Travis

You know, this really appeals to me. When Qaela was training her daughter, I found that I had a blast. I thoroughly enjoyed working around, teaching, and actually letting things flow without necessarily jumping all over the place. She isn't really a fighter, at least not in the way the Sith need now. She is, however, a good support and teacher, ironically, a mother like figure (comes from her Tribal instinct to protect and instruct for the better of the Tribe instead of dominating and crushing threats or rivals). Plus, that I naturally have a teacher/trainer personality in real life made it quite enjoyable. Exodus, I know I have not been the most reliable of RP'ers here, but I would definitely like to have a discussion (Hangouts or whatnot) with you sometime over what your philosophy and thoughts are on this. If we can kinda feel out that Qaela's own philosophy and training could be of value here (I am thinking the Item Enchantment, Poison/Alchemy, and Elemental Manipulation, and possibly Philosophy if Exodus agrees with some of her views), I would be interested in having her as a teacher, if not helping serve as a Headmistress of the Academy so there is a permanent PC there protecting it.

Well, if it is written for a high school level, then that works fine. It is precisely what I would expect from a high school student to write and would make a good example for the teacher to provide so they could understand what was needed without overwhelming them with Top Seller material. It took me a bit to figure out the Red Riding Hood references, but once Mergatroyd encountered Mentat and started commenting on his appearance discrepancies, I got it. Once I went back, I began to see how the rest of the story fit in, too. I understand there are a lot of outside references, far more than I can list, but I was curious, was Mentat one of them? That is the same as a society/collective of sorts from the Dune universe; a bunch of guys who use logic over everything and shun emotion.

Sorry for the delay on this. As with Brendo, I like the professional academic writing style. It is reminiscent of the political pamphlets of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. It is an in character writing since the character assumes the readers know what he is talking about already. Such writing styles are not easy to keep on due to the need for balance between staying in character and informing the true audience of things they wouldn't possibly know. I wish it were longer, but as a forward (not a prologue, though, it is written as a forward), it works.

China has killed it. I have three chapters all started but unfinished. Every time I sit down to write, my creativity and will to write is gone in minutes. It is the darnest thing, but there is nothing I can do. Maybe when I return to America, things will be different. I do not plan on abandoning things, but it is definitely on a hiatus.

From what I can tell in the research I have done, those are exactly the tradeoffs. You don't have to deal with publishers taking their cut or demanding edits or rejecting you. However, you also don't have the publisher's reputation and distribution network, either. It is difficult and costly to get your books in bookstores and without a publisher, it is hard to actually make it big. A few have managed to do it, but most of the big names need the might and resources of a big publisher to get off the ground.

I haven't heard of it, but it is something I may need to get looking into soon.

Chapter 7 Blood and Tears War was never meant to be desirable. War is terror, pain, chaos, blood, and death. Any notion of glory is something painted with brushes dipped in blood and splattered on a canvas of lives forever cut short and dreams eternally darkened. Only fools and the dementedly evil look to war with eyes made bright by eagerness and longing. — Why We Fight, by Sage Wu, 2E 846 31 Miles East of Sua Opeganeat Angvardi Occupied Sua November 4 They rode for as long as they could, but in the end, they had to stop to tend to the wounded. By the dimming sun, Syler figured they had ridden for an hour before Sergeant Naedel brought his hasuan to a halt and signaled for the others to do the same. Syler wasn't sure that they weren't being followed, but if the sergeant thought it was safe, he wasn't going to argue. But then, he wasn't in any position to argue. He had been in command and lead them all into an ambush that they warned about. He had failed as a leader and deserved nothing. With barely enough thought to let Bronwyn down from behind him, Syler slid to the ground. The world seemed to be a haze. He heard voices, but didn't bother to make out the words. These people were following him, and he had led them into an ambush for no good reason. Several of them had died for that decision, including Growald. He had never liked the man, but that didn't mean he wanted him to die. He felt someone shake his calf and looked down to see Bronwyn gazing up at him with concern on her face. There was no condemnation there, only a knowing concern. "Syler, your men need you," was all she said. As she did, her other hand pointed around them to where the others were already off of their hasuan. Some of them were lying on the ground while others were pressing bloody rags to various parts of their bodies. Forcing his feelings aside, Syler slid off of Ment'fa'haehl and rushed over to where Baelkar was slumping in his saddle. The man had barely been able to stay awake and would certainly have fallen had Jutimaen not been behind him holding him up. Naedal had already arrived and helped him get the wounded man to the ground where a sallow looking Zago could perform his magic on the man. While he had known at Baelkar had been hit with an arrow, Syler had not realized the true extent of the man's injuries. He had been hit by no fewer than four arrows, two of them in his chest. It seemed that the shafts of three of them had been pulled out leaving red painted holes in his armor, but one was still sticking out of the back of his shoulder. Curiously, there wasn't much blood for such wounds. "How are you still alive?" he mumbled to himself as Zago worked on him. "Blood Amulet," the mage replied without stopping his work. "It stops the blood from flowing meaning he would not bleed to death. With one of those, the only way to kill a man is to directly pierce a vital organ or behead him. They are not very common, but I had not known he possessed one until the fight." "Sounds handy," replied Syler. He doubted that any magical amulet would work on him, but it would probably be a good idea to get one for Bronwyn. "Syler!" called Lamastus from a few yards away. Leaving Baelkar to be healed, Syler dashed over to where Lamastus, Jaquiil, and Bronwyn were hovering over an unconscious Vekla. Her armor was dirty and scratched, but he didn't see any blood or obvious wounds. When he first saw the sorceress on the ground, he had assumed that she was merely stunned unconscious. During the retreat, his wife had told him what happened, but he wasn't sure what the Pillars had done. "Can she be revived?" he asked. Jaquiil looked hesitantly at Bronwyn for a translation. When he heard it, he shook his head and shrugged helplessly. "He tried some potions," offered Lamastus. "They didn't seem to do anything. Whatever power hit her must have knocked her out for good." "It was something to do with magic, right?" asked Syler. It wasn't a very large stretch considering the entire place seemed to be full of it. "You think you can help against it like you were with me," Bronwyn speculated. Syler took the gauntlet off his left hand and knelt down to touch Vekla's forehead. When there was no immediate reaction, he heard Bronwyn let out a disappointed breath. "Be patient," he told her as he tried to remember what to do. What he did with Bronwyn was mostly a blur, something done out of a need to save her. He had some vague notion of what to do, but it was still just a blur. There was a name that came to mind. He remembered someone helping him, guiding him, and giving him the strength. He closed his eyes and thought back to those hazy images of his home and the stunningly beautiful woman who came to him there. "Suella," he whispered, "can you help me now? I do not know what to do." He listened carefully to every sound that came to his ears, hoping that he could discern a whisper that would guide him. It was said that prayer was for the Easterners and that it was used to talk to their gods. The Sei had never employed prayer before, instead believing that the Elements were impersonal, uncaring entities that only took notice of mortals when it suited them. Ever since his visions back in Thwrud where he saw Suella and Crusos, he knew that belief was not true, at least, not in his case. For whatever reason, the Elements thought him important so their eyes were likely on him at all times. "Suella, I need you now," he said quietly, "you helped me once before, do it again. Please." He waited again, but there was nothing. The only sound that came to his ears was that of the cold wind and the shuffling of hasuan and man around him. His shoulders sagged in defeat. He was on his own now, and that was a thought that terrified him more than it should have. He would have to do this all by himself. What was it that he had been doing when he used his abilities? Just touching Bronwyn had put the curse at bay, but he had needed Suella's help to fully remove it. That had been a deep, soul searing experience that he didn't think he could ever replicate again. But that wasn't the only time he had been using his skills. He hadn't even needed to do anything to prevent Vekla's fireball or Lord Saekoris' attacks from harming him. That had just happened without his needing to do anything. He was touching Vekla now, and nothing was happening. Obviously, something more was needed just as it had been needed to cure Bronwyn. He just didn't know what it was he needed to do. The only other time he had used his abilities was to redirect Lord Saekoris' magic back at him, but that was… Syler's eyes flew open. He might not be able to summon a fireball with his hands, but he had the ability to absorb someone else's fireball and send it back at them. With that realization came more memories of what he had been doing with Bronwyn while healing her. He had seen the curse afflicting his wife and had known how to unravel it. He didn't know how, but who truly knew how magic worked? With his hand still pressed against the sorceress' forehead, Slyer renewed his effort, now with a sense of purpose. He cast aside all other distractions, sensations, and thoughts to focus only on himself, Vekla, and any traces of magic. His hand began to tingle and, in his mind's eye, he could see the glowing effects of the Stone's magic shrouding her body like a spider's web. Without hesitation, he began to draw that magic into himself. His arm began to deaden, but he could see the web around Vekla begin to fall apart. Bit by bit, the glow faded around her until it disappeared entirely leaving a cold feeling in the center of his soul. His job wasn't finished, though. He could feel the magic freezing within him, threatening to overwhelm him under a sea of death. For a split second, he began to panic, but he knew that if he did, he would die. Clenching his teeth against the cold spreading throughout his chest, he recalled cherished memories of Bronwyn lying peacefully against his chest, her face illuminated by the firelight and framed by hair of the lightest shade of brown. It was the memories of their last night in Thwrud after she had watched him practicing in the armor he found in Lord Saekoris' armory. It was a time when they were in complete harmony; all of the problems and worries both bore had vanished. In this vision, Bronwyn was sleeping, oblivious to the rest of the world and utterly confident in the safety that her husband gave her. It was the happiest he had been in his life, even more than the first time they made love after he healed her. Her absolute trust in his ability to protect her filled a part of him that he never knew was empty. There was none of the hesitation and uncertainty that characterized their life in Kubei or their first weeks in Thwrud where he was moody and burdened with stress and worry over the fate of his sister. That night, he knew what he had to do and had the unconditional support of the woman whom he loved and who loved him. The cold that had earlier been threatening to overwhelm him began to subside from the inside outward. In its place, a warm glow filled him. As the cold left his body, his limbs grew numb and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Despite the warmth spreading from within his chest, Syler could not stop from shivering until the last of the cold had left his fingertips. Feeling Vekla stirring beneath his hand, Syler stood up. Without a word and without lifting his eyes from the ground, he walked away from the others. Dimly, he heard somebody call out his name, but he ignored it. They didn't need him now and it was best that they stop seeing him as their leader. He had done what he could to remedy the mistake he had made; now it was time to reconsider his plans about how to get Karusa back without getting anyone else killed. Finding a suitable stone, Syler sat down upon it and gazed out over the wilderness. Karusa was out there somewhere and he needed to find her. The Angvardi had forced her into a forced marriage with a Sua just as they had forced him into a marriage with a Kutii. It was possible that she had been given a kind husband. He dearly hoped that was the case, at least. If she had a loving husband, then he would invite him to come away with him. If Karusa loved this man, who was he to separate the two of them? Just because he was a Sua didn't necessarily mean that he would be a bad man. After all, Bronwyn was a Kutii and she was the most wonderful person he had ever met. Deep down inside, though, he feared that Karusa was not with a good man. He had seen many Sei men treat their Kutii wives poorly when he had been in Kubei. The Angvardi, to their credit, tried to protect the women, but it was hard to be everywhere all the time. He needed to know that Karusa was safe and he had to fulfill his promise to return to her. He had broken his oath once before; he would not do it again. But how was he going to get her back without more people dying? He had never asked the Krue to come, but they had done so. He was their leader and they were his responsibility. Due to his foolishness and insistence on tradition, he had led them into a trap. Several of the Krue had died before he had even truly gotten to know them. Growald was dead, too, and that shook him far more than he thought it would have. He had hated the disagreeable man at times, but that didn't mean that he wanted Growald to die. Now the man's blood was on his hands, especially since he died so that he and his wife could escape. Syler kicked a loose stone and watched it fall and roll down the side of the hill. A few other pebbles were knocked free and joined the first stone in its descent. By the time they came to a stop, there was a dozen or more pebbles sitting there in a small cloud of dust. Each of them had been perfectly content where they had been sitting for years before he kicked the first stone. Each of them now had their entire worlds changed forever because of that one simple action. It reminded him all too much at how something simple like leaving Kubei and getting his sister could quickly become something far larger. All he had wanted was to leave and find Karusa, but that had not happened. He fell in love with Bronwyn and then she was gone. He had to free her and dozens of men died. He had fled Kubei and was discovered by a unit of Angvardi. The Angvardi had chased them until encountering the Krue and dozens of men died. He had been taken to Lord Saekoris and he died by Syler's own hand the next day. Lord Yaegran had challenged his rule and also died. Others conspired against him so Vekla murdered them. Finally, just when his leg had healed and he was able to start after his sister, he led his men into an ambush and dozens of men died. How many lives was finding Karusa worth? Already, due to his drive to find her, perhaps hundreds of men had died and tens of thousands of lives had been altered forever. Who was he to cause so much death and suffering all for one woman? His hands clenched so tightly that he thought his nails would draw blood. Even if they did, he didn't care. He was tired of people dying for him and would put an end to it. From now on, it would be just him and Bronwyn. He would send the others home and protect them from the wave of destruction that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Syler's head snapped up at the sound of someone approaching. In a flash, his hand went to the hilt of his sword, but quickly relaxed when he saw that it was just his wife. She approached without a word, but the expression on her faced was anything but silent. With a sigh, he moved over a few inches to give her the room to sit next to him on the rock. For a time, they sat together in silence, but he knew that would not last forever. Sure enough, Bronwyn said, "Vekla is recovering, and the rest of the men will survive." "That is good," replied Syler noncommittally. It was good that they would live and that there would be less blood on his hands, but that did not truly concern him anymore. She noticed the lack of interest and asked, "What is wrong? And don't say 'nothing' because I know you well enough to see you are troubled." After a few moments to form the right words, Syler said, "Too many people are dying because of me. It has to stop. I cannot keep having all of these people suffering because of what I am doing or because I want to find my sister. I was the one who made an oath to protect her, not them. I should be the only one who suffers for it." Bronwyn's voice rose in indignation, "And what of me?" "You most of all," he replied. "You have suffered enough because of me." He lifted a hand to stop her protest. "I am not saying we should leave each other. We are bound together for the rest of our lives and I would have it no other way. However, I can minimize the number of people who suffer because of my actions. I can start by sending those Krue and Lamastus home. Enough of them have fallen already, no more need to join them." His words faded away into the darkening evening. It took nearly a minute before Bronwyn responded. When she spoke, her words were calm and carefully selected. "I will never leave you, Syler. Everything I have suffered has been worth it to be with you and I would suffer it all again if I had to." "I know," murmured Syler. He had known she felt this way, but that had only made things worse. Her suffering was because of him and that broke his heart. He could not block the image of her broken and abused body after rescuing her from the Temple tower. He did not understand why the Elements, the Spirits, or whatever Immortals watched over them would allow someone so kind and gentle to suffer so much for no fault of her own. Bronwyn continued in her calm, low voice, this time with a little more urgency. "Those men back there follow you because they want to, not because they had to. They fought to earn the right to join you. They knew the dangers and rode out anyway." "It doesn't matter." Syler's voice was quivering as all of the pent up feelings of helplessness, guilt, and remorse threatened to overcome him. "I will not let them die for me even if they want to. I am going to go back and tell them to go home. They have families of their own. How can I ever look at Karusa knowing that others lost someone from their family so that I could save her?" "Because you have to," replied Bronwyn quietly. "You have to make the hard decisions and fight the battles. You are the Master of Magic, the world needs you." "No," he snapped. "The world doesn't need me. All I do is get people killed. Hundreds have died because of me, how can I ever accept that?" He felt a hand on his shoulder and would have shrugged it off if he had the energy at this moment. He was tired, worn down by the blood he had shed and seen spilled. "How can I go on?" he asked. "I am a blacksmith. That is all I ever wanted to be, not a soldier and certainly not a leader. All I ever wanted was to find a woman to love and to live in peace." His vision blurred and he felt a cold tear trail down his cheek. "I never wanted to go to war, Bronwyn. I never wanted to be part of a battle or to become a leader and send men to their deaths. I never wanted to have a man's warm blood dripping though my fingers, or to hack a man's head off. The only thing I wanted to strike was hot steel or maybe, one day, some silver or gold." He flung his arms out emphatically and vigorously proclaimed, "I didn't want some damned Immortal to decide that I was some magical savior of mankind. I didn't want a demented clan of Krue to decide that I was their new leader. I didn't want to see my country destroyed and my friends and family torn apart. I didn't want to lead attacks on priests or charge into battle against Angvardi. I never wanted you or anyone else to get hurt. I didn't want any of this." His arms fell to his side and he let out a long, weary sigh as whatever energy his last outcry gave him faded into the cold night air. "I am tired, Bronwyn. I am so very tired of the fighting and the worry and the blood and the pain. Ever since I marched away from home to fight the Easterners, I have had little but suffering, grief, worry, and death haunting me at every step. I want it to go away. I want to go away with you and Karusa and just disappear into the mountains. I can build us a house and we can live there in peace. Nobody else needs to die." Bronwyn nodded to herself, stood up, and glared down at him. "Are you finished yet?" she said in a cold voice that made him blink in surprise as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "What?" "I said, 'are you finished yet?'" she repeated with equal harshness in her voice. "Are you finished feeling sorry for yourself? Are you finished wishing that what is wasn't? Are you ready to return to being a man instead of a crying boy?" Syler's mouth dropped. "Why are you—?" "Because the Syler I fell in love with was a man, not a boy," she interrupted harshly. "Because the Syler I saw break through my cell door was a man, and so was the Syler I saw face his Elements and save me from that curse. The Syler I saw stand up in the Inthadaeka against people who wanted him dead was not weak or hesitant, but a leader. The Syler I knew did what he had to in order to survive and to protect me. Are you ready to become that Syler?" "But why—" "Because it is your destiny, Syler," she answered. "You have no choice in the matter, not unless you want to curl up into a ball and die." "I led those men into a trap and some of them died for it," said Syler morosely. "Yes, you did," she retorted. "You made a mistake and men died. It is tragic, but it is what happens in war." "I don't want to be in a war," protested Syler. "That is unfortunate, my love, because we are in a war. It doesn't matter if you want to be in it or not. You cannot control what comes against you, only how you handle it. It is not fair, it is not right, but it is what is. You can either stand up against it like a man or cower and hide like a boy." Her voice softened slightly. "Do you think I wanted to be a caetos kvastal? Do you think I wanted to have horrible visions of terrible things I could not change? Do you think it was easy to have nightmares that none of my friends or family could understand? Do you think I wanted to be cut off from my tribe, left alone even in a crowd? I did not choose that to happen to me, but at least I know that I cannot run from it." She gently grasped his head in both of her hands and held his chin up. "These things that were done to us were cruel, I know. Our fate is not an easy one and we will suffer for it. I do not know what the future has in store for you, Syler, but I doubt that it will be enjoyable. No matter what, though, you must not turn against it. People have died around you and many more will die in the future and it will be because of you. I know that if you do not fight and if those people do not die, then all of us will die. You cannot change prophecy, Syler. Prophecy has stated that you are the one who will fight against the Coming Darkness and that without you, all of us will be consumed by it." A slight moan escaped Syler's lips. Before he could open his mouth to answer, Bronwyn shook his head. "Listen to me, Syler. Do you want me to die?" "What? Of course I don't!" he exclaimed. She released his head and took two steps back. "Then why do you want to give up? Is it because the road is hard, or because you are a coward?" "I am not a coward," protested Syler. "Then stop sitting here in the dark while crying your eyes out and feeling sorry for yourself. You are a strong man, Syler, I have seen it. You are having a hard time, I understand that. Unfortunately for you, neither of us can survive you breaking down. "Don't you start talking, let me finish. People know who you are now, Syler. There is no going back. No matter how far you run, people will find you. Do you think it is a coincidence that we met? Do you think that it is happenstance that you met Growald, Vekla, and Lord Saekoris? Those three were prophesied to meet you and help you. They did not need to seek you out: you found them even without meaning to. You could run to the ends of Teladia and they would still find you. Why? Because it is prophesied and you can't break prophecy." "You may be right," Syler begrudgingly admitted. "I have seen things that should not be possible for one of my position. I have a gift, but like all who can touch magic, they must learn and develop it. I have spoken to Vekla a little about this and she confirmed that my visions are far beyond where they should be. She doesn't know enough to tell me more, but that was enough to terrify me." Syler hadn't known that the two of them had talked about Bronwyn's seer abilities. He wondered what else the two of them had spoken of. Despite her seeming willingness to help him, he still didn't completely trust Vekla. At the least, she was willing to do things he didn't agree with as she showed by brutally murdering people who just might have been a threat to him. "I don't know anything about your visions." It wasn't very helpful, but that was all he could muster. "That isn't the point," she chastised. "The point is that things are happening that you cannot escape. It is not just anyone who can enter the Spirit's realm alone, yet you did it. You are special and, even though it is a cruel fate, you must face it. Be the man that I know you are and not a cowardly boy crying that life is unfair." "And what of the others? Their friends died for my mistake. What makes you think they will even want to follow me?" he asked, hoping that she didn't have an answer. Bronwyn let out a brief laugh and pointed behind him. "Look at them. Do they look angry?" Syler couldn't help himself but to turn around. When he did, he saw the glow of a small campfire with figures roaming about the clearing. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear the faint sounds of laughter. The wind shifted and his nose detected the scent of cooking meat. This surprised him because he had been expecting they would be quietly nursing their wounds or, at the least, cursing him and preparing to leave. "I don't understand," he whispered. "Of course you don't, and that is the problem." He turned and gave her a look of confusion. "What do you mean?" She crouched down in front of him and her voice softened. "They are Krue, Syler. They live to serve and fight. More importantly, they believe in you. They know the important part you will play in the future. They don't expect you to be perfect because you don't have to be. Nobody is perfect, nobody. They know you will make mistakes, but they believe you will be made stronger for it. They are willing to sacrifice themselves to your mistakes so that you can learn from them and keep their families and friends alive." She put her hand over his heart and whispered softly, "Syler, I believe in you. You are suffering now, I understand, but you must get through this. I cannot say that I know what you are feeling, but I do know that if you don't put it aside and accept your fate, all of us will die. I can't make the choice for you, but know that I stand with you whatever you decide, no matter how long or short that journey is." She kissed his cheek and added, "When you are ready, come back to the camp. Your men are strong, but they need to see you being strong with them." She left him there in the dark to wrestle with his choice. Syler sat there for a long time. He was tired of the fighting and he had no desire to lead anyone. He wanted only peace and safety for those he loved. He had no love of bloodshed and had no desire for power. Those things only caused problems and consumed people. They were a burden that he would rather do without. That could not change because that was who he was. But he also knew that sometimes, people had to do things they did not want to do. As much as he hated it, he knew deep down that he had no choice at all. No matter what he wanted, his fate was sealed and to violate it would bring about consequences that were too terrible to bear. His oaths to Crusos could not be broken. He wasn't sure what the Element would do, but he had no doubt that the Immortal could make life very miserable for him should he go back on his word. The vision of Bronwyn's battered body having her soul ripped out by Crusos still haunted him at night. His life was not his own. He had to do things that he did not want to do, and it only angered him. What had he done to deserve this curse? Whom had he offended among the Elements that warranted such ill fate? It was said that the Elements sought a balance between the deeds of Mortals and meted out punishment or blessings as it suited them. Where there was good, there also had to be evil. The rewards might present themselves instantly or generations in the future. Syler wondered what good and pure things his ancestors had done to warrant such horrible fate upon him. The truth was, if he could be honest with himself, that he was afraid of what the future may hold for him. A little less than six months ago, he was living peacefully in Master Fitno's house. He worked in the forge and knew everything about his life. There were no mysteries about the future, just iron and steel that needed working. All he had to do was what he was told to do and that mostly entailed working hard. It was the same thing every day and every week. He didn't need to worry about the future, only the present. Then war came, and all of that was destroyed. He had seen and done things that he could not ever have imagined seeing or doing six months ago. He had faced men who wanted to kill him. He had faced men whom he wanted to kill. He had seen brutality. He had committed brutality. He had done terrible things already, things that he could not undo. Worse than all that was the fact that he didn't know what else he would have to do. He didn't know what prophecy preordained for him. He didn't know how many more men he would have to see killed or how many more he would have to kill himself. He didn't know what sort of suffering he and those he loved would experience. He didn't know what was going to happen and that terrified him more than anything. Why should he hide here, alone and afraid? He had never shied away from his fear before. His father had always told him to face his fear and overcome it. He needed to accept the misfortunes fate had heaped upon him and make do with what he had. He needed to confront his fear and do what need to be done to ensure that his sister and wife were safe. Too many had died already for him to do anything else. Perhaps it was time to make sure those people didn't die for nothing. Sitting here pining about things that could not be was not going to help him. He needed to accept the misfortunes fate had heaped upon him and make do with what he had. Too many had died already for him not to do just that. Perhaps it was time to make sure those people didn't die for nothing. He stood up and shook the dirt off of his pants. The Elements be damned, the Angvardi be damned, and the Krue be damned; he wanted to be left alone! If they wanted to tangle with him, he would find some way to make sure that each suffered for destroying his life. When he got close to the camp, he made sure his head was held high and his gait steady. As Bronwyn said, they needed to see him being strong, not sulking. He had already done enough of that and it was time to get the job done. When he caught his wife's eyes, she gave him a small smile. The others reacted to him exactly as they had the previous nights as though nothing had happened. For that, he was grateful beyond words.

After a greatly long absence from writing, my muses visited me once more and I was able to work through another chapter. It is a short one, but it is finished at long last. This is actually an earlier chapter than what I posted before. In looking at things, I realized that I needed to get Alltis' storyline going and much of it takes place before Syler returns to Kruish territory. I had to give those things time to mature, so I needed to go back and move things around again. This was an interesting chapter because it was the first time I wrote from Alltis' perspective. Originally, she was going to be a minor character that just kinda was along for the ride. As I continued to write and thought about it more, I realized it would be great to have another leading female character. I have a few (Bronwyn, Vekla, and Raella) but I wanted more to offset the overwhelming number of men here. Alltis is going to have her own important and unique story to tell later on, but I needed to start it now. Unlike her husband, she is a strong woman and I wanted to give her a chance to shine. The next chapter (new Chapter 4) is going to show that more. I do hope that my muses stay with me long enough to get more chapters out and running, but I cannot promise that. China has a way of sapping away time and energy. ______________________________________ Chapter 3 A Storyteller, a Wife, and a Lord Why haven't the Krue ever marched on their neighbors? Few would question their ability to crush any army the Sei or Kutii could raise against them, but yet they do not invade. It is not known exactly why the Krue have not expanded their control over others. We can only be grateful that they have not. — Wars of the West, by Magister Tind Keldin Thwrud Subeleth November 1 Life in a Kruish city was rarely a dull affair. The Krue, despite being stoic and solemn on the battlefield, were actually a boisterous and good natured people. They had major celebrations almost every week that usually involved friendly contests, hasuan riding, and great volumes of alcohol drank in front of massive bonfires. Each week's celebrations honored something in Kruish culture that they revered or cherished. This week was storytelling, and if there was anything that Havert Jakaras loved more than avoiding work, it was avoiding work while listening to or telling stories. He had been so excited at the news that this week's celebration was focused on his favorite pass time that he had immediately demanded to be part of it. Alltis had known it was a bad idea to let her husband get so distracted and had tried to persuade him to focus more on his duties. Unfortunately for his wife, Havert was the Gaelkadrada of Thwrud and what the Gaelkadrada wanted, the Gaelkadrada got. Alltis didn't know what had possessed Syler Penion to name her husband as his regent, but she didn't count it among the man's best choices. She had a great deal of respect for Syler and how he was willing to sacrifice everything for his wife, but she didn't always agree with his approach to handling a situation. The man tended to let his emotions get the better of him. In anger, he made rash decisions that led to unnecessary conflict. Out of a sense of loyalty and friendship, he put his best friend into a position of leadership. As much as she loved Havert, she knew he was no ruler. He didn't take much seriously and abhorred actual work. "Politics," he had admitted one night, "is ta worst, most horrid sorta torture a man could suffer." That had been his belief even before he had been put in charge of an entire clan consisting of hundreds of thousands of people. Despite his failings as a leader and misgivings about politics, Havert was a loyal friend. When Syler had asked him to rule in his stead as Gaelkadrada, he had jumped at the chance to help his friend. The problem was that he really had no idea what he was getting himself into. If she had one thing going in her favor, it was that the Thwrudil hadn't had any idea, either. Alltis, having been of what amounted to a lesser noble’s house among the Kutii, had been taught how to behave among that class of people. She hadn’t been taught to lead or make the hard decisions, but she was an observant woman and had seen enough to at least have a basic idea of what was going on. Therefore, it fell upon her to try to control whatever damage her husband was doing and to make sure things didn’t fall apart while Syler was gone. At their first court, the nobles and schemers of Thwrud had been baffled at the seemingly naïve and good natured redhead who was their new ruler. After the frequently moody and sometimes harsh rule Syler had given them over the last month, they had expected Havert to be of like temperament. While Alltis had been panicking at his side as he committed blunder after blunder, the Krue had been left so confused and taken aback that the idea of taking advantage of the situation didn't even dawn upon them. Despite that, she knew that there was only so much that they would take before someone took action. So when he had inadvertently insulted Lord Kuloth, lord of the village of Thyond, Alltis had assumed the worst. The day before, Lord Kuloth had approached Havert at the end of the day requesting to present an urgent matter before Havert. Havert, wanting to eat rather than continue on, begged off and promised to attend to the matter the next session. When Lord Kuloth returned early on the next day, Havert had already become distracted from his duties by the thoughts of riding a hasuan through the surrounding woods with a small cadre of young warriors. Instead of keeping his word and listening to what Lord Kuloth had to say, he dismissed the hall early and went out to ride. It might not have been deliberate on his part, but Alltis knew that to promise to hold an audience then to back down on it was a grave insult. The night before, she had asked about Lord Kuloth and discovered that he was a man of not insignificant power in the eastern territories of the clan. She could hardly contain her shock when, instead of calling out Havert, Lord Kuloth simply smiled and bowed in acknowledgment of Havert's decision. It left her befuddled, as did how everyone else in the hall simply acquiesced to his immature decision without complaint. At that moment, Alltis realized that the Krue feared her husband because they simply didn't understand him. The Krue had never been adventurous, nor did they particularly like that which they weren't familiar with. They preferred tradition and things they knew over the unknown. When they had Syler ruling over them, it quickly became clear what type of man he was. Syler was almost always in a bad mood due to the pain from his leg and his fear for his sister. The Krue had learned to walk lightly around him after he slew Lord Yaegran in a direct challenge on his first day as Inthaley, the Clan Lord. Those that didn't fear Syler feared his most staunch and dangerous supporter: Vekla Saekoris. Alltis suspected that the sorceress had done something behind the scenes to instill even more terror in any who might challenge Syler. What had prevented her from coming to this conclusion earlier was that her husband was nothing like Syler. While Syler was reluctant to take on his role as the leader of Thwrud, he had done so seriously. He was firm, decisive, and efficient. Havert took this role excitedly, but didn't truly understand what went into ruling and treated it all as one big excuse not to have to work. He saw being the leader as something fun, not something that was dangerous and could get both of them killed. With her husband content to eat, drink, and have a good time, it fell upon her to navigate the steps of the Dance of Intrigue and make sure everything ran smoothly. Her parents might have been minor nobles in her own village back in Kutiim, but this was a matter far beyond her and she knew it. She had only a small amount of experience in how to handle politics, but it was more than her husband had. She tried to reinterpret her husband's words and orders as much as possible to minimize any insults or ignorance they bestowed, but it was difficult since some of those in the room understood a little of the Common Tongue and could discern that she was not accurately translating what Havert said. The Spirits had smiled upon her when they sent Lord Fedas Horadin to her. Lord Horadin had been one of the first to embrace Syler as Inthaley and since then been a staunch ally of his. Syler had quickly come to trust the man, but more importantly, so had Vekla. As a man in his mid-thirties, Lord Horadin was considered somewhat young to be in his station, but that didn't make him a fool. In fact, having this position at this age bespoke an insight and cunning that rarely visited young men. He had realized what it took two days for Alltis to see almost before Syler had left the city. The first night of Havert's regency, Lord Horadin had approached them after dinner and offered his services as advisor. She saw in him an ally and a chance to survive. It took only a few words from her for Havert to agree. Early the next morning, while Havert was eating breakfast, Lord Horadin had returned and sought her out. For the next hour, they strategized about the day's events and how to handle things. That second day went far better than the first with him there to cover for Havert's blunders. It helped that most of the Krue didn't understand the Common Tongue, much less Havert's eccentric way of speaking. The two of them were able to head most of the problems off by simply rewording what Havert said. They had been able to mitigate most of the problems together through his ties and influence. Lord Horadin had a good share of allies and loyal supporters among the Kruish leyiingant, or nobility. Together, the two of them had managed to prevent any major problem from arising, but she wasn't completely sure that it was working entirely. There were more and more veiled looks between some of the nobles that she didn't like. Now, after what happened with Lord Kuloth, they needed to discuss what to do about their current situation. They were sitting around the feast table in the main hall of Syler’s new estate with a few refreshments the servants insisted on bringing to them. Havert was already in bed after having exhausted himself riding hasuan with the warriors. Alltis finally asked outright about something that had been disturbing her from the start. "I don't understand why they just stand there and do nothing. I don't claim to know much about politics or Kruish honor, but I find it hard to believe that nobody there has seen the weakness Havert has and isn't taking action." Lord Horadin smiled and clasped his hands in front of his chest. "You sees, bwet leya," he explained with a crafty smile, "the leyiinga think that Ley Jakaras is testing them. They believe that he does be like Ley Penion, but is conceals this to see who is against his. If we does play on this thing and continue, they will be too unwilling to act for fearing that Ley Jakaras will change to Ley Penion and kill them all." He might not have a complete grasp on the Common Tongue, but it was a better grasp than hers of Kruish and it was of value to her. Between the two of them, they were able to bridge the language barrier that her husband represented. Syler had been able to fare better with Bronwyn at his side since her Kruish was far better. "So you want me to hint that Havert is holding his true nature back?" she asked. "This is true. You serve well to make them believe he is prepared a list of people he plan to behead so they will not dare speak poor of him." The first reaction she had to the idea of her amicable and fun loving husband ordering executions was to frown. Havert would never order someone executed, at least not for something like gossiping or plotting. He didn’t quite understand how dangerous such whispers were to a man in his position. After a few seconds, she began to consider what Lord Horadin had said in the larger scheme of things. "We need to bluff, but Havert doesn't know about it," she stated. Lord Horadin smiled as he nodded, "Yes, you sees the problem. Ley Jakaras is not a hard man, but he must be to surviving among the People. If they see between his personality and see that he is not a hard man like Ley Penion, then they will turn on him." It was a dangerous dance to dance, one that could end with all three of them dead. If the Krue found out that Havert really was the simple, bumbling man that they saw, they would act without hesitation and one or the other of them would take over. "How do we dance this dance?" she asked. The man smiled, "So you haves heard of the Kavero Denfelen." She nodded, "I have indeed heard of the Dance of Intrigue. It is one of the few things that binds all people of all nations." "Then we may not being as hopeless as I thought," Lord Horadin said with a grim smile. "What are we to do about Havert? I fear that, while he is a good man, he is simply not able to survive the Dance." The Kruish noble hesitated with an answer. After glancing both ways, he stepped closer and said quietly, "We must keep him distracted. I believes that, with you to helping me, I can take rule until Ley Penion returns." Alltis was instantly on guard after hearing those words. "You want to take over?" Lord Horadin shook his head emphatically. His voice rose drastically to his feed and terror brought a sheen of sweat to his brow. "Fao! No! I do not wish to taked power. Ley Penion is ka Majiyae Oretezu, I could never lift a hand against his. I am sweared to serve him as long as I do live. Before him, I bow; behind him, I stand." "Okay, I believe you," Alltis hissed, trying to calm him down before someone came running to check on them. "I do not like this notion of undermining my husband. It is dishonest and treacherous." "It might be the only way," warned Lord Horadin. "If he make more blunders and if the leyiinga find out that he is not cunning or testing them, they will take action and all of us will die. The Krue only following strength, that is our way. If Ley Jakaras shows no strength, they will not follow him." She knew this, but wasn't going to betray her husband like this. He might not be the best for the job, but Syler had trusted the regency to his closest friend, not to Lord Horadin. Syler clearly trusted Havert to rule as he would have wanted or he wouldn't have put him in charge. Even if it was a poor decision, it was his to make, not hers and certainly not Lord Horadin's. She shook her head and said firmly, "No, Syler put Havert in this position, we must respect that. I will not betray my husband nor my friend. If you claim to support Syler, you will take no actions to gain power for yourself." The other man gently tugged on his beard in frustration. "I does not like what you say, but I wills not take action withouts you. I wish you to thinks on what I have said. We cannot trust that we can keeping things under control with Ley Jakaras in the seat. All work we do will be undone by a bad word from him." "Then we must work extra hard to insulate him and shield him from problems. He is easily distracted and that can give us the benefit of handling things on our own." His eyes narrowed. "How is that any difference from making me gaelkadrada? If we is doing all that the work, we are taking his power." "No, he will have the full authority of regent," Alltis explained. "We cannot issue orders against him, but we can deal with matters without him being bothered with them. If there are issues that require his direct authority, then we can guide him." "I am fail to seeing the difference." It was a thin line to be sure, but it was the only one she could make with a clean conscious. She couldn't betray her husband completely and take the power that was given to him and bestow it upon another. She might be able to bend things a little and work around her husband, but she couldn't outright strip him of his authority. As much as Havert liked to play and have fun, he was genuinely thrilled with the trust that Syler gave him and was trying to do his best. With a sad sigh, she said, "He is the gaelkadrada, always remember that. His is the ultimate authority until Syler returns. If we can guide him, then that is good. If we can take care of matters without his needing to be involved, that is better. No matter what, though, he must not know that we are working like this. He genuinely wants to do right by Syler in this matter. To let him know of the disaster he can bring upon us will devastate him and crush his spirit." She lifted her chin defiantly, "I will not allow his spirit to be broken. Is that understood?" Lord Horadin's face was grave and his frown spoke to his feelings on the matter, but he did not argue. "There will be a time when you will wishes that you had taken my offering. You are his friend and he trusting you, so I will do the same. I fear that this will brings about us much hardship, but I will not openly rebel against Inthaley Penion by opposing you." With an accepting nod, Alltis shifted in her chair. Her pregnancy was now showing to the discerning eye and it was beginning to get more and more difficult to find a comfortable position as she adapted to the changes in her belly. "Now, what should we do about Lord Kuloth? Do you know what he wants?" Lord Horadin sighed and took a sip of wine. "I fears that he will not be easy to address. His lands is being raided by thieves and raiding men and he believes that they be the work of Ley Maveris of ka Larossi inthal." Sensing his doubt, Alltis asked, "And what do you think?" With a shrug, he replied, "I be not sure. Ley Kuloth has much hate for the Larossi. We have war with them many times and Thyond has been harmed much in those battles. It mays be the Larossi, it mays be nothing more than cowardly men taking from others." "Either way, what can we do about this?" "Ley Jakaras must sees him and maybe we give a sukithat to find these mens and kill them." She didn’t quite understand what he said, but recognized the second part of the word as being related to the military. "How many is that?" "Dalmabwes, bwet leya, that is one hundred warriors on hasuan." "Can we afford to send those troops from Thwrud?" She wasn't skilled in the ways of the army and wasn't sure if sending troops away was a good thing or even if they had the men to spare. "We have much warriors in Thwrud, more than any other place. A sukithat would not be missed for a week or two. It should not take more than those times to deal with problems." "And if they turn out to be Larossi?" That would not be a good thing at all. She didn't want to be in a war, but she definitely didn't want to be in a war with Havert leading the men. Her idealistic husband was more likely as not to ride out in a glorious but pointless charge thinking that it was one of his beloved stories. "Then we kills them and wait for Ley Penion to come and destroy Laross." He said that as though it were no big thing, but something told Alltis that it was no easy thing he said. "Let us hope that it does not come to that," she said. "It is late and I believe that Havert will begin to wonder where I am shortly. It is time for me to retire for the evening. Thank you, Lord Horadin, for your wisdom and insight." As she stood up, her hands caressed the small but growing bulge of her stomach without thinking. Lord Horadin gave her a brief but formal bow and said, "Of course, I wishing you a pleasant night and will see you in the morning for the celebrations." It was not going to be that easy, she knew. Things were going to get very, very nasty if the Larossi were taking advantage of Lord Saekoris' death to raid Thwrudil territory, it could very easily lead to war. She had no true notion of what war was like between Krue, but her own experience with war against the Angvardi had left her with no desire to ever see it again. Teladia had never been a peaceful place, but now it was looking darker and darker every day. War was everywhere and there were rumors that the Coming Darkness was rapidly approaching. It was hardly the time to be bringing a baby into the world, but the Spirits had made that decision. She could do nothing but accept that and pray that she could do her part to hold off the fighting for as long as possible. She walked up the stairs and down the hall into the room that had been given to the two of them. It was quite luxurious, far better than anything she had experienced in Kutiim. Not even their village leader had such a nice place to live. She didn't care much about that, though. She had been content back in Kubei in the small place that had been assigned to her by the Haresu conquerors. It had been so nice and simple without any of the unnecessary frivolousness that preoccupied the minds of so many vain women. After shooing away a maidservant, she entered the room silently and found Havert sound asleep in their bed. It took only a few minutes to splash some warm water on her face, change into her sleeping gown, and to make sure the fire had wood. It was unnecessary with the servants here, but old habits died hard and it was getting cold enough to need the warmth. With one last stretch to try to relieve the tension in her lower back, she slid into bed next to her husband. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the dim firelight so that she could see the details of Havert's face. When he slept, he seemed so much at peace that she envied him. Her husband, for all of his good natured eagerness, was innocent to many of the hard ways of life. He did not accept burdens and enjoyed relaxing and drinking. He wasn't a drunkard, but he liked ale a little too much for her taste. She reached out and gently stroked his cheek. His beard was only now filling in and becoming respectable which was quite important. Beards among the Kutii were a sign of maturity and manhood. Men shaved their beards after suffering great loss or shame. Among the Krue, all men wore beards unless they had achieved some great deed which then warranted them showing their face. To show one's face without permission was a grave insult that could lead to bloodshed. When he first came to her door in Kubei, she hadn't quite known what to make of him. He had been so kind and, in his own awkward way, noble that she had thought it was nothing more than an act. He did have the respect not to lay with her for a week until she had had enough time to realize that he really wasn't acting. She had not loved him at first, but did her duty as required by the occupiers. It didn't take too long for him to win her over with his silly smile and warm laugh. She wasn't sure how it was with the others who had been forcibly matched with Sei men, but she had come to love Havert with all of her heart. He wasn't the sort of man her parents would have chosen, but he was a good man who cared about her back. She remembered the look on his face when she told him that he was going to be a father. At first, she thought he would be afraid or worse, angry, but he had surprised her. His eyes had widened and his mouth dropped in shock, but that shock quickly turned into the most genuine laugh of sheer joy she had ever heard. He grabbed her in a giant hug and, with strength she didn't know he possessed, he twirled her around the room as though she were a child. Then, as was so very like him, his cheeks reddened and he put her down with an apology on his lips and concern in his eyes. He had been afraid that he had hurt their baby and looked as though he would break into tears until, with a laugh of her own, she assured him that she was fine. He had been so happy that day that he soon raced out the door all but shouting the news to any who would listen. Fortunately, she had managed to get to her parent's house and tell them before he burst in breathless and exhausted. Despite him being a Sei, her parents knew he was good to her and, in thanks, offered a great feast in their honor. It was that feast that nearly turned to disaster with Growald and Syler brawling in their yard. That event had led to an entirely new series of happenings that changed them all forever. It was growing late and she needed to be at her best tomorrow to deal with Lord Kuloth. As much as she would have loved to bask in pleasant memories, sleep was calling. She kissed Havert gently on his forehead before closing her eyes and allowing sleep to overtake her.

Oh, make no mistake, I am quite active and reading posts. I have paused working on the actual novel for a while because I moved from America to China and had internet problems, adjustment issues, and a great deal of work to do setting up for the school year (I am teaching). Now, things are mostly in place, I have a more stable internet connection, and things are beginning to run smoothly. I have more time to respond, but not yet enough to start writing (which usually takes a few uninterrupted hours which are hard to do now). This is NOT the most updated version, not by a long shot. In fact, if you have only read this, I suggest you stop now and go on over to a different topic. I went through a rewrite that drastically altered or expanded certain parts of the story, so much that the material at the end here is pushed back into Book 3. I suggest that, if you are serious about reading it, you check out this topic: viewtopic.php?f=23&t=46770 Even that is a bit outdated as the early chapters were edited a deal after feedback. The most up to date version is likely found on DeviantArt. I submitted things here first and then updated them for DA after problems or typos were pointed out. That is the link to the Prologue which also has all the chapter links for the rest of the book. Each of the later chapters has the links to the two before and two after, so you don't always need that page. I changed a significant deal of things and added new chapters while taking away from others. At this point, I had a far better idea where I was taking things and knew what else to include. Things that didn't work were removed, things that people suggested were implemented. I tried to balance things a little better for the secondary major characters while explaining a little more about the world and added descriptions of the environment. It is still only a second draft, but it is far more rounded. After I finish the second book's first draft, I will go back and polish the first one even further, but that is in the future and I don't foresee major changes like I did in the second draft. To answer your questions: Lamastus is 25, Syler is 22 (in second draft). Lamastus is actually quite a good looking guy with a sort of Spanish (not Latino) look of tall, dark, and handsome. The difference between the two is not one of age, but of experience. Lamastus has been a soldier since he was 15, Syler has never had to live that sort of life. Syler stayed almost all of his life around Sandrin, Lamastus has traveled all over Angvard and been in multiple combat situations. Perhaps I will revisit that scene and see if it needs some adjustment (originally, Syler was only like 19). Most importantly, after reviewing the second draft, I discovered that that line isn't even in there (it was one of those many things that got changed up). The Vision: The arm that was cut off was the arm that was cutting into her and it was a pretty powerful and clean cut (Syler is not weak, he is a freaking blacksmith). There may have been a little more pressure added, but the knife would fall out once the pressure from the man's muscles vanished. Sure, there would be some damage, but it wouldn't have jammed through the bone or anything.

Fascinating. Again, I like the ideas that you use with magic here. It is there, it is clearly binding, it is a part of everyone's life (at least, anyone who ever got married), and yet they don't really understand it. I get what you did there and like it. I am also amused at the including of a very Aes Sedai (Wheel of Time) bond spell between the two of them where they can sense each other's emotions. Somehow, since this is a more personal story, I doubt you are going to get into the political repercussions of such a turnaround, especially if Aeva was from a powerful family (as most royal weddings are). Still, it is a fun turnaround to play here. One question though: you keep this is a first person past tense. Are you going to keep that the entire time, or are you going to eventually catch up with the "present" and start in third person?

I am fascinated with the notion you introduced for marriage, especially the little tongue in cheek jab at today's modern "convenience" marriages. It almost reminds me of the Unbreakable Vow from Harry Potter. I greatly appreciate the more detail and development going on in this part, as well as the introduction of conflict.

It is quite confusing at first, true. I suggest that you take your time and introduce things piece by piece with more detail. You are trying to set up an entire storyline here, there is no need to be stingy with the description, backstory, and the word count.

Yea, I caught that when I submitted it to DeviantArt. Forgot to change it here. As for the man they found at the start, who do you think was sitting behind Fenkrasko in that part you quoted? He is alive and has a part to play in the future. Anyway, some info to tell. As this is mostly a first draft, I am still kinda organizing it. I know the general jist of this follows the first draft you already read, but there are a LOT of changes and even more additions (like, for instance, this next chapter). Part of those changes has taken place recently and necessitates me shifting some things around. I am adding a chapter set in Thwrud featuring Alltis, Havert, and Lord Horadin right after the current Chapter 2. That means that what you just read is actually Chapter 5. So, if you read the title of this topic and was like "Wait, what happened to Chapter 5?" now you know. The new third chapter, titled "A Storyteller, a Wife, and a Lord," is about halfway done, but this was finished first so I am posting it. This chapter is unique for me and has a ton of firsts. It follows along the lines of what I used to write in that it had a lot of action, introspection, and little dialogue. In fact, I think it has the least dialogue of any chapter I have written so far. I introduce a new character, Maleena, who is basically a new everything (except, of course, being a woman, I have a few of those already). She is the first person we have seen of a her nationality (a mystery for the moment), religion (she is a Stoic), and allegiance (well sort of). I had been thinking of adding her since about Chapter 30 of the last novel and am excited to introduce her. The entire chapter is a different feel for me, but I think it works. The feedback I received from DA seemed positive (this is the first chapter that I have ever submitted there before posting here, so there is another first). _________________________________ Chapter 6 A Game of Mouse and Cat Seek, locate, evaluate, measure, conclude, act. — The Six Standards of Measurers Hildervest Province of West Angrava Angvardi Empire November 5 Deep in Teladia's largest forest, nestled along the banks of the Angravada River, the sprawling city of Hildervest spanned out as far as the eye could see on either end of the street. The buildings, mostly made of wood, were rarely more than three stories, but there were tens of thousands of them all clustered together in a mishmash of winding streets and crowded slums. While the wars had taken many of the young men, there were still plenty of people to fill the streets and contribute to the general clamor of the markets. The first thing Maleena noticed upon arriving here two weeks ago was that there were a great deal more women loitering in the streets of the slums than men, even in mornings such as this. With hundreds of thousands of soldiers marching in the West and more legions being formed each week, most of those men who didn't have somewhere to be had been sent off to fight the Westerners. The Measurers had been wise to send her as she could travel far easier than a man could, and without risk of being pressed into the legions. Cities of this size still unnerved her, but she had grown used to their sights. Those in the East must breed like rats to fill cities like this. She had heard that, before the war, Hildervest boasted over four hundred thousand souls—and it wasn't even the largest city in the province! She didn't know how people could stand to live so close to each other for all of their lives. In the rich areas near the river, things weren't so bad, but the farther one got from that roiling river, the worse the living conditions got. Families lived in squalor, sometimes even one on top of each other in buildings that crammed as many people as possible into them. When the wind died down, the stench was enough to sour the back of her throat. She thanked the Stoics that she had learned to endure hardships without yielding because she could have tolerated it here in the summer. The cold at least managed to keep most of the smell and rot at bay. The city had once possessed a walls and a fortress, but centuries of peace in these regions had resulted in their being dismantled and the stones used for construction of grand mansions for the nobles. The last time war had come to these parts had been during the War of Lost Prophecy six hundred years ago, and it had been Angvardi who had marched on their own kind during the civil war that ravaged the entire empire. The fortress still remained, but it was mostly used to house the two legions that served as this region's garrison and was in no condition to withstand a siege. Much of the city ran along the river. The southwestern parts of the riverbanks were reserved for the wealthy and nobles. To the northeast and downriver, the docks and fisher's ports fouled the river for miles with the byproducts of their trade and the waste of thousands of people. She went there once when she was scouting the city and had never returned. This wasn't her first time in the East, though she had never been this far north before. The Easterners always needed to be watched and there were never enough eyes and ears to report on everything that happened in such a vast stretch of land. In her twelve years of service, she had been to every kingdom in the West except Subeleth and most of the Terulan realms. This was only her second time in Angvard and her first alone. There simply weren't enough Measurers to go around these days, not with the wars. An filthy cripple bumped into her and brought Maleena out of her reverie. A lock of her curly black hair slipped out from under her hood and covered her eyes while tickling her nose. She stifled a curse at the unwanted reminder that her task here forced her to have hair at all as she tossed her head to get the hair out of her eyes. Even that unpleasantness did not distract her from the fact that she was no longer alone in the alleyway she had been standing in. She had not seen him when she first entered it, but apparently he had come up from behind her and jostled her on his way to the street. "I do beg your forgiveness, miss," he said. "If only the gods had not seen it fit to give me this leg, I might be fighting the heathens with the rest of the men. Instead, I must beg like a pathetic Westerner." When she made no move to offer coin, he gave her a stunted bow and started scurrying down the street with the rest of the flow of citizens. Maleena rolled her eyes and grabbed the man's arm before he could get two steps. "Being a cripple does not entitle you to what is not yours, nor does it excuse theft." Rather than anger, her voice was calm and controlled. Measurers never acted in anger, they always kept their mind and evaluated the situation. The cripple's eyes widened in indignation as he stammered, "I-I beg your pardon! How dare you—" She rolled her eyes and twisted the man's arm behind him while using her free hand to grab the coinpurse that had previously been tied to her belt from beneath the rags of his sleeve. Before he even had time to cry out, his hand was trapped behind his back and she was whispering calmly into his ear from behind him. "Admit your faults and measured." Instead of admitting his guilt as he should have, the beggar tried to fight. The hand that wasn't firmly within her grasp lashed out and Maleena had time to see the glint of metal before reacting. Foolish mistake, she thought tiredly. She didn't have time for this at all, but her course was clear now. Rather than pushing the man away from her to draw one of the several knives on her person, she used her leverage with the man's trapped hand to pull him closer and prevent him from being able to stab at her. He waved his knife a few times in the air with wild abandon before she snapped his wrist. With a shriek, he dropped his knife and collapsed to the ground in pain. She released his broken wrist and let him cradle it as he began to sob. "My arm!" he cried out between gasps of pain. "You filthy whore, you broke my arm!" With a sigh, Maleena evaluated the situation and came to the only rational conclusion. There was the briefest of movements and the slight rustling of her thick brown robes and the man's sobbing was replaced by wet gasps. A few seconds later, the beggar collapsed into the alley with blood draining from his neck. She stood silently over him, watching him convulse until he moved no more. Then, confident that nobody else had noticed the altercation, she stepped over the man's body and walked into the busy street. In a few seconds, she was lost among the crowd of similarly cloaked citizens. Thus was her purpose: to measure. The man had attempted to steal from her. The measurement for that was to have his wrist broken so that he would be reminded of the consequences of his actions while it healed. It didn't matter that the purse he had stolen contained only a few worthless pieces of iron she had hammered into faux coins to serve as a decoy from her real coinpurse, it was the intent that counted. If he had admitted his mistake and begged forgiveness, she might only have broken his thumb and forefinger. The moment he pulled out the knife, his fate had been sealed. The measurement for attempted murder was death, and death was what she specialized in. Most of the flow in the street went one direction, and Maleena was more than happy to comply because they were all heading where she wanted to go. Everyone seemed to be flocking toward Gazper's Street, the largest in the city. Without even really trying, Maleena found herself heading west toward the thoroughfare that served as the main corridor through the city. The closer they got to that central street, the more difficult it was to continue on. As she heard the excited rumors flying about the crowd, she realized that the day she had been waiting for was finally here. The Empress and her entourage had arrived along their journey south to Terula. Maleena had been waiting for such an occurrence so that she may fulfill the task that she had been sent for. At last she could do her duty and leave this wretched city. It soon became too crowded to move forward, so she had to take to another route or she would never get close enough to the procession to fulfill her task. It took a good deal of gentle shoving and maneuvering to go against the flow, but she was soon able to make it out of the thickest of the throng. She stepped into a crossroad that had few if any people still on it and began looking for a suitable location. When she found one, a brick fence that was collapsing and had many holes in it, she scrambled up. From there, it took only a little work to get to side of the building that the wall had surrounded. Using her arms to pull her up, she swung her legs up onto the ledge of the wooden roof. That building was only two stories tall, but it brushed up next to one that had an additional story. She grabbed a rusting waste pipe and hauled herself up to its roof. After she dusted herself off, she took stock of her new playing field. She could not actually see the Angvravada River from here, but she could see the gap in the buildings where it was. The river itself held little interest to her now except as a means to get her bearings. Gazper's Street bisected the city crosswise from northwest to southeast perpendicular to the river. The Empress would be coming from the north and was likely heading toward the old fortress garrison or perhaps the mayor's estate along the river. Knowing that the procession was going to be travelling through that street didn't do her much good if she didn't know where exactly the Empress was. It wouldn't do to reach the road only to find that she had already passed, nor would it do to wait too close to the fortress and its added guards. She closed her brown eyes and listened to the city around her. When she opened them again, a smile formed on her lips. The noise around the Empress' procession was the bound to be greater, so all she had to do was follow her ears. With a deep breath, she launched herself forward, racing toward her target using the rooftops, edges of walls, and whatever else she needed to avoid the crowds in the streets and head toward where the noise was loudest. It felt good to be using her powerful arms and legs to propel her up and down as she ran from rooftop to rooftop. Few of the buildings were uniform causing her to have to climb and jump down from varying heights. Fortunately, it never took more than a couple of seconds to discover some route that allowed her to go where she wanted. Uneven wallboards, windowsills, and even the occasional stack of boxes provided her with all that she needed to go wherever she wanted. Once, when she needed to cross a street, she grabbed a rather firm looking laundry line, severed it with one of her many knives, and swung across from a four story building to land on a two story building across the street. That had been slightly exhilarating, but had nearly been disastrous when she took a bad roll and nearly fell through a termite infested portion of the roof. A few people saw her, but none raised any alarm. Anyone who had any spare time had already started heading toward Gazper's Street and those left behind had work to do and couldn't spare any to fetch any of the town guard. It didn't matter even if they did because Maleena was moving too fast for any of them to catch up. At last, she could see the glint of long columns of metal clad men marching down a broad street in front of her. Rumor had it that the Empress left her palace with thousands of guards, as though those would protect her from an assassin. Men in shiny armor were great when it came to fighting battles, but they rarely were any problems for a single person skilled in the arts of infiltration and execution. What army was going to attack the Empress so deep in her own empire? Surely the Easterners weren't so paranoid of the West that they thought one of the fragmented kingdoms could slip an army through the lines and march unseen through hundreds and hundreds of miles to attack their Empress. The foolishness of that thought stuck with her as she leaped over the last few obstacles separating her from Gazper's Street. She came to a stop on top of a three story wooden building that, judging from the garnished sign that swung from a pole a few feet below her vantage point, was a cloth shop. Stretched out on either side of the street below her were hundreds of soldiers with spears against their shoulders and banners waving proudly before the cheering crowds. Off to her right, she could see the cavalry and even more banners telling her that the Empress had not yet passed through. This would be the perfect place for her because none of the foolish soldiers thought to look at the roofs of the street they were marching their precious Empress down. Falling to a crouch, she quickly scanned the location, evaluating every window and as many of the crowd as she could see. Satisfied that nobody's attention was directed at her, she allowed herself a brief smile and pulled out the four pieces of her compact bow. The first, a metal riser, had slots at either end for the two flexible wooden limbs fit in. When she slid each limb in, she twisted it a half rotation to lock it into place. The final piece, the bowstring, required little effort for her muscular arms to fit. Once she was finished, she had a compact but nonetheless deadly weapon that could be quickly disassembled if she needed to conceal it. The next thing she did was place five arrows on the ledge in front of her, each within easy reach. She usually didn't miss at this range, but it was better to be sure than to be forced to scramble for another arrow while her target fled to cover. She would get only one chance at this. If she missed, then she would have to escape the city and attempt to waylay the Empress' procession at a later day, but they would be more wary. With her weapon ready, she began to scan the buildings and crowd once more. Her head jerked suddenly toward a flurry of motion across the street. There, across the street on a three story building two shops down, another figure was crouched on the roof. Her instincts told her that this not a normal bystander at all. Her fears were confirmed when the figure turned their head and gazed straight across the street and paused. They lowered their hood revealing a man whose skin, like hers, was too dark to be Angvardi. When he was sure she was completely focused on him, he smiled and gave her a mocking salute with two fingers tapping the left side of his nose three times. Maleena's eyes widened in realization of who this man was even as her body sprang into action. He was probably here for the exact same reason she was, and that was most unfortunate. He couldn't be allowed to complete his mission instead of her because it would invalidate her entire purpose of being here. The Angvardi needed to know that it was her that had taken the shot and not this other man. From her, it was a justified, fully measured, and deserved action in response to unacceptable provocation. From him, it was nothing more than murder. In a blur, she nocked the first of her arrows, pulled the string back, and released it sending an arrow across the street at where the man was crouched. With a sneer, the man rolled backwards and her throw missed. Something thudded into the ledge in front of her and she dropped to cover even as she grabbed a second arrow and nocked it. When she peeked her head over the side of the ledge to line up another shot, the man had vanished. All that remained to testify to his presence at all was a single arrow sticking out of the ledge where she had been crouching. With a snarl, she tugged it out and tested it for a few seconds. Seeing that it was well crafted, she added it to her remaining three remaining on the ledge and deposited all four in the small quiver at her side. With a muttered curse, she scanned the buildings across the street for any sign of the man. Seeing none, she started carefully working her way up the street toward where the Empress was arriving, assuming that was where he was headed. She didn't even manage to cross the cloth shop's roof before something whipped in front of her face and pain shot through her arm. She dropped without hesitation, twisting her body while doing so in the hopes of catching a glance at the man. Even as she fell, she caught sight of him crouching behind the two story building straight across from her. He hadn't headed toward the Empress at all, but went the other direction. If he had been at an equal height as she, his arrow would have landed in her temple rather than just grazing her arm. He had taken a risky shot in shooting from where he was. Either he was foolishly confident in his skills or he was simply content to taunt her. Judging on his mock salute earlier, she was betting on the latter. Well, she was no mouse to be toyed with, but a cat in her own right. If he wanted to play a game with her, he would find that she had claws of her own. With a huff of determination, she untangled her arrow from the bow and held both in the same hand so she had one hand free. With only a quick glance back across the street to determine he wasn't aiming at her, she started crawling toward the rear of the roof. When she got to the edge, she took a gamble and jumped down to the two story shop below. As soon as her feet hit the wooden planks, she dashed away from Gazper's Street and into cover. She couldn't leave the man there to do whatever he had come to do, but neither could she present him with herself as a target. He was good enough to hit her if she let him, even at seventy yards. She ran along the buildings that faced the road parallel to Gazper's Street until she reached another three story building five shops down. Then, she crawled up the exposed windowsill to the third level and checked to make sure her arrow was at the ready. She didn't draw, but her hand was in position to do so. Slowly, she edged her way to the rear of the building over to where she could look out at the procession still going forward below her. The building facing Gazsper's Street was only two stories, but the extra distance didn't bother her. She was hunting now and hoped that her prey wouldn't expect her to appear on the building facing away from the procession. Her brown eyes once again scanned the rooftops for any sign of the cloaked man. There was nothing to be seen, though in one window, a family was looking down at the soldiers. They could be a problem, but not at this point. She needed to find this man before he found her, or worse, the purpose for his being up on the roof in the first place. She had just about convinced herself that he had taken to foot when she saw a twinkle of sunlight off to the side, well above ground level. The morning sun in the east was behind her and somewhere, a piece of metal had caught its rays and reflected them back toward her. She studied the building in the direction it had come from and saw nothing. Then, a bit of movement silhouetted a man's arm peeking out around a corner—a arm holding a bow and aiming at the crowd below. Without hesitation, Maleena took several steps forward while drawing her arrow back and taking aim. It was a long shot for her to make, but the man was only on the second floor of a building so she had height to her advantage. It wasn't very windy, so she felt that the risky shot was worth it. With a quick, whispered prayer to the Stoics, she released the arrow and quickly drew another from her quiver. Instead of penetrating flesh and bone, the arrow smacked into the wood mere inches from the man's arm. That arm jerked back into cover. A split second later, the top of a hooded head and two eyes peered around the corner then quickly retreated before she could loose another arrow. Maleena snarled in frustration at the missed shot and dashed back the way she had come. He would reposition, of course, but she needed to get to a good spot before him so she could have the chance to ambush him again. The Empress' procession was getting closer and time was running out. He would either have to choose between getting to a high point and keeping watch for her or, knowing she was up high herself, go low and hope that the cover of the buildings on each side would prevent her from getting a clean shot. She was left with the same problem: hunt him down or go for the target. Faced in that light, there was only one choice. Even if she was captured or killed, as long as she was the one who fired the shot, her mission was complete. She had to be the one to fire, not that man. Instead of looking for another three story building to perch atop, she headed down, closer to the street where her target was getting nearer with each passing second. There was one small, squat building in the area that had only one story. It was two buildings up the street, almost exactly between where she was now and where she had first set up. The best thing about it was that the taller building behind it would block the early sun and provide her with at least a little shadow to hide in. She was out of breath by the time she got there, but she was not too late. She braced herself in the shadows against the edge of the neighboring building and waited for the Empress' procession to arrive. The cavalry was now marching along in their polished armor, the Empress wouldn't be long at all. There was no sight of the other man anywhere as the cavalry procession ended and the noble's of the Empress' court began walking beneath her vantage point. Slowly, she nocked an arrow and edged a little closer to the edge. This low, there was a good chance someone would see her if she got too close, so she had to be very careful. Without showing the bow just yet, she leaned out a little to see the target. Never one to miss an opportunity to show Imperial might and splendor to the masses, the Empress herself was in a topless carriage in all of her finery. She sat erect with a stony face, not acknowledging the wild cheers around her, but all the same, clearly basking in them. Behind her, after a small column of soldiers, a young woman who had to be the princess had a look of excited wonder on her face as she sat in a carriage of her own. Both were likely warded against attacks, both traditional and magical, but she had come prepared for that. The arrows she had brought were not standard weapons of wood, feathers, and steel. They were enchanted with an extremely rare and valuable substances known only to the Measurers. This enchantment served to negate magic for a split second. Normally, it wasn't enough to do much as fireballs and lightning bolts were only partially diminished by its affects, but she wasn't using it to block either of those. She was using it to allow a single arrow traveling at a high velocity to penetrate a magical ward. She didn't need more than a split second to fulfill her purpose. It was time. Maleena drew her arrow back and brought the fletching to her cheek. She was about to fire when she saw a familiar cloak in the back of the crowd. Beneath it, she saw that all too dark face of the man she had been hunting, but there was no bow in hand. She frowned in confusion at this move. What advantage did he get by joining the crowd? There was no way he could fire a bow from among them. The man started slowly pushing his way forward, careful not to attract too much attention. Something about this didn't make sense. Surely he wasn't planning on rushing the Empress and stabbing her. That was suicide. Even if the guards didn't catch him, the wards would. Her heart nearly stopped at that thought. If he was going to attack, how did he plan on getting past the Empress' wards? She was confident that he didn't possess any of the enchantments that her weapons did, and he couldn't have anticipated on getting any of hers, even if they hadn't been broken by impact. A mage or wizard wouldn't need a bow, they would attempt to use magic to break the shield instead. His actions didn't make sense, and where something didn't make sense, there was often a trap. A Measurer didn't act without properly evaluating and measuring everything. Instead of firing, she watched the man on the street as he got closer and closer to the front edge of the crowd. Her hands tightened around the bow and string as the Empress' carriage drew up next to where he was standing, then passed on. He made no move against it, but waited patiently with his eyes fixed on the next one. Realization dawned upon Maleena and she hesitated. He wasn't after the Empress, he was after the princess! The pieces began to fit into place and she knew what he was doing. He never intended to attack with a bow, only to convince her that he was and to force her into a close range where she would be seen once she fired. Then, after the Empress was dead and everyone was after her, he would slip into the chaos and kill the princess. By then, the wards would be all in chaos and the girl would be left all but unprotected. Why would he pass up the Empress only to hunt down her daughter? What sort of nefarious purpose would he want from that? She could think of several possible outcomes of having both the Empress and her sole heir killed and few of them seemed pleasant. The undeniable chaos that would result would cause more destruction than was needed. Now she was torn. She had her mission and it was quickly passing her by. She had come to kill the Empress, a woman who had been measured and found deserving of death. However, the princess, by all accounts, was a gentle, kind young woman who had no part in her mother's war. She had not been measured nor found deserving. Could she stand by as this man killed an innocent as direct result of her actions? This was not an easy choice, but her training had left her with trustworthy instincts. She had been forced to make decisions in a rush before and in each, she had followed what her gut told her to do. This time, her gut was telling her that she couldn't let the princess die, even if it meant failing her mission. Another could be sent to fulfill the task, but if both died, nobody could repair the damage it would cause. Worse, she couldn't live with herself and allow the man to kill the girl. The man finally made it to the edge of the crowd. When the princess' carriage reached him, he did something she didn't expect. Instead of waiting for her to make the shot against the Empress, he pointed up to her and screamed something. Hundreds of heads turned toward her and her cover was entirely blown. Before she could retreat, she saw the man's cloak drop to the ground revealing a set of armor identical to that worn by the guards. He didn't need her to kill the Empress to get close to the princess. In the space of a heartbeat, Maleena knew what she had to do. Without any further hesitation, she took aim and fired straight at the man's heart. The arrow caused a brief flicker of energy from the ward surrounding the princess as it passed within inches of her face. The arrow continued true straight into the man's chest leaving the princess unharmed and him decidedly less unharmed. A smile formed on one side of Maleena's mouth as the satisfaction of a clean shot washed over her, then there was pain. An invisible hand seemed to slam into her and smash her against the wall of the building. She cried out in pain as several ribs were broken from the impact. Angry shouts from below grew dimmer as blood began to pound in her ears. Whatever spell was holding her to the wall, it was powerful enough to prevent her from breathing. Her heart had already been pounding from adrenaline released by the situation and her body was crying out for air. Her vision faded into blackness and she felt no more pain.

Sorry about the delay. I had this mostly done, but have been delayed in posting it for various reasons. This is a fun chapter meant to replace the events in the first draft that took place in Sua Tles with the ambush there. I took things a different direction here and played around a little with what happened. Overall, I am mostly pleased with this, though it took a lot of tweaking and changes. That it is from a different perspective than most of what I have written in the past, but I think it provides a different perspective on the events. Chapter 5 At the Pillars of Nar-Goraan Throughout Teladia, there are places that defy logic and the natural laws of magic. Some, like the hidden Shrine of Galos or Hranson's Pit are small, only a few dozen yards wide. Others, such as the Haunted Hills or the entirety of the Eascand Desert, are large and can encompass tens to thousands of square miles. In these places, strange things happen that can catch even the most experienced traveler unaware. — Histories of Magical Convergences and Unknown Phenomena, by Sage Wi Seven miles north of Fort Grulvan Border of Sei and Sua November 4 "Whatever happens," Syler was saying as they approached the towering stones, "do not spill blood within the Pillars." They were all on foot with the riders holding the reins of their hasuan as they marched toward the imposing pieces of grey rock. Syler and Growald both insisted on coming on foot for the last half mile or so as a sign of respect to the ancestors. The Kruish warriors followed their lord's command without hesitation, but Lamastus and Vekla seemed quite irked. "Why not?" asked Bronwyn despite herself. She was still angry at him, but she was also curious. Even if she wasn't happy with coming into such a dangerous place, it was a piece of her husband's past and heritage. When her anger died down and she was more calm, she knew that she would have wanted to know as much about this place if for no reason other than that it was something Syler thought important. He didn't turn to look at her, but kept his gaze forward and addressed the entire group. "It is forbidden to shed blood there. There are stories of…" his voiced faltered for a moment, but he did continue, "…something that protects the stones. Most believe it is the spirits of our ancestors who died fighting for this place." "Is that what you believe?" asked Lamastus. He was not too happy about coming here, but he was not going to let that mere fact prevent him from sticking close to his friend. Before Syler could answer, Growald's gruff voice spoke up, "It don't matter, Degal Tinzke. Just don't do anything stupid and we will all be okay. You don't want to mess around in this place." That elicited a derisive snort from Vekla, though Bronwyn wasn't sure if that was for Growald's use of Lamastus' new insulting nickname or if it was because of the warning. The sorceress was walking beside her, clearly in an attempt to continue their fragile solidarity and to show Syler her displeasure with his decision. "That may be," Lamastus replied, "but that doesn't answer my question." With a sigh, Syler said, "We don't know. Nobody in recent memory has been foolish enough to shed blood here. As I told you, it is a sacred place and nobody would dare violate it, even in wartime." "The Angvardi follow the Way, and it holds nothing sacred that defies Unity," warned Lamastus. "I know," was all the response Syler gave, and even that was given through clenched teeth. They continued in silence from that point on, though it wasn't far. All of them were alert and kept their eyes constantly scanning the hills for any sign of danger. As he often did, Jutimaen had gone out a small way ahead to scout out the location for any lurking Angvardi. He had not sounded the alarm, so they continued onward. At last, they stepped into a clearing that surrounded the Pillars. The Pillars themselves were a series of a couple of dozen large stones standing up vertically. Some were a yard or two across while the larger ones were three or more yards thick. The shortest of the grey granite pillars easily reached twenty feet into the sky and the tallest was more than double that. The stones were arrayed in a circle roughly seventy yards across. Due to the clearing around those no vegetation grew within a hundred and twenty yards of any of the Pillars. Bronwyn couldn't see any evidence of someone tilling the ground and had didn't know why it would be so void of life. Even as angry as she was, Bronwyn had to admit there was something about these stones that was awe inspiring. As they got closer to the Pillars, that sense only increased. Over every part of the stones were carvings of lines, symbols, shapes, and runes that she couldn't read. A few of the symbols looked like they represented common things like the sun, rivers, trees, people, and horses, but she couldn't determine what their purpose was or if they even had one. Most interestingly, as they got closer, she noticed that a few of the symbols glowed faintly in various colors. There was definitely magic at work here, though she had no idea what type. The ground all around the circle was bare, though it didn't appear that anyone had cleared it. To her, it seemed that no vegetation was willing to intrude upon the pillars. Without direction, everyone in the group fell silent. Feldthas, Baelkar, and Wrendak began circumnavigating the clearing to take up guard positions, but they didn't get far before Feldthas cried out a warning and someone within the Pillars darted for cover. "No weapons!" shouted Syler before swords could be unsheathed or axes brought to hand. That order didn't need translation, but the warriors did not look pleased, nor did they all release pommels or handles. Seeing his words heeded, Syler nodded and took a few steps forward. "Show yourself," he called out. "None will harm you. This is a place of peace and we will not break it." After ten breaths of silence, a timid male voice answered, "Are you Angvardi?" Syler let out the breath he had been holding and visibly relaxed. "No, we are not. I am Syler Penion of Sandrin and with me comes forth Growald of the Seinari. We come to honor our ancestors, nothing more." "And the others?" the voice asked. "They are not Sei or Sua, but they follow my will and won't interfere or inhibit." There was a pause, then a raggedly dressed middle aged man appeared from behind one of the pillars. "You are free Sei, then, no? Part of the resistance?" "What do you know of the unchained Sei?" said Growald a bit forcefully. The man flinched and raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. "Only that they are killing Angvardi and refuse to bow to their heathen Way." "Damn truth there." Growald folded his arms across his chest in satisfaction. His mouth opened as if to say something else, but Vekla interrupted him. "Who are you and what are you doing?" she demanded. The man's eyes widened at her foreign accent and took a step back. "I am but a simple peasant of the Sua. Nobody of importance." A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he withered under Vekla's glare. He looked like he was about to dart away until he noticed that Feldthas and Wrendak were already at either side of him and Baelkar was behind, cutting off any hope of escape. "Who are you?" he cried out in fear. "They are Krue, enemies of the Easterners," replied Syler placatingly. "I told you they follow my command and I am here only to honor our ancestors." "The Krue serve you?" "These Krue do, yes. Rest at peace, we are here only to pay homage, then we shall depart." The man straightened up and lifted his chin slightly. "I am Paulos Fensar of Tenad, a humble shepherd who has escaped the domination of the Easterners." Syler nodded in acknowledgment of this and spread his arms wide to show he was not a threat. "Our people have fought much, but we now have a common enemy. You have nothing to fear from us." "You honor our ancestors, Syler Penion," Paulos said with a bow. "I will respect you desire to honor your ancestors. When you are ready, and if it pleases you, I desire to speak with you." Though he briefly eyed the Krue standing watch, he sat back down in front of one of the pillars and began praying. Bronwyn stood in silence just outside the ring of stones while her husband went in to walk among them. She could respect the age and magnificence that such a place held, but these were not her ancestors, nor was she beholden to the Elements. She followed the Spirits and they held no power here in the center of the Sua and Sei territories where the Elements held sway. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel more calm in the presence of these stones. Perhaps if she was not so angry with Syler, she might have stood by him, but for now, she contented herself in watching him. With a solemn face, he went from pillar to pillar, studying and sometimes touching the things carved into them. He didn't spend too long at any particular one, but kept moving in a quiet, dignified pace. Occasionally, he would bow his head and close his eyes. When he did this, she could see his lips moving, but whatever he was saying was too quiet for her to hear. Growald behaved in a similar fashion, though he didn't seem to pray as much. While the two Sei wandered the Pillars, the Krue took the opportunity to rest a little and talk amongst themselves. They took care not to speak above a whisper out of respect for their lord's sacred place. Mage Zago kept away from the others and the Pillars themselves. He and his hasuan remained at the edge of the clearing. To her, he almost looked like he was nervous or uncomfortable. Vekla, too, seemed abnormally jittery. The normally stoic warrior fidgeted as she stood next to her and frequently jerked her head back and forth as though searching for something only she could see. With nothing else to do, Bronwyn leaned over and said quietly in the Common Tongue, "What is wrong?" Vekla's eyes narrowed and her cheeks colored slightly, but she answered. "I had not thought it showed." Bronwyn arched a brow. "It does. What is it?" Vekla shrugged. "I am not sure. I feel…strange here. The air seems constricted or perhaps tense, like a bowstring drawn and ready to release an arrow. It may be nothing except nervousness at being in such a vulnerable place." "The symbols," Bronwyn said as she pointed at the nearest Pillar, "they are magic, are they not?" The other woman shrugged, "They must be, but they are not familiar. Maybe wizard's art produced them, but I sense none of the marks of sorcery." "I saw something like them once," said Lamastus quietly. "There is a shrine in Dunstad that held some ancient stones that were purportedly from the ruined Zazaspi city of Teradl'zrue. There were numerous runes that glowed blue and a sun that was yellow." Vekla's eyes narrowed and the air around her seemed to chill slightly. "The Haresu are not supposed to be treading there." His left brow rose. He kept his voice light, but clearly he was angered. "I was unaware that the Krue had claimed Eascand as well as Subeleth." "Easterners have no right to violate those sacred places by pillaging their relics," Vekla snapped back. "Nobody claims them, so any are free to go there." "Your kind have no resp—" A sudden cry of alarm went out from Wrendak, cutting her off. Bronwyn turned to look at what it was, but found herself sprawled out on the pebble strewn dirt with Lamastus on top of her. Before she could say anything, she heard the whistle of arrows flying and landing all around them. "Kenosae!" someone shouted, and all chaos broke loose. Lamastus struggled to get off of her and assess the situation, but she kept squirming and fighting him to get up first. "Syler!" she called out desperately scanning the circle of pillars for any sign of him. She managed to flip over onto her stomach and prop herself up on her arms so she could see some of what was happening. One of the Kruish warriors, possibly Baelkar, was lying on the ground with an arrow in his chest and several others scrambling to attack the ambushers or toward the Pillars to find their lord. She didn't see any sign of her husband, but she did see and hear the others issuing their own battle cries and charging. After clawing at the dirt frantically trying to gain enough traction to pull herself out from under Lamastus, Bronwyn managed to catch a glimpse of her husband's black armor streaking across the center of the Pillars and toward the warriors rushing to protect him. Growald had already joined him and was shouting obscenities and curses as they ran for cover. "Stop fighting me and stay down, woman," Lamastus snarled into her ear. Suddenly, she realized that Lamastus wasn't trying to get up at all, but was trying to keep her on the ground and covered by his armored body against the arrows that were still falling. Before she could comply, something that felt like fire scorched her right bicep bringing pain that dropped her back to the dirt. Blood was already seeping through her dress and the arrow that had grazed her was stuck in the ground barely an inch from her hand. She gulped at how close it had landed even as she tried to blink away the tears of pain that were clouding her vision. Now that she wasn't struggling against him, Bronwyn found that she was able to spend her time looking out at what was going on, though that wasn't much comfort considering what she saw. A bloodcurdling cry went out from one of the hasuan as it collapsed to the ground with multiple arrows in its flank. The others, at least the ones without riders on them, went ballistic and charged forward to strike back at those who were shooting at them. Vekla, with her long black braids flowing behind her as she sprinted toward Syler, shouted, "Dethad ka ley!" Relwind and Gombel had already gotten to Syler and had placed their bodies between his and harm even as they ran for the cover of one of the Pillars. The Sua, Paulo, was crouched down behind another of the Pillars with eyes so wide that she thought she could see their whites. With a fierce snarl on her lips, Vekla lifted her hands up toward the direction the arrows were coming from and lightning began to arc between her fingers. "No magic!" Syler shouted when he saw what she was doing. Whether she ignored his outcry or it was too late to stop it, Vekla released the bolt of lightning. For a split second, the bolt of lightning lashed out toward the edge of the scrub where the arrows were coming from, then it bent upwards straight into three of the Pillars. There was a horrific hissing sound as the energy built up within those stones and every symbol, rune, or shape on them glowed with blindingly bright light. Vekla stopped her attack as soon as she saw what was happening, but it was too late. The entire ground shook as a wave of energy shot out from each of the three Pillars straight into the sorceress. She tried to ward herself, but there wasn't enough time. The energy slammed into her and threw her a dozen yards back into the Pillar closest to Bronwyn where her limp body sagged to the ground. "Oh shit!" groaned Lamastus. He scrambled to his hands and knees and said, "Come on, we need to get her and get to better cover than this." He started crawling toward the Pillar that Vekla was slumped against cursing with each breath. A fireball arced overhead aimed at their direction. Before it hit, its path deviated sideways straight into the Pillar they were heading toward. Every rune and symbol shone like the sun briefly before a red wave of energy lanced back the direction the fireball had come. Bronwyn hoped that whoever cast it suffered the same fate that Vekla did. The initial barrage of arrows had lessened a little now that they were focusing on the warriors either clustering around Syler or launching an attack on the tree line. Bronwyn quickly followed Lamastus despite the pain in her right arm. He got there first and cautiously reached around the Pillar to grab Vekla's arm. With more than a few grunts of exertion, he started pulling her back around into cover. Bronwyn wondered if it might not be easier to just go out and get her, but then an arrow pinged off the Pillar in front of her sending shards of stone into her face. Ignoring her fear and pain, she helped Lamastus pull Vekla into cover. An arrow glanced off of Lamastus' pauldron, but another dug itself deep into Vekla's leg just before they managed to drag her behind the Pillar. Lamastus placed his ear over Vekla's nose and mouth and listened. "Well, I think she's breathing, but I am not sure." Since she wasn't wearing thick gloves like the Angvardi was, Bronwyn placed her fingers against Vekla's neck and felt a weak pulse. At her nod, Lamastus snapped off a leather strip from the back of his greave and quickly tied it around her leg above where the arrow had hit. He snapped the fletching and half of the arrow off, but left the rest in her leg. The sound of hooves thumping against the ground caused both of them to look up. Fenkrasko, his fancy armor shiny no longer, circled around atop his hasuan. "[My lady, you are safe!]" he said in Kruish. "[Mistress Vekla is still alive,]" she told the mounted warrior. Fenkrasko nodded said, "[i will inform Sergeant Naedel at once and send the healer boy.]" The apprentice wasn't likely to be much help in this. Vekla needed magic to counter whatever had happened to her. "[What about Zago?]" "[He is holding the Easterners at bay while we regroup.]" As if to punctuate his words, there was a huge whooshing of air and a massive wall of fire burned a line between the clearing around the Pillars and most of their attackers. Lamastus craned his head to look at what was happening while Fenkrasko said, "[That will not hold them for long. We must move quickly.]" He kicked his hasuan into a gallop heading over to where Jutimaen, Jaquiil, Pastal, and Naedel were on foot guarding Zago from a half dozen or so Angvardi who had managed to go around the flame wall. "We need to head for the hasuan," Lamastus said as he poked his head around once more. She shook her head. "We can't move Vekla like this, and not just because it could kill her. If we get out there in the open, they will pick us off for sure. Remember, I am not wearing armor." With a snarl, Lamastus settled for keeping an eye out on what was going on. With nothing else to do, she peeked around the other side of the Pillar. She saw Wrendak in his light leather jerkin charging into a cluster of Angvardi spearmen. His sword was out and, to her surprise, was glowing a soft, pale blue color. He lashed out at the first Easterner he reached and sheered the steel tipped spear straight off before reversing the swing and jamming his sword straight into the man's chest. Ice instantly formed around the man's wound. She thought she heard the sound of that ice shattering as Wrendak pulled the sword out, but it had to be her imagination because there was no way she could have heard such a thing over the man's blood crazed yelling. Lamastus pulled at her injured arm causing her to cry out in pain and turning her attention on him. He offered only a quick "Sorry," before pointing to Jaquiil running toward them with his bag of potions and poultices strung around his shoulder. "Pay attention to yourself or you are likely to get stuck with a pike from behind." "I am no warrior," she snapped back. The pain in her arm was still throbbing after he inadvertently grabbed it and she was worried sick over Syler. "Obviously, but that doesn't mean you don't have eyes," he retorted. "If you aren't careful, then—" An arrow glanced off his helmet dropping Lamastus backward to the ground. Bronwyn screamed for a split second and crawled over to him. He was groaning and had his right hand over his forehead. "I'm going to feel that tonight," he mumbled angrily. He scrambled deeper into the meager cover offered by the Pillar and felt at his helmet. "It has a deep scoring along one side, but it didn't penetrate and I don't see any blood," Bronwyn informed him, since he didn't dare take it off. She flinched as an explosion rang out in the clearing. She looked out to see Jutimaen on the ground and a cloud of dust nearby. Another hurried glance to the center of the Pillars showed Syler, Relwind, and Growald huddled behind one of the larger stones and Growald shouting out orders. She didn't exactly see anyone around who might be able to hear the Seinari officer in order to follow those orders, but that didn't seem to faze the man on bit. Jaquiil burst around the Pillar and dove headfirst into her. If she hadn't been already sitting with her back up against the Pillar, she would have been knocked flat. The boy quickly rolled off of her and blushed. "[Apologies, my lady.]" Despite herself, she smiled, "[None needed, it is quite dangerous in the open, especially without armor. See what you can do for Vekla.]" He nodded and took stock of the downed sorceress and the broken off arrow still sticking out of her leg. With surprising speed and sureness, he reached into his bag and pulled out a vial of murky red liquid. "[it did not penetrate the bone, only flesh,]" he announced. "[This is good. If you can, pull the arrow out at my command.]" Bronwyn shuffled around so she could reach the arrow and took hold of the part near the head that had gone through the leg. "[i am ready.]" Jaquiil nodded at her to start. With a grimace, Bronwyn pulled at the arrow. It was much more difficult than she had thought it would be and she sorely missed the muscles she had earned working with Syler in his forge back in Kubei. Weeks of being ill and doing nothing had ruined most of that, but she wasn't completely helpless. "By the Four, that madman has ripped off his own shirt!" Lamastus cried out incredulously. "He's outnumbered ten to one and still going at them." Bronwyn's blood burned to look out and see what was going on, but if she didn't do as the healer ordered, it would be Vekla's blood that spilled out onto the ground—along with her life. As the arrow began to slide out, Jaquiil slowly poured the vial into the hole. It glowed slightly and began to sizzle, but no more blood poured out. "Syler's making a move for the perimeter!" reported Lamastus excitedly. Bronwyn heard her husband's voice calling out across the battlefield, but she couldn't make out his words. Lamastus apparently could because he cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, "She's with me and isn't hurt. Vekla's down, but the healer boy is tending to her." Jaquiil was finished emptying the vial into the wound, but before Bronwyn could escape and see Syler, he said, "[Hold the leg up and stable so I can get to both sides. It needs dressing or the potion will not have a chance to fully work.]" She groaned, but followed orders. The boy pulled out two poultices in linen pouches and an extra length of clean linen to serve as bindings. "[This won't take long,]" he assured her. A crackle of energy and the loud, torturous creaking of a tree falling in the distance caused both of them to flinch, but he didn't pause his work. "Got it," Lamastus said, though once again she couldn't hear what Syler had said. "We will be ready." "What is going on?" she demanded. He turned back toward her and said, "Syler and the others are going for the hasuan to create a little diversion. They will charge at the enemy and try to take out their archers. After that, they will be coming to pick us up and get out of here." "He isn't doing anything foolish, is he?" she asked worriedly. Lamastus shrugged. "If by 'foolish' you mean 'dangerous,' then yes. This is a battle, even if it is a small one. In battle, everything is dangerous." Another fireball whirled overhead and slammed into the dirt well off to the side behind them, cutting off any response she would have made. He gave her a lopsided smile and added, "Well, at we are safe while we are by this." He pounded the Pillar that was providing them cover with one fist. "What about Syler?" mumbled Bronwyn to herself. Beside her, Jaquiil threw aside some bloody linen rags and said, "[That is all I can do for her now. She is in the hands of the Spirits.]" He got up and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulders before taking a step out into the fray. By impulse, Bronwyn grabbed his hand and asked, "[What are you doing?]" He frowned, looking slightly confused, and said, "[There are others that have fallen and need my help. I must go to them.]" Bronwyn let his hand slip from hers and he dashed out into the open. Lamastus shrugged and said, "That boy has guts going out there without armor or a weapon." "Not all of us are warriors, but you don't have to be a warrior to be brave." He nodded at this. "Well said, my lady." The sound of thundering hooves came to them and he added, "Looks like the diversion has begun." Fearing what she would see yet unable to resist the sight, Bronwyn joined him. Numerous hasuan were now charging into what she thought was the flank of the Angvardi position. She gasped in terror when she saw Syler among them. Zago and the enemy wielder or wielders were still trading blows of magic. Each seemed more occupied with preventing the other from effectively using his spells rather than striking out against the fighting men. With a roar that even they could hear, the Krue slammed into a wall of spears and armored men half concealed by the scrub. Heedless of any obstacle, the hasuan dug their single horns through any who stood before them and sent the bodies flying with a flip of their necks. Kruish spears and other weapons buried themselves in Angvardi necks or heads and used their momentum to slash right through. Even with only eight taking part, a hasuan charge was a terrifying thing that shredded any infantry formation as small as the one they were facing. The charge didn't stop after breaching the hastily gathered spears, but kept going through the archers gathered behind. A quick flash of light and the death scream of a hasuan told Bronwyn that at least one of the warriors had fallen, but the rest continued out the hole on the other side that Wrendak had more or less single handedly cleared. She caught sight of the now bare-chested man lopping the head off of another Angvardi as the hasuan rode behind him. His mouth opened in another bellowing challenge when an arrow slammed straight into his neck from the side. He fell to his knees, but wasn't ready to give up. He fought against two Angvardi spearmen from his knees. Wrendak might have managed to get back on his feet except a third Angvardi jammed his spear into his side sending a spray of blood out as the head travelled through the man's body and came out of his back. Bronwyn gasped as he fell down and didn't get back up. Lamastus gently tapped her shoulder to snap her out of the sight of carnage. "They're coming this way, best get ready." He stood up and stretched out his arms. After a couple of seconds, he reached down, grabbed Vekla around the waist, and hefted her over his shoulders with a grunt. "Gods, she is heavy." Despite everything, Bronwyn couldn't help but quip, "Best not let her hear you say that." He tried to shrug, but wasn't quite able to with the added weight. "It's her fault for wearing so much armor, for all the good it did her." He turned around to face the sound of hasuan getting closer and nearly stumbled in the loose dirt. From that point on, he focused on where he was stepping lest a loose stone cause him to twist his ankle and drop Vekla. Two magnificent explosions shattered trees and hurled small stones like shrapnel along the Angvardi ranks as Zago tried to provide them cover. Now standing in readiness, Bronwyn peeked around the edge of the Pillar again and saw the remaining Krue thundering away from the enemy lines and heading straight for them. Several men and mounts were covered in blood and one or two, including Baelkar, had an arrow still sticking out from their armor. She blinked twice at the site of the Sua man riding behind Fenkrasko with terror contorting his face. Her legs grew wobbly in relief when she saw a furious looking Syler at their front. Ment'fa'haehl's horn was covered in blood and gore. She had a large streak of blood along her chest and a few smaller wounds on her flanks from the charge. She was not alone in that condition, almost all the other hasuan bore injuries as well. To her dismay, there were noticeably fewer hasuan in the group and several of the warriors were double mounted. As they grew closer, a new problem dawned upon Bronwyn. The Krue, having long sense known that sometimes, a second rider needed to be quickly plucked up and taken to safety, developed a series of rope loops that could be dropped down the side of one so that a second person could quickly grab hold and be carried along a short distance until it was safe to pause long enough to properly mount. Due to the height of the hasuan, there was no really quick way to mount one using any other way. It was one of the few weaknesses the large equines had in comparison to horses. That tactic would work well enough if it was just Bronwyn and Lamastus needing to be picked up, but there was no way that he could hold onto an unconscious Vekla and those loops at once. Bronwyn took Syler's offered hand and began to scramble up the side of Ment'fa'haehl. As soon as she reached the top of the mare's back, she twisted around and noticed in dismay that the Angvardi had reformed and that a dozen of them were charging toward them. Delmonor leaped off of his hasuan and started helping Lamastus get Vekla slung over a second mount. Even though they were working as rapidly as they could, Bronwyn knew it wouldn't be enough. A flight of arrows fired at extreme range landed among them sending a loud cry from Growald's mount. The Seinari officer snarled as his hasuan wobbled beneath him. The stalwart beast didn't completely collapse despite the arrow now sticking out of its hindquarters, but it wouldn't be running any time soon. If Bronwyn could notice that, then so could the experienced soldier. His head swiveled twice between Syler and the two men trying to get Vekla up, then he wheeled his hasuan around. "Get out of here as soon as she is ready!" he shouted. "Don't wait for me." "What are you doing?" demanded Syler even as another barrage fell among them. This time, Zago managed to throw a hasty shield over where most of them were headed and the projectiles sizzled into vapor. "I can't do that for long," the mage said. For the first time, Bronwyn noticed that his robes were covered in dirt and blood. Sweat covered his face from his earlier exertions. Growald kicked his wounded mount into motion heading straight for the Angvardi. He called over his shoulder, "The sorceress is more valuable to you than I am! Make it mean something, boy!" Syler tugged on Ment'fa'haehl's reins, but was stopped by Lamastus. "Syler, let him go! He knows what he is doing." "No," said Syler. "I won't let him sacrifice himself for us." Knowing how much it must pain her husband, Bronwyn placed her hand on his shoulder and said softly, "It is his choice, and he is right. We cannot get Vekla on a hasuan under enemy fire. Besides," she added after a brief pause, "it is too late now, he is committed." It was true. Injured or not, Growald's hasuan was in the heat of a charge and nothing was going to slow it down short of death. Growald was whooping and laughing as he swung his sword over his head to attract as much attention as possible. The archers, knowing the danger that even one man on hasuan presented to men caught in the open, redirected most of their fire on him even as pikes rushed into place. With one final grunt, Lamastus and Delmonor managed to heave Vekla's body over the back of a hasuan. Lamastus, already on top, grabbed the reins and started away from the Angvardi. Vekla was slumped on her belly across the hasuan's back in front of him so he could make sure she didn't fall off. "Come on, Syler, before they finally stick the old bear and come after us!" he shouted. Syler looked once at Naedel in desperation and received only a single nod as he turned his own hasuan toward safety. The sergeant might not speak the Common Tongue, but he knew what was going on from experience. "Syler, we need to go," Bronwyn said sadly. If they stayed, more would be killed and Growald's sacrifice would be in vain. Syler might have ignored them and turned back except Ment'fa'haehl shuddered in pain beneath them. An arrow was sticking out of her ribs right behind Bronwyn's legs. Ment'fa'haehl might still be able to run, but the arrow's presence reminded him that they were still in danger. With an anguished growl, Syler whirled Ment'fa'haehl back around and started racing away. Bronwyn looked back just before they left the clearing and saw that Growald's hasuan had finally taken enough arrows to kill it. Growald himself was kneeling on the ground with two white fletched arrows sticking out of him and Angvardi pikemen rushing toward him. He held his sword in front of him and his mouth was open in a cry of defiance. Then she could see no more as the spindly trees whirled past her, obscuring her view. None of the other Krue looked back, though they all kept on high alert watching for any sign of further ambushes. As they rode through the wilderness away from the ambush site, Bronwyn could see tears flowing down her husband's cheeks and felt whatever anger she had held at him dissipate into the wind.

Not all is love and peace in Camp Syler. Even though they are united under one leader and one purpose, everyone has their own little quirks and rivalries are bound to develop. This chapter lets me explore a tiny bit of this dynamic before they are thrown into action. Most importantly, it shows that Syler and Bronwyn aren't always the perfect, loving couple. It also gives us a little one on one time between Vekla and Bronwyn, two of the most influential and powerful women in the series, and starts their relationship development. I do like how this turned out, though it was a fight not to make it longer. As it is, it is already fairly long, but I didn't quite have enough to make it into two chapters, and even if I did, I think it would slow things down too much at the start. Anyway, next chapter could either be a continuation of the Camp Syler or a jump over to Thwrud and Alltis' problems ruling Syler's new domain in her irresponsible husband's stead. Still pondering the flow and structure of everything, so not sure how that is going to go. _______________ Chapter 4 Diversions Along the Way There are many things that divide the Sua and Sei, despite their common heritage. War, vengeance, hatred, and rivers of spilled blood divide them as foes as bitter as any that can be found in Teladia. However, there is one thing that brings them together. Both people place great importance upon the ancient places. — Report to Lord Tishnon, governor of Angvardi occupied Sei Eight miles north of Fort Grulvan Border of Sei and Sua November 4 They had made good time since finding Lamastus. They had spirited away from See Sei the next morning and crossed the hilly western Sei countryside at great speed. As he was scouting, Jutimaen managed to spot any of the sparse travelers they came across before the Kruish party was discovered. They came upon a single mounted Angvardi patrol without being seen and were in perfect position to ambush them, but Syler prohibited the it. He didn't want to risk alerting the Angvardi that a hostile force was in the area. There wasn't likely anything that could stop them now, but he didn't want them to increase patrols thus causing problems on their return trip. Along the way, especially when they camped at night, there was always plenty to do to keep them occupied. Bronwyn was glad to see that the warriors took care of the mundane tasks involved around setting up and breaking down camp. That left her free to watch out for her husband's increasingly anxious behavior. He could not remain still except when actually moving toward his sister. When they were at camp, he paced, fidgeted, or studied maps at length. It took her pressuring him to even take the time to eat, and even then all he did was worry about how long it was taking. She scolded him plenty of times for that because they were moving at well over twice the speed any troop on horseback could muster. Despite her words, he remained impatient and antsy. When she finally had enough, she would go and help Jaquiil cook their rations. Others in the camp weren't so ill tempered, though that didn't mean there was always peace and harmony. Lamastus was not well liked at all because of who he was. He had sulked the first night as the Krue cooked up his horse, but his mood improved drastically the next morning as soon as he was mounted up on the hasuan they brought for him. It didn't take long before he was praising the strength and durability of the mount, but even that got him in trouble. Vekla didn't take to him at all, especially as he continued to treat her as he did in the shrub. He never missed an opportunity to verbally spar with her, so much so that Bronwyn wasn't exactly sure if he was even still pursuing an alliance with her or was burning all hopes of peace between them. Lamastus didn't help his cause when it came out that he was a proud infantryman. In doing so, he entered into the rivalry between those who fought on foot and those who choose to go to battle mounted. Among the Krue, who valued their hasuan riders most, the infantry were a lesser class. Only the best were allowed a hasuan, so anyone who had to fight on foot was deemed of less worth and valor. Lamastus' declaration endeared him with Baelkar and Relwind, but turned many of the others farther against him. Perhaps because of her judicious mistranslating of his words at their first meeting, he and Fenkrasko seemed mostly okay riding near each other, but none of the other Krue would spend time near him except the ever friendly Delmonor. Lamastus didn't go out of his way to engage in any of the teasing the cavalrymen dished out on Baelkar and Relwind, but that didn't stop them from throwing insults his way in Kruish. Bronwyn was glad that he didn't know the language otherwise he may have gotten himself killed in returning the insults. Growald had gotten along with the others about as well as he got along with Lamastus and Syler at their first meeting. That meant that he spent most of the time to himself or riding behind the others in a brooding silence. He and Fenkrasko Rukal in particular didn't seem to get along very well at all. Growald always hated people dressed in finery and Fenkrasko's finely decorated armor and flamboyant mannerisms made him an instant target for the hardened and grizzled Seinari. Unlike Lamastus, Growald somehow knew Kruish and wasn't afraid to return the insults and hatred back at the Krue. Vekla and Zago didn't get along, either. After carefully questioning the others, especially Bronwyn, Syler found some of the problems, though even that didn't completely satisfy him. He could understand why Vekla, as a sorceress, would generally look down on a mere mage. He might even buy that she didn't trust him and thought he was trying to supplant her place as his connection to wielders of magic. He didn't want to see any problems within his ranks, but at least Vekla had mostly returned to her normal, glowering self instead of moping around like a dog that had just been beaten. She didn't quite understand what Zago's problem was. The man was mostly pleasant to the point of being almost flowery most of the time, but whenever Vekla came near, he drew himself up into a near fury and became caustic to everyone but her. For some reason, he never was anything but extremely courteous to her even when Vekla was around and he gave even her husband sour looks. He was absolutely chilling to Delmonor no matter what the situation was, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Gombel Hastag once mentioned that he thought that it might because the fairly weak mages resented sorceresses who were almost always more powerful wielders of magic. Wrendak claimed it had something to do with some long ago feud or something that stirred bad blood between the Saekorises and the Khaflars, but he wasn't entirely sure because mages tended to forswear their familial and clan bonds when they swore to the Daethas se Dalk'o'koene. Either way, Syler seemed pleased to have someone to keep Vekla in check and was content to allow the two wielders to sort it out among themselves as long as neither did anything to jeopardize anything. The others, for the most part, seemed to get along well. Sergeant Naedel kept the rank and file in line through sheer force of will and experience. One did not rise to the rank of sergeant among the Krue without the ability to control his men. He was always polite and respectful to both Syler and her, a fact that she greatly appreciated even if she didn't always agree with his methods of keeping the peace. On the third night, after a particularly heated argument, the rivalry between infantry and cavalry broke out into outright violence. Baelkar found himself beset by Fenkrasko, his friend Adbaek, and Jutimaen. The sounds of the fight were enough to quickly gain the attention of Syler who was about to intervene when Naedal, blocked his path with an upraised fist and motioned for silence. Syler opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of that and quickly closed it. The four men fought on for a minute with Baelkar getting the worst of it. He managed to get in a few blows, but being so badly outnumbered was too much for him to last much longer. Bronwyn was about to ask the sergeant why he allowed the fighting to continue when the odds were so badly against Baelkar, but she quickly realized why. Out the shadows, the lithe form of Relwind emerged and tackled Jutimaen to the ground before he even knew she was there. She moved with tremendous speed and was able to inflict several hard blows against the scout before he was able to start defending himself. With a muttered curse, Wrendak decided to join the fight on behalf of his fellow cavalryman. He wasted no time in lashing out against Relwind and allowing Jutimaen to get back on his feet. Baelkar was able to go on the offensive against his two opponents, but he was already fading from blows received at the start of the fight and it was clear that the entrance of Wrendak negated whatever advantage Relwind had brought. Baelkar's offensive quickly reversed itself and Relwind was hard pressed against Wrendak and Jutimaen. At that point, a new figure stepped into the ring, one that greatly surprised Bronwyn. Lamastus, with a smile on his face, stepped forward and gestured to one of the Krue who hadn't yet joined the fight. She had not noticed any problems between him and Feldthas, but the warrior didn't hesitate to charge straight at the Angvardi with a loud cry. Lamastus moved with speed and skill that Bronwyn did not know that the guardsman possessed. It took no more than ten seconds for him to lay Feldthas flat and turn his attention to freeing up a besieged Baelkar. Lamastus proved to be absolutely devastating in a brawl. He finished off both Fenkrasko and Adbaek before turning his attention to the two who were attacking Relwind. The fight lasted only about two minutes after Lamastus joined. When it was over, a mostly untouched Lamastus stood over the groaning bodies of his foes beside a battered but defiant Relwind and an almost entirely spent Baelkar who just barely managed to stay on his feet. Naedel barked out commands to the others to tend to the fallen then turned away to see to other business with a grim smile of satisfaction on his face. Syler, too, seemed pleased with the results of the fight. He was an infantryman himself and, though he had not gotten involved in the long standing dispute between the two groups, he had told her on more than one occasion of his sympathy for Baelkar and Relwind. The next morning, whenever any of the three victors of the fight looked at the more outspoken of the cavalrymen, they received only silence or downcast eyes. There was no more talk of the superiority of those who rode or the worthlessness of those who fought on foot. Even Lamastus managed to gain some measure of respect and acceptance for his prowess in that fight. Despite the many schisms within the ranks, the others seemed to get along just fine. Though it didn't need to happen nearly as frequently as with horses, there were times along the way that they had to rest the hasuan by allowing them to slow to a walk. Due to the speed the animals traveled when at gallop, it was all but impossible to hear anyone with all the wind blowing in their faces. Those times were the only ones during which anyone could talk. Jutimaen was almost always out scouting the way ahead and two others were two hundred or so yards to either side keeping an eye out, but the others were free to mingle as they pleased. Syler and Bronwyn on Ment'fa'haehl found themselves the center of most of the conversations and interest. Pastal seemed to enjoy spending time near them and was mostly pleasant company. Despite having biceps larger than Syler's thighs, Pastal had a good enough sense of humor and entertained Syler on more than one occasion by trying to learn the Common Tongue. Hearing him butcher its pronunciation with his atrocious Kruish accent was enough to bring a smile to her's face as well, even if she never lost patience with the warrior. She was always glad to help others learn and realized the value in having more Krue who could understand Syler. Whenever Syler laughed too hard at the poor pronunciations, she only pointed out how poorly his own attempts to learn Kruish were going to silence him. Jaquiil, sitting behind Delmonor, was frequently involved in those impromptu language lessons. He spoke a little of the Common Tongue already, but was eager to learn more. As the only non-warrior other than Bronwyn, he was an outsider. His skills at cooking gained helped, but he was not a warrior and no amount of cooking would fully bridge that gap. She came to like the boy and enjoyed the time shared in preparing meals for the others. He tried to stay apart at night, but Syler wouldn't let him. He felt a sort of kinship with the Alchemist and frequently asked the youth questions about Kruish herbal practices. That caused the youth to perk up almost as much as Bronwyn helping him learn a bit more of the Common Tongue did. "Tradition or not, this is still not wise," Vekla said firmly. She was standing three yards in front of Syler with her arms crossed in determination and her eyes widened in frustration. "To go to such a place invites ambush." For once, Bronwyn was inclined to agree with the sorceress. She was beside her husband, trying to keep herself from taking his hand and openly pleading with him. This discussion had long since devolved into an argument and it was not going well. "I don't like this, Syler," she said softly, though it wasn't easy to keep her voice under control. "She is right, if the Angvardi know of this, then they will likely be watching in hopes of trapping escapees." "That may be, but it is something I have always dreamed of doing," replied Syler calmly. Lamastus was standing between the two of them, but a little off to the side. "I am forced to concur with the sorceress. I know General Saveron's tactics. If he knows of such a place—and rest assured he does—then he will use it as a trap." Vekla's eyes fell upon Lamastus and narrowed. She didn't seem to like it one bit that they were on the same side of any argument. Even then, she was a practical woman and was willing to take help where it came. "Where is the wisdom of going into a place you know to be a trap?" "We have no proof that it is a trap," said the gruff voice of Growald. Apparently, something as petty as visiting an ancestral site was enough to bring the two Sei together. They had forgotten their long history of bickering and rivalry as soon as Lamastus and Vekla began voicing their concerns about Syler's plan to alter their course and visit some site sacred to his people. Syler nodded at that and added, "We will let Jutimaen get a good look at the place before we approach, and we can set a watch. It won't be long and the risk should be minimal." "And yet, there is a risk," said Lamastus. "Would you so carelessly endanger your sister's freedom by getting yourself killed or captured over this?" Much to Bronwyn's relief, that gave Syler pause. She could see his entire body tense up at the very thought. "We are so close, Syler," she urged. "We should be on our way before it grows dark and we are forced to stop." Syler looked almost willing to give up when Growald spat on the ground and said with a challenge in his voice, "There are some things that can be treated like warm ale and passed over, some that can't. Our people have followed this custom for hundreds o' years for good reason. This ain't something that can be avoided." "He is inthaley now, he is above such requirements," retorted Vekla. As soon as she heard those words, Bronwyn knew that was a mistake and that their argument was lost. Syler's eyes flashed and his jaw clenched. In bringing this argument to a competition between Kruish tradition and those of the Sei, there was only one outcome Syler would choose. At first, he didn't say anything, but when words finally did come, they were cold and hard. "I am a Sei, Vekla. My father was a Sei, as was my grandfather and all forefathers that came before. You have your practices, I have mine. I would no more skirt the Pillars than spit upon my father's grave. I will have no more discussion on the matter." Bronwyn sighed and lifted her head to look at the ring of grey stone pillars that rested atop a hill a mile away. They had been travelling almost directly west since finding Lamastus. That route, according to both Growald and Lamastus, would take them straight to Sua Opeganeat. Nobody had any objections until they reached the border where Syler directed them to veer off a little to the south. According to Syler, the Pillars of Nar-Goraan were ancient beyond anything else in either kingdom. They were relics from before the time when the Zazaspi dominated Teladia. Little was known about where they had come from or who made them, but it was suspected that they were the ancient ancestors of both the Sei and Sua peoples. The two nations fought over control of the location for hundreds of years before finally coming to an agreement that neither would control the stones. Unequivocal peace had been declared at the spot and surrounding areas that neither side would violate. Any who wished to pilgrimage there were to be allowed to do so regardless of station or the political strife between the two nations. Over the following centuries, a tradition had developed that whoever passed this way was required to go and pay homage to the location so that they could honor their fallen ancestors and pray for the maintaining of the peace that protected the location. It was that last part that had driven them here. Syler and Growald both wanted to pay homage to the tradition and it had caused no small amount of alarm from Vekla and a few of the other Krue. It was extremely likely that the Angvardi knew of such a tradition and would leave men laying in wait to capture any who approached the Pillars. They wanted to avoid the place and those risks altogether, and Bronwyn agreed with them. Vekla took one look at Syler's face and snarled in anger. She flung her hands up and stormed off. Bronwyn regarded the woman's brazenness with envy. It would not be proper for her to react as such to a decision her lord husband had made, especially not in front of his men. "I fear that we will come to regret this decision," she said coldly. Syler reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she wasn't feeling especially open to signs of affection right now and shrugged the hand off. He frowned and said, "I am sorry, Bronwyn, but this is something I have to do." She wasn't convinced. "This is something you have chosen to do, not something you must do. Nobody is going to say you don't honor your ancestors in the face of this situation." Growald opened his mouth to say something, but a deadly glare from her silenced his words before they were given life. While slowly shaking his head, Syler replied, "Were this a different matter, I would agree with you, but it isn't. This is one of the most sacred rites to my people and it is not something I can simply abandon." "But why? You know it is dangerous and likely a trap, why would you willingly go into it?" "Because it is my duty as a Sei to honor my ancestors. Many of my people shed blood and gave their lives in this place to protect and honor it. How could I flee in fear in the face of such bravery and strength? I can no more do that than you could disown your own people." She gave a small harrumph and shook her head. "My people are wise enough not to place tradition above reason when it endangers them. The Kutii only spill blood when there is something worth fighting for, not for some rocks in the middle of the wilderness." Syler blanched at her words and was entirely taken aback. He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "Well then, pray tell the last time your people were able to meet mine in open combat and emerge victorious? If your ways were so superior and warriors so strong, then why is it that your warriors always fled at the sight of the Seinari marching? At least we put up a fight and held off the Angvardi for many months, Kutiim fell in less than two and without any major battle to show for it." Bronwyn was shocked at his remark, shocked enough to allow her jaw to drop and openly gape at him. In all the time she had ever known him, he had never made such a blunt and insulting remark regarding their people's bitter rivalries. It was true that her people, the Kutii, had long raided his, but that had never been an issue between them. Since he lived in the western parts of his kingdom, he had never been called out to fight her people nor lived in fear of a Kutii raid so he had never developed the hatred or fear of her kind. This was a stark change over the man she knew and she didn't know what brought it on. "Does that pile of stones truly mean so much to you?" she demanded. Before he had a chance to answer, she continued. "I hope you enjoy your time among them then, because it is sheer foolishness to go when you know the risks. I will go now and pray to the Spirits that your stubbornness does not cost Karusa her freedom and us our lives." Clenching her fists at her side, she stormed away before he could infuriate her more. Proper or not, she was angry and in no mood to consider what was proper. She didn't stop until she was well away from her husband, farther away even than the rest of the Krue. As soon as it became clear that an argument was brewing, the warriors had unobtrusively migrated away from their lord and his advisors to avoid seeing anyone dishonored. She didn't blame them and now wished she had the wisdom to have joined them. Perhaps then Syler would not have utterly disgraced himself with his biting tongue. She walked up to the cooking fire and sat down. Wrendak and Gombel took one look at her, said a few words quietly between themselves, and left the area. She was glad for that because she was hoping to be left in silence. That peace didn't last long before a woman's voice said, "Neltas, faeas." Bronwyn whirled around and snapped back sharply, "I am not your sister, sorceress." It was an instinctive response brought on by her sour mood and Vekla's constant badgering of herself and her husband. Vekla didn't seem to take offense, though. In Kruish, she merely commented, "[Are you not, Bronwyn Penion of Eagoria?]" Refusing to respond in kind, she said in the Common Tongue, "No, I am not, I am Kutii and you are of the Krue." Vekla's voice didn't rise, but remained surprisingly calm. "[i did not say we were of the same mother, but we are sisters.]" Bronwyn's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?" "[You and I will both sacrifice our lives to protect Lord Penion, am I right?]" "[i would do anything for him, even if it meant my dying,]" Bronwyn responded without need for thought. She may not be very happy with her husband right now, but she still loved him and owed him more than she could ever repay. The corner of Vekla's mouth quirked upward and Bronwyn belatedly realized that she had switched to Kruish without meaning to. The other woman sat down beside her and crossed her armored legs with ease. Vekla didn't voice her small victory, but kept her tone subdued and almost respectful. "[Among the People, when two women are willing to do anything, to suffer any humiliation, and to endure any hardship to the point of death for a third, that makes them sisters.]" She hadn't thought of that. It was not quite the same among the Kutii, but there were warriors who occasionally proclaimed one another blood brothers to signify a close friendship or mutual life debts. "[if you claim to care for Syler so much, why do you fight him so? You oppose him at every step, often to the point of inciting anger in us both.]" Vekla's eyes glazed over for a second and her cheeks reddened. She quickly snapped out of whatever thoughts she had and returned Bronwyn's gaze. "[i fight him so that he may be strong, so that he might survive. He is too new at leadership to stand for long without help. I must watch out for him and guide him as is my purpose. Look at the poor choice he made regarding these pieces of stone.]" Bronwyn scoffed at that, refusing to be baited by recent events when there was much more to be considered. "[This is bigger than just tonight. You bait him, try his patience, and spin your webs all around him. I hear of his frustration almost every night after his encounters with you and Growald. He is not pleased with the ways of the People and having to slay your father was particularly hard on him.]" Vekla's brows dropped and she frowned, but she didn't interrupt. "[You expect him to know and accept your ways, but that is not who he is. If you keep pushing him as you are, you will lose him entirely and he will reject everything you say. He may be ignorant of much, in your opinion, but he is a stubborn and strong man who is capable of doing things unimagined when people harm or threaten those he loves.]" Instead of raising her voice in anger, the sorceress considered her words before answering. "[You remind me of my father's words. Perhaps I am harsh on him, but I must be. What he does not see is what will kill him. He sets fires in the forest that I must go behind him and put out. He may be our Clan Lord, but if he is not careful, he will inspire rebellion. Too many do not trust an Outsider, even one who has shown the signs of prophecy's touch. Already, two have plotted to take his life before I destroyed them.]" Bronwyn's eyes widened at that news. If he knew about it, Syler hadn't told her about them. "[There have been plots against his life?]" Vekla nodded. "[There have been. My allies discovered them and informed me. I flayed their skin off and burned their flailing bodies until there was nothing but ash remaining. I hung their skins before their doors as a warning to all.]" She seemed proud of her work. Bronwyn felt a tingle of dread go down her spine. Her hand rose without bidding to cover her mouth in aghast horror at the thought of men trying to kill her husband. "[i did not know,]" she whispered. "[Of course you did not, I ordered it kept from you and Lord Penion,]" Vekla said matter-of-factly. That might explain why Syler hadn't told her. The hand that had been covering her mouth lowered and curled into a fist as it did. "[Why do you hide it from your lord?]" "[because he does not need to be further distracted. He already has enough troubles and worries to add more. I tell you only so that you may understand why I do as I do. I take no pleasure in being constantly humiliated by a man, even if he is the Magic Master of prophecy, but I am sworn to him by more than just duty. My bond is unbreakable no matter how much he may be foolish and make mistakes. Your bond with him is just as strong; that is why I call you 'sister.']" In a strange, twisted sort of Kruish way, it made sense. Bronwyn knew a good deal more about the Krue than Syler due to the similarities within her own people, but even the Kutii thought the Krue were odd. "[What bond is greater than the oaths of clan and the Ritdenmark?]" she asked. Vekla had sworn her life to Syler's service and she was the Guide of prophecy, bound by the Ritdenmark she wore. Vekla's cheeks colored once again and she looked away. It was very uncharacteristic for her to act as she was and Bronwyn was intrigued at what lay behind it. Vekla responded by saying, "[You speak the True Tongue well, even for a Kutii. Where did you learn?]" Bronwyn crossed her arms. She was not about to let the sorceress get off the subject and distract her. "[And you are adept at avoiding questions,]" she stated. The sorceress was on the verge of saying something before catching herself. Her face hardened slightly and her defenses began to return. "[some bonds are deeper than duty and stronger than oaths of fealty. Please, sister, do not ask further of me.]" Tapping a finger against her chin, Bronwyn considered what it was that the older woman was saying. Whatever it was, it was apparently enough to quell even a sorceress of her stature and temperament and cause her to pledge her life and energies to her father's killer. A sense of duty was one of the most important traits among the Krue, but this had to be deeper. If only Vekla was a normal woman, she may have some idea at what was motivating her. With a sorceress, one could never tell. She might be able to pull the information out of her, but at what cost? This was the first time that the two of them had been able to share any sorts of commonality, the last thing Bronwyn wanted to do was to shatter this opening. "[Very well,]" she said at last. "[i will accept your words, though they are not exactly what I am looking for. If anything, I have learned that most of the People are quite honorable. I must trust that you are among those who are because otherwise, I think that my husband would destroy you.]" After a small, almost unnoticeable gulp, Vekla replied almost meekly, "[i would never betray my lord. Better to die a thousand times in agony than to bring him harm.]" "[it will be hard enough to keep him from it as it is. He is stubborn and determined and those can be dangerous when mixed together. This latest decision should be proof enough of what I say. We both must watch over Syler because I do not believe he knows restraint where his sister or heritage are concerned. I have never seen him so determined to do something that his friends have told him is folly.]" "[i did not know he was so jealous of his heritage or I would not have broached the subject,]" Vekla admitted. "[i fear that being among the People has only strengthened his desire to retain respect for his ancestors. Sei do not venerate them nearly as much as adherents to the Spirits, but they still do respect them,]" explained Bronwyn. "[i suspect that the more you push for him to accept the ways of the People, the more he is going to resist and seek out his own past.]" "[Then what should we do?]" It was the first time that Bronwyn could recall the sorceress coming out and directly asking how to handle anything that was related to her husband. That fact was not lost on her, neither was the opportunity that had presented itself to finally gain an understanding between them. "[We must voice no more disagreements concerning the visit to his people's holy place,]" she replied. "[As foolish as it may be, I think it is something he needs to do. Your problem all along is that you have not learned how to pick your confrontations. Sometimes, in order to win the greater war, you must lose some battles or abandon positions without a fight.]" Vekla's brown eyes narrowed, "[This makes no sense. Never give in to the enemy, but push onward at every opportunity. We cannot afford to let him do this, even if his defenses are strong. This choice of his leads him to danger and if we do not change his mind, it could destroy us all.]" Bronwyn shook her head vigorously. "[As you said, his defenses on this are strong. We could not sway his mind by pressing him, we could only harden his resolve. If we push here and now, not only will he not yield, but he will be less likely to surrender in later arguments. Men can be stubborn, and Syler is destined to be the chief of men so his stubbornness outshines them all.]" Vekla nodded in agreement, though she didn't seem too pleased. "[You speak truly, my lady. I do not like his poor choice, but that will not change my duty to protect him from harm. I do not wish to unleash his wrath against me again. The first time was sufficient for me.]" Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Bronwyn couldn't repress a tight smile. "[Truer words could hardly have been spoken, Mistress Vekla. I fear for what he will do if he finds that Karusa has been harmed or killed. You did not see his wrath at Kubei, nor did you see his fury and determination in the face of his Elements. I saw both, either because I was there or because I see his nightmares each night. He is desperately holding onto his old self and yet, he cannot hold onto it for much longer. He knows this, but that does not stop him from trying. I believe this decision to be one of his last, desperate attempts to hold onto the man he once was. Indulge him in this and I hope he will be placated enough with the knowledge that he honored his elders to be open to compromise in the future.]" Vekla's face remained placid while she absorbed that information. "[He is young and ignorant of our ways. As much as he may wish to remain a village blacksmith of the Sei, he cannot. There are forces that would claim him, either to destroy his soul or to twist him to their own desires. If he does not adapt to the man he is destined to become, he will die and so will the world of mortals. He listens to you more than anyone, so you must help me in making sure he doesn't do something foolish.]" Bronwyn frowned and shook her head slowly. "[You say people want to twist him to do what they want. I am not so naïve as to disagree. Tell me though, Mistress Vekla, how is it that what others are doing any different than what you are doing? Do not interrupt me,]" she said with an upraised hand and a flash of anger in her eyes. As much as she wanted to make peace with the woman, there were some nagging questions that must be answered first. "[You work in the shadows clearing vile threats against him and for that, I am appreciative. But you are also constantly pushing him to do what you want, not what he wants. You want him to act according to how you believe he should act, not how he wants to act. Tell me, what is the difference between what you are doing and what you claim others will do to him?]" Vekla's head snapped back at the accusation and her eyes fluttered rapidly. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. She thought for a second before taking a deep breath and saying quietly, "[i do what I do to protect him, to guide him as is my duty set forth by the great Ritden. I don't do it for power or wealth, but to help.]" "[i would like to believe that, but you are going to need to prove that to me,]" Bronwyn replied reluctantly. Unlike Syler, she had grown up knowing how to keep secrets and knowing how to bear a burden. As a seer, she received visions of life and death and had to, at a young age, know what to speak of and what to keep to herself. Some of her village would gladly have done her harm if she had not been careful in what she revealed. Syler never had to deal with the burden he was now facing and was finding it hard to believe. It wasn't that he was ignorant of the danger this situation had put him in or the responsibilities entailed, it was that he simply didn't know how to handle it. He was trying his best, but sometimes people needed to let go of the past and move on. Bronwyn let out a long sigh and said, "[People will start coming for him and things are going to get very bad in a short amount of time. There is treachery in his future, that much I can see. I don't know where it will come from, but it is coming.]" The sorceress' brown eyes widened slightly. "[You have had a kvastat?]" "[There was a time when I had only one or two kvastati a season,]" Bronwyn replied wistfully. "[Now I have them almost nightly. Being around Syler has changed them—changed me—and I fear that it is not for the better.]" "[And these are of dangers to Lord Penion?]" asked Vekla urgently. Bronwyn nodded and tried to swallow down the growing lump in her throat. "[Most are. He will face terrible things of great horror and fear. Worse, I believe he will face treachery from the closest places. If I knew where they came from, I would act immediately, but I cannot yet see a clear picture of the future. Until I do, I must suspect everyone, even myself.]" With defiant tone, Vekla replied, "[i would never betray him.]" As comforting as those words were, Bronwyn knew she could not afford to believe them. Not even she exempted herself from suspicion, not with what her kvastati were showing her. She could stand here and say without hesitation that she loved Syler and would never do something to harm him, but destiny was a strange thing. She did not know for sure what could happen in the future to make her side against him, but she wasn't going to pretend that it wasn't possible. Even now, sitting here in front of a fire, there were some things that she could think of that might cause her conflict against him. What if they had a child and she was forced to choose between their lives? What if he changed too much for her to even recognize? What if he became drunk with power and started slaughtering innocents? "[Do not say that,]" Bronwyn whispered. "[You do not know what the future holds.]" Vekla began to argue, but Bronwyn cut her off. "[Would you stand by him if he ordered the utter destruction of Thwrud? What if he burned the Sacred Wood? Prophecy says he has the ability to save the world, but it also says he could destroy it if he desired. Would you stand by and let him destroy all of Teladia?]" "[That is why he needs us,]" Vekla responded quickly, too quickly for Bronwyn's taste. "[You have only just come into realization of what Lord Penion is. I have been preparing for it all of my life. There is a reason the Immortal Ritden created a Helper known as the Guide, and I believe there was a reason why the Guide has always been a woman and, more specifically, a sorceress.]" She sat up straighter and fixed Bronwyn with a proud glare. "[There are ways that sorceresses know of that you do not. We have knowledge and skills that are not widely known and it is for a reason we wield them. Lord Penion is a strong man, no doubt, but he is not invincible. I am here to make sure he stays on the correct path and if he does falter, I am here to either put him back on it or to end the threat he poses to the world.]" "[so then, you admit, you could betray him if the circumstances are correct?]" said Bronwyn accusingly. Black braids flew as Vekla shook her head vigorously. "[Never. I could never betray him. If I ever have to raise my hand against him, it is because he has betrayed himself. If those terrible things you described come to pass, then I believe the Lord Penion of now would want me to put an end to it before he caused harm to a great number of people. In that way, I would not be betraying him, but rather saving him.]" Bronwyn hadn't considered that before, and that chilled her down to her very bones.

I know, I waited too long on this. For that, I am sorry. I had hoped for a major burst of inspiration, but life has conspired against me. There are a lot of changes I am having to make and I am not sure how I want to address them all. I know the ultimate direction, but the individual turns that are needed to get there are confusing. Nonetheless, I have finished the next two chapters and have a good idea what is going on in Chapters 4 and 5. In this chapter, instead of jumping through it in a paragraph or two, I actually play out Syler's team finding Lamastus. I also get to show a little of the weight that Syler is feeling upon his shoulders and start the fun antics between Lamastus and Vekla. This chapter also starts a trend I will be developing when it comes to dealing with Syler. In OWMM, I tended to have the chapters involving Syler come from his perspective. I did that in Chapter 1 here, too. Now, I am changing. Most of the chapters involving Syler in the rest of the book will be from other character's perspectives. The next few will be from Bronwyn's perspective because that offers some interesting options for me. It allows me to start showing how others are reacting to Syler's presence rather than just what he is feeling. It also provides a distinct change in how I write, especially since two of the people closest to him are women (Bronwyn and Vekla). _________________ Chapter 2 From the Darkness The Sei have proven to be a stubborn people, but they are not beyond seeing reason. The great majority have fallen in line, but there are small numbers who have fled to the wilderness. I have already sent numerous squads out with the purpose of hunting those who have rejected the Way down and returning them to the life of slavery they have chosen. — Report to Lord Tishnon, governor of Angvardi occupied Sei Five Miles West of See Sei Angvardi Province of Sei October 30 Syler squinted in the setting sun as he scanned the scrub forest for signs of Lamastus. He stood up in the saddle, trusting on his hasuan mount, Ment'fa'haehl, to remain steady. It was growing late and he was worried that the Angvardi defector had already left. When he had set out from Thwrud almost a month ago, they had agreed that he would wait for Syler to catch up until the last day of October. Lamastus' early departure had been a necessary gamble, one that Syler dearly hoped paid off. Bronwyn sat behind him, but her eyes weren't on the horizon. She was focused on her husband, and she wasn't entirely happy at what she saw. Worry was his constant companion now and was so unlike him. Even with the weight of living under the constant eyes of the Angvardi in Kubei, he had always found time to smile and enjoy at least a little of life. Now, he seemed driven with a sort of manic urgency that she had never seen before and it almost scared her. Syler's leg had been injured in his duel with Lord Saekoris and he was unable to ride or walk until it healed. That, and the need to solidify his new rule in Thwrud, had forced him to delay for more than three weeks. Lamastus had offered to go ahead and infiltrate the Angvardi garrison in See Sei to gain access to the scribe's records. There, he hoped to find out where the Angvardi sent the single women of Sandrin, the village where Syler and his sister grew up. Upon conquering Sei, the Angvardi had taken most of the single men and women and moved them to another location. There, they had been forced to marry strangers with the warning that if they did not produce a healthy child within a year, both would be enslaved. Syler and his friend, Havert, had been taken from the battlefield where they fought to the Kutii city of Kubei. Syler had been forced to marry Bronwyn just as Havert married Alltis. Syler and Bronwyn had come to love each other over time, but not all of the new couples felt that way. She knew that Syler was extremely fearful that his sister had ended up with a man who did not love her or treated her poorly. When fleeing Kubei with a terribly wounded and cursed her, Syler had initially made for Sandrin. Growald and a small troop of resisting Seinari soldiers had intercepted him and informed him that all of the single women in Sandrin had already been taken away, but that he didn't know where to. It was Lamastus' job to discover where they had been taken so that Syler and the Krue with him could retrieve her and take her to safety. The only problem is that now they needed to find him. They couldn't just light a huge fire and wait for him to approach because that would draw the attention of any Angvardi patrols. They had spread out in a wide line and began searching in pairs, hoping that he would see them and reveal himself. "Do you think he is still here?" she whispered. "What if he was discovered and captured?" Syler groaned and she knew that he still refused to consider that his friend might even be dead by now. The subject had come up more than once on their journey and each time, he changed the subject or even walked away. It wasn't that he didn't have a backup plan for if Lamastus failed to get the information. If Lamastus was unable to discover where Karusa had been taken, Syler and Growald, being the only two Sei among them, would enter the city. They would have to carefully ask around without rousing suspicion. If that didn't work, then they would rely on Growald's network of spies among the Seinari. If Syler didn't think much of the first plan, he definitely didn't give that last one much chance for success. "He is here," Syler replied firmly. He always showed such trust in his friends. Normally, it was something that she loved about him, but at times such as this, it was frustrating. "Just keep your eye out." They continued to search in silence for another hour, but it was getting too dark for much hope. The hasuan were perfectly capable of continuing in the darkness, but their riders wouldn't be able to see much and any attempt to light torches would draw unwanted attention. With the sun already well below the horizon and the sky dimming to a dark blue, Syler called off the search. Bronwyn was glad that he wasn't going to press them into the night. As the sun had been dipping lower and lower, she had began to fear that he would do just that. She remained quiet behind him, but her arms were tightly wrapped around his waist to offer her support in what she knew was a difficult decision. "Maybe he had already set out to return to Subeleth," she speculated, trying to give him at least some hope. "Perhaps," replied her husband without much belief in his voice. "We will find a place to camp and then start trying to track him tomorrow." "It will be okay, Syler. We will find him and then we will get Karusa." Syler didn't respond, but stared out at the dark shapes of rolling hills and scrubby trees and bush. "I shouldn't have sent him out here alone," he muttered. "I fear that I may have sent him to his death, and I am not sure I want to bear that burden." She frowned, though she knew he couldn't see it. "He is a soldier, Syler, and he wanted to help. He volunteered to come out here on his own and he knew the risks. You didn't force him to do anything." With a slight sigh, he replied, "If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have been in this position in the first place." "No, he would be among the Angvardi continuing to support Governor Uthas and his torture and tyranny," snapped Bronwyn angrily. "What happened to us was enough to snap him out of the blindness that tied him to that bastard of a man. Not all Angvardi are corrupted, I know, but too many of them are perfectly willing to follow men such as Uthas even though he orders them to do evil." "And am I any better when I order executions or pass hard judgment on others?" "Of course you are," she quickly responded. "You are not perfect, but you at least want to do what is good and right. You don't torture people, either. I can't say the same about Uthas." Syler shook his head slowly. "I may not, but those who follow me do." She blinked a few times at that and asked hesitantly, "What do you mean?" This time, it was his whole body that shook slightly. "Nothing," he said dismissively. "I am tired and stressed. My mind is playing games with me and I should be more careful what comes out of my mouth." Bronwyn opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when she heard the sound of an approaching rider. The cutting voice of Vekla interrupted Syler's vain search. "The Angvardi has failed you." She seemed pleased, not exactly a sentiment that would get far with Syler right now. Vekla was dressed in the same black armor she almost always wore, highlighting her esteemed position among the sorceresses who had attained the Black. Her face was covered completely in dark blue war paint as it was whenever she thought there was even the remotest possibility of violence. Her long black hair was done up in a multitude of small braids that were all tied up with a piece of black leather to keep them out of her way while riding. "So it may seem," he said flatly. "You placed too much trust in him," the sorceress said smugly. Feeling Syler tense in preparation for a confrontation, Bronwyn acted quickly and said, "We took too long in arriving. Tomorrow, we will start retracing our steps to catch up with him before he returns to Subeleth." Vekla's mouth twisted in a smirk for a brief moment before she schooled her features. "Shall I give the order to look for a campsite?" "I believe Sergeant Naedel can do that," said Syler harshly. She didn't like that, but neither did she seem to want to fight her sworn lord. "As you command, bwet ley." Her hasuan twirled around to withdraw, but before she heeled the steed, Vekla turned and looked straight at Bronwyn. "We can only hope that no harm has come to Lamastus Fean of the Angvardi." "Awww Mistress Vekla, I never knew you cared," a voice called out from the darkness in front of them. As one, all three of their heads snapped toward the direction of the voice. There was a little rustling in the brush before a shadowy human figure began to take shape. Vekla lifted her palm and a small orb of greenish light emerged above it. She flicked her wrist and the light went out toward the figure. Lamastus' curly black hair framed his grinning face as he swatted at the light. "No need to blind me here, sorceress." The light flickered and dimmed to nothingness after a few seconds. "Lamastus!" cried Syler. He swung a leg over Ment'fa'haehl's back and jumped to the ground so he could rush to his friend. Lamastus took the giant hug without flinching. "Good to see you too, my Lord Penion." Syler released him and took a step back. "Don't you start with me on that," he said admonishingly. "It is 'Syler' and nothing but 'Syler' for you or I will throw you in the stockades. Did you get what you came for?" With a smile, Lamastus said, "Of course." He tapped the tooled leather vambrace on both of his forearms. Bronwyn belatedly remembered that those were the signs of rank taken off of the body of the dead operative Governor Uthas had sent after her. She hadn't been conscious when that happened, but saw them in Thwrud at the dinner where they planned this venture out. "These things worked like a charm and got me what I needed. They took the women of Sandrin to some gods forsaken village called Sua Opeganeat. I have maps to get us there and back," he added as he patted the side of his chest. Bronwyn was just as eager to get off the towering hasuan as Syler had been, but she was having a bit of a problem doing so. Hasuan who had been trained for war refused to accept the command of any who was not an experienced warrior. If anyone tried to handle their reins except a warrior or someone who handled them as a pony, they would react quite violently. It was okay for a non-warrior to ride on one as long as there was a warrior at the reins. It was one of the small oddities about the animals that not even their Kruish trainers could unravel. As she was not a warrior, Bronwyn was now stuck on top of Ment'fa'haehl without Syler there to placate the creature's temperament. "Um, Syler," she said hesitantly as the mare began to stop her hooves in agitation. Vekla, seeing her predicament, snarled and pulled her mount close enough to grab Ment'fa'haehl's reins while muttering a curse beneath her breath. A bit louder, she said, "Kathosel gradak." "He may be impatient," replied Bronwyn evenly, "but he has good reason to be." Vekla didn't look convinced. "He should not have left you, it is dangerous." Syler, belatedly realizing what he did, ran back to help her down. "You are right," he said to Vekla. "In my haste, I forgot that hasuan are not like horses." That got a sniff of indignation from Vekla, but she did nod in acceptance of his contrite words. Once she was safely down on the ground, Syler hugged her briefly and said, "I am sorry, I won't leave you stuck like that again." In the meantime, Lamastus approached Vekla's black mount and said in a cocky voice, "So, did you miss me, mistress sorceress?" Vekla glared daggers down at him and shot back, "It is only for the sake of bwet ley'os fadeas that I sought you." Rather than be offended, Lamastus smiled and patted her hasuan's nose while ignoring the frown on her face. "See, I knew that you cared. You probably dreamed of me every night, didn't you?" Even Bronwyn could tell that Vekla didn't quite know how to respond to this. She wasn't used to people who treated her like this and didn't display a healthy degree of respect or fear. That this mere guardsman wasn't the least bit afraid of her definitely put her in an uncomfortable situation. Vekla was, if anything, resourceful and quick on her feet. She may have hesitated at the surprising turn, but she recovered quickly. "My dreams of you only were of the ways by which I plan on killing you." "I knew it! You do dream about me!" Even in the dark, Bronwyn could see him wink up at the sorceress. "Just give it a few more days and you won't be able to resist my charms." "Did you ever know of the charm I once made that could cause a man's brain to boil and spill out of his ears?" she shot back. "I believe I can still remember how to craft such a piece." Lamastus didn't even hesitate. "At least you acknowledge that I possess brains enough to be worth melting. If you truly viewed me as beneath you, I wouldn't even get that much." "Have you no sense about you, Angvardi! I am a Sorceress of the Black, not some Haresu tramp." Her voice rose in anger and lightning began to crackle between her fingertips. "You should be on your knees before me, begging for my mercy and praying to your heathen gods to accept your soul when I send you to them!" "Vekla!" said Syler in a firm and most displeased voice. Lamastus chuckled as he lifted his hand up to forestall any further response from Syler. His voice had lost the playful teasing he had been using and had returned to a serious tone. "No, that is quite good. I can respect a woman who is honest." His eyes met Vekla's. "You don't like me, that is clear. You serve Syler in your way just as I serve him in my own way. As long as you remember that we both serve Syler and that he needs both of our skills, I trust that you won't act on your dislike of me." Vekla snorted and kicked her heels to urge her mount away and into the night. "I will collect the others," she called out behind her. "You shouldn't antagonize her," Syler warned. "I am her sworn lord and am immune to magic, but you are not. Push her hard enough and she may very well decide to roast you regardless to what I may order." Lamastus shrugged, "That is where half the fun comes into it. People like Vekla don't respect anything but might and strength. I can't hope to match her magical skills, and from what those who escorted me out of Subeleth told me, she is pretty good with a blade. I have no doubt that the two of us are going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future while working with you. Unless I want to be regarded as a subordinate, I need to establish that I am unafraid of her and to engage her in one battle that I am pretty confident I can win in." Syler looked unconvinced. "And what is that?" "Banter, of course. She may be more than a match for me on the battlefield, but I wager that I can take her to task by talking circles around her." Bronwyn was curious now, "Why do you care at all about what she thinks of you?" "Ahh my dear Lady Bronwyn," he said with a flourishing bow. He gently took her hand and kissed it before continuing. "I care because she is a powerful person, an important person and I need to learn how to handle her." He shrugged. "Take Growald, for example. That is a man who responds to nothing but brute force. He runs on emotion and spite with no intent on changing his ways. He is also too stubborn to accept defeat through force, which makes him difficult. He doesn't like me and never will because I am an Angvardi. Since I cannot gain his respect by beating him in force and I can never win him as a friend through any amount of words, I will not waste my time trying to court him. "But Vekla is not like Growald. She may hate me because of where I was born, but she is also practical. She is smart enough to know that Syler will need friends if he is to survive so she is open to forming alliances even with those she may dislike as long as they are loyal to Syler. Like Growald, she respects only those who are strong. Unlike Growald, she is smart enough to realize that brute force is not the only strength. I cannot defeat her in pure strength, not with that magic she wields. I can only defeat her in spirit, to show her that I am not afraid nor that I will be some sort of pathetic sycophant to be pushed around and tossed aside." Syler's eyes were narrowed and a frown burned the corners of his mouth downward. "You gathered all that from one night?" Lamastus chuckled. "We travelled with Growald for a while and he isn't too hard to figure. Vekla was a little more complex, but I have seen her type before. Not a sorceress, mind you, but people with power. You would be amazed at what you see as a guard." Syler still didn't look convinced. "What makes you think she has power?" The Angvardi adopted a hurt expression, though Bronwyn was sure it was mostly for show. "Please, Syler, my friend, do not wound me so. She is a sorceress, the daughter of the former clan lord, and she is a warlord. That woman was born to wield power and knows how to do so quite well. Besides, we were all there when she laid down the law in the Inthadaeka and forced the nobles to bow before you." "Why would you care at all about being her friend?" asked Bronwyn. Lamastus smiled. "Not friend, my lady. Ally. If I am not mistaken, she has already began to influence your husband's decisions and exercise her power among the elite of Thwrud." He glanced over where Syler was still frowning. He didn't respond, but just stood there looking unhappy. At the confirming silence, Lamastus nodded and continued. "I don't fancy myself as a politician, but neither do I want to spend the rest of my life as a mere guardsman. As an Angvardi, I need all the allies I can get because being friends with Syler isn't sufficient to keep my skin intact if things start going the way I think they will. Vekla has a part to play in Syler's life, that much is clear by the enchanted pendant she wears. Even more relevant, Syler is my friend and he is someone who I believe will be the salvation of us all when the Coming Darkness arrives. If he is that important and she will be important to him, I want to make sure I am not tossed aside by her. If I can get at least some of her respect, then perhaps she will keep me informed of things that she or her eyes and ears discover. Anything that makes my life easier will allow me to watch out for and protect your husband better." She arched her brows in surprise. There was nothing she could finger as being wrong with his assessment. It was almost creepy at how well he had read the situation, especially since he had been absent for the last three weeks of happenings in Thwrud. "You seem to have thought that over a good deal." "Why not? It Hours and hours of standing guard over vain politicians with nothing better to do tends to lead to two types of people: the dullards and the observant. I find daydreaming or staring endless at a blank wall to be a complete waste of life. While standing there or even patrolling the streets, I keep my eyes and ears open and hear whatever I can. Then, at night, I think about what was significant about everything I saw that day. Working on the puzzle of what was going to happen in Syler's court occupied many cold nights here alone in the wilderness. Besides, it wasn't like I had anything else to do while waiting for all of you to show up." "Sorry about that," Syler said, trying to change the subject. He was clearly uncomfortable at all of this talk of politics and intrigue, especially since it centered on him. "There was a lot of work to do and my leg kept giving me fits." Lamastus dismissed the apology and accepted the change in subject with a single wave of his hand. "Speaking of that, how is your leg now? You don't seem to be having any problems with it." Syler couldn't stop himself from looking down at his left leg where Lord Saekoris' blade had cut down to the bone. "It has its good days and its bad days. I don't let the pain slow me down." "Wounds like that take time to heal, my friend." "Not if you can have someone use magic on you," muttered Syler with a bit of bitterness. Lamastus clasped Syler's shoulder and said, "Well, I would think that a few weeks of hobbling around is better than being roasted by that fireball that Mistress Vekla send hurling my way on our first encounter. I still owe you for that, by the way." Syler harrumphed, but he couldn't stop a small grin from softening his face. "Well, if you do your best to keep politics away from me, I will consider that debt repaid in full." "Oh my friend, you can't be thinking like that this early in the dance. You have not even begun to learn the steps to the Dance of Intrigue." Bronwyn chuckled. "You seem to think yourself a master of the Dance, and here I had always thought of you as a guardsman who was better with a sword than with words." Shaking his head vigorously, Lamastus said, "I don't claim to be a master of it, but I am not completely unlearned in its ways. I am, however, a quick study and I think we will all benefit from that fact in the coming months." Syler sighed and took the Ment'fa'haehl's reins in hand. "Well, Lamastus, you dance a dangerous dance if you want to tangle with Vekla. I think it only fair to warn you: she and I have not been exactly on the friendliest of terms of late." He climbed atop the hasuan and secured the reins to the pommel so he could help his wife. He reached down and helped Bronwyn get up. It was no easy task trying to mount a beast as tall as a hasuan and she was not sure she could have done it without his help. Once she was settled in a somewhat comfortable position behind him, Bronwyn heard the sound of the others approaching through the darkness. As soon as they were together, they could find a suitable place to camp and start making plans for their next step. That would put Syler much more at ease and perhaps clear up some of the constant worry that plagued him. If Lamastus heard them, he didn't pause his conversation for it. "Well, then it might be even more important that I manage to get on favorable terms with her just in case she decides to turn on you." "She is too loyal for that," said Syler dismissively. "If she is anything, she is too stubborn to be anything but undyingly loyal to me. It is one of the things I admire most about her because it can be said of so few others around me." "'Nobody is beyond reproach and nobody is incorruptible,'" Lamastus quoted. "You can't afford to think like that, especially around people who are angry with you and probably have their own agendas. You killed her father, for the gods' sake." "In her own, strange way," Syler responded, "she thinks that was entirely necessary. We have spoken about it and she bears me no ill will." Bronwyn wasn't so sure about that. The Angvardi killed her father and she still hated them. Even though he wasn't the one who did it, there were times when she looked at Lamastus and felt that same hatred flowing through her veins. Vekla was a warrior, there was no way that she could completely bury her feelings about what Syler did to her father. Lamastus eyes met hers and she knew that he felt the same way. "As you say, Syler. You have known her longer than I have." "Yes, though that doesn't mean I am always right. If you think you can handle her, then she is all yours. It would be nice to have someone hounding her after all the times she has been after me." Adbaek arrived first, though his friend Fenkrasko wasn't far behind. Both held small lanterns that had angled sides to deflect the light downward and minimize the amount that could be seen at a distance. Adbaek took one look at Lamastus and asked, "Kota fos graneth, daush?" This is him? "Pasu," replied Bronwyn. "Kota fos Lamastus Fean se Angvard, najhaat torleias se Inthaley Penion." Yes, this is Lamastus, a loyal friend of Syler. The two Krue didn't seem impressed, but he didn't react too negatively. Lamastus met their glares without flinching. He smirked a little at Fenkrasko's ornate and gaudy black and red armor. Seeing them together, even if Fenkrasko was sitting nearly three yards higher than Lamastus, Bronwyn couldn't help but notice how well used Lamastus' armor was. "Seem like hardy lads. They might be good in a scrap, but only if the fancy boy here is willing to muss his pretty armor," he said with bemusement. Bronwyn rolled her eyes at his brazen attitude. Taunting Vekla was one thing, but messing with a bunch of warriors like these was going to get him many bruises and broken bones. Fenkrasko didn't know what was said, but he did catch the attitude and wanted to know. "Neith haelin gran kodanin?" What did he say? Bronwyn hesitated in the translation because she didn't want to cause any further problems. "Gran tevaltueth nuath junmash o dhal yus." He admires your strength and armor. It was exactly the complete truth, but in a way, Lamastus did admire the armor's finery itself even if he thought it was mostly for show than practicality. The Kruish warrior nodded in acceptance at her translation, entirely missing the look Lamastus gave her when it was clear to him that she had not accurately translated his insult. He smiled mockingly at the Krue and gave the men a sloppy salute with two fingers to his temple. The Krue seemed satisfied and turned their attention back to Syler who remained silent throughout the exchange. Their lord sat up atop Ment'fa'haehl and gazed out into the near darkness where the sounds of others approaching could be heard. Even though Bronwyn knew he couldn't speak their language and they couldn't speak his, she didn't think he would have said anything even if that were different. His jaw was set and his eyes were distant, almost glazed over in thought, a sight all too common for him these days. The others arrived in small groups until all but Sergeant Naedel had joined them. Delmonor explained that, after receiving word that Lamastus had been located, he was out looking for a suitable place for them to camp. Syler acknowledged that with the slightest of nods, nothing more. While they waited, Lamastus went back out into the scrub to gather his own meager supplies and horse. It didn't take too long before the old officer approached the rest of them and led them all back to a small hollow that would provide enough cover for small cooking fires. Once they broke camp, Lamastus was eager to get into the thick of things. He didn't seem much worse for wear considering he had been camping out alone for a week and a half after having found the information needed and leaving the city. Now that they were settled down, Syler began querying his friend more closely than before. Lamastus waved off any of Syler's concerns about difficulties by saying that the two operative vambraces had all but cleared the way for him to find out where the women from Sandrin had been taken without too any questions asked. Nobody wanted to get in the way of an operative who could kill anyone for any reason at any time if he felt his mission justified it. Bronwyn busied herself in unpacking her and Syler's saddlebag when she heard a string of curses and the sound of swords being drawn. She gasped and grabbed for the dagger on her belt, fearing an attack. As soon as she looked around, she realized that it wasn't an attack from outside, but rather a confrontation between Lamastus and several of the Krue. "Well," muttered Syler with resignation in his voice, "that didn't take long." She followed him as he rushed over there and shouted, "What is going on here? Put away your weapons now!" The Krue, whom Bronwyn recognized as Fenkrasko, Adbaek, and a bare chested Wrendak hesitated only a moment before complying, but Lamastus didn't. "Lamastus," said Syler, "that means you, too." "Sorry, friend," he replied. "They are trying to kill my horse and I am not about to let them." "What?" exclaimed Bronwyn. "That can't be right." She switched to Kruish and translated Lamastus' accusation to the Krue. Others began to join them, wanting to see what the fracas was about, but they stayed out of it. It took a minute, but Bronwyn finally got the whole story. When they stopped with their explanations, Syler looked at her expectantly. "Well?" he asked. "Tell me that Lamastus is wrong." She shook her head and said, "No, he isn't. They were trying to kill the horse, but not out of spite." Lamastus scoffed, but she silenced any further outburst with a glare. "They told me that, since there is a hasuan for Lamastus and that any horse would only slow them down, that it was best to slaughter the horse here so we could have some fresh meat. It is either that or leave it behind, something they view as a waste when it is perfectly good meat." "They want to eat my horse?" cried Lamastus with bulging eyes. "What kind of people are these?" Bronwyn frowned at him. "What do you mean? Horseflesh is quite good if properly cooked." "You eat horse?" gaped Lamastus. "Do you not have any sense of what is proper food? Next you will tell me that it is okay to eat something like rats or hawks." "That is just stilly," she replied. "Of course it is not proper to eat hawks." He relaxed a little, but she wasn't finished. "Hawk meat is only meant for the Spirit guides." Even Syler shuddered a bit at that, but it was Lamastus who cried out, "What is wrong with you people? Just because it is meat doesn't mean you have to eat it!" "Hawks are the oracles of the Spirits," Bronwyn explained. "They are pathways to learning what the Spirits wish for us. The Spirit guides consume the flesh of hawks only when in a sacred circle seeking the guidance of our ancestors." "This is true," said Mage Zago. "Even the Krue know this." "I don't care," exclaimed Lamastus. "You can eat whatever you want, but you are not going to eat my horse." "Let them," said Syler solemnly. "What!" "I said to let them," he repeated. "We have no way to take the horse with us because we will be travelling to fast and far for one to keep up. That means we have to either leave it behind or eat it, and I for one would rather not waste resources." "That is barbaric," said Lamastus. "Why? Do your people not eat the flesh of a cow?" asked Zago. "Yes, beef is a staple for us, but what does that have to do with this?" the Angvardi shot back. "Well," the mage replied with a shrug, "meat is meat, is it not? As long as it is not the flesh of man, then it is acceptable. Some meat may have their proper time to eat such as hawk and salmon, but all meat is permissible to man to consume. The Spirits have willed it." "You are disgusting," said Lamastus, but he was more frustrated than angry. "Don't bring the gods into this." "Would you rather the horse be left in the wild to be picked up by an Angvardi patrol or die of exposure?" asked Syler. For a moment, Lamastus looked like he would rather say yes than disagree, but then after a growl of anger, he sheathed his sword and threw his hands up. "Be it upon your own heads," he said. "Do what you want, just don't expect me to eat it." He stormed away from the gathering, though most of the eyes in camp were still upon him. Vekla, who had until this point remained in the shadows, stepped into his path and quipped, "What is the problem, Angvardi? Afraid of a little meat?" He arched a brow at the sorceress and replied evenly, "Don't you get started on me." She gave him a bitter smile. "As you desire, Degal Tinzke." Lamastus stiffened at her words and for a second, Bronwyn thought he would strike her. Instead, he bowed his head in acknowledgement and said with a fair amount of grace, "So I am." The black haired woman seemed surprised at Lamastus' reaction, but didn't press her advantage and allowed him to retreat back to the other side of camp while his horse was butchered. With one last smirk, she returned to her bedroll. "What a merry band we are," she heard Syler whisper under his breath. "This is going to be a lot of fun indeed."

Do what needs to be done. If you must narrow your focus, then do so and do not look back.

Fixed those things. And, it was Growald, not Lamastus because Lamastus is still waiting for them to get there. I think you need an ownership apostrophe here. From the prologue, the proper usage is "its" and it is the possessive word. The word "it's" is ALWAYS "it is." http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/its?s=t

Sorry for the delay. There were a lot of decisions I had to make regarding how to start this thing, most which will affect several chapters. The book will be, like the first one, divided into two parts. The first part is titled "Rescue and Repercussions" and will deal mostly with events in the north. That means mostly Syler (in Sua/Sei), Uthas (in Kutiim/Kubei), and Alltis (in Subeleth/Thwrud). The second part will take place after those events (due to the need for time to travel) and will cover events in the east and south. That means Amberis/Raella (Terula City), Valinc (Enhorpe/Nuran's Keep in the East), and Aitin (in central Terula). Spoilers for whoever didn't read the original first draft of the One Who Masters Magic: Anyway, on this chapter. I took major portions of the last chapter of the last book and put it here. I replaced the stuff removed in the last book with a small segment featuring Aitin (the prophet who was captured) beginning his return journey to Terula City and imprisonment. I tried to give a little bit of background, as well as reintroduction of the players so far. I originally had a ton of background and summarization of the last book. Then, when I reached 4000 words, I realized that it was just too much and people needed to read the first book to get it all. I scrapped that and added Bronwyn's vision, something that was originally slated for the next chapter. I am glad that I included it here because I think it may add a bit of tension and apprehension about the future. To clarify the vision (which is super critical), there will be a LOT of deaths in this series. I mean it: a stinking LOT. Seriously. By the end, of the nineteen (the seventeen in this chapter plus Lamastus and Karusa) that are part of this expedition with Syler, there will be only three left standing at the end. By the end of this book, I expect at least five or six will be dead, maybe more. The rest will begin falling off one by one as war, treachery, and attrition take their toll. I have said again and again, I definitely have a George R.R. Martin (Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones) like approach to characters: everyone is vulnerable and even your favorite characters can die off. I am not going to whack any super major characters at this point, but by Book 3, bodies will be hitting the floor (except those who are vaporized in big explosions or magic). I have said before that I expect no more than a quarter of the entire world to be left at the very end with entire kingdoms being engulfed in sheer destruction and cities melting to the foundations. That means that a great deal of characters will also fall and not all of them have Syler to bargain with the Immortals for their souls like Bronwyn did. I mean it when I say the world is getting a lot more dangerous for everyone involved, and it will only continue to do so until the few and lucky remain. With that cheerful note, let us dig into the meat of the second novel. ______________ Chapter 1 Vision of Nineteen Woe to the man who stands between the One and those he loves. His wrath will level mountains and fill in lakes. Any who oppose him will fall in ash and ruin. Better to grovel at his feet in abject humility than take up the sword or spear against him. — Of Those Who Mourn by Sage Du, supposedly inspired by a conversation he had with an unnamed prophet in 3E 813 The Clanfree Road, 31 miles from the border Subeleth Angvardi Province of Sei October 26, 1049 Third Era The day had flown by for Syler Penion. He had known that hasuan were fast and had incredible endurance, but he had not expected to get so far in such a short amount of time. It had been a wild ride, but at least it had been mostly peaceful with few incidents along the way. He and those with him were on course for meeting up with Lamastus outside See Sei as planned, even if they still had to cross the Upper Mastar River. They were camped for the night a hundred or so yards off from the Inthajuqwael Ouath they had spent the day travelling on. The Inthajuqwael Ouath, which could be translated as "Free Clan Road," was one of a large network of roads within Subeleth Woods that was open for any Krue of any clan to use. According to long standing tradition, no man or woman on the road could be harassed or threatened in any way, even if travelling through territory of a hostile clan. That protection implied that the people on the road were not attempting to use its neutrality as an advantage in an inter-clan war, but only the most dishonorable of Krue dared to do that and were normally punished severely by the rest of the clans. He had grown up fearing the Subeleth Woods just like everyone not born there who had any lick of sense did. Subeleth was home to the mighty Krue and they did not take kindly to trespassers. Atop their mighty hasuan, they were a nearly invincible foe. The hasuan looked like a horse except they were one and a half times the size of even the largest horses and were faster, stronger, and had better endurance. The other distinctive difference between the two species of equine was the single, long horn that grew out of their foreheads to be as long as three feet. That horn was frequently sharpened by their riders and was as deadly as any lance in combat. Yet, Syler now personally owned six hasuan and could call upon thousands of Kruish cavalrymen if he desired. The dozen or so warriors around him at this very moment had sworn to give their lives for his and he had no doubt that each and every one of them would do so without hesitation. He shuddered at the very thought of someone sacrificing themselves for him. He was not worthy of anyone's life. He stared at his wife with love and longing. Bronwyn was huddled over one of the small fires trying to warm her hands while tending the broadleaf covered stones that were heating up their dried fish and a handful of vegetables. Her long, light brown hair was done up in a single braid that went to her upper back so it wouldn't get tangled while riding. In the darkness, he couldn't see her brilliant green eyes, but he had spent plenty of time staring into them to know what they looked like. Her skin was smooth and completely without blemish after he healed her with magic a month ago. Even the calluses she had earned helping him in his forge back in Kubei had been replaced with fresh, new skin, something she was not too happy about. There was someone worth dying for and he would gladly give his life for her. There was nobody, not even his sister or himself that he cared more about. He would do anything for her, anything at all, and he had proven that by challenging the Immortal Elements for her life. She had been cursed by the Easterners after escaping imprisonment in Kubei and was nearing death. When faced with living without her, he choose to follow her into death on the smallest hope that he could move the Immortals in control of her soul to spare her. They had relented and in doing so, showed him just how important they thought he was. According to them and several people whom he trusted in these things, he was the legendary Master of Magic, the One prophesied for almost two thousand years. He wasn't sure what all that meant, but it had something to do with standing against the malevolent Immortal forces destined to invade the Mortal Realm in what many called the Coming Darkness. How he was supposed to fight Immortals who could not die was beyond him, but there were plenty of people, including the Kruish warriors with him, that believed it enough to swear fealty to him. He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted was to find his sister, get her to safety, and live a nice quiet life with his wife in peace and happiness. It was probably utter naivety to think that, but he was a simple blacksmith, not a great warlord or wizard. Let someone else get the glory and all the pain that came along with it. A long, uneventful life suited him just fine. There was some sort of commotion on the other side of camp that brought Syler out of his thoughts. He scrambled up, grabbing his sword along the way, to see what it was. When he got there, he noticed that everyone had assembled and was staring straight at him expectantly. Belatedly, he noticed that even Bronwyn had left the food to cook and joined them while he was deep in thought. "Bwet ley," Delmonor Zaverl said with a quick bow. "It is now proper for the ley to inspect his champions." Delmonor was the captain of Syler's personal guard and a man whom he had come to trust and like. Even though he was a large, burly man with a long beard done up in twin braids who liked to drink and eat too much, he was a decent person who had no reservations about serving his new lord. He spoke the Common Tongue almost fluently which definitely helped Syler because he frequently served as his translator. Unlike many of the men and women who had come into his life since becoming lord of Thwrud, Delmonor had no interest in politics, only in protecting Syler and eating his fill. "Okay," replied Syler uneasily. "What does that mean?" The Krue sometimes had strange practices and while a normal inspection wouldn't be a problem, this lot may expect some sort of display of strength or something that would pose a problem. "They each wish to receive the attention and respect from their ley," answered Delmonor. "Go and meet them, smile as they show you weapons or scars, and show them that you trust them to protect you and carry out your will." "There aren't any blood rituals or strange things, are there?" Delmonor blinked a few times in confusion and shook his head. "No, what do you think we are, barbarians?" Syler arched a brow, but refrained from pointing out that he had been forced to fight the previous lord of Clan Thwrud to the death in order to fulfill some sort of Confirmation or whatnot and inherit the position. He let out a deep breath and said, "Let us get on with this, then." Though he hadn't paid much attention to it back in his haste to leave Thwrud, he realized now that those gathered before him were quite different from each other. Since this wasn't a regular military unit, each man had been allowed to wear and carry whatever armor and weapons they were most comfortable with. All had at least one spear and most carried swords or long knives, but there were other weapons among them. They were hardly uniform in appearance or mannerisms, either. Almost every one of them had at least one thing to make them unique from the others. The first, who went only by Pastal, carried a giant war hammer with a head that he guessed weighed fifteen pounds. When Syler commented on how difficult it must be to wield such a heavy weapon, he twirled the massive piece of steel as though it weighed naught more than a normal spear. Even under the mail shirt he wore under his leather outer armor, Syler could see the bulging muscles. Syler was a strong man from his years of pounding at iron and steel in a forge, but he believed without a doubt that Pastal was much stronger than he. The man looked like he could bend metal bars with his bare hands. Another, Gombel Hastag, had a most impressive beard that he had actually managed to weave into no less than seven different braids. Despite the moderately heavy scale armor he wore, the man's skin was a patchwork of scars. He had a wicked looking eight flanged mace that Syler could see had almost as many scars and marks on it as the man who wielded. He also seemed to have a penchant for knives because he wore a belt that had half a dozen different knives stuffed in it and had more on his belt. When he heard his name spoken, he gave a proud and genuine seeming smile that revealed that he was missing his upper front two teeth. The third to be introduced happened to be the only female in the group. Relwind Hastor was not an unattractive looking woman, that is, if you were able to ignore the ghastly scar that covered much of her left cheek. Syler had first met her shortly after being forced to kill Lord Avenil Saekoris on the day he ascended to the position of Lord of Clan Thwrud, but had never expected to see her again. According to Delmonor, she had worked relentlessly to train her body and skills so that she could join his personal guard. When word came that Syler was going out to find his sister, she had jumped on the opportunity to become part of that quest. She had beaten out dozens of other warriors to get a spot here and was extremely proud of that fact. She was one of the few here with a bow slung over her shoulder, though she also had a sword belted to her hip. Delmonor introduced the next warrior as Fenkrasko Rukal. At first glance, Syler could only picture him as one of the extremely vain and prideful lordlings from Havert's stories that always ended up being a complete fool and getting everyone killed. The man was young, but that wasn't a problem since most warriors were. It was his attire that made Syler think what he did. Fenkrasko wore almost stylish blood red and black leather with brushed steel polished to a shine separating the colors. The cuirass wasn't exactly normal for the Krue who preferred jerkins or brigandines over mail hauberks because of the added mobility. Syler was curious about why he would wear a heavier cuirass and especially one so awkward and brilliant as what he had on now because it seemed unlike the Krue as he knew them. Even the man's demeanor seemed to substantiate Syler's initial impression of him because, when he was introduced, he gave a strangely formal bow better suited among the Sei. His flourishing movements caused a few of the others to snicker, but nobody actually said anything aloud. His weapon of choice was a massive, two handed sword strapped to his back. Such a weapon was a direct contrast to the fluid motions of its bearer because swords of that size were normally meant for broad strokes that cut through opposition rather than avoiding it. Syler was forced to trust Delmonor that this man was a good enough warrior to have passed the trials and tests the others had to. Syler actually stopped Delmonor during his introductions to inquire further about a peculiar warrior who wore nothing but a thin, untooled leather jerkin. Through a hasty conversation, Syler learned that Wrendak had sworn that he would never wear armor because it was an unfair advantage to his strength and speed. Syler initially dismissed the man's claims as foolishness until Delmonor told him that Wrendak had fought in three inter-clan wars and had acquitted himself bravely with multiple kills in each. That seriousness was reinforced by the deafening lack of snickering during Wrendak's explanation. Unless Syler was mistaken, there was an eerie pale blue glow coming from the man's sword. It was just barely visible where the hilt met the sheath, but it was there. Naedel Kadathil was perhaps the oldest in the group. Syler guessed he was in his mid-forties and looked grizzled and lethal enough even without being introduced as a former sergeant who came out of retirement to join this quest. He was a hardened veteran of many battles against other clans and tours along the border against outside invaders. He gave Syler the standard Kruish salute of a fist over his heart, but nothing more. There was no smile of acknowledgment when his lord passed by, just a blank face. He had two hand axes on his belt along with four slightly smaller throwing axes on a bandoleer strung around his shoulders. Syler might not have found the man's stoic attitude particularly endearing, but on the battlefield, he wouldn't be needing smiles and bows. If this man was an officer, then it was very likely he earned that position the hard way, and that would make him a valuable addition indeed. Feldthas Maeothuq was a common enough looking warrior with an unremarkable beard and standard light Kruish armor usually found on mounted warriors. His hair was a shade of brown that none would notice in a crowd, even among the typically lighter haired Krue or Kutii. He wore a sword and long knife just most of the others. Syler's mind sort of wandered over the man until he met the other's eyes. He blinked twice and paused for a split second before continuing. He didn't know if anyone else noticed, but one corner of Feldthas' mouth rose a fraction. The man's right eye was brown which was unremarkable in any way, but his left eye was unmistakably blue. Syler didn't know what caused such a thing, but it was more than slightly unnerving so he quickly moved on to the next man. Even Syler, with his limited knowledge of Kruish ways, knew that the most respected and honored Kruish warriors rode hasuan into battle. Baelkar Fondag was an infantryman and he made every attempt to proclaim that fact. Syler immediately recognized his heavier scaled armor dyed with the red that he had seen infantry officers wear. It was too heavy and cumbersome for mounted warriors who preferred lighter, more flexible protection. Even the man's weapon was there in defiance of the cavalry officers. He carried an eight foot pike that had the last two feet covered in steel with a nasty barb at its tip. It was a weapon designed to take down horses and perhaps even their larger hasuan cousins. Everything about the man was defiant, proud, and confident in himself, but not in an arrogant way. With the exception of Relwind, Syler thought he was the only other warrior here who wasn't part of the cavalry. What this man had to do in order to attain this honor must not have been easy, especially when Syler considered that infantry typically outnumbered the cavalry four to one among the Krue's hasuan dependant army. That only two from the infantry stood before him told him that they did not have an easy time against the cavalry despite their numbers. Syler's brows went up when he noticed a thin, wiry man who looked almost diminutive next to the much larger warriors standing beside him. The man's face was ordinary without any real distinguishing marks on it. Even his light brown hair was a shade that was most common among the Krue. He had leather armor on, but there was not a single piece of metal anywhere to be seen. When asked his name by Delmonor, the man shrugged and said calmly that it was Jutimaen Zankhuel. As he said it, his hands did go to the twin short swords at his belt, but otherwise he made no other expression or gesture of acknowledgment that Syler's attention was set on him. Delmonor shrugged and mentioned that Jutimaen was one of the best scouts they had and was absolutely deadly within an enemy camp in either dark or light. If Jutimaen offered almost no reaction to Syler's inspection, Adbaek Faqin made up for it with his beaming smile and enthusiasm. The man was literally bouncing on his heels and couldn't stop bowing when Delmonor told Syler his name. Syler smiled in bemusement when Adbaek's long sandy hair kept getting in the man's face, but the warrior didn't seem to notice. He stopped after several bows, but then proceeded to fiddle with his odd quarterstaff. The weapon, all of six feet long, was made of thick polished oak with half a food of steel on each end. At both points sat a metal ball the size of both of Syler's fists clasped together. Syler wasn't exactly sure how effective such a weapon was, but he could imagine that it would not feel pleasant to be hit across the head with one of those balls. He had already met the others. Growald, the burly, bearded Seinari officer who had managed to get a promotion sometime after the events in Kubei two months ago, was standing off at the edge of the campfires with his characteristic snide look on his face. Though he was from the same country as Syler, Growald had been a Seinari, a member of Sei's professional army. Syler had fought in the army, but only as a conscripted militiaman. The two of them had not gotten along very well at all and had even come to blows multiple times. The only reason why Syler tolerated his presence was that Growald was somehow connected to him through prophecy as his Guardian. Growald wasn't the only one not to mingle with the others. Vekla Saekoris was the daughter of the late Lord Avenil Saekoris whom Syler killed in single combat to become the clan lord of Thwrud. She was the only Krue Syler had seen that had black hair and he wondered if it were natural or something related to the sorcery that the woman was a master of. Syler didn't claim to know much about sorceresses, but he knew that Vekla was among their most skilled and powerful. In the month that he had spent in Thwrud, the two had butted heads more than once over all sorts of things ranging from how he should spend his time to his policy decisions. He respected her knowledge and needed her power and influence, but he had made it clear that he was no puppet to be played by her and she had not taken well to that. Also in the mix was Jaquiil, the apprentice healer. Jaquiil was a quiet, bashful lad of only seventeen years who was no warrior, but came along to apply his skills as an alchemist and healer. Syler felt some level of kinship with the boy because his own father had the gift of Alchemy, considered the lowest of all magical skills and looked down by most. Syler knew the importance that alchemists played in the smaller villages where healing mages or wizards were not to be found. They had the ability to take a mixture of herbs and chemicals that normally would do little or nothing and make them into a powerful potion that could heal, protect, strengthen, or enhance abilities. Many a farmer or shepherd had been saved by the healing potions of alchemists and Syler was glad to have the boy along. Not only that, but the boy was rumored to be an excellent cook, something Syler was eager to test with the dinner his wife was helping make. The last of their merry little band was Zago Khaflar. The young man was roughly Syler's age, but had grown up a mage instead of a blacksmith's apprentice. He was a Mage of the Red which put him about the middle of skill and power, but that was apparently considered good for his age. Syler wasn't entirely sure of the man because, unlike everyone else here, he had not sworn allegiance to him. Mages among the Krue were not under the Inthaleys, or Clan Lords. Instead, they held loyalty to the Daethas se Dalk'o'koene, the Ring of Thirteen. The Ring was an independent entity beholden only to itself and with no responsibility to any singular clan. Ideally, this meant that mages were free from the often violent struggles between clans, but it also was used by mages to ignore commands from lords whose lands they were in. Vekla didn't trust Zago at all and had argued against his inclusion, but Syler wondered how much of that was rooted in the rivalry between the various organizations of magic. So far, the man had done nothing to give Syler second thoughts and could prove useful if they ran into trouble. As soon as all the introductions and inspection was over, it was time to eat. Bronwyn, despite the protests of some of the others, had done most of the work in preparing baked vegetables and dried fish fillets. She had added some of the juice from the vegetables to the fish to soften them up and give them flavor, but that paled in comparison to what Jaquiil had done. The boy had helped her with some sort of concoction that left Syler's taste buds tingling. Truly, the boy had skill in cooking and had already proven himself worthy of being included in Syler's opinion. After everyone had eaten their rations—with many sighs of contentment and pleasure—Syler began preparing the camp for night. Naedel, despite having been retired for some years, quickly sprang into action and respectfully began correcting what Syler had started. Syler was smart enough to realize that he lacked the knowledge and experience in this area and gave the old sergeant a free hand in arranging the perimeter and setting a watch. Nobody questioned the grizzled old veteran as he began barking orders as though he had never been retired. Growald caught his eyes briefly and gave him a nod of approval at his delegation of authority. Syler didn't exactly enjoy such sentiments, but at least the Seinari wasn't going to argue with him. Being the lord had the advantage of not having to stand watch, and that was something Syler would take full advantage of. Tucked inside the small, low tent that had been erected for him, he was grateful for that fact for more than just getting unbroken sleep. The wind outside was downright cold bordering on miserable. The early winter didn't seem to bother the Krue or Growald, but Bronwyn was suffering. Bronwyn couldn't help shivering despite the warm wool coats and furs she was wrapped in. She was not used to traveling in this type of weather as it was only this cold in Kutiim in the dead of winter. Syler himself was not immune to the cold, but he was wrapped in armor and two cloaks that kept him reasonably warm, plus he had a beard to protect his face that Bronwyn didn't have. They were huddled together in their cloaks wrapped under two fur blankets with another thick one below them to insulate them from the cold ground. Syler had taken off his armor, but was still covered neck to toe in warm wool just as Bronwyn was. Despite the tent and the small fire pit at their feet, it was too cold to do anything but hold each other closely. With his leg healed and mood lifted now that they were finally off to save his sister, Syler found himself looking lustily at his wife. Looking was all he was able to do, though. Bronwyn was more than comfortable with snuggling up next to him, but she insisted on wearing the heaviest of her wools even in bed to ward off the cold. Besides, Syler figured there was no possible way that Bronwyn would be willing for anything more while surrounded by warriors with nothing but a single layer of canvas for privacy. It was late and their fire had faded to no more than glowing embers when she stirred in his arms. It wasn't much movement, but it was enough to wake him up. Ever since first coming to Thwrud, he had become a light sleeper. Perhaps that is what killing people did to a man, or perhaps it was the weight of responsibility that had suddenly fallen upon his shoulders. Either way, her uneasy shifting was enough to wake him up. She was panting and there was the sheen of sweat on her forehead glistening in the dim light coming from the moons. Even though he couldn't quite finger how or why, there was a tingle creeping down his back that caused the hair on his arms to stand up. It was something he had noticed before when sleeping with her, but it had never been this profound. "What is wrong, my love?" he whispered softly into her ears. She jerked when he spoke and tried to roll away from him. She wasn't very successful at that, not with the layers of furs and his arms securely around her, but Syler was curious as to why she would react like that and repeated his question more forcefully. Bronwyn stopped trying to pull away after a few seconds, but she didn't quite sink back against him either. Instead, she remained tense in his arms. She remained silent for a while, perhaps hoping to wait Syler out, but he didn't budge. Every second she hesitated told him that something important was going on. That odd feeling was fading, but he knew his wife well enough by now to know something was wrong. When she spoke, there was pain in her quiet voice, "I just had a kvastat, a powerful one." Syler took that news in silently, waiting for her to continue. "I saw you standing on the edge of a cliff with all of the world before you. Eighteen figures were standing there with you, each with different glories and fates. I knew that I was one of them, as was another woman whom you loved, but not romantically. The others were those who were with us, including Lamastus. Some had glory and great things surrounding them and I knew they were influential and strong individuals. All had strength and all had spilled blood." Her voice faltered for a moment, but she continued on. "Then, I saw some of them fall over the cliff. Time passed and then there was a great darkness that filled one half the world. The other half was lit by a brilliant light and the two fought to dominate the horizon. More and more fell until only two remained standing defiantly with you." She twisted her head to look at him in the dim light. "I am afraid, Syler. I am among the group that stands with you, but I do not know if I am among those few who remain standing. Even more terrifying is that all of those who fell did so in violence. Not a single one died peacefully in their bed surrounded by those they loved. It was so terrible, Syler, so terrible." In the darkness, Syler could just barely make out the tears that were forming at the edge of her eyes. "Hush, Bronwyn, I am here and I won't let anything happen to you." He pulled her close against him and held her tightly in his arms. "I know it must have been bad, but it is over now." "No, Syler," she replied. "It was a kvastat. Kvastati are always true no matter what. They might be interpreted differently, but this left no room for error. I know that of those nineteen people, only three will survive what is to come. That is horrible, absolutely horrible, and I can't do anything about it." "In war, people die. That is the way of things. We know the Coming Darkness is, well, coming, and there is nothing we can do to stop it." "But why must so many suffer?" she asked. Had he not been lying down, Syler would have shrugged. "I don't know, but I do know that what must happen will happen. This world is in for a terrible awakening. I can only hope that there will be enough people who will band together that we will have enough power to fight back. How we can fight against Immortals is beyond me, but from what Lord Saekoris said, we will have some allies among their kind. I don't know what I am supposed to do, so until I do, I will work to protect those I love. I will do anything to protect you and Karusa, anything." She relaxed a little, but not much. "I know, Syler. That is part of why I love you. But I don't like the thought of all this death. I haven't had a kvastat that spans that long before. Most only foretell what will happen in a year, maybe two. This seemed to be longer, or maybe it was just because so much happened. Not everyone dies at once. It seemed spread out among a long time and in ones and twos. Whoever these people are, they will play important parts in the fate of the world. That much I am sure of." "Then maybe it isn't all bad," Syler said. "Not everyone gets a chance to be important. Everyone has to die sooner or later, at least these nineteen had a chance to do something with their lives before that time came. Besides, at least we know some of us survive, right? That is better than nobody at all." She relaxed a little more, but not completely. For a long time, she was silent. Syler thought that she might be going back to sleep and began dosing off himself. Just before he was about to slip back into sleep, she whispered hoarsely, "You won't let me die, will you?" He didn't hesitate to answer firmly, "I would fight the Immortals themselves to keep you safe, my love. If your vision was right, there are two who survive along side me. I fully intend on one of those two being you." She accepted that with a nod as she curled up closer to him and fell back asleep. He held her through the night as she slept, keeping watch over her until the sun rose.

Okay, the prologue is now ready. I have absolutely no doubt that it will undergo many changes, but I wanted to get a rough draft up for some feedback. As before, instead of starting the story proper, it focuses on a key event in the past, one that will have some bearing in the novel itself. It may not be obvious (yet) what part the One Who Masters Magic's Prologue has, but that will reveal itself. This one sheds light on both an old player (the Order of Sages) and a new one (the Coalition of Balance). It also mentions the Loganate who will play their part in the future. A note: I have decided to go back and name all the chapters. I did this for the last book and am continuing it for this one. Therefore, the chapters will all have names from now on. __________ Prologue An Equitable Treaty Sometimes, a ruler must accept that there are some things beyond their grasp. To ensure the stability of their domain, they must give those things up or face consequences too terrible to contemplate, much less tempt. —Enlightened Sage Aq, at the signing of the Equitable Treaty of Balance, 3E 153 Goteip Hastil Falls Kingdom of Yaitil 153, Third Era Low, solemn bells tolled in the background as dignified men and women waited their turn to sign the treaty that had taken the better part of six months to write. It had been difficult to come to an agreement when almost nobody at the table trusted one another. That nobody was completely satisfied meant that everyone was willing to sign, but not with pleasure. Extreme measures had been taken to get everyone to the table and nobody was willing accept the consequences of not signing, not when so many lives were at stake. "We will never again see so many powerful and influential people gathered together in one place," predicted Sage Ku as he subconsciously straightened the brown robes of his Society. The historian in him was just itching for a quill and parchment so he could write the names of all that were gathered down for posterity. "You may be right," said Sage Ru, a fellow member of the Society of Tomes, from beside him. "It is a most delightful day, a true achievement of the Sages for us to see this." The Sages, respected by all except the near barbaric Voeasi and the eternally disagreeable Zatesad Nomads, oversaw the proceedings to ensure that everyone behaved accordingly and violence didn't erupt. No weapons were allowed anywhere near the encampment—a policy enforced by an entire company of neutral but very capable Kruish warriors—but that didn't stop those gathered from attacking each other with fists, teeth, or whatever blunt objects of sufficient weight that could be found. Already, the Krue had been forced to expel three diplomats for violence and another for being found out as a Loganate agitator. The meetings had come to a standstill three times while tempers flared, but long discussions with the Sages brought everyone back to the table once they cooled off. "Do you think it will last?" asked Sage Ku. He knew that most treaties only worked for as long as the fear remained in those who signed it. "I do not know," replied Enlightened Sage Aq, the head of the Society of Intrigue. He approached the two historians and politely acknowledged their bows. It was his providence to guide those Sages who studied politics and the art of negotiation. Among those of their Order gathered here today, he was preeminent. "It will only work if they realize the devastation that could befall them for their failure," commented Sage Na, also wearing the black of the Society of Intrigue. "We can only hope that King Negaler and Emperor Faquez realize how close they have come to utter destruction." Sage Ku shifted in the brown robes his Society wore and mused aloud, "So much has been accomplished here, surely they would not be eager to shed each other's blood despite being enemies." Men and women who otherwise would have never been caught dead in the same room glanced at each other with relief that the ordeal was over. Eighty years of war and bloodshed had come to an end here in the middle of the Kingdom of Yaitil in an unimportant little town of Hastil Falls. Here, three of the largest armies to ever be gathered in a thousand years, had met to decide the fate of Teladia. Over a million men were encamped within ten miles of this very spot, all of them ready yet hesitant to spill a tide of blood that would forever stain the lands. "You know the histories," replied Enlightened Sage Aq. "When has mankind ever truly refrained from violence?" Sage Ku had to admit that the examples were few and far between. "Surely their appetite for death has been sated over the last decade. I would have thought that Gartell's War in all of its futility would have taught the East a lesson about the pointlessness of war, but here we are just seven years later and it has come to this." With a sad shake of his head, Sage Na answered, "We tried to counsel against war in the West, but both rulers were eager to gain at least some land in repayment for all the lives lost in their pointless war against each other. That is why they turned on the seemingly vulnerable West." "They are all foolish," added the new voice of Sage Hi. He wore the blue of the Society of the Sky, one of the lest represented at these talks. Those who studied nature and medicine rarely had anything to do with war other than to heal those who could not receive the attention of the Mages or Alchemists. Sage Hi had always been considered erratic in that he occasionally studied the practices of the other Societies. "Do you care to explain yourself?" demanded Enlightened Sage Aq with an uncharacteristic touch of annoyance in his voice. "One cannot fully heal all maladies," answered Sage Hi without a pause. "There are some that must be simply contained or kept under control. Mankind will always strive for violence against one another, it is our nature to do so. I fear that the honored Sage Ku would be eager to tell us of the many cycles of war that have broken out between the nations or even within singular nations themselves. "The Angvardi and the Terulans will forever be at each other's throats. The Western nations will also always be at war amongst themselves. The Society of Intrigue may be able to avert this trend for a time, but in the end, war will wage because it must rage. Mankind has an innate violence within them that can only be caged up for so long before it becomes ravenous. It took a thousand years for the East to notice the vulnerability of the West and strike. We can only hope that it takes another thousand for them to remember it." "But wouldn't the West just ally again and throw back their attackers as they did this time?" scoffed Sage Na. Sage Ru spoke up with a response, "What happened here was unique. If the Westerners had not maneuvered the Angvardi close enough to the Terulans to force a standoff, they may have been overwhelmed by the two Eastern armies. If they hadn't been so successful here, in two or three years, most of the West would be under the control of one of the two Eastern powers." "That," Enlightened Sage Aq said bitterly, "is not something we would ever want to see. The bloodshed would be tremendous and the destabilization of the natural order of things would take centuries to resolve. The Westerners are not used to the yoke of control that being conquered would place on them. There would be unending rebellions and many more deaths." "Then we should bless this Coalition of Balance?" asked Sage Ku. Enlightened Sage Aq's eyes narrowed beneath the black hood of his Society. "Any group or organization that has the power to capture the heirs or spouses of so many rulers is one that should never be taken lightly. The fallout from the dozens of lords, ladies, and military officers that were assassinated by them has caused considerable instability as it is. I would shudder to imagine what such a Coalition could accomplish should they wish only to sow chaos rather than the balance they claim seek." To this, Sage Ku was forced only to agree. The Coalition of Balance was a new player in the Dance of Intrigue. In addition to capturing royal family members, they had struck assassinated many key nobles and military officers of multiple nations in both the East and West, all apparently on the same day. Six months ago, a lone messenger arrived into each of the three great army camps gathered around Hastil Falls with a bag full of tokens to present the gathered kings and generals. Each token was a personal object from one of those who had been captured, proof that the bearer was with those who had taken them and proof that it wasn't one of the other armies. These messengers delivered simple terms: make peace or be destroyed. "To think," mused Sage Hi, "that they actually claimed to be able to replace all of the major leaders of every nation with ones more amicable to their way of thinking if their demands weren't met. It would be a ludicrous statement if viewed separately from what they had already accomplished with the captives. The planning and coordination that must have gone into such an attack must have taken years to plan." There was no mistaking the grudging respect in the sage's voice. "At least they are following the Path of Wisdom," Sage Ku dared to say. Despite the different purposes and areas of study among the Order of Sages, all of them adhered to the principles of the Path of Wisdom. Peace and equilibrium were among the central pillars of the Path when it came to world affairs. "For now," muttered Enlightened Sage Aq. "For now." He looked out across the room as the last of the gathered leaders signed the treaty. "I am concerned over the actions of the Loganate. One of their agitators was caught attempting to infiltrate these meetings. Wisdom be blessed that he was caught and expelled, but they will be trying to undermine this treaty and destabilize everything we have built here before the ink even dries." "Then we must be vigilant against them," rang out a deep voice from behind the Sages. As one, the five Sages turned to gaze upon a man in thick black cloaks that only partially concealed the golden scaled armor he wore beneath them. A scabbard was at his belt, but there was no weapon within. Even members of the Coalition of Balance abided by the rules. The Kruish warriors guarding this town were not to be trifled with. "Indeed," answered Enlightened Sage Aq with a small dip of his head. Though it wasn't a nation or even a noble house, the Coalition deserved respect if only for the deftness it wielded in bringing the belligerent leaders to the negotiation table. "Does the Coalition have any plans for containment, Guards-General Agatoseur?" The public leader of the Coalition nodded. "We have many agents tasked with tracking these Loganates down and destroying them. I have full confidence in the ability of my men to contain their anarchist threats." There was a smile on Sage Hi's face, though not his eyes, when he commented wryly, "Yes, we saw how you handled the war here. I am sure the Society of the Tome will write many, many volumes on what happened here over the decade." Agatoseur didn't even blink. "As long as there are people left who would care to read such a thing, I will be satisfied. If the East decides to press its war here again, I do not know if they will ever be stopped. I trust you will not disagree with me when I say that, even in victory, only disaster would await all." "You have no disagreement from us," replied Enlightened Sage Aq after a brief pause. "The Path of Wisdom desires peace and enlightenment for all, not war and chaos. As long as the Coalition stays true to its purpose and enforces the treaty in the West, the Sages will ensure the East does not march westward." Sage Ku wanted to ask whether the guards-general thought the Westerners would honor their part of the treaty never to unite and pose a threat to the East, but he didn't dare interrupt two who held preeminence over him. "We will do our part," replied Agatoseur testily. "It is your kind that fill me with doubts. Do the Sages have what it takes to do what is necessary to stop the East if it comes down to it?" If he took offense at the implications, the Enlightened Sage did not show it. "We will do our part, Guards-General. Do not fear of that." "I would hope so," the Tegan warrior responded. "It took four years to plan what was needed to stop this war. It is fortunate that we foresaw the growing aggression coming from the East and made preparations. Next time, we may not be so blessed." Enlightened Sage Aq sniffed in indignation, "Rest assured, guards-general, the Sages will do their part to prevent the East from repeating this mistake as long as your kind makes sure the West follows their part of the provisions." "The nations of the West are fractious, they would not have joined together without pressure from the East. We will take whatever actions to prevent any one nation from becoming too powerful for the same reasons we want to stop the East. We know the prophecies, even if King Negaler and Emperor Faquez have forgotten." Sage Ku blinked several times at the mention of prophecy. They all knew what he was talking about even if none dared to say it. Nobody wanted to even think about the Coming Darkness, but it would come eventually. It had been over a thousand years since the fall of Zazasp and the warnings of the second return of the Immortals. One of the earliest of the related prophecies said that when the West was united under one leader, the end was near. Many had feared that the Western Alliance was the fulfillment of that prophecy, but the various nations had been more of a confederation than a single force and it appeared that they would return to individual nations as soon as the threat was over. The two leaders stared at each other in silence for several long moments before the guards-general nodded his head slightly and left. Sage Ku didn't like the man, but there was no denying that the Coalition had done more than any other to stop these wars. Peace was possible now and Teladia could rest at ease. The drums of war would be silent for a time. The war banners would remain safely folded in chests. He knew enough of history to know that they wouldn't remain that way for long. How long was anybody's guess, but eventually the East would forget this day and turn their attention from where the sun rose to where it set. When it did, blood would flow like rivers and fire would burn the countryside.

The One Master of Magic has been revealed and both the Immortal and Mortal Realms are scrambling to react. With the Coming Darkness now undeniably close at hand, the world is rapidly approaching absolute chaos as kingdoms clash and empires fall. Plots are building and the lines are being drawn in dangerous new ways. A new power is rising in the form of the blacksmith apprentice Syler Penion, the Master of Magic and newly confirmed lord among the powerful and feared Krue. Syler wants nothing more than to free his sister from exile and protect those he loves, but he will soon find that the number of those who want to control him continues to grow longer and more dangerous. To rescue his sister and bring her to the relative safety of his new followers, Syler will be forced to confront his fears of inexperience, self doubt, and the terror of brutal combat. Syler is not the only one confronting his fears. The young princess Raella is travelling south to meet her father, but she is also heading into a dangerous political scenario and risks being destroyed between the plots and schemes of religious, magical, and political forces. She will find that her worst fears just may come true as strife and mistrust fracture the most powerful kingdom in Teladia and threaten to consume her family and all that she once knew. This is it, the beginning of Book 2 of the Master of Magic series. Most if it will be familiar to anyone who read my first draft because this novel will cover up to the point that I originally planned to end the first book. However, considering how much was added to the first book's second draft (I increased it by 50%+), there will be PLENTY of new material to read. I plan on going into a great deal more detail on some things and adding a few others to the mix. New characters have been added and new plots are developing. Raella and Amberis will be receiving significant increases in coverage, as will a few of the other supporting characters. In truth, I only hope that I can manage to get all of what I plan on adding into a single novel. I very well may have to push everything even farther back. The first book was all about setting the stage and introducing characters and the world. This book will be more about each of the characters confronting what they fear. For Syler, it will be his own inexperience at leadership as well as the horrifying thought of not being able to keep his sister, wife, and friends safe. For Raella, it will be the fear of realizing that she is woefully unprepared for the harsh and cruel world of politics and power, as well as the fear of losing her parents and the safe world she once enjoyed. For Prophet Aitin, it is the fear of his new life as a captive, first to the Terulan Shalktra and then to the Angvardi To'Kalak. For Alltis (Havert's wife), it is the sudden responsibility of maintaining Clan Thwrud in the place of her absentminded husband (new storyline). For Vekla, it is the fear of not knowing her place in a world without her father and with a lord she cannot identify with and who constantly ignores her advice. For Bronwyn, it is the fear of her continually dismal Seer visions that show only death and loss. For Suella, it is the fear of being trapped in a mortal body among mortals without her Immortal powers (new storyline). Well, I have a few minor things to finish up on the first book, but once I am done, I plan on cranking out a good number of chapters here because I am on fire for the novel now. My inspiration is back and in full throttle. Oh, I updated the map. I think almost all of it was simple visual cosmetics, but I think it looks far, far better than the last version. This one, for some reason, is bigger than the last in terms of megabytes, even though it is the same size. It is too large for photobucket, so I uploaded it to my DeviantArt account.

Brendo, this is the end of the book. I have decided to cut out almost all of the introductions and move them to the start of the next book. I have a few ideas of what to replace that material with, but I need to work on restructuring the chapter. I will edit it and let you know when it is done. I also added about 750 words to Chapter 36, almost all at the end. Most all of that was due to me belatedly remembering that Raella had a pendant/amulet exactly like the one that Ansee received. I also tweaked a little more of it around at the end. I have edited it in and fixed it up. Finally, we get to the Epilogue. I am truly excited and proud of this part because I have been waiting to introduce it for quite some time. I have long said and hinted that the Immortal Realm works sort of like if we had the Greek/Roman, the Egyptian, the Norse, the Celtic, the Aztec, and a handful of other gods all mixed into a single reality. I took the opportunity in this Epilogue to provide a glimpse into that system as well as how the "good guy" ruling body works. As always, what happens here is not random and will have repercussions later on down the road. Everything is woven together and yes, I do have great plans for each and every one of these Immortals. Next book will see Suella as a POV supporting character with a few chapters of her own. I hope that I managed to get the imagery across, as well as establish the various Immortals as being unique yet somewhat similar. There are purposes and reasons for why everyone reacts as they do, I just (intentionally) haven't revealed them yet. Anyway, I will stop yammering and let you read the complete version. Oh, I did edit even what I posted as a preview earlier, so you may want to reread it a bit. ________________ Epilogue Hall of Strakuuvindor The Immortal Realm Suella was careful not to let her eyes wander as she stepped into the sacred Hall of Strakuunvindor, meeting place of the Katei'mindosh Protectorate. In all of the Immortal Realm, this was the one place where any of the Protectorate were welcome and harm could befall none. At least, that was what was supposed to happen. Sometimes, things went wrong, as had happened when the vile Crusos had offered grave insult to Kama'uel, the Most Deprived of the Stoics. Kama'uel had been wroth with fury and chased Crusos out of the hall with a scourge. She felt no fear in entering this place, not with the mighty warrior Erastmus lumbering beside her with his usual threatening gaze challenging any who would hold it. Even among Immortals who could not taste death, not many wanted to risk his wrath, even if a few might be able to challenge his strength. She had to constantly remind herself that there was no reason to feel fear or intimidation, not here of all places. Yes, the various races that made up the Protectorate were supposedly at peace and not to prey on each other, but there were always…disagreements. Immortals couldn't be killed, but they could have great pain inflicted upon them and they could be bound, even if it was against the Treaty to do so to a fellow Katei'mindoshi. Those who encroached where they were not welcome often found themselves wishing they hadn't. She had never been a warrior and was counted among the weakest of the Elements. Just as Mewela of the Tetrarchy would never grace a battlefield unless at the greatest of needs, neither was it Suella's purpose to strive against the Deta'takame, the forces of Chaos. Her strengths lie in compassion, healing, and the caring of mortals. Few of their number could spend any amount of time in the Mortal Realm and she was one of those. That meant that she had some measure of respect here, though she was nowhere near as respected as Erastmus or Maegamus. Those two were among the mightiest of all of the Element's warriors and had earned great glory in the struggle against the Deta'takame. Her affinity for mortals was why she was here before the Great Council. Against all odds and completely to her bafflement, she had been the one fated to be the guardian of the mortal known as Syler Penion. Each of the Immortal Races had multiple of their number constantly walking among the Mortal Realm searching for the Master of Magic, the Prophesied One, all hoping that they would be the one who could guide and direct them. Nobody, not even the most mighty Tantis of the Tetrarchy, knew where he would come from. Only the Voice knew that, and the Voice had chosen not to reveal it to any as low as the Immortals. It had been to her absolute shock to discover that one of the Sei boys that had attracted her eye had revealed himself to be the Master of Magic himself. When she first encountered him on that stormy night in the hills, she had seen in him something that spoke of an unique life. The Elements were always gifted at seeing what might come from mortals and she was no different. In him, she saw a man of singular character who would be strong, a great general or a powerful lord. Never had she thought that he would turn out to be the One they all sought. Before finding out his true destiny, she had preserved his life or guided it along a better path, even if he didn't know it. It had not been until his powers activated and he was Realized in the place mortals called Kubei that she and all of the Realm knew what he was. At that very moment, all of the Immortal Realm shook with power as the Voice revealed the presence of the Prophesied One to all. When she heard the Voice's words, Suella knew it was only a matter of time before being summoned before the Great Council. She had only been here twice before, and neither time had been exactly pleasant. This time, though, it was almost guaranteed that she would be held to task and examined carefully by the Council. She feared what they may decide, though she would stand firm in her beliefs no matter what. "Relax, Suella," said the deep, almost gravelly voice of Erastmus. "I am here and you could ask for none better to stand at your side save Salgeus himself, and I would fight him for an era for your sake." She smiled at his kind words. Truth be told, she had never been particularly close to the hulking warrior until their encounter with Syler Penion. She had not expected the dark skinned champion to care about a mere mortal, but he had been drawn in to her encounter and reveled in any chance to bring Crusos down a notch. The two had been running a feud for a great amount of time, though she did not know what started it. "I know you are here," she replied softly. "It gives me great comfort, but we both know that you cannot defy the will of the Council." He looked down at her and, with fire in his eyes, replied, "Do not fear for your safety when in my presence. Even if it meant an era in bondage to the Deta'takame, I would stand at your side. You have great honor and great valor, even if you do not see it." Suella blushed, a unfortunate side effect of spending too much time among mortals. "I thank you for your kind words, Erastmus. I don't know what I did to earn the attention of one as mighty as yourself, but I do not count your friendship lightly." A strange look crossed the warriors face, but he said nothing. Instead, his fierce gaze passed over the gathered Immortals once again as if seeking out possible threats. To her eyes, they all seemed going about their own business, paying them no mind. This place was neutral ground, and many mixed races of Immortals were gathered in small groups conversing quietly with each other. Nonetheless, it was not proper to insult him by not allowing him to inspect the scene and make his own determination that it was safe. After he was satisfied, he moved aside and allowed her to enter the foyer. Both of them stood there until being summoned to actually enter the Hall. One as humble and weak as herself would never presume to demand that the Hall bend to her will, so she would wait. Erastmus might have gotten away with barging in, but he did not wish to cause a scene that might make things more difficult for her. All of the Lords Immortal were present and that wasn't a good sign at all. The great gold doors that led to the Hall cracked open ponderously and a single figure cloaked in radiant gold emerged. Suella forced herself to keep her head held high and not shrink back at the sight of Gatekeeper Zah'elios. The towering Daedash, a servant race of Immortals, was truly a terrifying being to behold, even Erastmus tread lightly around him. With skin and raiment that glowed with brilliant radiant light, it was difficult to look upon him for long. In his hands was a double sided spear that stood twelve feet tall, though next to his nine foot height, it wasn't so awkward looking. On one end of the spear was a point of pure light; on the other was a tip of abject darkness. "Suella of the Elements," he said in a booming voice, "you have been summoned before the Hall of Strakuuvindor." His eyes fell upon the dark skinned warrior standing next to her. In a much lower, almost threatening voice, he added, "Erastmus of the Elements, you have not been summoned." Erastmus rested his hands on the pommel of the sword at his side and set his jaw. "Nonetheless, I am here." Zah'elios did not seem amused in the least. "You will remain here." With a shake of his head, Erastmus replied, "No, where Suella goes, I go." "You presume to dictate terms to the Hall?" Zah'elios said imperiously. "Call me inspired by the Master of Magic," replied Erastmus with a mocking smile that didn't do anything to change the hardness in his eyes. "It is not permi—." For a second, the Daedash's radiance dimmed noticeably as his voice trailed off. Suella was about to ask if something was wrong when the brilliance returned to its previous level. When he spoke, his voice seemed resentful, if not a trifle angry. "It seems the Hall has granted your request to accompany Suella of the Elements as a guest. Speak not, for you have not been summoned." Without giving any acknowledgment or gratitude, Erastmus gently took Suella's arm and guided her around the Gatekeeper and into the Hall itself. Once through the gold doors, they entered an entirely new environment, one that showcased the glory of the Immortal Realm in a way not seen anywhere else. The first thing she always noticed were the six Seats that ringed the floor. Pillars of the whitest, most pure marble veined with solid gold held up titanic Seats decorated according to the wishes of the one who sat in it. Each Seat was different, but all excluding the bare grey stones that the Stoic Lord Immortal used were exquisite and awe inspiring, showcasing the majesty and strength of the Lords Immortal. The Seat sitting directly opposite of the Gate was the most magnificent of all and always garnered the most attention of those who came before the Hall. It was clothed in flowing white clouds and framed in golden light that sent rays throughout the Hall. Crowning the Seat were thunderclouds that sent small bursts of lightning down the back of the throne. The arms were of clear crystal, a solid piece that was without flaw or weak spot. Decorating the back of the Seat was a trickling waterfall that emerged just below the thunderclouds and flowed down the seat and into the lush field of white flowers growing at the foot of the Seat. A diamond three feet wide, one foot tall, and three inches thick stood in front of the Seat proclaiming its name: The Seat of Kae'kadresh'at. Despite its grandeur, the Seat always remained empty. When this mighty Hall had been created, the Seat of Kae'kadresh'at was already there, waiting for the first Immortals to enter. The name itself had the meaning of "One Who Rules All." At first, it was believed that it was an omen to guide those of the newly formed Katei'mindosh Protectorate to its one true leader. One by one, all of the Immortals in the Realm had been allowed to attempt to sit upon it in the hopes that the Voice would show them the one that was meant to rule them. None of the Immortals could force themselves to sit upon it no matter how hard they may have tried. After a long time of deliberation, the Hall determined that it was never meant for any of the Immortals, but rather was a representation of the power of the Voice and the Voice's inherent rule over them all. It was a symbol of how the Immortals who sat in the other Seats needed to remember that it was their purpose to protect the mortals as the Voice commanded. The Seats weren't the only thing that caught Suella's eyes. The ceiling of the Hall was breathtaking in and of itself. Even Immortals could not determine how high it went or even if it had an ending. It was called the Sky of a Billion Stars because of the vast multitude of lights of all colors that ringed it. Initially, there had been some doubt that there were actually a thousand million such lights, but when Fessamios of the Grifters defected to their cause, part of his penance included counting each and every one of those lights until he reached a billion. He did and discovered that there were many more not yet counted. The floor of the Hall was solid crystal that was dotted in bright colors of red, green, blue, violet, and amber. It was transparent enough to see the constantly churning clouds below, but sturdy enough that it had never so much as flaked or chipped in the ages that it had been used. Suella didn't have much time to bask in the glory of this place because it seemed the Hall was eager to hear from her. "Suella of the Elements," the rich, inflection heavy voice of Tantis of the Tetrarchy called out. She looked at the imposing figure cloaked in forest green robes of the finest cut of softsilk and embroidered in thread of gold. His Seat was a slightly lighter shade than his robes and was gilded in leafy vines. At his side was Gavin'sor, his famous solid bronze spear. The weapon was one of the great wonders of the Realm, wrought using all of his strength and skills in magic. The spear was enchanted with a spell of his own creation that made it invincible and caused it to shatter any metal its head came in contact with. "Thou hast been summoned before us this hour to render forth your knowledge of incidents encompassing the mortal known as Syler Penion of the Sei. What sayest thou?" She swallowed hard and stepped forward into the center of the floor so that all of the gathered Lords Immortal could see her. "I first encountered Syler when he was but a boy in their eyes. He was strong even then, but I had no idea that he was the one we sought until his Realization. There can be no doubt that he is the Master of Magic." There was no sound of shifting in the Seats, each of these Lords Immortal were too controlled for that. "And what of his character?" asked Zurisadai, the Evanescent of the Spirits. Her Seat was, like the Spirits whom she led, constantly shifting and fading into the background. The Evanescent herself wore a cloak of changing colors that concealed all but her pale blue eyes. Suella paused, trying to think of what to say. "He is strong willed and determined," she answered cautiously. "He has a strong sense of honor and valor and consciously tries to do what he sees as right. He is not greedy and does not desire wealth or power. He is extremely loyal to those he loves and will do anything to save them." "So we saw," murmured Zurisadai with disapproval evident in her voice and demeanor. "The Evanescent doth speak the truth," said Tantis. "Thou hath much to answer for, Suella of the Elements." Before she could speak, another of the Lords Immortal interrupted. "Why is it that you indulged the mortal to appease his desires rather than embrace what must be?" Kama'uel was the Lord Immortal of the Stoics and it was not without reason that his title was the Most Deprived. His Seat was nothing but bare, gray slate without any decoration or comfort. His kind had no love for the soft pleasures or riches of either realm, nor did they believe in indulging in anything save deprivation of self. He glared at her with his lifeless grey eyes that so reminded her of Crusos'. Suella stiffened and nearly snapped at the Stoic. A surprisingly gentle if calloused hand on her forearm brought her to her senses and saved her Judgment for her violation. She had not time to whisper gratitude to Erastmus for halting her, not with things beginning to build up as they were. She took a deep breath and answered in an even voice, "As I testified, Syler is very strong willed for a mortal. He presented an ultimatum to myself and Crusos that we could not negotiate out of." "Yes," said the nearly song like voice of Se'tet, "we have heard the testimony of Crusos of the Elements and have deemed his actions necessary and irrelevant to this situation." Se'tet was the Highest of the Ethereals, a cousin race to the Spirits. His Seat had mists emerging from its foot that served to obscure most of the one who sat in it. Even so, that did not entirely take away from the black onyx it was made of or the diamonds set within that sparkled with the light from the Seat of Kae'kadresh'at. He appeared to be nothing but a mist with a form vaguely similar to the others. Of all of those present, he was the most secretive and mysterious. "You are not here to cast Judgment upon Crusos. You are here so that we may cast Judgment upon you." "On me?" she exclaimed before Erastmus could stop her. "What have I done to warrant such charge?" There was silence for a time as the gathered Lord Immortals seemed to speak among themselves. She could see them occasionally nod or frown, but had no way to know what was being spoken. A glance at Erastmus told her that he was both fuming and clearly concerned for her. She still wasn't so sure what she had done to warrant his friendship, but ever since their encounter with Syler, he had always been close at hand. She was contemplating asking him what he thought was going on when Tantis' voice boomed throughout the Hall. "Thou hast been summoned to answer for why it hath passed that the Master of Magic was able to enter our sacred Realm without permission and did command thy presence. Most disturbingly, the question comes forth: what failures did ye cause by failing to ensure his cooperation with the word of prophecy?" Suella was confused at this. "I was not commanded to his presence, Most Majestic. I sensed his great agony and went to him to alleviate that suffering." "And you did not find it suspicious that he was within our realm?" asked Zurisadai. She had, but that concern had been fleeting when she looked at the anguish in his soul. Something told her not to say that, though. "It is not for me to question what the Master of Magic can and cannot do," she said, trying to be as humble as possible despite the accusatory tones directed against her. "That may be," the Spirit answered, "but that does not explain why things proceeded as they did. Is it not our highest law that no mortal shall rule over an Immortal? It is bad enough that you allowed him to summon you and worse that you answered, but those things pale in comparison to your most egregious failing. Your actions have tilted the Scales of Balance away from Order." Suella couldn't help but gasp and raise her hand to her mouth. To tip the Scales of Balance in such a manner was a serious thing. All too rarely were those Scales able to be righted back toward Order. Most of the time, they were always edging closer and closer to Chaos and the Coming Darkness. To think that any of her actions would have had an effect such as that on them was ghastly. "How did I do such a thing?" "We know not," Tantis growled. "I summon the Guardian of Balance and the Keeper of the Scale Featwel of the Tetrarchy to stand before the Hall." There were no objections, so he nodded resolutely and pounded the butt of his spear on the ground before his Seat. Thunder rumbled as the summons were sent forth. Suella was barely able to suppress a gasp of surprise when Featwel manifested himself in front of her and Erastmus. Within moments, her eyes narrowed in contemplation. It was forbidden for any except the Lords Immortal or Guardian Zah'elios to manifest themselves directly into the Hall. That was why she and Erastmus had been waiting in the Foyer before being allowed inside. Judging on the lack of reaction from the other Lords Immortal, Featwel seemed to have somehow received permission to do so, something she had not known before hand. The Tetrarchy was always jealous of its general prominence among the Protectorate. Despite being by far the smallest of the Immortal races, it held a great deal of authority due to the large number of mortal followers it had. That and the fact that it retained a far greater number of Daedash than the others gave it a decided edge in many things. "Keeper Featwel," Tantis boomed, snapping Suella out of her thoughts. "Thou hast been summoned before the Hall to describe the tilting of the Scales which are thy charge." Featwel bowed his head and shifted the pure white robes that had been disturbed during his manifestation. "It is not known for guaranteed, Most Majestic One, but the damage hath been accomplished and cannot be reversed." "That is not what you testified to us prior," said Kama'uel. The newcomer turned to address the Stoic without fear or reserve. "I doth say that it is not known for guaranteed, not that I doth not have speculations." "Speculate then," Kama'uel shot back. The god nodded and turned to face Suella. His youthful face that had been the object of many an Immortal woman's dreams and desires was set with grave concern and anger. His blue eyes were hard with resolve and his voice lowered. "I doth believe the Scales tilted in response to a perversion of prophecy. The sacred words hath been defied and fate hath been changed." Beside her, Erastmus stiffened. Suella felt unwell and struggled to stay on her feet. "I had no idea…" she said quietly. He wasn't finished. "Furthermore, we doth behold that the Scales hath crossed the Threshold into the favor of Chaos." Suella was speechless, her face paled and her shoulders sagged. "We all felt the Master of Magic's intrusion into our Realm," continued Featwel. "When it came to pass that you unlocked that which was his to discover upon his own, you upset things that should not have been disturbed. The Scales hath tipped and worse, they hath crossed the balancing point so that they are now, for the first time since the First Violation, in the favor of Chaos." Tantis nodded to his fellow god and waved dismissal. With a bow, Featwel manifested himself and faded away. When he was gone, Tantis pounded his fist angrily against the vine covered arm of his Seat before exclaiming, "The time of reckoning is upon us all!" "We have sacrifice much in preparation, but not enough," said Kama'uel. "We must sacrifice even more until the Voice sees us worthy." "And what do you propose, Most Deprived One?" asked Gusain, the Most Balanced of the Elements. His Seat was one of exacting proportions and complete balance. Instead of being solid stone or crystal, it was composed of countless pieces and materials that made no logical sense to the untrained eye. It seemed to be impossibly fragile as though the slightest breeze of wind might topple it down, but it wasn't. Every piece was precisely placed to provide the maximum support and strength to the rest of the structure. None but an Elemental highly skilled in the Balance could fully dissect the mastery of such a puzzle, but Gusain was able to do so with ease. "I propose that we bring the one responsible for this to task," Kama'uel snapped. "Suella of the Elements has failed in her responsibility to safeguard and enforce the words of prophecy and in so doing, disturbed the Scales." "It is incomprehensible to fathom that one such as Suella could upset the Scales as such," said Gusain. That at least caused the Stoic to pause. Other than Featwel himself, there was none among the Immortals that was as attuned to balance and the Scales as Gusain. This caused Featwel to step forward with a look of interest on his face. "What doth thou mean?" "The Elements are always seeking Balance. This is widely known," answered Gusain. "We see things that others do not. Of all of our kind, Suella is among the most attuned to the mortals, close enough even to approach the compassion of Mewela of the Tetrarchy." That last part caused Tantis' eyes to narrow. He was quite jealous of his wife's affinity and love for the mortals and did not take kindly to others comparing themselves to it. "She would never do something to intentionally cause them harm, especially not with the appearance of the Master of Magic and the Coming Darkness." "Perhaps that indulgence in emotions is what made her weak and willing to take these very actions," shot Kama'uel. "She was unwilling to do what was necessary for the greater good because she was unable to set aside her feelings." Suella was aghast now. They were Judging her because she granted Syler access to his own abilities? "Why am I being Judged for doing what I deemed right? Nowhere is it written that the Master of Magic cannot be helped in his journey. We can all be assured that Chaos will be attempting to stop him at every turn, so why can we not give him aid?" "Because in doing so," replied Se'tet calmly, "you directly caused him to break apart prophecy." "What?" cried Suella in astonishment. "What prophecy have I caused to be broken? All I did was grant him access to an element of his powers earlier than he would naturally have. He only used it to save his dying wife, one whom he loved dearly. Her death would have broken him and caused him to give up hope of life, all of which would have made him useless to all of our cause!" Tantis stood up and spoke in his grandly resounding voice, "The one who shows the world the way to the One shall, after her purpose is fulfilled, be sacrificed by the One himself out of compassion to save her. From the sacrifice, he shall suffer greatly but in the end, grow strong and find the will to face his destiny." He sat back down and said with regret, "He was to sacrifice the mortal called Bronwyn Antoras whom he loved dearly. Her purpose in pointing the way to the Master of Magic was fulfilled, as was her more important purpose in bonding to the mortal so that he may know sacrifice. In slaying her to save her, he would grow strong through pain and hardened for what doth be before him. It was his place to follow prophecy and thy place to watch. Thou didst decide to change that and by thine actions, hath violated the laws of prophecy." "But," said Suella with confusion, "I did not do anything except grant him access to that what was his already. I couldn't have altered prophecy without knowing it!" Zurisadai lifted one of her almost transparent hands and said sternly, "Only an Immortal can affect change upon prophecy, this is known. Syler Penion is but a mortal, so that could only mean that you yourself altered what was to happen." Erastmus stepped forward a step and said bitterly, "And how do you know it was Suella's doing and not the works of Crusos? Was it not he that transacted safeguarding of the soul of Bronwyn Antoras and then allowed it to be returned to her body?" Tantis' normally gentle green eyes blazed with barely contained fury at the interruption. "Thou, Erastmus of the Elements, were not invited into this Hall to speak, but only to watch. Hold thy tongue or thou wilt most surely regret it." "So am I to have no defense?" asked Suella. "Casting blame upon Crusos is not a defense," Kama'uel said. "It has been determined by the Hall that his actions alone were insufficient to bring about the altercation of prophecy. Someone stayed Syler Penion's hand and it could only have been you. The question we here so do wish to have answered is why you would do such a thing?" "Indeed," agreed Se'tet in his airy voice. "There is none other that could have done the deed, Suella of the Elements, but we do desire to know why you would defy prophecy. What were your motivations? In understanding these reasons, the Hall may be able to afford you leniency." "I-I—" Suella stammered, but she was cut off by the Stoic renewed attack. "Was it because you have a weakness when it comes to mortals?" Kama'uel's weathered, wrinkled face showed only the pleasure of a hunter who was setting a trap. "What are you—" she tried again. "Is it because you grow too attached to them that you do not wish to see them meet their ultimate mortal fate? Are you too concerned with their petty emotions and feelings that you cannot bear to see one of your select mortals suffer?" There was definite pleasure on his face now, so much that she began to see a smile on his cracked lips. "You have spent a great deal of time with them, have you not?" "It was onl—" "You have, for it is well known among the Hall." The Most Deprived leaned forward intently and reached out a gnarled finger to point at her. "You have even been intimate with them and engaged in carnal relations with some of their number. Have you sought out such relations with this Syler Penion? Is that it? Could you not bear to see him hurt because you have shared a bed with him?" With enflamed cheeks, Suella's back straightened in total indignation. Beside her, Erastmus stiffened and tightly clasped the hilt of his sword. It was not prohibited for Immortals to have sexual encounters with mortals or even for children to come from such couplings. It was slightly more acceptable for the males among the Immortals since there were fewer ties involved in bearing the offspring, but even the females could carry a non-mortal child if they remained in the Mortal Realm during gestation. She was not embarrassed about having carried and given birth to non-mortals over the ages, not at all. She was humiliated because it was considered extremely crass and insulting for others to mention such things unless the person involved mentioned it first. That went even more so for those of the other races to speak of it. Her jaw was clenched to tightly that she could not speak. Unfortunately, that allowed Erastmus to interject on her behalf. "You have no call to intrude in such matters or make such accusations, Stoic," he growled angrily. Kama'uel's dry lips peeled back to show old and brown teeth. "You have been warned, Element. I cast Judgment upon you for violating the words of your betters and for failing to properly address a Lord Immortal." He cast a quick—very quick—glance around the Hall to see if there were any objections. When he didn't see them, his hands wrapped around the simple looking quarterstaff that sat against his seat and aimed it at the towering warrior. Erastmus was already drawing power to himself to brace for what was to come, but he had no chance against one of the Lords Immortal, not within the Hall itself. His sword was ripped off of his belt and flew across the Hall to land somewhere behind Zurisadai's Seat. His golden armor cracked and melted away like dust in the wind that erupted from Kama'uel splayed fingers. When it was over, Erastmus stood naked and weakened. "I hereby strip you of your weapon and armor as penance for your arrogance. Now, bow before the Lords Immortal and ask forgiveness or I shall exact further penance." Erastmus gave one look toward Gusain, but received no reprieve. The Most Balanced shook his head sadly and refused to acknowledge the humiliated warrior. There was nothing he could do in this situation, Erastmus had erred too egregiously for him to offer protection even to one of his own kind. The dark skinned warrior grunted in acceptance of his fate and slowly fell to his knees and lowered his head. It wasn't a deep bow, not by any means, but it was a bow. "I accept my faults and humbly petition the Hall's mercy." Crystal tears fell from Suella's eyes to see the proud warrior so humbled for her sake. Honorable warriors were always too quick to come to the defense of non-warrior females, even when such aid was not sought. At any other time, she might have been merely annoyed, but this time she was filled with sorrow. Her sorrow and regret quickly turned to anger directed squarely at Kama'uel for doing what he was doing. The Stoic ignored her and took in the enjoyment at humiliating Erastmus. Stoics always thought that other Immortals were too indulgent in their desires and vanities. They constantly sought ways to strip them of everything but the most simple of things, to follow their own personal philosophy of self deprivation. The Most Deprived stood up and stretched out his staff. "The Hall does grant mercy to those who humble themselves." He tapped one finger against his clean shaven jaw and looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, another cruel smile came to his lips. "With the Coming Darkness drawing nigh, it will not do for one of our warriors to be unprepared." He stretched out with his power and a mist enveloped Erastmus. It didn't cover him for long, but when it was dissipated, he was clothed in plain, unadorned leather armor with a crude cudgel at his belt. "Behold, Erastmus of the Elements, your armor and weapon. May they serve you well in the upcoming war." With a wave of dismissal, he cast Erastmus out from the Hall. Without a word, the warrior vanished and was gone. Kama'uel's attention returned to Suella who was now standing alone beneath the scrutiny of the Lords Immortal. "Now, where were we?" This time, Gusain did speak up, and his voice was full of barely controlled wrath. He might not have been able to save Erastmus, but he did not appear to wish to allow another of his own to be destroyed without giving her a chance. "I believe you were accusing one of my own of some rather personal things. It is beneath one of the Lords Immortal to engage in petty gossip like a mortal. Unless you have evidence of your accusations, I demand you retract your statements." The Most Balanced was clearly not pleased at watching one of his best warriors be humiliated and was not going to allow another of his kind to receive the same treatment without a fight. Kama'uel smirked at Suella and replied in a condescending voice, "I was merely speculating on what her possible motives might have been based on her past actions." "To 'speculate' on such a matter is inappropriate and unacceptable for one of your status," Gusain snapped back. "Even the Lords Immortal are not above Judgment." "That doth be enough," Tantis said with a terrifying growl. "There doth be much of great import that needs be addressed. Most Deprived Kama'uel, consider thyself censured for your transgression against one not of your kind. I doth trust that bringeth the issue to an end. Now, answer, Suella of the Elements, hath thou conducted thyself in a carnal manner with the mortal Syler Penion?" "No, never," Suella answered immediately. "But you have lain with other mortals, have you not?" asked Zurisadai. Had it come from anyone else, it would be counted as grave an offense as that which caused Erastmus to speak out. Among Immortals, especially among those of differing races, only another female could ask such a question of her, even if it was normally considered inappropriate. Zurisadai's position as Lord Immortal and the nature of this inquiry allowed her to ask such a question, but only just barely. The tradition of secrecy and privacy concerning the non-mortal offspring of Immortals was strong and with good reason. Suella refused to look down in shame. "Yes, I have, but not with him. I have no desire to do such with him, either." The only other female in the Hall looked thoughtful, at least, as thoughtful as one could with only her eyes showing. "And have you carried offspring?" There was no point in denying it, or the implications. Immortals could not bring forth offspring among themselves. The only way for that to happen was by mingling with mortals. With a clenched jaw, she responded, "Yes, I have." "How many?" Realizing perhaps that she may have overstepped her bounds because she quickly added, "It is pertinent to the matters of the Hall, but your answer will not leave these sacred walls." She threw a pointed glare in the direction of Kama'uel as she spoke and he did not seem to protest. "I have carried five." "And how many do still walk the Mortal Realm?" This line of questioning brought up painful memories of loss—something that was rare for Immortals to experience. Tears once again formed in the corner of her eyes as she replied, "One still remains. The rest have fallen to death." "Name this one before the Hall." That went too far, even for a female of the Lords Immortal. It was no simple question she was asked, and it was not a matter of indignation or embarrassment that made her resist. Suella's back arched and her upper lip curled back slightly. She would draw the line at this point and go no farther. "No." This earned her an arched brow from the Evanescent, but she would not budge. "You have no place to ask such information from any of the Katei'mindosh. I invoke the Right to Silence in protest to this treatment. I will answer no further questions if this is where they lead." This earned her several minutes of silence as the Lords Immortal discussed this matter among themselves beyond her hearing. She didn't care what they did to her, she would not expose her one surviving son to the predations of other Immortals. She didn't trust Kama'uel at all and feared even the Evanescent might try to bring him into harm if she could find him. She had suffered enough watching her other son and three daughters taste the bitterness of death, she didn't think she could bear to see her last one fall into the hands of scheming members of this realm. He already had enough dangers with the schemers and threats from his own realm, he didn't need to add to them. At last, the silence ended and Most Highest Se'tet, who had so far, been mostly neutral in these matters, spoke. "Suella of the Elements, it is indeed your right to invoke the Right of Silence. As such, this Judgment is at an end. The Hall has decided your fate based on the facts at hand. Are you prepared to receive your verdict?" She was determined not to give into emotion, but to take whatever penance they gave her with the same dignity that Erastmus had accepted his. "I am," she said with a steady voice. There was no pleasure in the Ethereal's voice when he said, "Suella of the Elements, you have been found guilty of violation of prophecy. Because of your choice to invoke the Right of Silence, the Hall does not know your motives or what drove to such actions, so we have no way to mitigate your punishment. The intentional subversion of prophecy in any form is among the highest of crimes. The danger of rogue Immortals attempting to alter prophecy is a threat that even the Deta'takame take seriously. To oppose the will of the Voice or of Chaos is reckless and unacceptable for any with the gift of Immortality." His misty form solidified into a more normal one that allowed him to stand. With mists still steaming from his body as though he had recently been on fire, he cast an imposing image, but his voice was not threatening, only resigned. "Due to the grave nature of the crime and the lack of mitigation, the Hall must deliver the most severe punishment allowed. Suella of the Elements, you are hereby exiled from the Immortal Realm and stripped of your powers for a period of one thousand years. You will dwell among the mortals, doomed to be among them but never of them. You shall not approach another of the Immortals nor shall you attempt to enter this realm for any reason whatsoever, on penalty of being bound and turned over to the Deta'takame for their punishment, as is according to the Unbreakable Pact." Suella's heart dropped and panic clenched her throat. Exile as a mortal, the worst punishment that could be bestowed upon any of the Katei'mindosh save being turned over to their immortal enemies for endless pain and torture. She wanted to protest, but it would do her no good when the Hall had made its decision. She made her choice in not defending herself and did not regret it. Her son would live free for as long as he could, even if it meant she must suffer for a thousand years. With the Coming Darkness, she doubted that any of them had that long, but even in victory, her home would be denied her until almost all memory of it faded into nothingness. Se'tet could not execute the Judgment he had rendered, so he sat down upon his Seat. Only one of her own kind could strip her of her powers and bound her to a single form and place. Turning to a rather infuriated but trapped looking Gusain, she spread her arms in acceptance and held her chin high. For a few seconds, he glared at Kama'uel with pure hatred smoldering in his eyes. Suella knew that he had no choice in the matter: he had to abide by the ruling of the Hall. His face was saturated in regret as his gaze fell upon her standing without resistance in the middle of the hall facing him. He drew the power to him and stretched his hands out toward her without taking his eyes off of her. Suella stood there confident in her decision. No matter how horrible this fate was, she would not beg or humiliate herself. She would accept her punishment with the last thing the Hall of Strakuuvindor had left her, the one thing they could not take away: her dignity. She managed to stay on her feet as Gusain the power that had been part of her since the beginning of time was sundered from her. She did not cry out, but kept her jaw clenched. For a brief eon, she felt as though a layer of molten metal had been poured over her both inflicting pain and restricting her movement. That told her that her essence had been constricted to a single, mortal form. The sensation was so overpowering and the weight so great that she was forced to her knees. The very last memory she would have of the Immortal Realm that had been her home was blinding pain the likes of which she had never experienced before. She screamed until her throat was raw, then screamed some more.

Apologies, that wasn't the complete Epilogue, just the first quarter or so. I posted that because of how long it was taking me to overcome writers block on Chapter 36. In the book, the Epilogue will go at its proper place: the end. As for that immortal Immortals, I believe it needs some fixin'. It will be done when I submit the full Epilogue. That isn't the first mysterious eight sided pendant/amulet we have encountered. In fact, I believe it is the eighth we have seen or heard about, maybe the ninth. Raella herself has one, and that reminds me that I need to go and put in something regarding that (yes, I forgot she had it as she originally wasn't supposed to get one until later). Now, onto Chapter 37, currently the last official chapter of the book. As with the last one, this is a setup stage for the journey that will consume much of the next book. If anything could be used to describe this chapter, it is CHARACTER EXPLOSION! I added around ten completely new characters with full descriptions and characteristics, many with unique personalities. The reason why I did this is because I wanted to expand my collection of named characters (that would be part of Robert Jordan's influence rubbing off on me) who will play various parts in the future. Some, like Delmonor, Relwind, and Jaquiil will be more prominent than others, and some will die in the next book. Nonetheless, I wanted to create a group that will from hence forth be called (OOC'ly) Syler's Delk'o'khas (fifteen ride out with Syler and Bronwyn plus Lamastus is added to that), or literally, Syler's Sixteen. They will become a sort of league of champions and trusted companions who will often accompany Syler and help lead his troops. They won't be immune to death. In fact, as will be revealed early in the next book, of the nineteen people (Syler's Sixteen plus Syler, Bronwyn, and Karusa) involved in this little adventure, only three will be standing at the end of the Coming Darkness. Throughout the next book, I will refer to them by name rather than "one of the warriors" and I will be having them all interact with each other. It will be an interesting experiment for me. My hesitation and reservations about this chapter really concern whether it is wise to introduce so many new characters at the end of a book. I am likely going to take most of the introduction of the new characters and throw that into the beginning of the next book. If I do that, then this chapter is going to be a little light so I am going to need to expand it. I am trying to find something that I can put in that will enhance the story yet not be filler. I will ponder on it for a few more days and see what I can come up with. Nonetheless, here is the next chapter. __________________ Chapter 37 All proper Krue love a glory filled battle that will likely as not end in their own deaths. They just can't help themselves when one comes around, so I doubt ya will have much problems finding volunteers for yer fool's quest. — Growald of the Sei Clan Lord's Estate Thwrud Subeleth October 25 Two hours after his confrontation with Vekla, everyone was ready to leave. The cooks had prepared plenty of dried and sealed food that would last them for a month. The seamstresses had made sure everyone had enough warm clothes and canvas for their tents. Weapons had been sharpened by the smiths and armor was freshly polished or oiled. The hasuan had been groomed, fed, and saddled for those who would be departing. He had hoped to spend some time alone with Bronwyn repairing whatever damage had been done by his not immediately asking her to come with him, but it was not to be. Even before Lord Horadin was out of sight, Gamot the blacksmith ran up to him asking about his armor and extra weapons. From that point on, it was a rush of different individuals all wanting his input and permission and orders on any number of things. Having never been responsible for anyone but himself, Syler had no idea that so much went into preparing an expedition, even one as small as what he was leading. There were questions about food, tents, clothing, healing supplies, weapons, armor, hasuan saddles, and countless other small details that needed to be tended to. His hasty commands had set the entire estate and probably a good portion of the city into chaos. Since there was no way she was going to let him out of her sight, Bronwyn served as translator through it all, but it was not easy on her. He knew her well enough to see that she was barely holding herself together as it was. The fear of losing him had not entirely gone away just because he allowed her to come with him. He suspected that the only thing keeping her from breaking down again was the fear that he may change his mind. The more he thought about it—with what little time he had to do such things in all the rush—the more he wondered if there wasn't something else going on with her that she wasn't telling him. They did not usually keep secrets from one another, but he was not deluded enough to think she told him everything. To be fair, there were many things in his life that he didn't outright tell her, but he couldn't think of anything he would hold back should she specifically ask about it. He wondered if he should ask her what was really bothering her, but he could never seem to find some privacy to do that. Emerging from the front door of his estate hand in hand, the two of them stepped out into the mid-morning sun and beheld those who had been gathered to join them. Syler wore the heavy armor he had found, but also had a thick black cloak clasped to his shoulders. Bronwyn had managed to disappear long enough to change into an outfit of mixed brown wools that had divided skirts for riding. Several people in armor were gathered in the front courtyard waiting for them. The street in front of his estate had been blocked off by dozens of his guards carrying spears or swords so they wouldn't be swarmed by the crowds of people interested in catching a glimpse of what was going on. Saledaur Torrvel was waiting by the door in his finest robes, gushing on about how the estate would be kept in pristine condition waiting for him to return. Syler paid him little heed because his focus lay in the various men and women gathered in front of him. Delmonor was there in a freshly oiled set of leather armor and his massive double bladed two handed axe strapped to his back. His brown beard had been done up in two braids tied up with leather straps. He had an eager smile on his face, doubtless because he was happy to see some action and get away from the tedium of politics and translating. Growald was also there, but he was not smiling at all. He had his Seinari mail shirt on with a few pieces of custom made leather that Syler hadn't seen before over it. He had his sword belted to his side and a small bracer strapped to his left forearm. When Syler's eyes met his, his frown deepened enough for him to wonder if the burly man was still sore about being given the slip last night. He didn't care what the man thought as long as he followed orders. There were ten other warriors with those two, including, to Syler's surprise, a woman who might have been familiar though he couldn't place her. Motioning Delmonor over, he asked, "Who is the woman?" He didn't need to ask before replying, "That is Relwind Hastor of Thattos, bwet ley. You spoke to her on the way to the inthadaeka after your Confirmation." Now he remembered her. If Relwind noticed that he was interested in her, she didn't react but rather stood up straight and tall with the rest of the warriors. "Why is she here?" The warrior grunted as he shrugged. "She won the right by fair combat, though I cannot say why a woman put herself through that trial." Something in the way that Delmonor said that set off warning bells in the back of Syler's mind. "What do you mean, she 'won the right' through combat? What trial?" "Each of these has proven themselves worthy of your guard by defeating other contenders in fair trials." Syler did not like the sound of this. Dismissing the very thought that they had been planning on joining him, he focused in on the combat element. "So each of these have killed other Thwrudil to be here?" Delmonor laughed and looked like he wanted to slap him on the back before realizing who he was talking to. "Of course not, bwet ley, do you think us barbarians?" Syler didn't feel like pointing out how he had come to be in this position. "They won in various duels involving skill of arms, accuracy with the bow, endurance, and combat with blunted weapons. These are the best ten out of four hundred and eighty-six." Feeling a little better at that, Syler appraised the gathered warriors further. "Why would they compete to be sent out here with me? This is going to be a dangerous trip, not something fun or easy." Delmonor looked at him with wide eyes as though he had lost his mind. "Many desired the privilege and honor of joining you on this quest to save your sister. Krue have not ridden out in force to rescue one of their own from kalklatin in generations. It is rare that any of the People leave the Sacred Wood, but this is near unheard of. If you had not personally selected me to join you, I would have been with them fighting for the right to be at your side. The honor and glory of such a thing will make each and every one of us legendary." Syler snorted. "Great, so I have a bunch of glory seeking fools with me." Delmonor shook his head emphatically. "No, bwet ley, these are the best warriors Thwrud could offer. To my shame, I must admit that I would not be part of them were things different. Each of these has proven themselves against other contenders and most have further proven their worth on battlefields. You could not be in better hands." "We will see," muttered Syler under his breath. He glanced over at Bronwyn who remained stoically at his side with no sign of the emotion she displayed earlier. She knew better than to tremble or show any weakness in public because of the damage it would do to both her own reputation, but that of her husband's. Syler hated that life was doing this to them, but neither could afford to be anything but the perfect image of a strong, determined lord and his lady. Anything else would mark them as weak and only invite further problems and plots against them. He offered his arm to Bronwyn and was relieved when she took it. "Introduce us to the men," he said at last. Each of them had an aura of strength about them and most sported scars on their faces. There wasn't a single one that Syler would have wanted to have angry with him. By the way they wore their armor and hefted a varied assortment of weapons, they were clearly seasoned warriors. Relwind may have been the only woman among them, but she looked no less dangerous and perhaps a bit more so because of it. She wore a determined expression and held her head high with pride. Since this wasn't a regular military unit, each man had been allowed to wear and carry whatever armor and weapons they were most comfortable with. All had at least one spear and most carried swords or long knives, but there were other weapons among them. They were hardly uniform in appearance or mannerisms, either. Almost every one of them had at least one thing to make them unique from the others. The first, who went only by Pastal, carried a giant war hammer with a head that he guessed weighed fifteen pounds. When Syler commented on how difficult it must be to wield such a heavy weapon, he twirled the massive piece of steel as though it weighed naught more than a normal spear. Even under the mail shirt he wore under his leather outer armor, Syler could see the bulging muscles. Syler was a strong man and he knew from experience that Growald was even stronger. He wouldn't have put a single copper penny on the Seinari if he had been facing Pastal. The man looked like he could bend metal bars with his bare hands. Another, Gombel Hastag, had a most impressive beard that he had actually managed to weave into no less than seven different braids. Despite the moderately heavy scale armor he wore, the man's skin was a patchwork of scars. He had a wicked looking eight flanged mace that Syler could see had almost as many scars and marks on it as the man who wielded. He also seemed to have a penchant for knives because he wore a belt that had half a dozen different knives stuffed in it and had more on his belt. When he heard his name spoken, he gave a proud and genuine seeming smile that revealed that he was missing his upper front two teeth. Delmonor introduced the next warrior as Fenkrasko Rukal. At first glance, Syler could only picture him as one of the extremely vain and prideful lordlings from Havert's stories that always ended up being a complete fool and getting everyone killed. The man was young, but that wasn't a problem since most warriors were. It was his attire that made Syler think what he did. Fenkrasko wore almost stylish blood red and black leather with brushed steel polished to a shine separating the colors. The cuirass wasn't exactly normal for the Krue who preferred jerkins or brigandines over mail hauberks because of the added mobility. Syler was curious about why he would wear a heavier cuirass and especially one so awkward and brilliant as what he had on now because it seemed unlike the Krue as he knew them. Even the man's demeanor seemed to substantiate Syler's initial impression of him because, when he was introduced, he gave a strangely formal bow better suited among the Sei. His flourishing movements caused a few of the others to snicker, but nobody actually said anything aloud. His weapon of choice was a massive, two handed sword strapped to his back. Such a weapon was a direct contrast to the fluid motions of its bearer because swords of that size were normally meant for broad strokes that cut through opposition rather than avoiding it. Syler was forced to trust Delmonor that this man was a good enough warrior to have passed the trials and tests the others had to. Syler actually stopped Delmonor during his hasty introductions to inquire further about a peculiar warrior who wore nothing but a thin, untooled leather jerkin. Through a hasty conversation, Syler learned that Wrendak had sworn that he would never wear armor because it was an unfair advantage to his strength and speed. Syler initially dismissed the man's claims as foolishness until Delmonor told him that Wrendak had fought in three inter-clan wars and had acquitted himself bravely with multiple kills in each. That seriousness was reinforced by the deafening lack of snickering during Wrendak's explanation. Unless Syler was mistaken, there was an eerie pale blue glow coming from the man's sword. It was just barely visible where the hilt met the sheath, but it was there. Naedel Kadathil was perhaps the oldest in the group. Syler guessed he was in his mid-forties and looked grizzled and lethal enough even without an introduction. Delmonor introduced him as a sergeant and said that the hardened veteran had fought in numerous battles and skirmishes for two decades and was the only officer who had managed to join the group. He gave Syler the standard Kruish salute of a fist over his heart, but nothing more. There was no smile of acknowledgment when his lord passed by, just a blank face. He had two hand axes on his belt along with four slightly smaller throwing axes on a bandoleer strung around his shoulders. Syler might not have found the man's stoic attitude particularly endearing, but on the battlefield, he wouldn't be needing smiles and bows. If this man was an officer, then it was very likely he earned that position the hard way, and that would make him a valuable addition indeed. Feldthas Maeothuq was a common enough looking warrior with an unremarkable beard and standard light Kruish armor usually found on mounted warriors. His hair was a shade of brown that none would notice in a crowd, even among the typically lighter haired Krue or Kutii. He wore a sword and long knife just most of the others. Syler's mind sort of wandered over the man until he met the other's eyes. He blinked twice and paused for a split second before continuing. He didn't know if anyone else noticed, but one corner of Feldthas' mouth rose a fraction. The man's right eye was brown which was unremarkable in any way, but his left eye was unmistakably blue. Syler didn't know what caused such a thing, but it was more than slightly unnerving so he quickly moved on to the next man. Even Syler, with his limited knowledge of Kruish ways, knew that the most respected and honored Kruish warriors rode hasuan into battle. Baelkar Fondag was an infantryman and he made every attempt to proclaim that fact. Syler immediately recognized his heavier scaled armor dyed with the red that he had seen infantry officers wear. It was too heavy and cumbersome for mounted warriors who preferred lighter, more flexible protection. Even the man's weapon was there in defiance of the cavalry officers. He carried an eight foot pike that had the last two feet covered in steel with a nasty barb at its tip. It was a weapon designed to take down horses and perhaps even their larger hasuan cousins. Everything about the man was defiant, proud, and confident in himself, but not in an arrogant way. With the exception of Relwind, Syler thought he was the only other warrior here who wasn't part of the cavalry. What this man had to do in order to attain this honor must not have been easy, especially when Syler considered that infantry typically outnumbered the cavalry four to one among the Krue's hasuan dependant army. That only two from the infantry stood before him told him that they did not have an easy time against the cavalry despite their numbers. Syler's brows went up when he noticed a thin, wiry man who looked almost diminutive next to the much larger warriors standing beside him. The man's face was ordinary without any real distinguishing marks on it. Even his light brown hair was a shade that was most common among the Krue. He had leather armor on, but there was not a single piece of metal anywhere to be seen. When asked his name by Delmonor, the man shrugged and said calmly that it was Jutimaen Zankhuel. As he said it, his hands did go to the twin short swords at his belt, but otherwise he made no other expression or gesture of acknowledgment that Syler's attention was set on him. Delmonor shrugged and mentioned that Jutimaen was one of the best scouts they had and was absolutely deadly within an enemy camp in either dark or light. If Jutimaen offered almost no reaction to Syler's inspection, Adbaek Faqin made up for it with his beaming smile and enthusiasm. The man was literally bouncing on his heels and couldn't stop bowing when Delmonor told Syler his name. Syler smiled in bemusement when Adbaek's long sandy hair kept getting in the man's face, but the warrior didn't seem to notice. He stopped after several bows, but then proceeded to fiddle with his odd quarterstaff. The weapon, all of six feet long, was made of thick polished oak with half a food of steel on each end. At both points sat a metal ball the size of both of Syler's fists clasped together. Syler wasn't exactly sure how effective such a weapon was, but he could imagine that it would not feel pleasant to be hit across the head with one of those balls. Standing off to the side and looking decidedly nervous was Healer Apprentice Jaquiil. Syler wasn't entirely sure about bringing along a healer, but Delmonor argued that he was more than a simple healer, but an Alchemist as well. Even with that low level of magical ability, he was valuable in multiple ways. Plus, Delmonor pointed out that the man was rumored to be an excellent cook. Syler could only sigh at the sparkle in his translator's eyes when he started mentioning the delicious foods that a man skilled in Alchemy could produce. He had never considered putting an Alchemist's knowledge of mixtures and chemicals toward cooking, but if the man was willing to join them then he was welcome. When he gave his permission, a look of relief washed over Delmonor's face. When Syler asked about it, he merely mumbled something about the Healer Woman threatening to force noxious potions down his mouth if he didn't persuade him to allow Jaquiil to join the expedition. Looking sullen and even more dangerous than normal, Vekla was lurking around the rear of the group in the same black and gold leather armor and cloak that he had first encountered her in. She didn't meet his eyes when he approached, but kept her head down while fumbling with something in her hands. "I am glad you decided to join us," said Syler. He was surprised that he genuinely meant it. Having a sorceress of her skills was going to be a major help. Her head jerked slightly as if he had struck her. Still not lifting her head, she muttered quietly, "I am here to serve." "Look at me," demanded Syler. She did, but not eagerly. "You are strong, Mistress Vekla, and I am glad of that strength. Remember to channel it against those who oppose us and not friends." She clenched her hand tightly and nodded. Whatever she was holding must have been sharp because he saw a trickle of blood run between her fingers and down the back of her hand. She didn't react to it at all, but stood there with her unblinking brown eyes locked with his. "I am here to serve," she repeated. Syler remained there for a few more moments trying to figure out what else he could do. Bronwyn gently squeezed his arm and he realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with her here and now. He had to be careful not to shame her further than he might have already done. Whatever issues Vekla was having were too much for him to deal with right now. He made a note to himself to try to seek her out later in private to see if he couldn't mitigate the damage done to her pride. He turned to the last of their party and saw that the grizzly Seinari was taking in everything that happened between himself and Vekla. A few steps brought him face to face with his former nemesis. "Growald, I am not surprised to see you here," he stated evenly. "Yea, I told ya that I would come. You didn't think I'd let you go runnin' off and get yourself killed, did ya? I am your Guardian and guard you I will." Syler nodded brusquely in acceptance. "As long as you remember who is in command, and that it isn't you." That brought an almost sadistic smile to his face. "Oh, I do remember who is in command, Lord Penion. If we meet any of our countrymen, just let me do the talking or we might end up with enemies in front and behind." Not even dignifying that with an answer, Syler stormed off to check on their mounts. It was high time they started off before they lost any more light. Delmonor led him to where fifteen hasuan were saddled with extra provisions. Syler frowned at that last part. "I count fifteen saddled hasuan. There are sixteen of us riding out, with another two to be picked up on the way. How are Lamastus and Karusa going to ride when we have no more saddles?" Delmonor looked abashed and mumbled something in Kruish below his breath. Kezkast, the head of the stables, answered in broken words. "Lamastus travel on hasuan. Bwet leya no can on ride hasuan now. Fadeas sek ley no ride also." Syler didn't quite understand him and waited for Delmonor to explain. He did, but not happily. "Um, bwet ley, I may have forgotten to mention something important." "What is it?" Syler demanded with a little anger creeping into his voice. "You were told that Bronwyn would be joining us an hour and a half ago, so why isn't a hasuan prepared for her. And what of my sister?" Delmonor shoveled a little dirt with the toe of his boot and said hesitantly, "The two women cannot hold the reins of a hasuan." Now there was no lack of anger in Syler's voice. "Why not?" he said through clenched teeth. "It cannot be done, bwet ley—" Syler rose the arm not held by his wife in the air to stop him from saying any more. "I don't care about traditions or practices. I am the law here now and I decide what is to be done and what isn't. Am I clear?" Delmonor's head bobbed up and down rapidly, but his words didn't please Syler at all. "I do, Ley Penion, but it is not tradition that stops us or I would not have mentioned it." Kezkast spoke up again, "Hasuan no allow, bwet ley." "Hasuan don't allow it," Syler repeated coldly. "Delmonor, what is he saying? Out with it!" A new voice interjected, "The hasuan will allow nobody who is not a tried warrior to hold their reins." Syler let go of Bronwyn's arm and whirled around to see Zago Khaflar walking up calmly to them with a hasuan of his own behind him. The mage wore the same dark red robes he had when he first met Syler in the Clan House on the night of his ascension. At least this time, though, he was not panicking and blabbering like a madman. "What do you mean?" he asked through eyes narrowed with displeasure. "Nobody knows why, my lord, but all hasuan trained for battle as these have will not allow any who has not shed the blood of an enemy to command them," the mage explained diffidently. "Scholars and mages have debated this phenomenon at length, but there is no answer that has been discovered that all can agree to. What is known is that once a hasuan takes the path of war, it will not suffer any who haven't taken that same path to do so much as hold their reins, not even to lead them on foot. Hasuan are strange creatures, not at all like other animals and definitely not like your horses. They live by their own rules and woe be to any who do not heed them. I have seen men run through by their horns or stomped to the ground who tried to take the reins without being qualified." Syler had to force himself to close his mouth to prevent it from hanging open and embarrassing himself further. He had never heard anything like that before and wasn't quite sure whether the strange mage was having him on. By the look on Delmonor's face and the fact that the warrior hadn't disputed anything, Syler slowly gathered that Zago was being truthful. "So how will Bronwyn and Karusa ride?" he asked hesitantly. He couldn't miss Bronwyn's jerk and the sudden flush that rose from her cheeks as her eyes widened in apprehension. Zago shrugged, "My lady can ride with you. The hasuan can easily bear two, even with one in armor. My lord's sister will have to ride with another. The healer will also have to find a ride with one of the warriors," he said with an acidic glare at Jaquiil. Mages did not think very highly of Alchemists or Conjurors, all of whom were inherently weaker in magic than themselves. Bronwyn relaxed visibly, but said nothing. Syler remembered clearly how a hasuan bore both of them and another warrior to Thwrud in the first place and knew the mage spoke the truth. "Very well then," he said. He paused a moment, then asked, "What are you doing here, Mage Zago?" The man smiled slightly and bowed. "I am here to join you on your quest to rescue your sister, of course. You may have a sorceress already, but having two gifted is even better." "And why should I have you with me? These others have fought to earn the right to join me, and they have demonstrated their loyalty to Thwrud or myself." Well, all of them except Growald, but he didn't quite count here. "You are a mage, not bound to any, at least, not that I have ever seen. I never heard you give oaths of fealty to me." "But I most surely have done so, my lord," he replied with a sniff of indignation. "I have given my oaths to serve you and obey your commands before the Ring of Thirteen." Syler didn't know what the Ring of Thirteen was and said as much. Delmonor answered for the mage, "The Daethas se Dalk'o'koene is the ruling body of the mages. It is the only true authority over them, just as the Daethas se Bwiin, the Ring of Seven, is the ruling authority over wizards. You can ask no more from any mage or wizard than pledges given to their Daethas. They do not give twakhi to leyin or even inthaleyin." "And do you trust this man?" asked Syler pointedly. That drew huff from the mage, but he didn't care. After considering it, Delmonor nodded. "It is as best as we can hope, bwet ley. We must take him at his word." Syler wasn't at all willing to take him at his word, not with how he reacted at their first meeting. Mage magic might not have any effect on him, but that didn't mean Bronwyn or the others were as safe. Even with Vekla there to watch over him, he wasn't sure that the benefits of having a mage outweighed the risks. He considered a moment and decided that he would rather have the man along and deal with him on the road than to leave him behind and find himself in need of his services. If Vekla was hurt or killed and they came upon a dying Karusa, then having another mage would be far better than just the healing abilities of Jaquiil. "Very well," he said at last. "You may come, but if I get even the smallest inkling that you are anything but loyal to me, I will kill you myself." When a sneer of contempt began to form on the mage's mouth, Syler quickly added, "Don't forget what happened when you tried to heal me. You are nothing but another man to me. A man who isn't armed or wearing armor, at that." The sneer melted from his face along with its color. He nodded somewhat meekly and backed away. At least he was already packed with his things on his own hasuan. Syler only hoped that he wasn't making a mistake. There was too much at stake for anything to go wrong. "Where is my hasuan?" he asked. Kezkast bowed quickly and showed him to a steady looking brindle mare. The hasuan's coat was a very dark brown with dark grey striping along both flanks. Syler hadn't seen any horse or hasuan that looked quite like it and asked about it. "This was Ley Saekoris' hasuan," replied Kezkast. "She name is Ment'fa'haehl." "What does that mean?" asked Syler. To his surprise, it was Bronwyn who answered, though in a distant voice. "It means something similar to 'Watcher of Doings' or perhaps "Witness to What Happens.' It isn't Kruish." "Then what is it?" Her cheeks reddened slightly. "It is the language of the caetos kvastal, the Seers." Syler's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, you have your own language?" "No," she said hastily. After a second, she lowered her head and said again, "Yes, sort of." Her face hardened. "I cannot explain it, nor should I. It is not for those not of the gift to know." Her voice was tart and accusatory, though Syler didn't know why. He knew that look and knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere by prodding. "Okay, Bronwyn, no need to get angry." She scowled. "I wasn't angry." Not wanting to fight, Syler let it drop. "Okay, so then, this is Ment'fa'haehl." He approached the towering animal and paled a little at its sheer size. Even though he was not considered short by any means, he barely came up to the hasuan's shoulder. If he were to stretch his arms up as high as he could, he would hardly even be able to touch the animal's ears. He had ridden enough horses to know that it was always wise to allow it to see and smell you before trying to jump on its back. He figured that was doubly important with an animal that was a trained war animal. Whispering calm things to it, he allowed the mare to smell him with her massive nose. "She is not a toy," said Vekla harshly from behind him, "nor a child. Hasuan do not need coddling as your inferior horses do." He only barely managed to prevent himself from jumping in surprise at her sudden appearance. "I see you got some of your spirit back," he said. "You are a fool to allow an aqel to accompany us," she retorted. As much as Syler was glad that she had regained some of her fire, he was not quite so ready to accept being berated by her again. "Watch your tongue, sorceress," he snapped and was pleased at how she took a step back. "What is an…whatever you said?" Though her tone was slightly more submissive, it still carried an edge to it. "An aqel is what you call a mage. Zago is not to be trusted because he has no loyalty to any inthal, to any clan." "It is none of your business who I bring with me." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could recall them. Instead of being angry, Vekla's face bespoke disappointment. For some reason, her being disappointed with him bothered him. Without another word, she turned and walked away. "That wasn't exactly diplomatic," commented Bronwyn cautiously. "No," he admitted, "but I didn't want it to be. Vekla might have been brought low for a time, but if I am not careful, she will be right back at it trying to command and expecting me to follow like a sheep." "Maybe you should be following her advice," his wife said. "After all, these are her people and she knows what she is doing in this far more than you do. If we were in a forge, would you not expect her to listen to your advice?" She managed to keep her voice from being accusatory, but it was as close to it as Syler could imagine anyone being without crossing over the line. He acknowledged her hit with a nod, hoping to retain at least a little self respect in front of anyone who might be listening in. He turned his attention back to Ment'fa'haehl. She stood there with her head tilted to the side looking at him with her big brown eye. "Well, at least you won't talk back to me," he said hopefully. In response, Ment'fa'haehl neighed and stomped her front hoof impatiently. "On second thought…" he muttered as he looked for a way to get up. The hasuan was too tall to mount like a normal horse, so the Krue placed an extra handle at the bottom of the saddle from which to grab. He pulled himself up by that handle with one hand and grasped the pommel of the saddle with his other. It was kind of like climbing a ladder, a very short ladder. Once his feet were firmly in the stirrups, he reached down and pulled Bronwyn up behind him. As soon as she was settled, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a way that was more than a little comfortable. He nearly gasped in surprise when she brushed her lips across the back of his neck and slid her hand beneath his armor to softly stroke his stomach. To prevent himself from turning red at that, he shouted, "Let's go!" and nudged Ment'fa'haehl into action. The guards that had been blocking the road to prevent the crowds from swarming them suddenly pulled aside with shouts of warning. The citizens in the street yelped in alarm and scrambled to get out of the way as Syler, Bronwyn, and fifteen others on hasuan galloped down the road and off to save his sister at long last.

Alright, I FINALLY got the inspiration to complete Chapter 36. I had known that it would introduce the priest Ansee and include Raella setting off for Terula so that I could carry on my closing theme of departing for "adventure" (Syler's is next chapter). However, I had no idea how to do this and still had no clue until I sat down tonight and started typing. I was in a kinda mischievous mood for part of it, and I think that shows quite clearly. This chapter was a blast to write and is, in my opinion, one of the best fitting chapters in terms of character interaction and what happens. I go through a good number of emotions and moods all in fairly rapid time, but I think that is part of the fun. Raella has been an extremely underused character and I had hoped to remedy that a little in this second draft. I managed to get in a chapter with her in the Temple, but that was mostly as a way to explain the Way's view of creation. Unfortunately, the opportunity didn't truly present itself until now and I am very glad that it did. So, just a heads up: right now, I am planning on ending things at Chapter 37 and with a rather long Epilogue (that rivals many chapters in length). I won't rule out adding another chapter somewhere if I feel it is needed, but I am quite pleased with how this is turning out despite my earlier reservations. The epilogue really did it for me, but this only further helped it. Maybe I am totally missing the mark, but I am pretty darned proud of this chapter. Sure, it is going to need some smoothing out as it is essentially rough draft material, but still, I am pleased. The rest of the book is finished, so I only await you reading them before I can post them. Tomorrow, I think I just might start on the Prologue to Book 2: The One Who Confronts Fear. ______________ Chapter 36 And so it shall be that the One shall depart from his first throne and journey west to face his Third Trial. In concurrence, the heir of the star graced mountain and the thrice forged crown shall journey south to the land of her forefather to face the First Trial that stands before her. — prophecy of I am an idiotand Asemon, 310 3E Temple of Eternal Remembrance Angvard City Angvardi Empire October 25 Ansee Endarn had always loved travelling. It was so exciting and allowed him to see new places and meet new people that he could help minister to their souls and guide them along the Way. One of the very few regrets he had about becoming Princess Raella's personal priest and spiritual guide was that he had to give up his circuit and the villages that he so loved visiting. A large part of his current duties now centered upon remaining in the capital and making himself constantly available to her should she need any counseling on matters of the soul. He had few other duties to tend to, though that singular one kept him in one place most of the time. Though, on second thought, if he hadn't become her priest, he would never have been able to travel to Terula. Even though Unification demanded a blending of all peoples and nations, the truth was that the priests were more loath to do so than others, even soldiers. Ansee couldn't understand why, but even when presented with the ability to mingle with Terulan priests, his fellow Angvardi made every excuse to beg off. He supposed part of that came because both held to different Tetrands and were not too eager to place themselves under the jurisdiction of the foreign High Priests. Ansee didn't much mind being under the authority of a Terulan archpriest because, ultimately, they were all seeking the same thing. He started this day early because there was so much to do. Even before the sun peaked over the horizon, he was up at his daily prayers. When those were finished, he put on his blue robes of Mewela and went to the public altar to his patron goddess to offer up incense and perform at least a few blessings in her name upon those who would gather at this early hour. He was lighting the last of the incense when he felt a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. Turning calmly, his eyes widened at the sight of High Priest Hassell, the mortal voice of Mewela the Former. Ansee quickly lowered his head and said respectfully, "How may I serve Your Holiness?" Hassell spent a few seconds appraising him. Though the High Priest was only a few years older than Ansee, he had risen through the ranks and been selected by the Tetrand to fill the position of High Priest thirteen years ago after the death of High Priest Grazam. In truth, Ansee was the oddity. At his age and with his reputation and experience, many thought he should be at least a head priest if not an archpriest. Ansee had been offered Elevation before and while the thought of overseeing several temples was appealing, he had turned down the offer and insisted on remaining a regular priest. His superiors had wondered why that was and were not exactly happy with his decision, but nobody could force a priest to accept greater responsibility than what they felt they could take. Ansee was careful who he told the reason he was happy where he was. If he had become a head priest, he would have been forced to leave Raella and he couldn't do that, not after serving her since her birth. "Priest Ansee," Hassell said when he was ready, "I came to ensure that you were properly prepared for your journey." Ansee remained bowing as he replied, "I have said my prayers and burned my incense. I seek only the blessing of Archpriest Onath before going to the Princess." Hassell gave him a small nod. "There is no need to seek the archpriest. I will give you blessings for your journey." "Thank you, Holiness." He kept his head bowed as the High Priest went through the sequence of ritual blessings in the name of the Tetrarchy and the goddess Mewela. It was rare that one as high as Hassell would give a blessing to any as low as a humble priest, but Ansee would not turn down such an honor even if he had a choice. When the blessing was complete, he felt a hand beneath his chin raising his head. He did not resist and soon found himself staring into warm brown eyes remarkably similar to his own. Hassell's face was etched with worry as he said, "Take care on your journey, my son." "I will," assured Ansee. "These are dark times, dark times indeed. The prophets believe they have uncovered a dire warning and threat against the throne of Angvard. The guard has been doubled, but I fear that there is no way to escape prophecy." Ansee hadn't heard of this before. His heart quickened and his eyes widened. He didn't know what to say to that, so he murmured, "I see." The High Priest's eyes hardened and his voice took on an edge. "The princess is important to us. There are privileges that my office enjoys, privileges that allow me to know things others do not. I am forbidden to speak of them, but I can say that I believe Princess Raella is absolutely crucial to our victory in the Coming Darkness." His grip on Ansee's jaw tightened almost to the point of causing pain. "Listen to me, my son. The princess' life will be threatened and you must not hesitate to protect her. There are many things that I wish would not be, but I have no power over the will of the Tetrarchy." He released Ansee from his grip and pulled out two objects from beneath his ornate blue vestments. The first was a letter sealed with the High Priest's Seal. "I am loathe to give this to you, but the time for hesitation is past. This is an official Writ of Absolution signed and sealed by myself. There may be a time when you must do things that may not be in accordance to what you have been taught. You must be willing to do anything to protect the princess, even killing. If you must lie, cheat, steal, deceive, or kill, so be it. As long as it is with the purpose of protecting the life of the princess, I have absolved you of all sins. No man who adheres to the Way may lay hands upon you with that in your hand, not even Terulans. Take it, my son." Ansee's hand was trembling when he hesitantly reached out to take the letter. All of this talk about killing and danger was almost more than he could handle. By the gods, he was not a young man, why was the High Priest laying this burden upon him? He loved Raella as the daughter he had never had, but this was something utterly unexpected. He didn't know if he could do what the High Priest was asking him to do. But Hassell was not finished. He held something else in his hands, a pendant. It was shaped like an odd, eight sided star attached to a gold chain. The shape was divided into four quarters, each with a different color: red, blue, green, and white. He recognized the colors of the Tetrarchy, but not the pendant itself. "This has been handed down from one High Priest to another for generations untold," Hassell explained. "When I ascended, I found it in my new desk, locked in a drawer that had not been opened in many years. There was a small letter with it, but you do not need to know such things. I believe that I am to give it to you for a purpose that I pray will be made known to you in the future. Keep this close, and tell nobody that you have it. I don't know what it is, but I know that it is ancient and important." He placed the pendant in Ansee's hand with regret etching his wrinkled face. "I am sorry, my son, to place such a burden upon you. It was not my choice, but the will of the gods. Remember, not all threats come in the form of a knife in the dark or an ill spell, sometimes words are just as deadly as steel or magic. Don't let a smile and warm words lull you into complacency. Go now in peace but expecting war, and protect the princess at all costs." With nothing else to do but comply, Ansee scrambled to his feet and hastened out of the small chapel. The letter and pendant were clutched in his hands, though he wished he could throw them away. He wasn't an adventurer, nor was he particularly versed in combat or politics. He was just a simple priest who wanted to help as many people as possible. The High Priest's words terrified him more than he had been before. * * * * * Raella had spent the day scampering from one room to the next, running up and down the halls of the Palace in a most undignified manner. Few in the Palace commented because they were too busy preparing for the trip to Terula for the winter. Some of the younger servants and guards even smiled at the overly enthusiastic princess and saw no reason to dampen her spirits. It was like this nearly every year when she would go to see her father and spend the colder months in a more comfortable environment. This was one of the few times when things were so chaotic that she was able to get away with almost anything. There were no lessons, no petitioners, no practicing, and no expectations for her to make appearances or go to fancy dinners with nobles who needed placating. She had taken extra care to prepare all of her things and made sure that her retinue was assembled and ready. Whatever wasn't already packed and waiting in the courtyard ready to leave was being handled by her servants. She was free and intended on making good use of that freedom. If her mother had caught her, though, she would be in for a rather uncomfortable "conversation" that would likely leave her sitting tenderly for the next couple of days. Empress Celienna took a very dim view of outward expressions of joy or "immaturity." For her, the only appropriate emotions a ruler could openly display were anger, reserved benevolence, or satisfaction when her plans succeeded. Even being of age and a lady in her own right was not enough to spare the princess if her mother felt she needed correction. That didn't bother her, though. Her mother was constantly surrounded by guards and attendants that gave her plenty of notice whenever she approached. There were a few of the nobles and officers that might report her, but even they hesitated to earn the enmity of the woman who would eventually have absolute control over their lives and fates. "Come on, Ellie," urged Raella as she began her raid on the kitchens. It was a time honored tradition of hers started when she was seven and had far more free time and fewer obligations. Every year, during the chaos resulting from the preparations to travel to Terula, she would sneak into the kitchens and make off with whatever sweets she could find. It infuriated her mother whenever she was caught doing such things, but the sheer pleasure of being able to act like a normal child, even for a few minutes, was well worth whatever punishment she received. Now, eleven years later, she was off once more to pillage the pantry when the stakes were even higher. In her mind, just because she was now eighteen and supposedly a proper lady didn't mean that she shouldn't continue the tradition. In truth, the added risk only made it more enjoyable. "Please, Princess," pleaded a huffing Ellie as she scrambled around the corner in pursuit of her exuberant ward. "You are too old to be doing this. It isn't proper!" "Posh," retorted Raella with a sly smile. "I may never get a chance to do this again, so I am going to enjoy it one last time." She stopped outside the kitchen doors and waited impatiently for Ellie to catch up. When the maid finally caught up, Raella put her finger over her lips to command silence. "Now," she whispered, "you go in and provide a distraction while I make off with the sweets." "But this is too dangerous." Raella grinned mischievously. "Of course it is, and that is what makes it so much fun, right?" As the heir, she was most certainly prohibited from doing anything that might be considered dangerous. She understood the importance of remaining safe, but that didn't mean she had no urge for adventure and fun. These raids, in the kitchens and in other places, were about the most dangerous activity she was allowed to experience. That meant that each moment, each rapid heartbeat, and each whispered word were to be savored. Sweat dripped down Ellie's forehead as she shook her head violently. "No, that is what makes this insanity." "Shhh, do you want them to hear us? Now, do as I say and it will all be okay. It isn't like we haven't done this before, right?" "But—" "No 'buts' today, Ellie. You are my maidservant, so you do as I tell you, right?" Well, it wasn't exactly that way, but Raella could be persuasive if she needed to be and she believed that Ellie truly did love her as her own. After all, Ellie was the same age as Raella's mother and she had been taking care of her since she was born. Throwing her hands up in surrender, Ellie rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, we are doomed!" Raella's smile only grew. "Okay, dry your forehead and provide that distraction." Muttering something about doom and being cast out onto the streets—as if Raella would ever let that happen—Ellie wiped her brow, straitened her skirts, and took a deep breath. When she was ready, she entered the kitchen and began playing her part as a distraction so Raella could slip in and make off with the goods. "You there!" Raella heard Ellie say in her most patronizing voice. "Where is it?" She had to envision the confused look on the nearest cook's face, but hearing the confusion and hesitation on the poor man's face was fun enough. "Where is what, mistress?" Ellie let out an indignant huff, "What do you mean, 'where is what?' Are you completely incompetent or do you have cheese stuffed in your ears?" The cook's voice grew slightly more strained, "No, I—um." "Oh stop standing there like a lout and get on with it!" snapped Ellie. "I don't have all day. There is a journey to prepare for, you know, and we will be leaving shortly." "But what, er, what did you need?" There was the sound of something clanging to the ground and Raella almost giggled at the thought of Ellie flailing her arms around in exasperation and knocking something off a counter. The woman did have a habit of doing that when she was angry or flustered or, more importantly, wanted people to think she was either of those. "Of all the…" the maid moaned. "The Princess' lunch, of course. Do you expect the one and only heir of the Unified Kingdoms to go hungry just before traveling thousands of miles to see her most beloved father?" "Um, no, mistress, we don't—But there was no request…I don't, I mean," the poor cook was now beyond hopeless. For a moment, Raella felt a pang of sympathy for the man, but she always did find a way to make it up to all of the victims of her raids one way or another. Even as a mere princess, she had a good deal of influence in certain matters and it wasn't all too hard to get scullions, stable boys, or even armorers a little time off or a few extra coins. After all, it was only proper to reward them for providing her some much needed amusement and relief. "Well, get to it!" Ellie almost shrieked. She and Raella had spent years carefully crafting her image into that of a fearsome and demanding woman to the point that most of the palace staff feared her. Ellie might be as mild mannered and pleasant as any woman could be when with her ward, but she didn't let others know that. It spared them both a great deal of heartache and toil if everyone believed the rumors of her tyrannical rule and violent temper. There was a mass scramble as numerous bodies snapped into motion all at once. They might not know what the Princess had wanted, but it didn't matter. In their panic, they were all eager to do anything so as to avoid the wrath of Ellis Dantorum. After a minute or two of her poking and prodding and generally creating mass confusion, the entire kitchen was in an uproar from the Mistress of the Kitchens down to the lowest scullion. When the time was right, Ellie gave the prearranged signal by saying, "Well, it is about time someone started doing things right." Trusting her partner in crime's timing was right, Raella ducked into the kitchen and all but raced for the pantry. She had to be careful to avoid the pan that had been knocked over in Ellie's storming, but all of the kitchen workers were busy inside and none caused a scene when seeing her. Normally, if she ever did actually go into the kitchens, each and every person there would stop what they were doing and all but beg to do her bidding. It was great when she wanted food, but the added attention made actually making off with the sweets rather hard to do. Ordering them to look away took all the fun away. She sometimes did suspect, on some years, that her mad scramble was sometimes intentionally ignored by the cooks and assorted help. Three years ago, she had jumped in too early and ran smack into the back of one of the cooks. She had let out a startled gasp when she saw the princess and Raella thought the entire raid was done for. To her surprise, the cook gave her a single bow and hurried across the kitchen and hollered at the attendants to work faster. Two days later, she encountered that same cook who gave her a very purposeful wink with a smile on her face. Even if they did expect what was going on, at least they had the grace to let her have her fun. There was so little of her life that was actually hers to do with as she pleased and they kitchen staff seemed to sense that. She was always nice to them and they seemed willing to indulge her on occasion as result. This year, though, she didn't think anyone saw her during the four seconds it took to dash into the pantry. Since there were so many coming and going from it, the door was open. That wasn't so bad because the pantry twisted around a corner allowing her to hide quite well as long as nobody entered the pantry. It was Ellie's job to make sure nobody did and she had to trust her partner once again. Behind her, Ellie's indignant voice provided even further cover. "Did you—did you actually mean for the Princess to eat that?" That resulted in even more scrambling and clanging of spoons against pots and bread pans scraping against the stone ovens. Once safely inside the pantry, it was only a matter of grabbing everything that looked like it was covered in honey or cinnamon. She did and quickly filled both a large basket and her mouth with the tasty treats. There were so many goodies that she wanted to take, but the basket was only so large and if she wasn't careful, she would leave a trail of dropped sweetrolls along her escape route and that would certainly get her caught. "Did I say you could stop!" Ellie's imperious voice rang out above the din of the kitchen. "Get moving or you will be sent to cook for the dungeons!" She had the loot, now it was time to make her escape. Risking a quick peek outside the pantry doors, she saw that that coast was clear. Despite the extra baggage of the freshly stolen loot, she raced to the escape offered by the kitchen door. Desperately trying to suppress a squeal of sheer exhilaration, Raella rounded the threshold to freedom at a full out run. And ran straight into the imposing wall of metal and flesh that made up her mother's personal guard. Raella's joy turned into sheer terror in the space of a heartbeat as she bounced off of the burly man and fell on her backside. The overfull basket flew from her hands and sent the incriminating bounty of her raid rolling down the hallway. The soft grunt of surprise from the guardsman was masked by Raella's quite audible gasp of horror. Standing behind the quartet of guardsmen was Empress Celienna II who was not looking very pleased at all. In truth, Raella thought she had looked less angry when ordering a traitor's head lopped off. There was no denying what she had done, not with the evidence still tumbling down the hallway. She was doomed. Her mother did not explode. No, that would be inappropriate even in front of her own guards. Instead, her face went as red as a fresh ripened beet and her eyes grew as hard as carbonized steel. Raella could see the vein on the left side of her neck pulsing and wondered just how long it would be before she could sit without discomfort. Maybe if she were lucky, she could get one of their mages or a wizard to heal her, but that wasn't likely. Nobody wanted to interfere in the empress' discipline. One of the guards offered her a hand to help her up and Raella had no choice but to accept it. Her own face was probably as red as her mother's, though for a very different reason. She stood up and brushed herself off with as much dignity as she could for one in her situation. "I believe," Celienna said with frost in her voice, "that you and I need to spend some time in your chapters…discussing what is proper." Raella gulped and dearly hoped that Ellie would hear what happened and avoid stepping into the trap. "Yes, Mother," she murmured while studying her feet. It was not going to be a pleasant conversation and she doubted there would be too many words exchanged. "A lady has no need to be traipsing around the kitchens making off with sweets." If she was going to start in now with this many witnesses, it was going to be bad when they got to the privacy of her chambers. "I might tolerate this from a little girl, but you are a grown woman now and you should know better." Again, there was nothing else to say but a dejected, "Yes, Mother." The empress snapped once and Raella jumped into action. She knew exactly what she needed to do and didn't hesitate. Making an about face, she started off for her chambers with as much proper grace as she could manage, all the while knowing that her mother and guards would follow. Every step was agony, and not just because her cheeks were still enflamed and sweat was trickling down her spine. It was humiliating, true, but more than that, she had been caught. She had never been caught in one of her raids by her mother. True, some had been less successful than others, but never in front of the Empress herself. They continued through the circuitous grand hallways that her mother always said were meant for proper ladies. Raella knew them all by heart, even if they did take longer to get anywhere than the servant's pathways. It was rarely acceptable for a servant to be seen going about their business, so they tended to stay to the shadows and the maze of smaller hallways that ran through the palace so that proper nobles and guards would not be hampered in the richly decorated grand hallways. "Princess Raella," a strained voice called out from one of the servant's halls as her procession marched onward. She briefly considered continuing on, but that may earn her even more stripes for being rude. She came to a stop and turned to see who had called her name. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the familiar and friendly features of Father Ansee. Things could hardly get worse. Now, even her personal spiritual mentor would see her shame. Father Ansee scrambled up and waved away the curtsey she was preparing to offer. Angvardi priests of the Way never bowed to any but their own superiors within the priesthood, not after the War of Lost Prophecy. Still, that didn't allow him to ignore her mother. "My Empress," he said respectfully, "if I may address the Princess?" None of the earlier frost had faded from her curt reply, "You may, Father." "Thank you, Your Grace." He turned to Raella and said quickly, "Princess, there is something of great urgency I must discuss with you." This was a truly rotten time. "My apologies, Father Ansee, but I—" "I wish it could wait," the priest interrupted gently, "but I fear that there is no time for delay. The will of the gods waits for nobody, not even the Imperial Household." "But—" Raella started, but already Father Ansee had turned to address her mother. "My deepest apologies, my Empress, but it is imperative that I speak to the Princess alone. It is a matter of grave concern." Celienna was clearly not pleased, not one bit. However, if she turned even one as lowly as a priest away, it would not be well received by Archpriest Onath or worse. The Tetrand had been increasingly touchy over the last couple of years, but it had grown far worse when the Sei malcontents massacred so many priests in Kubei. Even an incident as minor as this could turn into quite the headache for her in the future. It was the last thing she needed right before leaving the city for several months. "Very well," the empress said after a few moments of thought. "Will this take long?" Regret poured into Father Ansee's expression. "I am afraid that it could take a good deal of time. Fear not, Your Grace, I will ensure that she is ready in time to depart." Celienna's jaw clenched in consternation, but she had already consented. "See that you do." To her daughter, "Do not think your actions will be forgotten." Raella gulped once more as her mother continued down the hallway with her head held high. It didn't take long for her to be left alone with Father Ansee. "Come along, my child," he said as he gestured for her to march back the way she had just come from. She did so willingly, knowing that each step was one step away from her own chambers and fuming mother. She meekly followed the priest for a few minutes, barely acknowledging anyone else as they went by. It wasn't long before she could guess at their destination as being one of the small chapels held for private ceremonies or worship by someone in the palace who didn't have time to go to the Temple. Father Ansee had seemed rather insistent about whatever it was that he was so eager to speak to her about, but it must be serious if he wasn't willing to address it as they walked. They arrived at last, though they weren't alone when he opened the doors. At first, she wondered if he was going to try to go to another chapel in hopes that one would be empty. Then, she saw who the other person was. "Ellie," she squeaked breathlessly. "What are you doing here?" "Exactly as I told her to," Father Ansee answered. Raella frowned despite herself. "I don't understand." "It isn't too difficult to understand once you know that Mistress Ellis ran into me shortly after you…mishap outside the kitchens. She pleaded with me to do something to rescue you and I felt obliged to grant the dear woman's prayers." Tears of gratitude blurred Raella's vision as she ran to hug her maid. "Thank you, Ellie," she sobbed. It didn't bother her to behave like a child in front of Father Ansee. After all, it was hard to maintain propriety around a man who knew each and every one of her sins and failings. She had nothing to hide from either of them, and she couldn't say that about anyone else in all of Teladia. "I couldn't just let you take the fall for that, dear," Ellie murmured soothingly. "I know what waited for you if you and the Empress got to your chambers, so I sent Father Ansee through the quickest of the servant's hallways so he could catch you in time." Raella pulled back to arms length and asked, "But, how did you find him so quickly?" "I was looking for you," the priest said. "It wasn't too hard to figure out where you would be, not with it being lunchtime on the day you depart for Terula." Sometimes it wasn't a bad thing to have someone know of all your sins. "Thank you, Father Ansee." She let Ellie go and took a couple of steps back toward her priest. "Now, what have I told you about when we are in private?" Father Ansee said with a mock scowl. "I am sorry, Ansee," Raella said with lowered eyes. He hated it when she called added "Father" to his name. It was a necessity in public, but when they were in private, he wanted only to be called by his first name. He gave her the same courtesy, too. He said, after all, that it wasn't fair for him to ask to be addressed informally if he was going to keep calling her "child." "You are forgiven, Raella." "So you came to save me?" She could hardly believe it. "Yes, from what I know of your mother, you were headed for a most unpleasant experience. It won't do for you to be unable to sit right when we are about to head out on a long journey." Raella's cheeks burned again at the mere thought of the embarrassment she would have experienced if that news got out. Yes, it was a good thing that Ansee was sworn to secrecy concerning all things they discussed. Even then… "You lied to Mother," Raella gaped. Ansee shrugged, "Not entirely. I do have some rather important things to tell you and I don't think it would be wise to delay. I also suspect that it will take a good deal of time to explain, too, and I fully intend on having you ready before it is time to go on your journey. In fact, I think that I just might have to hold you until just before it is time to depart." Raella couldn't help herself but to throw her arms around his thin frame in a tight hug. "Thank you, Ansee. I cannot tell you what that means to me." With his plan, there was no way for her mother to have the time to discipline her. Even more importantly, there was not enough privacy on the road for her to be properly disciplined and her mother wouldn't risk doing it in the presence of others. Sure, she was going to suffer for this, but at least it wouldn't be as severe. "I cannot tell you how much you mean to me," Ansee replied. "To us both," added Ellie. "I'd take the stripes for you if I could." Raella knew that Ellie wasn't merely saying words just as Ansee wasn't exaggerating, but it felt good to hear them say that. She let Ansee go and took a few steps back to try to compose herself. "Look at me," she said while wiping her nose on her kerchief, "how foolish I am." Compassion colored the priest's voice when he answered quietly, "Not foolish, not at all. You get all too few times to be yourself. Each time you can is precious indeed. Your mother is harsh, true, but I believe she truly means well. She wants to shape you and prepare you for your destiny, and that won't be easy. Fear not, you never need to worry about hiding things or being stiff and proper around the two of us." "I know, but, well, it is just hard. Everything is building up and getting worse and worse. I fear that everything is going to come crashing down on us all." Ansee looked somber almost to the point of being stricken. "Raella, my sweet child, I wish that I could comfort you, but I have some rather disturbing news to tell you. Perhaps we had better sit down, it could take a while." When he had finished relaying the events of his meeting with High Priest Hassell, he sat back and let out a sigh of relief. Raella could tell that carrying the burden of those dark words had not been pleasant. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about it herself, but danger was nothing new to her. Every few months, there was some sort of threat against her person and assassins were a constant problem. Even then, having some petty noble angry with her was nothing like having prophecy warn of impending danger. She took a deep breath of her own and let it out slowly. "Well then," she said, the first words since Ansee began. She was surprised at how calm her voice was. "I guess things have indeed come crashing down." "Yes dear, it appears so," muttered Ellie. Cautiously, Ansee asked, "What do you want to do?" Raella held her chin up defiantly and said, "Exactly what I am supposed to do. We go to Terula and meet with my father. My life has always been in the hands of the merciful Tetrarchy, so why should I fear any more now than before? If the gods wish me dead, then there is nowhere I can hide, nobody I can run to, and nothing I can do to escape that. If it is not my fate to die, then the gods will protect me from all threats." Ansee smiled warmly and inclined his head toward her. She glowed at his pleasure and the rare sign of respect. "This," he said, "is why I believe you will be a truly great Empress. Not twenty minutes ago, you were being marched off to a rather stern strapping as meek as a lamb. Now, when you face death, you embrace the gods and show yourself a strong and mature woman." The glow quickly turned into a blush. She wasn't exactly sure he would say the same thing if he knew her thoughts, but she didn't dare argue with him. "Thank you," she managed. This was more than enough to distract her from her narrowly avoided doom and she was grateful for it. The very thought of danger, secret meetings with High Priests, mysterious pendants and letters, and the promise of excitement nearly overwhelmed her. She always looked forward to travelling, but this was going to be something else altogether and it thrilled her to her core. "Let us see this pendant of yours," she said. Ansee started and looked a bit bashful as he reached into his robes to pull it out. "I am sorry, I should have showed it to you long ago." Both Raella and Ellie gasped when they saw the eight sided figure. He frowned and asked, "What is wrong?" "That…that is just like my amulet," answered Raella incredulously. "What do you mean?" Raella carefully took it from his hands and inspected it. "It is the same size, though I think yours is a little heavier. Every angle is the same. Mine doesn't have these pretty colors, it is just pure white. Other than those two things, I think they are identical." "Where did you get such a thing?" demanded Ansee. Ellie whispered, "She has always had it. I am not sure where it came from, but I noticed it just a few days after she was born. I guessed it was a gift from some noble and never thought about it since." Raella was in shock. She had always liked the little pure white amulet and thought it was a sort of good luck charm. Her mother tolerated it because it appeared to be made of the finest ivory and such things were expensive this far north. "It cannot be a coincidence," she whispered, though she wasn't quite sure why. There was nobody nearby and the doors had been built specifically to ensure privacy. It just seemed the right thing to do. Ansee let out another deep breath, though instead of being full of relief, it was consumed in worry. "I agree. I don't know how High Priest Hassell got this, but he certainly believed it to be important. I have no idea what it means, but it must mean something that there are two of them." "It seems that we have a mystery to uncover," declared Raella. The initial surprise upon seeing the pendant had now been replaced with excitement over even more intrigue. "They could be magical, you know, something enchanted." Ansee frowned again and scratched his chin absently. "I had thought of that, but it is not a comforting one. Magic can be dangerous, especially to those who don't know how to use it." Raella laughed, "That won't be a problem. Mother has been after me for years to spend some time learning about magic. This would be a good time for me to take her up on that and go to the Wizard's College." It was true, but she would have to be careful. Since her mother was a mage and her father a wizard, they had always wanted her to learn more about magic. She had resisted because, when they were not careful, they sometimes let it show how disappointed they were that she was only a mere clairvoyant and not able to wield "proper magic." Because of that, she had grown to resent magic and resisted all of their attempts to study it. If she were to suddenly show interest, they may grow suspicious. She would have to be careful and make it seem that she didn't want to go even if she really did. More intrigue to make everything even more delightful. "That seems like a good idea, as long as you are careful," cautioned Ellie. She knew about Raella's opposition to magic, though she wisely kept that knowledge to herself around others. Ansee didn't seem entirely convinced, so Raella added, "It will be okay. The wizards in the College are the best there is and their library is extensive. I am not going to outright show them what I am after, but I think I can manage to get alone long enough to do some studying. Maybe they know what the shape means or maybe there is a way to detect what sort of magic may be inside them, if any." The discomfort diminished, but it didn't entirely leave his body. He did relax a little, though. "Now," he said as he took back the pendant from Raella, "we have a few more hours before it is safe to leave. I think we should lay some plans and perhaps make some preparations. I can search among the Temple there while you do that. Ellie, you will need to watch out for anyone that might be suspicious of us. Servants can go places and see things without notice that the two of us could not." "I think that is an excellent idea," replied Raella as her mind raced. "Here is what we can do…" By the time the Imperial entourage left the gates of Angvard, Raella felt far more confident in her future. She had managed to avert disaster at the hands of her mother and, despite learning of danger to her life, make some plans with the two people in the world she trusted the most. Her mother still glared at her from time to time, but there was only so much she could do when surrounded by the First Battalion of the First Legion consisting of almost fifty-two hundred men, six hundred servants and camp followers, and a hundred minor nobles and courtiers. She was safe for now and they had plenty of time before arriving in Terula City to allow her mother's temper to cool off. It was going to be a long trip. They would be able to make the eighteen hundred mile journey in two months if they were moving quickly. Normally, it took four months to make the journey since it was only considered polite to spend at least one night in the multitude of manor houses and noble's estates that dotted the road. It was all part of the seemingly endless cycle that the Royal/Imperial family had adopted. She was almost constantly travelling between the two great capitals and only rarely was able to see both of her parents together. Though they were married and did deeply love each other, her parents were constantly under great pressure from their positions so it was hard for them to leave their capitals. This trip was a rare occurrence for her mother because Celienna wanted to see her husband and hoped to present a show of unification in these dark times with the two of them together. With the Unity Campaign and the signs of the approaching Coming Darkness, they might not take so long. They would have left sooner excepting there were many issues that required the Empress to remain in her crown city. If Raella had any say, they wouldn't spend so long in estates, even if it meant more nights in tents instead of warm guest rooms. There were answers in Terula to questions she desperately wanted to know about and that made it worth the extra hardship. She was off to a grand adventure, that much she was sure of. When she was younger, she loved it when Ellie told her stories of heroes from the past and the marvelous times they had. To think that she could be facing one of her very own was exciting. There would be danger and there would be fear, but she was in the god's hands, now and always. She had yearned for excitement and adventure when she was girl and dreaded the thought of being stuck in a palace all of her life. This time, she just knew that things were going to be different. Life was taking a turn and things were growing so very interesting. She only hoped that on she would be able to remember all the exciting things that were bound to happen for the rest of her life.

I am sorry for the delay. I have been busy and consumed with other details. I meant to have Chapter 36 finished by now, but my inspiration has been directed elsewhere, to the Epilogue. Right now, all I have left is Chapter 36 and the Epilogue because Chapter 37 is already finished and, at this point, that is the last chapter of the book. As a reward for your patience, I am going to post a bit of the Epilogue. It offers no spoilers for the last couple of chapters, so fear not in reading it (you will see why when you do). I am to go out big with this Epilogue and leave a LOT of questions behind. The difficulty in writing this is that I must often pause and think just to work out how all of this works and what I do and don't want to reveal. It is not easy because I have very specific things in mind for the Immortals. I don't want to reveal too much too quickly, nor do I want to throw out everything without giving myself a stool to stand on in the future. I want to be able to unleash surprises in later books and be able to point back to this as groundwork so it doesn't look like I am pulling things out of my backside. I believe that when I get around to revealing the rest of what I have written and intend to write in this Epilogue, you will be thoroughly impressed and left eager for more. _______________________ Epilogue Hall of Strakuuvindor The Immortal Realm Suella was careful not to let her eyes wander as she stepped into the sacred Hall of Strakuunvindor, meeting place of the Katei'mindosh Protectorate. In all of the Immortal Realm, this was the one place where any of the Protectorate were welcome and harm could befall none. At least, that was what was supposed to happen. Sometimes, things went wrong, as had happened when the vile Crusos had offered grave insult to Kama'uel, the Most Deprived of the Stoics. Kama'uel had been wroth with fury and chased Crusos out of the hall with a scourge. She felt no fear in entering this place, not with the mighty warrior Erastmus lumbering beside her with his usual threatening gaze challenging any who would hold it. Even among immortal Immortals, not many wanted to risk his wrath, even if a few might be able to challenge his strength. She had to constantly remind herself that there was no reason to feel fear or intimidation, not here of all places. Yes, the various races that made up the Protectorate were supposedly at peace and not to prey on each other, but there were always…disagreements. Immortals couldn't be killed, but they could have great pain inflicted upon them and they could be bound, even if it was against the Treaty to do so to a fellow Katei'mindoshi. Those who encroached where they were not welcome often found themselves wishing they hadn't. She had never been a warrior and was counted among the weakest of the Elements. Just as Mewela of the Tetrarchy would never grace a battlefield unless at the greatest of needs, neither was it Suella's purpose to strive against the Deta'takame, the forces of Chaos. Her strengths lie in compassion, healing, and the caring of mortals. Few of their number could spend any amount of time in the Mortal Realm and she was one of those. That meant that she had some measure of respect here, though she was nowhere near as respected as Erastmus or Maegamus. Those two were among the mightiest of all of the Element's warriors and had earned great glory in the struggle against the Deta'takame. Her affinity for mortals was why she was here before the Great Council. Against all odds and completely to her bafflement, she had been the one fated to be the guardian of the mortal known as Syler Penion. Each of the Immortal Races had multiple of their number constantly walking among the Mortal Realm searching for the Master of Magic, the Prophesied One, all hoping that they would be the one who could guide and direct them. Nobody, not even the most mighty Tantis of the Tetrarchy, knew where he would come from. Only the Voice knew that, and the Voice had chosen not to reveal it to any as low as the Immortals. It had been to her absolute shock to discover that one of the Sei boys that had attracted her eye had revealed himself to be the Master of Magic himself. When she first encountered him on that stormy night in the hills, she had seen in him something that spoke of an unique life. The Elements were always gifted at seeing what might come from mortals and she was no different. In him, she saw a man of singular character who would be strong, a great general or a powerful lord. Never had she thought that he would turn out to be the One they all sought. Before finding out his true destiny, she had preserved his life or guided it along a better path, even if he didn't know it. It had not been until his powers activated and he was Realized in the place mortals called Kubei that she and all of the Realm knew what he was. At that very moment, all of the Immortal Realm shook with power as the Voice revealed the presence of the Prophesied One to all. When she heard the Voice's words, Suella knew it was only a matter of time before being summoned before the Great Council. She had only been here twice before, and neither time had been exactly pleasant. This time, though, it was almost guaranteed that she would be held to task and examined carefully by the Council. She feared what they may decide, though she would stand firm in her beliefs no matter what. "Relax, Suella," said the deep, almost gravelly voice of Erastmus. "I am here and you could ask for none better to stand at your side save Salgeus himself, and I would fight him for an era for your sake." She smiled at his kind words. Truth be told, she had never been particularly close to the hulking warrior until their encounter with Syler Penion. She had not expected the dark skinned champion to care about a mere mortal, but he had been drawn in to her encounter and reveled in any chance to bring Crusos down a notch. The two had been running a feud for a great amount of time, though she did not know what started it. "I know you are here," she replied softly. "It gives me great comfort, but we both know that you cannot defy the will of the Council." He looked down at her and, with fire in his eyes, replied, "Do not fear for your safety when in my presence. Even if it meant an era in bondage to the Deta'takame, I would stand at your side. You have great honor and great valor, even if you do not see it." As much as could be possible, Suella blushed. "I thank you for your kind words, Erastmus. I don't know what I did to earn the attention of one as mighty as yourself, but I do not count your friendship lightly." A strange look crossed the warriors face, but he said nothing. Instead, his fierce gaze passed over the gathered Immortals once again as if seeking out possible threats. After he was satisfied, he moved aside and allowed her to enter the foyer. Both of them stood there until being summoned to actually enter the Hall. One as humble and weak as herself would never presume to demand that the Hall bend to her will, so she would wait. Erastmus might have gotten away with barging in, but he did not wish to cause a scene that might make things more difficult for her. All of the Lords Immortal were present and that wasn't a good sign at all. The great gold doors that led to the Hall cracked open ponderously and a single figure cloaked in radiant gold emerged. Suella forced herself to keep her head held high and not shrink back at the sight of Gatekeeper Zah'elios. The towering Daedash was truly a terrifying being to behold, even Erastmus tread lightly around him. With skin and raiment that glowed with brilliant radiant light, it was difficult to look upon him for long. In his hands was a double sided spear that stood twelve feet tall, though next to his nine foot height, it wasn't so awkward looking. On one end of the spear was a point of pure light; on the other was a tip of abject darkness. "Suella of the Elements," he said in a booming voice, "you have been summoned before the Hall of Strakuuvindor." His eyes fell upon the dark skinned warrior standing next to her. In a much lower, almost threatening voice, he added, "Erastmus of the Elements, you have not been summoned." Erastmus rested his hands on the pommel of the sword at his side and set his jaw. "Nonetheless, I am here." Zah'elios did not seem amused in the least. "You will remain here." With a shake of his head, Erastmus replied, "No, where Suella goes, I go." "You presume to dictate terms to the Hall?" Zah'elios said imperiously. "Call me inspired by the Master of Magic," replied Erastmus with a mocking smile that didn't do anything to change the hardness in his eyes. "It is not permi—." For a second, the Daedash's radiance seemed to dim slightly as his voice trailed off. Suella was about to ask if something was wrong when the brilliance returned to its previous level. When he spoke, his voice seemed resentful, if not a trifle angry. "It seems the Hall has granted your request to accompany Suella of the Elements." Without giving any acknowledgment or gratitude, Erastmus gently took Suella's arm and guided her around the Gatekeeper and into the Hall itself. Once through the gold doors, they entered an entirely new environment, one that showcased the glory of the Immortal Realm in a way not seen anywhere else.