabella. Rysabella spun rapidly in a circle. Standing there, in her cloak and night gown, was Al. She looked small against the black, and she was obviously frightened. Rysabella’s hands went to her mouth. “Al?” Rysabella said. Al gave her a strange look. She was obviously not sure who this woman was who was calling her name. She looked from Rysabella back to Lothan. “Lothan, what’s going on?” she said in her small voice. “It’s just busy in this place tonight, isn’t it?” came another voice. The other Taleth appeared behind Al and placed his hands on her shoulders. Al jumped and turned up to look at him. “Lothan?” she asked again. “More Lothan than any of the other people in here tonight, young miss,” he said smiling down on her. “Though I’d like to apologize to you. Your gift, the seeing, brought you here. Unfortunately that means you’ll be my guest tonight.” “No, she doesn’t need to see this,” Rysabella said. The other Taleth nodded at her. “I agree, but he does not, and what he says, goes. It is his mind, you know.” He nodded at Taleth and Elistan. The assassin was focused on Elistan and paid no attention to them. “I’m sorry, Rysabella.” “Rysabella?” Al asked. She was looking around. “As in the former queen,” Taleth said, smiling down on her. “Unfortunately there’s a lot that we’d have to catch you up on, so I’ll have to stick with the shortened version. Al,” Taleth began. “The man you know as Lothan, the man over there lifting that poor fella up by his neck, is actually Taleth the Black, the immortal assassin who over a century ago killed the great queen Rysabella. He was sent to your little town to actually kill the sorcerer, but a few sticks have been tossed into his path, and as such, we’re here.” “What?” Al asked. She was confused. And rightly so. “You’ll have to bear with me, Al,” Taleth said. “I know this is confusing but it will all come together, I promise. Can you trust me on this?” Al looked from one Taleth to the other, and then to Rysabella. “I-I don’t know,” Al said. “Yes, it’s a little…difficult, I know. But all I ask is that you bear with me for a while. You’re about to bear witness to something very important. I know you’re a strong young woman, Al. I know you can do this.” Al looked up at Taleth. “As long as someone would explain things to me when it’s over,” Al said. “I just wanted to help Lothan.” “And you will, Al” Taleth said, smiling. “You will.” Taleth looked over to the real Taleth, who was still focused on Elistan. “Do you want to explain, or should I?” “Just show her the damn memory,” Taleth said, out of the side of his mouth. “You’re the boss,” the other Taleth said. He waved his hand and the world shifted, once again showing a scene that Rysabella had seen many times recently. The room was small, lit only with three candles. There were tomes and devices all over the room, scattered and seemingly left forgotten. A small man sat at a table, reading through a large book, his back again was to Rysabella. Taleth stepped through her into the room, his eyes piercing into the back of the old man. The old man replied without looking up from his book. “Ah, I figured they’d sent someone to stop me,” he said. He continued flipping through the pages. Taleth stopped a shrugged, mainly to himself. “You’re apparently doing something problematic, and someone wants you stopped, old man,” Taleth said. The old man’s finger that was flying along the words on the pages in his book stopped moving. The old man sighed and turned around. He was old, by anyone’s account. His hair was long and scraggled and his beard was in disarray. He looked at Taleth with menacing blue eyes. “What is this?” Al asked of the Taleth that stood over her. “This is a memory of something that happened a long time ago,” he replied. “Taleth the Black I can assume,” the old man said. “In the flesh,” Taleth replied with a bow. “So which one of them sent you?” he asked. “Now, now,” Taleth said. “I don’t tell anyone that.” The old man snorted. “Whoever sent you obviously doesn’t know what they’re doing. If they stop me they invite anarchy and destruction to their very doorstep.” “Interesting, but I don’t really care,” Taleth said taking a step towards the old man. “You should, kid,” the old man said. “She’s poisoned, and you know it.” This was different from what Rysabella had seen. The old man just said she was poisoned. What did that mean? Rysabella was never poisoned. “Who is?” Taleth asked, pausing. “Her royal highness,” the old man said. “And with that crown on her head this affects us all. She’ll become unstable in the head and it could to destroy the lands.” “Rysabella seems far from unstable,” Taleth observed. “You seem to be rather sure of yourself, but I know the queen is sick, and I know that when she is pushed over the edge she’ll take us all with her. She must be helped!” the old man shouted this and mad a fist. There were many subtle differences. Words were there but they were in a different order. This was not the same memory she had seen from Elistan. “You obviously take me for a fool, old man,” Taleth said, taking more steps. “And even if she was, I don’t care.” In a smooth fashion Taleth drew his sword and slammed it into the man’s belly. The old man reached out and grabbed a hold of Taleth’s cloak and coughed blood up on it once. “Someone must…act,” the old man was able to say. “There’s only… one way to stop it…” the old man said, and then he spoke no more, falling limp around Taleth’s sword. Taleth removed the blade from the dead man and wiped it clean on the deceased’s cloak. He turned to leave when he suddenly stopped, looking down into the book the old man had been reading. His eyes glanced over it quickly and then they went wide. Suddenly the entire room burst into flames. Al put her hands up to shield her from the fire, but nothing could hurt from this memory. Taleth pulled his cloak around him and hurried to the door. Taleth paused as he reached the doorway. “It’s true then,” Taleth said to himself. “The only way out is to stop it…” Taleth said. “If not, it’ll kill the queen.” Taleth looked over the fires that were now erupting through the small room. Taleth’s eyes then took on a sharp look as he spoke to the flames. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll take the job.” “What was that?” Rysabella asked. “That,” the other Taleth said, patting Al gently on her shoulder. “That was the true memory, Rysabella. That was what happened, unaltered, unchanged. What Elistan showed you was not Taleth’s memory, but Elistan’s own interpretation of Taleth’s memory. But that’s not where it ends.” “What?” Rysabella asked. “ ‘Evistrem, a poison that affects the mind, is horribly addictive. Its symptoms are very subtle, making the victim tired and apathetic if ever the victim does not get a dose every other day. If the victim goes an entire week without any doses, they will die. There is no known cure.’ That was what Taleth read from the book.” The other Taleth looked from Rysabella to Taleth and Elistan, and then back to the former queen. “I believe that, just before Taleth showed up in the palace as a guard, you were suffering from some illnesses?” “No, the Crown of Life would not let me get sick,” Rysabella said. “No. The Crown of Life could let you get sick, but it would just supplement its power for your own. You remember when you were walking in the gardens with Mellara and you passed out, waking up later the next day?” “Yes,” she said. “That was the poison. At that time you had not gotten a dosage in two weeks and it was starting to kill you. The Crown of Life was desperately keeping you alive, but even the Crown had limits. The magic in it had drained out and all the fatigue it had been keeping from you flooded into you.” “That was just me being stressed out, there was no poison in me. If I was poisoned the doctors would have been able to find it when they examined me after I fainted.” “No, the doctors were not allowed to examine you,” Taleth said, shaking his head. “One of the palace sorcerers refused them entry.” “What? Why? Who would do that?” Rysabella asked. “The man who my counterpart is holding aloft might know,” Taleth said, nodding his head in that direction. Rysabella looked from Taleth and Al to Taleth and Elistan, and then back. “Why?” Rysabella asked in a soft voice. She already knew the answer, and it hurt. “Because he was poisoning you.” This time the words came from the real Taleth. Rysabella turned and looked at him but he was staring Elistan hard in the eyes. The sorcerer’s eyes reacted wildly, looking every way but back into Taleth’s glare. “That he was,” the other Taleth chimed in. “He was poisoning you but you were showing no signs of sickness when he did not give you the dose. He did not know what the Crown of Life was doing, but the doctor that you saw Taleth slay, did. He had been to see you before Elistan was able to get there after you fainted. He took some of your blood and analyzed it both with mundane means and through the little magic he possessed. The Evistrem was easy to see, but he knew that none would believe him if he went forward with his knowledge. “So instead he started doing more research. This time he was not looking for a cure but rather who it could have been that was using it on you, Rysabella. If he could catch the culprit with it then he would have proof and all they would need is to test you, and see that you were poisoned. But his inquiries caught Elistan’s attention and thus Elistan hired Taleth to kill the doctor. “So they met before?” Rysabella asked. The other Taleth shook his head. “No,” he said. “Taleth was hired through another party so he never met who paid him to kill the doctor. Though I don’t think Elistan knew what was going to happen when he sent Taleth to kill the doctor. Taleth read the book the doctor was reading and instantly connected the poison with your own episode. So Taleth took it upon himself to try and find out who was poisoning you.” “Why?” Rysabella asked. Her question was ignored as Taleth kept on talking. “So he infiltrated the Royal Guard and he watched you…or more aptly, he watched everyone around you. You’ve gone through his memories many times but you always assumed he was just watching you for your habits, but Taleth was actually watching those you came in contact with. Elistan was one of the few he narrowed the culprits down to. And it proved right. Taleth stole a journal from Elistan that detailed his poisoning as well as his assumptions that it was the Crown of Life that was hampering his progress. With this, he would have a good bit of evidence, but there would be questions of how he came upon this, whereas, if you were to become visibly sick, the Royal Guard could demand that doctors come in and then the poison would be discovered. So, Taleth decided he had to remove the Crown of Life. And you’re familiar with this next beginning…” Suddenly she was watching Taleth creep towards her bed, drawing out his dagger. Rysabella watched herself sleeping soundly on her bed. Taleth stepped up to the side of the bed and held the dagger by it’s point over the sleeping queen. He let go and immediately the Crown of Life glowed brightly. A magic shield of power appeared in front of the dagger, stopping it. Taleth was quick as he slipped his hands over the sleeping queen’s head and tried to lift of the Crown of Life. Once he touched it, all hell broke loose. Taleth was blown back into the air and stopped suddenly, tendrils of magical power had erupted from the crown and were wrapping them around him. Taleth roared in pain as they began to pulse. Rysabella’s body left the bed and floated up next to Taleth’s body. She too was wrapped in these magical tendrils. Taleth’s face was contorted in unimaginable pain but Rysabella’s body seemed lifeless. The scene suddenly froze. “I can’t say what effect this is, but it did drain the Crown of Life of all the magic it had in it currently. That magic was the only thing that was keeping you alive, and as such, you died from the Evistrem poison that polluted your veins.” “But…” Rysabella began. “But why keep this hidden from me?” She turned to the real Taleth. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” Taleth dropped Elistan to the ground and turned to face Rysabella. Elistan coughed a few times but managed to sputter out something. “Don’t believe….his lies…your Maj-” His words were cut short as Taleth struck him across the mouth with his manacled wrists. “Because you couldn’t believe me,” Taleth said. “Especially right at the beginning. I am Taleth the Black and I have murdered, lied and stole. If I told you that your friend was poisoning you, what do you think would happen?” When Rysabella gave no answer, Taleth went on. “So I kept all this to myself. Hiding it.” “And he hid it well,” the other Taleth said. “Because he was ashamed of it.” The real Taleth gave his doppelganger a vicious look and then looked away. “Ashamed of it? What was he ashamed of?” Rysabella asked. The other Taleth was still looking at the real Taleth. “You have to tell her, Taleth,” he said. “It’s the reason we’re here right now, not for me to tell her, but for you.” Rysabella stared at Taleth’s back. She could make out no movement from the assassin. “What is it? Why are you ashamed of trying to help me?” Rysabella asked. “I’m not ashamed of trying to help you,” Taleth said in a soft voice. “Then what is it?’ Rysabella pressed, “What do you have to be ashamed of?” Taleth spun around, but it was not the same Taleth who was just standing there. It was a younger Taleth, one who’s sad story Rysabella knew well. He was only ten years old but already he had blood on his clothes. “I’m ashamed because I failed to protect you!” the young Taleth shouted. Rysabella suddenly became aware of another memory appearing around her. It showed a little girl being pierced on a sword and the young Taleth could only watch. The young girl was Aylin and her death had been why Taleth was who he was today. “What?” Rysabella asked. The young Taleth had tears in his eyes as he looked up at Rysabella. “I tried to protect you! I decided to do something good for a change. You were a great queen for the lands, and I did not want you to die, so I told myself I’d save you, that I’d keep you alive…just like….just like when I promised Aylin.” Young Taleth’s voice dropped won to a barely audible whisper when he said the girl’s name. Rysabella could not help but stare down at him. Taleth had just told her that he blamed himself for her death. Suddenly, Rysabella understood why Taleth had hidden all this from her. Taleth was always confident in what he did, he was always the one with the answers and he lived his life with a very disjointed personality. But he had actively tried to help Rysabella, something he had not done since that fateful day he tried to save Aylin from the slavers. But Aylin had died, and Rysabella had died. Taleth had ignored many pleas for help in his life, but the two times that he tried to save people, both times they ended up dying. Rysabella felt herself choking up. Taleth had been harboring these feelings for nearly two centuries. “But it went wrong, like it always does. Every time I try, someone I care about dies!” the young Taleth cried out. He was well in tears by now. Rysabella was too shocked for tears right now. She was staring down at a poor little child who has been heaping a world of scorn on himself for a great many years. This was why Taleth would not tell her about what really happened. He did not want anyone to know that he thought himself a failure. “Oh,” Rysabella said. She walked over and kneeled down by the young Taleth. She reached out and took the child into her arms and pulled him tight to her. The young Taleth was bawling at this point. Rysabella held on to him tightly. “No, it was not you fault, Taleth.” The young Taleth continued crying into her shoulder. Rysabella was trying to think of anything she could do to comfort Taleth. “Yes it was!” Taleth wailed. “I was the one who tried to take off the Crown of Life. I was the one that killed you.” “No,” Rysabella said. “Taleth you couldn’t have known what would happen to me when you did that.” “But you still died!” “No, Taleth!” “And you died at my hands!” “Stop this Taleth! What can I do to stop you from destroying yourself like this!?” Rysabella shouted. She held him tighter and tighter, trying to keep him from crying even more. She kept trying to think of what she could say to soothe him over. She could not bear to see Taleth like this. “Forgive him,” came her answer. She saw her other self, sitting as she was on the bed, her hand holding the place in her book. “But he’s done nothing wrong,” Rysabella said back into her mind. “You don’t think he has, but he thinks he has,” came the reply. Rysabella did not really get it, but she wanted to stop Taleth’s tears so much right now. “Taleth,” Rysabella started. “I know this is rather late, and I don’t know how much meaning it will have but, I forgive you.” Taleth’s crying stuttered for a moment but then began to lessen. The little boy’s sniffling became more and more controlled as Rysabella continued to squeeze him tightly. “For everything you’ve blamed on yourself, Taleth, there are some things that may truly be your fault, but I want you to know that I forgive you for those, as any friend would. I’ve been around you for a hundred and fifty years Taleth, and though I’m sure I’ve not said it very often, I’m happy where am I. Yes, I’m not really a force in the real world, but I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything else. “Through your eyes I’ve seen sights that I would never have been able to see as queen. I’ve gone places that very few others have even heard of. I’ve met people from every aspect of life. I’ve seen both death and life in the most intimate of terms through your eyes, and I thank the gods for every moment I have. Yes, I’ve lamented my current predicament many times, but that doesn’t mean I would change it. I realize that now. And I forgive you, Taleth, for all the transgressions you’ve done against me.” Rysabella began crying now. “If you can forgive me for not being able to see this until it was almost too late.” Rysabella found her arms were wrapped around herself suddenly, the young Taleth vanished. “I think we’re both to blame for that one,” Taleth’s voice came. Rysabella looked up through the teary eyes and saw the Taleth she knew standing over her. His face was sober, as it always was. There were no tears on his face though. Rysabella could not really imagine them there, anyway. Taleth reached out his still manacled hands to Rysabella, offering her help to her feet. Rysabella wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and accepted Taleth’s help. With little effort Taleth lifted the queen to her feet, and then, in a very non-Taleth fashion, offered her a little smile. “We’re both too stubborn for our own good.” Rysabella offered him back her own tear stained smile. “I agree with that one,” she said. The black vanished from around them and Rysabella found herself back in Elistan’s tower, standing once again next to her body, surrounded by the pulsing magical runes. Taleth stood before her, his face once again somber. Rysabella looked from him and then to Al, who stood in one of the doorways to the room looking scared and confused. Rysabella sighed. Taleth turned and followed her gaze and he too sighed. Taleth opened his mouth to say something to the little girl when someone else interrupted. “NO!” shouted Elistan. Both Taleth and Rysabella spun around to look at the Sorcerer. He was back on his feel but he looked disheveled. Rysabella thought it was more from what he saw in Taleth’s mind rather than the throttling the assassin had given the sorcerer earlier. But Rysabella did not ponder long, for all the rage she had in her that she directed at Taleth until recently shifted targets. “You…” she said her voice dangerous. “No, your majesty!” he shouted. “Those are just lies! Taleth is misleading you as he always has! I could never hurt you!” “No, Elistan,” Rysabella said. “I can no longer believe you. I have seen Taleth lie, steal and murder, but I know his real memories. Something did not sit right with the first memories you showed me, but at that time I was too angry to care. But now…now I know. But what I don’t understand, is why. Why, Elistan? Why would you do such a thing? I was your friend.” Elistan seemed to be wrestling with himself about something. “My friend?” he said, half to himself. His voice was wavering and his eyes were becoming wilder. “My friend?! Of course you were. You were everyone’s friend but you never saw the devotion I had for you. I was so much better than those others you surrounded yourself with. I would have gladly sacrificed my life for you. You were my queen! Nobody else’s!” Rysabella’s eyes went wide as she began to fathom what he was talking about. Elistan was obsessed with her. She could not believe she was unable to see it before now. He loved her more than his own life. “Then why poison me?” she asked. “It wasn’t to kill you, your majesty,” his mood changed violently. One moment he was raging, now he was defensive and had on a perverse smirk. “I was just working on showing you how much you needed me. I was just going to give you a little until you showed signs of sickness, then I’d give you your doses every other day, and you’d learn how good I was to you, and how much you needed me.” As he spoke Rysabella felt like he was trying to convince himself, rather than trying to convince her. The former queen could barely swallow that tripe anyway. “You’re insane,” she whispered. “No I’m NOT!” Elistan cried. “I’ve guarded your body for a century and a half, and I’ve always been there for you. I was the one you were supposed to be dependant on, not this murderer!” Elistan pointed at Taleth. The assassin stared back at the sorcerer. “But now you will be mine! Once this ritual ends you will have no choice but to be with me forever, otherwise you’ll die!” Rysabella paused for a moment, wondering what he meant. Then it came to her. He had been preserving her body all this time, and it still had the poison flowing through it. If she went through with this ritual, she would be his plaything or she would die, again. He had been the one to kill him the first time. Rysabella heard a clink as the manacles on Taleth’s wrists broke free and fell to the ground. She did not have time to give that a second thought. “You are insane,” she said. “And I will never be your doll!” Rysabella did not even have a moment of indecision. She was well aware that this was her only chance at life again but she turned and walked from the circle of runes. She felt a tingle of magic as she passed through the unseen magical barrier. Turning her head to face Elistan, she stepped down a few steps and stood next to Taleth. “NO! I offered you everything! Why him? Why did I lose to him?” Elistan shouted. The runes on the floor flared and sparks of magical energy flew from them, slamming into Elistan’s body. The sorcerer’s eyes took on a blue glow as magic flowed back into him. “Because he’s a better man then you are, Elistan,” Rysabella found herself saying. She was aware that her lips moved and the words came out, but she was not the one who decided to say those words. They were said by that little voice deep within her. Taleth smirked and winked at Rysabella. “Why thank you,” he replied, and Rysabella knew it was not Taleth who said that either. These voices were talking to one another. She did not get the luxury of wasting another thought over it since the world began to shake. “NEVER!” Elistan shouted. His body was suddenly consumed in blue flame. Rysabella knew what this was. Mellara spoke of Sedait’s Final Gift. In exchange for their lives, sorcerers who had passed beyond the flow of time, a gift not often granted, could call upon the God of Magic to give them one last moment of power. In an instant Elistan’s body was brimming over with all the magic he had used over his entire lifetime. The longer a sorcerer lived after they stepped from time’s flow the more powerful the Final Gift. In exchange, the sorcerer was consumed and his entire existence, spirit and all, would cease to be. It was a terrible thing to do and had only been done a few times in desperate measures. Now Rysabella fully understood how unbalanced Elistan was. Taleth also knew what this was. He had read enough and seen enough to know Sedait’s Final Gift when it happened. Taleth turned and started running from the stairs. Rysabella was a little confused since there was no way Taleth would be able to escape from Elistan’s rage now. Understanding dawned on her as she saw that Taleth was not running from the magic. Taleth was running at Al. He shouted a warning at the now visibly frightened girl. Al ducked down and put her hands over her head. Taleth was steps away when she head Elistan yell his final curse. “If I can’t have her, neither shall you!” Then the world exploded. * * * The vision vanished and Mellara swore in a very unladylike manner. She put her staff in front of her and gripped it tightly. The tower in front of her exploded in blue flame. Mellara’s shield went up but she was not sure it would hold. She felt a touch on her hands and Donaxon was there, his girth wrapped around her small frame. One hand was on hers and the other was on the staff. Mellara immediately dipped into the Uri-Van Master and took from his flame. This time, with both their lives on the line, Mellara did not hold back. She took it all, leaving just a little ember left in him. She also poured almost all her magic into it, which sadly was not a lot. The teleportation had taken most of her power and then the battle with the elementals had left her nearly dry. She knew though if the shield failed, they would both be dead. The shield responded to Donaxon’s power by flaring up with a blood red glow. The blue fire struck the barrier with amazing force. The backlash of the magic striking created winds blowing as fast an in the center of the most violent torrents. Mellara could feel the winds batting hard against her, but she was not going anywhere. Even if she lost her grip she could feel Donaxon behind her and the man was a granite mountain. He was not going to move, even in the deadliest of winds. The magical torrent bashed against the shield and Mellara was in awe of the power. Elistan was younger than her by a bit but this was a frightening amount of power. There was a little part of Mellara that wondered with a perverse desire just how powerful she would be with Sedait’s Final Gift. The rest of her hoped that little bit would never find out. Just as Mellara felt the shield begin to buckle, the magic vanished, and the two of them were left in the center of a swath of destruction. Trees were shattered and stones where tossed around. Dust and debris floated in the air, making everything into a haze. There was an unholy silence that fell over the area. Mellara felt Donaxon stand up straight and release his iron grip on her hand and her staff. Mellara peeled her own fingers from around her staff and instead used it as a cane, holding herself up. “I’m afraid I’m a little lost on some aspects of magic,” Donaxon said. “But was that what I think it was?” “Sedait’s Final Gift,” Mellara said. Donaxon let go a low whistle. “You sorcerers are awe inspiring, indeed,” he said. Mellara looked up at him and gave him a little smirk. “Then the feeling is mutual,” Mellara said. Donaxon chuckled once and looked over what was left of the tower. “Would they be able to survive that?” Donaxon asked. “He would have, yes,” Mellara said without pause. “I hope the little girl did as well. Rysabella!” Mellara called out. If anyone was going to respond, it would be her. “Mellara?” came a reply. Mellara’s heart soared. Taleth was fine, and for some reason Mellara was able to speak with Rysabella. Mellara’s gaze swept over the rubble looking for her former queen. She spotted her standing on top of a large piece of stone. Her hand was in the air. “Can you see me?” “I can!” she shouted as she hurried over to Rysabella. She ran into a problem when there was a large, jagged rock in her way but she felt Donaxon’s arm wrap around her and pick her up. Suddenly she was jumping over the rock and landing next to Rysabella and Taleth. Taleth was sitting with the young girl who Mellara had seen in the vision the God of Magic had shown her and Donaxon. Rysabella had called her Al. Her head was in Taleth’s lap and she was looking up at him. She did not look too hurt. Mellara looked from the little girl, to Taleth and then to Rysabella. “Is she okay?” “She’ll be fine,” Taleth said. Mellara turned back to him. She had never seen Taleth like this, he was almost gentle with the girl. “She’s a strong girl, even if she’s had to deal with a lot of things she shouldn’t have. She’ll get stronger out of this.” “So you are Taleth the Black,” the girl said. She was looking up at him. Taleth nodded. “Why did you save me then? You’re supposed to be a terrible person.” Taleth smirked at her. “That I am,” he said. “But I am also Lothan, and Lothan made a promise to your parents to keep you safe. I just did what I had to in order to keep you safe. Besides,” Taleth paused. “You are a good kid, Al. Getting killed just because you met a bad person is not something you deserve.” Al lifted her head and sat up. She turned and looked at Taleth and then threw her arms around his torso. “Thank you, Mr. Lothan,” she whispered softly. Taleth smiled a true smile, something Mellara was amazed at, and hugged her back. “You’re a better person than I could ever hope to be,” Taleth said. Mellara suddenly felt embarrassed and forced herself to look away. Instead she looked at Rysabella who was watching them both with an approving grin. “It’s been a while, Your Majesty,” Mellara said. “Though not as long as the first time.” Mellara grinned at Rysabella. Rysabella let a little laugh. “This is true,” the former queen said. “But I don’t know how long this one will last either. I don’t have the Crown of Life this time.” “This one is more permanent,” Taleth spoke up. “You all can see her now, just as Dayane can.” Mellara turned back to Taleth. “How do you know?” she asked him. Taleth tapped his forehead. “It’s what he said,” Taleth said. “How does he know?” Rysabella asked. Mellara can only assume he was talking about Taleth’s inner persona. Dayane had told the sorceress about it when the current queen had gone into the assassin’s mind to save him. “I have no idea, but I know he’s right,” Taleth said with a shrug. “Now, by Dayane, do you mean Queen Dayane?” This time is was Donaxon who spoke up. Mellara smiled at the big man. “The very one,” the sorceress replied. “Ah,” Donaxon said. “I’m going to assume you’re smart enough to keep this information to yourself?” Mellara asked. Donaxon chuckled. “Yes,” he said. “But the other Jidans will probably whittle it out of me somehow, but I don’t think it’ll go much beyond that. I don’t think anyone would believe me beyond the two old men anyway.” “Good enough for me,” Mellara said. “Lothan….er Taleth?” said a small voice. Mellara looked down and saw Al looking up at the three of them. “Yes?” Taleth asked. “Who are these people?” she asked. Taleth looked at her for a moment and then laughed, loudly. Mellara thought it was one of the most amazing things she had ever heard. Introductions were made and Al’s eyes went wide as he realized just who each and everyone was. Everyone knew Rysabella, and Mellara’s name was also well know, more so because of Dayane’s reign. Donaxon she had never heard of, but she only knew a little bit about the Uri-Van. The Uri-Van master seemed to take it in stride. Once the introductions were done, Donaxon offered his hand to Taleth to help him up. The assassin accepted the offer, standing Al up in the process. “I think I would have summarily lost our fight back there if not for the added help,” he said to Taleth. Taleth shrugged. “I have a couple years on you,” the assassin said with a small grin. “But I’m sure you’ll have another chance at it. I tend to get around.” Donaxon laughed at this. Mellara smiled. She turned her gaze to Rysabella, who was not paying any attention. He gaze was fixed on the sky to the east. Mellara followed her line of sight and saw what her friend was looking at. There was a red glow that lit up the night horizon. She could see a cloud of smoke also. Something was burning. She heard a sharp intake of breath. Turning back she saw Al was clutching tightly at Taleth. Her eyes were glazed over and she was not really staring at anything, but he face was a mask of terror. “Al?” Taleth asked. “Oh Gods! They’re burning! Mom! DAD! They’re BURNING!” Al screamed this out. Taleth’s eyes went wide and he shared a quick look with Rysabella. Then his eyes locked onto Mellara’s. “Mel I need a gate! Now!” he said. “I’m tapped for magic, and I don’t know where I’m going either,” Mellara said. There was no way she would be able to gate four people anywhere with the magic she had left, let alone not knowing where they wanted to go. Taleth moved swiftly, holding a shaking and crying Al to his chest. Taleth reached out and jabbed a finger against the Sorceress’ forehead. Mellara felt a moment of fear. There was an immense magic power filling her, something that was beyond even that of Donaxon, as well as her own. She did not like this, Taleth was supposed to be devoid of all magic, but now with just a touch she could feel the raw power coming from him. She was not given the opportunity to think more since an image of a farmhouse and a blacksmith’s forge appeared in her mind. The massive amount of power seemed to turn off any objections Mellara had, and her centuries of training took over. She gated the four of them in an instant. * * * The house was ablaze, and Rysabella knew in an instant that there was no way Gregor or Miryan could survive the blaze. Al’s visions had been deadly accurate so far, and Rysabella felt a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. The girl had foreseen her parents own dead, and now it was happening. Al broke free of Taleth and took two steps towards the burning home. Taleth was quicker than that though and grabbed her before she could do anything stupid. He roughly tossed he behind him, throwing her back a few feet. Donaxon was there, catching the girl and holding her tightly. Al was crying and screaming incoherently as she fought against the big man, obviously seeing what her parents were going through right now. “Lothan?!” came a voice. Rysabella spun around and saw a mob of people. This was no ordinary mob though. Rysabella recognized each and every one of them as the townspeople of the little town where Taleth had been staying. Half of them carried torches with them. Rysabella did not need to spend time wondering how the fire had happened. The man who spoke she recognized as well. He was the one who was ready to give Al up to the bandits when they had attacked a few days ago. He was obviously their leader. Taleth did not pause for long. Rysabella turned and saw the assassin’s eyes go wide as he took in the mob, and then they narrowed dangerously. With a turn Taleth dashed into the house, oblivious to the fire that would not be able to hurt him anyway. “No!” someone shouted from the crowd. Rysabella turned back to the crowd and now saw the leader, she remembered his name as Rother, the little spitfire’s father. He was staring directly at Al right now. “No,” he said. “You’re supposed to be in there!” He yelled at Al and pointed to the fire. Rysabella felt sick. They were trying to burn Al. They were trying to burn her out of their lives. But that was not what made Rysabella feel as sick. She knew that Gregor and Miryan were in there now. They had tried to kill an innocent child and instead they killed her innocent parents. Rysabella spun to Mellara. “Can you stop the fire?” she demanded of her friend. Mellara could only shake her head. “I don’t have enough magic left in me to light a candle, I’m sorry,” Mellara replied. Her gaze went to Donaxon but the Uri-Van master was already shaking his head at her. Rysabella could only look back at the fire and despair. She saw Taleth again, coming through the flaming doorway. He had two bodies with him. Rysabella knew they were done with. Their bodies were charred and Rysabella knew enough about fire to know that even if the fire did not kill you, the smoke would have. Taleth stepped from the fire, his shirt aflame but the assassin was fine. He gently laid down the bodies on the ground and patted the fire out on himself. Al’s wails became louder and much more incoherent when she saw the bodies. Donaxon held the girl to his chest and was whispering into her ear trying to keep her as calm as he could. Rysabella did not think it was going to happen. Taleth looked up with rage in his eyes and turned on the mob. As one the mob seemed to take a step back from that gaze. Taleth moved almost instantly and snatched Rother by his neck. Taleth lifted him from the ground with one hand and squeezed the man’s throat. “You ignorant, stupid, pathetic country folk!” he spat out. “You don’t know something so you just decide to destroy it! You can’t think of the big picture. All you see is your small town wallowing in it’s own stupidity!” Taleth growled loudly. “And now you’ve destroyed three innocent lives.” Rysabella watched Rother struggle at his waist for something. He managed to pull a dagger out of it’s sheath and swing wildly at Taleth. The assassin swatted the weapon away by striking Rother’s hand with the back of his own. The dagger went spinning away on the ground. “NO!” Al shouted out. It was the most coherent statement she had made since they gated here. Rysabella looked back at the girl and saw her reaching out a hand to her dead parents, tears streaming down her face like twin rivers. Donaxon’s face was also full of pain as he tried to calm her. Rysabella could see Mellara’s hands grip her staff in rage. This was too much. The former queen turned back to see Rother’s dagger get picked up by the little spitfire, Osalyn. The little girl took the dagger and charged at Taleth. “Let go my father!” she shouted. Taleth was watching Al but he turned around and stared at the little girl. Taleth sighed in anger and reached out his free hand. The dagger struck his palm, causing a gasp from the mob, and the girl stumbled, letting the dagger wretch from her hands. Taleth caught the dagger by it’s hilt and in an instant the girl was scarred for life. Three quick slices, one on each cheek and one down the middle of her forehead cut the girl. They were not deep enough to kill but they would leave scars for the rest of her life. Taleth kicked the girl hard in the chest and she flew backwards. “Osalyn!” shouted a woman. Osalyn’s mother broke from the mob and ran for her crying daughter. She cradled the girl in her arms. Taleth gave no concern to them and instead plunged the dagger into Rother’s thigh. The man gave a scream of pain and there were some shrieks from the mob. “Lothan!” came a cry. “What are you doing?” said another. “Are you crazy? What’s happened to you?” “Shut up!” Taleth roared. He snapped his arm and sent Rother flying towards his wife and child. “My name is not Lothan! My name is Taleth the Black!” There came another gasp from the mob. “You have destroyed three innocent lives and thus have forfeited your own! I know all of your names and faces.” Taleth took a step towards the mob. “I would kill each and every one of you right here and right now for this crime you’ve committed if I thought it right. But I’m not going to. I’m going to give to you what you refused to give to Gregor and Miryan: a chance. “I’m going to dig two graves, and give these two great people a proper burial tonight. And tomorrow I’m going to prepare. And then, when the sun sets tomorrow night, your time will be up, and I will kill each and every one of you. If you believe in the gods then you had better make peace with them as quickly as you can. Now get out of my sight, lest I decide to forget my offer.” Nobody seemed to move for a few moments. Taleth took another step towards them all and shouted. “NOW!” The mob turned and fled nearly as one. A few stopped and grabbed Rother and his family but most just turn and ran screaming, dropping their torches or anything else they had with them. Rysabella watched in satisfaction, but she know Taleth only watched in anger. Taleth spun around once the mob was quite far away. He took two quick steps towards Donaxon and struck Al in the chest with two fingers. Rysabella knew the precise strike would knock the girl out, and it did. Donaxon picked the girl’s now limp body into his arms. “Get her out of here,” he said to the big man. Donaxon nodded. “Taleth,” Mellara began. “Just go, Mel,” Taleth said, turning from the both of them, looking back at the fire. “I’ll be along tomorrow. Just get her far from here, please.” Mellara nodded and looked at Donaxon. The two of them then turned and started walking from the house in the opposite direction that the mob had run. Rysabella watched them walk away and then turned back. She watched Taleth walk into the burning building oblivious of the flames that could not even hurt him if they wanted. It was then that she felt it. A small trickle of magic was coming from Taleth. She knew that he had done something to Mellara to fill her with enough magic to gate the four of them, but she did not have any time to think about it. Now, feeling the magic begin to flow from him, she knew something happened. Taleth was supposed to be especially devoid of any magical talent. But Rysabella now knew there was a flow of magic. The flow started to come faster and faster from him. It began swirling around him, moving in every which way. Taleth stopped in the middle of the burning house and roared in pain. The fire responded to his pain and flared up, the new magic which was flowing around him adding to it’s power. The flames reached up skyward and spun around him, burning stronger and hotter but not phasing Taleth at all. Suddenly Rysabella felt a massive surge of magic and the flames all vanished. Taleth’s roar stopped and she watched him double over and fall to the ground. She took two steps toward him, initially worried he was hurt when she heard it. Taleth was crying. This was not the child Taleth that Rysabella had tried to comfort earlier, but this was the real Taleth, curled into a ball on the floor of a burnt out home, crying. Rysabella’s voice caught in her throat, not that she could think of anything to say at this point anyway. The former queen kneeled down beside Taleth. Though she knew it would do nothing. Rysabella reached out her hand and placed it over Taleth’s. She held it just above his hand, letting it not pass through his own. And that was how she remained for the rest of the night. * * * Taleth awoke just before the sun was rising. It had been the first time the assassin had actually slept in many years. It was also the first sleep he had with no dreams. He sat himself up and looked up at Rysabella. She sat where she was when he had fallen asleep. She looked down on him with concern. “Hello,” she said in a soft voice, as if a bit unsure of herself. “Hello,” Taleth replied. He stood himself up and looked down on Rysabella. He turned and looked through the charred frame of the house to the forge. He knew that the fires in there were still burning. He turned and looked back at Rysabella. “I have work to do,” he said. Rysabella nodded. “I know,” she replied. * * * There were many rumors of what happened that day. Some say that Death itself stalked into the center of that small town and straight up to the fountain that the town held in great regard. Then, with a blow powerful enough to strike down the Gods themselves, Death buried his scythe into the stone, forever marring the beauty of the fountain, and letting everyone know the price of angering Death. * * * “I want to be there when you kill them,” Al said. Taleth looked down at her and shook his head. “No,” the assassin said. Taleth and Rysabella had caught up with Donaxon and Mellara who had made a small camp a fair distance from the town. Al had woken up just recently and was very quiet and somber before Taleth had shown up, once he did though, those were the first words out of her mouth. “What do you mean? They killed my parents! I deserve to see them get punished.” “They will get punished, but not by me,” Taleth said. “What?” Al asked, surprised. “I’m not going to kill any of them, Al.” “But you said-” “I know what I said, Al, but not all of those people are blood thirsty killers. Some are just poor, stupid country folk. So I gave them a choice. Either they can accept what they’ve done and accept that I will kill them and continue living their life until that day, or they will not and spend the rest of their lives on the run from me, hiding where they can, always afraid that I will be there ready to stab them through their heart. Those people will cause themselves more pain and agony then I could simply by killing them. That is their punishment. Death is too quick for them.” Al seemed to think this over, and everyone could see the tears in the young girl’s eyes as she thought this over. Miryan and Gregor would not want their daughter to accompany a killer, even if it was to get revenge on their deaths. The young girl swallowed and sighed, nodding at Taleth. She knew it was a worse punishment then death. And she loved her parent too much to do something they would not want to do. “So what am I to do now?” she asked in despair. “Yours is a great and powerful gift, and you’re going to learn to master it,” Taleth said. “You’re going to go to the Palace, and Mellara will take care of you in my absence.” “I will?” Mellara asked. “Yes, you will,” Taleth said. Mellara looked over the young girl and shrugged. “I suppose I have to, don’t I?” she asked. “You do,” Rysabella answered. Mellara smiled at her friend. “Your wish is my command, Your Majesty,” the sorceress said. “Do you think this is wise?” “Yes,” Taleth said. “I do. I promised Gregor and Miryan that I’d protect her as if she were my own daughter, so I’m sending her to the best place to learn who she is and what she can do.” Taleth turned to Al again. “You are the strongest young woman I know, Al, and I will do my best in your parents’ absence, but I know that even without me around you’ll grow to be an amazing young woman and the greatest seeress in the lands.” Al looked up at him. “Do you really think so?” The tears were there but they were being held back by the young girl’s determination. “No,” Taleth said. “I know so.” * * * Epilogue “Alexstraza?” Al placed the feather in her book, keeping her place. She turned to her side and saw

“Then you must be who took over the Jidan Liaons position,” Taleth said. “You are knowledgeable, I’ll say that,” Donaxon said, looking mildly surprised. “I had met your predecessor a long time ago. I am sorry to have heard of his passing,” Taleth said. Donaxon nodded solemnly. “As we all were. He was a good man.” There was a pause. “But that is neither here nor there right now. I believe this is where the customary insults and taunts go.” “I’m not much for either, personally,” Taleth said. Donaxon smiled. Neither man moved for a bit. Taleth was sizing up his opponent. The Jidan Liaons position was hand-to-hand combat, and by the look of Donaxon, he excelled at that. Taleth was confident in himself. He had bested Donaxon’s predecessor many times in combat. Though, nearly two centuries of life taught Taleth to underestimate nothing. As such, both men stood, motionless, waiting for the other to make some kind of reaction, or movement. Fortunately, Rysabella was not as patient. “I hope he kills you,” she said with hatred dripping from her voice. Taleth burst into action, throwing himself at Donaxon. He felt some resistance as Donaxon threw up a barrier of chi around him. The Uri-Van, whom the Jidans were masters of, manipulated their own inner force, called chi, which allowed them to do some truly amazing things. Unfortunately, Taleth had no chi though his body. He was devoid of it as much as he was devoid of magic. But he had studied with the Uri-Van for a few years, and had learned a lot about their style and way of life. He also learned what chi felt like, even if he himself had none. The barrier slowed Taleth, but it did not stop him. Taleth threw a punch directly at Donaxon but the big man pushed himself backwards, moving a pace away from Taleth’s strike. The retreat was only momentary as Donaxon sprung forward, striking with both palms, aiming for Taleth’s chest. Taleth moved to grab hold of Donaxon’s arms but then stopped himself. A Jidan would know better than to make a mistake like that. Instead, Taleth leaned forward and to the side, using his fist to strike the Uri-Van master’s attack aside. Donaxon stopped moving forward and thrust to the side Taleth was on, striking with his elbow. Taleth let the strike hit him in his shoulder. The assassin let the force of Donaxon’s attack spin him, adding speed and strength to his knee as he brought it up for Donaxon. Once again Taleth met the chi resistance, slowing him down enough for Donaxon to block the blow with his free hand. Taleth and Donaxon leapt back from each other and paused. “You truly are immortal, I see. That strike should have dislocated your shoulder, or shattered it even,” Donaxon observed. Taleth smirked a little smirk. “It gets me by,” Taleth said. Donaxon leapt again, swinging his leg around for a kick to Taleth’s head. Taleth ducked and reached up his hand, blocking the next blow that was coming down. Taleth knew what was coming when. That was why fighting the average Uri-Van was no challenge. They were taught the same attacks, blocks and skills, if you knew what to expect you would always be one step ahead of them. Fighting an Uri-Van master, Taleth suddenly found out, was not that way. Taleth felt the force of chi slam into him. His hand had caught the big man’s fist but Donaxon put more that that behind the strike. Taleth was struck back a few feet when Donaxon attacked again. Taleth was prepared for this one, and the two traded blows, here and there. Donaxon landed strike on Taleth that would have easily incapacitated a regular man, but Taleth did not even need to shake them off, they were barely perceptible. Donaxon seemed much the same, but, after a few minutes of trading strikes, he was definitely beginning to show signs of the fight. Though only small signs they were. A bruise on his right arm and a small cut on his cheek where his only visible wounds. Taleth imagined the big man probably had a broken rib as well, though there was a moment where he could have mended it with his chi. Had he been fighting anyone else, Donaxon would have won right at the start, but Taleth was immortal, and, as unfair an advantage as that was, he was going to win. The fight continued though, neither man wanting to rest. To anyone watching the battle was not of men but rather of monsters. Each one took blows that would normally crush bones without a pause. They threw each other hard into trees, breaking some younger ones by pure force. The battle was titanic in nature, and Taleth was wholly absorbed in it. So absorbed, he forgot they were not alone. Taleth knocked away a chi strike from Donaxon and his free hand was flying for the big man’s face when Rysabella appeared. Taleth had been so focused in the fight that he dropped his resistance to her, and she took advantage of it. Her hand slipped into his fist and suddenly it stopped moving. Donaxon was fast, faster than should be possible in capitalizing on this opportunity. With a smooth motion he drew the manacles from his belt and struck with them. Taleth leaned back but Rysabella held firm, not letting his hand go free. The manacle passed through Taleth’s wrist until it was around his wrist, where it became solid. Taleth felt the manacle clamp down tightly upon his wrist. The assassin swore and Rysabella released her control of his hand. Donaxon grabbed the other end of the manacle to try and get it to Taleth’s other wrist. Taleth moved swifter this time, pulling his trapped wrist with all his might, sending Donaxon flying overhead. Unfortunately, Donaxon held on tightly and Taleth was suddenly tossed by his own strength, the pair of them tumbling through the air. They struck the tree at the same time and this time Donaxon was faster. Taleth felt the cold touch as the other manacle tightened down on his free wrist. Taleth went to leap back and try to get out of Donaxon’s range but instead of moving, he fell onto his back, landing hard on the ground. His strength was gone. “I can barely move,” he said. His head fell to the side and he saw Donaxon standing up before him, looking down with a surprised look on his face. “I did not expect Iown’s manacles to act like that. Now that’s a surprise.” Taleth swore, mostly to himself. “My strength is all gone,” Taleth said, fighting desperately to gather enough strength to just sit up. “Apparently I was not as well versed on the manacles as I thought,” Donaxon observed, touching his hand to the wound on his face. The cut healed itself quickly. He peered down at Taleth. “It serves you right, having your strength stolen,” Rysabella observed. She scowled down at Taleth but the assassin was not paying her any attention, he was focused on Donaxon. The man’s head came up and he turned around, looking directly at Rysabella. “Well hello there,” he said. “Now where did you come from?” Rysabella took a moment before she reacted. Her scowl vanished and her eyes went wide as she looked back at Donaxon. “What? You can see me?” she asked. Donaxon nodded. “And a lovely young lady you are,” he said. “I’m just curious as to who you are and where you came from. Rysabella said nothing for a moment and then looked from the big man to Taleth and then back. Then, she blinked in recognition and stared not at Taleth, but down at his hands. “The manacles. You must be able to see me because of the manacles!” she said. “They’re brimming over with magic. A God’s magic. That’s why he can see me now.” Rysabella was speaking to herself mostly. Donaxon glanced down at Taleth and then back to Rysabella. “Now I don’t mean to be rude, but I think I’m missing a chapter here and would appreciate it if someone would mind filling me in on the details,” Donaxon said. Rysabella looked at Taleth, her eyes betrayed her anger and rage even if he face was confused. She did truly hate Taleth right now. Taleth managed a sigh with what little strength he had. He had lived a long time being impervious to all damage and in just under an hour, both absolutes in his life had left him. He had no strength and Rysabella knew a truth he had tried to keep hidden from her for every day since she died. * * * Donaxon listened to the story, nodding here and there but not really understanding everything he was being told. It had been an eventful night for the Uri-Van master. He had just beaten an immortal in combat, albeit with some unforeseen help, and now he was listening to a story from the great queen Rysabella. That is, the great former queen Rysabella, as in the deceased. At least, that was what Donaxon had thought. Now though, he found himself deep in confusion. Taleth the Black, the immortal killer of a few volumes worth of people, was lying at his feet. Donaxon sat on a tree that he or Taleth had knocked over in their battle. The great queen Rysabella stood before them both, telling her long tale. Donaxon found himself a little captivated with it, though he did try and keep a hand hold on his emotions. It was a bit surreal, sitting listening to a queen talk about her adventures, especially ones that were somewhat fantastical even to Donaxon. The Jidan had seen his fair share of magic and intrigue, but queen Rysabella seemed to have it all. “And that’s what bring us to today,” Rysabella said, finishing her story. She stopped talking and folded her arms and looked down on Donaxon. The big man let go a breath of air, making a soft sigh. “Well…” Donaxon began. He then paused, not really sure were to go from there. After a few moments of silence, Rysabella smiled. “Yes, I imagine it’s a little much to take in all at one,” she said, softening up a bit in her countenance. “And I apologize for just expunging this on you all of a sudden, but it’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk to anyone.” “But Queen Dayane can see you still, correct?” Donaxon asked, remembering that part of the story, at least. “Yes, but I think Dayane has more things to worry about than a dead queen and a known criminal. Besides, when the queen starts talking to herself, rumors run quickly.” “Ah, I understand that,” Donaxon said, nodding. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, once again digesting everything he heard. Something did not sit well with Donaxon, but unfortunately he did not have any idea why. “Well. Since I am a citizen of the lands, and you were queen at one time, I am subject to your rule. That being said, how can I help?” Rysabella gave his a strange look, as if she herself was confused. Donaxon was used to that look. “Well, I didn’t think you would say that,” she said. Her face scrunched up a little and her lips pursed in thought. “My rule has passed though, when I handed over the Crown of Life….no, when I died it ended, so I’m not going to order you to do anything. But, I would appreciate it if you did two things. First, I’d like you to continue on with the job you have and bring that monster back to Elistan.” Rysabella looked down on Taleth with a look of disgust. Donaxon thought if it was anyone else that they might have spit on the assassin, but a queen would never do that. “And the other one?” Donaxon asked, leaning down. With no trouble the big man picked up Taleth the Black and tossed him over his should. The assassin’s arms hung limply down the Uri-Van master’s back. He was not going anywhere on his own. “Tell no one what I told you, ever.” This time Rysabella’s voice sounded more serious this time. Donaxon smiled nicely and nodded his head at the former queen. “That, I can do as well,” he said. “It’s not really a story that needs repeating anyway. Now then, can you keep up? I don’t really want to keep my client waiting.” “Where he goes, I’m forced to go,” Rysabella said, pointing at Taleth. “At least for a little longer.” * * * Al cursed forgetting her boots. It was a cold night tonight, and her feet were beginning to both ache and chill at the same time. It was an interesting feeling that Al did not really care to experience again if given a chance. Thankfully the forest was filled with oak, ash and various other trees that were devoid of needles. Al did not want to imagine how much pain she would be in where the forest scattered with pine needles. Another vision flashed before her, this one to quick to make out details of. All she saw was two powers clashing with one another and devastation and destruction surrounding them. For some reason, she felt that Lothan was one of them, and it did not feel good for him. When the vision passed, Al took a few more steps, suddenly aware of the devastation and destruction that surrounded her. The trees around her had all fallen, though none had fallen to the blades of the loggers she knew. These trees were knocked down by pure force. This was were her vision took place. Al slowed down her pace, looking around for any indication of anything, praying to the Gods that her visions actually work on command for her. She needed more direction, she needed to see where she must go. For so long the visions were not under her control. This time she needed them to work for her. Unfortunately, the Gods seemed deaf to her pleas and nothing happened. Al sighed and sat down on a fallen tree, taking a rest. She sat down and the visions happened again. She saw, more clearly, the big man who she had seen a while ago in her visions. He was fighting huge, monstrosities that seemed to come up from the ground itself. Though he was doing well for himself, Al felt a sense of dread if he continued his fight solo. Then, to Al’s surprise, she saw herself. She watched herself burst from a small group of trees and start running. She was running for a tower that Al was suddenly aware of. The monsters that the big man was fighting suddenly appeared before the vision of her, striking down with enormous arms. She watched herself step from side to side, avoiding the strikes, even though she could not see some of them coming. Al watched in wonder as she charged straight for the tower, and did so with her eyes closed. The vision stopped and Al found herself sitting on the log again. She stood quickly and turned around, trying to feel where the pull of this vision was coming from. She could feel it, almost see it. It was like a tiny string floating in the air, glowing with a magical red glow. It was where her vision led, it was where she had to go. She knew because she had seen it. The slow realization began to creep up in her. Though she knew her visions were real, and she knew what they may one day lead to, she never let herself admit it. She had been scared of the consequences. Though now, thanks to Lothan finally getting her to realize this was her gift, she was ready to admit. She was becoming a seeress. * * * Rysabella spoke briefly with Donaxon as they moved swiftly through the forests again. The big man seemed a good enough person to the former queen. A stark contrast to the vile and disgusting man Donaxon carried over his shoulder. Taleth had not said a thing since Rysabella related her story to Donaxon. Rysabella was not used to that from Taleth. The assassin always had a quip or spiteful remark to say, but this silence was unnerving Rysabella. “Hmm,” Donaxon said as he suddenly stopped. They were nearing Elistan’s tower, Rysabella could see glimpses of it through the trees. “What is it?” Rysabella asked. “Can you make yourself invisible, or make it so Elistan can’t see you when get there?” Donaxon asked. Rysabella thought this was a strange question. “Yes, I can. Why?” she asked. “I think it would probably be best that Elistan remain in the dark about the fact that I know you exist.” “Do you not trust him? He has always been loyal to the crown and I’ve never know him to even be able to lie. He’s always seemed rather naive to me,” Rysabella gave a little smile. Donaxon smiled back. “No, your majesty, it’s not that. Well, not entirely that. I just believe that we’d both be better off if Elistan did not know,” he said. Rysabella sensed him holding things back. “I don’t know,” Rysabella began. “I can say this, Your Majesty,” Donaxon said, holding up a hand to interrupt her. “I will remain outside of the tower even after I get my payment for Taleth. I am sad to say that I am skeptical of Elistan’s claim. The Uri-Van are in touch with all of life, including the other end of it, death, and I am acutely aware that death is a finality that none may breech. If Elistan truly has found a way to return a spirit to a body, this magic must not be used ill-advised. It’s my duty as Jidan to make sure the use of it is extremely restricted.” Rysabella suddenly felt small in this man’s presence. He spoke gently but she could feel the very power behind his voice. He was not concerned about just himself, he was worried about everything. Rysabella felt selfish all of a sudden. She had never thought about the magic, she had only thought she would have been able to be free. She never thought of the consequences. Then, in less than a night, a complete stranger had heard the entire story and was able to look past it all and see what needed to be seen. Jidan Donaxon was an amazing man. “You make a very good point, Jidan,” Rysabella said. “And I will gladly cede to it. If this works, and I pray to the Gods that it does, then I will come out here and greet you myself, and you will have my assurance that Elistan will take this magic to his grave. If it does not work,” Rysabella smiled wryly. “Well, if that’s the case then you will have nothing to worry about. Is that satisfactory?” Donaxon nodded. “I trust your words, your majesty,” Donaxon said. “Thank you, I hope to see you again very soon, Jidan Donaxon,” Rysabella said, bowing slightly to the Uri-Van master. He returned the courtesy. Rysabella willed herself back into Taleth’s mind. She felt a pull when she did, and instead of where she wanted to end up, in a field of his mind, far away from any memories, she ended up sitting in a chair in the small house. She was also aware of eyes looking at her. The Taleth she was looking for earlier was seated in a chair directly across from her. It was night time out, which confused Rysabella since it had never been like that before, and a fire was roaring in the fireplace. “Well,” the figment of Taleth started. He was not his usual self. His eyes pierced when they stared at her, not the warm glow she usually associated with him. “We seem to have an issue here that needs addressing.” His eyes stared at her over his steeped fingers. She could barely see his mouth as he spoke. Though she knew that this Taleth was unlike the real one, she steeled herself in a comfortable cloak of anger. “You knew,” she threw out accusingly. Taleth shrugged. “I know everything he knows,” he replied. “But I also respect that knowledge and if he saw fit not to let you know then so be it. It was not my place to tell.” “You have some gall saying that,” Rysabella said. “You both have some gall. He destroyed my life and you just sit there, keeping his sins a secret.” “There again,” he said. “What right do you have in demanding to know that secret? What right do I have in giving up that secret? Does the fact that I know mean I must tell? Does that fact that it involves you mean you deserve to know? These questions all have one answer: Taleth’s life and Taleth’s flawless memory are his own, you and I have no power over it. Yes, it’s true that I know everything he does, but I am not him, nor he I. We are separate, regardless of what you’d like to think, and that means we must make our own decisions. Just because I think something’s a good idea it doesn’t mean he’ll go along with it. And in the end, I am in here and he’s out there. I’m limited.” Rysabella’s eyes narrowed shrewdly at him as he spoke. She knew him for many years and she would agree, he was like a different person. Like. Although she knew that he was Taleth, through and through. But something about what he said gave her pause. “So then what exactly are you?” she asked suspiciously. “I’m a friend, or at least I was,” he said. He gave a sigh. “But now there is far too much hatred in you to be able to see past…pretty much anything. You see what looks like an end of one life and a beginning of another, but I don’t think you truly know what you have. But you can not trust me so I can not help you this time.” “What do you mean?” “The only reason you’re in here is because I let you in. He’s blocked you, more efficiently then you could ever imagine. With his physical strength gone all he has left is his mental strength, and that is nearly limitless. He’s letting me have this conversation because he feels he owes me. But once we’re done, and you let this ritual happen, I won’t be able to let you back in here.” “Why would I want to come back here?” Rysabella asked. She could see no reason. Taleth simply shrugged in response. “Not many know the future for certain,” he said spreading his hands. “So if you know what he knows, why was he running away? What was he so afraid of back there with that memory?” “He was not afraid for himself. He was afraid for--” The roof exploded and suddenly there were thunderous rain clouds overhead, the like Rysabella had never seen in the mortal realm. Lightning struck the ground all around Taleth. Rysabella jumped in her seat but Taleth remained motionless. “You cannot scare me into silence, Taleth,” he said. “I will tell her the truth as I see fit.” Booms of thunder tried to drown him out but to no avail. “And throwing a tantrum will not stop me.” As quickly as the lightning and thunder have began, the stopped. Though the roof was still gone, and the storm clouds still loomed ominously overhead. ‘What was that?” Rysabella asked, trying to calm herself. “That was an ungracious host. And now what he’s angry I will say what I have to say and then you’ll be off. Taleth is not afraid for himself, he’s afraid for you. I can offer you no more than that, otherwise I would not be able to give you this last piece of advice.” “What advice?” “Listen to the voice inside your own head,” Taleth said. The world started darkening and Rysabella realized the fire was putting itself out. Slowly things became less and less tangible. “Not all of us have a voice like you in our heads,” Rysabella said. Taleth laughed from his chair, and Rysabella realized that she could no longer make out any of his features in the encroaching darkness. He was only an outline. “That is true, most do not have a voice like me,” he said. Though she could not make him out, she could hear his voice perfectly. “But you do, Rysabella. You do.” Rysabella was now surrounded by complete darkness, she could not see a thing for the fire had now gone out. “Wait! What?” Rysabella called to the darkness. “Good luck, your majesty,” Taleth said. * * * He sighed as he watched her vanish form the chair. He leaned back in his own chair and looked up at the storm clouds. They made the night even darker and the rolled around in a violent anger that he knew was not natural. Not that this world which existed in Taleth’s mind was natural to begin with. The whole idea of it made him sigh again. “You overstepped your boundary there,” Taleth said from his side. Thought his physical body was sapped of strength, the mental image of Taleth was strong and stood tall. His black cloak was wrapped tightly around him, keeping the mild wind that blew around from biting at him. The Taleth in the chair turned and spared him a glance. “No, I did what I thought right,” he retorted. “I do have that ability, you know. Are you really okay with this?” The real Taleth shook his head at the Taleth who sat in the chair. “No, but her life is her own,” he said. “Besides, like you said, who am I to tell her what I know?” Once again Taleth sighed and looked back to the clouds. The Taleth at his side vanished and he was once again left alone in his chair. “You’re her friend, Taleth,” he said. “Whether you can admit that or not, it’s the truth.” He sighed again. He realized he was sighing a lot tonight. “I hope one of you can realize it before it’s too late.” * * * Donaxon bowed to Elistan. He was right in assuming that the sorcerer was going to be waiting for him at the tower. Elistan stood in a doorway that was not normally there. He looked overly anxious, like a kid about to get a treat. All of Donaxon senses were twitching. The Uri-Van master had worked for shady individuals before, and he knew to trust his senses. Elistan seemed like an honest person. He seemed to be true to his desire to save his queen. And it was true, Taleth did murder Rysabella, and was able to get away from it all without any punishment. Donaxon did not care for crimes going unpunished, it was a virtue that the other Jidans would tease him about. Old age had relaxed their morals, but Donaxon tended to hold onto his as much as he could. “I see the manacles did their job,” Elistan observed. He held up and hand and Donaxon felt Taleth’s body lifted from his shoulder. The assassin floated over to Elistan and the sorcerer looked over him appraisingly. Donaxon noticed that Taleth did not even bother to look up at Elistan. “I must admit, Jidan Donaxon, I actually doubted your ability to capture this one.” The sorcerer smiled at Donaxon. “Though never have I ever been so happy to have been wrong. You will truly go down in legend.” Donaxon bowed again. “I thank you for the praise, though the battle itself was a reward I will keep with me,” Donaxon said. “Ah yes, money,” Elistan said. He snapped his fingers and a large pouch appeared in front of Donaxon. The Jidan reached out and took hold of the pouch, feeling it out and making sure it weighed the right amount. Satisfied, he pocketed the pouch. “Well now then, I appreciate your help and release you from you contract.” “Thank you, Sir,” Donaxon nodded. “I will probably remain in the forest for tonight though, I need to heal myself and nature helps that process immensely.” Donaxon was watching and catch a flash of anger or confusion, he was not fully sure, from Elistan. It was only a moment, but Donaxon saw it. He was right, something was not right. Elistan smiled and nodded. “Of course!” he said. “I’d offer you some aid but I’m afraid most of my magic will be going into my experiments tonight, but I will do what I can for you in the morning.” “Thank you, but I am sure I’ll be fine,” Donaxon smiled. “I will take my leave now. Good night, Elistan.” The Jidan turned on his heel and started walking away from the tower. He spared a glance back but Elistan, Taleth and the doorway which was there a moment ago had vanished. * * * Rysabella was in darkness for a while. She was unable to sense outside while she remained in this darkness. Though she would never had admitted it to anyone, she was a little afraid of this darkness. However, her anger was still present, though now it had started to subside and be replace with apprehension. Apprehension to what, she could not say. “Your Majesty?” Elistan’s voice came through the darkness. Rysabella glanced around to try and locate the source of the sound. She was aware of a small light in the distance. Suddenly she was moving towards it faster and faster, until she could clearly see it. It was the orb of magic that floated in Elistan’s tower. Rysabella looked around and found that she was standing in the center room of the tower once again. She looked down at her body, which was now sitting in the middle of a circle of magic runes. “Ah, good. I was afraid for a moment. I had been calling your name but you did not seem to be responding.” Rysabella turned to Elistan. He had an eager smile on his face, one that also spoke of his relief. She was not aware of how many time he must have called her but from the looks of it, it was a few. The sorcerer had his staff in his hand, a long piece of oak with a carved hourglass on the top. She had not seen this staff or its bearer for many years, and memories started flooding back to her. Mellara and Rysabella had been as one once Rysabella became queen. Mellara had been her friend before she was queen and she was determined to remain friends even after. Although Mellara was a sorceress, and possibly countless years older than Rysabella, the queen never asked Mellara her age since one just did not ask those questions, she was a great friend and confidant. Elistan had been one of Mellara’s apprentices, and, after a bit of coaxing, the two ladies were able to get him to come out of his shell. She had good memories of him. Mellara had mentioned that Elistan had opened up to Rysabella more than she had ever seen him before. Rysabella had thought that was funny, but she also made sure she used that. Elistan was a good person, but he was overly shy sometimes. Rysabella worked to get him to open up to everyone, not just herself. She really did trust him. Mellara also must have trusted Elistan since she trusted the queen’s body with him. He must have accepted without knowing the consequences. He had apparently been guarding the body for a long time, without knowing anything about what happened to her. He simply stood guard, ever waiting. It was almost…romantic. “Your Majesty?” Elistan asked again. Rysabella realized she had spaced out for a moment. She smiled and looked back at Elistan. “Elistan,” she said. “I remember trying forever to get you to call me Rysabella.” Elistan smiled back at her. “I know, your majesty, but I don’t think I could,” Elistan said. “I’m not even queen anymore, Elistan. That ended a long time ago. You shouldn’t use that title for me anymore.” “You’ll always be my queen, your majesty,” Elistan said bowing slightly. “I can’t imagine you as anything else, so you’ll have to excuse my speech.” Elistan gave a little knowing smile and Rysabella felt good. This was still the same old Elistan she knew. Time had done nothing to him. “We’ll see. If this works then I’ll be able to push you around again until you call me Rysabella,” Rysabella said with a little laugh. Elistan looked back up at her and his smile broadened. “When it works, your majesty. You taught me to be positive about things, so it’s when it works that you can bully me around all you want.” Rysabella could not stop smiling, and it felt good. Though, she found it very difficult when she looked to the side and saw Taleth sitting there. He was still wearing the manacles but he was now also chained up against the wall. Elistan must have followed her gaze. “I apologize that the second person you’ll see when you return to your body will be him but I need him close so I can keep an eye on him and also so you don’t get pulled out of the circle.” Elistan’s voice was hard when he spoke about Taleth. Rysabella found the measures to be acceptable though. “Don’t apologize, Elistan,” Rysabella said. “I understand you have my best interests in mind.” She glanced over at him to watch him beam at her. He took her words well. “Thank you, your majesty,” Elistan said. “Now, if you would just remain within the circle of runes with your body, I’ll begin the ritual. I had searched through all my books when I found this ritual. Though I’ve had to alter some of it, I know if will work. I will disconnect you from Taleth and move the connection back to your own body. Though I don’t know how difficult it will be to sever the connection to Taleth.” “I don’t think you’ll have much problem,” Rysabella said, her face darkening as she looked down upon the man she had been with for a long time. “He’s probably severed most of the connection already on his own tonight.” Taleth did not bother lifting his head. It just hung down, his face staring at the floor. “I hope so, your majesty. That is the one wild card I do not fully understand. But I think you can understand if I say I don’t have the luxury of waiting to find out. I don’t know if Taleth will get his strength back and I can’t afford to lose you a second time.” Rysabella only barely heard that list bit. She thought it odd, but let it pass. She was probably just confusing the meaning. He just meant that she had already died once. That’s what it was. Rysabella heard him begin chanting and she could sense magic flowing through the room more and more. Though she told herself to stay focused on Elistan, she found herself drawn back to Taleth. Seeing him there, helpless, Rysabella felt a pang of pity. Taleth had been immortal for so long, sitting there unable to do anything must have been terrible. But he deserved it, she thought to herself. He has committed terrible crimes in his life and had paid for none of them. This was divine retribution. It was a final punishment from the gods to be there helpless. But something still rang in her head. Something she was unsure of. “Listen to your voice,” the Taleth inside the assassin’s mind had told her. She still wondered at that. She knew how she felt, betrayed, alone, angry, but she did not feel any voice telling her what to do. Curious, she sent out a thought. “What am I supposed to be doing, then?” she thought. Though she expected no answer she knew, looking down at Taleth, that she wanted someone else to make this decision for her. Looking down on Taleth she knew she felt pity, but she also felt sadden. Not sadden that he had betrayed her, but saddened that after this, she might not ever see him again. * * * Taleth heard the chanting but did not care. Soon the ritual would begin and that would be the end of that. The end of what though Taleth did not really know. Or maybe, he did know but just did not care. His physical weakness was terrible but not something Taleth would have been stopped for. What did stop him was Rysabella. He had ignored her many times before but he had never blocked her out completely before. But this was different. She knew part of a secret that he kept to himself so long and though her information was misinterpreted, she was obviously already believing it. Yes, she did not know the whole truth, but it was not something Taleth wanted to risk. “You should risk it,” came a voice in his head. “She deserves that much.” Taleth ignored the voice. The voice had said his part already to Rysabella, and nothing he could say would convince Taleth to do anything more. It was, after all, her life, not his. “Go away,” Taleth threw back into his mind. The voice was silent. Taleth wanted to be alone again. Alone. Taleth thought about that. It had been a very long time since he was all alone. In fact, it had been all the way back to when he was mortal. He was an assassin, the loneliest profession there was. He had been fine with it back then. He was always alone back then, others would only be a liability. But that was taken from him, and he was forced out of his solitary life. But now that he was alone again, he found he did not like it, as much as that feeling made him hate himself. Taleth did not know what he hated more, being alone or the thought that Rysabella was going to die once the ritual was performed. “If you’re agonizing that much, then you need to get up and stop the ritual,” came a voice. This voice was not the voice he was used to hearing. First off, it was a woman’s voice. Secondly, it was coming from directly in front of him. Taleth found what strength he could and lifted his head up to look before him. He was a little surprised to find that he was now staring into the eyes of a Goddess. * * * Donaxon sat and meditated. Meditation was the first discipline taught to any student of the Uri-Van. Meditation lets one become focused within their self. It was a great way to begin the physical healing process, and that was the main reason that Donaxon was meditating right now. The other reason, though smaller, was that Meditation was a solitary act that gained one plenty of time to think, and that was also what Donaxon was doing now. He had a lot to think about as well. He digested a lot this evening, and something told him that his night was far from over. He kept himself focused, trying to find that center in his chi, the life force all Uri-Van can master control of, and wrap himself in it. He did have some trouble with it though right now. He kept thinking about Elistan, and how something was not sitting right with him. Unfortunately, the feeling was not one that was helping his meditation so, with a sigh, Donaxon stood up. His muscles ached but at least any of the major wounds he took in his fight with Taleth the Black were healed. Donaxon thought back to the fight and he knew, without a doubt, that he would have lost that fight. Taleth was immortal, and tireless, which meant in a battle that was fought more by attrition rather than skill the assassin would always win. That was where the battle was going. Donaxon had thrown every Uri-Van taught skill he could think of, even some he invented on his own, but Taleth was undeterred. Donaxon doubted even his blood axe, a weapon he was lax in using since it would drain all his energy, could have dented Taleth. The Uri-Van master stretched his arms and he started walking back towards the tower. He was sensing some more emanations of magic from it and, when he switched his vision to the magic spectrum, he could see a torrent of energies, different from how the tower looked earlier in the day when Donaxon had first arrived. The Jidan slowed down as he neared the tower. That was the same time that the ground erupted. An enormous hand made of rock, soil and tree reached from the ground where Donaxon stood. Donaxon watched as fingers reached up and closed around him. His chi erupted from his hands and feet in response. The big man was much stronger than earth and rock. His palms struck the fingers as they closed down on him and chi flooded down into the ground shattering the earthen hand. Donaxon flipped backwards, coming up in a ready position wary of another attack. The ground around him began to rumble and his eyes shifted through the magical spectrum. From the ground he saw rise an enormous creature made of the earth. It stood several times Donaxon’s height, even hunched over as it was. Its legs were like trunks of trees but it’s hands were made of rock and soil. It had a gaping mouth of jagged diamonds that shone in the moonlight. This was some sort of elemental, Donaxon recognized. Though he knew what it was he had never seen its like before. The one that erupted from the ground was also missing one hand, presumably the one that Donaxon had just destroyed a moment ago. The elemental reached down and put the stub of a hand into the ground. When it pulled it back out a hand was attached again and there was a large hole in the ground. Donaxon sighed. “Why does it always happen to me?” he asked aloud. As if in response, four more of the monstrosities pulled themselves up from the ground. Donaxon could not help but laugh. One of the monsters reached over and pulled a rather large oak tree from the ground. It hefted it easily and swung it at Donaxon. The Jidan leapt over it, barely missing the huge trunk. “That’s it,” he said as he landed. “I am never going to volunteer to do these odd jobs anymore. I’m cursed.” Donaxon put himself into a deeper stance, readying his hands and summoning his chi. One of the monsters was already bearing down on him. “Damn cursed, I say.” * * * Rysabella felt the tingle of magic all over her. The ritual had begun and the magical runes on the flow began pulsing over and over again, changing their colors many times in the process. She looked from Elistan down to her own body. He body was outlined in a soft glow, but so far she had known nothing that had been going on with this ritual. This was higher magic than she had known, even with the Crown of Life. Rysabella was both anxious and a little scared as she kept looking back and forth between her body and Elistan. Though she felt confidant in Elistan’s abilities, there’s always a doubt somewhere against magic. Of course, Rysabella was also afraid of getting her hopes up just to have them dashed. She had gone so long thinking that she was dead and that was not going to change. Now, however, she had a shred of hope. Though she did realize that shred came with an emotional price. Her gaze drifted down to where Taleth was chained to the wall. She was a little surprised to see that his head was up. He was gazing off more in Elistan’s direction but he was not looking at the sorcerer. His eyes seemed to be glazed over and he looked as if he was hallucinating. Rysabella could see the edges of his mouth moving slightly. Was he talking? Yes, Rysabella thought to herself. He must be talking. But to who? Was this an after affect of the magic? Is he alright? The last question gave Rysabella pause. And she found herself wondering why she actually cared. This was the man who had killed her, and done so with no reason. He deserved whatever punishment he was getting. It was long overdue in Rysabella’s opinion. She resolved herself to stop thinking about Taleth now, she needed to focus on the positive, on what was happening now. She turned back to Elistan. At least she thought she turned back. All of a sudden she was standing in the middle of blackness. She could see herself but it was like she was in a room that was painted completely black. Her heart started beating faster. She had no idea where she was. “Well it’s about time,” came a familiar voice from behind her. Rysabella spun in a circle, seeing something piercing the blackness. It was a bed, her bed to be precise. Her bed when she was queen, anyway, and lounging on it, reading a book, was herself. Or at least someone who looked just like her. The other Rysabella picked up a feather and placed it in the book and closed the book, the feather keeping her place. She looked up at Rysabella and smiled. “I was beginning to think we’d never meet.” “Who are you?” Rysabella asked the other. Before her counterpart answered she knew. “He told you to listen to the voice in your head,” the other Rysabella said, stretching out on the bed. Rysabella stared. The other Taleth had been right. This was who he said she had in her head. Rysabella also realized that this was most definitely not her in the same sense that the two Taleths were separate. Though they shared the same body, this Rysabella was obviously different. Rysabella noted the clothes, or rather lack there of. The other Rysabella wore a risqué nightgown; one Rysabella would never have been caught dead in. Even the way the moved was different. The other Rysabella got up off the bed and sauntered over to Rysabella. The queen would never have sauntered. Years of rule had taught Rysabella to be proper, at least as much as possible. The person she was staring at now was obviously on the other side of the proper scale. And that made Rysabella wonder, was this the person she wanted to be? That was how she always figured the other Taleth was, but since his cryptic conversation she had wondered about what he really was. “Don’t agonize over it, Dear,” the other Rysabella said, snapping the queen from her thoughts. “It’ll only lead to trouble. Just assume I’m your conscious, and we’ll get along much better.” “I don’t think you’re my conscious,” the queen said, looking the doppelganger up and down. The other Rysabella laughed, a real laugh, coming from within. “Oh no, Dear, I am not. But I said you should just assume it.” The other Rysabella walked past the queen and Rysabella turned around to watch her go. As she turned she saw that though the world was still black she could now see both Elistan and Taleth. Taleth was still chained and Elistan was deep in thought and concentration with the ritual. “Now then, what do we have here?” “What are you talking about?” Rysabella asked. “It’s almost like those romantic sagas the bards sing about,” the other Rysabella said, sounding almost excited. “Her you are, Dear, trapped between two men you love, not knowing which way to go. Did one betray you? Is the other a liar? Who truly loves you? Which one should you let into your bed? Oh it’s so poetic.” “What?! No! I don’t love them,” Rysabella said vehemently. She could feel her face becoming reddened. “Not like the way you suggest, anyway.” The other Rysabella laughed again, glancing back and smiling a knowing smile. “I was using it as an example, Dear,” she said. “I know what’s in your heart, I know that you see both of these men as your friends, even if you’re trying to convince yourself otherwise of that one.” She pointed to Taleth. “But let’s think about this one first,” she said as she walked over to Elistan. “Now what do you really know about this one, hmm? Over a hundred years guarding your body…he either has an honorable sense of justice, or something is wrong with him.” “Elistan is a good person,” Rysabella said, feeling she needed to defend him from herself. Rysabella was beginning to get a headache as she realized she was arguing with herself. “There’s no doubt in my mind….well in your mind anyway…that the Elistan you knew was a good man, and an above average sorcerer. And you were friends, though not as close as yourself and Mellara, he was still someone you would confide in from time to time. And it was good to have a male’s opinion on matters sometimes, I’m sure. Plus, he’s cute.” Rysabella fought down the redness that was once again creeping up her cheeks. “Even you can see he’s a good man,” Rysabella said. The other Rysabella smiled and patted Elistan on the cheek. “Yes, he is a good boy, isn’t he…which makes one wonder even more about him. Him on the other hand,” the other Rysabella pointed to Taleth. “He is not even close to a good boy. He’s a liar, a cheat, a murderer and he gets paid to do all those, which makes every use of his skills that much more detestable. He has no morals, ethics or even kindness in his heart. Truly the world would be better without him.” “No, he’s not that bad.” Rysabella spoke without realizing it. He hands came up and covered her mouth. She was the one who spoke but she had not told herself to. The other Rysabella glanced back at her with here eyebrow’s arched. “Oh?” she said. “He’s not that bad? If he’s not that bad then why is it that you feel a great sense of rage every time you look at him? If he’s not that bad then why are you ready to abandon him?” “He murdered me!” Rysabella shouted, gaining control of herself again. She did not know where the outburst that had defended Taleth had come from but she was afraid she’d lose control of herself again. “Did he?” the other Rysabella said, her face suddenly looking upward as if she was pondering something. She tapped her finger against her chin as she thought. “How?” When Rysabella did not answer the other continued on. “Did he stab you in the heart? Did he cut your throat? Did he suffocate you with your pillow? Did he slice you in twain? How exactly did he kill you, Rysabella?” The other Rysabella’s voice became harder as she asked the questions in rapid succession. She stood up next to Taleth and faced Rysabella. “Well..” Rysabella began. “No!” the other shouted. “He did not kill you. Did you ever bother to think about that? You’ve seen Taleth’s memory. Did you see any wounds on you? Yes, Taleth drew his dagger, but did you ever see him use it? No. But it’s so easy to blame him for everything, isn’t it?” The other Rysabella sighed and he shoulder dropped a little. “It’s so sad, Dear. It’s truly sad. Being queen was probably the worst thing that could have happened to you.” “What? What do you mean? I helped the lands as best I could,” Rysabella said, feeling the need to defend herself. “No, Dear, I’m not attacking your reign. I agree with you, more so than you do. You were the greatest queen the lands had ever known. You were just and kind and brought prosperity and hope to those who had none.” The other Rysabella’s face soften a little. “But it cost you, Dear. Being a queen made you think with your head. You had to, though, otherwise injustices would continue. But it steeled you. And that is why you’re here now, agonizing over this.” “Well if I’m not supposed to think with my head what should I do?” Rysabella asked. Her doppelganger suddenly appeared in front of her and tapped her hard on he chest. “With your heart, Dear,” she said. “You’ve been ignoring it for a long time because as a queen you did not have the luxury. You had to think ‘what would happen’ too often and would ignore what your heart would say. And since then you’ve just continued on that path.” “I think with my heart all the time,” Rysabella said, angry that anyone would think otherwise. “I’ve acted as Taleth’s conscious more often than he has. He’s even admitted that fact.” “And yet right now you think him heartless…” The other Rysabella said from behind her. Rysabella watched as Taleth and Elistan vanished. She spun around and saw the other Rysabella settling herself back on the bed. She took up the book she had been reading again. “So you think I should side with Taleth then?” Rysabella asked, surprised that she really wanted this stranger’s opinion. “No,” her other self said. “I don’t want you to side with anyone. All I want from you is to listen to your heart. And in the end, what he told you about himself was truth. We can not do anything because we are in here, and you are out there. We can only offer advice.” Rysabella realized she was talking about what the other Taleth had told her. “Your decision must be your own. You’re both too strong of individuals to be able to live life being told what to do by others, Dear.” “So you’ve left me with nothing more?” Rysabella asked. She was surprised to find herself choking on the words. She could feel her eyes watering and she realized that she was beginning to cry. The other Rysabella sighed and made a brushing motion with her hand just in front of her. Rysabella felt a light touch on her cheek and felt a tear being brushed away. “No, Dear. I’ve left you with a choice that only you can make.” The other Rysabella’s voice was wavering. She looked affected by Rysabella’s own mood. Then the other Rysabella gave a small smile. “And I know you’ll make the right one, Dear. I know you will.” The black suddenly vanished and Rysabella once again stood in the center of the magical runes. Elistan and Taleth were still in their positions. Everything was as it was when it all went black. The only difference now were the tears that were streaming down Rysabella’s cheeks. * * * Al was awed by the big man’s movement. There were about a half dozen of the monsters, all of them attacking him at once, he ducked, dodged and rolled his way through them. They attacked him, he smashed back at them. But tough she watched him destroy parts of the monsters here and there they would always grow back and regenerate their lost parts. Al had seen him in the vision, but he was also fighting with another, though right now he was alone. Though Al could not give pause to think about this, because she knew she was close. She did not full understand what trouble Lothan was in, or how any of what was happening was related to that, but she knew she had to act. She looked from the monsters to the tower. She could see no door on the tower, but she knew she could get in. She also knew that when she started running the monsters would go after her as well. But she had also seen herself make it to the tower. Was that the true future? Was she going to make it? Breathing in deeply she tried to steady herself. She had to try, she owed it to herself. She just kept thinking about Lothan as she took a few cautious steps from the safety of the trees where she was hidden. Nothing happened, even after she start to break into a run. Suddenly then, the earth erupted and more monsters like the ones that were attacking the big man popped out from the ground. They reached and grabbed for Al. She lowered her head and continued running, focusing on her memory of the vision. She saw herself run just as she was running now. She stepped from side to side as her vision had done. She could heard shouts from behind her and assumed that the big man had now noticed her, but she did not want to break her stride. She kept running, eventually running right through the wall of the tower. * * * Her name was Nalia, and she was the Goddess of Love. Taleth had seen many sculptures and paintings of Nalia since she was one of the more well-known and worshipped gods, but none of those pieces of art looked like the being that stood before him right now. Though he did know that this was Nalia and that she was the Goddess of Love, that thought was no doubt planted directly in his head by the goddess. She did look the part, in Taleth’s opinion, of the Goddess of Love. She had long blonde tresses that cascaded down her head and over her shoulders like a golden waterfall. She wore a silk gown that was a pale pink and fit her frame…well it fit perfectly, and Taleth was not that surprised. “What?” Taleth asked. He did feel a little out of it right now. He had no physical strength right now. He was amazed he could muster the strength to talk at all. The goddess looked down on him with eyes of the most striking violet, and she looked a little angry. “I said why don’t you get up and stop this ritual,” the goddess replied. She crossed her arms and looked down on him. It was a stance that he hand encountered before, since Rysabella used that stance against him all the time. Taleth wondered a moment if this might be a hallucination but something told him he was not going to get that lucky. This was a god. “Why would you care?” Taleth asked, acutely aware that he just asked that question of a god. He had been immortal a long time, and habits were hard to break. “Because it’s wrong, and you know that,” Nalia replied. “And you also know the truth, and you know what is going to happen. You can probably stop this just with one memory.” Taleth managed to chuckle a little. “No,” Taleth said. “I can’t, and I’m more interested in why you’re here at all.” “Because this is happening, Taleth the Black,” said Poryan, the God of the Harvest. He appeared at Nalia’s side, dressed as much as like Gregor as anything. Taleth knew who he was the same way that he knew who Nalia was, the thought was put into his head. He held Taleth with a stern gaze and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He even had himself a deep farmer’s tan. Taleth looked between the two gods who were standing before him. A long standing question was suddenly answered for him. “You’re the reason I’m in the predicament in the first place,” Taleth said accusingly. “You’re the reason I’m immortal at all.” “Yes and no,” said Owe, the Goddess of Wisdom. She appeared next to Nalia and was a stark contrast. Her hair was as dark as night and pilled high on her head. Her outfit was less flamboyant than Nalia, for Owe looked as if she were a schoolteacher rather than a high noble at a ball. Taleth would have found their appearances slightly amusing had he the strength to laugh louder. “You are immortal and the gods did have their hands in it, but we are not the reason you’re here. You’re here because you, nobody else.” “Your choices led you hear, Taleth,” Nalia said. “We’re here to tell you that you need to make the right ones.” “Well you all are here now,” Taleth said, letting his head roll back and his eyes close. “You can take care of that all on your own. You are, after all, gods.” “No Taleth, you have to be the one who solves this problem,” said Iown, the God of Judgment said. Taleth did not bother to open his eyes, he knew that the god would be towering over him right now, like the other ones. Taleth did not like this. The part of him he kept grounded in reality screamed at him. Something was wrong. Gods do not all show up somewhere simply because they think it would be fun. Taleth had done something. What it was he was no fully certain of though. “We’re not here because of what you have done, Taleth,” said Faowind, Goddess of Faith and Mercy. This time, Taleth raised his head and opened his eyes again. The other gods had all stepped back and gave the great Goddess Faowind the room she deserved. Faowind was one of the older and more powerful gods, though Taleth was not going to challenge any of the gods to a fist fight. She looked down on him with sadness in her eyes. Taleth’s memories went immediately to his own mother. “No, stop that!” Taleth said, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. He knew that was the goddess’ power. “Very well,” Faowind said. The memories of his mother receded into the depths of his mind again. Taleth opened his eyes and looked back into those sad eyes, and promptly felt terrible with himself. “But like I said, we’re not here because of what you have done, Taleth, but rather what you are doing right now.” “You know what happens when this ritual is completed, Taleth,” said Reniqe, the Goddess of Death. She stood in direct contrast with the great mother Faowind just as Nalia and Owe were in contrast to one another. The Goddess of Death wore only a black robe with nothing beneath it, at all. She looked down at him with black eyes and her white hair blew in a nonexistent breeze. “As well as you do, my old friend,” Taleth said with a smile to Reniqe. She had been one of the few gods Taleth had seen before. Assassins often tell tales of the Goddess of Death, that is, if the assassins actually talk to one another. “And you’re going to allow that?” came the voice of Sedait, the God of Magic. Sedait was not like the other gods, he appeared only as a being of blue flame. There was the outline of a man inside that blue flame, though. “It’s her decision, not mine,” Taleth said. “She saw what she saw and reacted as she reacted. She is not me, and I am not her.” “What she saw was not the truth,” Faowind spoke again. “And I think she knows it as well as you know it, Taleth.” The great mother’s hand went up to Rysabella, standing atop the stairs with her body. Taleth could see, most likely with the aid of the gods, that there were now tears streaming down her face. Taleth turned away and found himself staring at the Goddess of Luck, Kit. This goddess was not standing over him but rather was sitting cross legged and was rolling a coin over her knuckles. Her red hair framed a young face. “We could bet on what she knows,” Kit proposed. She held her hand up in front of her and a pair of dice appeared held between her fingers. “No, Kit,” came the voice of Noriel, the God of Men. Taleth glanced up and saw before him the most powerful of all the known gods. Noriel was nothing special to look at, he looked as average as anyone who Taleth had walked by in the past century. His sandy brown hair and lighter complexion gave nothing away as much as his blue eyes. The God of Men looked down at Taleth and, for the first time since he had met the Great Mage Ryaxlan when he was a young boy, Taleth felt awed. “He cannot be tricked. He cannot be bribed. He cannot be forced. He must do this on his own.” “But you can’t tell me why,” Taleth said, finishing for the god. “No Taleth, we cannot tell you. We can only say that we are attempting to fix an injustice that happened. Unfortunately, the injustice is something only you can fix at this time. All we can do is ask.” Taleth was suddenly aware of the room being filled, wall to wall. All the known gods appeared before Taleth, filling the room. Their names and titles flooded his mind. Neither Elistan nor Rysabella paid them any notice, but Taleth was not surprised. “Please, Taleth,” Faowind asked. Taleth heard other pleas as well, each of the gods and goddesses saying their own. Taleth looked around at the various faces of the gods. This was not right. Gods should never ask. Especially with something that was so minor. “Maybe instead of sitting there in awe and wonder you should do what they ask,” said a familiar voice from deep within Taleth’s own mind. “You shut up,” Taleth said angrily. Though he faced the gods when he spoke, they seemed to understand his anger was not directed at them. Taleth turned his gaze back to Faowind and Noriel, who stood side by side. “No,” he said. The two gods gave no reaction. “I will not do what you ask of me for the very reason that you ask it.” Taleth found his strength returning and using the wall as a support, he started standing himself up. The chains around him broke themselves as he stood up. “What I do is my own choice, and not even the gods can stop me. I am immortal, and right now I don’t think you can stop me if I wanted to leave.” “This is true,” Noriel said. “Good,” Taleth said. “Then get out of my sight. I never want to see any of you again.” Taleth steadied himself and clenched his fists hard. He took a step away from the wall, and then another, slowly gauging what strength he had. As he took another step the gods vanished and Taleth was left alone to continue his walk to the top of the stairs. * * * Though Taleth was not aware, when he steadied himself to take that first step, the ring he wore on his finger snapped, and then broke into a million pieces. * * *

It was Gregor who caused Taleth to nearly rethink his plan. Taleth was working on a field plow in the forge when Gregor had asked him a favor. “We were wondering if you wouldn’t mind looking after Al for a few days?” he asked. Taleth’s hand nearly slipped. “Pardon?” Taleth asked, looking up from his work. Gregor did not notice the pause in Taleth’s work. “Where are you and Miryan going? “Well, it’s the local market time so we’re going to have to bring our crop to barter and usually we have Al go stay with Rek, which both don’t seem to care for but Rek owes Miryan for some help she gave him so he usually is tolerant with it. But, since this time we have you around, we’d ask you if you wouldn’t mind watching after her. We think she’d not mind it so much when we’d leave her this time if you were the one looking after her.” “Well how long are you going to gone for?” Taleth asked. “Well…” Gregor started. “As far as Al will know, three days.” “Something sounds fishy here, Gregor,” Taleth observed. His eyebrow arched at the farmer. Gregor smiled shyly. “Well yes,” Gregor started. “You see Al’s birthday is in two days, and we usually have to miss it since the market always lands on it. Since you’re here though we thought we’d surprise her by sneaking back home the night before her birthday. There’s really nobody here we would have trusted with keeping this secret.” “How many birthdays have you missed?” Taleth asked, a little taken off guard. Rysabella looked strangely at Taleth. It had been a long time since she had seen Taleth act like this. She was beginning to think that Taleth was starting to care for Al. “The last seven, unfortunately,” Gregor said with a sigh and a shaking of his head. “We have lots to make up for, but since the rest of the town has seen fit to remove us from their lives we always had to make due without any help.” Taleth remained silent for a moment. Rysabella could tell he was thinking fast about whether or not this had any implications on his schedule. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” Taleth said, smiling at Gregor. “I think that’s something she’ll really enjoy and I’ll happily play along with the subterfuge.” Gregor got a great big grin on his face. “Great!” he exclaimed. “Miryan will be so happy about this. She was a little worried about asking you this in the first place, but I think that’s just her overbearing mothering about Al..” Taleth smiled knowingly. Miryan was mostly worried that Al would have another one of her visions and she wanted to be there if her daughter was in trouble. “Tell Miryan that while you are gone, I’ll look after Al as if she were my own daughter. That should at least calm her long enough for you two to have an easier trip.” Both Taleth and Gregor chuckled at this. “I will,” Gregor said. “Thanks Lothan.” Gregor turned and walked out of the forge. Taleth stared off into nothingness for a few moments as he thought to himself. Rysabella spoke up. “What are you thinking about?” she asked. “You know where to look for that, why ask?” Taleth said, all the usual malice back into his voice. Rysabella did indeed know how to find out what Taleth was just thinking, but, after such a long time together, she thought it was rude. “Because I am, Taleth,” she said. Taleth glanced at her and then went back to focus on his work. “Nothing, just making sure I have enough time to get out of here in time,” Taleth said. Rysabella sighed. This job was becoming more trouble than it was worth in her opinion and for the first time in a while she found herself agreeing with Taleth. She just wanted to get this done and then get out of here. They had brought enough troubles onto this little family. * * * The cart was filled up to the brim with crops and Gregor was just finishing up tying down the cover so that nothing would damage the crops. Taleth stood next to Al as Miryan fussed and fretted over her, making sure she was fine with this and that she would be okay. Al took this as any young girl would, she rolled her eyes and replied “Yes, Mom” to all her questions. Taleth grinned through all this, standing at Al’s side. After a fair amount of prompting and finally some physical action, Gregor was able to pull Miryan away and start off on their cart. They left a little bit after noon, aiming to get to another town by nightfall and stay there. Taleth knew that they were then going to drop off their crops and then head back tomorrow, getting in late. Al, however, was wonderfully ignorant of this fact. Al did want to do one thing now that her parents were gone. She said she wanted to cook Taleth dinner. “You don’t have to cook for me,” Taleth said. “I can cook for myself.” “I want to,” she had said. “First off, you have been very good to me, so I feel like I should try and help you out. And second,” she had leaned into him in a conspiratorial manner. “Mom never lets me cook.” Taleth roared with laughter. Miryan was a force in her kitchen. If you were not Miryan, you were not allowed in. So. Taleth ended up agreeing to dinner, and it was not too bad. If Miryan would ever let Al into the kitchen she could grow up to be a good cook. It was when the meal was over and the two of them were outside watching the sun set that Al seemed most content. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. Her arms were wrapped tight around her legs and though the night was a little brisk, she did not look that cold. Taleth sat on the grass, his hands behind him holding himself up. Rysabella sat primly on the other side of Al, also watching the sun go down. “Do you think I’ll ever get out of this place?” Al asked suddenly. “Maybe roam around like you do?” Taleth glanced over at her and gave her a thoughtful look. “Yes, I do,” Taleth said. “Though I don’t think you’d want to do what I do.” Rysabella chuckled when he said that. “I think you’d do better in one of the big cities, though. Have you ever been to one?” “No, I’ve barely been out of this dismal little town,” she said with a sigh. “Well I’ll tell your parents that you need to see a bigger town, if only for a few nights. There’s all sorts of people in the bigger towns, you’re bound to have some people who dislike you, but you’ll also find those like-minded people there too. And with your specific gift, I’m sure you’ll find yourself a lot of attention.” Taleth laughed to himself. “Most of it you probably don’t want though.” “Have you met people with magic like mine?” she asked him. Taleth nodded. “I have met a few with powers like yours, but most were not like you at all. A lot of people become brooding and angry at their gift. They shun all contact because they feel like they’ve been cursed with their visions and that if they get to know anyone they would end up seeing them in terrible images. That tends to make most people with your gift become loners. But I have met a man who had your gift who was as open and boisterous as he could be. He embraced it, and used it to help as many people as he could.” “How did he deal with the negative part of it?” Al asked. “He kept people around him,” Taleth said. “People who cared about him and not just his gift. The thing about magic is that it separates you from everyone else. Most people are stupid and afraid of anything different. It’s an ignorance of others which creates the fear and hatred and most people are ignorant of magic so they see it as evil, and the people who use it as evil. But, if you can find people who care for you as a person and either accept your gift, or just don’t care about it, then you can find a strong support in them.” Al turned her head slightly to look at Taleth. “Are you a caring person?” she asked him. Taleth turned and gave her a strange look and then laughed.. “About you? Yes.” Taleth reached up and tousled her hair with one hand. “You are a strong kid, Al. I see a lot of myself in you. We both had to mature faster then we should have. But honestly, I see more potential in you then I think I have.” Taleth grinned at Al. “So I expect to one day roam into another town and hear about how the great Seeress Alexstraza, who is loved by all, has saved the day and feed the hungry and cured the sick and saved the lands from devastation at the hands of the evil invaders.” Al smiled up at him, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “You never know, Al. You never know.” * * * “So I hear you got stuck watching the kid?” Rek asked Taleth. Taleth was dropping off a fixed knife for the cook at the local tavern when he ran into Rek coming back from the forests for his lunch. “Yeah,” Taleth said. “I think this means you owe me one.” He grinned at Rek. Rek looked at him with his one good eye and chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, I like Al, she’s a little spitfire, and I know enough to know she’s not cursed or anything, but being friends with them can get you into a lot of trouble around here. I don’t know exactly how you do it sometimes. You’re far too likeable for your own good.” Taleth gave a laugh. “I try, the secret is to know you’re all country bumpkins and to treat you as such,” Taleth said. Though he said it with a grin and Rek, who roared with laughter, took it as a jest, Rysabella knew there was more truth to that then the joke seemed. Taleth did treat these people like they were complete fools. Though, when the former queen thought about it, she realized this was how Taleth treated most people. “Well I’m sure those two won’t be back late enough for those country bumpkins here,” Rek said. Taleth chuckled. “Actually, don’t tell Al, but they’re going to surprise her by coming back tonight for her birthday.” Rysabella watched Rek’s expression soften a little. “Aw, well that’s good. I’ll keep that to myself though, I’m not sure anyone else cares,” Rek chuckled. Taleth gave him a pat on the shoulder as they parted ways. Taleth went through the rest of his day as normal, his preparations for tonight’s job already completed. He once again had dinner with Al and then sat outside watching the sun set beyond the horizon. They talked of insignificant things, she asked him questions of his travels, he answered with half-truths since Taleth had been around to many places but he skipped around the reasons he was there. Taleth then made up an excuse as to why he had to go back down into town. Al said goodnight and went up to her room to go to bed. Taleth acted quickly. He knew that Gregor and Miryan would be back in the middle of the night so he wanted to be done and back before then so they would not suspect anything was amiss. He slipped into the forest unseen and stalked his path back to the tower in the fortress. * * * Rysabella watched as Taleth landed on the ground lightly. The inside of the tower was lavishly furnished, with elegance being everywhere. Artwork was on every wall, lush silks adorned every piece of furniture and window. Old armors seemed to guard every door. It looked more like a king’s bedchamber than a hermit mage’s tower. Taleth had slipped in through a window that anyone else would have been hard pressed to get in through. Rysabella had simply walked through the wall. Taleth moved swiftly through the tower, going from luxurious room to luxurious room, in search of his target. The tower was magically distorted. Through the outside of it looked small and squat, it was far from it. Taleth had gone through three large rooms before he reached what would be considered the center of the tower. The room was an oddity in the design of the rest of the rooms. This room was not adorned as the other rooms had been. It had doorways all around going to different parts of the tower. In the middle of the room were steps leading up to a long golden box. Above the box was a globe of magical light, shining down on it. The globe would gently pulse every few seconds Every time the light pulsed, Rysabella felt a strange attraction to it and before she knew it she found that she was walking towards it, up the stairs. This pull was definitely magical but it was as if she had sensed this magic before. Even though she was no longer corporeal, she still had some ability to sense magic, and whatever was under that light almost called to her. Taleth was paying no attention as he was glancing through doorways here and there, trying to get his bearings. Rysabella made her way to the top of the steps when she realized that the box was actually a coffin, a golden coffin. The top of the coffin was made of glass, and what she saw within took her breath away. She felt Taleth stop and glace at her as she gasped loudly. “What?” he demanded in a soft voice. Rysabella could not find words to answer her. In fact, the only word she could find she barely managed to stammer out. “I-impossible…” she said. Rysabella stared down into the coffin and in shock, for the body in the coffin, was hers. Taleth was up the stairs beside her in an instant and he looked into the coffin. Rysabella was able to glance at him and see his expression widen in shock for just an instant, and then, just as quickly, it narrowed with suspicion and anger. “I knew this was not right,” Taleth said to himself. Rysabella turned back and stared at her body as it lay motionless in the coffin below her. “We’re leaving. Now.” Taleth took three steps down the stairs when a voice cried out. “Praise the Gods! It’s true, you majesty!” Rysabella’s head came up quickly at that voice for it tugged at the strings of her memory. She saw a young man standing in one of the doorways staring straight at her. He was tall and a little thinner than average. He had a boyish face but he was clearly older then his looks indicated. His black hair was cut clean and had a slight sheen to it. He matched eyes with Rysabella and he smiled. Rysabella knew in an instant what his name was. “Elistan!” Rysabella shouted out. The man raised a shaking hand to his mouth and his eyes began to glisten. “You remember me, your majesty?” he asked. “Of course I do!” And she did. Elistan had been one of Mellara’s subjects; he was a sorcerer of some skill. When Rysabella was still alive the three of them spent a great deal of time working with one another. Elistan had been trained in magicks since he was very young so when Rysabella first met him he was a bit naïve. Though, after some time with Rysabella and Mellara he seemed to relax more. Elistan was an attractive young man, one Rysabella might have considered getting to know better, but he had stepped from time’s path like many sorcerers choose to do, so she did not see much of a relationship happening with someone who would never age in her lifetime. But if anything, she remembered him as a friend. As memories flooded towards her she realized something. “Wait! You can see me?” “Yes, your majesty,” Elistan replied. “You look just as you looked those many years ago when Mellara ordered me to take your body and guard it. I did not know why she wanted me to guard your body, but I did just that. For many years I have stayed in this tower, an ever vigilant guardian for reasons that I did not know.” “What do you mean? How can you see me now?” Rysabella asked. “The orb above you, it is a mixture of magicks that I created. I had no idea if it would indeed show your spirit when you got closer to it but I did not have too much else to do since I found out about your…predicament.” Elistan glanced at Taleth. Rysabella realized she had forgotten about the assassin. Taleth was glaring at Elistan. “Then Mellara told you?” Rysabella asked. “No,” Elistan said. “I found out about it myself a little while ago, when all of a sudden visions started appearing in this very room. The room your body was housed. Visions I could only assume were memories.” Taleth moved in a flash. Two steps and he was already at one of the doorways from the room. Magic filled Rysabella’s senses as the doorways vanished, leaving only solid stone. Taleth struck the wall had and rolled away, springing to his feet. Suddenly he was moving swiftly at Elistan, his sword drawn. Rysabella could not even shout out to the sorcerer in time, all she could think of was it had been a long time since Taleth had been this vehement in his movements. Taleth’s sword went through Elistan cleanly, and Taleth himself fell though the sorcerer’s body. It was an illusion. Taleth was back steady in an instant searching around for Elistan. “But now that I see Taleth here, I can see why Mellara choose me to guard your body. There are not many sorcerers that can stand up to Taleth.” Elistan’s voice came from everywhere for a moment and then Rysabella could feel him appear beside her. He looked down upon Taleth with a frown from the other side of Rysabella’s coffin. With a wave of his hand Taleth was surrounded in a globe of light. “Taleth what are you doing?!” Rysabella exclaimed, catching her wits once again. “You will not kill Elistan!” Elistan gave a little laugh. “Oh, you majesty, it is expected. I imagine that Taleth finally figured out why he’s here,” Elistan said, smiling at Rysabella. “What do you mean?” Rysabella asked. “You know those visions you’ve been having lately?” Elistan asked. Rysabella was pulled from her watching of the globe of light that was Taleth until a moment ago. “How do you know about them?” Rysabella asked. “Do you have something to do with them?” “Yes, your majesty,” Elistan said. “And no, your majesty. You see, those are not visions but-” Taleth burst forth from the globe of light and threw his sword hard at Elistan. The sword once again passed through the illusion and slammed hard into the ceiling. “You can confuse my sense of sight and sound but I always know where she is,” Taleth said quietly. “Quite true,” came Elistan’s voice. This time there were two of him, one on either side of the stairs up to the coffin. “But you are still in my control here.” The two images began to throw spells at Taleth. In the beginning Taleth ignored them, but after a moment they began to trust Taleth back. The assassin’s face was livid with anger at this point, Rysabella could feel both anger and frustration from him. Taleth should be able to ignore most magic because of his immortality, but there are some effects of nature that he was still susceptible to. “You see, you majesty,” Elistan began again, appearing at her side once more. “Those are not visions, but rather those are Taleth’s memories. Memories that I had unlocked.” “What? How?” Rysabella asked. Elistan smiled at her. “When the mind wyrm bored into his mind, it saw all his memories, even ones he wanted to stay hidden. Consequently, I saw them all as well.” “How?” “Mind Wyrms are tricky things,” Elistan said. “I spent a great many years studying them before I met Mellara and yourself. What I learned was that Mind Wyrms always exist in pairs. What one sees, the other sees, and so they can feed off one another. The one that Vestet used on Taleth was mine, one of the two I had caught a long time ago. When I had taken your body away I only took one of the Mind Wyrm with me, forgetting the other one. I could not return to get the other one without taking your body with me since at this point, only my magic had been keeping you looking as beautiful as you always were.” Elistan smiled a disarming smile at her. “So I assumed it lost,” he continued. The two illusions were still slamming Taleth with magicks, but the immortal assassin was slowly advancing on them. “However, many months ago the Mind Wyrm I had exploded suddenly, sending out a great deal of power. This power mixed with all sorts of magical items and spells that I have all around my tower and I began to see memories, acted out as if by players on a stage, all through my home. But it was the memories that showed here, by your body, that were the most powerful. It was if your very being wanted me to see them.” “What memories?” Rysabella asked. “The memories Taleth has of who ordered had him kill you,” Elistan said. Rysabella’s eyes went wide. Taleth let out a roar and broke through the spells the two illusions were throwing at him. Taking a few steps he made to leap at the Elistan who was standing next to Rysabella. The two illusions grab hold of Taleth’s arms and the assassin tumbled for only an instant. A fourth Elistan appeared in front of him and reached out and touched Taleth’s forehead. At the same moment, the Elistan that had been talking passed his hand through the glass on Rysabella’s coffin and touched her head. Everything stopped. “Memories have the luxury of being shown in an instant, which is all I can hold this immortal assassin for,” Elistan’s voice was heard. The room around Rysabella changed and she was standing in a small room, lit only with three candles. There were tomes and devices all over the room, scattered and seemingly left forgotten. A small man sat at a table, reading through a large book, his back to Rysabella. Like all the other visions, Taleth stepped through her into the room, his eyes piercing into the back of the old man. The old man replied without looking up from his book. “Ah, I figured they’d sent someone to stop me,” he said. He continued flipping through the pages. Taleth stopped a shrugged, mainly to himself. “You’re apparently doing something problematic, and someone wants you stopped, old man,” Taleth said. The old man’s finger that was flying along the words on the pages in his book stopped moving. The old man sighed and turned around. He was old, by anyone’s account. His hair was long and unkempt and his beard was in disarray. He looked at Taleth with menacing blue eyes. “Taleth the Black I can assume,” the old man said. “In the flesh,” Taleth replied with a bow. “So which one of them sent you?” he asked. “Now, now,” Taleth said. “I don’t tell anyone that.” The old man snorted. “Whoever sent you obviously doesn’t know what they’re doing. If they stop me they invite anarchy and destruction to their very doorstep.” “Interesting, but I don’t really care,” Taleth said taking a step towards the old man. “You should, kid,” the old man said. “She’s a poison, and you know it.” “Who is?” Taleth asked, pausing. “Her royal highness,” the old man said. “And with that crown on her head this affects us all. She’s unstable in the head and it’s going to cause her to destroy the lands.” “Rysabella seems far from unstable,” Taleth observed. “You seem to be rather sure of yourself, but I know the queen is sick, and I know that when she is pushed over the edge she’ll take us all with her. She must be stopped!” the old man shouted this and mad a fist. He seemed highly delusional, and more so when Rysabella that he was talking about her. “You obviously take me for a fool, old man,” Taleth said, taking more steps. “And even if she was, I don’t care.” In a smooth fashion Taleth drew his sword and slammed it into the man’s belly. The old man reached out and grabbed a hold of Taleth’s cloak and coughed blood up on it once. “Someone must…act,” the old man was able to say. “There’s only… one way to stop it…” the old man said, and then he spoke no more, falling limp around Taleth’s sword. Taleth removed the blade from the dead man and wiped it clean on the deceased’s cloak. He turned to leave when he suddenly stopped, looking down into the book the old man had been reading. His eyes glanced over it quickly and then they went wide. Suddenly the entire room burst into flames, a booby trap that Rysabella had heard used before. Upon death all the old man’s possessions would burst into flame. The old man must have been a magic user of some type. Taleth pulled his cloak around him and hurried to the door. He once again passed through a stunned Rysabella. She turned and watched him pause at the door. “It’s true then,” Taleth said to himself. “The only way out…” there was a pause, “it’s to kill the queen.” Taleth looked over the fires that were now erupting through the small room. Taleth’s eyes then took on a sharp look as he spoke to the flames. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll take the job.” The vision vanished and once again Rysabella stood in the large room adorned with only her body in a golden coffin. Taleth grunted and broke himself free of the two illusions, striking them both in the neck. It appeared as if he hit them, but then they both vanished. Taleth struck the hand of the one that touched him on the forehead and he too vanished. But then, he wasn’t moving anymore, he was just staring at Elistan with a look of pure hatred. “And so I learned that my queen, the great Rysabella, was not killed by Taleth the Black because he was hired by some rogue sorcerer or powerful politician, but rather, because Taleth the Black, decided she needed to die based on the wild ravings of a lunatic.” This time it was Elistan’s turn to look down at Taleth with pure hate in his eyes. “You then slipped into the Royal Guard and watch her, always judging her, trying to spot a chance where you could strike. And then your moment came. I don’t know what happened that night but I believe whole heartedly that the gods were punishing your for your arrogance. Somehow…you turned that into your advantage, and for that I wish you to be cast into the furthest reaches of Hell. “But then I also learned about what happened with my queen, and I became determined to set her free. Suddenly all my research over the past hundred years was beginning to make sense. Rysabella’s body was dead, but not dead. It was as if she was a vessel with no crew. She was there but she was not. I researched this day and night, trying to find out what killed her, for there was no knife wound, no poison traces, just Taleth the Black. But with this revelation, I knew. My queen was inside Taleth the Black, and more importantly, I knew how to get her out.” Rysabella had been looking down on Taleth with shocked eyes when she heard Elistan speak. She turned her eyes to Elistan and, with a disbelieving voice, spoke. “You can bring me back?” she asked. Elistan turned back to her and instantly lost the hatred in his eyes, all Rysabella could see was the young sorcerer who was a devoted friend of Mellara, and subject of the queen. “Yes, I can,” Elistan replied confidently. “I can put your spirit back into your body and you can be free of the one who murdered you.” Rysabella was suddenly filled with every emotion possible. In an instant she found out she could live again, freely live, not tethered to Taleth… Taleth! Rysabella was overtaken with rage. She turned back to him and felt sick as she looked down on him, a man she had actually begun to trust, even care for. He had lied to her many times before, but she could always pry the truth from his memories, except for this. And she had decided that she was not going to let it weigh in on her thoughts; she was going to stop actively trying to discover who had ordered Taleth to kill her. She thought that Taleth was just a tool, and instrument in her death, but now she knew, he was both the tool and the wielder. This was a lie she could not accept. Not even in her wildest dreams did she think Taleth was malicious enough to kill her without any reason. How foolish she had been. “You…” she began, hatred dripping from her voice as she glared down at the immortal assassin. Taleth was suddenly running at her and Elistan. Rysabella heard Elistan sigh as Taleth lunged up at him, but then they both realized, he was not the target. Taleth launched himself with such force that he flew through the air a right to the ceiling, directly to where his sword was wedged. With a powerful strike, Taleth slammed his hand into the butt of the sword, sending it deep into the stone. An instant later a hole erupted in the ceiling where the sword was, and Taleth vanished into it. Rysabella felt him then speed off into the forest. She turned to Elistan as a horrible thought came over her. Taleth was moving so swiftly that she was going to be dragged along with him. She tried to speak and began reaching out her hand to Elistan but then she saw him be pulled away from her, or rather, her from him. The next thing she knew, she was watching the tower vanish into the trees. * * * Elistan sighed and threw up a shield around him. The debris from the ceiling struck the shield and harmlessly fell to his sides. He had expected this, in fact he had practiced this for a great many nights, trying to perfect a way to stop an immortal from escaping. He had reinforced magic into all the walls and ceiling. He had made the building itself structurally sound. He even tried to break it himself, to no avail. There was something unholy about Taleth the Black. What hurt even more was seeing his queen again. For many years Elistan had guarded her body, taking the utmost care with it. The body was more than just a body to him. Queen Rysabella was the greatest ruler the lands had ever seen. She was loved by so many people, and at the height of that love and adoration, Taleth the Black murdered her. At least that was what Elistan had thought until recently. Then, nearly a year ago, the visions happened, and Elistan saw his queen once again, a prisoner of her own murderer. Elistan had to fight to stay strong and no go running off to challenge Taleth right then and there. Instead he dove into his research, seeking anything on this predicament. After many months of study he found something that could work. The problem was the massive amount of magic required to complete the ritual. For years Elistan had fed magic into his home, making it a storehouse of magical energy and this was the only place he could think of to try and attempt this ritual. The difficulty was in getting Taleth here. The ruse of sending the assassin after Elistan would get him to the tower, that was for sure, but keeping him was going to take more effort. That was why Elistan turned and walked through the wall of his tower, moving through the stone and into an antechamber. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace lighting the room nicely. Elistan walked over to a large wingback chair by the fireside. “Well I assume that it did not work exactly as you planned?” came a voice from the chair. Elistan materialized a box in front of himself. It was a small box, no more than a hand’s length on each side. Elistan willed it open and the box opened itself, revealing a pair of manacles lying on a pillow of violet colored silk. These were his most prized possession, and where also the only thing that could stop Taleth the Black. “No, but I’m only disappointed, not surprised by that,” Elistan said. He looked at the large man who sat in the chair. He was built like a wall, but he sat now sipping tea from a small glass, seemingly content with himself. “Well that means you’re of sound mind then, I don’t think many could catch Taleth the Black,” the man said. “I’m here more for the try than the gold you’re paying.” “I know,” Elistan said. He reached into the box and took out the manacles and handed them over to the man. He looked at the manacles with a raised eyebrow. “I assume these are far from mundane?” the man asked. Elistan nodded. “Forged by the God of Judgment and Justice himself,” Elistan said. “Iown’s manacles will never break and will only come off when proven innocent of the crime or the punishment is taken out. I don’t think even Taleth’s immortality can withstand this.” The man nodded his agreement. Elistan reached out and touched the manacles. “Taleth the Black, I hereby accuse you of the murder of the great Queen Rysabella.” The manacles flared a green color and then returned to normal. “Neat trick,” the man said. Elistan looked at him. “Now go, I need Taleth back here as soon as possible, every moment we waste he gets further and further away from me. He must be captured.” The man set his tea down and looped the manacles over his belt. He bowed to Elistan. “I’ll be back soon,” the man said. Elistan waved his hand at the wall behind the man and suddenly a portal to the forest appeared. The man turned and took a few steps and was suddenly gone, vanished into the forest. Elistan sighed again. “Your majesty, I will free you. You deserve that much at least.” * * * “Wait. You ain’t sayin’ what I think ya sayin’?” Joorin asked. The tavern was busier than usual today when Joorin stopped in for his usual ale after work. Rek was finishing up some old trees and he suggested that Joorin go on ahead, and that he’d catch up with him later. When Joorin walked into the room he was surprised to see all the people, but that surprise was starting to turn sour. “I am,” said Rother. Rother was the local doctor, and he was also the most vocal proponent this evening. “And I think it’s a small price to pay for the safety of the town.” Joorin felt alone in the room of about forty people, nearly the entire town was here. He felt alone since he was the only person he could see that had a problem with what Rother was saying. “You’d kill one ‘cause it might save others?” Joorin asked. “No,” Rother said. “I’d kill a problem so that we could all be free. When the bandits came they were ready to kill anyone who got in their way to get the problem child. I think we need to get rid of the problem now before other bandits come back and decide they only need to slaughter the town to claim their prize. I know the safety of the town is the most important thing we need to worry about.” “Tha’s still not right!” Joorin shouted. Unfortunately, Joorin did not see many faces that shared his disposition. In fact, he was certain that someone was going to die tonight, and as shameful as it felt, Joorin did not want it to be himself. “You’re either with us or you’re part of the problem, Joorin,” Rother said. There was a terrible menace in the man’s voice. Joorin knew that Rother and his family hated Gregor, Miryan and Al more than any other in the town. He never figured out why, but motives where not always cut and dry like Joorin would like them to be. But it had been Osalyn, Rother’s daughter, under the heel of the bandit the other day, so Joorin did not need to think too hard about the man’s reasons. “No, I ain’t either,” Joorin said. “I think this is wrong but I’m not going to stop you.” Joorin suddenly felt terrible with himself, like he was going to be sick. He was a coward after all. “Good. Now then, Miryan and Gregor will be back tomorrow night, so we’ll do this tonight. It’s for the good of the town! The good of our children!” Rother said. A few cheered at this, most just nodded. Joorin could pick out a few who were probably as sick about this as he was. But at this point, there was nothing he could do. Joorin hated himself, but in a sick and twisted way, Rother was right. As long as Al was alive and had her “gift,” the town would always be a target. Joorin just prayed to the Gods that this was a right decision but he knew the Gods never listened to him. * * * Al screamed and shot up in her bed. Immediately she started flailing her arms and trying to bat out the flames that surrounded her. It took her a moment to realize that she had fallen asleep and that she was not ablaze with flames. She looked around her room, her breathing slowing down from its frantic pace. Her blanket was thrown to the floor and her pillows had been thrown all over her bed. Her hands were trembling as she lifted them to her face. She began crying. This vision was like the last, and though she could not remember all of it, it filled her with a sense of dread that was so profound, she could not stand it. She wished her parents were around, but they were not. “No!” Al shouted to herself. “This is your gift. You will not let it make you into a prisoner!” She tried hard to stop herself from crying and, after a bit, she was able to gain control. She was no longer shaking as badly, and though her eyes were red and there was no doubt she had been crying, she was not going to start again any time soon. She still felt alone though, and she knew with her parents gone there was only one other person she could turn to. She slid herself out of the bed, knocking her pillows to the ground. She bent over, picked them up and tossed them back onto the bed. She did the same for her blanket. The movements were small but they did help steady her, even just a little. She grabbed an old cloak of hers she had and pulled it over her nightgown, tying it at the neck and wrapping it around her. There was some security in that warmth at least. She headed out the door, not bothering to put on her shoes since she was only heading to the forge. She knew that Lothan would talk to her, help her through this night. Lothan was like an older brother to her. She knew he was smart and wise, but he also had a quality about him that just made him likeable. Al loved all the time she spent with him, talking, and sometimes listening. It had been too long since she had anyone else besides her mother and father that she could consider a friend. She knew she was the main reason that all the townspeople hated her family, and she had resolved to fix that when she got older, but as much as she told herself that, she found she was always afraid of leaving her parents. That was, until Lothan showed up. After spending time with Lothan, Al realized that she could do anything she wanted, and that, more importantly, she should. She stepped into the forge and was greeted by a warm breath of air, as always. She enjoyed the smell of the forge, the feel of the forge and even the slightly metallic taste she would get in her mouth after spending a great deal of time there. Though she thought she most enjoyed Lothan’s company. She was a little saddened when she discovered that he was nowhere to be found. She looked around, trying to find out where he might have gone. She walked over to his bench beside the fire and noticed his tools where lying there, something Lothan usually never did. Lothan always put away his tools when he was done with them. She reached down and touched them, wondering where Lothan would have gone to. The vision came when she made contact with the tool. She could see Lothan, and he was running, fast. She could feel something behind him but she did not know what it was. All she could feel was the undeniable need to run, to escape something, but what that was remained a mystery. Instinct drew her hand back from the tool as if it were too hot, breaking the vision. She knew Lothan was in trouble, and she now knew were. He was in the forest, but what was in there that was chasing him? What was the reason that he was running so fast and so furiously? Was this happening now or was this something that was going to be happening? No, she thought to herself, this is happening now. Lothan is in trouble. I need to do something. She could feel the tug of magic pulling at her. She had seen where he was in the vision, and she knew she could get there, but she’d have to leave now. With one pause to look over the forge, Al started running for the forest. * * * Rysabella was being moved against her will, and she was furious for it. Taleth sped through the forest, leaping from tree to tree, or using a trunk to propel him faster along the ground. He was distancing himself quickly from the tower and Elistan but everything Rysabella tried to do to stop him has failed. She yelled at him, both next to him as well as in his head. She had even tried taking over his body, but Taleth was far too prepared for that, keeping her out. Rysabella would move herself so that every time Taleth touched the ground she was right there, trying to stop him. But as yet she was not succeeding. And that only fed her anger. She decided to try a different approach. Instantly, she was in his mind again, this time she stalked to the small cabin in the middle of the plains. Not bothering with subtlety she willed the door open, but her anger took the best of her and the door shattered inward. She stormed into the house. “I know you’re here Taleth!” she yelled. “Come out! You can stop him running! You know I deserve this!” There was no response. Rysabella barged through the various rooms of the house but the Taleth she was looking for was nowhere to be seen. She raged through the kitchen, sending things flying in anger, and through the never-used bedroom. It was when she barged into his living room that she gave pause. Her gaze fell over the chest that Taleth kept locked up in the corner. She looked at the chest and a vicious smile crossed her face. She could stop him, or at least give her a chance to stop him. In Taleth’s mind she did have some power, so she shattered the lock on the chest. She walked over, unhooked the latch and threw open the cover. Taleth’s memories appeared in a torrent. Rysabella reacted quickly, pulling herself back from Taleth’s mind, it was not going to be a pleasant place in a moment. However, she did not find it a pleasant place right now. Nothing about Taleth was very pleasant right now. Her plan did work though; Taleth was in mid stride when his hands went to his head. He stumbled a little and that sent him into a tumbling spin, slamming through a few small trees and finally stopping as he hit the trunk of a very old oak. When he hit the ground Rysabella was there, slamming her hands into Taleth’s. The flash of light pleased her, since she knew she had him now. “Damn woman, stop this!” Taleth yelled at her. Rysabella let the fury overwhelm her. “Silence!” she yelled back, letting her voice ring in his mind as loud, if not louder than it was outside. “You have the gall to try and order me around? You have no right at anything anymore, murderer!” She lowered her face to his and then pressed her body into his, attempting to take control of him. “Get OUT!” Taleth shouted, both in the physical world and the deep reaches of his mind. “No. We are going back to Elistan! You have no right to deny me this!” “You’re dead! You have no rights!” Taleth roared in defiance. He was fighting her, more vehemently then they had ever fought before. But Rysabella was beyond furious, and she had a stronger control of herself now. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would be in control. “How dare you! You killed me, murdered me for no reason other than the ravings of a madman. I had almost even forgiven you. I told myself you did what you did because that was who you are, a killer for hire. But you were not hired. You murdered me, and what’s worse is that you’ve lied to me since then.” “I have not lied!” Taleth shouted. “That’s a lie right there. You lie to everyone Taleth: the townspeople out there, me, even yourself. All of them are victims of your lies, and now that I know the truth I can see it for myself. You’re a hideous person! You’re despicable and rotten to the core. You destroyed my life for no reason, and I was a fool and just assumed the best of you. I had always tried to look at the best of you, and you’ve thrown that back into my face. But no more!” Rysabella was gaining the upper hand, and she started throwing more images at Taleth to try and distract him. She tossed images of the first person he watched die, the little girl Aylin who’s death altered his life forever. She sent images of his father and mother again and again, over and over. As soon as she thought she had control Taleth exploded in rage. Rysabella felt their bodies separate and suddenly she was lying on the ground watching Taleth roll away swiftly and slam into the large oak again. With an inhuman roar he struck the tree, blasting a rather large hole into the trunk. “NO!” Taleth shouted. “You have no right to defy me, Taleth the Black!” Rysabella exclaimed. When she said his name with was filled with the deadliest of venoms, a pure hatred. Taleth’s eyes had a wild look in them when she stared her down. Rysabella got to her feet slowly and started walking towards Taleth. “This is my life, woman! And you know nothing of what happened.” Taleth stood defiantly, but he was poised to run again, even through it was futile since Rysabella could move anywhere she wanted before he even flinched. “Oh? So tell me, was there any real reason you murdered me? Or was this just some part of your sick determination to kill off every member of humanity? All you do is kill people, and you seem completely content with yourself about it too. Why is that?” “Quiet,” Taleth said, this time as an angry whisper. “Do you have an inferiority complex? Does being immortal give you a feeling of difference? Is this all something that’s in your head? Well I’ll tell you what’s in your head, Taleth the Black. I AM!” Rysabella gestured grandly as she spoke but she still trembled with rage. “Will you be quiet!” Taleth resorted to shouting again. “You just blindly accept what you’re told?” “What?! How dare you! Elistan has shown himself to be far more trustworthy than you are. And you dare question his credibility?” Rysabella stopped. “Fine. I’ll ask you one question Taleth the Black. Did anyone hire you to kill me?” There was a long moment of silence, Taleth was crouched, and ready to move in an instant be that to battle or to flight from this confrontation she did not fully know. All she knew was that he was wrestling with something internally, arguing with himself. Most likely arguing with the Taleth Rysabella had gone looking for just moments ago. Try as she might, she was not privy to that conversation. “Well?” she demanded. “No,” Taleth responded after a moment. The word struck her hard, for even through her rage and anger, she had not heard Taleth admit that what she had seen was real and truth, but now she knew otherwise. She was more devastated than angry for there had been a glimmer of hope, however deep, that what she had seen back in the tower was not actually true. But it was, and she felt betrayed. Rysabella wanted to cry, but she was too mad to let herself. She was about to move again when she heard a new voice. “Well, they say that talking to oneself is a sure sign of insanity,” came a low voice from behind Taleth. The assassin spun on his heel and jumped back a few feet, moving closer to Rysabella but further from the newcomer. “Though, if I’d been alive for over a hundred and fifty years I might find myself a little insane.” A stranger stepped from the shadows of the trees, moving into a ray of moonlight. He was a large man, built like a tower of stone. He gave a small smile to Taleth as he stepped into sight. He had loose clothes, breeches and a shirt both colored black. At his hip, hanging from his belt was a pair of manacles. His hair was short and dark, his face an unreadable smile, but it seemed friendly to Rysabella. “Insanity is a luxury that I can no longer afford,” Taleth said. “Who are you?” “Your pursuer, of course,” the big man said with a chuckle. “Elistan wants you back and he paid me a hefty sum to do so, though since you are Taleth the Black I think the challenge might be enough for me.” The man stood simply but Rysabella knew a man of power when she saw him. “Then you have me at a disadvantage already since you know me but I don’t recall your face, and I have a good memory,” Taleth said, relaxing his pose. Taleth did this when judging an opponent, though he had not had to do it in a long time since his immortality. “Most people know me as Jidan Donaxon,” the man said with a grin. “But you can call me Don.” * * * Miryan peeked into Al’s room searching about to make sure her daughter was asleep. She could make out the outline of her daughter on the blanket and she seemed to not be moving much, which was good. She deserved a sound sleep, especially the night before her birthday. “Miryan, will you get away from there, you might wake her,” Gregor’s hoarse whisper came from down the hall, at the door to their room. “I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Miryan whispered back, creeping down the hallway, trying not to make any noise. Al was normally a sound sleeper but she wanted to make sure she stayed asleep tonight. “She’s fine, I’m sure Lothan is down at the tavern having a late night drink or something, stop worrying all the time,” Gregor said. Miryan tended to trust her husband on things, but when they came back and found that Lothan was nowhere to be found she got a little worried. Thankfully her husband was probably right, and Al was fine. Sometimes she started to believe Gregor when he told her she worried too much. “I know, I know,” Miryan said. She stretched up and kissed her husband on the lips. “I still love you though.” “I know,” Gregor said, returning the kiss. “I love you, too.”

Orlan stretched as he walked into his room, high in the towers of the Pen. It had been a while since he had the opportunity to take a moment to himself the past....well lets just say it's been a while. As Orlan walked in he noticed that his room reflected this ....while. Piles upon piles of papers filled his room. They were all over his sturdy, Tzimfemme-tested-Orlan-approved, oak desk, spread out and in piles over his once new Tzimfemme-tested-Orlan-approved loveseat set from JCPenny's (on sale, good deal) and even piled into his Tzimfemme-Chocolate-tested-Orlan-Dark-Chocolate-Approved oversized Martini Glass/Hot Tub. Orlan gave a sigh. So much paperwork, so little time to deal with all the flippin' paperwork. Unfortuntely for Orlan, the laws of physics were against him, for his sigh caused a butterly in Uganda to flap it's wings which caused....well, you know the old standard. In a sudden gust the winds picked up and a tornado of paper exploded in his room. Applications, posts, invoices ("NOT THE INVOICES!!! How will I steal Wyv's monies now?" Orlan cried), votes, polls and everything else imaginable became a swirling vortex of words....and paper cuts...ow ow ow ow the paper cuts. Then, like Rosemary on a thursday, the room's mood changed violently. Violently calm, that is. Orlan, who was caught up in the blast, suddenly found himself thirty-five feet up in the air along with his Phd Dissertation on the Edibility of body chocolate and the effect on the female psyche all around him. "Crap," Orlan said as the winds ceased. Like a ton of feathers, Orlan fell to the ground, becoming buried in papers upon papers upon papers upon papers. The Elder of Bards and the Sexy Sexy Man grumbled to himself as all he could see right now was Peredhil's recipie for "Everybody Love One Another Chip Dip" (It's brotherly love-good!). "Hmm...I didn't know he used SOylent green in that recipie..." Orlan said to nobody in particular. Orlan let loose a roar of power and the papers above he erupted into a shower of tree-hugging fury. Orlan stood in the center of a hole devoid of his pulped enemy. A few papers filtered down back into the hole and Orlan reached out and grabbed one. "Dear Orlan, RE: 1924 New Years party! Please make sure to bring the fireworks this year..." Orlan read aloud. "Hmm....some of these might be a touch old." Another piece of paper floated down and Orlan reached out and snatched it from the air. He glanced over it once, and then twice, and then once again. He got a smirk on his face that was quickly replaced with a scowl (albeit, a Sexy Sexy Scowl). "Something needs to be done about this," Orlan said to himself as he folded the note and placed it in his cloak. Orlan vanished an appeared in the main courtyard of the Pen. People were milling around here and there, Reading, wRiteing and aRithmaticing generally not paying attention. Orlan solved that. Lightning surrounded his fist and Orlan smashed it into the fountain beside him. The fountain exploded. "YUI-CHAN!!! GET OUT HERE!!" Orlan roared. People ducked and ran for cover, avoiding the flying pieces of architecture. Noone really knew what to do at this rampaging Elder (and a Sexy Sexy one at that). Orlan did not see his target anywhere and so he took off with a determined stride. Blue and red lightning flickered all over his body, ocassionally finding alternate paths to ground through the occasional piece of artwork, statue, or Inspector I.M. Clueless. Members ran for thier lives, hid, or just stared at Orlan with a fear to end all fears (ZOMGSCARYLAZERPEWPEWPEW!!!). Orlan rampaged through the assembly room, shattering tables, chairs, someone's sonnet about the futility of life and how they want to die (they were, consequently, blasted into a nether dimension filled with cute little baby bunnies who would endlessly cheer you up by snuggling you, talk about your ironing....the laundry). Orlan did pause and walk over to a small group of newer Pen members who were huddled in a group. He reached out to a young blonde one. "Hi there," Orlan said, his voice dripping with Sexyness™© "My name's Orlan and I'm the Elder of Bards. I'm also a Libra who enjoys long walks on the beach, total world domination and pages 1 to 673 in Orlan's Kama Sutra. If you need anything feel free to stop by and let me know, my bed is alwa....er my door is always open. You have a nice day now." He patted her on the cheek and then turned back to his path, the lightning flaring up again and his scowl once again present. When he smashed the wall into the Caberert Room he saw her. "YUI!" Orlan roared. Yui sat in the corner, a book in her lap and a cup of tea in her hand. Shadows bent around her, obscuring her from mosts view, but Orlan saw all. "Yes, Orlan-san?" Yui asked with a arched eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?" Orlan shouted. "Having some tea and reading 'The Shadows and You' by Liberace," Yui said. "Why? Is there a problem?" "A Problem?!" Lightning jumped from Orlan's shoulder and slammed into the cappucio machine, spraying Double Frappuchino Mocha Latte Grande all over the room. "I sure as hell do! What do you think you've been doing to my Pen?" "Pardon?" Yui asked, setting her tea cup down on the table. "I am gone for a few months and I come back and you've changed the very structure of the pen, going in all the nooks and crannies and changing things without my say so!" Orlan roared. Yui's eyes squinted slightly as she focused on Orlan. "I did what I did for the betterment of The Pen, Orlan-san," Yui said, closing her book. Shadows began to curl protectively around her some more. "And I thought it was 'everybodys' Pen." "What gave you that idea? I AM THE PEN! I'm the reason it exists! How DARE you change things without me!" Orlan ranted on. Every exclamation point he hit the energy around him seemed to flare up more and more. "I don't think I care for your tone, Orlan," Yui said, standing up. The shadows gathered around her fully, encasing all but her face. Her eyes glowed a soft purple. "CARE?! CARE?!!!" Orlan gestured with his hand and lightning arched around Yui, slamming into the wall behind her, obliterating it. "Where was the care when you went off changing things? You had no RIGHT!" Orlan roared. "RIGHT!?" Yui shouted back. "I do too have a right! I'm a member of The Pen like anyone else!" The shadows that were around her slithtered out like snakes on the ground before her. They curled they were towards Orlan, testing the ground here and there but always avoiding the random bolts of lighting that struck. "A member yes but do you think you deserve the say you have? What...do you think you're a bard?" Orlan said, stressing the last word with a hard edge. Yui clenched her hand tightly at the word. Yui's shadows moved swiftly, surrouding Orlan. Then, like claws coming up, they slammed hard into Orlan's lightning. Things flared....babies cried...teeth gnashed....Lewis Black went on a triade of Starbucks next to other Starbucks...and in general all that could be heard was the screams of magic. "...Because you are," came Orlan's voice softly. Suddenly all the magic vanished, and, if it were possible for shadows to fall on thier butts, that's what happened. "What?" Yui asked, a confused look on her face. The shadows around her vanished and all that was left was Orlan, a horribly disarming smile across his face, and Yui, stun-struck. "Well ya see," Orlan started as he reached into his cloak. "I cam across..." Orlan pulled out a banana, looked at it oddly, and threw it over his shoulder "...my list of candidates from..." Orlan reached in and grabbed out a rubber chicken, looked both ways suspiciously, making sure Zool wasn't looking, and then shoved the chicken back in his cloak "...a while ago and well..." Orlan pulled out a top hat from his cloak and gave a triumphant "w00t". "..I'm a little behind on things. But since nothing I ever say is law," Orlan reached into the top hat with a flourish that would have made David Blaine blue with water poisoning and grabbed hold of something. He gave it a tug but it did not seem to want to give. Orlan let go of the hat and stuck both his hands in. The hat stayed where it was, floating in the air. Orlan gave a heave and, in a completely unexplainable phenomenon, Orlan pulled Gwaihir out of the top hat by the back of his shirt. "There we go," Orlan said, dropping the vice-loremaster on the ground. "Now then, if you'll excuse me, I have alot more papers to go through...There's never any rest for the Sexy." Orlan snatched the top hat out of the air and turned and walked away. A few steps away, Orlan placed the hat atop his own head and, like a brick, it fell over him, encompassing him and making him vanish into the hat. The top hat bounced once on the ground and then, in a similar fashion, it vanished into itself....leaving chaos and confusion (Orlan's resume headers) behind it.

Taleth’s place at the dinner table was assured after that night. Miryan and Gregor both thanked Taleth throughout the night for standing up for both their daughter and their family. Gregor explained more about why he and his wife were looked down upon by the other townspeople. The people were simple, the most magic they ever saw was the occasional show that came through. The people accepted that kind of magic, something that was used for entertainment and by kings and queens of lands far from where they were. Al’s magic, on the other hand, was a foretelling of the future and since she was young and new to this power, she could only see the futures with strong emotions attached to them, most often being of death. None of this the two parents knew on their own but they had taken a trip to one of the bigger cities when Al was young and were told this by one of the senior sorcerers there. Of course, this was nothing new to Taleth. Al herself had a change in her too. She smiled more, at both her parents and Taleth. She started to spend more time with Taleth in the forge, and also on occasional trips down to the town. She was still shy about going down on her own for fear of what happened but when Taleth was around she would hold her head high when she would go down. Rysabella would smile and laugh on these trips as she would watch the townspeople’s mixed reactions when dealing with Taleth. The townspeople had obviously trained themselves to hate and fear Al, and naturally one would think that Taleth would get some backlash because of his friendship with Al, but Taleth, as Lothan, was impossible to dislike. Because of this people would be torn between trying to be rude and angry at Al and her family and being friendly with Taleth. As a former queen Rysabella could never admit openly but now that she was dead and attached to Taleth she found herself unable to resist the joy in the suffering of fools. Rysabella also liked listening to Miryan and Gregor talk about whatever they were thinking about after they had dinner. It made Rysabella feel almost normal at times. After the meal the family, along with Taleth, would move to a living room, sit in front of the blazing fireplace and Gregor would tell about his day or Miryan would talk about people in the town that avoided her that day. Al would usually sit by the fire and read. Taleth made a point to bring pieces of metal with him and he would ply them every which way as he listened to the two. It was one of these nights that Al asked a question of Taleth. “So why do you wander around, Lothan?” Al asked, taking a pause from her book to look him in the eyes and ask him that question. “Hmm?” Taleth replied, looking up from the piece of metal he was currently bending to form an octagon. He heard her fine, Rysabella knew that, he was just playing with her. “I was wondering why you wander around? Don’t you have any family to stay with?” Taleth stopped fiddling with the metal and leaned back in his chair. “I do have some family around, but they’re quite a few times removed from me and I don’t really have any contact with them anymore,” Taleth said, setting the metal down on the armrest of the large chair he sat in. “Do you have any kids? Married?” Al pressed. “Alexsstraza!” Miryan shouted at her daughter, shocked that the girl would ask a string of such personal questions. Rysabella knew that only to be motherly outrage for Miryan had also tried dropping small hints to try and find out about Taleth’s, no, Lothan’s, past. Taleth laughed and held up a hand to Miryan. “It’s alright,” he said. “In fact I’m surprised it held out this long before I was asked.” Taleth gave a little chuckle. “Well I have no kids myself, but I was once married.” “What happened?” Al asked. “She died,” Taleth said in a somber tone. Al immediately looked sorry that she asked the question. Rysabella watched her shift uncomfortably a few times. “Oh, well what was she like?” Al said, trying to bring the mood of the room back up. Taleth obliged her by giving her a wistful smile. “Perfect,” he said with a slight smile. This seemed to warm Al up, for she got a smile on her face as well. “Oh c’mon, you have to have a better description than that. What was her name at least?” she asked. Taleth smiled and looked wistfully into thin air. At least it would have been thin air had Rysabella not be standing there, but to the others in the room it looked as if Taleth was just waxing nostalgically. Taleth, on the other hand, looked Rysabella directly in the eyes and, with a small smile, replied. “Bella,” he said. “Her name was Bella.” “That’s a beautiful name,” Al said. “For a beautiful woman,” Taleth said, not taking his eyes off of Rysabella. Rysabella could only look back at Taleth. She knew this was his way of pushing her, but she was not going to let him. She gave him a cold and unamused stare back. “Well what was she like then? And no more ‘perfect,’” the young girl chided. Taleth laughed and gave the young girl a wink before turning his gaze back to Rysabella. “She was perfect,” Taleth insisted. “She had a full head of long flowing brown hair, a pair of sapphire eyes that you could lose yourself in and a body that was sculpted by the Gods themselves.” Taleth gave a wistful sigh. “She had a gorgeous smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. She had a laugh that was impossible not to join in with. When she was sad, the world was dark and grey. When she was happy the world was full of life and the sun would shine endlessly. She had a temper on her like a thousands storms but she could never stay mad more than a day. She was…perfect. I loved her more than I loved life itself.” “She sounds wonderful,” Al said with a great smile on her face. “Oh she was,” Taleth said with a wink. “She was as regal as a queen. Just being around her others felt as if they were in the presence of someone like Queen Dayane herself.” Taleth paused and looked as if he were thinking about something. “Well maybe Dayane is a bit young of an example, but the idea is the same. She was always the life of the party. So many people said they owed their happiness to her. I know I owed her mine.” “How long were you married for?” this time it was Miryan who asked the question. Her eyes were slightly watered. Taleth’s words were touching, though Rysabella knew better than to take them to heart. Taleth was only making up a story as he played at Lothan. His words were just lies, as always. “We were together for just over a year,” Taleth said, glancing at Miryan. “It was the best year of my life. Every morning I would look forward to waking up just to see her in bed beside me. Our fights were passionate and sporadic but I think we only fought so we could make up later,” Taleth gave a chuckle and, not surprisingly enough, so did Gregor. “We were both happy, living our lives as we were. It was an amazing bliss.” “How did she die?” Al asked, almost breathlessly. Taleth was an amazing story teller. From this question, Taleth glanced from Al back to Rysabella and then immediately hung his head and looked at the ground. “I…I killed her,” Taleth said in a choked voice. Al closed her book and sat up. “What do you mean?” Miryan asked this time. “It was…” Taleth paused, seeming to struggle for the correct words. “…an accident, but it was my fault. I killed her in the end.” Taleth paused a moment. Rysabella’s countenance wavered for just a moment. True, it was Lothan’s words that were coming out of Taleth’s mouth, but Rysbella wondered for a moment, just a moment, if he was actually making things up. It sounded so…possible to Rysabella. “It was my fault,” he repeated. Taleth fidgeted with his hands and kept his gaze focused on the ground. “Lothan, I’m sorry I brought this up-” Al began. “It’s alright,” Taleth said, giving Al a little smile. “She was a lot like you Al. She had a bit of magical talent. I think that’s one of the reasons I try to watch out for you, kid. I know what you’re going through and I know Bella would chide me endlessly if I did nothing to help you out with it.” “Well we’re happy to have you look out for her as well,” Gregor said, standing up and tapping out his pipe. “And I think we’ve intruded enough on Lothan’s past this evening. It’s probably best we all get some sleep tonight. And that means you,” Gregor said as he prodded his daughter gently on her shoulder. “Yes, Dad,” Al said rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Al gathered up her books and gave her father and mother a kiss goodnight. She turned to Taleth. “Thank you for telling me about your wife. And thank you for looking after me.” She then gave Taleth a big smile. Taleth smirked back at her and pat her a few times on her head. “Get some sleep, kid,” Taleth told her. “I need you awake enough to keep me company in the forge, tomorrow.” Al nodded back at him and walked away, though she walked away with her head held high. A few moments after she left Miryan stood up and walked over to Taleth and hugged him. Gregor chuckled a bit. Taleth gave a surprised reaction and patted the woman’s back as if he was confused. “Thank you for all you have done for our daughter,” Miryan said. “Though we have told her all these things many times over and over, we’re her parents. We’re supposed to say these things. The past few weeks you have given her a new look to life, and for that I don’t think we could ever repay you for it all.” “Please, I’m just doing what I should, nothing special,” Taleth said waving his hands in front of him after Miryan let him go. “And we thank you for that,” Gregor said. “For everything you’ve done.” Taleth smiled at him. “And now, we should also go get some sleep tonight. Or at least, I need some sleep, it was a long day today,” Gregor said with a stretch. “Yes, sleep sounds like a good idea,” Taleth agreed. He bade the pair a good night and he walked from the room. Rysabella watched him go. She had not moved since Taleth began telling the lie about his past. She found that she could not move. Most of the things Taleth told were half truths. He had used Rysabella as a template for this imaginary woman who Lothan was married to. Though Rysabella was used to Taleth’s jabs against her, he hardly missed an opportunity to try and keep her down, she wondered about this lie. She was consistently able to look around his lies, ignore them, or find her own meaning in them. But when Taleth spoke this time, something stirred in Rysabella. It was as if a small voice, deep in the back of her mind was speaking in a voice barely perceptible. That voice only brought up one question that made Taleth’s speech even more poignant. “What if he wasn’t telling a lie?” the voice whispered. * * * Rysabella thought about what the voice in her mind asked for a few days. Lothan was busy with an influx of blacksmithing work so Taleth was not around as much any more. In fact, Rysabella only dealt with Taleth in the late nights when he would go scouting his target’s tower some more, and most of that time was spent in silence. One night was different. She had another vision. This one, like all the previous ones, was the same thing, a memory from Taleth. But things were less cloudy. She was walking through the trees around where Taleth stood. He was watching were the forest animals would not go, mapping out the edge of the magic that surrounded the tower. Rysabella stepped through a tree, lost in her own thoughts and stepped into a room she had never seen before. There were tomes and devices all over the room, almost certainly magical in nature. A small man sat at a table, with three candles burning on the table, lighting the book he was perusing through. Rysabella could not make out the old man’s appearance because his back was to her. A strange sensation set in as Taleth stepped through Rysabella and into the room. Rysabella stepped aside and looked at Taleth. He looked the same as the Taleth she knew, though he seemed a bit more youthful in appearance. He eyes did not have so much weight behind them, and he seemed to have more energy in him. This memory must have been before Rysabella’s time, and before his immortality. “Ah, I figured they’d send someone to stop me,” the old man said, without looking from his book. He continued flipping through the pages, perusing its pages for something. Rysabella watched Taleth stop short, and then shrug to himself. “You’re apparently doing something problematic, and someone wants your stopped, old man,” Taleth said. The old man’s finger that was flying along the words on the pages in his book stopped moving. The old man sighed and turned around. Before Rysabella could make out the old man’s face a fog of gray appeared everywhere. It was the same fog that Rysbella had seen earlier, the one that stopped her from seeing the deepest and closest guarded secrets of Taleth’s life. However, she could still make out voices, and she knew now who they belonged to, but they became louder and softer on their own, and Rysabella could only make out pieces of the conversation. “…a poison…affects us all…the queen..” the old man’s voice wavered in and out. She heard Taleth’s voice laugh in the background. “…a fool,” came Taleth’s voice. The voices were then heard together, and Rysabella was unable to make out anything more until everything went silent for a moment. Then she heard Taleth’s voice again. “…kill the queen.” Rysabella inhaled sharply and stretched her hearing to the limit. The next and final thing she heard before the fog vanished into nothing was Taleth’s voice a final time. “I’ll take the job.” Rysabella stood back in the forest, facing the softly glowing tower that she could make out through a break in the canopy of trees. The tower seemed to be pulsing in the night. This cleared in her mind as well. Taleth’s words spoke in her head over and over again. Rysabella became both excited and frightened. The memories of this event began to take shape when Taleth first took this job, and it seemed that every time she got close to this tower, and whatever lay within it, the memory became more and more clear. And, from what Rysabella saw just now, this memory was the one that killed her. Was that old man the one who hired Taleth to kill her? But Taleth seemed to be there to kill him, why then would he switch? Taleth has never taken two jobs at once, his own twisted set of morals would not let him. One job must end before the next would begin, that was how he always worked. Though Rysabella puzzled over this she was certain that memory held the most important information she had ever wanted. This memory would finally tell Rysabella why she died, and who ordered her death. “We’re done for the night,” Taleth announced, snapping Rysabella from her reverie. The queen glanced over at Taleth but he was not looking in her direction but was covering up his tracks as he stepped away from where he had been sitting. Rysabella gave the tower one last look as she prepared to leave. She knew Taleth would be making his strike soon against the hermit who dwelled within those stone walls and she had a feeling that when that time came, she would know for sure why she had to die. That thought made her both anxious and frightened at the same time. * * * Taleth slipped back into the forge. It was still early in the night and he had made a fair bit of progress with his plans for the tower. There were traps around the tower, more magical than mundane, and though magic was something Taleth could easily walk through, he wanted to keep the art of surprise on his side. That meant he needed to sneak into the tower. That, unfortunately, meant that the planning stage was going to take longer than he had thought. Though the contact he had gave no time tables, Taleth was a firm believer in the “do it now” method of his profession. Rysabella walked in to the forge through the wall. Taleth spared her a glance but she was not looking at him, but rather was looking at the ground in front of her, thinking. Taleth was sure she had another episode out at the tower. He had seen her stop and stretch forward as if she were listening for something. She had been seeing something in these visions and since these episodes had been getting longer in length, it meant she was seeing or hearing more every time. “NO!!!” a scream broke through the night. The cry snapped both Taleth and Rysabella from any other thoughts they had as they recognized the voice. “Al…” Rysabella spoke. Taleth was off in a flash, moving with full speed towards the house. Taleth did not bother with the door but instead jumped through an open window on the first floor. He hit his hand to the floor, using his fingers as cushion to lessen the impact of his feet so he made almost no noise when he leapt into the house. He had a dagger in his hand and slipped up the steps of the house silently. He could hear Al crying now, and made out two individual sets of footsteps moving quickly to her room. Taleth paused at the stop of the stairs as a candle rushed by him. He leaned hard against the wall as Miryan rushed by, pulling a nightgown around her as she headed for her daughter’s room. Gregor was a step behind her. Neither noticed Taleth, nor did they notice Rysabella who was now standing in the doorway to Al’s room. They both passed right through the former queen as she looked around, trying to take in what, if anything, had happened. She turned to Taleth as he leaned around the corner. “It’s just her in there,” she said to him. Taleth was at the door in a moment, pressing himself against the wall and listening. “Shhh, honey calm down, it’s us here,” Taleth heard Miryan say. Al’s sobbing became muffled. “Gregor, take the candle.” Taleth heard some shuffling of clothing and the light from the candle flickered and wavered for a moment, casting shadows out the door to the wall opposite Taleth. “Shhh, honey, we’re here, it’ll be okay.” Al’s sobbing died down a little bit, and then became louder, Taleth figuredthe girl had been crying into her mother’s chest a moment ago. “I…I had another one,” Al said, through her sobbing. “Another vision?” Miryan asked. Al said nothing. Taleth looked up at Rysabella but he knew that Al was probably nodding. “She’s nodding,” Rysabella confirmed. Taleth sighed silently. Al was seeing the future, and from all Taleth had ever read, she was not seeing anything good. She was too young and underdeveloped to see anything but the strongest of futures, the ones with the most intense emotions surrounding them. Unfortunately, those were almost always the worst, most terrible events. “I…I saw Mister Lothan, trapped. He was unable to move, unable to leave even though he desperately wanted to. Then I saw him again, in chains, but this time he didn’t care that he was unable to move. He felt…resigned to his doom. And then I saw a woman, and she was crying as she looked at him. And then I saw a huge man and a sorceress fighting for their lives. Then I saw the townspeople, all of them, yelling and marching, and then... I … I saw…I saw you two…burning!” Al was barely able to get out the last word before she started wailing again. The cry became muffled and Taleth figured Miryan was putting her arms around her and holding her tight. “Oh the poor thing,” Rysabella said, sighing softly. She seemed not to notice anything that girl had just said. But that was Rysabella, she relied on her emotions more than anything else. Taleth, on the other hand, was not concerned with emotion but rather he was concerned with what he heard. The vision that Al described did not bode well for Taleth. Taleth slipped away from the room and back down the stairs, not making any noise. He would remember everything that Al said, as always, so he would have more than enough time to mull about it later. Of course that meant nothing as his mind went over and disseminated the information right away. The images that Al described gave Taleth pause about going after the hermit mage who was in the forest. Al’s visions had no timeline to them, and Taleth, and Lothan by extension, did not age so any vision that involved the assassin could come tomorrow or a year from now. Taleth’s mind was restless, always, so he spent his time constantly going over and over again all the possibilities in his head as to what those visions could possibly mean. He gave a little sigh. “I hate knowing my future,” Taleth said softly to himself as he made his way back into the forge. He moved over to the furnace, pulled a stool along with him, and sat, staring into the endless flames of the fire and thought. * * * After the night’s events, Al was withdrawn for a few days. Taleth chose not to have dinner with the family for these few days, instead giving them some time alone. Though Gregor and Miryan never said anything out loud, their actions showed that they were grateful. Since dinner with them was out, he went back into town to have dinner. The regulars welcomed him back and Lothan was caught up on the gossip he had missed since the dinner with Al’s family started. Rek was happy to see Taleth again and spent a great deal of time hitting him in the shoulder as he told Taleth about his latest romp with one of the milkmaids of the town. “Ah ya shoulda been there, Lothan!” Rek shouted as he smacked him on the back. “She has herself a friend if you be free later.” Rek gave Lothan a wink. Taleth chuckled and took a drink of his mug of ale. “I’m sure I’d just be a hindrance on you, Rek.” Taleth grinned at the lumberjack. Rek scratched his good eye and returned back a grin to match Taleth’s. “Bah, you need to get yourself out more, Lothan! All the time you spend in that dingy old forge…You need to get out more, see the forest.” Taleth grinned a bit more at that one. “Most importantly…we need to find you a good girl! You’re an attractive young man, ya should be fightin’ ‘em off with a large stick….preferably your own!” Rek laughed even louder at his own jest. Taleth shook his head and looked at the weathered man. “Ya gotta sow your seed so when one finally tosses ya in chains ya can feel some accomplishment in your life. Ya don’t want to be stuck to one lass your whole life, eh?” Taleth chuckled into his mug, not really laughing at Rek, but more at Rek’s innate ability to put into words that which was Taleth’s life. Or whatever was the life he had. Taleth looked over at Rysabella who stared back at him with cold, calculating eyes. They were the kind of eyes that dared him to say something, for she too heard Rek. “Oh, Rek,” Taleth started, “I fear for the day that I am chained to some woman with no possible way of running from her.” This sent Rek into an uproar of laughter. “Ha, ha,” came the sardonic voice of Taleth’s constant companion. “Believe me when I say that I gladly look forward to the day that you are free to sow yourself over half the countryside without me.” The former queen’s eyes rolled heavenward and she turned her back on him, looking towards the rest of the tavern. Taleth did not say anything. Rek slapped Taleth hard on the back. Taleth coughed into his mug and lurched forward, not because he had to but to give Rek the benefit of a reaction. However, Taleth did react. He heard a scream and heard horses. His hearing was better trained then any of those in the bar so there was nobody else giving any reaction. Rek, deaf to the noise Taleth heard, picked up on Taleth’s mood change. “Lothan, ya’lright?” Rek asked, his voice a little worried. “Do you hear that?” Taleth asked, knowing it was still too faint for Rek to hear. Taleth stood up and set his mug down on the table and started taking a few steps toward the door. “Hear what?” Rek asked. He set his drink down and was now a step behind Taleth. Various other patrons were setting their mugs down and watching Taleth with interest. “Horses,” Taleth said. A high-pitched scream came from outside. This time it was not just Taleth who heard it. Everyone in the room dropped their mugs and hurried after Taleth who was now two steps out the door. He scanned the area quickly and saw three people running towards him. One held a baby in her arms and was screaming hysterically. Behind the three of them was a rider on horseback, bearing down on the woman with the baby quickly. Taleth had to stop himself from moving on instinct since that would raise too many questions from the townspeople. Instead, Taleth rushed over to where there was a pile of firewood and grabbed the largest piece he saw. With a heave he tossed it at the horse, striking the animal hard in the front leg. The horse stumbled and fell, tossing the rider forward and off the animal. The rider barely missed the woman with the baby as he rolled. Taleth grabbed another piece of firewood and ran to the fallen rider. The rider stood himself up surprisingly quickly considering the fall he took. He unsheathed the sword at his side and brandished it at Taleth as the assassin came at him. Taleth shuffled his step and kicked hard, raising a spray of dirt and dust at his opponent’s eyes. The other man covered his eyes with a yell and swung his sword blindly before him. Taleth raised the piece of wood in the sword’s path and the weapon hit it hard with an audible thump, wedging itself into the log. Taleth threw the piece of wood down and the sword went with it, disarming the other man. Taleth swung low, striking the man in the stomach hard enough to bring him down. “Rek!” Taleth shouted out. Rek was right there behind him and tackled the unhorsed rider and pinned him to the ground. Rek had tossed a few drunks before so he knew where to put his knees and elbows to completely pin man. “Damn bandits,” Rek shouted, applying pressure against the pinned man’s arm. This resulted in a yelp of pain. “Bandits? Have a problem with bandits?” Taleth asked, reaching down and grabbing a hold of the sword and chunk of firewood. “Yea, though they usually stay in the forests or crags to th’ south n’jump travelers. Never heard nothin’ about them attackin’ the town before.” Taleth pried the sword out of the chuck of wood and threw the wood away. He raised the sword to eye level and looked down from the hilt. It was fairly balanced, enough for any fighting. Though Taleth would really rather avoid fighting in this large a group of people, because it would raise suspicions if he came out of it without a scratch. “Gag him,” Taleth said, nodding his head at their recent prisioner. “And bring him with. Where there’s one there’s more.” Taleth turned to where the rider had just come from and saw Rysabella standing as far from Taleth as she could. She was watching something down at that end of town intently, near the center fountain. Taleth figured it was the rest of the bandits. “Where’re we goin’?” Rek asked as he tore a bit of cloth from his shirt and used it as a gag on his captive. “To find out what’s going on, and hopefully stop it before anyone else gets hurt,” Taleth began walking towards Rysabella, Rek and the prisoner at his side. A few more men joined them, one of them, Kalek, had a sword that Taleth remembered sharpening and honing the other day. Also in step was a woman with a bow in her hand. Her name was Jiel, Taleth remembered, and she was on the of the food hunters who went out into the forests every day to hunt wild game. He hoped he could get out of this with minimal bloodshed, not only for his own sake but he found himself not wanting any of these people to come to harm. Taleth did not really know why though. “They’re after Al, Taleth,” Rysabella said as Taleth got closer. With every step Taleth had taken Rysabella had taken one of her own, until she was around the large general store that was sheltering Taleth and his group from whoever Rysabella was watching. She stopped at one point, apparently having gone far enough to see what she needed to see. “What?” Taleth said to himself quietly. Those following did not hear him but Rysabella could. “He said he was looking for the girl who could see the future,” Rysabella answered. Taleth swore, this time loud enough for those behind him to hear. He slowed his pace and put a hand up behind him to slow those behind him as well. Taleth could now hear a voice from the other side of the building. Taleth pushed himself up against it and those with him did the same. “It’s not a hard request to comply with,” came a booming male voice. Taleth crept his way to the corner of the building. “Two bandits a bit around the corner, not looking this way,” Rysabella said. “About twenty townspeople are being held hostage….damn, one is Miryan.” Taleth held his hand up, stopping those with him and he leaned just a bit around the corner. A man stood at the base of the fountain with his foot pressed against a small girl’s face. Taleth knew the girl because she was the one that he had taught a lesson to a bit ago when she was picking on Al. Right now the girl’s tears were streaking down her face and onto the dirt below. The bandit wore a flamboyant outfit that looked more like a pirate than a bandit. He had high boots, billowing pants and a multicolored shirt. On his head he had a great plumed hat with a large orange feather coming out from one side. Now that Taleth got a better look at him he decided he looked more like a clown than a pirate. “All I’m looking for is one little girl with one little gift,” the bandit said. “And I’ll gladly leave you people alone forever. You see, with this little girl I can become the greatest bandit in the world, and when that happens I’ll not be able to be bothered by the likes of some puny town.” He had drawn a rapier and placed the tip of the weapon against the girl’s cheek, drawing a tiny bit of blood. The girl looked like she wanted to cry out but if she did the tip of the weapon would dig deeper into her cheek. So she could only lay there, tearstained and shaking in fear. “Besides, I hear from my men that she’s not even liked here. That she’s a bad omen. Well here I am willing to take her off your hands.” Taleth scanned the townspeople and found Miryan quickly. She was kneeling with her hands behind her head. Taleth could sense the fear in her from even this distance. Her eyes were darting from side to side, watching her neighbors and obviously praying none would speak. “Come now, one girl’s life for your town’s? That seems an easy enough answer,” the bandit said. Taleth turned back to those with him. Rek and Kalek could take out the two closest bandits. His mind began racing through possible plans when Rysabella spoke up. “Taleth you need to act. Now!” she shouted. Taleth’s head whipped around the building. One of the townspeople was getting to his feet. Taleth recognized the man as the father of the girl with the rapier on her cheek right now. “I know where she is,” he began. “Just let my daughter go.” The head bandit removed his rapier from the girl and held it at the girl’s father, using it as a pointer. “There we go, my good man! You see? Now there is a man who knows his place!” The man flourished his rapier but held it aloft. Taleth took his moment. Taleth whipped his head back and looked directly at Jiel. He grabbed for her bow and was happily surprised when she offered it with no resistance. She was also quick enough to lean in so Taleth could grab a pair of arrows from the quiver over her shoulder. He looked directly at Rek before moving again. In a fluid motion he stood up and stepped around the corner of the building, an arrow nocked and ready. He let loose the arrow and it passed through the two bandits closest to him and soared through the air at their leader. The arrow struck true, slamming into the rapier’s hilt and sending it flying from the bandit leader’s hand. The two bandits closest to Taleth now reacted to him, turning to lunge at the assassin. However, Rek had taken Taleth’s hint and was now plowing one of them over, plunging his boot knife into the man’s stomach. This caused the other bandit to falter for a moment. Kalek was a bit slower than Rek with reacting but he was there in time to swing wildly at the bandit that was still standing. The bandit was easily able to dodge the swing by moving back, but it made him rethink attacking, especially when Rek stood back up with a bloodied dagger in his hand. “I’d not move if I were you,” Taleth advised the bandit leader. “Unless you can learn to breathe through a hole in your neck.” The bandit leader did as Taleth said, not moving except to hold up his hand to a few of his bandits who had readied crossbows. “Now, now,” the bandit leader said, holding his hands wide for a moment. “Clearly you’re outnumbered here. Even if you shoot, you’ll still die.” “This is true,” Taleth said. His voice suddenly changed from the bright cheery Lothan to the cold, hard Taleth. “But then so will you. I can accept my death, can you accept yours?” This brought the correct reaction from the bandit leader as his eyes widened. True, Taleth would be shot several times, but the man who stood at the end of Taleth’s arrow would also die, and he did not look like he wanted to make that sacrifice. “You make a persuasive argument, my friend,” the bandit leader said, taking a step backwards, lifting his foot from the young girl. Her father was there quickly to snatch her up and bring her to safety. “Then leave and never return, it’s a cheap price to pay for your life,” Taleth said. “Ah, but that I’m afraid I cannot do,” the bandit leader said. “I will be back another day for my prize. And of course, now that you had to go and play hero, I’ll be back for you too.” The bandit leader laughed a sinister laugh as he continued his steps backward to his horse. “That’s a bad idea,” Taleth warned. “If you see me again it will be the last time.” “That was my understanding,” the bandit leader said with a smirk. He spun and mounted his horse in one fluid movement. Taleth had to fight the urge to shoot. Shooting and killing the leader would make the bandits try to kill anyone. As long as Taleth was holding the man hostage they would not harm anyone. “Let’s head out men, I’ll just claim my prize another day.” The bandit leader turned and gave Taleth a good long look. “Make that ‘prizes’ actually.” With that the bandit leader clicked his heels into the horse’s flank and took off. The other bandits moved slowly but ended up doing the same. Some kept their weapons trained on Taleth but Taleth never took his aim off of their leader. For a few moments after they went out of everyone else’s sight, Taleth could still seem them and hit them too if he wanted to, everything was deathly silent as most of the townspeople were staring at Taleth with a look of amazement, and also of fear. “I think you put too much Taleth into it for these Lothan people,” Rysabella said. Taleth tended to agree with her in that. To remedy that, Taleth suddenly dropped the bow and arrow to the ground and fell, unceremoniously onto his rear. “Gods!” he let out as he fell backwards onto the ground and began breathing heavily. “That was scary!” This was enough to break the mood as Rek let out a shout. “You monster!” he shouted at Taleth. Rek stood over Taleth and gave him a great big grin. “Where’d ya learn to shoot like that?!” Rek reached out his hand to Taleth. Taleth grinned back at him and accepted the help to his feet. “You mean you can’t do that too?” he said, elbowing Rek in the chest and giving him a short laugh. As if Rek had been the hammer, the dam broke and more cheers went up from all over and suddenly Taleth found himself surrounded by people thanking him and praising Lothan’s name. In an instant Taleth found himself a hero. And if there was one thing people did with heroes, it was celebrate. * * * Rysabella did not partake in the festivities that night. Her being incorporeal was not the only reason of this, for nobody will celebrate with you if they can not see or hear you. The main reason was because while the celebration was going on she had another vision, and like those before it, this one was clearer. Again she watched Taleth walk into the same room as before. “Ah, I figured they’d send someone to stop me,” the old man said again, without looking from his book. He continued flipping through the pages, perusing its pages for something. Taleth stopped short, and then shrugged to himself. “You’re apparently doing something problematic, and someone wants you stopped, old man,” Taleth said. The old man’s finger that was flying along the words on the pages in his book stopped moving. The old man sighed and turned around. Rysabella was unable to see his face this time since the fog that clouded the private parts of Taleth’s memories rolled in. Rysabella could make out more voices this time. “Rysabella,” the man said. “The Queen…” there was a pause. “…a poison. A deadly poison…” more pauses. “It affects us all.” The fog parted a moment and Rysabella saw the man’s back. “The Queen must be stopped,” he said. Taleth moved in front of Rysabella, placing himself in the way of her view. She side stepped Taleth but walked into more fog. She heard a grunt and a moan through the fog, and then nothing more from the other man. The next voice she heard was Taleth’s. “I’ll take the job,” Taleth said. All the fog suddenly vanished and she found herself standing in the road on the way back to the forge. Rek was stumbling drunk, half carrying, half-leaning on Taleth. Rysabella remembered that Rek and Taleth had drunk enough to put under a bull before her vision had even started. “Now, are ya shure ya can make er home from ‘ere?” Rek asked, slurring and churning his words. Taleth laughed a drunken laugh. “Of course I can!” he shouted, putting his arms up in the air triumphantly. This caused Rek to stumble to the ground. “I live righ’ over there!” Taleth looked down on Rek with a confused look in his eyes. “How’d’ya get down there?” Rek laughed and picked himself back up, slowly. “Alrighty then!” Rek said yelling loudly. “You git yerself home! I gots me more drinkin’ ta do!” And with that he began stumbling back down the road towards town. Taleth stood up from where he was crouched over. His eyes were serious and his body was steady. Immortality is not fazed with alcohol, no matter the quantities. Taleth was sober and by the look in his eyes, he was also angry. Rysabella was not naïve enough to ask him what made him mad. “I assume you going to pay the bandits a visit?” she asked. He gave her a short look that spoke volumes. “I am. The townspeople will report this to whoever serves as an authority around here and there’s a good chance that the local guard or militia will get called in. I don’t need that.” Taleth turned and glanced at Gregor and Miryan’s house. “I’m going to up the timetables. I’ll kill the hermit in three more eves, and then get the hell out of this little town.” “And tonight?” Rysabella asked, knowing the answer. “Tonight…” Taleth began. “Tonight I strike some fear of the Gods into people.” With that Taleth took off, running swiftly into the forests to the East. * * * “Dammit, Eylin, that hurts!” Aramis grimaced in pain as Eylin tightened the bandage around his hand. When the arrow had struck his rapier it also pierced the skin on the back of his hand. Eylin, one of the newer recruits Aramis had acquired, was busy bandaging up his wound. Aramis growled at Eylin but she did not seem to pay any attention to him. Eylin was a quiet person who just seemed to do her job and that was it. They had jumped her to mug her one day when she asked to join Aramis and his bandits. Though Aramis was taken back by this he was not one to refuse anyone who would want to volunteer for banditry. Eylin was not much of a fighter but she was good with medicines, herbs and bandages, so Aramis kept her back from any real fighting and turned her into a medic. “If it doesn’t hurt it’s not getting healed,” Eylin said in a soft voice. Aramis growled again but chose not to say anything more against that. He turned to the others around the fire. “So who the hell was that? And why weren’t we prepared?” he asked. The question was posed to the whole group but Aramis was mainly speaking to Sref, the man who had found out all the info on the town, including the rumor of the girl who could foretell the future. “I don’t know,” Sref said. “He’s not one of the townspeople I’ve ever met. But that was Rek with him so he might have been one of the loggers.” “Whoever he was he put a huge dent in my plan,” Aramis grumbled. “Now the people will be prepared for us if we come back again too soon, and if not then they’ll take my prize away and hide her somewhere, or worse, kill her before I get to use her.” “What do you want to do then?” asked one of the other bandits. Aramis could never remember all their names, and he believed he should not have to, anyway. “We need to kill him, of course,” Aramis said. “We just need to find out who he is.” “Wait…I think I know who he might be,” Sref said, snapping his fingers. “Last time I was in the town gathering information I heard talk of someone moving into the blacksmith down the road a bit. The one that was run by someone’s family but the son didn’t continue with it. Maybe that was him.” “A blacksmith?” Aramis asked. “You mean to tell me my entire bandit group was cowed by a single bow-toting, hammer-hitting, soot-fool blacksmith?” He nearly spat out the insults. “Yes, they were,” came a voice. Aramis looked over the fire and there, standing tall, was the man who had shot at him earlier that day. His face was flat and emotionless and in each hand he held one of Aramis’s men. Both were obviously dead. With a shrug of his shoulders he tossed the two bodies on either side of the fire. Crossbows were drawn in an instant and a cry went out. The seven bandits who were around the fire became twenty in the space of a few breaths, all with their weapons trained on the blacksmith. “Well, well, well…” Aramis started. “You’re not too bright, are you?” “What makes you say that?” the newcomer asked. He was perfectly calm, which unnerved Aramis. Even with weapons nearly breathing down his throat he was not even shaking. “I don’t know, I’d say the barging in and murder of two of my men all by yourself is rather dumb, don’t you?” Aramis said. The man was now surrounded by his own men with no escape possible. Aramis was going to allow himself to be smug for a while. There was no reason not to at this point. “Murder…” the stranger pondered this, looking to his side. “Would this constitute as murder?” he asked himself, at least Aramis assumed he was asking himself this. “Yes, I suppose you’re right, I’m not getting paid for this one, so it must be murder then.” The man turned back to Aramis and smiled. Aramis got a shiver down his spine. “Lothan! That’s his name,” Sref suddenly cried out. Aramis almost jumped out of his skin the bandit scared him so much. He glared at Sref and the proud look he had in his face a moment ago for remembering the name was instantly washed off. “Well then,” Aramis said as he turned back to this Lothan person. “Now we know what to put on your gravestone.” Aramis found that the man was not looking at him, but was instead smiling a smile full of pure evil at Aramis’s side. “Hello again, Eylin. Would you like to correct their error on my name, or should I?” the man said. Aramis turned to Eylin. The girl was ashen and shaking violently. Her eyes were wide and her hand was half-covering an open mouth. She looked as if she had just seen a ghost. “Eylin?” Aramis asked. “This is what?” the man said. “The fourth time I’ve run into you in so many years? You seem to be a bad luck charm.” Aramis glanced between the two and settled back on Eylin. “What’s he talking about? What’s his name, Eylin?” Aramis asked. The girl swallowed hard once and, in a voice that was dripping with fear she spoke. “Taleth…Taleth the Black.” Aramis spun back at the man. He still wore that smile of pure evil, and now it chilled even Aramis to the bones. His men also heard Eylin. This scared one of them enough that he let loose with his crossbow. Aramis watched as the bolt was deftly caught and then dropped on the ground. Aramis suddenly wanted to run but his legs would not let him, they were stuck in place. This man truly was Taleth the Black. More crossbow bolts were fired, and a few people even lunged at Taleth but most turned and fled. Aramis envied them, for they could will themselves to move. Taleth moved like a flash and disarmed one of the bandits, stealing the sword from his hand and using it to slaughter him and his companions. Taleth did not pause at this point. Aramis watched as the immortal assassin of legend went through his camp and killed anything that moved. Aramis continued willing his feet to move and, after a few seconds, freed himself enough to turn around. He took two steps to start running when he felt a pain in his back. He looked down and saw the tip of a sword sticking out from his stomach. He felt his breath leave him and the last thing he heard was a soft voice in his ear. “I told you the next time you saw me would be your last.” * * * Taleth wiped the blood of the sword he used using the shirt off of a dead body. He surveyed the carnage. All of the bandits were dead, and in short order too. It was a flawless battle, for Taleth anyway. But there was one problem. Taleth sighed and turned around, staring the young girl Eylin in the eyes. “Now what to do about you?” Taleth asked himself. “You’re going to let her go, like you promised,” Rysabella said from his side. Taleth turned and looked at the former queen. “You know when I made that promise I didn’t think I’d continue running into her,” Taleth said. “I don’t care,” Rysabella said matter-of-factly. Taleth sighed and turned back to Eylin. “It appears as if you survive yet another run in with the infamous Taleth the Black. Might I suggest a different line of work? The last two times you’ve been with stupid bandits have turned out very badly for them.” “Why do you keep letting me live?” she asked in a small voice. Taleth shrugged. “My conscience won’t let me kill you, against my better judgment. She seems to have taken a shine to you the first time we met. You saved a child against the orders you were given the first time we met. That act of bravery and selflessness is just the kind of sickening thing that this voice in my head loves. So I made a promise to her not to kill you. The other times we’ve met….that’s been Fate toying with me. So now I’m going to let you go, once again. But this time I’m going to give you a little advice.” Taleth raised the sword over his head and plunged it hard into the ground right by Eylin. The sword passed just a hair’s breadth from her cheek as it sunk into the soil. Taleth lowered his face close to Eylin. “Run,” Taleth said. Eylin’s eyes widened and she shuffled herself away from him. She rolled herself over and obeyed Taleth’s command, taking off into the night. Taleth sighed once and turned back to Rysabella. “Thank you,” Rysabella said softly. Taleth chose not to hear that. “I have planning to do,” Taleth said. “We’re going back to the forge. I want to get the hell out of here before the gods decide to toy with me more.” * * *

Warriors, Warlocks, Priests, Mages, Shaman, Paladins, Rogues, Hunters......I see no Sexy class so I don't think Orlan could make it lol But....I did see a "Taleth" and was curious where that name came from hehe

Screaming Shaman F34r m3 and my finishing on the last day! (I swear I actually had it at 80% back at new years, really! ;P)

Miakel knocked hard on the door of the house. It was a solid door, made of oak or possibly maple. It was rapidly approaching dusk on this warm night and Miakel knew he was running out of options, and time. The small town had only one main thoroughfare and a fair number of houses lined that road, but only this one would work for him. Only this house would make him able to end all his troubles once and for all. He pounded again, harder this time. “Maybe they’re just not home,” said a little voice in his ear. “She’s home,” Miakel said back. Sure enough, a moment later he heard a latch being undone. “I’m coming, I’m coming. By the Gods you’re impatient…” a voice from the other side of the door said. The door swung open a little bit to show the face of a woman in her mid years. He face was round and simple. Her sandy blonde hair was tied back and covered in a kerchief. “Yes, yes, what can I do for you sir…” Her crystal blue eyes went from annoyed slits to wide orbs as she took in Miakel’s appearance. Her mouth dropped as she saw the blue tattoo that curved down the side of Miakel’s face, flaring out into flames of the deepest violet when it reached his neck. She knew him. She knew him as everyone else in the lands knew him: as a crazy man. She started to scream but Miakel was faster then her voice was, clamping his hand over her mouth and wedging in the doorway so she could not slam the door. “Quiet,” Miakel ordered. The woman’s eyes turned from shock and horror to a sudden look of lost. She was begging him with her eyes not to kill her. Miakel had seen these eyes before. Thousands of times they’ve stared him down. This time, however, was going to end differently. “You know who I am and what I can do to you, correct?” The woman nodded helplessly, tears now forming in her eyes. “Good, we can skip that then. I’m buying your house.” Miakel took a step into the house, lifting the woman easily by her shoulder and carrying her in with him. He hit the door with the heel of his foot and it slammed shut. The woman’s eyes flashed from fear to confusion, and then back and forth a few more times. “Listen, I’m going to remove my hand. Screaming will not help you and will just get more people killed than need to be,” Miakel said, removing his hand from the woman’s mouth. Her mouth stayed wide open, though she made no sound. Miakel reached into his cloak and pulled out a hefty bag that jingled the familiar tune of coin. “There are thirty-five gold pieces in this bag. I’m buying your house. You will get as far from here as possible and never speak of this ever again. That money should get you anywhere you want and give you any name you want. You’re now dead. The Screaming Shaman has killed you.” Miakel hated that nickname, but that was what the lands had dubbed him. It seemed that you yell one time and engulf a duke in a ball of flame and they think up the most ridiculous name for you. But the name always did the trick. No one wanted to anger the Screaming Shaman. “Wha-” the woman began. Miakel shook his head. “Go. Now. Before I change my mind and actually kill you.” Miakel thrust the money into one of her hands. She responded on instinct and grabbed onto the money. “You’re going to kill the prince,” the woman said, shocking herself. She gasped the moment she finished speaking and put a trembling hand over her mouth. Her eyes were shaking nearly as much as her hand. Miakel’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned his head to look at her only slightly. “Prince….yes, I guess he is one now. And yes, I am going to kill him. Once and for all. And if you’re still here in a few seconds you might precede him in death.” Miakel raised his voice just slightly, evoking the fear in her that he wanted. She took a small step back and clenched the bag of money to her chest. Miakel took one step towards her and that was all she needed. She was off, swinging the door wide open and running away without another spent breath. Miakel watched her go from the doorway and then shut and latched the door. “What makes you think that she’s not going to just go run and tell the royal guard on you?” a little voice said in his ear. “Because people are simple. And the simple point is I scare her too much.” Miakel reached up to the ear where the voice came from and grabbed hold of a tiny leg. With a flick of his wrist a small body flew through the air, moving swiftly toward the wall. Before the figure hit the wall however it stopped and righted itself. “That was rude, you could have injured me,” the figure said. Miakel gave an exasperated look. The tiny figure was female, with proportions that would make men go wild were she normal sized. Her long lavender hair, as long as she was tall, fell in circles around her, floating like it had a mind of its own. A pair of gossamer wings, like those of a dragonfly, sprouted out of her back. The wings were for show though; Miakel knew she needed no help to stay afloat. “No I couldn’t have, Ray’Shel,” Miakel said to the tiny woman. “Hmph,” the tiny woman said, turning up her nose at him and floating away. She spun and looked around the room, surveying it. “Maybe I’ll just leave you to be all by your lonesome then. Would you like that?” “You haven’t left yet, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon.” It was true. It had been almost 66,825 days since Miakel awoke and found himself lost in a forest with no recollection of anything before that point. He had stumbled onto this little sprite, or pixie, or elemental, or whatever she was, in that forest, and for some reason she attached herself to him. Miakel gave pause. He did know one thing. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he needed to kill one man. Now, that man was a prince, and quite a well liked one at that. But it had not always been that way. Over nearly the pass 66,825 days the man had assumed many personalities, but he was always the same man. He was the man Miakel had to kill. This feeling was the only thing that Miakel had from before the forest. It was the only thing he remembered. He did not know why he was to kill this man, all he knew was that he must. Seventy-three attempts he had made on the man’s life, and not a single one a success. The man was slippery, like a snake. “Ooh, it looks like she was making some tea,” Ray’Shel said. She floated over to where a cauldron was bubbling over a fire in the fireplace. She reached down a tiny hand and grabbed the side of the cauldron lifting it from the fire with no effort. Miakel glanced at her. This being, whoever she was, had helped him on every attempt, but no matter how hard they’ve both tried, the man slipped out of Miakel’s grasp. Miakel watched Ray’Shel as she set the bubbling cauldron on the ground. She shrugged her shoulders and the gossamer wings vanished from her back. She slowly floated down, sliding herself into the still bubbling water with a deep sigh. When she was sunk into the water up to her neck she let out a little squeak of joy. “Oh Gods, do I love being small and naked.” She glanced up at Miakel. “Care to join me?” she said sweetly. “I’m fine,” Miakel said. He turned from her and started moving a large bookcase from the side of the room so it was right next to the front door. “Suit yourself,” Ray’Shel said. She dipped her head back and finished getting her hair wet. She sighed happily as she ran her hands through her wet hair. “You know you really should join me here, Mr. Grumpy. When was the last time you relaxed? Hot springs are very relaxing.” “I have never relaxed, Ray’Shel. You usually help in that respect.” “Bah, that’s your own fault. If you would just….oh for the love of…!” Miakel turned and looked at Ray’Shel. The tiny woman’s hair wad lifted itself out of the water and was wringing itself out, dropping water on top of Ray’Shel. “Listen, a nice warm soak is good for hair!” she shouted at her hair. The hair shook itself and then fell back down on top of the water, but not into the water. It floated just on the surface, staying dry. “Ugh, sometimes I wonder about you even more than I wonder about him.” The end of her hair swung around and slapped her playfully on the nose. She laughed, a laughter which sounded like the ringing of the tiniest bell. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry. You’re right, he’s more confusing then you are.” The hair slapped the water once, apparently in approval. “I don’t know why I keep you around,” Miakel said, shaking his head at her. He knew why he kept her around though. She was the only person who did not look upon with fear or disgust; she has been the only true friend he’s had since he woke up in the forest. And more importantly, she has always helped him in his goal, the one he was going to finish tomorrow morning, when the prince was going to be paraded through this small town on his way to meet his bride in the capital. “Well I love you too, Mr. Grumpy,” Ray’Shel said. She tilted her head to the side and looked at Miakel. “Now get some sleep, I’ll wake you well before tomorrow morning.” Miakel unlatched his sword from his belt and sat down, his back to the bookcase. The sword has been the only other thing that has been with him all these nearly 66,825 days. It was Ray’Shel’s first gift to him, the sword and the teachings on how to use the magic that he now wielded in such a deadly way. Miakel paused a moment. Tomorrow was officially the 66,825th day for him since waking in the forest. Why did that day stand out so much? In fact, how could he remember so precisely the number of days it had been but everything else he remembered was blotchy and random, like anyone else’s memory. The number 66,825 meant something to him….but what? Miakel was not able to give it anymore thought because a moment later he heard Ray’Shel’s voice and could do nothing but obey. “Sleep…” * * * “Wake.” Miakel came instantly awake and was up with his sword half drawn before he stopped. Ray’Shel was standing before him, though she was his own size now. Her long lavender hair was replaced by a vibrant mane of red, briaded into a single braid that wrapped around her neck and down the front of her chest. She wore a maroon dress that was form hugging and provided ample lift where she really did not need it. “Do you think this will attract his attention?” “I’d hope so,” Miakel said, trying hard not to stare too blatantly. He shook his head once and got this mind back to task. He stood himself up and pressed up against the bookshelf he had moved by the door. Ray’Shel had thought up this plan to trap the man and had spent a few days going over with it again and again with Miakel. Ray’Shel would distract the man long enough to bring him a step into the house, and then Miakel would strike. They needed a house that was positioned along the route prince was taking but also that had something to obscure the view of who was inside. Miakel stood behind a bookcase now because of that part of a plan. He could not see out the door fully, but anyone standing at the door was unable to see in. This had to work. “He’s coming through, stay put,” Ray’Shel said as she opened the door to the outside. Miakel could hear a few cheers from outside as the man’s entourage made its way through this tiny town. Miakel could just barely see any part of Ray’Shel as she stood in the doorway so he had no choice but to wait at this point. He tightened his grip on his sword a half dozen times or so. It was an anxious twitch but he had to do something. His mind started to race as he heard the hooves of horses become slowly closer. As the time grew closer, things started to surface in his thoughts. These were things that confused him. He saw in his mind’s eye himself, laying motionless on bed of white, and he saw Ray’Shel, or who he thought was Ray’Shel, crying beside him. He felt cold at this image, and the one thing that kept surfacing thoughout this was the number 66,825. What was that number? What did it mean? Why does it feel so significant? He could not shake this feeling that he should know more about that number. In fact, he thought that the number had something to do with the man he was chasing after. The man! “…of course your highness, I am ever so elated that you came to our small village,” Ray’Shel was saying. Miakel zoned back into the room. The man he had been chasing was now only a few feet away from him. Miakel had to restrain himself when he heard the man speak. “Well I am a man of the people, young miss,” Miakel heard his slithering snake voice say. “And I am very concerned with people such as yourself.” The dripping venom of a deviant mind could be felt in the man’s voice. He was a predator and Ray’Shel was an unwitting prey in his mind. Miakel was more confident in Ray’Shel then in the man he was chasing. “Oh, your highness,” Ray’Shel said with a girlish giggle. She took a step back, more into Miakel’s view. “You are always welcome into my home, of course.” She took another step back, bowing as a gracious host would. Miakel heard the creak of the floorboards as the man took a step into the house. “Why thank you,” the man said. Miakel exploded in movement. With a roar, he launched his sword again the bookcase, plunging it blindly at his target. He unleashed his magic on the rest of the bookcase, turning it almost instantly into cinders and ashes. He saw Ray’Shel jump back a few feet to avoid the battle, and then he turned and saw the back of his target’s head as the man turned and fled out the door way. Miakel glanced at his sword, embedded against the other side of the door and one of the prince’s guards had his own sword wedged tightly against Miakel’s. He had been deflected from his target. Two other guards where on the prince almost immediately and were rushing him to the caravan. Miakel cursed. “Run after him!” Ray’Shel shouted. Miakel paused only an instant to reflect on her words. Ray’Shel’s words were not the orders or playful suggestions that Miakel was so normally used to, but rather they were full of fear. Not fear for herself, but fear for Miakel. Once again, only for an instant, the image of her crying over his body appeared in his mind. “You don’t have time to waste!” Ray’Shel shouted again. Her body exploded in light and she was once again as he had always known her, yet this time she was a fairy in full size. She glowed with a blue power and slammed herself into the guard who had pinned Miakel’s sword to the wall. Miakel wasted no more time on thinking but rather followed Ray’Shel’s plea and took off after the man. Miakel could see more guards coming at him with their swords drawn but he spared them no real concern. His target was being moved to someplace Miakel could not afford to let him arrive at. A Griffon, its eagle winds flapping nervously as chaos was surrounding it. The stately face of the lion was looking every which way, readying for a fight but not losing any regal appeal. Miakel dodged a sword thrust and slammed his palm into the perpetrator’s chest, exploding the man in a shower of flames. The explosion flung the guard back into another two guards. Miakel did not pause but continued charging forward. The man he was chasing never looked back, Miakel only saw his shoulder length black hair flapping in the wind. Another swing came at Miakel and he was forced to break his focus on the man to dodge out of the way of the sword. A lash of fire released itself from his palm, striking the sword’s wielder and causing a scream of pain. Miakel stepped over a burnt body and turned his gaze back to the man. Miakel’s heart fell as he watched the man be ushered onto the waiting Griffon by three guards. One of the guards slapped the Griffon’s hind side with the blunt edge of his sword. The Griffon reared and with a flap of its wings was off the ground. Miakel roared in frustration as his goal was flying away. He slammed his wrists together and a cone of flames formed at his hands and erupted, engulfing everything in front of Miakel. The three guards were consumed in flames, but the man escaped, the Griffon taking mad flight for fear of the fire. “NO!” Miakel roared at the man. “After him!” Ray’Shel shouted from behind the Screaming Shaman. “How?” Miakel demanded, turning to his side in time to see Ray’Shel running towards him. Her body suddenly lurched and elongated as she turned herself into a bright red dragon, about three times the size of a man. Smoke seeped out of the dragon’s mouth and violet eyes stared Miakel down as the dragon ran towards him. Miakel took two steps and jumped to the dragon, climbing up on its back without a moments pause. The dragon Ray’Shel spread its wings and took off with a mighty thrust of its hind legs. Miakel raised a hand to his eyes as he looked up after the griffon. The man was steering the beast into the sun, and though Miakel could make the outline of the griffon in the sun, he could not make out exactly where to go. But Ray’Shel could. The dragon’s wings beat rapidly and Miakel grabbed on to some of the large dragon scales that protruded from the dragon’s neck and held on tight as the wind whipped past him. The dragon was gaining on the griffon, but Miakel was unable to make out more then a line in the sun. “You need to hold on!” Ray’Shel’s voice sounded directly in Miakel’s head. “You need to grab on to him and hold on!” “I can’t see him,” Miakel yelled back over the roar of the wind. “He’s just ahead,” Ray’Shel’s voice echoed in his mind. “You need to reach forward and grab hold.” “What?” Miakel yelled out. “You need to trust me. I know you can do this. We have no time left, you need to hold on!” Miakel was slightly confused but he knew better than to argue with Ray’Shel. He also knew that he owed Ray’Shel his life many times over. Miakel climbed his way up the dragon’s neck, a feat complicated by the whipping wing and unsteady flight. Miakel was unable to shield his eyes anymore since he had to use both hands to stabilize himself. He was looking directly at a blotch of black against the sun. “Reach out!” Ray’Shel ordered Miakel. The dragon crunched itself up suddenly, propelling Miakel forward. Miakel took one of his hands off the dragon’s neck and lunged forward, his hand outstretched. “Even though I walk through the valley of Death, I will fear no evil…” A voice came from somewhere, Miakel did not understand who was speaking, but he could not afford to spare it a moment. Light filled his vision, his eyes watered and his breath left him. But he grabbed something, something he instantly recognized as a wrist. It was the man’s wrist, he knew it! Miakel clenched his hand down tightly. He was not going to let go. “And the lord is my sheperd…” the voice sounded again, Miakel grit his teeth and tried to push the voice out of his head, but it was so prominent. Miakel sought to keep focused, and make sure he held tight his grip. Unfortunately, Miakel felt his body jerk, and all his strength was beginning to leave him. Miakel forced all his will into holding his grip. Then, everything went white, and Miakel heard more voices. “What’s happening?!” “He won’t let go, help me!” “Get some nurses in here, we need to restrain him!” “What’s going on?” “We need Valium, 20ccs!” “Hold him down, then!” “My wrist! He won’t let go!” “Michael!” “Get another doctor in here, stat!” “He’s crushing my wrist! Help!” “NO!” Miakel choked out. His voice was obstructed with something that was in his mouth and down his throat. His free hand flew to his mouth and ripped it free from his mouth and throat. He coughed and choked up some things but he never let go with his other hand. He suddenly realized he was lying somewhere soft. His eyes opened and he suddenly realized that there were half a dozen people looking down at him. Miakel rolled to his side, dropping off wherever he was; it was some sort of bed. He took the man’s arm with him and continued to hold him tightly. The man was squealing in pain. Miakel glanced quickly down at his sole goal for the past years. Something was wrong, and it was more than the fact that Miakel was somewhere else suddenly. Was this man the one Miakel had been following all his life, the one who could answer all his questions? He looked pathetic. Miakel put pressure on the man’s arm, forcing him hard against the ground. Miakel stood over him, protectively and looked around at all the others who were in the same room as him. Most wore white, and Miakel realized he wore white as well. He had on a thin piece of white fabric, that was tied in the back, and that was all. There were two in the room that were not in white, though. One was an older man with small glasses. He had on a black robe with a high neck and a white collar. In his hand he held a leather bound tome. He was regarding Miakel with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. The other person was a woman who looked enough like Ray’Shel to make him think twice, but she was not Ray’Shel. She had on a strange black dress, and she looked as she had suddenly stopped crying. Her hands were out in front of her in a non-threatening manner. “Michael,” she spoke, her voice was soft and even sounded like Ray’Shel’s but Miakel know she was not Ray’Shel. “Michael, you need to listen to me, honey. Calm down, please.” Miakel was unable to calm himself, he was sure of that much. He kept glancing around, watching people’s faces. Most seemed as scared as he himself felt, but mostly, they all looked confused. “Where am I?” Miakel demanded, speaking softly. “Michael, honey, you’re at Journey National Medial Center, it’s a hospital,” the woman said. “What? How’d I get here? Who are you people?” Miakel demanded. He eased up on the pressure he was putting on the man’s wrist to stop the man’s whining some. Though this woman was not Ray’Shel, he felt compelled to listen to what she had to say. “You’ve been in a coma for a couple years, Michael. You were shot in the head during a robbery of the armored car you were driving. You’ve been here every since. Until today when…” she seemed to falter. “Until what?” Miakel demanded. “Until we were about to pull life support on you, since you’ve shown no sign of life since you were admitted,” the crying that the woman had apparently stopped only a moment earlier began again. “Life support?” Miakel asked, confused. “They were entrusting your life to God, Michael,” the man in the black robes said. “To let you live or die as He saw fit.” “Die?” Miakel said. As he spoke that word he realized something. This was the first time since he woke up in the forest that he pondered himself dieing. Over all the past 66,825 days he had never once worried about himself dieing. Death was never a worry no matter how close he came… Miakel stopped himself and thought. “Sixty-six thousand…” Miakel began. He was hit by a blast of light that blocked out all of his senses. Suddenly memories came clashing back to him. They were memories of his life, his real life. He watched himself born to James and Mary Shalmen of Detroit, Michigan. He saw himself grow, watching his life flash by. His grade school days, high school prom, college fiascos, his first real job, his new wife… His wife was the woman who was speaking to him a moment ago. Miakel knew that. He also knew his name was Michael, Michael Shalmen. What had the last 66,285 days been to him? Were they just a dream? His wife, he knew her name was Rachel, had said he was in a coma. He had been shot. Was the past 66,825 days not real then? It was then that his memories reached their culmination. He saw himself driving his armored vehicle, and then the crash. Michael stumbled from the vehicle and saw a gun. He heard a bang as the gun fired and then there was black. There was one thing that he remembered, and that was the face of the man who shot him. The face of the man who nearly killed him so he was able to get his hands on the 66,825 dollars that was in the truck that evening. That was the man who Miakel had been chasing all this time without knowing exactly why. The man who’s wrist Michael was gripping hard right now. It belonged to his brother, Jacob. “You…” Michael began looking down on Jacob. “YOU!” Michael roared and pulled Jacob up. He used his other hand and pulled Jacob around to face him head on. He released Jacob’s wrist and instead grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and lifted the smaller man up, placing him nose-to-nose with Michael. Though Michael had significantly less strength than Miakel, enough adrenaline was flowing to keep Jacob from moving. Jacob’s eyes were scared as he looked upon his brother. His brother, who by all accounts, should now be dead. “You shot me! You shot me and took the money from the armored truck. I saw your face, I saw you pull the trigger. I have been following you all this time because you tried to KILL ME!” Michael shook Jacob each and every time he spoke to accent his point. “You tried to kill your own brother and for what? Sixty-Six thousand dollars?” Michael yelled and threw Jacob with all his might. The other man, the man Miakel had been hunting all his existence, was tossed across the room and into the wall, crashing into a small table that was in the way. Michael took a step to follow when the door burst in. Two large orderlys came in quickly. “Restrain him!” shouted one of the doctors in the room. The two orderlys were on Michael in an instant, grappling him and bringing him to the ground. Michael tried to free himself from the two men but his strength was waning. He realized he had been in a coma for two years, and that moving at all was a feat, but he could not help feeling defeated knowing that Miakel would not get his revenge. “Don’t hurt him!’ the woman, Michael’s wife, Rachel, shouted. She ran over to Michael and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his neck. Immediately Michael ceased his struggling. He no longer fought against the two orderlys who held him down. He took his gaze from Jacob, the man who tried to kill him. He sighed a great sigh and did something that Miakel never did. He smiled. “My dear, Rachel,” Michael said. “Now that I have you again, they can do me no harm.” Rachel quickly looked up at Michael, shocked at his sudden change in demeanor. Tears began again in the woman’s eyes, not the tears of sadness that Michael was sure she was crying for him not a moment earlier, but tears of happiness. Michael felt a pinch on his shoulder as a needle went in, and his arm became slightly cold as the Valium filled his bloodstream. But he was at peace, and happy, so when the blackness came Michael was not afraid, for he knew he would soon wake from this one. The last thing he saw as he drifted off was Ray’Shel sitting atop of a red dragon and looking down on him. “Well done, my Screaming Shaman,” Ray’Shel said, a soft smile across her lips. “You’ve won.” And then there was nothing but blissful and dreamless sleep.

For anyone who might be checking the boards in that instant. And also, since "scheduled upgrades" always work flawlessly and there are never problems that may spill over into the rest of the day. -The Big O

omg, it's Orlan! And he's speaking!

More post, adding prot, slightly. I have no idea how long this one will end up being but it'll probably be shortere than the other two. Meh, it's a living document, that's for sure so it might be uber long.

Taleth stayed in for the next five nights, and each night Miryan would look in on him at some point, just like he said she would. A hundred fifty years had given Taleth a unique opportunity to observe the behavior of people and Taleth was a quick and flawless judge of them. On the sixth night Miryan did not show up, though with the conversation Taleth had heard earlier that day he was no surprised. Gregor had laid down his opinion that day. He trusted Taleth enough to let him work in his father’s forge so Miryan should trust him enough to stop checking on him at every opportunity. It was a rather loud conversation but Gregor had won that one. As Taleth had said he would, he opened the forge back up and slowly but steadily, the townsfolk were appearing to have their tools mended, horses shod and even a few swords and axes sharpened, though Anage have very few uses for weapons. Most were only ceremonial or gifts passed down through the generations. This also gave Taleth an opportunity to meet the rest of the townsfolk. Though most were happy enough to see him, a stranger in their town, they went out of their way to avoid Gregor and his family. Taleth had asked Al for her help one day and she gladly helped him, but the entire time she was helping him the few townfolk who were around either ignored her completely or continually cast cautious glances in her direction. “I’m used to it,” she had said when Taleth brought it up later that night, as he was cleaning up. “Mom says it comes hand in hand with my gifts. People are scared of what they don’t know, so I scare them.” She gave a shrug and that was the end of that. Taleth liked Al. Truth be told, Taleth liked the entire family, even Miryan. They were simple people, with simple goals and simple lives. It was nearly impossible not to like them. Rysabella took an immediate shine to them and she reminded Taleth many times again and again that he was to not let any blame fall on them. The pestering became old very quickly. When Rysabella became adamant about something she also became obnoxious about it and she would treat Taleth as he was an ignorant child, constantly reminding him of things as if he had never done anything this before. “I’m just making sure you keep you end of our promise,” she reminded him as he squatted on a large tree branch. From his vantage point he could make out the light of a torch deeper in the woods. The sun had long since set and there was only a partial moon lighting the sky on this night. The torch light illuminated a window of a small tower that stood in the middle of the trees. The tower was there, of course, but it was also not there, split by some magic in order to keep it hidden from the people in the town. Taleth had a knack for spotting those things. Also, Rysabella could see through most things, a side affect from her current incarnation as Taleth’s unwanted companion. “I know what I’m doing,” Taleth said, sparing her a quick glance. She sat on a branch of a nearby tree, though Taleth knew she did not need to. She could stand in the middle of the tree and she would be fine. Sitting and walking and moving as everyone else helped her deal with the fact that she was no longer corporeal. “I know you know what you’re doing Taleth, but sometimes you get sidetracked, and I will not have those people suffer from you,” Rysabella said. Taleth sighed softly. The stubbornness of a woman was bad enough, unfortunately, this one also happened to have been a queen. Taleth stood up on his branch and turned Rysabella. He was about to chide her for being as stubborn as she was but he stopped short. Rysbella’s eyes were slightly glazed over and she was not focused on anything though she was staring at Taleth. “What? What is it?” Taleth demanded. Rysabella did not respond though Taleth expected as much. With a rather long jump Taleth landed on the tree branch upon which Rysabella sat. He waved his hand in front of her face and snapped his fingers a few times but she gave no indication that she registered this. Taleth sighed to himself and stepped over to another branch so he could sit and watch her. Taleth watched her with interest, noting how her lips would apparently mouthing something and how she was not blinking at all. The blinking was not unusual, it was one of the many things Rysabella would consciously do to make herself feel normal, but when she did not do it, Taleth knew she was not in full control of herself. This was actually the third time in as many weeks that Rysabella acted like this. The first time Taleth dismissed it as nothing because it was nothing. Nothing he had to concern himself about, anyway. But Rysabella began to act strange after it, though she kept to herself about what happened, which caused Taleth to keep his guard up about it. The second time, Rysabella had refused to discuss it with Taleth saying that it was not his to worry about, and that again, sit was nothing. Now, as Taleth sat staring at Rysabella once again, he spent his time going over possibilities of what could be wrong but without knowing what Rysabella knew all Taleth would fathom to guess was that he was involved in some way. “It’s a little unfair that I don’t get to keep things from you but you can hide everything from me,” Taleth said to himself softly. Rysabella stared beyond him with a glazed look across her face, saying nothing. Taleth sighed and glanced around him. The night was as usual as they came. The forest had its own orchestra of noises going in the background and Taleth could make out the faint glow of the town over the tops of the trees. The torchlight from the tower stood out as the only abnormality in the forest. “Taleth? What’re you doing?” Rysabella said. Taleth glanced back to her. She was looking up at him with a confused look in her eyes. “Why are you over here?” “Because you spaced out again,” Taleth said. “A third time. You want to explain it this time or is it none of my business again?” Rysabella let nothing go in her expression. “It’s nothing of your concern Taleth,” she said. Taleth let a little chuckle escape. “Why am I not surprised?” Taleth said. He leaned back and let his momentum take him. A moment later he was falling through the trees, reaching out once to break a large branch on his way down. He spun himself a bit before the ground so he landed on his feet. Rysabella was standing in front of him when he landed. “I’ve got everything I need out of this, we’re going back now.” Without waiting for an answer he took off, moving swiftly through the forest. Rysabella stayed silent the entire way back. Taleth did the same. * * * Taleth took most of his meals in the local tavern in town. This was partly because of the fact that Miryan was still wary about Taleth, no matter how much her husband assured her. Al had said her mother was just being over protective as usual and that Taleth was going to have to get used to it. Al was spending a fair bit of her time in the smithy, mostly reading, sometimes helping. This did cause a few problems because of how the townspeople treated her but when someone is concerned about another person they’re easy prey for Taleth’s disarming smile and attitude. The other reason that Taleth took his meals in the tavern was because no one talked more than a drunken logger. Taleth was able to gather a fair bit of information from what the loggers spoke of, even more so after they accepted him into their group. It was at lunch a few weeks after he moved in that they were discussing the hermit of the forest. “Nah, we don’t see him much, if at all,” said Rek, one of the older loggers. He had an ugly scar that crossed his face though part of it was hidden behind the eye patch over his left eye. Rek was seen as a leader to the rest of the loggers so when Taleth asked him about his difficulties logging with no perception out his left side Rek almost laughed himself off his chair, and Taleth cemented a place among the loggers. “But won’t you eventually run into him? I mean, you’re going to run out of forest eventually,” Taleth said. Joorin laughed at his side. If Rek was number one, then Joorin was number two. He was built much the same way as Rek but was not as ugly. “It ain’t a bad thing. Yea, we log the area but the hermit keeps the forest growing, plantin’ new trees once we log an area. My gradpappy said it’s been like this for over a hundred years. They figure he’s some sort of wizard or something.” Joorin shrugged and took a drink from his tankard. “He’s never bothered us so we don’t bother him. It works out best for everyone. Some people says he’s turned people into newts or something, but then again they says the same thing about that lady sorceress who’s with the new queen, what’s her name again?” Rek scrunched his brow trying to remember. “Mellara?” Taleth supplied, trying to sound as if he were guessing. “Yeah! That’s it!” Rek said slapping Taleth on the back hard. “Man, I seen her once, she was with some caravan that came through two towns over when I was out there. She’s a looker.” Rek toasted himself and took a drink from his tankard with a big grin on his face. “They says she’s been ‘round for over two hundred years,” Joorin said. “Two hundred or not, she’s still got herself a body like a fresh maiden, and that’s all that counts in my book.” This brought not only a loud cheer and laugh from the men around them but also a laugh from Rysabella who stood not too far away watching as usual. “You can tell Mellara that she’s admired near and far next time you see her,” Rysabella told Taleth. The conversation quickly deteriorated into overzealous descriptions of Mellara and the various things the loggers would like to see her doing, most of them lewd, but Taleth paid no real attention to it. Lunch ended and then the loggers went back to work in the forest. Taleth finished up his meal, bid the bar maids and tavern owner a good day and that he’d probably be seeing them tonight. That got him a chuckle since they had seen him every night for the past two and a half weeks. Taleth left the tavern and did not get more than ten steps when he heard yelling. “Why don’t you just go back with your other demons!” cried a high voice. Taleth honed in on the voice and saw Al hunched over on all fours. There were a couple books that were strewn on the ground in front of her but what Taleth noticed immediately was the small rock on the ground in front of her and the blood that was trickling from a wound on her head. Three children, about Al’s age, maybe a bit older, where standing around her. The girl whose voice Taleth heard was shouting at Al, calling her names, most of which were along the lines of “demon” and “hellspawn.” Clearly these children had been tempered to dislike Al. One of the boys lifted a larger rock to hurl down on Al. He dropped the rock as soon as Taleth gripped his shoulder, hitting a nerve point. The boy gave out a yelp as Taleth gripped tighter. “Now, now,” Taleth began as the girl and second boy turned at their companion’s yelp. “I don’t believe this is the proper way to treat another person, do you?” The second boy seemed frozen in fear at the presence of an adult. Taleth surmised that no adults took action when Al was involved in something like this. The girl, however, was not fazed. “She doesn’t count as a person!” the girl said strongly. Taleth’s face took on a slight smile that was somehow devoid of humor or happiness. He also tightened his grip on the boy’s shoulder, causing the child to buckle slightly as he tried to lean away from the pain. “Now that’s not nice, she clearly is a person,” Taleth said in a nice sounding voice that was laced with steel and ice. The girl was too young to pick up on that tone and she just continued on. “No, people are good. She’s not. My papa says she curses people and causes bad things to befall them. She killed Mr. Ioali two months ago.” “Now I can hardly believe that. Rek said that Mr. Ioali had a tree fall on him when he wasn’t paying attention, I can’t think how she would have had anything to do about that,” Taleth said applying a bit more pressure on the boys arm. The boy began whimpering loudly and tears began to fall from his eyes. The other boy took a few steps back, getting ready to bolt. The girl seems oblivious to both these events and kept her gaze focused on Taleth. “Nah-uh!” The girl said shaking her head and pointing a finger at Al. “She went up to Mr. Ioali and told him that he’d be crushed under a tree and sure enough she made the tree fall on him!” Taleth sighed on the inside. Al really did have a seer’s gift. He felt sorry for the girl. Seeing the future was a rare magical gift that was desperately sought after by all sorts of unsavory people. Al was not going to have an easy life once she started to master her magic. “That sounds to me that she was trying to warn him, not harm him. I can’t imagine she’d want harm to come to anyone,” Taleth said, ignoring the tears and pleading voice from the boy whose shoulder was probably near breaking. Taleth squinted at the girl and then added, “Well, maybe one or two people.” “Osalyn!” shouted a female voice. Taleth looked in the same direction the girl turned and saw a woman walking towards the group of them very quickly. “Osalyn! What are you doing bothering Mr. Millias?” “But momma…” the girl said trying to subtly indicated Al. The woman skipped over Al as if she did not even exist. “No ‘but momma’ to me, young lady. Lothan here is a busy man and we don’t want to keep him from his duties,” the woman said. Taleth guessed that this was one of the loggers’ wives. He had seen her before but no one had put a name to her as yet. “Oh it’s no trouble, Miss,” Taleth said with a smile. “I was mearly having a discussion with the children about how to properly treat another person and that throwing rocks is not a good way for young children to act.” Taleth nodded his head at Al who had kept her own head down this time, her hair hanging and keeping most of her face hidden. There was a tiny pool of blood on the ground under her now, though. “Oh,” the woman said as if noticing Al for the first time. “Yes, well,” she faltered, looking for some words. “Er, it’s not…” Taleth continued for her. “Good for children to act like that, yes, I agree completely which is why I was having a conversation with these three.” He turned the boy around whose shoulder he gripped and looked into his tear streaked face. “Have you learned you lesson now?” he asked sweetly. “Will you not be throwing more rocks at people?” The boy somehow managed to blubber out a “no sir” and Taleth let go his grip and then slapped him on the shoulder, hard. “There’s a good lad!” The boy grimaced loudly but seemed ecstatic that he was free. Taleth give the woman a smile and then reached down and lifted Al up to her feet with one arm and picked up her few books with the other one. Al kept her eyes focused on the ground but Taleth heard a very soft voice come from her. “Thank you,” she whispered very softly. Taleth rubbed her back with his free hand and smiled at her, though she did not look up at him. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Miss, I should go look at her wound so it doesn’t get infected. Good day.” Taleth smiled and nodded at the woman. He then put his arm around Al’s shoulders and started walking her away and back home. He could feel the eyes of the little girl still on his back. Rysabella, who watched this whole exchange silently, spoke up. “We have a little spit fire on our hands.” Taleth did not need the warning because he knew where the stone was coming from. The hand on Al’s shoulder flicked off it for a second and caught the stone before it hit her head. Taleth clenched hard on the stone and crushed it, opening his hand and letting the dust fall out. He put his hand back on Al’s shoulder and smiled to himself. Rysabella laughed behind him “That young girl will think twice about ever doing that again,” Rysabella said. “Well done.” Taleth glanced back to see the girl run after her mother, casting glances full of fear behind her at Taleth. “Good,” Taleth said almost silently. * * * “The water will be cold but after a momentary sting, it’ll feel good,” Taleth said. He touched the edge of the damp cloth to Al’s forehead. She did not flinch as Rysabella thought she would. The former queen smiled down at her, proud of the girl’s spirit. Taleth also seemed impressed. “Good girl.” “Thank you,” Al said for about the tenth time. Taleth smiled at her as he had done the previous nine times. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I assume you parents told you not to fight back against that?” “Yes,” “Good,” Taleth said. “They don’t deserve that. Though I don’t think those three will be bothering you for a while.” Taleth laughed. “They’ll do it again, as always.” Al sighed. “Yes, I suppose they will, because they’re simple. Simple people like to stay the same. Simple. Only the complicated people ever grow. I can see you’re a grower.” “Thank you,” she said. “Eleventh time,” Rysabella said. She placed her hand on Al’s shoulder. It was a symbolic gesture but Rysabella needed to do something to feel useful. “You still don’t have to thank me,” Taleth said. He dabbed the cut on Al’s forehead clean. “Well the bleeding’s stopped so it should be fine.” Taleth reached over and handed Al her books. “The books look interesting at least. Floriaye has always been one of my favorites. Are you reading this for school?” The town was fortunately large enough that they had a school. It was only one class for all ages but it was more education than most families normally gave their children. Young people who could read and write usually had a better future than a logger or milkmaid. The people here at least realized that. “Yes. We have to write a report on a hero, real or mythical.” Al took the book and hugged it to her chest. “Mr. Alvina kept this book aside for me. He knew how much I liked the story and figured I’d come for it when the lesson was assigned.” “Well that was nice of him,” Taleth said. Rysabella gave a small laugh. “You should tell her to write her report on Taleth the Black,” Rysabella said. Taleth actually gave her a glance on that one. She smiled at him and shrugged. “Floriaye is a wonderful hero to write about. I like the story because she was a roamer, like myself. She never stayed in the same place for more than a month and everywhere she went she was welcomed with open arms. A wonderful life.” Taleth put a bit of wistfulness in his voice. Al warmed right up to him. “I know!” she said brightening up. “And she’s unrivaled with the sword and dosen’t need anyone else to help her. And in the end she marries the blacksmith from the village where she was born, the one who made the sword she used all her life. And though she continued traveling she would visit him often and he remained in the same small village where she was from and they eventually formed a great city there.” Taleth gave her a killer smile and a wink. “She was an unrivaled swordswoman, stunningly gorgeous and she married the blacksmith,” Taleth pointed out. “Now you see why I like it so much.” Al’s eyes opened wide as she realized what Taleth was, or was pretending to be right now. Al then laughed, and it warmed Rysabella, even if she was dead. This was the first time she had heard Al laugh, or seen the girl smile and it was a wonderful sight to behold. Rysabella knew the pain that would be facing Al as she grew up. When Rysabella was queen they had a seer. He was an older man but he often told Rysabella about his life, and the problems he encountered. He had stories about the ridicule he faced, the dreams he constantly had and the endless hunting of his life by both those with good intent and ill intent. Rysabella knew that Al’s life would be filled with much of the same. She knew that laughter like this would not be as prevalent when the girl grew up. “Well, you should get going if you want to get some reading in before your parents start dinner but let me know if you need any help with your lesson. Believe it or not I can both read and write, and I know the Swordmistress’s story by memory.” Al nodded and stood up, giving Taleth a nod as she turned and ran a few steps out of the smithy. She stopped suddenly and turned back to Taleth. “Thank you,” she said. This time though she had a big smile on her face. “Number twelve had a smile at least,” Rysbella said. Taleth’s smile vanished once Al was out of range and he sighed and shook his head. “I hate small towns,” Taleth said, disgusted. Rysabella had gone though Taleth’s memories enough times to know that small town mentality hit him close to home. “I know,” Rysabella said softly. “I don’t envy the life that girl will have,” Taleth said. “I don’t either,” Rysabella said. * * * Taleth was cleaning up things later that evening when Rysabella announced a visitor. Taleth smiled to himself but kept on cleaning up his tools, acting oblivious to Miryan who stood in the doorway to the forge. She coughed once and Taleth turned around and gave her a warm smile. “Evening,” he said nodding at her. She was a proud woman, Taleth was sure of that, but right now she seemed a bit unsure of herself. She was wringing her hands slightly. “I think I owe you a ‘thank you’,” Miryan began. “Your daughter did that already,” Taleth said with a little laugh. “About twelve times.” “Yes, well, I believe I also owe you an apology. I have treated you very poorly over the past few weeks and--” “No,” Taleth interrupted. “You apologize when you do something wrong and you know it’s wrong. You were protecting yourself and your family, and for that reason I will not accept any apology.” Miryan opened her mouth to reply but Taleth held up his hand to stop her. “No. I imagine your life has been filled with more strife than anything else so you’ve learned to be wary of everything. You did what was right by yourself, and I will not fault you on it.” “Thank you,” Miryan said. “That’s thirteen, you got to stop that,” Taleth said flashing a killer smile. Miryan relaxed a bit and gave a small smile back to Taleth. “I don’t think we’ll stop thanking you, Lothan. But I would like you to join us for dinner tonight.” Taleth nodded his head. “I’d love to.” * * *