Orlan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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