Where Gods Fear

[Finnius]

Black, thick rain poured down. Walls of water flowed over the sheer stone cliffs and squat towers of Hammerfall. The night sky above Hammerfall was violent tonight; the clouds hung low, threatening a storm to come. But no storm would come tonight. The rain drummed on rooftops, keeping the citizens of this city awake in the dead of night. No moon would show through to glisten off cold granite tonight.

 

Fexus had returned. Hryn had known he was gone the moment the rain stopped. Despite the fact that Hammerfall was a city on the edge of the sea, straddling a waterfall, the rain never came without his prescence. No storm ever touched Hammerfall, save those the Master wished. It had been nearly a week without rain, nearly a week since he had left. Fexus was lord of all things in Hammerfall. Lord of Hryn, lord of the storm, bringer of rain. In Hammerfall, Fexus' word was life and death. His wish was law. And he was back now. On the outside perch of his Master's window, Hryn shivered.

 

Hryn remembered his first meeting with Fexus. The Lord of Hammerfall was an exceptionally charismatic man, an exceptionally masterful man. An extrordinarily dangerous man. Hryn had entered Hammer Keep on a summons, an inquiry into the matter of his birth. Moments after the stone gates had crashed shut behind him, Hryn had known his life was over. He could smell the fear and anger, the blind ambition present in the Lord of Hammerfall. Hryn had felt his death in the air. He'd been right, too. Fexus had killed him, had destroyed what he had once been. Fexus had killed Hryn. He just wasn't through with him yet.

 

"Hryn, you stupid filthy animal! Come to your master's call!" Hryn snapped back out of his mind. He could feel his master coming. Hryn scrabbled from his perch on the wet stone, slipping halfway out into the chill night air. He threw his arms in, grabbed the inside of the walls, pulled himself in by the elbows, tearing the soft skin of his arms. The master was in a bad mood tonight. Hryn decided to hurry. He worked himself back into the room and tore off through the keep, trailing water and small drops of blood behind him. He arrived, breathlessly, in the main hall just as his Master arrived.

 

Fexus strode into the main hall, resplendant in dark blue and grey robes, tied at the waist with a white silk cord. The inlaid gold pendant, a disc carved with a lion and snake, hung around his neck as always. On his hand he wore a ring, gold also, set with a ruby the size of the knuckle directly above it. His hair, dirty brown, streaked with iron grey, was slightly disheveled. His hair was always perfect. Always. Hryn shivered again. Fexus scowled at him. Hryn cringed inside. He knew what was coming, had been through it a thousand times in his head. Fexus would drag him to the top of the keep, as he had so many others who disappointed him, who failed him. He would kneel down, force Hryn to the cold stone, halfway choke the life out of him. He would let him breath just enough to know what was coming. He would drag him to the edge of the keep's top balcony, the one with no railing... He would make Hryn stumble out to the edge, look over it into the churning waters of the Falls, the monolithic black stones onto which those waters crashed. He would offer Hryn a choice. Walk off the balcony, let yourself die. He would stare at Hryn with those ice cold eyes, would make Hryn ask for the other option. He would remain silent, of course. The other option was plain. Resist. Try to resist.

 

"What are you doing cowering there, Hryn? Have the common decency to stand when your master addresses you! Have you heard anything I've said?" Fexus sounded angry. Hryn snapped back into himself once again. He hastily stood up, forced himself to his feet. He hadn't even realized he wasn't standing. Fexus fixed him with his eyes. His killer's eyes. "Good. Better, at least. Never good, not with you." The Lord of Hammerfall swept across the hall, stopped not six inches in front of Hryn. He raised his hand to Hryn's face, the cold granite of his skin bruising the soft flesh of Hryn's cheek in his gentlest caress. His eyes softened for a moment. "I have a job for you, my pet. Your master commands you."

 

Hryn closed his eyes, hoped the tears wouldn't come. Fexus was going to send him away again, make him do bad things to good people. Hryn had no choice, really. He was his Master's creature, to the bone. Fexus had made sure of that...

 

"Where am I going, Master? If I may be so bold..."

 

"You may, pet. This time. You are going to Cold Port, to the north. You will be met there and instructed further." Fexus' eyes hardened again. "Now leave me. I do not wish to see you until your task is finished. Away with you." And Fexus left the hall, following the trail of water and blood-spots that Hryn had so carelessly left on the stone.

 

---------

 

The ports of Hammerfall faced east. Hryn had cleaned himself up, had dressed himself in his browns and blacks. Had dressed his wounds under that, so that no one would see the wounds on his forearms. He had combed his black hair back into its place, had steeled his face, had resolved himself. He was a different creature outside the Keep. Here, he was the Master. Fexus sometimes had him go to functions in his place. He was the Master's will personified here, not his slave and pet. The ports faced east, faced the Frozen Sea. A bone-chilling wind swept over the docks, causing the dockhands to shiver and hold their arms, rub heat back into their skin. Hryn exulted in it, caressed the numbness and embraced it. He made his way to a small dock, reserved for this usage long ago. He nodded briefly to the aged dockhand who tended this boat, this ship of his. His voice was harsh, rough like gravel. Grainy. Sometimes women heard his voice and shied away. Sometimes they heard it and came closer. Hryn didn't care, really. He didn't care for women, or men... He was the Master's creature.

 

The boat hung low in the water, sleek and black. It was built for speed and for stealth, and excelled at both of these things. Fexus had commisioned it, and rejected the first two models. The shipwright's guild had shrunk by half that year. The ship's captian saluted Hryn, and welcomed him aboard. This would be a long trip. Cold Port was far to the north, and with only one port between Hammerfall and Cold Port, it would be a hungry trip as well. The boat was built for speed, not comfort. There was precious little room for rations. Luckily, it had a crew of only two. The ship's captain, Jekob Raust, and Hryn.

 

The black ship slipped quietly out into the night, into the Frozen Sea. The waves rocked the ship. Bits of ice broke against the bow. The night went by.

 

----------

 

Two days later, the black ship slid into port in Alt, on the tip of the Althinean Island. Alt was a large city, large and decadent. It sprawled for miles without planning or tending. Sloppy. Lazy.

 

The black ship stayed in port for a whole six hours, just long enough to re-supply, and for its crew to clean themselves off, and then it was off again, heading north on the last long stretch of its journey to Cold Port. Hryn had never been to Cold Port before, but he'd heard many stories. He was sure he'd be glad to leave there.

 

The trip took longer than expected, due to Hryn having to clambor down and break the ship out of inch-thick ice every two days. It wasn't called the Frozen Sea for nothing. All told, it took nearly two weeks to reach Cold Port. The city rose out of the morning, like a great brown slab of wood perched ominously on the edge of the Krishin Island. The black ship slid into port once more, and Hryn exited. Here he was to meet his contact. Time would reveal who that was.

 

Time would bring him back to the Master.

Edited May 21, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

It had been three days since Hryn had landed in Cold Port, and his contact still had not shown himself. Or herself. Or itself. Hryn was beginning to get impatient. He'd been to every tavern, every inn, every seedy alley in this god-forsaken city, and so far, had been met with nothing. Hryn paced across the rough floor of his room, in an inn called the Lonely Sailor. He'd picked it on a whim. The innkeeper, a greying woman by the name of Ellon, was polite, had offered him a warm cup of tea almost as soon as he'd entered the door. Hryn liked politeness. The Lonely Sailor was not the largest inn in Cold Port, nor the most lavish. But it was homey, something this town was distinctly lacking.

 

Cold Port was a largeish settlement; it thrived with trade, and travelers from all over the Mephitic Continent congregated in its crowded streets. It was home also to many criminals, vagrants, many homeless and starving, many sick and dying. Hryn could smell their sickness, could almost feel their desperation. He disliked it. And so he paced, back and forth across the rough wood planking on the second story of the Lonely Sailor, and waited for his contact to make itself apparent. A knocking came at the door.

 

"Come in." Hryn ceased his pacing, whipped himself around to face the door, only to find the weathered face of Mistress Ellon peering in at him.

 

"Ser, there's someone here to see you... says he has urgent business with you."

 

"Send him up, if you would. Thank you, ma'am."

 

Her head vanished out of Hryn's door, which closed softly behind her. Hryn prepared himself for whatever was about to walk through his door. Another tapping at his door, another soft creak as it opened. In the doorway stood a young man, maybe twenty, likely younger. He was nervous, Hryn could tell from his posture, from the way he constantly shifted his weight onto one foot, from the way he hadn't met Hryn's eyes yet. He wasn't much to look at. Average height, a bit on the scrawny side. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark complection. He wore brown leather pants and a white shirt, a grey wool jacket. No obvious weapons. He carried a package tied with string in one hand.

 

"Either come in or stay out, but close the door whatever you do." The youth hesitantly stepped into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. "Speak," commanded Hryn.

 

"I... er, I was told to come see you, sir. I'm supposed to give this to you." The young man held out the package in one hand. He had the look of someone holding a live snake, and not sure which end he was holding onto. Hryn grabbed the parcel out of his trembling hand and deftly snapped the string that bound it shut. The youth turned to go.

 

"Stay." Hryn fixed him with his steel gaze on the boy, commanding him to stay put with no more than a twitch of his eye. He turned back down to the package. It unsealed to reveal a folded pack of clothing, dark blues and blacks. On top of this was a letter, sealed with the ruby signet of the Lord of Hammerfall. This, Hryn placed aside to read later. Messages from the Master were often dangerous, or at the very least fraught with confusion. They were not to be read in haste. Another letter was folded into the clothes, and this Hryn opened right away, as it bore no signet.

 

It was addressed to Hryn, as he'd known it would be. He scanned it slowly, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. After a moment, Hryn closed his eyes, a slow grimace spreading across his face. The Master was obviously irrate with him again. Hryn breathed deeply, drew the air into his lungs, forced it back out. He opened his eyes. The youth was still in the room. Hryn was pleased with that. He favored the boy with a smile.

 

"Tell me lad; what's your name?" As the boy opened his mouth to answer, Hryn threw a hand up in the air and spoke again. "Wait. Nevermind. Answer this first. Where did you get this package?"

 

"I... I... it..."

 

"Spit it out, boy!," Hryn snapped.

 

"Some man gave it to my da... said it was for me. And I just heard about it this morning, so don't go thinking I'm holding anything back!" He had fire in his eyes, this one did... Hryn liked him. He turned away, ignored the boy for the moment.

 

Hryn seperated out the clothing, two shirts, one blue, the other black. Two pairs of pants, in the same combination. A fine silk overshirt and black leathers rounded out the package. They were sized far too small for Hryn's well-muscled frame. Which left open only one conclusion. He had been sure there was more to this boy than a simple deliverer of messages.

 

"Now answer the first question. What is your name?"

 

The boy stared at Hryn's back, still busy with the clothing. "My name is Gavin. Gavin-" Hryn cut him off with a wave of his hand again.

 

"You're last name is unimportant. I just needed to know what to call you. Fine, then... Gavin. It appears that you and I will be getting to know each other a bit better over the next few days. My name is Hryn. You'll be working for me." Hryn tossed the blue set of clothing over to the boy. "Now put these on and we can get started."

 

------------

 

The boy had rebelled at first, naturally. He had whined about having something called a 'Free Will.' Hryn knew better, and had told him so. The boy had tried to run away at first. Hryn had caught him and held him down, had let him beat his fists against Hryn's chest until his knuckles bled. And in the end, Gavin had given in. Getting him to wear the clothes was the easy part, getting him to look comfortable in them... The boy had potential, though. He had a good voice.

 

------------

 

Cold Port was home to many tradehouses. Long, low buildings where merchants gathered like ants buzzing over a drop of honey, viper's dens where lives were bought and sold like so much wheat. Gavin entered, swinging the door wide for Hryn. He bowed low over his hand, just so, as he had been instructed to. As Hryn passed, though, Gavin shot him a look of disdain, and animosity deeper than the Frozen Sea...

 

--------------

 

The Lonely Sailor had been a good acquisition, and Hryn was well pleased with it. Mistress Ellon still ran it, of course, but the profits were now split two ways instead of one. Hryn had given the boy his own room, just across the hall from his own. Hryn had been tutoring him in unarmed combat, and Gavin was starting to understand the basics. Soon it would be time to start the sparring matches, and for the boy to meet his first assignment.

 

--------------

 

Gavin picked himself up off the ground for the fifth time, and sprung towards Hryn with all the desperation of a starving dog. Hryn caught the boy by the shoulder, casually tripped him, and flipped Gavin onto his backside... for the sixth time. He sighed as he dusted his hands and prepared for the boy's next assault.

 

"Focus yourself, boy! Fight with your head, if you want to win! If all you're after is a quick bruising and broken ribs, though, I suggest you continue as you-" Gavin spun quickly from the ground to his feet, and continued along his arch, bringing his heel around to connect with Hryn's face. Hryn's head whipped to the side, with a slight popping noise as the small bones in his neck grated against each other. He stayed there for a moment, contemplated what had just happened. Gavin stood spellbound, waiting for Hryn to move. Hryn twisted his neck back with more popping sounds, to look Gavin dead in the eyes. He cracked a smile, and a slight chuckle.

 

"That was good. I didn't teach you that..."

 

"I'm... I'm..." Gavin began backing away, fear creeping into his eyes. Hryn chuckled again, then threw his head back into a full laugh.

 

"Think nothing of it! It means that you're getting better!" Hryn lowered his head again, all trace of mirth leaving his face as quickly as heat lightning. "Now do it again."

 

The boy was almost ready...

Edited May 21, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

Gavin sat in his room, looking out the window as the morning mist settled over Cold Port. He'd been indentured to Hryn for almost a month, now, and the older man showed no signs of letting Gavin go back about his life. The boy had been scared at first, then angry, then scared again... now, he was numb. He had no more misconceptions of escaping his new master's grasp. His only hope was that Hryn would eventually tire of him. Outside of the window, a light rain began to fall, gently tapping against the glass. Gavin sighed and waited for Hryn to knock on his door. He would come, eventually. Sometimes he let Gavin stay in his room until nearly nightfall, but he always came.

 

---------------

 

Hryn walked the streets of Cold Port in the early morning fog. People passed him by, never looking him in the eye, never knowing how much he saw of them. Hryn could smell the fear in these people, could sense their desperation, their... hollowness. They lived day-to-day lives in little day-to-day houses, doing meaningless tasks for their social betters, whom they hated. They reminded Hryn of himself, and so he ignored them. He was not unaware of the irony of his situation. Fexus had known this would happen, had known what course Hryn would take, the only course he knew.

 

Hryn stopped outside a three-story building, one of a very few stone structures in Cold Port. Slate steps led up to wide double-doors; rotund marble pillars supported a heavy granite overhang. This was one of the Three Courts, or so his letter had claimed. The Courts were ancient... immense artifacts of great importance, or so Fexus had said. As for what they actually did... Hryn had his suspicions, gleaned from what Fexus had let slip, but they were no more than that. In any case, the building was being used as a prison, and unsurprisingly, a courthouse.

 

Hryn was to enter the structure, find someone by the name of Loryn Halgus, and proceed under said person's orders from there. He had no description of this person, no idea where he was to find them, not even a gender to go by. Hryn sighed and started up the stairs.

 

------------------

 

There was a knocking at Gavin's door. The boy started up from where he had fallen asleep next to his window. He quickly walked over to the door, smoothing down his clothes as he went... Hryn disapproved of sloppiness. As he reached out his hand to open the door, it burst inwards, giving Gavin a crack to the wrist. Two men in rough brown leathers darted into the room with black strips of cloth tied around their faces, just below the eyes. One of them shoved the door back into place, and positioned himself to intercept anyone who might come in that way. The other spun a fist into Gavin's face, or tried to. Gavin reacted with a quickness born of Hryn's constant training. His mind was a thing apart from his body, which deftly caught the fist and twisted it down, and to the side. The man stumbled, And Gavin's body tripped him. He fell on his back, and the last thing he would ever see was Gavin's open palm striking down to break his nose, push the bone backwards into his brain.

 

Gavin paused there, blood on his hand, mouth working open and close, like a fish gasping in the air. Gavin felt a slight pressure at the back of his head, moments before he blacked out, and remembered that there had been two men in the room...

 

-------------------

 

Hryn did not stalk silently through the stone corridors of the Court. Nor did he try to creep, or remain silent. He walked with an air of comfort, stopped a passerby with the look of someone who belonged there, and asked to be shown to Loryn. The first person he stopped did not know, and so he tried another. Several times, he tried this, and eventually gathered that Loryn was a woman, one who worked here in an official capacity, although no one seemed willing to discuss what that capacity was.

 

Hryn wandered the hallways for several hours before finding someone who could, or would, actually point him to his quarry. He followed the directions he was given to a small office on the second floor, where sat a woman at an oak desk, filing through stacks of paper. She had blonde hair, and wore black. She ignored Hryn, though he was standing her doorway with his arms crossed, obviously watching her. Hryn cleared his throat.

 

The woman, supposedly Loryn, looked up from her desk. "Yes? What can I do for you?" Her voice was low, husky, melodic. Useful.

 

"I'm here about a letter from Hammerfall." Hryn sauntered into the room, producing the letter in question and gently laying it on the desk, faced towards the woman. Her face betrayed nothing as she read over the letter.

 

"So," she began, looking Hryn up and down disapprovingly, "This is what Fexus sends me... just what I expected from him." She stood up from behind her desk, displaying her tall frame. She was angled. A fighter, a scrapper at least.

 

"Fexus sends as he will. You are Loryn Halgus? Yes? I am Hryn." There was a tense moment of silence. Loryn broke it first.

 

"Hryn... I've heard the name... so you're the great Fixer that Fexus speaks so highly of? Can't say that I'm impressed. Still, I should be thankful that he actually bothered to send someone..." She sat back down and motioned for Hryn to take the seat opposite from her. When he remained standing, she crossed her arms and stared at him. "Fine, stand then. I assume that you understand the basic outlay of your orders?"

 

"Of course."

 

"Would you mind repeating them for me, then?" The woman actually grinned at him. She was having fun toying with Hryn, enjoying being in control. Hryn would have to change that. He'd play along for now, though.

 

"Essentially, Fexus is looking to solidate his command of the Courts; to which end he needs a controlling say in Cold Port. While you do not yet have any kind of influence in this city, you share... views... in common with the Master. I am to help attain this influence for you. Am I forgetting anything?"

 

Loryn smiled, a harsh smile that never touched her eyes. "Adequate."

[Finnius]

It was dark when Gavin woke. He opened his eyes to pitch black, felt the bindings around his arms and legs, felt the noose around his neck. He was perched on a stool or somesuch... an easy target. He could hear scuffling in the room, the scraping of feet on wood, and scurrying claw-clicks... mice, or rats. There was a gag in his mouth. Speech invaded the darkness.

 

"... sure you got the right one? That scrawny piece of flesh doesn't look like any Hryn that I ever heard of..."

 

"He killed Gerald with his bare hands... and Gerald weren't no pushover. This's yer man." A thump and a clink; a bag of coins hitting the ground?

 

"He'd better be. Take your money and leave, worm, before I change my mind about letting you live." Hasty scraping sounds, thumping of boots, creaking of a door. A heavy thwock as the door closed again.

 

There was silence, then. Silence deeper than the darkness, and then a crackling sound and the flicker of a light being struck. A point of fire resolved itself into a dim candle, held in a thick fist. The light drew a silhoutte for Gavin, a large, squat figure. The figure moved towards Gavin, moving surprisingly silently through the room. It glided more than walked. The figure came closer, and defined itself into a thickset man, bearded and robed in dark red. It studied Gavin for a moment, looked him in the eye. Gavin looked back.

 

"Well, at least you're awake... that's a good start. It means that I don't have to wait for you, or take measures." The man leaned forward, conspiratorily, and whispered. "So I hear that you're the much-fabled Hryn... tell me... is it true?"

 

Gavin's brain fumbled for an answer. The man hadn't met Hryn before, but had heard of him, a distinct advantage over Gavin... until he'd met the man, Gavin had heard no more about him than he'd heard of anyone else he didn't know. Hryn claimed to work for Fexus, though, a definite and powerful individual. Everyone knew of the Lord of Hammerfall, knew of the ruler of the largest city-state in the known world. All Gavin knew of him, he'd picked up in the weeks of training that Hryn had imposed on him. Luckily, the gag in his mouth prevented Gavin from speaking. He simply stared at the man with all the disinterest and cold-heartedness that he could muster.

 

"Ah, how impolite of me," the fat man chuckled, as if he and Gavin were old friends, "let me get rid of that..." He produced a thick knife from within the sleeves of his robe, slid it under the cloth of the gag. Gavin felt cold steel press against his cheek, felt the blade turn towards him, oh so slightly... the thick man breathed deep, and his eye twitched, his hand trembled... and then he slid the knife outwards, severing the gag neatly, leaving a slight nick on Gavin's cheek. "Now, answer the question... are you Hryn?"

 

---------------

 

Hryn left the office of Loryn Halgus after several hours of tedious information dumping. Loryn had wanted him to go over the working papers of every man and woman in Cold Port, initially, and when Hryn had flat-out told her that he would not, she lowered it to only the ones employed at the Court. Hryn had reluctantly agreed to that, and had spent the remainder of the day memorizing names and facts. Loryn wanted him back in the morning for some sort of meeting with one of her superiors... someone that Hryn would have to eventually kill, if he understood the woman's prattle correctly.

 

She enjoyed running Hryn through circles, making him jump the hoops like a common dog... Frustrating... Hryn was still unsure why Fexus wanted her in power here, wanted her as his agent in Cold Port. But he would obey the Master's wish; he could do little else. A light rain began to drizzle down over the city. Hryn raised his head and let it coat him.

 

-----------------

 

"Yes... yes, I am. And who would that make you?" Gavin had decided to play along, eventually. The big man was scared of Hryn, Gavin could tell that from the way his eyes never quite held Gavin's gaze for more than a moment, the way his hand kept moving back to the lump where his knife was stored, as if to make sure it was still there. He would not share the same fear of Gavin... not yet, anyway. The man opened his mouth, on the verge of answering, then shut it again.

 

"I'll ask the questions here, dog of Fexus. Why are you in Cold Port? Fexus knows well that he isn't wanted here, and he's been pushed back before..." Gavin's mind reacted faster than even he realized, forming lies and half-truths before he could think about them, and transmitting the words to his mouth, which opened almost on its own.

 

"My business is my own, as well as my Master's. What is it to you? Who do you work for?" The man narrowed his eyes, took a dangerous step forward, closer to Gavin... he was almost close enough for Gavin to smell his breath.

 

"Do you not realize where you are, dog? You are standing on your dying chair... all I have to do is kick this from beneath you, and you will hang..." The man glanced down, involuntarily. The muscles in his leg twitched. For a moment, Gavin was sure he was going to do it, was going to hang him here. "Cold Port is the property of the Dead Council. I will ask you again: Why has Fexus sent his dog here?"

 

Gavin leaned his head forward, looked the man straight in the eye... held his gaze.

 

"If you call me dog one more time, you will not leave this room alive. That, I promise you." Pure Hryn. Gavin only hoped it would be enough to intimidate the man. The thick man's lips began to twitch, oppositely timed with his eyes. His face looked like some strange metronome. His breath was ragged now... he was angry. Afraid, and angry.

 

------------------

 

Hryn paused outside the doors of the Lonely Sailor. He considered not going in, considered letting the boy have a day without Hryn's constant berating. He considered letting the boy go back home, had considered it from the start. He knew what the Master wanted, though. The boy did have potential, and Hryn would see that potential fulfilled. And so he entered the inn, walked up the stairs.

 

Hryn knew something was wrong the moment he saw Gavin's door. The boy never left his door open. Hryn slowly approached the door, pulled it the rest of the way open. There was a dead man in Gavin's room, his nose broken back into his skull... he'd died quickly. Hryn dipped his fingers in the man's blood. It was cooling, but not cold... the boy had likely been gone for at least an hour, though, and really no way to tell. Hryn had killed men this way, before, and sometimes the heart didn't stop beating for quite a while. Sometimes, the body stayed alive, futiley rasping lungs trying to wake the dead nervous system.

 

And sometimes, where the Dead Court was involved, the body succeeded. Hryn did not think this would be the case, however. If it was to happen, it would have already. Once the blood cooled, there wasn't much chance for resurrection. Hryn studied the room further. Aside from the dead man, there was surprisingly little sign of struggle... no broken glass, no tipped wash-basin. The door was slightly off-kilter.

 

Hryn grinned. So the boy had been kidnapped... or ran away. Either way, he'd come back on his own, or he'd end up dead. Hryn was interested to see which it would be.

 

----------------------

 

"I tire of this game, Hryn... tell me why you're here, or I let you hang. This is your last chance." The big man had become more agitated the longer Gavin had dodged his questions. Unbeknownst to him, however, Gavin had been slowly working the bonds on his wrists loose. They were almost off, but the dolt wouldn't be able to see that in this low light... At least he'd stopped calling Gavin 'dog.'

 

"Then do it and cease your gumflapping, you rotund idiot!" The man snarled and drew his knife, intent on gutting Gavin before he hung him. It was time to strike, and Gavin did, with all the speed and ferocity he could muster. His legs whipped out as his arms broke the bonds at his wrists. He kicked the fat man square in the jaw, as his hands shot up and grabbed the noose around his neck, slipping his head out and swinging around for another kick. The man grunted as Gavin's boot connected with his jaw, reeled slightly. The second kick caught him in the wrist, as he was raising the knife to strike. Gavin heard the bones snap, saw the man's wrist bend at an odd angle as he screamed in pain. He dropped the knife and fell to his knees, holding his shattered wrist.

 

Gavin let go of the noose, dropped to the floor. He bent to pick up the knife from the floor where it lay, and cut the bonds around his ankles. The man looked up at him with fear and loathing in his eyes. He looked so helpless, so... wet. Tears streamed down his face, he sniffled constantly... there was a trail of mucus from his round nose down to his wide, thick lips. Gavin knelt down, held the knife in one hand so that the man could see it.

 

"Now... you will listen to me." The man looked up at Gavin, his lips trembling. "You are going to walk out of here alive, not because you deserve to live, not because I have any mercy for you... You will go to your masters and give them a message." Gavin paused, stared at the man. He could wait all night, would wait. The man would ask, eventually. It took not one minute.

 

"Wh- what mess- what message?"

 

Gavin smiled, showed his teeth to the man. The man cringed, for some reason.

 

"I believe that showing is better than telling. Give me your hand." Gavin placed the knife in the fat man's good hand, and motioned to his broken wrist. The slow realization dawned on the fat man, his face twisted into a visage of utter terror. Gavin could only reflect on the fact that, even though he had the knife, the man was still terrified of him. He would not attack again. "Be quick about it, that's the best way. There's a good edge on that blade, I could tell when you pressed it to my face. Shouldn't take more than one good swing." The fat man's eyes widened, became saucers full of fear. His head began swinging back and forth, soundless protestations falling off his lips. Gavin leaned forward, met the man's eyes. "If you don't do it, I will. And I will use no knife."

 

The man slowly, painfully moved the knife toward his wrist. He shook, violently, his body refusing the task that was set to it. Gavin continued to stare him down. The man touched the steel to his wrist, and drew a sharp breath. His eyes scrunched up, and he whimpered slightly... then he passed out.

 

Gavin stayed stooped down for a moment, watched the thin trail of blood trickle down the man's wrist... it really would need to be taken off, it would never set properly at that angle, and would only end up getting infected. Still... Gavin took the knife from the man's hand and planted it firmly through the floor, to the hilt. Planted it directly in front of the man's face, so that the knife would be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

 

And then he took the candle, found the door, and walked out onto the streets of Cold Port, to find his way back to the Lonely Sailor. Not once had he thought about running away.

 

Hryn would be proud.

[Finnius]

My lord Fexus,

 

Your faithful servant regrets to inform you that your one-time comrades have again taken notice of your actions in Cold Port. You know the ones I speak of. Two days ago, they kidnapped the boy, mistaking him for me. He proved himself admirably against adverse odds. You would have been proud to see him come back to me, blood on his face and resolve in his eyes. He has fire in him, Master, more so than I ever did.

 

I am currently taking measures to keep myself and the boy safe from your former allies' depredations... however, knowing your intent for him, I am not sure how much longer I will be able to do so. Any further aid would be appreciated, although I realize it is unlikely you will send any. In this, as in all else, I trust your greater wisdom.

 

Also, the woman Loryn Halgus is becoming rather... difficult. She is too ambitious, Master. Just yesterday she had me assassinate two High Judges in full view of the public... granted, it was whatever public could be found in a ratty bar in an even rattier section of town, but the point stands. I am requesting leave to do away with her at my earliest possible convenience.

 

As Ever, Your Servant,

Hryn

 

The Lord of Hammerfall scanned the note quickly, chuckling to himself. His dog was an admirable piece of work, one of Fexus' most loyal and efficient agents... not that Fexus would ever admit that to the man. So the Dead Council was aware of his prescence in Cold Port... well, it wouldn't be the first time Hryn had been there, although it might well be the last. If Hryn failed in this task... this, most important of tasks...

 

Fexus gently took the letter from his desk and swept over to the window of his study. He peered out into the dim light of day. A storm was brewing over Hammerfall, a storm was always brewing somewhere... Fexus thought he might let this one come, though.

 

---------------

 

"Tell me about the Dead Council, Hryn." The boy was rabid for knowledge, had been since his kidnapping. It was irritating.

 

"I've told you already, you're not ready to know. Now pick up that quarterstaff and attack me." Gavin bent down to the soft ground of the small courtyard behind the Lonely Sailor, wrapped his fingers around the smooth wood of the staff. He stayed crouched low, like a desert puma ready to strike.

 

"Good stance..." Hryn readied himself for the boy's attack, stayed perfectly still. He stood straight and tall, an easy target. The boy bounded forward, darted in towards Hryn's knees. Hryn stepped over the sweep of his legs easily, and brought his foot down on Gavin's countersweep with the quarterstaff. The boy let go of the staff, sprung upwards with both fists. Hryn weaved back, avoiding the blow, and caught the boy behind his knees with a quick turn of his leg. Gavin's leg folded in half, and the boy went down again. Hryn sighed and shook his head.

 

"And you had so much potential, for a moment there. Tell you what; for every successful strike, I will answer one question. Now try again." Hryn walked to the opposite side of the courtyard. Gavin picked up the staff one more time, and took the same low stance that they'd been working on since sun-up. His body was tired and sore, and his mind ached from the exertion of trying to keep up with Hryn's constant beratement. This would be his last run for the day, regardless of whether he succeded or failed, and they both knew it.

 

They stood there, still for a moment; the only movement the wind rustling through the grass. Gavin stared at Hryn, Hryn stared back at Gavin.

 

The wind shifted, Gavin leapt forward. He rushed in low, like he had before, came almost to Hryn's knees, then swung his momentum upwards. Hryn caught the staff as it darted towards his jaw... Gavin had counted on it, and released the staff the moment Hryn's hand closed on it. Gavin thrust his palm into Hryn's thigh, planted a knee into his gut. He swung around and grabbed the staff, just below where Hryn was holding it, and twisted. The staff slipped out of Hryn's grasp, cracking him in the shoulder. Hryn reached out with one hand and caught Gavin by the throat. He lifted him off the ground, and tossed him halfway across the courtyard. And then he laughed.

 

"Good job, boy! By my count you have three questions! Ask away..."

 

---------------

 

Fexus watched the lightning play over his city for a while. He was enjoying this storm, but there were more pressing matters to attend to, and so he turned from his study's window and walked over to the desk, where a large map was spread out. It was old, and made of tightly-stretched leather. The map showed all of the known world, the Althinean Island to the east, a large crescent with one point just past the southern corner of the Mephitic Island, and the other bowed down to almost touch Hammerfall near the center. The Mephitic and Althinean Islands were really too large to be named so, but the tradition was older than anyone could remember, and so it continued. The Krishin Island to the north, however, was just small enough to deserve its title. There were two red wooden markers placed on the map. One was positioned on Hammerfall, one on Cold Port. A small bowl of them stood beside the map, waiting for their places.

 

There was a knock on the door. Fexus answered without looking up.

 

"Come in."

 

The door swung open silently, admitting one of the many nameless servants that kept Hammer Keep clean and tidy. Nameless to Fexus, at least. It was a woman, in her middle years. She walked hesitantly.

 

"S-ser, the Head Cook w-wishes t-to inform you th-th-" Fexus' eyes narrowed, and the woman continued hastily. "She f-found someone in the kitchens, m'lord... thought you should know about it..." Fexus' eyes became narrow slits in his face, a low growl escaped his throat.

 

"And why, pray tell, did she think that? Why not just inform the guards, or the Head of Security, instead of sending a scullery maid to tell me directly?" The woman dropped her eyes, whined under her breath, where she thought Fexus could not hear.

 

"H-he was... he was d-dead, and there was this... this p-powder stuffed in his mouth, see? It was all b-black an-" Fexus wheeled around, swept to the woman, grabbed her shoulders.

 

"Why didn't you mention that first? Take me to him! Now!"

 

From below, from the kitchen, came a muffled sound, like caged thunder...

 

Fexus scowled.

 

-----------------

 

Gavin lay on the ground, working the air back into his lungs. He took the time to consider his three questions carefully. When he could breathe well enough to talk, Gavin picked himself up, dusted himself off, and asked his first question.

 

"What, exactly, is the Dead Council? And no one word answers!" Hryn crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

 

"Well aren't we the demanding little lord?" Gavin's face darkened, and Hryn raised his hands in mock-terror. "Fine, fine, don't want the little warrior to kill me for my impertinence, now do I?" The smile left Hryn's face. "The Dead Council is a group of five individuals with more power than any five people should posses. It is old, dating back to the founding of Cold Port, nearly three hundred years ago. While most members of the Council have changed since its inception, rumor would dictate that its head has not."

 

"Wait... Hryn, you're telling me that the head of this Dead Council is nearly three hundred years old?" Hryn closed his eyes and grinned.

 

"Yes, yes I am."

 

"But how is that possible?"

 

"There are more things in this world than just humans like us, boy. The Head of the Council is one of those things. Now let's get inside and see what Mistress Ellon's prepared for dinner." Gavin opened his mouth to protest, and then realized that Hryn had tricked him out of two of his questions. He seethed inside, called himself a fool and worse, and eventually resolved not to let it happen again. He hung his head and sighed.

 

"Fine, Hryn... dinner sounds good."

 

"Cheer up, boy, at least you got one good answer!"

 

Gavin spat on the ground.

Edited July 2, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

The kitchen was completely destroyed... debris scattered around and bodies strewn all over the floor... the Head Cook would have been livid, had she not been among the dead. Fexus strode into the scene, motioning for the servant woman to follow him. She did so, nervously shaking. Pathetic. Fexus swept past the overturned tables and shattered crockery, past the bloodied bodies of his former kitchen staff. He glared in disgust at a severed arm hanging delicately from one of the few still-standing candle-holders. The woman, nameless servant that she was, stayed close behind him.

 

Fexus walked over broken glass and crunching bones, and came eventually to the kitchen's pantry, where sat the limp form of a dead man, dressed in black. He had no lower jaw, and what was left of his upper seemed drawn up at the corners, as if the man were grinning at Fexus from beyond the grave. Fexus crouched down, looked the dead man in what remained of his eyes... they were remarkably well-preserved. His face was burned, blackened from heat. Fexus stretched out a hand, gingerly lifted the top half of the man's skull. He grinned, and glanced back up to the serving woman, still trembling. "Look here," he said, motioning for her to come closer. She stifled a whimper and did so.

 

"See the inside of his jaws?" Fexus pointed at the man's palate, traced the inside of his tooth-line. "It's mainly melted off, but you can still see a trace... tell me, do you see it?" The woman trembled, shook, drew closer and examined where Fexus directed.

 

"Y-yes... sir... th-there's... there's some m-metal in there... around the t-top."

 

Fexus chuckled. "Yes, yes, very good. Do you understand what that means? Can you put the clues together?"

 

The woman's eyes grew wider, her mind raced frantically.

 

"H-he had m-metal in his m-mouth?" Fexus smiled patronizingly.

 

"Yes, dear, he had metal in his mouth. In fact, I would say that the whole thing was coated in it... a painful process, to be sure." He began drawing his hand around the man's destroyed cavity. "Imagine what it must have been like... your mouth forced open, held there by clamps or a strong hand..." Fexus' grin widened. "And then the agony as molten metal was forced in, held in place until it cooled..." Fexus shivered. "The Council is getting bold." He looked over at the serving woman, and absently pointed to a corpse laying near. "Bring me the jaw, the lower one only should do... and make sure to keep the tongue intact."

 

The woman covered her mouth and began silently mouthing a prayer. Fexus raised his head and stared her in the eyes, unblinking.

 

"Do it."

 

------------

 

Mistress Ellon was an excellent cook, and a good keeper of affairs. Nearly every evening she brought Hryn and Gavin expertly prepared meals, and brought Hryn news of the local traders, the men who dealt in land. She had also kept him informed of anyone asking to see him since Gavin had been kidnapped. This evening, she brought him an excellent sweet duckling and two letters for dessert. The first was from one Loryn Halgus, and consisted of names and addresses; people Hryn would have to dispose of, to his annoyance. The second was more urgent, and much more important. It bore no name, no coat of arms. It was sealed with a large drop of dark green wax.

 

Cracking the wax and unfolding the letter, Hryn was surprised to see a name at the top that he recognized. It was the name of a man long dead... one whom Hryn had been quite familiar with. Hryn scanned the letter quickly, then read through more thoroughly.

 

Dear Mallon Hloran,

 

It is with the most distinct and savory pleasure that I am informed of your prescence in Cold Port. One of my vassals has informed me of your brief stay as a guest of my Council, and I am pleased to see that you have not lost a whit of your edge in your servitude to that bastard Fexus.

 

I have also been informed by my lower Council that they wish you dead. I have no urge to see such an exquisite killer as yourself removed from this world, Mallon. I am willing to offer you a place at my side. Fexus told me once that you were his most trusted assassin. You can be the same for me, if you wish.

 

You have these choices:

 

Join me and die, momentarily. Live again and be my right-hand man.

 

Resist me, and die. Rise as a puppet.

 

Your choice, Mallon, think on it.

 

-Garod Loghis

 

Hryn thought over the letter, thought over the name. In the end, he lowered his head and chuckled. The Council had guts.

 

------------

 

Fexus took the bloody mass of flesh from the shivering, pathetic woman's hands, and then dismissed her. He deftly forced the bones into their proper settings in the dead man's skull. He worked the jaw up and down with his hands a few times, felt the muscle reattach. Fexus smiled and fingered the pendant around his neck. He watched with great interest as the dead man's eyes rolled back into their sockets, popping wetly as they found their settings. The body twitched momentarily, the lungs sucked air into the chest cavity, a hollow, rasping cough followed. Fexus dropped the smile and thrust his hand forward to grab the dead man's throat, the blood still wet on his hands.

 

"Good to see that you yet breath. And if it can breath, and it has a tongue, it can talk. And you will talk." Fexus gave a brief squeeze for emphasis, and then gave enough room for words. "You work for the Dead Council, correct?"

 

The thing made a wet gurgling sound, as it adjusted to its new mouth. Its eyes held fear, and a small touch of madness. Fexus narrowed his eyes, and the thing began to speak. It had a voice like ashes ground underfoot.

 

"The Council sends their regards, Lord of Hammerfall... your servant is a dead man walking." Fexus gave a half-grin.

 

"Getting lippy already, is it?" He tightened his grip on the thing's throat and began musing to himself. "I suppose they programmed that into you, though, for circumstances like this... but what shall I do if it can't keep its wits and answer simple questions?" Fexus ground the thing's voice box between his fingers, and it writhed in pain. "I promise you, my Hryn is no fool, and more than a match for any corpse. Why is the Council intruding here?" He released his grip and the thing slumped against the wall.

 

"They are only retaliating because you have invaded Cold Port! You know you are not welcome there!" Fexus chuckled and stretched out his other hand to take the creature's fingers in his grip. He began bending them back.

 

"I go where I please. No man, living or dead shall bar my passage." He snapped the thing's fingers back, and it howled. Fexus clenched its throat, cutting off the sound abruptly. He forced its head back against the cold stone wall and glared into its eyes. "Your Head once told me that he could see through the eyes of each of his servants, that he could hear their words. Let's hope for your sake that he wasn't just boasting."

 

Fexus crushed the thing's neck with one hand, and hoisted the corpse from the kitchen floor. He slung it over his shoulder and left the room. The nameless serving woman was kneeling, her back against the wall and her head in her hands as he left. Fexus stared down at her for a moment.

 

"Cheer up, woman! I hereby appoint you the new Head Cook, with all benefits and priviliges thereof. Now get to work cleaning that mess up!"

 

------------

 

A knock came at Gavin's door. Gavin lay still on his bed, staring at the ceiling and called out, "Come in!"

 

The door creaked open to admit Hryn. He walked over to the bed and took a seat next to Gavin's feet, looked him in the face.

 

"We need to talk, boy." His tone was serious, deathly so. "Tomorrow you will acompany me when I go out..."

 

Gavin sat up, crossing his legs on the bed. Hryn continued.

 

"There may be fighting involved, and killing... I warn you, death is no easy thing. And it never gets easier... not unless you lose your conscience." Gavin opened his mouth to interupt, but Hryn raised a warning hand. "Don't... this is hard enough without your gabbing. Boy... Gavin... I know that you look at me as some kind of monster, that you think I am unjust. I will not disagree with that. Understand though, if I hadn't taken you when I did, someone else would have. For one with the right eye, you stand out like a beacon, you blaze with potential. Tomorrow you will meet that potential. You will kill, and you will not know why. You will only know who. I warn you now, never look for the why... it always ends badly." Hryn patted the boy's leg, a soothing gesture. "Now get some sleep, you'll need it."

 

Gavin piped in as Hryn left the room. "Hryn..." Hryn turned to face him. "You're right... I do think you're a monster. You deserve to die." Hryn chuckled.

 

"Who knows, boy, you may even be the one to kill me. Now sleep." And he left the room.

Edited July 2, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

Cold stone chilled Gavin's hands as he scrambled across the roof of the Court. Hryn had said there was a hole big enough for the boy to get through, a disused chimney or somesuch. He hadn't specified where, of course; that would be too easy. So Gavin slunk along the smooth marble roof, splayed out with his hands doing as much work as his feet. It was cold and the sun was just a lighter patch of gray on the clouds which threatened a frozen rain any moment now. Gavin shivered and continued on.

 

-------------

 

The inside of the Court was warm, as always. This place sapped the heat from Hryn's body, though... it felt wrong today, felt like a too-tight jacket. He kept his face smooth and walked down the hall to the office of Loryn Halgus. Hryn really, truly despised the woman. She was typical of the stupid, self-centered bureaucracy that infected this city. So far, all Hryn had done for her was kill. She didn't even try to think of his other capabilities, didn't even ask about them, and so Hryn didn't tell her.

 

The door loomed closer, now. Hryn had come to dread this part of the day... the meaningless lecturing, the droll little quips. Hryn sighed and opened the door.

 

--------------

 

A slow drizzle coated Gavin. He'd found the chimney that Hryn had mentioned, but it wasn't quite as disused as Gavin had been led to believe. A thick trail of smoke drifted up into the gray sky. Gavin sat on the roof and tried to figure out how he was going to get into the Court at Cold Port.

 

--------------

 

Hryn stood in the doorway, head cocked to one side. The office was empty. No desk, no chairs, nothing. Hryn glanced to either side, made sure no one was watching, and entered the office, pulling the door shut behind him.

 

--------------

 

Gavin pried at the corner of stone, numbing his fingers. He had stumbled, quite literally and almost off the roof, upon a small hatch. The boy assumed it led into an upper attic, or something similar. And so he had been prying at it for the last twenty minutes, working his fingertips into the tiny cracks, and finally it was coming loose. Gavin gritted his teeth and let out a small grunt as the hatch popped up. He sat there for a moment, waiting for any movement below, and when none came, Gavin took a peek inside.

 

Darkness and the smell of mold met him. Gavin inched his head in farther, saw no movement, swung his shoulders and torso through the hole, flipped down to land softly on the floor. A cloud of dust drifted up, coating Gavin's legs in a soot the color of the outside sky. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, studied the room he was now in. It was, to all appearances, an attic as he had thought. There were shelves and boxes, there were shapeless lumps covered in sheets. There was a door. Gavin noted the positions of these things, then pulled the hatch shut, locking the room in darkness.

 

---------------

 

Hryn crouched where Loryn's desk had been, studied the marks on the floor where it had scuffed the stone as it was moved out. He sniffed the air, smelled a faint trace of something acrid... Hryn narrowed his eyes and stood. He walked to the walls and slipped his hands across them, felt for any imperfections... and he found one in the southwest corner of the room, just a cooler spot on the wall, really. One that sounded hollow when Hryn tapped on it.

 

----------------

 

Gavin pressed his ear to the rough wood of the door, listening for sounds of movement. He slowly let the door open, watched a sliver of light grow across the floor. No sounds met his ears as the door swung wide, and Gavin stepped out into the upper chambers of the Court.

 

__________

 

Hryn worked his hands around the cool spot, found the small notch of a pressure lock. He pressed it in, and a small section of wall slid out, revealing a wooden box not two hands across. Hryn reached out his hand, took the box and began to open it. There was a sound behind him as the door opened.

 

__________

 

Gavin wandered through the halls, heading steadily south, heading towards the stairs down.

 

------------------

 

Hryn turned his head casually as the door opened, a slow smile forming on his face. Two figures stood in the door, a man and a woman. The man was short, wiry... he had the look of a scrapper. The woman was tall and exquisite, dark hair braided thickly down her back. Both of them wore red, the woman in robes and the man in dyed leather. Hryn chuckled softly.

 

"I was wondering how long it would take you to come... well, let's get this thing over with." The two looked at Hryn consideringly, and moved farther into the room, closing the door behind them.

 

-------------------

 

As Gavin stepped off the flight of stairs, he saw his quarry's door... saw two people in red slip inside, closing the door behind them. Gavin crept closer.

 

-------------------

 

The man circled around Hryn, drawing a slim blade from the sheath at his back. Hryn stood still, still chuckling, and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

"You know, I realize that you're already dead, but don't you think that you're making a mistake here? Think about it... only two of you? What did Loghis think would happen?" The man stopped moving for a moment and cocked his head to the side. Hryn closed his eyes and continued. "You two are sacrificial lambs on the altar of his ambition. Maybe if you stop and go away, you'll get to enjoy whatever life is left in you."

 

There was a soft scuffling sound as the man with the blade began moving again. Hryn's arm darted out, his hand deftly closing around the man's throat... the Master's favorite technique, and one that had served Hryn well since he had learned it. Hryn whipped his head around to the man and opened his eyes.

 

"Did you not listen to anything I said?" Hryn pulled the man closer, his voice lowered into a snarl. "And you just blindly obey... you fool." Hryn threw the man across the room, watched with interest as his body hit the stone wall and rebounded, falling to the floor with a solid crunch. The woman watched her companion fall, and turned her head to Hryn.

 

She opened her mouth to speak, and Hryn cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Don't. I know the offers, I know the games, and I'm frankly sick of them. Take your friend's broken body back to the Council, let them stitch him back up, and then run as far from Cold Port as you can. I hear there are cities on the mainland where dead men can live again."

 

On the floor, the man's body began twitching, his bones popping back into place, and he raised his head to speak.

 

"My body is not so broken as you think, dog of Fexus." Hryn blinked at the man, honestly surprised for a moment, and then shrugged.

 

"Good. Now you can walk out on your own."

 

The man rose to his feet and advanced on Hryn. Hryn's mouth twitched.

 

"Or not."

 

------------------------

 

Gavin paused just outside the door. People were speaking inside, but Gavin couldn't make out the words. He took a moment to calm himself, slow down his breathing. He thought back on the last month of training, put his hand out to take the handle of the door. He opened the door just as a man in dyed red leather rushed Hryn.

 

Gavin's eyes went wide as Hryn slipped to the side of the man's knife, catching his arm as it swung, twisted the wrist, snapping it.

 

-----------------------

 

Hryn snapped the man's wrist back, a clean sever and twisted to catch the knife as it fell from his hand. His eyes fell on the open door, and Gavin's stunned face. Hryn's heart skipped a beat, and then he plunged the knife into the man's heart, twisted it, and drove him to the floor.

 

------------------------

 

Gavin stood silent, his breath catching in his throat. Hryn was crouched low over the dead man on the floor, and he raised his head to meet Gavin's gaze, opened his mouth, words coming out but not catching in Gavin's ears. He could hear his own heart beating in his chest, clamoring to be out.

 

-----------------------

 

"Move, boy! Get out of here!" Gavin stayed still, obviously frozen with... terror? Shock? Something.

 

Hryn let go of the knife, stood from the twitching body of the man. He rose just in time to watch as the woman twisted with a speed faster than any normal human, spun towards the boy. Hryn took a step forward, his jaw dropping.

 

-----------------------

 

Gavin saw Hryn stand, saw the woman spin towards him.

 

He registered that he should do something, told his body to run. His legs betrayed him, wooden and stiff, locked into their position.

 

The woman's hand shot upwards into Gavin's gut, nails like steel tearing through the soft flesh of his belly.

 

He felt her hand as it moved upwards into his chest cavity, deftly found his heart, and squeezed.

 

----------------------

 

Hryn fell to his knees.

[Finnius]

Time froze. Hryn's sight bled... his heartbeat rose, his breathing came ragged and shallow. Gavin would not... could not... survive. Hryn pushed himself to his feet and stalked forward slowly. The woman began removing her forearm from Gavin's chest cavity just as he reached her. She turned to face him and he was there... not an inch in front of her face. The woman startled, jumping back a bit. Gavin slumped to the floor, red spilling down his knees and pooling on the floor.

 

Hryn snapped his arm forward, backhanded the woman across the face, time slowed again. Hryn moved in a dream, slipped around her side as she tried to swipe at him with her sharp, treacherous nails. He planted a knee in the small of her back, heard the bones pop and grate, grabbed her arms at the shoulders and pushed his leg outwards. He felt the tell-tale pop as her arms disjointed. Gavin's body shook and spasmed as the life flowed out of him.

 

Hryn let go of the woman's right arm, spun her around to face him, snarled at her.

 

"I gave you a chance... I tried to let you go..."

 

Hryn slung her to the floor, in front of Gavin's twitching body.

 

"Fix him."

 

The woman's eyes widened, her mouth worked open and closed, her bones began to work themselves back into their sockets. Hryn stood over her, watching, his eyes narrow and dangerous.

 

"You know what to do, woman... do it." Hryn's voice rose in volume, until he finally roared at the woman. "Fix him!"

 

She crawled to Gavin's corpse, gingerly took its still twitching head in her hands. His eyes had rolled back in his head, had almost popped out of their sockets. The woman dragged a steely nail across her own wrist, letting blood flow down into Gavin's gasping mouth. Hryn stood still, his face darkening. Gavin's body gave one last twitch, one last gasp... and then died. A tear rolled down Hryn's cheek, but otherwise he remained still.

 

---------------------

 

Hryn returned to the Lonely Sailor later that night, a large sack slung over each shoulder. He nodded briefly to Mistress Ellon, ascended the stairs, and locked himself in his room. He opened the sacks, placing one gingerly on his bed and pulling back the cloth to reveal Gavin's pale corpse. The other, he upended and dumped out on his floor. The woman in red scowled at him and rubbed her backside.

 

"I told you already, it takes time for the soul to cross back over into its vessel! Now let me go, you oaf of a man..." Hryn knelt down and stared her in the eye.

 

"Understand something... there is a reason I never asked for your name. You see, there is exactly no chance of your leaving this room alive... you can, however, leave it in your present state, which is dead. But you will leave it when I tell you to, and not a moment sooner." The woman spat her words back at him.

 

"What does that have to do with my name?" Hryn's mouth drew itself up into a crude smile.

 

"Nothing. Everything. Your name is Loryn now... yes, I think that suits you quite nicely... another woman that I had the over-riding urge to kill, but prevented myself from killing. Tell me, Loryn, what colors do you like... so that I can get you some decent clothing." The woman's eyes widened again, in outrage this time.

 

"You... you... you will not treat me like some common slave! My name is Dessina ka'Marc-" Hryn cut her off with a quick slap across the face, and grabbed her jaws in one of his hands.

 

"Your name is Loryn, and that is final. You had the chance to walk away from me, live your life peacefully, and you rejected that." He leaned in closer, held the woman's gaze. "Consider yourself lucky that Gavin there will need someone to help him understand his new existence. If he didn't, you would be lying on a bare stone floor with a knife in your heart like your friend. I am not entirely without compassion, but if you continue to act like this, I will kill you and find him another tutor. Now tell me what colors you want to wear, and I will see about getting them for you."

 

The woman closed her eyes and let out a small whimper. She smelled like defeat to Hryn. He let her jaws free and lowered himself to sit by Gavin's side. Hryn placed a hand on the boy's head and drew in a slow breath. Gavin's flesh was cool... there was a barely perceptable rising and falling in his chest as his lungs processed oxygen, trying to return the spark of life to his dead body. Hryn's eyes squeezed shut for the barest of moments.

 

------------------------

 

Gavin's eyes snapped open, then closed quickly as they were met with a blinding light. He winced and groaned, a sound like a bellows being worked. The woman in red... Loryn... darted to his side under the watchful eyes of Hryn, dog of Fexus. She took his hand in hers, placed the other one on his forehead. She whispered softly to him, Hryn listening in to every word, coldly storing them away to write down and send to his Master when this was done. She shushed Gavin, made soothing sounds and waited while he shook.

 

"Shhhh... calm down, boy... tell me what you see..." She had almost motherly tone... a very stern, demanding, suffocating mother to be sure, but a mother none the less.

 

Gavin pressed the knuckles of his free hand into his still-shut eyes, digging them in, twisting.

 

"I... I see... I see a city... covered in water and fire... fire from the sky." Hryn's face darkened as he listened. "There's a tower... and a man in robes... he holds the fire in his hands, his eyes control the water..." Gavin made another wincing sound, scrunched his face up like he was going to cry. Loryn murmered softly to him again.

 

"Go on, Gavin... tell me more..."

 

"He... he's got... there's blood... oh, gods, so much blood... it's all over him, covering him... he..." Gavin sucked in air, his chest rasping hollowly. He cried out. "He sees me! Please... someone... please..." Gavin thrashed fitfully, the woman held him still with a slight pressure on his forehead. He calmed after a moment. "He's... he's coming towards me now... he looks... he..." Gavin ceased speaking, mumbling softly, and then his features relaxed as he lost consciousness. Loryn released his hand and turned to face Hryn.

 

"He's coming through it now... all dead souls pass through the domain of holy Althis. He holds them for a time, speaking to them and learning of their lives... if he is impressed, he will let the boy return to his body, so that Gavin might tell him better tales when next they meet." Hryn cocked his head to one side, staring at the woman.

 

"And what if he is not?" Loryn smiled harshly at Hryn, closing her eyes.

 

"Then Althis will take his payment on the boy. Sometimes he requires a portion of the soul in exchange for letting it return... sometimes he requires more..."

 

A low growl escaped Hryn's throat.

 

"And... how hard is it to impress this Althis?" Loryn shook her head.

 

"He is... cold, and dead... beyond emotion, and passionless. Althis hungers for hot life, remembers the days when he still lived..." Loryn shrugged, and opened her eyes to look at Hryn. "It depends on his mood." She smiled. "It is said that holy Althis can see the worth of a dead soul... I've heard rumors that he sometimes brings the living to himself prematurely, in order to read their futures, and sends them back with ancient knowledge... and sometimes a new purpose."

 

Hryn grinned back harshly. "Who says this?"

 

Loryn gave a low chuckle. "It is a well known rumor among the dead."

 

Hryn shook his head. "Then let the dead keep it."

 

---------------------------

 

Four hours later, Gavin once again opened his eyes... they were no more than cold black orbs. As Loryn sat by his side staring down into them, her mouth hanging open, and her face painted with shock, Gavin's lips spread into a thin, bloodless grin. He chuckled under his breath, and sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the side and glancing up at Hryn. Hryn crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.

 

"Welcome back, boy." Hryn's mouth cracked into a small smile. "I see that you've come back to me in record time... very good."

 

Gavin's black eyes closed, then opened slowly. "It's good to be back, Hryn..." He motioned his head to the woman, still staring forward mutely. "Who's she?"

 

"That would be the person responsible for your death, boy. Also the one responsible for bringing you back... and your new teacher until you get used to your new existence. Her name is Loryn." Hryn took a step closer and tapped Loryn on the shoulder. "Say something, woman... introduce yourself."

 

The woman's eyes fluttered between Hryn and Gavin for a moment, and she shook her head quickly, motioning towards the door. Hryn cocked an eyebrow.

 

"Gavin, do me a favor and stay here for a minute... I think our Loryn wants a talk with me." Gavin nodded his head, still grinning, and leaned back against the wall. Hryn walked over to the door, holding it open for Loryn, who darted out quickly, and then closing it behind himself. No sooner was the door shut than Loryn collapsed against the wall, sliding down it to sit on the floor.

 

"Now tell me, woman... what's the matter?"

 

"His eyes... didn't you see his eyes?" Hryn nodded briefly.

 

"Yes... they were black... what of it?"

 

"Hryn... you're the boogieman for the dead... have been for nearly two decades... tell me that you know at least some of our stories." Hryn shook his head.

 

"Actually, I don't know any of them. Fexus sends as he will, and his orders very rarely involve listening to the folk tales of the people you're about to kill."

 

Loryn pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

 

"Black eyes are the sign of Althis' favor... his chosen few. There are only a handful of us who bear that sign, besides those on the Council..." Hryn shrugged.

 

"And why is this a bad thing?"

 

Loryn shivered.

 

"Because of what those precious few are capable of... he is... he is holy now... I cannot control him, Hryn. Our law forbids it, even if I could..." She began trembling. Hryn knelt down in front of her, putting a hand on her knee.

 

"You are not subject to the law of the dead anymore... you are subject to my law... and you will teach him. As for the controlling..." Hryn grinned thinly. "Leave that to me."

Edited July 2, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

It was raining again, over Cold Port... it rained more these days than not. The people of the city sometimes grumbled about the cold, wet weather but for the most part they kept their heads down and their mouths shut. Hryn strode down the street into the Merchant's Quarter, and headed towards the shop of Nanten the Tailor, who was, among other things, an actual tailor. He was also one of Fexus' plants in Cold Port, and had been his highest ranking operative in the days before Hryn... now he ran a clothier's business and sent the occasional pigeon to Hammerfall to infom the Master of what little information he had gleened from the petty nobles and occasional Judges that gave him custom. Hryn liked the man well enough... he had no respect for Nanten, but he was pleasant and polite, and Hryn approved of both of those traits.

 

The shop was a small affair, but tastefully decorated and expensively stocked. Anyone with an eye for fine clothes could tell that Nanten was much more well-off than the size of his shop would suggest. Hryn opened the door, listening to the tiny bells placed above it alert Nanten to his possible customer. Nanten emerged from the back room, a stocky man in a white shirt and nicely sewn leather pants... he'd most likely made them himself. Stocky he may have been, but anyone who mistook Nanten's bulk for fat would be sorely surprised. He was solid all the way through, the result of working for Fexus for nearly fourty years. His hair was just starting to grey, and he had a pleasant face, with a wide, inviting grin... which he dropped as soon as he recognized Hryn.

 

Nanten gave a low nod, lowering his head almost to his chest. "Good morning, Fixer Hryn. I assume you come on business?" Hryn nodded once, briefly. "Then if you would be so kind as to latch the door and turn my sign around?" Hryn flipped the wooden marker on the front of the door to it's closed position, and slipped the lock into its place, then moved farther into the room. Nanten motioned for Hryn to follow him, and headed into his back room.

 

---------------------

 

Gavin sat crosslegged on the floor, across from Loryn. The room was dark, the windows covered with the spare blankets from Gavin's bed, and the candles extinguished. Gavin's hands rested on his knees, and he stared forward into the blackness. He could only assume that Loryn did the same. She spoke to him softly.

 

"Calm your mind, remove yourself from the noise of the world, become a stone in the middle of a river. Focus your mind into a point of granite, cold and sharp." Gavin closed his eyes, let his mind wander... he'd been doing this all morning, with no more result than one splitting headache. Still... Hryn had asked him to give this woman his cooperation, and so he did... besides, she didn't look half bad. In Gavin's small experience, there were worse things than being alone in a dark room with a beautiful woman. He had to remind himself constantly that she was dead... then again, so was he...

 

"Now extend your senses, widen the field of your vision... see me." Gavin's breathing came slow and shallow... Loryn had said that he wouldn't need to breathe once he adapted to being dead... that his body would absorb the oxygen directly through his skin. She said this... Gavin had yet to see any results. She had said that his body would no longer require food... or at least not near as often. She had claimed that he would only need to eat once a day to stay at full strength, and that he would be able to go a week without food or water and still be able to act as a normal human. She had claimed that even should he stop eating all together, he would only enter a deep sleep from which he would eventually awaken.

 

Gavin tried to reach out with his mind, willed his eyes to see... blackness met him. His stomach growled, and his knees ached from sitting in this position for hours on end. He ground his teeth together and squinted.

 

"Center yourself, Gavin... try again." Gavin once again took the deep calming breaths he had learned during Hryn's initial training. He released his grip on his knees and felt his heart slow. He forced his eyes to relax and widen. Loryn's voice came calm and melifluous again.

 

"Calm your mind..."

 

----------------------

 

Hryn sat at a small round table. The man had been brewing a pot of tea, and he poured Hryn a cup almost as soon as he sat down. It tasted faintly of mint and almonds, and had a sweetness to it that Hryn found relaxing. Nanten poured a cup for himself, took a small sip, and sat down across from Hryn.

 

"So what business are you on this time, Fixer Hryn? Assassination or intelligence?" Nanten cupped the tea in his hands, letting the warmth of the porcelain soak into them. Hryn closed his eyes and took a small breath, inhaling the aroma.

 

"Neither... Fexus has decided to consolidate his control of the Courts... I was supposed to gain a foothold for him within the political structure of this city via a woman by the name of Loryn Halgus... who disappeared from her office a few days ago. To make matters worse, he'd also sent orders to begin the training of a young man named Gavin, who is... less than alive at the moment." Nanten nodded, thinking for a moment, then chuckled softly.

 

"Sounds like quite the pickle... frankly... I'm glad I'm not in your shoes right now, Fixer... how can I help?" Hryn sipped at his tea, and removed a small wooden box from his pocket.

 

"I need you to find out what happened to Madame Halgus. This might help... I found it in her office shortly after her disappearance." Hryn thumbed the box open, revealing its contents: a vial of bright green liquid, a small blue stone, and a brittle-looking black cube. Nanten pulled the box closer and studied the contents for a moment, picking up the vial and swirling it softly.

 

"Well... I'm not sure about the other two, but what you have here is magebane. It can boost your mental abilities tenfold for a while... problem is, you always come down, and afterwards it extracts a heavy price... usually greater than what it gives to begin with. Highly addictive, and highly sought after by many of the Court officials. Your Miss Halgus was most likely an addict... or a trafficer." He shrugged, replacing the vial. "Nasty stuff it is, but a vial this size would be worth a good sized house in most cities."

 

Hryn leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, and cocked his head to one side. "And how would you know so much about it, tailor?"

 

"Because most of my custom reeks of it. You'd probably be surprised at how wide-spread this stuff is in the higher ranks of the..." Hryn stared back at Nanten blankly. "Then again... maybe you wouldn't." Nanten cleared his throat and lowered his head a small bit. "Yes, well... I'll look into it, Fixer. Is there anything else?"

 

Hryn closed his eyes, a small grin spreading on his face, and took another sip of the tea. "For the moment, no. I'll be in touch later." Hryn finished the last of his tea and rose from the chair. Nanten lifted his head to look at him and then stared back down at his tea.

 

-------------------------

 

The darkness was suffocating... Gavin sat with his hands on his knees trying to compose himself again... and then it happened. He saw... not with his eyes, but with his very soul, Gavin saw the room. He could make out the shape of the bed, the cabinets and the blanket stretched across his window. He turned his head back down, and saw Loryn... really saw her for the first time.

 

She was a black shape, with a small core of light... a golden pulse in the center of her chest. It was the most beautiful thing that Gavin had ever seen... he reached out with his mind, slowly... probing the edges of that light. It wavered and pulsated at his caress, and moved towards him. Gavin touched the core, lightly... just a brush. Loryn screamed in pain, and the blackness of her form slumped to the floor.

 

Gavin leapt to his feet, halfway toppling over himself... he'd been sitting cross-legged for hours, and his legs had fallen asleep. He ripped the blanket from the window, permitting harsh light to spill into the room, his black eyes squinting shut for a moment. Gavin turned back to Loryn, lying half on her side, her chest rising and falling in a shallow motion... unconscious.

 

Gavin knelt down next to her, flipping her on her back, and startled as he saw what he had done...

 

----------------------------

 

Hryn walked slowly through the rain, his hands in his pockets and his head watching his feet. The soles of his boots made a light click-clicking on the stones of the street. He let his mind run over the last few days, let himself watch Gavin lie on the floor, the life oozing out of him. More clicking, down a side street. An alleyway, homeless people huddled under whatever rags and refuse they could scrape together, desperately trying to keep themselves dry and warm. Hryn ignored them and continued down the alley.

 

Click-click, another turn onto a wide street, lined with shops and dotted with the occasional inn. The smells of food perfumed the street, giving a contrast to the squallid people just down the alley. More people flowed by Hryn, there were always more people in this city... Cold Port was very much overpopulated. Hryn clicked down the cobblestone walkways, towards the Lonely Sailor. The rain coated him, soaked him to the bone...

 

Gavin was dead... dead, and apparently some kind of highly respected dead at that. Hryn turned down a street, not a block from the Lonely Sailor, and headed towards the Court at Cold Port. He needed to know more about this Althis.

 

------------------------------

 

Loryn's eyes fluttered and opened, slowly. Gavin had moved her to the bed, had covered her up. He was sitting by her side, staring down at her with those unreadable black eyes. Her face hurt... her whole being hurt... what had the boy done to her? She had been sitting with him on the floor... trying to teach him to see without light... a simple trick, really... just a matter of letting your eyes drink in whatever heat was present in the room, and transmute that heat into light... but then his eyes had shone... a cold white light, like a dying star.

 

Loryn shivered and sat up. Gavin lowered his head and turned halfway around.

 

"I'm sorry... sorry I hurt you, Loryn..." Loryn fell back against the bed, stared up at the ceiling. She had no idea what the boy had done... she'd never seen anything close, not even from the Council. It scared her... Althis' favor always took a different form, always translated to a different aspect of his divine being in his chosen vessel... but the Council had documented every instance, every occurence, and nothing fit. There were differences, yes... always differences...

 

"Loryn? Are you ok? Can you hear me?"

 

Her eyes opened and closed, her mind raced. The boy had... looked at her? Had he touched her? She couldn't remember... couldn't remember... He'd been sitting still one moment, a small amount of heat running through his body, residual heat from the friction of his blood flowing... nothing more... and then he'd...

 

"Loryn?" Gavin looked at her with concern in his face, began to stand.

 

And then he'd glowed like the sun... he had put off enough power to raze the Lonely Sailor to the ground... and he'd done something to her, something with all that power. Loryn looked over at the boy, standing up with worry streaking his smooth cheeks. He was talking to her. She sat up again, rubbed her forehead.

 

"Yes... yes, I can hear you... Gavin, I need you to tell me what you did... tell me exactly." She motioned to the bed, for him to sit down. He complied and began speaking, twisting his shirt in knots with his hands.

 

"I don't know... I was trying to calm myself back down, trying to see like you had wanted me to... and then I did see, I saw everything. And I looked at you... and there was this... this point of gold, this core of light. I wanted to touch that core, wanted to drink that light... and I just stretched out with my... mind? I just stretched out and touched it... and then you screamed..."

 

Loryn's hands continued running down her face, stopping on her left cheek... her fingers traced the shallow indentions, the scars... five of them, and a larger one in the center... She looked back to Gavin, speaking in a near-whisper.

 

"What did you do to me?" Gavin lowered his gaze again, as if looking at her hurt him. He walked over to his shelves, retrieving a hand mirror and bringing it back over. Loryn grabbed the mirror out of his hands almost as soon as he presented it, and pointed it to her face. She sat still for a moment, her jaw hanging open like a fish. She traced the marks on her face absently, almost reflexively.

 

A perfectly formed hand had burned itself into the flesh of her cheek. Gavin kept his head lowered. Loryn let him.

[Finnius]

First were Mephis and Althis, the twins. Everything was desert, blasted and barren. The sun hung in the sky, a merciless and unforgiving god. Nothing grew, nor did any creature walk or crawl. Into this were the Divine Twins born. Mephis; born of sand and heat, with eyes like fire and skin like coal. Althis; born of the dry desert wind, with flowing white hair and skin like the midnight sky. Where Mephis and Althis met; there they raised a monument. The Westering Mountains they raised, and blocked off the desert. Althis brought the clouds and rain, and there he formed the Frozen Sea.

 

In bringing water to this barren, lifeless land, Althis unwittingly set into motion a chain of events which would end in his demise. Meanwhile, Mephis had retreated under his desert, searching for the fire that he felt swelling beneath the ground...

 

He took with him three raw pieces of iron, and in the Desert's Heart, he forged his tools. A hammer he made; and called it Natayu: Land's Beginning. With this hammer, he split the Westering Mountains, allowing the sea to flow into the desert. Life sprang forth, where once was none. Grass and insects, birds, reptiles, then mammals, and the upright beasts. Mephis took notice.

 

Next he forged a great scythe, called Balphinus: Truth of Fate. With it, he taught the Upright Beasts how to pull wheat from the soil. Some of the Beasts, however, rejected Mephis' teachings. They prefered to live as base animals, hunting with their teeth, burrowing with their claws. Three times, Mephis came to them, offered them knowledge, and was asked to leave. Three times he left in peace.

 

One time, Althis visited them...

 

A soft scraping behind Hryn alerted him to the prescence of the librarian. He marked the page he had been reading, flipped the book shut, and turned to face the graying woman that oversaw the records kept in the Court at Cold Port. She had a small leather-bound book in her hands, held closed with a cord that wrapped loosely around it. She gave Hryn a small nod and an even smaller smile.

 

"I trust that you are finding everything well, master... what did you say your name was?" Hryn stood, picking up the tome and giving the woman a bow fit for a High Judge.

 

"Hryn, madame... and you need not call me master." Hryn gave a small chuckle, self-deprecating and conspiratorial, and extended the tome he'd been reading to the woman. "Actually, I was wondering about a few things... for instance, who wrote this?" The librarian took the tome, flipping it open to the first pages and unwrapping the leather-bound book in one smooth motion. She ran her finger down a page, looking for the title, and stopped as she found it.

 

"Ah... it was written by one, ah, Saevus Sospita... I believe we have a few of his other works, if you'd like to take a look at them." Hryn nodded once.

 

"It would be my pleasure, honored madame."

 

------------------------

 

There was a tense silence as Loryn stared at her face in the mirror. Gavin wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that it had been an accident, that he would never do it again... but the words seemed small and petty, and they would not come. Loryn lowered the mirror to the bed and closed her eyes.

 

Gavin opened his mouth to speak, as Loryn's shoulders spasmed into the beginnings of a sob. He closed his mouth and sat on the bed next to her, reaching out to put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Loryn cringed away from Gavin's touch, backed into the corner where the bed met the wall and looked at Gavin like a demon. A few drops ran down her face, meeting in a point on her chin and dripping onto the soft green of her shirt.

 

"I'm... Loryn... I'm sorry..." Loryn cupped her face in her hands and continued sobbing. Gavin winced as he heard the soft choking sounds from the woman, saw the tears roll down her face. He reached out again to touch her shoulder, and this time she did not cringe away. She threw herself forward, into Gavin's arms, and let him hold her while she cried. After a few minutes, she looked up at Gavin, and pulled away from him, wiping at her face with her sleeve.

 

She sniffed a bit and smoothed her shirt down. "I... should apologize..." She dabbed at her face again. "I don't normally break down like that... I try to be strong... I'm sorry." Gavin shook his head slowly.

 

"No... don't be sorry, Loryn. I can imagine how hard this must be for you... I mean, when Hryn took me, it was the same... he doesn't give you any choices. Well, at least not good ones. And then I... I hurt you. I promise, I didn't mean to... and I'll try not to do it again." Loryn nodded and gave a small smile, then leaned in to hug Gavin once, briefly but tightly.

 

"Thank you. You're a good person, Gavin... you deserve much better than Hryn." Loryn laughed, a small harsh chuckle. "But you have as little choice as I do. Do you ever think about just running away?"

 

"I did at first... I tried to run, a few times, but Hryn always found me. Hryn can find anything... anyone." Gavin shook his head. "I wouldn't try to run, Loryn... trust me, the sooner you accept this, the easier it will be. He's actually not as bad as he seems, most times... I think." Loryn laughed again. Gavin thought it sounded like bells tinkling.

 

"So you can't tell either? Glad to know it's not just me." Gavin shrugged and smiled. "Well... c'mon, then, let's get back to work." Loryn slipped off the bed, and sat on the floor, crossing her legs. "If you would be so kind as to block out the window?"

 

----------------------------

 

Hryn poured over text, digested it and moved on. He'd found numerous references to this Althis as a wanderer and scholar, as an architect and warrior. If all the accounts were to be believed, Althis would have been very busy indeed. He'd supposedly fought numerous wars, led a tribe of these "Upright Beasts" to become something called the "Learning People," and built an entire city single-handedly. From the description given, that city sounded disturbingly like Hammerfall.

 

Which was another odd coincidence. Hammerfall was, indeed, positioned in a gap in the Westering Mountains shaped roughly like the head of a hammer. Hryn had always thought it was a coincidence... the head of a hammer, after all, was round. A perfectly round depression in a mountain range could be caused by any number of things; erosion over time, or a sudden shifting of the ground. Hryn stretched and closed the book he had been reading. He looked over his shoulder and motioned for the librarian. The old woman walked over, gave Hryn a small bow.

 

"How might I help you, ser?" Hryn favored her with a smile, and motioned to the book on the table.

 

"I was wondering if it might be possible to comission a copy of this... several of these, actually. They're quite interesting, but I'm not sure how long I'm going to stay in Cold Port. Business matters, you know." The woman bobbed her head again.

 

"Of course, master Hryn. If you could just tell me which ones, I'll send for a scrivener right away." Hryn chuckled and stood from the table.

 

"Thank you, honored madame."

 

------------------------------

 

They sat in darkness, Gavin facing Loryn. He stretched out with his mind again, careful not to stretch too far... and eventually, he saw the outline of Loryn, sitting cross-legged in front of him. She was defined in reds and oranges, with a lighter blue core. The rest of the room was blurred and distorted, like a reflection in a warped piece of metal... but Loryn, he could make out distinctly. Gavin's mouth turned up at the corners, and he breathed a low chuckle.

 

"I think I've got it this time... you look all orange..." Loryn's head nodded and Gavin could just make out a shifting of the colors that he thought was a smile.

 

"Yes... yes, that's how it should look. Very good, Gavin. Most people take days to learn trick, even though it's one of the most basic ones... something about the eyes needing to adjust that tends to throw them off." She stood up and walked to the window, tearing the blanket off in one smooth motion. Gavin's sight flared for a moment, the red blurring his field of vision, and then it snapped back to normal, with a slightly jarring sensation.

 

Loryn stood looking down at the boy, giggled as he shielded his eyes.

 

"I think that'll be enough for today, though... keep practicing with the darksight, get comfortable with seeing in that manner. Tomorrow we'll start you on the physical stuff... I warn you now, it can be painful." Gavin forced his eyes to open the rest of the way and nodded, giving a slight grin.

 

"Hryn has instilled a great tolerance for pain in me. I should be fine... it's just the killing I'm bad at." Loryn closed her eyes and crossed her arms across her stomach.

 

"Is that why you froze when... you saw... us fighting him?" Gavin shook his head slowly.

 

"I don't know... I think... I think that I heard someone calling my name... and I just couldn't move. I knew that I needed to, I kept screaming in my head to just move... but I couldn't." Loryn nodded sagely and opened her eyes.

 

"Well... either way, you keep practicing with that, and we'll work some more tomorrow." She gave Gavin a nod of her head, and slipped outside his door, closing it softly.

 

---------------------------------

 

Hryn arrived at the Lonely Sailor late that night with a thick book under one arm, a copy of one of Sospita's lesser known works that the library had just happened to have a spare copy of. Hryn had persuaded them to keep the copy and sell him the original for a pretty penny. It was a treatise on trade agreements between the major cities of the Mephitic Island, specifically a now-dead city called Desert's Heart and Hammerfall. Incredibly dry, but the most useful piece of intelligence Hryn had gathered so far.

 

According to this book, several large merchant families had invested in a road to connect the two cities, bringing tools and weapons from Desert's Heart into Hammerfall, and recieving large sums of food in return. Shortly after the road was completed, the lines of communication were dropped and the families in Desert's Heart had paid a visit to Hammerfall. Shortly after their visit, the governor of Hammerfall had declared the desert off limits to his people, and shut down the trade, even to the point of razing the road for several hundred miles inland. The exact circumstances would be most interesting, and Hryn was fairly sure that he could cross-reference the dates in this book with the records in Fexus' own libraries back at Hammer Keep.

 

Hryn pushed his way through the front door, nodding politely to Mistress Ellon, and headed directly for the stairs. He passed Gavin's room and briefly considered knocking, before remembering what time it was... the boy would likely be asleep by now. Hryn slid the book a little farther under his arm and headed over to his room, opening the door slowly. It was dark inside, the candle that he kept burning a small stump. If Hryn weren't so adamant about it, Mistress Ellon would keep his room bright as noon at all times of the day. There was something wrong, Hryn felt it as soon as the door cracked open.

 

There was a soft thumping sound, and a clearing throat. Hryn stood in his doorway, and pushed the door the rest of the way open. A man sat on his bed, hands on his knees and legs bowed out in front of him. He was obscured in darkness, and Hryn could barely make out one part of him from the other. The man looked over at Hryn and motioned for him to come inside. Hryn's eyes narrowed, and he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. Hryn didn't even give him a chance to open his mouth.

 

"Tell me who you are, why you're here, and why I should let you live. You have until I count thirty." The man leaned back and chuckled slightly, appraising Hryn.

 

"My name is Lonane Hloran, Mallon. I'm here to pay a visit to my little brother, and I would very much appreciate it if he let me live long enough to at least give him a hug." Hryn's eyes widened for a moment, and he stepped quickly over to the single lit candle, picking it up and spreading its light to the others in the room. Hryn stared at the stranger sitting on his bed. He resembled Hryn superficially... except that his hair was greying where Hryn's was still black as coal, and his face was more lined by half than Hryn's.

 

"Lonane... never heard the name. And you should know that Mallon's been dead for the last twenty years. I watched him die with my own eyes... I'm sorry."

 

The man sitting on Hryn's bed studied him for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face. He closed his eyes and re-opened them, then cracked a harsh, wobbling grin.

 

"Mallon... don't you remember me? Your own brother..." He stood up, slightly taller than Hryn, put his hands on Hryn's shoulders. "I've been looking for you for... gods, I've been looking for almost thirty years... Sara's married and had three children, ma and da've both passed on... don't you remember?" Hryn stared at the man coldly, watched the tears begin to well up in his eyes.

 

"Lonane... whoever you are. My name is Hryn. Mallon Hloran died trying to assassinate the rightful Lord of Hammerfall two decades ago. He was a friend of mine before that, but when he tried to kill my Master, I cracked his neck with my own hands. I'm sorry for your loss... but I am not your brother. I think you should leave now." Hryn nodded to the door, waited for the man to wipe the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

The man looked at Hryn for a moment, wobbled on the verge of touching him again... and then he turned and walked out of the room, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Hryn locked the door behind him, extinguished all but one of the candles, and went to bed.

Edited July 14, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

Blackness swirled around Gavin, howling winds cut at his face. He stood on the edge of a cliff, and waited as the figure in the blood-red robes came closer... waited with his hands at his sides and his eyes narrowed. His mind darted back to follow the chain of events that had led him here... he glanced back at the churning waters which crashed over monolithic black stones from the falls to his right. By the time he turned back the figure was nearly on top of him. He could see the smoldering fires in its eyes, the thin trail of smoke that escaped its mouth. Death had come for him at last...

 

The figure sprang towards Gavin, and the boy ducked its blow, thrusting his hands into its guts, turning its momentum against it. He catapulted the thing over the cliff, nearly losing his balance in the process. A sharp grating sound, then a peal of laughter that echoed like thunder split Gavin's ears. Gavin looked over the cliff... the thing had caught itself. Long claw marks in the smooth granite led down to the thing's hanging form. It looked up at him, a thin smile spreading across its blackened lips.

 

Gavin sat up in bed, a cold sweat beading on his skin despite the chill in the air. The darkness seemed to taunt him... he could still hear the sounds of laughter echoing in his mind as he laid back onto his sheets, damp with the moisture slicking his skin.

 

------------------------

 

"He's slipping, Hryn... I don't know how much longer I can keep him in sway." Loryn leaned against the wall of Hryn's room, staring at the single candle that shed a dim light over the sparse quarters. She tapped her temple with two fingers, shaking her head. "Your Gavin has a strong spirit, even for one of Althis' chosen. And what will you do when he discovers how we're using him? He scares me, Hryn..."

 

Hryn sat on his bed, his hands resting lightly on his knees and considered Loryn. "If and when you loose control of him, I'll deal with the consequences. Until then, you'll keep his training up. I will have no dissension from you. Frightened rabbits make poor servants." Hryn stood and opened his door. "You're already late for his morning lesson. Hop, rabbit!"

 

Loryn scowled at Hryn, but left his room and knocked on Gavin's door. Hryn watched only long enough to see her enter, then shut his door and went back to his reading. Saevus Sospita had turned out to be an invaluable source of information in the last few days... the old scrivener had locked secrets within his treatises, buried the locations of ancient artifacts in simple trade papers. He'd either been a genius or a paranoid delusional... probably both.

 

Hryn had poured over his works and in them found the truth about Althis. Or at least as close to the truth as he was likely to find without actually meeting the man. Althis had been a powerful leader in centuries gone, and was gifted with a singular tie to the land... a geomancer. He shared this tie with his twin brother Mephis, and together they conquered nearly the entire Mephitic Island... the name of which was no longer any source of confusion for Hryn. Mephis had been peaceful, a creator. He was a proponent of learning, and higher arts. He'd spread the knowledge of agriculture, blacksmithing, and astrology.

 

Althis, on the other hand, was more war-like. He'd ravaged entire cities single-handedly, and had formed a military institution which, if Hryn drew his lines correctly, survived in Hammerfall to this day. How Althis came to be associated with the Dead Council was still beyond Hryn, but he was sure the answers were buried somewhere in Sospita's rambling works. If only the man weren't so gods-blindingly dry... even his prose sounded like shipping logs. Hryn lit a few more candles and poured over the next tome.

 

------------------------------

 

Loryn sat across from Gavin in the dark. She saw his form waver slightly from side to side, like a cobra about to strike... the boy was far to strong for his own good. Luckily, he was completely unaware of that fact. In the last few days, he'd mastered everything Loryn had to teach... he could stitch his bones together in a matter of seconds, close his wounds almost as soon as they were made. He could skim the surface thoughts of any living man, see perfectly with no light. Only one thing had she kept from him... the power to influence the thoughts of others. It was all Loryn could do to keep the boy in check.

 

And so she sat in the dark, facing Gavin, and trying to think of something to teach him... they'd been silent for nearly an hour. He must be getting wary by now... must be wondering why Loryn hadn't instructed him. Loryn shivered on the inside, nearly leapt to her feet to flee the room. There was a story among the dead... rumors of things the Chosen could do. Loryn composed herself and cleared her throat.

 

"Today, Gavin... today we'll start on pyrokinesis. Fetch a candle."

 

-------------------------------

 

And in such times, Natali Grass-stalker tore the heart from Althis' rotting corpse. He was of the Wild Peoples, and his hunger ran deep. The heart was fresh and hot, as if it had been alive though Althis was dead. Natali held it in his hands, stared at it for a span of time, and then brang it up to his mouth and devoured it. He felt a change in himself. Forever after, he subsisted on the life and blood of his clanmates.

 

Hryn paused, and underlined a passage. This Natali Grass-stalker had not killed Althis, and Sospita had not seen fit to reveal who had... riddles within riddles. Hryn could almost respect the man. If Sospita hadn't died nearly three hundred years ago, he'd make a fine ally for the Master... they both shared a fondness for hiding their true intent under layers of vague wording and contradiction deeper than the Frozen Sea. Hryn marked his place and stretched, popping his shoulders and rubbing at his eyes.

 

Pouring over the collected works of Saevus Sospita was draining stuff. Hryn made up his mind to take a walk, clear his head... maybe he'd pay a visit to Nanten the Tailor. The old man was decent enough company, and he may have actually dug up something useful. Hryn slipped out of the Lonely Sailor, and into a thick fog that had sprung up around Cold Port. People darted about, wrapped in layers of wool and silk.

 

Hryn strode down the street, and headed towards the Merchants' Quarter. The fog clung to everything, making wisps as people cut through it and rolling off of rooftops to spread across the ground. It looked like a living thing. Hryn grinned slightly and stepped up his pace.

 

----------------------------------

 

Gavin stared at the candle, focused on the wick... it called to him, he could feel its willingness to burn. He stretched out his mind, brushed the tip of the taper. Nothing happened. He reached out again, grasping it harder... still nothing happened. Gavin gritted his teeth and let a low growl escape his throat... he could do this, he knew he could. He hadn't failed a lesson yet, and wasn't about to start now.

 

He pushed his mind outwards, became a raging storm of heat, blistering his brain... the candle stood still, defiant and motionless. Gavin cursed and whipped out his hand, knocking the candle over. Loryn gave a low laugh, musical and entrancing.

 

"Is it really that hard, Gavin? I would imagine that for my best student such a simple matter would take no more than a few minutes... do you need a break?" Gavin shook his head slowly and returned the candle to its upright position.

 

"No... no, just I'm just a little frustrated... excuse me." He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, and returned to his exercise.

 

He would get that candle to burn if it was the last thing he ever did.

 

------------------------------------

 

Nanten greeted Hryn warmly at the door, turning his sign around and ushering him inside. The man had been waiting in the fog, sitting by his own door. He'd been expecting Hryn, so he said. Hryn grinned at him and locked the door behind him. Nanten favored Hryn with a broad smile across his broad face.

 

"So did Lonane find you well, Fixer Hryn?" Hryn turned to Nanten, narrowing his eyes.

 

"You were the one that told him where to find me?" The tailor shrugged, spreading his hands.

 

"Who am I to keep a man from his little brother, when he's spent half his life searching for him? I merely directed Lonane to Cold Port. Anything else he found out for himself." Hryn scowled and took a step forward, looking up into Nanten's eyes.

 

"You know as well as I do that Mallon's dead, tailor." Hryn hissed his words, low and scratchy. "Why keep his brother on this fool's quest?"

 

Nanten met Hryn's gaze unflinchingly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Is he, Fixer? Is he really? Or do you just not want to admit that-"

 

Hryn slapped the man across the jaw, leaving a wide red mark on his cheek. "I suggest you keep your tone a bit less impertinent, tailor. Mallon is dead. End of story. Now have you found any news on Loryn Halgus, or do I leave you to your pathetic little clothier?" Nanten rubbed at the side of his face, turning his head slowly to Hryn. The man darted a hand out, into Hryn's gut, and Hryn doubled over breathlessly.

 

"Don't forget, Fixer..." Nanten spat on the ground in front of Hryn. "I worked for Fexus far longer than you, and when he needs real, solid work done, he still comes to me as often as not. Now get out of my shop, and don't come back until you start acting like an adult." Nanten kicked Hryn in the ribs for good measure, lifting him halfway off the ground, and unlocked his door, rolling him out onto the street with his foot.

 

Hryn lay there for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. His ribs ached... nothing broken, most likely bruised. He'd lashed out at Nanten without thinking... he'd have to apologize to the man later, but for now Hryn pushed himself to his feet and walked down the street holding his sides. The people that passed him gave him wide berth, noting the red heat that colored his face.

Edited July 14, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

Hryn slipped through the streets of Cold Port, his hands rubbing together every so often for warmth. The weather had taken a sudden cold snap within the last few days, and his breath misted in the dim light of morning. He was headed to the Lonely Sailor, after having wandered the streets of the city all night. His mind kept racing back to the shop of Nanten the Tailor, and the sudden turning of the conversation that led to him breathless on the street. Nanten still thought he was Mallon... many people thought that, Hryn knew... he could almost understand it, but he knew the truth. Mallon was dead, dead by Hryn's hand. Dead by Fexus hand.

 

A soft orange glow lit the end of the street... at first, Hryn mistook it for the sun. He quickly realized that the sun wouldn't be putting off a large plume of smoke and stepped up his pace, pushing his way through the throngs of people that had sprang up as he neared the Lonely Sailor. They seemed tired and weary, as if they'd just gotten out of bed. They rubbed at their eyes and allowed Hryn to shoulder them aside.

 

Hryn turned the corner, stopping dead to see the Lonely Sailor engulfed in flames. Gavin stood outside, facing the crowd, formed in a rough semi-circle in front of him, wary and fearful. His black eyes swept the crowd and a small grin sat on his face. The flames backlit him, and defined the shaking form of Loryn at his side, her hand clutched roughly in his. Hryn pushed his way into the circle, coming to a sudden stop a few feet in front of his student.

 

Gavin snapped his head over to Hryn, and his grin widened. "I was wondering how long it would take you to show up..."

 

Hryn's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, boy... what happened here?"

 

Gavin's grin turned up at the corner. "I set it on fire. Loryn was trying to teach me something..." Gavin chuckled lightly. "She tried to teach me something that wasn't possible, Hryn... not right then, anyway. Do you know why?"

 

Hryn stood still, considering Gavin silently. Gavin shook his head and winked at Hryn. "She was trying to keep me occupied, Hryn. Why would she be doing that, I wonder? Hmmmm..." Gavin shook a finger at Hryn, reproachful and insolent. He dropped the grin, and his voice became serious. "Because you told her to... the two of you have been keeping my head spun ever since I came back, haven't you?"

 

Hryn nodded wordlessly.

 

"Well... the time for that is over." Gavin raised Loryn's hand slightly, giving her a tug forward. "You can thank her for this, Hryn. Her clumsy attempts at keeping me in the dark managed to jar my mind loose. And you know what, Hryn?" Gavin spat the name, made it sound like a curse... which it was, to Hryn's mind. "I remember everything now. I remember my meeting with Althis, remember what he told me." Gavin grinned. "I know everything about you now. And your master, for that matter. You're just a means to an end, Fixer Hryn." Gavin shrugged, closing his eyes briefly. "So am I, for that matter... but at least I know it. We'll meet again, Fixer... shortly."

 

And with that, Gavin blurred, his black eyes boring holes into Hryn's soul, and then he was gone. Where once he'd stood were two scorched footprints, a slight trail of steam floating upwards from them. Hryn stood there for a moment, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he turned to walk off into the streets once more. He'd have to apologize to Nanten ahead of schedule.

 

-----------------------

 

Fexus stood on the edge of the cliff above Hammer Keep. It was the Keep's top balcony, actually, from where you could watch the falls that split the city in half thunder down onto monolithic black stones, crashing with all the fury of the gods. Fexus enjoyed the view. It reminded him that nothing in this world was permanent... not even the very shape of the world was set in stone. Fexus allowed himself a wry grin at that thought... the world was not set in stone, only made of it.

 

A scuffling sound behind him presaged two of his loyal Fixers dragging the half-dead creature that he'd found in the kitchens towards him. Fexus waited for them, watched the falls. Nothing was permenant... nothing would last forever. Not Hammerfall, not Cold Port, not even himself... so little time. Fexus cleared his face and turned towards the two. Machen and Kira, if he remembered correctly. It didn't matter, either way. The creature's head hung low, its knees dragged the cold granite. Fexus scowled at the thing.

 

"Raise your head, and look me in the eye." The thing lifted its head a bare inch, and then it dropped again. Fexus knew he should've fed it... but what use, when it couldn't die anyway? Fexus sighed and addressed his Fixers. "Lift its head."

 

The two did, putting a hand on either side of its skull, lifting and directing it at Fexus. Its eyes were wide and fearful... figured. Fexus strode forward, put one finger on the thing's forehead. He pushed back slightly, forcing it to look straight into his eyes. He could still see the discoloration of flesh where he'd had to splice someone else's jaw into the thing's head. Grisly, but efficient. And Fexus was nothing if not efficient.

 

"Now... tell me, creature. What do you see?" Fexus fiddled with his talisman, flipped it over in his fingers. A dim light radiated from it, spreading up his arm, through his shoulders, down his other one. It spread into his finger and flowed across the creature's head. A point of smoke rose from where Fexus' finger touched the thing's flesh. It drew in a sharp hiss of breath.

 

"I... I... I will not tell you, bastard dog of Hammerfall!" Fexus' face darkened and he flipped the pendant again. The trail of smoke rose quicker, and a soft sizzling accompanied it. The thing grimaced and grit its teeth.

 

"Do you know what I'm doing to you, thing?" Fexus adopted a conversational tone, as he bent lower, filling the creature's visage with his eyes. He spoke softly, as a friend. "I'm channeling the lightning that I've stored from every halted storm to try and hit this city. I'm letting that power filter into you, slowly. I could burn you to cinders where you stand, before you could bat an eye... or I can keep this up, literaly for an eternity. A storm always comes, creature... and with it more than I'd need to deal with the likes of you. Now tell me what you see."

 

The creature's stolen lip quivered... it was obviously in pain. Fexus knew full and well how painful it was to absorb that much power. He fingered the pendant, and the light became a swirling, crackling mass. A pinpoint of light burned itself into his retina, based at the connection of his flesh to the dead man's.

 

"I see... I see..." The thing gasped, spasmed. And then stopped, curiously... it stopped, the light still burning into its skull, its flesh still melting. And it spoke clearly. "I see your doom, dog. Fexus, Lord of the Storms, he who holds lightning in his grasp... he shall fall. This city will be laid low... your time is nigh." Fexus scowled and placed his palm against the creature's forehead, power surging through his arms. The corpse blackened and melted, a pile of wet ashes drifting to the stone. The Fixers pulled back their hands waving them and blowing at them. Fexus hadn't intended to burn his servants... let it be a lesson to them.

 

"Clean him off... I want every ash saved and bottled. Have the alchemists look at it, and return it to my study afterwards." Fexus turned back towards the falls, watching the water crash over the gargantuan black stones. Nothing was permenant.

 

-------------------

 

Blackness surrounded Gavin. He'd remembered... everything at once, in the blink of an eye. The Courts, Althis had said... the Courts were the key to this world. With them, he and his brother Mephis had shaped the continents, had scooped out the seas and raised the mountains. Mephis had created them, or found them... Gavin was unsure which. Althis' wording was as vague as Hryn's. There was a Court at Hammerfall... it was called Natayu, Land's Beginning. Mephis had gifted that Court with the ability to store and create, to discharge and transmute. It held the power over all forms of energy. Fexus misguidedly believed that it could only control the lightning, and the storm.

 

A Court at Cold Port, also... Balphinus, the Truth of Fate. It held the power over life itself, bringing growth and death, creating souls from the energy stored within Natayu. The Dead Council believed that it could raise the dead. It could, at that, and so much more...

 

The third Court... Gavin had shuddered when he thought about the implications. Desert's Heart, the former capitol of the Twins' Empire. Machia, the Light in Darkness. Althis had been reluctant to tell Gavin what its purpose was... all he would say was that it held the balance between the other two, and governed their workings. It could blend the two, could bind souls into bricks... or weapons... or cities. Althis would say no more, only that Machia was by far the most dangerous of the three.

 

Gavin sat suspended halfway between life and death, swirling shadows tore at him; and he moved through the ether. Althis had told him of Fexus... told him what the Lord of Hammerfall planned. Gavin would see it stopped. If Fexus controlled all three of the Courts... he could govern reality itself. The Lord of Hammerfall was an ambitous man.

 

A pricking at the back of Gavin's skull alerted him to Natayu's access. Fexus was drawing the lightning once more, directing it with his infinite skill and finesse, directing it towards Cold Port... Gavin's mind leapt out, traced the workings back to their beginnings. Natayu screamed under the pressure of it's workings. It had been mighty once, and would be again, but for now the mind that accessed it had no idea of its true potential, and so it was strained to do a thing that should have been simple for it. To say the least, Natayu was frustrated.

 

Gavin grinned and slipped out of the ether, arriving in the streets of Hammerfall with a slight popping sound. He'd judged carefully, and come out in an alley out of the sight of the normal populace. Here he would wait for Hryn, would wait for his former master. He knew all about Hryn... and understood the man. Fexus would pay for what he'd done.

 

----------------------

 

The shop of Nanten the Tailor was in disarray, clothing scattered across the floor and the windows shattered. Hryn stood in the middle of the room and stared down at the body of the tailor. He was still breathing, though barely, and his body was covered in cuts... he appeared to have a broken bone or two, as well. Three men lay on the floor around him, one with his neck turned halfway around, so that he appeared to be looking over his shoulder... another's bowels were open, and spilled across the floor like a rug made of gore. The third had a hole in his chest, through which Nanten's arm still protruded. The Tailor had passed out almost as soon as he had killed the man, then.

 

Hryn knelt down, removing Nanten's arm from the hole, and gingerly removed the trail of muscle that clung to it. He flipped the man over, onto his back, and stood up, admiring the scene. He removed the three dead men from the shop, pitching them out the back door into a heap, and dragged Nanten into his back room. And there he sat and waited for the Tailor to awaken.

 

-------------------------

 

Loryn trembled outside the Lonely Sailor... she sank to her knees and covered her face. One moment she'd been in the room with Gavin... he'd been silent for nearly three hours, had been staring at the candle... and then the temperature had risen ever so slightly. The next thing she knew, Loryn was floating in blackness, Gavin holding her by the elbows and staring at her with his cold, black eyes. He'd smiled at her.

 

"Loryn, Loryn..." He'd shaken his head and clicked his tongue. "Trust me, I do understand why you had to cloud my mind. And I don't hold it against you... I just want you to know that." And then he'd pulled her against him, spun her around. He'd held her head still and forced her to look into the blackness. "Or should I say Dessina? Yes, I know your name..." Gavin had chuckled under his breath. "Would you like to know mine, Dessina?" He'd leaned in, and whispered in her ear. A name. A simple name. "Gavin Althane."

 

Loryn watched the Sailor burn, her eyes wide in shock. Althane... the Dead Council had spoken of the Althane line... as one being closely and directly descended from Holy Althis. The boy was a direct descendant of a god. And she had... tried to conrol his thoughts. Not only was he Chosen, he was... Loryn shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. She was numb inside, cold despite the raging fire in front of her.

 

There was no penance for this... no way she could ever atone to Holy Althis. Loryn pushed herself to her feet, and walked into the Sailor.

[Finnius]

Hryn sat quietly and sipped his tea. Nanten had stockpiles of the stuff, in all varieties. He was an addict, Hryn thought... as much as someone could be addicted to tea. There was a pot of it still simmering, and Hryn had been through several cups already. Nanten still lay unconscious on the floor, giving Hryn ample time for reflection. He fully expected that the few guards who patrolled the streets of Cold Port would find the bodies outside Nanten's back door within an hour or so. Hryn no longer cared.

 

If the guards came, he'd deal with them. Nanten shifted slightly, brought a hand up to his head and groaned. Hryn slid his cup into the center of the table and stood up, kneeling down next to Nanten.

 

"Morning, tailor... enjoy your nap?" Nanten slowly opened one eye and turned it to Hryn.

 

"Still haven't lost your dry wit, I see... and it still hasn't gotten any better." Nanten forced himself to his feet long enough to let his bulk fall into a chair with a soft grunt. "Tell me, Fixer... why did you come back? Decide to apologize already?"

 

Hryn smoothly retook his chair, cocking his head to one side. "Actually, yes... not so much because I'm actually sorry, as because I need something." Nanten shook his head and laughed under his breath.

 

"Ever the politician. Don't you even want to know what happened here, Fixer?" Hryn shrugged and pulled the cup back over to his hand, raising it to sip lightly.

 

"Not particularly, but I'm sure you're going to tell me, so why not just assume that I care?" Nanten raised one eyebrow.

 

"You're right, Hryn, I am going to tell you. Those men were agents of the Dead Council, but I'm sure you realized that already... the one with the whole in his chest? He was a council member, Hryn, and one sympathetic to Fexus' goals. I'd been feeding him disinformation, and he'd been bringing me closer to your Loryn Halgus. And then, out of nowhere... his eyes flashed black and he started trying to kill me. Pour me a cup, would you?"

 

"Black?" Hryn reached over to the counter, took another cup and the pot, and poured tea for the tailor. "Are you sure, Nanten?" There was a sinking feeling in Hryn's gut, and his breath came shallow. Nanten took the cup, and nodded.

 

"Yes... black as coal. He screamed something before he tried to kill me, Hryn... Die, dog of Fexus." Nanten met Hryn's eyes. "I hadn't told him that I worked for Fexus... and I don't keep my contacts with our master public." Hryn stared into his cup, meeting the reflection of his eyes... his cold, killer's eyes. Hryn took another sip.

 

----------------------

 

Loryn stood in the Sailor, the flames licking around her... she could feel the heat, she knew on some level that she should be burning. Everywhere, the flames danced into Gavin's face. He smiled at her and shook his head. Loryn walked up the stairs, the flames catching at her clothes, swirling around her without burning her. Gavin's fiery form followed alongside her, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

 

Loryn paused at the top of the stairs, paused and looked down the hall. The ghost of Gavin slipped into Hryn's room, beckoning with one burning finger. Loryn followed behind, stumbling through the blaze, wrapped in warm orange light. The creature of flames stood in the room, surprisingly still intact... the candles had melted into pools of wax on the floor, the curtains were black and curled, but other than that...

 

Gavin stretched out a hand, motioned to a dresser drawer. Loryn slowly walked to it and pulled it open... the wooden handles of the drawer were cool to the touch. Inside rested a stack of books, the name Saevus Sospita inscribed on the front of each one. The writings of Sospita. Loryn picked up the tomes, held them tight to her chest, and turned to Gavin's burning image. He stretched out a hand, wreathed in flames, and caressed the side of her face.

 

He smiled again, and then lost his form, melting back into the flames from which he'd come... leaving Loryn standing there, covered in fire but unburning. She clutched the books to her tighter, and left the room.

 

----------------------

 

Fexus sat in the deepest bowels of Hammer Keep, his legs crossed in the darkness. The only light was a low crackling glow which eminated from his own arms, wrapped in lightning. In front of him was an altar... Fexus' own personal god. It was waist high, and solid granite, carved with images of lions and snakes, the same images which graced his pendant... Fexus had adopted the lion and snake as his personal seal. The top of the altar was curved ever so slightly, and in the center of it sat an orb of purest diamond. Fexus had seen many diamonds, but never one this exquisite. It was faceted on the inside, and any light that it caught was quickly spread throughout the orb, making it glow like the sun. The outside was smooth, perfectly ovoid. How many times had Fexus caressed that orb, and wished he could lift it from its altar...

 

Fexus sat in front of his altar and worshiped his orb. The keeper of the storms, and the source of his power. The Court at Hammerfall. A soft clearing of the throat behind him. He hadn't even heard anyone enter. Fexus snapped himself out of his reverie and spun to his feet, turning to face the intruder. Kira stood in the doorway, a letter in her hand. The Fixer bowed lowly, touching her fist to the stone floor.

 

"A message for you, Master Fexus. Urgent, or I wouldn't have intruded." Fexus closed his eyes and nodded shallowly.

 

"Leave it in front of the door. I'll read it when I'm done." Kira placed the letter on the cold granite, nodding her head farther towards the ground. Fexus opened his eyes. "You may leave me now, Fixer."

 

Kira rose and slipped out the door, drawing it closed behind her. Fexus turned back to his altar, starting as he saw the orb... for a moment, he'd been sure a single black eye had floated in its center, staring at him... must've just been a trick of his mind. Fexus forced more power through his arms, illuminating the room. The orb caught his light and burned brighter than the sun. Almost as bright as Fexus' ambitions.

 

------------------------

 

The streets of Hammerfall swept around Gavin. It was raining again. He'd only been here a day, and it had let up for an entire minute. Just after sunrise, when he'd felt Natayu being accessed once more... it had surged with power and the clouds had broken apart for a spare moment. Gavin had glimpsed the sun through them briefly... and the people of Hammerfall had hung out their windows and rang bells in joy.

 

Gavin had aquired a long cloak shortly after reaching the city, and kept the hood low over his face, to hide his eyes... he wasn't sure how many people would understand the meaning behind them, but onyx eyes were not an everyday occurence in any case. And so he walked through the streets of Hammerfall, his boots clipping the stones of the streets, and a drenched cloak smoothed over his form.

 

The rain ceased to matter to him, and he didn't feel the cold anymore... but it was still annoying. Gavin ducked into a tavern, a low-slung affair carved into the side of a larger building, which was carved into the cliffs that surrounded the city. Most buildings in Hammerfall were made of pure granite, and seemed to grow out of the cliffs. It was an odd beauty, to Gavin's mind.

 

The tavern was named, appropriately enough, the Dead Man's Cup. It reeked of cheap wine and vomit. A few wooden tables crowded the interior, and a large fireplace burned brightly against the far wall. Gavin made his way to the barkeep and ordered bread, soup, and water. The barkeep looked ascance at him and quoted him a price far higher than what was reasonable. Gavin lifted his head and briefly locked eyes with the man, under guise of adjusting his hood. The barkeep quoted a much lower price, one far more reasonable.

 

Gavin slipped him a few coins and took a seat. He slumped into his chair, resting his arms on the table and dripping a spreading pool of water onto the floor. It didn't take long for him to be joined by a pair of burly men, bald and with their eyebrows pierced. Gavin had never seen a man with piercings... in Cold Port, no man would disgrace himself by letting metal be speared through his flesh. Not many women would, either. Gavin reminded himself he was no longer in Cold Port, and rested his hands on the table.

 

One of the men looked at the other... the two could've been twins they looked so much alike. "Hey, Robyn... wh't'da ya t'nk we 've 're?" His accent was near incomprehensible... Gavin pricked up his ears as the other responded.

 

"Ay' 'nt 'ure, m'lado, 'ut he 'ooks a 'ar sight 'etter'n 'at 'ast un." Robyn, if Gavin caught his name right, winked at his twin and pulled a fat coin out of his pocket, laying it on the table in front of Gavin. "An' 'ow'd 'ou 'ike ta 'ake a 'retty penny, 'oll? Ay'n Kor'd 'e look'n'r a 'hird fer a 'light 'pot'a work." Gavin tried to figure out what the man had said, eventually decided it was a bad job, and was about to ask him to clarify when the barkeep arrived with his meal. Gavin thanked the man, and instead of answering took a sip of water.

 

Robyn poked his twin... Kor, in the ribs harshly. "I 'on' t'nk 'e's 'av' ta w't w're a'rt'r." Kor shrugged and watched Gavin eat.

 

"We m'ght's 'ell 'et'm 'e't 'rst. 'Nly' 'li'ght." Gavin shook his head and took a mouthful of bread.

 

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I don't think I understand what you're trying to ask me. Maybe if you could speak a bit slower?"

 

Robyn looked at Kor, and they both grinned at each other. Robyn broke the silence, speaking slower and thickly ennunciated.

 

"Wat my br'ther an' I was ask'ng is'f you'd be in'rested in a spot of work. 'E seems ta th'nk you'd be good f'r it."

 

Gavin took another bite and grinned. Simple street-jobs would be far too easy for Gavin, but money was money... and the more of it he could muster, the easier it would be to pull Fexus down. "What'd you have in mind?"

 

-----------------------

 

Hryn and Nanten sat up far into the night, discussing what he'd found out. The Halgus woman had been heavily addicted to magebane, and was buying it from the Council, through secondhand dealers. When they found out she was also dealing with Fexus on the side... well, they'd reacted swiftly and certainly. From what Nanten gathered, she wasn't dead yet, or more to the point, she wasn't completely dead yet. A fitting end for Loryn Halgus, Hryn thought.

 

As for Gavin... Hryn told Nanten what had happened, told him that the Master had wanted the boy brought into his service, something about a mutual matter of their births... the same reason he'd called Hryn to Hammer Keep all those years ago. Nanten's face clouded over, and he chewed his lip.

 

"So did he tell you where he was going?" Hryn shook his head, sipping at his tea... he'd been drinking tea the entire day, and was starting to get sick of the stuff.

 

"He told me that I was a means to an ends... whatever that means, and that he was too. I think he was trying to leave me a clue." Hryn stared into his cup, swirling it around shallowly.

 

"That could mean any number of things, Fixer... have you been back to the Court here yet?" Hryn cocked an eyebrow.

 

"No, should I have?" Nanten's eyes widened in surprise.

 

"So you don't know, then? The Court's been locked down, Hryn... the Council's behind it, and they have the full support of every High Judge in the city... no one comes in, no one goes out." Hryn cocked his head to one side, taking another sip.

 

"Any idea why?"

 

"None... but your answer may lie there, Fixer. It's the only thing I can think of. After all, that was why you were sent here in the first place, right? To take control of the Court for Fexus?" Hryn nodded slowly.

 

"Yes... that is why I'm here... the ends to my means." Hryn glanced up, gave Nanten a small grin. "Looks like I have a target, then... thank you, tailor."

 

Nanten looked away from Hryn's eyes, and back into his cup. He stared himself in the eye, and didn't look back up until Hryn had risen from his chair and left his shop. He didn't like lying to the man... gods knew, Hryn had been through enough already... but Nanten knew what Fexus' true purpose had been for him from the start. And now that he'd done his part, Nanten the Tailor could finally let himself be.

 

He walked out of his shop, and into the night. Nanten had an appointment to keep, with a boat back to Hammerfall.

[Finnius]

Hryn stalked the rooftops of Cold Port, moving from one to the next with a feline grace born of years of climbing trees as a child... Hryn didn't let himself think about his childhood very often, but every once in a while it surfaced despite his blocking it out. He distinctly remembered flitting from limb to limb, tumbling through the branches only to catch himself expertly just before he hit the ground. Hryn had been the most nimble boy in Blackthorn... he allowed himself a small grin as he cleared the space between a thatcher's shop and the Court at Cold Port.

 

Hryn came to an easy landing on the roof, skidding a few inches and stretching out his arms to catch himself with his fingertips. The roof of the building, one of a very few stone roofs in this city, was surprisingly warm to the touch... Hryn checked to make sure he hadn't landed near a chimney, and then swung his head over the side, looking into a third-story window... no fire, or at least no firelight.

 

Hryn swung his head back up, dismissing this small mystery, and crawled across the roof to where he knew a disused chimney to be located. Hryn found the chimney, quickly checked to make sure it was as disused as he'd been told, and noting that it was out at least for the moment, Hryn slipped inside, bracing himself against the walls of the chimney and sliding down quickly. He rolled out of the fireplace, kicking up a cloud of soot which quickly settled over him, darkening his features. He scanned the room quickly, noting a few soft chairs and couches, a wooden desk and cabinets. Hryn turned to leave, and was stopped by a soft echo of laughter.

 

"I expected far better from the great Fixer Hryn than this... tell me, Mallon; why the chimney?" Hryn turned his head toward the sound as a misty form solidified into one of the chairs, legs crossed easily and resting its head on its hands. It was dressed in simple gray cotton and wore black leather shoes. It had short, white hair, expertly cut. And most of all, Hryn stared into its cold, black eyes.

 

"It was preferable to taking the door." Hryn let the man think he was Mallon, for the moment... it was useful. "To what do I owe the pleasure of the personal company of the head of the Dead Council? How long has it been, Loghis?"

 

The white-haired man smiled amiably at Hryn, shrugged lightly. "I'd heard you were in Cold Port. How could I not pay a visit to the right-hand man of my former ally? Tell me, Hryn... how much of Fexus' planning are you privy to?"

 

"Enough to know that you won't walk out of this room alive, corpse." Loghis closed his eyes and chuckled softly.

 

"Correct, mighty Hryn. I haven't walked out of a room alive in over a hundred years." The man shrugged again. It was an annoying habit of his. "But I was asking if you had any idea what Fexus actually planned to do with the Courts."

 

"None at all. Not that it matters. What Fexus wishes is what I'll do, regardless of whether I agree with his ends."

 

Loghis fixed Hryn with a black-eyed stare, narrowing his eyes and dropping his hands, straightening in the seat.

 

"Hryn... do you even know what the Courts are? What they can do?"

 

Hryn grinned at the man and shrugged. "Does it matter? You know that it won't make a difference to me, dead man."

 

"Too true..." Loghis settled back into his chair, the leather squeaking as he did.

 

"You aren't going to try and stop me? Throw yourself at me uselessly?" Loghis shook his head with a bemused smirk.

 

"Of course not, Fixer Hryn." Loghis shrugged. Again. Hryn's eye twitched and he briefly imagined tearing Loghis' arms from his body. "The lowest levels of the Court are where you'll find your answer. My men have orders to observe but not interfere. You'll never even see them..." Loghis dissipated into mist once more, his eyes hanging in space for a moment, watching Hryn.

 

And then all was silence for a moment. Hryn turned from the room, and slipped out into the Court.

 

True to his word, no man barred Hryn's path as he made his way to the lower levels of the Court. Hryn could feel the eyes on his back, though, a tingle like a thousand spiders crawling on his shoulders. The Court was dark, unlit... the dead could see in the dark. Hryn had to make due with a hand on the wall. When he hit the lower levels, his memory of the layout of this place failed him... Hryn had never been this deep before.

 

He walked forward slowly, feeling ahead of him with a foot... a blind man in the kingdom of the dead. Hryn chuckled softly, the sound echoing back to him distorted and dark. Hryn's eyes were wide open, he could feel the pupils dilated out as far as they could go, trying vainly to drink in whatever light still travelled these dead corridors. None did, and so Hryn stumbled deeper into the Court at Cold Port.

 

The path tread downward, and twisted slightly... A descending spiral, if Hryn visualized it correctly. At least there were no branching paths, as he had worried there would be... just a long, slow spiral into the ground.

 

---------------------

 

Robyn and Kor weren't bad sorts, once you got to know them... Gavin almost liked the brothers. They were not, as he'd thought, twins. Robyn was older by almost a year. The two ran magebane in Hammerfall's streets, selling them to Fexus' officials and advisors. The man himself had never tried it, which didn't surprise Gavin in the least. Nearly everyone on his council of advisors was hopelessly addicted, though... a useful fact to remember.

 

The brothers used the money to quietly fund orphanages, schools, and kitchens across the breadth of Hammerfall, as well as making a tidy profit for themselves. They were dissenters, as well, and with a proper push, Gavin imagined they could be turned against Fexus openly. They'd fail, of course... as large as their resource-pool was, it was a drop in the bucket that was Hammerfall, and Fexus held that bucket. They might be enough of a diversion for Gavin to make his move, though...

 

Gavin shook his head and cleared those thoughts as Kor slapped Robyn on the shoulder, laughing raucously.

 

"An' 'en 'e 'aid... 'ut aye 're 'nly 'king!" The brothers slammed meaty fists into the table, lost in laughter and red-faced from drinking. Gavin didn't understand half the words out of their mouths, but they'd come to an agreement over the last few hours. Gavin would transport magebane for them, which would bring him closer to Fexus than he could otherwise get on his own, and he'd receive a share of the profits.

 

Overall, a benefit for Gavin all around. He grinned at the joke, something about a farmer's wife, if he understood correctly... or his daughter... or both. In any case, it was raunchy and low-brow. Gavin shook his head and ordered another glass of water.

 

------------------------

 

A soft glow had started to permeate the walls as Hryn stalked deeper, and the thousand spiders had coalesced into a few very large spiders. He was still being watched, but instead of many watchers, it was now only two. One set at Hryn's back, the other waiting for him... wherever this tunnel let out.

 

And then it did, widening suddenly and splaying itself into a circular room... empty save for a low stone altar with a black orb sitting in a depression carved into its top. Hryn glanced at the walls... a steady progression of images were carved into them, wrapping around the room. To Hryn's left were representations of a large man, thickly muscled and bald, swinging a hammer into what appeared to be a mountain range. Behind him stood a lithe man with flowing hair, his face set into a mask of disinterest.

 

Next was an image of the larger man sitting cross-legged and wreathed in flames while the willowy one held a spear and watched over him. The scene bled into another, the spear-bearer locked in combat with some sort of beast-man... a large form with thick fur and a mane like a lion, its face barely recognizable as human. It had large teeth and heavy claws. Next was the beast-man elbow-deep in the spear-bearer's chest.

 

And to Hryn's left, the man took up the entire far wall, his hair flowing around him and arms outstretched, with a gaping hole where his heart should be... his eyes open and serene. Althis' death, if Hryn understood correctly. He turned back to the altar, stepping forward slowly. Hryn stared into the black orb for a long minute, and then placed his hand on it. His head exploded with sound. A voice like thunder flowed into his brain.

 

Balphinus system, state your identity.

 

"What... how? Who?" Hryn reeled, breaking contact and falling to the floor... the voice continued in his head, drowning out his thoughts.

 

Hloran line detected, match confirmed. Access granted.

[Finnius]

The stone floor was cold against Hryn's cheek. He focused on the sandstone... trying vainly to remain conscious while images flitted through his brain one after the other, blinding his eyes and filling his ears with thunderous noise. His nose trailed blood across his lips, the salty tang caressing his tongue. Hryn shivered and held his head, then slammed a fist against the floor.

 

An aerial view of Hammerfall, the smooth granite towers rising majestically into the air. The view drops drastically, spinning to focus on Hammer Keep, and a man in blue robes staring out into the night air, eyes fixed on the Falls, and the majestic stones upon which the water crashes. He stretches his arms wide, closing his eyes, and tiny droplets of water lift off the ground, forming softly vibrating puddles in the air... the clouds above roil and bubble.

 

A flash of lightning throws a harsh light over the scene, and the view pulls back, into the clouds and then above them. A storm swirls around Hammerfall, a spinning circle of gray funneling down and centered on Hammer Keep. To the west, a smaller piece of the storm breaks off, moving north and growing in size. Even from this distance, immense bolts of lightning color the sky with purple and blue.

 

Hryn felt a shiver in the back of his mind, a cold detached fear like the gnaw of three-day hunger. His eyes seeped tears, mingling with the blood from his nose. The flashes continued.

 

A floating eye, a view from behind a cloaked figure bobbing and weaving through throngs of people in the packed streets of Hammerfall. He wears a brown cloak, with a hood pulled up over his face. His steps are light and easy, a trained step... he slips through the crowd without once making bodily contact. A soft rain slicks the cloak to his body as he slides his hand easily into the pocket of a well-dressed individual... there is something pocketed, and the hand returns with a fat purse. The man in the cloak nods shallowly to the other, and then turns to head back down the street.

 

As he goes, the hood of the cloak flares out slightly, revealing a youthful face framed by dark hair... a face with jet-black eyes.

 

Hryn gasped and spasmed... whatever this thing was, it had just shown him Gavin. Although, how Gavin had gotten to Hammerfall was beyond Hryn. He pushed himself to his knees, his body trembling under the weight of the visions being forced into his head. Hryn lifted his head, his eyes twitching, and then shuddered as yet another wave hit him.

 

Three men kneel on the edges of a dark circle, their heads raised to look at a white-haired man standing in the middle. All of them have black eyes... as does the one in the center. The white-haired man walks around the circle, lightly pressing a thumb to the forehead of each kneeling man. As he touches their brows, the men lower their eyes, and the circle glows with a soft light.

 

The white-haired man draws a heavy knife from his robes, and slowly pulls it across his palm. A few drops of blood spatter the floor. The circle's light intensifies. The white-haired man moves in a blur, touching each of the kneelers too quick to track, and then stands in the center, still, his hand closed into a fist. The three men on their knees turn their heads up as one, a shocked expression spreading across their lips.

 

The white-haired man opens his fist, and six black eyes fall to the ground as the three fall on their sides and decay into ash. The white-haired man turns to look forward, knowing eyes staring into Hryn's soul. His mouth spreads open, words slipping out like sand. Words that rumble like thunder.

 

"A lesson. Learn well."

 

The flashes pulled back from Hryn's mind, allowing his body to finally regain full control over itself. Hryn forced himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with an unsteady hand, and took a few ragged breaths. A cold voice echoed through the chamber, rolling like thunder.

 

Access cut, system shutting down.

 

The orb flared brightly for a few moments, and then the light receeded into it once more, leaving the room with a pale glow... Hryn stood still for a full minute afterwards, counting his heartbeats and letting his eyes adjust to the relative darkness. A soft orange glow bobbed down the hallway behind him, throwing dancing shadows on the walls. Hryn turned towards the exit, only to find Gerod Loghis, head of the Dead Council, standing in the doorway with a torch in one hand and blood running down the other.

 

"Tell me, Fixer Hryn... did Balphinus give you your answers?"

 

-----------------

 

Fexus stood on top of Hammer Keep, feeling the energy of his god flowing into him... he could see the perfect diamond in his mind, flashing with white-hot light as it granted him its power. Rivulets of water flowed off his arms and joined the dancing spheres of moisture which spun around him. Fexus could hear the world turning, could feel the movements of the ocean beneath his footsteps.

 

A storm was brewing over Hammerfall, but then a storm was always brewing over Hammerfall. Fexus would have it no other way. He was one with the storm, a thing whole and powerful, masterful... and very, very dangerous. He split a segment of the storm off, allowing the main body to run unchecked for a moment. The segment, Fexus moved out to sea, swelling its fury and size until it became a hurricane... and this he directed toward Cold Port.

 

Nanten's carriers had arrived, bringing word that the Althane boy was dead, and most likely working for the Council. Hryn had failed Fexus. And now, mused Fexus, he would have to take matters into his own hands. If the Dead Council survived his storm, they'd likely retaliate in force. Fexus poured more strength into his storm, spun it faster. He felt the depression in the ocean's surface as the winds beat downwards, supporting the monstrosity on a column of air as hard as granite. None would survive... Fexus would see to it.

 

--------------------

 

Hryn dusted himself off, smoothed his shirt.

 

"I thought I was to be watched, and not interfered with." Loghis rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

 

"Yes, well, I changed my mind. Tell me, Hryn, what did you see?" Hryn cocked an eyebrow and ran a hand across his hip, trailing red across his black leathers.

 

"That would be my business, dead man. Now are you going to let me walk out of here without any further trouble, or do I spread your bones about this room?"

 

Loghis narrowed his eyes, his white hair falling over his face. He brushed it back behind his ears and spoke lowly.

 

"What makes you so certain you could do that, Hryn?"

 

"Care to find out, corpse?"

 

Loghis raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "If you really want to try, be my guest... you might want to wait a few minutes, though."

 

"And why's that?"

 

"Because your master just drew up enough power to level half the Krishin Island, and directed it towards us. Still loyal, dog of Fexus?"

 

Hryn's lips cracked into a thin smile and returned the shrug.

 

"I accepted my death a long time ago, Loghis... a practice I would suggest you get familiar with. The Master does as he wills... it isn't my place to question that." The white-haired man chuckled softly and shook his head.

 

"You really don't know when to admit that Fexus has abandoned you, do you? Tell you what, Hryn... work for me. I'm jumping ship for a while, Cold Port's not going to survive this thing. What do you say?" Hryn chuckled under his breath and closed his eyes.

 

"I say no."

 

Loghis sighed heavily and raised his eyebrows. "I don't think you understand, here... if you don't say yes, you'll end up buried underneath more wood and stone than I care to imagine. Unless you're very good at tunneling, you really don't have much choice."

 

"Right. Well, no choice but to die, anyway." Hryn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, glancing over at Loghis. "Tell me, though, if I say yes, how do you plan to get us out of here?"

 

The dead man with the white hair walked past Hryn and into the center of the chamber, stood reverantly before the alter with its black orb.

 

"Balphinus... the Truth of Fate, which Althis spoke to his brother Mephis shortly before his ascendance to holy death." Loghis turned his head to glance at Hryn, motionless against the wall. "Do you know what that truth was, Fixer?"

 

"Can't say that I do, or care to... but I'm sure you're going to tell me." Loghis chuckled and placed his hand on the orb. A low humming filled the room, vibrating in Hryn's bones.

 

"All things end in time, Fixer... before Cold Port there was another city here, swept away by a tidal wave. None now remember its name. Before Fexus, Hammerfall was governed by the Hloran line... it must vex you to be indentured to your overthrower, Mallon. And before them, it belonged to the Althane line. Those rules ended, the city changed... and this, too, shall pass, my dear Mallon." The hum became a low bass rumble, shaking dust from the dome of sandstone above the altar.

 

"How quaint." Loghis threw his head back, staring at the roof, and laughed softly.

 

"Althis knew more than he spoke, though. After his death, he realized that the world was not one thing, dying and creating. It was two things, the light half which we creatures are born into, and the other side... a negative reflection, if you will. Althis saw the cycle inherent... all things die and are reborn into this underworld, then die again and migrate back here, stripped of their memories. Holy Althis decided to change that cycle."

 

Hryn stretched and yawned, pushing off the wall. A low rumble of thunder echoed through the corridors and bounced off the walls of the chamber.

 

"I assume this story is going somewhere..." Loghis ignored Hryn, placing his other hand on the orb.

 

"Before Althis, the world was split into two halves, unable to touch each other except for at the moment of death. Althis bridged the gap... even now, he holds the gates open. And because of that, there is a space... between this world and the next. Among other things, that space can be used to move without movement." The orb flared brightly, throwing shadows behind Loghis and Hryn. "And that's what I offer you, Fixer Hryn. Or should I say Mallon Hloran? I can access Balphinus to move the two of us out of here, or I can go myself and leave you to your fate. What do you say?" Hryn smiled again and chuckled.

 

"I say no. Again."

 

Loghis shook his head and chuckled.

 

"Ever the loyal dog... even unto death." Loghis' body fuzzed at the edges, little pieces splintering off and dissipating. His voice echoed through the room, a wraith's whisper. "Perhaps holy Althis will have mercy on you in your next life... goodbye, Mallon."

 

Hryn darted forward, planting his palm into the back of Loghis' fuzzing skull. It was like grasping at fog... but grasp, Hryn did. Loghis solidified and gasped, flailing at the air. Hryn put a hand against the base of his neck, and jerked back with a strength born of desperation. Two black orbs came with it, trailing strings of red.

 

"Mallon Hloran is dead, corpse. And so are you." Ash coated Hryn's legs as the body standing before him crumbled and collapsed. Thunder rolled outside and the room trembled. Hryn stood for a moment, then dropped the eyes onto the floor and placed his hand on the orb. He felt the cold sphere seep into his mind again. The backs of his eyes burned and for a moment he was sure he'd collapse again. The voice rolled into his head once more.

 

Balphinus system, state your identity.

 

"Hryn, servant of Fexus." The orb flashed brightly, pale blue light churning in its core.

 

Hostmask Hryn added to authorized access list. What is your wish?

 

"Can you take me to Hammerfall?" The orb settled into a pattern of blue on white.

 

Request confirmed... prepare for transit.

[Finnius]

The world exploded into white around Hryn, melting away in a blinding flash and then settling into a swirling gray mass. He felt numbly cold and his limbs tingled with goosebumps and pinpricks. There was a distinct lack of sound for the first few minutes, which disconcerted Hryn to no end… he was used to the heartbeats of the cities where he plied his trade, the soft whisper of wind on the waves or through the grass. Hryn lived in a world where sound meant life.

 

The roiling mass of nothing split into two distinct halves, two huge and imposing waves sliding effortlessly over each other. A voice like thunder rolled through the void, the voice of Balphinus audible to Hryn’s ears for the first time, instead of projected into his mind.

 

“Estimated time to arrival in Hammerfall is one hundred and sixty-eight hours. Would you like to remain conscious for the trip?”

 

Hryn tried to turn his head to search for the source of the voice, only to find that he was unable to move at all. He quickly did the math in his head.

 

“Wait… you’re telling me that it’s going to take an entire week to get to Hammerfall?” There was a soft sound of flowing water from behind Hryn, and a barely perceptible breeze.

 

“That is correct.”

 

“Then why did you show me Gavin already in Hammerfall?” The breeze came a bit stronger, the sound of water was now a gentle river.

 

“Gavin Althane is in Hammerfall.”

 

Hryn’s eyes narrowed to slits.

 

“That doesn’t answer the question… why did you show me that he was there?” The breeze became a distinct wind, a hint of moisture coated Hryn, small stinging bits of water.

 

“Gavin Althane instructed me to do so.”

 

“Gavin has accessed you?”

 

“Correct. He left instructions to add Hryn to the Hostmask list.”

 

“Did he leave a reason why?” The wind became a gale, whipping Hryn’s clothes around him while a spray of harsh rain cut into his soft flesh, peppering small drops of red across his face.

 

“Gavin Althane left a message recorded in the eventuality of your questioning. Would you like to view it?”

 

Hryn’s eyes closed momentarily and then opened again.

 

“Yes. Show it to me.”

 

--------------------

 

Gavin stood suspended in midair, between two rolling clouds of gray, two monolithic spheres of nothing. He stared forward, black eyes wide drawn up at the corners, a smile with the eyes. He held his hands behind his back and faced Hryn, the wind and rain whipping him and making him bleed. This was not strictly necessary… but Gavin knew that Hryn would be hard-pressed to accept any easy form of travel. The man was stubborn. He cleared his throat and addressed his former master.

 

“Good evening, Hryn… I trust you are still alive and bound to Fexus’ will?”

 

Hryn stared straight forward, immobile. He’d likely been thrown off by Balphinus’ mislabeling this as some kind of recording. And it was, to an extent… but far more than that, Gavin here was just as conscious as the Gavin Althane who walked the streets of Hammerfall.

 

“Fine, then, don’t answer.” Gavin sighed heavily. “Point is, Hryn, I expect you have a few questions by now. Why not get them off your chest so you can move on?” Hryn almost cocked his head to one side… Gavin could sense the request for physical mobility through Balphinus’ systems. He cut it off, and noted the unconscious accessing that Hryn was performing… interesting.

 

“Tell me what this is, Gavin. What exactly are the Courts?” Gavin smiled and shook his head.

 

“Straight to business, then? Not interested in how I’ve been doing these last few days?” Hryn rolled his eyes and remained silent. “Fine, then. The Courts, as you label them, are far more than your master Fexus believes them to be. He accessed the Court at Hammerfall through sheer luck and maintains his connection through force of will. He also misguidedly believes it is some sort of god. Trust me, Hryn… Natayu is many things, but a god it is not.”

 

“Natayu… I’ve heard that name before, and Balphinus. Saevus Sospita wrote of Natayu as a hammer and Balphinus as a scythe. He claimed that Mephis forged these as tools to help make the world.”

 

“Sospita was a man with extraordinary vision, and not near enough life-span. He saw more of the Twin’s Empire than any other human on this planet… Saevus was there for the start, and very nearly for the end.”

 

Hryn thought for a moment… Gavin could see the synapses firing through Balphinus’ careful monitoring of the man’s internal functioning.

 

“How old was Saevus Sospita when he died?” Gavin smiled widely.

 

“That all depends on how you define death.”

 

“So Sospita was a dead man, like the Council?” Gavin shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

 

“No, Saevus was most definitely not like the Council. Let’s just say that he and Althis… have a few things in common.”

 

“Can you be any less specific? I think I might’ve understood some of that.”

 

The wind kicked up for a moment, tearing small pieces of flesh off Hryn’s arms.

 

“Keep your tone, dog of Fexus. I’m trying to help you here.” The wind died back down to a harsh gale. “Sospita wrote his tomes in hopes that someone like you might eventually uncover the truth about the tools of Mephis.”

 

Hryn cocked an eyebrow, and Gavin let him.

 

“And what truth would that be?”

 

“That Mephis did not create them. He only created the access keys.” Gavin let his hands move in front of his body, spreading them wide. A sphere of cold blue light formed in his left hand, and a swirling mass of purple crackled around his right. Gavin help up his right hand. “Natayu… Land’s Beginning. Raw and uncontrolled power, chaotic creation. Natayu governs all energy, all matter… in short, the physical world is Natayu’s province.”

 

Gavin extended the pale orb in his left hand. “Balphinus, the Truth of Fate… at first, Balphinus controlled the factors of speed, decay, ordered destruction. As time went on, it was given domain over the chord of spiritual death as well. Balphinus has always been the most stable of the three… Natayu is closer to a caged animal than anything else, and Machia… Machia operates on a level so far beyond us it would be insane to try and understand it. Which brings us to Fexus, and you.”

 

Hryn nodded and crossed his arms. A third ball of light, pure white tinged with every color imaginable formed halfway between the other two and stretched out thin trails of luminescence to the other two, connecting them to itself.

 

“Machia… the Light in Darkness. Machia is the youngest of the three and by far the most powerful. Where Natayu controls the physical world and Balphinus governs the spiritual, Machia governs Balphinus and Natayu. It makes sure that their abilities are not abused and that, should the governing intelligences behind the two control systems become unstable, a new mind will take their place. So far that hasn’t happened. But under Fexus, Natayu has been under constant usage, it’s never had a chance to rest. Natayu is going insane, Hryn.”

 

Hryn shrugged. “And? If this Machia can find another mind to take over the Court’s control, what’s the problem?”

 

“Machia can only draw control minds from the access-list. Basically, it can only empower people who already have an amount of control over the system. Do you know what the first thing Fexus did when he accessed Natayu was?”

 

“Let me guess… he erased the list.”

 

“Exactly… where Natayu’s list used to include the entire Althane line, and much of the Hloran, it now contains exactly one name. Fexus, Lord of Hammerfall. So far Fexus has tapped only a portion of Natayu’s potential, due mainly to his ignorance. If he is placed in direct control of the entire system… Hryn can you imagine if Fexus could directly control the entire physical world?”

 

Hryn gave a shiver inside and steeled his face.

 

“Fexus is my Master, Gavin… his wish is my command.”

 

Gavin grinned harshly and the balls faded from view.

 

“I know, Hryn, which is why I’m telling you this. Althis told me all about you. I know why everyone thinks you’re Mallon Hloran. And believe me, I intend to take Fexus down for what he’s done. Sleep now, Fixer… we’ll talk more when you hit Hammerfall.”

 

Gavin slipped into the mass of gray, and the clouds closed over Hryn, pulling him down into blackness.

[Finnius]

A driving rain cracked into the cobblestones of Cold Port. Through this rain ran a woman who until recently had been named Dessina ka’Marca Natros, and had been an expert assassin and negotiator in the direct employ of the Dead Council… Now she thought of herself as Loryn, a name given to her by a man she hated under circumstances which were all but the direct hand of holy Althis himself.

 

She clutched a stack of books to her chest, huddled protectively over them like a mother protecting her child. They contained the collected works of Saevus Sospita… a name which had meant very little to her until recently. Sospita had been passingly mentioned during her training for the Council, but only as a chronicler of Althis’ living days. Now she believed him to be much more…

 

The rain pelted her back, an occasional piece of hail mingling with it and bruising the flesh of her ribs or shoulders. She ducked into an alley to catch her breath, watching as a gargantuan bolt of lightning flared through the sky. It was mid-day, but a thick covering of clouds threw the shadow of midnight over Cold Port.

 

A deafening crash of thunder preceded a volley of hail and the sound of shattering glass. Loryn shivered and shoved the books under her already soaked shirt… it wasn’t much, but any cover was better than none, and Gavin had all but commanded her to keep them safe. Another crash of thunder, and a splintering of wood somewhere in the distance… the docks, if Loryn judged correctly.

 

Gavin Althane… Loryn shivered again, remembering his black eyes staring into hers. If she had known sooner, she’d never have… there was no use thinking about it now. The wind picked up, bowing in the sides of the wooden buildings across the street from her… buildings which had been constructed to withstand hurricanes. The Court was close now, just a few streets away. If she could reach it, Loryn could possibly find shelter within… the Court was one of the few stone structures in Cold Port, and had extensive catacombs.

 

Another flash of lightning lit the sky, revealing a funnel of black twisting down several streets away. Loryn stood transfixed for a moment as she watched it touch beyond the low buildings, kicking up clouds of stone and timber. And then she ducked back onto the street, heading toward the Court at a dead sprint.

 

-------------------

 

Fexus sat in his study with his legs crossed and his back to the door, an unusual position for him, but necessary so that he could gaze out his window at the great river which issued from the Falls and split his city in half. The waters moved slowly today, sluggish and swirling into the Frozen Sea. His storm raged over Cold Port now, he could feel its intensity in his bones, and fueled it with his force of will.

 

He felt every splintered building, every crushed life, every bolt of lightning which found a mark on stone or wood or flesh. Fexus sat crosslegged with small crackles of blue light playing in the folds of his robes. The hairs on the back of his arms were painfully erect, and threatened to lift out of his skin leaving small pinpoints of blood as they left… a feeling which could be quite uncomfortable.

 

A knock at the door broke Fexus from his musings, and the Lord of Hammerfall twisted around as his study door creaked open to reveal a wide man with graying hair.

 

“Nanten the Tailor… and to what do I owe the honor of your return, most trusted lieutenant?” Fexus pushed himself to his feet, as Nanten knelt and pressed a meaty fist to the stone floor.

 

“It is a pleasure to be back, m’lord. Your plan went off without a hitch… last I saw him, Hryn was rushing to storm the Court at Cold Port single-handedly.” Fexus nodded absently and crossed his arms.

 

“Of course… and Loghis was there as he’d said?” Nanten nodded briefly.

 

“Yes, m’lord Fexus.” Fexus closed his eyes and grinned widely.

 

“Where would you place his odds of survival, tailor?” Nanten raised his head, not quite meeting Fexus’ gaze.

 

“Hryn? What with Gerod Loghis and the rest of his council to deal with, I’d say he’s probably as good as dead by now, sir…” Fexus’ eyes opened a crack and he chuckled under his breath.

 

“What if Hryn only had Loghis to deal with?” Nanten’s eyes darted upwards dangerously before remembering their place and returning to Fexus’ cheeks.

 

“Assuming that… well, I’d still put my odds of the dead man, m’lord. Hryn may be good, but we’ve tried to kill Loghis before… the man’s nigh invulnerable.” Fexus shook his head and clucked.

 

“You of all people, Nanten, should know that nothing lasts forever. Loghis has a weakness, and you underestimate Hryn’s abilities in finding those.” Fexus spun around to stare out of his window once more. “I fully expect my Fixer to kill Gerod Loghis… which is why I’m destroying Cold Port. Hryn’s been useful, but he allowed the Althane boy to die… which wouldn’t have been a problem had he stayed that way. I have no choice but to believe he’s been subverted by the Council.” Fexus shrugged and glanced over his shoulder at Nanten, still kneeling in the doorway. “Pity, really. He had such potential, too. Now leave me, tailor. Take some time off… maybe a trip east. Somewhere warm.”

 

Nanten stood and bowed low to Fexus’ back, giving a soft murmur of thanks as he pulled the door shut behind him. Fexus sat back down, rolling his shoulders and popping his neck. Nothing lasted forever… Cold Port was proof enough of that.

 

-------------------

 

Loryn bounded up the stairs of the Court, the wind trying desperately to pull her back down. She nearly slipped on the top steps, barely catching herself against one of the stone pillars which held up the monolithic slab of the Court’s overhang. Behind her, another twisting mass of black touched down, throwing tiny shards of stone against her back… she felt one lodge in her left shoulder, and forced her way into the entrance foyer. As the door swung shut behind her, the driving rain and booming thunder were muted to a dull roar.

 

Loryn sank to her knees and leaned against the heavy doors, panting and gasping… her body may’ve been dead, but it still required oxygen to burn for fuel. Loryn mused on just how alive she would seem to someone who didn’t know better… she still breathed, she still ate… her blood was warm, and pumped through her veins as hotly as any mortal’s.

 

But she would never bear children; never feel the wrinkles of age. Her skin would not tan, and her sense of touch was muted to almost nothing. While she couldn’t feel much pain, she would never know the soft caress of a lover or a gentle kiss. Loryn pulled the books of Sospita from under her shirt, sighing in relief as she saw that the pages were little more than damp. The books would be fine…

 

Loryn caught her breath and reached around to feel at the wound in her shoulder… it was bleeding heavily, and she could feel the nub of stone that had impacted with her body, likely driving into the bone itself. She winced and gritted her teeth, tugging it out in one clean jerk. Sure enough, there was a tell-tale pulling sensation as a part of her shoulder blade bowed outwards.

 

Loryn swallowed heavily and drew a few ragged breaths as she waited for her body to begin repairing itself… one of the perks of being dead. She was a creature static, her wounds closing up within minutes. A lost limb, properly reattached would heal in hours, and even if lost, would take no more than a month to regrow… granted, it would consume large amounts of raw material, but it could be done.

 

Her shoulder began knitting itself back together and Loryn stood, scooping up the books. She couldn’t afford to stay here much longer. The Court, sturdy though it was, wouldn’t hold out forever against this mammoth storm… Loryn staggered her way into the halls, towards the stairs downwards to the catacombs. Behind her, a peal of thunder presaged a deafening crash of stone as the overhang collapsed against the door… there would be no turning back.

 

Loryn stood staring back for a moment, then turned and headed into the darkness.

Edited August 14, 2004 by Finnius

[Finnius]

Black rain pattered against darkly wet leather as Gavin stood in an alleyway staring down at the limp form of his former master, Hryn. The older man looked… so helpless. He’d materialized a few moments ago, just a few feet above the ground. He’d bounced a bit as he hit the granite streets and then curled in on himself, into a fetal position. His breathing was shallow and his eyes scrunched shut, twitching occasionally.

 

Gavin whistled sharply towards the front of the alley, where Robyn and Kor stood watch for any passers-by that might otherwise have turned down this back-street. The brothers had been shaken after learning that Gavin knew Hryn… much more so after learning that he intended to all but kidnap the man and store him in their home. He’d had a difficult time convincing them to agree to it…

 

Robyn nodded back and winked at his twin before sauntering back to stand beside Gavin, not-quite looking down at the huddled man curled at their feet. Hryn was a myth in his own time, here… mothers used his name to scare their children into bed at night. Fexus let just enough slip to his higher-ups about the Fixers and their enigmatic top-agent that they weren’t sure whether Hryn was real or not.

 

Gavin stooped and pulled one of Hryn’s arms around his shoulder, then motioned for Robyn to do the same. The bald man hesitated for a moment, then dropped and grabbed Hryn’s other arm. Together, they walked him out of the alley, turning down the street towards the brothers’ home.

 

-------------------

 

Soft pattering echoes bounced around the stone chamber, landing in Fexus’ ears as he stood in front of his altar staring down at the flawless diamond orb to which he prayed. It sat still and dead… mere moments ago, it had shone with the light of a thousand suns as Fexus channeled its power to fuel his storm. Although, Fexus mused, storm was far too weak a word for it…

 

And then it had sputtered and flashed erratically, and went dull. Fexus could still feel it… he could always feel the Court’s presence in his mind, a wild and untamed lion which begged to be used… and Fexus obliged it happily, most times. But now, it was quiet… pacing back and forth, like a beast in a cage, and watching him.

 

Fexus could feel the eyes on his back, and they were not friendly… his god was troubled. And so here he stood, staring at the sphere, flanked by two Fixers. Fexus took a step forward, placing a hand on the orb gently, caressing it and sliding his palm onto the smooth stone altar. It was warm to the touch, as if it had been sitting in the sun.

 

At first, Fexus had thought that his god was angry with him, that he had overstepped his bounds. Now he believed that it was worried about something. One minute Fexus had been pumping power and life into his storm, and then he’d felt an agonizing rip in his consciousness… there was a flash of light and a brief vision of clouds in his mind.

 

Behind him, the two Fixers Machen and Kira shared a glance at each other. Fexus removed his hand from the altar and spun around to face them, their heads snapping back into place as he did so.

 

“Leave me. Find Nanten… he should be at the eastern gates, or somewhere close. Bring him here.” The two bowed as one, and backed out of the room. Fexus turned back to the sphere, placing his hands on it again and staring into it…

 

A small spark of light, the barest of glimmers, formed in the center. This, Fexus stretched out his mind to touch. It was soft and fragile… a seed, an embryo. Something had frightened his god… something had made it withdraw into itself.

 

-------------------

 

Hryn’s prone form shifted fitfully on the bed. His eyelids flickered open and closed, the orbs themselves were rolled halfway back into his skull. Gavin sat on the bedside, one hand placed on the older man’s chest, feeling the frantic and erratic pace of his heart.

 

Gavin had been halfway surprised when Hryn had started twitching mere moments after they’d laid him down. Honestly, he’d been surprised that Hryn had survived at all… traveling between worlds was hard on the body, even if you were dead to begin with. For a normal human to survive, they had to be in top shape, and have a will stronger than iron. On the one, Gavin had no doubts, but on the other…

 

Gavin’s mind flashed back to his brief conversation with Althis. He’d shown Gavin the beginning… everything until his death, and so much more. He’d shown Gavin how the Althane and Hloran lines were connected… how Fexus fit into that. He’d shown him what Fexus had done to Hryn, and why everyone thought he was Mallon Hloran, a man who, by all rights, had died nearly twenty years ago.

 

But in many ways, Hryn was Mallon. At least in the only way that really mattered to the identification system of Balphinus… Mallon’s blood was Hryn’s blood, and that was what Gavin was counting on. If Natayu was still set up to recognize and add any member of the Hloran line, then all Gavin had to do was get Hryn to the access key.

 

If not… well, he’d have to convince the man to help him kill Fexus. Hryn hated his master, that much was certain… he only served the Lord of Hammerfall out of a misguided sense of duty. Gavin shook his head and sighed. Fexus had instilled that duty in Hryn himself, for just this reason…

 

On the bed, the man bolted upright and gasped deeply. Hryn’s chest shook and spasmed, and he clutched at his heart for a moment before falling back onto the pillows and sighing heavily.

 

“Finally awake, are you? How’s your head?” Gavin leaned over and winked at Hryn, a playful smile dancing on his face. Hryn opened his eyes a crack and raised an eyebrow.

 

“It feels like it was torn apart and put back together by a blind, half-lame thatcher.” Gavin chuckled a bit.

 

“Always the eloquent one, you are. Do you rem-“ Hryn’s hand shot outward, catching Gavin by the throat and pulling him down to lock eyes with him.

 

“Do I remember the conversation? Your little message for me? Why yes, Gavin, I remember in clear detail everything you said. Now tell me… why should I not tear your throat out here and now? After all, you’ve all but said you intend to kill the man to whom I’m indentured…” Hryn relaxed his grip enough to allow Gavin the air he needed to answer.

 

“Urk… I see that your strength has come back in full…” Hryn’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Gavin rolled his black eyes. “Fine, fine, no small talk...”

[Finnius]

Loryn had been traveling downwards for hours now, the sounds of the storm overhead muted but not silenced… even here, far underneath the stones of the bedrock on which Cold Port was built, she could hear the howling and the crashes of thunder. It was quite likely that anything still aboveground was dead by now…

 

Her eyes had long since slipped into the darksight, using the small heat which escaped from her own body to brighten the hallways for her. They were smooth, and if she hadn’t been able to see the small indentations, she would have thought this hall one long spiral.

 

At one of these indentations, about halfway to the chamber where the access key to the Court lay dormant and waiting, she turned and pressed her hand to the stone. A small section of wall slid open, revealing a large round chamber with four oblong shapes in its center… coffins. Moving over to the one in the lower right-hand corner, Loryn sat the books gently on the floor and shoved the top off of the sarcophagus.

 

The smell of rot and decay wafted up, and in the dimness she could make out a skeleton clutching a large leather sack. Inside would be torches, flint, and a small black stone. The torches would allow her to see more clearly, which was nice, but the stone was the real treasure… a temporary access which had been left behind for occasions such as this. Loghis had been exceedingly paranoid, and feared that someone would deny him control of his Court.

 

He had intended to use this stone to re-open the channels of power to himself. Luckily, Loryn had read his diaries long ago. The man was far too trusting of his minions. And now, his trust would allow her to escape Cold Port. She reached into the coffin, and unwrapped the bones from the sack, pulling it out in one swift movement.

 

Loryn unraveled the leather, lit a torch, and backed slowly out of the room, after picking up the books of Sospita and stuffing them into the sack. She held the stone in the palm of her left hand, closed her eyes, and prayed to holy Althis.

 

Her supplication was broken by a piercing, shattering scream from deep within the Court. Loryn’s head whipped downwards, and her legs reacted with the speed of thought, carrying her to the Chamber of Balphinus in no more time than it took to draw three deep breaths. The black orb sat on its altar, a slowly swirling cloud of red mist floating before it…

 

Loryn’s heart sank in her chest as the mist pulled itself together, coalesced into a man-sized form of hideous gore and exposed entrails. The form fell to its knees, writhing in pain as wet, new skin grew rapidly over its muscles, and soft, white hair pushed itself out of its scalp. The limp form rolled its head back and gave one last scream, staring forward at Loryn as two black orbs rolled down into its eye sockets.

 

The woman formerly known as Dessina ka’Marca Natros startled and jumped as the leather bag she’d been carrying hit the floor, thumping harshly to her ears, filling the chamber with an echo of thunder. A soft whisper escaped her lips, and the form raised its head slowly to look at her.

 

“Loghis…”

 

He stared at her for a long moment, and then spun to his feet, cracking his neck and nodding at Loryn.

 

“Yes, it’s me… I see you’re still alive, Dessina. Frankly, I’d been sure that Hryn had killed you when you didn’t return to me.” Loghis smiled and shrugged. “Actually, he nearly got the better of me… really must find out how he knew to go for the eyes…”

 

Loryn’s mouth worked open and closed and her head swung from side to side. Loghis raised an eyebrow.

 

“Tell me… did you at least kill your target?” Loryn nodded dumbly. The realization had just hit her… Loghis had told her to kill Hryn, but he’d only been a secondary target. The prime target was a boy in his care, whom she was supposed to kill and bring back to him for further training. Loghis must have known that the boy was an Althane… he’d set her up. Loghis grinned and winked at her.

 

“Good, then.” He jerked his head at the orb. “Come… plans are in motion, young heir of Natros, and you’ve more than earned the right to bear witness to their outcome.” Loryn took a step forward, then halted. She had to know, had to be sure.

 

“Wait… one thing before we go… the young man I killed… why?” Loghis closed his eyes and chuckled softly. The sound echoed off the walls, sending a chill down Loryn’s spine.

 

“The boy you took was Gavin Althane, in whom the bloodline of holy Althis found its peak. His is the most concentrated… the purest blood, the closest to our god.” Another soft laugh, another characteristic shrug. “Actually, he’s the entire reason that Fexus and I split ways… we had different ideas of what he was to be… you see, the writings of Saevus Sospita presage many things, young Dessina, among them, the coming of the Chosen of Machia. And also of his Herald… Fexus thought that the boy was the Chosen, and I thought he was the Herald.”

 

Loryn turned her head slightly.

 

“You still haven’t answered the question, sir… why did I kill him?” Loghis rolled his eyes and shrugged.

 

“Because I ordered you to… Dessina, you know better than to search for reasons. What’s brought this on?” A crash of thunder punctuated his words, rolling around the chamber. On its altar, the black orb formed a small point of blue light which expanded to fill the room with a soft glow. Loryn closed her eyes and stooped to pick up the leather sack containing the works of Sospita.

 

“He told me… he told me he saw a core of light in me. And then…” She brushed her hair back from her left cheek, showing Loghis the black handprint which had burned itself into her face. “Loghis, this boy is capable of things that you only dream of… he razed a building to the ground with no more than a thought. I need to know why you gave him that kind of power… did you even know what he would become?” Loghis nodded and dropped his grin, his face becoming somber as stone.

 

“I had my suspicions… trust me, Dessina; the child is everything the Council ever dreamed of. You did a good and noble thing in sending him to holy Althis. Now come with me… there is much to be done.”

 

Behind him, the orb swirled and flashed, a low hum filling the chamber. Loryn’s voice came soft and shallow.

 

“Where are we going?” The hum grew louder, and the sound of crashing stone echoed from the corridors.

 

“We go to the most sacred of places… the Tomb of Holy Althis.” Loghis turned and placed both hands on the sphere of black stone. There was a soft scraping sound, and then a pop as the orb released itself from the altar. Loghis turned back to Loryn and grinned mischievously. “Give me your cloak, by the way… I’d hate to arrive at the Tomb in my bare skin.”

 

-------------------

 

Gavin locked eyes with Hryn, daring his former master to try and crush his throat… Gavin was full of surprises now, and far more dangerous than Hryn at the moment. Hryn stared back, an unspoken promise in his eyes, that while he may not be able to physically kill Gavin, he could more than make him hurt. A crushed larynx was painfully crippling, even for the dead.

 

A moment passed slowly, the air between the two charged and tense. And then Hryn let go, dropping back onto the bed, and closing his eyes. A low chuckle escaped his lips, then a full-bellied laugh.

 

“You’ve grown brave, boy… I can respect that.” He glanced back up at Gavin, raising an eyebrow. “But seriously, what did Althis tell you… how much of the story do you know?”

 

Gavin stared down at Hryn darkly, considering.

 

“He told me… that you aren’t Mallon, that Mallon is dead, at least in spirit.” Hryn’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Go on…”

 

“Fexus did something to you, he… he… moved you into Mallon’s body, and told you that he put Mallon somewhere else. Natayu is definitely capable of such a feat, but Fexus didn’t do that… he just let Mallon die. That’s why you serve him… but there was something Althis couldn’t tell me… Hryn, who are you?” Hryn laid back and stared at the ceiling. A slow tear rolled down his cheek. When he spoke, it was softly and clearly.

 

“You’re wrong… and right. Mallon’s soul is dead, to all rights… but Fexus didn’t let him go. He holds the heir of the Hloran line in his hands to this very day, and never lets it go.” Hryn shook his head slowly. “As for who I am… let’s just accept that I am someone who would rather die than let that soul come to harm.”

 

Gavin nodded and lowered his eyes.

 

“Hryn… I need your help, here… Fexus will be integrated into Natayu’s control system very soon now… this storm of his has pushed its current mind very close to the edge. What he’s done… what he does even now… he has to be stopped. Can’t you see that?” Hryn’s eyes squeezed shut, forcing the few tears out, and reopened slowly.

 

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do, boy. If Fexus thinks I’ve turned on him… even for a moment… the consequences would be grave. Not just to Mallon’s soul, mind you, although that’s my largest fear…” Hryn shook his head, closing his eyes again. “No. No, I can’t help you…”

 

Gavin placed a hand on Hryn’s shoulder.

 

“I understand, really… but think of what would happen if Fexus came to full consciousness inside a construct that can raise mountains, form oceans, and shape flesh and soul alike. And that’s what happened to you… dear gods, I’m blind…” Gavin’s mind raced, darting to the answer in a burst of inspiration. “Natayu couldn’t have moved Mallon’s soul… that’s the province of Balphinus. But it could have split it… broken a piece off and stored it somewhere, while shaping the other half to whatever ends it wanted…” Hryn opened his eyes slowly and tiredly.

 

-------------------

 

Fexus stood on the cliffs of Hammer Keep, his spot above the Falls. The water stormed down, crashed onto the slabs of black granite with a thunder to rival the greatest storm in the world… surpassed only by the one which he maintained above Cold Port now. The city was almost done for, only a few buildings of stone remained.

 

At his side, Nanten the Tailor stood and nervously glanced over at his master. Fexus had been silent for nearly an hour, ever since Nanten had found him here at the request of the Fixers Machen and Kira. Nanten turned to go, to await Fexus in his study. The Lord of Hammerfall put a hand up, turning his head.

 

“Wait. Stay.” His voice was curt and troubled, and Nanten stopped cold. Fexus turned to face the tailor fully. “I have a job for you…”

 

Nanten listened to Fexus’ requests… placed as requests for the first time in Nanten’s long memory. And as he did, his eyes widened and a cold chill tingled across his body, raising the hair on his arms. When Fexus was done, Nanten knelt to the stone, pressed his fist against it in his formal salute.

 

“Your wish is my command, m’lord Fexus.” Although why the Lord of the Storm wanted all the magebane in Hammerfall, a full copy of the works of Saevus Sospita, and a talented blacksmith was beyond a simple tailor…

 

-------------------

 

Four days passed before Gavin and Hryn walked casually down the streets of Hammerfall, light rain falling from the sky. They were a matched set in black cloaks loaned from Robyn and his brother Kor… the two had gladly loaned the cloaks to get Hryn out of their home, on the condition that he not come back. Hryn glanced at Gavin nervously… the man had been jittery ever since hearing Gavin’s plan. He opened his mouth to speak and Gavin put up a hand.

 

“Yes, Hryn, I’m sure this will work… but it all hinges on you… get me into the Keep, get me to the Court, and I promise no harm will come to Mallon’s mind.” It was worse than talking to a child… the closer they got to Hammer Keep, the less confident Hryn became. The man who had been the scourge of the walking dead for two decades was shivering like a common barmaid in a room full of roughnecks.

 

“What if he finds us…” Gavin stopped and sighed heavily.

 

“If he finds us, we revert to the plan where you tell him you’ve brought me in… and then get to the Court yourself. All you have to do is touch Natayu’s access… should look similar to the one in Cold Port.” Gavin glanced sidelong at the man. “Tell me, Hryn… is Fexus really so intimidating?”

 

Hryn pulled his hood back, allowing the rain to slick his hair down.

 

“He is.” He put his head back, looking towards the sky, rain pouring into his eyes. Hryn never flinched, never blinked. “Fexus has taken more from me than you could possibly imagine. Gavin, there’s something you didn’t take into account earlier. Fexus was allied to Gerod Loghis for many years… and Loghis controls the Court at Cold Port… Balphinus. I’m not Mallon; I’m not some piece of his soul… at least not completely. It’s… complicated.”

 

Gavin glanced over at Hryn, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Then who are you?” Hryn lowered his head and pulled the hood up to cover his face once more, closing his eyes.

 

“I’m Hryn, no one else. Anyone I might’ve been is long dead now.” Hryn started forward, and Gavin shook his head and followed after. Hammer Keep loomed before them, a gray monolith of pure granite, imposing in the distance. It easily dwarfed any other structure in this city, and quite possibly any other in this world. Gavin certainly hadn’t heard of anything larger. His only comfort was that most of the bulk was solid stone… the Keep proper was large, but not so large as to be unwieldy.

 

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to open up.” Hryn glanced back at Gavin grinning widely.

 

“Actually, it well might. Now keep up boy, after all, this is your plan we’re about to die for.”

[Finnius]

Sunlight glinted through lush, thick leaves. Loryn stood in the clearing staring up at a bright blue sky. Near her stood Gerod Loghis, her cloak tied around his waist in a loose skirt of sorts… it was better than nakedness, but still looked a bit silly to Loryn’s eyes.

 

Under his left arm, he held a black orb the size of her head. It drank in the sunlight, refusing to glint or shimmer, appearing instead as a sphere of pure darkness. Loghis turned his head upwards to peer into the branches, then rolled his neck back to glance at Loryn.

 

“It’s strange, isn’t it? I’ve been trying to figure out how Hryn knew to go for my eyes… there’s really no way he’d have known that unless someone told him…” The dead man with the white hair turned to face Loryn, the sun throwing shadows across the pale, sculpted marble of his chest. “Tell me, Dessina… how did you manage to survive to come back to me? Not many of my agents have ever done that, and most of those were little more than babbling shells by the time I found them. Actually, I don’t think any have ever come back of their own accord…”

 

The sound of her real name made Loryn shudder inside… it sounded so alien to her. Couldn’t he see? Was Loghis truly so blind? She wasn’t Dessina ka’Marca Natros anymore… could never be again, no matter how much she wanted to. Loryn squeezed her eyes shut, then reopened them and answered.

 

“The Althane boy… Gavin. After I killed him and brought him back, Hryn forced me to stay on; to teach the boy, or so he said.” Loryn instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, despite the warm and cheery sun overhead. “I escaped during the storm…”

 

Loghis’ eyes narrowed dangerously. He considered Loryn for a bit, then shook his head and started off into the sea of trees. Loryn followed behind, at a measured and safe distance.

 

-------------------

 

The ringing anvil-tones were unpleasant to Nanten’s ear, but Fexus had insisted the tailor stay for the birth of this… thing. Fexus had poured over the books of Sospita for nearly two days, while Nanten gathered magebane. He’d found and conscripted one Whittikar Solin, a noted and renowned blacksmith, to forge for him a hammer of very specific description… as for the why, Fexus was as close-mouthed as ever.

 

It had taken shape over the last day and a half, and was just getting its finishing touches now… it was large, and would require two hands to swing effectively, even for Nanten. The handle undulated where hands would grip, and would be wrapped in thick leather when it was done, but for now it was just a long piece of wrought iron.

 

The head was wide and heavy, one face smooth and the other pointed. It looked like a huge wedge, or cone. It was worked along the sides with the lion and snake which were Fexus’ personal coat of arms. The top was a bit strange, though… Fexus had asked that several small notches be bored into it, and that caps be placed over these. Finger-deep, and just a bit wider around, Nanten could see no practical use for these.

 

Fexus had been acting strangely for the last few days, and it worried Nanten. The Lord of Hammerfall had been seen mumbling to himself as he wandered through the halls of his Keep, snapping at servants and generally scaring the kitchen staff witless.

 

He’d visited the kitchens several times in the past days. He’d dismiss the staff, and no one knew what he did while he was in there… no one except for Nanten, that was. The Tailor knew every hidden passage in Hammer Keep, and had been keeping a close eye on his master ever since he was called back to duty.

 

Fexus would stand, sometimes for hours on end, and watch the pantries where, so Nanten was to understand, a dead man with black powder in his mouth had popped up one morning. He’d just stand there… his mouth hanging halfway open and his fists clenching and relaxing at his sides. Fexus was a formidable fighter; he’d trained the first of his Fixers himself, Nanten among them.

 

The ringing of the anvil stopped, snapping the Tailor back to the current moment. Fexus stood across the room, his arms crossed across his chest, and watched Solin give the hammer its final touches… his own mark, small and nearly unnoticeable on the underside of the head. Solin hefted the weapon, testing its weight and balance, and finally decided it was good enough to suit the Lord of Storms. The blacksmith knelt and presented his creation to Fexus.

 

-------------------

 

A small rodent scurried across Hryn’s foot, scared out of its hole by his passage. Water swirled around his ankles, and would have soaked his feet in unsavory substances had he not been wearing calf-high boots. Behind him, Gavin followed silently. The boy had a better hand for stealth than Hryn, had even before he’d died…

 

The boy had come dangerously close to figuring out Hryn’s secret… his identity. His words echoed madly through Hryn’s head, half-true but so false… Hryn could almost remember Mallon’s face, Mallon’s voice, Mallon’s laugh. But it was all smoke rising through fog, drifting slowly to choke Hryn. And so he resigned himself to this mad plan, this storming of Hammer Keep.

 

It had merit, and would have even been a good idea if the boy had been right… but Hryn was not Mallon. Hryn was not even a Hloran, not in the true sense. But, he mused, he did have Mallon’s blood in his veins. And if this Natayu recognized that, and couldn’t tell the distinction…

 

It had certainly worked with the other Court. But then, that one had had direct orders from Gavin to give Hryn access.

 

“Are you sure this is the right way, Hryn?” Gavin’s voice was little more than a whisper, but Hryn’s head whipped back at the sound of it. Gavin glanced around at the series of tunnels which spiderwebbed underneath the city, his head moving to and fro with an almost frantic sense of loss and bewilderment. The tunnels of Hammerfall had that effect on those who did not know their layout…

 

To all but a few select people, this labyrinth would be an insurmountable puzzle. Luckily, Hryn was one of those few select people… he knew the city of Hammerfall inside and out, had known it since before Fexus took him. Every so often, those glimmers of his past rose to the surface and bubbled through. Occasionally, they were even useful.

 

“Yes, boy, I’m sure… show a little faith in your old teacher.” Hryn motioned for the boy to keep up, and started down one of the tunnels to their left. They were close, now… the outer walls of the Keep would be directly above them, now. Soon the tunnels would fan out and slope upwards, into ladders and stairwells too numerous to count. Most of those would lead to blank walls, or worse.

 

There was a sound of splashing water behind Gavin, and the boy turned. A low breathy growl echoed down the corridors and the boy pulled his cloak tighter around himself, then ducked into the side-path and followed Hryn. He moved close behind the older man and whispered softly.

 

“Did you hear that, Hryn? What was that?” Hryn’s head swiveled back to grin at Gavin.

 

“I told you already, boy… these tunnels are tightly patrolled. That was one of the patrollers. Most likely something Fexus had commissioned recently… I don’t remember him using anything that would make a sound like that in the past.”

 

Gavin glanced back, and then followed Hryn farther into the bowels of Hammerfall.

 

-------------------

 

The doors flung open, stirring up ages-old dust and releasing an exhalation of stagnant air. The dust fled outwards and coated Loryn’s legs. It refused to touch the skin of the white haired man in front of her, swirling around him in small twisters of grit. A mere breath later, Gerod Loghis strode into the Tomb of Holy Althis, a sparse square of stone.

 

Four gray walls surrounded a long sarcophagus; the lid had been pushed off long ago and lay shattered on the floor. Within lay the skeleton of a man. Were he alive, he would have been quite tall, and broad of shoulder. A surprising amount of hair still clung to the scalp, hanging past the corpse’s waist, and bleached of all color… or perhaps it had been white in life.

 

Loghis stopped and stared down at the bones, the ribcage was bowed inward and cracked just above the cavity where the heart would be. It was a common story among the dead that Althis’ heart had been torn from his corpse and consumed by Natali Grass-eater, a chieftain of the peoples who had once inhabited this forest… a people long ago scattered to the wind.

 

“Beautiful… even once these bones are turned to dust, his presence will linger here for an eternity…” The reverence and quiet awe in Loghis’ voice came as somewhat of a surprise to Loryn; as did his bending down to lightly kiss the brow of the skull. He then turned to her and gave his characteristic shrug. “Come. What we need lies below.”

 

Loghis gingerly reached down through the gaping hole in the skeleton’s chest, and pressed a small indentation in the stone. The sarcophagus slid to the side, revealing a long, straight stairway which led out of sight, and into darkness.

 

-------------------

 

“I’m telling you, Hryn, we’re being followed!” Gavin’s voice was a harsh whisper, and he continually looked over his shoulder. Every so often, he caught a glimpse of a large shadow darting off to the side.

 

“I know.” Hryn pulled his cloak tighter around himself, covering his mouth and nose. “By the way, the air gets a bit… acidic farther down. If you value your lungs, you might want to hold your breath.”

 

Gavin shook his head and pulled his collar around his lower face. Hryn gave a small chuckle and winked back at Gavin.

 

“Don’t worry, boy, it’s most likely just watching and reporting… I’d bet the city coffers that Fexus already knows we’re here.” Gavin’s eyes narrowed into a scowl.

 

“And that’s supposed to not make me worry?” Hryn’s eyes tightened into a wide smile.

 

“Of course it is! Means that either he wants to kill us himself, or that he has plans for one or both of us. Now hurry up before he gets impatient and calls the rest of the patrollers on us.” Hryn turned and continued down the tunnel, water swirling around his feet with surprisingly little noise.

 

“Have I ever mentioned that you’re insane? Completely and totally insane.” Hryn just shrugged and motioned for Gavin to keep up.

[Finnius]

“What do you think it would be like to be dead? Would you even know that you were, or would you go on about your daily business, a wraith with no perception of time and place? How long would it take for the blood in your veins to become a burden instead of a blessing?

 

“What if you could turn back the clock? What would you give, how much would you sacrifice for one more chance? One last turn of the card… this, then is the dilemma. If that card should once again turn against you, could you accept the fate you were given?”

 

Fexus turned to face Nanten, the Falls silhouetting him in a sudden spray of mist.

 

“Time grows short, my faithful servant… one of my own turns against me, as so many others have. Hryn comes to me with blood on his mind. He is resigned to death, he does not fear it, and this is his strength. When we two meet, he will not stop until one of us has fallen.

 

“Thus do I charge you, Nanten the Tailor… be my hammer, my strong right arm. I have prepared a weapon for you with no equal in this world; I have bathed it in the blood of the gods.” Fexus turned the great war-hammer which he had commissioned upwards, drew a vial of magebane from within his cloak, and poured it into one of the holes bored into the head.

 

“Have no doubt, Nanten… Hryn will kill me. He knows my every movement as if they were his own, as well he should.” Nanten’s head started to swing to the side, his mouth started to open, and Fexus’ eyes narrowed dangerously. He cut Nanten short with a small gesture of his hand. “I know of what I speak, tailor. There is more to Hryn than even he knows, more than can be explained in words… the things I’ve done to that man can never be forgiven.

 

“All I ask of you is that you carry this to the Court chamber, and meet Hryn there. You’ll know what to do…” Fexus offered the hammer to Nanten, and the tailor knelt to one knee, accepting it. As he went to stand, the Lord of Hammerfall placed a hand on his head, forcing the man back down. A surge of pain swept through Nanten’s body, heat like none he’d ever felt before. His eyes felt like they should be popping and sizzling in his skull. And then it was gone, as quickly as it had started, and Fexus took a step back and cocked his head.

 

“Now go… you may stand a chance yet, tailor. But be quick about it, that won’t last long.” Nanten swept to his feet and nodded once to Fexus before making his way into the bowels of Hammer Keep.

 

-------------------

 

The stairs led downwards steadily, pitching forward slightly more than was comfortable, almost like they wanted you to lose your balance and fall down them. Whether this was because they wished Loryn harm, or because they were simply eager to have her at their destination…

 

Loryn herself felt like whatever lay below was hungry. A monstrous child tipping its bowl into its gaping maw, eager to be fed… it sent shivers down her spine and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. Loghis, on the other hand, was trailing his fingers along the wall as if he were caressing a lover’s cheek.

 

“How much farther does it go?” Loryn’s hushed whisper echoed and bounced off the stones, until it sounded like an insistent scream, and Loghis turned to glance at her with mild annoyance.

 

“We’re almost there. Do try and keep your voice low, Dessina?” The walls refused to toy with Loghis’ voice the way they had with Loryn’s. She could almost hear them tittering behind her back. Loryn would be glad when they were off the stairs.

 

After several moments, a low throbbing hum began drifting up the stairwell. It rose and fell in pitch, and a bit farther down, Loryn could make out distinct separations in the sounds… words. No words she could understand, but words all the same. Somewhere below, a group of people was chanting.

 

The tunnel panned out suddenly, forcing Loryn to stumble into Loghis’ back as her foot came down on a step that was not there. They had reached the bottom, and as Loryn’s eyes adjusted, a faint glimmer swept the room. Around them sprang up the forms of men and women, black-robed and hooded. Their mouths moved in time with the chanting, and Loryn was surprised to realize that she could just barely see through them.

 

Loghis bowed his head lowly to one of the specters, and crossed his arms over his chest. As one, the mass of ghosts bowed to him, and pulled their hoods back to reveal a crowd of cold black eyes staring back at them. Loryn’s heart skipped in her chest as those eyes turned on her.

 

Loghis put a hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with the ghost to whom he’d bowed. Loryn could make out its face now, a woman in her late years, wrinkles lined her brow and the corners of her mouth were drawn up into a perpetual smile. Somehow this was disconcerting instead of comforting, as that smile never touched her eyes.

 

Loryn wanted nothing more than to back away from this room, to tear up the stairs and into the forest… the grim forms which surrounded her were still watching her warily. Some of them were staring at her with a considering look in their eyes, and a hungry smile on their lips. Loghis removed his hand from Loryn’s shoulder and one of the ghosts darted forward, eyes blazing and hands extended.

 

Loryn let out a sharp scream, falling to her knees as the wraith passed through her. For a moment, she felt as if someone had impaled her with an icicle, and then her lungs exploded with pain. Loryn could feel them collapsing in on themselves, forcing a gasp of white breath up her throat and out her mouth.

 

Somewhere, someone was yelling… she realized dully that it was Loghis. Something about the wraiths breaking their vows, disrespecting their masters. After several heart-stopping moments, a reply came; a voice like thunder echoing from the walls themselves.

 

“You may be our master, Gerod Loghis, but the woman holds no claims on us. She is forfeit.”

 

“She is under my protection! I command you to release her!” Loryn’s sight blurred and she fell to her side. Loghis’ feet paraded in front of her face, the bare skin slapping harshly on the dusty floor. A rumble of white noise rolled through the chamber. Loryn thought it sounded like laughter… harsh, malevolent laughter.

 

“You command it? Then let it be done, Gerod Loghis…” Loryn’s lungs burned brightly for a moment, and then the pain receded. Her vision sharpened, and she could see the wraiths take a step back from Loghis, pulling up their hoods to cover their black eyes. As suddenly as they’d come, they were gone, fading into the blackness and leaving only a faint glow behind.

 

“What…” Loryn got out all of one word before she had to suck in air, coughing and sputtering as her lungs reinflated themselves. “What was that?” Loghis knelt to help her to her feet, taking one of her arms gingerly and putting it around his neck.

 

“The keepers of the tomb, Dessina… the spirits of those Chosen of Althis who have met their demises. They are the ghosts of ghosts, and always they hunger for life and warmth… none are safe here save those who bear the mark of Balphinus.” Loryn shivered and ran her hands through her hair as she regained her balance. Loghis turned towards the center of the chamber shaking his head. “They haven’t been fed in decades, either… I really should drag someone down here for them. They’re getting disobedient.”

 

-------------------

 

“Now which one was it?” Hryn stood in front of seven ladders, each leading up into darkness. His arms were crossed lightly across his chest, and he tapped his fingers against his shoulders. “Fexus was always fond of number riddles, and he liked to change which ladder was correct based on the day of the week… hmm…”

 

Gavin stood behind him facing down the tunnel, where he could barely make out a large form standing and staring at him. He’d been locking eyes with the hulking brute ever since Hryn stopped and pulled a section of wall aside to reveal the ladders. Hryn occasionally glanced at Gavin and shook his head as if he was laughing on the inside.

 

The thing took a step forward. It had a shuffling, limping sort of walk, like it wasn’t quite sure what to do on two legs. Gavin had long since given up hoping that it was human. At least with a human, he’d know what to attack… but aside from that, he couldn’t make out anything about the creature. It was as if his eyes refused to stay on it.

 

“Maybe number four? That would make sense, assuming it isn’t past midnight… Gavin, have you been keeping track of the time, by any chance?” Hryn glanced back at Gavin and raised an eyebrow. Gavin replied blankly, staring forward without blinking.

 

“It’s past midnight.”

 

“How far past?”

 

“About an hour… why?” Hryn nodded to Gavin’s back and scratched his chin absently.

 

“Two, then. C’mon, boy, we’re going up.” Gavin nodded nervously and stepped backwards, looking over his shoulder. Hryn was already on the second ladder from the left, hauling himself up hand-over-hand. A sound of rushing water and a rancid breeze hit Gavin in the face, but when he whipped his head around to look back down the tunnel, the creature was gone. Hryn’s voice boomed down from above.

 

“You coming, boy, or are we going back to your little friends’ house?” Gavin cursed under his breath and pulled himself onto the ladder.

 

“How can you be so flippant, Hryn? Wasn’t so long ago that you were halfway chewing your fingernails off for fear of Fexus… I don’t get it.” A low chuckle floated down the shaft.

 

“Who says I’m not afraid, boy? Really, how do you know I’m not just planning to turn you over to Fexus once we’re inside the Keep?” Gavin paused on the ladder, cocking his head to one side.

 

“I don’t, actually… but I trust that you’ll do what you need to do. If you’re comfortable being Fexus’ slave and whipping boy for the rest of your life, then so be it.” Gavin continued up the ladder, pacing himself for the long ascent.

 

“Comfort has nothing to do with it. Tell me, boy… what was it like when you died?”

 

“Cold, at first. I didn’t even register that I was dead for a few minutes, couldn’t feel anything… and then there was heat, and wind, like I was standing in the middle of the desert during a sandstorm. After that it gets kind of fuzzy.”

 

“Fuzzy?”

 

“I remember falling for a long time, and then a stone city, like this one… only it was different. There were… spires? The buildings were pointed, I remember that much. And then there’s nothing until Althis.”

 

“What’s he like, Gavin?”

 

“He’s old… and he’s in pain. He holds the worlds together, and he’s just tired. He can’t stop, you know. When he bridged that gap, he became the gap. Althis is less human than whatever was stalking us through those tunnels, and he knows it. He wants to die, Hryn, and he can’t…”

 

There was silence for a while, as the two climbed higher into the Keep, and then a soft whisper echoed down the shaft, inaudible if it weren’t for Gavin’s heightened hearing.

 

“I know how he feels.”

[Finnius]

“A dark and terrible fate, to be one of the dead. Can’t imagine how you cope with it, boy.” Gavin and Hryn walked slowly down the corridors of Hammer Keep, drawing closer to the Chamber of the Court. The corridors were quiet and empty, although a thin tingle tinged the air, raising the hair on the back of Gavin’s arms.

 

“Actually, it’s not so different from being alive. A little colder, and a bit of a shift in perspective, but otherwise about the same…” Hryn glanced over his shoulder at Gavin, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“Shifted how, exactly?” Gavin shrugged noncommittally.

 

“Well, let’s say that I were to get into a fight… when I was still alive, I’d have to watch out for things like, say, a broken nose or arm, or getting stabbed somewhere important. Now all I have to worry about is my heart and head.”

 

“Don’t forget your eyes, boy.”

 

Hryn stopped and turned to face a set of large stone double-doors, one engraved with a lion and the other with a snake. They ran all the way to the ceiling, fitting tightly against the surrounding walls. Gavin glanced over at him and saw a flash of uncertainty cross his face; a twitch in the corner of his eye, a slight turning down of his mouth.

 

“Well. So here we are, boy…” Hryn’s eyes closed then opened. The traces of mirth he’d been wearing for most of the trip were gone, replaced by a steel-cold sheen of determination. He moved forward and placed a hand on the door engraved with the lion. He nodded over to Gavin, who pressed a hand to the snake.

 

The doors slowly swung open.

 

-------------------

 

A sliver of light widened into a bright corridor of luminescence, silhouetting two figures. The one on the right was slightly taller than the one on the left, and just a bit wider. Nanten focused on that one… that would be Hryn.

 

The two walked into the room, pausing just inside the doors, which started to close as soon as their hands left the stone. Nanten stood before them, directly in front of the flashing diamond orb. The doors sealed shut with a soft click, and Nanten hefted the large hammer on which he was leaning onto his shoulder and popped his neck.

 

“Evening, Fixer Hryn.” Nanten nodded politely to the man on the right, who neither recognized nor returned the gesture.

 

“Nanten the Tailor, what a surprise to find you here.” Hryn glanced disparagingly at the hammer, and let out a small chuff of laughter. “Or should I say Nanten the Blacksmith?”

 

The boy on Hryn’s right crossed his arms lightly around his stomach and cracked his jaw into a yawn. Nanten kept him in his peripheral vision, watching Hryn warily.

 

“Fexus has informed me that you consort with the Dead Council, and that you plot to overthrow him. How do you plead?”

 

“Innocent and guilty, respectively.” Nanten jerked his head towards the black-eyed boy on Hryn’s right.

 

“Then how do you explain him?”

 

“Gavin may be dead, but he is in no way connected to the Council.” Nanten shrugged.

 

“Fair enough, but you’ve still admitted to attempting a coup.”

 

“That I have. And what do you intend to do about it?” Nanten’s mouth stretched into an uncontrolled smirk.

 

“Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?” Hryn shrugged and rolled his eyes, spreading his hands apologetically.

 

“I just figured I’d give you a chance to step down and go on with your life.”

 

Nanten chuckled and swung the hammer down to rest easily in both of his hands. A crack of thunder echoed through the room, and Hryn’s body flew backwards into the door, rebounding off it and landing on the floor with a dull thud. Nanten stood over him, the hammer crackling with tiny lances of light.

 

“I take no joy in this, Fixer Hryn. But as our master commands, so must I obey.” Nanten raised the hammer again just as Hryn placed a hand on the floor and raised his head. The hammer swung into Hryn’s side, flinging him into the far wall with a sound of snapping bones.

 

Hryn rolled down the wall and coughed heavily, teeth mingled with blood, clicking to rest on the stone floor. He raised his head and smiled over at the black-eyed boy. Hryn’s voice came ragged and half-choked.

 

“If you intend to do anything, now’s the time…”

 

The boy shrugged and rolled his shoulders.

 

“Do you really want my help, Hryn?”

 

A sputtering cough of laughter, and Hryn pushed himself to one knee shakily.

 

“Now that you mention it, no.” Nanten advanced slowly, readying the hammer for another swing. Hryn wobbled to his feet just as the tailor wheeled back and whirled the hammer upwards towards his sternum. Hryn caught the haft just below the head, feeling the force behind the blow grind the bones of his wrist together as it lifted him just off the ground.

 

Nanten’s eyes narrowed and he slung the hammer upwards, swinging Hryn with it. The Fixer flew over his shoulder, slamming into the ground beneath the momentum of the blow. Blood flecked his lips and he coughed harshly.

 

“This is the thanks I get for dragging your sorry hide back to health…” Hryn worked his fingers between the head of the hammer and his chest, forcing it upwards enough to slip away. Nanten swung the hammer downwards again, leaving a tiny web of cracks in the granite as Hryn rolled aside and swept to his feet.

 

The tailor turned, bringing the hammer into a horizontal wave which Hryn weaved around. The hammer spun back, reversed to catch Hryn’s collarbone, and the Fixer slid up and under the arch of the attack, coming face to face with Nanten.

 

“You’re getting old, tailor, and predictable…” Hryn rammed his forehead into Nanten’s nose, feeling as much as hearing the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. The older man’s head rocked back and then darted forward to catch Hryn where his hair met his brow, spilling more of the Fixer’s blood onto the cold granite floor.

 

Again Nanten’s head lurched forward, slamming into Hryn’s eye socket. Hryn stumbled slightly, and the tailor threw an elbow into his face, snapping his neck back. Hryn fell to the ground, eyes glazing over as Nanten raised the hammer for the final blow.

 

-------------------

 

There was a weight about to fall, a weight that would crush Hryn. And still Gavin stood, watching with a cold detached clarity. Hryn’s mind fuzzed, his sight dimmed. The weight began its downward descent. Hryn’s body ached, felt the strain of torn cartilage and broken bone.

 

Nanten had had broken bones, not so long ago… several in his hand, his left arm, his ankles.

 

Hryn’s body rolled to the side, its leg whipping out to intersect the tailor’s left knee. His body rolled forward, felt a popping as his shoulder forced itself back into place against the stone floor as he passed, and shot his foot out into Nanten’s calf, the toe pointed sharply, driving into the soft muscle.

 

The tailor dropped to one knee.

 

Hryn’s body wheeled upright, seizing the chance to survive. He spun around, planting his hand in the back of Nanten’s hair and forcing the larger man’s head forward into the stone floor. Hryn neither slowed nor stopped, bringing a knee down with almost blinding speed on the tailor’s shoulder. Gavin winced at the sharp snap as the shoulder blade cracked.

 

Still Hryn moved, rolling forward on the shattered bone into a low stand, from which his foot shot out into Nanten’s wrist. The tailor howled as his hand bent at a right angle to his forearm, and his grip on the hammer released as he retook his feet.

 

The two stood staring at each other for a moment, breathing heavily and coated in their own blood. Hryn broke the silence first, his voice thick and heavy.

 

“Give… up… and you… might… live.” Nanten’s eyes darted to the hammer lying on the floor, and then back to Hryn standing defiant.

 

The tailor darted down and to the side, his broken hand grasping feebly at the haft of the great hammer. Hryn was on him before he could make purchase, the fingertips of his left hand jamming into Nanten’s throat and cutting off his air supply, then darting into his side just under the ribs. Hryn’s right hand formed into a fist and planted itself in the tailor’s abdomen, deflating his diaphragm.

 

Nanten gasped and clutched at his throat, writhing and flopping on the floor like a fish just pulled into the boat. Hryn slowly stood up, turning to face Gavin with cold, burning eyes. Blood coated his face and his brow pulled down slightly where Nanten had head butted him. Several of his teeth were cracked, and one was completely missing.

 

Gavin nodded and motioned to the flashing diamond sphere on its pedestal. Hryn wobbled forward, lurching towards the orb. Gavin heard a wet chuckle as Hryn’s bloody hand slapped onto the orb.

 

“If this doesn’t work, boy, you’re next…”

 

The chamber exploded with white light mottled with refracted crimson.

[Finnius]

“Fall back from the light of day, oh spirit most ancient. Empower your servant to act in your name, and fear not for the coming storms. We shall meet them head-on and bare our faces to the wind; though it tears the flesh from our faces, we shall not stand down.

 

“This we, your Chosen few, do ask of you most Holy Althis. Grant us the strength to oppose those who would seek to supplant your flawless designs.” Loghis knelt before an altar of smooth white stone, the orb of Balphinus cradled in his hands. Carved along one side, an owl and raven sat perched back to back peacefully, while on the other side they were locked in fierce combat.

 

“Show us your divine mercy, oh spirit most ancient. Command the very blood in our veins as you will, send us to our deaths if it suits your needs. We only ask that we may spend ourselves in your glorious cause, your foes’ blood on our hands.

 

“This we, your Chosen few, do beg of you most Holy Althis. Grant us the vision to complete your perfect works…” With this, Loghis raised the orb onto the altar, setting it into place lightly. The sphere issued a low hum, and a cold blue light shone from it, illuminating the underground chamber.

 

The carvings on the wall were different from the ones in Cold Port; scenes of peaceful, desolated mountains flanked either side, with the curve opposite the doorway taken up by an intricately detailed relief of a man presiding over a kneeling mass of people…

 

The man was distinguished and well dressed, and the lines of his face showed compassion and determination. His eyes, though, were hard and callous, not mention jet-black. But one thing stood out more than any other… from this man’s back sprouted large shadowy wings, which circled around the mass of people, at once protecting and trapping them. Loghis sighed heavily, stood, and turned to face Loryn, who stood just inside the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

 

“Come closer… tell me, Dessina, what do you see?” Loghis nodded towards the center wall.

 

“I see a man with wings.” Loryn glanced over at the white-haired man, still wrapped below the waist in her cloak. He nodded.

 

“In its barest sense, yes… the wall shows a winged man.” Loghis turned his black eyes to lock with Loryn’s. “The last time I was here, it showed me a man in robes falling from the top of Hammer Keep… I took that to mean the death, or at least the fall from power, of Fexus.” Loghis turned his eyes to the mural. “So why does it now show me the same man with the black eyes of Althis’ Chosen?”

 

-------------------

 

The webs of Balphinus trembled in the back of Gavin’s head, humming with the residual glow of Natayu’s forced access. When the light which had burst from the diamond sphere faded, Hryn stood stunned and breathless. His wounds had all but closed, and while he was still missing one of his canines, the ribs which had been obviously broken were now straight as new.

 

Gavin grinned at his former master and cocked his head to one side.

 

“I take it that you were successful?” Hryn nodded dumbly.

 

“Yes… and I can feel it in the back of my mind, like a caged lion…” Hryn’s eyes cleared and swept up to Gavin’s. “It’s… very different from Balphinus.”

 

“I would imagine so. But here’s the question… what do you want to do now?”

 

For a moment Hryn stood still, lowering his head to look into his hands. His eyes darted side to side, focusing only briefly in the center. Behind him, the orb of diamond flickered weakly, pleadingly. Hryn turned his head to gaze into its swirling depths, then glanced back over his shoulder at Gavin.

 

“There’s a choice?”

 

“There always was… you just couldn’t let yourself see it. Hryn, my only real agenda for you was to give Natayu another choice when it goes out, and trust me; it will. For myself, I intend to meet Fexus head-on. I will take him down, one way or another. You can come if you want, you can stay here or go back to the city… if you really want to, you can fight against me. But that’s your choice to make, Hryn.

 

“And that’s the difference between us: choice. Fexus never gave you one, you never gave me one… but I’m giving you one. Your life is yours now. Do with it what you will.” And with that, Gavin turned and walked away, leaving Hryn standing alone.

 

-------------------

 

Hryn stood alone and silent, staring at the doors as they clicked shut behind Gavin. The orb behind him threw flickering shadows against the stone, accentuating the stark silence that permeated the room.

 

Hryn turned to face the flickering diamond sphere, letting his eyes slip down to the floor and the now-still form of Nanten the Tailor, who had died trying to protect it. Nanten had not been a bad man; he’d just worked for one… much like Hryn. Natayu paced in the back of Hryn’s head, thrashing proudly.

 

Hryn could feel its senses supplementing his own, could feel its passions welling up in him. The thing was, as Gavin had said, far less human than Balphinus had been. Balphinus had been cold, calculating, and deeply intellectual. Natayu was hot, frantic, and fiercely independent. A voice like thunder whispered in Hryn’s ear.

 

Go to him… Fight.

 

“Why?”

 

You hate Fexus… I hate Fexus… If you do not help the Althane boy, Fexus will kill him.

 

“I don’t care. I told him this plan of his would bring nothing but death.”

 

You lie… You care…

 

“I do not!”

 

Lie to yourself, then… But I know the truth…

 

“Your truth, maybe. What do you know about me? What can a soulless machine understand?”

 

Which of us is the machine?

 

Hryn opened his mouth to respond, and to his deep annoyance, Natayu cut him off.

 

Kill Fexus.

 

The words rolled around the room, growing louder with each passing. A wind stirred around Hryn’s feet, whipping the remains of his cloak around his ankles. The voice of Natayu boomed in Hryn’s bones, creating a hollow thrumming in his chest.

 

Do it!

 

Tiny bits of sand and grit floated upwards off the floor, stinging Hryn’s face and forcing his hands up to protect his eyes. The wind pulled at his hair, clawed at his face and hands, tried to force him to his knees. Hryn’s eyes traveled once more to the form of Nanten the Tailor, dead and flopping about in the unnatural storm, and then slid to his right, where the great hammer he’d wielded had fallen.

 

The orb flared brightly and the wind intensified. Hryn knelt slowly, and wrapped a hand around the shaft of Nanten’s weapon. No… it hadn’t been a weapon, Hryn mused. This was a tool, and not one that had been meant for Nanten. Whether or not Fexus realized it, he’d given Hryn exactly what he needed.

 

The voice of Natayu was howling wordlessly now, tossing the tailor’s body against the stone doors again and again. Hryn lifted the hammer and slowly turned to face the orb.

 

“Quiet down, now, before you make me do something rash.”

 

There was a calm, dead silence in Natayu’s raging, and then the orb flashed once more.

 

Do what?

 

Hryn hefted the hammer over his shoulder, cocked his head, and grinned his new gap-toothed grin.

 

“Quiet down and you won’t have to find out.”

 

Are you going to kill Fexus?

 

“I haven’t decided yet, and your caterwauling certainly isn’t helping me think.”

 

Hryn waited a moment, to see if the infernal machine was going to start up again and when it became apparent that Natayu was, for the moment, cowed, he relaxed his grip on the hammer.

 

“No, no I don’t think I am.” A dangerous growl tickled its way across the back of Hryn’s mind, and the beginnings of a breeze caressed his cheek.

 

Why not?

 

“Fexus, lying, manipulating, murderous dog though he may be, has something that I need. More to the point, he knows something that I need to know. So I’m not going to kill him, at least until I get what I want out of him.”

 

And what is that?

 

“Everything he took from me.”

 

And with that, Hryn abruptly swung the great hammer in a horizontal arch, straight for the flickering orb that housed Natayu’s access key. The hammer came to within a hair’s width of the diamond sphere, then stopped, repelled by a crackling red light.

 

The orb flared brightly, and Natayu’s voice echoed like thunder once more.

 

What are you doing?!

 

“Giving myself insurance. Gavin told me that you control energy, correct?”

 

Correct…

 

“That would include kinetic energy, correct?”

 

Yes…

 

“And I should be able to tap your full potential, assuming I understand it, right?”

 

Again, you speak true…

 

“Then let’s find out just how strong you are…”

 

Hryn forced the hammer forward, willing the orb’s power into his arms, into the haft of the hammer, into this one swing, this one blow. The red light crackled and sparked, the head of the hammer wavered, and then the light broke, crimson sparks rebounding off the ground and dissipating.

 

The hammer hung silently in the air as Hryn removed his hands from the haft.

 

“You know how much force lies within a breath of smashing you. I can feel your fear in the back of my head, clawing and scrambling. I make you one promise: Do as I command, exactly as I command, and no harm will come to you.”

 

I… would have anyway…

 

Hryn smiled again, his missing canine giving an eerie cast to the mirthful gesture.

 

“We’ll see. Remember our bargain well, machine, and remember this… what is broken can be made whole, provided there’s a will to do it. And broken again.”

 

Hryn turned his back on the flashing orb and walked to the door, giving no backward glance as he swung them open.

[Finnius]

The stone doors shut behind Hryn with an echoing boom, the former Fixer taking a quick step down the hall before stopping and turning his eyes back to the slouching form of Gavin Althane, arms crossed across his chest and leaning against the wall.

 

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get finished in there.” The younger man’s jaws cracked in a wide yawn, and he stretched his arms over his head. “Nicely done, by the way.”

 

Hryn paused, his brows furrowing together.

 

“I thought you were going off to rampage through Hammer Keep and kill Fexus.”

 

“Of course you did. Because that’s just what he’s expecting me to do; and you still think that I can’t see through his plans.”

 

“Because you can’t, boy.” Gavin pushed himself off from the wall, his heels clicking on the stone as he started down the hallway.

 

“If you say so, oh Mighty Hryn. In any case, are you coming along or not?” Hryn sighed and followed after Gavin, quickly catching up to him and glancing over as they walked.

 

“You said ‘Nicely done.’ You were watching me?” Gavin tapped his temples, grinning.

 

“Of course I was. We’re both tied into Balphinus… I can see everything you see, hear every word you say… I just can’t hear what’s being said to you. But I gather you sufficiently cowed Natayu?”

 

“Wait… how long have you been spying on me?”

 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it spying, Hryn… more like eavesdropping.”

 

“I fail to see the difference.”

 

“Oh, don’t get sullen, now… after all, we still have Fexus to deal with before we can start bickering with each other.”

 

“Fine.”

 

The two walked through the eerily silent halls without speaking; the only sounds the soft susurrus of their breathing. Upwards they walked, through empty halls and abandoned studies. As they rounded a corner halfway up the Keep, and approached the door which bled into the kitchens, a wretched stench enveloped them, a smell like burning wood and sulfur. Hryn’s eyes narrowed and he pulled his shirt up over his nose, enclosing the lower half of his face in cloth and motioning for Gavin to do the same.

 

Hryn crept out a hand to push the wooden doors open, peering into the dark mass of confusion… the kitchens had been half-destroyed at some point, and Fexus had not seen fit to rebuild them, although it looked as if someone had made a few futile attempts to clean up the remains which lay strewn over tables or scattered about the floor in pieces.

 

Gavin’s black eyes glanced over to Hryn, disgust painted across his face. From deep within the kitchens, a scrabbling noise coupled with a shallow sobbing wail emanated. Hryn’s eyes narrowed further, becoming no more than slits, and he whispered lowly towards Gavin.

 

“Keep your head about you, boy… no telling what manner of creature would live among corpses.”

 

Gavin cocked an eyebrow and whispered back.

 

“Is that an insult?”

 

“Just stay alert… like it or not, we have to go through here.”

 

Hryn slipped inside the doorway, inching his way along the wall with Gavin following along at his side. Gradually, the wavering wail grew into choked, incoherent words. And that was when Hryn saw her… one of the kitchen maids, crouched among the corpses, desperately trying to force a forearm into her dustbin. She muttered and babbled to herself, her face covered in soot and blood, deep runs of color down her cheeks marking the path of last weeks’ tears.

 

Gavin saw her a moment later, as Hryn detached himself from the wall, and walked slowly towards her. Gavin stood spellbound as he watched Hryn, the most cold-blooded and ruthless of killers he had ever met, stoop gingerly beside her and gently take the severed limb from her hand. The woman started at Hryn’s touch, jumping back with a yelp of surprise.

 

Her eyes stared blankly at Hryn, clouded over with dementia, and then gradually cleared. She stared at Hryn for several seconds, eyes widening in shock, or fear, or shame. And then she collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Hryn lowered his head to hers, rubbed the side of his face against hers, picking up a large smear of blackish red across his left cheek in doing so. When he spoke, it was low and tender, almost fatherly.

 

“C’mon… stand up for me. Let’s get you out of here.”

 

“But…,” she sniffed, “F-Fexus… said t-to c-clean up the k-kitchen.” Hryn’s eyes hardened for a moment, then turned soft once more.

 

“Did he now? Well… never you worry about that. Here, come with me.” Hryn half-lifted her under her arms, getting her to her feet and putting an arm around her shoulders. He glanced over at Gavin, still dumb stricken against the wall and motioned with his head to follow. They picked a path out of the kitchens, and up into the ground-floors of Hammer Keep, Hryn’s arm around the poor woman the whole way.

 

-------------------

 

The top-cliffs of Hammer Keep gusted with a chill breeze, whipping the spray from the Falls across Fexus’ face, stinging his eyelids as he sat cross-legged and waiting. Here, where Fexus kept his sanctuary, the rain did not touch. A sheet of water fell hard just at the edge of the cliffs, but no drop would touch the hard granite.

 

Hryn was coming, he could feel it. The man was relentless; Fexus had made sure of that… he’d never thought that Hryn would betray him, though.

 

Fexus’ mind flashed back on the chain of events which had led him to this point… to his childhood in the simpering, two-faced courts of House Hloran, to the young man whom he’d betrayed to bring that House low…

 

Sometimes, in the nights, Fexus still regretted killing Mallon Hloran. Mallon had been the last, the only one left with access to the flaring orb which Fexus worshipped. And he’d been willing to share it; he’d been willing to compromise.

 

Fexus’ hand reflexively moved up to the pendant around his neck, the carved lion and snake. It was a nervous habit he’d developed over the years… whenever he was deep in thought, or worried, or just bored, his hand would flip the disc over and over. Fexus often mused on how it looked like the lion and snake were dancing… or fighting.

 

Fexus had often thought of Hryn and Nanten as his lion and snake. Nanten the snake, who could infiltrate and deceive with the gentle ease of a spring rain turning into a thunderstorm. Hryn, then, was the lion… he had never failed in his appointed tasks, had never wavered from his duties. And that, Fexus thought, was what scared him most about the man.

 

-------------------

 

The woman laid still now, her breathing stable and deep. She’d fallen asleep almost as soon as Hryn had led her to a bed, tucked away in a tiny room off one of the main halls. Gavin watched with cold unease as Hryn washed her face gently, so as not to wake her. The layers of soot and blood came away to reveal the face of a middle-aged woman, who may have been quite pretty in other circumstances.

 

Gavin caught the older man’s eye and motioned towards the door. Hryn nodded silently and stood, following Gavin into the hall. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Hryn’s face hardened into its normal stone. Gavin stood quietly for a moment, listening to the rain pounding down on the walls of Hammer Keep.

 

Apparently, the light rain they’d come through had intensified. A crack of thunder accentuated the silence. Hryn’s eyes shifted to the stairs at the end of the hall.

 

“Above this floor, the Keep will likely be guarded.” Hryn pulled the hood of his cloak up, shrouding his face in darkness. “Keep your face covered, boy… the guards might not know what black eyes mean, but they’ll likely not take the time to ask. And I’d rather not have to kill them all.”

 

Gavin pulled his hood up, remaining silent.

 

“The stairs will lead us to the Great Hall, a reception room of sorts… from there, we have five floors up until Fexus’ study. I doubt we’ll find him there, but it’s worth a look. After that, three more floors before the top-cliffs. Now keep up, keep your head down, and keep quiet.”

 

Hryn started off down the hall, his cloak flaring out behind him as another crack of thunder echoed from outside.

[Finnius]

The Great Hall of Hammer Keep loomed wide above Gavin, and he craned his neck to see into its high corners. Hryn slipped a heel back to step on Gavin’s foot, shooting him a narrow, dangerous look. Gavin nodded curtly and lowered his eyes. The stairs from which they had come disappeared into the background, giving way to a hurried mass of people.

 

A man and woman in the grey of Fexus’ personal guards stood watch over the massive front gates. Their eyes tracked Gavin and Hryn steadily, cutting through the bustle of secretaries, chamber maids, and message carriers. The man gave the woman a knowing glance and a nod, and then left his post, weaving through the throng to walk aside Hryn, matching his step.

 

Gavin dared a darted look at their companion. He was a short man with dark skin and jet-black hair. He had the look of a man to whom laughter came easily, but kept it now bottled. Hryn’s head stayed forward until they had reached the stairs at the other end of the hall and ascended to the second level of Hammer Keep.

 

-------------------

 

At the top of the stairs, Hryn turned quickly and grabbed the short man by the collar of his grey uniform shirt, forcing him abruptly against the wall. Hryn smiled thinly as he recognized the man’s face.

 

“Machen, Machen…” Hryn clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I do hope you aren’t going to try and stop me from finding Fexus. Are you, Machen?”

 

Much to Hryn’s surprise, the short, dark-skinned man’s shoulders slumped in relief near as soon as he saw Hryn’s face. Machen’s eyes turned upwards and a tiny laugh escaped his lips.

 

“It’s you… we’d all but given up hope!”

 

Hryn’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but he released Machen’s shirt.

 

“We?”

 

“Kira and myself. Hryn, since you left on your last mission, Fexus has begun acting… strangely. He’s locked himself in his study for days on end, reading books. He’s been spending more and more time on the Top Cliffs, watching the Falls. He’s even more close-mouthed than usual. We’re starting to get worried.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“No… he’s been sending Fixers away from Hammerfall with increasing regularity lately. First you, to Cold Port, then Jani and Coral west to Alt. Kurin was sent east, into the desert, to search for some dead city, and soon after he came back, he was sent out again with Bria to the south of the Althinean Island. Then Fexus recalled Nanten to active duty, and sent Matthew into the caves of Mortani… nobody’s heard from him since, and we think he’s dead by now, or worse. Kira, myself, Nanten, and Jasoph. We’re the only Fixers left in Hammerfall… or were, until you arrived.”

 

“Nanten is dead.”

 

Machen stared blankly for a moment, then shook his head and went on.

 

“Yes, well… with the orders he was given, it’s not surprising.”

 

Hryn gave a short bark of a laugh, his face flashing to a stoney annoyance directly after.

 

“And where do I fit into all this?”

 

“The Fixers met last night. We’ve come to a decision… some time ago, Fexus declared you outlaw. He claimed that you had thrown in with the Dead Council and were plotting his death.”

 

Hryn turned from Machen, the heels of his boots thudding against the stone floor as he continued down the hallway. Machen and Gavin caught up just in time for Hryn to turn his head to Machen, give a short nod, and speak curtly.

 

“Go on.”

 

“Yes, well… whatever the case, it’s become obvious that Fexus wants you dead, and that you share the sentiment. Hryn, the Order of Fixers has decided that the time has come to stop taking sides. Or at least, to stop taking certain sides.”

 

-------------------

 

Loryn’s eyes were stuck on the stone relief, constantly shifting and changing. It had remained fixed on the image of a man, Fexus… Fexus with wings and black eyes. Gerod had turned towards the onyx orb of Balphinus shortly after identifying the man, and had begun chanting some barely audible mantra in a language with which Loryn was unfamiliar.

 

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the orb, and so he hadn’t noticed the changes taking place on the wall behind him. The stone flowed like water, shifted like waves of sand in a spring gale. The man’s face had changed, growing harder and more lined. His eyes had cleared, and for a moment, Loryn was sure that he would open his mouth and begin speaking.

 

The carving on the wall had turned its head towards Gerod, then melted into the clearly recognizable cliffs of Hammerfall. The cliffs had given way to more monstrous things… images of a man with limbs that constantly shifted and rearranged themselves. Loryn’s eyes could scarcely follow what was happening to him.

 

The horrid form finally collapsed outwards, bursting into the image of a man with whom Loryn was intimately familiar. His face was set and hard, and he wore a cloak which swished around his ankles. Hryn… and there at his side, Gavin, with his jet eyes downcast beneath a cloak similar to the one his mentor wore.

 

They were approaching a door, plain and wooden. There was nothing remarkable about it at all, but still Loryn could not shake the feeling of something terrible lurking past that door. Hryn reached out to open it, and Gavin’s hand shot to his shoulder. The boy’s lips moved, and Hryn’s hand closed around the doorknob.

 

Gavin shrugged, then turned his face, briefly but noticeably. He turned his face, and looked at Loryn, stared her in the face for the smallest flicker.

 

The wall went blank, Gavin’s smile melting off after everything else had gone.

 

-------------------

 

“Certain sides, Machen? By which you mean Fexus’ side, correct?”

 

“I could. I could also mean that the Order has decided to stop taking any sides but its own. But that’s not really the point, either.”

 

“Then get to the point. This is getting tiresome.”

 

Machen cleared his throat nervously, shooting a furtive look at Gavin.

 

“The point is that we’d like to make you an offer. The Order of Fixers needs a leader, Hryn… someone who already has a name for himself, whether for good or ill. We think you’re the best man for the job.”

 

Hryn stopped in front of a heavy oak door, and turned to consider the dark-skinned man. He shook his head slowly. He looked Machen over, searched for any trace of betrayal, or dishonesty, and found none. Gavin stood silently, distractedly staring down the hall.

 

“I’ll think on it. Mind you, though… whatever name I have left is hardly a name at all. Most within the city believe the name of Hryn to be a child’s tale, a thing to cow the weak and frighten fools.”

 

“It’s more of a name than most of us have.”

 

“Fine. We’ll discuss it later. For now, return to your post and forget you ever saw me.”

 

Machen saluted briefly, an open hand over his heart, then stepped backwards and turned. He was gone in a matter of seconds. Hryn turned to the door, and extended a hand to open it. Gavin’s hand darted out, latching onto Hryn’s shoulder.

 

The boy grinned lopsidedly, and turned back towards his former teacher.

 

“Fexus isn’t in there.”

 

Hryn’s hand closed on the doorknob, and turned. Gavin shrugged and glanced back down the hall, then followed Hryn into the room.

 

-------------------

 

“Darkness drives me onward, who walks in light leads blindly. Death I shall become, if life shall be denied me.” Gerod Loghis forced himself to his feet, wiping the dust from his knees and turning towards Loryn. “Tell me, Dessina… do you know who said that?”

 

Loryn shook her head slowly, still staring at the mural wall. The stone slowly spiraled now, a pinprick of dusk growing wider in the center.

 

“The couplet is attributed to Sospita, but the sentiment… it has been a point of contention for years. Some say that Holy Althis left it with his foremost scribe shortly after his death, others attribute it to Natali Grass-stalker, upon the realization of his curse…” Loghis sighed heavily and raised an eyebrow at Loryn’s vacant stare. “What’s wrong, Dessina? Surely you’re not still upset over the destruction of Cold Port? Believe me, when you live as long as I have, you’ll-“

 

Loryn’s hand stretched out shakily, pointing towards the wall, to which Gerod now turned. The stone had formed into distinctly spiraling clouds, meeting at a center-point which darkened and widened with each passing moment.

 

The center of the black disc which grew on the wall held a small, irregular spot of light. An ever-shifting form, now a wailing mouth, now a bloodshot and water-rimmed eye, now a warning hand. Loghis dropped to his knees, his mouth opening wide.

 

The stone clouds burst open, and an icy wind ripped through the chamber, howling and tearing at the flesh of its two dead occupants.

 

-------------------

 

The room was dark, but Hryn had known it would be. It reeked of blood and magebane, which Hryn had half-suspected it might. The window was open, and Hryn had counted on it. Hryn sank to his heels, his hands reaching blindly on the floor.

 

Fexus’ study revealed itself to Hryn’s senses. The smooth carpet, of which there was very little in Hammer Keep, was disturbed. Thin rivulets of fiber ran toward the massive desk in the center. Fexus had been pacing here.

 

The scent of oil and struck flint came faintly from a corner. Hryn made his way slowly towards it and fumbled until he struck a spark. The room lit, a tall candle stand revealing itself to Hryn’s eyes… and beyond it, a slumped body with shiny, silvery jaws.

 

The next few moments played out slowly. The sparks fell to the floor, and a thin trail of fire wound itself towards the body. Gavin leapt behind the oak desk, and the trail of fire groped its way up the man’s leg. Hryn dove to the side, towards the far wall.

 

-------------------

 

The trail of fire fought its way up the man’s chest, and in that instant, his eyes opened wide. A sound like thunder forced its way out of his jaws, cloaking the room in fire, sweeping the desk onto its side. Gavin narrowly scuttled out of the way, exposing his cloak to the flames billowing around the desk.

 

A fierce, sweltering moment passed, and silence returned to the room. Gavin’s head peered out from behind the desk. The office was illuminated in the dim glow of miniature bonfires which had sprung up around the carpet’s edges. Hryn was nowhere to be seen.

 

Gavin staggered into the middle of the room, his eyes scanning side to side, looking in every corner for any trace of his former teacher. The door hung on its hinges, lying slanted halfway out of the room. The sound of footsteps echoed from the lower levels.