

## SAVING SIMARRAH

Night of the Moons

By

### M. Tarkh

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 by M.Tarkh

All Rights Reserved.

### Table of Contents

Prologue

Book 1

Book 2

Book 3

Book 4

Epilogue

Six sisters waltz in graceful line,

Magick dead this portentous time.

Will Prince of Faerie lose his heart?

Or Khanzaar aim true deadly dart.

As Good and Evil fight for might

The Fates rule this decisive night!

### PROLOGUE

SOMEWHERE SECRET.......

Grand Wizard Henkriel of Proth walked up to the enormous, magical Kapira tree, and rapped loudly on its rough bark with his gnarled staff.

"Password, please" squeaked the massive tree in an absurdly tiny shrill voice. Henkriel suppressed a little chuckle; he really did not want to offend the unfortunate tree's feelings. And as you know, it is never very wise to upset a Kapira Tree!

"Oozy ogres" he replied, and as an invisible door silently swung open, Henkriel walked into the secret Council Chamber.

A magical Kapira tree is the perfect place for secret meetings. These gigantic ancient trees - older even than Kalabos, the ageless silver wolf who guards the gates of Faerie, are extremely deceptive. They look just like ordinary trees from the outside, but once you step inside, they are pure magic! You can walk for miles inside a Kapira tree. They follow no rules of time or space or dimension. One minute they are here - the very next instant, they are gone! They could be floating in the clouds, or sitting very firmly in your backyard. Or they could be moving constantly. And you can let them know exactly where you want to be let out. Unfortunately, there are only three Kapira trees in all existence, and they are extremely elusive.

Kapira trees are most accommodating. A meeting for two hundred? No problem! A beautiful conference room is ready and waiting. A butterfly garden? A magical laboratory? Everything is possible!

Most of the other members of the Council of the Very Wise were already present. Henkriel sat down next to Askerith the Diviner who was dressed as usual in a long purple velvet robe covered with mystical lettering, with a profusion of suns and moons and stars along the hemline. On his head was a ridiculously large silver turban with a gigantic amethyst - purple to match his robe, sitting lopsided in the centre. His turban jewel always matched the colour of his outfit. 'Oh no!' thought Henkriel, 'must the silly old ass always dress like a cheap tarot reader in the bazaars of Proth?'

On the other side of Henkriel, Arniella sipped a cup of wolfbane tea. She was the greatest witch the worlds had ever seen, always using her enormous power for good causes. Kind and gentle as a rule, she could get as angry as a raging tornado against evil villains.

But unfortunately Arniella would never practice her craft again – a condition imposed upon her by the evil warlord Fostan in return for the release of the ten thousand innocent citizens he had captured during his conquest of Mardira.

What Arniella did not know about witchcraft was not worth knowing. She was one of most valued members on the Council. Always elegant, perfectly dressed, and soft spoken, the witch exerted enormous influence over all the good witches in all the worlds.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry. Am I terribly late?" Jazzi the dwarf burst into the room, flustered and harried as usual, his cloak askew, hair wildly dishevelled, ink stains on his fingers. Nobody would have guessed that Jazzi was one of the most brilliant minds of the millennium, and had been the brain behind many successful ventures against the Forces of Evil. "I am so sorry" he repeated as he took his place.

"Oh do sit down" said Aranos who had called the meeting. "We have wasted enough time already."

"And why have you summoned us with such urgency?" enquired Sheeran, who was a bit put out because as leader of this elite group, he was the one who usually called for meetings.

"Can't you guess?" asked JigZig, her huge ears flapping in agitation. JigZig was the strangest looking creature, with the body of a ten year old child and the wrinkled face of a wizened crone. She was over seven thousand years old, and it was rumoured that her enormous ears had the power to pick up even the smallest whisper, the slightest rumour of an evil plot or plan.

"Huvoni, Queen of Faerie is with child." JigZig whispered gravely. "We have to be ready for the Night of the Moons."

Amid much argument and intense discussion, plans were planned and plots were hatched, and when the Council of the Very Wise felt they had done all that could be done, they turned their attention to the most important part of the meeting – the feast!

Each member of the Council had arrived accompanied by his or her personal assistant, and while the Council members were busy trying to save the worlds, the assistants were busy preparing the meal. And gossiping about their masters. And arguing. And getting in each others' way. If only the Wise Ones could manage their assistants as well as they managed affairs of the worlds!

The feast was a major success. The Wise Ones stuffed themselves with the rarest delicacies from all the realms. Succulent otukaas from Kirtis, stuffed with almonds and cashews and apricots were roasting on an open spit. Little moon crabs seasoned with jackoot oil were served with steaming platters of saffron rice. Huge salad bowls of exotic greens, plump berries, and squishy fresh fruit were placed near each member.

"Yuck!" Jazzi the dwarf spit out his salad after one bite.

"You must eat your vegetables my dear," said Arniella in a motherly voice.

"Yeah, otherwise how will you grow tall?" quipped Sheeran who fancied himself a comedien.

Poor Jazzi blushed to the roots of his hair, although since his hair was a bright carroty red, that was barely noticeable. Very rarely did a Council meeting go by without somebody making a joke about his height!

For dessert, the assistants brought out trays filled with chocolate fudge, and jam tarts, and fruit pies, and tiny little cakes iced with berries. The wine was divine, and highly potent. And soon the Wise Ones were eating and chattering and telling silly jokes. You would hardly think they could pass a seventh grade math test, much less save the worlds.

Once bellies were full, Aranos brought out his fiddle, and Askerith and JigZig danced the Dance of the Thousand Demons, stomping and leaping in wild abandon, while the others clapped and banged on their bowls in rhythm.

After the festivities died down, one by one, bidding goodbye to the tree, they put on their dignified demeanours, and slipped out and went their separate ways.

The Night of the Moons would soon be approaching, and the Wise Ones had planned for almost every possibility; but how events would actually play out, only the Fates would decide.

### And so it begins.......

In a secret palace deep in the kingdom of Faerie, King Zartos summoned his two most trusted fairies - Ashar and Pariy. "It is time" he said to the beautiful young couple, and very reluctantly handed them the tiny little bundle swathed in soft, silken cloth of white and gold. "Take him swiftly and safely, and may the great God Ahur be with you". He bent down and gently kissed the soft baby cheek, whispering a prayer and a blessing for his newborn son. Then with a weary heart, he went to console his weeping Queen.

The kingdom of Simarrah was a journey of over two years from the land of Faerie, but Ashar and Pariy made it in the twinkling of an eye. Dressed as simple peasants, they quickly made their way to a modest little cottage. Their knock was answered by a ruddy cheeked man with twinkling brown eyes.

"Come in, come in". With a big smile, he welcomed them inside.

In the cozy little kitchen his wife was slicing vegetables to add to their dinner stew. The mouth-watering aroma of the stew mingled enticingly with the smoky smell of wood burning in the large brick fireplace. Wildflowers arranged in jugs and vases and bottles were scattered all over the slightly untidy, yet charming room. The home was warm and welcoming.

Ashar looked enquiringly at Pariy, who quickly nodded her approval.

"Well good strangers, what brings you to Simarrah?" asked the husband. It was very obvious that this gorgeous couple with their long dark eyes, high cheekbones and ethereal beauty were visitors from some distant land.

"We come to bring you your son" said Ashar, while Pariy gently handed the tiny little bundle to the woman.

"Our son?" said the astonished woman; "what in heaven do you mean? We do not have a son; we have no children at all."

"God has answered your prayers, good woman. Here, take him and love him well." Pariy kissed the sleeping baby goodbye, while Ashar put his hands on the couple's heads and stared deep into their eyes. Performing ancient Faerie magic, as old as the beginning of time, in an instant he altered the couple's reality forever. Then as swiftly as they had arrived, Ashar and Pariy were gone!

### BOOK 1

### THE PROPHECY.

NINETEEN YEARS LATER....

### SIMARRAH

The good citizens of Simarrah had gathered in the Royal Palace gardens, dressed in all their finery, to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of good King Shoarib's rule. It was a magnificent day – the weather just perfect, the sun beaming benevolently on the happy crowd. The Palace gardens were dotted with gaily decorated tents, their lilac and blue silk canopies billowing gently in the light breeze.

Yeewis the King's butler was supervising the waiters, pompously yelling out orders. "Watch that tray, young Belber" he shouted loudly, startling the waiter into dropping it completely. "Imbecile!"

"Oh no, you don't!" he ran screaming after a young twelve year old lad who was trying to sneak off with a glass of wine.

"How can the King expect everything to run smoothly when he gives me complete nincompoops to work with!" he grumbled to a passing guest.

But in spite of his worrying - or maybe because of it, the party seemed to be quite a success.

Wine flowed freely, platters of fruit and succulent meats were generously handed around by liveried waiters, and exquisitely delicious cakes and pastries were greedily gobbled up by the revellers.

The Royal Band, very smart in their special uniforms, had set up in a pavilion in a corner of the garden, playing all the latest tunes and songs. Ferdi the band leader was whirling around on the stage in time to the music, which was loud and raucous and highly enjoyed by all. The young people were enthusiastically doing the 'rickrack', a very energetic new dance step! It involved a lot of jumping and twisting and shaking, and was accompanied by insane fits of giggling as the girls stumbled all over their partners.

In the tea tent, plump Mistress Tokkins was sharing a really juicy piece of gossip about the Toomi sisters who lived next door to her. "Those girls are UP TO NO GOOD!" she informed the group of women surrounding her with eager ears. "Poor Mother Toomi will have a complete breakdown by the end of the year, you mark my words!" she nodded gravely. The village grapevine was alive and well and flourishing!

Mr. Tokkins was relaxing in the sunshine with the other husbands, discussing the local Jumpstick teams, glasses of golden ale at hand, blowing fluffy billows of smoke as they contentedly puffed on their pipes.

The older folk sat in a smaller tent, huge platters heaped with creamy pastries at their side, gobbling up the yummy cakes, as they grumbled about how free young people were these days, and how noisy! "And these new fangled dances are simply shameful! Why, if ever I had danced the rickrack with a young gentleman in my day, my father would have had us married off the very next morn. Or else..." sniffed old lady Roxa. The elders were never so happy as when they had something to grumble about!

Outside on the lawn, old man Grutad was spinning tall tales to a group of reluctant young lads he had cornered. "I just grabbed on to the unicorn's mane and there was nothing he could do but fly around and around to try and shake me off. As you know, a unicorn never allows anybody on his back. But I held on tight, and did not let go, no Sir! Off we flew all over Simarrah, over the Sea of Gramania, over the hills and valleys of Tartos, and over the fields of the Giants of Pindzer, until finally the unicorn flew back and lay down as tamely as a horse for me to alight."

The young lads, longing to get away from the old bore, just nodded their heads, hoping he was finished. Even wishing their mothers would call them to help with something – anything!

The island kingdom of Simarrah was the most beautiful land in all the realms. It was surrounded by seven seas, and since it boasted neither derim \- the most precious metal, used to fashion weapons, nor much gold, nor much of any treasure at all, rulers of other realms did not bother making the effort to cross the seas and invade the land. There was really no reason to!

Ruled by benevolent King Shoarib and his charming queen Bansi, Simarrahns enjoyed a life of peace, happiness, and prosperity. There was no real crime in Simarrah, no war, not even a proper army!

In the past fifty years, the dungeons had never been put to use, except once. Young Hoshir, after too many glasses of ale at the Seven Seas Alehouse had jumped over Gilgo's fence and stolen his peaches. "Hey! Hey! Stop! Come back here you thief! My peaches!" Gilgo had run after the unsteady Hoshir, catching up with him quite easily. A scuffle had ensued between the two, and several other inebriated men who had followed Hoshir happily jumped in, until they were all finally hauled off by Constable Zakh to the Royal Dungeons to cool off.

Simarrahns still crossed the street when they saw the 'delinquent' Hoshir, and shot him dirty looks although he was now well in his sixties!

Animals gambolled happily in the woods and fields of Simarrah, and farms and orchards flourished and provided enough food for everybody. Simarrahns worked little and played much, and nobody was ever too busy to enjoy a good joke or a tasty morsel of gossip with his neighbour.

In the evenings they all gathered at the Seven Seas Alehouse, where they drank and ate, sang and danced, laughed and made merry until it was time to go home.

King Shoarib and Queen Bansi held wonderful parties on holidays for all the people in their kingdom. And if it was your birthday, you would be sure to find a huge gift wrapped in purple and silver waiting outside your door, delivered compliments of the Royal family!

In short, Simarrah was a land of milk and honey, blessed with love and joy, laughter and peace.

### AFRITHA

Afritha, the evil Queen of Haddeza was furious! Her hunters had not yet returned with the rare Giant Frumpous Bat whose wing she needed so urgently. Without it her spell was ruined and so was the rest of her plan.

Her guards had captured Algreth the leader of a puny rebel group, and she had big plans for him.

"Well Algreth, my good commander, how would you like to work for me now?" she mocked the terrified man. He was bound and gagged and fettered with rusty iron chains in a dirty little corner of Afritha's dungeons. Rats as huge as cats scampered around him, their bright red eyes approaching closer and closer every second. Screams of pure terror from another corner of the dungeon sent chill shivers of dread down Algreth's spine.

"See my fearless commander" she continued, slowly running the tip of a razor sharp dagger down his arm, "I have come up with a brilliant plan. Tonight, my little Jubal, my own special little demon will inhabit your puny, insignificant human body. Then 'Algreth' will join his little rebel force, and the fun will begin! Jubal knows exactly how to confuse and use your silly little friends, and make them my willing slaves. And for those who are more resistant....kkhhk" she made a sharp throat slitting gesture.

Chanting in a creepy voice, she took a pinch of grey dust from a tiny bowl, and threw it over his heart. "O soul, retreat. O life, leave, except for the final spark. O body, await the spirit of darkness."

Slowly, life seemed to creep out of Algreth's body, until he was barely alive. His eyes grew dull, and his limbs felt heavy and cold.

His body was ready to accept Jubal's spirit, but to complete the spell she needed the wing of the elusive Frumpous Bat. Time was wasting, and soon the commander would be dead and of no use to her.

Leaving Algreth bound almost lifeless in the dungeons, she went up to the High Tower to watch for her hunters. "Where are my useless hunters?" she fumed as she savagely paced the floor. "If Algreth dies, they will surely pay for his death with their lives!"

If Simarrah was the land of milk and honey, Haddeza was the land of putrid pus and bile. The land itself was inhospitable – rocky and barren, except for an abundance of twisted thorny shrubs. The skies were grey and threatening, the forests dark and menacing, the people loathsome and vile. Danger lurked in every corner of the land, feeding off the fear of empty souls. It had not always been thus. Legend had it that Haddeza had once been a very prosperous and happy kingdom until Afritha and her army of Gorgoths had conquered it with brute force and foul magic, and turned it into a land pulsating with evil, filth, and baseness. Wherever Afritha and her army went, destruction and unholy evil always followed.

Ahrimn was the most powerful evil entity in all existence. His power almost rivalled that of Ahur, and between them they maintained a balance of good and evil in all the worlds.

Then Ahur created Zartos as his regent over the worlds, and Ahrimn longed for progeny of his own – "a child who will keep my name forever alive in the worlds of the living, a child who will incite fear in the hearts of those who refuse me, a child who will enforce worship of Ahrimn on every altar in all the realms."

The woman who would bear this special child had to be very special as well. After years of search and research, Ahrimn decided upon the evil sorceress Kaila.

Kaila knew as much of the Black Arts as it was possible for any living creature to know. She had spent her entire life - which was considerably long, surrounded by her tomes of evil spells and incantations, always learning, learning, learning. Her library was filled with dusty grimoires and ancient books of dark ritual, so thick that she could barely lift them. Each book was lovingly covered in delicate Faerie skin, for Faerie skin was most conducive to magic. Her familiars were frightful creatures – gargoyles that had turned corrupt, human sized bats who roamed the night in her service, demons that delighted in vicious brutality.

Kaila readily agreed to bear Ahrimn's offspring on one condition.

"Make me immortal" she bargained. "Teach me the ritual of immortality, and I shall give you a child who will make your name the epitome of power, who will make the ground tremble with fear of you, great Ahrimn – a child who will make every altar in every realm offer sacrifice to you."

"Ask me anything else and I shall grant it. Anything but this..." answered Ahrimn. He well knew that Kaila's ambitions were beyond all bounds, and once immortal, she would challenge his power as well.

"No, that is my only condition" she replied.

"Very well, then. Give me a child and I shall teach you the ritual" promised Ahrimn, although he had no intention of keeping his word. If Kaila was stupid enough to believe his promise, she did not deserve to be immortal!

In time Afritha was born, beautiful as an angel, pure evil at heart. Ahrimn was delighted with the child and left her in Kaila's care. Every time Kaila demanded her gift of immortality, Ahrimn made some excuse to postpone it. Kaila soon realised she had been tricked, and that Ahrimn was never going to make good on his promise.

"That is what the word of Ahrimn means" she fumed. "Nothing but empty promises and lies!"

Afritha grew up seeing her mother's obsession with immortality slowly consuming her. Like a crazed woman, Kaila attacked her books, running hither and tither, trying this spell and that to make her immortal. She summoned up help from the underworld - hideous devils, who brought her the most beautiful faeries and humans and woodland creatures for sacrifice on Ahrimn's altar to regain his pleasure. She lost her youth and her beauty as she locked herself up in her library and cast spell after spell after spell in frantic pursuit of her elusive desire.

"If I were immortal my dear daughter, I would give you the worlds to rule. Ahrimn would become an impotent fool, and all power would be in your hands. With my knowledge of the black arts you would defeat Ahur as well, and reign unopposed over all the worlds. With immortality, time is on your side, and everything is possible!"

"Is there no other who can give you this gift?" asked Afritha.

"Daughter mine, there is one other in the realms who can perhaps fathom this secret. The sorcerer Jaduvan! He is the only one to rival my knowledge of the Black Arts, and is much favoured by Ahrimn. But although he could discover the conjuration, he is not powerful enough to correctly harness the Darkness and gain the prize for himself. And anyway, he has no need of it, as Ahrimn has granted him an immeasurable lifespan. Jaduvan will never make the effort to learn and cast the ritual for me. I am now an old and ugly crone. Why should he incur the wrath of Ahrimn for me?"

"Would he do it for me?" asked Afritha, now a breath-takingly beautiful young woman.

Kaila cackled, well pleased, "Ahh my little girl is ambitious as well! That is a good thing. Well Afritha, please your father and perhaps he will give you what he would not give me. And if that fails, seek out Jaduvan and flatter the secret out of him. Men are so easily susceptible to flattery!"

"Immortality, my daughter, immortality....", Kaila's final whispers continually echoed through her daughter's heart. 'Poor mother' thought Afritha. 'She did not enjoy the life she had in her quest for life everlasting! Unlike her, I will let others work to give me that gift.'

Afritha spent her life worshipping Ahrimn, establishing his rule in all the realms she conquered. And she sought out the sorcerer Jaduvan, and flattered and seduced the old man until he was as obsessed with her as she was with immortality.

Afritha was as beautiful as she was evil. Pale white skin, hair as silky black as the darkest night, and eyes as vividly green as the single glittering emerald she always wore around her neck, she held every male completely enthralled. If her beauty was unrivalled, so was the venom that coursed through her veins – malignant, unholy, and foul! She was an expert in the Black Arts which she used to further her ambitions of ruling over all the worlds.

Rumour had it that she was already almost invincible; that she fed on the souls of her hapless victims. Many heroes and warriors had attempted to kill her, but none had succeeded.

"Trust no one my daughter", Kaila had often cautioned her daughter. "Remember how your father tricked me!"

Afritha took her mother's words to heart. She led a very lonely life, not allowing anybody to get close to her, not trusting anybody at all. Her secrets were hers and hers alone. She preferred it this way. But even evil witches need a companion, and Afritha's confidant was her familiar - an ugly little imp named Jubal who adored his mistress, and adored the power his position gave him over all her other demons and creatures. Although they disliked him immensely, they knew they better obey his orders and keep in his good books, or else...

Afritha had rescued Jubal from a hungry ogre who was about to make a snack of the little creature. Staring directly into the ogre's eyes, she snapped her fingers, and muttering "Stone thou art", she turned the brute into solid rock. A grateful Jubal leapt into Afritha's arms, slobbering with gratitude. "Mistress, my Mistress", he babbled, "thank you, thank you, thank you. I am forever your most loyal servant. I will obey you without question. I will kiss the ground you walk on. I will give my life for you...."

"Make sure you do, Jubal – for that is your name now. Make sure you do! Or else you will wish that ogre had eaten you!" Afritha replied. "And a lot less chatter if you please...."

Jubal had become her most loyal lackey ever since. He was her eyes and ears, spying on everybody who dwelt in Castle Rith Afra, thrilled to create trouble wherever he could.

Jubal was just three feet tall, round as a melon, with neon pink skin, a round baby face and tiny horns all over his head. His little forked tail curled round and round like a coiled spring. He looked like a cutely ugly baby, but looks were deceiving. He was really not very nice or cute at all! He was a malicious little devil, vicious and mean.

In the High Tower of Rith Afra, the slime in Afritha's magic cauldron bubbled, and grotesque, smoky creatures emerged from it, dancing all around her, clawing at her with ghostly tentacles, drooling as they called out for the wing of the Frumpous Bat. "Where is it? Where is it?" they cackled. "Give, give, give" they chanted in creepy whispers.

"Patience, my lovelies! You will get what you want." Night was almost upon them, and muttering angrily, Afritha looked out of the window of the High Tower waiting for her hunters.

Glancing at the night sky, Afritha noticed strange, eerie shadows flit by and then settle over the six Haddezzan moons. The moons seemed to be in a state of agitation. She realised with a start that the Night of the Moons was fast approaching. Soon she would face her destiny – immortality or destruction!

The time had come, and there was still much to be done!

"Jubal!" she screamed. "Forget Algreth. We have bigger things to take care of!"

### TO SIMARRAH!

Afritha barely slept all night, tossing and turning, impatiently waiting for the special moment just before dawn, when evil roams the realms unchecked, and magic is most powerful. As soon as the time was right, she ran to the Tower room, high over Castle Rith Afra, which was used for only the darkest, most potent magic. Jubal hurried behind her, panting as he tried to keep up.

Afritha stood in front of her bubbling cauldron, revelling in the dank, noxious fumes rising from its murky depths. Adding the final touch – three talons from a vulture's rotting corpse, she chanted, "O Ahrimn, O Mighty Father, accept my supplication! Hear my plea O dark Lord and give me that which I seek! The night of prophecy shall soon come to pass. Let me emerge victorious!"

The cauldron bubbled furiously, and out of it flew hundreds of vulture-like creatures – vile and repulsive, with wings like bats' covered in scales! "O my lovelies", purred Afritha; "Go out into all the realms and find what I seek. Fly like the wind, but even faster, for time is of the essence".

The Vudrals - for that is what the creatures were called, bowed their hideous heads in obedience, and with a swish of their tails, flew out the window in different directions.

They flew over the arid desert realm of Sar-El- Mash, they flew over the mountain-lands of Kardis, they flew over the island kingdom of Simarrah, they flew over the water empire of Latansis, they flew over the fortified kingdom of Rhinlandia, they flew over the forests of Isfandar. They even flew over the Dead Lands - a darkly bleak and barren world inhabited only by the spirits of the damned, where no living soul dared venture!

They flew swift and sure over every corner of every realm!

Young lads playing in the streets of Simarrah were astonished to see strange wings flapping across the skies.

"Look, look" they pointed at the weird, revolting creatures crowding the skies overhead.

"What is that?" cried out a little boy.

"I am scared! They are going to eat me!" Little Lisha ran all the way home as fast as she could, glancing over her shoulder all the time to make sure they were not coming after her.

Tougher lads gleefully ran after the strange creatures, flinging little pebbles at them, but the Vudrals immediately swooped down and attacked the boys with their sharp cruel beaks, making them beat a rather hasty retreat.

The gigantic winged creatures, their beady eyes ever watchful, alighted on rooftops and treetops, and on posts and pillars all over the land. They seemed to be searching for something, croaking harshly at one another. The Simarrahns had no idea why this swarm of gruesome creatures had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Goodbuns the baker came out of his shop and almost jumped with fright to see one of the creatures perched on the bench outside.

Old lady Roxa's poodle went berserk when a Vudral flew across the park flapping its scaly wings in his furry face! With amazing strength for such a tiny creature, he pulled a screaming Roxa all the way down the street back to the safety of their home.

The skies over Simarrah grew dark with flapping wings, and the citizens of Simarrah started to get afraid - very, very afraid. Some of them made straight for the Palace square, waiting for their King to do something, anything, about these scary creatures.

The King summoned Captain Mordross of the Royal Guardsmen. "Captain, what is going on? What are these dreadful creatures? What are we going to do?"

Mordross, completely flustered and quite scared, summoned his Guardsmen in case of an attack. 'Although what we can do if these vicious birds attack, I have no idea at all', he thought to himself.

Nobody knew how Mordross got appointed Captain of the Royal Guardsmen. He was just a blustering bully who loved being in charge, loved shouting out orders.

"Perhaps that is the only job requirement" Roghaar, one of the guardsmen snickered.

The guardsmen soon noticed that if there was any sign of trouble - which, this being Simarrah, rarely happened, Mordross made sure he was safely issuing orders, instead of being in the midst of the fray.

Plus it seemed as though Mordross was a bit dishonest as well.

Richler, Simarrah's most prosperous jeweller had sent Mordross a box of beautiful chains for the guardsmen's uniforms as a thank you for guarding his shop when his regular store guard Old Prender died. Curiously though, none of the guardsmen had received any of the thick, well-crafted chains.

"Has anybody seen the box of chains Richler sent us?" one of the guardsmen asked. "I did not get mine, and now I cannot find the box."

" _I did not get mine either."_

" _Same here."_

The guardsmen started looking for the box, searching high and low, here and there, and everywhere they could think of.

"Er, I have to go speak with the King about the new town ordinances" Mordross sidled to the door, and quickly disappeared.

"Did you notice he is wearing a shiny new chain on his pocket watch?" observed Roghaar.

They never found the box or the chains anywhere.

But unfortunately the King did not seem to notice Mordross' shortcomings, and the Captain continued misusing his position.

Whilst the King and the Captain and the guardsmen were trying to decide what to do about the strange Vudral invasion, King Shoarib had Loudmouth the town-crier call out to the citizens of Simarrah, asking them all to gather in the Palace grounds where the guards would try to keep them safe from harm.

Vhari and Akelis, two young Simarrahn men, fascinated and curious to know what was happening, ran to the palace with the frightful Vudrals flapping around their heads all the way there.

"They seem to be following you, Vhari" laughed Akelis. "I better stay far away from you!"

Zaeve, Simarrah's young musician, very worried about his pregnant wife's safety, took her to the palace as well.

And Yahnni the Acolyte of the Temple of the Faithful made sure the priests and priestesses were all secure in the inner chambers of the Royal Palace. There he set up a special area for the high priest to invoke the gods of Simarrah for their protection. And invoke they did! Long and loud!

Their prayers must have pleased the gods, because very soon, with a few harsh croaks, the sinister creatures signalled one another, and then flew off as suddenly as they had appeared! In an instant it was as if the entire incident had never happened!

And of course, since this was Simarrah, the people had to celebrate their good fortune. So, out came Zaeve's lute, and everybody ran home and brought whatever food they had, and the merry citizens of Simarrah danced and dined, laughed and drank, and soon forgot their nasty encounter with the ugly creatures.

### Vhari and Akelis.

Akelis had grown up right next door to his very best friend Vhari. Only a few weeks apart in age, the two had been inseparable companions from the very begining. They learned to walk and talk and run at the same time, and as they grew older, were known as the 'dreaded duo' in their neighbourhood. Vhari was always the leader with his quick wit and charming ways, and Akelis happily followed his friend in every morsel of mischief.

"Honestly, I do think that if your Vhari asked my Akelis to jump into Lake Lushkaar, Akelis would do so without giving it a thought", Akelis' mother said to Quinran.

"Oh, don't fret!" replied Quinran. "You know that Vhari would never let Akelis come to any harm. Why, those two would be lost without each other."

When Vhari and Akelis were twelve years old, they swore the sacred oath of blood-brotherhood. Meeting behind Brackten Pond, they pierced their thumbs with a cheap little dagger, the hilt of which Vhari had carved in the shape of a dragon's head. "I swear by the blood of the Sacred Dragon that we are true brothers for all eternity! I swear that I shall give my life for thee, and be by thy side through all danger, and that I shall share all my possessions with thee, including sweets and pies." Vhari had written the oath and conducted the solemn ceremony. Of course both boys' thumbs got infected later on, but that only added to the thrill of the secret rite.

Vhari and Akelis graduated from playing silly pranks on the neighbours, to teasing and kissing young maids, and getting into drunken brawls with other youths at the Seven Seas Alehouse.

Their friendship was tested just once, when Akelis, a strong, serious young man of eighteen fell head over heels in love with Sreeka, who also lived in the neighbourhood. Akelis was more concerned about breaking the news to Vhari, than to his own parents. Luckily, Vhari approved of the sweet, shy girl, and with his incredible charm immediately befriended her and made her a part of their adventures as well. This naturally made Akelis love his friend all the more.

Vhari and Akelis celebrated their Nijash ceremony – the ceremonial coming of age rite each young Simarrahn man went through at nineteen, on the same day. The two best friends looked so different – Vhari, the outrageous charmer, and Akelis, shy and introverted, yet strong and dependable.

Quinran looked at her son with pride... Vhari had grown so strong, so handsome, so charming! Of course his hair was too long, and as always, his clothes were outrageously showy. But Vhari always wanted to stand out in a crowd. Look different! Be noticed!

For his Nijaash, he had chosen to wear a long embroidered purple velvet tunic trimmed with silver beads, over black tights. The tunic was belted in antique silver, and he wore numerous silver bracelets and cuffs on his wrists. Soft black leather boots completed the outfit. Old Bayrod came down the stairs looking at his son with a big frown. "Vhari, can't you dress normally today at least? My son, all the most important people in town will be coming to celebrate your Nijash, to see how you have grown, and to offer you employment if they are impressed. Can't you consider your future for once? And why are you wearing so many bracelets and cuffs around your wrist? One is more than enough for a young man. You are not a child any more. Please start thinking very seriously about your life", he droned on and on and on, just as every father of every young man does at some point.

"Oh father, don't worry about me. I shall do just fine. You wait and see, one day I shall make you very proud of me"; and Vhari gave his father a huge hug, bringing a reluctant smile on the old man's face.

The doorbell rang and a messenger in Royal livery handed Vhari a package wrapped in purple and silver.

Standing ramrod straight at attention, the messenger announced, "Birthday greetings to citizen Vhari from their majesties King Shoarib and Queen Bansi!" He looked hopefully at Vhari, who gave him a charming smile and a polite 'thank you'. With a snort of disgust, the messenger turned around to leave.

"Here Sir, something for your trouble", Quinran offered the messenger some cake.

With a look of utter disdain, the man took the proffered piece, and left.

Vhari tore open the wrapper. Nestled among purple and silver tissue paper lay a beautiful panja - a fingerless glove made of silver chainmail exquisitely fashioned by the dwarfs of Kardis. It extended to the middle of his forearm, and with a happy smile Vhari added it to his already gorgeous ensemble! "Even our Queen encourages this silly boy!" grumbled old Bayrod.

"Oh, come on, Bayrod, our son looks so happy; let him be. Let him enjoy his Nijash. There is time enough for him to get serious about life."

Giving his parents a wave and a grin, Vhari took off to meet his friends and show off his new gift.

The Nijash ceremony was a great success. Fun was had by all, and everybody danced to the tunes of young Zaeve who composed and played the most marvellous music for the occassion on his lute.

All the girls had their eyes on Vhari - he definitely had to be one of the most gorgeous men ever! His raven black hair, wicked dark eyes, and the cute dimples in his cheeks, made every young girl ooh and aah over him! His little sister was surrounded by a gaggle of hopeful girls all trying to use her to get her brother's attention. She was well aware of this, and being a smart young lady took every advantage of the situation. Like every younger sister, she adored her big brother, but really could not figure out what her friends saw in him.

After the ceremony, Bayrod brought over Mr. Middash the town's Chief Accountant - whose job it was to make sure the wealth of Simarrah was correctly distributed, to meet his son. "Here Vhari, come and meet Mr. Middash. He is looking for a new assistant and is willing to give you a try", he said.

"What! Sit and count money and prepare accounts all day long! Father, what a waste of my life! I have bigger plans than that" - and Vhari strutted away leaving a red-faced Middash spluttering.

Poor Bayrod was very embarrassed and very angry with his young son. When would that boy get serious about life? All the other lads his age had already started working towards their future, and his son just wanted to have a good time, with his grandiose dreams and plans!

Vhari went to bed that night happy and content!

Three of the prettiest girls in Simarrah had agreed to meet him - at different times of course, the next day. Plus his good friend Roghaar, who was one of King Shoarib's Royal Guardsmen was going to introduce him to Michlingi the artist who was commissioned to design the artwork for the Royal Palace. Now that was the kind of job Vhari could be happy with.

Life was looking good!

### LORD DREATH

The Vudrals flew directly back to Rith Afra, back to their evil mistress. "The one you seek has been found in Simarrah."

"Well done, my beauties! Well done" laughed Afritha, her heart pounding with joy! "Jubal, ask the Dungeon Master to serve up some freshly slaughtered humans for their dinner."

Jubal looked at the hideous creatures with loathing. "Well, come along then, you ugly devils", he said. "Din-din!"

Then Afritha summoned her loyal general Lord Dreath.

Afritha soon acquired mastery of the Black Arts. She was ready to conquer all the worlds and establish the worship of Ahrimn throughout the lands. That would take her one step closer to gaining Ahrimn's gratitude, and perhaps with it the ritual of immortality. But in spite of all her magical prowess, she still needed an army to march in her name and conquer the realms.

Her army would have to be unique. Invincible! She wanted hideous, blood-thirsty brutes - but obedient ones, who would do exactly as she ordered. Naturally, she went to her father for help.

"My father, I need an army that I may conquer the worlds in your name. An army that instils instant fear and terror into the hearts of my enemies! An army without any scruples! With a commander so villainous, that just the mention of his name creates panic among my foe."

Well pleased, Ahrimn took his daughter to the very depths of his Inferno.

"Here my daughter, lie the mortal remains of my most loyal followers. Some of them were so depraved, even I should not have wanted to cross their paths" he laughed. "Take your pick my dear; there are plenty of heinous souls to choose from."

After much consideration, Afritha chose the head and torso of a man who had beheaded hundreds of humans and pickled their brains. She added the arms of a man who had pinned more than fifty faeries by their wings and tortured them until they died screaming from their horrific wounds; and the legs of one who had sadistically kicked his victims till their organs ruptured. After assembling this wretched creature, she pricked her thumb, and placed a drop of her blood in his heart, so he would forever remain loyal to her. Into his empty soul, she breathed her evil spirit! Thus was born Lord Dreath, her war commander.

Lord Dreath slowly came alive, stretching his new limbs with surprise and pleasure. His first act as a living creature was to go and kiss Afritha's feet, and proclaim his total loyalty and devotion to her.

Then Dreath helped Afritha pick out the rest of their Gorgoth army - foul creatures each and every one of them. Fashioned from the rotting bones of the denizens of the Inferno, all of them soul-less and heartless. All hump backed and over nine feel tall! All with only one milky eye!

"You have chosen well, my daughter" laughed Ahrimn with pride!

"Go to Simarrah with your army, Lord Dreath" ordered Afritha. "And bring me the One I seek."

"As your Majesty commands, my Queen" bowed Dreath, and made preparations for the journey.

Taking a hundred of his Gorgoth fighters, Lord Dreath made for Simarrah. Afritha brewed up magic mighty and powerful, which allowed her hideous army to cross the boiling, blistering waters of the Sea of Carabasa on the backs of humped and winged dragon-like creatures called Krilrexes, each as big as a house. In less than a day, the brutish army reached the pristine, peaceful shores of Simarrah.

The old hermit Henral who lived in a cave on the shore was the first to see this hideous sight. Huge, hairy, disgusting creatures alighting from the backs of enormous, loathsome beasts! The shore was teeming with these blood-curdling monsters, all growling and making loud guttural sounds. Old Henral, scared out of his wits started running madly towards the Royal Palace. "Help! Help! Oh gods! Oh King! The devils are upon us", he shrieked, as he tried to get to a safe place. But alas! Before he could run even a dozen steps, a Krilrex picked him up in her huge, slobbering mouth and swallowed him whole.

The people of Simarrah heard the approaching army much before it arrived in the palace square. Thumping, thundering, shaking the earth as they advanced, the ferocious Gorgoths stomped towards the palace, causing wanton destruction along the way.

Loudmouth the town crier was terrified at the sight of these monsters marching towards them. For the very first time ever he did not know what to say to warn the good citizens of Simarrah.

King Shoarib summoned Captain Mordross. "My good Captain" he asked, "what is happening to our peaceful Simarrah? Who are these creatures now, and why have they come here? And most important of all, what should we do?"

Captain Mordross, a thorough coward, shivered in his boots. He really did not want to face these brutes in combat. "Perhaps these monsters will leave shortly, just as the winged creatures before them. Let us all hide in the Royal Palace until they depart" he advised the King.

Roghaar the Royal Guardsman's blood boiled hearing his captain's dastardly words. "You pompous coward!" he spat out in disgust; "for once in your miserable, useless life, behave like a man! Do your job, and face what is coming! We are not going to hide. We are not going to run. You can go and cower under the bed, but the rest of the King's guardsmen are going to try and defend our land." Filled with righteous rage, Roghaar of Tarquis left the palace with the other brave guardsmen and went over to the town square. He asked Loudmouth to announce to the good citizens of Simarrah to "all gather in the Palace grounds if possible, or to at least get indoors until this danger has passed."

A few minutes later, the hundred thundering Gorgoths stomped into the palace grounds. The Simarrahns froze with fear at the sight of the ugly, slobbering giants. Effortlessly picking up a few Simarrahns, the Gorgoths playfully tossed them around, laughing at the humans' screams. The rowdy army was quite out of control until Lord Dreath held up his hand for silence, and roared - "We have come here for a purpose. We are here to help Queen Afritha become immortal. Obey my orders, O Gorgoth scum, or face my wrath, and the wrath of your Queen!" Grumbling and scowling, the Gorgoths stopped menacing the crowd.

King Shoarib stepped forward bravely. "Who are you, oh strangers, and why have you come to Simarrah? We have no treasure to offer you, and no derim. We are a peaceful people and have no fight with your Queen or anybody else."

"We have come here for one of your citizens. Hand him over, and we will leave. Try to protect him, and be prepared to invoke the wrath of Afritha, daughter of Ahrimn." Lord Dreath answered, his deep growl as menacing as his appearance. Hearing Ahrimn's name, the Simarrahns huddled together in fear.

"Who do you want, and why?" asked the King.

"Oh, nobody important. Just the young man Vhari."

Vhari and his family gasped! Old Bayrod put his arm protectively around his son. Quinran was terrified. "What trouble have you gotten into this time, Vhari?"

"Nothing mother, nothing at all! I swear it!" her son answered, completely astonished.

"And why do you want this young man?" asked the King.

"That is what our Queen desires, and we are here to do her bidding."

"Take him!" shouted Captain Mordross. "Take him and leave!"

The crowd let out a gasp! Roghaar stepped out and bravely defended his friend, "No! We are not going to let these strangers take Vhari, or anybody else. We will die to the last man before we allow these creatures to dictate to us!"

"I agree completely with my loyal guardsman" said King Shoarib.

The good people of Simarrah were divided on this issue. Half of them, especially the pompous old men that Vhari had annoyed, wanted to get rid of the monsters any which way, even if it meant giving up Vhari - which to them was just a happy bonus! The other half was ready to fight this menace instead of meekly handing over one of their own.

"As King of Simarrah, I refuse to hand over any of my subjects to your Queen. Please convey my sincerest apologies to her".

In an instant two giant Gorgoths held King Shoarib down while a third held a wicked looking, razor sharp sword to his throat. "Wrong answer", growled Lord Dreath. "And now, you are no longer King of Simarrah! I take over this land in the name of Queen Afritha." And he ordered the Gorgoths to chain the hapless king in the dungeons. The rest of the Royal Family would be placed under house arrest in the palace. "And believe me, I am being very kind and gracious to you all", said Lord Dreath. "My Gorgoth devils would love to devour every last living creature in Simarrah, right down to the carcass and bones should I allow it."

Roghaar of Tarquis let out an angry roar, and called out to the guards to fight and defend the King's honour.

"One step from any of you, and your King and his entirely family will be put to death in front of your very loyal eyes. And it will be a very slow and painful death I assure you" said Lord Dreath eyeing Roghaar with contempt. "And now I appoint your Captain as Chief Counsellor of Simarrah." Dreath was a very good judge of character, and had immediately sensed Mordross' corrupt nature.

Captain Mordross though very surprised, was very pleased at this turn of events. He stepped forward with an ingratiating smile and bowed low before Lord Dreath.

"I appoint you Captain Mordross to rule Simarrah as Chief Counsellor in the name of Queen Afritha" said Dreath.

And that is how King Shoarib of Simarrah lost his throne to the cowardly Mordross.

"Now" said Lord Dreath, "hand Vhari over to me, and we shall leave your land."

"There he is" pointed Mordross; "take him".

"Noooooo" shouted Quinran, holding on to her son. "No, no, no" cried out his little sister. Bayrod stood in front of his son, sword in hand, shielding him from the two ferocious Gorgoths who advanced menacingly towards them. One of the monsters simply snapped the old man's back and tossed him aside. The other grabbed Vhari by the scruff, and dragged him away from his family.

"Leave my brother alone..." Vhari's brave younger sister tried to stop the Gorgoth. "Oh, I love children" grinned the loathsome creature, and grabbed her, "they are so tasty!"

A voice from amidst the crowd shouted "Leave her alone you monsters!" A beautiful young woman ran out and pulled the little girl away from the Gorgoth. "Oh well, you will make a prettier corpse", laughed the monster, and right there and then, snapped the woman's neck as easily as you or I could snap a fishbone.

Zaeve cried out in white fury as he watched his pregnant wife ruthlessly killed by the hideous monster. He had tried to run after her, but the townspeople had very firmly held him back. Raisya had run out too quickly for them to stop her, but they would not let go of Zaeve. He kicked and screamed and flailed, trying to free himself from their grasp, but they held on to him very, very tightly. A heart wrenching cry tore out from the very depths of his being! He screamed and screamed and screamed.... a soundless soul consuming scream... And fell down unconscious!

Lord Dreath and his army led poor bewildered Vhari yelling and kicking furiously, back to the shore where the Krilrexes were waiting. A furious Roghaar tried to attack them along with the other guards, but to no avail. The Gorgoths just picked up the tiny humans, and laughing and jeering, flung them back at the crowd.

In no time at all, the unwelcome visitors along with Vhari had left the shores of Simarrah.

Captain Mordross, now Chief Counsellor Mordross issued his second command as the new ruler of Simarrah. "Take Roghaar into the dungeons and make sure he never leaves. Let him rot there until he dies." The frightened citizens blindly obeyed him, scared of what might happen to them if they did not. They never wanted to see Lord Dreath or the Gorgoths ever again.

### Roghaar

As usual, young Roghaar woke up late from his nap, and grabbing his clothes, dressed hurriedly, buttoning his shirt as he ran to report for duty.

Roghaar, first-born son of Lord Tarquis was one of the king's Royal Guardsmen. He had followed seven generations of Tarquis men in service to the Royal Family. Of course, Simarrah was a very peaceful kingdom these days, but it was told that in the days of the horrific Zorkas Wars, Roghaar's great grandfather had single-handedly slain the powerful dragon Orzok with the mighty sword Dragobas! The legendary blacksmith Kron had forged Dragobas from precious dwarfish metal, using Faerie magick, and the magnificent sword was now proudly displayed in the Great Hall at Tarquis Manor.

Nowadays, although Simarrah did not have a proper army, the king did have a group of elite ceremonial guards. The guards paraded in the Palace Grounds, very smart in their purple and silver uniforms; they accompanied King Shoarib and his queen during their public appearances, and they policed the town on their magnificent horses. Roghaar cut a very dashing figure - young, blond, handsome, with naughty twinkling eyes! Everybody loved his cheeky grin and quick wit.

Roghaar did not want to be late reporting to the Captain. Captain Mordross was known to be very quick in handing out outrageously nasty punishments for the smallest infraction, and right now the last thing Roghaar wanted was for Mordross to find out that he had overslept – yet again!

Phew! He made it just in time. The Captain gave the young guard a sour look - he was truly disappointed that Roghaar had not been late. Mordross was just itching for a reason to have him scrub the rubbish bins in the kitchen of the Guards' quarters. Or clean up after the guardsmen's horses. Mordross' wife had been praising Roghaar quite a lot lately, and the Captain was looking for any excuse to squash the young man.

Now, thanks to the unsettling events in Simarrah, Roghaar was shoved unceremoniously into the dark dungeons under the palace. And a triumphant, vengeful Mordross had become the ruler of Simarrah!

### ZAEVE

Zaeve spent his days in a world of shadow - a world so dark and bleak, and layered in unbearable loneliness, that he was lost in its depths. He could not live, he did not die. He just existed.

Zaeve was a very beautiful young man, with soft brown curls, serious but smiling eyes, and slim, artistic hands. He created the most magical music with his lute. He played haunting melodies that seemed to come from deep within his soul - melodies that made you yearn for something bigger and better than the mundane, something pure, something perfect. His songs came from the stars and the seas, and the heavens above, and from the spirit within.

But most evenings in the Seven Seas Alehouse, after the day's work was done, and the Simarrahns gathered for their mug of ale and gossip, Zaeve played the loudest, foot stomping, fist thumping, hand clapping, rickrack dancing, tip tapping, rip-roaring music for the young people to dance to! Which they did - right until old Gillin the barkeep chased them out at dawn so he could get some sleep.

Zaeve had been orphaned at the very young age of two, and had been brought up by an ancient great-aunt. Although she loved him a lot, she was no fun to play with - most times she just nodded off right in the middle of a game. Since she was totally paranoid about Zaeve's safety, he was not allowed to go to the playground and run wild with the other kids. Young Zaeve grew up in solitude in the huge house. Even his imaginary friends grew bored and disappeared!

On Zaeve's seventh birthday, the old lady presented him with a beautiful lute \- a gift that changed Zaeve's life forever! Zaeve never felt lonely as long as he could play his music. He spent his days composing amazing melodies, pouring out his heart in the beautiful music he created.

Zaeve grew up a shy and serious young man, much loved by the townspeople. They were delighted when beautiful, lively Raisya fell in love with the sensitive musician, and filled his life with laughter and happy times. Zaeve was never lonely again.

He and his lovely Raisya had been married just over a year, and when she told him she was pregnant with their first child, his happiness was complete. He vowed his child would grow up surrounded by lots of love and laughter and music!

And now, Afritha's repulsive Gorgoths had destroyed his happiness forever.

The kind people of Simarrah felt his pain, and took him home and cared for him as best they could. But try as they would, they could not shake him out of his stupor. He was lost in numbing shadowy darkness, and they just could not reach him there. Zaeve knew he was lost when the music in his soul died. He knew how badly he was lost when he realised he did not even care!

The only thing that kept Zaeve alive, kept him going, was the desire to destroy Mordross - the traitor who had allowed his wife and child to be killed. Only when that was done would he allow himself the luxury of joining his family.

With this one thought and nothing else in mind, Zaeve walked like a man in a trance, a dagger concealed under his cloak, towards the Royal Palace where Mordross now lived. Death seemed too easy a punishment for for the new Counsellor. Zaeve wanted Mordross to suffer as he was suffering, to know a loss as deep, as unendurable as his – to make devastating loneliness Mordross' constant companion. Naturally Zaeve would never kill the Chief Counsellor's family as his had been killed. And anyway, Mordross was too selfish, much too full of himself to be greatly affected by the loss of his wife and children.

With mind and heart as empty as the pristine sands on the shores of Simarrah, he went to the palace, and walked directly into the Great Hall. Nobody stopped him as none of Mordross' guards expected any trouble from the empty shell that was all that remained of the Simarrahn musician.

Pulling out his dagger, he made straight for the Counsellor....

"Yurich, look out! He has a dagger" the guard standing behind Mordross shouted out.

Yurich, one of Mordross' guards who was standing close to Zaeve immediately flung himself on the musician, and removed the dagger from his hand in a instant. 'What a stupid thing to do', thought Yurich, who had always enjoyed Zaeve's music, and had always liked and respected the musician. 'Doesn't he realise how well Mordross is guarded?'

Immediately, Mordross' other guards closed in on the hapless Zaeve, and held him down firmly while Mordross viciously kicked him over and over again in the abdomen. Zaeve welcomed the pain as he waited for death.

'I am so sorry Raisya', he thought as he curled up in agony. 'I have not been able to avenge you and our child, but in just a few moments, I shall be with you both. Peace at last!'

"Stop! Stop!" shouted Yurich, truly upset. Surely everybody realised that Zaeve was crazy with anguish over his lost family. "Enough! There is no need to beat him senseless. Zaeve is completely harmless, as we all know."

Mordross paused in his uncontrolled blood lust, and looked at Yurich with contempt.

"Anybody who dares threaten me deserves to die!" he exclaimed. "I do not care who he is - musician or soldier. He pays for his defiance with his life."

"Let me take Zaeve to the dungeon instead, my Lord" one of the other guards quickly and quietly ushered him out of Mordross' presence.

Yurich, not able to stand Mordross' cruelty anymore, flung his sword on the floor and walked out of the Palace.

Yurich had grown up poor - dirt poor. His mother cleaned other people's houses all day, and sewed clothes for the rich ladies all night. His father worked hard in the fields for a mere pittance, although his back hurt and his bones ached.

"I am going to make something of myself" he promised them. "I shall give you all the comforts you deserve."

As soon as he was old enough, Yurich joined the King's Royal Guardsmen. He bought a decent home for his parents, and made sure they lacked nothing.

"May the gods bless you son", his father would say as Yurich set out for the Palace each day.

"Oooh, how handsome you look in your smart uniform" his mother would say as she made him breakfast, fussing over his buttons and collar as mothers generally do.

They were both very proud of their son.

Then came the day that Lord Dreath thundered into Simarrah and handed the kingdom over to Mordross. Mordross immediately dismissed the king's Royal Guardsmen, and hired new guards who would be loyal to him.

Much as he disliked Mordross, Yurich decided to work for him. He had to earn enough money to keep his parents in comfort in their old age. But each day he saw just how cruel and vicious Mordross really was, and the Counsellor's treatment of poor unhappy Zaeve was the final straw. Yurich just could not work for this degenerate tyrant any more.

As Yurich walked out of the Palace, Mordross ordered, "Throw Yurich in the dungeon as well. He can no longer be trusted. The prisons of Simarrah are finally going to be put to good use."

### YAHNNI

Despair hung like a heavy, black cloud over Simarrah. Deceit and intrigue made their home in the once happy, peaceful kingdom. Corruption and greed were rife in the land. The new ruler Mordross was the most corrupt of all. Queen Afritha had sent over some of her most dangerous minions to help him govern Simarrah, and none dared oppose Mordross' authority.

Strange evil creatures lurked in dark shadows, striking terror in the hearts of the people. Some Simarrahns joined forces with Mordross hoping to gain fortune and Afritha's favour; some joined him out of fear of Afritha's wrath. The unspoken threat of Afritha's immense power always hung in the air.

But worst of all was the vile change in the Temple of the Faithful. No longer did the priests worship the happy, benevolent gods of Simarrah. The Temple of the Faithful was now the Altar of Ahrimn, the evil, satanic deity worshipped by Afritha.

Each night, the high priest and his fellow priests and priestesses performed horrific demonic rituals that required human sacrifice, pacts with strange unholy creatures, and occultist practises involving blood and entrails! Their faces soon reflected the terrible, evil religion they embraced. The high priest now looked more and more like a demon himself as he offered worship to Ahrimn on the altar in the most depraved manner.

Yahnni the Acolyte was horrified and furious! The usually gentle young man had had enough! There was no way he would participate or even assist in the worship of Ahrimn. Although he was just a lowly acolyte, he refused to obey his superiors in their unholy religion.

Yahnni always knew, right from when he was a young boy, that one day he would serve the generous gods of Simarrah in the Temple of the Faithful. His father Ranbol was High Priest and often took his only son to the Temple with him. Yahnni had six sisters who delighted in making their brother's life impossible – they teased him incessantly, hid his clothes, and served him ridiculously impossible food like liver cake and sardine ice-cream. Their friends would come over and gaggle at him and giggle at him, making him blush with embarrassment and anger.

His mother often left his oldest sister in charge as she had to take care of his grandma Tiklin, who 'enjoyed' bad health and needed constant attention.

Yahnni spent hours in the Temple grounds, just to get away from the craziness at home, revelling in the peace and tranquility he felt in the white marble courtyard. His father taught him everything about the gods and temple rituals, and Yahnni longed for the day he would join the priesthood.

On his sixteenth birthday, Yahnni offered his services as an acolyte at the Temple. It was the lowest position in the priesthood, but Yahnni was thrilled to be accepted. An acolyte's day began well before the sun rose so that all would be ready for the priests when they performed the Sunrise Ceremony. Each day at sunrise, the High Priest, along with the other priests and priestesses invoked the pantheon of gods that Simarrah worshipped for blessings on their beloved land. And Yahnni had to make sure that everything required for the ceremony was at hand. Fresh lilies, with the early morning dew still on them had to be collected and placed on well-polished silver trays. The ceremonial goblet made of rare pink pearls had to be filled with the nectar of pink roses. The silver pentagram where the ceremony would be conducted had to be swept clean with a broom made of freshly plucked willow wands. And the young acolyte was responsible for all these tasks.

Yahnni loved his work at the Temple, and was a favourite among the other priests and priestesses who had come to rely on the conscientious young acolyte for everything. Ranbol too was very much loved by his congregation, being a very kind and caring minister to his flock – one who gave his time and energy to make sure the gods and the people of Simarrah were well cared for and happy!

Yahnni was a shy, sweet young man, with a very charming smile. He was always eager to serve the priests in their important task of keeping the gods happy. For if the gods were happy, they would shower Simarrah with benevolence and prosperity. Yahnni was glad to play his little part in taking care of the land and people he loved. And in turn the people of Simarrah loved their gentle, cheerful acolyte. The older ladies kept him well supplied with an endless amount of fresh buns and warm pies, hand woven cloaks and woolly socks. Young girls of marriageable age made sure to show up at the temple dressed in their Sunday best, looking sweet and demure. Fathers wished their bratty young sons would grow up to be decent young men like Yahnni.

But once Afritha laid claim to Simarrah, everything changed at the Temple of the Faithful. Being a very cunning and conniving woman, she knew she had to first gain control over the Temple in order to exert influence over Simarrah's citizens. She sent for the most beautiful priestess of the Altar of Ahrimn in all of Haddeza.

"Lokiz" she said to her, "I have a very important task for you. You are to go to Simarrah, and using your wiles along with the magic I shall teach you, turn the High Priest and the other members of the priesthood to the worship of Ahrimn. Destroy the gods of Simarrah completely, and let the people realise that Ahrimn rules supreme!"

"As you command, my Queen" bowed Lokiz. Making her preparations, she left for Simarrah.

It was surely an evil day when Lokiz arrived in Simarrah. Afritha's minions had taken over the land, but the Temple was still a welcome refuge for the scared and worried people. Ranbol conforted them, and through their prayers and rituals, the good citizens left the Temple with much needed peace and solace in their heart. Yahnni was so very proud of his father who had created an oasis of tranquility in this damaged land!

Then Lokiz arrived like a deadly plague! With sweet words, and gifts, and promises, and a bit of Afritha's deadly magic, she slowly turned Ranbol's head and his heart.

The very first night, Yahnni, reading quietly in a corner of the Temple grounds, saw Lokiz dressed in robes of blood red satin, a demonic mask covering her face, walking over every square inch of the Temple, all the while wailing in eerie moans that made Yahnni's blood curdle! The next instant, she was joined by an enormous hairy, black beast – part wolf, part demon, and as big as a bear. Yahnni had never seen a more grotesque animal in all his life. The unholy pair made for the altar, where the beast slobbered all over the sacred ground, making it utterly profane. Then the brute made for the Temple Grounds, howling loud and long into the night, sending cold chills of dread down Yahnni's spine. What if the beast discovered him? The animal sniffed in Yahnni's direction, paused, and with a sly sneer on its face turned away. 'It knows I am here', thought Yahnni. 'Oh gods, please save me!'

Apparently, Yahnni's presence was of no importance to the creature, who after a few more howls and threatening growls, disappeared into the dark night.

Lokiz emerged from the Temple, scattering a mysterious grey powder around the Temple walls. Then tying a profusion of tiny knots in threads as fine as gossamer, all the while muttering under her breath, she created a web of blasphemous magic. Finally, she tied these threads to every doorway leading to the Inner Temple.

After this ritual, the very air in the Temple seemed to change! At times Yahnni felt almost suffocated when he entered the Inner Temple, and longed to get away. But the moment Lokiz set foot in the room, his heart felt happy and excited. He felt immense joy – an uplifting of his spirits! Yahnni understood this was part of the cunning priestesses' magic, and prayed hard to his gods to save him from her spell.

The other priests and priestesses, feeling the vitality and thrill of Lokiz' presence, paid no heed to young Yahnni when he tried to caution them.

"Oh great Ranbol" Yahnni once overheard Lokiz speaking to his father, "you are the most important man in all of Simarrah. Truly your people look to you for guidance and help. The gods of Simarrah are weak and useless. Ahrimn will give you the power you need to keep your land safe. Ahrimn will bestow on you enormous authority to rule this beautiful realm."

"But Ahrimn is the Lord of Darkness, and the antithesis of the benevolent, kindly gods of Simarrah" answered Ranbol. "He will desecrate my temple and my land with baseness and corruption."

"Oh my dear dear Ranbol" Lokiz smiled sweetly at the hapless High Priest. "Look at me! I am a priestess at the Altar of Ahrimn. Do I look evil to you? Or vile? Or malevolent? This is a wicked calumny that has been spread about my lord. While he is merciless to his enemies, he is extremely compassionate and kind to his worshippers."

Seeing Ranbol's hesitation, she continued, "Worship Ahrimn, and he will give you power beyond your dreams! Your authority in the Temple will be absolute. I have seen how some of the priests are disobedient, even insolent with you at times. Accept Ahrimn as your lord, and none shall dare oppose you in any way!

"You, my dear Ranbol", she whispered breathily, "will be the most powerful, most dominant man in all of Simarrah. And I love powerful men" she smiled at him.

And slowly but surely, Ranbol and the others were introduced to the worship of the Lord of Darkness. Yahnni, through fervent prayer and ritual, was not swayed so easily by Lokiz except when in her presence. He refused to look directly at her, or listen to her honeyed words. Much to Yahnni's utter frustration, within a few short weeks, the Temple of the Faithful became the Altar of Ahrimn.

His father was a changed man who no longer recognised his son. He no longer cared about his family, nor his flock, but devoted all his time to Lokiz and Ahrimn. He was the most influential man in Mordross' court, and even Mordross was terrified of him and obeyed him without argument.

Yahnni hated Ahrimn and Afritha with black rage!

One evening as High Priest Ranbol led the other priests and priestesses in the Celebration of Blood Ceremony, Yahnni could bear it no longer. The members of the temple had covered their bodies in blood from freshly slaughtered pigs, and hands raised in rapture, chanted - "O mighty Ahrimn, accept our sacrifice! Allow us into thy chosen circle. We worship at thy feet. We offer the sacrifice of Flowing Blood. We offer the sacrifice of Black Death. Grant us the Power of thy Darkness!"

Filled with immense loathing, Yahnni got up his courage, and interrupted the ugly ritual. "O priests and preachers of Simarrah, why do you serve the demon Ahrimn instead of our own beloved, benevolent gods? Why do you blacken your souls with this evil abomination? Give up this abhorrent religion. Save your once beautiful land before it is forever cursed! Abandon the desecration of this temple! Abandon the desecration of your souls! Abandon the evil Ahrimn and Afritha."

The furious High Priest advanced menacingly towards Yahnni dagger in hand, loudly chanting "O Ahrimn, a human sacrifice for thee! Drink his blood and smile upon us! He that insults thee will be killed!" And with the twisted blade he tried to rip open Yahnni's belly. The other priests circled Yahnni, bloodlust in their glazed eyes. "Blood! Blood! Blood!" they chanted.

"Father!..." gasped a horrified Yahnni.

"I am not your father, Yahnni. He who disobeys Ahrimn and his priest is no son of mine!" Ranbol's eyes were glazed with loathing and anger.

The terrified acolyte barely managed to escape the evil temple, and ran and hid in the dark, shadowy woods beyond. A furious Ranbol then made his way to the Royal Palace where he asked Counsellor Mordross to hunt down the hapless young man and have him beheaded. "Only his blood will appease Ahrimn", Ranbol warned.

The dark blanket of night spread over Simarrah, and Yahnni, tired and terrified, tried hard to think where he could go. His father was as a stranger to him. Worse actually, since he wanted to murder his own son!

Suddenly from the shadows, "Yahnni, come follow me", a young guardsman whispered. "Mordross has signed a warrant for your execution! Follow me, so we can hide you." With this, the brave young guard led Yahnni out of the woods by a hidden path to the safest place in Simarrah – the overflowing dungeons!

### IN THE DUNGEONS

The dungeons of Simarrah were packed with Mordross' enemies. Righteous, decent people who hated the corrupt Counsellor and his cohorts were thrown into the dungeons, while the real criminals roamed freely through the streets of the kingdom.

The good people of Simarrah did all they could to care for the prisoners - slipping them food and medicine, pillows and blankets. Most of the guards were still loyal to King Shoarib, and it was only their fear of the wicked Afritha, and the horrific punishments and torture inflicted by her governors in Simarrah that kept them silent. They helped the prisoners in many ways, albeit very very secretly. Mordross' secret agents were everywhere - every wall had ears, every dark corner hid a pair of spying eyes. Nobody was safe from the vengeful Counsellor.

In one of the darkest, deepest corners of the dungeon lay the crazy old hermit Firdoz. For years he had wandered the streets of Simarrah mumbling and muttering about a great doom that was coming, exhorting the good people to save themselves before it was too late. He looked very peculiar, always dressed in a long threadbare coat that almost reached his ankles, wide trousers held up with suspenders, and soft furry boots on his feet. A long silver chain hung from his waist and disappeared into his pocket, but nobody had ever seen a pocket-watch or anything else on the other end. He wore his hair in seven neat, long braids. His beard, white and silky, was braided up as well, and he had a weird habit of incessantly chewing on it, especially when he appeared to be deep in thought! Tiny sparrows always accompanied the old man, fluttering around his head. He was often seen having long conversations with them, his head cocked to one side, much like a little bird himself, as he pondered deeply on their discourse. He seemed quite daft, and silly young lads often followed him around and teased him, as silly lads are wont to do. But the Simarrahns, kind people that they were, always made sure he was well fed and had a roof over his head at night. Everybody knew that mad men were favoured by the gods, and Simarrah was very proud and protective of its own mad hermit!

Although he appeared completely harmless, Mordross had had him imprisoned when the old man went around Simarrah screaming about the evil doings of Afritha. Even in the dungeons, the old man kept muttering and praying in a very strange language, and would wake up shaking violently as if from some unseen terror. The other prisoners did their best to keep him calm and comfortable.

Hiding in the dungeon, Yahnni continued invoking the merciful gods of Simarrah for help through this evil time.

"O young man, why do ask help from those that can give you none?" a deep voice enquired from behind him.

Turning around, Yahnni was shocked to see that it was old Firdoz! The crazy old man was speaking in a clear and powerful voice, while previously he used to only mutter and mumble.

"What do you mean?" asked Yahnni. "Our benevolent gods have always blessed this land, and now they will help us vanquish the evil Afritha and Ahrimn."

"Aah, but things are different now. Ahrimn is extremely powerful - invited by your own priests to creep into the very heart of Simarrah. Beware the night of terror that is to come! The prophecy will soon be upon us, and unless we can prevent it, Ahrimn will reign supreme and Afritha become immortal!"

"What prophecy old man?" asked one of the prisoners, "what are you talking about?"

"O prisoners of Simarrah! Gather around and listen to my words. Gather around and hear the truth. Fear the day when every babe will learn the worship of Ahrimn at his mother's breast. I have been sent to Simarrah for a very special purpose, and now the time has come." Firdoz seemed a changed man; vibrant, alive, and in charge - although he still chewed on his beard.

The prisoners slowly collected around old Firdoz.

"Listen carefully good people of Simarrah, to what I have to say. At the time of the Great Making, Ahur the True God created all the worlds. He then appointed Zartos King of Faerie as ruler over all the realms. In response, Ahrimn the Evil created Afritha. Thus began the dance for power between the forces of Good and the forces of Evil! The wicked witch Afritha lusted for immortality, and finally Jaduvan the most powerful magician in all the worlds, enthralled by Afritha's incomparable beauty, magicked a most powerful magic to help her gain her desire. Fortunately for the worlds, the spell was not completely successful, and Ahur imprisoned Jaduvan in the Cavern of Dark Deceptions, deep in the fiery belly under all the worlds, and thus limited the power of his magic.

But Ahrimn, offered his daughter an alternate solution - if Afritha eats the living heart of a true prince of Faerie on the Night of the Moons, when for just a few minutes the six moons of Haddeza are perfectly aligned, she will gain immortality, be invincible, and will claim all the worlds under her rule. The six moons of Haddeza will be perfectly aligned for a period of six minutes after six Haddezan days, which is roughly a month in Simarrah. On this fateful day, so the prophecy goes, either Afritha will rule immortal and all-powerful over all the realms, or she could be destroyed forever. We must stop her! If she succeeds, all the worlds will be devoured evermore by death, destruction, and unbearable desolation. Love and charity and kindness will be buried deep in cold and lonely graves. Black, icy, unending night will freeze the soul, and the heads of babes will turn hoary with anguish!"

"But what can we do to stop her? And what has Vhari to do with all this?" asked a young prisoner.

Firdoz huddled under the spread of the shady mucklemore tree to escape the scorching heat of the summer afternoon. Proth was a land of heat and more heat, and Firdoz was quite uncomfortable, especially after the heavy meal he had just eaten. Nervously chewing on his beard, he wondered why Henkriel the Wizard had suddenly summoned him – and with such urgency!

His stomach rumbled uneasily. 'Really, at my age, I need to stop eating these heavy, rich meals', he thought. 'Oh well, I can start watching what I eat after I leave Proth. After all, Proth is really famous for its sumptuous pies, and I am probably here for only a couple of days at most. And it would be very insulting to the kind people here if I refused their generosity.'

Firdoz was a very strange man indeed. Nobody knew who he was, or where he came from, or how old he was. He lived like a hermit, roaming through different realms, showing up whenever evil reared its ugly head. He somehow always managed to be in the right place at the right time, and always helped vanquish the Forces of Darkness. Then he was gone as suddenly as he had appeared. He was a kindly if strange old man, and wherever he went, people always welcomed him. Most people thought he was barking mad, and therefore much favoured by the gods.

Just as the heat was getting unbearably oppressive, Firdoz saw a silver chariot led by two pitch black horses coming his way. Shading his eyes with his hand as he chewed on his beard, he tried to see if it was Henkriel arriving to keep their appointment.

"Are you Firdoz the hermit?" asked a young lad alighting from the chariot.

"Yes, that is me. And who might you be?" enquired Firdoz.

"I have been sent by Henkriel. Please come with me." And he helped the old man aboard.

Travelling through miles and miles of open fields edged with thorny shrubs blooming with the most gorgeous pink flowers Firdoz had ever seen, the chariot finally arrived in the town. Firdoz smiled. It had been a long time since he had been in the bazaars of Proth. Narrow, twisting lanes filled with little stalls and shops selling everything imaginable, from toys to tobacco, clothes to candles, rugs to chariots, with the entire place reeking of the heavenly smells of heavily spiced food, and sickly sweet sweets! Firdoz inhaled the exotic smells and took in the sights and sounds of the hordes of people out in the streets. They jibbered and they jabbered and they bargained incessantly over every penny! Firdoz loved Proth.

Soon the chariot stopped in front of a doorway covered by a black velvet curtain. They had arrived!

The lad escorted Firdoz to a cool marble courtyard where Grand Wizard Henkriel was waiting for him near a small pond of crystal clear water.

Grand Wizard Henkriel had had an extremely colourful past. Born in the slums of Proth, Henkriel wanted a better life than his father's tiny little tea stall provided. Their little family although very happy, lived in the shabbiest hovel, and could barely afford anything other than the simplest food. He and his brothers and sisters wore other people's hand-me downs, and lived by their wits - running errands for other shopkeepers, carrying bags and boxes for the rich ladies who spent more money in one day than Henkriel had ever seen in all his life, trying to attract thirsty shoppers to their shabby little tea stall. Henkriel knew he had to get out of this miserable existence as quickly as possible.

When he was seven years old, he started telling fortunes in the narrow bazaar alleys. His angelic smile and charming manners got him many customers. He soon became a familiar sight in the bazaar, in his tattered robe of faded red satin that was so long he kept tripping over it, an old discarded hat not even good enough for the used clothes stall, that was so huge it flopped over half his face, and earrings in the shape of the moon and stars made by his brother out of an old piece of tin that he proudly wore believing they made him look very mysterious, even though they kept infecting his ears!

The little fortune teller soon became very popular. "The goddess of love has blessed you", he would say to the young ladies. "I see a very handsome and successful husband standing behind you. By your side are many fine children, all of whom will make you proud. You will live in a grand mansion with lots of servants, and be loved till the end of your days."

"The breath of the dragon swirls around you. I foresee profitable adventures in an exotic distant land" he would tell hopeful young men who hung around the bazaar looking for work.

But his best customers were the merchants who came to the bazaars to sell their wares. "Ah great Sir" he would say. "The god of wealth is smiling at you. You are going to be extremely successful and wealthy. I see your business prosper, and money raining upon you. I see mansions and carriages and a high position in society for you." And they would shower him with many senks for his wisdom!

One day, Mistress Trinzo, bored after shopping continuously for three hours, approached Henkriel. She was a very plain middle aged lady, who had lost her one and only suitor. Everybody in the bazaar knew Mistress Trinzo as she spent her entire day in the bazaar telling her story to anybody who would listen.

"Ah, I was engaged to be married to the most wonderful gentleman" she would say; "until that nasty trollop Mistress Finkly came along and stole him from me."

Now one day, Henkriel had not attracted any customers, and was about to return home empty handed when he saw Mistress Trinzo. Deciding he could earn a few senks from her, he approached her.

"Ah madam" he whispered, pretending to be in a deep trance. "I see the goddess of love turn away from another, and come towards you. She promises you will be married to the man of your dreams by the end of this month." Henkriel was truly desperate that day!

"Oh my dear boy, how can that be? My Torrko is to wed that terrible Mistress Trinzo within ten days."

"Never fear, madam" replied Henkriel. "The goddess always rewards the faithful."

"Ah, bless you, young man" and smiling happily, Mistress Trinzo pressed many senks into Henkriel's palm.

A week later, Mistress Trinzo approached Henkriel, fire in her eyes! "You!" she pointed at him. "You fake! You devil! You promised me Torrko would be mine. But tomorrow he weds my rival! You are nothing but a cheat and a liar!"

She then started screaming and yelling at him so loudly, a crowd soon gathered around them.

"Smack this little scoundrel" she screeched, jumping up and down in agitation. "He is nothing but a dirty street urchin! Fortune teller? Ha!"

The crowd was enjoying all this drama. A couple of the tougher lads looked ready to beat Henkriel to a pulp, and have fun doing it!

Henkriel shut his eyes, and concentrated as hard as he could. He knew he had to create some diversion before the crowd egged on the lads to beat him up. Pretending to go into a trance, he started chanting very mysteriously – gibberish, in a very peculiar tone, and began shaking and shivering violently in front of the startled crowd.

"Go home Mistress" he intoned in a strange hollow roar. "The word of the goddess shall come to pass. Have faith, have faith, have faith...." He concluded in a hoarse whisper.

The people were taken aback, as was Mistress Trinzo. Henkriel then pretended to come out of his trance, and looked around dazed. "What happened?" he asked very innocently.

The crowd just melted away, and with a sigh of relief, Henkriel made his way home.

"Best not show your face in the bazaar for a while" his brother told him.

That night sleep eluded Henkriel. He lay awake, thinking about Mistress Trinzo. How wonderful it would be if somehow Torrko married her, he thought. A strange prickly sensation came over him, and he just could not stop thinking about the marriage, and his mind took him through the event – deeper and deeper and deeper.

Next evening, Henkriel heard a great commotion outside his hovel where he had been hiding all day. His sister came running. "Henkriel, some people are looking for you" she said.

' _Oh no! They have found me', thought Henkriel. 'That Torrko has married Mistress Trinzo's rival, and now Mistress Trinzo is out for my blood.'_

Henkriel was cornered. There was only one way out of their dwelling, and that was blocked by the mob. Mustering his courage, he made his way to the shabby curtain that served as a door, and stepped outside.

"There he is! There is my little marvel", Mistress Trinzo approached him with a big smile and baskets full of gifts. "You were right, young man" she said. "Today my Torrko called off his wedding to that little... oh well, for no reason at all" she laughed. "And he showed up at my door with this ring and a marriage proposal! Truly you must be a great sorcerer, favoured by the gods!"

Henkriel pondered upon this for a long long time, and decided to test himself. He had to know whether he had been the direct cause of Mistress Trinzo's changed luck. He tried to concentrate on a new dress for his mother. Soon he felt a strange tingle run through his body, and his mind went deeper into his desire, until he fell almost unconscious. And to his great astonishment, the very next day, the rich lady his mother worked for presented her with a brand new dress - much to everybody's astonishment, especially her own, since the lady was generally quite stingy, and had never given anybody a present – ever!

Slowly Henkriel realised he had a very special gift. He could conjure up things and events with the power of his mind. But unfortunately for him, he could never conjure up anything for himself. He tried and he tried and he tried, but the tingle never appeared, his mind never went deep into his desire. Oh, if only he conjure up a million senks and a grand mansion for himself!

But Henkriel was a very enterprising young man, and soon offered himself as a Wizard for Hire – a Mercenary Magic-Maker!

Anybody could hire Henkriel for the right price. If you wanted to have the mean old woman across the street grow a long beard, you went to Henkriel. If you wanted to win the chariot race, you went to Henkriel. If you wanted your son to get a good job, you went to Henkriel. If you wanted your neighbour's chrysanthemums to wilt, naturally you went to Henkriel.

And soon Henkriel became a very rich young man indeed. He really did not care what he used his powers for, as long as he was handsomely paid.

Then one day, the unthinkable happened – his powers failed!

A young man had paid Henkriel a bundle of senks to turn his rival in love into a snake. But try as he would, Henkriel did not feel the tingle, did not feel anything at all. Desperately, he tried harder and harder - but nothing! Getting more frustrated and worried by the second, Henkriel urged his mind to concentrate, but it was hopeless. Completely disheartened, he reluctantly returned the angry young man's money.

Across the street from his fancy shop of magic, Henkriel noticed a shabby old man watching him intently.

"What are you gaping at, old man?" he shouted, frustrated and angry.

The old man crossed the street and walked up to Henkriel. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Firdoz. I have been keeping an eye on you for a while. On the behest of the Council of the Very Wise..."

"And who might they be?" Henkriel rudely interrupted.

Ignoring his question Firdoz continued, "You my friend have been gifted with very special powers, yet you misuse them. Now you are at a crossroads. Use your powers for good, and they will increase tremendously. Use them for evil, and you will either join the ranks of the devils, or you will lose your gift completely. It is entirely your choice."

"Who are you?" asked Henkriel.

"Who I am is not important" replied the old man. "The Council is very impressed by your natural abilities and feels you have the potential to be one of the most powerful wizards. If you are ready to use your power to help vanquish Evil in all the worlds, the Council would very much like to have you join them. You will be trained in the Craft of Wizardry of course, for you have still much to learn. Think carefully about this my young friend. I shall come for your answer in three days."

Henkriel the Mercenary Magic-Maker heard his destiny calling, and that is how he eventually became Grand Wizard Hankriel, and took his seat on the Council of the Very Wise.

Meeting old Firdoz after so many many years, Henkriel, now one of the most respected members of the Council, thought back to their first meeting, and smiled.

Knowing his friend's love for fine food, he had prepared all of Firdoz's favourite delicacies. Pointing to the table, he said, "Eat my friend, you must be hungry from the journey".

Firdoz's stomach was stuffed, yet his greed got the better of him, and very soon he was gobbling the delicious meat pastries Proth was famous for.

"Why have you summoned me here?" asked Firdoz, once the meal was done, and the men were relaxing and sipping some cooling muckleberry tea.

"Well, as you must be aware the fateful Night of the Moons will be upon us in a few years. Prince Valias' life is in grave danger. His heart is all that stands between Afritha and her quest for immortality. Thankfully, Valias was spirited away to Simarrah before Afrtiha's armies reached Faerie. The lad has been lovingly raised by a Simarrahn family and has absolutely no idea who he is. Neither do his foster parents. You my friend are to go to Simarrah and keep a watchful eye on the young prince. Make sure he is safe, and keep him away from Afritha if you can. She has already started searching every realm for the precious Faerie Prince, and will spare no effort to capture him."

"And what can I do against the mighty Afritha?" queried Firdoz. "I am an old man now, and not very powerful."

"If required, when the time comes, you will have help in Simarrah", replied the wizard, "and that is all I can tell you now."

"Why doesn't the Council of the Very Wise take care of this matter themselves?" asked Firdoz.

"Rest assured we are working behind the scenes to protect Valias, but we have a more important goal. The Council would rather see Afritha destroyed once and for all!"

"Even at the cost of the life of the last living Prince of Faerie?"

"Yes my friend, even at that great cost."

And tossing his cape, Henkriel escorted Firdoz to the waiting chariot.

"So my young friends, now you know why I came to Simarrah", continued the sage. "You see, Vhari is really the last living prince of Faerie. Nineteen years ago Afritha heard about the birth of the prince, and marched with her vicious Gorgoths to Faerie to abduct him. Each Faerie couple can breed only one child, and luckily, King Zartos was able to spirit his new-born son out of Faerie before Afritha got there. Young Vhari is actually Prince Valias, son of Zartos, King of Faerie. I had been sent to Simarrah by the Council of the Very Wise to protect him, but alas I failed. Now we have to get Prince Valias out of Afritha's scheming clutches, and foil her evil plan."

"Our Vhari a prince? How utterly ridiculous!"

"How are you going to defeat Afritha and her Gorgoths, old man?" asked Roghaar. He was always ready for adventure, and this could turn out to be an adventure of epic proportions!

"I am an old man now, so all I can offer is advice. You will have to act. Are you ready to save the worlds from Ahrimn the Evil? Are you prepared to fight Afritha, no matter what the cost?"

"I am certainly more than ready" Yahnni replied very earnestly. "Afritha and her abominable Satan must be destroyed."

"Count me in" said Zaeve. "I am not afraid to die, in fact I long for death. If I die while destroying Afritha and Mordross, I could ask for no nobler death!"

"Finally a worthy task for a guardsman!" said Roghaar. "Of course I will join."

"And I"; "me too"; "count me in", the voices were excited and numerous.

"What is the plan, old man?" asked Roghaar.

"We will first have to collect a huge and powerful army. The only way to enter Afritha's castle is to fight our way in. Since Simarrah has no army, nor powerful weaponry, we shall have to look to the other realms for help.

"Across the Sea of Gramania lies the Kingdom of Rhinlandia. Roghaar of Tarquis, take a few of your fellow guardsmen and go there to Lord Markhone. He commands one of the mightiest armies, and has blood-ties and treaties with other powerful lords in the land. The Rhinaries are the best warriors in all the realms. Ask Lord Markhone for his help. He has always been a good friend to King Shoarib.

"Young Zaeve, go across the Sea of Chimes to the forest realm of Isfandar. This land is inhabited by creatures of the woods - wood fairies, sprites, elves, goblins, and gnomes. Gentle as a rule, they turn dangerously vicious when provoked. Seek aid of their leader Gatimi – his people have often been attacked by Afritha's armies in her search for the Faerie Prince.

"Kyroz, my brave guardsman, sail across the Sea of Shu Tzi Kaar to the temple realm of Lara Kon - home to the invincible Wind Warriors. They train from birth in the Temple of the Wind Goddess, and are said to be most accomplished in the discipline of war. Harnessing the power of the wind, they can glide as silently as a gentle breeze, or twirl as furiously as a typhoon. They can scale the highest walls, and almost fly through the air during combat. I cannot imagine a more desirable ally in this war. However, the Wind Warriors generally keep to themselves, and very seldom leave their realm. Their leader is the Khan Khan, and it will be his decision to aid us - or not. You must do your best to persuade him.

"Akelis, loyal friend to Prince Valias, you must sail across the Sea of Whispers to the arid desert-land of Sar-El-Mash. This kingdom is home to a very strange race. Human by night, they turn into different animals and birds from sunrise to sunset. In their animal avatar, the Mashee will be of immense help against Afritha's monstrous creatures. King Shams is a splendid monarch, and an old friend of mine. I am quite sure he will join us.

But beware the evil enchantment of the Sea of Whispers!

"Xerkis, noble nephew of our good King Shoarib, sail across the Sea of Hope to the mountain land of Kardis. The dwarfs of Kardis make the finest, most powerful weapons. Their weapons are forged from a secret metal, more durable, more powerful, more deadly even, than derim. The dwarves jealously guard their secret metal in their mountain caves, but will gladly sell you weapons and armour - for a pretty price, of course. Since we do not have the gold they will demand for their weapons, persuading them to help us will not be an easy task! Dwarfs love gold more than anything else. But ah! What a magnificent advantage to have an army equipped with Kardian weapons!"

"Then I shall have to make sure we succeed", Xerkis answered very simply.

"All of you must then immediately set sail for Haddeza with your allies and weapons to help Prince Valias destroy Afritha", continued the sage. "Meet up on the shores of Haddeza on the morn of the fifth Haddezan day so you can prepare for battle against Afritha's armies."

"And what about me?" asked Yahnni. "What part do I play in all this?"

"You young Yahnni, will play the most important part of all. You must sail to the very centre of the Sea of Mercury, until you come to a swift white swirl in the water. Invoke the true God Ahur and dive straight into the heart of this vortex. There lies the portal to the Magical Dimension which will lead you to the ancient water kingdom of Donger. In the Great Hall of Donger sleeps the mighty Golden Phoenix, zealously guarded by the Souls of the Dead. Only the pure of heart can cross past these guards and approach the Phoenix. If you should fail, your soul will join the others at the bottom of the sea for all eternity.

Over the very heart of the Golden Phoenix lies a feather most precious. Afritha is almost immortal, and nothing in all the worlds can kill her except for the tip of this precious feather. Without this priceless weapon - this Khanzaar, our entire plan is of no avail. This feather must be plucked very carefully, without disturbing the noble bird's slumber. Should the Phoenix awaken, you will be burned to cinders in an instant.

Your task will be to take the Khanzaar to Haddeza."

"O wise one" said Yahnni, "why don't you perform this most crucial task? Surely you are more virtuous and more experienced than I am. And I have no magical powers."

"Ah young Yahnni, I have led quite the adventurous life in my youth. Alas, I am not pure enough to succeed in this task. I am afraid this will be your burden to carry. Realise my son, that magic is no match for true faith and an honest heart. Nonetheless, extremely powerful magic is required to cross over into the Magical Dimension and pluck the feather from the Phoenix, so you cannot perform this task alone. Luckily, there is one in Simarrah who has power enough to help you."

"And who might that be?" asked a puzzled Yahnni.

"The immensely gifted witch Poppadom Schmuckle!" replied Firdoz.

"Poppadom? Poppadom?" queried a very astonished Roghaar. "Do you mean that sullen little teenager with the weird orange hair, who is always stuffing her face?"

"Yes, that is exactly who I mean" replied Firdoz, nodding his head.

At this, the men darted furtive glances at one another, not sure whether they should take the sage seriously, or whether he was just a crazy old man spinning tall tales.

"No, no, I am not confused and I am not senile", smiled Firdoz. "Believe me, Poppadom Schmuckle is truly one of the most exceptionally talented witches alive. The Council of the Very Wise deemed it prudent to keep her powers secret for fear she may be kidnapped and used by the forces of Evil. She is being trained in her craft by Mother Trumble, a most powerful witch-master."

Firdoz turned to a young prison guard. "Can you bring Mother Trumble to me?" he asked "We have some serious matters to discuss."

"Yes, but it will have to wait until the darkest hours of the night" replied the guard. "Mordross' spies are very active today."

"That will be fine" remarked Firdoz. Then turning back to Yahnni - "my son, you will have one more task to perform before the worlds can be free of evil – a very difficult one to be sure. And that is to make sure that Jaduvan does not escape his bonds and enter the worlds again. Here my child, take my amulet. Keep it upon you at all times. It will act as my eyes and my ears, and as long as you wear it, I shall know exactly what is happening, and will be able guide you. And when the final battle comes, and it surely will, I will be there in spirit to face my arch adversary, the evil sorcerer Jaduvan! Jaduvan is the mightiest and most evil of all magicians, and is imprisoned in the Cavern of Dark Deceptions under all the worlds - secured with six indestructible chains made of Jarasim, a magical metal that cannot be broken or melted. However, on the Night of the Moons, for the six minutes while the six moons of Haddeza are perfectly aligned, Jarasim loses its magic, and if Jaduvan frees his bonds and enters our world, he and Afritha together will wreak havoc so deadly, that all the worlds will be enslaved and bound with misery and terror until the end all time!

Only the power of Ahur can stop Jaduvan from escaping his bonds, and you Yahnni must channel that power during those crucial six minutes."

"How will we get the feather dagger to Vhari?" one of the men asked Firdoz.

"Ah! That will be a most difficult task indeed, for I am sure Afritha will have imprisoned him in a safe area - possibly her dungeon", replied the sage. "One of you will have to get the Khanzaar to Prince Valias in time. You will somehow have to slip into the grounds of Rith Afra while the others engage Afritha's armies in battle. You can be sure that Afritha's castle will be well guarded against any intruders. Her Gorgoths and her Vudrals and her Skrilrexes will attack, fight, and kill anybody who dares try to come close to her castle. That is why my good friends, you will need all the armies and all the allies that you can gather. Keep Afritha's army occupied, so Ahur willing, one of you can slip the feather to Prince Valias in time."

"Leave that task to me Firdoz" spoke Akelis. "It will be my honour and my privilege to carry the precious Khanzaar to our very own Prince."

### Poppadom Schmuckle.

Poppadom Schmuckle was hiding behind the hydrangea bushes, stuffing her face with jam-tarts. Casting furtive glances all around to make sure her sisters were nowhere in sight, she cautiously emerged from her hiding place, strawberry jam dribbling down her chin. Her sisters were really mean about her passion for food. They poked fun at her, and they also poked their slender fingers into her chubby belly. They called her 'fatso' and 'tub of lard', and giggled when her tummy jiggled.

Poppadom was as round and plump as the candied apples she always stuffed in her pockets. Her hair was frizzy and carroty, and formed a spiky orange halo around her heavily freckled face. Everything about young Poppadom was round - right from her round freckled face with its round blue eyes and its round snub nose, to her chubby round toes.

But Poppadom was not just another awkward teenager. What hardly anybody - including her family, knew was that nineteen year old Poppadom Schmuckle was one of the most powerful witches that ever lived! Well, at this point she was more of a witch in training, but as Arniella from the Council of the Very Wise had foreseen, once she learnt to harness her powers, she would be unrivalled. The very day Poppadom turned eighteen, the Council sent old Ma Trumble to train the young witch, and help her attain her full potential.

So it was that early one morning Mrs. Schmuckle answered a knock on her door to find a sweet smiling, grand-motherly lady at her doorstep.

"Good mornin' to you, Mrs. Schmuckle" the visitor cheerfully greeted Poppadom's mother. "I hear you are lookin' for a housekeeper?"

"Weeelll, not really...", answered the lady of the house.

"Ah, but I am sure you could use one? I come highly recommended, and will work for just my room and board. You see, my niece lives in these parts, and I want to be close to her."

Now, with a crabby husband and four difficult daughters, that was an offer Mrs. Schmuckle simply could not refuse, and very gratefully, she allowed Ma Trumble into their lives. Mrs. Schmuckle never regretted this decision. The house was always sparkling clean and neat as a pin, with vases of fresh cut flowers in each room, and the kitchen bursting with the mouth watering aroma of roasting meats and other delicious food. There was absolutely nothing for Mr. Schmuckle to find fault with, and Mrs. Trumble kept a sharp eye on the girls as well.

"I tell you, Ma Trumble is truly heaven-sent", Mrs. Schmuckle boasted to her friends and neighbours. "It is almost magical how she manages the house so perfectly." Well, of course it was magical! Each morning Ma Trumble had the housework out of the way in a jiffy with a simple magic spell that had the brooms sweeping, the mops mopping, the scouring pad scouring the pots and pans, the laundry board scrubbing the clothes, and the kitchen cooking up the most amazing meals! The rest of her time was spent trying to train a reluctant Poppadom in the use of her powers.

Poppadom had always known that she was different from other people, but it was not until she reached puberty that strange things began happening to her. How well she remembered the very first time...

She was standing across the street from Goodbuns' Bakery, watching Moreese, Goodbuns' nephew serving customers on the patio. Moreese was pushing a fancy silver pastry cart loaded with layer after layer of the most amazing cakes Poppadom had ever seen. Little shortbread pastries heaped with fresh cream and topped with juicy red strawberries nestled in delicately lacy paper trays. Tiny little apple tarts glistening with brown sugar scented the air with the most tantalizing fragrance. Gooey chocolate éclairs oozing cream, and jumbo sized cookies studded with almonds and chocolate chunks and raisins almost sang out to her. Poppadom stood drooling over the luscious pastries, when much to her surprise a string of gibberish came into her head, and wafted softly out her mouth. Then the most amazing thing happened! A pretty china plate gently flew over to the pastry cart; an assortment of treats fluttered and settled in it, and in an instant the entire dish landed magically in Poppadom's chubby hand! A minute later the cakes had disappeared in her tummy! No magic required for that....

Amazingly, none of Goodbuns' customers had seen any of this. Only Moreese gaped open-mouthed with shock! He ran to relate the incident to his uncle who gave him a good smack upside his head for his foolishness.

When Poppadom turned sixteen, she tried out her burgeoning magical powers on young Tredony, the handsome Jumpstick player who was every Simarrahn teenage girl's crush. One summer evening, a very puzzled and bewildered Tredony found himself standing outside Poppadom's front door, a bouquet of roses, and an enormous box of chocolate candy in his hands. "These are for you" he stammered to an awkward looking, overly made up Poppadom. After a very uncomfortable evening, with Poppadom acting coy and cute as she had seen her sisters behave, the terrified young man made his escape as quickly as he could. The date had definitely not gone the way Poppadom had imagined it would, and she had never attempted anything like that again....

Ma Trumble spent hours and hours each day, painstakingly teaching the reluctant teenager how to control and use her amazing powers, until both of them collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Poppadom would likely have rebelled against the strict regime, but one thing kept her going. One secret longing - Poppadom Schmuckle longed to be beautiful! Really and truly beautiful! Breathtakingly beautiful! The very first thing she intended to do once she mastered her formidable powers was to magick herself into a gorgeously stunning young lady. That would show her stupid sisters and all the mean girls in town who laughed at her! And if they still jeered, well, she would just magick up some hideously hairy warts on their cute little noses!

### WHERE MA TRUMBLE MEETS FIRDOZ

"Blessings on you, Mother Trumble", Firdoz greeted the lady as she walked into the dungeon.

"And upon you as well", replied the witch-master with a smile. "It is good to see you again, old friend."

"I think you must have some idea why I have summoned you," continued the old sage. "The time has come! The Night of the Moons will soon be upon us, and we cannot defeat Afritha and Jaduvan without young Poppadom's help."

"Yes I know, and I have been expectin' your summons, but as you know Poppadom's training is not yet complete. She has not completely mastered the ability to control her magic, and I fear the possibilities."

"Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of time. Afritha has Prince Valias in her hands, and each day that passes brings her closer to immortality. The time to act is now!"

"Yes, that is true, although unfortunate. What does Poppadom have to do?"

"She must accompany the young acolyte Yahnni in his quest for the Khanzaar. While Yahnni's pure soul will take them past the guards, he needs powerful magic to pluck the feather from the sleeping Phoenix. Only Poppadom will be able to do that using the Slumber Spell and combining it with the Strength Invocation – a very difficult combination for most witches, but a piece of cake for her!"

"Only if the silly girl gets it right!" sighed Ma Trumble. "She is extremely hasty, and alas, tends to be a bit over-confident and careless at times."

"Then you will have to teach her to get it right, for we will have no second chance to defeat Afritha and Jaduvan", continued the old sage. "Poppadom will need to use her magic to get Yahnni to Jaduvan's cavern as well. The Spell of Earthing, perhaps?"

"I see terrible danger if Poppadom comes face to face with Jaduvan" declared the witch-master. "As you well know, Jaduvan's power is unsurpassed, and Poppadom is not strong enough to withstand the lure of the power of evil. Not yet."

"Poppadom will not enter the Cavern of Dark Deceptions. She will have to maintain the Earthing securely until Yahnni completes his task and returns."

The two wise ones glanced at each other with grave concern. The unspoken words hung heavily between them... IF he returns!

"Perhaps the Spell of Holding will do the trick. She can manage that quite easily" and nodding wisely, the witch-master bade the old sage farewell, and hastened to prepare her reluctant pupil.

### VHARI IN HADDEZZA

Vhari thought he had died and gone to heaven! He had been terrified when Lord Dreath had sat him on the back of his Krilrex - the largest and most vile looking Krilrex of all, as they took to the skies. Vhari looked down to see his beloved Simarrah and his secure, happy life slowly fade away into the distance; he wondered if he would ever see his home again. His mother, his little sister, his friends, all seemed lost to him forever! Bitter tears coursed down his cheeks when he thought of his father who had given up his life for him, and Vhari wished he had been a better son. Scared and lost and alone, he held on to the saddle, and prayed fervently for the very first time in his adult life. The trip seemed to go on and on and on, and finally overcome with fear, hunger, and exhaustion, Vhari lost consciousness.

He came to slowly, his mind a swirling white mist, and looked around him. He had expected to be chained up in a dark, dank dungeon, awaiting who knew what horrors from Lord Dreath and his hideous monsters. Instead he found himself lying on a bed soft as a fluffy cloud, covered in light, white silken sheets, and scattered with a profusion of comfortable pillows. Platters of delicious fruit lay on a little table next to his bed. The entire room was gently lit with a glorious golden glow, and exotic flowers in shades of crimson filled every nook and cranny. A beautiful young girl played soothing music on a golden harp in a corner of the room. Slowly, confused but pleasantly so, Vhari sat up. "Oh, you are awake" exclaimed the young harpist, and quickly left the room.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and the most gorgeous woman Vhari had ever laid eyes on entered the room. "And how is my dearest Vhari?" sweetly asked this vision of loveliness. "Are you comfortable? Did you rest well? Are you hungry?"

Vhari just could not move his gaze away from her face. He was completely enraptured. Simarrah was forgotten, so was his family, and so were his friends. Especially when this graceful beauty sat down next to him and lovingly fed him with her own hands - grapes, and pomegranates, and other delicious fruit that Vhari had never before seen. She poured him wine, as delicate as nectar, from a silver flagon, and fed him wildflower honey fit for the gods.

"I am Afritha" said this gorgeous beauty, "and I am so happy to have you here with me".

Vhari could not believe that this was the Afritha that Lord Dreath had threatened the Simarrahns with! What fools the Rhysians were, and so gullible to have believed Lord Dreath's threats! This gorgeous woman was certainly not Evil Incarnate! She was a sweet beautiful angel! And she was so concerned about his well-being!

Jubal grew exceedling jealous of Vhari as Afritha spent more and more time with him.

"Why do we need to keep him happy, Mistress?" he questioned. "Why don't we just keep him locked up in the dungeon until the big Night?"

"Hush Jubal" his mistress cautioned. "I do not want Valias' heart damaged in any way. The stronger and happier his heart, the more potent its power! I want to eat every last morsel of its lifegiving force, drink every last drop of its precious blood!"

Although Jubal understood his mistress' argument, he was really not too happy about it.

' _Well Mr. Prince', he thought spitefully. 'I shall enjoy watching the dagger rip out your silly little heart on the Night of the Moons.'_

The next few days were the most exciting time of Vhari's life. Afritha's castle offered every conceivable delight. He spent his days hunting, jousting, and sporting with her guards, or racing swift powerful stallions along the beautiful shady lanes around the castle. Each evening all the residents of the castle - every one of them very elegant and well-mannered, gathered in the Great Hall and feasted on innumerable delicacies. Music flowed as freely as the excellent wine, and conversation was always amusing and intelligent. Dancers danced, jesters jested, and jugglers juggled while the guests partied. Invisible instruments played delightfully intricate music, the kind Vhari had never before heard. And the nights! His nights were spent gently cocooned in his silken bed, lulled to sleep by the tinkling of silver chimes and the mellow sounds of the harp. Each night Afritha magicked his bedchamber into a new and delightful location. One night he slept in a tropical forest lush with waterfalls and exotic birds. The next night was spent under the shady boughs of a cherry blossom tree nestled amidst snow capped hills. The third night, a warm island breeze soothed his senses as he lay in his own luxurious hammock!

The only thorn in his side was Jubal, the silly little creature who followed Afritha everywhere, and shot him darts of dark anger when she was not looking. The imp added salt to Vhari's wine, tied knots in Vhari's trousers, and shoved lumpy rocks under his mattress, but he was just a puny little wretch, and Vhari did not take him seriously at all.

Vhari was completely lost! Lost in Afritha's web of luxury and pleasure! He was her willing slave, ready to do whatever she asked of him. He never gave another thought to Simarrah. His life there was just so boring, so dull, so not him! He wanted to spend eternity with Afritha, here on Haddeza.

### MHIRRIN

For three days and three nights Vhari enjoyed every earthly pleasure in Afritha's Haddeza. On the fourth afternoon, he went hunting in the Forest of Khorrz with a few of Afritha's hunters. Since Afritha had completely enchanted Vhari with her sorcery, she needed neither chains nor guards to keep Vhari by her side; he was allowed complete freedom to go where he pleased. The sun was slowly beginning to set, and deep purple streaks appeared in the Haddezan sky. Hundreds of twinkling stars in kaleidoscopic hues danced their way across the heavens, ready to settle in for the night.

The hunters decided to head back to the castle. Just then, Vhari's eye was caught by the flutter of pure white wings. A beautiful white dove was hovering close at hand, and Vhari immediately turned his horse around after it. Signalling the huntsmen to carry on home, he followed the bird which kept fluttering around him, keeping close to him, almost as though leading him somewhere. Very soon the bird disappeared through a narrow gap in the walls around the castle grounds. Although Vhari had never been outside the castle walls, he immediately followed the bird, and found himself in the strangest, most wondrous place! He could not believe it! He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was asleep and dreaming. He was standing in the middle of the most enchanting woods imaginable. A land of sheer fantasy!

It was a magical midsummer's night. The full moon glinted through the trees, casting long eerie shadows all through the woods. Truly, enchantment was in the air! Faerie folk rustled by, their voices as pure and clear as crystal wind chimes. The air stirred with the flutter of wings as strange creatures swooped past. The woods were lit up by dazzling glow-worms flitting from bush to bush. The scales on the serpents' coils caught the moonlight and shimmered in a shower of silver and gold and bronze. Winged unicorns munched contentedly on plump berries, as deeper in the woods, wicked eyes gleamed in the dark night - a flash here, a flash there!

Then Vhari saw her! She stood in a corner, shy and hesitant. Beautiful as a nymph, clad in a soft white dress that fluttered around her ankles like spun gossamer. Her hair, dark and long, touched with shimmering moonlight, framed an unearthly beauty - high cheekbones, slanted long dark eyes, and soft, rosy lips. She stood very still, waiting... Vhari knew instinctively that she was waiting for him.

Her heart skipped a beat when Vhari stepped out of the shadows. He was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Dangerously beautiful! He seemed to blend into the night. Dressed in black tights, a long black tunic fastened with a silver belt that glowed softly with a light of its own, he looked as though he belonged in these strange woods. His jet black hair curled around his shoulders. On his left wrist he wore a silver cuff with strange symbols etched on it. The Faerie Prince!

Black eyes gazed deep into black eyes! Twin souls instantly recognised each other. He held out his hand; she took it.

Hand in hand, they walked silently through the dark and magical woods. There was no need for words. There was everything and yet nothing they need say to each other.

They were the most ethereal creatures there that night. The Faerie folk stopped their singing to admire this strikingly beautiful pair. Wings stopped fluttering as they passed by, and strange low growls broke the silence.

Vhari led her to a clearing in the moonlight. The earth was soft and fragrant with a million wild rose petals. Holding her hand, he gently sat her down next to him on the soft, sweet-scented ground. Vhari somehow instinctively knew that this was the most important moment of his life, and that his entire destiny was linked to this lovely young girl.

"Who are you?" asked Vhari softly "and where am I?"

"I am Mhirrin, a refugee from the Land of Faerie. And you my lord are Valias, Prince of Faerie! Afritha needs your heart to fulfil the prophecy and become Lord over all the worlds. The very instant she received news of your birth, she and her unholy army of Gorgoths brutally attacked Faerie and killed our beloved King, and most of our people. Thankfully, you were spirited away to Simarrah just a few minutes before she got there.

My family was ordered to leave Faerie long before your birth, and live as refugees in these woods. I was born in these woods and know no other home. My Prince, you must defeat Afritha, and thwart her evil plan."

Vhari was completely stunned, but at the same time, something in him accepted the truth of what Mhirrin was telling him. Something deep in his soul responded to her words.

"Then why does Afritha allow you to stay in Haddeza?" he asked the beautiful fairy.

"Ah, we and these woods are invisible to all the worlds. We live here in peace by Ahur's grace."

"Mhirrin, then I shall live in these woods with you and the other fae" said Vhari. "Afritha will not be able to see me, and the prophecy will not be fulfilled."

"Alas my Prince, at dawn these woods and all of us in them will vanish forever. We were sent here on the order of the Council of the Very Wise to await your arrival and warn you. It is now done, and we must move on to the Gathering Fields where our loved ones await us. You must go on and fulfil your destiny and save the worlds from Afritha and Ahrimn."

"No!" Vhari begged. "Please do not leave me. I have lost too much these past few days to lose you as well. Take me to the Gathering Fields as well. Please."

"That Prince Valias, is not your destiny - not yet. You, and you alone can destroy Afritha. On the Night of the Moons, the six moons of Haddeza will be perfectly aligned for exactly six minutes. This is the only time ever that Afritha's magic is useless. During those six minutes you must pierce her wicked heart with the Khanzaar - a very special feather taken from the immortal Golden Phoenix. Or else the witch will devour your beating, living heart to become immortal herself, and continue her tyrannical reign till the end of all time. Those six minutes will portend the destiny of all the worlds!"

"And how will I get this feather?" asked Vhari.

"It will be given to you. The plan has been set in motion by the Council, and the worlds will soon witness the ultimate battle between Good and Evil.

Now my Prince, you must completely understand your destiny. Put your hand over my heart and open your mind."

### PRINCE VALIAS

Vhari put one hand over Mhirrin's heart, while his other hand held hers tightly. Her heart was beating in gentle, even rhythm. Lulled by the steady pulse, Vhari's mind experienced powerful images from deep within Mhirrin's soul.

It was a very strange day in the Kingdom of Faerie! The skies were brighter than usual, the rivers crystal clear! The leaves on the trees seemed fresher, greener, and adorned with a million sparkling dew-drop diamonds. There was intense happiness in the air, but it was mixed with sorrow and apprehension! Today brought the dawn of a new hope for Faerie, but through it, today also heralded its possible destruction!

The new Prince of Faerie had been born! This news would have been accompanied by much joyous celebration, and the entire Kingdom would have partied for more than a week - but not this time. This time Faerie was expecting danger! Their little baby Prince's life was in grave peril!

In a beautiful airy room in the Royal Palace, the little baby was sleeping peacefully, softly wrapped in his silken blanket, chubby little fingers curled into tiny fists. His mother, Queen Huvoni was weeping tears of joy mixed with sobs of intense anguish! She hugged her little baby close to her, and kept kissing him over and over again. His father, the mighty King Zartos, appointed by Ahur as Ruler over all the Realms, felt helpless for the very first time in his life.

"Afritha's armies are close at hand" announced Korush, his trusty minister. "Shall I give the order?"

King Zartos nodded, his heart heavy with grief.

"No! Just one more minute with my son, please!" Huvoni clung on to the little bundle in her hand.

"He has to leave now! It is the only way to keep him safe" her husband gently removed the child from her arms. He handed the little baby to two of his most trusted faeries, Ashar and Pariy.

"Here, take him quickly! Hurry with utmost haste!"

Ashar and Pariy lovingly held the precious bundle, and left the Kingdom in the nick of time.

The Gorgoths arrived in Faerie mere minutes after the Prince had been spirited away. At the helm of the savage army was Afritha herself, mounted on a grandly armoured and decorated Krillrex. She wanted to make sure there would be no mistake of any kind; she trusted nobody to bring the Faerie Prince safely to her.

King Zartos stood at the head of his warriors, ready to face the attackers. The Fae knew they could not win against this hideous horde, but they were going to fight to the very end to give Ashar and Pariy enough time to get their Prince to safety.

The battle was short and brutal. King Zartos, astride his beautiful white unicorn bravely and boldly led his courageous army! He was in the thick of the battle, his sword slicing through Gorgoth after Gorgoth, but more and more of the hideous devils just kept on coming! His loyal soldiers battled just as fiercely, knowing quite well they were going to meet death very soon.

The Gorgoths delighted in torturing the beautiful fae. Their death screams, inaudible to the Gorgoths, could be heard clearly by those fae guarding the Queen in the Palace. Although they longed to join their comrades in battle, their King had entrusted them with a very special task – keeping his wife safe!

In no time at all Afritha's monsters annihilated the Fae army.

"Where is the great King?" mocked Afritha. "I want him alive!"

Lord Dreath dragged the noble Zartos, his hands and feet tightly bound, and threw him violently next to Afritha's Krillrex.

"Ah mighty Zartos! Not so mighty now, are you? Where is your great Ahur? Too impotent to save you today?" she mocked.

"Do you know what will happen now? I will kill you slowly, with agonising cruelty, and then my Gorgoths will storm your Palace. I shall take the Prince in my own arms back to Haddeza, where he will forget you and your kind, and live happily with me until the Night of the Moons, when I shall pluck out his little Faerie heart and eat it - fresh and bloody! And your beautiful Queen? Perhaps I shall give her as a reward to my loyal Lord Dreath."

The Gorgoths broke out into coarse laughter. Zartos struggled hard against his bonds, which made Afritha laugh even louder. Then slowly, and with excruciating viciousness, she cut out his heart ("just the way I shall carve out your son's one day") and held it aloft on her sword, the King's noble blood dripping down the ugly blade!

Afritha marched victoriously to the Royal Palace! In a few moments she would hold in her hand the key to her immortality! While her brutes slaughtered the fae guarding the Palace, she marched straight into the birthing chamber where the Queen lay on her bed splendidly dressed in her Royal Robes. Afritha made directly for the tiny cradle next to the bed, and let out a hideous roar of savage fury when she saw it was empty! Her angry shriek could be heard all over Faerie, and what few fae remained alive trembled with fear at the dreadful sound!

Bloody sword in hand, spitting rage, she marched to Queen Huvoni's bed. "How dare you? How dare you? You stupid dumb woman! Do you think I cannot make you talk? Make you tell me where that brat is hidden?" Screaming out her anger, she made to shake the Queen violently, when to her surprise the Queen's body fell limp to the floor.

Afritha's eyes widened in fury when she realised the Queen had killed herself rather than betray her child!

"Bring every remaining Faerie to me" she screamed at her Gorgoths. "I want every single one who is yet alive!"

Then followed one of the worst times ever witnessed by any realm - when Afritha personally supervised the horrific torture of the fae, demanding from them the whereabouts of their new Prince. Their shrieks and screams, although soundless to Afritha and her monsters, echoed all through Faerie, as the heinous butchering continued.

But no matter what Afritha did to the Fae, she could not discover where the baby prince was hidden.

"Burn the entire Kingdom!" she ordered Lord Dreath. "Let no fae - man, woman, or child survive this day!" And with maniacal fury, Afritha departed from Faerie forever!

As soon as Queen Huvoni had fallen pregnant, Aranos from the Council of the Very Wise had met with King Zartos, and the two had held secret meetings with Zartos' ministers for over three days. They had decided to spirit the new Prince out of Faerie as soon as he was born, and at the same time to send a group of fae out of Faerie into the wilds of Haddeza to await their grown Prince, just in case Afritha did manage to capture him.

"Do you swear to keep my son safe?" asked Zartos for the thousandth time!

"I give you my word the Council will do everything in its power to protect your son."

Now, Valias was here, and the rest of the task was his and his alone.

The history of his people, the story of his family, the knowledge of his own kind kept washing through Vhari in wave after wave of intense emotion. He felt his noble parents' fear for his life, their great sacrifice in sending him away to Simarrah, saw the awful destruction and horror Afritha and her Gorgoths had wreaked in Faerie, heard the screams of his people as they were tortured by Afritha to reveal his whereabouts. He felt the love of his people, their courage in protecting him, their hope for his victory over the evil Ahrimn.

The two young faeries sat side by side with their arms around each other until the first fingers of dawn crept into the clearing. Then Vhari felt Mhirrin's essence slowly fade from her body. Holding her as tight as he could, Vhari felt completely helpless and lost and alone. With a soft "Farewell Prince Valias", Mhirrin moved on to the Gathering Fields.

"I will join you there soon, I promise" Vhari whispered, "but first I must destroy that wicked witch!"

He held on to her lifeless body, he knew not how long. His heart was empty, yet his heart was full; he did not understand Life, yet he felt a purpose to his! He experienced feelings he never knew existed in him. Gone was Vhari, the fun loving Simarrahn boy. In his place stood Prince Valias, a man with a destiny to fulfil!

As sunbeams filled the lightening sky, Mhirrin's body and the magical woods slowly and gently faded away, becoming one with the Sun. Prince Valias found himself in a vast, empty, desolate field, but it was hardly as desolate as his aching heart.

He got to his feet, and with a final backward glance, he slipped back through the gap in the wall, back to Afritha's castle. As he entered the castle grounds, gone was the enchantment the witch had placed upon him. He saw Rith Afra with the eyes of truth, as it really was - dark and sinister, with the foul stench of rotting corpses. The castle was built of cold grey stone, bare and inhospitable. Not even an ivy creeper dared soften its stark surface. Vultures and ravens perched grotesquely on crumbling columns in the courtyard, their stomachs bloated with the foul remains of their last meal while they eagerly awaited the next. The beautiful courtiers were equally hideous and sinister – sly and slimy as they slithered around - the most profane creatures from all the realms. The only music he now heard was the dreadful shrieking of unfortunate souls being tortured in the dungeons below. When Afritha arrived to greet him, he realised with shock that when seen in a certain light, the fabric of the witch's robe was woven through with the heads of her many victims screaming silently in terror, their tortured eyes mutely pleading for release.

Valias shivered at the thought of the close call he had had. He had to get out of here, but first he had to destroy Afritha, and quickly. He did not have much time left. He needed to make a plan!

### AND SO THE ADVENTURE BEGINS.....

Meanwhile in Simarrah, the brave adventurers set their plan in motion. Word went out quickly and secretly to those loyal to King Shoarib, and every man, woman, and child played some part in the attempt to destroy Afritha.

Instead of local gossip, Mistress Tokkins and her local grapevine carried important information, delivering it in hushed whispers to helping ears.

Young lads carried bits and pieces of wood to carpenters who worked night and day to fashion swift, simple boats to carry the heroes across the seas of Simarrah, while younger children acted as lookouts against Counsellor Mordross' spies. Goodbuns and his wife baked up trays of nutritious little loaves of bread stuffed with cheese and herbs for the arduous journey. The Secret Society of the Sensible Sisters of Simarrah (or SSSSS) packed little bundles of sun-dried fruit, and even miserly old Gillin, proprietor of the Seven Seas Alehouse, donated several skins of wine for the long journey.

The big night finally arrived, and the Simarrahns waited anxiously for the signal to get their plans underway.

During the darkest, loneliest hours Brother Larchon gave the signal – the sound of an owl hooting. But unfortunately, not many Simarrahns had ever seen or heard owls, so it was quite a while before the people realised the adventure had begun.

Then began a flurry of activity!

The Simarrahns, in a mad dash to send the adventurers on their way, tripped over one another, or even tripped over their own feet as they ran to their appointed tasks. After many "shhh..s" and cries of "look out.." and "sorry...", which through sheer luck were not overheard by Mordross' men, the Simarrahns managed to set their plan in motion.

Strong youths carried the boats for the trip swiftly to the shores of Simarrah. Loyal dungeon guards quietly opened the dungeons and let the adventurers out one by one, while lovely young girls flirted with Mordross' guards, keeping them pleasantly distracted.

Six boats set out that night, three men to a boat, except for Yahnni who sailed only with Poppadom Schmuckle.

According to Firdoz, three was the perfect number for each journey.

"One person alone invites danger. Two people invite argument and dissent. But three, well, that creates the perfect balance!"

### ISFANDAR

In the first boat, Zaeve, along with Pelle and Harita set sail for the enchanted forest kingdom of Isfandar across the Sea of Chimes. The waves rippled with delightful, gentle peals as they shimmered in the velvet darkness.

For the first time since the death of his lovely wife, Zaeve felt a sense of purpose, and though he knew he was heading into fearsome battle, he felt an odd sense of peace.

Pelle and Harita were steering the boat.

"I wonder what fairies look like, Pelle" Harita asked his older brother. "Have you ever seen any?"

"In Simarrah?" Pelle laughed. "Not a chance!"

"Will there be fairy horses and fat fairy sheep and will they all fly? That would be so much fun – seeing sheep fly past." Harita rambled on and on. He had just turned eighteen and was very excited to be included in this adventure.

Zaeve came and sat beside them. "I have sung many songs about fairies, Harita. I think they are exquisite little creatures, about one foot high, transparent, with wings like gossamer. Their wings shimmer in the moonlight, as they gently fly from flower to flower, sipping nectar. They make their homes in bluebells and lilies." Zaeve was lost in an imaginary fairyland.

Pelle and Harita looked at each other.

"And we expect these delicate creatures to fight the Gorgoths?" Pelle, always practical, asked.

Zaeve came out of his reverie and laughed. "Sorry, just day-dreaming as usual."

Pelle and Harita rowed strong and sure towards Isfandar, checking over and over again, the map Firdoz had given them.

By this time, the men were getting rather irritated with the incessant pealing from the Sea of Chimes. Although very soothing when they embarked on their voyage, it was now getting quite annoying. And minute by minute, the sound kept getting louder and louder and louder, and quite unbearable!

"I just cannot stand this noise any more!" exclaimed Harita. "Will it never stop?"

"Here, plug your ears with this" Pelle handed him a clean rag. Soon all three men had their ears plugged as tightly as possible, but the chimes just got more and more clamorous.

"This is insane!" Pelle had to shout to be heard over the ear-splitting din. "We will all be stark raving crazy by the time we get to Isfandar."

"Is there no way to stop this horrible chiming?" Harita felt his ears would burst. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he screamed at the water.

"The Sea of Chimes demands its toll

For crossing it, a coin of gold"

Zaeve, Pelle, and Harita looked at each other in astonishment. Where had that voice come from? Had the sea really spoken to them?

"Oh look, look!" Pelle shouted, pointing to a spot near their boat.

A mysterious hand, palm outstretched had emerged from the water. Once again the men heard the thunderous voice,

"The Sea of Chimes demands its toll

For crossing it, a coin of gold"

"I think we better throw this in" and Zaeve threw a coin as close to the hand as he could.

In an instant the fist closed over the shimmering coin, and disappeared. And peaceful silence washed over the three travellers, as the horrible chimes stopped their cacophony. The men took deep breaths, and let the blissful quiet soothe their jangled nerves.

The rest of the trip went by in relative silence, so badly had their senses been assaulted by the dreadful noise.

For the first time since Raisya's death, the peaceful tranquility and the rhythmic motion of the boat gliding through the dark waters lulled Zaeve into dreamless sleep. The next morning, his companions shook him awake.

"We have arrived!" exclaimed Harita excitedly.

Zaeve sat up in the little boat and looked all around. There was a beautiful new moon, a delicate silvery pale crescent suspended in a sky of deep midnight blue! A few metres across the rocky shore stood the woods of Isfandar – darkly shadowed and looking quite menacing. Zaeve and his companions hid their boat, and made for the woods. They had to somehow find Gatimi, King of the WoodFae - and as quickly as possible!

Pelle heard a rustling noise from close at hand, and motioned the company to halt. "There is something out there" he cautioned.

As their eyes grew accustomed to the dark, the three men realised that they were surrounded by a circle of deadly sharp spears aimed directly at them. Fierce looking creatures muttering in a strange guttural sing-song tongue were poised and ready to inflict serious damage to the Simarrahns. Trolls! With small humped bodies covered in shaggy fur, hideous faces with sharp jagged teeth, and yellow eyes glowing savagely, the trolls looked vicious, and ready to tear the young men apart.

"Stop!" cried one. "Go back from whence you came. We do not tolerate humans in our magic woods. Turn right back, and leave! Now!"

For a moment the Simarrahns were perplexed. Was their great plan doomed even before it began?

"What are we supposed to do now? Just turn around and return to Simarrah empty handed?" Pelle was outraged!

"They are really small, they barely reach our waist. Let's keep moving", his brother Harita was a man of action and never stopped to think first. Impatiently pushing aside a spear, he started walking through. Within an instant, the troll planted the spear firmly in Harita's chest. Harita's blood gurgled bright and red from the ugly wound.

The Simarrahns were too shocked and horrified to react immediately! As a peaceful people, they had never come across such brutality! And now, with Afritha's Gorgoths and the trolls, a whole new world was opening up before them. One they really did not like at all!

With immense courage - for he certainly could not be sure the trolls would not kill him as well, Pelle knelt down, and with tears of utter grief running down his face, cradled Harita, trying futilely to stench the flow of the blood.

"Don't die, little brother, don't die! You just cannot die!" he sobbed. "Get up! Please, please get up!"

"Leave him! He is dead!" one of the trolls who seemed to be the leader ordered. "Throw down your weapons and march in a straight line ahead of us."

"Weapons? We have no weapons! I am Zaeve from Simarrah, and these are my companions. We have come to Isfandar in peace, to seek your King's help against Afritha....."

"Shut up and march, human!" commanded the troll. "Do not touch him" he ordered when Zaeve and Pelle tried to lift their fallen companion. "We do not allow death in our woods!"

"Then let us bury him at least" begged Pelle. "He is my brother."

"March!" ordered the troll leader once again, poking Pelle hard with his spear. "Unless you want to join him as well...."

Angry, but frustrated because they knew there was nothing they could do against eight deadly trolls, Zaeve and Pelle left poor Harita's bleeding body, and started marching down a twisting path. Pelle was heartbroken, and trying very hard to remain calm. The men had absolutely no idea where they were being taken, or what would happen to them next. Whatever it was, it was not going to be very pleasant.

Behind them the trolls kept talking and laughing loudly as if at some very clever and funny joke.

"I want to kill them - I really do" muttered a normally peaceful Pelle in a loud whisper. The trolls laughed even louder. Poking at the Simarrahns with their spears, they urged them on. On and on and on the little party walked – the two young Simarrahns, and eight grotesque trolls. The path kept twisting and turning, until the men could hardly see where they were walking. And then it started raining! Not the pleasant rain showers that the Simarrahns were used to, but an angry, sweeping, torrential downpour! In less than a few seconds the entire party was soaked to the skin. The path became a river of mud under their feet, making them slip and slide and bump into each other.

"Look, there is a tiny clearing under that tree" pointed Zaeve. "Let us wait out the rain."

The trolls were busy debating among themselves, so the Simarrahns headed directly for the clearing, glad to have a bit of rest from the unending walk, and the wet, slippery path. All of a sudden, the ground under their feet gave way, and sliding crazily, the men as well as the trolls found themselves being sucked into a deep pit in the ground! Down, down, down, they slid, finally landing on top of one another on some thick heavy netting.

"Oh no!" screeched a troll. "A Drool trap! We are all done for!"

"What is a Drool trap? What is a Drool? Where are we?" Zaeve had a hundred questions.

"You will soon find out", said one of the meanest looking trolls, trembling with fear.

The Simarrahns were completely terrified by this time. If this horrible troll was so scared, a Drool must be more frightful than anything they could possibly imagine!

Zaeve and Pelle moved close to each other, seeking courage and human contact from one another.

"Perhaps Harita was the lucky one" said Zaeve.

"I am glad he is not here to face this monster, whatever it is" Harita's older brother Pelle replied.

Pelle, the eldest of five, had taken care of his youngest brother since their father's sudden death. His mother, distraught from her husband's early passing, and not in very good health herself, had followed him to the grave not long after. Pelle suddenly at age fourteen, found himself in charge of his four younger siblings. He worked very hard in Farmer Gruber's fields and provided a decent life for his family. But he still could not give them a real home. As soon as he turned eighteen, he asked Gruber for his niece's hand in marriage. The old farmer had grown extremely fond of the hard working, responsible lad, and happily agreed to the nuptials. It was the best decision Pelle ever made. His new bride brought so much love and life and happiness into their home, which previously had seen only sorrow and hardship. His sisters adored their new sister-in-law, and his brothers followed her around like little babies, ready to do whatever she wanted. Harita, the youngest, had been almost like a son to them, and Pelle had promised his worried wife he would take good care of his little brother during their adventure.

Pelle had not even been allowed to mourn Harita's death, and now very likely he would soon be joining his brother. He started praying – for Harita, and for Zaeve and himself stuck here in this awful land, and for his family back in Simarrah, and even for Valias. Zaeve joined him in prayer, while the trolls looked on in utter astonishment.

###  RHINLANDIA

"Victory or Death!" Roghaar and his fellow guardsmen Thorros and Ballan toasted each other as they sailed across the Sea of Gramania to Rhinlandia.

The brave young men were thoroughly enjoying their adventure. Drawn by visions of heroism and valour, they had joined King Shoarib's guards, but Simarrah was quite a peaceful land, so there had never been an opportunity to face real adventure. (Unless you counted issuing speeding tickets to chariots racing down Main Street. All the guards enjoyed this job as it gave them the perfect excuse to gallop full blast after the miscreants - a bit of excitement on a dull day!) Now for the first time, the guardsmen felt they were embarking on a real mission – one fraught with danger and excitement. An adventure with a noble purpose! An adventure where they could finally prove their mettle!

Roghaar, Thorros, and Ballan had had a fine time throughout the trip. The Sea of Gramania was calm and peaceful, the young men were all excited and happy, and Ballan's wife had thoughtfully provided plenty of wine and ale for the trip!

"Well Roghaar, do you think Lord Markhone will help us?" asked Ballan.

"Why shouldn't he?" replied Roghaar. "Rhinaries are born warriors. I am sure fighting is as natural to them as eating and drinking."

"I have never killed anyone" said Ballan thoughtfully. "Do you think we shall be able to do it? Slice through flesh and blood?" And Ballan heaved over the side of the boat while Roghaar and Thorros laughed heartily at his expense.

"I would just love to slice through some good old Gorgoth hide" said Roghaar, while Thorros nodded approvingly. "Dragobas will be right by my side on the battlefield." And Roghaar pulled out the legendary sword he had carefully wrapped in a canvas sheet, and held it proudly aloft, sunlight flashing brilliantly on the lustrous metal.

"My great grand-father killed the much dreaded dragon Orzok with this sword, so what is a mere Gorgoth?"

"My great uncle Thorros, after whom I have been named, fought in the Zorkas Wars as well" boasted Thorros. "I hear he killed over twenty of Orzok's fiercest fighters."

Both men looked expectantly at Ballan, who suddenly got very busy checking out Firdoz' maps.

"Tell us about Dragobas, Roghaar" said Thorros.

During the lifetimes of Roghaar's great great grand-father Lord Lethri of Tarquis, and great grand-father Lord Roddin of Tarquis, Simarrah was a land ravaged by bloodshed. Most of the realms were at war with one another, and all the worlds were in turmoil. The land was grey with death and destruction; old men looked on in despair at graveyards filled with the young; women and children waited with hopeless eyes for their men to return from the battlefield. War after war after war engulfed the kingdom in cold dark death.

Early one morning, Lethri Tarquis, Roghaar's great great grand-father went for a stroll through Tarquis Woods. He had a lot on his mind, and walking through the silent woods, the loamy smell of damp soil, leaves crunching under his feet, birds chirping in the treetops, gave Lethri some much needed calm and peace. This was his special place - where he could be alone, where the worries of life left his side for a while.

As Lethri approached the huge Zilla Blossom tree, he thought he heard strange sounds from the other side. He stopped to listen more carefully.... Yes, there it was – as though some child was sobbing his heart out! Lethri immediately walked towards the sound, and was surprised to find himself face to face with a dwarf!

Now in those days, due to the constant wars, dwarfs, fairies, and other creatures were a fairly common sight in Simarrah. Many joined armies as mercenaries, many stayed behind long after their armies had departed.

"What are you doing here?" enquired Lord Lethri of the sobbing creature. The dwarf seemed quite young, his long hair and long beard as black as pitch. His eyes seem a bit shifty, thought Lethri. But then most dwarfs looked shifty to him.

"Oh kind Sir" began the dwarf; "I am Currin from Kardis. The last ship for Kardis just left, and I got delayed and missed it. How will I ever get back to my people? Oh help me, please help me!" the dwarf begged, tears streaming down his filthy face.

Lethri very kindly offered to take him to his castle. "You can stay there until we can find somebody who can take you back to your land" he said.

"Oh thank you, thank you" Currin almost danced, beaming with joy. "Just a minute kind Sir, let me get my meagre little bundle" and Currin went around the tree towards a little thorny bush.

Something does not seem right, thought Lethri. He became more alert. Glancing at the bush, he noticed shafts of sunlight brilliantly reflected off something amidst the thorns.... In an instant, the dwarf picked up the deadly sword - for that is what it was, and made ready to strike Lethri.

"Hand over all your gold, Mister. Or else!" he threatened.

"Oh, so this is an ambush, is it?" Lethri did not seem the least bit scared.

Currin had picked the wrong man to intimidate. Without a moment's hesitation, Lethri picked up the little dwarf, sword and all, flung him over his shoulder and swung him around and around. The sword went flying from Currin's hand. Finally, when the dwarf's face turned red, and he was almost unconcious, Lethri threw him down on the forest floor. The dwarf lay there, a dazed and frightened look on his face.

"You have chosen the wrong man to rob, my friend" stated Lethri.

He picked up the fallen sword. One look at the beautiful softly glowing metal, the unusual golden inscription embossed around the hilt, the lethally sharp blade, and Lethri knew he was holding a great treasure in his hand.

"Oh gods! Dragobas! Where did you get this sword, my thieving friend?"

Currin's face turned even redder, if that was even possible.

"I see. A prize from another robbery, eh? You are an enterprising little fellow, are you not? I suppose this is why you dared not return to Kardis. How could you go back with Dragobas in your possession?"

Then standing the dwarf in front of him, Dragobas poking his back, Lethri ordered, "March!"

They returned to Tarquis Hall, where the dwarf was promptly locked up in the cellar, and as far as we know was never heard of again.

When Lethri's son Roddin – Roghaar's great grand-father, turned eighteen, his father presented the young warrior with Dragobas.

Roddin and Dragobas made an invincible team in the wars that followed through the years. But never did the sword serve him so well as it did during the Zorkas Wars with the Dragons of Zok.

The Dragon Realm of Zok was getting overcrowded. For some strange reason, the dragons had multiplied very quickly in the past hundred years, and food and land were very scarce. Out of necessity, the Dragon Army led by General Orzok had to conquer new lands for their use. So they came to Simarrah. To Hetfeld Hill.

The skies over Simarrah went dark as hundreds of dragon wings blotted out the sun. With dragons, the battle took on new challenges. Dragons could fly! Thorros, Commander of the Archers played a very vital role in this war. His archers had to bring down the mighty reptiles before the soldiers could fight them on the ground. It is not an easy task to down a mighty dragon with an arrow. Thorros was indeed a hero that day as he planned the attacks, urged his men on, devised strategy, and brought down over a dozen dragons himself. He was all over the battlefield, encouraging his fighters, helping those that had been wounded, shouting commands to others. Hetfeld Hill was soon littered with dead or injured dragons! And with the corpses of the fallen warriors... And more than half of Simarrah was burnt to ashes from dragonfire! The Simarrahns fought with every last ounce of strength in their bodies. It is not very easy to kill even a wounded dragon. Their hides are thickly covered in scales except for a small area at the base of the neck.

A few hours later the sky became darker than the darkest night as even the sun hid in fear, when Orzok, General of the Dragon Army flew in to join the battle. Orzok was the most renowned warrior of Zok. The old dragon had fought countless wars the past five hundred years, and was undefeated. It was rumoured that as soon as his hide was pierced, it grew back stronger than ever.

Young Roddin of Tarquis watched his father valiantly attack Orzok, only to fall under Orzok's fiery bolts. His young blood boiled, and in maniacal fury, he made straight for the General, and caring nothing for his life, attacked him with all his strength and might.

If Orzok was a wily veteran of countless skirmishes, Roddin had the advantage of wielding Dragobas – the invincible sword! Orzok started at the sight of Dragobas gleaming in Roddin's hand. In a flash he shot a bolt of dragon-fire at young Roddin who quickly twisted out of the way. Orzok followed him, shooting flame after flame after flame... It took all of Roddin's skill just to try to evade the fiery blasts. Within a few minutes he found himself trapped between a rock and the hillside. The wily dragon laughed. "A legendary sword is no help if one cannot use it."

Roddin knew he was about to die. One last bolt of dragon's breath, and he would burn to a crisp. But he decided he would not die without a fight. Holding his sword aloft he screamed "Simarrah....." waiting for the dragon to come close enough so he could make his final attempt.

"Simarrah..." he heard his cry echoed from all sides, as Thorros and his archers shot over a dozen arrows into the great dragon. The dragon came crashing down.

Roddin immediately ran out from behind the rock, and engaged the fallen dragon in battle. Although Orzok could not fly, he was still powerful enough to kill Roddin. Realising he could not withstand any more fiery breaths from the dragon, Roddin devised a new strategy. He quickly ran behind the lumbering dragon and jumped onto its back. Orzok tried violently to shake him off, but Roddin held on for dear life. Inching forward slowly and warily, he sat himself on top of Orzok's neck, and with a mighty thrust pushed Dragobas right up to the hilt into the dragon's neck. Orzok fell with a colossal roar, nearly squashing a dozen Simarrahn archers with his huge body.

Making sure Orzok was dead, Roddin pulled Dragobas out, black dragon blood dripping onto the hilt, and cut out the horn on the dragon general's snout.

Both the sword and the horn were proudly displayed in Tarquis Hall!

Thorros and Ballan were lost in Roghaar's story, listening wide-eyed and open-mouthed as Roghaar told them many more tales of Lord Roddin and the fabled sword. Soon Thorros and Ballan joined in, recounting stories - some highly embellished, they had heard from their families.

So engrossed were the young men in their tales of courage and heroism, that much too late they discovered they had gone completely off-course. The boat was sailing away from Rhinlandia, out into the open sea.

"Quick" shouted Roghaar consulting Firdoz's map, "turn her around! A little more to the right! A bit more, more... Stop! That is too much. A little to the left now...."

Sweat pouring down their faces, Thorros and Ballan worked hard and quickly to bring the vessel back on course.

After this, the men stopped talking and concentrated on carefully navigating their little boat through the dark waters, until early next morning they spotted land.

"Rhinlandia at last!" said Thorros. The young men pulled their boat ashore, tied it to a wooden post, and made for the town.

Rhinlandia was a large fortified city, walled off in concentric layers for protection. Right in the centre was the Keep which was pretty nigh impenetrable. Around the Keep was the village with the homes of the Rhinaries, enclosed by high walls continuously patrolled by vigilant guards. Surrounding the homes were the garrisons of the knights who protected their city night and day. Even the fields where the Rhinaries grew their crops were encircled by high stone walls. Every man, woman, and child was taught how to bear arms, and excellence and skill in fighting were held in the highest esteem!

The Rhinaries were big and powerfully muscled with beautiful glowing brown skin, ranging from the palest café au lait, to the darkest chocolate. With finely chiselled features, light eyes, and thick golden hair, they were a startlingly beautiful people!

This morning Rhinlandia was decorated to the hilt for some important event. Flags, streamers, buntings - all in vibrant reds, greens, blues, and gold hung from every post and pillar. Shop fronts were decorated with colourful banners, and small tables set outdoors offered brightly coloured sweets and drinks.

"Let's head for the local tavern" suggested Roghaar. "The barkeep is always the best person for information."

The Simarrahns were quite prepared to be grilled thoroughly by the heavily armed guards, and were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by wide smiles and greetings instead.

"Can you take us to the tavern?" Thorros threw a coin at a little urchin. The lad grabbed the coin, and led the young men to a rough establishment with thick stone walls, huge wooden plank tables, and uncomfortable, uneven benches. Swords, daggers, a crossbow, axes, and spears decorated the pitted wall behind the counter, serving sharp warning to rowdy patrons.

"I don't think anybody dare have fun in this place" Ballan said, looking around nervously.

Although it was still early in the morning, the tavern seemed to be thriving with customers. After ordering some food and ale, Roghaar went to speak with the tavern keeper. Barkos the publican was a huge man, copper faced, with a big belly, and arms as thick as the trunk of a birch. "Good sire, can you tell us how we may find Lord Markhone?" asked Roghaar.

"And what business might ye have with him?" Barkos answered him with a question of his own.

"Private business!" replied Roghaar very bravely - or foolishly!

The publican's red face became even redder, but then after a minute or so he relaxed, and smiled. "From Simarrah, are ye?" he said. "Well our Lord Markhone lives in yonder Keep. But no point goin' there. He be away a while - well over a month, I reckon. And everyone else be gone to the Arena."

"The Arena? Why?" queried Roghaar.

"For the Games, of course! Have ye not come here for the Games?" Barkos questioned.

Seeing the bewildered look on Roghaar's face, he continued, "The Games of War be goin' on in the Arena. The biggest event in all of Rhinlandia!"

"Then that's where we should be going to get more information about Lord Markhone" said Ballan. "Ask him for directions..."

"Just follow yon green brick road" the publican smiled a wide toothy smile, displaying a bunch of rotten black stubs.

Sure enough the main road had been marked with a row of green bricks. Throngs of people pushed and shoved past them, all in a hurry to get to the Games. Old men hobbled on with sticks, jabbing anybody who dared come in the way. Thorros felt a sharp poke in his ribs as he tried to hurry past a painfully slow senior citizen. Little kids rode on their fathers' shoulders shrieking at one another, and women struggled with heavy picnic baskets and umbrellas. Everybody was in a jolly, festive mood.

Every few metres hung huge banners with 'Welcome to the Games' boldly printed in colourful letters.

It was quite a while before the Simarrahns managed to get inside the arena. The Rhinaries did not bother with anything as mundane as queues, and whoever pushed ahead harder, got in first! The Simarrahns who were waiting patiently for their turn soon caught on, and started pushing ahead with the best of them.

The Arena was made up of six different rings, the ground covered with thick layers of sawdust.

The main ring had young warriors mounted on really ferocious looking horses, lances drawn, jousting fiercely and intently. Young knights, elegant in well polished armour jousted alongside unkempt, rough, tough men. With the horses too, some were lovingly groomed and dressed in the colours of their knights, while others looked like they had just been unhitched from the plough and brought directly to the Games. But the spectators were completely unconcerned about looks, and equally cheered on the knights as well as the farmers. On the whole, the people watching the jousting were fairly well mannered, and deeply engrossed in the matches.

Quite unlike those watching the sport in the next ring! There, two sturdy men were seated on a rough tree trunk, one hand tied behind their backs, using the other hand to brain each other with bags filled with sawdust. Thunk, thunk, thunk - the sound of bag connecting with skull made the Simarrahns flinch, but the rest of the spectators were enjoying the show and egged on the contestants with loud cheers and jeers.

Then the favourite toppled off his perch, and the crowd went berserk. Eggs were thrown at the poor man, although most missed their mark and hit the hapless referee. "You hit like a girl!" shouted a tough guy in the crowd. "And scream like one!" shouted another, causing the others to guffaw as they made more disparaging comments about the poor fallen champion.

The third ring hosted the Javelin Throw, where a bunch of men and women were aiming javelins through a very difficult course - through rings of twigs hanging from a far-away post, in thick planks of wood, and in hairy water skins. The last was particularly gruesome, as the skins had been filled with pigs' blood which spurted out in bright red streams when the javelins struck it. "Oooh!" screamed the Rhinary kids in glee, as the ground soon became a red, squelchy mess.

"What little monsters!" said Ballan, and his friends agreed.

As soon as the javelin contest was over, the little kids ran to jump around in the bloody muck.

"Go darling, go!" encouraged a mother, as one of her kids clung to her dress. "See what fun the others are having. Josina," she yelled to an older girl, "take your little sister with you!"

In the fourth ring, archers aimed arrows at distant targets. Their skill was evident, as without much bother, their arrows flawlessly managed to find their mark. The Simarrahns were very impressed. "A few of these Rhinary archers, and Afritha's Gorgoths would not be able to come close to our army" observed Thorros.

"Especially if they used Kardian arrows with poison on their tips" remarked Ballan, and the others nodded in agreement.

The largest crowd was gathered around the fifth ring where a bunch of wrestlers seemed to be having a free for all! There seemed to be no rules – save one! Win any which way you can! The wrestlers were brutally savage – kicking, punching, throwing, biting, gouging, and head butting to get rid of their opponents one by one.

"These Rhinaries are the most blood-thirsty people I have ever seen" exclaimed Ballan, quite queasy at the sight.

Again, the crowd seemed to be having a wild time, egging the contestants on, making disparaging comments about the poor souls who lost the fight, never once sympathising with their swollen, bloody, smashed up faces! The winner looked just as beat up as the rest, although he had a wide grin on his face – marred by a gaping hole where three of his teeth had been knocked out. The crowd surrounded him and hugged his sweaty, bleeding, scratched up body, and happily smacked congratulations on his bruised back!

As the crowd moved on, they shoved the Simarrahns next to the final ring where two men - a slender young lad, and a tougher, brawny man were duelling with swords. The two fighters were quite evenly matched, and what the young lad lacked in strength and muscle, he quite made up with skill and agility. Surprisingly, the young lad soon defeated the bigger man!

Roghaar was so thoroughly engrossed in the duel, that he barely realised a stranger was talking to him. "What is your name, kind Sir, and where be ye from?" The tall man standing next to him enquired.

"I am Roghaar, son of Lord Tarquis of Simarrah..."

Before Roghaar could finish, the tall man grabbed Roghaar's arm, held it aloft, and shouted, "Next challenger be Roghaar Lord of Tarquis from Simarrah", and with a smart thump on Roghaar's back, pushed him into the ring! Another man, standing in a corner inside the ring handed him a heavy sword and a bronze helmet.

Completely confused, Roghaar found himself in the ring, facing the sharp tip of the victor's sword! He quickly jumped out of the way, but the sword followed right behind! Again and again, the tip gently nicked his shoulder. The warrior blood of the Lords of Tarquis ran deep in Roghaar's veins, and hastily putting on the helmet, he turned to face his adversary.

It took all of Roghaar's nimble footwork to keep out of the way of his opponent's sword. The lad was tremendously skillful, and Roghaar felt sweat pour down his face and neck as they fought up and down the ring. The young warrior's sword lightly grazed Roghaar's flesh quite a few times, and Roghaar knew that if the boy had wanted to, he could have inflicted serious damage several times over. Try hard as he would, Roghaar could not keep up with the Rhinary warrior. The young man was extremely quick on his feet, and easily escaped Roghaar's sword. Roghaar fought with all his heart and strength, but in spite of his best efforts, he very quickly found himself on the ground, the tip of his young opponent's sword against his chest!

With a light laugh, shaking off the helmet, the victor stepped away, and Roghaar, much to his deep embarrassment found he had been bested by a lovely young girl! Sparkling green eyes, bright with mischief, smiled at him. Her skin was soft - the colour of warm caramel, and her golden hair was a mass of thick, flowing curls. Roghaar felt like a fool lying in the dust, his face covered with sweat and dried blood where this lovely warrior's sword had lightly grazed his cheek.

"And the Champion of the Sword is Lady Sheronas of the House of Markhone!" the tall man who had pushed Roghaar proclaimed.

Putting away her sword, the girl helped Roghaar up. "You look a bit dazed. Can I help you, stranger?" she asked.

"We have come from Simarrah to seek aid of Lord Markhone," replied Roghaar a trifle sheepishly. "The tall man just pushed me into the ring with you."

Sheronas laughed, "Well then, he did you a favour of sorts, because I am Markhone's daughter, and second in command of his army. Now what can I do for you?"

The men were taken aback at her words, although Roghaar did feel a bit better. There was no shame in being defeated by Lord Markhone's second in command, even if she was just a young girl!

Just as Roghaar was trying to explain their mission, she was urgently summoned elsewhere. "Meet me at the castle, where we shall talk after the Feast. Of course, you are all invited", and she walked away.

"Oh, I love feasts" grinned Thorros.

"All Simarrahns loves feasts, you idiot" laughed Ballan.

The castle looked magnificent as the reddish gold rays of the setting sun warmed the soft golden stone, showing to glorious advantage tall towers, turrets with flags bearing Lord Markhone's coat-of-arms flying proudly in the wind, and wide stone ramparts lined with even more flags! Flanking the gigantic wooden gates leading to the castle, two ferocious stone lions kept silent vigil. A pair of heavy pewter urns held blazing torches, their flames towering over the entrance-way.

The grounds behind the building had been cordoned off, and long trestle tables covered with pristine white cloths were placed in neat rows. Each table comfortably seated over sixty people. At the head of the rows, a special round table was set up for important guests. Lady Sheronas beckoned the Simarrahns to join her there, seating Roghaar on the chair next to hers. Roghaar felt quite rough and uncouth sitting next to the elegantly dressed guests while still in his travelling clothes, now stained with dust and sweat from his combat with Sheronas.

"First we feast, then we talk" said Sheronas, and the others readily agreed.

Liveried servants served the food with a flourish, uncovering each platter as it was placed before the guests. The food was a bit strange and looked quite unappetising to the Simarrahns – huge joints of almost blackish meat, thick chunks of lumpy looking roots swimming in a blue soup, and funny looking balls of dough to accompany it all.

Thorros, hungry after the tiring day, took a big helping of everything, hoping it would taste a lot better than it looked. Almost gagging over the heavy flavours, he forced himself to finish the horrible meal, so as not to appear ungracious to their generous host.

Roghaar and Ballan sniggered, and poked fun at Thorros as he bravely put down bite after bite. Very wisely, they had taken very small portions, and managed to finish the unsavoury meal.

"Here Thorros, you seem really hungry" teased Roghaar. "Let me give you some of my meat."

Thorros grabbed his plate out of the way, as the other two burst out laughing.

Dinner was followed by a very strange squishy looking dessert accompanied by strong coffee and a selection of wines.

Politely refusing dessert - Ahur only knew how THAT would taste, the men relaxed with their drinks.

"Lords and ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen, warriors and... everybody else" the announcer obviously fancied himself a bit of a comedian, and he got a chuckle from the crowd, now relaxed and waiting for the entertainment. "Presenting.... the Queen Rhinlandia pageant!" The crowd went wild, whistling and clapping and waiting for the ladies to make their appearance.

"Oh, I am glad we came here today" Ballan whispered to Thorros.

"Better not let Mrs. Ballan hear you say that!" replied Thorros with a grin.

But unfortunately for Ballan, the contestants, although quite attractive, were not judged for their beauty, but instead for their powerfully muscular physiques. The talent segment consisted of the women showing off their strength and skills in battle!

"I don't think Mrs. Ballan has anything to worry about" grinned Roghaar. "I doubt Ballan has the guts to even speak to one of these ladies."

The lovely contestants spent the better part of an hour showing off their muscles and their skills. Finally, one very thrilled young lady was crowned "Queen Rhinlandia" with a heavy bronze war helmet. Eyes bright with tears of joy, holding a huge bouquet of assorted weapons in her arms, she walked around all the tables flexing her muscles.

"I would not like to spend the evening with any of the ladies who lost" quipped Thorros. "None of them look too happy."

"Let us go inside and talk." Once the show was over, Sheronas led the Simarrahns into the castle.

Comfortably settled on thickly padded chairs, Roghaar explained their situation at great length, and told Sheronas how desperate they were to get help from Lord Markhone's armies.

### LARA KON

Kyroz, Brinn, and Tarwyn had been close friends for over four years, right from the day they had first joined the Royal Guards. Thrilled to be together on this epic adventure, the young men set sail for the kingdom of Lara Kon with a lot of excitement and a little bit of apprehension. Lara Kon was a land of mystery. Nobody had ever seen a Lara Konian before – they just never went outside their kingdom, and it was rumoured that outsiders were not welcome there either.

"I wonder what Lara Konians look like" pondered Kyroz.

"I wonder what they will do to us" said Brinn.

"Boil us and eat us? Perhaps humans taste good to the Konians?" Tarwyn had a very active imagination.

Kyroz laughed. "I think, at the most they will just haughtily order us to leave, or something like that. But I am determined not to leave without getting them to help us."

"I hear Konian warriors can fly!" said Tarwyn.

"I wonder, does the witch Poppadom fly? You know, with a broomstick and all?" asked Kyroz.

"I could not believe it when Firdoz said that she was some kind of super-witch! She always seemed a bit strange to me, you know? Very gawky and weird!" Brinn tried to imitate Poppadom's funny mannerisms, which set the other men laughing.

"Better not make fun of her Brinn" Kyroz cautioned. "Perhaps she will turn you into a cross-eyed toad or something!"

"I think Brinn will make a wonderful toad!" Tarwyn laughed. "He already has a ton of hairy warts."

Brinn threw a chunk of bread at Tarwyn, and soon the two were punching and wrestling in fun.

"Okay, that's enough, you two" Kyroz broke up the mock fight. "Honestly, I cannot imagine how we are going to fight Afritha with an army made up of idiots like you" he grinned.

Breathing hard after their punch up, Tarwyn and Brinn took up the oars again.

"There seems to be a big ship approaching" Kyroz shaded his eyes to get a better look at the vessel.

"Ahhh! Now that's what I call a ship, unlike this miserable little tub of ours" exclaimed Brinn in delight.

It was truly a splendid ship. A two masted schooner, made of heavy dark wood, white sails billowing proudly in the breeze, she seemed to be headed directly towards them.

"They will crash right into us!" Kyroz hurriedly tried to get their little boat out of the way, while Tarwyn and Brinn jumped up and down wildly waving their arms, hoping to attract the attention of the schooner.

"I think they mean to do exactly that!" Tarwyn was terrified when the schooner did not change course. "Let's jump overboard!"

"Calm down Tarwyn. I am sure they don't mean to ram us" Kyroz was trying really hard to stay calm and collected although it was very difficult.

"I am sure it is somebody from Lara Kon sent to kill us before we set foot on their precious land" Brinn was panicking as well.

By this time, the ship was almost upon them, but then thankfully it came to a smooth halt just an arm's-length away.

"Ahoy, me hearties" a loud gruff voice shouted out. A crazy looking man with a filthy bandana tied around his head and a strange two-headed creature perched on his shoulder, stood on the deck of the schooner, smiling widely at them with filthy rotten teeth.

"Pirates!" yelled Brinn and Tarwyn in unison. The Simarrahns had heard of pirates and how cruel they could be, but this was their first encounter with a real one. All three were terrified.

"No need to be sceered" the old pirate guffawed. "Us won't hurt ye. Just give us yer treasure."

"Treasure?" replied Kyroz, very puzzled. "We don't have any treasure."

"Be ye lying t' me?" the old pirate seemed a bit angry now, and his smile was fast disappearing.

"No, no Sir. We would never lie to you." Tarwyn was really scared now.

The pirate kept looking at them with beady doubting eyes. He did not seem very steady on his feet.

"Quarter Master! Ahoy there, Quarter Master!" he shouted loudly. A young man came running by his side, and shoved a bottle in his hand. The Pirate Captain took a long, satisfying swig from the bottle, and wiping his mouth with the back of his filthy hand, shouted orders to the Quarter Master.

"Board yon galleon and bring me swag." Then turning to the Simarrahns, "If ye be hornswaggling me, us be scuttling yer ship."

"Sire", mumbled the poor Quarter Master, jumping into the little Simarrahn boat. "Yon no galleon, but jes' a small boat. There be nuttin here but some ropes an' canvas."

"Arr. No galleon? No swag for me? Arr.." the Captain swayed and took another swig from his bottle.

Then turning to the Simarrahns, he bowed low before them. "Carry on, me hearties." He turned around and walked away, laughing. "Poor boat, poor boat. No swag for me. Ropes an' canvas! Hahaha!"

"Cap'n be three sheets to the wind agin" the young Quarter Master mumbled, as he climbed back onto the pirate boat.

The schooner turned around and left. The Simarrahns, relieved but shaken, continued on in their 'poor' boat.

"Make for Lara Kon" Kyroz said to his crew.

"Aye, aye Cap'n" mocked Brinn as Tarwyn saluted smartly.

As they were approaching the shores of Lara Kon, the calm waters of the Sea of Shu-Tzi-Kaar suddenly turned turbulent, and harsh cyclonic winds overpowered their ship, spinning it round and round violently like a helpless teacup in the churning waters. Using all their skill, Kyroz and his companions barely managed to keep the vessel from smashing on the rocks. Then as suddenly as they had arrived, the winds vanished, and the men, breathing a collective sigh of relief, brought their boat in to the shore.

"What was that?" Brinn asked once they were safely on land.

"I guess a 'welcome' of sorts from their Wind Goddess?" muttered Tarwyn.

"More like a warning," said Kyroz. "My friends, I think we need to tread very carefully in this place. We already seem to be quite unwelcome here."

Walking towards the town square, the Simarrahns noticed that the people of Lara Kon, men as well as women, were all dressed in tights and matching tunics, but only in colours of white, red, and black. The citizens, although curious, bowed politely in greeting, and then continued on their way.

"Well, at least they don't want to attack us" murmured Brinn, as the Simarrahns made their way to the town square.

When they arrived, the Simarrahns could not help gasping at the sheer magnificence and beauty in front of their eyes. Right in the centre of the square, was a huge intricately carved statue, at least seventy feet tall of a fire breathing dragon carrying the beautiful Wind Goddess on its back! The statue was carved from the rarest red jade, so fine it was almost translucent! Every detail of the dragon's fiery breath, every hair on the dragon's mane was lovingly sculpted in the beautiful stone.

Behind the statue stood immense criss-crossed arches of delicately carved ivory, leading to the Temple beyond. And far beyond the Temple, towering above the town like a lumbering ogre, was a colossal mountain of stark, bare, black rock, with an Eyrie perched right at the edge of the highest peak. It was a very strange dwelling – bleak, and yet mysteriously awe-inspiring! There seemed to be no path leading up the mountain, no access at all.

After the Simarrahns oohed and aahed over the magnificent town square, they decided to go to the Temple for information. Very cautiously, they entered the Temple through one of the ivory arches. Although they got the feeling that they were being watched very closely, nobody tried to stop them. The courtyard was filled with men and women earnestly practising the warrior arts. Different coloured tunics seemed to symbolise different levels of skill. Konians dressed in red only fought others in red; those in black battled only one another, as did those in white.

"I feel as though I am in some magical realm of red, white, and black, where other colours do not exist" said Tarwyn, fascinated by the intricate yet ferociously graceful moves of the warriors. The women fought as viciously as the men - spinning, leaping, kicking, even biting and smacking and punching, but with such elegance as if performing a well choreographed but dangerously deadly dance!

Suddenly, the sky above the town darkened, and looking up, the Simarrahns held their breath in sheer amazement! Never had they seen a sight such as this! A spectacular dragon with shimmering gold and silver scales, bejewelled wings, and a long multi-hued tail was soaring in the skies directly above. The next instant, the beast dived straight towards them.

"Run!" shouted Brinn, and made for the Temple building. But before he could take even a few steps, the majestic dragon swooped down, and in front of their astonished eyes, transformed into a dignified old man, and stood in front of them, arms crossed, his clear bright eyes keenly searching their faces.

InogiYong knew from the moment he was born that he would grow up to be a Dragon Lord. Naturally that was his destiny. Didn't his mother always tell him so? Each night as she tucked him in bed, she told him stories about the heroic deeds of all the Dragon Lords in their family, including his own father and grand-father. Then she would hug him and kiss him and whisper "Good night my little Dragon Lord. Sleep well, my son" and turn off the light.

You'd think a dragon mom would be less drippy! But all moms are alike.

Even at the Academy, InogiYong was the best student in his lot. He always knew all the answers, and could barely keep still during quiz time. Naturally, he was not very popular with the other dragons, but he did not care! He was going to be a Dragon Lord, and live in the Wind Palace serving the Wind Goddess and protecting her.

The Dragons of the Wind were magical. Beautiful to behold, with scales of shimmery gold and silver and bronze, wings in jewelled shades of emerald and sapphire and ruby and amethyst, and long, silky tail feathers, they lit up the Wind Godess' Empire in the Clouds like a thousand dazzling constellations. Only the very best among them were selected to serve the Goddess as Dragon Lords.

As the years went by, InogiYong's ambitions grew even bigger. He not only wanted to be a Dragon Lord, he now wanted to be the Commander of them all. He was perfect in all the required subjects – Warrior Arts, The Science of Flight, Translating Unknown Languages, Political Debate, and Palace Manners and Graces. He graduated top of his class (naturally!), and was soon selected to serve the Goddess in the Palace of the Wind.

InogiYong was inducted into the service of the Wind Goddess on his hundredth birthday. The young dragon was proud to be the youngest ever to receive this honour.

"Serve the Goddess well", advised his mother, lovingly granting him her blessings.

"And control your temper" his father admonished. His father had served the Goddess for over seven hundred years, and was very proud of his young son. Being a well experienced Dragon Lord himself, the old man recognised his son's weakness. "If you lose your control over yourself during battle, you lose control over your enemy as well" he often advised his son.

InogiYong was a great success as a Dragon Lord. He performed his tasks diligently, got everything just right - much to the annoyance of the other Dragon Lords, and always went the extra mile to please the Goddess.

The only time he incurred her wrath was when he lost his fabled temper. The Goddess had given him a couple of stern warnings, and young Inogi was trying really hard to keep calm. But it was so very difficult!

As the years went by, InogiYong's ambitions soared higher than his flights across the clouds. He quickly rose in the ranks of the Dragon Lords, often stepping over others to get to the top. In time he became extremely unpopular among his peers.

The Wind Goddess, observing his ambition grew slightly worried.

'This is not good', she thought to herself. 'This is the first time my Dragon Lords are divided within their ranks. Although, Inogi's proficiency does keep them all on their toes... But still......'

Somebody else noticed InogiYong's ambitions as well. The Commander of the Dragon Lords, an old, experienced, battle-scarred war hero was well aware that Inogi was gunning for his job. Rokiy had served his Goddess for almost a thousand years, and he was not going to let a young whipper snapper like Inogi take over his well earned position, no Sirree!

One night, Rokiy got together with a few of the other senior Dragon Lords for dinner at the Officers' Club. After a gourmet meal, the Dragons were relaxing with heavy beakers of finely aged wines.

"InogiYong is creating ill-feeling among the ranks" he stated. "We must do something about him before he takes over and destroys the group altogether."

"Yes, he is quite the little tyrant, isn't he? Just the other day I saw him ordering the new recruits about, and going on and on at them until they were almost in tears!" mentioned an old Dragon Lord with a floppy belly, enjoying a fat cigar - a very difficult thing for dragons, since it is hard to breathe out smoke and fire at the same time!

"He wants your job, he does" Rokiy's second-in-command remarked.

What are we going to do about him?" asked one of the others.

After many hmmms and hunhsss and aahhhhs, the Dragon Lords decided to let InogiYong dig his own grave.

"His temper is something fierce" said Binog, an easy-going, relaxed dragon. "You know how we always make sure never to provoke him? Well, let us stop walking on egg shells when he is around. Let us just be ourselves. Pretty soon, he will lose his temper, and throw raging tantrums, and show the Goddess his true colours. As we well know, the Wind Goddess does not tolerate rudeness or aggression among her Dragon Lords. And that will be the end of InogiYong!"

"Or he will just be so angry all the time, his blood pressure will hit the roof, and he will get a stroke! And THAT will be the end of InogiYong" laughed young Jacko who fancied himself a wit.

In the coming weeks, the other Dragon Lords soon drove Inogi to new heights of exasperation as they giggled during drill, and did not polish their scales to perfection, and flew out of formation, and jabbered with their mouths full, and did a hundred other things that annoyed him.

In only a few weeks, the famous temper was flying unchecked, and InogiYong was shouting left and right at anybody who dared upset him in any way. Although the other Dragon Lords longed to keep away from him, they knew this was the only way to be rid of InogiYong once and for all. Then they could all go back to being a united, happy team once again.

The inevitable happened, faster and more deadly than anybody could imagine!

One morning, InogiYong soared high up above the clouds, making his way to the Palace, flying almost as swiftly as the wind. As always, he felt powerful and invincible.

A young civilian dragon, making loops in the sky flew into InogiYong's path.

"Move, young one" Inogi ordered. "Out of my way!"

Without paying him any heed, the young dragon continued swirling and whirling around the Dragon Lord. He was too happy to pay attention to anybody or anything around him. He had just proposed marriage to the most beautiful dragon lass, and she had accepted him. His heart and head bursting with joy, he did not hear the angry Inogi's words.

"I said, get out of my way! Or else...." Inogi shouted loudly. But the young dragon was once again deaf to the warning.

InogiYong had had a very trying week with the other Dragon Lords and his patience had worn extremely thin! He was furious about being ignored, and that too by a young dragon of no consequence at all! His famous temper took over, and in a flash of anger, he puffed a deadly puff of fire at the young dragon, and struck him with his powerful wings. The hapless young dragon fell burning to his death, a look of dumb surprise on his face, as though only just realising what was happening to him. His dying eyes seemed to be asking, 'Why me? What did I do?'

A furious Wind Goddess appeared almost immediately before InogiYong! "What have you done?" she asked in a thunderous voice, eyes shooting darts of lightning. "Is this how my regent behaves? With such arrogance and anger? I have been watching you closely InogiYong, and your behaviour has been insufferable for the longest time. You are no longer Dragon Lord in my service. You are banished from my Palace in shame! Do not ever let me see your face again!"

And like an angry typhoon, she whirled away!

InogiYong's temper withered as quickly as it had flared, and he was horrified to realise what he had done. And horrified by his arrogant ways and his greedy ambition! Sick to his stomach, he begged pardon of the Goddess a million times.

He created a spectacular altar for the Wind Goddess, and spent every second worshipping her most devotedly, and begging her forgiveness. Seeing his complete sincerety, the Goddess relented just a little bit.

"You will go down to my city of Lara Kon and make your home on the Mount there. You will serve as my DragonMaster, teaching my people the Warrior Arts that you have mastered so well. Teach the young men and women of Lara Kon how to honour me – with humility and sincerity. And keep a watchful eye on the Temple for me."

"I will do as you bid, my Lady" InogiYong replied humbly.

"You will spend your life there in exile, among humans. Whenever you are in their midst, you will assume the weak human form. For the rest of the time, you will live as a dragon. Alone, with none of your own kind around you. Once a year, during the Shuniksha Festival, you will be allowed to visit your family for sixteen days."

Bidding a quiet and humble goodbye to his family, InogiYong settled in his Eyrie on the Mount as DragonMaster of Lara Kon, and spent his days serving the Goddess, as well as the people of Lara Kon. Under his watchful eye, the Temple flourished, and the people became experts in the warrior arts, and the Goddess was well pleased!

When the swooping dragon changed into an old man, the Samarans were at first too stunned to react. Kyroz slowly released his breath. Very cautiously he approached the straight-backed figure that stood before him.

"Sir" he bowed low before the old man. 'I have no idea why I am bowing before this man, but I just feel as if I must' he thought to himself. "We have come from the kingdom of Simarrah, seeking help of the King of Lara Kon."

The DragonMaster, for that is who he was, heard Kyroz' tale calmly, no expression at all on his lined, weather-beaten face. Turning to the students behind him, he issued orders in a sharp staccato. He inclined his head in the slightest of bows, and gestured for the Simarrahns to wait. Then the DragonMaster turned around and quickly disappeared into the Temple.

The next instant a whirling, twirling blur of silver circled the Simarrahns, spinning around them like a furious top! Finally coming to a graceful halt in front of the astonished men, a youth dressed in silver bowed low and beckoned them with his right hand.

"Should we follow him?" asked Brinn.

"I guess we will have to, if we want to talk to their king" replied Kyroz. He tried to question the youth but was met by a wall of silence.

High up in the skies, they saw the dragon flying back to his eyrie atop the mountain, soaring gracefully in the wind.

### THE KHAN KHAN

The young lad in silver led the Simarrahns through a heavy bronze gate into a beautiful garden fenced all around with high stone walls. Miniature trees laden with pomegranates, apricots, persimmons, and cherries grew out of beds elaborately framed by heavy dark wood. A grey cobble-stone path led to a magnificent mansion built of soft silvery grey stone with heavy dark wood accents. It was indeed a dwelling fit for a King!

The youth opened the enormous dark wood door, and led the Simarrahns into the entrance hall. Although at first glance the room seemed bare, almost spartan, at closer glance they noticed delicate jade pedestals and dark wood tables packed with rare treasures of every kind. Bronze statues of winged horses stood alongside exquisite marble lamps and intricately carved curios of ivory and jade. A marble table held a collection of the strangest looking weapons the travellers had ever seen – unusually beautiful, gracefully delicate, yet incredibly deadly!

The young man then took them through another immense wooden door into what seemd to be the Throne Room of the King of Lara Kon. Again, although the room seemed very sparsely furnished, it held some of the greatest treasures from all the realms. In the centre of the enormous room stood another giant statue of the dragon with the Wind Goddess – this one, even more beautiful and ornate if that was even possible. The red jade was so breath-takingly delicate yet vibrant, it seemed alive! The wild flames blowing out the dragon's flared nostrils looked ready to set the hall on fire, and the flowing hair of the beautiful Goddess astride the dragon appeared to billow in a gentle breeze.

The walls boasted vivid murals of war horses, manes flying in wild abandon, as they flew over battlefields. Alongside one wall stood a simple, but immense throne made of the same heavy dark wood. Stunning as the room was, the man sitting on the throne dominated it completely!

He was not very tall, nor was he very muscular – in fact, he was a small wiry man, but his sheer magnetic presence dwarfed everything and everybody in the room.

The young lad halted in front of the King - for who else could he be, and bowing low, spoke in a very foreign tongue.

The Khan Khan finally deigned to look at the Simarrahns, whom he had previously ignored, and in a low but deep voice asked, "Why have Simarrahns come to Lara Kon?"

Kyroz very politely and thoroughly explained the situation to the Khan Khan who listened without interruption. When he was done, the Khan addressed the men.

"Lara Konians train in the warrior arts as worship of our Goddess who has bestowed her blessings and protection on our beautiful land and made it bountiful. We do not believe in your false god Ahur, and we have no fight with Afritha or her allies. We do not fight unless we are directly threatened; our warriors are not for sale or rent. While I sympathise with your plight, I am sorry I cannot help you. And that is my final word. But please do stay a while and enjoy our hospitality." Saying this, the Khan Khan summarily dismissed the Simarrahns from the room.

"But, but, your Majesty..." began Kyroz, but the youth who had brough them to the king quickly and firmly ushered them out. He led them to another beautiful hall, this one with a long, low table running through its length. The table was filled with every kind of food imaginable. Platters of meats, bowls of vegetables, tureens of soup, and heaps of sweets covered the entire surface of the table, while servants kept adding new dishes to the already over-laden table. The youth in silver bowed and offered the Simarrahns plates and goblets and beckoned them to eat. Then he silently vanished.

"What now?" asked Tarwyn. "Is there any way we can change the Khan's mind?"

"I don't think so, Tarwyn" replied Kyroz. "The Khan Khan does not seem like a man who changes his mind once it is made up. I think we have no choice but to return to Simarrah and see if we can help in some other way."

Dejected and disappointed, the Simarrahns made their way back to their boat that very same evening.

###  SAR-EL-MASH

Akelis, Yurich, and Maxil set sail for Sar-El-Mash. Akelis was eager to do all he could to free Vhari, while Yurich was just as eager to overthrow Mordross and put King Shoarib back on the throne. He had gone through a period of immense self-loathing for having once been the despicable Counsellor's guard, and was grateful for the opportunity to redeem himself. Maxil was the youngest of the three, and very excited to be included in this adventure.

Akelis and his crew did not have as pleasant a journey as the others. The Sea of Whispers was always very rough and choppy, and navigating the constantly churning, turbulent water required considerable skill and a very strong stomach.

Maxil had been sick throughout the day, and was very vocal about it. "This is insane! Oh gods, I shall never make it", he kept complaining whenever he was not vomiting off the side of the boat. "What is the point of this trip anyway? Even if we do make it alive to Sar-El-Mash, we will surely lose our lives in Haddeza. And I shall have suffered this terrible journey for nothing! I wish I was dead right now!"

"Let us give him his wish, then", said Yurich, completely fed up with Maxil's whining. "I am ready to throw him overboard – is that alright with you, Akelis?"

But their real troubles were yet to begin....

Later that evening the sea became a lot calmer, putting all three men in a better mood.

"I am so sorry my friends" Maxil would not stop apologising for his earlier whining as they ate their meal.

"Enough already" laughed Yurich. "You just have to find your sea-legs."

"This bread is really delicious. Goodbuns has outdone himself!" Akelis was devouring the crusty cheese stuffed bread with gusto. "And the wine is perfect!"

The other two smiled at each other.

After the meal was done the men sat and talked for a while, and then Akelis decided it was time to rest.

"We shall take turns" he told the other two. "Maxil and I will row for the first third of the night, then Maxil can rest and Yurich can take over his spot, and then finally I will take my rest and you both can take over the rowing."

The other two nodded, and Yurich made himself a comfortable bed with some tarps.

And then slowly in the still dark night, the whispers began.....

'Vhari, Vhari, Vhari. Why does everything always have to be about Vhari?' Akelis almost jumped! Who was whispering that? Was there any other person there, or was that just his imagination?

'What is so special about Vhari anyway', the whispers continued. 'All he ever does is get into trouble. And get others into trouble as well.'

Akelis shook his head violently. Had he fallen asleep at the oars, and was he dreaming? Or worse still, were those really his most secret thoughts?

'I don't think Akelis trusts me. He thinks I still work for Mordross. Why else would he not let me near the oars?' Yurich woke with a start. He could swear he heard a hoarse whisper in his ears. Looking around, he made sure nobody was there. Probably just my imagination, he thought, and tried to go back to sleep.

'Why does Akelis get to be the leader of this group? Why not me? I am just as good as Akelis and Yurich, yet they treat me like a child.' Maxil looked around sharply.

"Who said that?" he asked of the empty air.

"Did you say something to me?" Akelis asked him.

"N-n-no" Maxil replied, completely puzzled.

'Look at the big mess Vhari has created for everybody. An epic war! Not only Simarrah, but all the other realms too have to go to war to save Vhari. Better let the witch eat his heart! And good riddance!' Akelis almost jumped up from his seat, his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

'I am sure they are whispering 'traitor, traitor' in their hearts. No matter that I walked out on Mordross, risking death! But of course that is of no consequence to them. Everybody looks at me with contempt. Well, they can all go to hell - Akelis and his precious prince, and that idiot Maxil who throws up at the slightest sway of the boat!' Yurich sat up, ready to pounce on whatever was there. But all he could see were the two men rowing silently into the clear night.

'I bet that Yurich is Mordross' spy. I am sure he will report back to Mordross as soon as he can, and then we shall all be tortured and killed. And Akelis is too stupid to realise it. What an idiot I was to agree to this trip.' Maxil was quietly going crazy trying to figure out what was happening.

'How wonderful life will be in Simarrah without Vhari always trying to overshadow me' Akelis jumped up hearing the creepy whisper, splashed some cold water on his face, and tried to make some sense of what was happening.

'I wonder if the other two are hearing anything', he thought. 'Nobody is saying anything, but then would we dare mention whispers that could be echoing our deepest, darkest thoughts?'

Akelis' heart was thudding furiously. 'Do I really hate Vhari in my heart? Am I jealous of his popularity, his success?'

And immediately, Akelis knew the whispers were simply an enchantment. He knew he loved Vhari like a brother, knew that the happiest times he had were all spent with Vhari, knew that Vhari's friendship was genuine and that he would never try to steal the spotlight from Akelis. 'Even without Vhari, I would never be an extrovert, never do anything amazing or crazy or fun. Vhari is the best thing in my life along with Sreeka, and without him, life would have been very dull indeed.' With a sigh of immense relief, Akelis decided to talk to the other two about this experience.

Lost in his reverie, Akelis did not realise that Yurich and Maxil had come to blows, and were busy trying to kill each other!

"Stop it! Stop it!" Akelis shouted, getting inbetween the two fighters, and holding them apart. "This is the warning Firdoz gave us. He told us to beware of the enchantment of the Sea of Whispers. I have been hearing the craziest voice in my head, and I am certain, you have been as well. That is not me and it is definitely not you. It is just a malicious enchantment weaving its spell of spite to create enmity and discord between us. So please, please, please, stop fighting!"

Yurich and Maxil stopped brawling, and listened to his words warily - each ready to pounce should the other attack. It took all of Akelis' diplomacy to calm the men, and have them concentrate on their mission.

"Let us all sit together the remainder of the night and keep talking to keep the evil at bay. It attacks us when we are alone and vulnerable."

"For me," he continued, "the whispers made me believe I hated Vhari, that he had ruined my life. But I know that is really not true at all. I thought about it very carefully and honestly, you know."

"The whispers told me you all believed I was a traitor working for Mordross" said Yurich. Then noticing the shamed look on Maxil's face, "Oh no! You do think that, Maxil! How could you?"

"I swear I do not really believe you to be a traitor. Honestly! It was just those horrible whispers. I am so sorry, Yurich. I know you to be the bravest, most loyal friend. The whispers told me both of you were trying to hold me back...."

"Alright, now that we know how the enchantement works, we will not let it affect us. Keep talking my friends, and the whispers will not have a chance to get into our heads" said Akelis.

Thankfully, by morning the enchantment disappeared, only to be replaced by rough, choppy waters.

That evening, exhausted, and blue around the gills, the friends finally arrived in Sar-El-Mash. Maxil shook his fist angrily at the turbulent sea, and followed the rest of the group, his good humour restored now that the treacherous voyage was over.

The desert kingdom of Sar-El-Mash was exactly that! An arid wasteland of sand and rock as far as the eye could see. Caves had been cut into sandy hills, apparently the homes of the Mashee. The place appeared deserted; not a soul could be seen anywhere.

"What next?" Yurich asked Akelis.

But before Akelis could reply, Maxil almost jumped into Yurich's arms! Both men went tumbling down into the sand.

"What is wrong with you, now?" asked an angry Yurich. "Honestly, you seem to have taken leave of your senses!"

Maxil too terrified to speak, pointed his finger. Just behind the men, following them, stood a sleek dangerous-looking panther! The three friends immediately froze.

Akelis broke the tense silence. "Relax my friends", he said. "Remember, old Firdoz told us that the people of Sar-El-Mash turn into animals by day, and appear in human form only after sunset?"

"But this is a wild and ferocious looking panther! What if he is hungry?"

"He could have killed us and devoured us a long time ago had he so desired" replied Akelis.

Slowly, warily, the men continued walking. Now they truly did not know what to expect. Praying for a peaceful meeting with King Shams, they tried to look for the Royal Palace. But alas - peace was a distant dream in Sar-El-Mash!

Hair-raising, terrifying noises in the distance brought the men to an abrupt halt! Bone-chilling growls and yowls, screams and screeches, roars and snarls echoed in the desert around them. The Simarrahns stood rooted to the ground, terrified beyond belief.

"Now what?" queried a shaking Maxil. "I knew we should never have come here!"

"I wish I knew" answered Akelis. "For now I think we had best try and get away from this place until nightfall. It seems to me the beasts are engaged in some deadly altercation."

Not knowing which way to go, since the roars seemed to be echoing from all around them, the Simarrahns started walking ahead slowly and gingerly. They soon came upon a vast clearing in the distance. It looked like an arena where meetings were held. Rows of heavy rocks were arranged in a wide circle, with a huge, round, smooth boulder of black marble raised higher than the rest, right in the centre. Unfortunately for them, they had walked directly into the eye of the storm! The arena was full of angry, crazed animals – big cats for the most - clawing, biting, roaring, tearing - doing whatever they could to kill one another. It was the scariest sight the men from Simarrah had ever seen! The animals were so intent on their fierce battle, nobody spared the Simarrahns a glance!

"What do we do now?" asked Yurich shaking in his boots.

"Let us try to slink away to our boat and return to Simarrah" replied Maxil. The other two gave him nasty looks, although they themselves had no idea what they ought to do.

"Let us hide behind that enormous boulder right at the end" suggested Akelis, and the men slowly, very very slowly, made their way to the slight shelter offered by the immense rock.

In a few minutes it looked like the battle was coming to its deadly end. Many of the beautiful cats – tigers, panthers, leopards, were either dead or dying of their wounds. Some lay on the sand, trying to muster up the strength to drag themselves away. Birds of prey with damaged wings – hawks, vultures, eagles, crawled or hopped away to the safety of nearby rocks. Smaller animals that could, scampered away from the arena.

While the men waited in the clearing not knowing what to do next, from among the carnage there appeared a lion! Not just an ordinary lion, but a majestic creature! A regal lion! A superb lion! He was much larger than a regular lion. His fur, although matted with dried blood, was soft and silky, the colour of warm liquid honey. His mane, now tangled and dishevelled, was gorgeous and full. And when he opened his mouth, the entire desert echoed with his tremendous roar!

Akelis realised there was no point in running – they could never outrun a lion any way. And the panther was following right behind as well. So he asked his friends to stand very quietly in a non-threatening manner.

The lion slowly circled the trembling men, and then made his way to the big marble slab in the centre, and climbed up with great dignity, making it abundantly clear to everybody that this here was the victorious King! Akelis very slowly and carefully bowed in front of the King, acknowledging his royal position.

The lion, the panther, and the three Simarrahns waited, frozen in this weird tableau until the sun began to set in the stark Mashee sky. In shocked astonishment the men watched as the great cat slowly stretched and changed, limb by limb, and assumed his human form! He was as majestic a man as he was a lion! Tall, well muscled, with light golden tanned skin, King Shams had long flowing hair, and a very regal demeanour. The panther changed into a sleek, striking woman, and went up to her King and bowing low, kissed his hand.

"And now strangers, who are you, and what are you doing in Sar-El-Mash?" asked King Shams in a deep, powerful voice.

"I am Akelis from the Kingdom of Simarrah, and these are my companions Yurich and Maxil. The hermit Firdoz sends his sincerest greetings, and requests your help against Afritha the Evil."

A charming smile appeared on the injured king's face. "My good friend Firdoz? What is he doing in Simarrah? Any friends of Firdoz are friends of mine! Come, let us go to my palace, and you can tell me all about it."

The men accompanied the king to the Milayae-e-DubeShams – the magnificent Pavilion of the Setting Sun, built from the purest white marble they had ever seen. The terraces were draped with turquoise and coral coloured crushed velvet canopies, and the entire palace was lit with scented candles as far as the eye could see! Strategically placed in every corner to catch the light from the candles were thousands of dazzling crystals! The palace was a rare jewel of delight and luxury in the middle of the dry inhospitable desert! The Rhysians had never seen luxury like this ever before. They forgot their unpleasant journey, their horrifying experience of the battle they had witnessed, and almost forgot Simarrah as they dined and relaxed with King Shams and his people.

Akelis sat with the king while his wounds were being treated by the Royal Physician, and told him all about the prophecy, while the other two mixed and mingled with the good citizens of Sar-El-Mash.

"I would love to help you my dear friend" replied Shams, "but as you have witnessed first hand, I have more than enough on my plate, right here in Sar-El-Mash."

"What exactly is going on here?" queried Akelis.

"Well, it is a long story, but if you have the time...." replied the King.

As the sun set into the brilliant night sky, Nada woke up with a happy smile on her lovely face. Tonight, her adored younger brother Shams would be crowned King of Sar-El-Mash! And soon after the ceremony, she would be married to handsome young Bagha, a distant cousin, and begin her life in his home, and start her own family.

Nada spent her days as a beautiful swan, swimming happily in the gently flowing river behind the Royal palace. Her brother Shams was naturally a majestic lion, as was every male member of the Royal family.

According to the laws of Sar-El-Mash, the crown went to the oldest male of the Royal family, bypassing any older female siblings. Nada did not mind this at all. She had never expected to rule, never wanted to rule!

Seeing her awake, her maid stepped into the chamber with a smile. "Time to get ready for the ceremony, my Lady," she beckoned. Nada greeted the girl, and then followed her to the dressing chamber, where she was lovingly bathed, and her silvery hair brushed until it shone even brighter than the brightest star in the desert sky. Then she was helped into the most beautiful white dress, made with huge handfuls of glittering diamonds sewn into the softest velvet. Gorgeous sapphire clips adorned her luxurious hair, and a delicate lace veil covered her head. Nada ran to the ceremonial chamber, awaiting both \- her brother, and her husband-to-be.

The swearing in ceremony was a great success. Shams was very much loved by his subjects, and would make a superb King. The heavy gold crown of Sar-El-Mash fit perfectly on his leonine head!

Nada was hardly even aware of her wedding ceremony. It went by in a blur, and before she knew it, she was married to her handsome husband, and had left the palace for her new home.

However, within a few years, as soon as she had given birth to an adorable little son and a pretty little daughter, Nada realised that her husband was not the wonderful man she thought he was. Handsome on the outside, his heart was cruel and black! He was determined to wrest the throne of Sar-El-Mash, and Nada realised that he had married her only to have a sort of legitimate way to accomplish that! Bagha started spreading rumours that Shams had usurped the throne that should rightly have gone to his wife who was after all the first born child of the old King, and through her, to their own first born son Ravonn who was now eighteen years old. Collecting a group of rogues and rascals, he slowly incited revolution in the land, spreading lies and calumny against Shams. Promising his band of followers immense riches and high positions in court, he openly opposed the King at every turn.

"I claim the crown of Sar-El-Mash in the name of my beloved wife Nada, and through her, our son Ravonn!" he proclaimed all over the Kingdom. "Shams has usurped the throne from his older sister Nada and her son, and must return it or pay for his crime with his life!"

Many of the foolish citizens believed him, and thinking he had their beloved Nada's support, joined his revolt.

Nada, completely horrified by this turn of events, tried in vain to put an end to this craziness. One day, when she could stand it no longer, she boldly faced her husband. "Stop your mischief immediately, or I shall take my children and return to the Royal Palace to convince the people I want no part of the crown!"

"You traitorous wife! You wretched mother! Caring less for your own son than your thieving brother!" exclaimed Bagha in anger. Then slapping her hard across her face, he had her imprisoned in a tiny chamber behind his mansion. "I can no longer trust you" he proclaimed as he locked the door.

Poor Nada was never seen nor heard of since that day, and she spent her life alone and miserable in her shabby prison. A tiny little pond, green with algae, and fenced with sharp barbed wire, sufficed for the beautiful swan to swim in during the day, and for the night, she was locked up in the shabby bare room with bars on the single grimy window. The wife of one of Bagha's cronies brought her a tray of food each night, and threw some breadcrumbs in the pond for her daytime meal.

One day, a solitary sparrow flying near the pond saw the lonely, sad swan swimming mindlessly in the bracken water. Coming closer, he saw the royal gold band around her drooping neck! Swooping in loops all around her, he confirmed his suspicion, and then flew back to the Royal Palace. As soon as it was nightfall, he approached the King.

"My Lord," he said, bowing before Shams, "I bring terrible news. The lady Nada seems to be imprisoned by the evil Bagha, and I fear she will soon die unless you rescue her."

He then told his tale to the unhappy King who vowed to free his sister from the clutches of her scheming husband.

Those loyal to the King, and those who sided with Bagha fought innumerable battles with heavy losses on each side, with neither side gaining the upper hand.

"Only if my people hear of Bagha's evil from Nada's own mouth, will the foolish ones realise the truth and heal the rift between the Mashi," finished the King. "Will you Simarrahns help me free Nada? Unite my people, and I will definitely help you against Afritha!"

### KARDIS

Xerkis set sail for Kardis with his friends Nikkin and Millos, determined to somehow obtain lethal dwarfish weapons and resilient dwarfish armour for the Simarrahns.

Nephew of good King Shoarib of Simarrah, he loved his uncle with loyal love.

Xerkis lost his father when he was just seven years old. Porasht had been the most loving, happy, and jovial father any boy could hope to have. Young Xerkis' world was completely shattered. He just did not understand why he could never see his father again. He spent each day looking for him in all the places they used to visit together – the woods where his father taught him to quietly sit and watch deer graze, Goodbuns' Bakery, where he would buy Xerkis the sweetest sticky buns oozing bright red jelly, the Jumpstick arena where the two would go to cheer their favourite teams. Xerkis even searched the entire house – from attic to cellar, over and over again, loudly calling out his father's name. The sad young lad refused to go play with the other children, refused to go to the park, or explore the woods with his friend. His mother Loosha, already crazed with grief at the loss of her husband, now had to worry about a son who was retreating into himself.

And then King Shoarib, Porasht's older brother, stepped in! One day, the Royal Carriage appeared at Xerkis' doorstep, and out stepped the King. He held out his arms to Xerkis - this man who looked so much like his father, had the same crooked smile, and smelled like orange jam - just like his father. Shoarib took Xerkis to the cemetery where Porasht had been buried, and holding the lad's hand, he knelt by the grave. "Your mother tells me you keep looking for your father everyday. See, your father has not left you. There he lies, always close at hand. You can always come here and talk to him, and sit beside him, and he will always be there for you. Your father loved you more than anything else in the world, and that will never end. No matter where he is or where you are."

Placing a twig of deep purple oshwa flowers on the simple grave, he wiped the tears coursing down Xerkis' face, and took Xerkis' grubby little hand in his.

"Now, you and your mother will come live with me. How does that sound? Better?"

Xerkis clung to his uncle, a smile slowly shining through the tears trickling down his face.

Shoarib whisked Xerkis away to the Palace along with his mother, and the young child's life changed once again. He was surrounded by cousins and courtiers and Royal Guards – he was never alone for an instant! He had no time to feel sorry for himself. He had lessons to learn with the Royal tutor, fencing and wrestling to practise with the Royal Guardsmen, rowdy games to play with his cousins, and Royal functions to attend with his uncle who made absolutely no distinction between him and his own sons.

His mother too was smiling once again as she sat surrounded by the Queen's ladies, and had pretty tea parties with them, and rode alongside the Queen during formal state occasions.

And best of all, one day each month, King Shoarib and Xerkis would go visit Porasht - just the two of them, just by themselves. There Xerkis would sit beside his father's grave and tell him everything that had happened in great detail. And they would sit there for as long as he liked. The King often used this time to get a well deserved nap!

Xerkis' heart had burned with helpless fury witnessing the humiliation his uncle had faced from Lord Dreath. This fury blazed brighter day by day as the cowardly Mordross now invincible thanks to Afritha's vile presence in Simarrah, heaped insult upon insult on the helpless king.

"Shoarib my good man" Mordross would mock him, "I hope you are enjoying a pleasant stay at the tax-payers' expense. It is costing them a lot to keep you well fed - gruel and bread do not come for free, you know."

Or, "You know those ugly portraits of your revolting ancestors on the Palace walls? Well, our good citizens will no longer have to gaze on those eyesores. I have had Michlingli replace them with portraits of me wearing your Royal Robes - or should I say MY Royal Robes..? In any case, these are more pleasing to the eye."

Or, "Your wife is getting skinnier by the day. Not getting any more of her fancy feasts, I suppose. Anyway, it will do her a world of good to lose some weight."

Xerkis was beyond furious!

"My uncle, our King is locked up in solitary confinement in the filthiest section of the dungeon! I am not allowed to go and see him, although he does have some other rather unwelcome visitors - rats as huge as dogs, with fangs! And cockroaches that scuttle over him without fear! And that despicable Mordross who is worse than any rat! He enjoys taunting and tormenting Shoarib. Do you know he gives my uncle explicit details of every awful thing he has done in Simarrah, knowing how much it is hurting the King to know his beloved land is being destroyed day by day?

My Queen is under house arrest along with all her children, with nobody to attend to them. My mother has been banished from the Palace grounds, and thankfully has a kind aunt who has taken her in. And I was thrown into the dungeons for no reason at all!"

Xerkis spouted in anger to Nikkin and Millos as they sailed across the Sea of Hope, determined to do everything they could to return the throne of Simarrah safely to Shoarib.

"We have to find some way to get the dwarfs to join us" he continued. "They are fearless and ruthless fighters."

"And to give us weapons and armour. I have heard there are no weapons deadlier than Kardian weapons. And that their armour is almost impenetrable" mentioned Millos. "But they are also the meanest, greediest creatures, and demand enormous amounts of gold for their services."

"I have heard that Kardis has huge secret underground caves where the dwarfs store their hoards of gold. And on their birthdays, they are allowed into these caves where they roll around in the massive piles of gold as a special treat" said Nikkin. "Can you imagine that? A tiny little dwarf rolling around and jumping in mountains of gold!"

"That's like what we used to do when we were kids" said Xerkis.

"What? The King allowed you to roll in piles of gold? Does Simarrah even have that much gold?" Nikkin was astonished.

"No, you idiot! I meant we used to roll around in piles of raked leaves each autumn" laughed Xerkis.

"I'd rather roll around in gold" Millos wiggled his eyebrows, making the other two laugh.

Xerkis looked across the Sea of Hope, and thought what an apt name it was for their perilous trip. 'Hope' was all they were clinging to!

The rhythmic slap slap sound of the oars beating against the calm water was really soothing, and slowly the conversation died down, and the men relaxed in the beautiful sunshine.

"There seem to be an awful amount of fish in here" Nikkin remarked as he was manning the oars.

"I know. Our boat is completely surrounded by them. See how silvery smooth and beautiful they are!" replied Xerkis.

Sure enough, thousands of long and thin silver fish, their scales shimmering in the palest shades of the rainbow were swimming alongside their boat. They looked so lovely. The Simarrahns were delighted at this unexpected treat.

"Do you think this is normal?" asked Millos after a few minutes, a bit concerned. "There seem to be so many of them, and their numbers are rapidly increasing."

Soon the men could barely see any water around their boat. Every inch of the sea was covered with fish - and more and more appeared from all sides.

"What is going on?" Nikkin was quite nervous by this time.

"I have no idea, but it does not look good" replied Xerkis.

And then the fish started jumping into the boat!

"Hey! Get off! Get off!" Nikkin was in a panic as he tried to fling the fish away from him, back into the sea. But they just kept on coming.

"What should we do Xerkis?" he shouted out.

"Here take the bucket, the tarp, whatever comes to hand and shovel these creatures back into the sea" said Xerkis handing Nikkin the bucket they used to store fresh water.

Millos was shovelling fish out by the dozens using his bare hands. "Do you think they will sink the boat?" he asked.

"I don't know. Don't waste time talking" Xerkis replied. "Just keep throwing them back!"

But if they threw out a dozen, two dozen new ones jumped in.

"This is really not working" Millos said as he threw out another handful into the sea.

"I think we are going to drown" Nikkin predicted very gloomily.

"No, we are not going to drown. We cannot drown! We have to help King Shoarib! We have to!" Xerkis almost shouted.

Suddenly the water started churning violently, and a few metres away from the boat, the men saw an enormous open maw with about a million teeth emerging near the surface of the water. It was ten times as big as their boat! The silver fish were drawn into the mouth just like bath water is drawn into the open drain. Unable to resist the pull of the mouth, the little creatures went sliding to their ugly fate.

The Sea of Hope grew calm and tranquil once again!

The men looked at each other in wonder.

"What was that?" asked Nikkin. "Did that even happen, or did we just imagine it all?"

The rest of the trip went by without incident, and soon the Sea of Hope led them to the verdant shores of Kardis.

With hope and a prayer, Xerkis and his friends made for the interior of Kardis.

As soon as they arrived at a village, they made straight for the blacksmith's. Naturally every village in Kardis boasted at least three smithies!

"Can you please direct us to your King?" asked Xerkis very politely and respectfully of the blacksmith, a hefty young dwarf covered in soot, manning a huge bellows.

"King? We do not have any kings in Kardis. No Sir! No dwarf would bow to a king. But you can go talk to Jabob the Elder. He, along with the Council of Elders governs Kardis."

"And why would you be seeking our Elder?" asked another dwarf coming up from behind them - short, stocky, his muscles nearly ripping his dirty shirt apart!

Nikkin nudged Xerkis. Whispering from the side of his mouth, he said "Don't turn suddenly, but we seem to be surrounded by dwarfs. They are coming at us from all sides."

And sure enough, the three Simarrahns were completely hemmed in by dwarfs - short and tall, skinny and plump, appearing it seemed out of nowhere!

"Do you think we should run back to our boat?" asked Millos.

"I don't think for one instant that we would make it. These guys could haul us over their shoulders like so many sacks of coal", answered Xerkis. "And in any case, we really need their help."

"Perhaps they are just wary of strangers?" suggested Nikkin very hopefully.

"Oh sure!" replied Millos sarcastically. "See how scared they look? There are just over a hundred of them, all ripped and tough! Against three puny unarmed Simarrahns! Yes, I am sure they are scared to death of us!"

"There is no need to be nasty, Millos" said Nikkin. Then turning to Xerkis, "What should we do now?"

"Kind Sirs", Xerkis addressed the dwarfs. "We have come from Simarrah seeking aid of your people. We come unarmed and mean no harm. Could you please..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the blacksmith who seemed to be their leader, flicked his fingers, and at his signal, a few of the brawniest dwarfs rushed up to the Simarrahns and shoved rough jute bags over their heads. Then hauling the Simarrahns over their shoulders - exactly like sacks of coals, they dumped them into a room behind the smithy, and locked them in!

The men pulled the bags off their heads, and found themselves in a room with rough mud floors, a tiny, barred window up high near the ceiling, and a heavy wooden door painted a bright yellow. Nikkin banged on the door. "Is there anybody there? Open up! Open up, please!" he yelled. "We are visitors to your land. Is this how the dwarfs of Kardis treat their guests?"

But there was no response. The Simarrahns repeatedly banged on the door, and tried to kick it open, but to no avail. It was as sturdy as the dwarfs who had built it.

"What now?" asked Millos dejectedly nursing a throbbing shoulder.

"I am sure someone will come to talk to us soon" replied Xerkis calmly. "Perhaps they are waiting for that Elder of theirs."

After what seemed to be an eternity, but was actually only a couple of hours, the door opened slowly, and a stout old dwarf with a beard that almost reached the ground entered bearing a huge platter, a jug, and a big basket of bread. "Let's rush him" whispered Nikkin excitedly.

"Really? And then what? Walk casually through the streets pretending to be dwarfs?" Millos was known for his sharp, caustic tongue.

Approaching the Simarrahns, the old dwarf placed the food on the floor, and beckoned to the men to eat. Cautiously, the men gathered around the meal.

"I am hungry, but perhaps they are planning to poison us?" said Nikkin.

"They could have killed us ages ago, had they wanted to" replied Xerkis reasonably. "Let's eat. There is no point in starving."

On the platter lay a very mushy and unappetising looking mess. The Simarrahns took huge chunks of some very rough, chewy bread, sopped up the mushy mixture, and gingerly put it in their mouths.

"Ugh! That was one of the worst meals I have ever eaten" grumbled Nikkin, who really did not like this adventure anymore.

"Well there seems to be some wine in the jug" Millos said sniffing doubtfully at the liquid. "Perhaps it may taste pleasant, although it smells pretty awful!"

It was rather foul tasting, but the men soon chugged it down. Sitting around morosely, trying to come up with a plan, they slowly grew more animated, and suddenly were laughing and teasing and having a great time! Their problems really did not seem insurmountable, and they were confident they would soon be on their way to Haddezza with ships laden with Kardian weapons! They were feeling quite optimistic by the time they fell asleep!

The next morning saw the men clutching their heads, their bellies, and shading their eyes. "My head!" groaned Xerkis. "There are a million jack-hammers pounding through my brain!"

"Lucky you!" answered Millos. "My stomach feels as though Sukhi back at the Seven Seas Dairy is churning buttermilk in it. And churning really hard!"

"What do they put in their wine?" asked Nikkin. "And what are they going to do with us today?"

"We shall just have to wait and see", answered Xerkis. "There is no way out of this room until they let us out."

The day was a repetition of the previous one. Twice did the old man come to them with the same awful food, and although they tried hard to get some information from him, none was forthcoming. He did not even acknowledge them - just placed the meal on the floor, beckoned towards it, and left.

"Perhaps he is deaf" suggested Nikkin.

"Or has been ordered to ignore us... Or perhaps he just does not care" replied Millos.

As it grew dark outside, the men, completely fed up and frustrated, lay down on the hard mud floor. They were not really sleepy, but there was not much else for them to do.

### YAHNNI AND POPPADOM

QUEST FOR THE TRUE DAGGER

Finally it was Yahnni's turn to leave his beloved Simarrah. He would travel with Poppadom Schmuckle, and how that was going to work out, he just could not imagine! Their journey across the Sea of Mercury would be fraught with hardship and danger, and he wondered if young Poppadom would be able to handle it.

Invoking Ahur's blessings on the young acolyte and the teenage witch, Firdoz bade them a fond farewell. "Remember Yahnni, keep my amulet against your heart at all times, and be true to your task", he advised the young man.

"And you, young lady," admonished Ma Trumble who had come to see Poppadom off on this dangerous adventure, "keep your spells simple, and stay focussed on the task at hand. No short-cuts – Magick must be honoured with patience and perfection."

All the inmates of the dungeons and the loyal guards of Simarrah wished the pair good-luck and Godspeed.

Yahnni and Poppadom went to the shores of Simarrah where a small boat was waiting for them. In the boat were two blankets, a few small bundles of food, a skin of wine, and another of water. Yahnni started dragging the boat into the Sea of Mercury, when he heard the sound of crying close at hand. Turning around he saw a little child weeping his heart out, lost and alone. "Who are you little one, and why are you weeping?" asked Yahnni.

"I am the son of Morchee the cobbler. I am lost, and don't know the way home. Mordross' guards are all around, and they are all so mean, and I am so scared...."

Although it was time for him to set off on his journey, Yahnni picked up the weeping child, and gently wiped his tear stained face. "Come on, let me get you safely home" he said.

"Oh, just leave it to me", said Poppadom, and uttered a few strange sounding words. To Yahnni's complete stupefaction, the little lad turned into a homing pigeon and flew off into the horizon.

"Well, at least he will get home safely" Poppadom remarked casually.

"But.. but... but you turned him into a pigeon!" Yahnni had never been so shocked in his life. "What have you done? The poor child, his poor parents...."

"Oh, don't fret so much. The spell will only last a day or so. Gosh, you really sound just like old Ma Trumble!"

Troubled and upset, Yahnni dragged the boat to the edge of the water, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a filthy, mangy mutt trying to steal the bundle of food from it. Yahnni opened the bundle and threw a piece of bread at the mutt, who eagerly polished it off in an instant, and then looked at the acolyte with sad hungry eyes. Kind hearted Yahnni immediately gave the starving dog all his food.

"I could conjure up some food for him, you know" said Poppadom.

"NO! No more conjuring tricks. Just concentrate on plucking the Phoenix's feather – leave the rest to me."

Poppadom shrugged. "Oh well, if that is how you want to be..."

Muttering a simple prayer for help and guidance, the young man began rowing across the Sea of Mercury.

As the sun rose in the sky, the hot air felt heavy and oppressive, and Yahnni grew tired and hungry. Rowing the boat was hard work for just one man, and his arms hurt as though they were being wrenched out of their sockets. As night followed day Yahnni felt his lids close, and prayed hard to fight sleep. He thought longingly of his cozy little room behind the temple, his comfortable bed... He pictured himself sitting in his rocking chair, eating a slice of Mistress Corly's apple cake along with a nice hot cup of tea...

While Yahnni was dreaming about his creature comforts, Poppadom was dreaming a completely different dream. She was swirling and twirling to the most romantic music, gorgeously svelte and attractive, with a proudly adoring Yahnni leading her across the dance floor. All the mean and vicious young girls of Simarrah were watching them with envy, and every young man wanted to dance with her. She was waltzing gracefully, her beautiful auburn hair curling very softly around her face as Yahnni bent to whisper words of love in her delicate shell-like ear.

"Grab the oar! Poppadom, grab the oar! Quickly, before it slips into the water...."

Poppadom was jolted out of her daydream when a spray of cold salty water hit her face.

"I am so sorry," Yahnni apologised, "I am really tired, and the oar just slipped from my hand."

If only he could rest a bit.....

Yet he dared not, for fear of missing the magical little swirl of water which would take them to the Ruins of Donger.

'If only Firdoz had not thought me capable of so impossible a task' thought the young man for the hundredth time that day.

On the third morning, Yahnni saw a tiny island in the distance! An island with large, shady trees bursting with ripe fruit! An island where they could eat and rest! As if pulled by invisible hands, his boat started making its way towards this little piece of Paradise in the midst of the hot, unending sea.

"No Yahnni! Beware the lure of the island of Kherapa. It is but a deceit to trap you and keep you from your quest. Turn back immediately before your boat splinters on the sharp jagged rocks near its shore." Yahnni jumped at the sound of Firdoz' voice in his ear - it was as clear as if the sage was sitting right next to him. Yahnni gently touched the amulet Firdoz had given him, glad for its presence and protection.

Wearily, he tried to turn the boat away from the island, but the boat seemed to have a mind of its own, making for the island as if pulled by invisible ropes.

"Turn back, Yahnni!" Firdoz warned frantically, but alas, Yahnni weary and exhausted could barely hold on to the oars.

"Yahnni, look! We are surrounded by awfully spiky rocks! Our boat is going to rip apart!" shrieked Poppadom. Her frizzy hair stood straight on end with fright, framing her anxious face like a bright red halo. Her round mouth looked even rounder and her eyes seemed to pop right out of her face.

"I'm doing my best Poppadom" Yahnni shouted back as he desperately tried to navigate through sharp rocks which had suddenly sprung up from nowhere.

Even the sea grew unexpectedly fierce, and wave after wave lashed at their boat furiously. If the rocks would not tear the little boat apart, the waves certainly would.

With a loud crack, the boat hit a rock and the wood splintered, throwing Yahnni and Poppadom into the churning water.

The two young people were struggling hard to stay afloat in the swirling seething sea. Yahnni got hold of one of the larger pieces of wood from the boat, and with his other hand he held on tightly to a rock.

"Here Poppadom" he shouted trying to make himself heard over the roar of the water. "Grab this plank! Quickly!"

He watched anxiously as the young witch was finally able to seize a corner of the wood.

"Now give me your other hand" he told her. As her hand came closer to his, he gingerly let go of the plank and grabbed her arm, at the same time holding on to the rock for dear life.

Poppadom had no idea how long they waited like that – tossed around by the water, her arms aching, salt water in her mouth and nose. 'It would be so easy to let go', she thought to herself. 'I wish I had stayed at home. I don't think I like adventures at all.'

"Poppadom, don't let go, hold on tight" Yahnni shouted. "I am going to try to get us to the island. Just don't let go."

Poppadom nodded bravely. Then slowly, Yahnni let go of the rock, quickly grabbing the one right next to it, his other hand firmly clutching Poppadom's.

Slowly but surely, Yahnni led them both through the rock-infested water, and with a massive sigh of relief, they collapsed on the shore.

"Are you alright?" he asked the gasping girl.

"Do I look alright?" Poppadom was crying and shouting at the same time. "Look at me! I am wet and cold, and my hair is soaked, and my clothes are ruined, and I am hungry!"

Yahnni smiled.

"Well, the island has plenty of fruit, so we can get you fed in a jiffy" he replied. "Come on", and he pulled her to her reluctant feet.

But surprise, surprise! All of a sudden Kherapa was just a huge bare rock! The trees and fruit had simply disappeared. "They did not exist in the first place, Yahnni", Firdoz spoke in his ear, almost making the Acolyte jump. Yahnni was grateful that the treacherous sea had not wrenched the amulet from his neck.

Yahnni knew he had to find some food, and quickly. Hunger was gnawing at his belly like a dog gnawing on a treasured bone, and even Poppadom seemed genuinely famished. He was just about desperate enough to ask Poppadom for help!

"Ah, so now my magic is good enough for you, is it?" taunted Poppadom, who was actually quite hungry as well, having finished the ample supply of cakes and sweets and fruit she had stuffed in her voluminous pockets. "Well, let's see what I can do." Muttering some weird sounding words under her breath, the young witch flicked her fingers, and lo and behold! A plump silver fish plopped right beside them. Poppadom looked even more astonished than Yahnni! "Er... that was not supposed to happen" she said. "Let me try again." She kept trying different spells and flicking her fingers, and the poor astonished fish got bigger and then smaller, and then fat as a roast chicken - which Yahnni was longing to eat, and then as skeletal as a thin reed. But, no matter how many times Poppadom snapped her fingers, the fish remained a living, breathing - albeit gasping by this time, fish!

Yahnni was ready to tear the fish apart with his hands and eat it raw if need be – he was that hungry! But the acolyte's soft heart prevailed over his rumbling stomach, and with great regret and a huge sigh, he threw the writhing fish back into the sea.

"I am s..s..so s..s..sorry," Poppadom burst into tears. "It is just that Ma Trumble made me practise the spells of Slumber and Strength and Earthing and Holding over and over and over again these past days. And I am so tired that I cannot seem to remember anything else. And now I cannot even conjure us some food."

"That's okay, Poppadom. Really. Please do not cry. We will be just fine." Yahnni comforted the distraught witch, suddenly realising what an enormous burden had been thrust upon such a young girl.

Yahnni knew he had to find some way to get back to their quest. But how would they do that without their boat? "Let us search the island for some way to get out" he held out his hand to Poppadom.

'Hmm, this is not so bad after all', thought Poppadom, as she and Yahnni walked around the rocky island holding hands.

"The island of Kherapa has lured many a sailor to his death" Firdoz whispered in Yahnni's ear. "That should help you."

'Why doesn't Firdoz speak like a normal person and tell me exactly what I should do?' thought Yahnni. 'Why do wise men love to act so mysterious?'

After much walking and exploring, Yahnni and Poppadom arrived upon the far side of the island. And then, Firdoz' words made perfect sense. For all along the rocky shore lay hundreds of planks of wood - the broken remnants of all the ships trapped by Kherapa.

"It looks like a graveyard where boats come to die" snickered Poppadom who seemed to have gotten over her distress.

"This is just what we need" Yahnni breathed deeply with relief. "Help me gather the largest pieces."

Very soon the two of them had made a rough little raft, tying the wood together with a strong weedy vine that had somehow managed to survive on the inhospitable island. Now came the difficult part – rowing away from the island without getting snagged on the wicked rocks of Kherapa.

Focussing on the enormous task ahead, Yahnni, his eyes watchful and his rowing steady, managed to get their little boat safely back upon the Sea of Mercury.

### ISFANDAR

Back in Isfandar, the Simarrahns and the trolls huddled together in terror in the trap, awaiting their unknown captor. In less than an hour the rain stopped - and then the real nightmare began! A heavy thudding sound filled their ears, and the ground shook violently. The captives felt themselves slowly pulled up from the pit - pulled up and up and up. Before they could lay eyes on their captor, a filthy rag was thrown over the entire net, and the frightened group was violently dragged along the twisted path for yet another few miles. They had no idea who their captor was, but they knew he had to be really powerful and huge to so easily haul them over such rough terrain.

Finally, after many bumps and thumps and bruised shoulders and bruised thighs and jarred heads, they came to a halt, and a soft voice called out "Come my children, see what daddy has brought you". The pitter- patter of little feet approached, and finally the rag was dropped from the net. Expecting to see some horrible monsters, the Simarrahns were astonished and then delighted to see a bunch of large sized babies! Babies about three feet high, with the softest skin, and fine baby hair, gathered all around the men and trolls and looked at them with glee. The boy babies wore blue jumpers, and the girls wore cute pink dresses covered with pretty flowers. For the first time that night, Zaeve smiled! This they could deal with! Sure, the babies were slightly larger than most full grown humans, but other than that, they looked completely cute and harmless. Giggling with pure delight, the babies poked their fingers at the trolls, quickly pulling them back when the trolls bared their teeth.

"What are the other creatures, father?" asked one of the babies.

"Humans, my son" came the voice from far above their heads. "The most delicious meat you will ever taste! Why, the last time I ate some, I was just a little lad myself. Cousin Roil was getting married, and my father and his went hunting just to get human meat for the wedding supper. Ah, I shall never forget that sumptuous meal!"

Zaeve and Pelle looked at each other in shock. Who were these Drools? Cannibals? They had heard of such creatures in legends, but never dreamed that they really existed!

"Can we play with them first?" asked one of the babies. "They look so strange! Just like us, but so tiny and delicate!"

"Leave them alone!" warned a gentle female voice. "Tonight I will marinate them in gristleberry juice and herbs. Within three days, just in time for Dilly's birthday, I will bake the most delicious human pie you have ever eaten. Tonight though, we shall have a lovely grilled troll! Tilly, go start the fire, and get the large skewer oiled and ready."

The trolls were shivering in fright! "Do not worry", said Zaeve. "We shall talk to them human to human, and make them understand that we are not food. I am sure they will set us free."

"You fool!" shrieked the leader of the trolls - fear making his voice shrill. "These are not humans! These monsters are Drools. And this family is the very worst and most cruel of all the Drools. So cruel, that they were exiled from their own tribe and now live in our forests torturing the fae in every possible manner!"

Pelle held out his hand to one of the baby Drools in a gesture of friendship. The child promptly bit him, hard and sharp. When the baby's face was close enough to the net to see clearly, the Simarrahns were startled and shocked! Although the creature looked like a human baby from afar, his eyes burned with intense fire! They were red and hideous, reflecting his evil, fiendish soul. There was no doubt that this was not a gentle - or even savage human being, but something far darker and demonic. The creature had no eyebrows and no eyelids to hide his evil orbs for even an instant. His fingernails were pink, but curved like cruel talons, and though he had no teeth, his gums were sharp and pointy! Soon a pack of Drool babies surrounded the two Simarrahns, and started poking at them with sharp knives, licking the blood straight from the knives with "oohs" and "aahs", shaving off the terrified men's eyebrows, and trying to play with their eyeballs! "Leave them alone" ordered the female voice. "You don't want them to spoil before they are ready."

The trolls received far worse treatment, since they were not considered a delicacy. The Simarrahns watched with growing horror as the Drools tore little bits of troll flesh - one little girl pulled out one of the troll's eye and played with it before popping it whole into her mouth! Thankfully, the trolls had almost fainted from sheer fright. Then daddy Drool, whose face they still could not see, nor did they want to, gently picked out the Simarrahns and dropped them into a giant stone vat. Next he pulled out one of the trolls from the net, and after tying the rest securely in the net, hung it on a hook next to the heavy iron front door.

The Simarrahns heard the unfortunate troll's death screams, as he was skewered alive over the roasting spit. Never would the two young men ever forget the terrible sounds they heard that night.

A while later, mummy Drool poured some stinky foul liquid into the vat, drenching the Simarrahns with its vile stench and filthy stain.

###  RHINLANDIA

Back at Lord Markhone's Keep in Rhinlandia, Sheronas listened quietly and calmly as Roghaar finished his incredible tale. Looking at the serious faces of the Simarrahns, she said, "I am Lord Markhone's daughter. My father is not away; he has been extremely ill this past month, and none of our physicians are able to cure him. He is wasting away by the day, and we are all completely helpless. It is not wise to let our soldiers see their leader in such a weakened and feeble condition. They will either lose morale, or the more ambitious ones may attempt a coup! My brother and I thought it prudent to spread word that he was visiting other lands. So while he remains secluded in his chamber, my brother takes care of the day to day governing, and I am in charge of the army. I will consult with him and give you my decision in the morning. Now rest this night as my guests, and we shall meet tomorrow."

Lord Markhone was a passionate hunter. The Great Hall in his Keep was rife with trophies of legendary beasts much to the envy of other ardent hunters.

He and his hunting party were nearing the Gordor Forest in the Shann Mountains. The Gordor was said to be home to the legendary Boar of Shann – a boar large and fierce, with tusks as huge as an elephant's that could easily gore a man to death. Lord Markhone wanted to catch that beast with a passion that bordered on obsession.

No hunter dared enter the Gordor Forest. Gordor was protected by strange magical forces, and hunters who were foolish enough to enter it, were never seen again, although terrifying screams and horrendous moans of pure agony could be heard just before they disappeared.

Lord Markhone's companions refused to enter the dark and eerie forest, and waited for him on the outskirts. The fearless warrior, bow in hand, walked boldly into the forbidden territory. As soon as he stepped in, it seemed as though the forest was summoning up the most unholy spirits to scare him away. Menacing footsteps followed the hunter wherever he went, although when he turned around, nobody was there. Voices seemed to whisper fear into his heart, and the air hung heavy and oppressive. Ghostly disembodied heads screamed out his name, imploring him, calling him, and then harsh whispers warned him away – promising the most gruesome doom if he did not leave immediately. Leaves crackled where there was nothing moving, branches creaked as he passed by, their creepy tendrils clawing hungrily at his face. Some unseen creature scurried past him again and again, making him tremble with dread. Lord Markhone, would have run out of this place post haste, but for his obsession with the famed trophy.

Three days and three nights he hunted, looking for signs in the leaves and trees and the ground, sniffing the air for the scent of his prey. On the fourth day, he spotted the huge tusks... The boar was more magnificent than he had imagined! Over five feet tall, and longer than a horse, he had soft white fur, covered with sharp golden bristles! His tusks were incredibly long and extremely well honed. Lord Markhone, using every trick in his experience, slowly stalked the animal. Making sure he was in perfect range, he aimed straight at the animal's heart. His aim was true, and with a look of utter surprise, the magnificent Boar of Shann dropped down.

Immediately, the Forest of Gordor was blanketed in inky darkness! For Lord Markhone, the entire forest - in fact the entire world - just disappeared. There he stood in the midst of black nothing, and there in the distance lay the fallen boar bathed in pale murky light. Adjusting his eyes, Markhone noticed that a robed figure next to the boar had removed the arrow from its breast, and was desperately trying to revive the beast. The figure lovingly cradled the boar's head in his arms, and tears running down his face, muttered and chanted loudly in a very strange and scary tongue. When the boar did not stir, he finally got up and faced Lord Markhone, red fury blazing in his eyes!

"I am the sorcerer Jaduvan" he thundered. "And you have dared enter my forest and slain my son! Now you must pay."

Eons ago, even before the birth of Afritha, Jaduvan had fathered a beautiful son with the nymph Minaz. Shafar had his mother's gorgeous sea green eyes, her golden hair, and her delicate features. But he also had his father's black heart! His behaviour got uglier and uglier as he grew older, until finally even his own mother, terrified of him, left him in his father's care and fled to her own people. Shafar's cruelty grew with each passing year, until one day he brutally tortured a beautiful deer from Ahur's special herd. Ahur in his intense fury changed the lad into a large, grotesque boar "to be hunted for sport, so he would learn fear". No amount of pleading from Jaduvan would change Ahur's mind, so Jaduvan brought his son to the Forest of Gordor where he laid protective spells to repulse all intruders. And there lived the magnificent Boar of Shann for centuries, safe from any hunter.

"Now you have killed my only son, and you shall pay for it!" announced Jaduvan shaking with fury!

"Look, your son is alive!" Markhone was never so thankful about anything in his entire life. "I can see his chest move."

Gently laying his hand on the boar's heart, Jaduvan looked up at the terrified hunter.

"You are very fortunate indeed", he said with a cruel smile. "He is not dead, but then neither is he alive. There is a small piece of your arrow lodged firmly in his heart which will not come out. Even my magic cannot pull it out. And for this, pay you must! As of this day, you too shall be a man living in twilight – neither alive, nor quite dead. Your life will reflect my son's. The day he succumbs to his wound, you will die as well."

And with a spin of his fingers, Jaduvan and the boar disappeared from sight. The world returned! Evil left the Gordor - it was just a beautiful, lush forest once again. Lord Markhone felt the ground spinning under his feet, and crumpled to the forest floor in a dead faint.

Two days later, his men who had been desperately searching for him found him, and took him back to Rhinlandia, where he continued to lay in deathly stupor.

Sheronas' guard showed the men to a huge hall where they were to spend the night. Sitting in front of a roaring fire, they sat talking about their exciting day in Rhinlandia, and proceeded to have a good laugh at Roghaar's expense!

"Roghaar, son of Tarquis defeated by a girl!" laughed Thorros.

"Well, at least Simarrah had a contestant in the Games of War" smiled Ballan.

"Yes, one who was defeated by a girl!" Thorros reminded them again.

"Perhaps he should have entered the beauty pageant" winked Ballan. "I am sure our gorgeous Roghaar would have easily won that one!"

Roghaar blushed a hundred different shades of red, but having a wonderful sense of humour, did not really mind the teasing. He went to sleep that night dreaming of his gorgeous green eyed opponent.

LARA KON

As Kyroz, Brinn and Tarwyn made their way back to their boat, they were depressed, frustrated, and furious that they had not been able to convince the Khan Khan to join their effort. He had dismissed them without even discussing the matter.

"I really hope that wretched cyclone does not come to see us off" muttered Tarwyn angrily.

"At this point I truly do not care" replied Kyroz. He was extremely upset, having failed his mission. He hated the thought of going back to Simarrah empty handed. "Hand me the ropes, will you Tarwyn?"

Luckily for the Simarrahns, this time around there was no angry Wind Goddess tossing their boat around like a little pebble on the seas. The men got the boat safely out of the harbour and set sail for Simarrah. Only then did they sit down to talk about their fruitless day.

"I will take this watch", said Brinn finally. "You should all try and get some rest. It is a long way to Simarrah."

"Roll out the tarps, Tarwyn", Kyroz checked the boat before getting ready to settle down for the night.

"Oh great Ahur! What have we here?" Tarwyn pulled two scared young people out from under the tarps. Much to the Simarrahns' amazement, it was the young lad in silver who had taken them to the great Khan Khan, along with a frightened young girl in red.

The pair from Lara Kon genuflected, and touched their heads to the ground before the astonished Kyroz, who immediately raised them to their feet. "What is going on? What are you doing here? Who is this young woman with you?" Kyroz had a million questions for them.

"Please Sir, my name is Gham-Zhi" said the lad.

"Oh, he can talk", Tarwyn whispered snidely.

"I am the eldest son of the Khan, and will be ruler after him. But I fell in love with Lhing-Kin here, and she fell in love with me." Here the young pair looked at each with such hope and love in their eyes, it immediately melted the Simarrahns' hearts.

"And why should that make you hide on our boat?" enquired Kyroz.

Gham-Zhi grew up hating the clan of Ruid-Kin. His clan, the Yub-Kin, had been mortal enemies with the Ruid-Kin ever since the first patriarchs of the two families had both laid claim to the throne of Lara Kon. Generations of Yub-Kin and Ruid-Kin had gone to war over the Khanship of Lara Kon. At times one clan was victorious, at times the other.

When Gham-Zhi was just a young lad, his father took every opportunity to imprint his hatred for the Ruid-Kin in his son's mind.

"Remember my son, the Ruid-Kin are of inferior status - undesirable even - yet they deem themselves worthy of the Khanship of Lara Kon. See how the jackal Khetu who sits as Khan behaves? Drunken parties, no respect for the Great Goddess, no discipline among his ranks! Why, even his sons dare to speak in his presence without his permission! How can such a low class person rule our land?"

"Do you know the Lady Ruid-Kin leaves her mansion grounds on her own? Without anybody to chaperone her?" Gham-Zhi's mother sounded scandalised, although Gham-Zhi sensed that secretly she would have loved to have such freedom.

His father continued, "I don't want you to have anything to do with any of his sons, do you understand? Especially since you will now be seeing them every day at the Temple Academy where you will begin your training."

"Yes father", answered an obedient Gham-Zhi.

And the sons of both the clans kept well away from one another.

But, destiny took a hand in clan affairs in a way that neither clan was prepared for.

Lord Ruid-Kin had a beautiful daughter who too was starting her training at the Temple Academy. Lhing-Kin was young and ambitious, and determined to be the best warrior in Lara Kon. Her identity as Ruid-Kin's daughter was kept secret from all but the DragonMaster of the Academy. Although all young girls trained at the Temple, it was not seemly for the Khan's young daughter to do so. It had been a very hard struggle for Lhing-Kin to get her father's permission.

"But father", she would argue every time the Khan refused her, "I am so much better than my brothers in combat. I am stronger, swifter, and more focussed. You have said so yourself. So why can't I go to the academy? All the other girls in Lara Kon go there. Why must I be punished?"

"You are the daughter of the Khan Khan of Lara Kon. You hold a very special position in this land, and must honour it" her mother would sternly rebuke her.

"Mother, how can you say that when you do exactly as you please?" the young girl retorted.

"See? See how my own daughter speaks with me? This is all because you have spoiled this girl! You have given her more attention than your sons, and now she behaves like a boy!"

"Please father..." Lhing was smart enough to appeal to her father.

Very reluctantly, albeit secretly pleased, Khan Khetu allowed his precious daughter to join the Academy.

Five years later, Lara Kon witnessed a major event.

Riza Yub-Kin challenged Khetu Ruid-Kin to mortal combat for the throne of Lara Kon. Khan Khetu had no choice but to accept the challenge.

Both men had a month to prepare for the fight. Their best fight-masters trained with them, practising night and day to get them ready for combat. Special strength giving meals were prepared in both kitchens, special spicy oils used to massage the warriors' muscles, special meditations performed for focus, and special rituals conducted to ensure the favour of the mighty Wind Goddess!

The great day finally arrived! All of Lara Kon assembled in the Temple courtyard to witness this fateful event. The Yub-Kin gathered to the left, and the Ruid-Kin to the right of the great altar. Finally, the DragonMaster flew in, dressed in a magnificent tunic of gold, and both combatants bowed low before him. Touching their heads to his feet, they sought his blessings. Exalting the mighty Wind Goddess, the DragonMaster gave the signal for the fight to begin!

Never had the good people of Lara Kon witnessed such a magnificently deadly fight! Both men were evenly matched and determined to win! Both were fearless and strong in spirit. Since this was a fight to the death, their weapons had well honed tips and sharp blades. They fought with their hands, and then with their swords, and then with their daggers, and finally with any and every weapon at their disposal. At times Khetu had the upper hand, at times Riza scored. The fight went on and on and on, the two men so quick and agile, that at times they were just a blur – whirling figures that were barely visible to the naked eye. Khetu wore the silver colours only allowed the Khan Khan and his family, and Riza the black of the challenger. Silver and black twisted and flew, parried and thrust, lunged and slashed in a deadly dance of death! The air was rent with the shrieks of a thousand tortured demons. The sky became dark as the rivals whipped up windstorms and thunderclouds! Eerie moans echoed through the air, whispering agonising calamity. Calling on the revered Wind, Riza shot a hail of tiny thin silvery needles from his palm, straight at Khetu. Khetu directing the Wind with his palm, blew them safely away from him. Then with a flick of his wrist, Khetu created a turbulent tornado headed directly for his opponent, who with a graceful flying leap, evaded it, only to alight twirling on Khetu's chest - where he danced the deadly dance of a thousand typhoons!

As the day progressed, the men grew tired, and the tempo of the fight slowed down, but with their spirit and determination still strong, neither one gave up.

"When will they die? I am hungry" a little voice was heard in the crowd.

"Shhh.." the child was immediately hushed into silence.

Almost at the end of the day, Khetu collapsed from his multiple wounds. The DragonMaster declared Riza the winner and the new Khan Khan of Lara Kon, and then both combatants were taken away by their clans to tend to their wounds.

With his dying breath, Khetu summoned his family. "Promise me you will avenge my defeat" he instructed them. "Promise me you will restore honour and the crown of Lara Kon back to the Ruid-Kin family." An hour later Khetu Ruid-Kin succumbed to his injuries...

Riza Yub-Kin was crowned the Khan Khan of Lara Kon amidst much celebration, but Khetu's daughter's heart thirsted for revenge against the new Khan's family.

Gham-Zhi was a natural at the warrior arts, and excelled at the Temple academy. One day, bowing low before his teacher, he noticed a young girl in the junior group looking directly at him. Gham-Zhi was quite flattered. He had often noticed this lovely girl with her beautiful almond shaped eyes glancing at him. Gham-Zhi gave her a quick smile, and showed off a bit during class. He was very aware of her presence all through the week.

Two days later, early before class began, when Gham-Zhi was practising his leaps, he saw the young girl walking towards him. 'Oh, I think she is coming to speak with me', thought Gham-Zhi, and he pulled his collar up sharply, and ran a quick finger through his thick hair. He then continued his leaps with studied nonchalance. The young girl slowly approached him, but instead of a shy smile, or a soft word, she flicked her finger in his face – the sign of a challenge!

Poor poor Gham-Zhi was completely confused! This was definitely not what he had expected!

"You are my junior" Gham-Zhi said, finally gathering his woolly wits. "So while I respect your enthusiasm, I cannot fight you!"

"Ah! So the son of the Khan Khan is scared to fight? Even when challenged?" she replied scornfully.

Now that was a challenge Gham-Zhi could not ignore. Especially not from this little girl he had sought to impress! And definitely not in front of his fellow students who were all suppressing their giggles....

Seeking the DragonMaster, the two young people bowed before him for his permission and blessings.

"No, I cannot allow this fight" said the DragonMaster who was the only one aside from Lhing-Kin and her brothers who knew her true identity. No amount of persuasion could change his mind.

"Some other time, young Khan", the girl promised Gham-Zhi.

A few months later, Lhing-Zhi received a proposal of marriage from Luk-Man, son of another powerful lord of Lara Kon. She refused him outright, bringing much shame and dishonour to Luk-Man's family. The young man, highly insulted was not going to take this lightly.

"Kidnap the lady Lhing-Kin and bring her to me" Luk-Man paid some scummy ruffians. "She will realise what an error of judgement she made by refusing my proposal!"

One day, as Gham-Zhi was walking down a quiet, shady lane, he heard signs of a scuffle. Running towards the sounds, he was shocked to see five rough men trying to subdue a furious Lhing-Kin. The young girl was fighting with all her might, but she was no match for five armed men. Throwing caution to the winds, Gham-Zhi rushed to help her. Using every one of his fighting skills, he kept the men at bay, urging Lhing-Kin to run away.

"I am not a coward" she yelled, and continued fighting by Gham-Zhi's side. Together, the two although unarmed, were unbeatable, and the five hired goons realising they could not succeed, quickly took off.

Seeing Lhing-Kin's ankle was twisted and swollen, Gham-Zhi tried to help her home.

"No, I am fine. I don't need your help" she said as she tried to walk away. But exhausted and badly injured, she could barely take a step.

"Come on" and Gham-Zhi gently lifted her "tell me where you live, and I shall get you home safely."

Too tired and hurt to argue any further, Lhing-Kin showed Gham-Zhi the way to her house. A completely shocked Gham-Zhi arrived at the gates of the Ruid-Kin manor.

"You must not enter the gates" Lhing-Kin whispered. "My brothers will kill you if you do."

"I will meet you in the lane tomorrow and we shall walk to the Academy together" Gham-Zhi whispered back.

Nodding her head and smiling shyly, the young girl limped to the front door.

From that day on, the two were inseparable, although they could only meet in secret. They dared not reveal their friendship to anybody at all.

But Luk-Man had not forgotten the insult to his honour. He had his servant BingBing follow Lhing-Kin, hoping to find some way to hurt her. He did not have to wait very long.

In less than two days, BingBing came running to his master, a sly smile on his crafty face. "Master, master, you will never guess what I discovered!"

"Spit it out BingBing" ordered Luk-Man. "I have no patience for your theatrics!"

"The daughter of Khetu Rud-Kin and the son of Riza Yub-Kin are in love! Oh, the dishonour! Oh, the shame!" BingBing was almost dancing with joy!

"You've done well, BingBing" praised his master. "Now run along and let me think how I can rub the most salt in this gaping wound."

And Luk-Man went to the Yub-Kin and Rud-Kin homes to spread the 'good news'.

"Naturally, we knew our love was doomed from the very start, as our families will never allow our marriage, but now that Luk-Man informed our parents, there could be just one horrible outcome" continued Gham-Zhi, "a fight to the death between Lhing-kin and me!"

"Great Ahur!" exclaimed Kyroz, "How barbaric!"

"What if you just refused to fight?" asked Brinn, horrified.

"Whichever one of us refused to fight would have to watch the other slowly tortured to death" replied Lhing-Kin, tears shining like early morning dew drops in her eyes.

"You poor children" Tarwyn almost cried along with Lhing-Kin.

"When you came to Lara Kon, I realised that the great Goddess in her wisdom brought you to our shores to show us a way to escape and be together" concluded Gham-Zhi.

###  SAR-EL-MASH

At the Palace in Sar-El-Mash, the Simarrahns listened to Shams' request with dismay.

"We are Simarrahns! We have no knowledge of war. How can we free the Royal Princess?" asked Akelis.

"It is not your sword in battle that I require, but the one very great advantage you possess over us Mashi", answered the King.

"And what might that be?" asked Maxil.

"You my friends retain your human form all through the day, while we Mashi turn into animals. That is the advantage that can help me free my sister and be done with her evil husband once and for all! You see, both sides are evenly matched in battle, whether as animals or humans. But, a clever human strategy when the opponent is but a beast, will turn the tide of this revolt", said the wily King. "I have a plan. In the daytime, when Bagha and his men have taken their animal avatars, you my friends, can storm his household with human weapons of war, and free my poor hapless sister."

"Three Simarrahns are no match for ferocious tigers or any other fierce beasts" murmured Maxil. He would have laughed at the absurdity of the notion had it not been for the seriousness of the situation.

"But my friend Maxil, human fire, loud noise, and the smell of man are all extremely intimidating to animals, fierce or not! If you were to attack Bagha's house beating war drums, fiery torches in hand, it would strike mortal terror in Bagha and his cohorts. Then one of you could release my poor sister from her wretched prison and bring her to the Royal Palace. Immediately after sunset, I will have her appear on the Palace balcony, and address our subjects. Most of them are fairly decent folk who have been persuaded by Bagha that they are doing the right thing for Nada."

"What do you think?" Akelis consulted his companions.

"Let's do it!" replied Yurich. "What do we have to lose?"

"Only our lives, you fool!" replied Maxil.

"What choice do we have if we want to help Valias defeat Afritha?" replied Yurich.

"And why are we so eager to help Valias, anyway? We cannot help him much if we are dead, can we?" Maxil argued.

"I think Akelis, we may have a revolt in our very own ranks" laughed Yurich. Then turning to Maxil, "My dear Maxil, do you really want us to return to Simarrah instead of helping in the war, simply because we are scared of a few animals? Do you really want to live in Afritha's Simarrah? We are not doing this just for Valias, you know. We are doing it for us, and our families, and our land."

"When you put it that way...." said Maxil, gloomily adding, "well, count me in!"

Laughing the friends hugged one another.

"Well Your Majesty, it looks like we are going to free your sister after all" Akelis smiled at Shams.

"Or die trying", Maxil was still quite pessimistic.

"Let us make a proper plan" replied the grateful King. Then he summoned his minister Hamd, and the men all sat down to discuss strategy.

Early next morning, as soon as the sun rose in the magnificent Mashi sky, the three Simarrahns mounted three of the swiftest Mashi horses, and made their way to Bagha's mansion. The little sparrow that had spotted the Princess previously, flew by their side, showing them the way. Some of Shams' warrior cats accompanied the party, although they would not be of much help once the drum began its deadly beat and the torches were lit, but their presence made the Simarrahns feel just a little bit more courageous. This adventure was so different from their peaceful lives in Simarrah! But they marched on bravely, talking and joking to get rid of some of the tension.

Soon they arrived at Bagha's grand residence. It consisted of a huge almost fortified house, with magnificent gardens laid out in the front. Behind the house, lay acres of fallow ground, fenced all around. The Simarrahns saw beautiful stallions pacing the area, sniffing the air, and whinnying loudly at their arrival.

"Are they signalling the other animals?" asked Maxil, a bit nervous. "Will the big cats come charging at us now?"

"Well, we shall soon find out" replied Akelis.

"The drum! Start beating the drum!" whispered Yurich urgently.

"Not yet" ordered Akelis. "Let us enter the grounds and see what we find before we take any action."

Soon the little group approached the immense iron gates that led to the magnificent property. The gates were very high with sharp spearheads embedded all along the top, to discourage any would-be intruders. The part of the fence closest to the gates was made of twisted, thick wood, strangely hued, and heavily knotted. The instant the party came up to the gate, the fence came alive and started hissing angrily! Thousands of serpents, thick as a giant's forearm uncoiled slowly, and slithered close to the Simarrahns, ready to attack! Akelis froze.....

Vhari and Akelis were playing their usual game of Hide and Seek in the woods behind the Seven Seas Alehouse. Akelis was usually always the winner of this game, since Vhari could rarely ever stay quiet and still for very long. Akelis on the other hand, was very patient and calm, and could remain in his hiding spot all day if necessary, and did so many a time, until Vhari, completely fed up would forget the game and take off for something more fun.

Today, Akelis had found the perfect hiding spot. There was a tiny bowl shaped hollow in the ground beneath the heavy branches of the Frenki tree. Akelis settled himself in the hollow, and covered himself with fallen leaves and twigs. He was very pleased with himself - Vhari would never find him here! Curled up in the hollow, lulled by the warm sunshine, Akelis soon fell asleep! A short while later, he was woken by a dry rustle near his foot. Glancing down fearfully, he discovered his very worst nightmare! A thick snake, attracted by the warmth of his body had made its way into the hollow, and was even now snuggling up against his leg. Akelis was terrified! He was quite a brave young lad, but serpents were his secret horror! He would rather face a crazed warrior brandishing a sword, than look at a snake! He could hear Vhari scrambling in some bushes close at hand, and longed to call him, but at the same time was too scared to make the slightest sound! What if the serpent bit him? Or worse still, hugged him to death? Akelis shut his eyes tight and prayed fervently for Vhari to find him in time.

Luckily Vhari seemed to have read his thoughts, because in no time at all, he stood over the hollow, laughing and shouting. "Found you, found you! My turn to hide now!"

Akelis, eyes round with terror, stayed frozen, unable to move.

"What is wrong with you?" asked a puzzled Vhari. "I can see you quite clearly, you know."

Very slowly, Akelis pointed his finger at the snake lying coiled near his calf. Without pausing for an instant, knowing how scared Akelis was of snakes, Vhari poked at the snake and drew it away from his friend. Akelis almost jumped out of the hollow, and started running away as quickly as his shaky legs would allow. Only when he was at a safe distance, did he turn around to look for Vhari. Then he saw it! A sight that gave him nightmares for years and years afterwards! The fat snake was coiled around Vhari's shoulders with its flat head swinging straight in front of Vhari's face. The beady serpentine eyes were staring directly into Vhari's! Akelis knew he had to do something to save his friend, yet at the same time, he knew he could never go anywhere close to that repulsive reptile! For the one and only time ever, Akelis deserted his beloved Vhari and ran out of the woods! He hid under his bed all day, not coming out until he heard yelling and screaming coming from Vhari's house next door.

Vhari lay on his bed, his mother crying and fussing around him, his arm swollen to thrice its size, and neatly bandaged. Bayrod told the sobbing Akelis that Vhari had wandered into the woods and been bitten by a snake. Luckily, the snake was not poisonous, and though its venom had swelled up Vhari's arm, Vhari would survive! For two days and two nights Akelis did not move from Vhari's room, although he was too ashamed to show his face to his friend. He sat silently in a dark corner praying for Vhari to be well and strong again. He felt he would die if anything went wrong with Vhari's arm. Akelis' mother, as well as Quinran and Bayrod were more worried about Akelis than Vhari, especially when Akelis refused his food!

"What is wrong with the child?" enquired Quinran anxiously.

"Vhari is going to be just fine you know" his mother told him gently. "Perhaps you should come home and eat and rest a while. You can come back here tomorrow morning."

But Akelis refused to give up his vigil.

"Akelis, Akelis, wake up!" he heard Vhari's voice in his ears later that night. "I am hungry. Can you get me something to eat?"

Akelis woke up with a happy start! He must have finally fallen asleep. With great relief and happiness, he hugged his friend and would not let go!

"Let go!" yelled Vhari. "You are hugging me tighter than that snake!"

Akelis immediately let go, and sobbing uncontrollably begged his friend"s forgiveness.

"For what?" asked Vhari. "I know how terrified you are of snakes. I also know that if it was a dragon or even a monster from the Dead Lands you would have saved me. But a snake is a very different thing....."

Today, Akelis was not going to let the twisting writhing serpents on Bagha's fence stop him from helping Vhari. Gulping, he swallowed his fear and gave out the command, "Light the torches, and beat the war drum!"

Thanks to the crazed din from the monstrous war drum, and the brightly burning flames of the torches, the serpents slithered away from the humans, but stayed alongside them at a safe distance, their eyes glowing with hatred! Shams' wild cats pounced on them, and a deadly battle ensued.

Holding aloft their torches and swords, with Yurich creating a deafening cacophony on the drum, the men advanced into Bagha's house.

Shams had suggested the Simarrahns take the warrior cats inside the mansion walls, but Akelis - although really tempted, had made him realise that that would just add to the confusion. Shams' cats would not be able to tolerate the drums or fire either, and would be quite useless during the confrontation. And how on earth would the men be able to distinguish Shams' cats from Bagha's?

So with much trepidation, the three humans marched into the enemy's stronghold. And then the cats showed themselves.....

With Bagha the tiger at the head, flanked by two ferocious panthers, and three jaguars, the cats menacingly approached the humans.

"Aren't they supposed to fear the drum?" asked Maxil, shivering in his boots.

"Do not let them sense our fear!" commanded Akelis.

The men went forward bravely, wildly waving their flaming torches, sharp swords at the ready.

Yurich's deafening drum beat sounded threatening even to the Simarrahns. He was possessed with desperate maniacal fury, which passed through his hands into the drum. Harder and harder, faster and faster, the war beat deafened all the creatures in the room! Although the cats did not quite retreat, they stopped advancing! The humans cautiously marched ahead – a slow step at a time, looking the menacing cats right in the eyes. ("I have absolutely no idea how I survived those unending few minutes" Maxil later confided to his friends. "I fully expected to be torn apart by those deadly claws and fangs!")

The wild cats, unable to stand the cacophony of drums, shouts and shrieks, as well as the dreaded smoke and fire, slunk away, all the while watching the humans with threatening eyes.

The little sparrow guide fluttered gently near Akelis, guiding the men to the bracken pond in the back.

"Yurich, you and Maxil stay right here and keep these cats at bay, while I go to the Princess Nada" commanded Akelis.

Following the sparrow, a brightly lit torch in each hand, Akelis made his way to the princess' prison. Down the narrow passage, a rabid dog with crazy yellow eyes followed him, barking manically all the while, but thankfully, kept his distancefrom the terrified young man.

There was the swan – head drooping, floating aimlessly in the brackish water. She looked more dead than alive. Opening the special padded silk bag Shams had given them, Akelis gently lifted the quivering bird, and carefully placed her in the bag.

Mission accomplished!

Warily, the Simarrahns - wielding torches, the swan, and the sparrow made their way back to the mansion gates. Yurich furiously beating his drum although he felt his hand would fall off, led the way.

Outside the gates, Shams' swiftest horses whisked the little party away from Bagha's fortress and back to the safety of the Royal Palace.

Bagha and his cats followed in full pursuit, only to be greeted outside the gates by Shams' animal warriors, and a deadly battle between the royal cats and the rebels soon commenced.

But the Princess was safe with Akelis and his companions.

### KARDIS

Cooped up in their tiny prison in Kardis, Nikkin and Millos had been getting on each others' nerves, arguing and fighting over every silly small thing. Xerkis had to act as mediator many times over. At least sleep stopped the constant bickering.

But this night turned out to be slightly different...

Tossing and turning and unable to sleep, Xerkis heard the slight scraping sound of the door being opened very slowly, very silently. He rolled over to Millos, and putting his hand over his friend's mouth, pointed in the direction of the door.

Immediately alert, the two waited in silence, hardly daring to breathe, wondering what was coming next.

The door creaked open; the tiny creak sounding as loud as a witch's shriek in the quiet night.

'This cannot be one of our captors', Xerkis thought. There was no need for them to worry about the noise. Perhaps help had finally arrived....

A dwarf entered silently, lighting a candle once he had closed the door and placed a tiny rock against it so it would not bang shut. He appeared to be middle aged - although with dwarfs it was really hard to tell - and was dressed neatly in a brown jacket that did little to hide his massive belly, and blue pants held together by a silver belt with a shiny gold buckle. His beard extended to the middle of his belly, and was neatly oiled and braided.

"Come on, let's go" he whispered to Xerkis. "Make haste, but be very quiet. If we are caught, it is my neck along with yours."

Nikkin was also awake by this time, and with relief in their eyes, the men quickly gathered around the dwarf.

"Follow me" he said, opening the door very carefully. The men followed him into the dark night, releasing the rock so the door swung shut.

"Who are you? Where are you taking us?" the men had many questions to ask of their rescuer.

Putting one finger to his lips, he pointed to a small alley behind their prison. The Simarrahns followed him gratefully, leaving the questions for later.

"Do you think we are doing the right thing?" asked Nikkin timidly. "I think he has shifty eyes."

"Oh shut up, Nikkin" Millos whispered fiercely. "Do you want to remain locked up in that stinking hole forever?"

The dwarf soon led them to a pink door, and quietly but firmly knocked on it in a strange pattern. Knock, knock, knock, pause, knock, pause, knock, knock, pause! The pink door opened, and he quickly led the men inside and locked it.

They entered a richly appointed, if somewhat garish room. Huge arm chairs - way too big for dwarfs, covered in rich brocade were arranged in a circle around a well polished table, decorated with silver knobs all around the sides. The carpet was thick and soft, but looked very gaudy with huge pink and orange flowers on a field of crimson. The fireplace behind them was large enough to roast a giant, and was topped by an ornate marble mantle. The home seemed to say, "I belong to somebody very prosperous, even though he may not have very good taste."

"You are safe here" the dwarf said. Then bowing low, "Jarrod, son of Bodor at your service."

"Why did those dwarfs hold us captive?" "Why did you free us?" "What will happen to us now?" "How will we get back to Simarrah?" The men bombarded him with questions.

Jarrod smiled. Beckoning to the uncomfortable looking chairs, he bade the men sit down. Then turning to some dwarf children who were hiding - quite unsuccessfully - and eavesdropping, he yelled at them in the Dwarfish tongue.

Minutes later, two little boys, both dressed exactly like their father, and a little girl in a brown pinafore, with her hair neatly braided in pigtails entered the room carrying trays groaning with food. They stared at the strangers, eyes round with fear and curiosity. Xerkis gave the kids a big smile, and ruffled the little boys' head. Smiling shyly, the children put down the trays and scampered off. 'Hiding and listening to every word we say, no doubt' thought Millos.

"Eat my friends", gestured Jarrod.

The men were not very hungry, and this meal too, although very rich, was not very appetising, but their host kept pressing dish after dish at them, looking very unhappy if they refused, so not wanting to hurt their rescuer's feelings, the Simarrahns ate and ate until they could eat no more.

"Now, please tell us what is going on" said Xerkis.

"Kardis is a very rich land, yes, yes" began their host. "We have no need for anything here, save one - labour! As you are aware, dwarfs mine the mountains for metal, but we are a notoriously lazy lot, yes, yes" he smiled. "We hate doing any menial labour, and it is hard for us to find labourers from other realms willing to work and live in Kardis."

Only a fool or a desperado would want to live in this awful place, thought Millos.

"So, when three strong humans arrived at our shores, naturally some of our criminal element immediately grabbed the opportunity to claim some labourers for their mines. They would have kept you imprisoned until you agreed to work for them for a period of five years. That is just about all the time any human can handle in our mines, yes, yes. I and a few of my friends are completely against this cruel practise, and we get together and try to free any captives we can."

"But isn't that dangerous for you?" queried Xerkis. "I am sure you must have made many enemies along the way."

"Yes, yes, that is true", said their host. "But we dwarfs are a practical lot. Once the captives have left our shores, we do not keep fighting over them or hold lasting grudges. Time is money, you know. And dwarfs love money too much to waste time uselessly. Yes, yes", he grinned, rubbing his thumb and fore-finger together.

"Then we thank you from the bottom of our hearts" said Xerkis. "But we do have one request. Instead of sending us back to Simarrah, could you please take us to your Elder? Jabob is his name, I believe?"

"Of course. Of course" their host agreed immediately. Too quickly, it seemed. "But Jabob will not see anybody until the Midstead meeting. Luckily for you, that will happen in two days' time. Until then, you must stay here and not wander out on your own. Yes, yes, until I can get you safely to Jabob, both your lives, and mine are in jeopardy."

"We understand" replied Xerkis. "And we thank you again for the danger you have undertaken for our sakes. And for all the others you have helped."

Jarrod smiled, and beckoning the children to remove the remains of the meal and prepare beds for the travellers, bade them good-night and left the room.

The Simarrahns, relieved and jubilant, spent the night making plans for their meeting with Jabob. And thanking over and over again their good fortune in being rescued by Jarrod.

Next morning, Jarrod joined them for breakfast, another large but unappetising meal. He hoisted himself on one of the enormous chairs, and began. "Tomorrow is the Midstead meeting. You will be able to speak with Jabob the Elder right after it is over. But we have to get you safely to the Council Hall. You can be sure those hooligans will be waiting for you all along the way, yes, yes. By now they know you have been freed by one of our group, and they are just waiting for you to either show up near your boat, or at the Council Hall."

"So, I guess we are doomed!" Nikkin was always a pessimist.

"Doomed?" the dwarf guffawed, "don't be silly! Of course I have a plan. Yes, yes, I have done this a hundred times over. It is quite simple, really. I usually go to the meeting in my chariot, while my wife and children follow in my new carriage – the newest and most expensive model available. I am sure you will love it."

The men smiled at the sight of the little dwarf preening with pride, barrel chest all puffed up!

"But here is the plan. Instead of my family, you will be hidden in the carriage. Naturally it is a closed carriage, so you will not be visible to anybody at all. Getting to the Council Hall should not be a problem. But once we get there, you must remain hidden in the carriage until I come for you. Yes, yes, that is very important! Do you understand that?"

"Of course, we will follow your orders" replied Xerkis.

"Yes, yes, I must speak with Jabob before I take you to him. Only once you have his permission will your lives be safe. On no account leave the carriage till I come for you. That is extremely important!"

"We understand, Sir" replied Xerkis, wondering why the dwarf was getting so agitated.

"Yes, yes, it is extremely important you do not show yourselves till the right moment."

"We understand" repeated Xerkis.

Next morning dawned bright and clear in Kardis, and the Simarrahns were excited at the thought of finally meeting with Jabob.

"So far all we have done is sit in one room or another wasting our time. Now at least we can see some action" smiled Millos.

"But what kind of action? I hope we are not locked up in somebody else's room this time" Nikkin was always very cautious.

Later that evening, after another gigantic but unappetising meal, Jarrod, dressed to the nines, his beard freshly braided with little gold beads hanging from the ends, ushered the men quietly to the back door. Opening the door they saw a well fenced-in yard, with a huge gate opening straight onto the street. A beautiful maroon and gold carriage led by two strange looking horses was waiting for them. The horses were as short and squat as their dwarf owner, and had long manes that reached almost to the ground. Millos wondered how the horses managed to gallop without tripping over all that hair! The carriage had maroon satin curtains which shielded the occupants from curious stares. The seats were upholstered in soft maroon velvet, all very plush and comfortable. On the carriage door, the letters 'J' and 'B' intertwined in gold proudly announced the vain owner's name.

"Ahhh", murmured Nikkin, "now that is what I call comfort!"

Jarrod was very pleased by the Simarrahn's reaction to his luxury carriage. "Yes, yes, it is comfortable" he said. "I am the first dwarf in all of Kardis to own this model. Even Jabob does not have such a magnificent carriage." Jarrod's thick chest puffed up even more, if that was even possible.

The ride down the streets of Kardis was nerve racking for the Simarrahns in a way, yet they were very excited. Every time the carriage came to a halt, the men held their breath wondering if this was where they would be pulled out and taken back to their prison. But thankfully, they seemed to reach their destination without incident. The liveried carriage driver jockeyed the horses into position, and then with a shout, jumped down and tied the carriage to a parking post.

Immediately Jarrod who must have arrived earlier and was waiting for them, pounced in the carriage.

"As I told you, please do not leave the carriage until I personally come for you, yes?" he reminded them once again.

The men all nodded with a bemused smile. Surely he did not think they were utter simpletons, unable to understand or remember his instructions?

There seemed to be a lot of shouting coming from the distance. "Noisy bunch, these Kardians" mentioned Millos. "I bet poor Jabob has a hard time during Council meetings."

Hour after hour passed, and Xerkis grew increasingly nervous. What if Jabob refused to see them? What if their captors decided to check the waiting carriages?

Finally to their relief, Jarrod opened the carriage door. "Come, come. Quickly! Just follow me. Yes, yes, we must go straight to Jabob. Ignore anybody who tries to speak to you on the way."

The Simarrahns had to almost run to keep up with the dwarf – he seemed to be trotting post haste!

Jarrod herded the men towards a public square, packed with dwarfs! Tall dwarfs, short dwarfs, fat ones, skinny ones - although very few of those, as most dwarfs tend to be rather portly, prosperous dwarfs, raggedy ones, were all jam packed together. Jarrod ushered them firmly and quickly through the inquisitive throng. Millos angrily pushed away quite a few dwarfs who appeared fascinated at the sight of the men. They tried to squeeze his arms, smack his back, touch his hair, and even poke at his stomach! Although the dwarfs seemed extremely interested in the Simarrahns, much to the men's relief, they were not the least bit threatening.

Jarrod climbed onto a large square platform, Simarrahns in tow, and then with a powerful push, shoved them into a pen-like enclosure.

"Is this where we get an audience with Jabob?" asked Xerkis of another dwarf who suddenly appeared from behind the pen and locked it firmly.

"Why are you locking us in?" Millos was getting angrier by the minute. "Jarrod, Jarrod, what is going on?"

But Jarrod had moved away from the pen and was standing near the edge of the platform talking earnestly to some richly dressed dwarfs.

In an instant all sorts of dwarfs surrounded the pen and stared at the men, poking and prodding them, scrutinising them much like Simarrahn farmers scrutinised animals on market day.

"Oh Heavens!" exclaimed Nikkin, "I think we are in an auction pen!"

### YAHNNI AND POPPADOM

Yahnni rowed and rowed and rowed, weary in body and spirit - his mind numb from lack of food and sleep. He almost went past it – the swirl! The tiny, bubbling, frothy white swirl in the otherwise calm water... This was the place! He knew he had to dive in here to cross through the Magical Dimension and get to the ruins of Donger. Yahnni was terrified – he could not swim! Holding his amulet, and trusting himself to Ahur, he jumped from his little boat! Poppadom followed right behind, and firmly holding Yahnni's hand in hers, chanted a spell of protection. Yahnni felt the vortex gently pulling him in deeper and deeper. Letting go of his fear, he allowed Poppadom to lead the way.

Just when Yahnni felt he could not hold his breath any longer, a weird jolt forced him through an invisible barrier. His entire body felt very alien - and soon he could barely feel it at all!

"We have crossed over into the Magical Dimension" smiled Poppadom, quite pleased with herself. "You will now be able to breathe naturally even under the water."

They soon found themselves outside an immense underwater world. A once magnificent bronze gate etched with mysterious writing stood at the entrance to the ruins of the ancient stronghold of Donger. The carved lettering was barely visible, as over time moss and lichen had claimed most of the gate's surface. The gate creaked open slowly on rusty hinges as if it had been waiting for Yahnni and Poppadom to show up. They entered a deserted courtyard overgrown with seaweed and rushes. Crusty barnacles and empty shells clung to the pillars and walls of the ruins of what once had been a beautiful palace.

"Let's look for a way in" Yahnni said.

Rounding the corner, they came upon an ornate door made of heavy wood and studded with silver. Very hesitantly Yahnni pushed opened the door and entered, and immediately an oppressive darkness enveloped the pair. Their eyes saw nothing, but their hearts grew icy with nameless dread! Fear lived in this dank and shadowy place. Fear grew on the damp, dark walls. Fear ruled every corner of this ancient ruin!

In spite of the overpowering darkness, Yahnni was the first to see them! They came upon the pair from all sides – zombie warriors dressed in armour from different ages and strange realms, advanced fast and furious, closing in on the pair. They came by the hundreds, their armour creaking with the rust of centuries, crazed grins on their fleshless skulls, bent skeleton fingers wrapped around wickedly deadly swords and lances, metal boots echoing in perfect precision on the stone floor. The stale air was rent by a million shrieks like the screams of the damned! Closer and closer marched the vicious army, hemming them in from all sides.

"My magic is not working against these creatures, Yahnni" sobbed a terrified Poppadom, holding on to the acolyte's hand for dear life.

Yahnni willed himself to walk past the ghostly soldiers. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed in his life.

"Whither goeth thou?" shrieked a zombie warrior very close to his ear. Yahnni jumped in fear.

"I have come for the feather of the mighty Golden Phoenix that we may defeat Afritha the Evil" he replied.

On hearing his words, the zombie warriors laughed and shrieked even louder – hollow laughter and demoniacal shrieks that echoed wildly through the vast chamber.

"Why dost thou think thou wilt taste success when all of us hath failed?" their leader queried.

"I don't know, but I must get the feather or else all the worlds will be lost to the Powers of Darkness" replied Yahnni.

Then strong invisible hands held Yahnni and Poppadom fast! Try as they would, they could not move! "Please let us go, please help us."

"Why art thou better than us? We mighty warriors, strong of heart and purpose could not succeed. What noble deeds hast thou performed that we may allow thee in to the mighty Phoenix? Knoweth thou not that only the pure of heart may look upon the Golden Phoenix?"

"I do not want the feather for my own gain - just to help destroy Ahrimn and Afritha." Yahnni could think of nothing else to say. He really had no idea why Firdoz had chosen him for this task. He could think of no great act of bravery or valour, or any big sacrifice on his part.

"Yahnni has risked his life to make this voyage and try to save his people from the malevolent Ahrimn" said Poppadom. "Unlike all of you, he is not looking to be a hero. He is doing this as a service to his God, and because he is a wonderfully genuine and noble hearted young man!" Yahnni was taken aback at the vehemence in young Poppadom's voice.

Then a strange faraway voice spoke from the shadows, "Yahnni's heart is pure and selfless. He gave me all his food although he was embarking on a long journey"; and the shadows took the form of the mangy mutt near the boat.

"Yahnni's heart is kind and loving. He saved my life by throwing me back into the sea although he was extremely hungry and could have made a meal out of me" - this from the plump little fish who all the while darted terrified glances at Poppadom as he spoke.

(Poppadom now fully expected the cobbler's son to show up and sing her praises! 'That ungrateful kid' she thought when he did not materialize, 'After all, I sent him safely home to his family!')

With a long-drawn shriek of disappointment, the ghostly army vanished into the darkness, and Yahnni and Poppadom found themselves standing on a narrow rocky ledge right in the middle of complete nothingness. The ledge seemed to lead to an ornate portal quite a distance away. Yahnni looked all around, but apart from the doorway, there was nothing but emptiness as far as eye could see. A fine smoky vapour hung low over the narrow ledge, making their path even more treacherous. One wrong step, and Yahhni and Poppadom would vanish forever into the void below.

Yahnni tried to smile reassuringly at Poppadom as he helped her onto the slim ledge.

"Well, we have made it this far. Next stop - the Phoenix!"

### ISFANDAR

Back on the shores of Isfandar, Harita was still surprisingly alive. Although wounded very badly by the trolls, he had somehow survived his terrible injuries. ("Takes more than a few trolls to kill me off", he boasted once he was safe and sound.) All through the night he drifted in and out of consciousness, his body dry and hot and burning with fever one minute, then chill and shivery the next. He had no idea where he was or where Pelle and Zaeve were. All he could do was try to survive the unending night.

During one of his conscious periods, Harita noticed two pale, almost translucent figures with long white hair, sitting one on each side of him. They seemed to be murmuring softly, and gently rubbing some balm into his wounds. Assuming them to be the Angels of Death, Harita prayed for his soul, and lost consciousness once again.

The next time his eyes opened, it was morning, and to his utter astonishment, he felt quite strong and healed. His wounds seemed to have miraculously disappeared, and his body felt stronger than ever. Slowly flexing his arms and legs, he made sure everything was working normally, but actually he felt even better than usual! Surprised, but pleasantly so, he got up and tried to take in his surroundings.

Looking around, Harita remembered last night's scuffle with the trolls, and wondered what had become of Zaeve and Pelle. He hoped with all his heart they were alive and well. The ground in front of him seemed to tell the story. He saw the boot prints of the Simarrahns - very different and distinct from the hairy paws of the trolls - walking down the twisted path, and was relieved that his friends were at least hopefully still alive. Slowly, Harita followed the path. To his astonishment, his eyes were keener, his hearing more acute, his body more powerful, his thinking more clear! He walked effortlessly all morning, and soon arrived at the site of the mud-slide leading to the deep pit. Cautiously Harita approached the pit, and came upon track-marks made by something large being dragged deep into the woods. Making sure he was not observed, Harita followed the drag marks right up to a clearing with a huge rough hewn cave-like structure in a corner. Harita hid behind a thick hedge of bushes hoping to find some sign of his friends.

He saw nothing and heard nothing, but his nose was assailed by the dreadful smell of burning flesh! He had never before smelled anything so vile in his entire life! Harita threw up violently all over the bush. His imagination ran riot. Oh Ahur! Had they burnt Zaeve and Pelle? Sacrificed them in some barbaric ritual? Horrified, he wondered what he should do next.

Trying to think up a plan, Harita kept a watchful eye on the dwelling. He needed to know who lived there and why they had taken his companions. Were they friend or foe? Was this the cave of the trolls? Harita had a million questions, but no answers.

After a couple of hours of patient observation had gone by, three weird looking children emerged from the dwelling and ran towards the spit on which the remnants of the foul smelling feast were still slowly roasting.

"I'm still hungry! I want more! I want more!" The little girl was all set to throw an enormous tantrum. "Give me more! I cannot reach so high!"

One of the little boys reached up, and averting his eyes from the fire, grabbed a huge chunk off the spit. The children eagerly divided the meat, chewing and spitting out the bones at their feet.

All through this, Harita noticed something that he would never have noticed had his eyesight not been enhanced. He realised that the creatures flinched every time they came close to the spit and avoided looking directly into the fire. The fire really bothered their eyes.

'Hmm', thought Harita, 'if these creatures have my brother and Zaeve captive, I could try fire to rescue them. The first thing I must do is check this cave. There is no other hiding place here.'

Harita collected a few heavy branches from the bushes around him, and waited until the hot Isfandar sun was at its zenith; he then slowly made his way towards the roasting pit. The child-like creatures had not ventured out of the cave in the bright light, which gave Harita further hope. Placing the branches into the smoldering embers, he lit several torches, and holding them gingerly in front of him, made his way carefully towards the dwelling.

"Human, human, look here! Up here!" he heard the guttural tones of the trolls. Terrified of the trolls after his almost fatal experience with them, Harita almost dropped the torches and ran.

"Help us! Please!" the trolls entreated in scared whispers, and with his heart sinking deep into the pit of his belly, Harita forced himself to look up. There were the horrible creatures neatly trussed up in a huge filthy net, pinned to the wall! Well, at least he was safe from them. And then Harita grew even more scared... What kind of creature was powerful enough to subdue these vicous trolls?

"Human, untie us. Your friends are in the house. We will help you free them."

"And what then?" Harita asked. "Will you kill us all?"

"No, no! We are on the same side. We will take you to Gatimi. You have my word!" the leader of the trolls replied.

Relieved to have the trolls help him, although still very wary, Harita pulled out a tiny knife and cut the trolls loose. They tumbled one on top of the other with a series of loud thuds! "Shh..", "shh..", "shh.." they kept yelling at one another. Harita was terrified the noise would bring out the creatures, but thankfully nobody appeared.

"Here is the plan", Harita whispered softly. "Your captors cannot look directly at fire. So we keep these torches with us at all times, and wave it in their faces should they approach us."

"Plan? We are trolls. Fearsome and battle-scarred! We do not need plans. We shall just charge and attack the Drools!" boasted one of the more foolish trolls.

"Really? And how has that worked for you so far?" asked Harita.

"Shut up Shrogh!" said their leader. "We follow the human's plan."

Handing around the torches, Harita and his unlikely allies made their way into the dwelling. It was the strangest home Harita had ever seen. The room was clean, airy, and lovingly decorated with finely carved wooden beds and tables, pretty curtains, and earthen jars full of wildflowers. And yet, in the midst of this gentle domesticity, a jumble of vicous knives, axes, iron claws, swords, and daggers with wickedly twisted blades ran amuck.

'This is a really strange creature that lives here', Harita thought. 'He loves his home and family, and yet has a murderous, sadistic streak!'

Krogh, the leader of the trolls silently pointed to the large stone vat where the humans were nicely marinating in the foul gristleberry juice. The group almost reached the vat, when an army of Drool children appeared from all sides! They swarmed all over the trolls and Harita who desperately tried to keep them at bay with the burning torches.

One Drool child scooped up some of the gristleberry juice and poured it over a troll's torch, and immediately, the rest of the little monsters clambered all over the hapless troll and tore him to pieces right in front of his horrified companions!

"Their eyes! Burn their eyes!" yelled Harita, shocked at how bloodthirsty he felt! The little group fought valiantly, but the Drools just kept coming and coming. Then Krogh, the troll leader had a brilliant idea! Signalling the others, he set fire to the curtains and the neat wooden furniture! The curtains were ablaze in an instant, and soon the flames spread everywhere! Greedy tongues of fire torched the beds! Chairs burst into flames! The fire spread quickly to the huge tables in the centre of the room. Panicking, the Drools ran into the dim recesses of the cave. Coughing and choking, Harita and the trolls helped the grateful Simarrahns out of the pickling vat.

"Seal the door of the cave, quick!" commanded Zaeve as the group made their way into the brilliant sunshine. The Simarrahns shut the heavy iron door, and jammed the great huge bar that locked it shut, into place.

"And now to Gatimi" said Krogh, and the band, grateful to have survived their deadly ordeal, made their way down the path.

###  RHINLANDIA

In Rhinlandia, the Simarrahns spent a disturbed night, wondering whether they could count on help from the Rhinaries. Early next morning when the first fingers of dawn spread through the sky, a Rhinary soldier brought a (thankfully) simple meal for the Simarrahns. He then took the men out into the field where Markhone's soldiers were training.

Sheronas, looking like a magnificent Valkyrie in her well-polished bronze armour, stepped away from her army and approached Roghaar.

"I trust you slept well? No broken bones from yesterday?" she teased.

"Only a broken heart" Roghaar smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Then, on a serious note, "My warriors and I will accompany you to Haddeza, where we will make short work of Afritha's army, Gorgoths and all!" said Sheronas, much to the relief of the Simarrahns. "My men are ready, and we will soon be joined by my cousin Shronos and my uncle Keros, both powerful lords in neighbouring cities, who will bring their armies as well.

But now my Simarrahn guardsmen, you have much to learn about war" she smiled mischievously. "Train with us until the other fighters join us."

The three armies from Rhinlandia soon met up on the shores of the Sea of Gramania. The warriors were highly excited about the adventure ahead. There was much back-slapping and joking as they greeted old friends. And being Rhinaries, they were soon showing off their skills and weapons in mock battle. Some of them got so carried away, there was a real danger of somebody getting killed even before they set sail for Haddeza!

The shores of Rhinlandia echoed their eager war cries....

"To Haddeza! Victory or Death!"

### LARA KON

"Oh Ahur! This is truly a nightmare!" said Brinn nervously. "What should we do about our two stowaways? And one of them the son of the Khan Khan! We could end up at war with Lara Kon as well."

"No, no, that will never happen. Please do not worry", said Gham-Zhi. "No citizen of Lara Kon ever leaves the kingdom. It is not allowed. We are the first to do so." He seemed almost excited and proud of that fact.

"Please help us kind sirs", beseeched Lhing. "Both Gham-Zhi and I are very powerful Wind Warriors. We will prove very useful to you in Haddeza."

The Simarrahns looked at each other thoughtfully. This was an unexpected development.

"What can two young Wind Warriors do against Afritha's mighty army?" Brinn was doubtful.

"Let us show you", and with that the two young people separated, bowed, and then the men from Simarrah experienced an experience they had not believed possible!

As the two warriors started twirling and whirling at high speed, the three men felt a bitter, angry wind blow fiercely all through the boat. It whipped their chest and arms and face, and sliced through their clothes. Terrible moans and sighs whispered merciless torture in their ears. Invisible fingers brushed their faces with the icy touch of death. The Simarrahns' hearts trembled with mortal dread and they were completely powerless against the almost invisible pair. Finally, the whirling stopped, and the two young people stood calmly next to Kyroz, heads bowed.

Tarwyn stood agape, mouth hanging open, eyes popping right out of his head! Lhing-Kin giggled.

"We could have killed you a million times within those few minutes" said Gham-Zhi quietly and without exaggeration. "Afritha's demons will never see their death approach them."

The Simarrahns looked at each other with astonishment mingled with hope.

"To Haddeza!" commanded Kyroz, and laughing and hugging one another, the men turned their boat towards Afritha's kingdom.

"This old bucket will never make it to Haddeza on time" remarked Brinn. "We were hoping to get a swift ship from the Khan, remember?"

Kyroz and his friends felt truly frustrated! To be so near their goal, and yet so far.....

"Sir, I think we can help with that as well", Gham-Zhi murmured.

"This lad is amazing, isn't he?" guffawed Tarwyn. "Well my boy, what can you show us now?"

Nodding to Lhing-Kin, Gham-Zhi sat down calmly in a corner. Young Lhing sat across from him, and forming a circle with their hands, they started chanting in low, even tones. The Simarrahns looked at one another in astonishment. How was this going to make their boat go faster? Suddenly they felt a bit deflated.... and foolish! Here they were, three grown men, counting on two young kids to get them to Haddeza!

Behind them the chanting grew intense, more frenzied... And quicker! And quicker still!

Kyroz cast his crew a puzzled look. "Is our boat lifting out from the water?" He ran to the edge of the boat. "Oh Lord!" he shouted with exhilaration. "We are flying!"

The other two ran to his side. Sure enough the boat was about seven inches above the water, gliding by at immense speed, her sails propelled by a crazy furious wind!

The three Simarrahns jumped and down with joy - just like little children!

"Their Wind Goddess again!" exclaimed Brinn. "I really wish she was coming to Haddeza to fight Afritha!"

"Thank Ahur, she seems to be on our side for now at least" said a very bewildered Tarwyn.

The two lovers sat quietly in their corner, hands intertwined, concentrating with heart and soul to get the adventurers to Haddeza on time!

Gliding over the high seas, the little boat flew past the Pirate Schooner. The Pirate Captain and his men flocked to the deck and looked on astounded, their eyes bulging in wonder at the unusual sight.

"Poor boat, hunh?" shouted Kyroz with a huge grin. "I bet you would love to have our 'poor boat' now!"

The Pirate Captain shook his fist angrily at them, then raised his bottle to his lips and took a large swig.

###  SAR-EL-MASH

That evening, when the sun had set in Sar-El-Mash, and the beautiful Pavillion of the Setting Sun sparkled with a profusion of crystal lights, King Shams brought a radiant, smiling Nada out onto the royal balcony. Dressed in a simple flaming orange silk dress, jewels shimmering in her flowing hair, she looked every inch the royal Princess as she addressed the people gathered there.

"My loyal citizens, I am so happy to be back in the palace with my dear brother Shams. Please let me assure you that I do not desire the throne of Sar-El-Mash for myself, nor for my son Ravonn. Shams is your true King, and I willingly pledge him my allegiance and ask that you all do the same.

Bagha is an evil man who imprisoned me and tortured me to feed his own lust for power. He is a traitor to our beautiful land and to our rightful King. Let him be judged by the laws of Sar-El-Mash, and punished if found guilty. Long live King Shams!" And blowing a kiss to the cheering crowd, Nada retreated to her private chambers.

The crowd roared its approval, and loudly demanded Bagha be brought to trial.

As per Mashi custom, the elected Elders of the Packs gathered in the arena, each taking his or her place on the carved rock seats. Royal guards brought Bagha, his brother, and a few of their closest associates in chains, and stood watch over them. Finally King Shams arrived in his official velvet robe and crown and sceptre, and took his place on the magnificent rock throne in the centre.

The trial was soon over, and a verdict of 'guilty' was pronounced on the openly surly and rebellious Bagha who spewed hate all through the procedure.

Punishment was swift and deadly. At dawn the next morning, Bagha the tiger and his beastly cohorts were brought by the royal guards - all in their animal avatars now, to the arena. The most ferocious of Shams' killer beasts advanced upon the traitors from all sides, and in a melee of claws and fangs, the guilty ones were quickly torn to shreds. The Mashi executioners, mouths dripping with rebel blood, signalled with a loud roar that justice had been served.

Akelis, Yurich and Maxil promptly threw up, sick at the bloody sight, never imagining such cruel justice!

"Raw brutality is sometimes the only way to control ferocious beasts" one of the Mashi told Akelis later that night.

That night, after a magnificent feast, King Shams addressed his people. He explained the prophecy and told them about Afritha and Prince Valias, and the dangers that lay ahead for all the worlds should Afritha become victorious. "So my loyal subjects, I ask you - should we join Simarrah and the other realms against Afritha? Or should we bury our heads in the sands of Sar-El-Mash and let others bear the burden of war?"

Much to the Simarrahns' relief, the Mashee voted unanimously, loud and clear, their desire to join the battle against Afritha and Ahrimn.

"There you are!" said King Shams to Akelis; "there is your answer. We will sail to Haddeza, to Victory or to our Death!"

### KARDIS

Trapped in the auction pen in Kardis, Xerkis and his companions were outraged when the dwarf who had locked the pen motioned for silence, and the bidding began! They called out to Jarrod who completely ignored their cries.

The bids came in fast and furious, going higher and higher, until only two determined dwarfs remained in the fray. One was a very large tough old dwarf, with rough hands, and rough manners; the other, an elegant, well groomed younger dwarf, with long bright red hair and a long bright red beard.

"One thousand Kirrits, one thousand" yelled the auctioneer. "Who bids more? One thousand, one hundred?"

The rough guy raised his hand.

"One thousand, one hundred Kirrits. Anyone for one thousand, two hundred?" Red beard raised his well manicured finger a fraction of an inch.

"One thousand three hundred" his rival shouted out. The auctioneer looked mighty pleased.

"Who bids more? Anybody? One thousand three hundred Kirrits! Going once, going twice...."

"One thousand five hundred" politely bid Mr. Red Head.

The auctioneer looked towards the older dwarf, who declined with an ugly snarl.

"One thousand five hundred Kirrits for these fine slaves" the auctioneer banged his gavel, and the bidding was over.

"Thank Ahur, it was not the other one" sighed Nikkin.

"Is that all you have to say? 'Thank Ahur we are slaves to a fine red haired dwarf'! You don't mind being a slave, you fool?" Millos, angry and frustrated at their situation, took his rage out on poor Nikkin.

Red, Jarrod, and the auctioneer got into a huddle, money exchanged hands, and with an oily smile and a flourish, and a thick wad of cash in his hand, Jarrod doffed his hat at the Simarrahns, and was gone!

Red beard came up to Simarrahns. "I am Ronker, son of Walsik, and I am your new owner."

"Sir, we are not slaves, we are free men of Simarrah who were tricked by that wretch Jarrod."

"That is what they all say" the auctioneer shook his head. "On Kardis, all captives are slaves" he told them firmly. "You should have checked our laws before coming here."

Ronker escorted the men to his carriage. Although very well appointed, it was not half as cushy as Jarrod's. "I bet the old crook goes and buys some other fancy stuff with the money he got for us" said Nikkin bitterly. "How foolish we were to trust him! I told you his eyes looked shifty, but nobody believed me."

"Oh shut up!" from Millos.

"You two, this is not the time for us to fight among ourselves" Xerkis tried to calm them down. "Let us try and come up with a plan."

"Plan? What plan? Dwarfs are the greediest, most unscrupulous cheats ever! Who can you trust in Kardis to help us?" asked Millos.

"Millos, why are you so pessimistic?" asked Xerkis. "Ahur willing, we will find a way out."

The carriage came to a halt, and Ronker opened the door, and politely beckoned them alight. They entered through the back door of a beautiful mansion. Ronker led them to a wing off the kitchen.

"Please freshen up" he said politely; "I will join you in half an hour."

The men found themselves in a fairly pleasant room, comfortably furnished. A large wooden table stood in the centre, with high backed chairs all around. Along the walls were worn but cozy sofas and arm chairs and small side tables. The room had two doors - one door led to a dormitory with rows of beds piled with thick mattresses, and blankets that looked snug and inviting. The other door led to a big, clean bathroom, where a huge iron tub stood in a corner. Brown towels were neatly folded and stacked on racks, plain bars of soap dangled from ropes hanging on nails, and large pitchers filled with water lined the walls.

"Well, I still say I am glad the other dwarf did not buy us" repeated Nikkin quite annoyingly. "Can you imagine what kind of hovel he would have taken us to?"

"Oh shut up!" the other two shouted in unison!

The men washed up as best as they could and went to the sitting room to await their 'master'.

### THE PHOENIX

Balancing delicately on the rocky ledge, Yahnni felt quite dizzy as he looked down into the void below. The path was narrow and treacherous, and little bits of it kept crumbling at the edges, but it was all that lay between them and the stark emptiness beneath.

"Well, I guess all we can do is walk on, and hope that the doorway ahead will lead us to the Phoenix" said Yahnni. "Careful, though."

Gingerly and cautiously, one small step at a time, Yahnni and Poppadom walked on and on and on for what felt like hours, but no matter how long the pair kept walking, the distance never seemed to get shorter. New twists and turns appeared out of nowhere, but the portal remained always just out of reach. The path seemed endless.... and dangerous, as it kept crumbling around their feet.

As if that was not bad enough, they were soon surrounded by loud hair-raising scratching sounds, as though invisible prisoners were trying to scratch their way out of their invisible prison. Creepy phantom voices echoed all around them, sighing and moaning. "Free me, please..." implored one ghostly speaker. "Help me! Help! Please" from another. "I have been trapped for a thousand years. Rescue me, I beg you" whispered a voice directly in Yahnni's ear. "You are going to join us soon, dearie" an invisible old woman cackled, "There is no end to this path."

Yahnni and Poppadom tried to shut their ears to the heart-wrenching cries, but the scratching and pleading only got louder and louder.

"Help me", "Free me", "Join us", "Hahaha", "Get away" - the voices grew louder and louder, and came closer and closer, driving the pair crazed with fear. Terrified, frustrated, and weary, Poppadom was ready to give up. "Let us go back to the entrance chamber; perhaps there is yet another way to the Phoenix", she said. But when Yahnni turned around, the two were in for another nasty shock. The road behind them had completely vanished! There was nowhere for them to go but ahead! The invisible old hag cackled louder than ever!

"I think we shall be trapped here for all eternity, walking on and on and on until we join those lost captive souls", Poppadom gloomily prophesised. "I would rather just jump down into the nothing below right now and end it all".

Barely had the words come out of her mouth, when much to the young witch's astonishment, Ma Trumble suddenly appeared in front of her, hovering just a few feet from her face, wearing a large flowery apron with a pair of shimmery purple wings hastily pinned in the back with huge safety pins, a long ladle in her hand. Noticing Poppadom's look of shocked surprise, the witchmaster glanced at her ladle – "Oh! So that's why my wand would not work!" she muttered. "Why all the gloom and doom Miss Poppadom?" she asked her pupil with a frown. "Do you know I was in the middle of serving dinner, when I felt your crazy panic? I had to freeze your entire family and make haste to get to you! And you know how cranky your father gets if he does not get his dinner on time!" Poppadom could only continue to stare in shock at her teacher, her eyes rounder than ever. "What is the matter with you, girl? Haven't you seen wings before? How else could I come to you so quickly? Ride a broomstick? You should know better than anybody what a crock that legend is!" Checking to make sure her purple wings were securely fastened, she continued, "Come on you silly girl, use your brains. You are a witch, remember? Concentrate on the Phoenix... See him in your mind's eye. Use the spell of Visualisation! There he lies in deep slumber, the feather fluttering over his beating heart. Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate..." and with a twist of her ladle, Ma Trumble was gone!

"Don't go! Don't leave us here" shrieked Poppadom.

"Who in Ahur's name are you talking to?" enquired Yahnni looking very concerned. He had not seen anything, and wondered if the strain was making Poppadom lose her mind.

Poppadom went very still, as if in a trance. "Visualise. Concentrate, concentrate..." Ma Trumble's voice echoed over and over again in her head. Then, chanting the spell of Visualisation, slowly Poppadom saw it all in her mind's eye with great clarity - the immense hall with the Golden Phoenix sleeping... as if she was standing right next to him. She saw herself enter the chamber, and approach the mighty bird... She held the image firmly in her mind, and zapped it into reality.

To Yahnni's amazement, the distance between them and the portal grew shorter and shorter, then completely disappeared, and they were standing right outside the doorway. Much relieved, the pair quickly entered the room. There in a wondrous marble hall surrounded by intricately carved columns, the magnificent Golden Phoenix lay in death-like slumber on a raised marble dais.

In the early eons of the Making, the Golden Phoenix flew free and wild, his tail blazing golden fire across the skies. He was one of the immortals and very powerful!

Jaduvan the sorcerer, already enthralled by Afritha's amazing beauty, was looking for the right ingredients to create an immortality spell for the love of his life. If only he could steal some of the Phoenix's life essence....

Jaduvan consulted all his magical tomes and grimoires. He spent decades with the dusty, musty books, hoping to find some way to imprison, and then transfer the life spark of the immortal bird to Afritha.

After many years of hmmms and ahhhs, he got it! Collecting the venom of a hundred of the most deadly Akashi vipers, he created a magical arrow - one lethal enough to bring down the mighty Phoenix.

"Are you sure this will make me immortal?" asked Afritha eagerly, eyes shining, lips parted with excitement. "Tell me once again exactly what you are going to do."

"Well my dear, as you know, the Phoenix holds the essence of immortality within its very soul. The venom of my Akashi vipers will paralyse the bird, making him completely helpless, and the spell of Transference \- and I shall have you know that I am the only sorcerer powerful enough to cast that spell - will transfer his life essence to you. The Phoenix will slumber as if in a trance, and his immortality will belong to you."

"And what if the Phoenix wakens?" Afritha wanted to cover all bases.

"And who will dare wake the Phoenix? Anyone who tries that will be burnt to cinders instantly. Another one of my little ideas....." Jaduvan preened like the proudest peacock.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's do it!"

"Not yet, my dear lady" replied Jaduvan, "not yet. By my calculations, the most auspicious time will be the night of the spring tide. The vibrations that night affect the Phoenix mightily, and he will be at his most vulnerable."

"What a very clever man you are!" flattered the witch, already planning ways to be rid of the silly old fool once she had made use of his powers.

Soon the night of the spring tide arrived. The Phoenix, lulled by the gentle vibrations in the air, floated peacefully in the calm velvety sky.

Jaduvan atop his Crystal Pyramid, trained the sights of his special bow - made from the tendons of Ahrimn's demons, and with a mighty incantation shot the magicked arrow directly into the heart of the soaring bird.

The arrow met its mark, the venom took its toll, and the injured bird whirled around and around in the sky, before landing gracefully at Jaduvan's feet.

Urging Lord Dreath to carry the wounded bird to a special cone right in the very centre of the Pyramid where magic was most potent, Jaduvan began the spell of Transference.

Wierd flashes of coloured light bounced off the sides of the cone. The unconcious Phoenix's heartbeat echoed through the chamber, thumping louder and louder and louder. With the unconscious Phoenix and Afritha exactly six spans apart - Jaduvan calculated and measured the distance very thoroughly - Jaduvan began chanting a very powerful chant until a fiery current appeared to connect the two. However, there seemed to be some disturbance in the current – it seemed jagged, it did not flow smoothly. Jaduvan was slightly perturbed. Something did not seem completely right to him. He mentally went through the entire spell. 'Venom, check! Arrow in the heart, check! Central cone with high magical ability, check! Spell of transference - exactly as it should be...' so what could be wrong?

A tremendous flash of ethereal golden light blinded Jaduvan, and Ahur's thundering voice answered his question. "You dared wound my Phoenix, you wretched creature? Did you not realise that I would never let that go unpunished?"

"Now heed my words and my judgement", he continued. "Your arrow left a little drop of blood at the tip of a feather as it pierced my precious bird's heart. This blood is so pure, your magic has no power over it. This feather, with this one perfect drop of blood will be the dagger that will kill once and forever your beloved witch, should it penetrate the she-devil's heart.

And as for you Jaduvan, you will be imprisoned with chains of Jarasim in the Cavern of Dark Deceptions deep in the bowels of the worlds. Never again will you see daylight, never again will you see the enchantress you have loved so foolishly."

And with that, the golden light dispersed as if it had never been there.

"Oh great Ahriman! Oh father! Help me! Help me!" Afritha wailed.

And then the room was filled with darkness so intense, it was menacing! And Ahriman's creepy voice called out, "I am here dear daughter. And while I cannot completely revoke the great Ahur's curse, I can make a few little changes. The dagger will have no power save on the Night of the Moons, and only when the moons of Haddeza are perfectly aligned. As for the Phoenix, I shall banish him deep into the depths of the sea, safe within the Great Hall in the ruins of Donger. There he will be imprisoned by my most powerful spell – so strong, even a witch with your power cannot break it! Should anybody attempt to get this dagger, he will meet a fiery death - burnt to cinders the instant he tries to pluck the feather, and he will join the defeated ranks in keeping other would-be heroes away."

"And as for you Jaduvan, as a reward for trying to help my daughter, the Jarasim chains that bind you will lose their power for the six vital minutes on the Night of the Moons. It will be up to you to make your escape then."

Turning to Afritha he continued, "My dear daughter, you have served me well. You have not let your mother's bitter hatred destroy your love for me. While I will not give you the gift of immortality, I will give you a chance to earn it. Even Ahur is not aware that I have knowledge of this powerful Prophecy of the Making... On the Night of the Moons, during the six fateful minutes when the six moons of Haddeza are perfectly aligned, should any mortal eat the beating heart of a Prince of Faerie, he or she will join the ranks of the immortals and conquer eternity!

Now I have fulfilled my obligation as your father. Worship me always, for therein lays your power, but call on me for favours no more!"

The darkness vanished, and a wild wind raged through Jaduvan's magic chamber, swirling and smashing everything in its path.

Hanging on for dear life, Jaduvan crawled to where Afritha was trying to keep her balance. Gazing hungrily at her lovely face, he smiled. "I shall happily face imprisonment in the cavern, knowing I have helped give you the gift that no other could. I shall spend every instant finding my way back to the sun and to you my lady." For a wicked evil sorcerer he sure was a total sap!

Jaduvan smiled at Afritha even as an angry blast of wind flung the old sorcerer off the Pyramid, and the bowels of the world opened up and hungrily sucked him in!

'Actually things have worked out better than I expected', thought Afritha. 'I am almost invincible, the Phoenix is safely imprisoned under the sea, and best of all, this old idiot wizard will be stuck in an underground cave for all eternity.... Now all I need is to get my hands on a Faerie Prince, and I am ready to face my destiny on the Night of the Moons. I am sure Lord Dreath will be able to manage that quite easily....'

### ISFANDAR

Safe from the gruesome Drools of Isfandar, the Simarrahns and the trolls made their way to Gatimi with light hearts and renewed hope. They were all happy to see Haritha safe! Happy not to be part of a Drool dinner! Happy to finally meet with Gatimi! The woods seemed bright and light and beautiful to them!

The trolls quietly mourned the loss of their two friends. Bending low before Harita they offered heartfelt apology for almost killing him, and then thanked him for rescuing them. Pelle was very proud of his little brother's heroism, and the two brothers walked side by side the entire time.

Harita told the group about the strange beings who had healed him. "Fairy healers", said Krogh. "They can heal everything except Death!"

Harita and the trolls had a good laugh at Zaeve's and Pelle's pickled green skin. "If only Michlingli was here to paint a portrait of you both right now!" he chuckled.

Pelle gave his little brother a good clip upside the head. "You are very mouthy for a young man who almost died" he said.

"I am also the young man who saved your green pickled hide" Harita replied with a cheeky grin.

The group walked on and on and on through the now dark forest. The pale silver crescent shimmered luminescent in the dusky night sky. Leading the group towards a large clearing in the dark, dense woods, Krogh the troll bowed low, and loudly announced their arrival in the emptiness! Although the clearing had looked completely bare, in an instant it was filled with the most amazing creatures! Fairies so pale skinned they were almost transparent, shimmered out of thin air. Short, round, ugly goblins emerged from behind the trunks of huge gnarled trees. Pretty little wood sprites flew in and out from between the wild flowers that grew everywhere. Gnomes, very serious in their brown tunics sat cross legged on the forest floor. Mischievous elves dressed in green flitted here and there, giggling as they annoyed the other creatures.

The trees around the clearing suddenly lit up with thousands of shimmering lights sparkling from their branches, while glow-worms twinkled all around, like a shower of glittery golden diamonds in the dark night. The Simarrahns looked on in disbelief and amazement as Fairyland - magical and wondrous, appeared before their astonished eyes! The trolls took their place all around the clearing, guarding it spears in hand.

Slowly, very slowly, a pale mist descended from the gleaming silvery crescent moon up in the sky, way above the woods, taking the form of an exquisitely beautiful fairy as it slowly drifted to earth.

"I am Gatimi, King of the WoodFae", said this amazing creature. His pale skin glowed softly in the moonlight, his hair was long and silver, and his eyes silvery-blue with a dark purple ring around the iris. His face looked serene, yet powerful. He seemed ageless – as old as Time itself, and yet as young and beautiful as a youth in his prime. "What does the human seek of me?"

Zaeve stepped forward. "I am Zaeve, musician and citizen of Simarrah. The sage Firdoz sent us to Isfandar to seek help against Afritha who has attacked us, destroyed our land, and taken one of our own. According to Firdoz, Afritha now has the last living Prince of Faerie captive, and will fulfil the prophecy and become immortal. Will you help us defeat the witch?"

"And why should we help you in this war? Ugly and savage, it will surely be!" answered Gatimi.

"Would you want Afritha to rule as Lord of all the Worlds? Do you think she will spare your realm once she is all-powerful?" asked Zaeve. "We cannot defeat her alone, but united with the other realms, we may perhaps be successful."

Gatimi stood as still as a statue for a long time, a really really long time, until Zaeve wondered whether the King had dismissed them or forgotten them altogether. After what seemed like ages, he spoke. "I have consulted with my subjects..." he began, when Harita interrupted, "but you did not say a word!"

"We Fae have our own ways - our silence speaks more wisdom than futile words, my friend" replied Gatimi. "As I was saying, I have consulted with my subjects, and they seem to agree with you. Yes, the WoodFae have suffered much at the hands of Afritha's Gorgoths, and are ready to join you in battle to defeat Afritha, and save the Prince of All Faerie!"

"Make our guests comfortable" he said to the gathering, and silently vanished into the pale mist.

Well, the folk of Isfandar could celebrate as well as the Simarrahns, and in no time at all, platters of delicate fairy food danced magically into the clearing. Enchanted fiddles appeared out of nowhere playing delightfully ridiculous tunes. Even the gnomes, who were as serious as could be, were dancing around and stuffing their faces with large pink cupcakes with frosting and sprinkles.

The trolls were quiet a while, thinking of their two dead companions, mourning them and missing them. Then Krogh, leader of the trolls came up to the men and bowed low before Zaeve. Putting his hand on his heart, he said, "I and my men pledge you our lives and our swords".

After the sumptuous meal was done, and the plates and dishes magically disappeared - fairies are notoriously bad housekeepers, and never ever wash their dishes - Zaeve took out his lute and played a haunting melody. As his music grew louder and more passionate, the WoodFae all gathered at his feet, spellbound by the heavenly sounds of his lute. Later he played incredibly intricate fast little tunes to which the WoodFae danced with wild abandon. As the night wore on, Zaeve's music forged a strong bond between the woodland creatures and the Simarrahns.

Next morning, King Gatimi assembled all his woodland warriors on the shores of Isfandar. Wood fairies and elves, gnomes and sprites, goblins and the fearsome trolls, all gathered - strange fairy weapons in hand, on the rocky coast. With terrifying battle cries that no human ear had ever before heard, they pledged allegiance to Prince Valias and the Forces of Good.

Then Zaeve - peaceful, kind Zaeve took out his lute and sang such thundering songs of war and destruction that even the Fae were struck silent. The shores of Isfandar resounded with his tales of battle and warriors, death and honour, blood and victory, loyalty and courage. His voice rang out loud and furious! He sang of the only creed of warriors everywhere – Victory or Death!

###  SAR-EL-MASH

RAVONN

Although Nada's son Ravonn had been one of the leaders in the rebellion against King Shams, his life had been spared by his uncle. He now lived on the abandoned Kusid ledge of Sar-El-Mash, exiled from the Royal Palace, his heart burning with jealous rage and dark hatred. He listened quietly and carefully to the plans being made for the invasion of Haddeza. Ravonn hated King Shams with passionate hate! He hated him even more for executing his beloved father. He hated Shams yet again because his useless, weak mother had chosen her brother over him, her very own son! Ravonn vowed to himself that he would one day kill his uncle, and rule the beautiful desert kingdom.

The envious young man realised he now had the perfect opportunity to get rid of his uncle once and for all. He would go to Haddeza and tell Queen Afritha about the plans to thwart her attempt at immortality. Naturally, Afritha would be victorious against these puny armies, and she would be grateful to him for his warning, and reward him by setting him up on the throne of Sar-El-Mash.

Early next morning, as soon as he took on his animal form - that of a raven, Ravonn made straight for Haddeza. Thankful he was a bird instead of a land creature, he flew directly to his destination, barely stopping to rest.

For two days he flew hard against the savage North Wind, resting at night, scavenging for whatever food could be found. On the third day, his confidence grew, and hunting and killing and feeding along the way, enjoying his new-found freedom, Ravonn soared high and wild in the sky.

The next afternoon, the raven reached the rotting putrid kingdom of Haddeza, where he faced an unforseen problem. Clusters of grotesquely vile rooks and savage vultures that lived in the grounds of Rith Afra, brutally attacked the newcomer and almost killed him. With loud, harsh croaks they rushed at him, surrounding him, enormous wings flapping in his face, sharp beaks pecking, pulling at his tired flesh. A particularly big and vicious vulture tore off part of his wing, and Ravonn the raven barely managed to crawl under a large rock and hide. At nightfall in his human form, bleeding and bruised, he slowly and painfully made his way to Afritha's castle.

"Halt! Who are you and where do you think you are going?" a repulsive looking female guard stopped him with a vicious spear aimed straight at his heart.

By this time, Ravonn was exhausted, in immense pain, and terrified. He could barely stand. "I have come to warn Queen Afritha... Kingdom of Sar-El-Mash... Prince Valias... armies... prophecy..." was all he could mumble. But it was enough for the guard to drag him straight to Afritha.

After he was fed, and given a strange murky, foul smelling potion that completely healed all his wounds, Afritha questioned the young man. Completely fascinated by her legendary beauty, the young man told her about the great armies that were heading her way.

### KARDIS

Waiting for their new 'master' in Kardis, Xerkis and his companions wondered if they could somehow make him understand their plight.

"I doubt it" said Millos. "These dwarfs are all hard of heart and overly fond of money. I doubt Ronker will prove any different."

Exactly half an hour later, Ronker entered their quarters. He had exchanged his well tailored suit for more comfortable clothes. Beckoning them around the table, he began, "According to the regular Bond Contract of Kardis, I now own you for five years. You will work in my gold mines in the Kherit district. The slave quarters are right next to the mines, and I trust they will be comfortable. My foredwarf Janbir will give you your work schedule. If you encounter any problems, please take them directly to him. No fighting, no insolence, and no drinking allowed in the mines. What you do in your free time is your own business. I have slaves from other realms there as well, so learn to get along with them.

Tonight you sleep in these servants' quarters in my home. Tomorrow afternoon, you will be transported to Kherit. Any questions?"

The Simarrahns had plenty of questions and plenty of complaints, and all three started speaking at the same time.

Xerkis raised his hand for silence. "Sir" he said, "we are free men from Simarrah, and have come here seeking aid from Kardis against Afritha the evil witch who has captured our friend Vhari..."

"Who it turns out is actually Valias the Prince of Faerie", chimed in Nikkin.

"All our realms are in grave danger from Afritha's evil" continued Xerkis, "and we beseech you to set us free and take us to Jabob so we may continue on our mission." And Xerkis took him through the tale of their quest.

Ronker seemed quite uncomfortable during the story, drumming his fingers on the table, and squirming in his chair like a young schoolboy during a long and boring math quiz where he does not know any of the answers.

"Unh, that is that", he mumbled as soon as Xerkis was done. "Let us all get some rest. It has been a busy day, and a slightly bewildering one for you, I imagine. It will take you some time to get used to your new position as slaves. Dinner will be brought in shortly by my house servant. I trust you will find it adequate. Goodnight. I shall see you in the morning." And quick as a wink he was off!

"So that is that!" said Millos angrily. "We need to make a plan."

"Let's have dinner first" said Nikkin as food was brought in by a couple of servants. "We can plan all night long."

"Always thinking of your stomach, right Nikkin?" asked Xerkis fondly.

"Of course! If my belly is not full, my brain does not work!"

"Your brain is useless whether your belly is full or empty" growled Millos.

In a quiet and sombre mood the men finished their supper - not a bad one by Kardian standards, and then sat around the fireplace trying to come up with a plan.

"I think we should overpower the driver of the carriage on the way to Kherit tomorrow. It will be three against one. I like those odds" said Millos.

"How will we get to our boat from a strange place?" asked Xerkis. "Perhaps we should try to escape later tonight once the household is in bed?"

The men were deep in discussion, and did not notice the door open, and Ronker enter accompanied by a tiny, heavily veiled figure.

Ronker coughed to make their presence known, and the Simarrahns turned around, faces flushed with guilt, wondering how much of their conversation had been overheard.

"Please allow me to present my wife, the Lady Pariy". And to the Simarrahns incredible astonishment, the woman shook off her veil to reveal the most exquisitely beautiful creature they had ever seen.

"I am the one who brought Valias to Simarrah" she said in a soft and sweet voice.

It was a very strange day in the Kingdom of Faerie! The skies were brighter than usual, the rivers crystal clear! The leaves on the trees seemed fresher, greener, and bejewelled with a million sparkling dew-drop diamonds. The flowers were more colourful, more fragrant. Happiness sang in every Faerie heart, but woven through the tapestry of joy were threads of sorrow and apprehension! Today brought the dawn of a new hope for Faerie, but through it, today also heralded its destruction!

The new Prince of Faerie had just been born! Normally this event would have been cause for joyous celebration, and the entire Kingdom would have partied for more than a week - but not this time. This time Faerie was expecting trouble. Their little baby Prince's life was in grave danger!

King Zartos summoned Ashar - the noblest of his warriors, and Pariy, who aside from being his cousin was also Queen Huvoni's favourite lady-in-waiting. They both knew what they had to do.

Queen Huvoni asked to see Pariy. The Queen had been crying all day, and at the same time laughing and kissing her beautiful baby boy. Wiping the tears streaming down her face, she beckoned to Pariy.

"Pariy, you and Ashar must soon leave with my little son. Afritha's armies are already on their way, and there is no time to be lost. Simarrah is but a journey of a few moments for you. Once my baby is safe, Ashar will return to Faerie immediately to be by his King's side during the battle. But for you, I have a very special request. Please, my dearest Pariy, I beg you do not return to Faerie where certain death awaits us all. Please dear cousin, after you leave my son in Simarrah, go to another realm, one which Afritha will be least likely to attack. Hide there and live in the shadows, so I may die in peace, knowing that there is at least one of our kind alive in the mortal realms, somewhere close to my Prince. I know it is just hollow comfort, but today I shall take any kind of comfort I am offered. Please do this for me – for love of your Queen."

Tears streaming down her face, Pariy kissed her Queen. "I promise, my Lady", she said. "I will do whatever I am can for my Prince and my Queen. I will see you next in the Gathering Lands. May Ahur have mercy on us all."

"Ahur be with you, for now and forever." And Queen Huvoni kissed her son for the very last time.

After leaving the baby Prince with Quinran and Bayrod, Ashar bade Pariy goodbye, and returned to face his destiny by his King's side. Pariy, although longing to be with her own people, kept her promise, and made for the Realm of Kardis. She dreaded the thought of living there, among dwarfs who would probably kill her or torture her, but she could think of no place safer than Kardis. Even Afritha dared not interfere with the vicious dwarfs. Much as she longed to, she dared not stay in Simarrah. Her presence would surely alert Afritha's spies and compromise her Prince's safety.

Pariy landed late in the evening on a deserted, inhospitable, piece of rocky land in Kardis. Lost and alone, hopeless and miserable, she tried to find some shelter for the night. Spotting a small cave, she made for it, and covering the entrance with branches, curled up, shut her eyes really tight, and tried to sleep. Naturally sleep eluded her, and horrifying thoughts of the plight of her people mixed with her own woes plagued her all night. What had happened in Faerie? Was her Queen still alive? Her own family? Was the little prince crying for his mother? Would the Simarrahns treat him well? And how would she live in this horrible land among a bunch of savages? Pariy sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, loud and long, and yet her tears brought no relief.

Suddenly her body tensed. She heard a rustling sound, and saw a hand push away the branches covering her cave! She froze with terror! And soon came face to face with an equally startled young dwarf with red hair!

Ahur must have heard her prayers, for Ronker instantly fell in love with the divine Faerie! The gentle dwarf took her to his home, where a short time later they got married, and the two lived happily ever after... A lovely Faerie-tale ending for the loyal Faerie!

"As happy as I am with my Ronker, I have not forgotten my promise to my Queen" Pariy whispered. "When my husband told me you had come from Simarrah seeking aid for my Prince, I knew this meeting had been destined by the Fates."

"Now, what can we do to help you?" Ronker asked, his arm protectively around his wife.

"We need Kardian armour and Kardian weapons for our warriors" said Xerkis, as he explained their situation in detail.

"Tomorrow we summon the Council of Elders, and speak to Jabob to see what he can offer" said Ronker. "Now, let us get some rest."

Early next morning, Ronker, dressed in his formal suit, hair neatly combed and braided, accompanied the Simarrahns to the Council Chamber.

Jabob the Elder was a wizened old dwarf who looked like he could still fell a tree with a single blow of his axe. Sturdy and muscular, he peered suspiciously at the Simarrahns, battleaxe ready should it be required.

The Council of Elders had assembled in the town hall. Ronker and the Simarrahns were invited to sit next to the Elders who appeared to be a strange looking bunch - old, wrinkled, suspicious, yet mighty ferocious looking. Hundreds of Kardian citizens sat in neat rows watching the proceedings with great interest.

A strange looking gnarled wooden pipe filled with a foul smelling root was then passed around among the Elders. Each dwarf took a deep whiff, and handed it to the one next to him. After the pipe had been passed around to all the members, Jabob the Elder slowly and carefully addressed the group and explained the situation. "Now let us ponder a while" he said to the Council.

Another pipe was filled and handed around while the council deliberated on the subject. The dwarfs seemed to be in no hurry at all to come to any decision. Xerkis and his friends fidgeted with impatience and anxiety.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, one of the Elders spoke. "What will we get as payment for our weapons?" he asked. The dwarfs all turned to the Simarrahns.

"We do not have any gold to pay for your weapons since Mordross is now in charge of the Simarrahn treasury" said Xerkis. "However, once our land is free from his tyrannical rule, our king will not be ungrateful. Please help us during this difficult time; it will benefit you as well to defeat Afritha once and for all."

The dwarfs seemed to find this very amusing, and some hot-headed ruffian sitting in the back row threw some disgusting squishy fruit - the Kardian version of a rotten tomato, at the Simarrahns' heads!

"We really do not care who wins this war, since Afritha would not dare attack Kardis! And to expect us to wait for payment IF you should win the war is just ridiculous!" guffawed Jabob.

"Our weapons are the finest ever forged, and possibly the only weapons that can fell a Gorgoth, but there is always a price for dwarf metal."

"I will pay for the armour and weapons" Ronker spoke up. "And if Jabob will allow the use of a Kardian warship to transport them, I shall send four of my best guards with the cargo to Haddeza, who will then bring the ship safely back to Kardis."

"And why would you do that?" enquired Jabob, suspiciously squinting at the young dwarf.

The Simarrahns knew Ronker could never let it be known that his wife was a Faerie, and wondered what he would say.

"My slaves have promised me seven times the price of the cargo once they win their war. And that is good profit indeed." Most of the dwarfs in the crowd nodded their heads.

"And what if they lose their war? Are you willing to take that risk, Ronker?" asked Jabob.

"For that kind of profit, I am."

"And what is your surety?" asked Jabob again.

'He is such an annoyingly interfering chap' thought Millos. 'I wish we did not need his help.'

"My slaves will stay back in Kardis and work in my mines until they are able to pay me" the dwarf replied. More nodding from the crowd, although the Simarrahns were shocked and dismayed to hear this.

"I guess Ronker has paid an enormous amount of money for us. And a lot more for the weapons and armour... He does expect some value for his money" said Xerkis.

"A dwarf is a dwarf is a dwarf" said Millos angrily. "Greedy gits, every single one of them!"

Another pipe was filled and slowly passed around. Millos and Nikkin were getting quite agitated, and it took all of Xerkis' skill to keep them calm.

The Council finally agreed to lend a ship to carry the precious cargo to Haddeza. Terms were discussed (naturally) with Ronker, and the deal was done.

The next night a huge Kardian ship set out, laden with weapons made of bone-white dwarfish metal - very sharp, very lethal, and extremely effective against thick Gorgoth hides. The Simarrahns had spent all afternoon under the burning Kardian sun loading the weapons into the ship, and although they were exhausted and sweaty and hungry, there was a sense of satisfaction in their hearts. These weapons could make the difference between victory and defeat, and perhaps save the lives of many of their friends and allies.

Then the men were taken to the caves at Kherit and put to work!

### YAHNNI AND POPPADOM

Yahnni and Poppadom entered the grand marble hall where the Phoenix lay in repose, and were wonderstruck! They had never seen a place such as this ever before. A riot of wildflowers bloomed through the marble floor! Clear waterfalls gently gurgled down mossy walls. Tall marble columns along the sides of the hall were covered with lazy tendrils of rose creepers. Songbirds chirped from their perches high atop the columns. Bubbles with little sparkly bits and pieces trapped inside wafted gracefully overhead. Butterflies in every vibrant hue flitted all around the great hall, as did tiny winged unicorns, no bigger than a baby's fist!

Smiling in delight, Poppadom held out her palm, and a little unicorn shyly alighted on it and folded his wings with a soft flutter. Butterflies rested on her shoulders, and a pink rose brushed against her cheek. Eyes closed in bliss, and a big smile on her lips, Poppadom twirled around the hall, cradling the unicorn in her hand.

"Yahnni, this is where I want to live for the rest of my life! I feel so happy here. This is where I belong! Let us never ever leave" said Poppadom.

Yahnni was confused. He too felt the enchantment of the place, but he knew he had to go on – had to vanquish Afritha and drive Ahrimn out of Simarrah. And he could not do it without Poppadom's help.

"Poppadom, listen to me!" he pleaded. "We cannot just forget the outside world and hide in here. We have to get the Khanzaar and go to Haddeza."

"Well then Mr. Yahnni, you can just go on ahead without me. I am not leaving!" Poppadom's mind was made up.

"Stop being so selfish, you little brat!" Yahnni almost screamed at her. "Our friends are out there counting on us. They are risking their lives to save Vhari and save Simarrah. While you are dancing around with unicorns and butterflies! You stay here, then. I am leaving."

"Oh stop being such a boring goody two shoes! Anyway, you cannot pluck the Khanzaar without me, you know?" Poppadom smirked.

"Oh well, then I shall die trying!" and Yahnni turned around and walked towards the great dais between the heavily carved marble columns, where the magnificent Phoenix lay in deathly stupor. His beautiful golden and red and orange and purple hued wings fanned out around him in a multi-coloured halo, and his breast shimmered with soft pale golden down. Clutching Firdoz's amulet, and murmuring a prayer, Yahnni stretched out his hand to pluck the precious feather.

"Noooooo! Yahnni, don't!" Poppadom shrieked and ran to hold back Yahnni's hand. "You will be burned alive if you touch the Phoenix" her voice quavered. "I will do this. Just leave this to me."

Poppadom shook off the enchantment she had felt earlier. Taking a deep breath, the young girl made her way to the slumbering Phoenix, and calmly and confidently murmuring the incredibly powerful combination of the Slumber spell along with the spell of Strength - something only a witch with Poppadom's incredible talent could achieve, started stroking the bird gently with her hand. Incanting faster and faster, louder and louder, her voice echoed through the immense chamber, until the entire room resounded with her chant. At the crescendo, she put her hand over the precious feather, and quick as a flash, plucked it out from over the majestic bird's heart.

Yahnni held his breath while the Phoenix stirred a bit, but thankfully did not awaken. Had he woken from his deep sleep, they both would have met a fiery death, burned to cinders by the mighty Phoenix's blazing tail!

The acolyte felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him figuratively and physically, as with great amazement he realised that Poppadom had grabbed hold of his hand and was pulling him up from the depths of Donger. Up, up, up she pulled him, back through the Magical Dimension to the surface of the Sea of Mercury, and from there, through a magical tunnel of shimmery lightning sparks, she transported the astonished young man and herself directly on to the shores of Haddeza.

Once safely on the sand with the precious feather, Poppadom shot the young man a very feminine, beguiling look, very pleased with herself for having succeeded so well. And she was thrilled to find that Yahnni was looking at her with considerable admiration as well.

Unfortunately, right then, Ma Trumble's head floated in front of Poppadom's eyes. "Look at you, young lady", the witchmaster admonished her. "Dirty and dishevelled, just like a street urchin!"

"Bbbut.." Poppadom stammered, "I have just gone through the most dangerous mission of my life, and I succeeded! Look, here is the precious Khanzaar! Doesn't that count?"

"There is no excuse for sloppiness!" sniffed Ma Trumble. "But my dear, I am really proud of you today, although you did let the enchantment of the hall get to you...." she added with a tiny hint of a smile. "Now, wipe that filthy face, and straighten your clothes!" she ordered - and vanished!

### AFRITHA AND RAVON

Afritha laughed heartily at Ravonn's tale of the coming invasion. "Let them come with their armies, and their puny weapons, and their feeble and powerless sages", she cried. "They are no match for me and my mighty Gorgoths! We are invincible!

However my good Ravonn, I appreciate your coming to me with this information, and as a token of my gratitude I am granting you a very special position. You will be my familiar, my own precious pet. Perch atop my watch tower and keep your ears and eyes open at all times."

At this little Jubal the imp was not one bit happy. He darted a venomous look at the newcomer who could well usurp his place in Afritha's heart.

"But Mistress," he began, "How do we know we can trust this creature? He may be a spy, or even a sorcerer in disguise! Let us send him off to the Dungeon Master, just as a precaution." Here Jubal was thrilled to see the look of terror on Ravonn's face!

"Shh Jubal" his mistress quickly hushed the little imp. Taking him aside, she whispered, "It is always to our advantage to have one of the enemy working for us. Do not worry – Ravonn is completely expendible once this silly war is done. Do you think I could ever trust a traitor?"

Jubal smiled a smile of pure impish glee!

Then turning back to Ravonn she said, "Come along my dear Ravonn. Let us think up ways to create panic and havoc in the hearts and ranks of my 'invaders' for our entertainment. Let us welcome my enemies to Haddeza!"

Afritha took Ravonn and Jubal to the High Tower. Making directly for her boiling cauldron, she added two pinches of greyish powder from an old smoky jar to the thick, foul liquid inside. The cauldron bubbled and smoked, brewed and churned until thin claws of black smoke appeared, and wafted out the tower window.

When the first rays of the sun appeared in the sky, and Ravonn the raven flew up to the roof of the tower, he saw an incredible sight - as far as eye could see, rolled orchards, green and fresh. Trees hung heavy with plump delicious-looking golden apples, while bushes bloomed with clusters of juicy dark red berries. Little streams sparkling with clear, cool water zigzagged all through the gardens. Lush green grass caressed the ground like a blanket - soft and inviting! Shady nooks beckoned tired wanderers. And most amazing of all, millions of butterflies, in every shade of the rainbow, wings fluttering as they flew daintily through the bushes turned the entire garden into a veritable Paradise!

"One bite of my fruit, one sip of the water, and our brave invaders will drop dead like flies" heartily laughed Afritha. "See how cool and inviting my garden looks, eh Ravonn? Would not any weary traveller's heart be filled with delight at this delectable sight? And the butterflies? See how they enchant the senses? Do you know what they really are? Poisoned darts with breath-takingly delicate butterfly wings! They will pierce the invaders as they fly innocently among them."

Ravonn was very relieved that he had not been foolish enough to join the other fighters against Afritha. He knew he had made the right decision. Although, he was a bit disappointed that Afritha had not given him more lavish gifts. Still, perhaps after the battle.....

I had better warn Tirith, he thought.

Ravonn was making his preparations for the journey to Haddeza. He had planned to leave at early dawn as soon as he took on his raven avatar. His sister Tirith had come to bid him goodbye. She was the only one who knew of his intention, the only one who visited him in exile, the only one who brought him news from the Palace.

"So my brother, you are definitely going to Haddeza?" she enquired.

"Yes, I must" Ravonn replied. "I am not going to live in exile, not going to sit back and watch our uncle usurp my throne, and poison my mother's heart against me. Come with me, Tirith. I am sure Afritha will give us the throne of Sar-El-Mash if we help her."

"O brother, you know I feel no hatred towards Uncle Shams. But I detest the Simarrahn Akelis! He is the one who is responsible for our father's capture. I want to see him slaughtered with the same brutality shown our father. Did you know he has been chosen to take the special feather, whatever that is, to Prince Valias?"

"Don't fret, sister. If Akelis enters the witch's castle, I shall make sure he is torn to pieces! I shall ingratiate myself with Queen Afritha. You must keep Akelis in your sight at all times. We are lucky that we are both birds of the sky - we can move more freely than most. Warn me as soon as Akelis makes it through the Castle walls - that is if he even makes it there alive, and leave the rest to me."

Tirith embraced her brother. "I will see you in Haddeza then, Ravonn. Take care of yourself."

"You too, dear sister. Do not worry. In a very short time, Shams and Akelis will be dead, and the crown of Sar-El-Mash will sit firmly on my head!"

### VHARI

Valias now found it extremely difficult to pretend to like Afritha. She utterly repulsed him but he still had to behave like young wonder-struck Vhari. For the first time since arriving in Haddeza, he avoided sitting next to her at dinner, avoided being in her company as far as possible, and even pretended to be asleep and snoring loudly if she entered his chamber.

Although Afritha found his behaviour slightly strange, she did not give it much thought. She was confident her enchantment was strong enough to keep Vhari happily by her side. However, after hearing what Ravonn had to say, the wily witch did not want to chance Vhari wandering in the grounds while the Simarrahns were in Haddeza. Anyway, it would all be over within less than two days. Afritha decided it was better to have Vhari confined until then.

"Shall I take him to the dungeons?" Jubal asked very hopefully.

"No you fool! Do you think I want the Master of the Dungeon to hurt him? Or weaken his heart? I need a strongly beating heart for the Ritual of Immortality. Take him to the High Tower!"

"Come along Mr. Vhari" Jubal taunted Vhari with immense pleasure, as he shepherded him to his new prison.

Although Valias went docilely enough with Jubal to the tower room, he was deeply concerned about this turn of events. He had hoped to be out in the grounds when the messenger arrived with the magic feather. Now he had no way of knowing when and how it would be given him.

Then Afritha arrived, and pretending to cast a spell of protection, bound him with a powerful incantation to the High Tower.

"That will hold him here safely" she thought; "one less thing for me to worry about. Although it will be a shame to kill my lovely Faerie Prince..." It amazed Afritha how fond she had become of Vhari! Her cold ugly heart had never tasted real love, her head always prevailed. Love was fleeting - so she had heard; Immortality was of course, eternal!

### BOOK 2

### HADDEZA

### THE HEROES ARRIVE

The fifth morning dawned bright and clear on Haddeza. And what a morning it was! The sea and shores of Haddeza dazzled with the most awe inspiring sight! Ships, ships, ships – as far as eye could see, their brightly coloured standards fluttering proudly in the wind!

Ships from Isfandar built with twisted gnarled wood that glowed from within - a graceful fairy warrior standing straight and tall at the bow. Goblins, trolls and sprites clad in luminescent armour lined the decks. In the lead ship Zaeve was chanting the beat for the fairies at the oars. Gatimi's silver and gold flag sparkled proudly in the clear blue sky!

Ships from Rhinlandia built of strong brown oak, sturdy and powerful - each ship flying the standard of the war lord who led his army. Roghaar and Sheronas stood side by side at the bow of the leading ship.

Ships from Sar-El-Mash looking almost like small versions of Noah's Ark, carried the Mashee day and night in their different avatars. At times a lion prowled the deck with Akelis and his friends; at times it was King Shams! A keen eyed eagle kept silent vigil atop the mast.

The ship from Kardis bearing weapons and armour was a strange and terrifying sight! Made of bone-white dwarfish metal, it looked like a huge shark with jaws wide open, razor-sharp teeth bared, ready to tear apart the enemy! The Kardian ship would intimidate the foe at first sight with its brute strength and fearsome fighting power. The ship was manned by four rugged and powerful dwarfs, who later decided to stay on and 'enjoy the sport'!

Last of all to arrive was the small Simarrahn boat carrying Kyroz, Brinn, Tarwyn, Gham-Zhi and Lhing-Kin.

Propelled by Poppadom's powerful magic, Yahnni and the young witch had arrived before everybody else on the shores of Haddeza. They collapsed on the beach, completely exhausted! As hungry as they were, they could not take a single step. And Poppadom desperately needed to recover her strength after the arduous strain of making such powerful magic.

They lay on the sand and slept for hours and hours, right until the first ship came in.

Zaeve was the first to run ashore. He made straight for the sleeping Yahnni, and shook him awake. The two friends embraced, thrilled that they had successfully completed the first part of their mission - and survived! Very soon, they were joined by Roghaar, Akelis, Kyroz, and the other young Simarrahns, all eager to relate their adventures. It seemed almost as if they were back in the Seven Seas Alehouse, so exuberant were they! Talking, laughing, hugging, the young Simarrahns were glad to be together. Poppadom could not stop smiling, delighted to be included in this special group, especially when Yahnni told everybody how her magic and courage had helped them get the Khanzaar. They all looked at her with respect and camaraderie.

As the ships arrived one by one, and the passengers disembarked, the beautiful enchanted gardens of Haddeza beckoned them. After their long arduous journey, and the burden of the enormous battle ahead of them, the cool, refreshing gardens seemed like a little piece of heaven! Most of the men and beasts that went ashore made straight for Afritha's orchard. Fresh fruit, berries, and cool, clear water! Shady nooks to rest in and relax! And gorgeous, colourful butterflies to please their tired eyes!

But alas! A few bites of the poisoned fruit, a few sips from the fresh running streams, and one by one the warriors clutched their throats and fell down in agony! The deadly butterflies took care of many others!

Ravonn had been hovering over the garden, taking great delight at the death of so many of the allies. Truly Afritha was immensely powerful, and would finish off this puny invasion in no time at all. Now if only he could warn Tirith...

Ah! There she was flying towards the meadow, a tiny little bluebird! Ravonn headed straight towards her. "Tirith, turn back!" he exclaimed. "This is a garden of death. It has been magicked by Afritha to destroy the armies. Get away!"

"Ravonn my brother, you are looking well" Tirith was happy to see her brother.

"You should not be seen talking to me, Tirith" cautioned Ravonn. "Just in case... Now, fly back to the Mashee, and keep your eye on Akelis when the battle begins. I shall wait for you at Rith Afra." Ravonn spread his black wings, and like a corrupt omen flew back to his perch at the castle.

In the bewitched garden, the allied warriors were reeling in vast numbers. Nobody knew what was going on.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" yelled an old, wizened elf running towards the meadow. "This is the poison of Zakhum! This is an enchanted garden! A garden of deceit and death! Get out immediately!"

The fortunate few who heard him ran speedily back to the shore, but by now, many brave warriors had been lost. Especially hard hit were the Mashee, who in their animal form had run swiftly towards the fresh water!

The Simarrahns were desolate; they had lost both Nikkin and Ballan before the battle had even begun!

With Jubal humming in excitement on her shoulder, Afritha stood looking out from her tower, chuckling with evil glee! "Welcome to Haddeza my lovelies!" she cackled.

### RENEWED RESOLVE!

That night the allies bade sad farewell to their departed friends. The shores of Haddeza glowed with the light of a hundred funeral pyres as the dead heroes were honoured with a warrior's farewell. Yahnni led the entire group in prayer - for the souls of the dead, as well as for speedy victory for those who lived to battle Afritha's evil army. The WoodFae of Isfandar laid out their dead in burning boats on the sea so their souls could journey on to their eternity.

The mood on the shores of Haddeza was sombre, yet angry! Furiously angry! The allies were now resolved more than ever to defeat and destroy Afritha completely.

As the fires died down, Zaeve played an exquisitely haunting melody on his lute, and to his surprise a lovely young girl stepped up, joined in, and sang a song in honour of the dead warriors in a voice so pure, so crystal clear, so heart touching, it sent shivers down Zaeve's spine. The allies grew completely silent while she sang, their hearts and souls filled with loving memories of their departed companions. Then Roghaar, joined by the warriors of Rhinlandia started stomping and thumping their weapons on the rocks until the ground shook with their ferocious battle cries. Zaeve immediately took up the rhythm, driving the entire group into a wild frenzy! The warriors, every last one of them, were ready to fight, ready to kill, ready to die! Ready to win!

That night there was hardly any sleep for anybody as preparations for the battle began. Swords were sharpened, bows adjusted, knives honed to killing perfection. Some of the Rhinaries built a trebuchet, while the trolls and goblins of Isfandar collected huge rocks and boulders to use as missiles.

Roghaar, Zaeve, Akelis, Kyroz, Poppadom, and Yahnni warmed themselves around a blazing fire, excitedly talking and comparing notes.

"Poor Xerkis", Akelis gave the others the news he had received from the dwarfs. "He really so wanted to fight Afritha..."

"Yes, can you imagine working as slaves in dwarf mines?" The Simarrahns were truly upset for their absent friends.

Soon Yahnni and Poppadom got up to leave. "Poppadom and I set out at first dawn", he said. "We now go forth to the Cavern of Dark Deceptions where I must try and prevent Jaduvan from leaving his underground prison."

"Peace and success go with you my friends" Zaeve embraced the young acolyte and his companion.

"May Ahur be with you all and grant you swift victory. My salutations to our Vhari when you release him, or should I say, Prince Valias? Here Akelis, I am confident you will deliver this to Valias in time", and handing over the precious feather to Akelis, Yahnni left with Poppadom to prepare for the coming morn.

Poppadom settled herself in a peaceful corner, mentally recharging her energy for the great Spell of Earthing. She would not only have to make a path through the earth for Yahnni, but also sustain it while Yahnni was in the Cavern of Dark Deceptions. She knew how important her task was. There was not another witch alive who had the ability to do that!

After a while, Roghaar, Akelis, and Kyroz left to join their own groups.

Zaeve was still warming himself near the fire, when he was joined by the lovely singer. She looked so serene and peaceful - her long chestnut coloured hair glowing in the light of the fire, and her soft brown eyes smiling at Zaeve.

"I am Marzhaan, a huge admirer of your music", she said.

A beautiful smile lit up Zaeve's face. "And now I am an admirer of your amazing voice!" he said.

Marzhaan sat down next to him, and they spent the remainder of the night talking in front of the warm fire, until finally just before dawn Marzhaan left to join her group.

Zaeve felt a lightness and happiness in his heart, and with a smile a mile wide, he returned to the camp of the WoodFae of Isfandar.

### THE CAVERN OF DARK DECEPTIONS

In the very early hours of the morning, much before the sun was up, Yahnni and Poppadom made for the Mound of Sorkar where Yahnni would begin his perilous journey to Jaduvan's underground prison.

Poppadom was extremely calm and yet humming with a strange electric energy as they approached the mound. She walked around the area, eyes closed, concentrating with her mind and heart, until she came to a slight dip in the ground.

"This is the place; I shall magick the Spell of Earthing here." And gently kneeling down, she made herself go extremely still, and slowly began chanting in a high keening voice while twirling her hands around her head. Faster and faster and faster she went, until Yahnni could literally see the energy pouring out of her palms, sparking and swirling all around her. And then slowly the energy made its way like a powerful laser beam towards the earth and melted a path - a tunnel for Yahnni to enter.

Very gently Yahnni said goodbye to Poppadom. "If I am not back by nightfall, leave this place and join the rest of our companions, or at least those still left alive" he said.

Poppadom looked at him steadfastly. "I shall be waiting right here. Until you come back. No matter how long it takes" she whispered softly. Gently touching her serious face, Yahnni made his way into the tunnel she had conjured up.

Poppadom turned her concentration back on her spell, a Holding Spell this time, knowing she would have to sustain the tunnel until Yahnni could get back. To her, this was the most important thing she would ever do in her life.

### THE BATTLE BEGINS

As the first rays of the sun overtook the dark veil of night, the various groups of warriors made ready for battle! The air was thick with excitement and danger! The allies' goal was to create a massive diversion, keeping Afritha's armies busy on the battlefield so Akelis could get to Rith Afra and deliver the Khanzaar to Valias before nightfall. Afritha's armies would naturally be out in full strength to prevent this. The allies were ready and eager to destroy as many of her evil monsters as they could. The battle would be long and brutal, but they were determined to fight to the very end.

The shores of Haddeza were resplendent with groups of warriors standing to attention, awaiting orders from their leaders.

The Rhinary warriors lined up with military precision behind Roghaar and Sheronas. Roghaar looked especially handsome this morning, wearing bone-white dwarfish armour, plumed helmet in hand, the famous sword Dragobaz by his side.

Sheronas was the perfect foil to his good looks, with her exceptional beauty and unusual colouring. She had eschewed the dwarf armour in favour of her own made of burnished bronze.

Lord Shronos and Lord Keros stood at the head of their Rhinary warriors, brave and proud. They were raring to prove their mettle on the battlefield!

To the left of the Rhinaries, stood Zaeve, at the head of the WoodFae army of Isfandar. Zaeve with his long brown curls and slender physique looked as beautiful as any wood fairy. The fairies' armour was light and almost translucent, but tough enough to withstand a deadly spear or a winged arrow. The gnomes, sprites, and goblins looked fearsome in Kardian armour, deadly Kardian weapons in hand. Fiercest and scariest of the WoodFae were the trolls - sharp teeth, sharp daggers, and sharp spears ready!

The Rhinaries were flanked on the right by Akelis, along with the beasts of Sar-El-Mash. King Shams in all his leonine glory stood alongside the Simarrahn men, majestic and magnificent in the morning light! Behind him ranged animals and birds as far as eye could see - mighty eagles, dangerous tigers, sleek panthers, intelligent wolves, sharp-eyed hawks, wily foxes, powerful horses, swift hounds, scary vultures, rhinos with well honed horns, bears, and more. Serpents slithered sleek and deadly, ready to strike the enemy with their deadly venom, or coil around thick Gorgoth necks and squeeze the life out of them.

The two young Wind Warriors from Lara Kon sat calmly in a corner, meditating and preparing their minds and bodies for the battle ahead.

The other Simarrahn men split up equally among the different groups, excited to be in battle!

The most menacing and war-like of all were the four dwarves from Kardis who had decided to stay back and help the allies. Bone-white Kardian armour, bone-white helmets, with their long dreadlocks and beards hanging out, they stood bold and formidable, battleaxes and swords ready to inflict some serious destruction!

Zaeve stepped forward and addressed the assembled armies. "My good friends and allies, I thank you all very sincerely for helping Simarrah, for offering your lives to save Prince Valias, for joining us on this fateful day! May we all be victorious this day over Afritha and her evil minions! Let us shake off her tyranny once and for all, and return peace and prosperity to all the realms. My friends - Victory or Death!"

Then Roghaar stepped forward and blew on the Great Horn. And so began the epic battle to save Prince Valias! The battle to save Simarrah! The battle to save the worlds!

On the other side of Haddeza, Lord Dreath had summoned his Gorgoth army and was preparing for battle as well. The Gorgoths stood mean and vicious and eager to annihilate the enemy! Gorgoths, Vudrals, and Krilrexes all stood to attention when Queen Afritha arrived in their midst and urged them to Kill!

"O my beauties, my faithful Lord Dreath, my staunch army; today is the day you prove your loyalty to me! The enemy has dared enter our land, has dared encamp on our shores, and is even now preparing to attack! Advance upon them and destroy them utterly. Do not leave a single fighter alive to tell the tale! Kill them all!

Above all, do not allow even one of the enemy to enter the grounds of Rith Afra. Guard my castle well, and tomorrow we shall all reap unimaginable rewards, for tonight I fulfil my destiny!"

Then Lord Dreath blew the Horn of War, and with a thunderous bellow, Afritha's armies set out to battle!

### ON THE BATTLEFIELD

The two armies met on the Field of Zartek, on the outskirts of Haddeza. The very earth shook with furious shaking as they engaged one another in combat.

The Gorgoths were huge and ferocious. They relied on brute strength and cruelty as they grabbed the enemy, snapped him in two, and most times made a meal out of him! With a loud belch, they spat out the bones.

But although small and puny compared to the Gorgoths, the allies were far more intelligent and planned their strategy well! And the dwarfish weapons were savage enough to dispatch any Gorgoths who had the misfortune to come their way. Many a warrior silently thanked Xerkis and his companions when Kardian armour saved his life that day.

The Krilrexes were slow and cumbersome, but killed their opponents in great numbers just by stepping on them.

The fight seemed very one sided, but in spite of that, the allies fought bravely and valiantly. Zaeve and Roghaar were at the forefront trying to clear a way for Akelis to reach Afritha's castle. Both fought like maniacs, adrenalin pumping furiously through their veins. Zaeve was very happy to be in the thick of the action. He knew that this day he could not lose. If he died, he would soon be with his beloved Raisya, and if he lived, he would taste sweet victory over Afritha and all her evil cohorts - he would have avenged Raisya's death.

Roghaar fought with his heart and soul like the noble warrior he was always meant to be. And Sheronas was fighting just as bravely by his side. Both Roghaar and Sheronas worked in unison and dispatched many Gorgoths as came their way. Suddenly two ugly Gorgoths jumped on Roghaar at the same time, one from the front, the other from the rear! Roghaar squirmed out from under them, leaving them to savagely kill each other. Sheronas laughed at Roghaar's cunning and planted a quick kiss on his cheek as she continued to battle by his side.

The fairies battled ferociously, as did all the WoodFae, especially the trolls and goblins. The fairies' arrows flew straight and true, while the elves and gnomes got together, and bravely attacked the Gorgoths with their spears. Quite a few Gorgoths fell to the little creatures. A group of goblins worked the mighty Trebuchets, filling the bowl with huge boulders and then letting them fly into enemy ranks. Some of the crazier goblins launched themselves from the Trebuchet, landing on really surprised Gorgoth heads, which they then very neatly chopped off with their Kardian swords!

Gham-Zhi and Lhing-Kin flew unseen through the Gorgoth army killing the monsters swiftly and silently. Whirling fiercely, they sliced off the heads of the Gorgoths and scaled the bodies of the Krilrexes. The cumbersome beasts were no match for the almost invisible warrior duo.

The warriors of Rhinlandia attacked like true heroes, brave and bold! Although they lost many of their ranks that day, their resolve never wavered, and they pushed on and on, trying to clear the way for Akelis to safely reach Afritha's castle.

In their animal avatars, the Mashee countered the attacks of the Gorgoths and Krilrexes with deadly cunning! The Gorgoths got a nasty shock as groups of panthers jumped on to their backs, and holding on, tore apart Gorgoth flesh with their deadly teeth! Elephants charged at the enemy with maniacal fury! And packs of wolves brought down many an unsuspecting monster!

Brave swift horses carried soldiers safely through the ranks of Lord Dreath's army, or carried the injured out of the fray.

The battlefield was strewn with bodies of the dead from both sides.

But no matter how bravely they fought, the allies did not seem to be getting closer to their goal; Akelis was still far from the castle, and the afternoon was wearing on....

### AND IN THE AIR...

As bravely as the allies fought in the field, in the air it was another matter altogether! The Vudrals swooped high above the battlefield, screeching madly as they wreaked havoc among allied ranks! Flying off with soldiers in their strong claws, the monstrous creatures either tore their flesh apart, or flung them down to their death!

The fairies shot hundreds of arrows into the sky at the winged monsters, but although many found their mark, the Vudrals continued their attack.

King Shams gave the Mashee birds of prey a new battle plan. They all took to the skies at once, like an angry feathered storm. Majestic eagles, hunter hawks, fierce kites, and sharp beaked vultures flew among the Vudrals, swooping around them, confusing them, coming at them from all sides, trying to peck out the sinister creatures' eyes! As soon as they brought down a Vudral, the trolls took over, killing the creature with much pleasure! The air was rent with the horrific death shrieks of the hellish birds! And with the laughter of the battle-happy trolls!

The battle waged mightily on land and air, but Akelis still had a long way to go! And the sun was slowly beginning to set in the Haddezan sky!

Finally, the ferocious dwarfs of Kardis decided to take Akelis to the castle themselves.

"Come on Akelis, time is a wasting. Let's get you to the witch's haunt" Janko the dwarf grabbed the young man from amidst a group of Rhinaries.

Beli, one of the more heavily muscled dwarfs, flung an astonished Akelis over his shoulder much like a sack of potatoes, while the other three shouting insanely fierce war cries thundered through the ranks of fighters. Short enough to go largely unnoticed, they wove their way between the legs of the massive Gorgoths, felling as many of the hairy monsters as they could along the way. Zaeve, noticing their strategy brought over some trolls and a large group of Rhinary warriors to provide a diversion, giving the dwarfs much needed time.

"Janko, look out! Behind you! Gorgoths with knives!" Roghaar yelled to the old dwarf. But although Janko managed to kill his three attackers, the brave dwarf did not survive the twisted Haddezan dagger stuck in his heart. Their friend's death gave the other dwarfs greater resolve, and with blood-curdling roars, they fought their way through Gorgoth ranks, Akelis still slung over Beli's shoulder.

The sun was almost setting, when Akelis clutching the precious Khanzaar arrived at the gates of Rith Afra.

### JADUVAN

Yahnni made his way into the winding tunnel deep under the bowels of the earth. 'Oh Ahur! Oh Ahur!' he thought, 'I am actually walking through solid earth! I hope Poppadom can hold the spell, or else I shall be squashed flat between solid rock, and probably end up around some woman's neck as a fossilized jewel!'

Mile after mile after weary mile Yahnni continued, not knowing when he would arrive at his destination.

After a couple of hours, Yahnni felt the heat from the great Fire of Dhojak as the tunnel wound closer and closer to the burning blaze! The air in the passage became dry and searing hot. Yahnni was terrified. 'This is not good' he thought; 'this is not good at all. Any moment now, the walls of the tunnel are going to blow up in a fiery blast, and Dhojak will devour me.'

Fortunately, the tunnel soon meandered away from the Fire, and Yahnni breathed a sigh of relief. After another couple of hours, the narrow passage gave way to a clean, dry area, almost as big as a small room, and Yahnni realised that he had arrived at his destination. A thick, tangled shroud of cobwebs concealed the entrance to the Cavern of Dark Deceptions.

'This is it', thought Yahnni, and taking a deep breath, he tore apart the cobweb curtain blocking the entrance to the cave. The very same instant, the curtain grew back, thicker and stronger than before! The more he tried to rip it apart, the faster it sealed up again! Yahnni heard deep mocking laughter from within the cave.

"Hold up my amulet to the curtain", Firdoz's voice whispered in his head. Yahnni raised the amulet to the curtain, where it started glowing and humming like a crazed glow-worm, and sliced through the cobwebs like a hot knife through butter!

Slowly and cautiously Yahnni entered the cave. The cave was so dimly lit that he could barely see anything. To add to his confusion, the walls of the cavern kept shifting, moving constantly and gracefully, continuously changing the dimensions of the cave, until Yahnni did not know whether he was standing at the entrance or right in the middle of the cavern! As his eyes adjusted to the strange purple light, shadows – elongated exaggerated shadows - shadows of strangely hideous creatures, some with horns, others with multiple heads, still others with weirdly shaped torsos, slithered all around him. Very hesitantly (and foolishly), he put his hand out to touch them, but his hand passed right through. Yahnni followed the glow of the light into the cave, until it shone brighter and brighter.

"Welcome my young Yahnni" a voice deep and rich and oddly familiar called from a corner.

Yahnni looked towards the direction of the sound, and an icy chill froze his heart as he found himself face to face with Firdoz smiling and chewing on his beard!

THE BATTLE CONTINUES

Arriving at the walls of Rith Afra, the dwarfs and Akelis were challenged by two extremely ferocious Gorgoth guards. The three dwarfs fought fiercely, keeping the guards occupied while Akelis tried to enter the castle grounds, but the walls were too high, and there was no opening large enough for him to slip through.

Lhing-Kin fighting some Gorgoths nearby, noticed Akelis' plight, and she called out to Gham-Zhi. Realising the need for urgency, Gham-Zhi immediately grabbed Akelis and sitting him on his shoulders, made for the castle walls. Lhing-Kin twirled like a crazed dervish in front of Gham-Zhi, clearing the path to the castle.

The Gorgoth guards continued their brutal attack on the dwarfs, and Akelis seeing their plight from his perch on Gham-Zhi's shoulders hesitated, longing to go help them.

"Go, go, go!" roared one of the dwarfs as he engaged the Gorgoths in combat. Akelis knew he had to get the Khanzaar to Vhari in time. Or else everybody's sacrifice would have been in vain! With a graceful leap, Gham-Zhi scaled the high walls of Rith Afra effortlessly, and gently deposited Akelis in the castle grounds. He looked around for Lhing-Kin, and noticed that she had gone back to help the dwarfs.

The Gorgoths had killed all three dwarfs and although fatally wounded themselves, were using the final moments of their gruesome lives attacking an injured Lhing-Kin. With a roar of intense fury, Gham-Zhi whirled in their midst and carried Lhing-Kin away from the fray. But too late! The young girl was bleeding profusely from her wounds, and smiling sweetly into Gham-Zhi's eyes, she gave up her mortal coil. With a howl of unbearable grief mixed with pure rage, Gham-Zhi plucked the dagger from his belt, and in a crazed dance of death struck it viciously into every Gorgoth he came across. Like a black tornado, he flew among the Gorgoths, strewing death and destruction in his path. He was a blazing windstorm, he was a crazed typhoon, he was a deadly hurricane! Gorgoth after Gorgoth fell to his vicious attack. When he was too injured and too exhausted to continue, using the very last remaining bit of strength, he dragged himself to where Lhing-Kin lay, and holding her dead body in his arms, he breathed his last. The hapless young lovers who had no safe haven in life were now united for all eternity in death.

### AKELIS AND VHARI

Akelis was now within the grounds of Rith Afra. But how would he get to Vhari in time? Where could the wicked queen be hiding him? Desperate for answers, Akelis was lost in thought, when something hit him on the head. Looking up, he saw Vhari at the window of the High Tower. Akelis' face broke out in a huge happy grin! He was so happy to see his old friend, he forgot all danger completely! But danger did not forget him!

King Shams knew that Akelis' was the most important task during the battle. If he did not succeed, the entire effort would have been futile. He realised Akelis would need some help once he got into the castle grounds. He gathered his tinier bird subjects.

"I want one of you to stay close to Akelis throughout the day" he said. "Perhaps the witch Afritha has kept the Prince hidden or locked where Akelis cannot get to him. As birds, you can fly anywhere, or enter through the smallest openings. Find out where the Prince is being held, and if necessary, deliver the Khanzaar to Valias if Akelis cannot get to him. Any volunteers?"

Tirith could not believe her good fortune! This was going to be a lot easier than she imagined. She immediately volunteered.

Jubal too had been keeping cautious vigil in the castle grounds. And keeping an alert eye on Vhari whom he did not trust at all! The instant he saw Akelis, he knew trouble had entered Rith Afra. He summoned the castle guards from the other end of the grounds.

"The castle wall has been breached. Go kill the human" he screamed at them.

Tirith, hovering above the castle grounds, watched with immense pleasure as a group of female Gorgoth guards, more deadly and ruthless than the males, ran over to Akelis, circled the young Simarrahn and were closing in for the kill.

"No!" shouted Valias from his tower. "Nooooooo....." as he saw the Gorgoths plunge their spears over and over again into poor Akelis' body.

Valias burst into uncontrollable tears - tears of rage and sorrow and frustration! Jumbled emotions whirled through his heart and mind - love for his dying childhood friend, frustration and rage for being unable to help him, pain for the death of his father and Raisya, deep longing for Mhirrin, self anger for having been the cause of all of this! But most of all he felt furious with Afritha! Furious knowing that even now, his friends were fighting, and losing their lives and their loved ones to save him!

As Akelis lay dying, his lifeblood gushing from his numerous wounds, Valias bade tearful farewell to his childhood friend.

'Akelis my beloved brother, my best friend, may Ahur grant you every glory in the FutureLands. I shall never let your sacrifice be in vain. Feather or no feather, I shall kill Afritha one way or another, or die trying! My dear Akelis, I wish I could give you the warrior's farewell you so richly deserve. I wish I could be by your side right now, I wish I could undo what has been done to you. But my dear friend, I am bound by magic in the High Tower by that evil witch.

Do you remember old Tarzo's orchards and how we used to pluck the apples while he chased us out? And how sweet the stolen fruit tasted? Do you remember how we used to hide behind King Shoarib's palace and kiss the maids there? And how we danced all night to Zaeve's music? None of that would have been fun without you by my side.

My beloved Akelis, your flowing blood seeping into this ground has made pure this unholy piece of Haddeza.

I am so fortunate to have known you my dearest friend. Farewell...'

Akelis felt Vhari's words echo somewhere in his head and heart as he lay dying, and just before he gave up this life, he raised his eyes to the tower and smiled. 'I will be waiting for you on the other side', he thought, 'and then what fun we shall have!'

### CASTLE RITH AFRA

King Shams, a wise and experienced ruler, did not trust Tirith completely. Although she had shown him no hostility, she was still the daughter of the traitor Bagha, and sister of the other traitor Ravonn. And she seemed over-eager to protect Akelis. After sending Tirith on her way, he ordered Laleeq the dove to follow Akelis as well, and report to him or Zaeve if there was any sign of trouble.

So it was that Laleeq witnessed Akelis' slaying - watched as he lay dying, the Khanzaar firmly clasped in his hand. While the Gorgoths were busy fighting over their kill, she swooped down from the skies and plucked the precious feather from the dead man's hand. The Gorgoths were too caught up squabbling with one another to notice Laleeq, but there was one creature who saw what she had done. Ravonn had been sitting on his tower perch relishing watching Akelis being tormented by the guards, when his sharp raven eyes saw the dove pluck the precious feather from the dead man's fingers, and he recognised his fellow Mashee. Down swooped Ravonn heading straight for Laleeq! Laleeq knew she had just a few short minutes to make it to the High Tower and give the feather to Valias. She did her very best to evade the raven's cruel beak, but Ravonn kept on after her. She had to fly away from the tower to keep him from killing her, losing more precious time. The plump, well-fed raven soon gave up the chase, and signalling a couple of vultures who were in the palace grounds, flew off to inform Afritha who was brewing up more Vudrals in the Field of Zartek to compensate for those killed in battle. He knew that his sister, a tiny bluebird would not be able to stop Laleeq on her own.

Tirith, observing the entire incident, decided on her own course of action. She knew she could not fight Laleeq in the skies, so she decided to wait for her in the High Tower. She flew in unobserved through the window, and hid in a corner.

Knowing she had not a minute to lose, Laleeq made straight for the High Tower. The vultures swooped down upon her, tearing one of her wings, pecking at her flesh with their cruel beaks. The sun was slowly setting in the Haddezan sky and Laleeq began Changing. Her body felt like lead, and the strange sensations that occured each time she changed form began flowing through her body. She had almost reached the tower window, but her wounds were slowing her down considerably, as was her changing body. If she was even a few precious seconds too late, she would plunge straight down to her death from the sky! Using every bit of strength in her uninjured wing, every ounce of speed, Laleeq headed to the tower window. Just as her body started changing, she reached the window sill. Valias grabbed the strange creature as she was falling, and pulled her into the room – a beautiful young woman, with wings in place of her arms, hurt and bleeding profusely. The Phoenix's feather wafted gently into the room, but Valias was more concerned about the injured young woman.

Just as Laleeq had completely taken her human form, the door to the High Tower burst open and Afritha stood in the doorway, breathing hard and furious, Ravonn right behind her!

### ON THE BATTLEFIELD

The sun was low on the horizon, but the battle was still raging fiercely on the Field of Zartek.

Covered in blood and sweat and mud, Roghaar and Sheronas were valiantly killing as many Gorgoths as came their way. The WoodFae, violent and ferocious, fought bravely on. The Mashee knew they would change back to humans very soon. They were giving the battle their all in the short time they had left.

Zaeve was fighting like a mad man, his thoughts full of the devastation that Afritha had wreaked - in his heart, in his home, in his land! He gained almost superhuman strength from his anger. He made straight for a large group of Gorgoths and dove into them sword in hand! "This is for Raisya" he shouted, slicing a Gorgoth! "This for Vhari, and this for Bayrod! And now, one for my King! And this one for Simarrah!" so saying, he drove his sword into as many ugly monsters as possible. Adrenalin pumping furiously through his veins, Zaeve did not even realise when a Gorgoth dagger plunged deep into his back.

Very soon Zaeve felt his strength ebbing along with his blood. The battlefield swam before his eyes as he fell to the ground. His thoughts were slow and heavy, gently cocooned in layers of thick fog. He tried very hard to focus on Raisya's beautiful face, but the more he tried, the more her face eluded him, and soon it seemed to be moving farther and farther away... He was fast losing consciousness when he felt himself being lifted smoothly on to a horse's back. The graceful chestnut mare galloped away from the battlefield to a quiet spot among a thicket of trees. Gently setting Zaeve down, the Mashee began her Change. Standing in front of the badly wounded Zaeve, Marzhaan shook off her animal avatar, and without losing any time, started tending to Zaeve's wound.

And there, in a corner of the bloody battlefield, in the midst of heinous war, amidst terrifying death and destruction, surrounded by broken bodies and gore, blood pouring from his wound, Zaeve found peace and a reason to live!

### JADUVAN

Yahnni did not know whether to be terrified or relieved to see old Firdoz in the Cavern of Dark Deceptions! But he was certainly thoroughly confused!

"Firdoz? You? What does this mean?" he asked.

"Look carefully my young friend" said the old man. "I am Firdoz, and yet I am Jaduvan as well. I am one half of the complete man. The powerful half! The invincible half!

Let me tell you my tale while we wait for the moons to align, and I can freely roam the AboveLands once more.

Long after the Great Making, once I learned magic and embraced the true power of Darkness, I wanted nothing less than to be the greatest Magician in all the worlds. For years I performed every magic ritual, observed every black worship until Ahrimn answered my plea - but with one condition. I had to completely drive out every last bit of goodness from within me in order to fully harness the potent powers of Darkness! So old Firdoz had to go! That goody two shoes was holding me back! With his silly fear of the Dark Power, with his love for Ahur, with his longing to 'help' others!

Well, with my complete co-operation - I was always more powerful than fuddy-duddy Firdoz, Ahrimn magicked Firdoz out of me, and now the silly old fool roams the worlds trying to find a way to destroy me.

After I captured the Phoneix, Ahur imprisoned me in this cave - bound me with chains of Jarasim! My magic is as strong as ever, but what use have I for it in this wretched underground world. Oh how I long to break free - to roam the AboveLands as I please, to breathe the early morning air, to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to see the stars shimmering like diamonds in the dark night sky."

"Ah Yahnni, tonight is my time! When the moons align, this Jarasim will be powerless and I shall break free of my bonds! And then I shall be unstoppable! Soon I shall rule all the worlds with Afritha by my side! Does Firdoz really believe you can stop me?"

### CASTLE RITH AFRA

'Thank Ahrimn for Ravonn and his vigilance' thought Afritha, as she raced back to the High Tower - just in time to witness a very strange sight indeed! There was Vhari trying to revive a badly wounded Laleeq, while another strange woman was doing her best to suffocate her! Jubal too had joined the fray, and was trying to throttle Laleeq with his weirdly powerful little hands.

Afritha knew she had to kill Laleeq immediately, before she could tell Vhari about the prophecy. Afritha was still not sure whether Vhari was aware of the entire situation, but she was not going to chance it!

Uttering a powerful spell, without a thought to poor Jubal or the other woman trying to help her, she unleashed the fury of blazing fire from the tips of her outstretched fingers! The fiery bolts headed straight for Laleeq, and for the unfortunate Jubal and Tirith as well, burning them all alive in searing agony! Laleeq's convulsing, blistering body was sharply outlined in the fire, and after what seemed an excruciating eternity, it was all over. All that remained of the lovely, loyal Mashee was a handful of ash!

Another knife twisted in Valias' heart! Another soul who had sacrificed her life for him! His hatred for Afritha burned brighter than the fire she had unleashed. But he knew he had to be smart to destroy Afritha. He had seen first hand the enormous power of her profane magic.

Ravonn had followed his mistress into the High Tower. He had made it in the nick of time, before his Change brought him back to his human form. He now looked on in utter shock as Afritha callously burned his beloved sister, even though she had been trying to help the witch! Afritha had sent Jubal her loyal familiar to a blistering death as well, without even a thought or tear. Ravonn was appalled by the horrible fate suffered by his sister and Laleeq, who had been his childhood friend. With some last little nugget of good left in his heart, he uttered a simple prayer for their souls. Immediately, Afritha turned towards him, anger and fury blazing in her eyes! "You fool" she shrieked! "You stupid weak miserable traitor! Crying for my enemy! Do you think I can ever trust you? Once a traitor, always a traitor!" And with a flick of her wrist, she sent a fiery dart straight into his heart! Ravonn fell, a look of complete shock on his face.

While this was going on, Vhari very casually covered the feather which had fallen from Laleeq's hand with his foot. But Afritha's eagle eye noted his move, and she immediately pushed his foot away.

"Aha my little Vhari, so you are not as silly as you look!" she said.

Vhari abandoned all pretense. He looked her straight in the eye; "Prince Valias to you, Afritha!" he said.

"You fool!" Afritha spat out, "do you honestly think you can stop me from fulfilling my destiny tonight?"

"I too have a tryst with destiny tonight" answered Valias, "and I mean to keep it."

Valias lunged for the Khanzaar, and immediately, Afritha was on him, fighting him tooth and claw for the deadly plume. She dared not kill Valias yet \- that would destroy her attempt at immortality. Her magic had no power over the Khanzaar, so she had to rely on brute strength and viciousness to destroy the only dagger that could kill her. But she was not worried - she had plenty of viciousness and plenty of brute strength.

Thus began a tussle that went on and on and on......

While the two enemies were fighting each other tooth and nail, the glorious moons of Haddeza were slowly waltzing towards each other!

### ON THE BATTLEFIELD

Roghaar realised their troops were exhausted. The new supply of Vudrals that Afritha had magicked wreaked havoc on the allies who had been fighting since sunrise! But Roghaar also knew that they would have to keep on fighting until this fateful Night of the Moons declared the winner. If Afritha won, they would all be dead and destroyed! However, if by chance Vhari succeeded, sweet victory could be theirs even on the battlefield! He doubted Afritha's armies would have much power after her death.

But whatever the outcome, the allies had lost hundreds of their brave comrades, and would possibly lose hundreds more.

Roghaar looked up at the sky. The six shimmery moons were slowly floating towards each other in the dark Haddezan sky!

### BOOK 3

### TIME OF THE MOONS...

Slowly and gracefully, the sixth pale silver moon joined her five sisters in the black velvet sky over Haddeza. The next six minutes would decide the fate of all the worlds!

### JADUVAN AND YAHNNI

Although Yahnni was in the Cavern of Dark Deceptions, deep in the belly of the worlds, he felt a shift in the air... a strange sensation, as if all time was suspended.... He knew the Time of the Moons had come. Jaduvan felt it as well, and with a smile of utter joy, began to break apart the magical Jarasim chains that bound him to the cave. Yahnni immediately tried to halt Jaduvan's hand, but the old magician merely laughed and shook him off! Over and over, Yahnni tussled with Jaduvan, until shaking with fearsome rage, the old man uttered a powerful spell that flung Yahnni over to the far wall of the cave as easily as one would flick a tiresome mosquito. Strong invisible hands emerged from the wall and held him captive. He could not move at all.

Yahnni prayed fervently for strength. Then he remembered Firdoz's words, "I will be there to face Jaduvan", and tightly clutching his amulet, he passionately invoked Firdoz to come to his aid. Suddenly he felt a strange sensation in his body, in his very being – a strange presence, a strange essence! 'O Ahur, what now?' he wondered. And then he was just a helpless empty vessel as this new presence took over.....

"Halt Jaduvan! Before I destroy you utterly" Yahnni was shocked to hear Firdoz's voice coming out of his own mouth!

"Ha ha ha! So you have come, Firdoz" laughed Jaduvan. "Do you really think you can stop me, you useless fool? I am pure Magick - you are just a half baked lunatic!"

Spectacular sparks of sorcery lit up the cave as Jaduvan and Firdoz hurtled magic spells at each other. Strange objects dashed around the cavern, weird shrieks sounded from dark corners. Grotesquely disembodied heads appeared out of nowhere, their mouths distorted in hideous grins. Malignant evil pervaded the Cavern. Even the shadows, perpetually slithering around, kept to the far ends of the cave in fear! The two sorcerers went on and on, each doing his very best to destroy the other. Yahnni was almost unconscious with the force of Firdoz's magic passing through his body! However, Firdoz was fast losing ground and Jaduvan had five of the six chains off of him by now. There was no more time to lose.

Then in the dimly lit Cavern of Dark Deceptions, a glowing white mist flowed out from between Yahnni's lips, and Yahnni felt a jolt run through his body as Firdoz left it. For a brief fraction of an instant there were two sorcerers in the room – two identical old men, two parts of the same whole. With a long drawn sigh, Firdoz entered Jaduvan's body! As Jaduvan realised what Firdoz was doing, his face contorted with shock, fury, and then helplessness. Jaduvan's body shuddered and convulsed as the other part of him entered and took its rightful place. A change came over Jaduvan's features. The old sorcerer looked somehow less powerful, less frightening, less evil!

Yahnni felt himself come alive as if from a deep stupor. He was stunned to realise that Firdoz had sacrificed his own freedom to stop Jaduvan's evil from running amok in the worlds.

"Firdoz, you are now imprisoned in this cavern forever", said Yahnni. "What have you done?"

"My young friend, go home! This is my destiny, and as long as I too am a part of Jaduvan, we will spend all eternity fighting each other! Too busy to wreak much havoc in the worlds! As long as I am here, our magic can never be very powerful, never be malignant. This is where I belong until the end of all time."

Tears streaming down his face Yahnni looked back one last time at the old man who had come to mean so much to him, and walked out of the cave.

Out on the mound, Poppadom too had felt the change in the atmosphere. As the six moons settled in a line, her magic became more fuzzy, more unfocussed. She was terrified lest her Spell fail, and trap Yahnni forever in the belly of the worlds. Using every last drop of concentration she could muster, she held on... At times, she felt the tunnel waver and shimmer in the night air, and she was sure it would cave in. But love is the most powerful magic of all, and although Poppadom's Spell became weak, her heart never lost its resolve, and somehow she managed to hold on – praying that Yahnni would hurry on out before she could hold on no more....

Thankfully, Yahnni soon stumbled out from the tunnel, a dazed look on his face. With a huge sigh of relief, Poppadom let go of her Spell, and the tunnel caved in and disappeared forever – swallowed up into the earth. Putting her arms around Yahnni's shoulders, she gently led him back the way they had come.

### VALIAS AND AFRITHA

DESTINY PREVAILS

As the six pale moons of Haddeza settled in a softly glowing chain, the very air in the High Tower of Rith Afra wavered and shimmered. Afritha, an ugly coiled dagger in hand, and an uglier smile on her face came at Valias. "It is time", she cackled. "This is where you meet your end, my Prince. And this is where I become immortal!

See this special dagger made just for this auspicious moment? Ahrimn's very face with his three horns is carved on the hilt which is made from the horn of Zartos's unicorn. The unicorn that I slew when I attacked Faerie and killed your father! And the blade? The blade is twisted with deliciously sharp little spikes on each coil so it will hack through your ribs with exquisite torture until it rips out your heart. The tender heart of the Prince of Faerie! Come to me my lovely prince - come, become my eternity!"

Valias lunged for the Phoenix's feather, which lay just a few inches away from him, but Afritha was quicker! She kicked it further away, and flew almost on top of Valias, dagger ready to strike. He fought with every ounce of strength, but she was within close reach of his heart!

Just then, Ravonn - the dying traitor Ravonn, with the final burst of life left in him, grabbed the feather and throwing it at Valias, placed himself between the Faerie Prince and the witch! As Afritha's knife sliced through his chest, Ravonn turned to Valias. "Forgive me, my Prince. Please tell my King I am truly sorry." And with his heroic death Ravonn the traitor redeemed his treacherous life!

In an instant Valias picked up the magic Khanzaar, ready to strike at Afritha's black heart. He knew he had to act immediately, for once the fateful six minutes had passed, Afritha would regain her magic powers, and even if not immortal, would continue her rule of terror over all the worlds. Her cruelty would reign even more horrific and dreadful as she wreaked awful vengeance on all the realms for daring to march against her!

Afritha impatiently pulled out the wicked dagger from Ravonn's chest and came at Valias again, intent on success. This time, Valias did not waver. He paid no attention to the dagger so very close to his heart. With cold fury he kept his mind on the task at hand. If she stabbed him, so be it. He would not die until he had killed her as well! He thought of all who had given up their lives for him; he also thought of Zaeve, Roghaar, Yahnni, his Simarrahn friends, and all the strangers who even now were fighting for him. Eyes closed, focusing with his mind and heart, Valias invoked the great Ahur, and struck Afritha with all his strength! The Khanzaar went straight into her evil, ugly heart and Afritha's eyes widened in shock when she realised what had happened! She shrieked an unholy shriek of pure rage! A piercing sinfully profane shriek that shattered all the glass in the High Tower, and floated out over all the worlds! Then her eyes glazed over, and her lifeblood oozed out of her heart - black, thick, and foul! Her skin split open and thousands of disgusting maggots poured out, running helter-skelter in the High Tower. Valias gazed at the sight with horror! He could not believe this was the woman he had found so enchanting just a few days ago.

In a short while the air became still once again, and Valias took a deep breath and thanked Ahur. Valias had successfully fulfilled his destiny. Afritha's reign of terror was finally over!

### ON THE BATTLEFIELD

Roghaar felt it. Sheronas felt it. King Shams, now in his human avatar felt it. Keera, leader of the WoodFae army felt it. As did all the warriors in the Field of Zartek. A change had come about in the air! The six silvery moons of Haddeza were now perfectly aligned in the dark night sky, and everybody wondered what this magical moment would bring.

The Gorgoths, Vudrals and Krilrexes were completely unconcerned, and kept up their vicious attack. The armies of Isfandar, Sar-El-Mash and Rhinlandia were exhausted and rapidly losing ground.

Sheronas was getting weaker and weaker as blood oozed out of a huge gaping wound in her thigh. Roghaar was extremely tired as he stood next to her, and fought hard to hold at bay a fresh group of Gorgoths closing in on them.

Then it happened! The battlefield of Zartek echoed with Afritha's foul death shriek!

That very same instant, the earth beneath their feet shook with ferocious vilolence. It seemed as if the very bowels of the earth would open up, and its entrails spill out. The ground split open with a thunderous roar, as the mighty Golden Phoenix awakened from his stupor the instant his feather pierced Afritha's black heart, erupted from the deep with a loud screech, and soared, tail blazing across the battlefield!

His fiery tail swooped over and over again across the Field of Zartek, setting ablaze every unholy creature there! Sending them all back to the bowels of Ahrimn's Inferno! Back from where Afritha had summoned them. Then as quickly as he had appeared, the Phoenix was gone!

The six silvery pale moons of Haddeza slowly and gracefully floated apart, completely unconcerned about the lives of mere mortals.

The war with Afritha's forces of evil was finally over! Victory was bitter-sweet as the warriors gathered their wounded and bade farewell to their fallen comrades-in-arms.

The armies of the allies disbanded, and made their way home.

### BOOK 4

### PEACE!

### BACK IN SIMARRAH

There was much rejoicing in Simarrah.

With great pleasure Roghaar and Zaeve removed the cowardly traitor Mordross now quivering with fear, from the throne, and returned it to King Shoarib.

With Afritha's destruction, Ranbol and the other priests returned to their normal, decent selves, and were horrified by what they had done. Ranbol retired as High Priest to spend his old age at home with his family, realising only then how much more difficult it was dealing with his six daughters than with Temple duties! Yahnni took over as Head Priest of the Temple of the Faithful, which was renamed the Temple of Ahur. The sweet fragrances of sandalwood and jasmine perfumed the temple with peace, beauty, joy, and tranquility. All traces of the evil Ahrimn were completely erased as the good people of Simarrah joined Yahnni in a Cleansing Ritual.

Valias was reunited with Quinran and his Simarrahn family.

At first, Quinran did not quite know how she should treat her son now he was Prince Valias. "Do I have to bow before him? Oh dear, do I have to call him Your Majesty? What should I do?" she fretted.

"Prince Valias, ha! I am not going to treat Vhari like some big shot" grumbled her daughter, although she too was eagerly waiting for her big brother to return.

Quinran's world had withered this past year. In a single day, she lost both her beloved husband, as well as the son she adored. On top of that had come the realisation that Vhari was not her own child, but a Faerie! And that too the Prince of Faerie! 'Do I love him any less because I did not give birth to him?' she asked herself. 'Absolutely not!' Her heart replied instantly. And then Quinran cried for the Faerie Queen who had lost her baby the very day he was born! "I have given him all the love you would have" she silently tried to comfort Huvoni. "He grew up knowing only love and joy. I hope that wherever you are, you are aware of that. And now he is lost to me as well", her tears just would not stop.

Quinran longed to see Vhari's smiling face again, longed to hug him, argue with him about his clothes, his chores, his silly pranks... How she wished the last year had never been, and they could all be a family together once again.

Quinran spent most of her time by the window, looking out into the street, hoping to see Vhari running home - way past his curfew, thinking up some ridiculous excuse along the way. Wherever she went, her eyes were watchful, hopeful, as she peered into every young man's face, hoping to see her son's.

She stopped paying attention to their home or to her daily chores. Her daughter, scared to lose her mother as well, took care of her and kept her and their home as comfortable as possible.

Quinran spent her days tending to the rose vine that bloomed outside her window. When Vhari was ten years old, he brought home a beautiful bright yellow rose for her. With a big smile he gave it to his mother, "Ma, see what I got you! I had to go deep into the heart of the forest and fight off a scary hairy monster just to get this rose for you. He was huge and had three arms and two heads and a slobbering mouth, and wanted the rose for his mother, but I wanted it for you so much that I grabbed it from him and ran all the way home with him chasing after me!"

Quinran hugged her imaginative son, and carefully planted the rose in a special spot right by the front door. A few minutes later, old lady Roxa came huffing and puffing, and sputtering with anger. "Your son is a thief!" she yelled. "He crawled under my fence, and took my prize rose – the one I was going to enter in the Garden Fete this year. Ah! There it is!" And she pulled it out and huffed and puffed all the way back home.

Naturally Vhari was suitably punished, much to his little sister's delight. To Quinran's astonishment, once he was allowed out again, he brought home another rose for her - this one in delicate shades of pink! Before accepting it from him, Quinran checked with all her neighbours to make sure Vhari had not stolen it from their gardens. Finally, when it seemed that Vhari had indeed plucked it from the woods, Quinran planted it under her window, and lovingly tended to it. Very soon, thick vines of beautiful fragrant pink roses climbed up and around Quinran's window.

The day Vhari was taken by Lord Dreath, something strange occurred... Quinran, sitting by her window, mind and heart numbed by the shock of her immense loss, noticed that the roses had lost all their colour, and were now a faded white.

"Even the flowers are wretched with grief" she sobbed loudly. "My baby, my Vhari, when will you come home?"

Two days later, when they buried Bayrod, Quinran lovingly placed a single faded rose on his grave. From then on, it seemed as if the rose vine was the only thing that helped Quinran through her days. She watered it, talked to it, sang to it – gave it all the love she would have given Vhari had he been there.

And then a few days ago, Quinran's daughter had run excitedly to her bedroom. "You have to see this, mother" she squealed. "It is a miracle! Come quick!"

She led Quinran to the window, and pointed to the roses on the vine. They were all beautifully pink and blooming in profusion once again. And Quinran knew immediately that her Vhari was well, and that she would be seeing him soon.

Now, mother and daughter eagerly - although with slight apprehension, awaited the arrival of the Prince.

But the moment Valias came home, he gave them both a big sloppy hug, and asked Quinran for her special goat cheese and herb bread. "I am famished" he announced. "Do you know how hungry an adventure can make you?" And Quinran knew that prince or no prince, her Vhari was back, and loved her just as much. Quinran's happiness knew no bounds!

Soon after, Valias made his way next door to Akelis' home. He hugged Akelis' old parents and Sreeka, tears of grief flowing freely down their faces. "Your son died a hero's death", said Valias, trying to console the grieving family.

"We are very proud of him. And we know how much he loved you" quietly added Akelis' father. "I pray we join him soon."

"Akelis will live again in his child" a pregnant Sreeka murmured through her tears.

The two little families planted two beautiful trees in the courtyard of the Temple of Ahur in honour of their loved ones.

### CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES

Exactly one month later, King Shoarib held a Festival of Gratitude for all the the allies. The shores of Simarrah looked awesome as magnificent ships from Isfandar and Rhinlandia and Sar-El-Mash and even Kardis sailed into the harbour. The guests arrived dressed in ceremonial finery, much to the delight of the Simarrahns who had gathered to witness the grand spectacle.

From the woodlands of Isfander, King Gatimi brought Keera the commander of the fairies, and Krogh the leader of the trolls. The Simarrahns had never seen the Fae before - except for their very own Vhari of course, and gaped wide-eyed at the fairies and elves and brownies and sprites and trolls - especially the scary-looking trolls, as they marched in from their ship.

Sheronas, Shronos, and Keros led their Rhinary warriors ashore - silk standards proudly displayed. Dressed in ceremonial armour, with their dark bronze skin, light eyes, and golden hair, the Rhinary warriors looked simply magnificent and awe inspiring!

From the desertland of Sar-El-Mash, the Mashee arrived, well groomed and dangerous-looking. The Simarrahns were fascinated in a scared sort of way to see the majestic Lion King leading a group of leopards, wolves, tigers, horses, hawks, and other fierce animals! Simarrahn children hid behind their mothers' skirts, or sat safely on their fathers' shoulders as they peeked at these fear-inspiring visitors.

Old Jabob from Kardis, accompanied by Ronker and the Lady Pariy - who could barely contain her excitement at the thought of meeting her Prince, had brought Xerkis and his companions with them. Ronker very graciously proclaimed them 'free' men as a gesture of friendship and respect.

The day of the Festival dawned bright and sunny. Young Simarrahn boys ran through the town handing out banners and flags to everybody, compliments of the royal palace.

Goodbuns the Baker and his wife had stayed up all night making special cakes oozing with jelly, and gooey sugary pastries for the event. The good people of Simarrah lined the streets, handing out sweets and wine and funny hats and streamers to those on their way to the palace grounds.

The Royal Palace was decorated to the hilt. Every tree was strung with garlands of purple and silver rosettes. Colourful streamers fluttered from every pillar, banners flew bright and beautiful from every tower, and silk standards lined the long, graceful ramparts.

In the centre of the courtyard the purple and silver flag of Simarrah stood gloriously to attention. On either side, the flags of the attending realms fluttered proudly in the breeze. On the right, the silvery flag of Isfandar with a golden crescent in the centre; on the left, the beige, light blue and gold colours of Sar-El-Mash! Rhinlandia's flag looked magnificent - a gold sword and shield on a field of red, while Kardis proudly hoisted its standard - a silver anvil on a bronze field.

And best of all, Mistress Bigunn, Simarrah's finest seamstress had sewn a very special flag with silver and red hearts entwined on a field of dark grey to honour Gham-Zhi and Lhing-Kin.

The Festival of Gratitude was absolutely splendid! King Shoarib, with a beautiful and radiant Bansi by his side thanked the allies with heartfelt gratitude. Queen Bansi gifted each of their leaders with a bejewelled sash on which was sewn a sparkling gold Key to the Kingdom of Simarrah.

Zaeve, Roghaar, Yahnni, Xerkis, Kyroz, along with the other Simarrahn heroes were accorded special honours by a proud and grateful King Shoarib, while Queen Bansi placed a beautiful necklace set with rare pink diamonds around Poppadom's graceful slender neck. Poppadom had finally mastered her magic and was no longer a chubby, gawky teenager. The ugly duckling was now a gorgeous swan!

Then everybody stood silent for a minute - which may as well be an eternity for the Simarrahns who find it almost impossible to ever be completely silent, in honour of the noble heroes who had fallen in battle.

DragonMaster InogiYong who had braved the journey to Simarrah was watching the ceremony from high up in the clouds. He tipped his magnificent wing in salute to the memory of his two favourite pupils - Gham-Zhi and Lhing-Kin, who had died honourable deaths fighting for an honourable cause. They had used the skills he had taught them to fight Ahrimn, instead of fighting over the Khanship of Lara Kon. Tears of pride glistening in his eyes, InogiYong turned around and flew the skies back to Lara Kon.

And finally in came Valias! Gorgeously resplendant in white and gold, he looked every inch the King of Faerie! A hush came over the crowd. How much their Vhari had changed!

King Shoarib and Queen Bansi came and bowed low before the new King of Faerie, the one appointed by Ahur to rule over all the realms. Valias very gently raised his King and Queen and giving them a dimpled smile, said "To me, you will always be my King and Queen, and I am forever your very loyal subject. And I hope you keep sending me gifts on my birthday!" he grinned.

Then Lady Pariy stepped forward, and with tears in her eyes she embraced Valias. "You have done your parents proud" she murmured smiling through her tears. "You have indeed fulfilled your destiny, King Valias!"

Turning around to face the gathered crowd, Valias raised one fist to the sky, and shouted "To King Shoarib, long may he reign!" The crowd echoed his cry over and over again! Then bowing low before the adoring, screaming throng, he took his place next to his friends. Valias' sister stepped forward and placed the Royal Flag of Faerie - a Golden Phoenix rising on a background of pure white silk, above all the other flags.

At this point, Mr. Middash the pompous Town Counter remarked loudly so everybody could hear, how he had been the first one to recognise something 'special' in Vhari, and had offered him a job!

Once King Shoarib had thanked all his subjects, Zaeve brought out his lute, and he and Marzhaan sang a special song he had composed for this very day! Everybody clapped and joined in, and then waited for the feasting to begin!

LOVE IS IN THE AIR

That night saw another happy occasion. Both Zaeve and Roghaar were getting married to their own true loves.

King Shoarib performed the beautiful wedding ceremony under the Silver Willow Wedding Tree. Zaeve's parents had been married under this same tree, and so had Roghaar's. The willow glowed soft and silvery-white over the two happy young couples as they exchanged their vows under its bountiful branches.

Yahnni invoked Ahur's blessings on them all.

After the ceremony was over, Roghaar stepped forward, and knelt down before his king. "Your Majesty! I beg of you a special favour."

"Speak my son. Ask me anything! I am so very grateful to you for your loyal service, my brave young guardsman."

"Your Majesty, I beg permission to settle in Rhinlandia with my bride. You see, Lord Markhone died last week, and Lady Sheronas is needed by her people."

"Of course you must go with Lady Sheronas" piped up Queen Bansi. "Of course you must!"

King Shoarib gave them his blessings as well.

Sheronas and Roghaar bowed low, "My King, I swear to you that should Simarrah ever need an army, ever need any protection, Sheronas and I pledge the support of Rhinlandia's warriors", said Roghaar.

Marzhaan had decided to stay on in Simarrah with her beloved Zaeve. The Simarrahns were thrilled to see him happy and smiling once again!

Poppadom was not a happy young lady at all. For weeks she had dreamed of seeing Yahnni again, especially now that she was the most beautiful girl in all Simarrah. Yahnni would be so amazed and love-struck when he set eyes on her! She took extra care to make sure she looked absolutely perfect for the Festival of Gratitude.

Dressed in a stunning sky-blue gown to match her beautiful long lashed blue eyes, her auburn hair styled in loose curls flowing down her back, she looked like a lovely fairy princess. She clasped a shimmery belt around her new slim waist, slipped on the daintiest sandals on her perfectly proportioned feet, and with a big happy smile entered the palace grounds, her eyes shyly seeking Yahnni. But much to her disappointment, Yahnni gave her a polite smile and then avoided her for the rest of the ceremony. He did not dance with her even once during the celebrations that followed, although every other young man in Simarrah lined up to be her partner.

During the romantic wedding ceremony, Poppadom looked around very hopefully for Yahnni who studiously kept his distance.

Poppadom felt extremely teary and unhappy.

After the wedding ceremony, gathering up her courage, she made her way towards Yahnni.

"Yahnni, is something the matter?" she asked him. "I thought you would be pleased to see me, but instead you have avoided me all day. What is wrong? I thought you liked me!" Here Poppadom's courage failed her, and bursting into sobs, she ran into the garden.

"Don't cry Poppadom, please don't!" Yahnni followed her outside. "Of course I wanted to see you again, and dance with you and laugh with you and relive our adventure with you. But I did not even recognise you at first. You have changed so much... You do not in any way resemble the Poppadom I fell in love with....!"

"F..f..fell in love with?" asked Poppadom incredulously through her tears.

"Of course you silly girl! I have been thinking of you all this time, and longing to see you again, but this is just not you! You look nothing like my Poppadom!"

"You mean you prefer me fat and weird and ugly?" Poppadom just could not believe her ears!

"Poppadom, you were never fat and ugly and weird to me. I always saw you as beautiful and real and so very adorable."

"Well then, turn around for a moment, will you Yahnni?" Poppadom smiled through her tears. And when Yahnni turned back to face her, Poppadom Schmuckle appeared in front of his eyes in all her frizzy, freckled, frumpy glory!

The two fell into each others' arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

### EPILOGUE

A year had passed since the Epic War - a year of happiness and peace and prosperity for all of Simarrah.

Early this morning at the break of dawn, six young men stood at the foot of the Mount of the Sun, their faces sombre.

Last night Valias, Zaeve, Kyroz, Xerkis, Roghaar, and Yahnni, had met up in the Seven Seas Alehouse where they had stayed until well past midnight. Valias had invited them all to bid them farewell. He had spent the last year with his family and friends in Simarrah, but he realised that his heart and his future lay elsewhere. The hardest part had been taking leave of Quinran who was broken hearted at the thought of living without her lovely boy.

"I have to go to the Gathering Fields where Faerie has gathered" he said to his sobbing mother and sister.

"But my son, there is no coming back to the world of humans from the Gathering Fields. Not ever!" cried Quinran.

Valias then told them about Mhirrin and the emptiness in his heart and life without her. He told them how he longed to meet his Faerie parents who had been forced to send him away, and had died protecting his hiding place.

He told them how much he loved them, his Simarrahn father, mother and sister, how they would always be his beloved family, and that would never ever change.

Quinran spent every moment she could with her beloved son, dreading the moment of his departure.

Last night at the tavern, the good people of Simarrah along with the six friends spent their final evening together. Final tales were told, final laughs laughed, final glasses of ale emptied, and final songs sung. Then the townsfolk with tears in their eyes, bade farewell to their beloved Vhari.

The early dawn was cool and clear. It heralded a gorgeous day ahead. But none of the six young men who met at the Mount of the Sun would remember it thus.

At the foot of the Mount, Valias hugged his five best friends fiercely! Then without looking back, he climbed the mountain, higher and higher, directly into the rays of the rising sun. With an arm raised in salute to his friends, he walked straight into the warmth of the welcoming Sun, and vanished from their sight! Forever....

But the goodbyes this day were not yet done.

Yahnni turned to the other four, "Poppadom and I are leaving Simarrah as well", he told them. "I have to go back to the Cavern of Dark Deceptions to try and help Firdoz. I do not know what I can do for him, but I have to try." With a forced smile on his face, eyes brimming with tears, he turned around and kept walking on the cobbled highroad where Poppadom was waiting for him, and out of Simarrah.

Zaeve, Kyroz, Xerkis, and Roghaar were inconsolable. This day they had lost two of their closest friends, their companions through the adventure in Haddeza. But they would always have the memories; always feel their beloved Vhari beside them - laughing, teasing, and urging them on to better things.

Turning back, Zaeve made his way home to his beloved Marzhaan, while Roghaar headed for the shore, back to Rhinlandia and Sheronas.

Kyroz and Xerkis sat on a rock, watching the golden rays of the sun embrace the fresh green slopes of the hill, and then slowly spread their warm blessing over the beautiful kingdom of Simarrah.

THE END.
