Travis

Yet again, I have created an entirely new chapter to put in here. For quite some time, I was not happy with the transition between Syler's become Lord of Thwrud and his going off to find Karusa. I kept thinking: why would a group of fiercely xenophobic and proudly arrogant people just accept an outsider who didn't even know their language and had only been within their territory for a couple of days? The answer I kept coming back to was: they wouldn't. Whether Lord Saekoris liked it or not and regardless to what prophecy said, I just couldn't rationalize the Krue accepting him as a Lord at that stage. I tried to build up Syler's credibility with what happened on their return from going after Karusa, but that was just too little too late and was mainly geared toward getting other clans to accept him (or not). So, what I did was expand the arena scene in the last chapter as well as create this chapter. It serves multiple functions. It allows some transition between major events in this part of the novel (which I thought fell under the "too much too fast" category). It allows Delmonor to continue working with Syler (which he does even more next chapter) thus explaining why he rises within Syler's court so quickly in the future It introduces the female warrior Relwind more formally (she was kinda a tagalong in the first draft) and allows me to explore the (radical) Kruish concept of female warriors just a tiny bit. And finally, it allows me to show why Syler would be accepted (as well as giving Vekla another bada moment). So, all that being said, enjoy the new material and prepare yourself for more new material in the next chapter (or two). ______________ Chapter 28 The Krue may appear to be a single, united race, but they are not. The Krue are actually a collection of smaller fiefdoms ruled by various lords. They cooperate together to protect their lands from outsiders, but beyond that, there is often great rivalry between the different clans. Each lord has great control over his or her clan's lands, but are also responsible for protecting them from other clans. — The Krue: A Valiant Race by Terl Fongalto Thwrud Subeleth October 4 "What…is…this?" demanded Syler through clenched teeth. He spoke each word slowly, clearly, and with exaggerated enunciation. "It seems to be a small display of Kruish military might in honor of their new lord," sniped Lamastus from beside him. Unlike his friend, the Angvardi seemed to find the entire situation quite amusing and was not afraid to show it. Syler was clearly not amused. It was bad enough that the pain in his leg was preventing him from walking normally, now he was going to be paraded in front of hundreds of warriors so they could all see it. After what happened in the arena, the only thing he wanted to do was get himself some herbs for his leg and get every Krue out of his sight. Now, he was going to be right up in front of more Krue than he could count. Delmonor must have read his mind because he said, "Fear not, bwet ley. There is great honor in receiving wounds in battle with worthy foes. Lord Saekoris was very worthy." "Great," replied Syler while rolling his eyes. "So I now have an honorably crippling wound." "Syler, calm down," said Bronwyn softly. She put her hand on his forearm and gave it a light squeeze. "They are only doing what they know. In this difficult time, they get comfort from doing what is most familiar. It is no easier for them to have to mourn a beloved Inthaley while embracing a foreigner who doesn't even speak their language." "Hey, I didn't ask for this." Syler stopped just up the street from where it looked like two entire companies of fully armed and armored warriors had lined up on both sides of the street for his inspection. If they took notice of him or his pause, they didn't react, but kept standing in parade formation facing forward. "No," said Lamastus, "but you have it. What is wrong with you? You have gone from being a fugitive on the run from the most powerful empire on Teladia with a dying wife to having miraculously healed your wife and becoming a wealthy, powerful clan lord in perhaps the only kingdom on Teladia who can stand up to those who want to kill you. Men would kill to be in your place, and you can do nothing but get angry." "I never wanted power," said Syler. "All I wanted was peace and the ability to one day find a woman to love and raise some kids. I found the woman and now it seems that everyone suddenly wants to interfere with and control my life." "At least ya have yer friends," Havert pointed out. "Could be far worse than that, eh?" "We know it is a lot to take in," said Alltis soothingly, "but sometimes we all have to face what life has in store for us." Syler wasn't going to be comforted this easily. "I have always accepted what fate had in store for me, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. After what happened with them while bargaining for Bronwyn's life, I have become rather soured with the Elements." There was a quizzical look on the faces of everyone except Bronwyn. "Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" asked Havert. Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't had time to properly tell the others about his dealings with Crusos and the other Elements. "Never mind, I will tell you later." Havert looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it when he saw the expression on Bronwyn's face telling him to drop it. "'Kay, I guess we can hear later." "Bwet ley, should we move forward?" Delmonor asked hesitantly. "Yea, we wouldn't want to keep all those fine looking gentlemen waiting for us," Lamastus chimed in. "At least try to look like you are interested or else they may take offense and I really don't want to have a horde of offended Krue after me." Syler shook his head in defeat and hobbled forward. As much as he didn't want to pay them much attention, he couldn't help himself. He was too fascinated with the armor they wore and the various weapons carried by these warriors not to. Being a blacksmith meant that he was always curious about what others were doing and trying to find out how they did it. If there was anything to like about the Krue, it was their close attention to detail in all of their craftsmanship. He knew just enough about armor to know that the leather they wore, while light, was probably nearly as strong as most of the mail that other kingdoms utilized. It wouldn't stand up against the solid steel of plate armors, but it had the benefit of added mobility and being less exhausting to balance things out. He also noticed that these men wore fairly heavy steel mail hauberks under a leather brigandine like what Delmonor had given him at the arena. The longer mail of the hauberks covered their entire arms as well as down to their mid-thigh. The mounted warriors wore only a heavy boiled brigandine and scale bracers on the parts of the arms and legs that were exposed during mounted combat. These warriors were clearly infantry as their heavy armor was more suited to hand to hand combat on foot. He got to one particular warrior and had to do a double take. Like all of the warriors in formation, this one wore a dark steel sallet helm with a visor that covered their face down to the chin. That style offered protection while giving plenty of access to air and kept the warrior cooler while giving them the mobility to look around that heavier helms sometimes lacked. What caught his eye was that, unlike every single other Kruish man he had seen since arriving in this city except Lord Saekoris, this particular warrior didn't have a beard. Syler paused in curiosity and gave the man a closer look. To his surprise, he noticed that this warrior's armor had been modified to allow for the slight swell of breasts and he realized that this was no man, but a female warrior. He cocked his head a little and appraised the woman with an arched brow. Delmonor, seeing the extra attention, stepped forward to say, "The Krue welcome all who properly wield weapons and have desire to protect their clan." Syler was intrigued despite himself. "Even women?" "Women can be just as fierce as men, and often be more cunning." "I never knew that the Krue had women in their ranks," commented Lamastus thoughtfully. "Many women fight for the People," replied Delmonor. This was a totally new concept for him and, right now, he would take any distraction that took his mind off of everything else. Syler stroked his beard and asked, "How are they treated?" "They have same standards as man, though they often be better to prove worthiness. They have equal pay and the same share of bounty and pillage from victories." The woman continued to stare forward blankly, clearly not understanding anything that was being said about her. Syler was curious enough to ask, "What is her name?" "Neith fos nuath teskan, dhalka?" asked Delmonor. The woman didn't hesitate in replying, "Relwind Hastor se Thattos, bwet ley." "Her name is—" Delmonor started. "Yes, I know," interrupted Syler. "I may not know your tongue, but I am not stupid." "Dalmabwes—forgive me," Delmonor said with a quick bow. "Tell her that she is the first female warrior I have ever met." It was true, other than the magically gifted, he had never met a woman who fought alongside men. While he did, Lamastus commented, "They have oversized horses, poor fashion senses, brutal entertainment, peculiar methods of succession, and now warrior women. These Krue are just full of surprises, aren't they?" "And yet," countered Syler, "I notice that your armies bypassed them in favor of going after weaker prey." The Angvardi nodded in begrudging agreement. "Point taken, my friend." That at least got a small smile from Syler, though it didn't last long. "Perhaps we should move on," he suggested. Before he did, he told Delmonor one more thing. "Tell her that I admire her willingness to be matched against men and hope to see her fight one day." He continued to hobble along while his guide translated his message. Now that he knew what to look for, he noticed several women among the ranks. Even then, out of the twelve hundred or so warriors, he guessed only fifty or so were women. After going through the gauntlet of warriors, Syler began to grow suspicious about where exactly they were being led. He hadn't yet come close to being able to memorize the layout of this city, but he didn't think they were heading back to the estate. "Where are we going, Delmonor?" he asked. "We go to ka inthadaeka." "Is that what you call Lord Saekoris' house?" "No," replied Bronwyn, "that is some sort of clan meeting place, right?" Delmonor nodded, "It is the hall of the clan. It is where you were first brought." Syler's face grew dark, "I asked to be taken to his house so we can rest." "This was known, but not possible." The warrior met Syler's gaze without turning away. "You are the Inthaley, things are required of you first." "What sort of things?" asked Syler suspiciously. "The lesser leyi must acknowledge your claim and humble themselves before you." Lamastus jumped in, "You mean they have to throw themselves at his feet and proclaim him the best of all the lords they ever had?" He elbowed Havert and whispered, "This could be good." Syler glared at his friend for a second then returned his attention to the hapless Delmonor. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bronwyn cut him off with a gentle touch on the small of his back. "I am sure that wherever we are going, there will be someone there to better see to his leg," she said in a placating voice. "Even Inthaleyi can be wearied and weakened by the frailty of the flesh." "Pasu, bwet leya," Delmonor said with a bow. "The vostraes thadak should be there." "Then we had best hurry," she said while throwing a pointed look at her husband. When they finally arrived at the Clan House, Syler's mood was simmering and just waiting to be given another excuse to boil over. What they found just might have done the trick except for Bronwyn's death grip upon his upper arm reminding him to keep himself under control. As furious as he was at the Krue right now, he didn't want to do anything that would give Bronwyn cause to be cross with him. For her sake, he did his best to keep his face neutral. There were a few men and women present already, but Delmonor assured him that more would come to pay homage to him and declare their loyalty. Syler ignored them as he hobbled his way up to the raised chair where he had first seen Lord Saekoris. He didn't want to sit there, but Delmonor, with Lamastus' assistance, were guiding him there and not giving him much choice. As he settled down in the throne, he couldn't keep the grimace off of his face. His leg was throbbing and sending pain shooting up his entire side. "The healer?" he asked as soon as he was settled and his guides were satisfied. Within a minute, he saw a diminutive figure work her way through the gathered nobility and sighed in a mixture of relief and annoyance. The same healer woman who had tried to help Bronwyn was now coming to help him. When she saw him, she clacked her tongue and said, "You be needing much help, I see. I sense trouble from ye, much trouble indeed." "He is your Inthaley now, speak with respect," a clearly irritated Delmonor snapped from behind her. Without any look of concern, she continued toward Syler and knelt down to inspect his calf. When Delmonor took a step forward, she smirked and said, "So I done hear, dhalka. Do you wish me to prostrate meself before him while his wound grows worse?" "Enough," said Syler as he pounded his fist on the chair. "Let her get on with it." She crackled quietly to herself as she slowly unwrapped the temporary bandage that Jaquill had given him. "Ahh, Jaquiil be a good lad, but he be needing to learn more of battle wounds. Been treating too many illnesses and not enough proper wounds lately." Syler gave a sharp intake of breath as she probed his wound. His hands were clenched on the armrests of his throne as he struggled not to give voice to his pain. With the eyes of the others on him, he needed to be strong and show no weakness. The healer woman was putting something on his leg that stung like fire and caused his eyes to water. "I was never told your name," said Syler, trying to find a way to distract himself from the pain of what she was doing. "What is it?" The woman cackled manically and said, "So the mighty ley wishes to hear the name of a poor old woman? How amusing." In no mood to argue or toss around banter, Syler shrugged and replied, "Okay then, don't tell me." "Do not get testy, my ley, I just be teasing you. Old women such as meself must get our amusements where we can." She reached over to one of the warriors and pulled out a small glass flask and various vials from the chest he held. While humming annoyingly to herself, she began pouring various liquids and powders into the flask and shaking it around. "What are you mixing?" Syler asked in spite of himself. He was the son of an alchemist, so his curiosity got the better of him. "I know it not in your tongue, but we call it dhalkaesiin. It is mostly a mixture of vasta, khosako, and thukornae with maliikas added for good measure." "Warriors Companion?" asked Alltis. "That is what you are giving him?" "If that be your name for it, yes," the woman replied. "What does it contain?" asked Syler. "I be sorry, I know not the names of the herbs in your tongue," the healer woman admitted. "I believe 'thukornae' is sage," Bronwyn said. Syler recognized the herb because he had used it himself to treat Bronwyn and others before. He wasn't too concerned about it because Lord Saekoris had trusted the woman. He would satisfy his curiosity at a later time. A young man wearing flowing dark red robes without any of the normal Kruish furs or leather approached the small group. Syler noticed that he was wanting to gain his attention, but wouldn't initiate things and figured that it was another of the whole lordship things. He waved the man forward and asked, "Do you understand me?" The man nodded and said, "I do speak the Outsiders Tongue, my lord." His words were surprisingly devoid of the heavy accent and sometimes strange pronunciation that the other Krue used. If anything, he almost reminded Syler of how Vekla spoke when not distracted. "What is it that you want me for?" The man bowed and answered, "It has caught my notice that you are injured. If my lord permits, I wish to offer my services." The skin beneath Syler's eyes twitched. In a low voice, he asked, "And what services are those?" The man hesitated briefly, then collected himself. "My deepest apologies, my lord. I assumed you recognized my robes. I am Mage Second Class Zago Khaflar and I am skilled in natural and perspective magics. If my lord would permit, I will heal his leg." "If you could, then you will have my deepest gratitude." The healer woman looked at her new rival with disdain, but backed away with only a sniff of indignation. Zago advanced up to the throne and knelt before Syler just as the other woman had. Instead of prodding the wound with his fingers, he held his hands out above the wound and closed his eyes. At first, his expression was calm and in control, but within half a minute, his brows were furrowed and the top of his forehead was wrinkled. It took another thirty seconds before he admitted defeat. He gasped as though he had been holding his breath and looked up at Syler with wide eyes full of disbelief. "I…" he panted in distress, "I can't…seem to read you. Are you intentionally trying to block me?" Syler sighed in frustration and fell back into his throne. He had feared that this would happen. Back in the arena, he had considered asking Vekla to heal him, but things were a little hectic there and she seemed justifiably distracted and distraught. Even were she not, he doubted that she could have done anything. "It isn't you, it is me," he said. "Apparently magic doesn't work on me like normal people. You could blast me with the most powerful fire you could conjure and I wouldn't even feel the warmth. It has its advantages, but in times like this, I really hate it." Zago backed away on his knees and nearly fell down the steps leading up to the throne. "It is not possible! It cannot be! You are the One, the Master of Magic, the Majiyae Oretezu!" In a louder voice, he shouted, "Kota fos ka Majiyae Oretezu, ka ley se quanos!" Ignoring Syler's displeasure, he scrambled to his feet and pointed at him while continuing on in Kruish. Those gathered in the hall were quick to take notice though not all looked surprised. More had come since he had arrived including many who likely had been at the arena and already knew what happened there. There was a lot of discussion in the hall, none of it which he understood. The healer woman, ignoring the rest of the room, returned to his side and commented wryly, "It be looking as though me services be needed once more, no?" Syler didn't respond, but he did let her continue her treatment of his calf. Syler let the men in the room continue to talk and even argue with each other while he thought of what he could say or do to settle things down. He was no fool and had no misconceptions about the position he now found himself in. Men in power were targets, especially when someone felt they were weak. Lord Saekoris might think he was doing right by his clan by giving them the supposed savior of the world as their leader, but Syler wasn't so sure. As far as he was concerned, prophecy could be damned because it now meant that Thwrud was without a good leader and he was trapped in a role he wasn't prepared for or really wanted. If he wasn't careful, any one of these brawny warrior nobles just might decide that rule was best left in their own hands and take action against him. Clearly, peaceful retirement wasn't exactly an option for one in his position. It seemed that the easiest way to gain power would be to kill the foreigner who sat on the throne before he could start establishing support. Right now, Syler wasn't up to fighting much and he didn't think he had enough friends to protect him were a number of these nobles take action. He needed a way to make sure they recognized that he was in power, but that he wasn't going to try to destroy their way of life. He couldn't give them any signs of weakness, but he couldn't let them think he would be some iron fisted tyrant, either. He was never good with words, but if he wanted to keep his all of his blood inside him where it belonged, he had better learn quickly. More men and a handful of women arrived while he was thinking and being tended to. There were now dozens of individuals wearing a variety of leather and fur clustered within the hall. Some had taken to the long benches at the tables that ran along either side of the fire pit, but most remained standing and talking to one another in little groups. He didn't recognize any of them except Zago who kept running from group to group with wide eyes and speaking in frantic tones. He did see two others who were wearing robes similar to Zago, though instead of red, theirs were dark blue. Syler didn't know if that meant they were more or less powerful than him, but it didn't matter because, apparently, no mage of any strength was a threat to him with their magic. "Havert," he said. The redhead snapped out of whatever daydreams he had been enjoying. "Huh?" "Give me your sword, mine was destroyed in the arena." They both had been wearing the same type of Seinari made sword that Growald had given them before the attack on the temple, so it would fit within his scabbard and he was familiar with it. He hesitated in disarming one of his friends when a potential threat was near, but he would rather have Lamastus armed than Havert since the guardsman had spent his life as a soldier. "Um, yea, sure," Havert replied as he slowly pulled his sword out and handed it over. Syler placed it in his own scabbard and took a few deep breaths to prepare him for the showdown that he knew was coming. He had been so lost in thought that he didn't realize that most of the pain in his leg had faded. Whatever the woman had put onto the gash numbed the pain considerably. He might not be able to put his full weight on it, but at least walking would cause him to go dizzy with pain. That made him feel a lot more confident about what he was about to do. As soon as the healer woman had bandaged his calf up, he stood up. He ignored the protests of both Bronwyn and the healer woman and forced himself to remain steady without assistance. "Delmonor," Syler said, "translate what I say." Once he received a nod of confirmation, he began speaking, pausing every few sentences to let him translate. "I am Syler Penion of Sandrin and yes, I am the Majiyae Oretezu. For better or for worse, I was forced to defend my claim in front of thousands of your fellow Krue by slaying your former lord, Avenil Saekoris. I am told that makes me your new clan lord by right of combat and prophecy." "I am not a Krue and I do not know your ways. I did not seek this power, but it has found me. I am not a politician who knows of politics and negotiation and of good speeches. I am a blacksmith who knows of hard work, metal, and sweat. "I know many of you have issues and concerns about the future, and I assure you that you are not alone. When I can, I will begin consulting with your elders and nobles so that we can find some way to allow this clan to operate under the rule of an outsider until I can learn more about my role. Until then, it is my will that you continue to conduct business as you have and not change things until you hear otherwise from me." He paused to let Delmonor finish translating and to let everyone soak in what he said. "Do not think that makes me weak. I am not a warrior by profession or choice, but by circumstance. I have gone to battle and have killed men who stood against me. Make no mistake, I will fight if pushed and I will defend those I love. Many of you will have heard of how I came here with my wife under a curse and stood up against the Elements themselves to save her. That is not a rumor, that is a fact. You must now ask yourselves: what kind of strength and courage does a man who would stand up against the Immortals possess and do you really want to challenge such a man?" Taking a gamble, he let his anger and frustration over the events of the day flow through him. Boldness had favored him when dealing with the Elements, perhaps it would serve him well here, too. When he thought he was angry enough, he glowered down at them in a direct challenge. If the Krue preferred strength and directness, then he would offer it. Wounded or not, he was not a small man and right now, his anger felt intense enough to boil water. He drew his sword and planted it tip first in the wood floor in front of him. In a loud, clear, and angry voice, he said, "Are there any here who take issue with that or the fact that I am now the Inthaley of Thwrud? Any who want to challenge my position? If so, let them do so now. If not, bow down before me and pledge your eternal loyalty to me as your rightful inthaley." Once Delmonor finished, all eyes were on the foreigner standing in defiance in front of him. Only the sound of crackling fire intruded upon the silence present in the hall as the assorted men waited for something to happen. Eyes began to scan those around them as each man was wanting to see what their fellow nobles were thinking, but none dared speak a word. As the seconds passed, Syler began to hope that perhaps his gamble had paid off and that nobody would challenge him. That hope was soon dashed when a particularly large and burly man swathed in thick furs and wearing a long, braided beard stepped forward and crossed his arms in defiance. "Kae sarbwekheith fao pandraukh!" He spat on the ground in front of him. "He says he won't follow a foreigner," Delmonor whispered in translation, though Syler already got the idea. Several others crossed their arms across their chest and spat on the ground in front of them. Other individuals slowly began to back away from them as the battle lines were formed. There were about a dozen who stood with the challenger, but so far, none had openly declared for Syler himself. Those who hadn't declared against him were waiting in neutrality to see how Syler responded and handled himself. Their decisiveness wasn't inspiring, but at least they weren't actively against him. "Now I have to kill him, right?" he asked. Delmonor replied, "That is the strongest response, but you could always command one of your loyal followers to fight on your behalf. It is safer, but it is not as powerful of a sign." Syler stared into the challenger's eyes and asked, "Neith fos nuath teskan?" He wanted to know the man's name before they went at it. "Kae vsu Ley Sutotar Yaegran," the man replied. "Tell him I accept his challenge and will fight him myself," Syler responded without taking his eyes off of Lord Yaegran. When Bronwyn tried to protest, his clenched fist snapped up commanding a silence that she knew better than to break. He considered his options and decided that if he were going to go out, it might as well as be with a bang. Holding back hadn't helped him so far, so why start now? With a sneer of contempt, Syler added, "Tell him that he is not a worthy enough foe to face on even footing and that I must fight him while wounded in order for there to be a fair fight." He wanted everyone in the room to know that he was wounded and not at his best so that if he won, they would hopefully fear him even more. Such a thing, he hoped, would discourage further challenges and solidify his position without needing to face challenger after challenger. Lord Yaegran turned red with fury when he heard that. He pulled his axe off of his back and started clawing his way through a rapidly scattering crowd. Syler had hoped that they would go outside to fight, but it appeared that his comment had enraged his foe and that they would be fighting here and now. At least he would have the high ground. Once he made the decision to fight, Syler didn't hesitate. His weapon was already in his hand so he flipped it up and into the ready position. He rotated to where his uninjured right side was facing his opponent and braced himself with both hands on his sword for the Kruish lord to get into range. Steel clashed against steel as the two of them all but slammed into each other. Lord Yaegran, determined to quickly destroy his foe and aided by the rage at the insult thrown against him, charged in with no finesse or strategy beyond the desire to crush everything in his path. He saw his foe as nothing more than a wounded, pathetic foreigner who was nothing more than an insect to be crushed so he could acquire power for himself. The blacksmith couldn't stand against the much larger warrior, but that wasn't Syler's intent. Instead of trying to stop him or the giant, heaving swing of his axe, Syler deflected the man's momentum off to his side and straight into the throne they were fighting over. The axe head dug into the back of the chair and the lord himself was thrown face first into it. Ignoring Lord Yaegran's roar of fury, Syler disengaged his sword and tried to hack at his opponent while he was sprawled halfway in the throne with his knees on the ground in front of it. The warrior was too quick for that and quickly grabbed Syler's two hands with his free one thus preventing him from landing the blow. Syler leaned his weight into the sword hoping that his two arms would be stronger than his foe's one, but Lord Yaegran countered by abandoning his wedged axe and slammed his fist into Syler's midsection. If he hadn't been wearing the brigandine from the arena, Syler would have probably doubled over in agony and the fight would have been over. As it was, the blow hurt, but didn't shake Syler's resolve or ability to fight. He had only to conjure the image of Bronwyn and Karusa's faces to find the will to continue on. Syler tried to shift his weight to the side hoping to wrench his sword away from Lord Yaegran's grip, but the Krue simply added the strength of his second arm to the tug of war. Both men were struggling to gain control of the hilt while glaring into each other's eyes with fury and hatred. Syler grunted with effort as he tried to force the blade down into his opponent's flesh, but he wasn't as strong as his foe and Lord Yaegran knew it. With a cruel smile, he began to get his feet under him and started standing up to gain more leverage. Slowly, bit by bit, the sword began to hover closer to Syler's shoulder. Syler had to do something quickly or this fight wouldn't last for long. With a snarl, Syler took a risk and tugged one of his hands free from the contest for the sword. Without leaving Lord Yaegran's gaze, his hand darted down to his belt and back up in the blink of an eye. The Kruish lord's eyes widened slightly with realization of what had happened and his mouth opened in a wordless gasp of shock and pain. His eyes slowly turned down to behold the hilt of the knife sticking out of his gut with dark red liquid pouring out over his own stomach and covering Syler's hand. Syler's upper lip curled in disdain as he twisted the knife up under Lord Yaegran's ribs and into the man's lungs. Blood gushed from Lord Yaegran's mouth and down into his beard. With one final gasp that sent flecks of blood all over Syler's face, the challenger let go of the sword they had been contesting and collapsed with the knife still in his gut onto the ground in front of the throne and the gaze of Thwrud's nobility. No sooner had the body hit the floor then a boom of lightning broke the resulting silence with shouts of alarm and death. Syler whirled around to see what happened and was astonished at what he saw. The first thing he noticed was an absolutely furious looking Vekla Saekoris standing atop a large crate near the door of the hall. Dark energy still crackled from her fingertips and strands of her long, straight black hair stood on end. The second thing he noticed was the smell of charred flesh and blood. He took his eyes off the enraged sorceress and beheld the dozen blackened corpses and the rapidly expanding red pools expanding from each. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation for the slaughter when he realized that each of the bodies were where Lord Yaegran's supporters had been standing. Vekla's enraged voice broke through the ensuing chaos as she shouted, "Vakooth nuamus! Vakooth nuamus! Vakooth nuamus quanos eka nuath pusdosta!" Bronwyn rushed to her husband's side and began translating what Vekla was shouting as the sorceress continued to lash out against the gathered lords. "Shame to you! Shame to you for your cowardice! Lord Saekoris, my father and your sworn lord, sacrificed himself to give you the Majiyae Oretezu, the one who will be greatest of all mortals. He expected you to abide by his wishes and you hesitated. Shame, shame to you! "You are unworthy of the gift my father gave you. He gave you a chance to stand first among all Krue, but you did not accept his gift. Because of your hesitation, you shall be humbled. Lord Penion has defended his right and slain the bastard who challenged him. Bow! Bow down before your lord and master, Lord Syler Penion of Sandrin, or I will cut you down as I did those who stood with the traitorous Sutothar! " When faced with the wrath of a sorceress on one side and Syler's glowering visage on the other, all those who were gathered fell to their knees, bowed their heads, and clasped their right fist over their heart. Syler stood tall and dispassionate with Lord Yaegran's blood still on his hand and face while the survivors came forward one by one to bow and pledge their loyalty to him. More came and, upon seeing the scene and hearing the tale, were quick to bend the knee and swear allegiance. Throughout it all, Syler didn't acknowledge a single one of them. He stood there tall and furious with his wife and friends beside him. The only eyes his met during that hour were the equally furious brown eyes of the sorceress whose father he had killed and, in doing so, had somehow earned her loyalty and protection. In the end, Syler wanted nothing more than to return to the simple little house he had with Bronwyn back in Kubei and pretend none of the last month had happened.

The first one was indeed a mistake, but when I was going through it, I also noticed another. I meant to have Delmonor say "IT will help you" not "I will help you." That and the other sentence has been fixed as follows: I fixed the stomping part as follows: I also removed the bone part as you suggested. The original thought I had was that it nicked his bone, not cut through it outright. However, for simplicity's sake, I think I will just leave it out to avoid confusing anyone. However, I am going to keep the end as it was. Syler would be too embarrassed to point that out just yet because then it would mean admitting he missed it earlier and wouldn't want to call attention to his mistake by directly mentioning it. If I am not mistaken, there is a part coming up soon where he acknowledges their familial relationship and apologizes while expressing his condolences, he is just too angry and caught up (as well as in pain) to mess with something like that right at that moment.

Order up! Next chapter is here, and this one has been expanded since being split off from the previous one. I went into far more detail in just about everything here to help it make more sense to me. After reflection, I was never quite happy with how Avenil Saekoris, a renown swordsman (as shown by the skills he imbued into Syler's first set of armor), would not go to battle with a blade. Therefore, I decided to give him and Syler one (since Syler had been carrying a sword ever since the Temple at Kubei). I also wanted to give a little time between the end of this battle and him setting out for Karusa, so I came up with a clever little plot gimmick to grant me that (I won't spoil it). I also managed to give Vekla a good deal more emotion and explain more of what exactly was going on here. I think you will like it, so read on, good sir. _____________ Chapter 27 Our ways are sometimes called harsh or brutal by outsiders. We would disagree. Our ways are necessary to remain strong and to ensure that we remain true to our purpose. — Lord Avenil Saekoris of Clan Thwrud Thwrud Subeleth October 4 With Vekla and Delmonor leading the way, the rest of them followed silently. Syler would have liked a chance to better catch up with his friends, but after seeing the somber look on Vekla's face, he didn't dare ask for more time. Whatever this ceremony entailed, they took it extremely seriously. Now that he was surrounded by four dozen warriors, he wasn't going anywhere they didn't want him to go. They were marched across the city. People stood along both sides of the street in silence to watch them go by, something that Syler found quite disturbing. He didn't think it had anything to do with the soldiers as those were commonplace. That meant that they had all stopped what they were doing right before dinner time just to see him and his friends go to whatever ritual the Krue had planned. After twenty minutes, they finally arrived at their destination. Syler wasn't sure what it was at first because he had never seen such a thing, but he had heard of it. They were at the edge of a large arena made of wood with stands reaching thirty or more feet high. Row after row of planks had been laid out so people could sit and watch what was happening within the large flattened area. From what he could see of the fields themselves, they were dirt covered with a healthy layer of wood shavings spread out to prevent it from getting too muddy. Set at each end of the oval field was a small wooden stand surrounded by multiple torches. He was struck by the standards that were placed behind the stands and fluttering in the slight wind. One was made of intermingled blue and red squares on a silver background. The other, the one that was closer to their side of the field, was a fairly crude but clear representation of the crest of the Kingdom of the Sei, a black raven flying over fields of grain with a spear in its claws. Someone was standing on the stand on the far side of the field under the red and blue standard, though he couldn't make out who it was. There were thousands of people in the stands sitting in almost absolute silence. It was eerie to see so many people in one place without any of the common noises that accompanied such crowds at other times. Syler was getting more and more uncomfortable with each step because he was not sure what they were hoping to see and he knew he was going to be the central part of it. Syler surreptitiously poked Bronwyn trying to get her attention and hoping she had a clue what was going on. She understood his unspoken question and shook her head slowly. None of the Krue were of any help, so Syler was forced to continue onward without an explanation of what was expected of him. They entered a small tunnel that went under the stands and was guarded by yet more warriors. "Nubwet ka Majiyae Oretezu butheur sarbwekheith." There was a sudden rustle of leather and clanking of metal as the guards moved to physically block Syler's friends with either their bodies or weapons. Gloved hands grabbed weapons from Lamastus and Havert before they could even begin to protest. A massive warrior took each of Syler's arms and began guiding him forward into the tunnel. "What is going on?" demanded Syler, though Vekla and the others ignored him. Bronwyn somehow managed to push her way past the guards and, with fear and determination in her voice, cried out, "Kae vsu granegas aliora! Thos ka shenethasi sek Asporeatinti, ja fos bwet reisene mel khadordos thequel graneth!" This gave Vekla pause, but she didn't stop completely until one of the other warriors stretched out his arm in front of her and the others. She glared at him and said something cutting that Syler didn't make out. That in turn started a brief argument between the two of them and a few other warriors who were close enough to hear. The disagreement was enough to halt the entire procession. "What did you tell her?" asked Syler. Bronwyn grabbed him and held on for dear life. She spoke near his ear so she couldn't be overheard. "I told them that I was your wife and that by the laws of the Spirits, I had the right to stand by you. This is a judgment, Syler, a trial, and I don't know what for." Syler pushed back a little and looked into her green eyes. "A trial? Are you sure?" She nodded, "Yes, it is much larger and more grand than what we did, but this is how my people conduct public trials. The banner on the far side is that of this clan, the Thwrudil, and the other is of your people." "Ritual be damned," said Lamastus angrily, "they are going to kill you." "But why?" asked Alltis. With a hard look on his face, Syler replied through gritted teeth, "I don't know." Delmonor emerged from the circle of warriors guarding them and said, "You made claim to be Majiyae Oretezu, now you prove claim." "I never said anything of the sort," cried Syler indignantly. "You are the ones who said that, not I." The warrior shrugged and replied, "It is how it is done. You showed powers, you must finish prophecy. You cannot change what must be. Neith fos, fos." Remembering Vekla's threat back at the corral, Syler gulped and held up his hand to stop his friend's outcries. "Hey!" he cried out loud enough to cut through the argument in front of him. "Enough of that. If you want me to go out there, then so be it. Let me go out and face this 'trial' of yours." "Syler," pleaded Bronwyn as she clutched his arm. "No, I got us into this by agreeing to go with Growald, this is my mess. I will face it and do so alone. Whatever happens in there, I don't want you tangled up in it." He smiled and wiped a tear off of his wife's face. "I went through a lot to give you your life back, I don't want you to throw it away for my sake. If I am to perish here, then I hope they will allow the rest of you to leave in peace." "Don't do this, I want to go with you," she urged. He smiled sadly and brought up her hand to his mouth so he could give it a kiss. "I am sorry." He looked at Vekla and said, "I will go, but she stays." The sorceress nodded and gave a few orders to the warriors. They closed ranks and grabbed hold of Bronwyn to make sure she didn't follow. She cried out his name and struggled, but Syler only gritted his teeth and followed Vekla into the tunnel. When he emerged at the other side, he was within the arena. Delmonor, with a look of sympathy and regret on his red speckled face, confirmed Syler's fears of what type of trial was before him a Kruish brigandine made of black leather. "Put this on. It will help you." The armor only covered his torso, but it was better than nothing. Syler was familiar enough with armor that he didn't need much help with anything except the back straps. The armor was lighter than he expected it to be, though he was more used to the heavier mail hauberks when he was drilling for the militia in Sandrin. The Kruish armor offered an excellent range of motion and was far more comfortable than any other armor he had worn. Once he had managed to put the armor on, Vekla gestured with a jerk of her chin for him to go out to the platform waiting for him. He tried to conceal his nervousness as the crowds grew even more silent than before. Ignoring the thousands of sets of eyes that were following his every move was difficult, but the armor concealed the sweat that was forming beneath his shirt. When he got up to the platform, he was able to see who it was that was standing opposite of him. Lord Saekoris stood straight and tall, not taking his eyes off of Syler. He too was dressed in leather armor, though he had a helmet. When Syler got within ten paces, he motioned for him to stop and addressed the crowd in Kruish. After he gave a small speech, he looked at Syler and asked, "Have you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, come to lay claim to the title of Majiyae Oretezu?" Though he really hadn't, Syler knew that if he tried to back out now, he wouldn't make it back to the tunnel entrance alive. If these Krue thought he was some sort of special savior, then that was their choice. He had to admit, he had seen and done a few spectacular things in the last month, but he wasn't going to say he was some sort of hero. There wasn't much of a choice in this matter, so he had to play along. "Yes, I do." Saekoris' voice rose as he addressed the crowds, "Gran zathin ja!" In response, the entire crowd stomped a single foot on the wooden planks they were standing on. For a few moments, the entire arena echoed with a resounding boom. There were no cheers or any other sounds from the audience, so the arena quickly returned to silence. Saekoris said something in Kruish, then asked, "Do you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, come to lay claim to the rights and privileges of Majiyae Oretezu?" Not knowing what else he could do, Syler nodded and replied, "Yes, I do." "Gran zathin ja!" Again, the crowed stomped against the wood planks, though this time it they did it twice. After another line of Kruish, Lord Saekoris fixed Syler with a solemn stare and asked, "Will you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, defend your claim to Majiyae Oretezu?" With a sour taste in his mouth, Syler answered once more. "Yes, I will." "Gran othraga bakhoskakin ja!" Predictably, the crowd stomped three times at this pronouncement. Saekoris said a few more things in Kruish, but it appeared that the questioning part of this trial was over because he took his attention off of Syler and was addressing the crowd of his people. While he stood there, Syler's stomach began to roil in nervousness at whatever he was about to face. Clearly, the Krue were expecting him to defend his "claim" through combat. He had fought before, but he was no warrior and didn't think he stood a chance against the legendary Kruish warriors. Even without their hasuan, they looked fierce enough. "And so we come to it at last," Saekoris said in the Common Tongue. There was regret plain on his voice, but his face was etched with determination and resolve. "Come to what?" asked Syler, fearing the answer. "If you are truly the Majiyae Oretezu, you must defeat me in combat." "You?" Syler said as his eyes grew wide. He had expected some sort of fight, but not with the clan's lord himself. Saekoris nodded once and drew his sword. "Yes, to confirm who you truly are, you must kill me in fair combat." "Wait, kill you? You are the lord of this clan, why would you endanger yourself in combat?" "It is my purpose as the Ulaen Fequilbat to test any who claim to be ka Majiyae Oretezu. Make no mistake, I will do my best to kill you because, should I not try my best and am slain by one who is not the Majiyae Oretezu, then I would have doomed my people to destruction." Syler didn't detect any regret in the old man's voice. "So you want me to kill you just so I can prove that I am some sort of savior for your people? That makes no sense!" "It makes perfect sense, Syler Penion of Sandrin. The strong must lead and to do that, they must replace the old and weak. If you are able to kill me, then you have proven that you are stronger than I. You would have shown that you are indeed the Majiyae Oretezu. It has been written and it must be this way. I have no more choice in the matter than you do." Syler shook his head, "No, I am not going to kill you simply because of some old books." "You must defend your claim and engage in combat with me. Only one may walk away from such combat. As the Ulaen Fequilbat, I hold the judgment over who is worthy to be the Majiyae Oretezu and who is merely a pretender. Do not think you are the first to come to the attention of the Krue who has claimed and even shown signs of being ka Majiyae Oretezu. As I am doing now, the Ulaen Fequilbati who came before me fought the claimants. Each time they killed the challenger, just as I will do to you should you not be ka jhatt—the true—Majiyae Oretezu." "And if I refuse to kill you or play part of this sick game?" asked Syler cautiously. "Then I must force your hand," he replied sadly. He lifted one arm to direct Syler's attention behind him. When Syler turned, he saw that Bronwyn had been forced to her knees with her hands behind her back. Vekla had a knife at her throat and stood watching the two men in the arena. Other Krue warriors had the rest of his friends in the same position. There were tears streaming down Bronwyn's terrified face. Havert and Lamastus looked furious while Alltis looked unnaturally calm at the prospect of having a knife at her throat. Puzzled at her reaction, Syler looked at her for a few moments until he noticed that her lip was trembling in fear. "I am sorry, Syler Penion of Sandrin, but if you do not defend your claim to the best of your abilities, they will die." "And if I fail and am killed?" asked Syler. "What will happen to them?" "I bear you no ill will, Syler Penion of Sandrin. I do not believe you have come here with deceit in your heart. Fate has placed us both in this situation. Should you give this your entire effort and fail, I will spare your woman and those who came with you. They will be returned to our borders and let loose." Syler gave Kruish lord a look of abject loathing. He knew without a doubt that he was serious and that if he didn't give this his all, they would all die. He really didn't want to kill this man, but if they were going to threaten his wife and friends, then he had no choice but to comply. Right now, there was a hatred rising in his veins for this man who would force him to kill simply for prophecy when he had no quarrel with any of them. Test or not, Syler thought this whole thing was a great waste. "Very well," he said through clenched teeth as he drew his own sword. "Ja nagatso!" Saekoris shouted for all to hear as he leapt off of his platform and ran straight for Syler with his sword in hand. Syler jumped off of his own platform and took a few steps forward, but didn't rush out to meet his opponent so quickly. Standing at the ready with his sword in hand, he braced himself for the onslaught. He didn't have to wait for long. Saekoris swung his sword at Syler's head in a simple but powerful attack that Syler was barely able to block without being pushed back. For being an older man, the Kruish lord was surprisingly strong and quick. The next attack was aimed at his midsection and Syler only just got his sword up in time to avoid having his innards spilt all over the arena floor. Without emotion on his hard face, Saekoris lashed out in a series of quick blows that forced Syler to retreat until his back was against the rail of the platform he had been standing on just moments before. Clearly, despite his age, Lord Saekoris was a far better swordsman than Syler was, so he needed to do something quick to change the situation or he was a dead man. When the sword came at him next, Syler took a gamble and caught the blade on his guard. With all of his strength, he shoved Saekoris' weapon out to the right while he twisted forward and smashed Saekoris' face with his left elbow. He didn't pause there, but tried to tangle his opponent's legs with his left leg and bring him down. The older man was quick and experienced enough to take a step back and avoid the attempt while lashing out at Syler's midsection with his free hand and landing a blow that was painful even through the armor. While Syler recovered, Saekoris freed up his sword and slashed at him. Syler caught the blade with his own and drove it down into the wood shavings and dirt with as much force as he could muster. A blindingly hot line of pain etched itself across his unprotected shin and calf as he did from where Saekoris' blade sliced skin and muscle. Ignoring the burning agony, Syler stomped on the flat of his opponent's blade and snapped it out of Saekoris' hands. Without missing a beat, Saekoris whirled and kicked Syler's sword free and sent it flying off to the side. He tried to drive Syler back to reclaim his own weapon, but in this case, Syler's larger size gave him an advantage and he was repulsed. Syler tried to get the blade that had fallen in front of him, but Saekoris had another tactic in mind. There was no warning for what came next. Saekoris took a step back and then hurled a deep purple lightning bolt a Syler's chest. Syler flinched but didn't have time to get away from it, though he needn't bother. The bolt landed squarely in his chest but just vanished as though it was nothing but an illusion. He started to take a few steps back himself to get a little distance between himself and his attacker. The surprise of finding out that Lord Saekoris was a wielder of magic momentarily confused Syler and left him wondering how to deal with this situation. While Syler might have been confused, Saekoris was not. He followed his first strike with fire that streamed from his hands and covered Syler. As it was when Vekla tried to burn Lamastus, the flames had no effect upon him, not even to the point of giving him warmth. It did, however, keep him from seeing the next attack and it did a fair job in melting the sword that had been laying a few feet in front of him. Dirt and leaves hurled past him as Saekoris summoned powerful winds. Syler could feel the leaves brushing against him, but he couldn't feel any of the wind driving them. It was the strangest sensation to have things blown in his face but not be able to feel the wind itself. Syler used his arms to block the incoming debris as he struggled to figure out what to do next. Saekoris next tried some sort of spell that glowed green, but failed to find a purchase on his target. When that spell was over, he switched to a bright ball of pure energy that coalesced in his palms for a few seconds before being hurled at him. Syler saw that one coming and dodged the attack. The orb flew past him and dissipated against an invisible shield surrounding the arena that Syler had not known was there. The fight was going nowhere fast as Saekoris continued to pummel Syler with spells that caused him no harm. The ground was scorched around him, but not a hair on his head had been burned by any of the great amounts of energy being hurled at him. After a few minutes of this, Syler was genuinely confused as how to progress. Saekoris clearly couldn't hurt him with his spells, but he had no idea how to use spells of his own to counter. The Kruish lord had pulled out a long knife and kept it at the ready. Syler knew that he stood no chance against Saekoris when it came to matching blades. Worse, his left leg was wounded and would put him at a great disadvantage in any close combat. Saekoris had to know that, yet he stayed back and continued to launch attacks with magic. Saekoris realized what was going through Syler's mind because, between bouts of lightning, he said, "Focus on my spells. Feel their magic as it is turned upon you. If you truly are the Majiyae Oretezu, you will be able to turn them against me." Syler groaned at the flash of revelation that struck him. Saekoris knew that his attacks were futile, but he was willing to launch them regardless. Clearly, the old man believed so much in this prophecy bit that he was willing to give Syler a chance to prove that he was the Majiyae Oretezu by launching futile attacks even if it meant his own death. Just like when Growald goaded him into a fight back at Alltis' parents' house, Lord Saekoris was trying to teach him something. Syler had to endure two more fireballs and a burst of some sort of odd energy that surrounded him wherever he moved before he could figure out what his opponent had said. He couldn't use spells himself because he didn't know how, but he did know how to take them within himself without harm and mold them to his will. That was how he had saved Bronwyn. He had taken the curse that was leaving her in pain and unable to heal, then turned it inside out to heal the very wounds that it had caused and sustained. Having that knowledge was good, but Syler had no idea how to implement it. Syler was forced to close his eyes as a particularly bright flash of energy enveloped him, and that was when he saw it. It was a brief flash at first, probably more of a memory than anything he actually saw, but it was enough. Once he was not relying on his sense of vision to guide him, he was able to use his mind to see. His mind, for the briefest of moments, saw the spell as something more than just energy. It was a chain of odd looking energy and perhaps glyphs leading from him back to its caster. Syler kept his eyes closed and focused on the part of him that had helped cure Bronwyn. When Saekoris' next spell hit, he saw the string of magic once again connecting between the two of them. Two more spells later, and he had a new idea. The next spell that Saekoris used was a fireball. Syler let it hit him and instead of simply observing the spell's trail, he took hold of it mentally. It took just a split second, but in that briefest of times, he took control of the spell itself from Saekoris and directed it. Syler didn't know what to do with the spell now that he controlled it, so the flames merely shot up into the sky where it impacted the shield that was around them. He opened his eyes in surprise and saw that his opponent had paused his attacks. There was a small smile in the corner of the man's mouth and a look of satisfaction on his face. Lord Saekoris knew what he was doing, and yet, he was going to continue onward even to his own death. Saekoris pulled his hands back and prepared another spell to send at his opponent. When it came, Syler was ready for it. As the lightning bolt arched between the two of them and impacted his shoulder, he took control of it. Saekoris cut off the spell from his end, but it was too late. Sparks flickered around Syler's hands as he formed his own spell. Just as he had seen numerous mages do, he pushed his hands forward as though he was going to hit a man with the heel of his palm and released the spell he had captured. A bolt of lightning shot from his palm and hit Lord Saekoris in the chest. He didn't even have a chance to cry out in pain before his armor flash burned away and his chest all but exploded from the energy and heat. His body wasn't quite cut in two, but it was still a gruesome sight as it hit the ground. There was silence in the arena and nobody reacted. Syler turned to look at the Krue who were holding Bronwyn and the others captive with anger clear on his face. He hadn't wanted to kill Lord Saekoris, but he had no choice. His anger was directed at both the old man and all of these Krue who had it in their heads that one of the two of them had to die for their crazy prophecy. Vekla released his wife and sheathed her knife and the others quickly followed suit. Bronwyn started to rush toward Syler, but the warriors stopped her. With her head held high, Velka marched into the arena and stopped just in front of Syler. She looked briefly at the body of Lord Saekoris as it lay still smoldering, then at Syler. Her face was a barely controlled visage of emotion that could be disbelief, rage, incredulity, or a mixture of all three. To his surprise, she went down on a single knee and bowed her head. She clasped her right fist over her heart and said, "I, Vekla Saekoris, pledge myself to you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, Majiyae Oretezu, Lord of Clan Thwrud. I will follow your commands and will serve and protect you until my death or your honorable succession." When she finished, she stood up and shouted to the crowd, "Bwosar palquezen Ley Syler Penion se Sandrin, Inthaley se Inthal Thwrud!" Syler didn't know what to say, he was in shock. Around him, thousands of Krue fell to their knees slammed their fists over their heart. Something about this wasn't right, not right at all. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he had a sinking feeling that he had just stepped into something that he didn't want any part of. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly. Vekla back to him and blinked in confusion. "I am pledging my loyalty to you as our rightful lord." "Why? I am not your lord or anything. I am not even Krue." She looked stricken and glanced around her at the kneeling Krue. "You defeated Lord Saekoris in honorable combat and have taken his place as lord of Clan Thwrud. I and everyone in this clan are yours to command." It was what he had feared. Syler threw up his hands and said, "No, I don't want any of this, I just want to live in peace." "You are our lord, you are to lead us in the upcoming war." Syler shook his head, "No, I am going to find my sister and then she and my friends will go away to live in peace away from the Angvardi and the Shalktra and anyone else who wants to fight and kill each other. I am done with the Easterners and fighting and killing." Vekla didn't seem to know what to say, so she bowed her head and stared at the ground. "As you wish," she muttered. "No, it is not 'as I wish.' I didn't want this nor did I want to kill a man who clearly had no true intention of surviving against me. It was suicide, plain and simple because he refused to fight me blade to blade and couldn't touch me with his magic." The others, now that their captors were bowing in submission, were free to rush out onto the field. Syler accepted Bronwyn's embrace, though he couldn't force himself to return it due to his anger. He quickly disentangled himself and walked over to where Lord Saekoris' body lay. Smoke was still curling up from his incinerated flesh making Syler sick to his stomach with its smell. He looked up at the gathered Krue and started yelling for all of them to hear. "Is this what you wanted!" He pointed at the body at his feet. He didn't care if they could understand him or not, he was angry and wanted to make it known. Some of them would know the Common Tongue at least. "Was it really necessary for this man to die? I had no quarrel with him nor he with me. This was pointless, a complete waste of life. You want to live by prophecy and see innocent men die, then fine, but leave me out of it. I am done, finished. I won't have any more a part of this." "That…wasss…not…part…of our deal, Sssyler," a haunting voice said into his ear. Syler jumped, but when he turned, there was nobody there. He looked back to where Vekla had been, but she was gone. For a few seconds, the world rippled as though it were nothing but a mirage. When it settled, the arena had vanished, as had his friends. Syler saw the Element Crusos standing in front of him giving him a cunning smile full of malice. At his feet, a battered and bruised Bronwyn lay naked and covered in blood. "We made a deal, Sssyler Penion, and I expect you to carry it out," the Element hissed. "What part of that deal involved killing honorable men like Lord Saekoris?" Syler shot back. "The part where you sssaid you would accept your destiny in return for your wife and sssister." Crusos looked dispassionately down at the body at his pale, disgusting feet. "I spared her sssoul in return for your ssservice to the Elementsss. It cost me a great deal to do thisss and I intend to get my value'sss worth from you." "You leave her out of this, it is between you and I." "That isss not what was recorded in the Sssacred Ssscrolls, Sssyler. When I bought Bronwyn'sss sssoul from the Ssspirits, it wasss placed under my custody. I am bound by our contract asss witnessed by Erastmus and Sssuella. Ssshould you fail to honor your part in that agreement, the part to follow your destiny, then her sssoul is mine. If you reject your destiny, then I will sssend her sssould to Vakleem and eternal torment and sssuffering." There was not a hint of remorse in Crusos' voice. Instead, he seemed to be extremely satisfied with himself. As he said that, he reached down and into Bronwyn's chest. He made a fist and began to pull. Bronwyn's body didn't react, but a spectral version of her that was being pulled out by the Element cried out in pain and pure anguish. "Stop!" Syler yelled. "You will serve the Elements then?" asked Crusos. "What do you want me to do?" "Power will be given to you among mortalsss, accept it and use it. Battlesss and warsss will be fought, wage them and win them. Do not resist prophecy and when the time comesss, heed my call. Do that and Bronwyn will remain free." Syler looked down at the battered nightmarish version of Bronwyn and back up to the grinning Element. Though he knew he would curse himself for it, he said, "Very well. I will do as you ask." Victory flashed in Crusos' eyes and he released Bronwyn's soul. "Pleasure dealing with you, Sssyler Penion," he hissed. With a snap of his bony fingers, the horror vanished and Syler was back in the Kruish arena. "My lord?" Vekla said quizzically. As he collected himself, Bronwyn and his other friends reached him and were looking at him as though he would fall over at any moment. "Are you okay?" Bronwyn asked quietly. "Could one of those spells be affecting you?" "Um, no, I am okay," he said, though he didn't convince even himself. "My leg is hurting, but that is about all." "Here, let me take a look at it," said Alltis quietly as she knelt next to him. The bleeding had slowed slightly, but he was still losing blood. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade, it was beginning to hurt and his knee was tensing up. "Lapra yagreshi o fowe vostreas eka nuath ley!" Vekla snapped at some of the other warriors who were still kneeling in supplication. Two of them ran off back through the tunnel. Syler hobbled over to the nearest platform and sat down on one of its steps. When he sat down, he looked around and was suddenly very conscious of the crowd of silent observers on their knees just waiting there. "Are they necessary? Is there something more for them to do?" he asked. Vekla shook her head, "No, bwe ley. They were here to observe the duel and pledge loyalty to the victor." Syler frowned and said curtly, "Then send them away. Tell them to go home." The last thing he wanted right now was to be the center of attention for thousands of other people. Vekla started shouting out orders, but Syler didn't pay attention. His leg was beginning to hurt and needed attention. Alltis, joined quickly by Bronwyn, managed to cut away his pants leg with a small knife so they could get a better look. Lord Saekoris' sword had done a good number on him as it sliced through his flesh. Syler winced as one of the women's hands probed the gash. Two warriors, both of whom were carrying healing supplies, and a younger man wearing a leather apron approached from the tunnel and headed straight for him. The young man quickly bowed his head and said, "Kae vso vostraes satsuf Jaquiil, bwet ley." "What?" asked Syler. "His name is Jaquiil," Bronwyn replied. "He is an apprentice healer." "Right," he mumbled in response. Jaquiil hesitated until Alltis waved him over. As soon as he realized that Syler wasn't going to hurt him, he quickly went to work evaluating the injury and applying some basic herbs from a chest held by one of the warriors. Syler hissed in pain when he applied something that burned to the wound. Since his father was an alchemist who worked with basic herbal healing, he knew that sometimes things that were helpful to someone also hurt them, so he didn't complain. While the healer was working, Syler noticed that Vekla had wandered off to stand over Lord Saekoris' body. She remained standing there looking down at him. Since her back was turned, he couldn't see her expression, but she didn't seem to be too happy. He figured that, after probably serving her entire life under him, she would wish to pay her respects, so he left her to it. She wasn't alone in tending to his body. There were four warriors and what may have been some sort of Kruish priest who were tending to the body. They were gathering up various pieces of leather and metal that had blown off of the man when the lightning hit him and placing them atop a white sheet. One of the warriors had a large shroud that they clearly intended on placing him in to carry him off for burial or burning or whatever the Krue did to their dead. Despite his anger, Syler approved of their tending to their fallen lord. Lord Saekoris had been an honorable man who had done well by him, so he bore the man no ill will despite what happened here. Jaquiil finished his basic treatment of the wound and was wrapping it tightly in white bandages. He was busy giving instructions to Bronwyn and Alltis in Kruish and, since he couldn't understand them anyway, Syler tuned him out. He had a good enough idea what to do and planned on getting a more full treatment later. If he could find access to the healer's supplies, he could make himself a couple of poultices, salves, and tinctures that would help slow the bleeding, speed the healing, and stave off infection. "Okay," he said grumpily, "it is time to go. I have seen enough of this place." "What about your leg? Jaquiil was insistent that you stay off of it as much as possible to allow it to heal." "I know what to do, my father was practically our village healer." He used the rail of the platform to pull himself up and gasped in pain when he stepped on his leg. It hurt, but the pain was bearable. He briefly considered asking for a gurney, but quickly rejected that notion. The Krue didn't respect weakness at all. He would walk or, more likely, limp without relying on others. Seeing him get up, Vekla returned to his side and asked quietly, "What do you command?" "I want to be taken somewhere where I can think all of this over. My friends need to rest as well. They are to be tended to and given every courtesy, even Growald and his men." Vekla nodded and said, "They shall be taken to your estate at once." "My estate?" asked Syler suspiciously. He was suddenly back on the alert. "You are the Lord of Thwrud, Lord Saekoris' estate and all he possessed is now yours," Vekla replied. "He has no woman left, so you do not owe her galthus so it is all yours." Syler could only shake his head in disgust and disbelief. He looked around at the gathered warriors still keeping a watchful eye on him or tending to Lord Saekoris' body. They had just traded a wise and honorable leader for a foreigner who knew nothing of their ways. It was ridiculous and at this moment, he had no love for Kruish tradition. "Then take us there," he said reluctantly. At least it would be comfortable and give him the chance to tend to his leg properly. After a moment's hesitation, Vekla turned and began leading them out of the arena. As they were walking toward the tunnel, Bronwyn fell in beside him. In a low voice, she asked, "Syler, did you hear what she said when she pledged her loyalty to you?" "Yea, I did." "And you aren't letting her tend to her father?" she asked incredulously. Syler missed a step. "What are you talking about?" "Her name, Syler. She said it was Vekla Saekoris. Lord Saekoris was her father." Syler paled in shock, then began turning slightly pink from embarrassment. Now that she had mentioned it, he did remember that something was familiar about the sorceress' name. He had been too angry and overwhelmed to notice what Bronwyn had. "Um, Vekla," he said in a voice loud enough for her to hear, "I think Delmonor and the others can take us back to the estate. Lord Saekoris was an honorable man who did what he thought was best for his people even at the expense of his own life. See to it that he is treated with all the proper honors a man of his station deserves. Take as long as you need." She looked as though she were going to argue, so he added, "Consider that a command from your lord." She bowed and retreated away to return to her fallen father's body. Syler spent the rest of their journey back to Lord Saekoris' estate trying not to be sick. The revelation that Vekla's father had been the very man he just killed was the final bit of shock needed to push him over the edge. He had been furious at the Krue for making him kill that man for no good reason, but now he was livid because Vekla had been forced to publicly pledge her loyalty to her father's killer. This was a day that he would never hope to relive again, though he knew he would have nightmares for the rest of his life. He hoped that he would get a few days to rest and soak it all in before some other major disaster happened. Knowing his luck, that wasn't likely.

Moving onward to the next chapter and the aftermath of all the fun in bed. This time, we get a rather detailed description of Bronwyn's perspective of things. I think it will help clarify her seemingly out of character change at the end of last chapter. At least, I hope it will. Anyway, the first section with Syler and Bronwyn in bed is radically altered. The second section with them meeting up with the rest of their friends has a few additions and edits, but is more or less intact. I had a bit added with Lamastus apologizing to Syler for supporting killing Bronwyn back at Fazei, too. Due to size constraints from the expanded first section and my desire to greatly expand the next part with Avenil squaring off against Syler, I split this chapter in two (again). I am not sure if I mentioned it, but I also decided to push back ALL of the civil war at the end of the novel to the second book where the Battle of Thattos will serve as the end of Part I. I also split this novel into three formal parts titled (in order): The Exiled One, The Kruish Lord, and The Gathering Storm. Each would be considered an Act if this were a play, and each cover the three main parts of this novel quite nicely. Anyway, no more boring explanation, onto the chapter. Warning: There be boobies ahead! Nothing too graphic, but I figured a minor warning would be nice. ___________________ Chapter 26 Tread carefully around the hospitality of the Krue. Though they stand firmly behind their pledges, the slightest offense can be sufficient for them to declare the sanctuary agreement breached. — Six Months in Subeleth, by Hragrath the Scholar Lord Saekoris' Estate Thwrud Subeleth October 4 As Bronwyn lay comfortably with her head on her husband's bare chest, she couldn't help but think how much the Spirits had blessed her. Just hours ago, she was standing at the gateway to Nornesu, the Land of the Ancestors. She was so close to death that she could almost hear the voices of her mother and father calling out to her. Despite that, Syler had refused to let her die. He had traveled to the spiritual realm and bargained with his gods for her very soul. Somehow, in the depths of her heart, she had allowed the callousness and pessimism of a life spent apart and with little hope to consume her. For too long, she had expected only the worst and it had come to her with open arms. Loneliness had plagued her even before her parents died and the Haresu invaded. She had been frightened to leave her clan and be forced to march to Kubei with thousands of strangers. Her terror had only been compounded by the assignment of a husband for her by the invaders. Surely, one of the Sei brutes would simply ravage her and use her as nothing but a slave. She had been horribly wrong about Syler, so why did she keep believing the worst? He was kind, understanding, gentle when he needed to be, and strong when he couldn't. She had been slowly falling for him when he stood up against Growald for her sake. At that moment, seeing him being pounded bloody and eventually emerging the victor, she knew that she loved him. Despite not exactly returning her feelings, the two of them grew closer and things were looking so good for them both. Then the Shalktra came for her and all of her hopes had been crushed. For a time, she knew nothing but darkness, pain, suffering, and torment. Even when she had brief moments of refuge within Syler's dreams, there was always the nagging bit of doubt that he would never be able to accept her after what happened and for her weakness. Yet again, she had been wrong about Syler, and she was somewhat ashamed for it. He didn't care what happened in that cell and loved her regardless. He cast aside her arguments and concerns one by one with the same drive that caused him to abandon reason and come after her, protect her, and challenge even his Elements. In the end, he loved her in spite of herself and refused to let her buckle. When she could bear it no more, she broke down in his arms and wept for it all. Her foolishness at never daring to hope and for believing the self deception that had ensnared her was humiliating. For so long, she had been blinded to hope and buried under the weight of her birthright as a caetos kvastal. Slowly, bit by bit, Syler had managed to coax her out of her shell of over protectiveness and emotional numbness. The Shalktra had nearly beaten and raped her back into it, but before her spirit could be bound forever, Syler had reached in and pulled her out. He held her close and let the shame, fear, and doubts flow from her as tears. Never before had she felt so ashamed, so foolish, and so vulnerable, yet he didn't judge her. He only held on and remained a strong bulwark for her to rest against. Eventually, they both fell asleep and, in his loving embrace, she had once again seen his dreams, though now she was conscious to make sense of them. She didn't exactly tell him the complete truth about how she had seen his dreams. She had said that she wasn't sure how, but that was only partially correct. Among the old legends of her kind, it was told that a caetos kvastal was not just capable of receiving kvastati, but of sensing the dreams of others. It was said that when they were at the height of their power, they could sift through the anyone's dreams and discover anything they wanted to know about that person while they were asleep. Nobody could ever recall anyone being able to control such powers, but there were stories of women being able to do it sporadically and with mixed results. He was just as afraid of losing her as she had been of losing him. His sleeping mind was just as exhausted as hers and was wracked with fears of her leaving him or rejecting his love. The last month had taken its toll on him emotionally and physically and she was his last hope. With her healed, he had not expected any resistance, but her attitude and actions had hurt him more than she would have thought. He was hanging by a thread but couldn't show it for her sake. Perhaps he himself didn't know how desperate he had become. The subconscious mind was prone to many wild fancies, but it also rarely lied. If anything, it tended to magnify fears and hopes in a way that the conscious mind would never be able to. When she woke up, she was a different person. The years of self doubt had been lifted and she was no longer chained down. She was free and, even more, she knew that she was no longer alone. Syler had not been just speaking empty words when he told her he loved her, and now she could believe it. Her solitary suffering was now gone and she felt as light as a feather. Even more, she was free of the constraints that had made her too cautious, too expecting of rejection, and too unwilling to take a chance. Though it had not yet been dawn, she couldn't wait any longer for him to wake up and decided to wake him herself. She wanted Syler and she now knew that Syler wanted her—she had seen enough of his dreams to know that much. He was too honorable and constrained to ever make any advances while he thought there was even the slightest chance that she wasn't fully willing. After her actions today, he had more than enough cause to doubt that she truly loved him. If he was not going to make a move on her then she would make a move on him. The shocked and embarrassed look on his face when she jumped on top of him and began teasing him had been worth all of the suffering she had endured. He had been cautious at first, but as soon as she got him up on the bed and showed him that she was more than willing to have him, he quickly came around. The stress, pressure, and hardships of the last four months exploded into a passionate fire and they both let it consume them. She now was resting comfortably and in peace after so long of yearning for it. She had not known that such joy and pleasure could be found until she was in his arms making love to him. More than just the sheer passion, she was content for the first time since her father had been killed and her mother threw herself upon his pyre in grief. On that dark day, she didn't think she would ever find happiness and peace, but she had been wrong. "So, now what should we do?" Syler asked after he had recovered from their most recent bout. He was lying flat on his back while she was laying crosswise facing him with her head resting on his muscular chest. Dawn had come and gone unheeded during their passion and the sun was now hanging in the middle of the sky. She merely lifted her head so she could see his face and smiled, "I don't care as long as we stay together." "Bronwyn," he said with complete seriousness, "I wouldn't let the Elements themselves take you from me." She knew that was as true a statement as had ever been uttered by man. She smiled and traced his jaw line through his beard. "I wouldn't mind staying here for a few more days, or maybe longer." "I would like that," Syler said. His hand gently cupped her breast eliciting a sigh of contentment from her. As much as she wanted to do what she suggested, she knew that they couldn't remain here forever. "We really shouldn't stay too much longer." Syler fixed a playful frown on his face and said, "Why is that? Have I tired you out already?" Though she was tired from all of their exertion, she would find the energy to keep going if it meant spending more time with him. Still, such a jab couldn't go unanswered, so she slapped his chest and was satisfied to hear a grunt from deep in his throat. "No, you," she said with a roll of her eyes. "It is that we are guests of the Krue and they can sometimes be very demanding hosts. I am surprised they haven't summoned us yet." "Well, perhaps they heard what was going on in here and decided that it would be best not to interfere." Bronwyn couldn't help but giggle at that. Even the thought of what would have happened had someone entered was enough to make her blush. She may have fully embraced the new physical side to their relationship, but she wasn't eager to expose that side of them to others. "Thank the Spirits they didn't," she said. "That would have been quite interesting," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "It might have been enough for them to throw us out of here. The Krue tend to be quite reserved with these things." Syler shrugged. "I doubt that they would throw us out over that. They seem to like me quite a bit for them to roll out the welcome rug for us." If only he fully understood just how rare that was. "I don't know, Syler. There is something going on with them, you should be careful." His brow furrowed in concern and his voice lowered a bit, "What do you mean? Do you think they mean us harm?" "No, I don't think so," she assured him. "It is something about this whole Majiyae Oretezu thing. It means a lot to them. Krue lords do not give their hospitality lightly. They usually require a great service to be done for their people before granting it, especially for foreigners." His eyes narrowed. "You seem to know a lot about the Krue." "I know a little," she admitted. "My clan traded with them in the past, so I know a little of their ways." "That is more than I know. Most of the dealings my village had with foreigners involved fighting off the Sua. We had some peace with the Koshi to the south, but sometimes there was tension and fighting with them too." He reached around her shoulders and held her tightly against him for a moment, then said, "But enough of this talk. I hope to go after Karusa as soon as Havert and Alltis arrive." "What if the Krue won't let you? They seem to think you are someone important and I don't think they will simply let you leave." Syler clenched his jaw in a look that told her that he wasn't going to budge from his position. "Let them try to stop me. They will have to kill me and I don't think they want to do that because it would ruin their precious prophecies." "Just be careful, please. Prophecy is not something to be taken lightly. Neither are the Krue." He relaxed his jaw and smiled at her, "Of course I will, but I will also go find my sister. If they want to watch over me while I do that, I would welcome some of their warriors, but I am going even if I have to search every town and village in Sua." There was nothing Bronwyn could do to dissuade him even if she had wanted to. She only hoped that the Krue wouldn't try to stop him. She would go wherever he led, that much she knew. Deep down, she worried that their days of peace and stability were gone. Whether they ever came back was something she couldn't guess. As though he could read the discomfort on her mind, Syler smiled and tousled her hair causing it to get all in her face. "Stop that!" she cried out, though she couldn't quite be angry with him. "Make me," he said teasingly and she was more than willing to do so. They fought briefly as she struggled to gain control of his hands. Finally, she was on top of him and had both of his hands pinned above his head. She couldn't help but return the smile that he was giving her and, elated by his continued playful mood, leaned down to kiss him. She released his captive hands so she could run her fingers through his beard. His arms came down and he pulled her down fully on top of him and held her tightly. He stroked her back, but quickly started working his way down lower. Then, an intruder dared to encroach upon their blissful sphere of happiness. There was a knock at the door that cut any further action short. With a moan of frustration, Syler broke their kiss and said, "What?" There was a pause, then a female voice said, "Your companions have arrived." If anything had to interrupt their activities, that was perhaps the most tolerable reason. As much as they wanted to be with each other, they both wanted to see their friends and let them know that everything was alright. With only a few sighs of disappointment, the two of them disentangled themselves from each other and scrambled for their clothes. Once they were dressed, they left the room and were summarily escorted out of the estate by two servants. Outside, they were met by a rather large Kruish warrior with striking red war paint splattered over his face with only the outline of a hand left bare as though someone placed their hand in the center of his face while splattering the paint on it. Though, after a second look, Syler hoped it was just red paint and not something else. One could never really tell with the Krue. "I am Delmonor Grelad," he said in a thick accent. "Follow me to where your companions are being held." Syler's eyes narrowed in suspicion and his hand came to rest on his sword. "'Held?' Are they prisoners?" Delmonor bowed his head, "Forgive me, I misspoke. Your tongue is difficult to remember. They are waiting for you to arrive." His suspicions assuaged for now, Syler accepted the explanation and gestured to him to lead the way. The towering warrior took them through the streets to the edge of the city where Growald, his men, and their friends were currently surrounded by a few dozen Kruish warriors mounted on hasuan. The horses of their companions were oddly out of place against the larger and more majestic hasuan of the Krue. Syler saw a familiar mop of messy red hair and called out, "Havert!" as he ran to greet his friend. He had forgiven Havert of all of their differences while they had been fleeing from the Shalktra and hoped he would get the time to amend their friendship now. Havert turned around just in time to brace for Syler's fierce hug. "Whoa—" he said before the air was squeezed out of his lungs. "Syler," Lamastus said as he slapped Syler's back. "It is good to see you, but what about Bron. . ." Syler let go of Havert in time to see the Angvardi staring with his mouth hanging open at the fully healed Bronwyn standing shyly behind her husband. Syler laughed, wrapped his arm around her waist, and said, "She is better now, as you can see." "The Krue healed her?" Alltis asked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Bronwyn. "Not exactly, but it is a long story. All you need to know is that she is fully recovered." Syler didn't feel like going into everything at this point, especially not near Growald and his men. "Guardian" or not, he didn't trust the man. "It is good to see you back on your feet," Alltis said as she wrapped Bronwyn up in a warm hug. The two women had never been especially close before they were forced to leave Kubei, but on their journey, Alltis had taken care of some of Bronwyn's more intimate needs. She often helped comfort Syler on those dark nights when all seemed hopeless and had grown to care about the two of them. When the embrace was over, she added, "We were really worried about you. I am so happy that you are back on your feet." Bronwyn's blush only deepened but she said, "Thank you, I have a few memories of that time, enough to know you were truly kind to me. I won't forget that." Havert had apparently recovered from Syler's hug because he managed to get out a few words. "Good ta see ya too, go easy on me please." "I am just glad to see you," replied Syler with a giant smile on his face. "I see you figured everything out," a familiar, gruff voice said. Syler turned to see Growald looking at the five of them with a smug, self satisfied smirk on his face. "I told you that coming here would be the only way to cure the girl," Growald said. "Yes," replied Syler, "but it wasn't how you think it was. You had no idea what I had to do to get her." The other man crossed his burly arms across his chest and said with bemusement and sarcasm thick on his voice, "Truly? You mean that you didn't figure out that not only do you have the ability to repulse magical spells used against you, but also to purge them in others? Or were you referring to your ability to reverse the effect of spells with which you were able to heal the Kutii? You can see them to deconstruct them from within and thus control the spell itself enough to remove them from their targets, right?" Syler's jaw dropped a little and his face reddened. "You knew! The whole time, you knew that I could have helped her from the start?" With a smirk, Growald said, "Of course I knew, that is part of my job, boy." "Then why didn't you tell me!" shouted Syler as he balled his fists in preparation for another fight. "Because I was forbidden to do so," he replied frankly with a nonchalant shrug. "We all have orders to follow and I was following mine." Syler gaped at the man as he struggled not to charge over and hit him. Bronwyn reached over and took hold of his arm. "Syler, fighting won't do any good here." He nodded and took a deep breath and addressed Growald in a level voice, "Who gave you these 'orders?'" "Individuals far more powerful than even you are," snapped Growald. "And, might I add, they are infinitely more intimidating than you, too." Only Bronwyn's grasp on him kept Syler from leaping for Growald's throat. He didn't know what it was about this man that enraged him so, but he was tired of dealing with him. "So you knew all along who I was and what I could do?" The smug look returned to his face. "Yes, from the first time I met you in Kubei, I knew exactly who you were. It was pretty obvious ta me, but you needed to be eased into things. That is why I goaded you into that little fight of ours, see?" With a frown, Syler said, "No, I don't." Growald rolled his eyes and said, "Don't you remember what happened to you when you were nearly beaten? You found a second wind, a new source of energy that gave you strength and power while healing you in the process." "You knew about that?" "Of course, that is why I didn't just knock you out in the first ten seconds like I could have. You had to learn, you had to discover it on your own. Miss Vekla there knows what I am talking about, don't you dearie?" Syler hadn't seen the sorceress approach, but when he looked back, she was standing a few yards behind him listening in on the conversation with interest. She was currently staring daggers at Growald, but she did nod in affirmation. "We call it the kasor eka vaeltinin, the fury for another. Prophecy says that should you be fighting to protect another whom you believe is innocent, you have the ability to call upon a holy strength fueled by your righteous fury. It heals your body and gives you great stamina and strength, but it comes at a cost. When your last foe is defeated, the strength leaves you and you are left weak and drained. It could leave you merely exhausted or it could cause you to black out. The more you learn to use and control it, the less drained you will be after." "Do you know anyone who can do something like this?" She nodded. "There are those of our gifted can get into such furies, but the ones who can are few in number." Syler thought back to his fight with Growald and a lot of things made sense. He supposed that was the odd red and white haze that clouded his vision. It didn't make much sense to him at the time, but then, he had never been experienced with magic and had no idea what those who did felt or saw as they cast spells. "Does it heal me as well?" he asked. Vekla cocked her head sideways and narrowed her eyes. "Not that I have knowledge of. It gives strength and endurance, but it does not possess healing magics." One of Syler's eyebrows perked up. "Well, if what I was using against Growald was this spell of yours, then it left me completely healed after I woke up. Not a scratch on my body." "I have heard of no such thing," the sorceress admitted. "But then, you are the Majiyae Oretezu so it is possible that you can do things others cannot." "Growald, do you know anything about this?" Syler shot him a dirty look and added, "Now is not the time to be concealing things. If you know something, tell me." Growald allowed his arms to flap against his sides in a full body shrug. "Nope, I don't know a thing about healing. I knew you could get yerself into a tizzy, but that it could heal you is news to me." After glaring at the Seinari for a few seconds, Syler decided that he was telling the truth and sighed. Despite answering several questions he had been harboring, this information gave rise to new ones that Syler wasn't happy to have. "So," he asked Growald, "if you knew who I was, why did you do that? What was the point of beating me near to death and insulting Bronwyn in front of our friends? Why couldn't you just tell me like Vekla did?" Never one to pass up the opportunity for a good smirk, Growald threw a truly mocking one Syler's way. "Because, boy, it wasn't my purpose. I am here to guard you and make sure you don't get yourself killed, not to explain everything to you. I took some liberties in doing what I did back in Kubei, but I dare say it was worth it. Wouldn't you, girl?" The last part was directed to Bronwyn, but she only blinked and said, "I don't know what you are talking about. What you did to him was cruel and unnecessary. He could have been seriously injured and would have had it not been for the miraculous healing." Growald waved away her arguments. "I will spell it out for ya," he replied. "If I hadn't shown him what he could do, he wouldn't have been able to save your life. Sometimes, ya need to make a total plunge into the unknown without knowing where it would lead you. If you know it can be done, you lose the courage and some of the strength that men facing impossible odds seem to get. Do you follow me there, boy?" Syler considered the man's words as calmly as he could. It was true, had he now known that by giving into the red fury that he would eventually touch upon some form of power and strength, he might not have been able to gather the strength needed to summon Suella. He had been desperate, at his last straw with no hope and nothing to lose. If he had a plan that he thought could work, he might not have been able to throw his caution into the wind and take the sort of risks that he had while treating with the Elements. As he thought about it more, it almost made sense in a perverted sort of way that in fighting against Growald, he had learned something that had allowed him to save his beloved's life. The man's methods were harsh, perhaps even cruel, but they had worked. He still wasn't happy in giving the brute credit, but he did manage to say, "You could have just told me afterwards what you had done." Growald crackled in amusement. "Where is the fun in that? 'Sides, it wouldn't have done you any good until you came into your other powers and had proof that even a stubborn guy like you couldn't ignore. And, ask yourself this: would you ha' believed me if I told you that you were some sort of hero destined to either save or destroy this world?" "No," admitted Syler reluctantly. "I wouldn't have. I would have probably tried to beat your face in." "See there? Ole Growald knew what he was doing." "Don't push it. I still don't like you one bit." "That just breaks me heart," said Growald though he didn't seem to devastated about it as he walked back toward his other men. With the burly and crude soldier gone, the mood in their group lightened considerably. Havert and Alltis began peppering Syler and Bronwyn with questions about what had had happened. Despite her shyness at all the attention being directed toward her, Bronwyn seemed proud to point out all that her husband had done for her. The others didn't seem to believe it, but the presence of a Kruish sorceress who was listening and not disputing what was said lent a great deal of weight to her words. After fifteen minutes of catching up, Bronwyn took Alltis aside and was saying something that she clearly meant to be private. That left Syler, Lamastus, Havert, and Vekla to their own, though the sorceress had by this time slowly taken several steps back and seemed absorbed in her own thoughts. "Syler," Lamastus said with a gulp, "there is something I think I need to say to you and Havert." "What is it?" replied Syler with curiosity. "Back at Fazei, well, I know I was in favor of you putting Bronwyn out of her misery. I wanted to apologize for what I said. I was wrong and shouldn't have tried to interfere, and I shouldn't have quarreled with Havert." While Syler understood what his friend was doing, he wasn't going to let him take all the blame. "Don't apologize. Remember, it was I who was the one holding the knife." He pointed over to Havert. "He is the one who stopped me and saved Bronwyn's life." He clasped his best friend's forearms and said in a low, serious voice. "For that, I owe you a great deal. Even in my darkest moment, you were there to help me with the voice of wisdom. Without your courage in standing up to me, I would have lost the most precious thing to me. If there is ever anything I can do for you, just ask and I will do it." Havert's normally ruddy complexion turned even more red. "Aww, ya don't owe me nothin'. I did what ya woulda done for me were the situation changed." Syler wasn't going to let him get away so easily, "No, I owe you and mark my words, I will repay that debt one day when you need it." Lamastus tapped Syler on the shoulder and said hesitantly, "Uh, Syler, you haven't done anything to offend them here, have you?" "No, the clan lord personally granted us all his protection and has been treating Bronwyn and I quite well. We even stayed the night in his own estate." "Okay, that is good." Clearly, Lamastus was worried about something, because his hand strayed to his sword. Syler looked around to see what it was that was getting him so nervous and quickly found the source. A small company of heavily armed and armored warriors was marching down the street toward the corral they were currently in. "Hang on," he said, "let me figure out what is going on." He walked over to Vekla, but before he could say anything, she cut him off and said, "It is time, Syler Penion of Sandrin." "Time for what?" asked Alltis. She and Bronwyn had noticed the commotion and had followed him to investigate. Syler shrugged, "Apparently, I have to undergo some sort of confirmation ceremony or something that the clan lord feels is necessary." "It is," shot Vekla. "It has been written for centuries and so it must come to pass." "What if it doesn't?" Syler asked. He didn't mean to be belligerent, but he was curious. "I mean, it might be in prophecy, but what if I refuse to undergo it? Does that suddenly make the prophecy false?" She looked at him with an expression so fierce that he took a step back. "No, it means that you are not the Majiyae Oretezu. That means you have come to us under false pretenses and therefore, your dolothmorin would be considered broken and we will treat you as we do all invaders into our territory." Syler gulped at the thought. He had forgotten just how brutal the Krue could be after the quite hospitable treatment he had received from them. "That is a very good point. Sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you, I was just curious." The sorceress's expression didn't change. She turned around abruptly and started toward the dozens of newly arriving warriors. Syler didn't need to be told that she was expecting him to follow her. From beside him, Bronwyn said softly but firmly, "Syler, I think now would be a good time to be quiet." Having learned that she was usually right in these things, he shut his mouth and followed the Krue.

Yea, originally it was something like "tiny fractured nails" and a slightly different ending, but I edited it because I used "nails" twice. I will fix that up. As for the morning transition, that was my concern. I think I will go through and have a little bit more before at the end of the night segment to show her beginning to see hope again. I will work on it a tiny bit more and then see if I can't make that work a little better. I definitely wanted Bronwyn to be a bit more accepting and even perhaps aggressive than the original version. The way I see it, she has been wanting Syler's love and attention (physical and otherwise) for some time now and at this point, all of her fears have been shown as being unfounded and she finally has him accepting and returning her love, so she is eager to jump on the situation (and him). Not only that, but she has just spent the last month in pretty much a semi-coma like state where she was helpless. Now, she can actually do something and is restless after all of that inactivity. The burden of all her doubts and fears has been lifted and she feels much freer to act and take risks. You know, that sounds kinda good, I may just leave the chapter somewhat as it is and have the intro of the next chapter explain that as it is. It already starts out in her perspective, so it wouldn't be too hard to slip that in.

Okay, I am done with this chapter. It is driving me crazy and I need a break from it. This is the chapter where Syler and Bronwyn (who have been married for over four months now) finally "do it." It was a hard enough chapter to begin with, but I decided to add an extra layer with the whole addition of Syler nearly killing Bronwyn to things. There was a lot going on in this chapter and I had to move and rearrange a lot. The majority of the original chapter was wiped out, though some of the general plot was added in. The biggest change was that I wanted to do perspectives from Syler and then Bronwyn before going back to Syler. I thought it would be easier so that the reader could see where Bronwyn was (frequently mistakenly) coming from in their conversation at the end of this chapter. That being said, I am SURE there are problems and errors here. If you can find some of them, great, but I will probably have to go back over this when my eyes aren't crossed and bleary. I think you will get a chuckle at the end, though, but it is a risk having it end like that. Let me know what you think of it all because I am not sure about the entire chapter. Though, if I may say, I think the whole idea of the bathtubs is quite cool and like that addition. Oh, I have gone back and fixed the errors you found and pointed out in your last post. __________________ Chapter 25 Mishna felgua, eka iares haelait tresual neith dalfedas laprat. [Love often, for we don't know what tomorrow brings.] — Kruish saying Lord Saekoris' Estate Thwrud Subeleth October 3 True to his word, Lord Saekoris had Vekla escort them a short distance to where his house stood tall compared to the rest of the buildings. Syler was impressed at its size and imposing architecture. No house in Sandrin was anywhere near this large and only a few of the highest officials in Kubei had such estates. It wasn't just the size that was imposing, it was how the house was built. Syler was not used to being in the presence of such large and richly decorated structures. There were details here that were clearly beyond the means of the common folk, yet for some reason, they didn't seem luxurious. Everything here had a purpose and seemed to be made with care to either invite guests or turn away intruders. Everything was finely crafted, but it wasn't gaudy. The grounds were surrounded by an iron wall with yet more pine trunks to serve as posts. Guards patrolled the perimeter and watched over the entrances. While they weren't exactly hostile looking, especially with Vekla leading them, they did not have the look of complacency about them. These were men who were used to fighting and had not yet had their senses dulled by age or lack of action. Inside the wall, tall hedges ran along either side and toward the back of the house itself to provide privacy. To the left side of the house, connected by a covered walkway, was a large stable clearly meant for housing hasuan. The roofs of a few other buildings that could be servant's quarters stuck out behind the stable, but Syler couldn't get a close look at them. The entire house itself was made out of giant pine trunks that had been stripped of their limbs and stacked on top of each other. Dark brown mortar filled in the gaps between the logs. Seemingly everywhere there was space, the tall carved pillars loomed over them with their engravings of war, death, and destruction contrasting with depictions of feasts, harvests, and children. Along the eves were more carvings of fierce bearded warriors and hasuan to guard the house from whatever evils the Krue were afraid of. The house's outer walls went straight up for three levels with tremendously wide pine logs serving as stabilizers at the corners and at regular junctions. Ropes secured the horizontal logs to the vertical ones and whatever holes were left had more of the dark mortar plastered within. Syler could see multiple windows with the warm light of fire shining from within, though most had curtains for privacy. Torches lit the grounds and the building itself with tremendous fires burning atop them. Having never been in an environment where flammable material was exactly abundant, to see so much fire struck him as a great waste. Perhaps here, among so much wood and tinder, the Krue had grown accustomed to a nearly infinite amount of burnable resources and took advantage of that fact. The front doors were made of wood framed in brass, similar to the longhouse, but with much more metal. The brass had more murals etched into it, but these were mostly writing in the Krue's strange runic language. Entering the house was equally imposing and awe inspiring. Greeting them was an impressively large double staircase and a chandelier with another ball of free floating natural fire burning above it. The floors and stairs were made of dark, polished wood. Syler couldn't see much past this room because the other doors were closed, but there were plenty of servants waiting to show him to his place. They were greeted by five individuals, three men and two women. Two of the men and both women were dressed in similar, simple robes while the last man was dressed in finer materials and seemed to be the one in charge. After a few brief words with Vekla, the four servants quickly glided silently up to them and directed them forward. Vekla remained at the doorway while the two of them were escorted in through the doors between the two staircases. Once within, they were separated. When he protested, the servant merely said in a thick accent, "Men do not bathe with women, it not proper. See her after." It made sense, but after being so physically close to her for weeks, it seemed unnatural not to be within arm's reach of her. This would be the first time that he had been away from her since rescuing her at the Kubei Temple. She didn't protest and he had so far seen nothing to give him cause for alarm, so he relented and allowed himself to be taken down a separate hallway. Syler was taken into a room at the end of the hall with a set of stairs that led down into the ground. Instead of being cold underground, it felt warmer and almost inviting. The three of them went through another door at the bottom of the stairs and immediately, Syler understood why they were below ground. The air was far warmer here and decidedly more humid, so he assumed that there had to be hot springs running below the house that had been converted into bathing rooms. At the door, the two male servants tending to Syler went straight to a door on the other side of the room leaving him to explore its contents. He found himself in a small waiting room with several racks, chests, and wardrobes lined up along the wall. The door that the two servants had entered had wisps of steam coming out of it and he assumed that was where the bath was. The clothes on the racks were mostly padded leather garments or furs, but there were a few lighter woolen pieces. Since they had led him here and Lord Saekoris had offered his hospitality, Syler assumed that he was meant to help himself to what was in the room. He was quite eager to get out of the clothes he had been in for the last month. Even with an extra pair to alternate in, they were still filthy and threadbare and he was more than eager to be out of them. In addition to the clothes, the room also had combs, razors, belts, four different types of knives, and jewelry. The jewelry was mostly gold or silver, though Syler noticed a few pieces that had platinum in them. Few had any gems in them at all, but were mostly bracelets and complexly interwoven chains. He admired the intricate metalwork of each piece and noted some of the styles that the smiths had used. Despite the utilitarian functionality of their clothing, the Krue apparently valued delicately crafted and very detailed metalwork. He hoped that he might have a chance to meet whatever goldsmith crafted these pieces and learn some of what he knew. When he had selected some clothes that looked like they would fit, Syler entered the back room. The first thing he did was to take a deep breath and savor the warm steam. Unsurprisingly, the room smelled of pine, but beneath it was a subtle hint of spices that had a slight musky scent. In front of him was a stone tub with hot water bubbling out of multiple holes in the front and apparently flowing out of more holes in the back. The current didn't look to be very fast, but it would be enough to take away most of the dirty water. He had not been able to enjoy a hot bath in a very long time and would truly enjoy this. The two men were waiting for him, one with a small collection of towels and the other with various soaps and brushes. They clearly were under the impression that he would need them to tend to him, but that wasn't what Syler was interested in. He was old enough to bathe himself and didn't need any help, especially from strangers. "I don't think I will be needing your services," he said. They gave him blank looks, so he motioned for them to leave the towels and soap before pointing to the door. They didn't quite seem to get his intent, so he gently took what they were holding, set it down, and guided them out of the door. He didn't stop there, but made sure they were back out in the hallway so he could have both rooms to himself. He peeled off the old and dirty clothes and got into the steaming hot water. There were scented soaps and actual towels to use near the tub. After the days of endless travel and nothing but a blanket to shield him from the cold, hard ground at night, this made him feel far, far better. He quickly scrubbed off all of the dirt and grime from his body and dunked his head under the water several times before applying some of the soap to it as well. As he was in more of a stream than a tub, the water didn't get cold or stale, but was constantly refreshed by the underground stream. Syler wanted to stay and soak for hours, but he also wanted to see to Bronwyn. He was eager to be able to speak to her in private now that she was fully conscious. So far, they hadn't had a moment alone together. After getting out and drying himself off, he put on the clothes he had selected. Furs and leathers were probably too warm for the autumn day, so he had selected a deep green shirt made of wool and some matching trousers. He added to that his sword belt and another smaller leather belt and knife from Lord Saekoris' stock. Without the furs and leather armor that most Krue men were wearing, this probably wasn't going to help him blend in among the culture here, but it was simple and plain, just as he liked it. As soon as he was dressed, he called for the servants. They entered immediately and Syler figured they had been waiting outside his door the entire time. "Take me to where Bronwyn is." He hoped she had been able to enjoy the luxury he had just experienced and was relaxing. Now that they had both had the time to clean up and get into some fresh clothes, he hoped that she would be feeling far better and well rested. The two men looked at each other, then back at him. One of them said in an apologetic voice, "Kae haelait usasto nua, senaer." "What?" The men shook their heads again, though one held up a finger and said, "L'oreathus." He trotted out of the room leaving the other man watching over his charge. The first man returned a couple of minutes later with the finely dressed man who had greeted them earlier. "What is it that the lord's guest desires?" "I want to be taken to where Bronwyn is," said Syler. "She is the woman that came with me." The man bowed his head and said, "Follow me, senaer." The four of them ascended the stairs and were back onto the ground level and quickly ended up back at the entrance to the estate. This time, though, Syler was led up to the second level and into a room. The room was luxurious beyond what Syler could have ever expected to spend any amount of time in. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had thick dark red carpet laid over the wood planks that made up the floor. A giant bed with a dark green comforter and plush white pillows rested in the middle of the back wall of the room. To either side of the room were dark dressers with assorted accessories for both men and women on top. Above the dressers were actual mirrors surrounded by carved wooden frames. Two plush leather chairs sat in one corner on either side of a small table that had various foods and drinks already placed on it. Clearly, when Lord Saekoris offered his hospitality, he didn't hold back. About the only thing the room didn't have in it was Bronwyn. Syler turned to the man with anger quickly rising and asked heatedly, "Where is she? You told me that you were taking me to my wife." The man bowed his head, but stood his ground. "I say no such thing, senaer. I say to follow, you follow. Wife is where women go and will come here when ready." He gestured to the food and said, "Here, eat and enjoy Ley Saekoris' gifts." Syler crossed his arms and considered arguing, but stopped short. If Bronwyn wanted to spend a little more time enjoying the hot springs, who was he to deny her that. As much as he wanted to see her, he was willing to wait until she was ready. Bronwyn went where the two women were leading her without complaint. Even if Syler was a little hesitant about parting ways, she knew just enough about the Krue to know not to try to fight them in their own house. They led her down to an opulent waiting room full of beautiful clothes and jewelry, but none of that got her attention. The thought of a bath only slightly garnered her interest, but she knew she needed one. Besides, it would give her a chance to see exactly what Syler had done to her when he healed her body. She allowed the two servants to pull off her matted clothes and help her into the steaming hot tub of flowing water. She had to admit, it felt absolutely wonderful, though not as good as it should have. Usually, after just a single day's work with Syler in the forge, she was sore all over and it hurt getting into their old wooden tub. She had been on the road for a month while extremely injured and yet, when she stretched out in the water, she didn't feel any sore muscles or aching joints. In fact, she felt quite good all things considering. As the servants scrubbed her skin clean and tended to the hair that had magically grown back down to the middle of her back, she looked over her body. There was not a single mark anywhere to be found on her skin. Every trace of what the Shalktra had done to her was gone and, in its place, there was healthy skin. Her lips were no longer cracked from dehydration, but were soft and full. Her finger and toenails had mended together and were no longer tiny fractured from when they hammered her fingers. The hair on her head wasn't the only thing to return, either. The hair under her arms, between her thighs, and on her arms and legs had regrown and filled in where it had been ripped out or burned off. The bones that had been broken were back in their original spots and her face once again felt normal to her exploring fingers. Even the calluses on her hands and feet had faded and been replaced with soft skin. More curiously, her scars were gone. Not the ones that she received during those horrible three days, but all of them. The small scars on her fingers where she had cut herself while working with flax fibers or in the kitchen were gone. The scar on her side from the time she fell into a thorn bush and gotten cut up was no longer there. Her skin was flawless, without any imperfection, as though someone sheltered her from the time she was born to the present. With a small sense of happiness, she realized that the birthmark on her knee was still there. Her father had always joked that it looked like a lemon from the South with a tiny stem and leaf still attached, but she couldn't see it. Anyone who could command such magic was someone who had great power, and it scared her. She had but a few memories of what had happened since being captured. For the most part, she remembered blurs of endless pain and humiliating rape, then there were only dreams. She wouldn't have known how long she had been out except for the fact that she had been told. She walked out of her house to go to the market leaving behind a normal, gentle, and caring, if not somewhat distant, blacksmith of a husband and woke up to find that he had become an extremely powerful wielder of magic who had the respect of the Krue because he was destined to become some sort of champion against the Immortals themselves. It was a lot for her to take in and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She had grown up an outsider because of how she was born. She had only wanted to be normal, to be loved, and to have a peacefully dull life. That dream was gone now, and it wouldn't be coming back even if she wanted it to. Then there was Syler. The man whom she had been living with had surprised her. He had gathered enough men to rescue her, and he had been changed forever by what followed. He had killed and been hunted and those things changed a person. She had seen it in the fresh new warriors who left the village with excitement in their hearts and returned with pain in its place. He had always wanted to go get his sister, and now he could. Without her stopping him or slowing him down, he would be able to move much faster. He didn't even have to worry about the guilt of leaving her in hostile territory since the Krue had extended sanctuary to her and that didn't expire until the lord who issued it died or she violated the hospitality. He could go off and rescue his sister and leave her behind without second thought. She knew that he risked much to free her, but that didn't mean he wanted to be stuck with her forever. He was a good and honorable enough man to make sure that his friends were taken care of. Had it been Havert that had been captured, he would have done the exact same thing. She was just a friend to him, someone who he cared about, but could never truly love. Back in Kubei, she had vowed to love him no matter whether he loved her back, but now, in the middle of Krue territory, that vow seemed foolish. Why would he want to keep her around? She had no useful skills out in the wilderness and couldn't fight, so she was worthless to him. She had not been able to hold out against their questioning. Instead of being strong, she had told them everything she knew about Syler and her kvastati. She was weak and unworthy of such a valiant man. That was especially true if he was indeed more than a simple blacksmith, but was this Majiyae Oretezu that Lord Saekoris thought he was. How could he ever love her now? Besides, any hope she had ever had that he would ever want her were gone now. She might be healed on the outside, but he knew what had happened to her. He had seen the results of the rape and how her body had been horribly violated. One of the most important things for any young woman was to remain pure and untainted for her husband, and she had failed miserably. Syler didn't know what exactly they did to her or how they abused her. Man after man had come in and had their way with her while she was chained and helpless. The pain they caused was more than just physical, and that was the point. They had used and broken her in the most personal, humiliating way imaginable. If Syler knew what had happened, he would never be able to look at her again. She couldn't hold this back from him and would have to tell him sometime, but she feared so much to do so. She let out a small cry as the very thought of the look of disgust Syler would have on his face when he found out. The servants let out a startled gasp and immediately started asking her what was wrong. "Fao raleeth fos aestkra," she assured them both, though her cheeks were growing red. She now felt even worse now for having startled the servants. They gave her a strange look, but went back to work. Bronwyn felt a flash of self consciousness and felt unworthy of being tended to by others. She was nothing special, so she didn't deserve having servants tend to her. "Vangroos bwe," she said, asking them to leave her. They paused, but didn't start to leave, so she repeated herself with a little more force. As soon as they had set down what they were holding and bowed their heads, they departed the room and left her in peace. When they were gone, she was able to think in peace without them preening around her. Her thoughts were dark and brought her only more pain. During the hazy weeks of their flight, she could remember only certain things, and one of those things was a vision of Syler thrusting a knife into her heart. She knew he derived no pleasure from the action, but it showed that his patience for dealing with her had a limit. He did care for her, she knew that much at least, but his care had limits. Maybe he should have done it and ended it all then and there. It would be so much easier than facing him. That vision of him standing over her with a knife contrasted so much with what he said and dreamed that she couldn't tell what was true any longer. He seemed eager to be near her while speaking with Lord Saekoris, but how much of that was happiness to see a friend back on her feet and how much of it was gladness that he was no longer bound to her? Perhaps he would be better off without her dragging him down. If it wasn't for her, he could have been with his sister at this very moment and living a happy life in the mountains as he had dreamed of. She was just an extra piece of baggage, a burden that he wouldn't tolerate bearing forever. She wanted to stay in the warm bath and hide forever, but she couldn't. They would wait for a time, but the servants would eventually overcome their fear of her commands and escort her out. She had wallowed in misery and doubt long enough, it was time for her to face Syler and discover what the future had in store for her. There was no need to make a scene and only further embarrass Syler, so she got out of the water. After spending so long in the hot water, the cool air was chilling and sent goosebumps up and down her body. She quickly grabbed a towel and started drying herself off. When she was dry and had put on some clean clothes, she opened the door to where the servants were waiting to escort her to wherever they were told to take her. Syler was sitting in one of the leather chairs when he heard someone outside the door. Expectantly, he got up and stood there hoping that it would be Bronwyn. He had been waiting here for perhaps half an hour and was growing impatient. He knew how long it took Bronwyn to bathe and this was excessive. If they kept her from him for too much longer, he was going to cause a scene and put his host's benevolence to the test. When Bronwyn stepped through the door, his heart skipped a beat. She wore an off white tunic that she had wrapped around her thin body and her hair was still wet, but she left it down to flow to the middle of her back. She was cleaner than he had seen her in a great long time and, best of all, wasn't covered in wounds and blood soaked bandages. She didn't limp or seem to have any residual injuries at all. Then he saw her face. Her eyes were glazed over and looked slightly reddened as though she had been crying. Her shoulders sagged a little which made her head droop like she was holding a great weight on her back. She moved without purpose or hope like a condemned woman on her way to the chopping block. Truth be told, Syler thought that she looked lost and overwhelmed, but he didn't say anything. "How are you?" he asked cautiously. She gave him a faint smile, but, like back in the clan house, it wasn't genuine. "I feel better. The bath helped." Her voice was just like her smile: fake. "That is good," he responded not knowing what else to say. He had been so eager to see her and talk to her in a real conversation for weeks now, but now that the time had come when he could, he was nervous and didn't know what to say. He had pictured it in his mind over and over, but his imagination hadn't been able to come up with anything like this. "It has been a hard month, hasn't it?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. She looked down and nodded. "I hope you weren't hurting too much, I tried to keep you as comfortable as possible, but it was hard to do with us being on the move." "I know," she said. She didn't speak for a little while and Syler didn't know what else to say. She walked over to the foot of the bed, but didn't sit. Instead, she remained standing and fidgeted with the hem of her tunic and staring at the ground. There was silence for several minutes because Syler didn't know what to say and Bronwyn didn't seem eager to start a conversation. The two servants must have picked up on the awkwardness of the situation because they began to look nervous. Despite that, they stood dutifully at attention waiting to be called upon even though Syler didn't think they would know the Common Tongue any more than his two servants did. "I feel sorry for the servants," Syler said, once again trying to lighten the mood. "They have no idea what is going on, but aren't moving because they are trained not to." Bronwyn took a few seconds to snap out of her thoughts. When she did, she said, "Nua butheur vangroos nare aktura." They both bowed their heads and left without a word, looking relieved to be able to do so. "You speak Kruish?" asked Syler with raised eyebrows. "Kruish and Kutiic are very similar languages," she explained in a dull, disinterested voice. "They are close enough for us to understand each other if we use simple words." "Oh," he said. He hadn't known there was any connection between the Krue and Kutii beyond the fact that both of their names started with a "k." From what he had seen, the two cultures were so different that he didn't even see any similarities between them at all, but he didn't press subject. He would have to ask Lord Saekoris about it later. Even though the servants were gone, Bronwyn didn't say anything, but went back to staring at her feet. Something had changed in her even from when they were talking with Lord Saekoris. She seemed afraid of him now, and that concerned Syler a great deal. The entire situation reminded him somewhat of the first evening they had together back in Kubei and he had been afraid of saying something wrong. Syler didn't know what to do, so he just kept standing there in silence waiting for her to speak. At last, she looked up at him and hesitantly asked, "Did you mean it?" Syler furrowed his brow and said, "Mean what?" "The part about loving me and wanting to spend the rest of your life with me." Syler sagged in relief. If that was what she was worried about, then he was relieved. "Yes, most definitely yes. I was a fool not to see it before, but when you were taken, it crushed me. I couldn't bear to live without you. The most important thing in my life at that point was getting you back." He paused, then added with a slight smile, "It was important enough for me that I even went to Growald for help." That last comment earned him a faint smile that seemed to be genuine. The smile rapidly faded and was replaced with a more serious face. "Am I really the most important thing in your life?" "I just said you were," replied Syler. "I love you and would give up anything for you." Her head snapped up and her eyes focused intently on him. "Even Karusa?" she asked. There was no hesitation in her response, she was a hawk locked onto her prey. The change startled Syler causing him to involuntarily shirk back in his chair. He had to consider carefully how to respond to this. Clearly, this was something that was weighing heavily in her mind and he needed to come up with a clear, correct answer. "Karusa is my sister and will always be so," he said cautiously. "I love her and would fight to get her back because she is my sister." He looked into her eyes and said in a steady voice, "But that is not why I love you or why I fought to get you back. I love you because you are a wonderful woman who is compassionate yet strong, dedicated yet independent, and are someone I can trust. I love you because I choose to love you. "We were made husband and wife against our will while we were strangers to each other. In time, I think we came to love each other, at least I did. From what I understood of that night when I fought Growald, I think you came to love me as well. I took you for granted before and that was my mistake, one that I regret heavily, but not one I wish to repeat. "I had a choice to make during our journey. I could have killed you and put you out of the pain and terror you were in and then been able to continue on to find my sister, or I could come up here to the Krue and risk my life that they wouldn't skewer me on sight, and leave my sister in whatever situation she is in. I suffered and had the others with us suffer taking you across hundreds of miles of harsh terrain in the determination to see you saved and because I was unwilling to leave you to your death." "Then why did you want to kill me?" Bronwyn blurted out. Her fists were balled and she took a few steps toward him. "What?" he exclaimed. "Don't say you didn't!" she cried. "I saw you with a knife and your dreams of plunging it through my heart!" Her cheeks were getting red with emotion and her lower lip was quivering as she tried to hold in the tears. She was now standing over him glaring down at him with manic desperation in her eyes. Syler's cheek blazed in shame and he could no longer hold her gaze. "I was at my wit's end at Fazei Crossing when it seemed that there was no way to get across. The Angvardi had blocked off the bridge and there was no way you would survive a crossing. You weren't healing and nothing I was doing was helping. I had no other choice but to continue indefinitely with you suffering and no hope in sight or to give you a quick death." He reached out and took hold of her hands, only vaguely noticing that they were cold. "I couldn't let you continue to suffer, so I decided to do the only merciful thing I could do." "You wanted to kill me," replied Bronwyn with pain written all over her face. She pulled her hands out of his and retreated to the foot of the bed once more. There, she sat down and hang her head while burying her face in her hands. "Bronwyn, I didn't mean it like—" "No, don't apologize," she interrupted, though she kept her face buried. Her voice brimmed with defeat and acceptance of a seemingly inevitable doom. "You were right to do that and I understand that, I really do." "No, I wasn't," said Syler firmly. "It was short sighted and I should have never thought that. I don't know what came over me, but if I could, I would go back to that moment and stop myself from even considering killing you." "You couldn't keep holding onto me forever, Syler," she replied softly. "You did more than any man would be expected to do." "No, if I had been a truly honorable man, I would have kept on going. Havert was right and I was wrong," admitted Syler miserably. Bronwyn lifted her head. "You have to consider your sister and your duty to her." "My duty to my sister does not supersede my duty to my wife. I should have risked going into a city to find a healing mage or even a wizard." "It wouldn't have done any good," she pointed out. "Yes, but I didn't know that then," replied Syler. "There was no excuse and I nearly killed you." He paused and stared at the floor. "I failed you," he added bitterly. Now it was Bronwyn's turn to grab his hands. She got up and crossed those few feet and kneeled down in front of him. She took both of his calloused hands in her smooth ones and brought them up to her mouth to kiss them. "No, Syler Penion, you didn't fail me, you saved me. Twice. It was I who failed you when I couldn't resist those men torturing me for information about you." "Don't you ever think that." He thought he had made it clear to her back in the storage yard in Kubei that he didn't hold it against her. "I told you, I don't think that is your fault. They used magic against you and did unspeakable things to get you to talk. Those men are monsters who are well trained in how to torture information out of soldiers and men far stronger than either of us." Syler noticed that her hands, while slightly warmer than before, were now trembling at the memories of what happened to her and immediately regretted bringing it up. "I should have held out, I should have fought them more," she mumbled. "I should have held onto my hope or keeping the faith." "Is that what this is about?" he asked in surprise. "You are upset with yourself for not thinking I would come for you and for giving up?" She shook her head slowly and let out a single sob. "I knew you were coming for me, I had seen it. It wasn't you I was doubting, but myself. I knew that you would get me out of that dungeon, but I…" she paused and wiped away tears. "I didn't dare hope you would ever love me." Syler looked at her slack-jawed. "What?" he asked incredulously. He was prepared to say more, but then he realized that it wasn't such an illogical question. He had turned her down and all but ignored her advances for months. Yes, they were close friends, but he held himself back when it was clear she wanted more. How could he fault her for thinking that he would never love her? "Okay," he admitted, "you had good reason to wonder that. I don't hold that against you at all because I was pretty clear how I wanted things before you were taken. As I said, I was a fool. That sort of changed pretty quickly after I realized you were gone. I love you, Bronwyn, and I will stay by you until I am dead. I even stood up against my gods for your sake." She bowed her head and hid her expressions behind her hair. "I am not worthy of that sort of devotion." Syler tried to keep the indignation out of his voice at such a ridiculous statement. "Am I not able to determine who I think is worthy of my love? I choose who I love and who I don't, and I choose to love you." Her head jerked to the side in dismissal, but she didn't say anything. "I wish I could believe you, but it just doesn't make sense." "What doesn't make sense now?" "I could see them while you slept, but I wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't." Syler shook his head in confusion, "What?" She finally looked at him and said numbly, "Your dreams." "My dreams…" repeated Syler expectantly. "I don't know how, but I could see your dreams while we were on the road. Not just my normal kvastat, but your actual dreams. Every night, I could see them. Sometimes they were clear, sometimes they were murky and faded quickly. I suppose that is how dreams are when we have them and forget most of them each night, but I was aware of every one." Syler sat back in his chair and thoughtfully scratched his beard. That was new. He hadn't had any idea she could do that as she had never mentioned it before. He supposed with all the strange things going on with him and his newfound abilities, anything was possible, but it was a strange thought to have someone watching all of his dreams. She was expecting an answer, so he had to quickly sort thought his own thoughts to give her one. "I am sorry if that is confusing to you, but I am here now and will answer whatever questions you have." "Why me?" Syler couldn't help but chuckle at that. "You, of all the women I have ever known, are the most worthy of my love, otherwise, I wouldn't have done what I did. How couldn't I love you? You have been good to me and are a smart, caring woman who works hard and expects nothing in return. You tolerate me even when I don't deserve it and cared for me when I needed it. You could have rejected me from the first, but you didn't. Even when you knew I was planning on leaving Kubei, you wanted to go with me and leave behind your people and everything you knew. I know you loved me, even though I was stupid and didn't return it. "On top of it all, you are a beautiful woman, more beautiful than any I have ever seen, and not just on the outside. I love the way you laugh when I say something funny, the way you are willing to work hard in the forge just so you could be around me. I enjoy your cooking, too, and admire the way you are willing to sacrifice for me without hesitation. I admire how you are willing to accept my quirks, my culture, and my friends even though they are so strange to you." More tears fell down her cheeks, but she said nothing. Syler began to get the sense that there was something else that was eating away at her. They had been dancing around the issue all evening and she had yet to address it. "What is it really, Bronwyn?" he said in a soothing voice. "What is making you so upset? Please, just tell me so I can to make it better." "I don't understand. How could you ever love me now?" she asked. Her eyes found his and didn't move. Syler wanted to slap his face in frustration, but didn't dare act on that. "I just told you why I love you, and that was just a small part of it." Again, she didn't respond. He could tell she was on the verge of saying something, but she couldn't let herself voice her fears. "Bronwyn, you saw my dreams, my inner desires and hopes, and you know I love you. I don't know what it is that you think is so heinous that would change all of that, but I can't think of anything that would make me stop loving you. You could plunge a dagger into my heart right now and my last thought would be on how much I love you." "Syler," she said at last, with tears still streaming down her red eyes. "There is something you don't know." He arched a single eyebrow and tried to keep his face calm. Whatever this dark secret of hers was, it was enough to bring her considerable distress. His own fears began to surface. What if she had lost her love of him after what happened? What if she was having second thoughts about living the hard life he was surely destined for? She had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to persuade him not to love her and that she wasn't worthy, what if that was just her attempts to drive him away as easily as possible without having to break his heart herself? He waited literally on the edge of his seat for her to continue. After hesitating, Bronwyn flushed red and finally said, "I should have told you this when we were talking in Kubei, but I was too ashamed. I wanted to keep myself just for you. I vowed that even if you were to love another woman and would never touch me, I would not give myself to another man. What those Haresu did to me in that cell…" she shuddered from the memory of it. "I was violated in every way. I am not pure any longer and am not worthy of you." When she finished, she finally collapsed to her knees in front of him and wept into his lap. Syler was stunned. He just sat there staring at her in incredulity for a few seconds trying to comprehend it all. That is what she was so worried about? Of all the things he could have pictured, her worries over that was the last of them. "Bronwyn," he said quietly as he gently cupped her chin in both hands. "You didn't violate your vows or betray me. You didn't give yourself to those men, they forced themselves upon you. I know what they did to you and I don't care. It didn't take long for me to figure out what happened to you when I saw what they did to your body. You are not responsible for their brutality, they are. You have done nothing wrong. I don't care what they did to you in that cell, you are a perfect and pure woman in my eyes." She looked up from his lap and sobbed once more, but was clearly trying to choke back the tears. "You would still have me even though I have been violated by many men?" "Yes, Bronwyn, I would," Syler said without hesitation. "I love you and that is all that matters." She made a strained sound deep in her throat. It sounded somewhat like a gasp of surprise disguised as a sob. Her eyes were still glassy and red, but now they held hope that she didn't dare completely give into. "You are a good man, Syler. Better than I deserve." "Nonsense, you are more than I deserve," he said. Gently, ever so gently, he slid out of the chair and onto his knees in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and just held her while she sobbed into his shoulder. They stayed like that for a good deal of time while she just let all of her pent up emotions out. Her chest heaved with great sobs and she cried until no more tears could come. Through it all, even though his legs were growing numb, Syler stayed there holding her tightly against him. Not all of the tears shed were hers. It was just before dawn when Syler was awakened by Bronwyn's shifting against him. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms on the floor, half propped up against the side of the bed. It wasn't exactly a comfortable position, but he had been in worse and at least she wasn't crying any more. Whatever emotions, reservations, or doubts she needed to get out had apparently been released earlier, for when he saw her face, it was happier than he had seen it since she woke up. "Hello," she said cheerfully. "Hello back to you," he replied. "Are you feeling any better?" She nodded with a small smile, so he added, "Do you believe me now when I say I love you?" She blushed, though this time Syler thought it looked cute. "Yes," she mumbled. "I am so sorry that I underestimated you. I should never have doubted you." "It is okay, I forgive you." He tried to flash a serious look, but didn't think it worked. "Just don't you ever forget that again. I would fight through the pits of Vakleem to save you if I had to." "I know." She hesitated for a moment, then grinned teasingly. "You know what I said about seeing all of your dreams? I was wondering if you meant them." "Meant my dreams?" asked Syler hesitantly. "If you mean the parts about wanting to live in peace with you and Karusa and our friends, yes, I did. If you mean the parts about me loving you more than anything else, then yes." "What about the rest?" she asked playfully. Syler blinked a few times. "What rest?" "You know," she said suggestively, "the other things you dreamed about doing with me." Syler's blank expression suddenly changed to panic as he caught onto exactly what she was referring to. Seeing his eyes widen, the grin she was wearing turned into a full blown smile that only got bigger when he flushed in embarrassment. "Umm, well, er," he stammered while trying to find a way out of this. "I can explain." She arched her perfect brow and said with mock sternness, "You had better, Mr. Penion." She snuggled up closer to him and her voice turned sultry. "You had better explain it in great detail. In fact, I think you should show me exactly what you meant." Syler's ears burned in embarrassment and surprise. Whatever issues she had had before were apparently well and done buried along with all the tears. Suddenly conscious of his subconscious mind, he wondered exactly what he had been dreaming about while they slept together because it was one of those nights when he couldn't remember anything but blurs. He didn't have any more time to think about it because suddenly, Bronwyn's lips were on his in a kiss surprisingly full of desire and need. He felt her arms snake around his back as she straddled him on the floor. Any embarrassment was forgotten in the heat of the moment as he wrapped his own arms around her and pulled her to him so fiercely that she gasped in surprise. When they broke the kiss, she looked down at him with deviousness in her eyes. "Syler Penion, husband, I have waited for a long time for this moment and I did not envision laying out on the floor as being part of it. There is a perfectly good bed right behind us that looks far more comfortable, so I suggest we use it." Syler didn't feel like disagreeing one bit.

Brendo, I think you are going to love this chapter. Once again, I was forced to break off the end of this chapter and move it into the next simply because of how much material I put into it. I went into a LOT more detail about the history of Teladia and began to touch upon the origins of the divide between Immortals. I also gave one side's perspective on why exactly there is a "Coming Darkness" or apocalypse and why there is this giant, rather unnatural desert smack dab in between two lush forests. I also touched more on the ancient Kingdom of Zazasp that was mentioned earlier (the Seer from Zazasp). I hope it all makes a bit more sense, especially in light of the expansions in the last two or three chapters. About the most important thing I did in this chapter was to reset the timeline. Originally, we were in the Second Era, but I have decided to move us into the Third Era by adding the First Era as that of the Zazaspi dominance. More will come out on the timeline and various eras shortly as I have been slowly but surely expanding and defining it. Ahh, but back to the chapter itself. I have refined and done tons of work on it, including a great expansion of the Kruish language. Ohh, this is so much fun and I am excited because I will soon start on a Kruish/Kutiic alphabet and lexicon. _____________________________________ Chapter 24 Though mortal he may be, his influence stretches beyond mortals. When war is waged and the end of days is upon the Realms, His strength will determine the fate of two worlds. — Prophecy of Torghus of Krue Vael, known only to the Krue Loremasters Clan Thwrud Longhouse Thwrud Subeleth October 3 Their kiss eventually had to end and its spell faded away. They had to address the issues of the real world around them. Syler sat on the bench facing away from the table with his arm wrapped around a revitalized and completely healed Bronwyn. She hadn't just been healed, but the broken bones had been returned to how their original form as if having not been broken before. Even her hair had been restored to the length that it had once been. The healer woman that had held him up when he was removing the spell was mystified and in shock at what had happened, though Syler secretly shared her surprise. After giving him a minute or two to reassure himself that he wasn't dreaming and that Bronwyn was indeed healed, Lord Saekoris firmly insisted that questions be answered. Syler had no reason to conceal anything, but the truth was that he didn't understand much of what he did himself. The Krue were especially interested in his interaction with the Elements and how he had managed to persuade them to intercede with the Spirits on Bronwyn's behalf. When he had first entered this building, the few who had even deigned to look upon him had done so with suspicion, disgust, curiosity, dismissal, or a combination of the four. The reputation the Krue had for believing themselves superior to other races was clearly accurate. When Lord Saekoris had accepted him into his hospitality, they were forced to accept it but most glared at him with looks that made him think they didn't believe him to be deserving. It was worse than the cold, haughty looks that the Angvardi had given the Sei after they had surrendered at Fazei Crossing because at least the Easterners had treated them as worthy of some respect. Now though, things were quite different. While Lord Saekoris either wasn't surprised or was better at hiding his feelings, the others were quite astonished at what he had done and was saying. The men and women in the building now looked at him with at least some respect and perhaps a little fear. As his full story came out, they teetered between awe of him and calling it all impossible. Even the previously cold Vekla looked at him with newfound consideration instead of outright dismissal. The news of his courageous stand against the Elements and his miraculous healing of Bronwyn quickly spread across the entire town like lightening and people were flocking to the longhouse to hear him speak. As the room and the small balconies around it filled up, additional guards were summoned to keep out any more and to make sure the crowds behaved. He was sitting next to Bronwyn at the front of the table with Vekla and a man who Syler assumed was a military officer of some sort sitting across from them. Lord Saekoris had returned to his upraised throne at the head of the table so he could look out over the crowd. The food that he and Syler had been eating was still there and a famished Bronwyn was eagerly digging into it. It was the first solid food she had been able to eat since being captured. "I don't believe you quite usasto, er, understand the importance of what you have done, Syler Penion of Sandrin," said Lord Saekoris. "To stand against any of the Immortals, especially one of your own gods, in their own realm takes considerable courage. To outwit one is unheard of." "I did what I had to do," replied Syler without any pride in his voice. "They were going to let Bronwyn die and yet, expected me to serve them without complaint." His voice hardened as anger crept into it, "I am tired of doing what others want of me without getting any benefits back. They apparently have some need of me, so I had leverage to use against them." Syler didn't miss the shared look between Vekla and Lord Saekoris. He idly put his arm on Bronwyn's back and ran his fingers through her rich brown hair. Lord Saekoris pursed his lips thoughtfully before responding, "You have a destiny, true, but be careful about putting that to the test. Majiyae Oretezu or not, you are a mortal and if you die, you are dead. Insulting an Immortal is not a wise way to stay alive." "Well, it worked for me." "This time," Vekla pointed out. "Next time you may not mendikat their wrath." Syler knew what they were saying. He had no intention of pressing his luck against them again. He got what he wanted and as long as they stayed out of his life and let him live, then he would not need anything else from them. "So," Lord Saekoris said as he leaned forward, "tell us how you removed the majiyae from your wife." Bronwyn stopped eating so she could look into his eyes for his response. She was clearly interested, but didn't want to interfere. Her expression was one of intense curiosity bordering on a hungry desire to know how he had done what he did. For some reason, despite being able to stare down Elements, defy sorceresses, and stand before Kruish lords, having his wife look at him like that made Syler nervous. Somehow, he knew she wanted to know more than what even Lord Saekoris was interested in. He wasn't sure what, but he had a feeling he would find out sooner or later. "Well," he said nervously, "After Suella touched me and sent me back, I knew I had to do something about the curse. When I went over to her, I could see the energy coming from the marks on her stomach and spreading around her body. Once I saw that, I just kinda, I don't know, banished the curse." "You just banished the curse," Vekla stated incredulously. He could have said that he had single handedly stopped the sun from rising and she wouldn't have looked at him any differently. "Yes, I saw it there clutching her in its tendrils and I envisioned pulling it off of her. When she was free and I had it within my hands, I willed its evil away and cast it aside." The sorceress stared at him blankly as though such a thing was beyond her imagination. "Where did you learn to do such a thing? Who could have taught you magic that powerful?" He shrugged, "I don't know. Like I said, Suella, did something to me just before I woke up. Perhaps that is what she was teaching me to do. I just reacted and did what I thought made sense." "Impossible," she whispered. "I have seen curses much less powerful than that confound even the most powerful of wizards and sorceresses. Even if you could defeat the curse, it would not explain how you healed her so quickly and without the usual spells. Such healing of that magnitude would have taken hours." With a chuckle, Syler patted Bronwyn's leg and said, "Well, I can't explain it, but here she is. If she is not proof enough for you that it is possible, then I can't help you any further." Bronwyn smiled at him, though her lips were pressed tightly together and her eyes didn't share the gesture. He knew her well enough to know that she was simply putting on a show for the others, but that something was worrying her. They didn't have any privacy in the middle of a crowd of Krue, so he would have to wait to find out what it was. Vekla had nothing more to say to that, but bowed her head and looked down at the half empty plate from the previous occupant's dinner that was sitting in front of her. Lord Saekoris lifted his hand and an attendant quickly scrambled through the crowd to his side. He spoke a few words into the man's ear and sat back while his commands were carried out. The man stood up and shouted, "Vangroos ka tugral sek ley!" Syler didn't need a translation because, with a few groans of disappointment, those inside the hall began to filter out through the doors. The guards waited until everyone else was gone before clasping their fists over their hearts and leaving themselves. Only Lord Saekoris, Vekla, Bronwyn, and he were left in the hall. Lord Saekoris remained on his throne while, with a word and a wiggle of her fingers, Vekla caused some regular high backed chairs to float in from behind the throne. She arranged them in a semicircle in front of the throne and motioned for them to be seated. "Now then," began Lord Saekoris with a glance at Bronwyn, "while I would prefer to divulge this information only with Syler Penion of Sandrin, I do not believe I could part the two of you long enough to do it." "That is right," Syler said with a nod of confirmation. "I trust Bronwyn completely, anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her. If she is to help me, she needs to know as much as possible." She gave him a small but genuine smile and took his left hand in hers. "Thank you, you have nothing to fear from me, my love," she said quietly. Lord Saekoris inclined his head agreeably. "Kota fos jhatt, this is true. I follow your wisdom in this matter, Majiyae Oretezu. I hope that in time that I might earn the level of trust that you place in her. Be careful whom you trust, Syler Penion of Sandrin. Not all whom you would wish as friends will be so." He paused and looked over at Vekla, then continued. "I believe it is time for more instructive introductions. I do not believe you know much about our culture, so I will endeavor to help you learn as much as possible in what short time we have left." He tapped his fingers against his chest. "As you know, I am Lord Avenil Saekoris. While being an Inthaley or Clan Lord among the Krue is hardly without honor, that is not what makes me stand out among my kind. I am one of the very few who are part of a secretive society known as the Soun'tezu. In your tongue, the word would translate directly to Loremasters, but that is not what you would call those like us among your kind. You would call us Sages and we are seekers of knowledge as they are, but we are more." "We are not just dedicated to learning about prophecy and wisdom from those who came before, we are dedicated to the aid and protection of the Majiyae Oretezu. All of us learn of the prophecies and lore that manages to find its way into mortal hands through one means or another. "You see, Syler Penion of Sandrin, prophecy is but one of the ways that the Immortals guide us." He reached up to his neck and pulled a gold chain from under his furs. Syler was not surprised to see an eight sided star dangling from it because it was exactly like the ones that Growald and Vekla showed each other. This one, though, was the color of worn gold, though he didn't think it was made of the rare metal. When exposed to the light of the hovering fire in the center of the room, the pendant seemed to reflect far more light than it should have. Despite his fascination with the pendant, Syler's attention was distracted when Bronwyn stiffened and sat up straight when she saw the pendant. Syler wasn't sure what that meant, but he didn't think that Lord Saekoris or Vekla noticed because their eyes were on him. He returned his focus back on his host and tried to figure out what sort of metal the pendant was made of. "Ah," Lord Saekoris said knowingly, "this is not the first of the Ritdenmarq you have seen, is it?" "No, sir, it isn't," admitted Syler. "I saw Growald and Vekla each with one on the border." "But you do not know what it is." Syler shook his head, so the older man continued. "Long ago, before man counted Eras, the Lords of mighty Zazasp met on the top of Mount Khrazad that rose out of the Great Eascand Forest. Now, you would know the area as the Eascand Desert ever since the Desolation, but in those times, all of the North from the Subeleth to Angvard was one giant, united forest with its capital in the mighty city of Zazasp at the foot of Mount Khrazad. "In those times, during what is called the First Era the Kingdom of Zazasp dominated the North for near nine hundred years. They built the largest, most impressive monuments imaginable and discovered much of what we now know of magic. They were feared around Teladia and were considered without equal for their time. "But with those achievements came great fultac, or pride. Those lords, unmatched among all mortals, decided that it was their right to commune with the Immortals as equals. On the top of Mount Khrazad, the center of their power and kingdom, they commanded the magic of thousands of wizards and sorcerers and tens of thousands of mages to open a gateway between our two realms so that they could march their vast armies in and confront the Immortals." Lord Saekoris lowered his eyes and sighed. One hand went up to cradle his head as it sank down in sadness. "The foolish mortals had no comprehension of the power of the Immortals, or of their wrath. Rather than recognizing the Zazaspi as equals, the Immortals struck them down without mercy. An army said to be greater than any ever before assembled crushed in minutes by fire and monsters from their realm the likes of which we see only in nightmares. Zazasp itself was soon to follow in destruction, but the Immortals were not satisfied. They wanted to make sure that Mortals never again dared challenge their power. "They set out from Mount Khrazad intent on destroying our realm and for a time, they did. After a few days, some of the Immortals took pity on the mortals they were slaughtering and repented of their desire to destroy all of mankind. There was a great disagreement between them and the ones that wanted to continue their path of war and fighting between the Immortals broke out. "In the end, neither side was able to gain victory, so they came to terms. The Immortals would depart our realm and the portals between realms would be closed. Those Immortals who wished to see man's destruction agreed to stay out of the Mortal Realm and allow mankind to be, but only for a time. After an unknown amount of time, the portals would open once more and they would never again close. The benevolent Immortals did not have a choice because they knew that if their war were to continue within our realm, it would destroy mortals regardless to who won. Therefore, they agreed to the truce whereby mankind was given a reprieve from the wrath of the other malevolent Immortals. During the reprieve, neither side would directly interfere in the affairs of the mortals. The malevolent ones did not wish their rivals to build us up and arm mortals with powerful magics known only by their kind and the benevolent ones did not wish their enemies to visit calamity and death upon mortals. When the agreement was made, both sides withdrew through the portal built on Mount Khrazad and sealed it up. "Despite the pledge of noninterference, both sides do sometimes make their presence known. Prophecy is one of the most common ways by which the Immortals attempt to guide mortals. They can, on occasion, give mortals visions or even directly influence their fate. Though we are not entirely sure, I believe that both sides work against each other through mortals themselves. "From the end of the First Era to the present, mortals have worshiped the Immortals in one form or another. Some worship the Spirits, others the Elements or the Tetrarchy. As the Immortals were divided in their realm, so were they divided here in ours. Each wanted their own followers for whatever reasons they alone know. It might be curiosity, it might be out of sheer spite, but whatever the reason, they often use their mortal followers as pawns to bring each other low. "Our entire existence may very well be nothing more than one brutal game for the Immortals. Both sides are posturing and preparing for that fateful day when the portals between realms are opened and they can continue their war against each other. I do not know why this is so or what they gain out of it, but as our people say, 'neith fos, fos.' What is, is." "As I mentioned before, various cultures have names for this day. The one you are probably most familiar with is the Coming Darkness which is espoused by those who follow the Way. We Krue call it Fultak'os Valderotes, Pride's Reckoning, for we know the source of mankind's doom is our own pride." After those words, Lord Saekoris reached to the side of his throne and found a jug of mead to wet his mouth. "Forgive me, Majiyae Oretezu. Speaking in your tongue is difficult and draining." Syler let him drink until he was satisfied and set the jug back down beside his throne before asking, "How do you know all of this? I have heard nothing like this ever before." A sly look entered the lord's eyes and he gave a lopsided smile that showed only the teeth on one side of his mouth. "I know this because Subeleth is what was once the Zazaspi Western territories, just as the Angrava Forest is in what was the Eastern territories. Unlike the Haresu, we did not abandon our Zazaspi heritage or wisdom." Syler didn't know what to think about that. It made sense, but it was still so odd to him that he had never heard of this before. There were always legends that flowed from all over and crossed borders and rivalries, but he had never even heard anything close to this before. Having lived with someone like Havert who loved old stories, it would have been impossible to avoid something like this if it was out and available. Then again, with how insular the Krue were, it almost made sense. They weren't exactly known for being open in, well, anything. They didn't even speak the Common Tongue that almost everyone knew and used. "With great pardons, Ley Saekoris," said Bronwyn meekly with her head bowed in deference. "I humbly request permission to present a question to yourself." Syler furrowed his brows in confusion at the formality of her request, but Lord Saekoris didn't miss a beat. "Have no fear before me, Bronwyn Penion of Kutiim, for I have granted you dolothmorin along side your honored husband while you were under the influence of the pusdostil curse. Bronwyn visibly relaxed to the point of elbowing her husband. "Why didn't you tell me he granted sanctuary?" While rubbing the sore spot under his ribs, Syler responded ruefully, "Because with all that happened, I didn't think to bring it up. I have been a little busy." "What was your question, honored Bronwyn Penion of Kutiim?" Lord Saekoris asked. She sat up straight in chagrin and said quietly, "What does your tale of Immortals and man have to do with the pendant that you wear and that my husband deems to be so important?" "Ah," the lord said as he sat back in his throne. His cheeks grew slightly pink and he looked over at Vekla. "You should have stopped me before I rambled too long." The sorceress bowed her head and replied, "It is not my place to correct bwet lay. If he feels that his words are needed, who am I to question his wisdom?" "Indeed true, but you should not have me waste the Majiyae Oretezu's time." "I don't find knowledge of the past to be a waste," replied Syler with as much respect as he could muster. "I am greatly appreciative of your wisdom in opening my eyes to new things." After more of his wheeze like laughter, Lord Saekoris finally said, "You are kind to an old man, but your wife is correct. I have gone off subject and need to answer your question." With a pointed look at Bronwyn, he started his stories once more. "After the Great Desolation, the Zazaspi survivors banded together and tried to survive in their old lands even though they were decimated and nothing could live there. They quickly ran out of food, and were forced west to Subeleth and the sacred woods that stand to this day. Even then, the devastation of the Immortal's onslaught was tremendous and food was scarce, so there was great famine and suffering. "Worse, though, was the fear of not knowing what happened and why the Immortals had stopped their attack. Most were convinced that the end was still coming and that there was no hope of survival. There is nothing more devastating than a complete lack of hope because it destroys the spirit and causes a man to give up." Syler didn't argue with that for his own recent experiences were still painful to think of. He had experienced despair and a complete lack of hope and it had nearly driven him to complete destruction. He shuddered at the very thought of plunging a knife into Bronwyn's heart and losing her forever. "Unable to bear watching the continuing suffering that the mortals were experiencing as direct result of their actions," Lord Saekoris continued, "those benevolent Immortals who saved mankind took a great risk in sending one of their own in human form to those survivors. This man, Ritden, came to the leaders of the survivors and told them many things. "He told them some of what had happened and why the Immortals had stopped their war. He warned them of the Fultak'os Valderotes and how mortals had not escaped punishment for their pride, but would have to one day face the wrath of the Immortals. Further, and most importantly, he promised a savior, one to give mortals a chance of survival when that dark day befell them." He stopped to point a finger at Syler. "That chance is you, Syler Penion of Sandrin. You are the Majiyae Oretezu, the Master of Magic, and of the fate of mortals." Syler gulped. He didn't necessarily want such responsibility, but it didn't appear as though he had a choice. The deal he had made with Crusos stated that, in exchange for Bronwyn's life and the Element's staying out of the affairs of himself and his friends, he would accept the future they had in mind for him. It was a deal he didn't think he could get out of without terribly consequences. Lord Saekoris continued, "As proof of what he said, Ritden used his powers to craft several marqi, or pendants in the shape of power and promised they would be tokens of guidance for that One. He made them of different colors and purposes and said that their bearers would play their part in the journey of the One. He gave one to the Zazaspi survivors before leaving them with promises that the right people would receive the others." The golden pendant gleamed in Lord Saekoris' hand as he lifted it forward so Syler could see it more closely. "This is the pendant given to the Zazaspi survivors. It is the Ritdenmarq of confirmation, just as I am the Ulaen Fequilbat, the Confirmer. Those who first received this did not know what it meant for it was not until after Ritden left that prophecy began to be given to mankind. Since it was too risky to send further ambassadors, the benevolent Immortals instead sent messages to those who were most sensitive to their Realm. Those messages became known as prophecy since they told of what would happen and offered help to mortals when they needed such. "Through careful research, we have discovered what most of the Ritdenmarq are meant for and who they denote. Their purpose is to serve as verification to the One and his allies of the identity of the individual bearing them, as well as a token for direction. We do not entirely understand what their full purpose is as they require your presence and touch to fully activate them, and we suspect that they are meant to be used in conjunction with each other. "Prophecy has clearly that several key individuals will be present to help or to hinder you along your journey. Each of them should have a Ritdenmarq of their own passed down for generations. Among the Krue Loremasters, those individuals are known as Torelatat which is a combination of the Kruish words torleias which means 'friend' and latat which means 'help.' Each of these Torelatat are meant to serve a specific purpose in your life. I am the Torelatat known as the Ulaen Fequilbat, the Confirmer. It is my purpose to confirm who you are so that the world may know your presence." He gestured at Vekla and said, "Vekla is a powerful sorceress, one of the best we have. It is her purpose to serve as the Rabstaq which means the Guide. For generations untold, the Krue have protected and trained the Guide. It is normally a hereditary title passed down through the firstborn females of the first sorceress to have received the red Ritdenmarq, but it can be bestowed upon another woman if there are no suitable heirs available. Vekla's ancestors have been sorceresses for twelve generations and all have been the Rebastaq. "It is the purpose of the Rebastaq to learn of both magic and of the prophecies regarding the Majiyae Oretezu, the Magic Master. She will be your guide, your helper, and your source of advice on anything relating to magic during your journey. She knows as much about magic as any could be expected to know, and will be an invaluable source of information for you. Not only does she possess knowledge and an understanding of the arcane, but as you saw, she is a sorceress who is more than capable of holding her own in battle. "There are more Torelatat who will contribute to your journey. Vekla tells me that you have found ka Bolteros, the Guardian, already. She says he is this Growald of the Seinari you were riding with." Syler let out a snort of derision. "I have difficulty believing that. He is nothing but a pain in the ass and an almost intolerable brute." Lord Saekoris sighed and said, "It is not a warrior's place to be kind and gentle. Whether you know it or not, his purpose was to keep you safe until you could be delivered unto me for Confirmation. After that point, he is to serve you as your bodyguard and protector until either you or he goes to be with your ancestors." "I don't think I could stomach him as a bodyguard any more than he could stomach serving me," Syler warned. "What you think is irrelevant," chided Lord Saekoris. "If he is indeed your Guardian, he will protect your life at all costs. You will accept his services because you will need him." Syler scoffed and said, "We will see. It is more likely that we will try to kill each other." "Regardless, if he bears the Ritdenmarq and it responds to his touch as Vekla says it does, he has his part to play and will play it." "Are there any others?" With a firm nod, Lord Saekoris replied, "Yes, there are." He stopped at that point and said nothing. Syler waited patiently for ten seconds thinking that perhaps the man was needing another break, but all he did was stare back at him. At last, he could stand it no longer and asked, "Well, who are they?" Lord Saekoris lifted one finger and waggled it, "That is not for you to know at this point. To tell the truth, I am not even sure I know them all, but I know a few. They will be revealed to you when the time is right and no sooner." "How am I to know who they are?" "You may not. You traveled with Growald of the Seinari for a time before finding he was the Bolteros. Each Torelatat has their own purpose and role to play. It is not for me to dictate what that role is or how they should go about it. Even giving you knowledge that they exist could alter your decisions and pose great danger for both you and them." He lifted his whole hand to forestall Syler's rising protest. "I will only say that I do not know the specific identities of any of the Torelatat beyond those of Vekla and Growald of the Seinari, and he was only now made known to me." Clearly the Kruish lord wasn't going to be of any more help. "That is just great, but I must ask, what am I do to?" asked Syler with frustration straining his voice. "I have heard much lately about how important I am or whatever, but I still do not know what makes me so important or what I am supposed to do." "You are the Majiyae Oretezu, the Master of Magic. In all of time, there has never been one like you born of all the mothers of man. It is not entirely known what sort of powers you will wield, but it is known that the future hinges upon your actions. There is a war that will soon be waged both here and in the Immortal Realm. The portals between our realms will soon be open and the world as we know it will end. You will be the one who determines whether that end will be a good thing or the extinction of mortals forever. "It is not entirely clear what your part in this war will be. Prophecy is mute on that subject, probably intentionally so for reasons that are too complex for me to go into. It says plenty about how important your journey will be and how decisive you are, but little on the particulars of what exactly that journey entails. I have always believed that when the time comes, you will know what to do." Syler gave him a blank stare. "So I am supposed to be some powerful and extremely critical person, but nobody has any idea what I am supposed to do or how I am to do it. This is not much of a help." "I know it isn't, but it is all that I can give you. In time, you will know what to do." Syler stood up and said, "What suggestions might you have? I have no idea what to do now other than to rest and wait for my friends to arrive." "You must first be formally Confirmed. I am the Confirmer and believe that you are indeed the Majiyae Oretezu, but there are rites that must be conducted to be completely sure that you are who we have been waiting for and not a very clever pretender." "What does that involve?" asked Syler warily. "Magic, for one," replied Lord Saekoris. "It will take me some time to prepare myself for the ritual, but you also must be prepared. We will conduct the Confirmation tomorrow at dusk." "What are we to do until then?" asked Syler. "You will be taken to my house to rest and cleanse yourselves after your long journey. Your companions should be arriving tomorrow, and they are welcome to partake in the amenities of Clan Thwrud. Vekla will take you to my house where my servants will tend to your needs." The thought of taking a bath and washing off weeks worth of dirt off of him was quite appealing right now, almost as appealing as having a nice, warm bed to sleep in. Syler looked down at Bronwyn who was still sitting and saw that she was deep in thought about something. When she took his offered hand, it was trembling slightly. He figured it was due to the lack of proper food and activity over the last month and made a promise to himself to make sure she ate plenty of good food while they were here to regain her strength. She would need all the strength she could get for the journey to Sua in search of his sister.

Yea, it is a separate paragraph, I just missed adding the blank line when posting it here. That is one of the biggest time consumers when posting here because there are no blank lines between paragraphs in the master document since it tabs the first line of each paragraph. As for the extra material, it wasn't a whole new section, but things woven in. I expanded descriptions of the characters, added to their conversation and to the explanations of things. The conversation between Syler and the Elements was more than doubled. The very line you quoted was added in, too, as was the small part where Syler wondered if he was in the afterlife. As for backstory on the Elements and other Immortals, I can't get ahead of myself. I don't want to show all of my cards just yet, it is too soon in the story for that. There will be considerable amounts of time spent in the Immortal Realm in the last trilogy, but there will be hints back and forth before then. I know, it will likely be years and years before I get there (if ever), but I can't spill all the beans on how their universe works this early in the game.

Yes, umm, yea, typos. That is what they are, typos. This next chapter has become one of my favorite so far. This is the part when our hero gets his first taste of the Immortal Realm (that he can remember). Originally, this entire chapter was about 3500 words and was lumped together with some of the previous one. In the editing, I separated a few chapters and moved some things around. I felt that this needed its own chapter so I could put a little more into it. It finished with something like 7400 words and I am quite proud of what I added and changed. I greatly expanded the journey into the Immortal Realm and the descriptions and interactions with the three Elements he encounters. Hardly an original paragraph was not enhanced or altered somehow to fit the flow of things and I think it makes this pivotal point in Syler's journey far easier to understand and more real. Let me know what you think, because I may just be tickling myself here for no good reason. _____________ Chapter 23 Is the Mortal Realm all that there is? No, of course not. When the gods wanted to create us mortals, the only way to do so was to imbue us with a piece of themselves. That piece became our immortal soul and that, like the gods themselves, endures for all eternity. But where does that soul go after our deaths? It goes to a plane within the Immortal Realm where the gods themselves either watch over and protect or ignore and abandon us. — Archpriest Gallenicas of Salervurg He was back home. It was not Bronwyn's house in Kubei nor was it Fitno's house, but home. It was the house he had grown up in, the house his parents had owned until they died. He was back in Sandrin, back when things were peaceful and happy. Syler could sense it all, every detail, and his soul savored every moment. He remembered the smells of his mother's cooking, the bubbling of the boiling pots full of potions his father was making, and the sound of his sister laughing with one of her friends while they were patching clothes and blankets. This was some sort of dream, a wonderful dream. He didn't know how it could be so real and he didn't care. His waking life faded into nothing until it was a dream itself and he didn't care for it anymore. To be here, with all his happiest memories, was paradise. He could sense the contentment permeating his body and refreshing him. It was a breath of fresh air after so many months of hardship. He was in their back yard where Mother kept a small garden for vegetables and Father grew some the herbs he used more commonly in his trade. He saw their neighbor's chicken pecking away at invisible seeds somewhere in the black soil his father had specially brought in from around Lake Mastar to aid in the growing of the more sensitive herbs. It had cost a small fortune, but it had paid off when he was able to grow things that were near impossible in Sandrin. The old green back door that led into their kitchen was just in front of him, but he was afraid to go inside. After long moments of indecision, he finally took the steps needed to take him to the threshold of his house. He opened the door and his heart skipped a beat when he saw his mother there in the kitchen. She was just like he remembered her to be with a warm smile and laugh lines around the corners of her brown eyes. The straight hair the color of her eyes that ran down to the middle of her back had sky blue ribbons through it. As she often did, she was humming a soft tune as she peeled potatoes in preparation for supper. On impulse, Syler cried "Mother!" and ran toward her. When he reached her and tried to give her a hug, his arms passed right through her body and he nearly fell into the cooking pot. Stunned, he whirled around and saw to his dismay that she had continued on cutting potatoes as though nothing had happened. "Mother! It's me, Syler," he pleaded as a lump began to form in his throat. Marien didn't miss a tune in her melody as she kept slicing the skins off potatoes. Syler tried in vain to get some reaction out of her, but nothing worked. In shock, he walked out of the kitchen and into the room where he had heard a girl talking. When a second voiced responded, he froze in place. He knew that voice, though it sounded much higher than he was used to. He rushed into their common room but came to an abrupt halt when he saw who was inside. It was Karusa, yet it wasn't. His sister was so young, barely into early womanhood. She was having a hushed conversation with one of her friends, Aelis, if he could remember right. "Karusa," Syler said, though he didn't dare hope that she would respond after what happened with his mother. His sister said nothing, but continued to gossip about some local girl caught kissing a boy. He was now numb as he tried to find his father in his small shop. Tarneis Penion was there, as always, brewing some sort of potion while tending to the store. He wore a long leather apron to protect him from the sometimes toxic potions he worked with. Some of them, Syler knew, could melt through flesh if it came in contact with it. The apron wouldn't serve as a shield, but it would serve to slow down the progress of the potions and give his father enough time to take it off and escape harm. The workshop was cluttered and seemingly disorganized, but Syler remember where each herb, spice, poultice, or potion was stored. Despite appearances, his father was meticulously organized. Syler walked right up to him and tried to put his hand on his father's shoulder, but, like his mother, it passed right through. His father didn't even notice him. By this time, he wasn't hurt, but was simply growing numb inside. "Father, I'm back," a voice, more familiar than any other yet strange to his ear, called from behind him. The numbness began to erupt into devastation when he placed the voice. Though he feared what he would see, Syler couldn't help but turn around to behold a younger version of himself entering through the door carrying a bag full of roots, berries, leaves, and stems. His father looked over at the younger Syler and smiled. "Excellent, Syler," he said in his warm and encouraging voice. "Come here and let me see what you found." The boy Syler did so and was eager to show his father what treasures he had found as though nothing else in the world mattered but pleasing his father. The sight of it broke the adult Syler's heart and brought forth anger at the cruelty that was being enforced upon him. These years were a good time in Syler's life, a time when he was whole and happy. He didn't have to worry about feeding himself or his sister. He didn't have to work from before the sun rose until after it set. He didn't have to watch out for Angvardi or Shalktra or Growald or anyone else. It was peaceful and as close to perfection as he could ever recall. But it was a lie. He fled the shop and started up toward the stairs that led to the small loft that was his and Karusa's room. He ignored his giggling sister in the common room and his mother making dinner in the kitchen. He didn't think he could handle seeing them any longer while knowing they wouldn't be able to see him. He couldn't bear the thought of being so close to his mother and not being able to lose himself in her protective arms. This wasn't a happy dream at all, but a nightmare. Even though his heart longed to return to those simpler times, he knew that those days were gone forever. His parents were dead and his sister missing and in the hands of some Sua brute. He was on the run from the most powerful empires in Teladia and his wife whom he loved dearly was dying. His life was in shambles and hope had fled. He went back into his house and began to walk up the stairs and towards the room that had been his, hoping to get away from the painful images below. To see this was a reminder of what he had lost. It was an insult to his suffering and hardships, nothing more than a slap in the face. Seeing what he once had but could never have again was too much for him. He was too worn out from his ordeal over the last month that he couldn't just shrug this off. Whatever happened to him, it was a curse and he wanted out. He couldn't escape, so he had to endure. "Hello, Syler," a voice from above him said. Syler looked up and saw a woman in flowing white robes standing in the doorway to his own room. He had never seen her before, but he was immediately put on guard. Her chestnut colored hair long and silky and was more beautiful than any Syler had seen before. Its cut seemed natural and casual, but not a strand was out of place. Beneath her robe was unblemished, pale skin that showed no signs of working out in the sun or calluses from hard labor. He knew that if he were to touch it, it would feel as smooth as finely spun silk. Her face was purely radiant and nearly glowed even in the indirect sunlight they were in. Her radiant blue eyes were framed by long lashes and punctuated by flawless brows. Despite her beauty, there was something about her that made Syler think that all of what he saw of her was false, just like this house. She was a creature in another's flesh, but he didn't know what type of creature. Since she was the first to actually address him, he figured she knew what was going on and wanted to know what was happening to him. "Who are you?" he demanded. "I am Suella," the woman said with a smile. "You summoned me, and I have answered as I promised I would." Syler didn't know what she was talking about. "When did you promise that and when did I summon you?" Suella walked up to him and lifted her smooth hand to touch his cheek. When her fingers brushed his skin, his eyes were opened. He saw himself as a frightened boy lost in the hills before a storm. He saw fleeting glances of a woman in crimson and followed her to a cave he had never seen before. That much he remembered, but what he didn't recall until now was that woman coming back and sheltering him against the storm. She whispered comforting things to him, telling him how special he was, and encouraging him to stay strong. After the storm stopped and it was day, she promised that one day, when his need was great and when he was ready, he would see her again. Syler gasped, took a step back, and stumbled against the wall. He only barely managed to stay on his feet, but he had to lean against the wall to remain upright. "What, what is this place? Why did you do this to me?" "Syler, my dear Syler," she said in a soothing voice, "I did nothing to you. Your mind brought us here, not me. Deep down, you wanted to return here so when you summoned me, this is where we were taken. You yearn for this simpler time, but it cannot be." Wrinkles formed between her blue eyes as sadness perverted her beauty. Her voice dropped to a mournful whisper full of regret that seemed genuine. "I am so sorry, Syler." "You have been through much, and I fear you will be through much more before you are allowed to rest." There seemed to be genuine sadness in her voice. "I wept for you that night in the cave because I knew this day and many others worse than this would come. If I could have spared you the pain you have experienced and will suffer, I would. If only I could have taken it upon myself I would have, but that is not my burden to take." "Who are you?" She smiled, but there was little happiness in her eyes. "I am what you call an Element, Syler. I have always watched over you, Syler, even though you didn't realize it. Today, you summoned me in your time of need and so I came to you in a form that your mortal eyes could understand in a place your mind prepared." Syler was struck dumb. He couldn't do anything but gape at the woman and whisper words he couldn't finish. The only way for what she said to be true was for him to be dead. It was always said that when one died, their actions were weighed and judged by the Elements themselves. Those who were deemed worthy were allowed into Haviskor to dwell with other worthy ancestors. He was here and his parents were also, so then he must have died and this must be Haviskor. He had no idea how it happened, but if this was supposed to be his eternal resting ground, then he was going to be miserable. Unless this wasn't Haviskor. Those who died and were found unworthy were sent to Valkeem, Land of the Damned. It was said to be a place of unbearable pain and suffering as a way to balance out the evil that had the souls sent there had done in life. As he thought about it, Syler could see how this could be Valkeem. He was here where he wanted most to be, but he couldn't enjoy it even though it was right in front of him. He was condemned to watch the ghosts of his past, never to partake or belong again. It was an agony that he didn't know if he could endure. Did the Elements judge him unworthy because he failed to protect his sister and wife? Was it because he was an oathbreaker who, despite breaking his oath to stay loyal to the Elements themselves, was unworthy by virtue of what he was? Did the Elements find him unworthy in some other, unimagined way that left him destined for eternal damnation? He simply didn't know, and that was worse than anything. He sank to the ground and began to weep at his fate. As if sensing his thoughts, Suella placed her hand under his cheek and lifted his face up to look at her. "You are not in the afterlife, Syler. Your body yet draws breath and your heart beats on. As with all mortals, there will be a day when you die, but it is not this day." "Why?" Syler sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me?" "I told you: because you summoned me," she replied. "You have great need of me, and the Voice has placed great trust in you by allowing you access to the knowledge you possess. Your mind cannot fully comprehend what is stored there, but in times of great need, you can access portions of it. None can fathom the will of the Voice, but the Voice does things for a purpose." "What are you talking about?" She smiled gently, "When you were confirmed, Syler, in the Temple of Kubei. The darkness took you and the Voice conversed with you. The Voice has not spoken directly to a mortal in many ages." Syler didn't have a clue what she was talking about or what this Voice was, but he kept his mouth shut. He was growing tired of having all of his questions answered with responses that only left him feeling more ignorant. Besides, his head was hurting and he could barely keep his eyes open. As much as he wanted to know more, weariness was overtaking him. Suella knelt down next to him and cradled his head in her lap in a manner reminiscent of how she had that dark and stormy night when he was but a boy. "Rest, Syler. Your physical body is weak and your mind is spent. You must be careful when you unleash your fury because it leaves you drained. It will get better, but these first few times will be particularly difficult for you. Here, allow me to give you of my strength, it will allow you to recover." She brushed his forehead and closed her eyes. Strength flooded into him and it felt as though his entire body was on fire. Every hair on his body was sticking up and his senses were tingling from the energy flowing through him. Though his eyes were closed, he could feel a warm breeze on his arms and cheeks. On that wind was the smell of the pine forests that he had just been traveling through in Subeleth, though there was an underlying scent of prairie flowers teasing his senses. Within minutes, he was refreshed better than a full night's sleep and felt almost whole again. His eyes snapped open and he saw a different world altogether. They were no longer in his house, but in the forest he had been smelling. They were in a clearing that was perhaps a hundred yards in diameter with two crescent moons overhead. It was dark, but the area around them was lit by torches driven into bare earth. The trees were bigger and taller than anything he had ever seen. They were so tall, he could not see their tops before they faded into the midnight darkness. In front of him lay Bronwyn, clothed in white and laying on a mound of piled wood surrounded by torches. Her skin was no longer covered in wounds and her hair was as it had been before she was taken. She was laying out straight with her arms folded across her chest and her eyes closed in a peaceful sleep. It was the exact pose his mother was laid out in just before his father lit her pyre. That horrible memory, coupled with this scene brought tears to his eyes and he could not look at her any longer. He knew what this was and he rejected it. "You must save Bronwyn," he implored Suella. "If you truly are an Element, you have the power to heal her and give her back to me." "Her time is finished," a new, deep male voice said, interrupting any response Suella was preparing. A massive, dark skinned man dressed in plate armor of the purest gold and a majestic crimson cape billowing behind him stalked in from the darkness to stand next to them. A sword was strapped to his side, and a golden shield was on his back. His armor glistened in the torchlight and his massive muscles bulged when he crossed his arms across his chest. "She has fulfilled her part and shall join her ancestors among the Spirits of her people." "No," Syler said forcefully. With Suella's strength now flowing through him, he was no longer tired or broken, but was defiant despite himself. "No, it is not her time. You will spare her." The man looked at him with such fury that Syler wanted to do nothing but run. There was literal fire coming from the man's eyes and smoke from his nostrils as he drew his sword. In the man's hand, the sword glowed with holy light brighter than the sun and drove back the darkness of the night all around him. "Do not presume to command me, mortal." Had Syler been thinking rationally, he would have thrown himself to the ground in abject horror and begged this being's mercy. But he wasn't thinking rationally and his determination and love for the woman laying on the pyre in front of them overrode all other concerns. His mind was working furiously now that he was no longer exhausted and he began piecing together some of what he had learned in the last hour or so. If Lord Saekoris was correct, then he was someone of importance to the Immortals. Even judging from what he knew before coming to Thwrud, he should have figured that out before now. How many people are saved by an Element and apparently have one personally at his beck and call? Why would one of the Immortals care about what happened to him enough to appear genuinely saddened by the hardships he had suffered? Why would one of them share their strength with him? Not only that, but apparently this Voice persona felt him important enough to speak directly to, even if he didn't exactly remember what was said. Clearly, these Immortals had some sort of purpose for him. They had invested a great deal in insuring that he did exactly what prophecy dictated, so perhaps that was worth something to them. Maybe he wasn't entirely powerless despite his mortality. It was a gamble, but he didn't have much to lose at this point. He crossed his arms mirroring the warrior's and raised his chin. "I said no. If she dies, then I will turn my back on the Elements and curse their names. You will find in me an enemy the likes of which you will regret forever." The man let out a roar of anger and raised his sword. Syler stood his ground. He didn't care about his life now and was willing to risk it all in this gamble. There was nothing left to live for if the Elements were going to keep taking his sister and his wife from him. He had been pushed to his limit and wasn't going to back down. "Erastmus, you cannot," Suella warned as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "You know what he is." For a moment, Erastmus looked as though he was going to cleave Syler in two, but before the glowing sword fell, he stopped himself. With a snarl, he lowered his arm and shrugged Suella's hand off of him. He didn't sheathe his weapon, but stabbed it into the ground and rested both hands on its pummel while glaring at the mortal who dared defy him. "You do not command the Elements, mortal. Not now, not ever." Syler was elated at his victory. His gamble had paid off and there was some hope after all. It was now time to press his advantage and see if he couldn't come out of this ahead for once. "I have paid my dues, it is time for me to collect a reward for my years of service and the hardships I endured. Save my wife and allow me to find my sister safely." A new figure appeared. This man was dressed similar to Suella in white robes. Unlike her, though, these robes did not give him an air of tranquility and nobility, but reminded Syler of a funeral shroud. While Suella had light colored skin that spoke of lack of exposure to sunlight, this new arrival's skin was pale to the point of appearing translucent. His face was gaunt and angular with not an trace of friendliness or warmth to be found. His hair was long like Suella's but was stringy and oily looking. His hands were almost skeletal and Syler didn't want them ever touching him. When the newcomer spoke, his voice was as cold and unwelcoming as the rest of him. "What do you offer usss, Sssyler Penion? What do you offer that would make us buy her sssoul?" Syler was momentarily distracted by his strange speech pattern, but quickly recovered his wits and responded, "My service. I don't know exactly what you want me for, but Lord Saekoris said that I had some part to play, some part that makes me important not just to us 'mortals' but to you. Spare her and I shall offer my services. Take her, and I shall never assist the Elements again." "Syler, be careful," warned Suella. She glared at the newcomer and Syler was surprised at how quickly the warmth and caring that seemed to surround her earlier evaporated in this being's presence. "Crusos is not to be trusted." Ignoring Suella, Crusos responded, "That isss hardly sssufficient payment. What else do you have to offer?" "Not so fast," Syler replied. "I don't have to do anything with my life. I can go live in a hut in the middle of nowhere and stay out of whatever you need me to do. Deny me this and I will do exactly that." Crusos offered a sly smile, "If that isss what you wish to decide, then another will be brought up in your place. Do not think you are not expendable. All mortalsss can be replaced." Crusos had played the card that Syler feared the most. If he was correct, then all of his posturing was for nothing and all was truly lost. There was nothing to do now except to bet his last copper and hope that Erastmus' hesitation was a sign in his favor. Syler's jaw jutted out a bit as he responded, "I don't believe you." "I do not care what you believe, mortal," snapped Crusos. If that was how things were, then it was time to make his move and see where it got him. "Okay, then, have it your way," Syler said. He turned to Suella, "Take me back to my realm." She looked confused and, in a very human reaction, blinked her flawless lashes several times. "You would simply let her die?" Syler shrugged, "I can do nothing to stop it, as the burly man said. It is her time." "And you are going to give up?" Feigning nonchalance, Syler shrugged and hoped the Elements understood enough of human body language to catch what he was trying to portray. "I don't see what I can do here. Clearly, you all are set on the idea that Bronwyn must die and I cannot persuade you otherwise. If she cannot be saved, then I must do the only thing left to me." "And what isss that?" Crusos said with a bemused chuckle. Syler gave him a glare and said, "When Bronwyn breathes her last, I will ask Vekla or one of the other Kutii to kill me. Should they refuse, then I am sure Growald would love to settle our score once and for all. If I cannot be with her in the realm of mortals, then our souls will be reunited in the afterlife. Perhaps Bronwyn's Spirits will be willing to accept someone who loves one of their own into their company since I have no intention of spending eternity with the likes of you." "You wouldn't dare!" There was no smile on Crusos' face now. His pale grey eyes were wide with surprise and panic. Even Suella looked stricken with shock and apprehension and began taking steps toward him. She stopped suddenly before reaching him and cocked her head slightly to the side. Her eyes widened, but not with surprise. Instead, her eyes conveyed a new respect and understanding for the one she beheld. Her lips rose slightly at the edges and she looked almost proud, though she was clearly straining not to show it. Erastmus was too disciplined to openly exhibit his surprise, but he gave Syler a raptor like gaze that reminded him of a fighter sizing up his opponent before a fight. The warrior remained where he was without speaking. After a few moments, he turned his attention to Crusos who still seemed to have gotten over his shock and was growing angry. Taking encouragement from the reactions of the three Elements, Syler pressed onward. "Oh, yes I would. I told you, I told all of you, I am done with this one sided devotion. I have given all I can and can give no more. If you want me to keep going, then the Elements will have to give me what I want so I can have a reason to keep fighting for life. It is as simple as that." "What about your sssister?" snapped Crusos. Syler gave a full bodied shrug and allowed his hands to flop at his side. "It is clear that the Elements have their own plans for me and I don't believe finding my sister is within those plans. If I meekly bow to your will, I will lose not only my wife, but I will never see Karusa again. Therefore, I have nothing to look forward to but a life of suffering, loneliness, and slavery to the will of the Elements. I would rather die than live like that, so I think I will." Crusos gaped at him and kept opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it. "You are mad!" he cried out after apparently not being able to think of anything more. Erastmus surprised Syler by roaring in a great, booming laughter that he could feel in his own chest. "What is it, Crusos, caught in your own webs? The mortal may be insolent, but he has great courage and wits enough to outmaneuver the great Lord of the Dead. Clearly we have chosen our mortal champion wisely." The look that Crusos gave Erastmus was the complete opposite of the fiery one that the warrior turned against Syler earlier. Instead of fire, darkness and cold seemed to cloak the Element and threaten wrath upon his dark skinned foe. Erastmus didn't seem too concerned, for the light of his own sword served as ample protection against the fury of his rival. Seeing how torn and furious Crusos was, Syler decided to up the ante in their game. "The Elements will spare Bronwyn's life and I will be allowed to find my sister without any interference from you Immortals. My friends will remain similarly unharmed and unmolested. Do this and I will accept the destiny the Elements have set out for me to the best of my ability. That is my offer, take it now or I will be gone forever and you can find another pawn to play with." He waited for a few moments, then added, "So, what will it be, Crusos?" "That wasss not what you asked for," Crusos said as he pointed a bony, accusing finger at him. "You should have taken it when I made the first offer. You angered me, so now my price has gone up." This elicited a snort of bemusement from Erastmus and an open smile from Suella. Crusos was not amused in the least, but was in no position to retaliate against his three opponents. With a snarl of frustration, the pale Element said, "Very well, Sssyler Penion, you have your deal. What you demanded ssshall be done. Mark my wordsss, mortal, you will regret crossing me." With those words, he vanished as though he was nothing but smoke. As soon as he was gone, Syler let out a deep breath he had been holding in since making his daring offer. He had gambled that the Element was lying when he said others could replace him and it had paid off. Even more than a victory, he learned invaluable information. Whatever the Elements had in mind for him, it was important enough for one of them to watch over him, another to stay his wrath when provoked, and a third to allow himself to be humiliated and outwitted in front of rivals. He had a power that he didn't think he completely understood and it was enough to push ones as powerful as the Elements into a corner. That thought both excited and terrified him because he had no idea what they had in store for him. "You should not have angered him," Suella warned. The smile on her face had faded away and was replaced by the look of concern she showed him earlier. Despite being Immortal beings of unimaginable power, Syler thought they had a pretty good grasp on human behavior. It might have been simply a show for his sake, but he doubted that Crusos would playact his fury before a mere mortal. "He stood between me and my future. I wasn't going to let him lead me into a life of joyless servitude. That goes for all of you Elements. I may be willing to help you, but I am not your pawn nor am I your slave. If you want me to work for you, I expect things in return." Suella shook her head with alarm ruffling her smooth features. "You do not want to cross Crusos. He is clever and spiteful and he will not forget what you did here." "I do not care," replied Syler. "I am tired of standing by and letting things happen to me. It is time that I stand up and take charge of my life." "All of us have parts to play and masters to appease," she replied quietly. "You will have enough enemies in your life, you do not need to add more." "Without Bronwyn, my sister, and my friends, there is nothing worth living for." "And that is your weakness, mortal," Erastmus replied. "If you allow your worth to be defined by others, then you will be left as nothing when they are gone. You must find value and purpose within yourself before you can ever gain true worth." Syler considered what the warrior said, but wasn't entirely convinced. "I do not know if you Elements have mates or understand the concept of love, but that is something that is a part of us mortals. When you love someone, you are willing to do anything for them, and without them, you are not complete. It took nearly losing her for me to realize that I love Bronwyn and would die to protect her because, without her, a large part of me is gone." This gave the towering warrior pause. Suella responded for him, "We do know the concept of love, Syler, but not in the manner that mortals do. Still, I think I understand what you are saying." "Then you will know why I did what I did and why it is worth angering one as powerful as Crusos," replied Syler. Suella could only nod sadly at this. Erastmus walked over to Syler and gave him what might have passed for a gentle slap on the back for an Immortal of his size and stature, but was enough to knock the wind out of Syler even though he was far from a weakling himself. With a chuckle of camaraderie, Erastmus said in his booming voice, "In bringing that sniveling weasel down low, you have amused me, mortal. He and I have little favor for each other. For that, I will grant you a boon. You are not yet truly a warrior, but you shall be if you follow the path set before you. There will be a time when you need more than your own two arms to strike down your foes. Go to the summit of Mount Khrazad. There, among the ruins at its peak, I will guide you in making a weapon that will be feared throughout the mortal realms. With it, your journey will be much easier." Syler nodded, but didn't know what to say to the towering warrior other than, "Thank you." With a smile—a first for the warrior—Erastmus dissolved just as Crusos had leaving just him, Suella, and Bronwyn in the field. "What now?" Syler asked as he stared at the beautiful face of his wife. Suella closed her eyes for a time, then said, "Crusos has been true to his word. Bronwyn's life will be spared, but that is not the end of it. The Spirits will not have sold her life cheaply and he will make you pay for what it cost him. Further, there is something you must learn in order to truly save her." Syler's heart dropped. He had hoped it would be over with this, but nothing was ever easy for him. "What is that?" he asked cautiously. "The spell that is upon her will leave her crippled by pain without you. Eventually, it will drive her mad. You must reverse the spell upon her." "What? How do I do that?" She smiled, "It is within you already, Syler. You just need to learn how to access it. You have so many gifts available to you that you don't yet know. In time, you will learn them, but for now, you need only one." She reached out and touched him in the center of his chest. Once more, Syler felt power unlike any he had ever sensed flowing through his body. He felt stronger, more energized, and more alert than he could recall having ever felt. He felt like he could run faster than a hasuan and bend steel with his bare hands. It was intoxicating to say the least. "You will know what to do, Syler. My role in your journey is finished. Perhaps someday we will meet again. Goodbye, Syler Penion…" * * * * * Clan Thwrud Longhouse Thwrud Subeleth October 3 Syler woke with a start and a sudden, deep breath. He immediately began coughing as his lungs were filled with noxious smelling smoke. Instinctively, he pushed whatever it was that was making the smell out of his face and tried to get a breath of fresh air. "See, he be awake now," the healer said. Her wrinkled face was peering down at him with satisfaction. The next face he saw was the fiercely painted black and blue visage of Vekla looking at him with eyes full of concern. "What did you do?" she asked with awe in her voice. "What he did would be to faint," the healer snidely answered for him. Vekla gave her an icy glare causing her to back away in silence. Syler was grateful for that because the woman was still holding a burning bunch of some sort of weeds that absolutely reeked. Now that his senses were coming back, he found himself on the wooden floor of the large log cabin. Bronwyn, still battered and covered in the wounds she received at the hands of the Shalktra but blessingly alive, was lying on the bench next to him. "Tell us, what happened to you?" Vekla said. Syler sat up and shook his head to clear it, though it didn't help much. "I don't entirely know," he said honestly. "I have never felt such a thing," the sorceress said. "You gave off great power for the briefest of moments, then you collapsed. What spell did you use?" "What?" "We all heard you. You stood up and said something, then a great power rolled off of you. Only one using a powerful spell would be able to do that, so what was it." "How long was I out?" he asked. "Just a few minutes," the healer said as she doused the bundle burning in her hands in a small bucket of water. "I revived you quick enough." "I, I think that I was speaking to the Elements," Syler said. "It was like a dream, but it wasn't one." To his surprise, Vekla nodded in understanding. "Such a thing is done on occasion, but it is very difficult to connect with those from that realm. I have never seen it done as quickly as you did. It normally takes painstaking preparation and great skill. What did the Elements say?" "Huh?" Syler's mind was elsewhere for a few moments, thinking about what Sualla had told him. While he remembered some of what happened, there were some things that were a bit hazy. "Sorry, there were three of them, I think. We were talking about—Bronwyn!" he exclaimed suddenly remembering his wife. Pushing the sorceress out of his way, he scrambled up next to her and took hold of her hand to keep the curse at bay. He didn't know why, but he had hoped that she would wake up at his touch, but she remained asleep. He cursed Crusos for not upholding his end of the bargain and his anger began to return. Before it could take hold of him, he remembered something that Sualla had said. Something about reversing the spell and knowing what to do… He reached out and touched her forehead and closed his eyes. He felt something within him, something that was different. In his mind's eye, he saw Sualla touching him just before he woke up and remembered that she had done something to him. She said that she had made one of his gifts available to him and that he would know how to use it. He didn't know what to do, but he did feel a sense of pure wrongness within Bronwyn. He wasn't sure how, but somewhere deep within his gut, he knew what was happening to her on a level he hadn't even fathomed before. He opened his eyes and saw the marks made by magic glowing on her stomach. The symbols carved into her skin now gave off a sickly pale green glow and tendrils of the evil light were wrapped around Bronwyn's body. Guided by instinct, he reached out with his free hand and touched the symbols one by one in a seemingly random order. He didn't know how he knew what to touch, but he just did. As he touched each symbol, its glow faded and was replaced by smooth, unblemished skin and some of the tendrils vanished. When he touched the last mark, he felt a shiver creep down his spine. Somehow, he could feel the curse and its sheer vileness. It was connected to him, but also to Bronwyn. In disgust, he tried to rid it from them both through his own sheer willpower. As he did, Bronwyn began to glow in his eyes with a pure, sky blue light that covered her from head to toe. He felt the spell's potential to do harm and rejected it. In his mind, he reached out to grab the perverse elements of the curse and changed them to suit his purpose. The spell's nature was to inflict pain and suffering upon others, but he was in control of it now. Syler willed the spell away and the spell began to lose its grip. As it did so, it reversed its effects. Instead of harming and inflicting pain, the spell healed and restored its victim. By the time it vanished into nothingness, the spell had reversed what damage it had done and more. Despite the heinous curse being purged from her body, something that shouldn't be there remained. It took him a moment, but he remembered the tracer spell that had been placed on her. It had to go or they would never live in peace. He searched for it and finally found it buried deep in Bronwyn's essence. As he had done with the first curse, so he did with this one. Once he had found it, it was far easier to remove and banish than the other had. Perhaps this wasn't as powerful of a spell or maybe it was because he already had an idea of what to do. Either way, he didn't care. When he had the spell, under his control, he was able to reverse it just as he had with the curse. Instead of healing, he was able to use the spell to track down the ones who had cast it. In his mind, he saw images of a man in a robe of the same blood red colors the Shalktra wore casting a spell over Bronwyn and the other captive women. When he concentrated a little more, he was able to use the spell to see where the caster himself currently was: in a mass grave somewhere outside Kubei along with many of his comrades. Syler couldn't have been more pleased with that, but it was now time to emerge from his trance. Syler opened his eyes and would have collapsed had a strong hand not reached around his shoulders from behind and held him up. Sweat dripped off of his face and ran down his spine from his exertion. He dimly heard exclamations of shock, disbelief, and awe all around. But that wasn't what held his attention. At that moment, despite what was going on around him, only one thing held his focus—Bronwyn's vibrant green eyes full of vibrant life looking up into his own. Nothing in the entire world mattered at that moment. His surprise at what he had done was meaningless. The reactions of the others in the room were ignored. His exhaustion was irrelevant. Only Bronwyn mattered, and she was whole again. He didn't need to look at the rest of her to know that the grievous wounds that had been inflicted to her body were gone. The curse that had been upon her for the last month was gone forever and the tracer spell was severed. She was free from the harmful magic used upon her. She smiled at him and whispered, "I know what you did, Syler. I saw you walking among your Elements and heard your demands. You were braver than any I have ever seen before." Syler shrugged off the hand holding him up and cupped her face in both of his hands. "I promised I would protect you." "Yes, you did." Bronwyn reached up to pull him into a fierce kiss. For a short eternity, all the cares in the world were gone and all was right.

Yes, it is a different feel from the novel because I am testing out new writing styles. I want to throw this small piece out there since it is a sample of what I am going for. I went with a more casual, almost sardonic mood here, but I am not sure how it will play out. I want at least a second opinion before I continue further because if it fails miserably, I will need to change things. Instead of chapters, this will be divided into named sections of varying length. ______________ Assessment What sort of instructor would I be if I did not give you an assessment of the situation from which I found myself forced to work with? I daresay not a very good one. And, since I am widely considered to be a most excellent and wise scholar, I believe that at least a basic assessment is required. When I arrived in the Kingdom of the Sei by way of Castle Integle (which, ever since Lord Belgan the Large's unfortunate accident there two years ago, is now called Fat Man's Fall), I was forced to constantly adapt to the ever changing situation. General Agmas' lesser generals were quick and brutal in the execution of their tasks, so the battle lines were constantly changing. Normally, armies in these sorts of conflicts tend to move cautiously and slowly, preferring to secure and loot newly taken territories before the enemy came to displace them. This was usually a sound tactic as wars here rarely result in permanent transferring of land. However, as I have stated before, General Agmas was not your typical general. He was more ambitious and daring than any other Western general of our time. Instead of moving slowly, his armies were quick and brutal. They swept through the southern reaches of the Sei in less than three weeks, and that includes the week long series of battles for Asperi Sei. Instead of meeting up with a Seinari wing or two, I found that the Sei were almost completely routed and what few men they had left were too busy fleeing northward to offer any help. It through much difficulty and tribulation that I found myself stuck in the unremarkable little hovel of Praten which lie not too far from the scene of the massacre at Buteas Sei. I could tell you of the games I played with Koshi patrols on my way there, but any fourth year wizard could accomplish such things and the tale would probably bore you to tears. Oh by the Balance, the leadership I found while there! What a complete mess that was, and it was an utter shame. The doddering fool of a king, Mortuthan, had fled his capital and his duty leaving behind utter discord and chaos. With him went any semblance of an experienced officer corps that could be used to rally the routed and demoralized troops fleeing from the calamity of the south. I could find no commander above the rank of lieutenant, and the one I did finally find was completely unfit for the task before him. Onto the players in the story. First, of course, was me: Wizard Norquen Xaretines. At this time, I was still fairly young, but I had been in three campaigns before and learned to specialize in war magic. Some within the Coalition specialize in politics or assassination or even recruitment, but I found out fairly quickly that my gift truly lay in killing large numbers of men and getting others to help me do it. Sometimes, the situation simply calls for mass carnage and no other strategy will work. You already know where I came from and how I ended up in the Coalition, so I won't regale the tale. Needless to say, as it turned out I happened to be the perfect man for this job, and you will soon see why. Other than General Agmas, who only entered the scene at the end, I need to mention the Koshi general Toug. He was an old friend of Agmas who rose when he did and therefore found himself in command of Agmas' banners, or battalions with a little less than twenty-five hundred men under him. Normally, he would have had three thousand, but he was in the vanguard at the massacre on the Master River that crushed the Seinari reinforcements sent to free Buteas Sei so he lost some of his men. He was a competent man who was as ruthless as most generals can be. He drove his men hard and kept good discipline among the ranks, and that made my job all the more difficult. I wish it could be said that we had good leadership on our side. Lieutenant Gestar Hrotinas was a puerile, arrogant, and altogether plump old goat of a man who, by some excessively unfortunate string of events, somehow managed to land himself command of the Praten Company. It is probably due to his excessive incompetence that the Company was delayed in responding to their orders of conscription thus saving them from the horrible fate that awaited the Sei at Buteas Sei. Perhaps the Balance had some use for him after all, because for the life of me, I couldn't find any trace of use out of him. He was an entirely disagreeable, pompous fool who should have been strung up as the village idiot before being made their lieutenant. Fortunately, his second in command was a decently competent man. Sergeant Orthan Whelden was a good man who preferred to take care of his men rather than gain recognition. He was an experienced veteran who rose up through the ranks of the Seinari before growing older and deciding that a slightly quieter and less unstable life suited him better. While he was far from perfect and tended to be too cautious, I was glad to have in around. While not a single person per se, I would be remiss in my duties if I failed to give a brief overview of the Praten Company. They were, like most of the Sei's forces, conscripted peasants who ranged from stable hands to farmers with the occasional shopkeeper or shepherd thrown in just for good measure. They were mostly hard working folk who loved their land and were willing to fight to protect it. That didn't mean they were suicidal. Believe me, it took a lot of persuading to get them to stand up against General Toug's army when the time came for it, but they proved to be moderately competent in combat, despite their poor leadership. Perhaps a brief overview of the situation I found myself in would help. By the time I arrived in Praten, Agmas had secured Buteas Sei and was preparing to move on Kasas Sei. The company had mustered and was in arms, but the moron Gestar simply had no idea what to do. He had no orders due to their king's hasty flight, but he was not courageous enough to set out on his own. He and his four hundred men were encamped half a mile south of their town though many of his men spent the night in their own homes. They were milling about doing nothing important when I arrived, but more about that later. Agmas sent General Toug and his banner up along the Lower Master River to serve as a preliminary invasion force and to scout the area. While he was aggressive on the battlefield, Agmas was not foolish enough to risk his entire army moving through hostile land when he didn't know where his enemy was. Had he known the true extent of the Sei's military and command breakdown, he may have come north with all of his men and the world would be very different than it is today. Thanks be to the Balance because he did not therefore I only had to contend with Toug's twenty-five hundred men. The terrain in the area was fairly typical for southern Sei. There was a great deal of rolling hills with fairly minimal ground cover. It would be difficult to maneuver an army in the day with any degree of secrecy. That also meant that there were few materials suitable for the construction of barriers or even firetraps. Wizards can indeed create fire, but to get a truly awesome effect, we prefer to have something around us that can burn with ease. There were, to my relief, plenty of small canyons no more than ten or so feet deep scattered throughout the area. Most of these were caused by runoff during the spring and autumn storms that created small tributaries for the Master River. It was in the middle of the war season, so at least the days were long and the weather was warm. Agmas might have won his fame by launching a winter campaign, but he was not foolish enough to trust such a complex series of maneuvers to the benevolence of winter weather. That is good because I hate having to wake up every morning wondering if most of my men were unable to fight due to frostbite or even just freezing to death. Of course, the heat presented problems of its own, but whatever weather related problems we suffered, our enemy had it worse because they were in a strange land and farther from their supply lines. They could only get so far on foraging, especially with such a large army, but the Sei were right at home with plenty of food and knowledge of safe places to get water. Regarding weapons and armor, things weren't as bad as they could have been. The Koshi preferred to a type of locking scale armor by which they fastened the scales on all four sides instead of just the top like most. Over this, and occasionally weaved in with the lacing, were steel rings around an inch in diameter to offer further protection against slashing attacks. They rarely wore anything under this armor other than normal cloth, but they didn't need to because their armor proved to be quite resistant on the battlefield. The Koshi utilized the usual assortment of axes, swords, and spears that most Western armies field. The Sei, on the other hand, preferred hardened studded leather armor since it was easy and cheaper to produce. This region has an abundance of cattle, so there was a bountiful source of high quality leather to use. The more wealthy of them were willing to afford the occasional half scaled shirt or even a set of truncated mail. This offered them fairly durable protection, even if it didn't quite match what the Koshi professionals were wearing. Like the Koshi, the Sei used the standard array of weaponry and were surprisingly adept at wielding them, at least for conscripts. In summary, I found myself on that summer day faced with leading a scant four hundred untested boys and men against nearly six times that number of battle hardened warriors soldiers. The only thing I had in my favor was the fact that the enemy didn't know I was here and my men knew the terrain. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, though. As I said, my gift focuses on killing large numbers of men and that was something the poor Sei peasants sorely needed.

Fixed the typo. As for moving it up sooner, I didn't want to do that. It would interrupt the pacing a bit, plus, chronologically, it wouldn't make sense. News would take weeks to travel, even on a Pony Express like chain of horseback riders. After all, the City of Angvard is 1081 miles (1730 km) from Kubei as the crow flies and would probably be about 1300 or more miles along the roads they would have to use. Even allowing a day to summon all the nearby nobles, that would mean that the riders were moving pretty fast with the news. I already had one "interruption" to the Syler storyline with the chapter devoted to Prophet Aitin, I didn't want to throw in another without having a natural break. The travel time from the border of Subeleth to Thwrud was a good point for me to pull away. This chapter gets back to the Syler storyline and into one of my favorite parts. At long last, the readers get a glimpse at the real nature of the world and some of what Syler's place within it is. I expounded upon the explanation of the world that Lord Saekoris gave Syler. In truth, almost everything here was expanded. I don't remember the original, but I would speculate that a third of this chapter is completely new material and much of the rest is slightly tweaked. I fear that, especially for these crucial moments, that will become the norm as I have to fit it to the various changes I have made already. Oh well, it is fun and I am enjoying it. My writing passion is upon me once more and I hope to crank out more and more of these chapters quickly before it fades again. Oh, now that we are into the parts of the book with foreign languages in it, I will go back over my policy for italicizing them. In the master document, every instance of a foreign word is italicized. I tried that on Jnet in the original draft and found it extremely time consuming and annoying. Therefore, I will not italicize anything except complete sentences simply to save time and my sanity. And, once more, I would like to assure you that every single foreign word or title in this novel is not random jibberish, but is actually recorded and, where applicable, reused. I am up to 80 words (not including titles), and plan on adding significantly more and fleshing it out to a more workable language including all the basic conjugations and verbs along with the complete pronoun list and adverb/adjective endings (such as how -til is the standard Kruish version of the -ly ending). I have some of that already, but I want to codify it and make it make sense. ___________ Chapter 22 What can one man do by himself? Even the strongest of men would tire and falter against an army were he alone. Even the most eloquent and persuasive of speakers cannot be everywhere. Even the most determined of men cannot climb a tall wall without help. The One Who Masters Magic will not stand alone, but will have others with him to guide, protect, and help him in all that he must do. — Contemplations Upon Prophecies Concerning the Master of Magic by Sage De Thwrud Subeleth October 3 They rode like the wind. Syler was astonished at how powerful and endurable the hasuan was. Even in the forests, well away from open fields, the magnificent animal was able to travel at speeds that would put even the fastest racehorse to shame. At first, it was startling to see the huge branches and tree trunks zipping by as nothing more than green and brown blurs. He kept expecting to run into one of them and end up flying through the air and landing in a broken heap on the forest floor. As the hours went by, he got used to it and came to enjoy the wind in his face. Something he noticed fairly quickly was that riding on the back of a hasuan was far smoother than on horseback. If he couldn't feel the wind on his face and see the trees flying past, he would have thought he was on a horse moving at a leisurely walk. The back was a little wider than a horse which made it slightly uncomfortable for him, but as the hours wore on, he was getting used to it. Since there wasn't as much jostling around, he wasn't as sore or worn even after four hours of riding. The Krue warrior riding with them remained silent. Syler tried to strike up a conversation with him, but he said nothing in return. After a few attempts, he began to wonder if the warrior even spoke the Common Tongue. Since Bronwyn was still unconscious, he had nobody to talk to. On occasion, he could see other Kruish riders, but they didn't follow any formation or path that he could decipher and faded in and out of the organic tapestry that surrounded them. Last night, they broke camp in a small hollow that, judging by the fire pit and supply of wood and food, was a frequent resting place for the Krue. None of the Krue spoke to him, though one gave him some food and tossed him a knapsack with water and a thick blanket since his was left on his horse back at the edge of the forest. He tried to find Vekla, but she was nowhere to be seen and the other Krue were of no help. With nothing else to do, he tended to Bronwyn as best as he could before curling up next to her under the blanket and going to sleep. The next day started early and didn't let up for hours. He occasionally caught a flash of Vekla's armor and hair, but never for long. All of the Krue seemed to take their own paths through the forest. That such a tactic didn't end up in disaster was probably due to the rumored intelligence of the hasuan themselves. He didn't see the warrior in front of him doing much directing during their journey. He seemed to be mostly at ease if not outright enjoying the trip. At last, they entered a large clearing and slowed to a light trot. Syler could see a small city in front of them with thin wafts of smoke coming from hundreds of chimneys. Surrounding the city for at least a mile were fields of crops with a few outlying buildings that were probably storehouses or farmhouses. The other Krue seemed to materialize out of the forest next to them, though nobody said anything. Vekla rode up to the front of the group and led them into the city. Syler had never seen anything like this place, even when he went into See Sei. Unlike everywhere he had been, wood was the primary source of building materials. Having grown up in the prairies and hills of what the Easterners called the Near West, wood was not very plentiful so it was only sparingly used. There was wood to be had for crafting, fire, and making some support beams, but to build a structure entirely out of wood was a luxury that only the most wealthy of aristocrats could afford. Most of the buildings where he was from were made from clay bricks or stone which were plentiful. Here in the forest, wood was easy and readily available so it made sense for the Krue to build their cities out of it. As they went through the city, Syler was in awe of the giant log cabins. Some were made from whole logs stacked on top of each other. The rest, most noticeably the smaller structures, were made from wood planks that had been sawed and nailed up. In front of almost every structure was an ornately crafted totems that sometimes rose up to twenty feet into the air. They seemed to generally be a giant log that had been erected and hammered into the ground so they stood up almost like a branchless and leafless tree. Into that log were carved animals, people, what might have been words, and various scenes. Somehow, Syler was reminded of the stone panels of the Temple tower in Kubei, except these scenes were not scary or disturbing like those were. At some houses, there were stables custom fit to house hasuan. He didn't see any larger stables and wondered if that meant that each warrior kept their mount close to home. Some of the stables seemed to be extremely well stocked with various bedding and even stone ovens for heating. It struck him that the Krue probably took extremely good care of their hasuan, better than even royal horses were elsewhere. The people, though, were even more strange. Instead of wearing cloth like he did, they wore mostly leather and furs. Almost everyone openly carried a weapon, usually a long knife or small axe, even the children. The most disturbing thing about them was that each of them from the old to the young looked as fierce as the warriors who had escorted them in. As the warriors entered, they all looked up and called out names or greetings in their own tongue. It was a very friendly reception and Syler wondered how many of these warriors actually lived here or if this was how they greeted all arriving warriors. At last, they stopped in front of a particularly large log cabin and dismounted. The cabin was surrounded by dozens of carved posts like he had seen elsewhere. Giant torches burned outside even though it wasn't quite dark. The posts of the cabin were sanded down and polished with age and care that he hadn't seen in other structures. The double doors at the front were framed and studded in black iron with handles made in the likeness of hasuan heads, though none of the metal showed the signs of rust that most iron fixtures did. There were two guards with large war axes in hand guarding the door. Vekla gave a few commands to the guards at the door and one of them went inside. A few moments later, he came back carrying a canvas stretcher before returning to his post. Vekla motioned for Syler to get Bronwyn on the stretcher and two of her warriors took either end of it. All but the two warriors carrying the stretcher remained outside while she led Syler inside. The cabin appeared to consist of a single room thirty feet wide and twice that length long and some smaller rooms connected to it. To his shock, in the middle of the front of the room floated a fireball that provided light and heat. Below it was a small pit of bare earth, but otherwise it was completely in the open. It was a feat of magic that Syler had never seen firsthand before and it left him in awe. The rest of the cabin was devoted to two long tables with bench seats that stretched thirty feet. Several smaller fires between the two tables had various meats roasting on spits over them. The roof was rose to a sharp angle with the overlapping planks that made it up visible between the rafters and a covered hole for the smoke from the fires to escape. At the back of the room was a small throne slightly raised above the rest of the tables. In it sat an older man who was consulting with a few others who looked like warriors but, considering the standard of dress he had seen outside, could be anything from shopkeepers to blacksmiths like him. The man was in his late fifties or early sixties and had the look of a warrior about him. His skin was taunt around his body and didn't sag while his muscles were still visible and had not atrophied. Despite sitting here now, he was clearly a man of action who had not yet passed into obsolescence like many of his age. There were a few men and women sitting at the tables either eating or talking to each other. Some were dressed in open armor made of hardened tooled leather like what he had seen from the Kruish warriors that accompanied him here. They all seemed hardened and strong, even the women. Not one seemed overweight or underfed, but were healthy and hearty. Beyond the weaponry and strange firs that these men wore, something caught Syler's eye. All possessed flowing beards with some of them even braided or having leather thongs tying them. Then, as his focus returned to the man at the throne, something stuck out to him. The man there had no beard or facial hair at all. Syler quickly searched his memory and realized that none of the Krue he had encountered so far had been clean shaven, but all wore a beard of at least an inch or two long. He hadn't noticed it before because he was so used to being around unshaven men from among the Kutii and Growald's men didn't have the time to shave while racing towards Subeleth. His thoughts were refocused by a gentle but firm hand on the middle of his back guiding him forward. Once he started moving, Vekla took the lead and led them behind one of the long tables toward the rear of the building where the man on the throne was. When they were about fifteen feet from him, she bid him stop with an upraised hand. She then bowed her head reverently and waited to be acknowledged. The man sitting eyed Syler and Bronwyn for a few moments, then said something to her in their tongue. The two of them had a short conversation during which it seemed that Vekla was trying to convince him of something. After a couple of minutes of this, the man looked directly at Syler and said in the same thick accent that Vekla possessed, "Come, Syler Penion of Sandrin, let me gaze upon you." Though he didn't want to leave Bronwyn unattended, Syler knew better than to defy this man. He stepped forward and allowed the older man to grab his hand. The man looked first at his palm and read it as if he could see words written upon it. Occasionally, he would nod or mutter to himself as he ran his fingers over the various creases in Syler's palm. When he was satisfied, he looked straight into Syler's eyes and repeated the same hand gestures that Vekla had done after blasting him with a fireball. This man knew magic, Syler could see it in his eyes and the way they seemed to grow distant and glassy for a few moments as though he was seeing things that nobody else could. He wasn't exactly comfortable around wielders of magic slowly waving their hands an inch from his face, but he didn't dare say anything about it. "So," the man said contemplatively, "it is true. The Majiyae Oretezu walks among us at last." The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fires. Everyone in the room who hadn't already been curious about this stranger among them was now staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and reproach. "What does that mean, sir?" Syler asked, not really expecting to get a response. The man stared at him and said something briefly to Vekla. She nodded and he frowned. "You know nothing of your role?" Syler shook his head and decided to take a chance by being direct. "No, I don't. I am tired of people talking about me and I want some answers." The man made a wheezing noise that made Syler think the man was sick until he realized it was simply the sound of his bemused laughter. "Fortasi, patience, young one. There is time yet for you to learn. You are safe here and will be for as long as you need." In a louder voice clearly meant to be heard by all in the room, he said something in Kruish. The others in the room clasped their left hands to their chests and bowed their heads in response to whatever he said. "By my order, you are welcome here as an honored guest of the Clan of Thwrud. I am Avenil Saekoris, Lord of Clan Thwrud. You will stay in my house as my personal guest." Syler didn't speak for a few moments as he absorbed this. He wasn't familiar with the Krue's customs and wasn't sure exactly how to respond. Bronwyn took this opportunity to moan a little reminding him that he needed to touch her once more. He didn't want to offend Avenil, but he couldn't let his wife suffer. He bowed his head and took a few steps backward so he could reach down and take Bronwyn's hand. "I am honored, Lord Saekoris, but it would be impossible for me to accept your hospitality while my wife and friends back at your border are excluded." "Keezat yosere, well spoken, Syler Penion of Sandrin," said Lord Saekoris with a chuckle. "I respect a man who is loyal to his family and companions, even at the risk of angering a lord of the Krue by refusing his grace." He asked Vekla something in their language to which she replied. He looked back at Syler and said, "Very well, I extend my hospitality to those who came with you, provided none shall betray our generosity. Should any of them do so, it will be upon your head." He addressed those in the room and received the same response he had the first time. Suddenly, Syler wasn't so sure he had made such a good move since he had no idea what Growald would try, but what was done was done. He would just have to keep Growald and his men in check or leave them to the Krue. Ultimately, only himself, Bronwyn, Havert, Alltis, and Lamastus mattered. "Thank you, Lord Saekoris. Now, could you please tell me what is going on?" The lord smiled and motioned for him to sit down on the bench closest to his left hand. The men who were there saw this and quickly moved without hesitation so he had a place to sit. Once again, Syler was torn about how to navigate this situation. "Sir, I must be able to touch my wife. She has some sort of curse spell upon her and if I am not touching her for more than a few minutes, she will be wracked with pain so severe that it interrupts her even in unconsciousness." "What are you speaking of?" Lord Saekoris asked. "We were living in Kubei in Kutiim until recently," Syler hastily explained, though his attention was more on Bronwyn as she began to stir from the pain. "The Shalktra took her and tortured her for three days before I was able to get the help needed to break her and other women out. Once we escaped, we found that she had been cursed with a terrible spell that inflicts unmentionable pain on her." The Kruish lord nodded in understanding. There was disgust in his voice when he said, "I have heard of such things before. Such natsteur things are usually only used by ka pustostil. Frendan with your story, I know there is more." After a brief hesitation at the strange words, Syler responded, "I can temporarily remove the curse by touching her. Please, sir, allow me to do so now before the pain comes in force." This elicited a small chuckle. Lord Saekoris gestured with an uplifted hand saying, "Nobody is preventing you from moving about freely, Syler Penion of Sandrin. You are my guest, none shall inhibit your movement." Blinking a few times in surprise, Syler quickly went over to grab Bronwyn's hand. As expected, her fit subsided and she fell back into her usual deep slumber. The warriors holding the gurney remained silent, though they were watching him with curiosity. Lord Saekoris got up from his chair and walked over to them and began to inspect her condition for himself. He felt her forehead and asked a few questions of Vekla. Syler, figuring that it wouldn't hurt, slowly lifted up Bronwyn's shirt so he could see the symbols etched into her skin. When they were visible, he heard Lord Saekoris whisper, "Snalv fendulchi." It did not sound like he was offering a complement to whomever placed the curse. He stood up and sighed heavily. "A vile and insidious spell cast by one who went to considerable effort to place it upon her. Be cautious, Majiyae Oretezu, for many are your enemies and strong is their magic. Your devotion to her is admirable and will be honored. I will have healers brought here immediately to see if we cannot address her wounds." "Thank you, sir," Syler said with genuine gratitude. He issued several orders and someone went out to get the healers. Lord Saekoris sat down at the edge of the table and motioned for Syler to join him there. The two warriors laid Bronwyn's stretcher along the benches beside them so that Syler could still reach out and stroke her forehead even while sitting. Food and drink were set down in front of him and the Kruish lord motioned for him to eat. While he was digging into the sizzling meats and hearty vegetables offered to him, the Krue spoke to him in a slower, more measured pace that allowed him to speak every word precisely. Clearly, what he was saying was important enough that he wanted to make sure Syler understood every word. "It is time to allow you to see some of what role you will come to play in the world. Though it has yet to be confirmed, it is my belief that you are indeed the Majiyae Oretezu that has been spoken of for centuries. Let me explain some things for you since it seems you are almost entirely unaware. "Nearly every culture has tales of the world coming to an end," Lord Saekoris said. "Some of these tales come from oral traditions. They become part of the culture of that people and thus are integrated into its society. Nobody really knows where these tales come from because they are just there. We could speculate that they come from a lone prophet or witch from the ancient years, but we do not know for sure. It could be part of our mortal human nature to expect that, since we ourselves must die, so also must the world itself. "Some cultures simply accept these tales as nothing more than a myth designed to scare people or perhaps offer a good and fanciful tale. They consider these forecasts as nothing more than legends and mythology of no importance or truth. They scoff at the idea of something as old as the world itself simply dying out and concern themselves only with their lives, even when signs around them may point to a different fate. "Other cultures take their tales from a more studied approach. They collect prophecies, test the future, and extrapolate from those things what they believe will come. I cannot say that this method is always failsafe as prophecy can be distorted and testing the future has not always produced accurate results, but there is a great deal of material out there that supports this method because they feel it is educated and enlightened with evidence to support their beliefs. Any who do not believe them are looked down upon as being uneducated and ignorant to the truth they alone can see. "There are cultures that have taken a religious approach to the subject. They believe that their deities have decreed an end of everything but, at least with the benevolent ones, have provided a way for salvation for the faithful. The danger for them comes when they mix prophecy and their faith together and pour them into a mold that fits their religious beliefs. When they do that, they are able to interpret any prophecy the way they please and proclaim any who refuse to follow as heretics. "Then there are those peoples who understand that there are forces at play in this world that are beyond mere mortal men and that it is those forces that determine everything. Mankind has many great strengths, but we are not all powerful. Occasionally, someone or even a group of people get it into their heads that mankind is the supreme entity in the universe and that nothing can stand in their way. Those sorts of people usually end up suffering a violent end as they are squashed by various forces, some of which cannot entirely be explained. "The universe has a way of keeping man humble, and for most, they do not even see it. If someone builds a giant tower, they may believe themselves superior to all around them. Then, a storm comes and blows it down or it catches fire and burns to the ground and he is left ruined and humbled. It is no coincidence that so many of the greatest monuments of mankind's creation have been destroyed or lost to the ages. Every time man rises, something seems to bring them back down. "Conversely, there are times when the humble are raised up and made strong when all around them would have never expected it. How many times in history have disheartened, poor, peasants somehow managed to gain the courage to snatch victory against overwhelming odds and liberate themselves from tyranny? How many times, when all hope seems lost and evil is dominating, has a new beacon of light shown through the darkness to lead a nation to salvation? Have you ever been at such a low point in life that you would have thought nothing could make life worth living, yet you receive some sort of sign that gives you hope? It is almost as though something out there wishes to test us and, when the time is right and we can bear no more, relief is provided and fortunes are reversed. Something is preventing man from getting too low and losing all hope. "As mere mortals, we often attribute these unexplained changes in our fortunes or the fate of nations to supernatural and barely explained entities that defy nature and are greater than man could ever be. Some hate them, others fear them. Many worship them in the hope that they will escape punishment or receive boons from them. "You know of some of the supernatural beings that are worshiped by man. The Sei, Kosh, and Sua believe in and follow the will of the Elements, beings of balance and stability who give and take away to ensure harmony. The Kutii, Krue, and Gope believe in the Spirits, generally benevolent beings who care for those who love them, but are very jealous towards those who do not. In the south, there are those who worship the Stoics, beings who demand the utmost discipline and restraint in all their followers do. In the Deep West, the tribal peoples believe that the Grifters walk among the weak and prey upon their souls. The Easterners worship the Tetrarchy as part of their so called Way. "Most interestingly, and tying back to what I said earlier about balance, those who follow the Way believe that the universe must be kept in balance between good and evil, light and dark, purity and corruption. According to their lore, the world was once a perfect place with no evil or corruption. Their god, Featwel the Uniter, is said to possess the great Scales of Balance which require all things to be in harmony. Because of this, the perfection of the world was not sustainable forever and had to end because the scales were tipped too much toward the light and goodness. As the scales began to tip, evil entered the world and mortals—humanity—was created. At first, evil was minimal, but it has grown over the ages and is building up to a climax until, when the time has come, the Coming Darkness descends and the scales tip towards pure evil and the end of all that is good and pure. Those who follow the Way greatly fear this time and look to a savior to protect them and avert the disaster. "So tell me, Syler Penion of Sandrin, which of these things are correct? Who understands the universe correctly? Who worships the true gods and who sees the truth, or do any of them?" Syler wasn't sure exactly how to answer. He knew others believed in different things, but he had never really cared what they thought or who was right. He knew from personal experience that the Elements were real. That was why he had stayed true to them in the face of the Angvardi invasion and their forced conversions. All of this sounded pretty farfetched and slightly crazy. He had never been a philosopher, but preferred simple things that he could hold in his hands or see with his eyes. Somehow, though, he knew that would not be the answer that Lord Saekoris was looking for. This was a man who wanted the truth, so he would give it to him. "I don't know, sir," he said. "That is a good answer," Lord Saekoris said. "Never be afraid to admit ignorance among the Krue. Questions are never shunned among the People, neither is the truth. The only time you would ever be punished is for pretending to know that which you do not or willfully refusing to learn the truth." He leaned over toward Syler and gazed directly into his eyes. "I am here to tell you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, that they are all the truth. Those who worship the Spirits are just as right as those who worship the Way or the Elements. How can that be, you ask? Do they not contradict each other? I can see the doubt on your face as plain as day, but fear not, I will explain. "Mankind is not alone in this world. There are immortal beings who exist on a different plane from ours, but they are not all content to remain there. If man exists within the Mortal Realm, they exist within the Immortal Realm. These beings are of different types and qualities, many of which would seem impossibly powerful or strange to us. Like men, each have different goals and purposes, some of which are desirable from our perspective and others which are not. "Most are content to live in their own realm and are satisfied with their existence as it is. However, there are those who are not and who enjoy meddling in the affairs of the mortals. This can be for man's benefit, or it could be for man's detriment. They come and go between their realm and ours as they please and interfere with our realm to the extent as they are allowed. "Just as with men, these beings are not unified under one common purpose. They are divided into groups, kinds, and interests much like our kingdoms, races, and trades here. These beings tend to take interest in particular groups of people and interfere in their lives as they see fit. Some of them care for the mortals under their watch, others are apathetic or seek a balance. The worst as those who despise mortals and wish nothing but their destruction. "We are fortunate that there are those in that realm who value our presence and care for us. Those benevolent kingdoms in the Immortal Realm desire to see the lesser mortals live in relative peace and freedom and are willing to fight other immortals who do not share their values. They are constantly at war with those who wish our utter destruction. Battles the like of which we cannot imagine are waged in places we could not ever hope to see while trapped within our mortal coils. Both sides have fought each other to a stalemate that has lasted for thousands of years. Yes, on occasion, one side wins minor victories, but those never last for long when their opposition rallies and retakes what was lost. Neither side is truly stronger than the other, thus neither is able to completely dominate." Lord Saekoris let out a long sigh and the skin under his eyes sagged just a little. His head fell until his chin touched his collarbone and he remained that way for several long, silent seconds. When he raised his head back up, he looked older than he had been just minutes before. When he spoke, his voice was heavier than it had been and was full of regret. "Nothing stays in perfect balance forever, Syler Penion of Sandrin. Sooner or later, something will tip the scales and one side will grow stronger than the other. Once that change beings, once the scales start leaning towards one side, it is very hard to reverse course. The longer the scales are able to tip, the less likely it will ever be able to reverse course. It is much harder to stop a rolling boulder at the bottom of the hill than near the top." "What do I have to do with any of this?" Syler asked. "A good question, but one I sorely regret having to answer. It is my belief that you are indeed the Majiyae Oretezu spoken of in prophecy for thousands of years. Prophecy speaks of you as being central in the upcoming conflict that is soon to erupt over the entire world. For centuries, events have been leading up to this singular point where the battles that constantly rage in the Immortal Realm will at last spill fully into the Mortal Realm. "You hold great power, Syler Penion of Sandrin, more than any who has come before you. Those of the Immortal Realm have selected you for a task of the utmost importance, and they have been preparing the way for your arrival for hundreds of years. There is more, but it is not for me to tell." Avenil glanced expectantly over to where Vekla was standing watch over them. Before she could say anything, the healers he had sent for arrived. There were three of them. One, a skinny woman of middle age, seemed to be in charge. There was a young man and woman, both around Syler's age who carried various potions, cloth bags, and raw herbs for her. The older woman inspected Bronwyn's wounds and tutted in disappointment. She pulled out some salves and potions to test her patient and assess her wounds. Every so often, she muttered words in Kruish and had her assistants give her things. After several long minutes during which Syler waited in near breathless anxiety, she spoke. "Whoever been tending to her done her a disservice and made things worse than they should be." "We were forced to travel and avoid people with no opportunity to rest," Syler said indignantly. "I was not familiar with the lands we were in and couldn't find the right herbs. Even when I did, we didn't have time to let her rest properly for fear of our pursuit." "That be no excuse," the woman said accusingly. "This woman be nearly with the Spirits." It was no surprise to him. He knew she was in bad shape, and that her situation was not improving. "I know. She is also under a curse, I think that is affecting her ability to heal." He pointed out the marks on Bronwyn's stomach and said, "These are the marks we believe were involved in the curse." The healer gently probed the marks and clucked to herself in contemplation. "Magic be not my area of wisdom, healing be. What it does to people be beyond me, though I know a few tricks. How long be she this way?" Syler thought for a few moments. The days had flown by and he wasn't entirely sure, so he had to think. "I think it has been a little more than a month since we rescued her, but she was imprisoned and tortured for three days before that." The woman looked at him with wide eyes, "A month?" She gently turned Bronwyn's head to show her blackened cheek, "This be not a month old, but no more than a day old." Syler nodded sadly. "She has not healed at all since the curse was inflicted upon her. I am not so ignorant as to not notice that even her body's natural ability to heal has been blocked. None of my poultices or salves has worked, not a single one." The woman said something to the young male assistant and he scampered off to do her bidding. "This be worse than I thought, far worse. This be magic at work, no doubt, powerful magic indeeds." She glanced at Vekla and asked a question in Kruish. The warrior sorceress shook her head. The healer swallowed hard and said, "I must apologize to you for me earlier condemnation. You have done as much as any may do in this situation. Sadly, there be nothing I can do for her if she be under a spell that prevents even from healing naturally. If the Mistress Vekla, with all of her power, cannot reverse the spell, then she will die. I be most sorry, lad, but that be the truth of things." Both of their eyes fell upon the cold sorceress who was standing over them observing in silence. She crossed her arms and shrugged. "I told you once, I am not able to overcome this magic. It is beyond my skills." Syler's hopes began to fall once more. "So there is nothing you can do to help us?" he asked. She considered for a few moments, then said, "I can feel the touch of sorcery, though with a masculine scent. I believe it was a sorcerer who cast the spell, and it was no common spell. I have studied far and wide and know as much as any Kruish sorceress, but this is far beyond me. As it was made with sorcery, only one gifted in such magic could counter it. No wizard, despite their arrogance and claims of superior power, could do anything with this spell." "Do you know anyone who might have the power to stop this?" Lord Saekoris asked. "No, bwet lay," replied Vekla without hesitation. "I have considered this and studied the Kutii during our journey and while here. I have knowledge of all those who practice sorcery within our borders and none would know such a thing." Syler's fists balled up in frustration and his back was arched from the tension in his muscles. "Are you sure? Maybe one knows something that you do not." The sorceress' fiery brown eyes snapped to him like a hawk to a rabbit. With equal fury, she snapped, "Haelait jhatfa'it bwe, kalklat!" "Vekla!" said Lord Saekoris reproachfully. "Take care how you speak to a guest in my house." She bowed her head and said apologetically, "Fuswau, bwet lay." The fire in her eyes dimmed, but did not entirely go away. To Syler, she said, "There are few of us who can practice sorcery and we know each other's skills well. More so, I am no simple apprentice despite my age, but have mastered my craft more than many could ever do. Of all of my kind among the People, I am the most gifted and strongest, that is why I am ka Rebastaq mel ka Majiyae Oretezu, the Guide to the Master of Magic, and bear the pendant. It is in my blood and has been for generations. If I cannot accomplish what you seek, none here can. Only the caster himself could reverse the spell, and I do not believe he would do such a thing." Hearing her pronouncement felt like being kicked in the chest. All the air went out of Syler's lungs and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He staggered back and fell to his knees beside his wife while struggling to gasp in air. The world was blurry around him, though it may have been from the tears rapidly forming in his eyes. His hands were trembling when he reached out to gently brush her bruised and bloodied cheek. He had known that getting help for Bronwyn would be a long shot, but there had still been hope. The only two things keeping him going were that Bronwyn would get better and that he could find Karusa and go away to live in peace. Even when they were tired and in pain, he had driven their small group forward on the way to Sandrin. None of them had any reasons of their own to go there, they simply followed him as he led them ever onward. When they had been stopped at the seemingly impossible barrier at Fazei Crossing, it had destroyed him. There, in that dark place, he had seen no hope in saving his wife and had sunk so low that he had been willing to kill her to put her out of her misery. Only the unexpected interference of Growald had turned him from that path and given him a tiny sliver of hope that the Krue would know the magic that could save her even though every step they took north was one step farther from his sister. When it came down to it, he had to decide who needed him the most. It wasn't a difficult decision to make, but it was a hard one. Bronwyn, with the curse placed upon her and in the condition she was in, needed him far more than anyone he could imagine. To seek after Karusa would have meant sacrificing any hope of saving Bronwyn. He might have been willing to sacrifice her to spare her suffering when he saw no hope, but he couldn't do that when there was the slightest chance of saving her. He made the decision to give up his sister for now so that he could save his wife. Once more, he set aside oath to his sister in the hope that the Elements would honor his loyalty to his wife by sparing her life. Apparently, the Elements had turned against him because, rather than helping him, they seemed to curse him at every step. Nothing he could do was right, none of his decisions were correct. They seemed determined to see him suffer for some unimagined sleight he had inflicted upon them. The tears of grief and sorrow turned into tears of anger and righteous indignation. His hand, once quivering and weak, reached down to grasp the sword still strapped to his belt with a grip of steel. His teeth grinded together as he clenched his jaw. He wasn't going to let it happen, not again. Enough was enough. He had given much to the Elements, now it was time that they give him something in return. His despair began to turn into bitter determination and anger. He had served the Elements for all of his life and had become an oathbreaker to continue to honor and respect them. He had sacrificed and gone without for years while asking for nothing in return. He gave up his mother, his father, his sister, and his people with nary a complaint, trusting that the Elements had a greater reason for what happened. Many times, when others had complained or fought, he accepted what came to him because it was the will of the Elements. The Elements give and they take away, that is the way of things. But no more. He was tired of giving and wanted to take something for himself. He was a man who had been stretched to his limits over the past month. Exhaustion, despair, hope, love, and sheer, raw determination were converging into a pure force that was igniting fury within him. It had been building up since the night they took Bronwyn and how, when it seemed that all hope was gone, he could no longer contain it. "No," whispered Syler to himself. "I forbid it." Then everything within him snapped. The world became tinted with sickening crimson. He was furious and instead of holding back, he let his fury build up just as he had when fighting Growald. He directed his fury at the Elements and the Angvardi and the Shalktra and Governor Uthas and the Priests of the Way and the men who tortured his sweet Bronwyn and the generals who led the campaign to conquer his home and anyone else who had stood in his way. The red intensified and he could feel the veins in his neck pulsing in fury. "No more," he said through clenched teeth. "I have given and you have taken, but no longer. I don't know what you want of me, but you shall not have it." Now, all he could see were shades of violent, blood colored crimson. He no longer cared what anyone else thought as he stood up and yelled at the top of his lungs, "I call upon you, Elements of the Earth! If you want me to do anything for any of you ever again, you will do my bidding! I swear upon all that is sacred and binding, if Bronwyn dies, I shall set myself against you with all of my heart and will, now and forever." The world shifted into a pure white and he could see nothing through its blinding glory. In his fury, he could only think of what Avenil had said about the Elements. He spoke of them as though they were individuals, not just abstract entities. In this state, with his heart beating so fast in his ears that it sounded like an entire army marching to war, his mind cleared. Memories that had been locked away for a month were suddenly available to him. Word in a language that he had never before even heard of were flashing in front of his very eyes, and he could read them. A Voice, all powerful and all knowing rang in his head and he could understand it. For that brief moment, Syler remembered. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Yie raqueiil notoar forswe tarques, Suella, motqual pansuel fatrere!" As soon as the last syllable left his lips, the white enveloped him and he was taken.

I just went through and read all eight chapters so I can keep up with what else you are posting. I like what you are doing with things and the direction you are going. If you wanted, you could really expand these chapters into something far longer and detailed, but that would be a lot of work. As it is, you have some decent character development with your own characters and you use canon ones generally as they should be used without trying to make them too much your own creation. Now that I am caught up, I will be continuing to read these as you post them.

With me bunching up some of Syler's storyline into a single, contiguous piece, I was able to free up this section for its own complete chapter. This part is essentially the Angvardi version of Chapter 8 where we get to see the discussion and argument in King Rael's throne room about how to respond to the prophecy. This time, the Angvardi are responding to the massacre of priests in the Kubei Temple perpetrated by Syler and Growald. I expanded this section significantly and added several new players, both major and minor. I reworked Lord Valinc Tesk's character to make him a more logical character in both motive and capacity for wanting to rebel against the Empress and added a segment with him in it as part of my stated goal of fleshing out formerly underdeveloped major characters. There are a lot of things that may seem just thrown in here, but I have ideas and goals for everyone mentioned. ______________________ Chapter 21 Before, I was willing to indulge the Angvardi's attempts to locate this Kutii seer, but that was before two dozen of our holy priests were killed. Now, I am personally taking over the search for this woman and whatever connection she has to the One. — High Priest Rasaund, in response to the Massacre at Kubei Imperial Palace Angvard Angvardi Empire October 2 "It is an outrage!" Despite the passionate delivery, Raella couldn't force herself to agree. Perhaps it was because she had had a few days to digest the news. As soon as word of the massacre in Kubei reached the Imperial Court, her mother had sent out word summoning all who could arrive within a week. Many of the most important lords and ladies or their trusted ambassadors stayed near Angvard for such occasions when general summons were issued by the empress. Now, she, along with the rest of the Imperial court, had been sitting in court going over Unification strategies when the message of the massacre was formally presented to the audience. As the princess and heir of the Unified Kingdoms, she was one of the very few who had been allowed to know of what happened before this announcement. For the rest, this was their first time to hear such tragic news. When they had heard the news of the slaughter of twenty-six priests of the Way and the desecration of their Kubei Temple, the entire court was outraged and furious. Some immediately cried out for vengeance against the population of Kubei, others wondered if the Tetrarchy had grown displeased with their progress there and were punishing them. A few more politically savvy men subtly questioned whether Governor Uthas was qualified to remain as governor or if he shouldn't be replaced for allowing this to happen. Only the princess seemed to be saddened by the news and sat silently watching the uproar on her throne at the right hand of the Empress. To have all of those pious, faithful men die at the hands of the very infidels they were ministering to was a tragedy, not an outrage. The poor people of Kubei had been left without so many priests to guide them and were surely reeling from such a loss. This horrible event should be an opportunity for everyone to reach out to their new brothers and sisters in faith. She had hoped that these people would be able to see as much, but her hopes had been dashed within seconds. These powerful men and women were shouting for a reaction, retaliation, or preventative measures to be taken. It didn't much matter which group they fell under, they all were quickly spinning this to suit their own needs. It never ceased to amaze and sadden her how men and women were willing to take the deaths of innocents and mold it to their own goals. The generals were demanding that they be allowed to recruit from the most loyal and devoted foreign converts so they could patrol their native cities and relieve the burden on the already strained Angvardi forces. The priests from the Tetrand wanted punishment to rain down upon the city in the form of penance and sacrifice to the Tetrarchy. The politicians were either trying to oust the current bureaucrats and replace them with those loyal to their own causes or were defending the governor and his men because they shared political ideologies. The local aristocracy were concerned that this might raise their taxes or harm trade in the region. Those gifted with magic were proposing new, improved magical defenses for every temple and outpost that would prevent such an event from ever reoccurring. None of them cared that twenty-six men died. None of them cared that there were poor, innocent, and faithful people in Kubei who were without priests or who had lost a dearly loved minister. She didn't know what she would do if Brother Ansee were to die. He had been her priest for almost all of her life and was a great spiritual comfort to her in all of her dark times fighting the nightmares she had from her own gift. As the others waged their personal battles, she stayed silent by her mother's side. There was nothing for her to say and she didn't want to embarrass her mother in front of the court. Her mind wandered away from their petty arguments to trying to figure out why men would want to kill priests. It made no sense to her. The priests were good, holy men who merely wanted to help everyone get closer to the Tetrarchy and thus avoid Chaos. Who would ever want their souls to spend eternity in the Coming Darkness where Chaos roamed and unleashed unspeakable anguish upon the souls of the damned? Who in their right mind wouldn't accept the tenants of the Tetrarchy and be accepted into Unity with the gods forever? She kept pondering what would drive men to such blind ignorance that they would strike down the very men trying to help save their eternal souls and protect Teladia from the Coming Darkness. "And what of the Shalktra that were stationed in the Temple?" Valinc Tesk exclaimed. "Did they not insist that the city's guards be stationed elsewhere and the Temple's protection be left in their hands?" The mention of the Shalktra snapped Raella out of her private thoughts. It was dangerous to mention the Shalktra here and everyone knew it. On one hand, it was dangerous to bring back the memories of terror and slaughter they wrought upon Angvardi lands during the wars. Speaking fondly of them risked bringing political repercussions from those who had lost loved ones or fortunes from their raids of terror. On the other hand, it was dangerous to speak ill of them because they were now allies. Anyone who attacked them risked facing retaliation from those who believed that it was imperative for Terula and Angvard to be united under Unity and that any who questioned that was bordering blasphemy. Valinc was treading a dangerous road, but it was one he often seemed to travel. He was the lord of the city of Nuran's Keep in the southern province of Elthan. Many of those farms had been burned and the workers slaughtered as part of the Terulans' terror campaigns decades ago, so he had absolutely no love for the Terulans and nothing but hatred for the Shalktra. For the last few years, he had become increasingly vocal against the Terulans and the forced mingling between the two nations that was part of Unification. Normally, he would be easy to ignore, but Nuran's Keep controlled the River Gatos which allowed the major city Tazetora and most of the produce from the provinces of Yae Kle and Elthan to be shipped north. Without his support, trade in that region would be difficult and the disruption to the food chain would not be easily remedied. There were rumors that he would be soon making an attempt to replace Governor Piltgus and lead the entire province himself, and some feared he might have the support to pull such a move off. "That they did," confirmed General Pharis. As the officer in command of all Angvardi forces in occupied lands, he had not been happy when the empress had approved the Shalktra request to take up the protection of all Temples they were operating from. "It was against my advice, but our Empress authorized it." "Then this is their fault," Valinc said. "They swore to protect the temples where they had displaced our Angvardi guards and have shown that they are unable to protect our Temples. We need to expel them from our lands and be rid of them." "We have way of knowing if our own guards would have been able to stop this," argued Lady Ferr Norvali. She was a wealthy heiress from Lavisha in the province of Nanai along the eastern coast who had inherited a shipping company. She had the foresight to marry a noble from Sartes. Since Sartes the last major port city before the border with Terula, it made for excellent trade options with their neighbor and helped create a miniature monopoly in the area. Goods from as far back as Hildervest to Angvard and all other cities using the Angravada River would need to find a safe harbor to resupply and repair damages obtained passing around the Goldset Shores. Lavisha, set in the Bay of Lavish, offered that safe harbor. There, they would be able to organize into convoys for the journey south around Paleman's Mountains and Stonewatch with Ferr's ships serving as guides and escorts. As they approached the wild waters around the Kingdom of Ragos, escort ships from Sartes under the flag of her husband would meet them and provide protection against Ragos' raiders. It provided a fairly safe means to send goods south to Terula and it made both her and her husband extremely wealthy and powerful. Without them, trade between the northern provinces of Angvard and the southern provinces would be severely hampered. She was no friend to Lord Valinc due to a series of trade disputes with him regarding passage up and down the River Gatos and would take any opportunity to weaken him in court. "We have had no problems among the newly Unified provinces until the Terulans took over," Valinc pointed out testily. "It could have taken these malcontents that long to plan," said Lord Calbas. He was a former governor of the Eartland Province who had retired three years ago. As a sign of the Empress' gratitude for his years of service, he was allowed a permanent presence in her court. Raella thought he was one of the more rational men in the room as he tried not to hold grudges nor did he have any real agenda since he was retired. Unlike those who were trying to acquire more power or influence, he was content to simply be here and serve her mother by giving his seasoned advice. Calbas continued, "Just because they haven't struck until now doesn't mean they haven't been planning this for months." "What evidence do you have to support that notion?" asked Ambassador Nilgeth. He was the official representative of Governor Zirtaellin of Malorez, the northernmost of the Angvardi provinces. "There have been numerous reports of rogue soldiers among the Sei who are still resisting our forces," offered General Pharis. "Some of the Kutii could have been inspired by their misguided resistance and attacked." "Then it wouldn't have mattered if it had been Terulans or Angvardi protecting the temple because they would have attacked it no matter what," said Ferr. Valinc balled his fists. "If it weren't for the Shalktra's heavy handed approach to abducting dozens of women from their homes, the people of Kubei wouldn't have risen up in riots like they did. I daresay that there wouldn't have been an attack in the first place and our priests would still be alive." "The Shalktra were doing only what our Empress and Governor Uthas authorized them to do," Nilgeth said. "We have a copy of the Empress' declaration allowing the Shalktra to search within her domain in the archives if you wish to verify it, and Governor Uthas signed the arrest warrants." "Granting them leave to search for a single woman doesn't give the Shalktra free hand in terrorizing the populaces of entire cities!" interjected Lord Haraz Geltonis. He ruled over the city fortress of Qualdez along the Angvardi-Kutii border. "For generations untold my city has endured raids by the Kutii warriors and for just as long, soldiers from the province of Dunhavo have stopped them from plundering the rest of Angvard. Now, when we finally have the chance to live peacefully alongside the Kutii, the Terulans have come in and turned them against us." "If Uthas had done what he was sent there to do, the Kutii would never have risen up against us," Ferr shot back. "The Shalktra alone couldn't have stirred up such anger among the natives. It takes time to organize and acquire weapons. There is no way that such could have been done in three days." "And yet, there was no violence there until the Shalktra came and terrorized the people," said Haraz. With a flourish of his arms, he continued in a pleading voice, "How can we expect the Sei or the Kutii to ever trust and accept Unification if we steal the wives the priests have assigned them away from their arms?" His eyes fell upon the priests of the Tetrand gathered off to the side in their elevated seats. Archpriest Caestros of Kilderstad rose to his feet and said in his trademarked booming voice, "The sanctity of Unification and the marriages it produces cannot be tread upon lightly! Every man has the right to protect his wife against accusations by going before the Way." Nilgeth smiled craftily, "Does that mean that they can take up arms against the temple and the priests therein? Does that mean these men have the right to attack the priests and, by extension, the gods themselves?" Caestros stood his ground, "Most certainly not, but the Terulans violated the Way by not following Wayic law and holding trials before the Tetrarchy. They concealed these women in dungeons without telling their husbands why they had been captured. Such actions are reprehensible and cannot be tolerated by the Tetrand!" "Calm yourself, Archpriest Caestros," a new voice said from the front. Sitting nearly as close to the Empress as Raella herself was, the High Priests were set apart from everyone, even the Tetrand. High Priest Brogath, paragon of Tantis the Founder, mightiest of the Tetrarchy, was not one to be taken lightly. Most believed the power he wielded in the Empire was second only to the Empress. Now, he stood tall in his green raiment that was embroidered in gold and silver, staring down at one of his own priests in chastisement. Caestros immediately bowed his head and said, "My apologies, Enlightened One. Please show me the error of my words." Brogath's eyes searched Caestros' face from afar for any signs of mockery, but either Caestros was an excellent actor or he was being genuine because the high priest accepted the apology with a single nod. "The Way does indeed hold marriages as sacred, but that does not excuse the actions of those who attacked the gods' priests. Those men must be punished, but it is not for the Tetrand to dictate how to proceed in doing so." Even Raella understood what he was saying. He didn't want to get the Tetrand involved in this so that if things continued to get worse, the Way would be blameless. Raella was glad he was taking this position because she didn't think that the priests should be involved in petty politics like this. The priests needed to be focused on helping guide the people, not getting mired down in dirty politics. Even with Brogath's statement of neutrality, there were plenty of others willing to enter the fray on both sides. The fight continued until Raella lost track of how they got to what they were arguing about in the first place. The subject quickly moved from what happened in Kubei to trade routes and territorial disputes among the petty lords to worries about falling tax revenues. Her mother was content to allow everyone to say their piece and wage their battles while she listened with varying degrees of amusement, boredom, and interest. Raella knew that in time, she would make her own decisions based on what she had heard and would end the debate with her final word. Sometimes, that took hours, other times, it was just minutes. This time, it would be just minutes because Valinc allowed himself to fall into a devastating trap. "Then maybe it is high time to send all those damn Terulans back to their bastard king and be done with them!" he shouted in the heat of the moment. Everyone knew that it was the wrong thing to say and the shock of his statement brought silence to the once tumultuous din. Into that stillness floated the Empress' silky voice, "Is that what you really think, Valinc?" He realized his mistake and gulped. "I am sorry, Empress, I spoke rashly." "Is that what you really think?" Celienna repeated, this time with a definite menace to her voice. A frown formed on her face and her eyes were narrowed. Valinc paled and said quietly, "I meant no disrespect, my Empress." "Oh, but I have been disrespected. You have chosen to insult and blaspheme my husband, that 'bastard king' to which you are displeased with." "I, I am sorry. It is just, just that so many of my family and friends suffered terribly during the wars, it is hard to look past that sometimes." Celienna's face softened slightly and her voice returned to an almost placid level, "I do understand your suffering, for you were not alone in it. We all suffered during the wars, but that is why we must forgive and move on. The gods have shown us a better way, one of peace and Unity. We must forgive the sins of the Terulans just as they must forgive ours." With his head bowed low, Valinc nodded and said, "You are, as always, correct, my Empress. Please, forgive me for my own transgression." The Empress beckoned for him to approach her throne with an outstretched hand. As he stepped forward and knelt before her. In a soothing voice, she said, "Of course I will forgive you, Valinc. We all make mistakes and say things we don't mean." She took his hands in one of hers. In an instant, her faced hardened and Raella gasped quietly in horror at what she feared would come. When she continued, Celienna's voice was harsh, brutal, and without mercy. "However, as the gods command, there is punishment for all transgressions." Flames began to form on her fingertips and soon, the throne room was filled with Valinc's cries of pain. The Empress held his hands in a firm grip as flames fully enveloped them. Raella could hardly bear to watch, but she knew she must or it would make her look weak. When the flames dimmed, the Empress' hand was fully intact, but Valinc's were charred and horribly burned. Raella hated it when her mother used her powers like this, but she always said that it was good to inspire both awe and healthy fear in one's subjects. Seeing one of their number punished so definitely contributed to the Empress' power and authority. Celienna's spoke in a quiet voice that held no hint of the previous brutality it once held. "You are forgiven, Valinc, but pray that I do not see your face in my presence again." When she had finished, she released him causing him to stumble onto the ground at her feet. Still weeping in pain, Lord Valinc staggered to his feet and gave her a hasty bow before, swaying with each step, fleeing from the room. "Now," Celienna said, "does anyone else have anything to say on the subject of expelling our Terulan brothers and sisters from our lands?" Nobody did. * * * * * Through the blinding pain that emanated from his hands, there was only one thing that Lord Valinc Tesk could think about: vengeance. He managed to flee from the throneroom to where his own guards could get him to safety. The physical pain was bad enough, but the humiliation was unbearable. To have all of the gathered lords and ladies witness his downfall in such a gruesome, spectacular manner was not something he could ever live down. His guards found a gurney for him and were rushing him to the healers. Since he wasn't really able to do anything else at this moment, he lay there and contemplated the fallout of what had happened. He was now a pariah, someone who could never return to the seat of power. His plans to take the governorship were surely foiled now because there was no way the empress would approve his ascension. He would be lucky if he would be able to hold on to Nuran's Keep. His plans for future upward movement and increasing his power base were seriously threatened, but not entirely gone. Despite the damage done today, he still had allies and, with their support, he might be able to retain his position as Lord of the Keep. "My lord," said Lieutenant Billins as he carried the gurney, "we are almost there. Hold on for just a bit longer." The stout but muscular soldier was in command of his personal guard wherever he went. By the veins that were throbbing in his temple and neck, Valinc could tell that he was furious at allowing his lord to be harmed. "Do not blame yourself," Valinc whispered through the pain. The man had been loyal and competent for years and had become almost a friend. He didn't want him allowing guilt to embitter him at such a young age. "You could have done nothing. The Empress herself is not someone you are capable of stopping." "Still, I should have—" Despite himself, Valinc chuckled at the thought. "You should have what? Attacked the Empress? Don't be a fool. It would not do for you to be killed." "Why did she do this?" he asked. "Because I made a mistake." The soldier blinked several times, but said nothing. His expertise was in physical combat, not in political warfare, and he knew better than to get involved in such matters. Instead of responding, he barked for the men to move faster to get their lord to the healers. Valinc's vision began to falter under the sun as they rushed through the streets. Though he could see the sweat on the brows and exposed arms of those who were rushing his gurney, he felt cold and began to shiver. The next thing he remembered was seeing the face of a young man whom he did not recognize peering down at him. They were indoors now with a comforting blue flame providing light. The man was studying his hands intently, but he wasn't saying anything. There were creases along the man's forehead below the hood that indicated he was a healing mage and his eyes were glassy and fully of weariness. Valinc knew just enough about magic to realize when someone was exerting themselves in it. He remained quiet and still while trying to clear his foggy mind so he could plan for the future. Time was of the essence here. He needed to contact his allies around the empire and rally his support. At the least, he needed to have a backup in case he was forced out of his estate in the Keep. A man of his bloodline and skills would be wasted on the streets with the rest of the common rabble. Even deposed, Governor Piltgus would not allow him to live for long. His family would likely suffer the same dire fate unless he could do something to stop it. "Lord Tesk," the man said, snapping Valinc out of his thoughts. Valinc licked his lips and managed to whisper, "What is it?" There was remorse in the man's voice as he said, "There is some sort of curse on your hands. I don't believe they can be cured by magic, at least not by any but the one who cast the curse." Valinc's eyes blinked and he took a deep breath while his still foggy mind processed this. "What are you saying?" he managed to croak out. "What I am saying is that your hands will have to heal naturally." The healer reached out of Valinc's vision and returned with a small clear glass of water. "Here, drink this. The fires that have burned your hands have driven the water from your body and displaced the balance of the elements within you. You must replenish the element of water within you while avoiding further close contact with fire until your balance is restored and you are healed. I also recommend plenty of exposure to fresh air and bare soil to ensure that those elements are not weakened." When he tried to prop himself up, Valinc found his hands bound in white linen and pain shot up his arms as he put weight on them. With a snarl of disgust at his own weakness, he fell back into his bed and glowered at the ceiling. He was thirsty and needed water. With a growl of impotent frustration, he allowed the healer to lift him up so that he could take a few sips of water. He was finally able to notice that he was in his room within his own small estate within the city. The cool water definitely helped clear his mind, but he was still confused. He had never heard of a healer not being able to at least partially heal someone before. Sure, many times the person was beyond the skills of the healer and firmly in the embrace of the gods, but he was not like that. He had seen men with their faces burned nearly off healed and restored with hardly a mark to remember their injuries by. "And my hands? Will they ever recover?" he asked, though he feared the answer. The healer's eyes were downcast when he shook his head. "I am afraid that is up to the gods." Celienna did this, intentionally so. Valinc knew that she could be a zealous defender of her Terulan husband, but she normally managed to conceal her proclivity for cruelty and spiteful vengeance. Burning him had not been enough, neither had shaming him publicly. She wanted him to suffer for a long time and be permanently maimed. Worse, she wanted his hands to eternally bear scars so that all could see what happened to those who insulted her precious husband. "Leave me," Valinc said bitterly. The healer inclined his head and withdrew leaving him alone with his thoughts. After a time, he heard a respectful cough at the door of his room. He turned to see Archpriest Caestros in his priestly green robes. In a soft, almost singsong voice, he said, "My apologies for the interruption, Lord Tesk, but I wished to inquire upon your health after such a dreadful display." "I am alive, but ruined," shot Valinc with venom in his voice. Caestros took a few steps forward to inspect his bandaged hands. He tsked a few times in reproach and said, "Such a shame, truly. All for one ill advised outburst. All of your hard work and dedication, ruined in a single moment." "Did you come here to gloat?" "Hardly, my lord. I came to see what your plans were." Valinc's eyes narrowed, "Why would you care?" The priest met his gaze without flinching and replied nonchalantly, "Because I wish to be the High Priest someday. Brogath may believe neutrality is an option for the Tetrand, but I can see enough of the upcoming conflicts to know that isn't possible. We are rapidly approaching the end of days, the Coming Darkness. At that time, every man and woman must make a stand and take sides, there will be no room for hesitation or neutrality." It was like he was offering a sermon at his temple. Valinc wasn't too interested in tellings of the future or expectations of what may be based on obscure prophecy. He was more interested in what was going to happen to himself and his family. "What does this have to do with me?" The priest smiled in the same crafty way that barely concealed the political acumen that made him such a fierce political opponent. "Perhaps nothing, but maybe everything. You have lost some allies and some political power, but you are now possibly in the position to gain new ones and new power." Despite himself, he was intrigued. "What do you mean? After banishment from the Imperial Court, there isn't much a chance that I will ever be governor." The smile only grew wider, "Do not turn your back on life, Lord Tesk. I have the feeling that someone will approach you soon with an offer that may sound dangerous or too good to be true. Hear them out and consider this: in these times, anything is possible. The established order may not remain established if the right things fall into place." "This sounds dangerous," commented Valinc. "Come now, my lord. I am a priest, a loyal follower of the great god Tantis the Founder. I have only the best interests of the Tetrarchy in mind." Caestros stood up and placed his hand on Valinc's forehead. "May the blessings of the Four cure you of your injuries and guide you to better fortune. Goodbye, my lord, I hope our next meeting finds you in better health and standing." Valinc let him leave as he began to contemplate what was said. He did have some friend and allies left, and if he were smart, he could still take action. He had soldiers that were loyal to him and money to buy new ones. He had not maintained his power by being lazy or ignoring opportunity. "Billins," he called out as loud as his weak voice could. He knew that the man wouldn't be too far from his lord. The short man appeared in his doorway moments later and asked, "What is it, milord?" "Begin packing up the estate, but take only what we need and the valuables. We are going to Enhorpe to visit an old friend. Leave a few servants to watch over the estate, I do not intend on being gone for long."

That error has been corrected. Here is the next chapter. This one is a bit short, especially compared to the last one. Not much changed here, but I did add a bit, something that serves as a way to verify various key members mentioned in prophecy. Just in case it wasn't clear (and believe me, it is hard to describe it), the star pendant mentioned here is the very same one that serves as the background to the title (seen in the first post of this topic). . . . . and a disaster has been narrowly avoided. Apparently I forgot to save the work on about half of this chapter. I am glad that I had it posted here or it would be gone forever and I would have to start all over. ____________ Chapter 20 Never look a Krue in the eye. — Sei anecdote Near Krue Territory Edge of the Subeleth Woods October 2 When they finally gained sight of the vast carpet of dark green sprawled out over the horizon as far as the eye could see, Syler was almost relieved. The Subeleth Woods were a place very, very few people not born there dared to visit. The woods' defenders, the Krue, were a fiercely protective people who slaughtered almost everyone who approached. Unlike the Sei's other neighbors, the Krue did not typically venture far from their forest. They were content to stay within their towering trees as long as nobody provoked them. Little was known about them other than anyone who tried to invade simply disappeared. In times past, arrogant and prideful kings had sent armies to conquer the Krue thinking that they were hiding vast fortunes or simply to gain notoriety. None of the armies ever came back and no word of their fate was heard from again. Any army who entered those woods vanished without a trace leaving nothing but fear for the woods' inhabitants in their wake. Why he had agreed to come here was beyond him. Desperation, certainly was a motivating factor, but he thought it was more. For some insanely bizarre reason, as time went by, he found himself trusting the hairy, foul tempered man that called himself Growald. It most certainly wasn't because the two got along during their journey, it was because of something else, something he couldn't quite finger. He had come very close to killing Bronwyn, but for some reason, heading into what normally amounted to certain death was comforting. Once the initial shock wore off, it was replaced with a calm that gave him a small measure of hope that maybe the Seinari was right and she could be saved after all. The journey had been a little easier now that they were traveling with two dozen of Growald's men. Without the need to take watches or worries about food, Syler's party was able to get a little more rest and slightly recover from the toll of their three week trek had taken on them. They made better time, as well, despite having to avoid Angvardi patrols. Even then, Growald insist that they not head directly to Subeleth as that would give their intent away to any who were watching their glowing dots on a map, so the trip took longer than it could have. There was no lack of excitement to keep them from getting bored. While Syler and Growald had fallen into a resentful silence, one or more of the Seinari and Lamastus went at it at least once a night and sometimes had to be broken up. The Angvardi slept with a naked knife in one hand and his unsheathed sword in the other. Havert and Alltis made attempts to talk with Growald's men, but only Tald was from Kubei and the rest lacked any trust for a Kutii like Alltis. They barely tolerated the delays caused by Bronwyn, though Syler thought that was probably out of pity for her wretched condition more than anything. It might also have had something to do with the broken nose that Growald gave one of the men who made a snide comment Syler didn't quite hear while they were stopped and tending to her. Clearly, for whatever reason, Growald's interest in Bronwyn seemed quite intent to the point that he was willing to anger his own men to protect her. Syler didn't know why, but he finally concluded that it was because she somehow held the key to removing the tracer spell from him. They were all relieved when they finally caught sight of their destination. That relief was almost enough to cover the underlying trepidation and fear they felt. Only Growald seemed immune to it, but Syler didn't think he was really afraid of anything. One way or another, the waiting and worry would be over soon. "They found us!" Tald shouted from the rear. Every neck craned to look at him pointing behind them. There, cresting the hill behind them, were several dozen men on horseback. Syler could see the sun glinting off their armor and the spears. "Ride hard for the forest!" commanded Growald as he kicked his horse into a full gallop. Syler winced as he followed suit because he knew how much the extra bouncing would hurt Bronwyn. She was, fortunately, in her semi-conscious state, but it would still hurt her. They were still several miles from Subeleth and the Angvardi were close behind. Their mounts must have been spurred by their gods themselves because they were rapidly gaining ground. What had been a half mile lead was quickly narrowed down to a few hundred yards in just a matter if minutes. Syler threw caution into the wind and drove his horse as hard as he could. There were too many pursuers after them to ensure victory and he did not want to fight with Bronwyn to watch over. If they made it to the forest, they might be able to split them up and deal with them in smaller groups, but here in the open rolling hills, they had no chance. The Angvardi were getting close, dangerously close as they raced towards the forest. They all had spears waiting at the ready to ram into their backs. When one of Growald's men flew over his mount's head as it crashed to the ground with a scream, Syler realized that they also had some archers as well. With his heart beating furiously in panic, Syler looked back and saw that they were only a hundred yards behind them and steadily gaining. His eyes caught Havert's and he saw the grim look on his friend's face that spoke volumes. Neither dared waste their breath on words that couldn't be heard over the sound of hooves furiously beating on the ground. Syler knew that the two of them were on poor terms of late and their disagreement over Growald didn't help. He regretted the divide that had come between them over the last week and a half, but there was nothing he could do about it now. In his heart, he forgave Havert for anything wrong that he had done against him and left it behind. With Angvardi were now within a hundred yards, the arrows began to come more frequently. It was clear to them all now that they wouldn't make it to the forest in time. Syler began to consider what he would do when they caught up to him. He would fight, obviously, but doing so while trying to keep Bronwyn both on their horse and out of harm would not be easy. He vowed that even though he might be taken or killed, he would take at least one of the bastards down with him. He was also determined not to let Bronwyn fall back into their hands. He had given her his word that he would never let her suffer like that again. Better for her to slip into the hands of her Spirits quietly and painlessly from a knife to the heart than to live in pain and anguish until she died a horrible death all alone. As the Angvardi got closer and closer, several of Growald's men began to draw their own weapons. Syler followed suit and nearly fell off his horse as he shifted Bronwyn's weight into his left arm. It wouldn't be long now and their doom would befall them. If only he hadn't been so stubborn and had left with Growald without an argument, they would have had those extra few minutes they needed to get into the forest. "Look!" Alltis shouted as loudly as she could. With her free hand, she pointed ahead of them to a single dark spot that had emerged from the edge of the forest. At this distance, they couldn't see much detail, but Syler thought it was another rider and wondered if the Angvardi had managed to send a group ahead of them to cut them off just in case they made it this far. His fears grew when he saw two dozen more dark figures emerge behind the first rider. What hope was left in him vanished and he sagged a little in his saddle. As he stared at the figures ahead of him in despair, they began to ride toward them. Syler could hardly believe his eyes, because they new arrivals seemed to close the mile gap between them in seconds. He knew it was longer than that, but he was astonished at how rapidly they were moving. If the Angvardi behind them had fast mounts, then these had to be under the influence of magic to move as they did. When the new riders were a thousand yards away, an eerie sound reached Syler's ears over the noise of the horses. It sounded like a horn being blown, but it wasn't any type of horn that he had ever heard. Then, to his surprise, a brilliant light emerged from their leader and arced over his head. There was an explosion behind him and he hazarded a look. What he saw was fire and a few of their pursuit tumbling in the ground covered in flames. "It is the Krue!" shouted Growald. "Quick, sheath your weapons! Do not threaten them!" Syler didn't argue this time, but did as the man suggested. At least with two free hands, he could better hold his reins and Bronwyn. Another fireball exploded beside them and nearly threw Tald off his mount. Another fireball exploded in front of them so close that Syler felt the heat and breathed in the smoke as he rode through it. A few more fireballs exploded all around them, including one that turned one of Growald's men into charred meat. Then, at five hundred yards, the fire stopped raining down on them and began to arc over their heads and straight into the Angvardi. Then, they were upon them and past them. He had heard stories of the Krue's hasuan, but he had never seen one for himself. As they thundered past him fast enough to cause a burst of wind that nearly knocked him off of his horse, he had to admit that they were impressive. The beasts looked like horses, but were larger and were rumored to be far smarter. The most noticeable feature they had was the giant horn coming out of their forehead that they used as a weapon in battle. It was that feature, combined with their size and speed, that made the Krue cavalry near unstoppable and terrifying in battle. The Krue passed them by without paying heed and ran headlong into the pursuing Angvardi. Syler and the rest of those with him slowed down and turned to look at the battle. It was a total massacre from the start. Even if the Angvardi had their spears ready, they were no match for the horn of the hasuan or the short javelins that the Krue threw with one hand as they neared. The Angvardi had numbered slightly more than forty when they entered this battle, but half of them had fallen after the Krue's first pass. Those not speared were gored or knocked off by the hasuan. The Krue circled around with astonishing agility despite their speed and brought their swords into play against the survivors. There were some sparks and smaller explosions from the magic wielder among the Krue, but somehow, Syler didn't think that the Krue really need the help of magic to utterly crush their opposition. Only two Krue fell, but the ground was littered with the bodies of the Easterners and their mounts. When it was done, all that remained was the cry of wounded men and horses. Even that sound began to die out as the Krue dismounted and began killing the survivors, both man and beast, without mercy. They said nothing, but operated in a chilling silence. The Sei also, said nothing, but waited for the Krue to finish with their grizzly tasks. There was no attempt to flee because all knew that the hasuan would catch their exhausted horses in moments. What struck him was that there were equal numbers of women as there were men in the group. The women mostly had their long hair done up in a series of braids to keep it out of the way during battle. Syler had never seen a culture that had women fighting. They all wore black leather armor that was intricately etched in exotic designs, mostly of fierce beasts or likenesses of their hasuan. They didn't wear helmets which allowed their dark and mostly black hair to show. He couldn't tell how long their hair was because they wore hoods the color of the trees of their forest that flowed into a cape capable of covering their entire body. Most had war paint slathered over their faces in a dizzying array of shapes and styles. Every one of them had a short sword, but there was a variety in other weaponry. Most had bows for ranged fighting while a few had huge battleaxes that looked like they could cut a man clean in two. A select few had a strange weapon that appeared to be nothing more than three metal balls the size of a man's fist at the end of a thin rope. After the last of the wounded were dispatched, the Krue began gathering the bodies up in great piles. A woman who hadn't gotten off of her hasuan turned her attention to the Sei. She had startling black and blue war paint covering the entirety of her face including her lips and ears. Though she wore the same black leather armor that the others did, hers had gold highlights along the edges of her vambraces, greaves, and around her collar. Her cape was also lined in gold and silver stitching and was longer than what the others wore. The hood to her cape was down revealing long, black hair that had been tied up in braids. There was something about the way she moved and that the other Krue reacted to her that caused chills to run up and down Syler's spine. Her majestic mount carried her back and forth in front of them as she inspected each. When she looked Syler over, that cold feeling returned and he lost the feeling in his fingers. After looking at him, she looked over to Lamastus standing next to him and her face hardened slightly. He could tell that the others felt the same disturbance as he did when Havert shuddered slightly during his own inspection. When she had finished, she guided her hasuan back a couple dozen yards so she could see them all at once. "Who speaks for you?" the woman said at last. Her voice had a thick accent, as though she was not used to speaking the Common Tongue. Growald, to his credit, spoke up even though it brought the potential of a quick death to him. "I do, Mistress Sorceress." The woman's eyes honed in on his bearded face. "Who are you, and why do you dare tread upon our lands?" Growald inclined his head and replied in the most deferential voice Syler had ever heard him use. "I am Growald of Kasas Sei, lieutenant of the Seinari's Remnant Army. We are fugitives of the Terulans and the Angvardi." She didn't seem impressed. "Why do the Southerners hunt you?" "They have conquered our lands and enslaved our people," Growald said. "We resist them and for that, they wish to kill us." The woman looked at Growald with an expression as dispassionate as death itself. "Lie again and I kill you all." Growald paled and remained silent. Nobody else seemed to want to speak, so Syler spoke up, "They took my wife without just cause, then they tortured and raped her. Some of us freed her and other prisoners. During that time, we killed many of their number." The warmth went out of the world once more as she turned her cold gaze upon him. He was terrified, but he couldn't show it. He sat up straight in his saddle and didn't sag or cower. These people didn't strike him as being accepting of cowardice. "You speak the truth. What is your name, Sei?" "I am Syler Penion of Sandrin," he responded. "You are clearly an enemy of the Southerners, yet one rides with you," she said with a pointed glare at Lamastus. "Why is this?" The blood drained out of Lamastus' face and he sat perfectly erect and unmoving. Syler nodded, then said, "He is a friend, one who has saved my life and the lives of my friends. He no longer serves his old masters, but is my ally." The woman narrowed her eyes and whispered a few words to herself. "Are you so sure about that? He is an Angvardi, an enemy of the People." "I am," Syler said without hesitation. "I would be dead three times over were it not for him. My wife also would be dead. I cannot believe that he is my enemy." There was no mercy in her cold, lifeless eyes. "It matters not what you believe, he is an enemy of the People, and he shall die," the woman said. Tongues of flame began to dance around her fingers as she lifted her hands. Syler didn't know what drove him, but he wouldn't let a man who had saved his life more than once die simply because of where he was born. "No!" he cried. Panic overtook him and he spurred his horse in front of Lamastus. The woman threw her hands forward and a fireball shot out at Lamastus. Before it could hit him, Syler managed to get in the way and took the fireball straight in the chest. "Syler!" Havert cried out in surprise and horror as Syler, Bronwyn, and their horse were completely consumed in the flames. The first thought that Syler had as he saw the fireball heading towards him was that he was going to die. The second was that he shouldn't have forced Bronwyn to share his fate. He didn't have time for a third thought before it hit him and he was covered in flames. The horse bucked and tried to throw him, but he had tightened every muscle in his body in preparation for the blast and was able to hang on with Bronwyn safely braced between his arms as he gripped the reigns. The world turned into light and fire, but he felt no pain. So this is what it is to die, he thought. Then the fire faded into smoke and he wasn't dead. The same woman was staring at him with an expression of disbelief, perhaps even shock, on her face. Havert was crying out his name, and Bronwyn was still leaning up against him unconscious. Syler calmed his horse down as best as possible while the others began to register their shock. Syler couldn't help but notice that the only one who wasn't surprised was Growald. He sat on his horse with a look that might just be smug pride. The rest, both Sei and Krue, were in shock or were completely confused. None were as confused as he himself was because he had absolutely no idea what had happened or why he was alive. The woman, after a few moments of consideration, all but leaped from atop her hasuan and started walking purposefully toward him. He didn't know why he did it, but Syler followed suit and got off his horse. Lamastus recovered from his own shock and helped him get Bronwyn settled on the ground. The woman walked straight up to him—completely ignoring Lamastus—and appraised him up close. As she stared into his eyes, he had the distinct feeling that she wasn't just trying to see what color they were. She didn't offer any emotions on her face, except perhaps a touch of judgmental sternness. The corners of her mouth were turned down and her eyes were narrowed in intense scrutiny. She grabbed his jaw and turned his head to each side, then put her hand in front of his face and started mumbling words he didn't recognize. Syler didn't know what to say, so he just stood there. At last, the woman spoke, "So, you are the Majiyae Oretezu." Syler hesitantly asked, "The what?'" She cocked her head and stared into his eyes once more. "You have not learned of it yet? Why has your Bolteros, your Guardian, not told you?" Before Syler could speak, Growald interjected, "Because his Guardian knows it isn't his place to tell the boy of his purpose." The woman whirled around and snarled something in a foreign tongue that caused burly man to blanch. She blinked a few times and said in the Common Tongue, "You are the Guardian from prophecy?" Growald quickly recovered his bravado and gave her a mocking half bow, "Yea, and believe me, it wasn't easy getting him here or making sure he didn't get himself killed." He reached to his neck to pull a chain out from under his armor. When it was free, he showed it to her. On the chain was an eight pointed star carved out of blue metal. The points of the star were made of two different designs: one for the ones facing up, down, and to each side, and another for the four at a diagonal. Within each point of the star were arrows and other angular shapes all seeming to radiate from a center that held a single, brilliant blue sapphire in it. With eyes narrowed, the Kruish woman reached around her own neck and pulled out a gold chain with another star on it. Hers was exactly like Growald's except that it was red with a ruby in the middle. What the two of them were doing wearing the same necklace was something that Syler simply couldn't piece together. He was too confused to do anything but gape at them, but Havert was able to quietly utter a few choice curses. "How do I know you didn't just steal that?" prodded Growald. Syler's heart nearly stopped at his brazen words and tone. The woman said something else in a language Syler didn't understand. Growald smiled and replied in kind. Even Tald looked surprised at Growald's use of whatever language they were speaking in. They spoke for a minute or two, then the woman nodded, apparently satisfied. Both of them put their pendants back and visibly relaxed. In the Common Tongue, she said, "You would have failed in your duty had I not been present," the woman said. "These Southerners would have killed you all." "Eh, but I didn't fail, did I?" Growald countered. His voice had regained all of its nauseating swagger. "I got him here, just as I was supposed to, and you have taken over." The woman favored him with a look that would have made most mortals curl up and whimper in fear, but he was not intimidated. In a voice dripping with acid, she said, "You have an interesting way of interpreting your duties, Guardian." "What are you talking about? What just happened and what is going on? Why didn't that fireball roast me?" Syler asked at last. The woman turned her attention back to him. "It would seem that you are indeed the Totores Oretezu, the Ignorant One, as was prophesied. Though, I did not expect you to be completely ignorant of your purpose upon coming here," she said as she gave Growald another glance. "He is pretty dense, as I am sure you will soon find out," added Growald. "The signs are right in front of him, but he does not see them." "A lot of help you have been," Syler shot back. The woman ignored his comment and said in a distant voice, "'And he shall be born innocent, unknowing of the future he will lead.' That is what the prophecy says, and so it has come to pass." She turned around and spoke in her language to the other Krue for a short time. When she finished, they bowed their heads briefly then started lighting the piles of bodies on fire. As soon all of the bodies were burning, they leaped onto their mounts and formed ranks. While they were doing this, the woman walked over to where Lamastus was watching over Bronwyn. Syler followed the strange woman and, just to be safe, knelt down to touch his wife's hand so she wouldn't go into convulsions. He looked up to see the woman glaring at Lamastus. After a few moments, she said in a low, menacing voice, "The Majiyae Oretezu has chosen to spare you, Angvardi. I pray that his mercy does not cause him heartache in the future." Lamastus swallowed hard and said nervously, "I am his friend and he is mine." "Perhaps, perhaps not," she said. "I will abide by his decision, but know that he and only he spared your life this day." She looked down to where Syler was kneeling and her eyes ran over Bronwyn's body. "This is the woman you risked your life for?" "This is my wife," Syler responded firmly. "One of the Kutii," she said quietly to herself. "Interesting. You fought for her sake?" Syler nodded. "The Shalktra—Terulans—took her and did horrible things to her. Several of us fought through their defenses and freed them. That is why the Angvardi were hunting us." "Do you love this woman?" Indignation colored his cheeks. "Of course I do!" he said a bit forcefully. The woman didn't seem to take offense, but simply took that in with a nod. She knelt next to the two of them and placed her hand on Bronwyn's forehead. After a second, she said, "Release her, I cannot sense her injuries while you touch her." Syler frowned in confusion, but did as he was told. She kept her hand on Bronwyn's forehead for a minute, then gently pulled her shirt up to look at her stomach. After inspecting the marks on it, she said, "Whomever placed this spell was very powerful indeed. It is beyond my abilities to reverse it." "So there is nothing we can do for her?" Syler asked. "Perhaps, perhaps not. You are the only one who can decide that, Majiyae Oretezu." "What does that mean?" "In your tongue, it means 'Magic Master,' though your kind refers to you as the Master of Magic." "I can't even use magic, must less master it," protested Syler." She sighed and asked, "You slew four men while retrieving her, yes?" Syler's eyes lost their focus as the memories of the blood and death returned to him briefly. "More than that." "You heard the thunder and felt the ground tremble beneath you, yes?" "Yes, I did, but—" She interrupted. "You saw the darkness envelop you, yes?" He merely looked down at his feet in response, not bothering to answer. She nodded to herself in understanding. "Then you have come into your powers, just as prophecy foretold. Magic has no power over you because you are now its master. That is why my fire did not touch on you and why your touch banishes the curse placed upon this Kutii. Whatever living thing you touch is shielded from magic of all sorts, just as you are." "That makes no sense," said Syler in a raised voice. "I really wish someone would just tell me what was going on." The woman raised a single finger and said, "In due time. There is a way to remove the curse upon this Kutii forever, but you must learn how to do it. Some of your abilities are inherent to you, others must be learned. There is nothing we can do until we are in a safe place. You will come with me." Her voice and her glaring eyes did not invite argument, so Syler said nothing. She stood up and said something to her warriors, then walked back to her mount. Two of the Krue guided their hasuan up to where Syler, Lamastus, and Bronwyn were and dismounted. "They will take the two of you on hasuan. It is faster and easier. The others will arrive later on their horses." "But… I can't leave her or the pain will return," Syler protested. "You will both ride on the hasuan, it is strong enough to carry three as long as there is no battle," the woman said. He didn't protest any further, but did as he was told. He soon found himself on top of the majestic beast. The Krue warrior was in the front, Bronwyn was next, and he was in the rear. He found that there was plenty of room and the mount didn't seem to have any difficulty. "What is your name?" he asked the woman before they set off. "Surely you can tell me that much." "I am known as Vekla," she said as her mount sprang into action. Leaving the others behind, the warrior at the reigns of the hasuan Syler and Bronwyn were on let out a cry and they were off faster than the wind.

Here we go, the prologue to this little baby. I am trying out some new things to see how they work out. As this is a short story and not a novel, I will probably only have about three to four active characters. The focus (at least after the prologue sets things up), will be mostly on action with only one major plot, so don't expect any truly deep subplots. I generally consider myself good at multiple layers and plots, but this will be a single plot deal or it may turn into the bastard prequel that I never planned on or wanted. Anyone reading this will NEED to see the map or you will likely be lost in the flurry of locations mentioned here. The map can be found at this link. _______________ Prologue Not all is as it seems. On initial inspection of the situation, one would believe that the Sei were finished, doomed to be overrun by their southern neighbors. In a brilliant move that required precise timing and impeccable foresight, the great Koshi General Agmas sent three armies from three different locations to ravage the Kingdom of the Sei. A sizeable force of cavalry descended from the Kredat Hills along the western border to distract the bulk of the Seinari, the Sei's professional standing army. While the Seinari were busy chasing down the raiding cavalry, a second, much larger army set out from the Jarvaliis Highlands along the southern border. That army surprised and overwhelmed the patrols along the border and managed to storm the city of Asperi Sei with little resistance. When King Mortuthan scrambled conscript forces to liberate Asperi Sei, General Agmas and his third and largest army hit them from the flanks by advancing across Kosh Lake and catching them in the open. With nothing between him and the fortress city of Buteas Sei, Agmas personally organized a siege. Hoping to catch the Koshi by surprise and lift the siege, the Seinari that had been chasing down Agmas' cavalry in the west attempted to cross the Lower Mastar River that ran along the western side of Buteas Sei by night. It was a total disaster. Spies within the Seinari had alerted Agmas of the maneuver and his men were waiting. Of the twenty thousand Seinari that attempted to cross the river, only three thousand were able to make it back. The rest were slaughtered to the last man. Buteas Sei fell just two weeks later and the streets ran red for days. In just forty days, the Koshi had conquered more land than they had been able to in four hundred years of sporadic warfare. The Kingdom of the Sei had no military force between Agmas and the capital, Kasas Sei. King Mortuthan was preparing to evacuate to See Sei and negotiate a terms in hopes of being able to retake the lands at a later date, but Agmas was not that sort of man. He was the sort of man who wanted it all and right now, it was all within his grasp. But, as I so often like to say, not all is as it seems. I am Wizard Norquen Xaretines of the Coalition of Balance, and I leave this journal to those who will come after me so that they may learn to see things not as they seem, but to see things as they can make them be. Village of Praten Kingdom of the Sei 2E 156 You could see the smoke from here. Everyone knew what it was and what it meant, but nobody dared to speak it aloud. The Koshi were coming and they would burn anything in their path just as they had Buteas Sei. Anyone who lived in that path would be left to starve or freeze to death in the winter with no food or shelter. The Koshi weren't interested in the wellbeing of the Sei, just their land and resources. The villagers didn't like me much, but that wasn't my problem. They were suspicious of anyone from the Coalition, and I didn't blame them. When the Coalition arrived, it was usually because something had gone terribly wrong in the Great Balance. You see, the Coalition of Balance was not beholden to any king, we were independent and sovereign. We were a group of accomplished warriors and arcane practitioners who understood that in order for the West to survive against the rising power of the East, there had to be some sort of balance. No one kingdom could take over the rest and grow too powerful lest they gain the notice of the Angvardi Empire or the new Kingdom of Terula. It was best for all if the Easterners were left to fight between themselves, and they were content to do so as long as there was no threat to them from the West. The Coalition had tact assurances from both parties that as long as no Western kingdom grew too powerful, they would keep their focus in the East. So whenever one kingdom grew too powerful or looked like it was on the verge of utterly destroying another, the Coalition stepped in. Sometimes, a careful word of warning whispered in the right ear was sufficient to ward off the threat. Other times, a simple assassination prevented the deaths of tens of thousands. On the rarest of occasions, the Coalition had to take far more direct action. This was one of those times. None of us had foreseen the speed by which General Agmas would overwhelm the Sei. Wars between the nations were frequent and had almost become a sport to the two of them. The Coalition worked quietly to ensure that neither side was able to successfully destroy the other and that those wars ended in a general stalemate. That strategy had seemed to work just fine up until now. When Agmas' forces took Asperi Sei, I suspected that this would not be any normal war. Agmas had been a young man in the last war, but he had accomplished great things. He had deftly climbed his way through the ranks of the Koshi armies until he was a commander of one of their banners, or what they call their battalions. Then, at the end of 2E 149 when most sane military commanders were setting up their winter camps, Agmas decided to take unilaterally take command of two other banners by disposing of their commanders and march all three straight into Sei territory. With nine thousand men at his back, he managed to surprise and overwhelm a Sei army sixteen thousand strong that had invaded Kosh. They battled for three days, after which the Sei withdrew back into their territory with a scant seven thousand men. For his part, Agmas lost only three thousand men while killing five thousand Sei and taking four thousand more as prisoners. His astounding victory was enough to not only get him pardoned for executing the other two commanders and disobeying orders, but to also get him labeled as a Hero of the People. He used his newfound power to gain control of the army and force the king to turn over most of the actual power in the kingdom to him. We should have seen the threat he was, but the Coalition was occupied at the time making sure the Tegas and the Susun's most recent disagreement didn't break out into war. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late to stop him. He was too well protected by his army to assassinate and there was no way to persuade him to stand down. The only alternative was to try to deal with him directly by intervening on the Sei's behalf. And so I was sent north into this rather dire situation and told to stop Agmas by any means possible. Weather delayed my arrival until it was too late. The other Coalition agents who had been in the area had already been killed or driven into hiding, I was the only one who could do anything at the moment. What was I given to work with? Not much, truthfully. The Sei employ a quirky system of military recruitment. They have the Seinari, their professional, standing army that is typically enough to deal with usual matters and at least delay any invasion until reinforcements could arrive. Those reinforcements came in the form of conscripted citizens from various cities and towns near the conflict. All able bodied men are required to train periodically throughout their lives so that when the need arises, they are at least semi-competent when it comes to fighting. The Seinari in that time typically numbered around thirty-eight thousand men scattered in various units called wings that each had a little over five thousand men in them. There were, at the start of the war, seven Wings of Seinari in the entire kingdom. By the time I got there, there were only four, and one of those was scattered throughout the western frontier and all but useless to us. The other three were guarding the borders from the Kutii and the Sua just in case one of them decided to take advantage of the situation, though I didn't think they would remain there for long. When your enemy has breached your lines and is slaughtering your vanguard, you don't hold back your reserves for fear that the enemy might have another force at your rear. Even if they did, you are doomed if the enemy shatters your line and guts you where you stand. Even if that doddering fool of a king, Mortuthan, decided to send in the rest of his army, that wasn't going to help me any at that point. Kasas Sei was all but undefended. If my sources were correct, then there was not more than two thousand men protecting its walls. If Kasas Sei fell to Agmas, then there would be no going back. He would be able to use his army to hold that city against any attacks that the Sei could launch against him. Once the Sei ran out of men to throw against the walls of their former capital, Agmas would open the gates and march out to conquer the entire kingdom. Back to my original point, I was left with next to nothing to save the entire kingdom. I had arrived too late to save the Seinari forces from their slaughter, but I had managed to get some help, if you could call it that. I had but four hundred conscripted men from a village called Praten that was about ten miles northeast of Buteas Sei. A battle hardened lot they were not, and they had no illusions otherwise. They were afraid, severely lacking in confidence, and ultimately, a complete disgrace to the typically competent Seinari. While standing there watching the smoke rise from Buteas Sei, I could not help but wonder if this was a fool's errand. Only the knowledge of what would happen should I fail kept me from throwing my hands up and leaving these whining peasants to their fate. The saddest, most infuriating thing of it all was that, as powerful a wizard as I was, I couldn't stop Agmas' hordes on my own. I needed them as much as they needed me.

The Angvardi invasion during the Unification Campaigns in 2E 1049 was not the first time that the Kingdom of the Sei has been invaded. Numerous times over the centuries, the Sei have faced invasions from all sides and not all of them went well for the Sei. The year is 2E 156 and the mighty armies of the Koshi general Agmas have invaded from the south. The once powerful bastion of Buteas Sei has fallen and with it, the Seinari have been crushed. Now nothing stands between Agmas' horde and the capital, Kasas Sei. That is, nothing except the shrewd wizard Xaretines and his small band of courageous peasants from Praten. . . _____________ Title: The Master of Magic: Not All Is As It Seems Rating: PG-13 Rated for: violence, language Critique level: Critique Requested This will be the first of (hopefully) several short stories set in the Master of Magic universe created by me. The first mention of Xaretines' tale was in the One Who Masters Magic when Havert briefly mentions it as one of the great heroic tales he so loves. I plan on containing this within 20,000 or so words, but with my record, it could quickly expand to more. I will be working on this slowly in conjunction with my editing of the first draft of the full novel. Nonetheless, I hope to have a chapter out every two weeks or so.

This is a drastically changed version of a couple pieces and parts of chapters from the original. The various additions in the past have really screwed up the chapters as they were, but I think after next chapter, they should be mostly on track. Not that it matters, but whatever. I decided to go a very, very drastic direction with this chapter. The travel time was extended (fitting in with the expanded size of the map and a few other factors), and I wanted to head somewhere different. I also wanted Syler to connect a bit with the prophecy that Uthas had (the reason why he cursed Bronwyn in the first place). Pay close attention to that part because it is quite telling about a few things that will reveal themselves later on. I changed up the whole meeting with Growald and gave us some more Syler and Lamastus vs Growald fun. Ultimately, I think this version flows far better and makes more sense than the previous one, plus it allows me to attempt a little more emotional connection with Syler. It comes into a complete circle with Fazei Crossing and how that place has effected Syler. We aren't done with that little crossroads, but I did want to add this part into it to help build up the later events that will take place there well down the road. ______________ Chapter 19 Magic does not always need to be directly cast on someone to work. Sometimes, it can be set at a particular location to be activated at a desired time or should a specific set of events happen. The magic lays dormant until preset circumstances trigger it. Such is how some magical wards, defenses, barriers, and even traps are made. — Primer in Static Magic by Battlemage Kaithas Fazei Crossing Angvardi Province of Sei September 21 It had been a long journey for the five of them. What should have been a journey of just a week and a half on horseback turned into a three week trek as they tried to avoid Angvardi patrols and scrape enough food together to survive. The longest delays were due to having to stop frequently so Syler could tend to Bronwyn. Syler was growing extremely worried about Bronwyn's condition. She had been fading in and out of consciousness throughout the journey and was clearly suffering. When she was conscious for those few precious minutes, she was not completely coherent. Worse, her wounds had grown infected despite Syler's every attempt to treat them. She had a fever that seemed to only be growing worse. He used all of his knowledge as a herbalist to find various leaves and roots and stems to make simple poultices that he could apply, but it was not easy since he wasn't familiar with the plains of Kutii territory or eastern Sei. It didn't take long to run out of fresh cloth for bandages and wrapping the poultices. The constant traveling was not good for her at all, and at one point, he insisted that they stop for half the day to rest just for her sake. Syler kept them going in the hopes that they could arrive in Sandrin and find help for her. If Fitno the Blacksmith was still alive, he would help them and give them a place to hide. Once they could rest, Bronwyn's weak body could recover. Riding as they were and sleeping a scant few hours each night on the cold, hard ground were clearly not helping. Once they were nearer to home, Syler would be back among the familiar hills he had grown up roaming and could find them food. More importantly, he would know what grew in those parts and could make potions and poultices to help her recover and have the time to allow them to take effect. But doubt constantly plagued his thoughts. Even if he did get her, to Sandrin, it would be weeks or months before she could recover, assuming she could at all. To his great alarm, she didn't seem to be healing at all. Even minor cuts and bruises didn't heal like they should have. She was clearly suffering and that suffering seemed to only get worse as her body grew weaker from lack of proper food and exercise. More than once, he found himself interrogating Lamastus on everything he knew about magic because he had the suspicion that whatever curse had been placed on her prevented her body from healing naturally. The Angvardi was always willing to answer any question, even if he had answered it multiple times before, but he wasn't able to be very helpful. He was a common soldier, not a mage, so his knowledge of magic was limited. As the days passed, Syler feared that even if they did arrive safely to Sandrin, she would never recover fully. He feared that he would never see her lively smile or have her working beside him at the forge eager to learn. His heart ached for those simple days of shared hard work and being able to simply talk to her and show her what he knew. Despite being a woman, she took well to smithing and never complained at the hardships, even when the pain forced her to tears each night. Each time he looked at her pale and broken face, a little bit of that dream died. He had failed her yet again. He couldn't prevent her from being taken, he couldn't rescue her quick enough, he couldn't heal her, and he couldn't relieve her pain. All of it wore on him and put him more on edge than he should have been. Almost every moment of every day was spent clutching her close to him to keep the curse at bay. He wasn't sure if he would wake up one morning and find that she was dead in his arms. The constant worry over her gave him a short temper and an almost constant headache from the lack of decent sleep. The others knew it and gave him a lot of leeway and understanding even when he snapped at them over something trivial. He didn't know how long he could endure things like this before he lost his mind. Food was scarce as well. The meager supplies that Growald's men had prepared were hardly enough to last them three days. It didn't help that they had an extra mouth to feed with Lamastus having joined them. Water was in short supply because people tended to be around the few streams that ran through Kutiim and they needed to be careful not to be spotted. They weren't starving, but they barely were able to eat enough to keep them going. Lamastus, for his part, proved to be more of a help than a hindrance in this area. He was surprisingly knowledgeable at building snares to trap rabbits and other small prey overnight. More than once, they were able to have fresh meat for breakfast because of his snares. He also knew more about Angvardi patrol routes than any of them and helped them avoid attention. Once, he was able to go into a Kutii village and in his guard uniform, bought them some food and bandages with the money Syler had brought with him. There wasn't much there to begin with and Lamastus didn't want to arouse suspicions by buying too much, so that food only lasted them a few days. The nights seemed to grow colder and colder, but Syler wasn't sure if that was because of the temperature or their exhaustion. It had been getting colder earlier this year than normal, but that didn't always explain it. Even curled up with Bronwyn to share some body heat, he was never able to get warm or comfortable. He was hardly able to get sleep and frequently took watch duty so the others could. They protested at first, but as the journey wore on, their complaints grew fewer and less fervent. Despite going farther and farther west away from Kubei, Syler still had the feeling that they were being followed. There was a nervousness that enveloped the entire party to the point that they were constantly looking behind them expecting a patrol to be there chasing them down. That edginess took its toll making all of their tempers short and easily provoked. While Havert and Alltis seemed to get along well enough and spent most of their time riding next to each other and talking in quiet conversation, there was a definite rift between Havert and the others. He had Lamastus had never been particularly close, so there wasn't any real friendship there. Havert didn't trust an Angvardi and avoided him wherever possible. Lamastus was cordial enough with both of them, but didn't really attempt to start conversations with either of them. While Havert didn't verbally question Syler's decision to accept the Angvardi into their party, Syler sensed that he didn't quite welcome him. Not only was Havert at odds with Lamastus, but he was distant with Syler as well. He hadn't yet forgiven him for killing the unarmed priest back in the Temple. Syler didn't mind much because he still hadn't forgotten how Havert's ineptitude had nearly gotten him killed on that first night. Alltis didn't want to be caught in the middle, but had no choice. She wouldn't betray her husband, but neither did she want to abandon Bronwyn. On their frequent stops, she was always there to help tend to Bronwyn in ways that Syler didn't feel comfortable doing. She tried to remain friendly, but was clearly not happy with the dissension in their party. Syler and Lamastus got along well enough. With Havert and Alltis spending most of their time together and Bronwyn unable to speak, that meant that he had plenty of time to talk with the Angvardi. He often helped Syler get Bronwyn up and down from his horse and was fascinated by his feeble attempts to heal her. He explained that healing and potion making had never been a strong point of his, but that he was eager to learn. Syler was glad to show him a few things such as how to properly clean and dress a wound and some of the basic herbal remedies he could find. The days of travel offered their tense moments, but most of the time, everyone managed to keep cordial enough to prevent fights from breaking out. Knowing that there was no way for them to make the scheduled rendezvous Growald had set up at the Eastern Watchtower, they didn't even bother. Syler wasn't too sure he wanted to get entangled with the soldier, anyway. The man had his own motives and he didn't share them with any of their party. In this, Lamastus agreed with Syler wholeheartedly. Even if he was willing to abandon his people to help a friend, he wasn't about to join an active rebellion against them. Havert continued to voice his desire to join up with the Seinari and spent an entire afternoon arguing with Syler and Lamastus. The argument was going nowhere until Alltis stepped up and voiced her concern over getting entangled in further fighting. Her opposition clearly deflated Havert because he quickly dropped the issue and never brought it up again. Since they didn't know their way back to Sandrin, they decided to simply head west until they hit the Mastar River. The river cut down the middle of Sei and was a point of reference for Syler and Havert. From there, they worked south until they came across a familiar site, one that Syler really didn't want to see again. "It sure does look different, don't it?" mumbled Havert as they looked out over the fields of Fazei Crossing. Instead of sprawling camps, fireballs being hurled into the sky, and tens of thousands of men fighting and dying, there were only fields and grasses. Instead of the clash of steel, the stamping of hooves, and the cries of the wounded, only the wind rustled over the hills. The place where their lives had been changed forever looked peaceful and serene, just as though nothing had happened here. The roads had been repaired and the bridge rebuilt just like they were before the battle. The only thing that seemed truly changed were the watchtowers and fortifications guarding the bridge from the other side of the river. As they crested a hill, they caught sight of multiple tendrils of smoke curling up from across the river. A small stone tower stood on either side of the bridge and a series of small wooden outposts ran across the area of the river that was fordable. With the amount of smoke they were seeing, there must have been scores of bonfires to provide light even in the darkest of nights. The Angvardi knew the importance of this crossing and had decided to leave a guard over the only bridge and only safe crossing point for scores of miles. To try to cross in daylight would be suicidal, and they weren't sure of finding a safe crossing for possibly three or four more days in the wrong direction. The only way to have a chance would be to try to swim across one of the deeper parts of the river, and that would be impossible with Bronwyn being unconscious. By the sudden silence that overtook the party, Syler knew the others realized this. None of them had expected this. With bitterness souring the back of his tongue, Syler turned back and started off for the battlefield once more. After a few dozen yards, he slid off his horse and took the reins to walk the distance of the battlefield. Seeming to sense what type of mood Syler was in, Lamastus maneuvered his horse up next to them so he could keep watch on Bronwyn. Havert, adopting a rarely somber attitude, quickly joined Syler on the ground. They were far enough from the watchtower not to be seen, so for the moment, it was moderately safe. With nothing but utter defeat and hopelessness weighing him down, Syler's shoulders sagged and his head drooped to the ground. Now that he was looking more closely at the ground, he noticed the scars where fire and magic had ripped into the soil and had not yet fully healed. Occasionally, they came across a broken arrow or a small piece of broken, twisted armor. They didn't see any bones, but they did eventually come across the graves, thousands of them. They weren't marked and grass had began to cover them, but they were obvious enough. Row upon row of little mounds gave testament to the bodies beneath the ground. In absolute silence, the two on foot led the others to the hillside where they made their stand for their country. The grass and shrubs had grown back up and the blood had soaked into the ground. The bodies that had once dotted the hillside were gone, as were the broken spears and the writing wounded. All the was left of the battle were a few patches of bare ground that nature had not yet managed to reclaim. War had come here and done its worse, but now it was over and there was nothing to show for it. It was peaceful once again, the horror seemed gone. There was nothing remarkable about this place, yet Syler couldn't stop the tears from dripping down his cheek nor force his hand to stop shaking. This was where he had seen so many give their all for king and country, only to die or suffer humiliating defeat. Standing here with the cool wind blowing in his face, Syler felt that his world had ended at this very place. Everything he had once had was lost here. What he had gained since then had been threatened and all but destroyed. For a time, he had thought that he had found something in Kubei worth living for and had a plan to get his sister, but that had been shattered when Shalktra boots destroyed his front door. Now, even that preciously tenuous new life had been destroyed and the woman he loved was dying despite all of his efforts. They were on a desperate race to get back to Sandrin, but all of them knew it was nothing but a fool's errand. They couldn't hide from the mighty army from the East, nobody could. Syler took his eyes off the ground so that he could look up at his unconscious wife slumped in the saddle. He couldn't deceive himself any longer, not in this place. There was nothing he could do for her, even if they got back to Sandrin and could rest. The curse was too powerful and she was suffering even with his touch. Every moment she was semi-conscious, it was clear she was in great agony. Even when she wasn't, she moaned from the mere effort of living. He was worn out, exhausted, and at his last straw. They had fought their way across the countryside, but it simply wasn't enough. Syler wished that he could have seen it earlier, but he was too stubborn. Just as he had been too stubborn to see his love for Bronwyn, he was too stubborn now to admit that it was all over. It took coming back to these wretched fields for him to see that. He could go no farther like this. He couldn't let Bronwyn suffer any more when there was no hope. It was cruel to force her to stay alive when she had no way to recover, no way to escape the pain she was in. Back in the Temple at Kubei, she had forced him to swear that he wouldn't let her be recaptured. It was the horror and the pain she was wanting to avoid, yet he was holding her just as captive by keeping her alive in her unending agony. It was his selfishness that kept him from letting her go into the peace of death. What better place to end it than here, where so many others had died? She would have company, at least, in the afterlife. He wasn't entirely sure what the Kutii believed regarding where their spirits went after death, but he would hope that it was somewhere warm, peaceful, and happy. Bronwyn deserved as much, after what she had endured. Something was there, whispering in his heart. Something was telling him that it was time, that he had to do what needed to be done. He knew this, and it nearly killed him. He could no longer let the woman he loved suffer like this, but to end that suffering would mean forever cutting a piece of his heart out and leaving it behind. Could he do it? Did he love her enough to save her from the agony even if that meant taking that agony upon himself? Did he love her enough to let her go into peace? Standing there in the middle of the battlefield where his life fell apart, he answered those questions. His vision was blurry as he pulled his wife carefully off their horse. He laid her down and cradled her head in his lap, looking at her one last time. Nobody spoke a word as they watched his grief, not knowing how to respond. He remained there for several minutes whispering to her and wishing that things had been different. When he was ready, he smoothed the remnants of her tattered hair out and slowly pulled out his knife. Before he could plunge it into her heart and end her suffering, a strong hand grabbed his wrist. With a single move, Syler felt pain in his hand and realized he no longer had the knife. "Ya don't want ta do that, Syler," said Havert. Syler hadn't heard him get off his horse, but there he was, standing behind him with tears of his own streaking down his cheeks. "There's gotta be another way. It can't end, not like this." "It has to," replied Syler through clenched teeth. "This isn't any way for her to live, and I am not going to leave her to the curse." "Leave him be," commanded Lamastus from atop his horse. "There are times when it is a mercy to put the injured out of their misery when there is no hope for saving them." "No," the redhead said firmly. "I ain't gonna let ya do this. There's always hope while she breathes." Lamastus shook his head sadly as he gestured with his free hand to the battlefield around them. "Look around you! There is nowhere else to go. She won't make it across that river and we all know it. Drowning is not a pleasant way to go. Better it be a quick and sure jab of a sharp knife. That is how I would want to go." Alltis was livid when she interjected, "I can't believe we are discussing this! We haven't come all this way to simply give up here! Take her to some other place where there are mages and wizards who can lift the curse." With a sigh, Syler responded numbly, "We can't take the risk of being spotted." "We're willin' ta take that risk, Syler," shot Havert. "That's our choice, not yers." "Is there any place we can go that might have wizards?" asked Alltis. Syler thought for a few moments before saying, "Kasas Sei had most of our wizards, but that was before the Angvardi invaded. Besides, it is over a hundred miles south of here and will likely be closely watched." Lamastus nodded in agreement, "There is an entire legion garrisoned there. That is twelve thousand men, plus a few battalions of cavalry to serve as patrols. It is not a place we want to go." "Surely there is some other place we can go," Alltis urged. "Naw, love," mumbled Havert. "There ain't likely to be no other places with actual wizards in them other than maybe See Sei or Asperi Sei, and both o' them are far outs our reach. Alltis balled her fist and pounded helplessly against the side of her horse, "We can't just kill Brownyn." "You think I want to do this!" exclaimed Syler. "I love her, more than anything. I want to save her, I truly do, but I can't bear to see her suffer like this anymore. Let her go to her Spirits and be at peace." He made a grab at the knife in Havert's hand, but wasn't able to get to it before his spry friend jumped back. "No, I ain't gonna give it ta ya." "What if this were Alltis suffering here like this?" pleaded Syler. Havert's entire face hardened. "Then I would fight ta the end 'till there warn't nothin' I could do ta save her. Ya haven't done everything yet, and ya know it." "Damn you, Havert!" Syler said as he lunged at his friend. They tussled for control of the knife, much to Alltis' dismay. She got off her horse and tried to break them up, but only ended up getting pushed aside by the two men. A new voice, one full of bemusement, made everyone freeze in shock. "Do you fight with all of your friends?" Even Lamastus seemed surprised at the sudden arrival of another person because he cried out in alarm and frantically grabbed for his sword. "Don't bother, Angvardi," the newcomer said. "I ain't here to hurt ya—yet." "Growald!" exclaimed Syler from the ground where Havert had him pinned. "What are you doing here?" Clearly not believing what the Seinari had said, Lamastus finally got his sword out and was in a ready position. Only then did he realize that Growald was hardly alone, but that the five of them were surrounded by a couple dozen armed men in dirty but functional looking armor. "What is this?" he demanded. Growald ignored Lamastus as he focused his attention onto Syler. "I am trying to find you, of course." "How did you find us? You should have been off fighting your own little war by now." By way of an answer, Growald dug out a piece of paper from under his left sleeve and tossed it in front of Syler's face. "Havert, let Syler there up so he can take a look." "Er, yes sir," stumbled Havert as he quickly obeyed. When Syler opened the paper, he saw a map of the region. The first thing he noticed was several small glowing dots. He squinted in the dim evening light and frowned in confusion when he saw that, while there were dots scattered around the map, the ones in Kubei and Fazei Crossing were brighter and more intense. "I don't get it," he said. "Go over and touch your wife," Growald suggested. Realizing belatedly that her pain would return at any moment, Syler didn't resist and did as he was told while keeping an eye on the map. As soon as he touched Bronwyn, the glowing mark near Fazei Crossing dimmed. His brow furrowed and he blinked several times. Realization dawned and his eyes widened in fear. Just to be sure, he let go of Bronwyn and the light returnd to its original brightness. Touching her again caused the light to fade once more. "This is us!" he exclaimed while pointing to the mark that was theirs. "Of course it is," said Growald smugly. He jerked his thumb at Lamastus and continued, "Found it on one of this one's friends and decided to get to you before someone else did. He and a squad of Angvardi tried to jump us near Bomhada. Unfortunately for them, we had managed to meet up with some of my compatriots, so instead of a dozen or so tired travelers, they came upon half a company of righteously infuriated Seinari soldiers." He grinned mercilessly, "They didn't like the reception we gave 'em." "You mean you slaughtered them," said Lamastus in a low, menacing voice. At this, Growald laughed heartily. "Of course I did. They were all invaders in me land, so I killed him just as he would have done to meself or Bronwyn or Syler here." He clucked his tongue at Lamastus who was still standing with his sword at the ready. "Speaking of which, you are an Angvardi, so why shouldn't I kill you and be done with your ilk?" "Because I say you can't," said Syler forcefully. "Lamastus has been a friend of mine and has saved my life on more than one occasion." "A man can save you one day, only to kill you the next," Growald pointed out. "He wouldn't do that," insisted Syler. "I trust him." Growald snorted and turned his head briefly to spit on the ground. "You are a fool to trust an Angvardi, they are nothing but vile snakes." "Not all of us are the same," Lamastus said in his defense. "I value my friends and despise the brutality that went on in that Temple. I left behind those murderers and have thrown my lot in with Syler." "Did ya now? That is most amusing, truly, but I don't buy it." "You aren't going to kill him, Growald," Syler said defiantly. "I don't know why you keep following me, but if you ever want me to work with you again, you will not harm Lamastus." Growald's fist tightened around the hilt of his own sword, but he only worked his jaw a bit and left it in its scabbard. "You are constantly trying my patience, boy, that can be a dangerous thing." "No more dangerous than trying my patience," retorted Syler, though he didn't quite know where the impulse to stand up so brazenly against an armed man with dozens of followers came from. At this, Growald's eyes narrowed, though not in anger. Syler couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he could have sworn that there was a trace of fear in his look. He passed it off as exhaustion and the dim light. At last, Growald responded, "Very well then. He is your mistake to make, but if he ever crosses me, I will kill him without second thought." "You can try," Lamastus said. "I am not so easy to kill." This time, it was definitely anger that flashed across Growald's eyes. "Pray to your pagan gods that you never have to find out, Angvardi." His use of the word "Angvardi" was even more bile filled and dismissive than when he called Syler "boy." Clearly, Syler realized, the two of them would never be friends. "What is it that brought you here after me?" asked Syler. "Don't say it is because you miss my company." "Hardly, but you might still have a purpose yet." Syler's brow arched, "And what might that be? I told you, I am not going to fight in your war." "No," Growald sighed, "I suppose you won't. But, I thought you would like to discover exactly why it was that your touch not only prevents your woman from writhing in pain, but also conceals your presence on that map." With a shrug, Syler said, "I don't know, but I don't think I am willing to pay your price to find out." At this, the soldier chuckled. "You haven't even heard my offer, boy." "Don't play with me, what is it you want?" Growald leaned forward and whispered, "What I want is just as much a benefit for me as it is for you." "What does that mean?" Alltis asked. Growald smiled grimly. "It means, sweet Alltis, that there was a trap set for whomever would come to get Bronwyn here. At least, I am pretty sure it was Bronwyn. I can't think of anyone else whom they would want to keep tabs on. One of my more magically gifted friends did some verification spells on me and found that it is a tracer, one spread by contact with the target. While she was a captive, someone must have put the spell upon her alongside the curse just in case the curse didn't work. "It was likely activated as soon as we left the Temple. Anyone who has touched Bronwyn since she was freed has been marked and the Angvardi have a map that leads straight to us. Fortunately, it is not a chain tracer spell. That means that only those who have had direct physical contact with the girl will show up on the map, but not everyone they might touch. If that was the case, it might have spread too quickly and made it more difficult to find her because of the number of dots." Lamastus swore under his breath. "You sure it was Governor Uthas who did this and not the Shalktra?" he asked. Growald grunted and shrugged his shoulders, "It was definitely Angvardi that came for us, not Shalktra." "The other guards were furious at what the Terulans were doing," Lamastus pointed out. "Why would they take part in something like this?" "Just because you claim to have a change of heart don't mean that Uthas is all soft and peace lovin'. That man is even more slippery than the normal Angvardi, and he has his fingers a little too deeply into things that they don't need to be in." "Maybe, but I think that is beside the point," Syler said. "I don't care what games Uthas is playing. We need to find a way to counter this spell before they track us down." He looked over at Growald and grimaced, "I suppose you contracted the tracer when you were inspecting Bronwyn." Growald nodded and said, "That I did. The other dots there must have been some of the women who touched her at some point. Their mistake, cause I wager that most, if not all, will be rounded up shortly." "Then you are doing this for yourself," Syler said accusingly. He didn't deny it, but waved the attack away. "Not entirely for meself, but I will admit, I don't like the thought of that magic being on me." "How do we counter this spell?" "There is only one way I know of to do that," said Growald with a fiendish looking smile. "That is why I had to find you." Syler rolled his eyes, "Why? Because you enjoy me beating you to a pulp?" "No, boy, because you are the only one who can counter the spell with our current resources. An experienced wizard could do it, and perhaps maybe an extraordinarily strong mage, but we don't have either at our disposal." "I don't have any magical ability, so why do you think I could do it?" Syler was getting a bad feeling about this. His doubts and distrust of Growald were resurfacing. "Syler Penion, if only everyone could be as naively foolish as you. Do you think it is a coincidence that your touch banishes the curse or that, when people touch you, their tracer light vanishes? If we were all to touch you right now, our dot would completely disappear and would remain so as long as we are in contact." Syler had wondered why it was him, but he didn't have any idea how to figure out why. Even if he did, there were other, more important things to consider. He wanted to know, but he knew better than to let Growald know that he had leverage. His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered. "So what? I am special, what does that do for me?" "If you want to know, then come with me," Growald snapped. "I can take you to those who will answer your questions and just might even keep you and your wife safe from the Easterners. If you don't care about that, then by all means, stay here and wait for the Angvardi to hunt you down." "Why should we go anywhere with you?" "Because," he responded with a shrug, "quite simply, if you don't, then you will die. That map isn't a fake and I have already bet my life that it isn't the only copy. Until you can get that spell off of your friends, you won't be safe. There could be hundreds of men already on your trail. Unless you were willing to abandon your wife and friends, they will find you and they will kill you." "And what about my sister?" said Syler defiantly. "I am not going to leave her behind." "You are from Sandrin, right?" asked Growald. When Syler nodded, he continued, "All of the single women from Sandrin were taken into the Sua territories just like we were taken to Kutiim. I don't know where exactly, but I do know she isn't in Sandrin. You would never be able to find her with the Shalktra hunting you down." For a moment, Syler wondered if the other man was lying just to get him to do what he wanted. While he was thinking, Lamastus spoke up, "How do you know that? I have been trying to find out where they took Karusa for months now." "I know because I went to Sandrin and talked to those left behind." "What would make you do that?" asked Lamastus. "'Cause I needed Syler's help and figured that the best way to get that help was to do something to get him to trust me. What better way to do that than to get his long lost sister? I knew that he and Havert were from Sandrin, so I wanted to go and get his sister so he wouldn't have any reason not to come with me." Syler had to admit, it was a plausible story. Still, Growald didn't do anything without an ulterior motive, and he was too tired to continue this dance for much longer. "What is your game here?" Growald spread his hands out in front of him palm up and said, "No game. If you want to live, you need to get that tracer off of you. If you want to do that, you need to come with me." With a snarl of frustration, Syler pounded his hand into his fist. "We need to talk this over in private," he said. "Give us some privacy so we can discuss this amongst ourselves." Growald nodded and motioned for his men to withdraw. With clear hesitation, the others followed him a few dozen yards away from the others. "What do you think, should we go with him or not?" Syler said. "I am not your leader and won't make the decision for you." "I don't like him one bit," Lamastus said quickly. Now that Growald was nowhere near, he felt comfortable enough to sheathe his sword. "Beside the fact that he would love nothing more than to kill me, you told me what he did to you last month at Havert's party. From what I heard tonight, he sounds like a man who cares only about himself and is pretty good at manipulating people to do his bidding." "He ain't a bad man," interjected Havert. "He may be rough and a bit crude, but he knows what he is doin'. Admit it, Syler, if it warn't for him, ya wouldn't ha' gotten Bronwyn out of that dungeon." "True, I did need him," Syler admitted. "Don't think that was for me, though, he did it because he wanted to kill the Easterners." "He helped ya get out of Kubei," Havert pointed out. "He didn't need ta do that." "Yes, that much is true, but there is something about him I really don't like. I can't put my finger on it, but he has an agenda and I am not sure it is in our best interest." Lamastus said, "He is a thug, a brute just like the Shalktra just with a different uniform." Syler arched his eyebrow and gave the Angvardi a sideways glance, "I wouldn't go that far. I have yet to see him torture or rape anyone." "From what I heard, that is exactly what he was going to do to Bronwyn after that fight if you hadn't laid him flat," Lamastus shot back. "He wasn't going to do that, " Havert said. "Nobody there would have let him do anything to her." "I wouldn't have put it past him to try, though," Syler said, agreeing with Lamastus. "Right now, though, we need to figure out what we are going to do now. I am against going with him, it would be foolish to trust him. He could easily be trying to lead us into a trap hoping to bargain for his own freedom by trading us to the Shalktra." "That wouldn't surprise me," Lamastus said bitterly. "What about you, Alltis?" asked Syler. She didn't look comfortable in speaking up, but once Syler put her on the spot, she had no choice. "Growald has done nothing against us so far, I would trust him. He has men and resources we don't have and he clearly has a plan. That is more than we have right now." "Yea, if that plan doesn't involve us ending up face down in the dirt," muttered Lamastus. "Hey, I have worked with the guy plenty o' times and he hadn't put a knife in ma back," said Havert. Syler didn't like it one bit and had been hoping that Alltis would side with him. Now, the group was split evenly. Lamastus clearly hated the idea of going with Growald even more than he himself did. If he refused Growald's offer and left, he wasn't sure if Havert and Alltis would join him. Havert had always been enthralled by the Seinari sergeant, and right now, traveling with those men was bound to be easier and safer than traveling with a disabled Bronwyn. It wouldn't even be that he liked Growald more or didn't like Syler. After all, he had his own future and family to look after, what with his unborn child to consider. As they were pondering what to do at this impasse, Bronwyn began to stir a little beside him. He turned his focus to her to see what was happening. To his shock, she started trying to say something. He bent down to put his ear next to her mouth. When he heard what she whispered, his face turned pale. "What is it?" asked Alltis. Syler didn't respond for a few seconds. When he did, he said meekly, "Bronwyn wants to go with Growald." "What!" Lamastus exclaimed. "You are joking with us, aren't you?" The ashen look on Syler's face said he wasn't. "No, I am not. She must have been somewhat conscious, because she just said that we need to go with Growald. She mentioned him by name. I can hardly believe it myself." "Of all the…" Lamastus said in frustration. "All this time she hasn't said a single word, then out of nowhere, she decides to wake up and support Growald?" "Did she say anything else?" asked Alltis. Syler shook his head. "Just that we need to go with him, then she fell back into unconsciousness." "What are you going to do?" Lamastus demanded to know. Syler truly didn't know. He had not wanted to go with Growald, but hearing Bronwyn speak for the first time in three weeks had shaken him, especially after what he had planned to do to her just a short time ago. If she had thought it was worth it to spend the energy to speak at this point after all else they had been through, who was he to dismiss her? "Well," he thought aloud, "if Bronwyn somehow mustered the strength to say something, it had to be pretty important. She is a seer, remember? Perhaps this is the result of one of her visions." "So I guess we are goin' with him?" said Havert with timid hope. Syler nodded his head, much to Lamastus' dismay. Still, the Angvardi said nothing else and didn't argue when Syler called out for Growald to return. For a moment, Syler was worried that he might leave on his own, but he was still right behind them when he looked back. "So, did you decide to join us?" Growald asked with a knowing smile. Syler's previously pale face flushed with anger. His eyes shot daggers at the man. "First, I have a question." Growald spread his hands apart at his sides in an inviting gesture. "Ask away, boy." "You said you went to Sandrin, and you were at Bomhada. You have been quite traveled in the three weeks since we fled Kubei. How is it that you could get to Sandrin and back so rapidly?" "We were on good horses, and we weren't burdened by an unconscious woman who needed constant care," Growald replied. "Truthfully, you travel slower than a caravan of pregnant women." "That doesn't explain it all," pressed Syler. With a roll of his eyes, Growald continued, "We used a ferry to get across Lake Mastal. The Seinari have friends in many places. Once we got to Sandrin, I realized that she was beyond our grasp and headed straight to you. I figured you were headin' for Fazei so we came straight here." With suspicion clear on his face, Lamastus asked hesitantly, "But the army controls the ford, how did you cross?" Growald's predatory smile returned to his face as he looked square into Lamstus' eyes. "We killed the Angvardi at the tower and went across the bridge." "What!" exclaimed Lamastus. "You didn't think that all them fires were just to keep a good eye on things, did ya?" bragged Growald. He was clearly relishing the anger that was clear on Lamastus' face. "Okay, so you killed everyone there, we didn't hear any battles," said Syler. "We killed them this afternoon, before you got here. Lost a bunch of men, but not as many as we could have. The Angvardi here are lax in comparison to the front lines. So," he said with a clap of his hands, "did that answer your question all good and proper like?" "I suppose so," muttered Syler. "Excellent, so again, are you going to be joining us?" Though he hated himself for saying it, Syler replied, "Yes, it seems that we are. Now, where are we going?" "You will know when we get there," Growald said. He motioned for his men to mount up. "No, that isn't how this is going to work," Syler said with a set jaw. "I want to know where we are going or we don't move another inch." Growald and Syler stared each other down for a few moments before the bearded man shrugged and said, "Okay, the only place I know that neither the Angvardi nor the Shalktra would dare to go is the Subeleth Woods." "Are you insane!" exclaimed Syler. "That is Krue territory. It is suicide to go there, they would kill us all." "Not entirely," Growald said with another one of his odd smiles. "They are a reasonable people; you just have to have something they want." "And what is that?" "Why you of course." Syler's sword was in his hand and he heard Lamastus draw his. "I knew it, you double crossing lying bastard! You just want me so you can hand me over to them in exchange for their lifting the tracer on you!" "Calm down, boy. I am not using you as bait. Think before you open your mouth, for once in your life. Why did the Shalktra nab your pretty little wife?" Before Syler could speak, Growald interrupted him, "No, don't speak, listen and understand. There is only so much of your ignorance I can stomach. They took her because she was a seer, and not just any seer. She was a Kutii seer. "I know that might not mean much to you, but it clearly does to those Shalktra bookworm butchers, enough so that they sent hundreds of men a very long way just to find her. Did the pretty lady not say how they interrogated her asking questions about you, boy? Now, think for just a moment here, why would they want to do that? What is it about you that would make them so curious about you?" When he didn't continue, Syler took that as an opening to answer. "I don't know, I am just a blacksmith." Growald slapped his head theatrically in frustration. "We are doomed, truly. We are all doomed. Boy, I am so extremely grateful to the almighty Elements that I am not the one who has to explain everything to you because if I was, I would probably run myself through with me own sword. All I will say is that there is something about you that makes you very special to a lot of people. The Easterners aren't the only ones who know about magic and special things. The Krue do as well, and I am willing to bet my life that they will not kill us and will in truth, be your best friends." "You are mad," Syler said after it was clear Growald was done ranting. "You are absolutely, totally mad." With another exaggerated sigh, Growald asked, "If I am so mad, tell me why it is that your wife is afflicted with an incurable spell that leaves her in agony beyond comprehension, yet is inexplicably cured the exact moment you touch her?" Syler blinked a few times and sat back in his saddle. He had been wondering the same thing ever since they were in Kubei, but he had come to no conclusions. "You know why, don't you?" "I have my suspicions, but that isn't for me to decide. If anyone is to know for sure, it is the Krue. Besides, if there is anywhere that the Shalktra or the Angvardi won't be likely to travel, it is Subeleth. They fear the Krue just as much as we do." With a glance at Bronwyn, Syler asked, "Do you think they can help her?" Growald shrugged, "They have powerful wielders of magic and wise healers. It is possible they may know something that can help her, but I don't know." Syler wasn't buying it, but right now, they didn't have much of a choice. From the news the priests so proudly proclaimed in Kubei, the Angvardi had completely subjugated the Sua and were on the verge of conquering the Kosh. There just wasn't anywhere they could go that wouldn't be full of people looking for them. If it wasn't the Angvardi using the map, it would be the Shalktra still hunting for Bronwyn and probably himself. With a long sigh, Syler sheathed his sword and said through gritted teeth, "It looks like we are going to the Krue."

Fixed that error. At this point, I once again split up a chapter. I decided to take the small break in events during which Syler and Co travel toward his hometown to cover a bit of Prophet Aitin's journey. I mentioned at the start of this draft that I wanted to feature more of the minor characters and this is Aitin's first big segment. And big it is, coming down at over 3500 words, I think it is the largest single portion dedicated to him to date. It is also critical in that gives clues (while still leaving plenty of mystery) as to what exactly it is that he is doing running around Terula. I tried out some new things in his segment, things that if they go over well here I will probably add to later passages. Let me know what you think. I would also like to point out that in Teladia, the years are exactly 360 days long and each month is evenly divided into 30 days, so there is no August 31 and the story goes straight from the events in the last chapter (which happened on August 30) into events that happen here (September 1). __________________ Chapter 18 In response to numerous inquiries about the whereabouts of many of our beloved priests, Governor Uthas wishes to inform you that they have been sent to the Western Campaigns to help minister to our glorious armies. Their summons were urgent and they regretted that they could not say any goodbyes. — Official announcement from Governor Uthas' office in Kubei Wilderness northwest of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kutiim September 1 When they could go no farther, Syler finally ordered a stop. With Kubei miles behind them and no sign of pursuit, it was as good a time to get some sleep as any. There was no complaints from Havert or Alltis, so they wearily dismounted their captured horses and took stock of their supplies. Their escape from Kubei had been mostly as planned. As promised, Growald's man in the stables had arranged everything and their group had managed to secure rides and make it to the edge of the city without a problem. The first sign of trouble occurred as they left the outer rings of the tents that encircled the city proper. That was when the guards fell upon them in the night. At first, they were only in twos or threes, but it was clear that they had been waiting for them in the night. Growald had not hesitated to take his most capable men and fan out in the lead to intercept the guards, but they were heavily outnumbered and could offer only limited protection. Chaos broke out in the darkness as they were driven apart. There was sporadic fighting between the leftovers of Growald's men and the guards, but for the most part, they were focusing on fleeing. Syler, with a semi-conscious Bronwyn in front of him, made sure to stick close to Havert and Alltis so they were able to stick together despite it all. Syler knew that some of their number didn't make it, but he was fairly certain that a good number of them were able to escape. They weren't able to make it by the spot where he had hidden food and supplies. He knew that they would come to regret that in the cold autumn nights, but it was better to be alive. All they had were the meager amount of food that left from what Alltis distributed and a few blankets that had been attached to the saddles of the horses they stole. They would have to forage during their journey in order to keep themselves fed. As they set up camp, Syler was not sure how he would be able to protect and care for Bronwyn. She was pretty badly beaten up and would need weeks or even months of bed rest to heal up. A mage would be able to heal her fairly quickly, but Syler didn't know any and couldn't risk the exposure of asking around for one at the next village they came across. She was already weak from days of captivity and torture, but they couldn't even take a break to rest for long. Even though it was late into the night, they needed to get moving at first dawn to put as many miles between them and their pursuit as humanly possible. He smoothed out a patch of ground as best as possible and laid out a blanket for the two of them. To serve as a pillow, he rolled up the saddlebag and placed it at one end of the makeshift bedding. Havert helped him lift the unconscious Bronwyn off the ground and onto the blanket where he could cover her up and try to keep her at least a little warm. He hoped that, without a fire, the blankets they had would keep her warm enough. "We should set up a watch," said Syler. "There are too many people about and I don't want to be caught by surprise." "Yea, that sounds good," Havert agreed. "Here dear," he said to Alltis, "ya will want this." He gave her a long dagger in a leather sheath from his belt. "If someone comes after ya, just stab 'em somewhere ya think might put 'em down." She accepted the weapon without complaint and clutched it to her chest. With a glance over at the prostrate Bronwyn, she said coldly, "I don't think I want to be captured by those monsters. That should provide me plenty of motivation to kill anyone approaching that I don't know." "Just make sure you don't kill one of Growald's men," warned Syler. "There are a few of them out here and they may stumble upon us. As much as I might not trust Growald, I don't think he aims to hurt any of us, so some of his men would be helpful." Syler motioned with a jerk of his chin toward the blanket that Alltis had set up and said, "You two get some sleep, I will take the first watch. Havert, you will be next." Havert shook his head. "Naw, Syler. Ya need sleep more than I do 'cause ya have been workin' all that time on the lamp. Ya go on there ta sleep and I will take the watch." Before Syler could open his mouth to argue, Alltis chimed in. "He is right, Syler. You look exhausted. Get some sleep and I will wake you for the last watch." After a moment's consideration, Syler nodded. He was too tired to argue right now and he wanted to be near Bronwyn to keep the curse at bay. Without further discussion, he lay down next to her and put the blankets over both of them. Though she was still unconscious, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm. He was so exhausted that he was asleep in seconds. Syler felt like his head had barely touched his pillow when he was woken by something in the house. His body protested as he forced himself to open his eyes and look around. It was still dark outside, so he wondered why Bronwyn would be up this early. She often did rise a little earlier than he did, but this was too early even for her. Then it hit him, they weren't at their house, but outside. He sat up abruptly and started scanning the moonlit countryside. He didn't see anyone around and that in and of itself wasn't right. Havert was nowhere to be seen. Another noise drew his attention to an area behind him. It was the soft crunch of something displacing the dirt and small pebbles that covered this land. His heart began racing and he reached for his sword laying a few feet away. It might be only a rabbit, but the hairs rising on the back of his neck told him otherwise. Before he could reach the sword, a hand grabbed him by his hair and he heard the whisper of metal on metal as a knife was drawn. He tried to react, but knew he wouldn't be quick enough. He tried to roll away, but his feet were tangled in the blankets that he had been sleeping in just moments earlier. Then, there was a gurgle of noise from above him and the grip on his hair was released. Something warm sprayed across his face and chest and he heard a thudding sound as a body hit the ground. He didn't know what happened, but he wasn't going to take another chance. He kicked the blankest off of him and dove for his sword. When he came back up to his feet, it was unsheathed in his hands and ready for battle. "Syler, it's me," a familiar voice came from the darkness. "I'm not here to hurt you." It took a few moments for his exhausted, sleepy mind to place the voice. "Lamastus?" said Syler as he tried to peer into the darkness. "Yes, my friend." Syler heard some movement and then the sound of a flint being used. A few sparks later and he had to shield his eyes from the glow of a small torch. When he could see, he saw that his Angvardi friend was knelt over the body of another man inspecting his handiwork. "That is three times I saved your life, you need to start repaying the favor, Syler." "Put out the light," Syler said with a hiss. "Relax, the rest of the riders have returned to the city by now. I would have been with them except I happened to see this guy peeling off from the main group. I was curious about what he saw and decided to follow him. Good thing I did, otherwise you would be with the gods at this very moment." Syler saw no reason not to believe him, so he made use of the light to find where Havert was sprawled out on the ground asleep. "Havert," he said with a kick to the other man's boot. "Get up you bum!" With a sleepy grunt, Havert moaned, "What is it dear?" "What a fine watchman you made," said Syler with a little more venom than he meant. He was grumpy from lack of sleep and from yet another person trying to kill him. He kicked his boot again, harder this time and Havert realized it wasn't his wife. He sat up with wide eyes and asked, "What! What's going on?" "You fell asleep," Syler informed him angrily. "We were attacked and I was almost killed! If it weren't for Lamastus here, we would all be dead or prisoners. Your carelessness put is all in danger!" By now, Alltis had woken up and was rubbing her eyes. Leaving the two of them to fully wake up, Syler turned his attention back to Lamastus and asked, "What are you doing here?" "Looking for you, of course," the Angvardi said with a grin. The mirth was quickly replaced by indignation, "I am almost hurt that you didn't ask for my help rescuing Bronwyn." "What? Why would I have brought you in on that?" "Well, now I am hurt," said Lamastus. He managed to sound convincingly enough pained that Syler didn't dismiss his reaction as a playful outburst. "I am your friend, Syler. Why would I want to help you any less than Havert here does?" "Havert is a Sei and has been my friend pretty much all of my life," Syler pointed out. "You are an Angvardi soldier." "That doesn't mean I am not capable of being a loyal friend," replied Lamastus. "Why would you turn on your own people?" Syler asked. With a snort of derision, Lamastus bitterly explained, "My own people turned on me. When I went to the Governor's Mansion to try to protest the arrests, I was told by one of Uthas' aides that the governor was looking into the matter. I know when I am being given the run around and demanded to see him myself. That only got me thrown out. "I tried all I could to convince Captain Sosar to go back a second time, but he was adamant that there was nothing he could do. I kept trying to get support from among the other guards, but they were too afraid of Uthas to act. A few of my fellow guards were sympathetic, but not enough to defy Uthas." He smashed his palms into his fist to emphasize his anger. "I cannot believe that Governor Uthas would allow what happened in that Temple to occur. I was part of the group that went down there to secure the Temple after your raid and saw the dungeons. It is an outrage against the Way and human decency, and in a temple of all places! "Yesterday, Uthas sent us out on patrol watching the farmlands. He said that he was worried about Kutii raiders, but I am not entirely sure he just didn't want to keep us all apart and busy so we wouldn't organize in protest and cause problems. When word came to us that there were riots in the streets and that something had happened in the Temple, I suspected that you were involved. We were summoned back to secure the Temple, but as soon as I could get away, I ran to your house to find you. You weren't there, so I figured you were indeed part of it and would try to flee the city. I joined the guards laying in wait for you in the hopes of helping you escape. "When you made your break and things got crazy, I tried to find out, but couldn't in all the chaos. The guards who had been on patrol from earlier got confused by those of us from the city who didn't have torches. They mistook several of our own units as the rebels and chased them down. I think that helped most of your people to get through our lines and escape. "I was about to give up when I saw a lone horseman going out into the night. I had hoped that it was one of your people and that he would lead me to you, but it turned out to be this man. He must have seen your horses and came in to investigate." He pointed to the dead man, "It is a good thing he was so focused on you because if I hadn't of been able to jump him, he would have killed us all. That is no ordinary soldier." "What is he?" "That is a special operative of the Governor himself." Syler narrowed his eyes, "How can you tell?" Lamastus toed one of the man's vambrace, "See that? It is the Governor's seal. No other Angvardi could command him except an operative of the Empress or, of course, the Empress herself. These guys are serious business. They don't often take prisoners and are very, very good at killing people." Syler didn't like the sound of that. "Why would someone like this be out when there were plenty of guards?" Lamastus shrugged, "I don't know, but if I were to guess, he was hunting someone specific. These type of operatives are not sent out to perform general tasks, but are more like focused assassins there to kill specific, important targets. If he was here to kill one of you, then the governor wants that person dead quite badly." Chills went down Syler's back as his thoughts went to Bronwyn. Thinking about her also reminded him that he needed to touch her again before the pain returned. As he sat down on the blanket next to her, he said, "Bronwyn. He is after Bronwyn." "Why would they want her?" asked the Angvardi. He looked down at her through narrowed eyes. With a sigh, Syler replied, "Because she is a seer." Lamastus' eyes widened in surprise and he let out a soft noise that really didn't form any words. "That explains a lot," he murmured to himself. His voice rose so the others could hear, "There are rumors that the Shalktra have been seeking a seer all throughout Kutiim. I don't know why, but if they were wanting one, then it wouldn't surprise me if Uthas would try to kill or capture her simply to deny the Terulans their prize." Alltis spoke up and said, "Will the Shalktra continue to come after us?" After a few seconds, Lamastus replied, "Probably, and Uthas will likely send more people after you all. If he wanted her enough to send one of his own personal operatives, he is probably going to send out more, and in force. I would keep a sharp eye out for patrols, but I doubt he is going to send an operative out so soon. Operatives are not easy to come by because they are not common men. They are fanatically loyal, extremely intelligent, and among the best fighters and assassins that have ever been trained. They can blend into any crowd or role and are tenacious in following their prey. I have heard of some operatives staying on the trail of their target for over a year before killing him. Make no mistake, I think he will send one sooner or later, but he has to recall one from the field and reassign them to tracking Bronwyn down." "That ain't good," commented a still sleepy sounding Havert. "No," Lamastus agreed, "it isn't." He slid the vambraces off of the man's forearms and held onto them. "I think I will hang on to these. You never know when it could be useful to appear as the governor's operative." "If he could track us, so could others," Syler said. "We need to get moving once more and put some more distance between us and Kubei." "Aww, does that mean no more sleep?" complained Havert. "You should have been on watch to begin with," Syler reminded him. "You fell asleep and endangered us all." "Havert!" Alltis exclaimed. "You did what?" "I am sorry, but I was tired," he said as his face turned bright red. "It looks like you won't be standing watch any time soon," his wife said. "I am sorry, Syler, he is usually pretty responsible." Despite himself, Syler chuckled, "Boy, he has you fooled." "I do not!" exclaimed Havert in an attempt to defend himself. He was silenced by one look from Alltis and hung his head. "We need to get out of here," Lamastus said. He looked down at Bronwyn and asked, "What is wrong with her?" Syler's face darkened and his voice lowered, "Other than having been beaten, tortured, and raped repeatedly, you mean? She has some sort of spell cast on her that leaves her in unbearable agony. They prepared it by burning symbols into her stomach while they were torturing her, then unleashed the spell after she had escaped." Lamastus' face grew just as dark as Syler's and he uttered a few curses that Syler had never heard before. "Of all the barbaric things to do, that has got to be the lowest I have heard. If there was ever a sign that Governor Uthas was unworthy of my devotion, that was it. Even if he isn't directly responsible, that he allowed such a thing to occur under his domain damns him." "She has been unconscious for some time, though she reacts to the pain of the spell. Apparently, the only way to counteract it is if am touching her." Syler explained. Lamastus was still clearly angry, but Syler saw his expression turn thoughtful at word of that. Syler left things at that as the small group began gathering the blankets and preparing to move out. Lamastus went away for a little bit to get both his and the operative's horses. Syler was happy to have another horse just in case Bronwyn woke up and could ride on her own. He was growing concerned at her prolonged unconsciousness. The longer she was out, the more he wondered if the magic had something to do with it. She would need to be able to eat and drink or she wouldn't need the curse to kill her. There was nothing he could do about it right now, so he got the group moving once more with her slumped in front of him. * * * * * Tower of Estar Terula City Kingdom of Terula Master Prophet Xalent was rarely one who worried over the future. While it might seem odd for someone whose entire existence was centered around the future, he found that it never helped anything or anyone to fret over what was to come. In his opinion, the future was going to happen and little could be done to stop it. Despite the machinations of man, only the gods could alter the future. Prophecy to him wasn't the gods giving mankind a chance to change it, but rather the gods giving mankind a warning of what was to come. Fretting about what was to come was pointless as it would come regardless. It was always better to accept what was to be and adapt as best as possible. Now, though, he wasn't doing so well at abiding by his own beliefs. He was staring at another new prophecy that had just been delivered to his desk. This new prophecy was unique for multiple reasons. The first was its simultaneous deliverance. Four different prophets received the exact same prophecy a mere handful of hours ago. It was quite common for multiple prophets to receive the same or similar prophecies. In truth, most prophets including Xalent, didn't trust a prophecy unless it was verified by multiple sources. While multiple prophets receiving the same prophecy at the same time wasn't as rare as all of them receiving it at once, it was still something that would make even the most amateur of prophets pause. The second sign of uniqueness was that the prophecy itself was so blunt, so direct, and so unmistakable. Prophecy normally wasn't this literal or direct. Allegories, allusions, generalities, vague terms, and mere hints were the normal components of a prophecy. It took prophets decades of learning to be able to interpret what they saw. This one, though, was extremely explicit and left no need for interpretation or speculation. The third, and most troubling reason that this was an unusual prophecy was that it was not really a prophecy at all. The vision was delivered in the same mode as any normal prophecy, but it was not telling of future events: it was telling of what had happened and only what happened. Telling of what happened in the past was not at all uncommon in prophecy, but it was always, always accompanied by a prediction, warning, or some other indication of what would happen in the future. This one offered no such thing. It was a directive, a clear announcement and confirmation of past prophecy. Such a thing was simply not done. Xalent couldn't find a single example of a prophecy being given after the fact. Though the circumstances surrounding the prophecy itself were disturbing, it was simple. Through blood and suffering, the Master of Magic was realized on this night. The use of the verb phrase "was realized" in the past tense had originally caused Xalent to question each of the four prophets who had reported the prophecy. He had rigorously interrogated them to make sure they weren't substituting their own words or interpretation to the prophecy. He pressed them to see if they had missed a part of the prophecy. Perhaps this was only the first part and they were too excited to complete it. Every one of the four remained firm that this was the exact prophecy and that they had viewed it in its completion. Each man was an experienced prophet who were not known for mistakes such as incomplete prophecies and there was no evidence of any tampering of the prophecies themselves. The Master Prophet was forced to let them go and had been left alone in his chambers worrying about what this meant and how he was going to report this news to the king. * * * * * City of Maetop Terulan Realm of South Equab September 7 At long last, Prophet Aitin was able to see the smoke rising from the chimneys of the city of Maetop. He had been traveling for over three months and was exhausted, but that didn't matter. His stop at Soothei had been fairly simple, as was his task there. The road to Maetop had been more difficult as it had winded through the treacherous Hensroth Forest. That part of the journey alone had taken him a month and a half simply because he had to wait until a suitable caravan was ready so that he could have the moderate assurance of safety that it provided. Traveling through the Hensroth alone was an invitation to sure disaster, whether it be from marauders, natural elements, or the occasional wights left over from the Dark Times that haunted the roads. He had made it safely through the forest, though three of their caravan had died along the way. From there, he was able to cross the countryside of South Equab with much greater ease. He spent a few days in Surgar resting and begging food from sympathetic priests who seemed to recognize his divine purpose. On the road to Sald, he came down with a wet cough and nearly died. A kindly farmer on the outskirts of the city stumbled upon his fever wracked body lying on the side of the road and took him in. It took two weeks to recover, but when he did, he thanked the farmer by secretly performing some basic invigoration spells to help enrich his crops. The farmer had given him some food to take along his journey in exchange for three coppers and a bronze coin. That food, and other things he managed to find along the road, managed to last him all the way to Maetop itself, the capital of the realm. His trials were not over even with his safe arrival to the city. No, he had to complete his tasks here and then it was off to the mysterious land of Angvard far to the north. He needed to complete his task and then gather his strength and resources for the rest of the journey. This far south, there was no real need for any walls to protect even a realm capital. The Angvardi had never even threatened this territory and it was too large to be threatened by bandits or sea marauders from Ragos. The lord governor had plenty of men to protect his own city and the Royal Army used the ports as a resupply point for ships from Klatasta bearing grain, salted beef, and cotton. The city was definitely dominated by its port and warehouse districts. Ships coming from Klatasta via the Aytriesat River, Dunsurt, and anything coming down the River Tuo going west stopped here before braving the Muckwrath Coasts at the mouth of the Kadat River. That trade built the city into a powerful economic force even as far back as the late First Age. When Terula was but a warring faction of separate kingdoms all but controlled by Angvard, Maetop had been the largest port in the South and was recognized as neutral territory by all parties. Its lord had managed to manipulate, threaten, bargain, or bribe his way into great power among the southern kingdoms during the failed First War of Separation from 1E 783 through 786. It was still a major source of income for all of the South during the Second War of Separation that ended in 1E 878 and resulted in independence for the Southern Kingdoms. Maetop's influence was severely harmed in the Wars of the Southern Crown that happened after independence. Their king was defeated by the Terulan king Valast who would eventually go on to unite the entirety of the South into the Kingdom of Terula and begin the Second Era. While that history was fascinating in and of itself, Aitin was far more interested in another bit of history, something that most had forgotten. Despite its loss during the wars for power, the city was still important and remained so until this point. It was important enough to house one of the great shrines to the god Featwel the Uniter in the Temple of the Endless Seas. Aitin walked through the bustling streets of the city towards its very center where the majestic temple rise to touch the sky. Even from outside the city, its glorious aqua spires could be seen towering over even the ancient palace where the governor lived. Its outer walls and spires were made of rare pale blue marble with veins of white and light green color running through it. The marble was found only in a small number of jealously guarded veins near the town of Utal and cost a fortune. The Temple of the Endless Seas was the only structure Aitin knew of that was actually constructed in the blue marble, all the rest of it was used for expensive sculptures because it cost too much to use as a building material. To further the ocean theme, the windows were constructed of murals of stained glass consisting almost entirely of light blues and greens. Along the two main spires, the main windows were ten feet wide and stretched for a hundred or more feet into the sky, all of blue and green glass. The temple was surrounded by a mostly decorative wall that protected an atrium. Guards at the gate made sure people were safe and watched out for those who would prey upon the pilgrims. They were no threat to Aitin in his brown cloak that helped him blend in with the others traveling to the temple. Aitin could not help but be awed by the titanic sculptures of the members of the Tetrarchy that watched over the outer courtyard of fountains and glittering pools full of small fish. Each statue was carved out of stone matching the color attributed to that individual god. Tantis the Founder's statue, carved of green granite, depicted him carrying a gold plated three dimensional spellshape that told of his creation of magic. Mewela the Former, clad in brilliant lapis lazuli, stood tall under the sun and stars. She tenderly held the world that she created in both hands as she stood next to her husband on the right side of the path. Across that stone path was the red granite statue of Salgeus the Sustainer that showed him in armor with a sword stretched out over the path as though he were guarding the universe from the forces of Chaos. Featwel the Uniter's statue was by far the most decorated of the four. The statue itself was entirely done in the purest of white marble with his features gilded in gold. As this was his shrine, his statue was largest of them all and even its pedestal was encrusted in gems and fine metalwork. In his hands were the sacred Scales of Balance that kept Chaos at bay back in the early eons of the universe. Those Scales, and the mighty power of Featwel allowed the young world to form and grow while Chaos ravaged everything else. For many eons, the world was a place of peace and harmony with no evil, but that could not last forever. The Scales required a balance to function and so, when a time of peace had passed, there would need to be a time of war. As the Scales began to tip from peace to war, the world was profoundly affected. That shift caused the world to become as it was now: a tenuous balance between peace and war. Nobody knew how long this would last or if the Tetrarchy would allow their creation to fall into the control of Chaos when the Scales tipped too far. Past the four statues and the fountains were the splendid blue walls of the Temple itself. A high relief depicting a mighty warship had been carved out of walls on either side of the door with the masts crossing over the entrance itself. The torches, each large enough for two men to stand one on top of the other within, were positioned high above the ships. The torches burned with a cool blue fire that cast a pale light across the atrium. Inside those doors was the vestibule. Under the high arched ceiling were numerous baths fed by pipes from below. Each one was meant to wash a specific parts of pilgrim's bodies, be it their feet, their hands, or their faces. Attendants were on hand to help those who were old and to provide and dispose of towels. Benches lined the outer walls for individuals to sit on while waiting to be bathed. Aitin waited patiently for his turn at the baths and was grateful to wash away at least some of the dirt from his travels. Once he had washed, he was inspected by a priest before being granted entrance further into the temple. Having gained entrance, Aitin was finally able to behold the magnificence of the nave itself. The expansive room ran for hundreds of yards and was over two hundred feet wide. Long, narrow windows ran around the nave itself giving both light and a sense of being underwater. Tiny pieces of glass hang on strings along the inside of the windows to catch and spin the light in all directions. When the sun rose up, those inside felt as if the entire world had been engulfed by a giant deluge leaving them completely in the hands of Featwel. The ceiling itself was composed mostly by astonishingly large pieces of light blue glass that always made the sky look more richly blue than it was. The stone used to support the glass and the ceiling was pale blue that had been polished to a shine. Using some sort of magic that Aitin had never before seen, puffy white clouds seemed to form and move around within the ceiling glass itself. It was a marvel that, had he the time, he would have loved to investigate. He had heard that, during cloudy days when the sun did not shine, a ball of blazing white fire would form outside the temple to provide the light needed so that the glass would always glisten. Despite the beauty surrounding him, Aitin wasn't here to worship. Branching out from the sides of the nave were numerous alcoves. Some of those alcoves led to private areas for special worshipers, others to various chapels where ceremonies and minor marriages could be performed. The one Aitin was searching for would take him to the catacombs that ran beneath the temple. After a few wrong turns, the wayward prophet was able to locate the locked door that led to the catacombs. This was where his journey would become dangerous. Visitors were not allowed down here, so he could not be discovered. A bit of magic spoken in a nervous whisper was sufficient to unlock the door. Once inside, everything changed. Gone were the comforting blues and sparkling glass that had decorated the rest of the temple. In its place, harsh grey limestone coated the walls and simple iron sconces with mundane fire served as lighting. Timing was of the essence here and Aitin needed to get in and out before being noticed. The chances of there being someone down here were slim, but he couldn't be caught or uncomfortable questions would be asked. Step by step, Aitin was purged into the darkness, quite literally stepping into a mass grave full of bone and relics of the dead. He took one of the torches, but in the dark gloom, it didn't offer much comfort. The temple had been built on the highest part of the city, but even that didn't exempt it from constant seeping of seawater from the surrounding oceans into the lower areas. The air had a definite salty scent into it which, combined with the ever present smell of death and mildew, caused his stomach to grow queasy. It was good that he had not eaten much recently. The catacombs were constantly branching out into smaller alcoves, hallways, crypts, passages, and even a few deep pits. The catacombs went on for miles on end and, from what he was seeing, must have covered a large portion of the city as a whole. Scattered bones and complete bodies lined almost every wall giving the entire place the creepy feeling that death was watching and waiting. One wrong turn here could get someone lost and when their torch went out… Aitin thanked the gods that he was not wandering blindly down here. The gods had promised to guide him on his journey and they had kept their word. In his dreams every night for the last two weeks, he had seen the path he needed to take through the maze that existed under here. The correct way had been burned into his mind and now that he was actually here, it was startling how exact his dreams had been. Even though he knew where he was going, actually being here was far more unsettling than he had thought. He came to a particular hallway that was lined entirely with skulls from floor to ceiling. At first, that hadn't seemed too odd until he made the mistake of looking more closely at them. Each skull had a coin stuffed into each eye socket. The coins were all different with some being iron so rusted that it was impossible to tell what the coin had once been and others being made of tarnished silver or gold. Some of the ones he could recognize were positively ancient and had faces and writing he had never seen before. No matter the condition or type of coin, each one of the thousands of skulls had two of them hard pressed into their sockets. As he was looking at a skull with two large gold coins in the eyes, Aitin made a second shocking discovery: the skull had a rusted iron spike through it. A quick inspection of nearby skulls revealed that every one of them had the tip of a pike, a spearhead, or some other metal spike running through them. As realization of what this place was washed over him, he tried to back away from the wall but that only put him closer to the opposing wall. This was a hallway entirely dedicated to displaying the heads of those who had been executed within the city. They had all had their heads placed on pikes or spears after beheading and then those heads had been brought here. As part of the belief that any innocent man who was executed would come back to haunt his killers, coins were placed in the condemned's eyes to both blind their eyes and to buy off their spirits just in case they had been innocent. Clasping his hand tightly over his mouth, he ran the rest of the way through the hall until it opened into another, wider portion of the catacombs. This section seemed unremarkable until Aitin saw the tightly wrapped bodies piled up on either side without any care or organization. He couldn't help but notice that each of the bodies was missing a head. Most had decayed to bones and had the linen surrounding them turn to dust. A few seemed fresher because they still retained form and the linen wasn't yet brown and crumbling. At this sight, the prophet couldn't stop himself from throwing up, and that only made the smell worse. In almost blind panic, he fled from the room and into another passageway that was strangely empty. Holes had been cut into the wall to hold bodies, but there were none here. This passage wasn't long, but it was the first he had seen that had not a single body or bone in it. He didn't have time to puzzle what the purpose of this part of the catacombs was because he was nearing his destination at long last. When he finally stumbled into the room that contained what he was after, he nearly wept in relief. His destination was a singular shrine off on its own. There were no bones here. Instead, a row of miraculously preserved brown robes were hung on pegs running along either side of the room. The row of robes led up to a small pedestal where the actual shrine itself lay. The shrine was a small, solid gold box with diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and rubies fixed in decorative but functional symbols denoting protection and warnings to any who would disturb what was within. A small orb, the first such device he had seen since coming down here, fixed above the shrine offered comforting pure white light. With trembling hands, Aitin carefully reached out and touched the shrine. As he did, his hands passed through the intensely deadly ward protecting it. For a brief moment, he was covered in humming energy that would have incinerated any other man or woman who dared to do what he had done. But Aitin was not just any man. He was the chosen of the gods and they protected him. After a few seconds, the ward ran its course and deactivated so he could move freely once more. Aitin hesitantly opened the shrine to behold the object within. This was the purpose of his journey, the very thing that the gods themselves had summoned him for. He had suffered hardships for months now to do this, and he would gladly face those hardships over again. He took the object out of its protection and cradled it in his hands. With a few whispered words, his hands were consumed in purple fire that quickly left no trace of the object that had once been in them. As the last bits of his conjured fire died out, Aitin breathed a sigh of relief. One more step on his journey was complete and he was that much closer to playing his part in the Tetrarchy's plan for the world. It was humbling knowing that of all the people in the world, he was the one they chose, and he constantly reminded himself that it wasn't him that was doing this, but the gods. Without them, he wouldn't have even found this place, much less survived the protection ward. As he prayed his thanks, he heard the sound of machinery clicking behind the shrine. The sound was quickly followed by the grating of stone upon stone. His eyes opened in time to see a part of the back wall slide down revealing a hidden passageway. Giving praise to the gods once again for not forcing him to return back through the terrifying catacombs, he got to his feet and, without hesitation, entered the passage. As soon as he did, the stone rose back up to block off any retreat. Without hesitation, Aitin continued down the bare stone tunnel for what felt like hours. There were multiple twists and turns and there were times when the passageway got wider or more narrow, but it never branched out or came to a dead end. There was only one way to go, and that was forward. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he came upon the first obstruction he had encountered. A slab of red granite that didn't match the rest of the gray walls and floors blocked his path. On it was carved a single phrase in the magical language of the prophets and seers. It was the phrase for divine breath. Not knowing what else to do, Aitin hastily formed the spell and spoke the words. When he did, instead of a small whirlwind that would normally suffice to simply blow out candles or ruffle papers, something else happened. There was a soft rumbling from far back in the tunnel, but it didn't stop nor did it quiet down. Instead, it only grew louder until it reached deafening levels and the walls started to rumble. For the first time since entering the tunnel, Aitin was frightened. The rumbling and shaking grew louder and closer until he felt that his very body was being shaken apart. Just when he thought he could withstand no more, there was an ear splitting pop and the granite slab shattered into a thousand pieces blowing outward. At that, silence descended and everything still. Sunlight poured into the tunnel blinding Aitin with its brilliance. Hesitantly, he ventured out into the light and found himself well outside of the city. The tunnel ended in the side of a small hill and, judging on the amount of granite was shattered all over the place, it had been sealed with a rather large plug. When his foot touched the grassy hillside, another sound reached his ears: that of collapsing stone. He quickly scrambled away from the mouth of the tunnel just as a massive plume of dust erupted from it. He looked back and saw that the tunnel had collapsed in on itself and would never again be used. Gulping down his fear, Aitin dusted himself off and began to consider his next move.

Indeed, it makes a lot more sense now. And no, I had never heard of the Grand Inquisitor parable before, so I had no way to know that was what you were talking about. The entire poem makes a LOT more sense and I can see how you illustrated the scene. It definitely helps me appreciate it more.

As before, while the words are beautiful and flow well, I must respond with a resounding "huh?" Every time I figure I am following what you wrote, I get suddenly find myself totally lost. If you could, please explain in common terms what is going on here. I want to see if, by knowing the theme, I can follow the poetry better.

Well, the way I see it, an editor can easily cut out stuff if it is too much. It is a lot harder for me to come up with new material than to highlight and press delete. Anyway, here is the rest of that chapter. I added and worked a little in and once again, had to split the chapter up. What was once two chapters (minus 1500 words) and 13,800 words is now three full chapters and 20,300 words. I am probably going to skip much of the details of their escape since it was really hastily done and honestly, isn't necessary for the plot of things. I think I am just going to go to the scene where Lamastus joins them and move on from there just to cut out that extra 1500 or so words before it turns into another whole 6000 word chapter. I have already added 28,500 words into the second draft, and that is after pulling out an entire 6000 word chapter. At this rate, the final first book will be something around 340,000 words and that is before we even entered into the areas that I planned on greatly expanding (those with the plotters and with Raella). Urrg, I am sensing another pushback of material into Book 2 coming on. Anyway, I went back and expanded the end of the last section regarding the spells. Hopefully that helps things out and gives you your magic fix. I also tweaked the order of events and added some dialogue that foreshadows Syler's growing hatred of the Tetrarchy (the actual gods, not the religion). ____________________ The early steps of the spell had already been prepared back in his office when he created the pendant charm, all that remained was for him to unleash it. He had already given it a target when, two days ago, he had Melthorin take the charm and secretly acclimate it to the seer during her routine interrogation. All it took was a small amount of her blood—and there had been plenty of that in her cell—smeared on the glass and the charm would forever be locked to her. No matter where she was, it would find her. Even with her blood, the magic still needed to be activated and the spell allowed to run its course. With it sitting in the middle of the magical symbol carved in stone and coated in Uthas' own blood back when the Temple had been first built, it was literally vibrating in anticipation. Uthas had spent an entire day up here personally carving the excessively complex enhancement spell into the stone and then drained his own lifeblood to activate and seal it for his exclusive use. Whenever he needed to unleash a particularly powerful spell, he could come here and draw upon the power stored here. Without expressing any anticipation or feeling any malice towards his victim, Uthas began speaking the words of activation. He didn't need to make any form of gestures or give the spell direction because it already had such with the Seer's blood. When the last word rolled off his tongue, it was finished and her fate was sealed. Lights flashed and the stones hummed with the release of power. Even Melthorin, as accustomed as he was to his master's displays of power, could not help but gape in awe at the spell. When at last the power had gone out of him and the roof was silent, the pendant had shattered into thousands of minute pieces of glass that blew away on the wind. The seer was now cursed with a curse so vile that its creators had never used it. She could never escape the spell and would suffer far worse than she had when he had personally tortured her in the dungeons in order to get a feel of her essence. There was no cure, no counter, and no way out. In the end, the One would have to choose whether to let her live in anguish or if he would give her the mercy of death. If Uthas was right about the man, he would not be able to bear seeing the one he loved suffer for long. * * * * * Storage Yard City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kutiim The haunting sound of a woman screaming in unimaginable pain erupted from the storage yard and interrupted the fight that was going on therein. Syler's swing faltered causing him to hit only air and lose his balance. Growald's retaliatory strike failed to even gain momentum as his head snapped to where the noise was coming from. As soon as he regained his footing, Syler's gaze followed the sound and was shocked to see that it was coming from Bronwyn. The normally quiet and reserved woman was writhing on the ground wailing in pain. Syler had heard the cries of women giving birth and men having limbs sawn off, but he had never heard anything that sent chills up his back like what he was now hearing. No longer caring about his fight with Growald, he called out her name as he raced across the yard toward her. He didn't make it far before a hand with a grip of steel locked onto his wrist and held on tight. "Wait, boy," commanded Growald with such authority that Syler didn't even think to fight him. Some of the others had run to Bronwyn and were trying to find out what was going on. By this point, her pain was so great that her throat had constricted to where she could no longer form proper words, but tried in vain to say something that nobody could understand. Within seconds, even that ability was beyond her and she could only scream her throat raw. Tears were gushing from her eyes and her skin had turned a deep red. She was clawing at her own face and stomach managing even to draw blood before some of the women held her arms around. "What is happening to her?" cried Syler. Growald gestured to two of his men to hold Syler back before going to investigate himself. He cautiously approached the woman and put a piece of cloth in her mouth. "If she keeps screaming, we will be found out for sure," he said before Syler could protest. "Besides, if she seizes up, she could end up biting her own tongue off." Being careful to avoid her kicking legs, he knelt beside her and touched her sweat slicked forehead. She continued to try to scream through the gag as she looked up at him begging for relief. He placed two fingers on each side of her head, closed his eyes, and began whispering to himself. "By the power of the Elements," he whispered with eyes widened in consternation and dread. "It can't be!" In a quick gesture, he grabbed Bronwyn's shirt and ripped it in half. Syler cried out in anger and struggled against the two holding him, but Growald ignored him. The sergeant took a single look at her exposed stomach and whirled around to yell at him, "You fool! Don't you know what this is!" "What are you talking about?" said Syler incredulously. "This is a spell mark!" said Growald as he jabbed his finger down at Bronwyn's midsection. "Those burns, they make up a spell of pain and torture, one that I had never thought to see again." Syler didn't see what that had to do with things. "I figured as much, they were using magic to torture her in the dungeons." Growald looked as though he wanted to strangle Syler, but settled on balling is trembling hands into fists with exaggerated slowness. "No you ignorant boy, that wasn't the spell. That was just the application. This is the fulfillment of the spell. She has been cursed with unbearable pain from the one who put this mark on her and attuned the spell with her blood or something else. If this is what I fear it is, the spell will not end, but will leave her in unending pain. I have heard of spells similar to this being used on foes, but it is rare and the caster is usually close. This is something wholly different, something I had never thought would be actually used. It is truly from among the blackest of the black arts." Syler's jaw dropped. "Why would anyone do this to her?" Growald shot an ugly glance back at him, "Why do you think? Someone fears her and wants her to suffer." He looked down at Bronwyn with his brows furrowed in concentration. "Stop playin' ignorant, Syler, we both know she is a seer, the one that the Shalktra were seeking. That means that whoever did this thinks she knows something that they don't want her to know and they mean to silence her. I don't know who she crossed, but she certainly did anger someone greatly for them to do something like this." "What can we do?" Syler asked as he continued to struggle against the men holding him. He nearly broke free, but they were able to hold him back. For several seconds, Growald didn't reply, but kept looking down at Bronwyn's writhing form. He looked like he was having an internal debate with himself. When he at last spoke, his voice was quiet, almost reverent. "'We' can do anything, but you might be able to." "I will do anything, just tell me what," cried Syler in desperation. He couldn't bear seeing her in this much pain. "If you are what I suspect you are, then go to her, comfort her." He gestured for his men to release Syler. As soon as he was free, Syler fell to the ground beside her and cradled her head in his lap. As soon as he touched her, she let out a deep breath and collapsed. For a moment, Syler thought she was dead and fear chilled his blood. When he looked down at her face, she was staring back up at him with in a way that needed no words to express her relief and gratitude. Now that she wasn't struggling, the women let go of her arms and pulled out the gag in her mouth. She lifted her bandaged left arm and gently stroked Syler's face, but even that simple act seemed to drain the remnant of her energy. Her hand fell to the ground and her eyes closed. Syler was relieved to see the slow rising and falling of her chest and quickly covered her back up. "Paint me green and slap me silly," Growald said with a low whistle. "It worked." "What worked?" asked Syler. Growald merely grunted and shook his head incredulously. "You really don't know, do you? As I said, ignorance. No bother, you will find out soon enough, it is not my place to do everything for you." Syler frowned, "What is it that I don't know? I thought you said this would never go away." "It shouldn't have, but apparently you have the magic touch. That is all I can say right now, it appears that Havert is back with news and company." Syler hadn't even noticed his friend's absence, but apparently he had slipped off while he was sitting with Bronwyn. Havert, never one for subtlety, joined the crowd and exclaimed, "What in Chaos is goin' in here? We heard the biggest ruckus I ever done hear from a block away!" Growald gave the redhead a look that could have boiled water and gestured for him to drop the subject. "What did you find out?" he asked, clearly hoping to get off the subject of the noise. Havert's eyes narrowed, but he clearly got the message his superior was conveying. "Things are just as ya said they'd be," he responded, though he was clearly not pleased at being left out. "The guards are still busy then, eh? Were there any patrols in the streets?" Havert shook his head. "Only where there was protestin' and even then, there ain't much left of that. We think the most of them done went to protect the Temple, the archpriest, and the governor." "That sounds a little convenient, even for them. I wonder what they are planning," mused Growald while he scratched his beard. "At least you found the others." With most of his attention focused on Bronwyn, Syler didn't recognize that the three men with Havert were not part of their original group. They looked Kutii to him, but in the dim light, it was hard to be sure. Growald clasped the forearm of one of them and slapped his back. "Is all ready, then?" "It is, everything is as you asked," the man replied. Growald clapped his hands together once and rubbed them together in satisfaction. "Good, we need to get ready. We leave as soon as we can." He started off back across the yard with Havert and his other men. A few of the women stayed behind for a few seconds, but realized that Syler would probably want some privacy and began to melt away. Syler paid them little heed, but turned his attention back to Bronwyn. He held her good hand in both of his and pulled her head up into his lap. The movement caused her to stir awake and look up at him. Her green eyes were glassy and when she spoke, it was an a dreamy voice of one not quite awake. "Your face is bleeding," she whispered. Syler touched the side of his head where the Shalktra had hit him with his sword hilt and noticed that it had indeed started bleeding again. Apparently, he had broken the scab in his brief tussle with Growald. "I will be fine. How are you?" "I have never hurt so much before," she said. "First, it was like fire in my stomach. Then, I could feel ants under my skin burrowing and causing pain. I felt acid poured over my body, burning it and leaving me exposed to even more pain." Her eyes closed and remained so for several long seconds. Syler thought she had slipped back into sleep when they opened again and she continued in her weak voice that was barely above a whisper. "My skin was being stabbed with needles and my head felt like it would explode from the pressure. I don't know what you did, but the pain suddenly left when you held me." "I don't know what I did, but I aim to find out," Syler said through clenched teeth. Tears slid down her temples down into her ruined hair. "I don't want to die, Syler. I want to live and be free again." Barely able to keep from breaking into tears himself, Syler swallowed the lump in his throat and kissed her hand. "I know, and I will do everything within my power to make sure you do." Bronwyn tried to move her head, but stopped with a grimace at the pain. "What will we do?" "We will get out of here and I will get you someplace where you can heal," he vowed. "Karusa will help, she was better at healing than I ever was." There was a faint smile on her lips as she said, "I would like to meet her." Her eyes drooped closed for a long time before opening back up. She had to blink several times before she was able to focus on Syler's face. "Thank you for everything, my love," she murmured as her eyes closed. This time, they didn't come back open. Syler sat there while the others made last minute plans and divided out clothes. Alltis approached the two of them silently and put a hand on Syler's shoulder. "I am so very sorry this happened to you," she said. "I do not know why the gods would do this to either of you, but surely they have a purpose. I will pray to Mewela for her mercy." "Damn Mewela and damn the gods," said Syler. "The men who did this worshiped the gods, so I will not accept anything from them." Alltis was taken aback at this. "Not all who worship the Tetrarchy are like that." Syler gave Alltis a fiery glance before bowing his head over his unconscious wife. "I don't see worshipers of the Elements or Spirits leading wars of conquests in their names. I don't see the Spirit guides or the Elemental balancers torturing innocent women. All I see is death, pain, and suffering from the Way and for all I care, the Tetrarchy can burn in the pits of Chaos." With nothing more to say on the matter, Alltis just stood there and accepted Syler's wrath. Her eyes were downcast and her face was defeated because she could not answer the charge. "I am sorry, Syler," she repeated. "The world is a cruel place." Before Syler could respond, Growald interrupted by throwing him some clothes. "Time to go. Get dressed and get ready to move out. Our time is short and the window of opportunity our friends have given us is rapidly closing." Syler nearly said something sharp back to the Seinari, but he was too emotionally drained right now to care. For the first time, Syler realized that he was still dressed in the same blood soaked clothes that he had worn to the Temple. He grabbed the clothes and looked for a place to change. There wasn't much privacy here, but Alltis took the hint and focused on making Bronwyn comfortable. When he was finished changing, he went over to hear more of Growald's plans. "Speed is of the essence," Growald was saying over near the gate. "Our friends in the stables will be able to create a diversion for us, but we are going to have to move quickly or we will have guards on us. Take only what you can carry, but if there are extra horses, we need to either take them with us or handicap them so the Angvardi don't use them to follow. "When we make it out of the stables, we need to head straight for the edge of town. Don't ya try to do anything fancy while in the city, it is too easy to get boxed in and trapped. We need to get into the countryside and use darkness to our advantage. If we are lucky, we will be able to make it through together, but if we are encountered, we need to split up to make sure they don't manage to surround us. Confusion and darkness are our best allies. Multiple targets running around are harder to catch than one single one. "Now, the plan is that anyone who escapes heads west towards the old Eastern Watchtower. From what I know, that has been abandoned since the Angvardi invasion, but don't ya count on that. It could have been converted to an Angvardi outpost, so watch for patrols. We meet up there in one week two miles south of it. I will wait there for a day for any stragglers before movin' on. If that happens, yer on yer own." "Syler, come quickly!" Alltis called out. Without hesitation, Syler broke into a dead run across the yard. Even before he could get there, Bronwyn began kicking and screaming incoherently. "What happened?" he asked. "I thought I fixed this!" As soon as he grabbed her hand, she relaxed once more into quiet moans. She remained in her deep sleep and didn't wake to say anything. She was breathing, though, but that was the only sign of life within her. "Not good," he said. "Whatever this spell is, I don't think I can leave her unattended for long. I don't know why someone would want to bind us together, but apparently that is what they are after. Maybe they want to keep me from going after them. If so, then they were most wise because right now, I am half a heartbeat from going back and killing 'em all." "Now ya know how I had been feelin' all this time," commented Havert. "We need ta stop 'em and make 'em pay for what they did ta us." Syler shook his head. "As much as I want to, my duty to Bronwyn comes before vengeance. I am all she has now and I will not leave her. You should think about Alltis and your baby. If you get yourself killed, it won't do either of them any good." "We need to stick with Growald. He has friends back home and can get us somewhere safe." Syler angrily glanced over at where Growald was continuing with his instructions and said, "I think he knows more than he is telling us. I don't know how, but something is not right about him." Alltis frowned, "Why do you say that?" "He seems to know things and I don't know where he learned them. He also sometimes says strange things that make no sense. Keep an eye on him, I don't trust him." Havert protested, "He has done nothin' but help ya and this is how ya thank him?" "Helping someone doesn't entitle you to lie to them," replied Syler coldly. "Nor does it mean you can endanger someone they love by withholding information. Imagine if it was Alltis that was suffering and Growald wasn't telling you things. How would you react?" Havert didn't respond, but Alltis did in a reconciliatory tone, "We have all been through a lot. I think we should focus on getting out of the city before we start fighting among ourselves." Syler waited for Havert to argue, but the redhead kept his mouth shut. He then gave a nod of agreement. "You are right, this isn't the time to be divided. Thank you Alltis, for everything you have done for us. It means a lot, it really does." She accepted the thanks with a blush. "You are my husband's best friend. Even if you two dispute sometimes, he sees you as the only family he has other than his father and I. If that is how he feels, then that is how I feel. I do not like to see you two quarrel." "Yea," admitted Havert. "This ain't the time to be fightin' with me brother." He offered his hand to Syler who took it with little delay. "I am stickin' with ya on this one, Syler. Whatever happens, we got ya back."

I changed the name for multiple reasons. The first was that technically, the old spelling wasn't correct for how I say it. The singular "i" would sound more like an "eh" than the "ee" sounding that I was seeking. The second reason is because, in the old way, if you look at the name of the territory (Kut), it would be pronounced "cut" as in "to cut the bread." Then, when you refer to the race (Kuti), it would sound more like "cootie" as in "girls have cooties." The problem I have long had is that I don't want the land to sound like "cut" or the people to be confused for imaginary germs. This way, the territory is changed to have the more "oo" sounding (as it should) instead of the "u" sound and it has a smoother sounding end to it (see point 3). The correct way to say Kutii would be almost like "cootee" with a strong "t" and a hard "e" at the end. It isn't much different than cootie, but there is a difference. The third is that I always had problems with referring to a territory as "Kut" because it makes it very hard to use in a sentence (much like, ironically, Sei). I found myself forced to say things like "the land of Kut" or Kuti territory instead of being able to simply use the word on its own. When I was creating the story and the original map, I put a good deal of thought into some of the races and regions. The Kuti were not originally going to play as major a part as they do as originally, Bronwyn would have been a character that was more or less forced upon Syler as more of an annoyance. As I got into it, I realized the flow of the narrative and the characters themselves led them to falling in love, so she became far more pivotal. Because of that, I originally didn't put much thought into name for her race. The fourth reason is because I already have a four letter territory/race that starts with a "k" and is close to the region. Diversity helps separate characters and regions and thoughts. I have heard it say "never have two main characters with the same first letter or with the same ending" simply because it makes it easier to differentiate between them. In this case, the Krue and the Kutii are similar in ethnic origin so I can justify the similarities in their name (sort of like the Sei and Sua are actually closely related), but I wanted a little more difference between them. In truth, the racial name (Kuti/Kutii) is pronounced the same (by me at least). I like the sound of "Kutiim" better anyway. I have been toying with this idea for about six months and these specific changes for about two months, so this is hardly a casual decision. Regarding your second paragraph, I will point out that I actually added material to the first section with Syler/Growald, so it is longer than the original. Part of the shortness at the end is simply due to how little it takes to get Syler and Growald at each other throats. I will review it further when I finish editing the rest of the chapter to see if there is anything else that might help it transition better, but I am not sure if there will be anything added to it. Now, the second concern is most definitely something I will fix. I spent a lot of time going over Uthas' motivations that, upon reflection, I can see how I neglected the magic part. I forgot how much you like that magical element and I can see how it would benefit the story by expanding upon it. I shall do so and post the reworked paragraphs with the second part of this chapter.

Even though the chapter isn't complete, I wanted to get this out there. I reworked it significantly, at least the part with Uthas casting the spell. I believe that it will show a very different side of him, one that is altogether terrifyingly cold and yet, perhaps brutally necessary. Fate works in many ways, not all of them nice and gentle. Oh, something I forgot to mention in the last chapter. After great consideration, I have decided to change the name of the Kuti. From now on, the land that is theirs will be known as Kutiim (ku-tiim), the people themselves will be known as Kutii (ku-tii), and their language will be Kutiic (Ku-ti-ic). I have changed it in the master document, but I am not going to spend the time to edit and update every post here. I just wanted to alert anyone reading this in case they saw the new names and were confused. ___________________ Chapter 17 It is theoretically possible for magic to not just counter magic, but to completely nullify it. However, in all my years of research and experience, I have not yet encountered any form of magic that actually nullifies another. Wards, counterspells, and other defenses merely use one spell to redirect another away from the caster. — Using Ice Against Fire by Wizard Yygran Storage Yard City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kutiim August 30 Syler remained with Bronwyn for another fifteen minutes hoping she would come out of whatever state she was in and say something more. When it was clear she was not going to say anything, he reluctantly got up and walked over to where Growald was conferring with Tald and some others to see what was going on. When he approached, the sergeant motioned him forward with a gesture of his hand and gave him a smile that was as happy as he had ever seen the man wear. "Welcome, my friend. Today was a glorious day indeed, and we have you to thank for most of it." "How is it glorious?" Syler asked sourly. Growald laughed at this and slapped Syler on the back. "How is it not? The women were freed, as you wished. Every one of them was given a second chance even if some of them were too shortsighted ta do the smart thing. We killed many of the Shalktra bastards and got a bunch o' those damn pagan priests to boot. The Easterners will not be able to easily explain this away, that is, if they decide to tell anyone. Me coin says they will quietly hide the battle and pretend it didn't happen. That is why Thonathas will be quietly spreading word of what we did here long after we have left." Syler lifted his hand to cover his face shook his head in sadness. "Look at your men, Growald. See how few of them came out. You went in with two score men, yet only ten returned. The women have been brutalized and will live with the scars of what happened to them there forever." His face began to redden with anger at the images of his wife's tattered body. "This day should have never happened, it is a disgrace that it ever did." Syler expected Growald to grow angry at him, but instead, the older man simply chuckled and said, "You have much to learn of the ways of the world, my boy." There wasn't anger or even reproach in what he said, just the tone of a teacher to his pupil. "The world is a cruel place full of death and suffering. I have fought many wars in places you could not imagine in your darkest of dreams. I have been to places that make those dungeons look like paradise. I have seen women and children and old men spread out upon the ground with their innards surrounding them. I have seen mountains of severed heads with buzzards swarming in all directions looking for a nice juicy eye that hadn't already been plucked. I have heard the screams of men as they hold their torn guts in with one hand while trying to avoid being hacked to pieces with their other. "No, young Syler Penion, today wasn't a disgrace. Today was an example of life. Today was an example of how the strong defend the weak. Today was an example of true evil in this world being punished. You are a man who needs to learn that the world doesn't operate on the basis of what you think should happen, it is a world that operates on the basis of the strong taking from the weak. There are all too few of the strong who want to protect the weak and defend freedom and mercy. Numerous are the hordes of those who want domination and power, few are the ranks of those who would fight so that the weak may live in safety and in freedom, flourish." Syler had never considered Growald to be a man of philosophy, but neither had he thought the gruff man would care about Kutii women. Today was turning out to be a day full of surprises, in more ways than one. He didn't agree with him, but it was food for thought and he was not ashamed to admit that. "I will consider what you said." "That is all I can hope for, Syler," said Growald as he patted Syler on the shoulder a bit more gently than the rough slap he received before. "You are young and this is only your second battle. You proved yourself a true warrior today, I only hope that you continue to grow as a force for good and righteousness in this dark world." "How long are we going to wait here?" Syler asked, wanting to change the subject. "The Angvardi surely have sealed off the city by now and are on the lookout for us. Maybe we should have moved quicker to get out of the city instead of stopping here." Growald looked pleased that Syler was asking questions and showing an interest. "You would be right except for a few things. The largest among them is that the Easterners, both Angvardi and Shalktra, need to keep this event as quiet as possible. They can't afford to let it be known that some of the supposedly 'Unified' citizens of this fine town were able to flood into their impregnable Temple and kill their beloved priests. If news like this gets out, it could inspire others to do the same. At the least, it will cause them to question the invincibility of the Angvardi forces and the righteousness of their cause. Not only that, but they have their hands full dealing with the riots my men set up and won't want to be stirring up any more trouble. "Second, because of that, they can't simply march down the streets going door to door. If they do, people will ask questions that the governor doesn't want to answer. They will be on the lookout, no doubt, but they will do so discreetly. Discreet means fewer numbers and we can handle small numbers much better than dozens of guards openly marching down the street with swords drawn and spears lowered. "Third, because they can't mass in the town, they have to wait for us outside of it. That is a big area to cover. They won't be able to mass men quickly enough to completely control it. In the darkness, it would be much easier for us to slip through rather than during the evening when there is still daylight. Perhaps if we had been able to attack at night, we would have left quickly, but they wouldn't have let us into the Temple that late. "Fourth, these women can't travel. They have been brutally tortured and deprived of food and water for days. If we had forced them to flee with us, they would have either slowed us down to the point where we got captured or we would have to abandon most of them. They needed time to patch up their wounds or they wouldn't survive three days in the wilderness on the run. "Fifth and finally, we won't be just running out of here on foot. Part of my plan has always been to strike at the enemy's ability to rapidly move around on a moment's notice just in case we were ever found out and had to flee in a rush. To that end, I have several people—not Sei—who work in some of the stables, who will help us. We won't be running out of here, we will be riding out of here on the Easterner's own horses." Throughout that, there was not a hint of derision, spite, or superiority to be heard in Growald's voice. If anything, he was friendly and that put Syler on alert. He had never once had a complete conversation with the man without one or the two of them becoming furious. For Growald to talk this way after keeping so much of his plans secret during the preparations was suspicious. "Why would you decide to explain yourself now of all times?" he asked. "You have never felt the need to do so in the past." Growald leaned in and replied in the same strange voice he had heard him use a few times before. Though it was barely above a whisper, it sent tingles down his back. "Because you need to learn." He stepped back and in his usual tone, added, "You cannot simply walk into a battle without planning for how to get yerself out. Did you really think that you could barge into their Temple, free your woman, then go about your merry way? No, boy, ya must plan and have a strategy to escape. You must learn how to use your brain to think ahead. If you don't, you will only get yourself and many, many more killed. You may be no seer, but you are plenty capable of planning." Syler crossed his arms and took a step back while trying to detect a hint of challenge from Growald. "I don't think now is the time for lectures, about what I should or shouldn't have done," he said tartly. "You don't have time to wait for later. You came to me offering a way into the enemy's lair, but you didn't care enough to find a way out. You were focused in your own loss and anger instead of considering the bigger picture. You had only half a strategy. Had you been in charge, we all would have died." "I did make plans," Syler shot back defensively. "I have provisions hidden outside the city. I was going to take Bronwyn and the two of us were going to leave here." Growald threw his hands up in consternation, then pointed out at where Bronwyn was still sitting in a daze, "Do you mean that Bronwyn? The one that cannot move much less travel? If you take her out into the countryside on foot, she will die, and that is assumin' you even manage to evade the Angvardi." "I didn't expect her to be—" "Of course you didn't, and that is my point, boy. As I said, ya focused yer sight too much and forgot the bigger picture. You cannot do that, you must start learning to see the bigger picture. If ya don't, more than just you and your pretty girl will suffer. There are people who will be countin' on you from now on out, Elements preserve 'em." "I don't have to do anything but get away from here," said Syler through clenched teeth. "I don't owe anyone anything." That statement was met with laughter that sounded genuinely amused rather than angry or condescending like he expected. Growald slapped his knee and laughed until tears began forming in the corners of his eyes."You have no idea what the future will hold for you, do you boy?" he said between peals of laughter. "If this situation weren't so serious, the irony of that statement would be worthy an entire sonnet." "I don't need to take this anymore," said Syler angrily. "Do whatever you want to do, but count me out of whatever you have planned." The laughter stopped as abruptly as it had began, and Growald's voice was once again deadly serious. "Don't be stupid, boy. I can tolerate your ignorance, but your stubbornness and stupidity are not acceptable." "You don't have to 'tolerate' anything, Growald." Syler was in absolutely no mood to be talked down to nor did he want to mess with the sergeant's antics. He had put up with enough of it, but now it was done. "Watch your tone, boy. You are strong, but you are not yet a match for me." Growald's face had reddened and his eyes seemed to have sunken into their sockets. Syler was not going to back down, his anger hadn't been able to completely die down and being toyed with by this bully was only encouraging it. After what he had just seen done to Bronwyn, he wanted something, anything, to lash out at and right now, Growald's bearded face looked like a very inviting target. "Don't forget what happened last time we fought." "I didn't forget, boy. I don't care who you are, there is a limit to how far I will be pushed." Little specks of spittle were flying from Growald's mouth and landing in his beard as he spoke. "Then keep out of my path, Growald. I have no desire to cross paths with you, but if you get in my way, I will go right through you." "My, how your single victory has made you cocky. I don't know if I am cursed or blessed to be stuck here with you, but until you learn a lot more about fighting and being a man, you are nothing but a waste of time." "That is it," Syler's fury said. He lost control of his own body and launched himself at the larger man for the second time. Growald met him with his fists and they began to brawl. * * * * * Temple of Kubei City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kutiim Uthas, governor and lord over the totality of the province of Kutiim, walked dispassionately by the bodies of the slain on his way to far more important things. The Temple had not yet been cleared and blood coated many of its once beautiful walls. It didn't bother him to see the mangled bodies because they were but pawns. There was only slight anger over the defiling of a Temple by the feet of the unbelievers, but that paled in comparison to the greater picture. With him was his trusted mage and advisor, Melthorin, and two mage acolytes whose names were not important enough for him to be bothered with. They had traveled from his mansion to the Temple after it was secured by the enraged Shalktra survivors. Their leader had demanded to know why Uthas' guard hadn't supported them, a question to which he simply pointed out that his men had outnumbered the rebels and had only themselves to blame for being caught unawares. That wouldn't end the Terulan's anger, but it did give him pause. One way or another, those fools would not be in his city for much longer. The four of them were climbing up the stairs in the center of the tower and none dared stop them. A few bodies littered their path, but he stepped over them without a second thought, more incensed that they forced him to miss his step than that the lives of those men had been cut short. Their goal was the roof, the pinnacle of the Temple which construction he had personally overseen. The commoners might have thought that the Wayic priests or the Tetrand had designed this mighty structure, but that wasn't true at all. Uthas himself had presented the plans to Archpriest Ganatoa with instructions to follow them to the letter. The archpriest had been wise enough not to offer any protests. Once they reached their goal, he barred the trap door making sure that the four of them wouldn't be interrupted. The magnificent lamp that was to be put here tonight wasn't present. Uthas chuckled at the thought of the target of so much of his efforts had unwittingly helped him complete his plans. The presence of the lamp would have helped tonight, but they had other means by which to focus his energy. The acolytes went to work without a word while Uthas looked out over his city. It wasn't very large yet, but in time, it would grow to house hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world. It would become the capital of a new empire, one that would never see an end and that would cover all the lands of the world. This empire had started today with the blood that had been shed within the very tower that he now stood upon. That blood would seal the pure power of this site forever. "My lord," one of the acolytes said. "We are ready." He nodded and walked to the center of the tower. There, he began summoning the power of Tantis, Giver of Magic, to his will. Here, at the pinnacle of the Temple, the power that normally flowed here was almost intoxicating even when not active. When he drew it from its source, the power nearly blinded him with its strength. There would be a time when he would unleash all of the power that he had focused on this spot, but for now, he needed only a small portion of it. He pulled out the glass pendant that had been carefully crafted a few short days ago and placed it in the center of a complex mural etched into the top of the Temple. With ancient and profane words, he prepared his spell and focused it on his target. The Master of Magic had many prophecies written about them. Among them was a curious little piece that said: "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." As with all prophecy regarding the One, this had been carefully gone over. There were multiple theories as to what it meant, but Uthas had always thought it was quite clear. The one who showed the world the identity of the One was none other than the Seer of Zazasp, the woman known as Bronwyn Antoras. He had found her months ago after a long and arduous search. It was from careful observation of her that he had discovered who the Master of Magic truly was. It had been hard not to try to interfere in events, but in the end, it had paid off. The man who had been selected as her husband turned out to indeed be the One that had been sought for centuries. At first, Uthas had not been sure, but tonight, when he felt the ground shake and heard the lightning from nowhere, he knew he had been right after all. The best thing was, he didn't even need to do anything to bring about what was needed, the Shalktra had done it for him, and they had paid in their own blood for it. Now that the One was revealed, the seer had fulfilled her purpose and had but one gift left to offer the world. She had to be sacrificed by the One in order to change the man into what he needed to be in order to face the trials coming his way. Uthas had thought long and hard about what "sacrifice" and "out of compassion" meant and, as usual, the gods had shown him in their own way. What would cause a man to kill someone out of compassion? Clearly, they had to care for the individual or there would be little suffering at the sacrifice. Whoever was sacrificed had to mean a great deal to the one doing the sacrificing in order to change them. Right now, the One was but a simple smith, barely tested in the fires of battle and certainly not ready to face the Coming Darkness as mankind's champion. Something had to happen in his life to force him to face destiny and the hardness of life. That he had come to care deeply for the seer would make this possible and was a greater gift than any Uthas had expected from the gods. But what would make a man sacrifice the one he loved? Uthas had spent hours pondering this, until his mind stumbled upon a dark, vile answer. The only way a man would kill someone he loved would be to spare them endless pain and suffering. The prophecy had said that he would sacrifice her "to save her." It all made sense to him now and he knew what he had to do. The only way to bring about the prophecy and prepare the One for his destiny was to force him to kill the woman he loved. The only way to do that would be to inflict a curse upon her that left her in such pain that he would not be able to bear watching her suffer. Any man who truly loved someone would never let someone else harm them, so he would be the one to take it upon himself to kill her and put her out of her misery. It was the perfect solution. The world was a harsh place and sacrifices had to be made. Without his own family and hometown being taken from him, he would have never risen to where he was. Instead of being destroyed by such an event, he had grown stronger from it, just as the One would have to tonight. The spell was prepared, the target was locked in, all that remained was for him to release the spell. He did, and with no particular malice. Lights flashed and the stones hummed with the release of power. Even Melthorin, as accustomed as he was to his master's displays of power, could not help but gape in awe at the spell. When at last the power had gone out of him and the roof was silent, the pendant had shattered into thousands of minute pieces of glass that blew away on the wind. The seer was now cursed with a curse so vile that its creators had never used it. She could never escape the spell and would suffer far worse than she had when he had personally tortured her in the dungeons in order to get a feel of her essence. There was no cure, no counter, and no way out. In the end, the One would have to choose whether to let her live in anguish or if he would give her the mercy of death. If Uthas was right about the man, he would not be able to bear seeing the one he loved suffer for long.

Oops. Sorry about that, there was a lot of cutting and editing going on.

This was not an easy chapter to work on, not at all. I apologize for the delay, but it is very hard to work up the proper mindset to describe the horrible results of torture like what happened to Bronwyn. I greatly unified and expanded the descriptions of what happened to that poor girl because I wanted the gravity of what she suffered (and the impact of ) to be fully imparted upon the reader. I rearranged a few things from the original copy, namely in having Alltis and a few others waiting for them in the yard to help out and showing some more of the pain that Syler is suffering just seeing someone he loves so hurt and broken. Other than the description of all that suffering, I did add a critical part that I originally intended on putting in the original but forgot. A careful reader will notice that there is no location header at the start of this chapter. That is because, for all intents and purposes, Syler is being given the grand tour of Hell as result of his being confirmed and having his powers "activated." It is this opening piece that explains how Syler knew and will continue to explain a how he occasionally knows things he shouldn't necessarily know in later points of the series. Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of the results of torture. _______________ Chapter 16 For the One to come to full realization, he must first do that which cannot be undone. Four lives shall he take: one in defense, one in anger, one in combat, and one in revenge. With the sound of thunder and the shaking of the earth, his gifts shall be awakened. With darkness that blinds and dreams that terrify, he shall take his first steps into destiny. — Prophecy of Dolgoh, currently in the private library of Uthas of Ravest Blinded by the sudden black that consumed the room, Syler could not think straight and began to panic. It was as if his mind was filled with a thousand voices all crying out in pain and horror, and their fear sliced into him. The fear cut through his mind driving pain straight from the tips of his fingers and toes to his heart and everywhere in between. That anguish seeped into his very soul, searing as it went and leaving raw, pulsating red wounds behind. Syler had only heard whispered tales of the place he now found himself in. His people never named it for fear of summoning its presence, but there had been a time when such nightmares were reality. This was Chaos, the Inferno, the Halls of the Damned, the Depths, and the Krastonei. This was where all the souls of the damned were sent upon death. The veil between the living and the dead was torn asunder and he was being dragged into it. This was the realm of dead, of eternal suffering, of sorrows and past regrets, of things not done, and of dishonor. Mortals were not meant in this world for none but the those who had passed beyond mortality could exist within it. The paleness of death was inflamed with the fires of violence to create a nauseating miasma of suffering. These were victims from every war, of every conflict that had ever been. This was the fate of those mortals not fortunate or wise enough to have the protection of the benevolent immortals to guide their souls into warmth and bliss. In the dark, he could not force his muscles to contract and flee. In the black, he could not draw air into his lungs to scream. In the abyss, he could not think to close his eyes and shut out the horror. "Turn not your gaze from upon them," a Voice, imposing and dreadful, boomed from the ash tainted skies above. The Voice was neither male nor female, but carried a power and authority that Syler could not ignore. "For this is the fate of everyone, righteous or not, in the End of All should you fail." Syler could not disobey the voice no matter how much he desired it. For minutes uncounted, he could but remain there, frozen, and be subjected to the sheer sense of dread that permeated the world he found himself in. For hours unending, he could but languish in the collective torment of the unfathomably abject masses of those cast into fire, smoke, and ruin. For days unendurable, he could but stare in terror at the souls of the dead. "War and death are coming to Teladia. Upon your shoulders lies the burden of life itself," the Voice proclaimed after Syler had seen all around him. The Voice became a soft, soothing whisper in his ears, no longer frightful and authoritarian, but pleasant and comforting. "You shall not be alone, Syler Penion. Listen now to these words, for they shall guide you when you most need them." The Voice continued on, telling Syler of things more valuable than all the gold in Teladia, more wise than all the advice of the Sages, and more powerful than all the magic of the Wizards. Slowly, the world around him turned to pitch Tears streamed down his face as he listened to his doom, but he could not escape. Multiple possible futures were shown to him, all depending on the choices he made. The world was stretched out before him to command, but it was also his to destroy. The absurdity of his situation washed over him and reduced him to tears of shame. He was caught there, in limbo between life and death, receiving personal instruction from this Voice, and in the end, he could only feel unworthy. * * * * * Temple of Kubei City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kutiim "Heya Syler, ya there?" Havert said as he shook his friend. With a sharp breath, Syler snapped out of his trance and shook his head to clear it. "What happened?" he asked. After the ground began shaking, he could remember only a vague sense of fear and perhaps a little pain, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember falling to the stone floor. "Ya musta tripped in the quake," replied Havert, though his voice was strangely cold. With a shrug, Syler got up and brushed himself off. The bloody body of the priest he had killed served to clear his mind and refocus it on the current situation he found himself in. "What was that?" he said to nobody in general. From just outside the doorway an answer came. "It was a sign," replied Growald in a voice that seemed too soft for him. His eyes were focused on something far away for a few moments before he shuddered and looked at Syler with a sense that teetered between awe and envy. After several seconds, he grunted and turned away. With sword in hand, he pointed the way forward. "We need to get out of here before reinforcements come." Even though he complied in returning to the hall and continuing onward, Syler wasn't so quick to drop the subject. He had never seen Growald wear that expression "What sort of sign?" "One based in magic," snapped Growald. "Unless you want to stay here and find out what would happen to us should it fully convalesce, then we need to start moving." Syler wasn't fully convinced, but he had to admit that the Seinari sergeant had more experience around magic wielders than he after being around all the battlemages and wizards while in battle. He made a note to bring the subject up later, but for now, it probably was best for them to get out of the Temple. If there weren't Angvardi forces outside already, it was only a matter of time before there would be. Syler noticed that Havert was looking at him oddly. "What?" he asked. "You didn't hafta kill him," he said disapprovingly. "He warn't no threat." Syler shook his head, "He was party to what happened down there, that makes him just as guilty as the men doing the actual torture. He got exactly what he deserved." "Ya killed him in cold blood!" exclaimed Havert with rising anger clear in his voice. Syler shrugged and looked over at his blood covered wife. "My only regret is that I couldn't make him experience what Bronwyn did." "Enough back there," Growald called back. "Focus and keep your mouths shut." Havert continued to eye him, but followed the sergeant's orders. Syler knew that they would be having another conversation about this later and didn't look forward to it. Havert was right, he had killed the priest in cold blood. Oddly, despite himself, he didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for it. The man deserved what he got. It was justice, plain and simple. It was the justice that Bronwyn and all the other women with her deserved but would have never received were it up to the Angvardi. Enough of the past. He needed to focus on protecting his wife and friends. Bronwyn was barely able to keep up with the brisk pace they took, so he gently tried to help her. Everywhere he touched, she grimaced and shirked away, so he eventually gave up and forced himself to watch her struggle on her own. She didn't pay attention to her surroundings, but stared ahead at the back of Growald's head as they walked through the Temple. She said nothing and ignored the occasional bodies they stumbled across. They walked as fast as they could manage through the Temple in wary silence, but encountered no more from among the living. When they reached the front doors, there were seven of Growald's men waiting for them. All of them were covered in blood and most appeared to be wounded. "Report, soldier," Growald barked out. "We managed to surprise the Shalktra at first and killed scores of them," one of them reported with a smile of victory. "We also killed as many priests as we could see, but some of them had magic and managed to drive us back. We sealed the stairwells as best as we could to contain the rest of them, but a few had managed to get in before we could get the last one. Ten of us were killed trying to drive them back and this is all that remains." "We knew that losses would be heavy, but we scored a major victory by killing so many and in their own cursed Temple nonetheless. How long will the stairwell doors hold?" "Not long, sir, we were about to unseal the front doors when we felt the entire Temple tremble. We feared magic was being used outside to assail the doors and were debating on what to do when you arrived. We are glad you managed to rescue the women. Clearly those here were beasts judging by how they look." "They were, but most of them paid for their crimes," Growald assured him. "We need to get out quickly before the rest of the Shalktra and priests get through the stairwell doors." At his direction, two of the Sei unsealed the front doors while the rest of the men and the most courageous women stood ready for whatever was to come in. To their surprise, nobody waited for them outside. They could see no guards or mages at all. The only people that could be seen were a few townspeople walking along the outside of the outer wall, likely on their way to the market. "I can't believe it," Havert commented incredulously. Growald clearly didn't like the situation and motioned for them to stay where they were. "This is too convenient. Even with all of the riots we started, there is no way that he didn't know what was going on by now." "What do you want to do, sir?" asked one of the men. The sergeant mulled that question over for a few moments before saying, "Keep your eyes out. I want to see what they are going to do now that the doors are open." A distant crash came from somewhere behind them and Syler knew they didn't have any time. "We don't have a choice, we have to go or they will attack from behind. We can't fight with all these women, especially not if they have magic." Growald frowned and said, "Alright, let us get out of here before they figure out where we are. All of you know what to do once we get into the city." His men nodded in agreement, and followed him as he ran out of the Temple. Syler, Havert, and Bronwyn stayed at the rear of the group and made sure that none of the women fell behind. Syler's heart was pounding with each step as he expected arrows or worse, fireballs to start pummeling them. They made it out of the square and into the city itself without an incident. As soon as they did, some of the women began to scatter likely heading home. Growald tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen. As they fled, he shook his head in disgust and muttered, "Stupid women, they will only end up back where we found them." The remaining thirteen women, including the unconscious one, remained with the Sei. They kept running until they were several blocks from the square. Every so often, Syler could hear shouts and see the glow of torches down a back alley or on the next street over, but the only individuals they encountered were a handful of unarmed townspeople. Whatever diversion Growald had set up apparently was working brilliantly. The Seinari led them to a walled off storage yard that had been prepared for the autumn harvest that hadn't yet been gathered. It offered an ideal if only temporary place to hide from prying eyes as it was sheltered on all sides by a brick wall and had only one entrance that offered a good view of the street on both sides. Waiting for them there was Alltis, two other women, and three men who looked like they were carrying weapons under their cloaks. Clearly Growald had been prepared because there were bandages, several sets of clothes for both men and women, and extra weapons just in case. There was a large trough full of water to rinse themselves off in and another bucket for drinking. Two of the men immediately took up positions at the gate to watch for trouble while those from the temple went inside and busied themselves with preparations for the next step. "Ladies," Growald addressed the women, "I suggest that ya not go home. The Shalktra will look there first and if they find you there, you will wish that you had never escaped in the first place. You need to get out of the city and try to find a safe place to hide out, preferably others of your kin." Even as some of the more awake women began to protest, Growald raised his hands to silence them. "Some of ya might have become attached to your assigned mates, so it is understandable that you would want ta be with them and let them know you are safe. I will have some of me men will stay behind and notify any of yer husbands should you wish to let them know what happened to you." "I am the daughter of a clan leader," one of the women said, "my father was killed, but I still receive the respect he once had even if the Haresu rule. If you can get us out of the city, I will be willing to take any who wish to follow me to Kultt. We will receive sanctuary there and our people will hide use from the Haresu." Growald nodded and gestured to several packs bunched up next to a wall that Syler hadn't noticed until now. "Take some of those, they have food and water in them to help you on your journey. I suggest you wait for the rest of us to escape, but you are free to do as you please. If you do decide to go with us, clean yourselves up and tend to your wounds as best as possible. We will be waiting a bit longer for full darkness before we make good our escape." All but one of the women wanted to go with her. The remaining woman refused to leave the unconscious women whom she claimed was a friend from her village. Growald pointed to one of his men and said, "This is Thonathas. He will remain behind here to assist you and tell your families of your fates. Give him your names and where you live and he will make sure they are contacted when it is safe." He looked at the two women who were remaining, "Stay with him, he will watch you as best as he can until she wakes. He will try to get you out of the city if he can, but neither of us make any promises." Syler was surprised that he had planned assistance for these Kutii women. He had figured that the Seinari was only helping Syler because he wanted to get into the Temple and kill a bunch of Easterners. That he had the forethought to prepare food for the women and had a man willing to tell their husbands and families of their fates painted the man in a very different light. Syler left the rest of them to tend to themselves while he turned his focus to Bronwyn. She had remained a bit behind from the rest of them and was standing in the middle of the yard. She simply stood there, staring at the ground, and vainly trying to staunch her bleeding left arm with the sleeve of her stolen shirt. Syler didn't have to be a healer to know that she was going to need some better attention than that. He went to the trough get a couple of rags and to fill a small pot he had seen in a corner with water. On his way over to Bronwyn, one of the women stopped him. With a glance over to where Bronwyn sat, she said, "I was in the cell next to hers. They put me through hell with beatings, torture, and rape, but what they put her through was beyond what any person should have to endure. She got everything we did, but worse. She looks bad on the outside, but I fear her mind is where the most damage was done. I think they used magic on her because I would hear one of them priests in there with her for hours and she screamed even though I didn't hear them beating or having their way with her. Occasionally, I could see flashes of light during those times and it sent chills up my back. Take care of her well, friend, but don't expect a quick recovery." Upon hearing that news, the anger that had been slowly leaving him since their escape rapidly returned. Now, he felt the same way as he did right before killing the unarmed priest. His blood turned hotter than molten iron and almost wanted to go back and try to kill more of those monsters. None of these women had done anything to deserve what they had received. He thanked the woman for the information and turned away so she couldn't see his revulsion and fury that reddened his face. Before he could go to Bronwyn, he had to force himself to calm down and think of the future that was now in his grasp. By tonight, if all went well, he would finally be on his way back to his sister with the woman he loved at his side. Together, they would leave the Angvardi behind and live a life of peace and happiness. While he was cooling off, he found an empty bucket and got some fresh rags, poultices, and bandages from where Alltis was distributing them. He also stopped to pull a fresh blouse and a pair of traveling pants out of the stack of clothes piled nearby. He filled the bucket with water and set his jaw at the grim task before him. Now that he was at last calm, he walked over to where Bronwyn was standing in a daze and led her to a distant corner where he could allow her to preserve what little modesty and dignity she had left. She sat down on a small crate when he guided her, but when he tried to get a closer look at her arm, she jerked back. "It is okay, Bronwyn, it is just me, Syler," he said softly. After waiting for a few moments to let that register, he tried again. Without looking at him, she relented and allowed him to look at the cut running down her arm. It wasn't deep, but clearly it had been painful. The blood had stopped flowing freely and was now only oozing. It needed to be dressed, as did the cut running down her chest. He went to the trough and got a wet rag and brought it to her, but she didn't even acknowledge him. With gentle care and experience learned from his father, he cleaned the cut on her arm as best as he could and bandaged it. Throughout it, she didn't say anything or react, she just stared into nothing. She had been quiet and withdrawn back in the Temple, but she had at least been able to react to her environment. It was as though that now they were no longer fleeing for their lives and constantly on the move, her awareness of the world around them was fading away. He didn't want to push her after what she had been through, but if she didn't come out of it soon, they would not be able to travel and would have to find some place in the city to hide out until she recovered. He started working on her face next. While he did so, she didn't even seem to respond beyond blinking her eyes a few times if he accidentally dripped water in them. Occasionally, she winced when he peeled off a dirt encrusted scab, but she didn't try to stop him now. All of the terrible wounds he noticed back in the dungeon were there in front of him once more and he could hardly make himself keep looking. Now, with more time to focus on them, he could see how her jaw had been broken and improperly healed by magic. Her not being able to talk would defeat the purpose of interrogation, so they couldn't let that stand. Her swollen eye concealed what looked like where someone had hit her hard enough to crack the bone above her socket. He knew of no way to properly heal such an injury without magic. Magic that was unavailable to him. There was a lump in his throat and his eyes were filling with tears. Her beautiful face was ruined now, abused and warped into a broken visage of unnatural humanity. All of that didn't do anything to diminish his love for her. On the contrary, it only inflamed it. Yes, Syler would have admitted that he had always been sort of attracted by her beauty and grace, but that was nothing more than skin deep and he knew it from the start. There were many women whom he found attractive, but he didn't seek their company out. With Bronwyn, he forced himself to look past the physical beauty and into the person beneath. He loved her and would love her for as long as she lived, no matter how she looked. That she was now broken and would not ever be able to recover from what they did to her meant nothing to him now. If anything, it only further validated his decision not to have sex with her when she offered because it now meant that he was able to love her for more than her appearance. By the time her face was as clean as he could get it and he had applied some poultices and bandages to the worst of it, he realized that it was time to address a slightly sensitive subject. "Bronwyn," he said quietly, "someone needs to clean the cut on your chest. Do you want to do it yourself, or would you like me to?" She merely nodded slightly leaving him unsure as to what she wanted him to do. He asked again, but she didn't respond. When she made no move to do it herself, he slowly and carefully took the Shalktra guard's shirt off. She didn't resist, but simply allowed him to pull it over her head and let him guide her arms through the sleeves. The cut, a continuation of the one on her arm, was in similar condition. It ran from her upper arm where he had managed to place bandages, up over her shoulder, down over her sternum and between her breasts before ending just below her belly button. The torturer knew what he was doing and had worked to inflict pain but not to put her life in danger. It wasn't too bad at the moment, so he decided to try to clean her before bandaging it. What wasn't covered in dried blood seemed to be covered in dirt, excrement, or some other unidentified filth. As carefully as he could, he washed her back, shoulders, neck, and uncut right arm. Occasionally, Bronwyn would wince and pull back when he hit a particularly sore spot, but she mostly sat there and endured his ministrations. His efforts revealed that not all of the dark spots on her body were from dirt or blood. Truthfully, little of her skin wasn't covered in bruises, both fresh and a few days old. All along her back and sides were welts, some of which had formed open sores. Where there weren't welts, the skin was rubbed raw and torn where she had pressed up against the harsh stone wall probably trying to get away from whoever was causing her harm. He even noticed some fresh scars where he surmised that her injuries had become life threatening and someone had healed her with magic all so they could start over. Her wrists were rubbed raw from the steel cuffs. The hair under her arms had been violently ripped out leaving open scabs where it had taken off the skin. Every time she moved her arms, it would agitate those scabs in yet another cruel torture. Her neck had clear marks from where someone had been grabbing her throat with such strength that he could count the individual fingers in the bruises and her larynx was swollen. As he saw what had been done to her in detail, he could no longer hold back the tears. His anger still remained, but it was joined by pity and sympathy, as well as anguish over the knowledge that if he had worked faster and finished the damned lamp holder earlier, he could have spared her some of this suffering. He couldn't even say any words of comfort to her due to the shame he was feeling. Everything he wanted to say seemed so feeble and useless now. When he finally worked his way to her front and started carefully cleaning her chest, breasts, and stomach, what he found was worse. Her breasts were practically one giant series of bruises where someone had manhandled her without mercy. To his horror, he saw bite marks all across them and around her nipples from where monsters of men had abused her. He cleaned them as carefully as he could, but even the slightest touch caused her to flinch. He didn't know if it was the physical pain or the memories of what had happened to her that caused that reaction. The cut running down her center might not be lethal, but it would leave a permanent scar that was beyond his power to heal. With all of the scars and broken bones she suffered, she would forever be reminded of what happened down there. She would never be able to escape what was done to her and everyone who saw her would know her story. It wasn't fair to a woman who was so innocent of any wrongdoing. She had never harmed anyone or broken any laws, but she would never escape this unjust punishment. Her stomach was covered in what looked like oddly shaped burns that didn't really seem to hurt her when he cleaned them. It looked like someone had branded her with symbols, but he wasn't sure why they would do that. Perhaps it was something in some ancient Angvardi language that would only compound her shame and humiliation. He skipped the area below her navel for fear he would vomit in disgust at what injuries and abuse he would find. At this point, he wasn't if he could take seeing such depravity for much longer. Knowing that he still had a job to do, he pulled out a knife and slowly cut away the pants legs at mid-thigh so he could at least clean her legs. There was the normal assortment of cuts and bruises just like the rest of her body, but there was also something else. Someone had taken fire and burned her legs. In some places, her flesh had bubbled and peeled. In others, the hair on her legs had been scorched off and the skin below was red and tender. Syler knew of three different salves that could help heal and protect burns, but none of them were available to him here. All he had were simple poultices that he could apply to wounds to keep them clean and draw out any infection. When he got to her filthy feet, he could not believe that she was able to stand at all. Her toes had been broken one by one. Her soles had been cut and left to collect grime and excrement. Already, they were showing signs of infection. He had seen people wounded like this after being lost in the wilderness and being forced to walk barefoot for days, but by the time they got to this point, most would rather crawl than walk. She had not only walked, but hadn't complained one bit throughout the entire journey from the Temple to here. The tears were flowing freely down his face. It hurt him so much to see her like this, so abused and used up. The barbarians had come for her because of something she was born with and did unspeakable things to her for no reason other than that they could. He could tell by the marks on her body that many were not done during an interrogation, but were done simply to humiliate and denigrate her. They didn't just want information, they wanted to completely break her. Now that he had finished cleaning her, he could begin treating what he could. Before starting that step of the process, he took the time to gaze into her eyes and tried to smile to encourage her, but he didn't think it helped any. He wanted to kiss her, but feared causing her more pain from her split lip. She simply stared back at him, not really seeing his face, but at least not showing any signs of pain. She seemed mostly numb to what had happened to her. For that, Syler thanked his Elements and her Spirits both. He dressed the worst of the wounds and stood back up. Not knowing what else to do, he draped the clean shirt he got earlier over her shoulders to try to conceal her nakedness. "I will be right back, my love," he said. She didn't respond. With an armful of filth covered rags and a bucket of dirty water, Syler returned to the rest of those gathered on the other side of the yard. He dropped off what he had and got a fresh bucket of water and a couple more rags. He let out a sigh and found the person he needed. "Alltis," he said, "can I talk to you?" She had been helping some of the other women cleaning their own wounds, but when he spoke, she stood up. "Of course, Syler." He motioned for her to follow him away from the others. Clearly not wanting to leave the others, she hesitated until seeing the haunted look on in his eyes and the dried tears on his cheeks. After they had a little privacy, Syler said. "I need some help, and I don't know who else to ask." There was no hesitation in her response. "Anything I can do, you need but ask." He motioned over to where Bronwyn was sitting "I was able to clean most of her, but I could not finish the job. She is so filthy that I don't want to leave any part of her unwashed." He was not able to look into Alltis' eyes as he mumbled, "That, and there may be injuries…down there that need to be tended to. I don't think she would want me seeing that." Alltis looked confused for a moment, then caught on to what he was saying. "But she is your wife, surely…" Syler forced himself to look back at Alltis. "She may be my wife by law," Syler said after her voice faded away, "but I have not taken her in that way." "Why? I thought you loved her." Though there wasn't any condemnation in her voice, Syler looked at his feet in embarrassment. "I do, but it took losing her to the Shalktra to realize that I loved her in that way. At first, though, I didn't and would never have forced myself upon her. We were friends and cared for each other, but we didn't lie as husband and wife." Alltis' hand went to her mouth in astonishment and understanding brightened her eyes. "No wonder she looked so uncomfortable whenever we asked if she was with child. I think I understand, but it is still a surprise." She nodded to herself and said firmly, "I will take care of her, you have my word. Get yourself some water and try to relax while I work." Syler tried to calm himself down, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw the countless amounts of abuse inflicted upon the woman he loved. At some point, Havert came over and put a hand on his shoulder and just stood there with him in silence. Whether or not he was angry at him for killing the priest, he knew when Syler was hurting and was too much of a friend to leave him alone in such times. He hadn't seen much of Bronwyn, but he had been helping the other women as best as he could and the experience had left him even more pale than usual. After five minutes, Alltis returned to them. In a trembling voice, she said softly, "I have done what I could and she is dressed. I saw what happened to the other women, but what they suffered was nothing compared to what they did to Bronwyn. Why would anyone do that to another?" Syler could only shake his head in fury. "I am sorry you had to see that. I am forever in your debt." She wasn't able to respond before falling to her knees and vomiting. Leaving Havert to tend to his wife, Syler went back across the yard to tend to his own. He found Bronwyn sitting in the same shock he left her in and just sat next her in silence offering whatever support his presence would give her. After a long time, Bronwyn leaned her head on his shoulder and started crying softly. "I am sorry, Syler," she said. He tried to put the best smile on his face as he could despite the emotions that were running through his mind. "For what? You have done nothing wrong." "I should have stopped them, should have fought more, but I couldn't." The expression on her face was so pitiful, it nearly broke Syler's heart. "You were imprisoned, chained to a wall, there was nothing you could do." She shook her head and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, "I told them everything they wanted to know, I betrayed myself and you." Syler's brows furrowed and he frowned, "What do you mean? What do I have to do with anything?" "They wanted to know about my kvastat, I tried to resist, but then they…" she swallowed hard and fell silent. Syler took her hands in his and said softly, "I don't need to know, Bronwyn. You don't need to say it. They did unspeakable things to you and we killed as many of them as we could." She didn't seem to take much comfort from that, but she did continue, "They wanted to know about all of my kvastat, but when I told them about the ones with you in them, they seemed to get excited. They questioned me for hours about everything I knew about you. When I ran out of things to tell them, they continued to torture me. I don't know what they did, but it hurt so badly I felt like my mind was about to explode. Sometimes, they didn't even need to touch me to inflict pain, they just sat there and made silly gestures in the air. They would chant the in the most horrible voices saying things in a tongue I have never heard before." "They used magic on you," Syler said. "Magic is very powerful, I don't blame you for telling them everything. I doubt anyone could have resisted their methods. Do you know why they were so interested in your visions?" She began sobbing in great heaves now and shaking her head back and forth, "No, they would never say, they just kept asking questions. I should have tried to kill myself before telling them anything, but I couldn't." He put his arm around her being careful not to hit any of the obviously tender spots and said, "Hey now, none of that. I don't want to ever hear you say something like that. You survived and held on so I could rescue you. Bronwyn, I love you and I won't let anything happen to you again." "Don't make promises you can't keep, Syler Penion," she said between sobs. "You don't know what will happen. They want you for some reason. I don't know what it is, but they want you badly. It will never be safe for us here." "I know, that is why we aren't going to stay here in Kutiim. We are going to Sandrin. I want to find my sister, then we are going to start traveling west and won't stop until we are across the Metles. After that, we are going to find some unexplored land hidden away from everyone else and stay there forever." She smiled through her tears and said in a dreamy voice, "That sounds nice." "I love you and am sorry that I didn't see it before, I was foolish and blind. I love you and would be happy to call you my wife forever," Syler said. When she didn't respond, he looked at her. There was a faint smile on her face as the light faded from her eyes leaving nothing but vacancy there. For a second, Syler feared the worse and pressed a hand to her throat. To his relief, she grunted in pain and he could feel a pulse. He tried to get some sort of response from her, but it was as though her brain had simply shut down. Her eyes remained open, but they didn't see anything. He didn't know what that meant or what to do, so he simply sat there next to her, holding her up and trying to keep from breaking down into sobs of his own.