Orlan

Yay more is up and I got sunburned writing it. LCD screens are horrid in direct sunlight. Thank you thank you....I'm a friggin genius...I know I know...anywho... The polls are in and the votes are closed, everybody loves Coania. Coania, Coania, Coania. She's a fun character and, as Donaxon has already seen, she's got herself some potential. Trusting Ciran -> It's up to your judgement reall, but I know when I wake up late the last thing I want to see is the person who I was supposed to be taking the shift over for And as for the new part, we can see that Kisean's breacers truly DO matter. And hurt for that matter Introspective vs. Detailed Battle -> I have no clue how an actual siege would work, the battle stuff, so don't expect tons of detailed information on those. I LOVE individual fights though, as can be seen all through Final Death so expect a few more of those. Plus with characters like Donaxon, Ludia, Vasia and Kisean....you need to have a few fights. The hardcore fighters are always the most enjoyable to read about, R'Tearin will come into play later. He won't be given as much background and detail as the main six charaters but we'll see things to explain. If I go into detail about everything I'll become the next Robert Jordan....and I don't want to write a million pages for a story that should be 100 Coania and Ma'aten Scene. Done one, prolly be more. Vasia and Donaxon will find out about one another, that is sure About Ludia being right in that her archaeon is more important.....there is probably not a good opportunity for that anywhere yet. But who knows....maybe. Ludia's attitude will become more prevelent...as will her appearances in the next part of the story. As will Vasia and Gluake

Ciran sat atop the wall, staring out at the torches and lightstones that made up the enemy camp. It was quiet tonight, and that always gave Ciran time to think. Tonight, as Ciran stared out on the enemy army, he wondered why the House of Zolan was even out there. He had heard all the rumors that were filtering throughout the city. People say that Zolan wanted to knock Rhalir out of the favor of the other ruling houses. Ciran doubted that. Ciran heard a few old men speaking the other day about the fact that Phaen had gotten a hold of some magical artifact that House Zolan wanted. Ciran doubted that one as well. Lord Phaen was never one who cared much for magical items, or magic in general. He was a strong believer in the strength of the sword and those that use that sword. Physical strength was a virtue in Agregra. Which is why Ciran always wondered about why he was chosen as the fourth captain. Ciran was not the strongest, Kisean held that title by a long shot. Grol was next in line, and Ciran was third for the only reason that Lorathe was never outside enough to gain any strength into her muscles. Magically, Lorathe was the strongest, and smartest, of the bunch. Grol was the oldest and was right up there with Lorathe with intelligence, but he also had the wisdom of age with him. Kisean had that undeniable honor about him that people felt so drawn to. And then there was Ciran. He was a good shot with a bow, he could not deny that, and his vision was impeccable, but that did not seem like enough. The only reason that Ciran had ever been able to come up with was his family. Ciran was born to a noble family. The name of Laredrild had always been synonymous with the City of Agregra. Ciran’s father was an advisor to Lord Phaen, and his father had been an advisor to the Lord before Phaen, and as such for many generations. Ciran hated that legacy. He did not know what he wanted to do, but he knew that he did not want to be an advisor to some ruler. Ciran’s mother was a sorceress, though she was not a particularly good one. Her marriage to Ciran’s father was arranged, but they were able to make it work well enough, and Ciran still thought that they made a nice couple. Ciran inherited a little bit of magical skill from his mother, but he wanted to be a sorcerer even less then he wanted to be an advisor. He did not know what we wanted to do until he met Kisean. Ciran had met Kisean thirteen years ago when he was sent to go get a sword by his father. Ciran, being of noble blood, was able to go to the best blacksmith in the entire city, and possibly in the entire Four Kingdoms. That blacksmith was Naesik, Kisean’s father. Ciran could easily remember that day. He went into the blacksmith’s shop on his thirteenth birthday with money to get a suitable sword. The shop was empty today except for one boy just a bit older then himself. The boy was polishing a piece of armor and only noticed Ciran when he spoke up. “Excuse me,” Ciran had said. The boy turned around and looked Ciran in the face. After a moment he turned around and shouted back through a door in the back. “DAD!” he yelled. “You have a customer!” Out from the door emerged a tall man who was coated in dirt, ash and filth. This man was Naesik, the greatest blacksmith. Ciran remembered wondering if the man who smiled big down on him was actually the great blacksmith or just some fool they hired to replace him. “Ah,” Naesik said, “You must be Ciran. You father told me you’d be in later this week looking for your coming of age sword.” The man’s voice was very kind, but not the most honorific, as Ciran was used to back then. Naesik was not a noble, but he was treated with the respect that all nobles were granted. “Yes, Sir Naesik,” Ciran replied. “Please, please,” Naesik said waving his hand. “No ‘sir’ Ciran. I get enough of that from the older people. Just call me Naesik. Now then, put out your hands, palms up.” “What?” Ciran asked. “Well I have to see what kind of sword you’re going to need, don’t I?” Naesik said with a smile on his dirty face. He let out a little laugh. “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt you in any way.” Ciran slowly lifted up his hands and opened them palms up as instructed. Naesik got a serious look on his face and scanned over the hands. After a moment he opened up his hands and scrapped a finger across it, gathering the dirt and ash onto his finger. Naesik used that dirt to draw a symbol on one of Ciran’s palms. Before Ciran could say anything about it he felt the familiar touch of magic. His mother would often times use magic to cure his ills or put him to sleep at night. Ciran watched as the symbol glowed green for a moment and then it vanished completely. Ciran looked up and was greeted by Naesik’s glowing green eyes. The blacksmith had a big grin on his face. “I have the perfect thing for you, Ciran Laredrild,” he said mysteriously. “Kisean! Go get me Rummtier.” The boy who was polishing the armor stopped and looked at Naesik. “You’re giving him Rummtier?” Kisean said to his father. “Of course,” Naesik said. “I know now that I forged it for him. I thought it was significant that I made it thirteen years ago today.” The blacksmith gave a chuckle as Kisean stopped what he was doing and disappeared into the backroom. “What do you mean you made something for me?” Ciran asked, confused. His hands were still out before him. “The gods gave me an amazing gift, young Laredrild,” Naesik said. “There is nothing different from anything I forge then from anything that any other competent blacksmith forges. True, things I make will have magic in it, but that’s because I have magic in myself. Other blacksmiths have the same ability. The difference is in the user. The gifts the gods gave me was to be able to find the correct wielder for my weapons. One day, the weapons and armor I make will reach their destined hands and when that happens, together they will make a legend.” Naesik winked down on Ciran. “I’ll tell you a secret that not many know. I make weapons that the foolishly rich will spend an endless amount on. Yet those weapons will never be magic or legendary because they are not destined to be together with those people. My prices are inflated for two reasons. The first is that they’re not going to do any more good in the hands of a normal person then any sword you find. I need to find the right people for the right weapons.” Kisean came out from the back room with something wrapped in cloth. It was fairly large for a sword. Ciran did not think that he would be able to wield that. “What’s the other reason?” Ciran asked. Naesik glanced once at Kisean and then back at Ciran. “The boy eats like a horse, I have to pay for all that food somehow.” Kisean punched his father in the shoulder. Ciran laughed. Naesik took the bundle from Kisean and immediately unwrapped it and presented Ciran with it. Ciran was shocked to see that it was not a sword, but rather a bow. “But Naesik,” Ciran said. “My father said I was to get a sword.” Naesik waved his hand, tossing some black slime around. “Bah, your father,” Naesik said. “What does he know about swords, he’s an advisor. Besides, he said he’d leave it to me to arm you. Kisean! Take him out back and let him fire off some arrows, see if he likes Rummtier. Of course he will though. Still, it’s good business.” Ciran sat atop the wall running his finger over the steel bow that sat in his lap. For thirteen years he and Rummtier had been together. That was also the same time that Kisean and he became friends. Kisean was also the reason, much Ciran’s parent’s woes, that Ciran joined the home guard. When Kisean was promoted to captain Ciran was happy for his friend. It came as an utter shock when Phaen announced Ciran’s name as the last new captain. Kisean had told Ciran that Naesik had been pivotal in choosing captains when he was still alive, and that he often mentioned names to Phaen. Kisean was sure that his father had mentioned Ciran’s name. Ciran was always unsure of that. Ciran was snapped from his memories when the torch he had been focusing on went out. Ciran blinked a few times to get his mind back from the past. He looked around at other torches and noticed that there seemed to be fewer torches lit up. “Gluake, can I get the Eyes of the Eagle?” Ciran asked. He felt the familiar touch of magic as his sight increased fivefold. Unfortunately all he could see was blackness anyplace there were no lights. “Do you happen to have something to see through darkness as well?” “I do,” Gluake responded. Ciran waited a moment and felt the touch of magic again. Nothing happened though. “Was that it?” Ciran asked. “That it was,” Gluake said. “Nothing happen?” “No.” “I figured as much,” Gluake said. “I don’t think I have anything that can pierce the wards they put up. Is it that important?” “Not really,” Ciran said, though he had a strange premonition that something was going to happen. “Gluake do me a favor. Check your defenses.” “Why?” “I just have a strange feeling. Though it’s probably nothing.” “I know enough to trust your assumptions, Ciran. I’ll see if I can find any holes.” “Thanks, Gluake,” Ciran said. Ciran made a note to mention this to Kisean and probably also Vasia. He was not sure enough about it to tell anyone other then those two, though. He also did not want to go full shifts with all four captains. He needed his sleep. * * * Donaxon could hear as well as feel the fighting going on at the other side of the city. At sunlight on the third day Avoil sent four or his archaeons against the city of Agregra. Donaxon could see occasional flares of spells flashing in the sky. He could also feel the lives of those fighting as they went out. Donaxon, however, kept his focus as always. Still, it was unfortunate that so many were dieing. “Jidan Donaxon?” Donaxon turned and saw Misheal standing next to him. She had been a student of his several years ago and was his first choice to lead this attack. She was a fearsome warrior and a good leader. Donaxon felt confident with her. “Just focusing, Misheal,” Donaxon replied. She nodded and turned to look back at the wall that was a hundred feet from the group of seventy soldiers. Ma’aten’s best mage, Jiklan stood beside Misheal. He held in his hand a glowing orb that continued to pulse, indicating that the invisibility spell they had over them was still in place. Jiklan was skeptical of Donaxon, and of this mission. He had told both Donaxon and Misheal on several occasions that he’d rather be fighting then doing espionage like this. Donaxon felt it a waste of his breath to explain how important this could be. “There’s your signal, Monk,” Jiklan said. Donaxon also noticed a total lack of respect from the mage who had probably become a man of age last month. Donaxon had noticed the signal as well. A streak of red flame was launched into the sky and soared high up, becoming too far away for normal sight. “I see it, Jiklan,” Donaxon replied. “I’m leaving, the spell, do not move from this stop or drop the spell until I say so. That is a direct order. What I have to do will break the spell if I stay under it.” “You cannot break my spell,” Jiklan said arrogantly. Donaxon was already focusing and did not answer that. Misheal answered for him. “Shut up, Mage, least I chop you into little bits and feed you to Ma’aten. We will obey your orders, Jidan.” Misheal brought her fist to her chest in salute. Jiklan said no more. Donaxon began walking towards the wall, his steps slow and methodical. He felt when he passed beyond the range of the invisibility spell, but it did not cause him to stop. There were no guards up on the wall at this point, and none where looking his way from further down on either side. Donaxon was free to do what he planned on doing. Donaxon inhaled deeply, letting his surroundings seep into him. He breathed as his own master, Jidan Rarua, taught him. Balance was the key; he needed to release the correct amount of energy from within him. Donaxon felt his senses heightening. He could feel the living creatures around him. Bugs crawled on the ground and birds soared in the air above him. He closed his eyes and opened his other senses to his chi. With each step he felt his chi gathering within himself. He tapped deep into it, breaking a tiny hole in it and letting it filter out quickly. He began meting it out, sending it to every part of his body, letting it gather in pools at his feet and hands. Donaxon pushed away the energy of nature that surrounded him; he needed to focus himself completely. A moment later he was right before the wall, and he opened his eyes and faced the crack that he had seen the other night. It shrunk a little bit, which means that the walls might have been reinforced last night, but the crack was still enough for Donaxon. He took a step back and set himself into a centered stance with one hand outstretched before him and the other at waist level with its palm up. He tapped into the pools of chi he had and started gathering them to his hand that was at his waist. He could feel the chi begin to overload his hand and he was aware of its red glow. Donaxon kept pushing chi into his hand, the energy beginning to be too much. He steadied his breathing and closed his hand into a fist to keep the energy where it was. His hand began to violently shake on it’s own but Donaxon continued to push energy into the fist. Even as focused as he was, Donaxon heard Misheal from behind him. “Keep your eyes open, Jiklan,” she said. “You get to see real power today.” Donaxon could not help but get a small grin on his face. He could feel the second half of the signal as it soared at the other side of the city in the form of a giant fireball. Donaxon waited until it was about to strike the wall. Donaxon stared hard at he crack and then it happened. The fireball hit and the High Magic in the wall wavered for only an instant. That instant was all Donaxon needed, he exploded in movement and slammed his fist into the crack. The world stopped momentarily as Donaxon’s entire chi slammed through his fist and into the crack, spreading out everywhere. Time began again and the wall cracked in a spider web pattern out from where Donaxon hit. A moment later, the part of the wall Donaxon struck fell inwards. * * * “Kisean,” Gluake said into his ear, “Lord Phaen called for everyone to go to the East side of the city where the fighting was. Why are you on the wrong side?” “It’s a few hundred soldiers right?” Kisean said back as he was trotting along between the inner and outer walls. “Ciran and Lorathe are already there, and they can handle it. Ciran told me about his premonition, I just want to cover all the bases before I go into battle.” Kisean ran by a woman he had seen before. He name was Premian, or something like that, Kisean thought. She was one of the people who volunteered to keep the soldiers on the walls supplied with water, and she was carrying two pails of water at the time. Kisean nodded at her and gave her a nice smile as he passed. She nodded back and continued on her way. Kisean went ten more steps and felt a chill run down his spine. Suddenly the outer wall exploded beside him. Kisean stopped suddenly and watched a large chunk of it topple over at Premian. He did not pause to wonder about the wall, but simply reacted and launched himself at the woman. His bracers flashed red with magic power. * * * The dust from the falling stone was blown away and Donaxon stared out over the rubble. He managed to break down a fifteen-foot long section of the wall. With the loss of the wall the High Magic vanished. Donaxon could still see it in the wall that was still standing, but it was no longer in front of him. He relaxed his chi and took another deep breath. It worked just as he thought it would. He turned around to see that Jiklan had stopped the invisibility spell and the mage was staring with his jaw dropped. Donaxon enjoyed that sight. He was about to raise his hand and signal the others to move when he heard stone being moved behind him. Donaxon spun around to see an enormous piece of wall slowly being lifted up. One side of it was raised enough to where Donaxon could see people under it. Donaxon immediately summoned his chi again and sent it out in a wave. He saw the outlines of two people, one was a regular person, and the other was outlined in a deep red, meaning he had a large amount of magic about him. Donaxon released the chi and let his vision return to normal. “Jidan!” Misheal yelled out. Donaxon did not turn but held up his hand in a halting gesture. The stone that was being lifted suddenly was pushed up and off of the people, the force causing it to flip in the air a few times before landing many feet away. Donaxon found himself looking straight into the eyes of a younger man with glowing red bracers oh his arms. In his arms he held the limp yet breathing body of a young woman. Before Donaxon could say anything arrows flew from behind him. A dozen arrows soared right at the two people. Donaxon was pleased to see that none of them hit their targets. The man’s free arm moved fast as it deflected each and every one of those arrows. Donaxon turned and faced his soldiers. “Hold your fire!” Donaxon ordered. “I’ll fight him. Do not interfere.” “Are you sure, Jidan?” Misheal asked. Donaxon turned back to the man and the woman. “If I can’t beat him then I doubt you all can,” Donaxon said. He took a few steps back and waited. The man obviously heard this exchange and lifted the woman into his arms bringing her over to a flat piece of broken wall, setting her on it. He then walked back to where he had been and slammed his fist down into a large piece of wall. Donaxon could not help the smile that crossed his face. This was going to be an interesting fight. With a shower of rocks the man pulled a wicked looking halberd out from under the fallen wall. “Well?” the man asked of Donaxon. Donaxon nodded. “Of course,” Donaxon replied. The man launched himself at Donaxon, covering the distance in an instant, thrusting his halberd. Donaxon knew not to underestimate and sidestepped the blow using the back of his fist to push the halberd off balance. His opponent was unfazed by this and stopped himself, spinning the halberd around at Donaxon. Donaxon ducked under it and jumped back a few feet. The man spun his halberd in his hand and then leveled it at Donaxon again. This time the monk went on the offensive and leapt at the man. He was able to speed by to get behind his opponent quick enough to bring his fist down at an angle, aiming for the man’s neck. Donaxon was not the least bit surprised to find that his fist was caught. His opponent spun his foot up and around, aiming right at Donaxon’s head. The Jidan raised his free hand and caught it, pulling up in the process. The man released Donaxon’s hand and kicked his foot out of the monk’s grasp, flipping himself in the air and away. Donaxon waited until his opponent landed and then took a direct swing at him. He was blocked by one of the bracers. Donaxon launched into a flurry of blows, and each one was met in speed and power by the man’s bracers. Donaxon paused too long after one punch and the other man took advantage of it, swinging his halberd at Donaxon. The monk leaned back and then snapped forward again to strike. He saw the butt end of the halberd’s handle aiming right for his head and he raised his arm to block. The steel handle struck his arm with enough strength to shatter an average person’s arm. The blow caused Donaxon to be knocked to the side. The man followed up his strike with an overhead chop down on Donaxon, the monk summoned up his chi and released it with a roar at the halberd. The chi was enough to knock the halberd to the side and the blade slammed hard into the ground beside Donaxon. Donaxon slammed his fists into his opponent’s stomach, knocking him off his feet and back a bit. When the other man landed Donaxon was already behind him, slamming his elbow into the back of his head in an effort to knock him out. Donaxon put enough chi into jhs elbow to put down a bull. The other man stumbled forward a little but did not collapse. Donaxon was caught off guard with this and almost did not notice the blade of the halberd coming at his head. He summoned chi into his forearm and raised it to meet the blade. The blade struck the chi armor and sparks of yellow scattered everywhere. Donaxon assumed the halberd was as magical as the bracers were. Donaxon wondered if he would be able to defeat this man without killing him like he had originally wanted. Donaxon slammed his other fist into the man’s face, and knocked him back a few feet. This granted Donaxon enough time to properly pool his chi into his fist enough for a Krazent, a crushing blow. It would probably shatter a few of the man’s ribs, but it would definitely put him out of commission. The man spun around, bringing the butt end of his halberd down at Donaxon. Donaxon dodged it and with a yell he slammed his fist into the man’s chest, releasing the Krazent. He felt ribs shatter. * * * Kisean clenched his teeth as he felt the blow shatter a few ribs. He used the hit to his advantage and immediately swung his halberd around. The blow that had shattered his ribs also blew him back a bit, and Kisean used that momentum to slash at the big man. He felt vindicated when he felt his halberd hit flesh, but was quickly out of range of his opponent. He was able to land on his feet, and through the magic in his bracers he was able to remain standing, though it hurt to no end. Kisean stood himself as straight as possible using the halberd as a cane and faced the big man he was fighting. The big man was bleeding from the stomach and was hunched over slightly. Their eyes met and Kisean felt instant admiration for the big man. This was the first fight in a long time that Kisean had been able to utilize all his skills. He was surprised to see all the similarities of the big man’s fighting ways with Vasia’s. Kisean assumed this man was trained by the Uri-Van at one time or another. A fireball appeared from behind the big man and flew right at Kisean. Kisean heard his opponent yell angrily but there was nothing he could do. Kisean raised his arms before him to protect himself, but he did not think he would be able to take the full force of the blow and survive. A flash of gray caught his eye and suddenly he was behind someone. The fireball slammed hard into the person before him and then suddenly vanished. Kisean looked to see an average man in a gray cloak standing before him. Kisean remembered seeing this man before. He was one of Vasia’s commanders. “Litlo?” Kisean said. He realized that speaking hurt him a whole lot. “I was fine to stand by if it was a one-on-one duel, but I abhor the use of sniping,” Litlo said to the big man who was watching Litlo carefully. “Unless I’m the one doing it, of course.” “Misheal!” the big man shouted out. “Rein in that damn mage!” He stood up to his full height, his shirt was stained in blood but he did not give any indication that he felt it. He looked straight at Litlo. “That was not of my doing.” “I believe you, you have an air of honor around you. However…” Litlo said. Kisean suddenly became aware of several dozen men and women around him. Every one of them had a crossbow out and trained on either the big man who was his opponent or the seventy some soldiers behind him. “We don’t take kindly to guests who come knocking and don’t even bring a gift.” Kisean knew he had to do something. He stood up to his full height, clenching his teeth together tightly to keep from grimacing. He tossed his halberd up a little and grasped it further down and leveled it at the big man. The big man surveyed the scene slowly for a moment, his face a stone mask. Then, quiet unexpectedly, the big man smiled and nodded. “My apologies. Next time I assure you I will bring some honey cakes.” The big man turned and looked at his soldiers. “We’re leaving. No arguments.” Kisean was not surprised when no arguments presented themselves. The group began to slowly walk away, the big man Kisean fought taking up the rear. After a little ways the big man turned around and nodded solemnly to Kisean. Kisean returned the nod. After the big man was out of his eyesight Kisean heard a familiar voice. “Kisean!” Vasia said. Kisean turned and saw her running over to him with a horrified look on her face. He figured he did not look very good right now. Vasia got to within five feet of him and he promptly collapsed. * * * “KISEAN!” Vasia screamed horrified. Litlo reached out and caught the halberd as it fell from the captain’s hand. Vasia was able to get there in time and catch Kisean. His weight surprised her for a moment and she stumbled to the ground. Vasia was able to keep Kisean from hitting the ground at least. “Litlo what the hell happened?!” “I felt something break when I was scouting along, and I saw Kisean and some beast of a man fighting. Kisean got in one lucky hit, but the other man had a clear advantage. I have never seen anyone move like he did. I definitely would have been hard pressed had I been his opponent.” Litlo looked at the other assassins who he had summoned to him and gestured something at them. Vasia was too busy looking over Kisean to reads what he was signing to them. “He’s got a lot of damage,” Vasia said as the assassins began to melt back into the shadows and the city. Vasia ran her fingers over Kisean’s face; it was cold, surprisingly cold. The clip on Kisean’s ear caught her attention. It was flashing red. Vasia knew that this was a communication device but did not know how it worked. It was a well-kept secret. She reached out to touch it and her head exploded in noise. “Do exactly as I tell you! Do not argue with me at all unless you want Kisean to never be able to move again.” The voice spoke directly into her ear and she reflexively took her hand off of the ear clip, except, her hand would not move. “First thing is keep your hand on his ear,” the voice said. “What…who are you?” she said. Litlo looked at her like she had gone crazy before he realized where her hand was. “It doesn’t matter,” the voice said. “I need you to carry Kisean to me. I’m flooding you with enough magic to be able to carry him, but only you can come. Tell Litlo to stay here and explain what happened. He can use one of the disguises he always uses.” Vasia felt a shiver down her spine as if someone was using magic on her. She felt strengthened. “What do I do?” she asked. “I’ll instruct you where to go. Bring Kisean down that exact path I give you. I need to patch up this wall. Now move quickly!” Vasia decided that Kisean’s life was too important to bother arguing.

Donaxon stepped out of his tent and was greeted by the sun, shining down on him. It was warm this morning. Donaxon decided he did not need to wear his tunic today. Today was going to be another day to absorb the world around him. He also had things he wanted to get done today. First thing on his agenda was to go see Ma’aten and ask for the aid of a mage. Donaxon planned on surveying the city’s defenses today and a mage with him would be a welcome help. Donaxon was aware of every single look and glare and curious gaze he received on his walk to Ma’aten’s tent. Donaxon took a moment to shift his eyes into different magical spectrums, enjoying every color that he was greeted with. Walking through a training ground for magic was always a colorful affair. Donaxon shifted his eyes back to the normal spectrum as he arrived at Ma’aten’s tent. One mage stood at the entrance. He was a young man, younger then Donaxon anyway, who was quite shorter then the Jidan. “I’d like to see Ma’aten, please,” Donaxon said politely. The mageling looked up at Donaxon with a skeptical look on his face. “Who should I say is calling?” the mageling asked in a superior tone. Donaxon wondered if anyone in House Zolan felt others were their equals. “Captain Donaxon,” the monk said, stressing the new title he received. This seemed enough to scare the mageling into acting. He disappeared into the tent and a moment later the flap was opened and Donaxon was let in. Sitting at one end of a large table was a boar of a man. He wore a mismatched pink and maroon doublet with a purple cape. He was almost as round as he was tall and none of it looked to be anything other then fat. The man had a bushy black beard with silver stripes in it. The small bit of hair on his head was the same color. Donaxon wished that this man before him was not Ma’aten. Unfortunately Donaxon was wrong. “Ahh, Captain Donaxon,” the fat man said in a loud voice. “Lord Avoil had told me about you last night, mind you he tells his Royal Mage everything, but I was hoping I’d have a chance to meet you. Would you like something to eat?” Ma’aten pointed the chicken leg he had in his hand at the piles of food that littered the table. “No thank you,” Donaxon replied as politely as possible. “I’ve actually come looking for the assistance of a mage for the first half of the day, if I may.” Ma’aten belched and thought a moment. “Well I don’t have any mages I can really spare for you right now,” Ma’aten said. Donaxon knew that as an instant lie. Ma’aten did not lie well. Donaxon figured that Ma’aten did not want to offer over any of his good students for fear they would not be adequate enough. Donaxon could easily see Ma’aten was a man with an inferiority complex. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be able to spare one? Just for a few hours,” Donaxon said. Donaxon became aware of another person entering the tent just then. A small waif of a girl with large glasses walked by Donaxon with a large plate filled with different breads. The girl had some trouble lugging the huge plate but eventually managed to get it on the table. In the process one of the goblets on the table was knocked over and spilled over the table. “Coania!” Ma’aten shouted at the girl. Ma’aten pointed his finger at the goblet and it stood itself back up, and the liquid that was spilled flowed back into it. “Can’t you do anything right, girl?” “Sorry, Master Ma’aten,” the girl replied in a soft voice. She immediately looked down at the ground. Donaxon immediately felt sorry for the girl. “What about her?” Donaxon asked. “She seems more of a pest to you then you need, Master Mage.” Donaxon tried appealing to Ma’aten’s obviously self-indulgent attitude. Ma’aten thought about it for a moment. “I really don’t want to push this nuisance on you Donaxon.” Lie, Donaxon thought to himself. “As I can see you’re a good man.” Threat to my position. “But if you must have a mage you must, even if it’s this third rate one. Coania! Go with Donaxon, and don’t screw anything up.” Donaxon had to resist the urge to reach out and strangle the fat man. Donaxon was not so much appalled by his putting down of the girl, as he was that this was the teacher for all mages in the House of Zolan. “Yes, Master Ma’aten,” Coania replied meekly. She did not lift her head to look at Donaxon for directions but Donaxon could feel her wanting to leave now. Donaxon thought it best to oblige her. “My thanks, Master Mage,” Donaxon said with a nod as he headed out of the tent. He immediately noticed a change in the air as he left the fat mage’s tent. Donaxon made a mental note not to visit Ma’aten any more then he absolutely had to. Donaxon turned to his side and saw Coania next to him, her vision still on the ground. “You see something interesting down there?” “What?” Coania said, looking up at the monk. “I mean no, Sir, nothing.” “Just call me Don, okay?” Donaxon asked. Coania put her gaze back to the ground. Donaxon gathered that she was somewhere in between embarrassment and meekness. He wondered if he made the right choice to ask for a mage’s help. This girl may be more trouble then she was worth. Donaxon hoped otherwise. He decided not to try any more small talk after his first few attempts went by unresponded. Donaxon figured it was because of the fact that they were in the camp still, but even after they were out of the camp she was silent. When they were about a hundred yards from the wall Donaxon focused his attention to the walls of the city. He shifted his eyesight through the magical spectrum, trying to find how the walls were reinforced. All the while Coania walked at his side, silent. Every once and a while she would raise her head and look around, yet most of the time she was staring down. Donaxon heard the twang of the bow before he saw the arrow. It came at him slower then most arrows, but that was to be expected from this distance. It was simple for him to swat it out of the air with his hand. Another three arrows came flying. Donaxon deflected them all with one hand. One of them landed at Coania’s feet and Donaxon was lucky to have been in the magic spectrum so he could see her reaction. Donaxon watched white light fly around her body in thin stripes. The stripes went vertically and horizontally all around her, crisscrossing into squares that an arrow would be hard pressed to be able to get through. The monk was quite surprised to see that level of magical control in someone so young. It took a fine control to be able to make the lines of magic that thin, and it took a massive amount of power to leave open holes big enough for other magic to seep out. “I doubt Ma’aten taught you that,” Donaxon observed to the mage. The arrows seemed to have stopped flying now. Coania looked up at Donaxon surprised, and, quite expectantly, the shielding spell fizzled and vanished. Donaxon let out a little smile. “What? I? That’s just a simple shielding spell. Anyone can do that,” Coania said, convinced it was not a very big deal. Donaxon rethought his earlier idea about Coania not being worth the trouble. “Of course it is,” Donaxon said, not wholly convinced. He continued his walk to the city walls. This time he stepped in front of Coania and led her along. She gave no objections to the human shield. When they were close enough Donaxon shouted out to one of the guards who was on top of the wall with his bow drawn and an arrow pointed at the two of them. “Ho, there.” “You have fast hands, friend,” the guard replied. “How fast can they move?” When he said this ten more guards appeared with their bows drawn. Donaxon stepped back, completely shielding Coania behind his massive bulk. Donaxon could feel the magic of her shield against his body. It was as well defined as he had seen it earlier. “Fast enough for fourteen arrows,” Donaxon said, noticing the two other archers who were trying to stay hidden behind arrow slits. The first guard’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, and then he lowered his bow. “Why are you here?” he asked bluntly. “I’ve come to inspect your fine defenses,” Donaxon said. “But strictly without touching, of course.” The guard signaled to his other companions and they lowered their weapons. The first guard leaned to his companion. “Tell Captain Lorathe about this, and tell the others not to waste their arrows,” he said in a low whisper. Donaxon picked up all of it easily. “Inspect to your heart’s content,” he said to Donaxon. “Just no touching.” “I give you my word that I will not touch a brick of your fine city this day,” Donaxon said honestly. The next day is my discretion, though, Donaxon thought to himself. * * * Donaxon had told Coania to keep her eyes open for anything unusual in the flow of magic within the walls. Coania wondered what unusual meant. She had been told many times by Ma’aten and the other mages higher up then here that the magic that went into walls was High Magic, and flawless. Honestly, Coania had never been this close to the walls. Now that she was this close she understood why others said the magic was flawless. High Magic shone a golden color to trained eyes, and the latticework that made up the walls was a beauty to behold. The patters where crisscrossed in every direction and in every plane. As far away from the walls as Coania had been the wall looked a solid golden color. From up close she realized that was just her eyes playing tricks on her. Donaxon walked a steady pace, his eyes going over most all of the wall. There was a constant set of guards walking around with him, though they stayed on the wall. They wasted no more arrows on the new captain. Donaxon honored him word and made no approach to the wall. Coania was not trained in the rules of warfare but she assumed this was one of those chivalry ideals that Ludia blabbed on and on about. A small flash of something dark caught Coania’s eyes. She thought the sun was playing tricks on her so she kept walking. A few steps later something began to gnaw at her. She began to wonder about that flash. Donaxon had told her to keep her eyes out for anything unusual, but Coania did not want to bother him about something she was not sure about. It’s just the sun playing tricks with the wall, she said to herself. A few more steps and she began to doubt herself once more. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but maybe it was not. Coania gathered up some magic and sent it out very slowly at the place where she saw the flash. Coania was a little scared of putting too much power behind this since she might be found out, so she took it slowly. She found the place where she saw the flash and molded a bit of magic like a thread. Then, using skills she picked up from her mother when she was younger, she began to knit. Coania closed her eyes but continued walking. She pushed the thread of magic through the latticework of High Magic. She moved the magic thread around for a bit, going up and down and then back around again. After a minute of very slow movement Coania hit something less tangible. She hit the other side of the wall with her magic thread. She had gotten magic through. Her eyes shot open; she wanted to tell Donaxon about this immediately. She was shocked to not see him walking in front of him. She became frightened for a moment and spun around looking for Donaxon. Fortunately he was standing right next to her. “C-Captain Donaxon,” she began. Donaxon looked down at her with a wink and a smile. “I know,” he said and pursed his lips in a shushing motion. “I noticed that a little while ago. I don’t want the guard to know that we found that though or they might make it disappear.” “Oh,” Coania said, understanding. She turned back forward and continued walking. “Though I think Ma’aten underestimates you,” Donaxon said. “I felt you thread that magic through the hole. That took an immense amount of skill to get through there.” Donaxon laughed a short laugh, his immense frame rippling a little. “I don’t even think Ma’aten would have been able to see that. Though just between you and I, I think Ma’aten has problems seeing anything other then food.” Coania could not help but giggle at that. She liked Donaxon. “Now, remember where that spot is in case I forget and let’s continue looking, we might find someplace better along the way,” Donaxon said, taking his place walking in front of Coania again. Coania turned her attention back to the wall again and continued scanning. After a few moments, though, she began to wonder to herself about how Donaxon knew she thread that magic, because he was not a mage. * * * “I couldn’t tell what they were talking about at all,” Lorathe, sorceress and captain of the Agregra home guard, said to the gathered company. Kisean sat up in his chair, unconsciously playing with the blade of his halberd. Ciran was next to him, leaning back by tipping in his chair. He kept his feet on the table to balance himself out. Next to Lorathe was the final captain, Grol, a short man who kept twirling his quarterstaff in his one hand. “Why couldn’t you?” asked Lord Phaen asked. The Lord of Agregra sat upon his throne in his royal robes, looking as regal as always. His perfectly parted hair and hairless chin made him look younger then he was. At his side was the ever-present advisor Ort, a balding man with a horrible sweet tooth. Kisean always thought that Ort looked like pig on its hind legs. He did not particularly like Ort, but he did not dislike him either. To Kisean, Ort was always just there. “I was too far away from them to be able to hear them normally, but whenever I tried to enhance my hearing with magic all I heard was the man’s heartbeat.” Lorathe sounded generally stumped, which always concerned Kisean. Of the four captains Lorathe was the most intelligent, hands down. She read all the time, constantly taking in new spells and information. Kisean figured that’s why Ciran never went after her. Lorathe was a fair looking woman with long brown hair and full lips, but she spent most of her free time reading and learning, something Kisean knew was not apart of Ciran’s repartee. “Gluake?” Ciran asked. “I tossed a few spells onto Lorathe to help as well, but she said she could still only hear his heartbeat,” Gluake’s reply came. Everyone in the room was wearing the ear clips so they all heard the reply. “I can’t hear things that go on outside without Spirit Walking out there, and that takes too long to cast to be of any use.” “Did he use magic?” Ort asked. Lorathe shrugged. “I didn’t sense or see anything if he did,” Lorathe replied. “Did we find out anything about this new person that Ciran saw arriving last night?” Phaen asked. “From what Ciran told me, this was the same man, but I haven’t heard anything more substantial,” Lorathe said. “Nothing from me,” Grol said. “Nor us,” Kisean answered for both himself and Ciran. Phaen leaned back in his throne and thought for a moment. “I don’t like this, but I really can’t do anything about it right now knowing what I know,” Phaen said. “Though I’m going to ask that we double up on shifts for the next week. If Avoil has someone this befuddling, then I want to be prepared if he uses him.” Kisean sighed. Doubling up on shifts meant less sleep and more responsibility. Kisean got a bad chill up his spine. Something bad was going to happen. * * * “A crack?” Avoil asked. Donaxon nodded. “In the simplest of terms, it’s like a crack in the magic,” Donaxon explained. It was later the same day when Donaxon was finally able to see Avoil. Right now it was himself, Avoil, Wreit and Ma’aten inside Avoil’s tent. Donaxon had spent most of the day planning out how he was going to go about and use the crack. After he saw Coania back to her chores he went back to his tent and meditated for a while, planning the next step. After meditating on it for a while he realized that he could break a portion of the wall as well as the magic infused in that portion of the wall. “And you can use that crack to take down a portion of the wall?” Avoil asked. Donaxon nodded. “The only thing I need to do it is time. That’s why I need to ask for a distraction.” “What sort of distraction?” Ma’aten asked. “I need you to attack the other side of the city with a fair sized force,” Donaxon explained. “It will take me a moment to gather up the energy needed to break the wall, and when that happens I will be temporarily vulnerable. Any distractions and the energy will be lost.” “Captain Donaxon,” Wreit interrupted. “As Ma’aten can point out to you, we have thus far been unable to damage any of the wall with any form of magic. What makes you so sure that your spell will be able to break the wall.” Donaxon realized that they were completely missing the point he was trying to make. The big man sighed. “I’m not going to use magic to break the wall,” Donaxon said. “Then how?” Wreit pressed on. “I’m going to break it with my fist,” Donaxon said. “Your fist?” Ma’aten laughed. “No one can break through that much solid rock unaided by magic. And the wall does not distinguish between one magic or another. It stops all magic. You’re telling me that you can destroy a wall with no magic?” “I told you before, I know no magic,” Donaxon said. Ma’aten turned towards Avoil. “My Lord this is ridiculous,” he said. Avoil, on the other hand, looked as if he was honestly considering this option. “Can you guarantee the wall will fall?” Avoil asked. Ma’aten gave Avoil a look and then turned back to Donaxon. “I give you my word that I can break a portion of the wall down,” Donaxon replied. He had no doubt that he could break a hole in the wall; his main concern was that the distraction would not be enough to lessen the guards at that side of the city. He could not bring a large force with him for fear that it would forewarn the guards to see so many soldiers missing from the House of Zolan’s camp. The distraction was just to get enough guards away from the other side of the city so that the small force would be able to capture and hold the opening long enough for reinforcements to arrive. “Then you shall have your distraction,” Avoil said, nodding. “But My Lord!” Ma’aten objected. “Think of the lives you’ll be wasting if this does not work. An attack is sure to cost us greatly.” Avoil reached out and placed his hand on the mage’s fat shoulder. “Ma’aten, do not worry,” Avoil said. “Everyone here is ready to give their life for their lord. Ludia herself wished for more action, and I think she will gladly take on this assignment. You will have your distraction, Captain.” Donaxon nodded his head. Ma’aten seemed less angry all of a sudden. Donaxon was surprised at how quickly the fat mage backed down. He was also surprised at how blasé Avoil was about throwing lives away. He seemed more concerned with the fact that Donaxon might fail then he was about losing soldiers. Donaxon chose not to press that issue. “Oh one more thing,” Donaxon said. “The girl who you sent with me,” Donaxon said to Ma’aten. “I would like it if she were to accompany me.” “Coania?” Ma’aten said, suddenly returning to his normal self. “Absolutely not. Since My Lord Avoil has agreed to this mission, I will not send some fourth rate mage to help. You’ll be taking along one of my prime students. Besides, Coania is one of Ludia’s mages.” Donaxon had to choke down the urge to question Ma’aten’s ability to judge people. Fourth rate mage…whatever. “Of course, Master Mage,” Donaxon said politely. “You should know best.” “Of course I know best,” Ma’aten said. “I didn’t get to where I was by being an idiot.” Donaxon had to choke down that one as well. “When will we do this, Captain Donaxon?” Avoil asked. “Day after tomorrow,” Donaxon replied. “Then you should get to gathering the men you want to take with you,” Avoil said. “I expect to be in Agregra by then.” * * *

Came across it from the anime sites I frequent a while ago. It was from some newspaper's website. I'd go looking for it but it was many months ago and I think I cleared my cashe long ago

Okay, for those of you who had read it thus far, I'm looking for a little input. I know where I want to go next, and I know how I can get there, but I wanted a little bit of space in between to give the reader a pause. Because of this I'm looking for input as to what YOU would want to see or hear to find out happening. So, if you have any ideas what you'd want to know more about, or maybe get one of the characters to explain, or see an interaction between two or more people (they'd have to be on the same side though) speak up and have your voice heard!

[same world as Final Death, different place.] “Money makes the world go ‘round,” Donaxon said. Yelian eyed the massive man carefully. To Yelian it was a little strange to hear a monk talking about money. He had always thought of monks as quiet, religious men who spend their time meditating and ridding themselves of worldly possession. Because of this he was a little shocked to hear his elders tell him his guard for this trip was made up of a monk and two mercenaries. He thought that was not enough protection for the load of silks he was transporting. The sun shone down onto the Southern Silk Road, heating the four travelers. There were a few smalls hills against the horizon though nothing that could block the sun before it officially set. Large grass waved in a slight wind. The only affectations on the landscape where a few enormous boulders that where placed further down on the road. It was eerily quiet. The only sound was the whisper of voices echoing in the wind. “That seems an odd opinion for a monk,” Yelian said. Donaxon chuckled. The monk was a whole head taller then Yelian, not that Yelian was the tallest of individuals. It was a hot day and Donaxon wore only a loose set of pants as he walked in front of the wagon. His chest was chiseled, his arms like granite. He was an imposing and quite frightening individual, yet Yelian felt at ease when the monk laughed. “We of the Uri-Van are not the type of monks that you hear about in bard’s tales,” Donaxon said, running a hand through his short hair. “And honestly, we’re not really ‘monks’ at all. There’s no real religious basis to the art we teach. We teach art that hones the body and the mind. You can find a god on your own, we don’t need to point you in any direction.” “Well if you’re not a monk then what would you say you are, Mister Donaxon?” Yelian asked. The road was empty and Yelian felt the need for some conversation to while away the hours until they reached their destination. “Just Don is alright,” Donaxon said with a smile. “That’s an interesting question really. I guess I see myself as a student of life really. Though I guess my field of study is a little different then most.” Donaxon gave him a wink and turned back and looked around at the boulders that were strewn about the road. Yelian followed the big man’s gaze and glanced about cautiously. “I don’t like this part,” Yelian said softly. Donaxon picked up the lament and glanced back to the merchant. “Don’t worry, Yelian,” he said, his smile never wavering. “You’re walking with the man nicknamed Jidan Axe. You’re safe.” “What do you mean by ‘Jidan Axe’?” “It’s a name the Uri-Van students have called me since I ascended to the Jidan rank,” Donaxon said. Yelian stared back quite blankly. “Jidan is the title given to the three masters of the Uri-Van. At any time throughout history there have always been three masters of the arts taught by the Uri-Van.” “Why three?” Yelian asked. “I don’t know about monks…I mean about the Uri-Van, but merchants are not ones to share the wealth or power.” Donaxon laughed loudly, his voice echoing across the boulders. Yelian glanced behind him at the other two guards. One of them had an amused smirk across her face while the other had his attention on the boulders. “Each is a master of a specific form. While all of us are proficient in all aspects of the art taught by the Uri-Van, like in life, we excel in different fields. Jidan Ilkren is the oldest of the three masters, being somewhere between sixty and eighty, we’re not quite sure. He is Jidan Xaxian, the master of weaponry. He’s a frightening man, though you would never be able to tell just by looking at him. The next oldest is Jidan Rarua, he’s a little younger then Ilkren, but not anywhere less powerful. He is Jidan Unalin, a master of the art of ‘chi,’ the inner power we all posses. That leaves me, Jidan Liaons, master of hand-to-hand combat. As I hope you can tell, I’m a lot younger then the other two.” Donaxon laughed at himself. “Anyway, once a year one of us goes out and does jobs for pay, that’s how we make money to keep ourselves funded. Money makes the world go ‘round.” “Do you teach anyone who comes to you?” Yelian asked. He thought that any knowledge that would get him to a level more on par with his masters would be welcome. He was a little tired of being a delivery merchant. “Pretty much, those who wish to be taught need to pass a few trials. But if they do then we’ll teach them as much or as little as they wish.” “What kind of trials?” “It depends on the person and they are never all the same. Sometimes it’s a test of wills, sometimes a test of physical strength, sometimes we just ask if this is what you really want. The trials all depend on circumstances.” “Wait a minute,” Yelian said, thinking. “You said that one of the masters, the Jidan, was a master of an inner power. Do you mean like magic?” “In a way,” Donaxon said. “But not really. The magic you refer to is either power borrowed from the gods themselves or power from the factions in nature. What the Uri-Van teach is to utilize the power you have within yourself. You can manifest it in many different ways.” “Like how?” “Hmm,” Donaxon said, turning and looking at the boulders around him. “We’re being followed right now,” Donaxon took on a teacher’s tone and raised his voice a bit. Yelian immediately tensed up when the big man said that. “’Bout five of them,” one of the guards from the back said. Donaxon glanced back and nodded at him. “There are five of them, but there are also two more mages. Well, one mage and one sorcerer though the difference is purely cosmetic. Those two are invisible.” The two guards behind the wagon drew out their swords. The horses they were riding neighed a little bit. “Now, I can tell that because I can feel individuals, while our friends back there knew there where five following us because of signs here and there they picked up. However, the one difference is that I can illuminate those out there, like this.” Donaxon stopped where he was standing and brought his hands up to his chest, placing one hand over the other that was balled into a fist. He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath sharply. Yelian was blasted by a short burst of wind. He raised his arms up to try and block his face. When he lowered them again he was staring at Donaxon who had a smile on his face. Yelian was also surprised to see that a glowing blue line outlined Donaxon’s body. He glanced behind him and the same type of blue line surrounded the other two soldiers. A green line surrounded the horses they rode. The most disturbing part was that Yelian could see outlines of more people through the boulders. They looked like they where on the move as well. “Neat trick,” the female guard said. “They’re coming,” said the other guard. “That they are,” Donaxon said looking to the top of the nearest boulder. Yelian saw an outline at the top of the boulder, and an instant later he saw someone leap from the top of the boulder, his body surrounded by the same blue line. He hit the ground before the wagon, a sword in his hand. The moment he touched the ground Donaxon slammed into him. To Yelian to appeared that Donaxon moved instantaneously. In the blink of an eye the Jidan had knocked the newcomer back into the boulder he just jumped from. The newcomer fell to the ground in a heap and did not look like he would be moving any time soon. A moment later two more men came around the boulders, running at Donaxon and Yelian. “This is the other benefit of ‘chi,’” Donaxon said with a wink to Yelian. The Jidan put his hands together over his head, turned to the men running at him and slammed his fists into the ground. The ground exploded in a line straight at the two men. One of the men was hit by the explosion and blown back thirty feet. The other managed to step to the side enough to avoid the explosion but immediately met with Donaxon’s fist in a blow that sent him rolling. Donaxon turned and glanced back at the other two guards. The female had dispatched her attacker and the man was in the process of running his off. Yelian caught movement out of the corner of his eye and watched two blue outlines start to get smaller against the boulder. “They’re running away!” said the female guard. She sounded more disappointed then outraged. “They obviously know when they’re outclassed,” Donaxon said. He gave Yelian a wicked little grin. “Jidan Axe, indeed,” was all that Yelian managed to say. * * * “I’m sure that My Lord Avoil will be happy to hear you agreed to the contract, Jidan Donaxon,” Wreit, the house of Zolan’s concierge, said as they crested a hill to view the city of Agregra. The sun was just now setting and the city was starting to light torches along the wall and in the city itself. Around the city in various tents and camps was the army of the House of Zolan. The various troops that surrounded the city were a little distance from the actual walls of the city. They were out of arrow range. “Here are nearly all eight thousand soldiers employed and conscripted by House Zolan.” Donaxon looked out over the soldiers and summoned his chi. “Seven thousand six hundred forty three,” Donaxon corrected the concierge. The older man turned in his horse to look at Donaxon. He had a surprised look on his face as he looked over the Uri-Van master. “I’ll simply trust your opinion on this matter, Jidan Donaxon,” Wreit said. “I can’t begin to tell you how pleased My Lord Avoil will be when you show up. We’ve hit a stalemate in the siege over the past month.” “I thought you said that the siege had only started a month an a half ago,” Donaxon asked. “It did, however we were not expecting the sort of defenses we encountered. This caused us to have to settle in for a full siege to wait for reinforcements.” “What kind of defenses did you encounter?” “The entire city is magically protected,” Wreit began to explain. “The city was built itself as a large magical rune, and there is strong magic that is reinforced into the walls, which means that any magic we try and use against it fails. Since our first attack wave was full of sorcerers and mages we hit a stumbling block right from the beginning.” “What about conventional weapons of war?” Donaxon asked again. “Boulders, catapults, battering rams and such.” “As you can see there’s not much around here except for plains and hills. There is one forest on the far side of the city but it has no boulders big enough to cause a dent into the stone walls. Aside from being reinforced with magic they’re also fairly thick, plus there is an outer wall and an inner wall as well. Even if we were able to muster enough to take down a section of outer wall we would still need the same amount of force to take down the inner wall as well. “Right now however we have people in the southern part of the kingdom gathering boulders and building more catapults, but they are still a month from arriving here, which means we need to make sure they can not get out of the siege.” “What about reinforcements from other Houses? Or from the new Queen? I heard she was laying down new laws.” “Queen Dayane knows about the siege, but she’s been advised to not take sides in the matter. Also Rhalir had recently entered into the disfavor of many houses.” Donaxon wondered about what Rhalir had done wrong to earn the anger in Wreit’s voice. “Halt!” a voice called out. Donaxon watched a handful of Paladins trot up to him on their horses. The Paladins all wore shining armor that reflected what was left of the setting sun. Donaxon clasped his hands in front of him as an unconscious act, an Uri-Van sign to show a lack of hostility. The Paladins, two pairs in standard formation, reined in their horses before Donaxon and his escort. Donaxon heard Wreit sigh. “State your purpose!” “Are you so idiotic that you don’t even recognize your leaders own concierge?” Wreit said, anger rising up in his voice. Donaxon figured if Wreit did not like dealing with normal soldiers. “Ludia’s orders are precise,” one of the Paladins said, looking over Wreit and Donaxon. “Once we get confirmation of who you are we will let you pass, not before.” “Then Ludia will be having a conversation with me later. I am Wreit, concierge to Lord Avoil.” “Who is the man with you, Wreit?” the Paladin pressed. Wreit sighed again. “Who he is fails to be of your concern,” Wreit said. “Now get out of my way before I have you demoted!” “Our orders are precise, Sir,” one of the Paladins said, his voice had indications of uncertainty at the thought of demotion. Donaxon smiled and held up a hand to Wreit before he could reply. “My name is Donaxon. Jidan Donaxon. Do you require any thing else, Sir Paladin?” Donaxon said politely. The Paladin seemed to get over his uncertainty and the air grew less tense. “What reason do you have to be here?” the Paladin inquired. “I have been hired to work as a mercenary for the House of Zolan, Sir Paladin. Is that acceptable?” The Paladin took a glance at Wreit and could tell the concierge was becoming agitated. The Paladin nodded his head and all four of them moved their horses to the side so the two could pass. Wreit immediately sent his horse forward. Donaxon let the concierge go ahead of him and gave the Paladins a slight bow before following. In a few strides he caught up to Wreit. “Ludia’s a problem I probably should have warned you about before I hired you,” Wreit said in a low voice. Donaxon arched his eyebrow at the concierge, a gesture lost in the darkness of the setting sun. “She’s not going to like the fact that you’ve been hired. And the fact that you’re a man will immediately grant you a wonderful seat on her bad side.” Donaxon laughed. “I’ve long since stopped worrying about others opinion of me,” Donaxon said. “Though I’m interested in meeting Ludia. It takes an amazing mastery to compel loyalty like that out of even the most loyal soldier.” “Ludia’s troops are loyal to her, and she’s fanatically loyal to the House Zolan,” Wreit explained. “She is just not a fan of men. Sometimes I think the only reason they follow her is because they’re afraid of her.” Donaxon chuckled a little and then followed Wreit in silence, a grin still across his face. After too long they arrived at a large tent. Two soldiers wielding spears stood on either side of the entrance and there was a small woman wearing a breastplate that was a bit big for her standing by them. She was looking around nervously every once in a while. One of the soldiers nodded to Wreit and stepped forward to pull back one of the flaps of the tent. Wreit slid off his horse and then stepped in, Donaxon followed. Donaxon heard an angry female voice the moment he stepped into the tent. “Why do you continue to not use my archaeon? We’ve been battle ready for a month and yet we’ve never been apart of any of the attacks.” The voice was a high alto, and Donaxon felt it was very musical. There were some silks hanging down from the top of the tent that separated the tent into sections. A large man stood before a pair of black silks where Donaxon heard the voice come from. Donaxon stood behind Wreit, able to look over the short man’s head. The soldier on guard was at eye level for Donaxon. “Tell Lord Avoil that his man Wreit has returned,” Wreit said to the soldier. The soldier nodded and turned, sticking his head through the silks. “I’ve told you before, Ludia,” said a male voice from the other side of the silks. “Your archaeon is being held back for defensive purposes.” “But my Lord!” the female voice started. “Wreit has returned, my lord Avoil,” the soldier announced. “Ah excellent,” Donaxon heard the male voice say. “Let him in, immediately.” The soldier pulled aside one of the silks and then Wreit glanced back at Donaxon. With a nod of his head, Wreit walked through the opening. Donaxon followed right behind the concierge. There were only two people in the section beyond. A man sat at the end of a table. Across the table was strewn various maps and sheets of parchment with writing all over them both. The man that sat at the end of the table was a short man with a neatly trimmed goatee. The man’s hair was cut short and nearly parted down the middle of his head. He wore a chest plate that was inscribed with magical runes that glowed to Donaxon’s sight. This man was obviously Avoil, ruler of the House Zolan. The woman gave Wreit an unfriendly stare that was immediately transferred to Donaxon when she caught sight of him. The woman was well built yet had a little more muscle then Donaxon was used to seeing on an average woman. She wore full plate mail that was buffed to an unbelievable shine. The burnished blue was shiny enough to see the candle reflections. The woman’s face was currently shrewd and, Donaxon felt, unforgiving. She stared down on Donaxon, her blue eyes glowing as much as her armor was. She had her black hair in a braid that went down the front of her armor to the middle of her chest. Donaxon noted that the armor was crafted for someone with an ample chest but he was wise enough not to laugh at that thought. “My Lord Avoil,” Wreit said, walking up to the man and bowing before him. “Wreit, my most trusted advisor, you have been gone too long,” Avoil said with a smile. “You honor me, My Lord,” Wreit said. “And this I assume is the leader of the mercenary group you hired for me?” Avoil said, standing up and walking over to Donaxon. Donaxon was a little surprised with how short Avoil actually was. Avoil held out his hand and the Uri-Van master took hold of it and shook it in a polite grip. “Mercenaries?!” the woman, Ludia, shouted out. “My Lord, you hired mercenaries?” Avoil flashed her a stone cold gaze that silenced her voice. He body was still tensed up in protest. “Not really,” Donaxon said to the woman. “He just hired one mercenary.” Avoil turned from his disciplining gaze unto Ludia to look at Donaxon. He had a surprised look on his face. “You’re not a mercenary leader?” Avoil asked. “That I am not,” Donaxon said. “Wreit, would you mind explaining why you only returned here with one mercenary when I gave you enough gold to hired an entire cadre?” Avoil said, this time through clenched teeth. “Oh he had to use all the gold to hire me,” Donaxon said, this time cracking a smile. He enjoyed opportunities to toy with people sometimes. Avoil blinked once and then turned to Wreit. “Wreit…” Avoil started in a threatening manner. Wreit’s arms came up as if he was warding off an attack. “B-but My Lord,” he managed to finally sputter out. “This is an Uri-Van Master!” Avoil stopped a moment and then glanced back up at Donaxon. Donaxon smiled big. “You’re one of the Jidans?” Avoil asked in a quiet voice. Donaxon nodded. Avoil turned back to Wreit. “My apologies, Wreit. You have brought me something beyond what I would have expected.” Avoil turned back to Donaxon. “My apologies to you as well, Jidan…” “Donaxon. My students call me Jidan Axe for short though,” Donaxon supplied for Avoil. “Jidan Donaxon, as Lord of the House of Zolan I welcome you into our ranks. Seeing as I was going to appoint the mercenary leader as a captain, I think I shall bestow the same title upon you, though by looking at you I think most soldiers will obey you regardless of the title.” Avoil laughed at his own joke while Donaxon gave it a little smirk. “My Lord I must still protest!” Ludia spoke up. Though she was speaking to Avoil, Donaxon found her gaze upon himself. She was apparently none too pleased. “While I understand the practice of hiring mercenaries, I’m appalled with the hiring of just one…man!” “Ludia, you should know better then to doubt your ruler,” Avoil admonished the paladin. “The man standing before us is worth his weight in gold. He’s a thousand times more skilled then any average soldier. You yourself have a student of the Uri-Van in your archaeon and you have seen how skilled he is.” “Of course, My Lord, R’Tearin has amazing skills, but you still will utilize this man before you utilize my archaeon?” Ludia asked, turning her gaze to Avoil. Donaxon was surprised to hear a slight plea in her voice. “A paladin should know to trust her leader in all aspects of war,” Avoil said, taking a final tone. “Now no more of this. I believe the sun has set and we need to get some things set up for Jidan Donaxon, here. Wreit, have another tent set up for him. It’d probably be best to keep him away from the regular soldiers. Do you mind?” Avoil asked Donaxon. “Not at all,” Donaxon replied. Ludia stood tall with her feet together and bowed to Avoil. “My Lord, I’ll take my leave,” Ludia said. Donaxon caught her eyes peek at him as she passed on more time. They were still full of ire. “Good night, Lady Ludia,” Donaxon said as she passed. She said nothing in return as she exited the tent. Donaxon turned back to Avoil. “She’s absolutely charming.” Avoil only sighed. * * * Ludia stepped out of the tent and the guards immediate snapped to attention. Ludia glanced at them only for a moment and then looked around for Belva, her aide. She saw the young woman shifting uncomfortably in her chest plate. Ludia had told her hundreds of times to just stop wearing the thing entirely but Belva had continued to keep it on. “Belva!” Ludia said sharply. The guards tensed up around her and Belva immediately stopped fidgeting and ran over to Ludia. “Yes, Captain Ludia!” she said. “We’re leaving,” Ludia said, giving the tent an evil glare. “Now.” Ludia took off in a straight line for her tent. “Of course, Captain,” Belva said. She adjusted her short sword on her hip a little bit and then took off after Ludia. Ludia was angry and thus was walking with a little more vehemence then usual. Several soldiers had to nearly dive out of the way to avoid the paladin. Word must have spread quickly and soon a path was formed, giving Ludia and her aide a wide berth. Ludia continued to fume inwardly about Lord Avoil’s refusal to use her archaeon. And to top it all off he went and hired some stupid monk! Belva’s voice broke the inner triad that Ludia was going off on. “Captain, is something the matter?” Belva asked in a small voice. Ludia turned to her side and was surprised to see her aide walking right beside her. The young woman was breathing a little bit more then normal and Ludia stopped and glanced behind her. She did not realize how fast she had been going until she saw that she was so far away from Lord Avoil’s tent. Belva must have had to run to catch up to her side like this. Ludia sighed once, trying to calm herself down. It only worked a little bit. “Yes, Belva, there is,” Ludia said. She started walking again, though this time she was moving slower then she had been before. Belva continued to keep pace at her side. “Lord Avoil continues to overlook our usefulness. And today he hired some mercenary monk to help him out. I don’t understand why My Lord decides to spend money on hiring strangers to fight for him when he has all his subjects who know and love him and are willing to fight for him.” Ludia paused a moment in her speech. Only the sound of her foot steps echoed for that moment. “And the complete arrogance of that man they hired. He’s a complete fool, and so is Wreit for believing him about his prowess.” “Who did she hire, Captain?” Belva asked. “Some Uri-Van,” Ludia said dismissively, waving her hand to add to her tone. “It doesn’t matter. No one would be worth the same as an entire cadre of mercenaries. And no amount of mercenaries would be worth the same as my archaeon.” “Of course, captain. Though maybe we should ask R’Tearin about this person before we pass total judgment off on him. He might know something specific about this man they hired and we might be able to use that against him.” Ludia saw merit in that. She remembered why she kept Belva as closely integrated into her duties as she did. Belva may not be much of a soldier, but every good captain needs someone who can think fast. “That’s a good idea,” Ludia said, easing down on her ire a bit. They had also just stepped into the area that was used by Ludia’s archaeon. Two fully armored paladins greeted their captain with a salute. Ludia acknowledged them with a nod. Belva stopped a moment and sent one of them off to find R’Tearin and bring him to Ludia’s tent as soon as possible. Ludia walked through her soldiers. She was proud of them, men and women alike. Ludia’s archaeon, like all the other archaeons in the army, was comprised of two hundred battle ready soldiers. What set Ludia’s apart from others was the fact that Ludia’s archaeon was almost completely comprised of her fellow paladins. The skill and devotion to achieve the full rank of paladin meant that her archaeon was among the most elite of all of the archaeons. Ludia was a little disappointed that she could not have only paladins, but the House of Zolan always had at least five mages in each archaeon. This had always been the way of the House of Zolan. While Ludia would not back down her in adamancy of an all paladin archaeon, she was not foolish enough to not recognize the help her half dozen mages added to the archaeon. “Anything else, Captain?” Belva asked when they stopped in front of Ludia’s tent. Ludia shook her head and Belva bowed once before setting off to her own tent which was a little further down the way. Ludia glanced once back over her troops. There where torches and lightstones propped up in various places in the camp, yet there was little movement. The night shift was starting to take over. Ludia sighed and stepped into her tent. She was not completely shocked to see Coania sitting in the far corner, peeking out of a small tear in the tent canvas. Coania was normally a small girl, nearly seen as scrawny. The fact that she would never completely stand up straight, or hold her head high never helped that appearance. Coania was one of the half dozen mages that were a part of Ludia’s archaeon. Ludia had requested she be placed in her archaeon ever since she found the girl crying in the stables several years ago. “Why are you here, girl?” Ludia asked as she had asked those few years ago. Coania turned and glanced at her and then turned back to looking out the tear. Silence was what Coania answered with back then as well. Ludia sighed. Coania was an amazing mage, with a great deal of power, yet she suffered from a lack of courage. Coania would never try something unless she was sure that it would succeed. She was too afraid of failure to always put her whole weight behind anything, be it a spell or just her own life. Ludia sighed. “What happened this time, Coania?” she said, losing the strict tone of her first question. Coania continued to look out the tear. “We were reinforcing the wards when I came across a hole in one,” she said. Her voice was soft. It was a beautiful voice, Ludia had heard Coania sing on several occasions, yet it was always soft. It was always soft and meek. “I went about trying to patch the hole, but it required a lot of force. As I was gathering up the force to fix it Ma’aten showed up and yelled at me for making the hole, and sent me away before I could try and fix it, telling me not to help again.” Ludia hated Ma’aten more then she hated any other man in the four kingdoms. “What have I told you about Ma’aten?” Ludia said, taking off her cloak and draping it over a table. “He’s an arrogant fool who wouldn’t know talent it if came up and slapped him in his fat face. He’s not fit to be a teacher.” And yet he was, and that irked Ludia more then anything else. Ma’aten taught all the students who came to the House of Zolan to learn magic. He was also the head mage and an advisor to Lord Avoil. To Ludia, and many others, he was nothing more then a fat slob with little to no talent and a penchant for boot-licking. Unfortunately there was no one else with adequate power who wanted the job. Most mages or sorcerers saw it as a babysitting job. “I know,” Coania said. Ludia was sure she did, since Ludia spent a great deal of time burying that into the little mage’s head. “Then why are you here and not at your own tent?” Ludia asked as she unbuckled her Bless Blade. She held the sheathed sword before her and brought it up to her lips. With a prayer to her goddess Faowind she kissed the sheath. The Bless Blade glowed blue for a moment and then returned to normal. She set the weapon on her weapon rack. Ludia then went about removing her armor. “And get made fun of by the other students?” Coania asked. “I think Ma’aten’s ridicule is enough for one day.” Ludia sighed again. She realized she did that a lot when she dealt with Coania. “Hiding will only make it worse, child. But, I can not fault you for wanting some peace and quiet. However,” Ludia grunted as she undid one of the shoulder straps. “Night has fallen, and you should get your sleep. I need you fresh for the new day in case, Goddess willing, we get called up.” Coania nodded her assent and stood up. Coania only came up to Ludia’s shoulder. Ludia always wondered how the gods put so much power into such a little body. Coania walked over to Ludia and helped her undo the strap that crossed her back. Ludia always had a problem with that one. “You’ll be fine walking on your own; just don’t wander into the other camps. Too many of these soldiers are less then honorable.” “I will,” Coania promised. With that, she left the tent. * * * Coania stepped out of the tent and immediately was staring at her reflection in an unbelievably shiny breastplate. Coania craned her neck up to see who she almost ran into and received a wonderful treat. R’Tearin smiled down on Coania. While Ludia was only a head taller then her, R’Tearin was nearly two, with the width to match. He was enormous, and he was gorgeous. R’Tearin rarely spoke on his own, and when he did, he was soft spoken, and his answers were short and direct. Coania lost her self in his green eyes for a moment. The paladin then stepped aside and bowed deeply to her, letting her pass. “She’s inside getting naked for you, R’Tearin,” Coania teased him. The Paladin raised his head a bit and winked. Coania continued on her way, sparing a moment to watch R’Terain have to bend down to enter Ludia’s tent. Though Ludia would never admit it, Coania know that she fancied R’Tearin. Coania turned back to watch where she was walking and saw twinkling stars all over the night sky. The torches where too far from her right now to hinder vision of the stars. Coania loved the stars. Night after night they would shine, regardless of if the clouds where out or not. Stars were never wrong. Stars were never afraid. Nobody taunted the stars. Stars just were. Coania wanted to be like the stars. She sighed and continued her trek to her tent. The chances of her becoming like a star were slim to none. Not with her life. Every day she would wake up and tell herself “Today I’m going to become a full mage. This is for my family.” It was what she told herself over and over throughout her entire time in the magic school. Her mother and father worked themselves to the bone to try and gather up the money needed for the entrance fee for the school. They were so happy the moment Coania showed some of the gift of magic. Coania could not let them down. “Nor can I let down Kilea, Grao, Melin or Jue,” Coania said to herself, listing off her siblings. As the oldest she had a duty to take care of them when her mother and father were working. Yet they put Coania into school, which meant that Melin was now in charge. Coania sighed. She should still be home, worrying about her siblings instead of worrying about her magic. She knew that if she could become a great mage she would be able to care for her entire family by herself. Her mother and father could stop working; she could get her siblings a tutor, or teach them herself. If only she became some royal’s head mage, or even a sorcerer. She sighed again. She was daydreaming, as always. If she failed in school her parents would be so disappointed, and all the money they spent to put her here would have been wasted. Because of this Coania refused to put her all into anything. Just in case she failed. If she tried her hardest and failed she would never be able to deal with it, but if she failed without using her all, she had an excuse. As she arrived at her tent she took a look at the city of Agregra, alight with torches. She could see a soldier moving around on top of one of the corner towers, probably keeping watch. With the siege going on, Coania often wondered if the soldiers of the House of Rhalir, the ruling house of Agregra, had wishes too. * * * Ciran wished the Eyes of the Eagle spell would have lasted a moment longer. He watched the girl walk back to where he assumed her tent was from the corner tower of the city of Agregra. Ciran was keeping an eye on Avoil’s tent when he noticed one of the Lord’s men returned with a frightening looking individual. After a while a female paladin Ciran had seen before stormed out of the tent and tore back to her own tent. After a while again a cute young girl came out of the paladin’s tent. Ciran followed her with the aid of Gluake’s Eyes of the Eagle spell until it finally gave out on him. “Damn,” Ciran said. He walked backwards and leaned against the other side of the tower. “Problems?” Gluake asked in his ear. The metal clip that Ciran wore on his upper ear lobe glowed red with each word Gluake spoke, for Gluake was nowhere near Ciran right now. “Your spell gave out right as she was going into her tent,” Ciran lamented. Gluake chuckled. “The Eyes of the Eagle can only amplify the distance you can see, it can’t see through things. You’ll have to try and catch her naked another time.” “You’re a dirty old man, you know that right?” “Of course,” Gluake replied. “Its how I keep sane down here. You’re shift is over with, you know.” Ciran nodded, even though there was no one around to see. “I know, I was waiting for Kisean to show up, but he probably overslept again,” Ciran said, shaking his head. His ponytail flapped from side to side. “I wonder sometimes about how he became a captain in the first place.” “His way with women,” Gluake teased. Ciran grunted. Kisean always had an edge when they would contest for a barmaid’s affection. Something about his simpleton grin attracted women like bees to sugar. “Har, har,” Ciran said. “I’m going to go get him up.” “After you do you should come join me for some herbal tea, it’s great for the nerves,” Gluake said. “Eh I might, it’s an obnoxious path down to you though,” Ciran said. Gluake was a sorcerer who had been around for several centuries. He was the sorcerer for the House of Rhalir when it was decided to build the city of Agregra. Gluake used a High Magic spell to bind himself to the city. Because of this his body can never leave the city, which is not that bad a situation for a sorcerer since his spirit can go nearly anywhere. Also, because of this, the walls of Agregra were impervious to magic of nearly any kind. Only a few spells could do damage, and nothing that Zolan’s mages could come up with would be able to dent the walls. It was this reason that Agregra was able to ward off the initial attacks from the House of Zolan. Ciran unstrung his bow as he walked down the steps of the tower, into the outer rim of the city. Agregra had two walls, separated by a span of about fifty feet. This was meant as a second defense to hold themselves from attacks. They had had little need for it since this was one of the first sieges the city had ever seen. Most attacks met with the magically enforced walls and then would fall back and not try again. Lord Avoil had brought with him siege equipment and a large enough army to surround the city and blockade it, and that is why the citizens where a little worried. Ciran knew better then that. Agregra had one of the most well trained home guard of all the four kingdoms, and it was because of that fact that the city had remained unharassed. Ciran was arrogant, and he knew that, but that was only because he was one among the more elite of the home guard. He was a captain. As he wandered through the city streets he let his mind drift over the siege. The siege had been going on for about a month now, yet no demands came down from the House of Zolan. There had been a lot of rumor going around about the fact that Lord Avoil wanted something that Lord Phaen possessed, but Ciran could not, for the life of him, figure out what that was. Ciran arrived at the barracks near the center of the city and slipped his way in. Being of slender build came in handy since the hallways of the barracks where, for some reason, quite narrow. Ciran slipped through the barracks to a small cul-de-sac with four doors. Ciran waltzed over to one of them and pounded hard on the door. He leaned against it to try and hear anything. After he heard nothing he pounded again, harder. “I’m up…I’m up,” came a lazy reply. Ciran heard a thump and then some footsteps. Ciran figured that the fool had overslept. * * * Kisean opened the door a crack to see Ciran’s glittering smile. Kisean had been right, he did oversleep. Ciran was far from the first thing Kisean wanted to see when he woke up, though. “Good morning, Sunshine,” Ciran said. Kisean opened his door all the way, allowing the one hallway torch to shine into his room, illuminating the mess that was his living quarters. “How late am I?” Kisean asked after a yawn. “Not too bad, the usual, really,” Ciran replied. “Anything interesting happen?” Kisean asked, reaching for a tunic and pulling it over his head and on. He ran his fingers through his hair until he had some semblance of organized chaos. “You ever take those things off?” Ciran asked, pointing to Kisean’s arms. Kisean wore his treasured heirlooms: a pair of steel bracers, one etched with a roaring lion and the other etched with a flying hawk. They were some of the last pieces of armor forged by his father, the great blacksmith Naesik. Kisean’s father had been an amazing blacksmith, but a lazy individual which could be seen by his choice of his son’s name. The father’s name spelled backwards was not very original. But as far as Kisean was concerned, it was the only thing not original about his father. “No,” Kisean said, striking them together and creating a spark of red magic. One bracer granted Kisean amazing speed, the other, amazing strength. A father’s legacy to his son. Protect the city. That was Kisean’s motto in life. “Meh, I can understand why,” Ciran shrugged. Kisean and Ciran had been friends for many years, and Kisean had grown accustomed to the archer’s sometimes-strange sense of humor. “And yes something interesting did happen. One of Lord Avoil’s men returned with some large, scary looking man. They went immediately into Avoil’s tent and then a little bit later that female paladin, the one that we see from time to time, with the blue armor, she came storming out of the tent. She cut a path straight to her tent. You might want to keep your eyes open for a possible attack soon.” Kisean stretched his arms up. “You’re the one with the amazing vision, though,” Kisean said with a grin. Ciran rolled his eyes. Kisean went to a small table by his bed and picked up a metal clip and attached it to his ear. The moment he put it on it glowed red and Gluake’s voice sounded in his ear. “You don’t take off the bracers but you take off our main communication device,” Gluake chided him. Ciran’s ear clip flashed red, which meant that Ciran heard Gluake’s comment as well. The clips where individual contact methods between the users and Gluake. They were limited to the four captains, Lord Phaen and his main advisor Ort. Fortunately, everyone could not hear everyone else, so it was somewhat private. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kisean said. He reached over and took his halberd off the wall. Kisean’s halberd was specially made by his father when the blacksmith made the bracers. The handle was built tough and reinforced with magic to make it not break whenever Kisean would use his full strength and speed. The blade came out of the side at the top of the halberd and went out a hand length to the side. The blade was about a foot and a half long and always razor sharp. It felt good to have his hands on the weapon. “I’m going to go have some tea with Gluake and then get some sleep, try not to sound any alarms when I’m sleeping, I need my rest.” Ciran grinned at his friend. “I’ll make sure to wake you at least twice,” Kisean said putting the end of the halberd onto the ground. Ciran stepped aside so Kisean could walk out. Kisean used the halberd like a walking stick and trekked his way down the hallway. Ciran gave him a wave and then went about into his own room next door to where Kisean lived. Kisean stepped out onto the street and inhaled deeply, taking in the night air. It smelled good tonight. Kisean was also eager to get to the outer walls to see the person that Ciran had seen. He was not in his own thoughts enough to miss hearing a scream from an alleyway a little ways down. Kisean immediately broke into a superhuman run and made it to the alleyway in no time. When he came into view he saw a woman being held down by two poorly dressed men. One of them had a knife to the woman’s throat and looked like he was teasing her with it. Kisean went for the immediate threat and spun his halberd in an upward arc, deftly cutting the top of the hand of the man with the knife. The strike caused the would-be rapist to drop his knife and flinch back, covering the wound with his other hand. Kisean did not miss his chance and brought the other end of the halberd’s handle up under the wounded man’s chin. The blow knocked him up and back, right into the wall of a building. The other man had the chance to react but he spent that time gawking instead. That was his unfortunate mistake as Kisean slipped his halberd into one hand and slammed his other fist into the man, crushing his nose and knocking him straight out. Kisean twirled his halberd and slammed the bottom end against the cobblestone tiles with a resounding thud. He looked down at the woman. “Are you alright?” he asked, reaching his free hand down to help her up. The shocked woman came out of her trace and took Kisean’s hand, using him to stand up. She immediately hugged him. “Thank you, oh thank you!” she said on the verge of tears. Kisean felt a little awkward all of a sudden as this woman hugged him tightly. He at first did not know where to put his hands, and then resolved to pat her on the back with his free hand. “Uh, there there,” he said, saying the only thing he could think of at that moment. A few seconds later Kisean heard the sound of running footsteps from behind him. He clenched his halberd and spun himself and the woman around so he could face this newcomer. He was relived to see one of his own men suddenly run around the corner into the alleyway. “Polran!” Kisean said, recognizing one of the night watchmen. “Good timing.” “Captain Kisean!” Polran said, skidding to a stop and saluting. “I heard a scream over here and…” “It’s alright,” Kisean said. “I took care of it.” Kisean removed the woman’s arms from his body. She looked up at him sharply and Kisean smiled back down on her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Polran here will walk you home while I take care of these two men.” With that he literally shoved the woman into Polran, who was instantly wrapped in a tight hug. Polran gave Kisean a look and then started moving away with the woman, asking her where she lived. Kisean turned back to the alleyway. “I’ll be a little bit late, Gluake,” Kisean said. “I figured,” Gluake’s voice said back. Kisean kneeled down and inspected the two bodies. Both were still alive, but with broken bones. Kisean sighed. He knew that these two where professional cutthroats, he had seen them before, but he was positive they where not on the job here tonight. Kisean grabbed one of the men by the neck and tossed him over his shoulder with no trouble. He swapped his halberd to his other hand and grabbed the other man by the collar of his tunic. He then set off for Blackheart Tavern. The tavern was not that far away, set in the seedy part of town, equal distance from the walls and the palace. Kisean was treated to a couple looks of hatred on his way there. Most denizens of this part of the city loathed the home guard. Kisean they were a little more open to then the others, but not by much. While they might not like Kisean, none were stupid enough to attack him. Kisean kicked the door to the tavern open, and it swung open with a loud bang. He stepped in, bumping one of the unconscious men’s head on the doorframe. All eyes in the tavern where on him when he stepped through the doorway. Kisean did not care. He quite calmly walked across the tavern to a door near the back. There was a man leaning against the door, his eyes shrewdly watching as Kisean. “Move,” Kisean ordered the man when he reached the doorway. The man stared defiantly back at Kisean. “Move yourself, Captain,” the man said, putting an inflection on the title. He obviously did not give Kisean credit. Kisean thought that was a poor decision for some lackey to make. “I give you one more chance,” Kisean warned. The man snorted to himself but did not move. Kisean’s arm tensed up and suddenly the unconscious man he was dragging by the collar flew into the man standing in front of the door. Kisean put enough force behind the throw to smash both men through the door. The door lead to a hallway and that hallway in turn lead to another door. The two bodies crashed through the short hallway and then went through the other door at the other end. The good part about this was that the bodies trigged off the various traps that where sent in the hallway. Kisean watched darts and arrows and knives fly from various holes in the walls. When the bodies landed, Kisean walked down the hallway, not worrying about the now defunct traps. He stepped through the door at the other end of the hall and was suddenly facing a pair of crossbows and the end of a rapier. He paid the weapons no heed but instead simply picked up the unconscious man he had walked into the tavern with. “Kisean, my dear friend,” said a sultry voice from behind the weapons. “Boys put your weapons down. Kisean is obviously not here for a fight. You’d be dead if he was.” The three men who had their weapons drawn reluctantly took a few steps back and lowered their weapons. When they moved Kisean was face to face with a stunningly gorgeous blonde who sat at a desk at the far end of the room. “Vasia,” Kisean said, nodding his head at the woman. “What can I do for you?” Vasia asked, spreading her arms wide. She wore a sly grin on her face. Kisean always knew that she was happy to see him when he showed up. Apparently the people she usually dealt with tended to be below an acceptable standard. Kisean always felt sorry for his friend. He thought Vasia deserved better then to be a queen among thieves. To each their own, she would often say. “I found some things that belong to you,” Kisean said, walking to her desk and plopping the two unconscious men who he had dragged with him on top. “You know why they would be raping some woman?” “Hm…” Vasia said, raising an eyebrow at Kisean. She looked over the two men, grabbing one of their heads and moving it around so she could get a clear look at his face. She sighed. “I’ll take care of this, Kisean,” Vasia said in a serious tone. Kisean felt reassured. Vasia was a dangerous foe when she became serious. “Well then if you excuse me, I’m off to my watch then.” Kisean turned to leave. “Oh, also,” Kisean said, stopping and glancing back. “Ciran said that some one new showed up just a little bit before dusk. Ask your people what they can find out for me.” Vasia nodded. “Aye, aye, Captain,” Vasia said, giving Kisean a wink. Kisean flashed a quick grin back and then left the way he came: through the now door less doorway. * * * Vasia was glad to see Kisean. It was a welcome break that had not happened in the past month. The siege had put everyone on edge, including all the criminals that were under Vasia’s control. Vasia turned to her loyal aide Kitup. The apprentice assassin was not much to look at but he was always there to help if the need presented itself. “Get me Allin,” Vasia said. Kitup nodded and vanished out one of the various trap doors that lead to Vasia’s office. Allin was the cutthroat leader and the men who were unconscious right now on Vasia’s desk were both under his command. Vasia turned to the other two men who were in the room with her. She snapped her fingers at the one she did not immediately recognize and pointed to the two men on her desk. He nodded and grabbed one of them, toting him off through another door. Vasia sighed and turned to the last man in the room. “They’re antsy, Vas,” said Litlo, the assassin leader. He was a short and thin man who tended to wear gray at any and every opportunity. Vasia had to admit that he looked good in it, for a man of his age. Litlo had been the assassin leader since Vasia’s mother was in command of the underside of Agregra. Vasia trusted Litlo more then any other of her advisors. Litlo hated to be a leader, and that made him the best leader possible. He rubbed the stubble on his chin with a thoughtful look on his face. “And I don’t blame them. I would be too if this was the first siege I was in.” “How long do sieges usually last?” Vasia asked as she walked over to a handle on the wall. Litlo paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Depends,” he replied. “We can hold out on our own for a couple years as a city for sure, but many sieges can last upwards of five to twenty.” Vasia was afraid of that. She wondered if she could keep the reins on the underground community for more then another five months. Vasia pulled on the handle and a part of the wall slide open. Vasia stepped through with Litlo a step behind her. The assassin moved silently. The room they walked into was a meeting place that Vasia used when she needed to talk to one of the leaders who reported to her. Right now Vasia was surprised to see Eilize sitting in one of the chairs around the marble table. She was staring thoughtfully into the fire. “Something I can help you with, Liz?” Vasia asked. Eilize turned and looked over Vasia and then Litlo. “It’s the beginning of the month, we need to go over the prices for my girls,” Eilize said. Eilize was the head of the brothels in town. She herself was a brothel girl, yet she had let the power and luxury of her position get to her since she was now ample enough for more then one customer. “Killer,” Eilize nodded her head to Litlo. “Whore,” Litlo responded with a polite nod of his head. Despite the derogatory remarks they were fair friends. “I have the numbers in my desk, one second, Liz,” Vasia said. She turned where she was and saw Allin standing behind her. He had the papers that Vasia was about to go get in his hand. “You summoned me, Lady Leather?” Allin asked in his deep voice. Vasia had gotten the nickname Lady Leather from her penchant for wearing leather. She had been a student of the Uri-Van, and a lesson she had learned was to be able to move freely at all times. Leather wrapped legs were never an obstruction. “I had,” Vasia said taking the papers from him. Allin was a large man, which often confused Vasia as to how he could move so quietly and quickly. Allin pulled out a chair and sat down. Litlo shrugged, mostly to himself and took a chair across from Allin. Vasia handed the papers to Eilize. “I assume you heard about my encounter with Kisean?” “That I did,” Allin said with a sigh. “And I can assure you that I did not condone that action.” Vasia knew he was telling the truth. Allin was a great cutthroat but a lousy liar. “I know you’re all antsy but you need to try and keep a better control over your cutthroats. I can’t have some of them going rouge on me.” “They’re usually not this bad,” Allin admitted. “I think it’s the fact that they can’t leave if they want to, it distorts the mind.” “Tell them to go to a brothel then,” Vasia said pointing her hand at Eilize. “I arranged a half price for anyone of the profession with Liz.” “That’s true,” Eilize said. “Though we have not seen too many more then the regulars of the underground. Unless I’m not being told about some of them.” “I’m sure you’ve been told about all of what’s happened, Liz,” Vasia told her. She turned back to the other two. “What we need to do, and you all need to help me with this, is we need to keep an eye over all of the underground. I don’t like this siege nor do I really care for the House of Rhalir but I still do not want my city taken over and looted unless we’re the ones doing the looting.” “Dear me,” Litlo said with a grin across his scraggly face. “You sound almost patriotic.” “No, I’m just selfish,” Vasia said with a wink. * * *

Guys who wrote Eva got busted for growing thier of pot in thier backyard. Explains a bit

You're a loveable drunk.....both ways

Was the personal narrative supposed to have one clear theme to it or was it just supposed to be "A day in the life of" sort of thing? It's good, don't get me wrong, but it has an abrupt jump from images of worrying and war to high school girls playing. It's an interesting transition, but quite abrupt. Aside from that the imagry is quite well put throughout the entire narrative.

::Orlan, awash in the gooey flood of torrential uh goo..... holds his work above water....er goo:: Save the manuscript! Save the manuscript!!!! EEK!

Hehe, I have a couple of people around me who I have given the story to read and I get pestered to tell them who hired Taleth. That's the usual end question they ask after reading it My favorite part is a little biased since I can clearly see it all in my head but things might have come out differently on paper. My favorite scene is when Mellara and Vestat clash in the tower. I've always been a sucker for epic magical battles. As to the stuff to improve - Lemme tell you how annoyed I get at myself with 'where' and were' It's actually a disfunction from typing so fast and the mind set. I know I do it but I always miss them That and working on my grammer is sooooooooo boring lol. And I'm not seeing the alignment between FF8 and the death scene....but then again it's been a while since I beat FF8...and my subconscious prolly thought that was an original idea because I had seen it somewhere else before lol. Other stuff: Severath I made up at the end of the story and I found I liked him so I was kinda mad I didn't think him up earlier. He is a neat character. Rilav and Ippy - Heehee...you have a point. With Dayane and Taleth...I always thought of the relationship more like a sibling relationship. Taleth's more like an older brother who kicks people on thier way. Besides, I don't think Taleth needs more nagging women in his life sicne he has one that goes with him everywhere w00t, thanks for the feedback Wyvie....it makes me want to go and finish the rest of Gaze from where I stopped last time lol.

A good poem. The beginings of the stanzas reminded me of "FOBulous" by Bao Phi. You might want to browse through his works, they're actually quite good. Most of his are from Slam competitions so they need to be heard to be really appreciated, but this one you can get as is.

Alrighty, It's done with....finally! So anywho, I'm happy it's done, feel free to read...critique....yell at, make fun of, enjoy, or anything else. I'm off to start a new story now

[Consolidation!] gwaihir1 Elder of Lists and Poetry Posts: 322 (11/21/02 11:35:48 am) Reply Final Death -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I find it interesting that you begin this story about assassins and rebellion with a homey tavern scene where a kindly bard is indulging kids with an exciting story. It's a story of a myth...that turns out to be true. That's not the only myth in the story that turns out that way either. The lady in white and Mellara are both figures that are only half believed by others, that seem creatures out of myth that come true. I also really like the way Taleth is drawn. He is not the typical assassin hero at all. He feels a need (It's unclear as of yet to me whether it's a need from the gods or an inner need...maybe the point is that it's both by now?) to help people. He uses his immortality interestingly. For someone with his powers he dies a lot too. However, since you told us all to comment, I get to make suggestions too. Frankly, there are parts of the story that feel like they're their to make the story longer. I just don't feel the connection between this Mind Wyrm and the rest of the story. Are you going to wrap this back to the rest? It strikes me that I really can't yet whether the mind wyrm part will feel tied in until it's done. Also, I wish we had more characterization of Mellara. She seems interesting, but we don't get as much of her body langauge and nature as we do of Talleth. Take my advice or ignore it, but either way know that I think this story is awesome. I enjoy it greatly.

It was not until a week later that Dayane was able to let her thoughts stray over Taleth again. Dayane had almost constantly been moving since she received the Crown of Life. She was trying to right what she saw as wrong, trying to make things better for everyone and just trying to learn how to be a queen. She was fortunate enough to be able to have Rysabella almost always by her side, helping her out when she needed it and telling her what she needed to know. Lately, though, she had been not giving Dayane as much advice, and she was leaving Dayane’s side more and more often. Dayane could feel the connection between her and Rysabella begin to wane. Dayane sighed and glanced out the window of her new bedroom, which also happened to be Rysabella’s old room. The sun peaked its way through a few clouds and shone down on the city of Aline. Dayane thought that the city looked beautiful like this. Dayane was going to make a difference with the power she had. She was going to make the entire city shine like this as long as she wore the Crown of Life. “It truly is beautiful,” Rysabella said. Dayane glanced to her side to see Rysabella standing next to her, looking out over the city. Rysabella had faded a little more with each passing day. Today she was barely there, and Dayane feared the former queen had less time then Dayane thought. Rysabella turned to Dayane and gave her a warm smile. “You’re fading,” Dayane said, her voice sad. Rysabella’s face lost her smile and she nodded solemnly. “You’re getting along famously on your own, Dayane,” Rysabella said. “You did amazing things in just a week and have started to turn things around for the four kingdoms. Plus, you’ve surrounded yourselves with some of the best advisors in the entire city.” Dayane let out a laugh. “I surrounded myself with my friends,” Dayane said. “My grandfather is my chief advisor, by the gods.” Rysabella’s smile came back. “And who better to advise you on the right path then your friends and family?” “Speaking of advisors,” Dayane said, her tone dropping. “People have been saying that I ordered the killings of Vestat’s inner circle of sorcerers. What am I going to do about that?” “I’d not worry about that. Vestat had more enemies then just you. I’m sure others see this opportunity as the best to get rid of Vestat’s entire legacy. Besides, would you rather have them behind your back plotting your every demise and trying to assassinate you? Sometimes people like that are easier to watch when they’re no longer moving around.” “Rysabella!” she gasped. Dayane was shocked to hear Rysabella say this. Rysabella waved her off. “Oh, Dayane,” Rysabella said letting go a pearl of a laugh. “Sometimes I wonder if you’ll survive as queen is you continue to act so naïve.” Dayane sighed. “Why did you want to keep Taleth’s name out of what happened?” Dayane asked suddenly. “I am only the queen because of his sacrifice.” Rysabella turned and looked back out the window. She still had a small smile across her face. “Would you agree that Taleth is a legend?” Rysabella asked. “What?” Dayane asked, perplexed at the question. “Would you agree that Taleth is a legend? “ Rysabella repeated. “It’s a simple question. Would you say that Taleth is a legend….like Ryaxlan? And Floriaye? And so many others who’s tales bards regale us with.” “I’d guess so,” Dayane said uncertain. “And if you told all about what happened? That Taleth saved you, saved the entire city, what do you think would happen to his legend?” “It would probably be changed, at least I think it would.” “Now think, would Taleth want that?” Rysabella turned back to Dayane. Dayane thought for a moment. Though Taleth was a murderer, a thief, an assassin, he was not a bad person. However, Taleth always thrived on his status. Dayane was sure that Taleth would have wanted to stay the legend he was. “I guess he wouldn’t,” Dayane said, turning back to look out the window. “I just wish I could have gotten another opportunity to thank him.” “Don’t worry, child,” Rysabella said. Dayane was amazed that she did not take any offense at being called “child” this time. “I’m sure he knows exactly how you feel. And I’m sure he’s proud of you…in his own twisted way,” Rysabella added with a smirk. Dayane could not help but smile at Rysabella. There was a polite knock at the door. “Enter,” Dayane called out, turning her head so she could see the door. The door opened and in stepped Severath, with Orthar and Promeid behind him. Dayane had placed Promeid in charge of the royal treasury as one of her first acts as queen. She knew no one better to deal with the money then Promeid. She had a deep respect for the merchant, plus she knew they would not go broke any time soon if he continually worried about the money. “Your Majesty,” Severath said. “You should not lean out the window like that, in plain view of anyone with a crossbow or a fireball.” “I have the Crown of Life, Severath” Dayane said. “I’m not afraid of a crossbow bolt or a fireball.” “Regardless, your protection is my solemn duty,” Severath said. His voice took on a tone that one might use with an errant daughter. “Get away from the window.” “You’re a bossy guard, Severath,” Dayane said. She still did as she was told. Orthar chuckled. “Did you need to see me to have jokes at my expense or was there a reason behind this?” “Of course, Daya…er Your Majesty,” Promeid spoke up. “It’s about the royal treasury.” “What about the royal treasury?” Dayane asked. “Apparently, there was a theft last night,” Promeid said, he was sweating and was obviously nervous about this. “A theft? But it’s magically sealed and it’s guarded as well.” “That’s true, but last night the guards say they where attacked and knocked out. The thief must have gotten in then.” “Well how bad is it?” Dayane demanded. “Well, considering how much gold we had in there….it’s amazingly not bad. Only a fraction of a fraction was stole. Which is why we’re confused.” “Promeid, I’m losing my patience,” Dayane said, her voice threatening. “How much was it?” “Only two hundred and fifty gold,” Promeid said. “Two fifty?” Dayane said. “Who would go through the trouble of breaking into the royal treasury and only taking two hundred and fifty gold?” Dayane realized it the instant she spoke. She turned her head to where Rysabella should have been. Rysabella was not there. “He’s alive…” Dayane whispered to herself. Orthar the other three in the room heard her words. “Who is, Your Majesty?” Severath asked. “Of course he is,” Rysabella said. Dayane looked beyond Promeid and Orthar and there, standing in her full regal clothing, was Rysabella. She was no longer fading away, nor was she by any means gone. To Dayane, she was as real as anyone else. “He’s immortal, Dayane. No memory stealing mirror is going to kill Taleth the Black.” “Memory stealing mirror?” Dayane said, confused. Severath slid his hand down to the hilt of his sword when Dayane spoke again. Dayane placed her hand over his, holding his hand. “I’m alright,” she said without looking at him. Her gaze was leveled at Rysabella. Orthar and Promeid turned to try and find what she was looking at, but they saw nothing. “To deceive your enemy, you first must deceive you allies,” Rysabella said. She snapped her fingers and the Crown of Life flared with light. Dayane’s vision was lost in the bright light. Suddenly, memories flooded into her. Dayane saw Rysabella holding Taleth’s head in her lap as Dayane and Mellara stepped form the room. The moment they left Taleth sat up and cracked his neck. “Mellara’s magic makes for a dramatic death,” he said to Rysabella with a rare smile. Rysabella’s tears stopped and she returned his smile with her own smirk. Dayane saw a flash and then another memory. Taleth stood at the back of the group of Crown Guard and raised his fist to the ceiling. “Long live the new Queen!” he cried out. Dayane’s vision went black again and then she saw Taleth slipping through the shadows and taking out Vestat’s followers. They all died before they knew what hit them. Everything went black once again and Dayane felt herself getting light headed. “Your Majesty!” she heard Severath cry out and felt herself being caught. She suddenly was back in her own room. Three worried faces looked down on her; Orthar had his hand on her wrist, checking her pulse. Dayane shook them off and sat herself up. “I’m all right,” Dayane said, waving off their hands. I just got a little dizzy. Severath said nothing but helped Dayane to her feet. “Promeid, don’t worry about the theft.” “Are you sure?” Promeid said. “I am,” Dayane said. She smiled to herself. “The money is in good hands.” * * * Taleth walked out the southern gate along side a wagon that was laden down with barrels and crates. The wagon made an obscene amount of noise as it clattered along the cobblestone. The guards at the gate gave the cart driver a nod but completely ignored Taleth. Taleth walked with the cart a little ways from the gate and then took the opposite fork in the road. Taleth walked for a little ways, stepping his way up to the top of a hill. “You take your sweet time,” Mellara said when he reached the top. Taleth looked over at the Royal Sorceress who sat on a large stone boulder on the side of the road. She wore a regal violet dress and had her favorite black cloak draped over her shoulders. She seemed completely unaffected by the heat. “I had to get my pay,” Taleth said. He leveled his gaze at Mellara. “What the hell do you want?” he asked bluntly. “Ever the charmer,” Mellara said. She tossed something to Taleth and the assassin caught it deftly with one hand. It was a platinum ring that had some magical runes etched over it. Taleth looked up at Mellara with a raised eyebrow. “I’m touched but I don’t think a marriage would work between us,” Taleth said in a dry, humorless voice. Mellara snorted. “I’d rather marry Death,” Mellara said. “That will glow if I ever find out something. Though I doubt I’ll have much time to do any research with Dayane to watch over.” “It’s the duty of the Royal Sorceress to attend to their ruler,” Taleth said. He slipped the ring into a pocket. “And I have a feeling I’ll need to do a lot of attending with that little girl,” Mellara said with a sigh. Taleth risked a little smirk. “She says to look out after Dayane. The kid is likely to get herself into trouble fairly quickly,” Taleth said. Mellara nodded with a smirk of her own. “I’ll see you again I’m sure, Taleth,” Mellara said. “I’ll hold my breath anxiously until then,” Taleth said, but Mellara had vanished. “I don’t remember telling you to tell Mellara that,” Rysabella said. Taleth was wondering when she would show back up. He turned and saw her walking up the hill towards him. “Hmm,” Taleth said. “I must have passed off my opinion as yours. What a shame.” Taleth turned and started walking down the road again. He could feel Rysabella following his steps. “Taleth the Black,” Rysabella said in an offhand voice. “Murderer, thief, liar…what can we expect for an encore?” Taleth snorted a laugh. “A walk south,” Taleth said, not looking back. “A vacation?” Rysabella questioned. “A break,” Taleth replied, still not looking back. He could still feel Rysabella’s enormous grin. “I guess that even evil needs a vacation now and then.” Taleth chose not to reply to that.

Techno Fantasy, someplace I refuse to dwele myself....for my Tencho lacks It makes a good read though. Anyway, I enjoyed it, it had alot of what the begining of a story should have, intrigue, foreshadowing, random killings and a clock that needs to be beat. That's how you get readers to come back for more, never solve every problem. Well, we know I like it, so I'll go through some things you could take into concideration, take no offense at this, I in no way insult your ability or style or hairdo, I'm mearly here to suggest, not to be thought of as the final law. First off, don't worry about the *****. BBSs fail to take into account tabs and auto centering like things like Word do. They work as they are You might want to put the "It had come" on it's own line, you do that with another part later and it adds to dramatic effect/affect [whichever one is right]. Began what? Maybe want to add in, are they coming at her, go away from her, screaming, doing the Liechtensteiner Polka? And now we get to your parts with the flashes. I love parts like this, I use them alot too, they're great for getting the idea of action through people. Plus I always have a Movie of my stories going through my mind when I write and read so I like shiny fast parts. You might want to expand on the parts just a bit, they're good enough to know that they're flashing by quickly, but you might want to add in colors, shapes and other modifiers. If she's having these images then who's to say she's not being able to drink in all of the aspects of it instantly. Plus there's always the show vs tell. Also, maybe you want to add another vision or two....but that's really an afterthought. Maybe she gets winged by it and THAT snaps her out of her mental triad. It's a little awkward. Too many things are happening at the same time for one sentance. Maybe something like "So saying, he took up another's sword and thrust it at her heart. Her vision blurred and the vision of the Mask filled her mind." Er something. I'm sure you can get something better. ::Shudder:: Anywho, as far as I know, Rapiers are stabby stabbys not slicey slicey, and as greusome as it is to get your head popped off by a dull sword ::shudder again:: Maybe decapitation is not the path with a rapier....ugh painful. But then again I was never much with rapiers....my landlord fences maybe I should ask him. The other thing is the last sentance "they turned" sounds like it's refering to her eyes. That's about it....the only thing I can think of is to describe the Mask a little more, I was having trouble getting a clear picture of it in the end. I like the rest of it though, good stuff, give more.

“I don’t see anything,” Rysabella said as she came back down the stairs. Taleth turned to Mellara. “I think we’re expected,” he said. Mellara nodded her agreement. “I’ll take point.” Taleth moved up the steps, moving past Rysabella. Mellara waved her staff after Taleth, indicating that Dayane should follow. Dayane did and Rysabella gave her a nod of support as she passed. Mellara took up the rear, waving a glowing staff over the floor as they went up. “I’ve run into nothing until the top,” Rysabella said. “We should be fine. Tell Mellara I could see no magic traps but she still might want to be cautious.” “Rysabella said she saw nothing magical but you should stay on guard,” Dayane said as Mellara caught up to her. The sorceress nodded. Taleth stood in the middle of the new floor, looking around with a long gaze. Dayane crept up the steps and then moved behind Taleth. Mellara followed. When Mellara’s staff came in contact with the floor it flashed white. “Get back!” Taleth shouted, backing himself into Dayane. Dayane was knocked back and stumbled through Rysabella and to Mellara. The sorceress was quick enough to catch Dayane. When Dayane steadied herself she saw a monstrous ogre bearing down on Taleth. The ogre stood a good eight feet tall, the top of its head a foot from the ceiling. It held a huge stone that was fashioned into a club. It took a swing at Taleth but the assassin proved to be more agile and leapt back in time to avoid being struck. “Vestat has obviously set up traps that respond to me,” Mellara said as she held Dayane steady herself. Taleth ducked under another swing. He rolled over to the side that was opposite the next set of stairs. “Obviously,” Taleth said under his breath yet loud enough to be heard. “Go for the Crown,” Taleth said dodging the ogre’s fist. “I’ll be up in a moment.” Taleth crouched down and drew out his sword. The next strike from the ogre came down hard overhead. Taleth met the strike with his hand and brushed it aside so that it struck the floor beside him. A moment later the ogre had a wound across one of its thighs. “Let’s get going,” Mellara said, urging Dayane forward. Dayane ran cross the floor with Mellara right behind her. The ogre turned once to try to go after the two women but Taleth got its attention with a strike across its knee. Dayane knew that Taleth would win but ogres had extremely thick skin so Taleth had his work cut out for him. Mellara and Dayane made it up to the next level when the tower shook. “He’ll be fine,” Mellara said. She held her staff out in front of her and it began to glow red. “If Vestat has spells set up to trigger off of me, we’ll need a shield. Stand behind me,” Mellara ordered Dayane. Dayane would have done that had she not be ordered to. Mellara began up the stairs once more, Dayane staying close behind her this time. The first time it happened Dayane was surprised. Mellara had put a shield around them both. The shield was apparently a bubble of protection that surrounded them on all sides. Dayane jumped when the first trap snapped off of the shield. The shield flared green for a moment and then vanished from sight once again. Mellara continually tapped her staff on every step before proceeding. This slowed their ascent but Dayane did not argue with the added precaution. At the top of the tower, Dayane once again stood before the doors to the room with the Crown of Life. This time, however, the doors were wide open and Dayane could see everything inside clearly. “I think this is a trap,” Mellara said. “Indeed you are right,” Vestat said, stepping out from nowhere. He stood next to the Crown of Life with his hands behind his back. He wore an overly arrogant look. Dayane thought that Vestat was sure he had already won. “You’re predictable, to say the least,” Mellara said to Vestat. Vestat arched his eyebrows at Mellara’s snide comment. “And you’re more predictable,” Vestat said. His body took on a yellow aura and Dayane felt herself shoved through the doorway. Mellara’s shield flared up brightly, illuminating everything in green. The sorceress moved with Dayane into the room, pushed along like there was a wind at their backs. Mellara swore loudly and spun, raising her staff and pointing it behind her. The moving stopped but by then they where over the threshold of the room. Mellara’s staff erupted in light as she lobbed a fireball through the door. It hit a shield before it got too far from her. “So,” Mellara said, turning back around and positioning herself between Dayane and Vestat. “You do know a bit of High Shielding. I am impressed. That also means that you’re not going to leave here alive, you know that don’t you?” Vestat laughed. “I’m not in the High Shield,” Vestat said. “And you can’t get out of the High Shield to hurt me, so what do I have to worry about?” “Mellara…” Dayane whispered softly. Mellara grabbed hold of her staff at the bottom and swung it at apparently nothing. Dayane jumped when the staff cracked against something in the air and Mellara’s shield came alive with lightning. “He’s trapped us in my own shield,” Mellara said to Dayane. “We’re stuck here until he dies or moves us. I had not expected this.” Dayane caught Rysabella out of the corner of her eye. The queen vanished an instant later. Dayane earnestly hoped that she was going to get Taleth. “And yet you should,” Vestat cried out, suddenly angry. “My whole life as a sorcerer was plagued by you. You were always there, one upping me. Regardless of the fact that I’m older, that I’m more powerful, they always went to you.” “It was your horrible treatment of others,” Mellara said standing her ground. Her voice suddenly took on a serious tone. “And you where never more powerful then me.” “QUIET!” Vestat roared, stretching a hand out at the two of them. The spell he launched slammed into the shield and was absorbed. “I was even passed up by Rysabella to be her Royal Sorcerer. She should have chosen me, but instead she chose a woman,” Vestat said with loathing and disgust. “Thank god that Taleth the Black killed her when he did. He got rid of you in an instant. You could not handle the fact that you had failed as a Royal Sorcerer and so you vanished. That was my most triumphant day.” “I suppose that you where the one to hire Taleth then?” Mellara said in a calm voice. Dayane noticed that her calmness was a façade since the sorceress’s knuckles where white as they gripped her staff. “Of course not,” Vestat said. “Petty killings are the tools of the ‘normal people.’ I was just going to wait you out…to endure longer then you and your little queen. Thanks to the now formerly immortal Taleth the Black,” Dayane’s heart lifted as she realized Vestat thought Taleth dead, “I did not have to wait as long as I thought.” Dayane felt Mellara’s tension flow away and her grip on her staff returned to normal. “You also talk too much,” Mellara said under her breath. Vestat still heard. “ENOUGH!” Vestat roared bringing his other hand around in front of him. In his hand he had what looked like a small hand held mirror. There seemed to be a cover over the actual mirror part. Vestat held it before him, facing it towards Mellara. The sorceress seemed uncaring. “You think a hand mirror will help you?” Mellara said. She stopped and thought a moment, letting a little smile creep across her face. “It might. You do look like a slob.” “Your petty jokes will not save you where you’re going,” Vestat said. With that, he reached up and unlatched the front of the mirror. Dayane watched as blue light was gathered to Vestat’s hands and then into the mirror. When Vestat opened the mirror, a bolt of blue light flew from the mirror right at Mellara, passing right through the shield. Dayane’s breath caught in her throat as it passed effortlessly through the shield. She only started breathing again when she realized that Taleth had stopped the bolt. The assassin stood right before Mellara, so close the sorceress could have kissed his back had she chose. The bolt struck Taleth square in his chest and then Taleth glowed blue for a moment, the glow spreading from where the bolt struck outwards around his body. “Impossible!” Vestat said at Taleth’s sudden appearance. The blue glow that surrounded Taleth peeled off him like the skin of a fruit, and returned to the mirror. The blue glow then dispersed itself throughout Vestat’s body. The sorcerer’s moment of shock and indignation was shook off and replaced by an enormous evil grin. “Even better!” Vestat yelled. A gush of wind originated from Vestat and Dayane was blown back. Taleth stood firm and he blocked Mellara from the wind. Rysabella appeared at Dayane’s side when she finally landed a moment later. “Are you alright?” Rysabella asked, kneeling down beside her. Mellara rushed over to Dayane and kneeled down on her other side. She set the end of her staff into the floor and started chanting in another tongue. “I’m alright,” Dayane said back, managing to sit herself up. She watched Taleth start walking towards Vestat. It appeared that Vestat dispelled the High Shield. The sorcerer looked as if he had no idea Taleth was a few steps away from him with his sword at the ready. A moment later Vestat’s eyes shot open and a spear of ice formed in front of him. It immediately flew through the air and pierced Taleth’s chest. To Dayane it felt like time stopped. Taleth stood there for a moment, the ice spear, clear in color, stuck out of both his front and back. The clear ice soon took on a red coloring as Taleth’s blood began to flow around it. The now-reddened spear shattered and Taleth fell to the ground. This whole scene played over in Dayane’s mind like a bad memory resurfacing. To Dayane it seemed as if Taleth had died, just as he almost had done the night before. “Taleth…” Dayane heard Rysabella whisper. Dayane was too shocked herself to turn and look at the queen, but an instant later Rysabella rushed over to Taleth. She kneeled by his side and tried to place her hands on him. They went straight through. Rysabella began moving her hands all over, trying to grab a hold on anything in Taleth. “I meant to take your powers with the Mirror of Uliane,” Vestat said to Mellara. “But I ended up stealing Taleth’s immortality in the process…This is perfect!” Vestat raised his hands to the ceiling and let out a wave of maniacal laughter. The winds suddenly picked up to an intense gale in the small room. Mellara let out a roar, yelling against the wind and slamming her staff into the ground. Another shield appeared around her and Dayane. Though it stopped a lot of the wind it failed to stop it all, and Dayane soon found herself grabbing hold of Mellara, trying to keep from being blown away. The shield flared now and then as bolts of unseen magical power struck. All the while Vestat’s maniacal laughter filled her ears. Dayane risked opening her eyes and saw Rysabella stumble to her feet. Though Dayane could not see her completely through the magicks that raged between them, somehow, she knew Rysabella was crying. The queen spread her arms out and let out a scream. Dayane felt Mellara flinch when she heard the scream. Dayane gasped. “Can you hear that?” Dayane yelled over the roar of the magic. Mellara gave no response. Dayane looked up at the sorceress and saw her staring wide-eyed at where Rysabella stood. Dayane turned and looked back at where Rysabella was and watched her turn and walk through the torrent of magic, unaffected. Rysabella’s body began to glow with each step she took. Dayane glanced up to watch Mellara’s gaze follow Rysabella. Dayane was sure of it, Mellara could see Rysabella. “What’s going on?!” Dayane yelled out. “No!” Vestat said. Suddenly everything stopped; everything became silent. Dayane watched as Vestat also was staring at Rysabella, abject horror dancing across his face. “You! You’re….What are you?!” Vestat seemed too jumbled to react properly. Rysabella ignored him and walked straight to the Crown of Life. Vestat composed himself too late. A whip of fire launched from his hands and struck out at Rysabella as the queen touched the Crown of Life. When she touched the crown, it vanished, appearing on her head as if it was anxious to be used again. Vestat’s whip of fire was dispersed before it even got close to Rysabella. The queen turned and faced Vestat. “For crimes against the four kingdoms and those who live in them,” Rysabella said, her voice boomed through the small room, magically amplified. “You receive the punishment of death.” “No!” Vestat roared. A thousand whips of flame appeared form his hand. Vestat brought the mirror up and held it in both of his hands, focusing the whips through that. The whips all flew toward Rysabella but they vanished in an instant when the Crown of Life glowed bright. Vestat stumbled backwards, stepping on his robes in the process. The sorcerer continued to throw fire, ice, and lightning at the queen. They all vanished before reaching her. “Your struggling makes your death all the more painful,” Rysabella said with a cold and hard voice. Dayane could see the path Rysabella’s tears had made down her face. Dayane had been right, Rysabella had been crying. Right now, however, Rysabella had no tears. To Dayane, Rysabella seemed like a mountain. Unmoving. Unwavering. Dayane could feel it within her own self: Rysabella was unbeatable. “Then I’ll take us all to the more painful,” Vestat yelled. He crossed his hands before him and placed them over his chest, chanting in a deep and dark language. “Stop him!” Mellara shouted out. “He’ll kill us all!” Rysabella needed no encouragement. With a sigh, she leveled her hand at the chanting sorcerer. “You reap what you sow,” Rysabella said. A wave of white light expanded from her hand and slammed into Vestat. Dayane blinked and then saw nothing. Vestat was gone. The Mirror of Uliane fell from where it had been. It was obliterated before it hit the ground from another wave of Rysabella’s hand. The room, which a moment ago had been alive with magical forces beyond all tell, was dead silent. Rysabella appeared normal again; she had no glow around her. The Crown of Life also stopped glowing; its normal metallic color reflected the dim light. Mellara stood herself up, leaning a little on her staff until she found her feet. Dayane could only stare wide-eyed in wonder at Rysabella. Mellara, however, was able to move. Mellara took one cautious step towards Rysabella. “Your Majesty?” Mellara asked, her voice choked. Rysabella turned to the sorceress and smiled softly, her own eyes beginning to water up. “Always so formal, Royal Sorceress,” Rysabella said, her voice as choked up as Mellara’s. Mellara instantly broke into a run and threw herself into Rysabella’s arm. Dayane’s heart wretched for a moment with the thought that maybe Rysabella was not physically there. Thankfully, Mellara hit the queen square on and the two women wrapped their arms around each other, each letting out cries of joy. Dayane could not make out any of the words the two women were saying to each other, but it still caused her eyes to tear up. As Dayane reached up to wipe away a tear, a horrid reality set in to her. “Taleth,” she whispered. She turned her gaze to the body that lay on the ground a little ways away from her. Dayane tried to rise once but failed and instead resolved to crawl her way over to Taleth. Dayane reached him quickly but she knew instantly there was nothing she could do. Taleth lay there unmoving, his eyes closed. The wound in his chest seemed to still have ice frozen over it so no blood flowed from his body. Dayane searched futilely for a pulse. It was no use, Taleth was gone. * * * Severath was irked by the orders to stop guarding the Crown of Life. He did not like the fact that they left the crown in the hands of Vestat. However, right now, he was infuriated because of Ippiden. Vestat obviously did not trust Severath and his guards to stay away from the tower, and as such sent Ippiden to watch over them. Severath sat with a fair amount of other soldiers in the mess hall, eating the late meal. Foewen sat across from Severath, absorbed in her food, and, Severath guessed, some self-pity. “Cheer up, Fen,” Severath said to her. “Wallowing in pity is not going to help us.” Foewen swallowed and sighed. “I know,” she said. “I’m just so irritated at that sorcerer!” “I know, I know,” Severath said. “But we can’t do anything with his dog Ippiden watching our every move.” Severath glanced over to Ippiden who sat on the opposite side of the hall, sipping from a glowing wine flute. The sorcerer lackey was trying to make it look like he was not watching Severath and Foewen but he was not very good at it. “I talked with Vaunad. He’s suffering from the same…tailing.” “What do we do about it?” “Right now all we can do-” Severath stopped suddenly as he watched Ippiden’s glass shatter. Ippiden nearly swooned but then regained his composure. “Vestat is dead…,” the sorcerer said quite loudly. It was obvious that he was in a state of shock. An instant later the sorcerer vanished form the hall. Severath reacted immediately and touched the ring on his right hand. He spoke an incantation and a loud snap echoed through the hall. Immediately his ring began to glow red. In response, one of Foewen’s earrings began to glow red. Severath knew that the other Crown Guard would also receive more signals like this. Foewen did not need anything more and the two of them jumped from their seats, knocking over the table. They bolted out the doors, running at full speed to the Crown of Life. * * * Rysabella sat with Taleth’s head in her lap. She had her hands on both sides of his head and they glowed a bright yellow color. Sweat was appearing on her forehead and each time the glow subsided, she began to breathe more heavily. Still nothing worked. “This goes beyond the power of the Crown of Life,” Rysabella said in a soft voice. Dayane could tell that she did not want to give up but the queen was obviously in pain, both physical and emotional. Mellara place her hand on the queen’s shoulder in sympathy. Rysabella looked up at her long time friend. “Can I have a few moments alone with him?” The queen was on the edge of tears. Mellara nodded and then started walking to the door. Dayane faltered for a moment, wanting to stay, but she too respected the queen’s request and followed Mellara out. “Is she real?” Dayane asked after a moment of silence. Her curiosity got the better of her. Mellara shook her head. “She’s visible and physically there but she’s not real. Her body is made up of magic right now: magic from me, from Vestat, from the Crown of Life and magic from all around us. She has a limited time here; the only thing that is sustaining her for this long is the Crown of Life. It wants her to stay so it is doing everything it can to keep her by flooding massive amounts of magic into her body. Given time, she will fade.” “What about Taleth,” Dayane asked, her voice choking up again. “I can do nothing for Taleth,” Mellara said, her voice oddly calm. Dayane was going to say something about that when she heard footsteps behind her. Both Mellara and she spun around in time to see a handful of the Crown Guard rush to the top of the stairs, lead by a scarred man who wielded a wicked-looking sword. An arms length from Mellara he stopped suddenly and the four guards behind him followed suit. “What right do you have to enter this place?” he said. Dayane could see he was tensed up and ready to strike. Mellara stood her ground. “More of a right then you could imagine,” Mellara said back, leveling her gaze at the Crown Guard. No one moved for a moment until three more Crown Guard arrived. One of them skidded to a stop when he caught sight of Mellara. “Lady Mellara!” he shouted. He instantly dropped to one knee. The lead Crown Guard looked down on the guard who was kneeling with a surprised look. “Mellara?” he asked. He turned back to Mellara. “The former Royal Sorceress, Mellara?” “And once again current Royal Sorceress!” Rysabella said as she stepped into the hallway. Dayane spun and saw the queen in her full glory. Rysabella wore a gown of impeccable royal blue. It fit her perfect frame snugly. Her long hair was intricately braded around her head. The Crown of Life glowed brightly across her forehead. She once again glowed with a bright aura. At the sight of the Crown of Life, the guards snapped to attention, readying their weapons. “No one can wear the Crown anymore,” the leader of the guard said. “It destroys anyone who tries.” “The Crown of Life recognizes its current bearer,” Rysabella said, touching her fingers to the crown. “Crown Guard! For centuries, you have guarded the crown and its bearers, the rulers of the four kingdoms. For the last few, you have merely been an honor guard for a piece of jewelry. No longer. From this day forth you are the true Royal Guard once more.” Rysabella turned to Dayane. “What?” Dayane asked. “I, Rysabella D’Tarrown, bearer of the Crown of Life, Keeper of the Kingdoms, hereby pass the crown to the new queen, Dayane Chromia!” Dayane’s eyes where filled with an intense light and she raised her hands to try to shield them. An instant later, she felt cold metal across her forehead and then magic began to flow through her. Her vision cleared and she saw everyone before her in a new light. Rysabella stood before her, but she had no crown on her head. She still glowed faintly. Dayane turned to the Crown Guard and Mellara. Mellara gave off a bright aura of white light. The guards each gave off auras of various colors and brightness. Dayane shook out her head and shut her eyes tight. When she opened them again things where back to normal. Everyone appeared as they did normally. She turned to Rysabella who wore a warm smile. “Why?” was all Dayane could seem to ask. Rysabella laughed loudly. “I’m not going to be around forever you know,” Rysabella replied. Dayane turned back to the Crown Guard. They stood hesitantly, all their eyes focused on her. Dayane felt out of place, as if she should not be here. Dayane wanted to say something but she did not know what. Fortunately, a guard in the back spoke up. “Long live the new Queen!” he shouted. The lead guard glanced back and then returned his gaze to Dayane. He stood tall and brought his fist to over his heart. “The Crown Guard…no...Royal Guard, pledge our allegiance to you and the Crown of Life. Long live Queen Dayane!” he shouted. The other guards saluted her much the same. Mellara gave Dayane a big smile. The smile faded as she turned to Rysabella. Dayane looked over and saw the Queen begin to fade, as if she was just an illusion in the morning sun. Rysabella kept her smile and then turned to the guards. “My last command,” Rysabella said. “You all are sworn to secrecy about what just occurred. You will tell no one, ever. You will protect the new queen with you lives.” Rysabella turned to Mellara. “I will be here for a bit longer, but only thanks to the Crown of Life. You need to stay here and watch out for her. She young and impressionable, you know,” Rysabella said with a laugh. Mellara wiped away a tear from her eye and nodded. Rysabella faded away to barely a ghost. Dayane could still make her out but she could also see right through her. Rysabella turned back to Dayane. “You can still see me but no one else can. I want you to go down with Mellara and the Royal Guard and begin your life as Queen. I will be there in a bit. I have some things that need to be finished up.” Dayane nodded solemnly. “Oh and one more thing,” Rysabella said. “Seal up the tower and tell no one of Taleth.” Again, Dayane nodded. “Your Majesty,” Mellara said. Dayane took a moment to realize that she was talking to her and not Rysabella. Dayane inhaled and took strength in the smile that Rysabella offered her. She turned to Mellara and took a step. Her first step as queen.

Taleth stalked silently over the castle wall and landed on the ground below. He moved swiftly over the ground, avoiding a few guards that were out patrolling. Taleth made his way to the tower he was in the previous night. He slipped into the tower and immediately ducked into a set of shadows that hung against the wall where the torches failed to illuminate. “Anyone there?” Taleth whispered to Rysabella. The queen, his ever companion, walked right out into the open and looked up a set of stairs and the put her head right through a door. Taleth had to admit that she was useful. “No, I’ll go up and see what I can find,” Rysabella said. She suddenly vanished. Taleth took the moment of silence and placed his hands and ear against the stone wall. He concentrated as he was taught so many years ago, trying to meld himself into the stone. He heard voices coming to him. He could make out five separate voices but could not make out what they where talking about. “Five guards…” Taleth said to himself. He smiled into the darkness. Rysabella’s voice sounded in the vaults of Taleth’s mind. “It’s clear up to the last few steps, there are five of them around a table on the other side of the room,” she said. Taleth stepped back into the light and was to the stairs in a flash, his boots making no noise on the floor. He moved up the steps silently, slowing down as he reached the top. The voices he heard through the stones now became very clear, and Taleth heard all the conversation. “Those are his orders,” a male voice said. Taleth recognized the voice immediately. This was Severath, the captain of the crown guard. He had a reputation as the strongest of the crown guard. Taleth was slightly disappointed that Severath was not on duty last night when the attack happened. A fight with the guard would be enjoyable. “That’s idiotic, and you know that, Severath,” a deep, booming voice said. Taleth peeked above the stairs and saw an opportunity to move in. Rysabella nodded at him and Taleth slipped up the stairs and over to a trio of kegs near the wall. Taleth froze and held himself completely still. “I know, Vaunad,” Severath replied. “But we follow strict rules, as we have for over a century. We have no choice but to obey the orders.” There were a couple grumbles. “It can’t be helped. Vestat brought the orders from the king; they’re sealed with the royal seal. Orders like this we can not ignore. We are to leave the tower unguarded immediately. We are not to stop any from entering. Those are the orders we were given, and we’re going to execute them flawlessly as we always do.” “What’s wrong, Foewen?” Taleth made out another male voice. There was a moment pause. “What?” said a female voice. Taleth heard the male voice who asked the question laugh. “You’ve been staring at the table for the past hour, is something wrong?” the male voice asked again. “It’s the resistance members who broke in here last night,” Foewen replied. “The one who beat us did not seem like some rag-tag farmer or merchant. He knew Uri-van moves. Everything I attacked him with he stopped, and with one hand, too!” “I heard a rumor that the resistance had hired Taleth the Black,” said the fifth voice that Taleth was waiting to hear. He glanced up at Rysabella who stood out in the open watching the conversation. She turned down to him and nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.” “And that’s why I said this is idiotic,” Vaunad said. “If that was Taleth the Black, what is going to stop him from coming back here and taking the crown?” “Vaunad,” Severath said. “If that was Taleth the Black, what is going to stop him at all? He defeated half a dozen crown guard, most at the same time. Do you think anything we have can stop him? He’s reputed to be immortal. And Foewen said that her dagger bounced off. I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” “But still…” Vaunad started. “I know, Van,” Severath stopped him. “I want to protect the crown as much as you do, but those are the orders. The king ordered Vestat to guard the crown for a while.” “That doesn’t ease my fears at all,” the fifth voice spoke up again. “That’s true,” Foewen said. “I’d trust Taleth the Black with the crown before I trust the Royal Sorcerer.” Taleth resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “You get hanged for talk like that,” Severath said sternly. “I agree with it, though. But that’s neither here nor there. Right now we are leaving. I know Van, but we have to leave. Remember, though, our loyalty is always, and forever, the Crown of Life and its bearer. Let Vestat guard it for a while. We will keep it safe our own way. Now let’s get out of here.” Taleth looked up at Rysabella and gave her a small smile. Rysabella did not seem to share his ease. She was still tense. Taleth knew she was only like this when she was uncertain of the outcome. After Taleth heard the last feet echo away on the stairs he stood up and walked around the kegs. “Relax,” Taleth told Rysabella. He did not expect her to acknowledge that request. True to form, she completely ignored him. Taleth expected nothing less from her right now. He looked around one last time and then went back down the stairs. He had some planning to finish. * * * Dayane found that she was lingering between fascination and fear with her sudden ability to see and talk with Rysabella. Mellara immediately began to use her as a mediator to talk with Rysabella. While she admitted to herself she learned a lot from serving as Rysabella’s voice, she quickly felt like she was just a spectator. Most of the things that Mellara asked were about where Taleth had been for the past eighty years, and if she had found out anything about their predicament. The only real problem came when Rysabella was pulled away by Taleth for some reason or another. Dayane had reasoned out that Rysabella could not go that far away from where Taleth was. Dayane assumed they had some sort of tether that attached them together. Otherwise she was sure that Rysabella would have long since left Taleth’s side. Dayane would have. The departure of Rysabella left Mellara and Dayane alone. Dayane looked over at the sorceress. The sorceress seemed very content with herself right now. Dayane chalked it up to the fact that she was just able to have nearly a complete conversation with Rysabella without trying to decipher Taleth’s dry wit. “Questions?” Mellara asked, snapping Dayane from her wonderings. Dayane met Mellara’s eyes and saw that the sorceress wore a mischievous smile. Dayane wondered if Mellara had been reading her mind. “I don’t do things like that,” Mellara said. Dayane stared wide-eyed at her. “You were probably just wondering if I was reading your thoughts.” “Y-Yes,” Dayane said. Mellara gave her a wink. “I’ve been alive a long time, Dayane,” she said. “I know when people are wondering if I’m prying through their thoughts. Plus I like to make people think that, it keeps them on their toes and off of mine. Besides, I should say that I can’t instead of don’t do thing like that. It’s a waste of energy when I can just ask.” Mellara gave her a smile. “Well, I do have some questions,” Dayane said, her mind wandering over the fact that they were planning on going after the crown tonight, one day after Taleth was nearly killed. “Why tonight?” “A valid question,” Mellara said. “And it has many valid answers as well. First off, they won’t be expecting this. For all we know Vestat might think that Taleth has indeed died. If that’s the case then we have the element of surprise as well on our side. Besides, Taleth has a plan that I agree will work.” “What’s the plan?” Dayane asked. “He’s going to distract Vestat long enough for one of us to get the crown. Vestat has a bit of power, but he doesn’t have enough to even hope to overcome the Crown of Life. It’s immensely powerful as a magical artifact but it’s impossible to control. Vestat would not know where to begin and would probably kill himself before he was able to begin to use the Crown of Life.” “Is it really that powerful? It’s hard to imagine it as more then an affectation.” “Oh indeed,” Mellara said standing. She began to pace as she talked. “The Crown of Life has been the pillar of the kings and queens for millennia. It was made by the first ruler of the united four kingdoms. As you know the world today is divided into four kingdoms and at the center of the kingdoms is Aline. The four kingdoms where first unified by the sorcerer Kor. He was the most powerful of all the sorcerers at that time, and many say that his power was more then the Mage Lord Ryaxlan. I assume you saw his power when you were in Taleth’s mind.” “How do you know that Taleth had met Ryaxlan?” Dayane interrupted. “Taleth had told me once before when I was considering going to ask the Mage Lord for advice,” Mellara told her. “Anyway, Kor united the fours kingdoms out of no other reason then to give him some peace and quiet. Kor lived between two of the kingdoms that warred with each other constantly. He was irritated that there where always troops marching around his tower and battles were waged right around him. If you’ve ever done magical study you’d know that silence is a major requirement for study.” “I don’t ever remember hearing about that reason,” Dayane admitted. “It’s not that one that’s told. I’m old enough that I can get that knowledge second hand by talking to sorcerers and sorceress that where alive back then.” “How old are you?” “Now, now,” Mellara said with a smile. “A lady never reveals her age. Now then, Kor unified the four kingdoms the only way he knew how: under an iron fist. He blasted his way from kingdom to kingdom, ordering the rulers to follow him or die where they stood. Fortunately none of them were stupid enough to resist Kor and soon they all followed him. Using his magic he started a city in the middle of the four kingdoms, Aline. From there, for ten years, he watched over the lands, making sure peace was maintained. A few fights sprung up here and there, but it was nothing major. Kor had succeeded in unifying the four kingdoms. “The problem came when Kor wanted to go back to his study. He did not want the kingdoms to descend back into war, but the only way to get the rulers to obey was through powerful magic. Kor refused to put another sorcerer or any other sort of magician on the throne. He knew their minds and he knew that their greed or sloth or old age would quickly get in the way of ruling. He knew that a normal mortal would have to rule. That is why he made the Crown of Life. None know what all went into the Crown; all they know is that the Crown of Life was extremely powerful. Then Kor picked some farmer from the outreaches of the kingdoms and appointed him his successor. Kor checked in on the new king but left most of it in his hands. Kind of frightening that the unity we see now is from an angry sorcerer who just wanted some quiet and a country bumpkin.” Dayane sat there, stunned. She had heard a completely different history then what Mellara just laid out before her. As far as she knew, not a soul in the resistance, nor probably the whole city knew this. Even Orthar did not know this, for it was he who told Dayane the stories behind how their unity was first achieved. Dayane felt like her reality was beginning to tear away. “While this may seem like a lot to digest,” Mellara began. “You have to remember that history is always made by one side of the story, and can rarely be trusted as utter truth. You yourself should know that the best. You’ve seen how Taleth the Black, the most heinous of criminals, from the inside. Things that seem to be one thing are quite often another. This goes for the Crown of Life. You see it as an affectation, something a rich person would wear to a summer ball, but in reality it’s a horrid weapon that people cannot even begin to fathom. The Crown of Life can only be passed down from one ruler to another. Whether it be from the last wish of a dying king or from a queen to her daughter, the crown can only be used if given of free will. Few have tried to steal it and they all cease to exist now. This is why the Crown of Life sits in that tower, unused and unclaimed. Only Rysabella can pass it to another, and now that she’s as she is, the Crown of Life is useless.” “Then why are we going after it?” Dayane asked getting confused as to the reasons behind everything they had done up to now. “For the very reason you say, while we can not use its power, we can use what it is instead.” “But-” “No more,” Mellara said. “I’m sure I’ve scared you enough as it is today. For now it is nearing night, and we need to be prepared. Off with you, I need some time to meditate and remember the many spells that I will need tonight. I may talk down Vestat and make fun of him, but he still is a powerful opponent. I think we will need most of my arsenal tonight.” Mellara sighed. “Though, I hope not though.” * * *

Orlan walks in to the Pen, passing by the Assembly Room, the Conservatory and even the Cabaret Room. His pace is constant as always. He losens the tie of his black suit. It had been a long day in court today. Then again, it was always a long day in court. Sometimes Orlan wondered why the Sexy Sexy Elder he was, was always the one getting sued when he held the patent on Sexyness©®™. People today just sue over anything. Orlan did stop when he reached Wyvern's office, to notice that the door was shut tight. While this was not unusual what was unusal was the paint that was strewn around on the ground, and the fact that there were splinters of wood in piles at the bottom of the door. "I need to stop going away for periods of time longer then a blink..." Orlan said to himself as he reached for he door handle to open it up. In an instant before he grabbed the handle the door burst into life. "STOLEN!!!" it wailed, crying tears of splinters that added to the already large piles. That answered that question for Orlan. He peered at the door. "What was stolen?" he asked. The door gave no response other then it's continued wailing. Orlan tried knocking on the door but it did not stop. He tried the handle only to find it locked. He even bashed himself against the door, only to find out that hurt....alot. "WYVERN!" Orlan yelled out, trying to find out if the Almost-Dragon was in his office....or alive for that matter. He got no response. He let the urge to torch the door pass. The last thing he needed was another bill for another magical door in the pen. He still thought that the magical door he busted down when Tzimfemme had put on her "Eau du Chocolate" scent was not his fault. It was a crime of passion....and chocolate. Orlan glanced around at the paint that was all over the hallway. "I'm going to take a stab in the dark and say Zool," Orlan said to noone in particular. The Elder of Bards started off towards Zool's picture. He arrived to find the picture empty. Well, as empty as it could be. Zool was nowhere to be seen, but in his place was the rubber chicken in a studding armani suit that look suspiciously as if it was stolen from Peredhil and then shrunk down to rubber chicken size. Orlan put his face on the picture and looked both ways into the picture to see if he could find anything but he saw nothing. "Zool," Orlan called into the picture. He waited a moment but heard nothing. "ZOOL!" Orlan yelled louder into the painting. Again nothing happened. Orlan pursed his lips for a moment and then reached out his hand. A moment later a bullhorn appeared in it. He put it too his lips and shouted. "ZOOL!" Orlan quickly turned down the settings a bit. "Crap on a crud..." He put the bullhorn back to his lips and his voice magnified itself into the painting. "Zool you good for nothing toupee wearing, chicken suiting old man....get yer butt out here and lemme know what happened over at Wyvern's office." Orlan put his ear against the painting again. This time he heard a soft click and some background noise. "I'm sorry....the Zool you reached is busy. If you would like to paint your name, number and purpose of exsistance and a 900 word essay on the disestablishment of modern social constructs of the fall of the banana from the rule of oranges, I'll get back to you as soon as possible....have a nice day!" "Crud," Orlan said. He sighed and turned around, looking for anything to tell him what was going on here. He looked around and saw an elf size body imprint in the side of a wall. He walked over to the imprint and squinted at it, trying to remember if that had always been there. He noticed some scribblings in chalk under where the left foot was imprinted. It read: "My apologies about this, I'm really very sorry. I will make sure to clean it up. Thank you and have a good day." For Orlan, this was as good as a "Peredhil wuz h3r3" glowing neon sign with sparklers and party poppers. Orlan glanced down and saw a little trace of paint that went down the wall and into some cracks at the bottom on the wall. Orlan sighed. He knew exactly where those cracks went, but if he wanted to find out what was going on here he'd have to brave it. So, taking a deep breath he phased himself down through the ground to Rosemary's "happy place." "Welcome, Orlan," Orlan stopped suddenly. To his recollection, this was the first time that Rosemary called him by his name. After further thinking, he wondered if this was the first time she called anyone by thier name. He was not going to let that scare him though (but it was kinda freaky). "Heya, Rose. Say, do you know what's going on around here?" Orlan asked. "The same thing that always is," Rosemary responded. "Those that should not be, but are like me wander where they should not be." Orlan felt relieved, somehow, that Rosemary was still the same Rosemary she always was (I think). "Uh...yeah....uhm....so you see anything lately?" Rosemary was in a trance when Orlan asked that question. He sighed and turned his thoughts back to what he could do. Looking at Rosemary he figured he could try something else. He reched into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a green pixy stick. Taking a deep breath he tore a little bit into one end of the pixy stick. A giant ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOM came from nowhere and smashed into Orlan, knocking him into the wall behind him. He suddenly thought he understood what might have hapened to Peredhil as he left a nice imprint into the wall. Minta grabbed the pixy stick and swallowed it whole, take a second to inhale some more air before she began jumping around the room. "Minta..." Orlan coughed out as he found his windpipe again. "Have you seen anything strange today?" Orlan soon realized that was the wrong question to ask. "Ya huh!" Minta said proundly as she bounced around, destroying most she touched. "I saw some skellies that where dancing around and then they ran around me and we did a little dance and then they went like 'Weee!' and I went back and said 'Yay!' and then all of a sudden some cooties came around so I had to take the things and WHAM WHAM them so I could make sure that they stayed away and then I said NO NO! And then..." "Minta!" Orlan said exasperated as he fell back to the ground. "You want another pixy stick?" Orlan pulled another out of his pocket and held it up. Minta instantly snatched this one up and took off from Rosemary's room. Orlan was quick enouh to grab a foot of hers and was dragged along with her. Orlan had enough experiance with Minta to know where she was headed. An instant later they where in Rydia's room (after a longerthenaninstant detour around most of the pen) and Orlan was barreled into Rydia, landing in a position that somehow made Orlan take all the brunt of impact while Rydia was left unscathed. "ugh.....'lo Rydia.." Orlan mumbled out in serious pain. "Oh, 'lo Orlan," Rydia called cheerfully back. "OOH! Shiny!" and instantly Rydia was enraptured by Orlan's power tie. She was rubbung her hand over it to see if she could up the shinyness of it. She then dragged him by his tie and brought it over to her other shelf of shinies and started comparing it to the others, seeing if it matched. "uh....Rydia....*URK* would you mind....*URK* telling me what's been going on here? *EEP* I've been sort of missing things lately *HWAUGH*" Orlan managed to get out. "Oh that.....Rune's not shiny enough....I sent her to Tzimfemme up in....OOH!" Rydia had apparently found a match. Orlan, ever the friggin genius, was prepared for meeting Rydia (and most others who are all enraptured with shinies) and took a little glowing shiny stone from his pocket and flicked it the other way. "LOOK! A SHINY!" Orlan yelled. Rydia dropped his tie and immediately leapt for the window, getting out before Rydia knew what happened. The one main problem was the sharp....sharp.....SHARP drop straight down. Orlan was fast enough to get his suit jacket off and his black wings erupted from his back. A few flaps later he was soaring though the air using his Tzim-dar ©®™ he found his obsession easily, louging around in the clouds. He touched down on solid cloud, brought his wings back in and readjusted his tie and jacket. He took a breath and then took a step. WHAM! Tzimfemme barrelled into him and knocked him down, rolling for a while. Orlan wondered if the theme today was assualt Orlan. But Tzimfemme was the last person he would chide about that. Tzimfemme was rubbing her cheek against his and purring like a kitten. "Uh...sweetie....uhm....what's going on with Rune?" To Orlan's surprise....( I mean total and utter surprise) Sossity answered that. "She 'pli'd for memb'sh'p" Sossity said. Orlan thought that made sense with that he's seen so far. If Minta was any gauge, little girls need ritlin like a fish needs water. "Ahh....that explains alot. Where did she run *URK*" Tzimfemme got up and strarted dragging Orlan over to a large fluffy patch of clouds. they quickly disappeared behind the clouds. (Somewhere Tyrion closed the curtains) Time Passes.... Time Passes s'more.... Sweet Jeebus, more time passes.... "Ya know I do have to get some things done," came Orlan's voice from the cloud. "Aww c'mon....thirty more times...." Tzimfemme offered. "Bleh....fine let's rock paper scissors it, alright?" "Fine," Tzimfemme said. "1, 2, 3!" They said in unison. A moment later Orlan walked from the cloud, fixing his tie and putting his suit back on. He turned to Sossity who was still milling about. "Where'd she go?" Sossity pointed down. "Thanks," Orlan said. He leapt off the edge of the clouds to hear Tzimfemme say to herself "Wait! There's no Electric Pickle in Rock Paper Scissors!" Orlan plummeted to the ground at full speeds aiming for the one place where he could land and not be injured. SPLAT! Orlan landed easily in the wiggly cabbage patch. He rolled off of the one that he landed on. "Thanks," Orlan said to the cabbage. "No problem," the cabbage said back. In that instant Orlan was almost barreled over by Gwaihir as he stormed by Orlan. Gwaihir looked far from happy. "Gwai what's wrong?" Orlan asked. "Look!" Gwai exclaimed, pointing to a part of his wiggly cabbage patch that was burned and charred and all together looking bad. Orlan made a face and turned back to Gwai. "Someone fried up some of my wiggly cabbage!" "That's not good," Orlan said, not really sure if that was a good thing or not. Gwai nodded vehemently and looked around. Sitting under a tree eating a bowl of soup was Gyrfalcon. "Gyr! Watch the patch, I'm going to go see if I can find out who fried my cabbages!" Gwai yelled. "Uh....sure..." Gyrfalcon replied. Gwaihir stormed off and then Orlan turned to Gyrfalcon who stared guiltily after him. "What'cha eating, Gyr?" Orlan asked. Gyrfalcon looked back up at him. "Wiggly Cabbage Soup," Gyrfalcon replied. Orlan sighed and put his head in his hands. He reminded himself he did not get paid enough for this job. Once he realized he did NOT get paid for this job he turned back to Gyrfalcon. "Rune come by here?" Orlan asked. Gyrfalcon pointed towards the Pen since his mouth was full of what Orlan hoped was cabbage leaves. Orlan gave a wave and trotted back to the Pen, nearly running square into the founder himself, Ozymandias. "Whaa!" Ozy yelled flailing his arms when Orlan came around the corner. Orlan stumbled and fell to the ground right on his butt. It smarted. "Ozy, Ozy, it's me," Orlan said. Ozy stopped flailing long enough to realize it was Orlan. "Oh, sorry...I thought you where the tax collector. They seem to avoid me when I play the insane old man," Ozy said. "Too true," Orlan said. "Say, you see Rune come by here today?" Ozy nodded. "Just a bit ago she came by," Ozy said. "Where'd she go then?" Orlan's response was a SQUEAK! that came from Ozy's shoulder. On the King of King's shoulders stood the Grim Squeaker shaking his scythe in the air as an attention getter. "Grim!" Orlan said. Orlan brought his hand around in front of Ozy and in the hand was a frosting and frothing mug of ale. The Grim Squeaker let out another squeak and leapt into the mug, making a perfect 10 dive. The Grim Squeaker then settled in and leaned against the side of the mug, floating in the beer. Orlan set down the mug "Where'd she go?" The Grim Squeaker pulled out a surprisingly dry post-it note from his tiny cloak and handed it over to Orlan. Orlan looked over the post-it note. "Jump coordinates?" a squeak came in reply. "Meh, It works. If I'm not back then send out the national guard to find Zaza Gabor." Orlan looked at the coordinates and then snapped his fingers. An instant later Orlan was being battered by a sandstorm in a desert. Orlan managed to get out his wallet and then felt his way through it, trying to find the ID he wanted. When he got it he held it up for the sandstorm to see and the wind stopped and the sand fell right where it was. Everything became calm again. Orlan looked at his "Priest to the Left Side of the Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen" ID. "This thing's paid for itself from the plague stopping and the free beer," Orlan said to himself. With the sandstorm done Orlan was able to see a corridor that lead down to a familiar door. Standing in front of this door was Rune, her hands on her little hips thinking hard. Orlan walked up beside her and looked at the door she was looking at. "Problems?" Orlan asked her. The little demoness squinted her eyes at the door. "The door to Mr. Wyvern's office dosen't want to open up, no matter what I try," she said, seemingly not surprised to see Orlan appear beside her. Orlan looked at the door and leaned his head to one side peering at it. He knew why she couldn't open it. "Rune, I'm sure, from the destruction I've seen today, that you've probably learned a great deal today, correct?" Rune nodded her head at Orlan. "Then what do you think you should do in this situation. The door you stand before is broken and it won't open for you no matter what you try to do." Rune pondered for a moment and then she looked like she got it. She turned to Orlan and grinned big. "Then I take the door I make!" Rune said, pointing right next to the door where another door suddenly appeared. This door was black and had child-like scribbles all over the place. "Why don't we both take the door that you made?" Orlan said with a smile. He offered his hand to Rune and the little demoness took it. They walked over to the door and Rune went to her tippy toes to open it up. The two stepped through the door. On the other side stood an eerily frightening sight. Each Elder and Ancient, the founder included, stood (er in Zool's case...portrait-ed) around a small table in the center of the room. Rune immediately felt embarassed. Everyone's eyes were on her and then all had such stern expressions on their faces. She looked up to Orlan who still held her hand. He was the only one with a smile on his face. He nodded his head at the table and started leading Rune there with his hand. Rune walked up to the table and on top of it was a small box. She looked back to Orlan who nodded again, his smile still apparent. Rune got up on her tippy toes and opened up the box, looking inside. Inside was a cupcake with pink frosting. In red lettering across the cupcake was the following: "ACCEPTED! And Happy Birthday! And Thanks for th¿ºÑå" The last couple letters were messed up. Rune looked suspiciously at Zool's portrait at saw that the rubber chicken had frosting on it's beak. Rune then noticed that all the elders were no longer staring down on her with stern looks. They were quite the opposite. Rune felt the love in the room. Love for her. Rune started sniffling when Peredhil stepped down to her and gave her a hug. "Consider this a thank you for the wonderful new Pen," Peredhil said to her. He gave her a wink. Rune started crying lightly in happiness. "Aww, someone's going to sleep well tonight," Ozy said. "And if not, Orlan can always tell her a bedtime story....he tells great bedtime stories," Gwaihir said. Rune looked from Gwai to Orlan. "Really?" she asked. Orlan was gone. All that was left was a note that read: "Gone to Cuba....read a book to get some sleep...One little sugar girl is all I can take... - Big O" [OOC: Welcome to the Pen, and Have a good Bday]

banana good.

"mmmmmm.....Tzimfemme....." Orlan manages to gargle out of his mouth before devouring the entire nummy. After licking his fingers clean he begins to wonder abou where this suddenly came from. He usually followed the policy of "Don't take candy from strangers" but today he found this one lying there, unattended. "I think Tzimfemme is starting to wear off on me....Speaking of my obsession..." Orlan turned his gaze back to a factory on the horizon that always was sprouting out clouds of chocolate smoke. It was always amuzing to go watch and giggle at the fat pigeons that would fly around like vultures after a festering corpse. "mmmmmm....festering corpse..." That one made him wonder if Minta was there. That's something he'd avoid. Too many nights he spent trying to get the ritlin into that girl's mouth. Sometimes it dosen't pay off.....though everyone he can scare her with cooties enough to get it in. Though she seems to be getting over Orlan and cooties. That's never a good sign. Must be one too many bedtime stories. "Oooh, I know....I wonder if she still makes those Krispy Krishes...thems be good." Orlan, the sexy sexy piece of elder that he was, pulled out his "Playing Strip Go for Fun and Profits (Read: Lovin')" book and started walking towards the factory while reading about Atari and Kama Sutra Page 76. "Mmmmmm.....sexy Go.....mmmmm Chocolate"

You ever done a description of Myth? She seems like a fun character, and a backstory is always a good idea Just add an extra space after each paragraph and it'd be easier on the eyes....at least in the BBS world.

“You were a bit harsh with her,” Rysabella said. Taleth stood on the top of a building, staring out into the night. He was in a foul mood and Rysabella, in all her royalness, was not helping it at all. “What did you expect?” he replied in a challenging tone. She wanted the argument, Taleth could plainly sense that. He knew her well enough to be able to pick out the subtleties in her voice and how she stood and acted. If she wanted a fight Taleth would give her one. “She went into your mind to help save you,” Rysabella said. “She risked herself so that you could live. And to show your appreciation you yell at her and probably give her a memory that will scar her for life.” Taleth laughed and turned to look at Rysabella. She stood as she always did. She wore the same clothes she always did. She wore her hair the same way she always did. She had the same queenly expression across her face she always had. She was the same, like a painting: never changing, never faltering, always the same. For over a hundred and fifty years she had been at his side. While Taleth openly wanted her out of his life, he often reminded himself of how lonely that would make him. Taleth did not like that prospect. “Forgive me if I sound ungrateful,” Taleth began, “But I am. You have no idea what it feels like to have other people filtering around in your mind, trying to find what they want. Regardless of her intentions, she was where she was not wanted.” He turned back and looked off into the distance. He really did not want to look at Rysabella’s face. “I’ve offered many times to share my memories with you,” Rysabella responded, walking around in front of him, forcing her into his field of vision. She walked right off the edge of the building and stood standing on nothing a few feet from Taleth. “And every time you’ve turned me down.” “Why would I want your memories for when I have more then enough of my own, Rysabella?” “So then I can better understand what you have to deal with,” Rysabella said with sincerity in her voice. Taleth looked her in the eyes and saw the same pain that he had seen for their entire coexistence. Taleth sighed. “I hate you,” Taleth said softly as he turned his back on her. Taleth could feel her warm smile and then saw her walking back around him to face him again. “I know,” Rysabella said in the same tone Taleth used. Her smile was a radiant as always. Taleth hated that too. Taleth hated her a lot, but mostly because she tended to be a voice of reason, and she pointed out the things Taleth tried desperately to ignore. “Fine, I’ll apologize,” Taleth said. “Stop pestering me about it, alright?” Rysabella nodded slightly. Taleth glanced behind him at the Tower he had fought his way to the top of earlier this night. There were more lights now and Taleth could pick out movement along the wall and the tower. His keen eyes saw the guards trying to sort out what happened and what to do now. “I have a plan that might work, though.” “Oh?” Rysabella responded. “With all the memory joyriding you two did it reminded me of something I had forgotten.” Taleth leapt off the edge of the building, landing easily four stories below. A drunk who sat against the side of the building gawked at Taleth when he landed. Taleth suppressed the automatic hand twitch to his sword hilt. He then wondered why he surpressed that. “What’s the plan then?” Rysabella asked. She stood beside him, in the same field of vision as the drunk. Taleth realized why he suppressed the instinct. This royal pain was a bad influence on him. “I want Mel around so I only have to explain it once,” Taleth said under his breath as he started walking away in the direction of the resistance’s headquarters. The trip back was short and eventless. Taleth walked down one of the hallways that lead to his room where Mellara and Dayane most likely still were. He picked up scattered conversations here and there as he walked by various doors. The mood was one of fear and disappointment at the night’s attack. Taleth wondered how much of that opinion that he agreed with. “…he meant none of it,” Taleth heard Mellara’s voice. “It was most likely out of shock of seeing you there.” “Yes, utter shock,” Rysabella said sarcastically. Taleth turned his head and caught her rolling her eyes. Taleth always hated the fact that whatever his heightened senses where exposed to, Rysabella could sense it as well. “He could have just asked me to leave,” Dayane said, her voice very quiet. Taleth heard Mellara patting the girl’s hands. “There, there,” Mellara said. “You’ll get over his attitude, I know I did.” “When do I get over yours?” Taleth said as he opened the door. Mellara sat in the same chair she sat in when Taleth woke up. Dayane was now sitting upright in a chair across from the sorceress. Dayane looked up at Taleth and he could plainly see the fear in her eyes. Taleth expected no less. “Never,” Mellara said. “I was wondering when you would return.” “I had some things to take care of,” Taleth said. “The guards are still running around without much direction.” “The elemental I summoned should have kept Vestat busy for several hours.” That made sense to Taleth since he was told that only an hour had passed when Dayane was under the spell. “You look better.” Taleth took one more look at Dayane and then turned back to Mellara. “I’ve always been a quick healer,” Taleth said. He took a few steps into the room and could feel that Rysabella did the same. “I need to speak with you in private for a bit; I have some things I need answered.” “Alright, I can manage that,” Mellara said. She turned to say something to Dayane but stopped when she saw her. “Taleth…” Rysabella said from behind him. Taleth turned and looked behind him at the queen. Rysabella was frozen like Mellara and her gaze was leveled at Dayane as well. Taleth turned and looked at Dayane. Dayane was staring right at Rysabella with her mouth agape. Taleth glanced from Dayane to Rysabella and then back again. Dayane reached out a shaking hand and pointed straight at Rysabella. Taleth spun to Mellara. “Is she pointing at who I think she is pointing at?” Mellara asked. Taleth nodded and then look back at Rysabella. “Dayane…can you see me?” Rysabella asked Dayane. Dayane nodded mutely. Rysabella turned to Taleth. “Taleth, what’s going on here?” Taleth wanted to answer, but he had none to give. * * * Dayane thought she was still dreaming. She thought that maybe she was still in Taleth’s mind, unable to get out. She hoped that was what was wrong. If that was not it, then she must have lost her own mind. She could see Rysabella standing before her as clear as day. Rysabella stared back at her. “Taleth, you are awake, correct?” Rysabella asked without taking her eyes off of Dayane. “I can assure you that I am,” Taleth said. “Mellara, have you any experience with this after effect of the spell?” “No,” Mellara said. “But then again I have only encountered your situation once. This very well could be the spells fault.” Mellara shrugged. Taleth turned and looked back at Dayane, his piercing eyes made her shiver. She had tried to avoid his gaze since he walked in but she had nowhere to run now. She was very scared. She had never seen Taleth react that way he had when she was in his mind, and now that she could see Rysabella she did not know what to expect at all. It shocked her then to heard Taleth start laughing. It was a laugh that Dayane heard from when Taleth was a child. It was a pure and genuine laugh. “What’s so funny?” Rysabella and Mellara said at the same time. Taleth did not respond. He just kept on laughing. Dayane began to feel less tense around Taleth. “Finally!” Taleth said with a sigh that seemed from relief. “You see?” Taleth said to Mellara. “I’m not insane, she really is there.” Mellara stared at him for a moment. Rysabella smiled and laughed to herself. Mellara shook her head and started laughing herself. Dayane felt fine in smiling, which she did, and it felt good. Taleth laughed again for a few moments and then shook off his laughter and smile and looked again at Dayane. “I apologize for the harsh attitude I took towards you earlier. I think that you will agree, though, that seeing another person in my head was not exactly something I wanted.” Dayane, surprisingly enough, kept her smile. “It’s alright, and I understand,” Dayane said. She saw Rysabella’s approving nod at Taleth behind his back. In an instant the old Taleth was back, his face a stone, his demeanor that of granite. “Good, now get out, I need to talk to Mellara,” he said with all the same curtness he normally had. Dayane got herself to her feet with little effort and headed toward the door. Rysabella stepped out of the way but gave a knowing wink as Dayane passed. The door shut on its own accord when Dayane stepped over the threshold. Dayane contemplated listening in, but she decided against that. She would hear this plan soon enough. * * * Vestat stormed into his divining room, slamming the door hard enough to shake the wall behind him. His clothes where wet water from the elemental he summoned and thus, he was unable to dry them magically. This only added to the foul mood he was in after having to deal with the elemental that witch Mellara summoned. It took several hours to deal with the elemental. Vestat had to grudgingly give in to the idea that the elemental Mellara had summoned was of a higher level that he could summon. When he finally admitted that defeat he felt fine in summoning another two to help him banish Mellara’s. In the end he was still mad. “Ignorant women!” he cried out as he took off his cloak and slammed it into the wall. It hit with a loud and wet slap and then fell to the ground. For some reason Vestat felt that it was mocking him and he gathered some of his power and launched a fireball. It struck the wall first and shook the room to its foundations before disintegrating the cloak. Vestat heard a thump from behind him and spun around in place, looking at the other wall. Sitting in a pile at the base of one of his bookshelves was a leather bound pack tied with several leather straps. Vestat let his eyes shift to the spectrum of magic and gazed again at the pack. It gave off a light red color, not a pure demonic red, but it had some demonic power. Vestat shifted back to the normal spectrum and walked over to the pack. He could not remember what was in the pack, but he had many magical items and remembering each and every one of them was a bother. Vestat called the pack to him and it floated up into his hands. He untied the straps and broke the magical lock. With a careful touch, he unwrapped the leather and stared curiously at the back of a hand held mirror. “What is this…” he asked out loud. He reached out and took the handle of the mirror. As he turned it over he noticed that the mirrored side was locked with a jewel-encrusted cover. Vestat undid the latch and cautiously opened the mirror. When he looked at the mirror he saw nothing, not even a reflection. An instant later it flared with light and Vestat felt power and memories flooding into him. He quickly slammed the mirror shut and took a breath to steady himself. “Of course,” Vestat said to himself. He began laughing out loud. He remembered what this was. More importantly, he realized how he could use it against Mellara. “I can’t believe I forgot about this. Oh yes…this is perfect. She will pay. She will pay over and over again.”

The person above me has been my obsession since.....ugh...a long long time ago

Dayane found it to be slightly unnerving to watch herself. Taleth stood on the top of a building not far from Milsan’s warehouse. His eyes where focused on the Dayane who was right now gearing herself up to make a jump off the side of a building. “At least she’s got some courage,” Taleth noted to Rysabella who stood next to him, watching the same thing. Dayane turned to the other Rysabella who had a small smile on her face as she scanned the rest of the memory. “Does he have little comments about everything? I don’t think he’s done anything beside critique me since he arrived in Anlise,” Dayane complained. Rysabella laughed. “That’s just how he is,” she replied. “You didn’t see how many months of constant nagging I had to go through to get him to agree to come here and help you.” “You agreed to this job, Taleth,” the other Rysabella said. Taleth glanced at her and then turned back to watch Dayane go over the edge. “I know,” Taleth said. From out of nowhere Ippiden appeared on the top of the roof where Dayane had been. The lesser sorcerer walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down. After a moment he vanished once again. “That one is none too bright.” Taleth jumped from the roof and landed hard on the ground below. He looked up and down the street for a moment and then started walking down one way. Taleth stood waiting on the corner of an intersection. After a while Dayane heard shouts and the sound of running. Taleth started walking towards where the warehouse was. “How far in advance does he plan these things?” Dayane asked Rysabella as she watched herself come running around the corner and smash into Taleth. From this angle it looked as bad as it felt when she did it the first time. Guards where right behind Dayane and went straight for Taleth. Dayane heard Taleth sigh and then kill the four guards as amazingly as he had the first time Dayane had seen it happen. “Hey wait!” cried out the other Dayane. Taleth stopped and turned slightly to Dayane. “Um…you know you just killed the town guard?” Taleth looked from the guards to Dayane again. “So?” Taleth replied. “Drama queen,” Rysabella said to Taleth. He ignored her. “So?” Dayane said. “So you better come with me, or else you’ll get tossed into a dungeon!” Taleth laughed. “Now that I hear myself say that,” Dayane said to Rysabella, “That sounds so utterly stupid.” Rysabella let go a pearly laugh. “Don’t worry,” Rysabella said as she watched Taleth walk away. “I’ve heard worse.” The other Rysabella moved beside the Dayane. She leaned down and whispered something into her ear. “I can pay you!” Dayane shouted to Taleth. Taleth stopped and turned around, staring Rysabella straight in the eye. “You still take pleasure in ruining my fun,” he said under his breath. He did not sound like he was upset, or that he was surprised. Rysabella smiled smugly back and held his gaze for a little longer. Taleth growled. “You can’t afford me, little girl.” “What do you know of how much money I have?” Dayane said back to him. Taleth sighed again. “Fine, I can improvise,” Taleth whispered at Rysabella before he turned and started walking away. Dayane shouted after him but he did nothing to respond to her. When he was out of her sight he took off at an amazing speed running though the streets. “I see your relationship improved from what it was,” Dayane commented to Rysabella. “I really didn’t have any choice,” Rysabella said. “It was either learn to live with Taleth or become miserable for all eternity. I chose the better one. When I finally gave up and came to an understanding with myself that this was Taleth’s body and that I had no right to use it as I wanted to we became more tolerable to each other. I’ve helped him out on many occasions, as long as I agreed with what he was doing. I won’t help if he’s doing something I don’t approve of, but I no longer actively try to get him to stop.” “I guess that’s good,” Dayane said. She did not feel like that though. “I know how you feel,” Rysabella said with a smile. “However, I have no choice. I’ve accepted the fact that I no longer exist in this world. I am dead to the world, regardless of how alive I am in Taleth’s head. But I still can get my will done sometimes. Taleth is not easily manipulated but I’ve done it a few times.” Rysabella cast Dayane an evil grin. Taleth arrived at the hearth of the Resistance and slipped past everyone. Orthar sat in a chair, toying with a bowl of stew before him, not eating any. Dayane made a mental note. “Who are…?” Orthar started. Taleth gave him a look that offered nothing but warning. Understanding slowly crossed Orthar’s face and he sat back down and continued toying with his stew. Taleth walked over to the far wall and broke a lightstone with his hand. Dayane waited and, just as before, the others arrived, filtering into the room. As before, Taleth made his dramatic appearance. “She’s Uri-Van,” Rysabella said to Taleth as Silest went after him. “I know,” Taleth replied back quietly. Once again Taleth amazed Dayane by dealing with Silest so effortlessly. “This is ridiculous,” Taleth whispered to himself. “They’re inexperienced children.” “You agreed to this Taleth,” Rysabella told him. Taleth growled in response. Dayane and he bartered over his price like last time. “I told you that you couldn’t afford me, little girl,” Taleth said as he turned and started walking away. Rysabella watched him take a few steps as Dayane continued shouting numbers at him. When he looked as if he was leaving Rysabella moved in front of him and slapped him. This time Dayane clearly heard the slap and saw Taleth flinch. Rysabella immediately grabbed her hand and rubbed it over and over again. “Did that hurt?” Dayane turned to her guide through these memories. “Extremely,” Rysabella responded. “I may be less then real outside of Taleth’s mind but I can still feel things. Though, the only time I can affect Taleth like that is when I’m caught up in a swirl of emotions. All those times have been without thinking, too. I can’t seem to recreate it on my own. This time I was actually afraid Taleth was really leaving.” “Two-fifty,” Taleth said after he turned back around. Things turned gray again and sped by once more. After a moment things stopped and Dayane and Rysabella stood in Taleth’s room. One lightstone illuminated a desk where Taleth was pouring over various sheets of paper. The memory Rysabella stood looking down on the same table with him. “We can hit them here, though the back,” Taleth said to her. He pointed out something to Rysabella. “Can they open the back?” Rysabella said back. Taleth stood up and stretched. Rysabella looked at him with concern. “Go take a walk, stop thinking about this so hard for a while. You may be immortal but everyone needs a break now and then.” “I’m fine, Your Majesty,” Taleth said. Rysabella laughed at him and Taleth gave her a quizzical look. “What?” “You called me ‘Your Majesty’ just now,” Rysabella said still smiling. Taleth looked at her for a moment and then sighed. “I think I will take a walk,” Taleth said. He picked up a small blanket and tossed it at Rysabella. It went right through her. “Put that on, it’s cold out tonight,” Taleth had a slight smirk on his face as he walked out the door. Once again time sped by. “He spent all night working out the details of that plan,” Rysabella explained to Dayane. “He’s put more work into your job then he has for the last twenty combined.” “I…I never knew,” Dayane started. “Very few do,” Rysabella said. The world stopped once again. Taleth slowly paced a path at the end of his bed. Sitting on his bed was Mellara idly fingering her staff. Rysabella stood in a chair opposite Mellara. “There are major faults with that plan,” Taleth said to Mellara. “What faults?” Mellara questioned back. “There are none,” Rysabella told Taleth. “There are,” Taleth insisted. “The Crown is not something to toy with. I should damn well know.” “What do you mean?” Rysabella asked. “I mean that thing is the reason I’m in my current predicament,” Taleth said to her. “That’s not been proved yet,” Rysabella noted. “The crown is NOT to be trusted,” Taleth said. “Is that what you think or is it what she thinks?” Mellara asked. “It’s what I think,” Taleth responded. “I’d rather just kill Vestat outright and go from there.” Mellara let out a short laugh. “Killing him will only throw everything into chaos,” Rysabella admonished the assassin. “You would solve everything by a murder,” Mellara said to Taleth. Dayane suddenly recognized this conversation as the one she eavesdropped on the previous day. At least, she hoped that it was still the previous day, she was not fully aware of how much time had passed outside. Mellara opened her hand and a glass appeared. Mellara took a drink. “Assassination,” Taleth corrected her. “Murder is what it’s called when you kill for the pleasure of it.” “God know the amount of pleasure you take in killing,” Rysabella said. She sounded completely earnest when she said that. “Taleth takes no pleasure in killing,” the other Rysabella said quietly to Dayane. “People assume he does simply because he can do it with caring.” The glass vanished from Mellara’s hand and set itself back down on a table on the other side of the room. “I don’t think people put as much difference between them as you do, Taleth,” Mellara said. Taleth glanced at Mellara and then locked eyes with Rysabella. “I hate being a go-between with you two,” Taleth whispered. “I know your aversion to it, Taleth. You haven’t exactly had the best experience with it, yet that’s not a viable reason to toss out a perfectly workable plan,” Mellara said. “I know, Mel. You have no idea how much I’ve heard about this plan ever since she caught wind of the resistance.” Taleth kept his eyes on Rysabella for a long moment before finally breaking the stare and sighing. “I should have cut that drunk’s throat before he blurted out about the resistance. Ignorance, not knowledge, is more often accompanied by bliss.” “You know I would have found out another way and you’d still end up here,” Rysabella said to him. “I know you better then that.” Taleth turned away from her and paced again, stopping after a few steps and turning to look at the door. “If you would just explain to me why you’re so against it, I’m sure we could figure out how to alleviate your fears.” Mellara said, a waiting expression on her face. “You’ve been trying the past hundred fifty years to whittle information about that night from me, Mel. One would expect you to understand that I won’t tell you who hired me.” Taleth said, not taking his eyes off of the door. “And for the next hundred fifty I will continue to ask you until I find out,” Mellara replied stubbornly. “I have a lot of patience, Taleth. I will find out who it was and they will pay for what they did.” Now it was Taleth’s turn to laugh. “I’d not laugh, she’s serious,” Rysabella said to Taleth. Taleth smiled at the queen. “She’s been rooting around for over one hundred and fifty years and she hasn’t been able to find out who it was, do you think you have any chance?” Taleth said. “Yes, I do,” Mellara said back. “Suit yourself, but by the time I tell you, I can assure you they’ll be dead or dying,” Taleth said. “I do what I’m paid because that’s why I’m paid, Mel. I have no reason to be loyal to anyone beyond the job.” Rysabella let out a short laugh this time. Taleth shot her a glare. “Then why are you doing this now? I’ve know you to ignore her for years on end,” Mellara asked. “Yes, Taleth, tell her,” Rysabella said to Taleth in a sweet voice. “Even evil needs a vacation now and then,” Taleth replied as he turned back to the door again. In a fluid move he drew his dagger and threw it at the door. Mellara’s staff glowed and Rysabella spun to her feet. The door exploded into splinters and the glow on Mellara’s staff brightened a moment. Things went gray again. “I don’t like this,” Rysabella said. “What?” Dayane asked, turning to her. “We’re pretty much out of any more memories,” Rysabella explained. “Yet there has been no sign of the Mind Wyrm.” Memories stopped and suddenly they where in the room with the Crown of Life. Taleth took a step into the room and suddenly it was alive with lightning. “Maybe it’s here?” Dayane suggested. Her eyes caught some kind of shadow appear before her and slam into Taleth. Taleth roared and the other Rysabella screamed and ran into Taleth vanishing when she hit him. “No,” Rysabella said as things went black. Dayane and Rysabella stood alone in a vast amount of nothingness. “The Mind Wyrm would want to stay as far away from its appearance as possible, so it would be hard to track. No, there had to have been something I missed.” “Missed? Like what?” Dayane asked. “The Mind Wyrm might try to fit itself into Taleth’s memories but it would not know how to exactly reenact the memory. I should have seen something out of order. Something strange.” Dayane stood shocked. “Like a creepy feeling?” Dayane asked. Rysabella was thinking to herself and did not fully hear her. “Like someone looked at you?” Rysabella looked up at Dayane. “When?” “The sorceress that caught him….Rechel I think her name was,” Dayane said. “What about it? Tell me! Quickly now!” Dayane stuttered for a moment with her words. “It was…when she was torturing him, I think….maybe, I saw her look at me, but when I looked back it was normal again.” Rysabella waved her hand and instantly memories buzzed by in every direction. After a moment she held up her hand and things stopped. Taleth was on his knees before Rechel and she was administering her daily punishment to him and enjoying it immensely. Rysabella slowly walked up to Rechel but the sorceress gave no indication she noticed. Then, when Rechel’s arm was coming down in a strike, Rysabella reach out and grabbed hold. Dayane was shocked to see that the queen caught the arm. Rechel flicked the whip back around her head and freed her arm from Rysabella. Rysabella ducked in time to avoid a whip to the side. Dayane was not that lucky. The whip struck her solidly and sent her rolling. To her surprise and dismay she found that the wall of the cell was now real. She crashed and then fell in a heap, moaning. “Dayane, quickly! Call Mellara!” Rysabella yelled at her as she dodged another whip strike. “Oh no you don’t,” Rechel said. She waved her hand at Dayane. Dayane felt a dizziness fall over her but she was able to shake it off. She looked up at Rechel. “Al’repilan’la’hiath!” Dayane shouted. Nothing came out of her mouth. Rysabella saw Dayane trying to yell but nothing coming out and quickly ran over to her. Rechel seemed content to let her do as she wanted. She stood there stroking the end of her painful cat-o-nine-tails. “Dayane?” Rysabella said to her. Dayane tried to say something but she was unable to make a sound. “The wizard who set me in that trap said I would find two minds to live in, he never said anything about a third. Though, I think I’ll just kill the girl. She’s too young to enjoy…unlike you,” Rechel said, licking her lips at Rysabella. “And that thing,” she indicated Taleth with the end of her whip. “Stay here,” Rysabella whispered to Dayane. The queen stood up and walked in front of Rechel. “My memories are beyond your reach, you parasite.” “Oh really,” Rechel said. Dayane blinked and Rechel was no longer there. Standing in her place was a large hideous looking insect. It had long claw like arms and a square shaped mouth that was open and dripping blue ooze. The mouth was lined with rows of sharp teeth. The thing truly looked like a nightmare come to life. It lumbered over to Rysabella on its four legs. Rysabella stood firm and regal, like the queen she was. The Mind Wyrm touched the end of one of its arms to Rysabella’s forehead and quickly pulled the thing back. “Bah!” the Mind Wyrm yelled. When the thing spoke it sounded directly into Dayane’s head. She could even begin to feel a horrid touch along her head. Memories she had forgotten peaked up now and then. Dayane felt violated. “You have no power over me, and never will,” Rysabella said. Her voice seemed to boom in Dayane’s head like the Mind Wyrm’s. The difference was that Rysabella’s voice echoed around the walls as well. It was real, and it was amazingly powerful. “Then you can die!” the Mind Wyrm cried out. It raised one of its razor sharp arms up and slammed it down upon Rysabella. It never reached her. The Mind Wyrm was blown back by some force, smashing into a wall on the other side of the two. Rysabella stood, unmoving. “Impossible!” Dayane heard in her head as the rubble shook and she saw the things head again. “You have no power in another’s mind!” “That she does not,” came a voice from behind Dayane. Dayane turned in time to see the first Taleth she met when she entered his mind. He wore the same dirty apron and seemed to be wiping the same flour off of his hands. “Nor does this young woman whose voice you’ve stolen.” “You?” Rysabella said to Taleth. Taleth smiled at her. “You have no power here either, figment,” the Mind Wyrm growled as it slowly got back to its feet. “You could not have possibly done that.” Taleth smiled. “No, I didn’t,” he said. “Like you said, I have no power here, though maybe you should tell him that.” Taleth pointed to the bloodied back of the Taleth who was, until a moment ago, being beaten by Rechel. Dayane could see the open wounds and the blood on his back as he was hunched over on his knees. “Impossible!” the Mind Wyrm roared. The other Taleth slowly got to his feet and then stood up straight, groaning in pain. “You cannot alter your own memories like this!” The Mind Wyrm suddenly sounded like a school child crying foul over a game. “I am not what you think I am,” the wounded Taleth whispered. He turned and looked at the Mind Wyrm. “And you are out of your element, here.” The Mind Wyrm stepped a few feet away from Taleth, only to stop suddenly. Dayane’s head exploded in a roar of pain as the Mind Wyrm howled. Dayane looked behind the Mind Wyrm and standing there with a dagger dug into the monster’s backside was the young lad that Dayane had seen in the first memory. “You do not belong here,” the boy Taleth said to the Mind Wyrm. The Mind Wyrm squealed and trying to reach a long arm around to strike at the boy. Before it even got close it was stopped. Appearing from nowhere was the Taleth that Dayane had hired. Dayane only saw the back of his clock and the side of his face but she knew him instantly. “Impossible!” the Mind Wyrm shouted. “Impossible! Impossible! Impossible!” Taleth reached out and grabbed hold of the Mind Wyrm right under its mouth. “Get out of my mind,” Taleth said without raising his voice. The Mind Wyrm struck at Taleth with it’s free arm to no avail. Things began shaking and then the Mind Wyrm began howling in pain. This time the howls came from its mouth and did not sound in the halls of Dayane’s head. The monster began to glow a white that continued to intensify in brightness. A loud bang was heard and the light vanished. Rechel struck Taleth on his back with her cat-o-nine-tails again as she had been when they first saw the memory. Rysabella stood looking at the Taleth that appeared last, for he still stood with his back to Dayane. Rysabella took a few tentative steps towards him. “You’re aliv-" Dayane began, her voice returned. “GET OUT!” Taleth roared as he turned onto her. Dayane was frozen in fear. She had never seen so much anger in anyone eyes until now. Taleth took two steps and was right before her. “But-" Dayane tried to start. “I SAID GET OUT!” Taleth roared again. He drew his sword in a fluid motion and raised it over his head. An instant later it was coming down at Dayane. She had no time to do anything but watch. She heard Taleth yell, “Al’repilan’la’hiath!” Everything went black. * * *