 
### A Song of Snow and Ashes

By S. J. Drew

Text and Cover Art Copyright S. J. Drew 2011

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Eliora's pen scratched across the coarse paper almost automatically as she half-listened to the spirited debate on the prices of spices coming in on the desert caravans. She was a young woman in her early twenties with waist-length glossy black hair bound up in a complicated braid, dark brown eyes, and a dark complexion. As the voices of the Councilors droned on, her mind started to wander.

She found herself standing out in the middle of the open, deep desert. There was no wind, no sound, and no one else. "Hello?" she called out. There was no answer from the empty dunes. The hot sun beat down on her beige robes. "What's going on? How did I get out here?" she thought. She looked around again. "Where am I? How do I get home?" She sat down. Sand skittered down the tall hill. She took a deep breath and told herself not to panic. She looked around yet again, but there was nothing except open, empty desert as far as the eye could see. After a few moments contemplating her situation, she realized that the sand had not stopped running down the hill. "Oh, no," she whispered, recognizing the signs of an impending sand slide. She scrambled down the hill, and made it to the base when she felt the dune slip. An odd, muffled rumbling filled her ears, causing her to pause. She glanced over her shoulder, swore, and tried to run faster. Within seconds, she was overtaken by the suffocating sand.

"No!" she burst out. Her pen and ink bottle clattered to the floor. She blinked a few times trying to re-orient herself. Suddenly she became aware that she was still in the Council Chamber, and everyone was silent and staring at her. "Sorry. Sorry," she said in a small voice. Her face was flushed with embarrassment as she picked up her papers and pen with trembling hands.

Many of the Councilors shot her contemptuous looks, and then continued with their discussion.

She blotted away the spilled ink and calmed herself. She dutifully recorded the minutes of the meeting, which lasted the remainder of the afternoon.

When the Councilors were finally done, she quickly started to pack her things away. She organized the papers, turned in the minutes to a filing scribe in the Scribe Office, signed out, and walked quickly down the hallway to the front doors.

"Eliora!" The sharp call came from a male voice.

"So close," she sighed, and turned around.

A man in his late thirties, with long black hair, a beard, mustache, dark eyes, and dark skin, hurried up to her. He looked angry. "Councilor Quasim has just been in my office."

"Has he?" she replied, trying to act surprised.

"He said that the scribe assigned to record the Caravan Trade Sub-Committee was daydreaming. And when I say, 'he said,' what I really mean is that he was yelling. Loudly."

"I'm sorry, Izak," she said contritely.

"Now, I know that these committee meetings are not very exciting, and I understand if your mind wanders, but actually interrupting the meeting is inexcusable. You know better than that."

"I'm sorry."

"Eliora, this is not a minor complaint. You can't just burst out in the middle of a meeting," he scolded. "If you don't start paying more attention, I'm afraid you'll have to be formally reprimanded."

"Oh, no, please. I'm really sorry. I can't have a black mark on my record, not now. I won't get promoted. You know how hard I work."

Her supervisor sighed. "Yes, I know you have worked hard to get where you are. But you have to pay attention. This is just one little sub-committee. Imagine if you had fallen asleep during one of the debates on defense or war. I can't have scribes who let their minds wander in high positions."

"I'll do better, Izak," she replied. "I promise. It won't happen again. Just please don't write me up."

"This is your only warning, Eliora. I don't want you to get into trouble. But if there's another transgression, severe or not, I will not hesitate to put that black mark on your record..."

"Yes, sir, absolutely. I'll be completely focused."

"Good. Now, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes. Thank you," she replied, and quickly made her way home.

The Council Hall was located in the heart of the city of Nahaar. The city was capitol of Shrimah, home to well over fifty thousand inhabitants and one of the largest on the desert continent. Blessed with an abundant underground water supply, it had grown to become a trade center. Caravans were constantly moving through on their way to the ports to the west or back into the deserts. Ducking and dodging, she made her way through the bazaar, avoiding aggressive vendors, angry customers, and pickpockets. Roads near the downtown area and along the trade routes were wide enough for caravans and paved, but most roads were much narrower and made of desiccated, hard-packed dirt. After an hour of walking, she turned down a narrow road and stopped in front of a tiny two story house. It was made out of mud-brick and bleached white by the sun. Even though it was technically winter, it was still blazing hot in the late afternoon sun, and she was exhausted by the time she made it home. She entered without knocking and dropped her shoes right inside the door with the other pairs.

The bottom floor of the house was divided into a small kitchen area and a large sitting area. The sitting area had little furniture, only a low table, large cushions, and low stools sitting on a carpeted stone floor. Oil lamps were hung against the wall. The kitchen area had a stove and several shelves to hold food and dishes. The back door opened to the courtyard, a space created and shared by the ring of houses around the block. To the left of the back door was a staircase that led to the sleeping quarters upstairs.

"Hello, Mother," Eliora called.

A forty-something woman was busy in the kitchen, along with a younger woman of about nineteen. They all had dark skin, dark eyes, and black hair bound up in complicated braids, although the older woman's hair had visible streaks of gray. They were also both wearing long robes made out of folds of beige cloth designed to transport heat away from the body. The older woman had a light colored cord woven through her hair, a sign of married status.

"Hello, Eliora. Your father isn't home yet. Come help Meorah."

Eliora dropped her things off in her room and returned to the kitchen to help the younger woman. "Where are the twins?"

"Outside playing," answered Meorah.

"Where's Oriel? Shouldn't she be home by now?"

"She's helping the temple get ready for the ceremony tonight," her mother answered. "It's the solstice, you now."

"Is it? I forgot."

At that point, a man entered the household. He was also wearing flowing beige robes, but the way they sat on his body indicated that he was wearing some sort of armor underneath. A well-used curved sword hung from his belt, clearly on display. He had a long black ponytail wrapped with a light colored woven cord, a sign of his married status. His hair and neatly kept short beard and mustache also bore streaks of gray. "Adiva, I'm home," he called, pulling off his heavy boots and setting them next to the other shoes.

The mother walked up to him and embraced him. "Hello, Lior, my love. You're late."

"I am sorry, beloved, but the Captain put us through a few extra drills to make sure we were prepared for any trouble this evening."

"Who would interrupt a religious ceremony?" asked Meorah.

"I don't know, but it's best to always be prepared," he replied. Then he went upstairs to change clothes.

Adiva returned to the kitchen and soon they finished up dinner. Lior came back downstairs and talked about the security for the ceremony.

"Call your sons and tell them dinner is ready," said Adiva with a smile.

He walked to the open back door. "Tamas, Tomek, come in now, boys."

Identical twins of about sixteen stopped their practice sword fighting and entered the tiny house.

"Shoes!" the mother called.

The boys dropped their shoes and helped get everything ready for the evening meal. Pillows were cleared out of the sitting room, and dinner was served on the low table in the middle of the floor. In a few minutes, a woman who was barely twenty years old entered the house.

"I'm sorry I'm late for dinner," she apologized immediately.

"It's alright, Oriel. Sit down so we won't be late for the ceremony," replied Adiva. "We'll be attending the ceremony on the eastern side, but it's still a long walk."

She immediately did so, and the family started to talk amiably, except for Eliora, who was quiet. Dinner was finished a little abruptly due to the time constraints. The family locked up the house and headed to the outskirts of the city rather than to the main Temple of Light in the center of the city. After about an hour, they joined with a crowd of over three thousand people out in the open desert area just east of the city. A few clerics had taken the high ground and the sun was starting to set. The Head Priestess called for attention, and soon the ceremony started.

Eliora said the words, but was not playing attention. She knew the words by heart, having attending such ceremonies since she was old enough to remember. It was the same every year. The clerics called for praise to the Light One and for blessings as the sunlight started to grow again. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering what the clerics of the Dark One did on this day. It was the longest night of the year, so she was sure they must have some sort of ceremony. She thought they must be up to no good, and turned her mind to the strange daydream she had earlier that day. The ceremony ended with the ritual lighting of candles. It was now fully dark, there was no moon, and it was bitter cold.

When the family returned home, the twins were immediately put to bed while the daughters started to clean up the kitchen. Lior tidied up the sitting area. The winter solstice was considered a day of quiet contemplation, so the older family members stayed up and recounted their blessings, mourned the ones who had been lost, and discussed goals for the coming year. Meorah and Oriel soon went to bed, leaving Eliora and her parents.

"You've been quiet tonight, my daughter," commented Lior.

"You've hardly said a thing about your day, and you weren't paying attention at the ceremony," added Adiva.

"What's wrong? Normally you're so cheerful," he said.

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "I almost got written up today."

"What? Why?" responded Lior immediately.

"I wasn't paying enough attention to the minutes, and I knocked over my ink bottle," she answered.

Adiva's brow furrowed slightly.

"My daughter," her father sighed. "You must stop being so absent-minded. You enjoy the work, and you work so hard when you set your mind to it."

"I'm sorry, Father. Izak scolded me thoroughly. I won't do it again."

"That's good." He yawned.

"You should go to bed, beloved," offered Adiva affectionately. "You've had a long day."

"I have indeed." He kissed his wife gently, and then went upstairs.

"I should go to bed, too, Mother," said Eliora, starting to stand up.

"We talk first," she replied sternly.

Eliora sat back down on the pillows.

"You never could lie to me. What really happened today that's gotten you so upset?"

"Well, I did nearly get written up. And I wasn't paying attention."

The older woman waited patiently.

"I started to daydream. But it was strange. I've never experienced anything like it. It was so intense, so real."

"Tell me."

"I was out in the open desert by myself, but still in my work clothes. I called out, but no one was around. It was so real, Mother. I even sat down and started to think about where I could find water. Then the dune started to shake, and I tried to get away, but as I got to the bottom, I felt the dune slip. The whole mountain of sand just poured down on top of me. I felt like I was suffocating. I cried out. Then I woke up and realized all the Councilors were staring at me."

"Goodness," she replied. "That does sound very odd. I know you have active imagination, but that doesn't sound like a normal dream at all."

"I know. I wish I hadn't reacted to it so badly."

Adiva looked disturbed. "That's what you were thinking about during the ceremony?"

She nodded.

Adiva lowered her voice. "I know I'm not a priestess, but I think you may have received some sort of vision."

"A vision of what?" Eliora asked, keeping her voice low as well.

She shook her head. "I don't know. But having such an intense experience on the solstice, even if it was the winter solstice seems significant. Perhaps you should pray for guidance from the Light One."

"I'm not sure the clerics would take this too well," Eliora replied.

"I don't mean to go the clerics. You are right in that you probably shouldn't mention it to them. In fact, don't even mention this to anyone else. I'll tell your father. But I think going to a temple and praying on your own can't hurt."

"Yes, Mother. But even if the Light One answers, what will that answer mean to me? Its guidance is not always clear."

"Then you talk to me," she answered firmly. "Go to the temple tomorrow after work."

"Tomorrow? You really think this is that significant?"

"Well, my daughter, it never hurts to be sure. Remember to stop by the message office. I'm expecting a letter from your grandparents. Also remember to stop at the bazaar for some more lamp oil."

"I'm going out with Ofira tomorrow night. Can't it wait?"

"Eliora, this is the third time this week I've reminded you to do that. No, it can't wait. Now, off to bed with both of us. It's late, and the last thing you need is to be sleepy tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother," Eliora replied contritely. She went upstairs to her tiny room while her mother locked down the house. She stared up at the ceiling for a long time before she fell asleep.

On the other side of the world, it was a hot summer afternoon in Renfrew. The city-state of fifty thousand was located not too far from the Snowcap Mountains, but it was still stiflingly warm and too humid. A young man in his early twenties emerged from the steamy kitchen of a shabby tavern called the Boar's Head. He had straw blond hair tied back in a ponytail, ice blue eyes, and a light complexion. He was quickly joined by another young man who was a few years older but unmistakably related. His hair was a darker blond, his eyes were a darker blue, he was a bit taller, not quite as wiry, and better looking.

"Are you feelin' alright, little brother?" asked the larger man affectionately. His voice had a lazy drawl.

He was pulling his long-sleeved button-up shirt back and forth in an effort to fan himself. "Sorry, Alain, but I had to get out of that damned kitchen. Days like this I think I'm goin' to die in there. Too much heat and too much steam," answered the younger man, sitting down on one of the empty crates. His voice carried the same accent.

"I know what you mean. It is awful damn hot today. Maybe it'll rain soon. But we've got to finish up the lunch dishes or we're goin' to get in trouble. You know that."

The younger one sighed. "I know that. I hate this job, you know."

"I know, Donnan, I know. But it's the best we can do right now. Come on. It's only a few more, and then we can get lunch."

"We're eatin' out here. It's cooler than in there."

"I guess so." He gently dragged his younger brother inside. When they finished the pile of dishes, Alain got a hunk of bread and some cheese for their lunch. They ate on the crates out back, deliberately hidden from the view of the customers or the street passerby. Then they went back to work.

"It's so hot. Why don't we start with cleanin' the tables out front?" suggested Alain. "We can stay out of the kitchen longer."

The younger man nodded. They got some cleaning rags and went outside to the front of the tavern, where there were a few tables set up for the warm months. They were wiping these off and chatting amiably when Donnan suddenly went silent. Five women of various ages, carrying books in their arms and leather bags over their shoulders, were walking by having an animated conversation. He was staring at a woman in a short-sleeved, ankle-length, simple lavender dress. Her hair was strawberry blond, waist-length and curly, bound in a ponytail. She was about his age, and very pretty. He watched her until she turned a corner and was out of sight.

Alain chuckled softly. "You know you've got no chance with Aolani."

"What?" he replied, startled. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"You've got no chance with her. She's got everythin'. She's beautiful. She's educated. She's the mayor's daughter and a teacher. You've got no chance."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"You're not foolin' me. Every time she walks by you just stare, like a puppy. It's so cute."

"Oh, shut up," Donnan replied crossly. "I'll be she's as stuck up and snotty as the rest of those rich people. I'll bet she doesn't even know taverns have dishwashers, much less ever talk to them."

"Oh, absolutely," agreed Alain amiably. "Which is why you keep starin'."

He glared at his older brother. "How come you're always makin' fun of me?"

"'Cause I can. Now come on. We've got work to do."

"We've always got work to do," Donnan muttered darkly. "Why bother?" They finished outside and started work on the empty common room. He scrubbed down tables while Alain swept the floor.

"We've got to eat."

"Right. That." Donnan looked around and lowered his voice. "Darris doesn't pay us half of what we're worth."

"I know. I'm goin' try to join the guard again in a month."

"Well, that means you can quit this lousy job. And I won't have to help you with sword practice any more."

"Practice is good for you, little brother. Gets you outside. Gets you to work out. Gets you away from those books."

"I like books," Donnan protested.

"If I get into the guard, you can try to get a job workin' at a better place. Maybe you can try to get a job at the school or somethin'."

"That'd be great, but it won't happen. We aren't the right kind of people."

Alain sighed. "The guard can't keep turnin' me down if I can beat their own people."

At that moment a customer entered the tavern, so they ended their conversation. The dinner crowd came and went and the brothers were in the kitchen washing dishes when an overweight, ruddy-faced balding man in his forties joined them.

"Alright, boys, you can go early tonight," he announced cheerfully, but it was clear he wasn't sincere.

They exchanged confused glances.

"Thank you, sir. But why?" asked Alain.

"It's the solstice, of course. The clerics are holding a ceremony at sundown. I wouldn't think of keeping you here."

"Afraid we'll rob the till," thought Donnan.

"However, you'll need to come in an hour early tomorrow. This mess won't clean itself up."

"You're too kind, sir," replied Alain, without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. The two put away their dishrags and aprons, stacked the dishes neatly, left some to soak overnight, and then left the tavern. "Well, wasn't that nice of Darris?"

"He must have finally gotten in trouble from the clerics for keepin' us from services," Donnan answered dryly.

"Maybe. But who cares? This is great. We get the night off."

"You think it's great we have to sit through that borin' ceremony?"

Alain sighed. "It's not that bad. Aolani will be there," he said, his voice teasing.

Donnan punched him in the arm. "You're such a jackass," he replied, but his voice was affectionate rather than insulting. The two walked to their tiny apartment. All the buildings were made of wood, and most were built right next to each other. In the downtown and commercial areas, the paved streets were wide enough to allow carts to easily pass each other. In the wealthier residential areas and older parts of the city, the packed dirt streets narrowed down to the width of one cart. And in the poorest sections, the roads were barely wide enough for a horse, let alone a cart.

The brothers' apartment was about half an hour's walk away from the tavern, and in the poorest section of the town. The one-story, square building took up an entire block, with twice as many dwellings as a block full of houses would allow. Their apartment was one of the tiniest. It had only two rooms, and they had to share the building's communal water room. The water room was in the center of the building, had three wells from which they drew water, and had a partitioned off area for bathing and laundry. They shared the tiny bedroom. The only furniture was a bunk bed. Instead of a proper closet they had a simple bar hung up across one wall. Weapons and boots were simply left under the clothes rack. The other room had a tiny wood-burning stove, barely enough counter space to prepare food or set down a tub for washing dishes, and pantry shelf space on one side. On the other side were a tattered carpet, three mismatched chairs, a worn, low table, and a small wooden crate filled with books. They changed into nicer clothes and walked to the Temple of Light in the center of town.

By the time they got there, the temple proper was already full.

"Great. Standin' room only," muttered Donnan.

"Well, look on the bright side," Alain said cheerfully. "It's cooler out here than in the temple."

He nodded in agreement.

The crown continued to gather until the sun started to set. A bell rang out from the temple, silencing the crowd. The ceremony was performed by two clerics, a priest inside the temple, and a priestess outside. It was about an hour long and involved praises to the Light One and prayers for guidance as the light started to wane. It was completely dark by the time it was finished, but a full moon was staring to rise. A vigorous wind had come up, a sure sign of an approaching storm. The crowd started to break up and filter back through the city streets.

"That was better than washin' dishes," commented Alain, as they passed people busily lighting up the downtown area street lamps.

"It was borin'."

"That too."

They weren't too far away when a group of men hailed them. Alain greeted them warmly. "Hey Donnan, the guys are headin' down to the Wooden Tankard to play some pockets and some cards. Want to come?" Some of Alain's friends looked a little disappointed.

"It's nice to offer, but no thanks," he replied, noticing their looks.

"Suit yourself." He then walked away with the young men, laughing and chatting.

Donnan sighed. "Well, he's going to be fun to deal with in the mornin'," he thought as he started to walk home. The crowd was thinning and he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings when he suddenly heard a female voice cry out in surprise, and he noticed a number of papers blowing toward him.

"Catch them, please," called the same voice.

He crouched down and grabbed them before they blew past him and got trampled.

"Thank you," said the woman, kneeling down next to him.

He caught a whiff of lavender perfume when he looked up and found himself staring to a pair of light brown eyes.

The woman called Aolani took the papers from him. "Thank you so much. The wind came up at just the wrong moment. It would be just awful if I lost my lesson plans."

"No problem," he managed to stutter. Even in his surprised state, he noticed how much better her diction sounded as opposed to his own.

She smiled at him. It lit up her whole face and made her look lovelier. She shoved the papers into the book she was still carrying.

He stood up and offered his hand to her.

She took it, allowed him to help her stand, and then pulled away politely. "Thank you again. I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"No. No bother at all," he replied, looking a bit stunned.

She smiled again with relief. "Well, good night. Happy solstice," she said cheerfully, then turned and walked away.

"Happy solstice," he returned.

She joined a group of three men and two women her age. One of the men shot Donnan a dark look, put his arm around her waist, and they disappeared into the crowd.

He glared at them until they were out of sight, and then sighed. "Beautiful, nice, smart, and no taste in men. She could do better. She deserves better. But I'm just a dishwasher. I can't compete with the son of the Guard Commander," he thought bitterly as he continued his walk home. The wind picked up and the clouds poured in. "I'm not talented enough to be a mage, not strong enough to be a guard, not high enough class to be a cleric, and not rich enough to do anything else."

By the time he reached the apartment, thunder had started to roll. He lit a lamp, closed the storm shutters, and opened a well-worn book on the history of the era of Mage Rule. He read until he dozed off.

He looked around, feeling confused. "How in the world did I get here?" he thought, staring at the landscape. He was on a flat spot on a nearby mountain and above the tree line, surrounded by nothing but rocks and several inches of snow. The wind was picking up and it was bitter cold. His summer clothes were far too thin. "I've got to get home. I'll freeze to death," he thought, shivering and panicked. He had barely started picking his way down the steep slope when he heard a low rumble. He looked up the mountain and saw a sheet of snow hanging treacherously on a cliff not two hundred feet above him. "Oh, darkness." The rumbling continued and he watched as the sheet detached and started to slide quickly toward him. He scrambled downward desperately looking for a cave or an outcropping, anything he could use to shelter himself from the avalanche. With a deafening roar, the force of the snow knocked him over and darkness closed in.

"No!" he yelped, waking up. He looked around, breathing hard. The book had slipped to the floor. Thunder rolled outside and the wind howled at the shutters. When he re-oriented himself, he returned the book to the crate with trembling hands, and then went to bed.

He was awakened a few hours later by a persistent knocking on the door. He groggily headed toward the living room. "Forgot how to use the keys again," he thought irritably. He opened the door and Alain stumbled in, completely drunk and soaking wet.

"You know-you know-youknowit'srainin'. Out. Outside," he mumbled.

"Honestly. You're goin' to catch cold." He tended to his brother, getting him changed and helping him to the lower bed. Soon he heard the reassuring snoring, and allowed himself to go back to sleep.

Eliora woke up the next morning feeling much better. She helped make breakfast, walked the twins to their school, and went to work. To make up for her mistake the day before, she completed all of her assignments on time, and caught up on some transcribing she had been putting off. She was at her tiny desk when she heard a knock at the main office door.

"Come in," she called.

A pretty young woman of about her age entered the office. She was dressed in the same style, but her robes were of a little better quality and she was also wearing a heavy cloak. "Eliora, are you still working?"

"Of course, Ofira. Should I not be?"

"You were supposed to meet me at the conservatory half an hour ago. It's dark out already."

"I'm sorry." She quickly organized the last of the papers.

"Why are you working late anyway?"

"I almost got written up yesterday, so I figured I'd better make up for it."

"Alright. I forgive you for being late. But couldn't you have sent someone around to tell me?" Ofira asked.

"I forgot."

"Again? Well, I can't say I'm surprised. But don't worry about it. Just hurry up. We're already late."

Eliora pulled on her own cloak, picked up her bag, and gently shuffled Ofira out of the office so she could lock up. "There was something else I was supposed to do today."

"Well, what?"

She paused. "I don't remember. I guess it wasn't important anyway. So where are we going tonight?"

"We're meeting at the coffee house across the street from the conservatory."

"Are you buying dinner?" she asked Ofira.

"You were the one who forgot about me."

"Please?"

"Alright. I did just sell some of my pottery last week. Some of the actual art pieces."

"That's great," she exclaimed.

"Basir was asking about you yesterday."

"Really?" Eliora replied excitedly. "What did he say? When did you run into him?"

"During the ceremony, of course. We were both at the one on the west side. We just happened to run into each other."

"Come on, come on, what did he say?"

Ofira smiled smugly. "He wanted to know where and when we were getting together."

She looked disappointed. "But you said he asked about me."

"Well, he wanted to know if you'd be there too."

Eliora cheered up immediately.

"But don't you two just talk about work."

"Work is interesting. I learn so much about politics and trade."

"Yes, I know you think it's interesting." Ofira gave her a sly look. "Zeki will be jealous."

She shrugged. "That's hardly my fault, is it?" she replied coyly.

"You're terrible. You just string these men along."

"I do no such thing! Zeki's my friend. Anyway, if he were serious, he would have spoken to my father by now."

"You do have a point there," Ofira conceded. "But maybe he hasn't done that because he figures you'll reject his courtship offer anyway."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt him to be a little bit bolder."

"You're terrible."

"I see you with a lot of interested young men and no husband either, Ofira."

"This isn't about me," she replied laughingly.

"It is now."

The pair walked out of the business district to the western quarter of the city. Their breath crystallized in the cold night air. After about forty five minutes, they reached one of the artisan sections. Fifteen minutes later, they reached one of the art conservatories, crossed the street and entered a coffee shop. Two young men and two young women were already seated at a large, round table. The pair greeted them warmly and joined the group.

"Coffee, please," said Ofira immediately. "Gods, it's cold out there."

"Eliora, why were you late?" asked one young man immediately. His long hair was back in ponytail, and he had the characteristic short, neatly kept beard and mustache.

"Sorry, everyone. Sorry, Zeki. I had to catch up on some paperwork. You know how it is."

There was a round of sympathetic nods.

At that point, a good-looking young man entered the coffee house. He immediately joined the group. There was a moment of shuffling as the group adjusted themselves and their bags to make room for another chair.

"Hello, everyone." He sat down next to Eliora. "I was hoping I'd see you here."

"Hello, Basir," she returned, not the least bit shy. "Why were you looking for me?"

"I have to go see my cousin next week. I'll be away for five days. I was wondering if you could cover some of my assignments."

She hid her disappointment well. "I'll talk to Izak about it."

"You're the best, Eliora. Thanks."

"I'm always glad to help."

"I'll make it up to you. Say, take you out to dinner when I get back?"

"I say that sounds fine," she replied with a broad smile.

The evening passed as the group talked about their various jobs and played card games and board games.

"Eliora, can I walk you home?" asked Zeki when the group started to break up.

"Sure."

It was late and cold, so most of the streets were deserted. They walked down the main roads when they could, but avoided the bazaar. It never closed, but it catered to very different customers late at night.

"So, why did you agree to help Basir?" Zeki asked casually.

"He's a fellow scribe. It's nice to help out."

"And agree to dinner?"

"You aren't jealous, are you?" she asked.

"What? No, no," he answered hastily. "Just concerned. I don't want him taking advantage of your kindness."

"I appreciate the thought."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I've forgotten something again," she sighed.

"Again? Did you pick up that lamp oil your mother's been asking about all week?" he asked, exasperated.

"That's what it was I forgot. I was supposed to stop by the bazaar after work, but it's too late now."

He smiled slightly. "I thought you might have forgotten again." He opened up his bag and pulled out a bottle. "I picked up an extra bottle when I went to the bazaar yesterday."

She took it gratefully and tucked it into her own bag. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without your help."

"Get in trouble again. You know, you should really write these things down. You are a scribe, after all."

"I know, but I forget to write things down. Besides, paper is very valuable and I don't want to waste it." She paused. "I think there's something else I forgot to do."

"Was there anything else you needed to pick up?" he asked.

"Maybe." She shook her head. "Mother will scold me tonight if it was important. At least I've got the oil. You really are too nice."

Zeki smiled wanly. "I really am."

"I didn't see you at the ceremony last night."

"I didn't go."

"You didn't go?" she repeated, surprised. "You went last year."

"I know. But my family decided to go to the ceremony on the south side, and I really didn't feel like braving the crowds by myself."

"Why did they do that?"

"It was rumored the Matriarch might speak."

"Really? I certainly didn't hear that."

He shrugged. "Mother probably overheard it at the bazaar. You know what a rumor mill that place is."

Eliora nodded in agreement. "You should still come to the ceremonies. It's your duty."

He shrugged again. "You know how I feel about the church."

"That's how Mother feels. I don't really understand it."

"Not everyone is as nice as you are."

She smiled. "Flattery will get you no where."

They talked amiably, but in low voices, until they reached her house.

"Thanks again," she whispered. She kissed him on the cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Eliora, maybe you should think about that."

She paused. "What? You suddenly sound so serious."

"Well, it's time I got married."

She blinked, looking confused. "And?"

"If I get married, I can't help you out so much. I can't keep you out of trouble anymore. I'll have a wife and a new family and new responsibilities. I won't be able to spend long evenings playing games."

"Do your parents have someone in mind?" she asked.

"A couple of women, actually. I'd prefer to marry someone I already know, especially if her family is in good standing. But I can't wait too much longer. My parents really want grandchildren soon."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, Zeki. I didn't realize that."

"Well, now you know. I've been instructed to at least get engaged by the equinox."

"Less than three months?" she replied, startled. "That's so soon."

He nodded. "I thought I'd let you know."

"But you're my best friend. We've known each other since primary school."

"And you were just as scatter-brained then, too."

"That's not nice. I can be very focused."

"When you chose to be."

"Alright, you've got me there," she conceded. "Damn adult responsibilities. I don't want to lose a friend. You will at least introduce me to your future wife, when you find her?"

"Sure. Sure, I'll do that."

She looked relieved. "Good. I'll pay you back for the oil."

"I know you will," he replied, looking a little upset, but his face was mostly hidden in the darkness. "Goodnight, Eliora."

"Goodnight."

She quietly unlocked the door and entered the house. Only one lamp was on, and her mother was reading underneath.

"I got the oil, Mother," she said immediately, and pulled it out.

"Thank goodness." Adiva took the bottle and quickly filled up the lamps. "Did you get the messages?"

"Oh, damn. I knew I forgot something. I'll go first thing in the morning."

"You also forgot to go to temple too, didn't you?"

"So that was the other thing."

"Eliora, daughter of mine, you have got to stop being so flighty."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I was working late to make up for my mistake yesterday, and Ofira came to find me, and it completely slipped my mind."

"But you remembered to go the bazaar? I guess that's something."

She looked a little guilty. "I forgot about the dream. That's why I forgot to go to temple. Don't worry, I'll do tomorrow."

"Just remember to pick up the messages," Adiva sighed. "Honestly. You are so much like your Aunt Akilah. As intelligent as they come, but would forget your own heads if they weren't attached."

"Yes, Mother," she replied meekly.

"But I love you anyway. I'll lock up. You go up to bed."

"Yes, Mother. Goodnight."

"Dammit, Alain, wake up or we'll be late!" Donnan snapped irritably, shaking his brother.

"What? Where am I?" he mumbled, barely coherent.

"You're home. Now get up. I've made breakfast. I don't want to get fired because you had too much to drink last night."

Alain sat up groggily and shook his head a few times. He emerged from the bedroom looking more awake. "Damn, what's with you this mornin'? I'd think you had the hangover."

He sighed. "Sorry. I just had a really bad dream last night, and I haven't shaken it off yet."

He yawned. "You shouldn't let these things get to you. It was just a dream."

"It didn't feel like just a dream. It was really weird."

"You worry too much," the larger man replied amiably.

"I know," he responded, not sounding reassured.

They finished up breakfast in silence and went to work.

The dinner crowd was thinning out at the tavern, and a day's worth of hard work had pretty much driven the strange dream out of Donnan's mind.

"Hey, little brother," said Alain.

"You're going out again, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I'm a popular guy."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," he sighed.

"Thanks."

Donnan left the dishes to the night shift and headed home. It was still light outside. A voice called out his name, so he stopped and turned around. A young man of about his age was walking up to him. He was tall, a little too thin, with long, dirty blond hair, dark eyes, and a pale complexion. "Hi, Blake. I was wonderin' if you'd be by tonight."

"I stopped by the tavern, but you'd already left. Where were you last night?" Blake was wearing the same sort of simple clothes as Donnan, but they were darker colors and of better quality.

"Darris actually gave us the night off, but we had to go to the ceremony."

"No wonder I didn't find you."

"Didn't you have your own ceremony to go to?" Donnan asked.

"I did. But it wasn't very long, at least not for us acolytes. We were let out about an hour before midnight."

"You didn't sacrifice any animals or anythin', did you?"

"I've told you, that's just a misconception spread by those who are ignorant of the real role of the Order of Darkness," Blake answered irritably. "We Dark clergy serve a necessary function. And although no one will admit comin' to our temple if they possibly can avoid it, we always have business."

"Yes, I know what you say."

Blake sighed, and cleaned his small, silver framed glasses. "Donnan, I thought you said this didn't bother you."

"Well, normally it doesn't. I just don't feel myself today. And I don't normally have to think about what you do for a livin'."

He shrugged. "It's a necessary job, and it pays better than pickpocketin'."

"Fine, then you get to buy the drinks tonight."

"Fine. Sometimes I don't know why I talk to you."

"'Cause we've been friends for three years," Donnan answered.

"How long are you goin' to hold that against me?"

They continued walking until they came to a seedy-looking tavern. The boards were gray and cracked from insufficient maintenance. The chains holding up the sign were rusting through, and the paint was so faded the words, 'Black Goblet,' could barely be read. Small windows prevented much light from entering or leaving the tavern. It looked like the sort of place that only the toughest criminals would frequent, and then only when they were spoiling for a fight. The inside, however, was considerably nicer than the outside. Most of the customers were involved in criminal activities, but of a more subtle and dangerous nature, such as smuggling or mercenary work. The atmosphere was tense and suspicious, and the room was filled with the sound of murmured conversations. Taking no notice of the other customers, and not being noticed by any of the customers, the two made their way to a largish round table in the back. Blake ordered meals for both of them.

"So, what made Darris decide to give you two any time off?"

"I guess some clerics must've hassled him about keepin' us away from the ceremonies."

"Gods, but those things are so boring."

"Better than washin' dishes," Donnan shrugged.

"I guess."

"I talked to Aolani there."

"Oh, really?" Blake inquired, smirking slightly.

"Get that stupid grin off your face. I actually did. The wind blew some of her papers at me, so I picked them up and gave them to her."

"And then what?"

"She thanked me and went off with her friends."

"What a way to sweep a girl off her feet."

"Shut up," Donnan replied crossly. "Why do I talk to you?"

"We've been friends for three years."

"Oh, so now you're holdin' that against me," he retorted dryly. Soon their meals came. Blake did most of the talking.

"What's wrong with you?" Blake asked. "You've been quiet tonight."

Donnan gave him a look.

"Quieter than normal."

He sighed. "I had this really weird dream last night I can't seem to shake."

"A dream? That's it?"

"That's the same thing Alain pretty much said. Thanks so much for your understandin'."

"No, come on." Blake steepled his fingers together. "Tell me about these dreams you've been havin'."

Donnan shook his head. "I don't think you're takin' this seriously."

"Come on," he prodded.

"There wasn't that much to it. I was alone on the mountain side. I got caught in an avalanche."

"That doesn't seem so bad."

"I shouldn't be, should it? But it felt real. Really real. I really felt cold, and I really heard the rumblin' of the avalanche."

"It was storming pretty good last night. Maybe that's what you heard," Blake offered.

"Maybe," he agreed doubtfully.

"I could ask around at the temple."

"What? No. No, don't do that. Why would you, anyway?"

Blake shrugged. "Well, you did have a particularly vivid dream on the solstice. Even if it was the summer solstice. It could mean something."

"You think everythin' means somethin' these days."

"Do you really think your dream is just a dream?"

"I don't know. Look, never mind," Donnan replied irritably. He glanced up at the doors. "It looks like our card partners are finally here."

"And late too," agreed Blake, looking at a group of two young women and a young man who had just walked in. They joined the pair and so the evening passed. It was a few hours past midnight when the group split up and headed home. Donnan, who was only slightly tipsy, dropped Blake off at the temple and made his way back to his apartment. His brother wasn't home yet. He was just getting into bed when he heard the keys turning in the lock.

"Damn it," he thought, crawling out of bed again. "Just a minute," he called irritably. He opened the door and Alain staggered in.

"Gods, Alain, what in darkness happened?" he exclaimed.

The older man was sporting a black eye, a split lip, a bloody nose, and his clothes were dirty and slightly ripped. "Don't yell," he mumbled.

"You got in a fight again," Donnan sighed. He set his brother down on the couch and fetched their meager supply of bandages from underneath the bed. "What happened? Lose at cards again?" He poured a little alcohol on a cloth and started to clean the open wounds.

"Ow, that stings," he yelped.

"It's supposed to. Can you understand my questions? Or are you too drunk?"

"Dammit, I didn't drink that much."

"Sorry."

Alain sighed. "I'll admit, I had a couple of ales. And maybe a shot of whiskey in there, but I wasn't real drunk. Not like some nights."

"Then why did you get into a fight? This is goin' to look real bad when you re-apply to the city guard."

"I know that, little brother. It wasn't my fault."

"Be honest."

"I am. Ow, dammit."

"You're lucky you didn't break anythin'. Or get anythin' broken. How would that look, trying to sword fight with your arm in a splint?"

"Donnan, please, I've had a bad night."

"I'm sorry," he replied contritely. "You don't seem that drunk. So what happened?"

He sighed. "Alright, I should just get this over with. I want to forget this by mornin'. Me and the guys were playin' pockets down at the Steel Mug."

Donnan raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't hustlin' tonight. I swear."

He continued to give him the same accusing look.

"I wasn't. I know how bad that'll look for the guard. And I wasn't drinkin' too much in case someone tried to talk me into it. Anyway, we was just mindin' our own business when a bunch of off-duty guards came up to our table and started hasslin' us. Said they wanted us to move. There was plenty of empty tables. They were lookin' for a fight. So then Reese starts getting in my face..."

"Reese? The Guard Commander's son?" Donnan interrupted.

"Yeah. Now he'd had too much to drink."

"Gods, why did you fight him? You're goin' to have a hard enough time gettin' into the guard without havin' the commander hear about you from his stuck-up jackass of a son."

Alain sighed. "Well, I had to."

"You always have to," he snapped harshly.

"I'm sorry, little brother," he replied in a low voice. "I wasn't goin' to fight him. I knew better. I really did. He was insultin' me and my job. The guys were real surprised I held back so long."

"Then what started it?" he asked, his tone softer.

"Well, Reese started sayin' bad things about you. Said you'd made moves on Aolani last night."

"What?" he exclaimed. "I picked up some papers for her. That's it. What in darkness is wrong with him?"

"Well, you didn't tell me you ran into Aolani, but I tried to tell him you were probably just tryin' to be helpful. He wasn't buyin' it. Then he started sayin' that we should know better. That we were just low class, and a woman like Aolani was too good for a skinny dishwasher who hangs out with thieves and Dark priests. Then he got real mean. I couldn't let him talk about you like that, but I swear to gods, he threw the first punch. The guys will back me up on that. The bouncers got us thrown out before we broke anythin', which I guess is good for me, since we don't really have the money to pay for new pocket sticks. The guys got me off of him pretty quick. We didn't need the on duty guard comin' by."

Donnan's fists were clenched in anger. "That coward! That godsdamn coward!" He slammed his fists on the table.

"Oh, my head," moaned Alain.

"Those criminals and Dark priests are the reason he went to find you instead of me. He wouldn't have the courage to go into the shady part of town. I didn't do anythin' wrong. She dropped her papers, they blew toward me, and I picked them up. That son of a..."

"Donnan," Alain interrupted sharply. "I know. I know you didn't do anythin' wrong. He was drunk, and lookin' for a fight. If it hadn't been me, it would've been someone else."

"But this is goin' to make it harder for you to become a guard. You know that the commander isn't goin' to believe you didn't start the fight. You know Reese's friends are goin' to say you threw the first punch. It's not fair. Just because he was born high class doesn't mean he do whatever he wants and get away with it."

"I agree."

"Then how come I'm the one who's angry?" he snapped.

"You didn't get to hit him."

Donnan smiled in spite of himself. "How can you get over this so quick?"

He shrugged. "Because I've been in a lot of fights. I know how I get when I'm drunk and upset. Maybe he just had a bad night or somethin'. Besides, I was winnin'."

"It's still not fair," he replied, finishing up bandaging his brother.

"Yeah, I know. It's not fair. It's life. You've got to forgive and forget, and then move on."

"But, Alain, if you were really winnin', do you think Reese is going to forget?"

"I don't know. But no use worryin' about it now."

"But..."

"Donnan, we should get to bed. We have work in the mornin'."

"Yes. You're right." He put away the few healing supplies, and both brothers crawled into bed. Donnan leaned over the bunk bed. "You're not going to give me another lecture about hangin' out with bad company?"

Alain shrugged. "I figured it could wait until breakfast."

"You sure you didn't have too much to drink?" he asked, teasing gently.

He smiled. "Goodnight, little brother," he replied, rolling over.

"Goodnight."

It was now exactly one month since the solstice in Nahaar. Eliora had completely forgotten about the odd daydream and had never actually gone to temple about it. She kept up her standard for work, still trying to make up for her mistake on the solstice. She left work on time that day and made her way out to an artisan section to meet her friends at a coffeehouse. She took a seat next to Ofira.

"Everyone, everyone," she said with enthusiasm, "listen up. I've got wonderful news."

They paused expectantly.

"Apparently Izak has been pleased with my performance lately, and he's put in a recommendation for a promotion," she exclaimed.

There was a round of congratulations from the group.

"When is your performance review going to be?" asked Zeki.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It's supposed to be a surprise. Izak will send in someone to observe me while I do my job. Someone will also go through my files, again, I don't know when, to check for the quality and organization. So I could know by next week, or in the next two months."

"Quality and organization? Well, so much for that," Ofira teased.

"I'll have you know I'm highly organized," she returned indignantly, but she was smiling.

"Did you remember to check the message office this morning?" asked Zeki.

"Oh, no, I forgot," she answered sheepishly.

The group laughed.

"Fine. I'll amend my statement. I'm highly organized at work, and that's all that really matters to my superiors."

"What does your family think?" asked Ofira.

"Mother and Father are very proud of me."

Another round of coffee was brought to the table, and the conversation drifted elsewhere. After many spirited debates about art and life in general, the group broke up.

"Eliora, can I walk you home?" asked Zeki.

She nodded, and they headed out into the cold night.

"Are you happy you might get promoted?" he asked.

"Of course I am. You know that the family needs the extra money."

"Yes, I know that. But I was talking about the kind of pressure this will put on you."

"Why do you bring these things up and put a damper on my good mood?" she asked.

"Because I'm your friend, and I can tell when things are bothering you. Did you parents bring up marriage?"

"Yes. Yes, they did."

"Do they have prospects?" he pressed.

"Not as such. There are a few families they're going to get in touch with, though. A promotion is a sign of success, and as Mother said, 'a successful woman makes a good wife.'"

"Why do you resist marriage so much? It's not the end of the world."

"It's not that. I'm not sure why I'm so repulsed by the idea. Mother and Father seem very happy together. And they were matched by their families."

"I don't understand. If you don't object to an arranged marriage, what's the problem?"

"I don't exactly approve of arranged marriages either. They can work, and have for generations. It's tradition, although thankfully we're moving away from that. I guess I'm a little scared."

"Scared?" he repeated, surprised.

"Sure. Aren't you?"

"Of what?"

"Of getting yourself permanently attached to someone else that you barely know."

"Well, then, that's simple enough to overcome," he replied. "Just try to talk your parents into arranging the marriage with someone you do know."

"I've thought of that, but marriage still scares me. I'll have new responsibilities. I won't have as much freedom. And once I'm married, I know there's going to be pressure for me to have children. And then what becomes of my successful career? Someone has to take care of the children. And what happens when the children grow up and move out? What am I supposed to do? I can't go back to the career I abandoned before their birth. I have to give up everything to get married. My career, my friends, a lot of my freedom, and even my family in a way. How can that not scare me?"

"Eliora, I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"I've known you for a long time, and I've never known you to be scared of anything."

"Surely I've been scared before."

"Well, probably so. But I've never known you to be afraid of anything, or even have doubts about anything."

"Do you think it's because I'm so scatter-brained and flighty I don't think about unpleasant things?"

"Honestly?" he asked a bit sheepishly.

She sighed. "I knew that's what you were thinking. I'm not flighty, not really. I just don't worry about things unless they're really important."

"Yes, I know. It's one of the things I like about you. You don't worry about little things, not what other people think of you, not even about small mistakes at work. You do worry about big ones, like almost getting written up. It makes you more fun to be around since you always seem so cheerful."

"Thanks, Zeki," she replied, smiling. "But I have to grow up sometime. So Mother and Father reminded me last night."

"Have you told your parents how you feel?"

She shook her head. "No. I have to come to terms with this on my own. Besides, I feel foolish for being afraid. Everyone has to get married sooner or later. I guess I was just hoping it would be later." She straightened up. "But it seems I don't get to wait until later, so I'd better just get used to the idea now, and start to consider my prospects."

He smiled. "That's another thing I like about you. How when you decide to do something, you stop worrying about the outcome and just do what needs to be done."

"Really, I just put on a brave front. I figure things will work out as they are meant to."

"I wish I had that kind of faith in the order of the world."

"It's not really faith," she corrected with a smile. "Some would call it wishful thinking. But it works for me." She paused. "Are you seeing any prospects?"

"What? Are you jealous?" he asked with a smile.

"Of course not," she replied, feeling a blush rise. "But I remember you saying your parents wanted you engaged by the equinox. I was just wondering if you had starting courting anyone. And if so, why I haven't met her yet?"

"I've been procrastinating, much to the annoyance of my family. But it helps having my own place, so I'm not getting nagged every minute of every day."

"You can't hide from them forever," she replied, teasing gently. "Mothers especially know these things. It's uncanny, really."

He laughed. "No kidding." His smile faded. "But seriously, I haven't gone to court yet."

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

He blushed. "Maybe. But I'm not sure how to broach the subject."

"You'd better do something, or else she's going to end up being courted by someone else."

"That's probably true. But you know me. I tend to over-analyze everything."

"I know. You've always been like that. You've got to stop worrying so much. Cheer up. Life is good." She switched the conversation to lighter topics, and by the time they reached her house, Zeki was stifling laughter so as not to wake anyone up.

"Thanks for cheering me up," he said.

"Thanks for walking me home."

He shrugged. "It's the only time I really get to talk to you lately. The increasing number of caravans coming through has really increased my accounting workload. You've been working extra hard for this promotion, and of course we're always with everyone else."

"Sounds like we've already turned into full adults."

"How very depressing," he remarked.

She laughed. "It's life. See you later."

"Remember to go to the message office in the morning."

"Yes, thank you," she replied, and entered the house. Her parents were in the living room talking in low voices when she entered.

"Hello, my daughter," greeted Lior.

"Hello, Father, Mother. Have you been talking about me?"

He laughed a little. "Yes. We've been talking about your future."

"I thought you might," she replied.

"Did you remember to stop by the message office?" asked Adiva.

"I'll do it first thing in the morning."

Her parents sighed. "You can't keep forgetting such things, especially when you get married. You'll have to run the household," she scolded gently.

"Yes, Mother."

"Well, come sit down. This is your future, so we ought to discuss it with you," said Lior.

"Yes, sooner than later," she thought as she sat down. "But there's no help for it now. Time to set my mind to the task and get it done, no matter how unpleasant it may be." She set her shoulders and address both her parents. "Mother, Father, can I refuse any match you make for me?"

"Of course, but you must have good reasons," answered Adiva.

"We wouldn't object if one of the many young men you know came to court you, as long as they were of good standing," added Lior.

"Thank you."

"We want you to be happy, daughter," he said.

The three talked until midnight, discussing suitable families and prospects. Now that she had decided to accept the idea of marriage, she didn't feel so apprehensive, and so fell asleep quickly.

"What? Not again," she said out loud. It was night, and she was alone in the deep desert. She was not lost in the middle of sandy expanses, but in rocky wastes. There was not a breath of wind. She stood still for a moment, but the ground seemed stable. Then she started to pick her way across the rocks, looking for an outcropping or possibly a cave that would provide her with shelter. She scrounged around looking for anything that would burn. She finally gathered up enough dried plant material to make a small fire. Shivering, she patted down her pockets, but found nothing in them. As she set her mind to figuring out how to light the fire, the plant material spontaneously burst into flame. "Good gods!" she blurted, backing away. The fire was very hot. She waited for the fire to burn out, confused, frightened, and just slightly annoyed that her hard work to gather up fire material was going to be wasted. The fire, however, did not burn out. Instead, it started to grow. She continued to back away. "What's going on here?" she thought. "This isn't possible." The plant material had already been consumed, and the fire seemed to be burning up the very rock. Suddenly overcome by fear, she ran away from the strange, growing conflagration. She dashed straight into the cold desert night, not looking back, but absolutely certain the fire was chasing her. Her side ached and it hurt to draw breath, but she could feel the warmth on her back, and continued to run, but it was of no use. The unnatural flame engulfed her in a flash of light and heat.

She sat bolt upright in the bed, panting and drenched in sweat. Shaking her head to clear it, she listened for footsteps, hoping she hadn't woken anyone up. The house was dark, quiet, and cool. After a few minutes of sitting still in her familiar and comforting room, she lay back down, her body calm but her mind racing. "What's going on? Is there something wrong with me? Why am I receiving such terrifying visions?" She relaxed, and realized she felt exhausted, as though she had actually been running for her life. Soon she was asleep again.

A month passed in Renfrew. Alain increased the time he spent practicing for the city guard, and Donnan grudgingly agreed to help. They were not bothered by any guards, but Donnan did see Aolani when she walked past the tavern on her way back from the school where she taught. As she was always surrounded by a group of people, he could never quite pluck up enough courage to talk to her. The day came for the city guard tests, exactly one month after the solstice. The brothers couldn't get the day off, but they did manage to leave after the lunch crowd in order to reach the western guardhouse by mid-afternoon.

The main guardhouse was in the center of the city, and had no place suitable for the testing or training of guards. The western guardhouse was actually a large compound located on the outskirts of Renfrew. There were three long, narrow buildings that served as barracks for the trainees, a large, square building that served as a classroom, a narrow building that served as the living quarters for the instructors, and a smallish building that served as an administration building. The grounds had areas marked off for an archery range, a sword fighting area, an obstacle course, and a track. The workout areas were flanked by wooden bleachers for spectators and judges. There was a high fence around the compound and two gates, once facing the city and one facing the farming areas. The brothers entered the front gate and bypassed the administration building to head directly to the workout areas. There was a table set up by the entrance to the archery range. A crowd of about sixty young men, standing in a single-file line. Alain immediately got in line and Donnan went and found a spot in the mostly empty bleachers to watch the tests.

After everyone was signed in, three of the instructors administered the tests. They were all in their late fifties or sixties, and all wearing a breastplate and a sword belt with both a dagger and a longsword.

Donnan watched as the men lined up on the archery range and were handed longbows. He rolled up his sleeves, trying to stay cool in the hot afternoon sun. The bleachers shook slightly, and he realized someone was walking toward him when he caught a whiff of lavender perfume.

"Excuse me," said a female voice.

He looked up and saw Aolani standing next to him. She was wearing a light blue sun dress and had a broad hat on her head.

"Aren't you the nice man who caught my lesson plans on solstice night?" she asked.

He nodded.

"May I sit here? I really don't like sitting alone, and you're the only person who even looks familiar to me."

He nodded again, barely believing his good luck.

She sat down very primly. "My name is Aolani," she said, holding out her hand.

"Donnan," he returned, feeling stunned. "Pleased to meet you."

They listened to the instructor drone on for a few more minutes before he finally allowed the first man to step up to the line.

"So, Aolani, what brings you here? I mean, this isn't exactly a spectator sport," he said, trying to sound casual.

She smiled. "No, it's not really very exciting, is it? I wouldn't be here, but this is Kennet's first time trying out. He just reached the minimum age. That's my little brother, right down there," she answered, pointing out a thin young man with dark red hair.

"I'm here for my brother, too. That's Alain, my older brother."

"I hope he appreciates my moral support. It's so very hot out today."

"It really is," he agreed. "I'm glad I don't have to be out there."

Each man got three shots with the longbow. Those who weren't sufficiently close to the target were rejected. The test was then repeated with a short bow and a heavy crossbow. Donnan noted with some amusement that Aolani held her breath when Kennet was up at the line.

"Well, now it should get more excitin'," Donnan commented.

"Really? What's next?"

"They get to don armor and do some fightin' with wooden practice weapons," he answered, as the men were moved to a different area. "We'd better move if we want to be able to see well."

"Alright. I've never been to one of these things before. I hope they don't take too long."

He stood up and summoned his courage to hold his hand out to her.

She took it daintily and they started to step down the bleachers.

"Shouldn't be too long. Usually they're finished by about dinner time. The worst part is the interview at the end. That's when they have to go into the administration buildin' and get their records reviewed," he explained.

"Oh, goodness. Well, I suppose that makes sense. You wouldn't want a thief in the city guard," she remarked as he lead her to another set of bleachers. They took a seat. "How many of these tests have you been to?"

"Three now," he answered, sounding just a touch bitter.

"All for your brother?"

He nodded.

"I guess the tests must be very difficult," she replied diplomatically.

"The interview is the worst part."

The instructors paired off the remaining men and signaled for them to start. They walked around the fighting pairs, taking notes and changing out partners.

"I don't think Kennet's doing too well," Aolani commented worriedly.

He had noted with some amusement that she gasped and cringed when her brother took what seemed to be pretty hard hits. "He's not doin' too bad. I've seen worse fighters get into the guard. They aren't supposed to be lookin' for someone fully trained, just someone with enough talent or discipline to get properly trained."

"That's a relief. He's been practicing, he really has. He's just a bit clumsy. Your brother seems to be doing well."

"He's been practicin' too," Donnan replied, flexing his shoulders. "Part of me hopes he gets into the guard just so I can stop helpin' him practice."

She laughed.

He fought a blush and smiled nervously.

"Suddenly I feel sorry for Kennet's friends. He probably got them to help him practice."

They watched as the men fought for about half hour, with the instructors switching out pairs, weapons, and armor. More men were turned away, and the instructors started to herd them to another area.

"Oh, good, Kennet made it."

"I'm not surprised," he replied, bitterness seeping into his voice.

She pretty face clouded up.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "I didn't mean anythin' by that. Um, we should move again. They'll be headin' to the track and obstacle course." He held out his hand again.

The displeased expression was replaced by a surprised look. She took his hand, and he lead her to the track area. "Running and an obstacle course now?" she repeated. "After having to fight in that heavy armor in the hot sun?"

He shrugged. "A guard's no good if a thief can out-run them."

"I guess I can understand that, but goodness, I see why so many people have to reapply."

He bit back a sarcastic remark. "I will not waste my good luck by offending her," he thought to himself.

"Are they at least going to get some water?" she asked worriedly.

"Sure. Someone should be comin' by soon. If not, the instructors are going to get real upset."

The group was milling around the obstacle course and the instructors were looking annoyed. One was starting to head to the buildings when three guards came out of the administration building carrying a large water jug in each hand. They dropped them off with the instructors and returned to the building. A tall, muscular, good-looking, dark-headed young man with a short beard and mustache looked up at the bleachers and waved. Aolani waved back.

"Oh, I didn't know Reese was on duty here today."

"So much for my good luck," Donnan thought bitterly.

The man called Reese glared up at Donnan, then continued on his way.

"That wasn't a nice look he gave you," she commented.

"You noticed?" he stuttered, surprised.

She nodded. "Of course I did. Do you think I'm so smitten by a handsome face that I don't notice bad manners?"

"I'm sorry," he replied, nonplussed.

She suddenly looked very embarrassed. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't lash out like that. I don't even know you. I shouldn't take my anger out on total strangers."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Look, the instructors are linin' them up for the obstacle course," he pointed out.

"Oh, yes, I see," she responded, clearly grateful for the distraction. "Do they have to run in full armor?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Of course."

"Goodness. I didn't realize this was so difficult. But I'm glad I came out today. Now I know not to be too hard on Kennet if he doesn't make it the first time."

"He'll probably do fine."

They watched as the potential guards were timed as they ran around the track, and as they ran through an obstacle course that included jumping, climbing, and crawling. When it was over, the instructors sent away about twenty men. Overall, the tests had taken about three hours.

"What do we do now?" Aolani asked.

"They'll be lead into the administration buildin', and we get to wait until they come out," he answered.

"If I'm going to wait, I'm going to wait in the shade." She stood up and started to walk to the sign-up table, which was still out and now in the shade of the administration building.

"That's a good idea." He stood up and followed her.

They sat down on the table top. She was fidgeting a little by swinging her legs back and forth.

"I'll bet she's got great legs," he thought.

"How long does this part take?" she asked.

He snapped back to attention. "It depends on the person. Most people don't apply if they've got some crime on their record. But the guards sometimes keep track of people who get in trouble but don't get arrested."

"Like people who start bar fights?"

"Yes, exactly like that," he replied. "Sometimes people with records can talk their way out of it, if they make a good case for never doing it again. Or so Alain has told me."

"Do all the interviews take place at once?"

"It's one on one with whichever commander is on duty. But Alain's heard some things from his friends."

"I see. I suppose it could be true. As you said, they aren't looking for people who are already trained. They're looking for potential."

"Yes, exactly." He thought to himself, "Of course, they often ignore that potential if it doesn't wear the right clothes. Dammit to darkness. Why did Reese have to be here? There's no way Alain's going to get in."

"Do they come out the front door or the back door?"

"What? I'm sorry."

"Do they come out of the front door or the back door?" she repeated, with a slight smile.

"Usually the front. But since Alain knows I'm here, he'll come lookin' for me."

"I hope Kennet shows that much sense," she remarked with a slight smile. She took off her hat and start to fan herself with it. "I can't wait until autumn. It's just too hot."

He nodded in agreement. She started up small talk about the weather. After about fifteen minutes, they had exhausted that topic.

"If it's not too personal a question, Donnan, why aren't you trying out for the guard? If you've been helping your brother practice for a while, I imagine you could do at least as well as Kennet."

"Thanks? That was a compliment, right?"

She smiled and chuckled a little. "It wasn't a very good one, was it? Since I've been dating Reese, I've met a lot of guards. You seem to have a decent build," she replied, a delicate blush rising on her face.

"Well, thanks. Really." He felt his own face starting flush. "I just don't want to be a guard. I know, it's a good job and it pays good money, but it's just not what I'd like to do for a livin'," he explained quickly, trying to hide his sudden anxiety.

"I can understand that," she agreed. "It's really not for everyone. I can't say that running through the streets at night chasing pickpockets sounds like a job everyone should want. I wouldn't want it."

He smiled. "It doesn't sound like fun to me either. But Alain wants the job, so good for him."

"Well, I hope it's not impertinent of me, but I wish him all the best of luck."

"Thanks. I hope your brother gets in as well."

Her smile suddenly faded. "Yes. Thank you."

"I'm sorry, did I say somethin' wrong?"

"No. I worry about my little brother. I just realized what sort of dangers he's going to be exposed to as a guard. I don't want him to get hurt."

"He'll get good trainin'," he replied, trying to sound reassuring.

She brightened up a little. "That's true."

"Donnan!" Alain yelled.

"Sounds like he's done. But I can't tell if he made it or not. Back here!" he responded.

Alain came around the corner of the building, looking crestfallen.

"Oh, not again" he sighed.

Then his face broke into a broad smile and he grabbed his younger brother in a big bear hug. "I got in! I got in this time!"

"That's great," he gasped. "Ribs, oh, gods, my ribs."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, releasing him.

"You really got in this time?"

"Sure. The captain did ask me about the fight with Reese, but I was honest and just told him straight out how Reese had hassled me..."

Donnan cleared his throat very noisily. "Tell me about that later," he interrupted, putting emphasis on 'later' and glanced at Aolani, who was still sitting on the table and suddenly looking quite interested in the conversation.

Alain looked confused, but dropped the subject. "Anyway, I did the best of all the guys on the time trial, and old Captain Kemp said my swordplay had really improved. I guess I have you to thank for that."

"Don't mention it," he replied ruefully, flexing his shoulders again.

"Come on, let's go celebrate. You can even invite Blake if you want," he said jovially.

"Really? Damn, you must be happy." He turned to Aolani. "We have to go now. I hope your brother makes it in."

"Me too," she returned with a polite smile, but it was clear she was thinking about something else.

"I'm glad you joined me. Having a nice conversation with such a lovely lady really helped to pass the time."

She turned her focus back to him and gave him a genuine smile. "Yes, it was a pleasant conversation."

"Good day," he said, as Alain gently pulled him away.

"Good day," she returned.

The brothers left the western guardhouse. They walked for about fifteen minutes before Alain spoke up.

"It seems you had a very good day."

"What?" Donnan looked up. "Why do you have that silly smile on your face?"

"'Cause of the stupid grin on your face. 'Cause you got to spend the afternoon with a pretty lady, and I had to sweat in full armor in the hot sun for the afternoon."

"And you really need a shower, too."

"Thank you, little brother. Here I work my rear end off to get into the guard, and instead of cheerin' me on, you're talkin' to the woman of your dreams."

"Oh, shut up," he replied affectionately. "It was just luck. Her little brother was tryin' out for the guard too. She just wanted someone to talk to and she remembered me from the solstice."

"Sounds like true love to me."

"You're such a jackass."

"I know. Hey, why did you want me to shut up about that fight I had?" Alain asked.

"Reese brought out the water jugs, or didn't you notice?"

"How could I miss that? Damn, I was sure I was finished right then. That's why I figured I might as well be honest with the commander. I figured he'd already heard his side of the fight."

"Well, he waved to Aolani. And I think he was with her on the solstice. She's seein' him and I just thought it would be kind of rude to talk about that fight in front of her," Donnan explained.

"Doesn't she deserve to know he was a jackass?"

"Sure, but she's probably heard only his side. To hear you say he started it makes you sound like the jackass."

"Oh. I see your point. I guess it's not very nice to bad-mouth a lady's suitor when he isn't there to defend himself."

"Exactly."

"Here, isn't this the road that leads to the temple?" asked Alain.

"You were serious when you invited Blake to dinner?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course."

"But you're always lecturin' me about keepin' bad company."

"Hey, it's a special day. Besides, you haven't listened to any of my lectures. Maybe it's time I just stopped lecturin'," Alain replied.

"I think you've been in the sun too much today," he retorted dryly.

He half-laughed. "Oh, come on. Cheer up. It's a good day."

"Yes, you're right. It is."

"We'll clean up, I'll go pick up my friends, you go pick up Blake, and we'll meet at the Wooden Tankard. Sound good?"

"Sounds just fine," answered Donnan.

The evening passed swiftly. Alain's friends regarded Donnan and especially Blake with some suspicion, but became more friendly the more they drank. Neither brother allowed themselves to get too drunk. It was late when they reached their tiny apartment and went to bed.

"Oh, darkness," Donnan muttered, looking around. He was not on the mountain top this time, but instead somewhere in the middle of a grassy plain. "This is not right. Not right," he thought to himself. It was day time, but dark, windy, and raining. Hidden forks of lightning flashed through the thick clouds overhead. He looked around for some shelter from the stinging rain. There was nothing but empty, flat plains. Thunder crashed almost right over his head. He jumped and turned. He saw a twister drop out of the clouds and start to move toward him. "Damn, damn, damn," he thought, "maybe it'll turn." But the twister seemed to be heading straight for him. Panicked, he started to run away. There was nothing to obstruct his progress, but the twister was faster than he was. His breath was ragged and his legs ached with effort. The wind roared in his ears and he felt himself being picked up by the twister and tossed into the air.

His eyes snapped open and he was breathing heavily. He tried to move, but his body seemed paralyzed with fear. "Alain?" he ventured in a soft voice.

"Ermph. Gobackt'sleep," came his muffled reply, and he rolled over, shaking the bunk bed.

Donnan breathed a sigh of relief and felt his muscles start to relax. Soon he heard Alain's reassuring snores. "What is wrong with me?" he thought. "What's with these dreams? This is not normal." His mind was racing, but his body felt exhausted, as though he really had been running for his life. It didn't take him too long to fall back into a dreamless sleep.

Eliora awoke the next morning still feeling tired, and didn't say much at breakfast. She thought about going to the temple, but remembered she needed to stop by the message office, and didn't have time to do both before work started. By the end of the work day, she had forgotten about the dream and going to temple entirely.

She was finishing up the last of her paperwork when she heard a knock on her office door. "Come in," she called.

"Hello, Eliora," said Basir.

"Hello, Basir," she returned with a smile. "You didn't come by the coffeehouse last night."

"I'm sorry about that. The meeting I was assigned to ran long, and I had a few errands to run after work. Hopefully I won't be detained next time."

"What brings you here? I thought you were normally assigned to meetings in the merchant halls."

He smiled. "May I walk you home?"

"Sure." She gathered up her bag and locked up the office. They didn't start to talk until they escaped the bazaar.

"I heard you were recommended for a promotion," he started.

"Yes. The performance review could be next week, or next month. Izak won't give me any hints, and believe me, I tried my best."

He laughed a little. "I do believe you. I'm sure you'll get the promotion. You work hard enough, that's for sure."

"Thanks. Again, I just do my best."

"Have you enjoyed going out to dinner with me?" he asked.

"I wouldn't go out with someone four times if I didn't enjoy their company."

"Good, good. I've enjoyed your company quite a bit. So, if I may be so bold, are you being courted right now?"

She almost stopped dead in her tracks. "No," she answered, managing to keep her voice level.

"Really? I'm surprised. A successful, brilliant young woman like yourself doesn't have at least one suitor?"

She sort of shrugged. "No, not yet. I'm not worried, though. My parents have started talking to me about my prospects."

"Ah, I understand. Probably prompted by your potential promotion?"

She nodded. "Of course. I am old enough that I should be considering marriage by now. I've just been focusing on my career so much I haven't had time to scout out my own prospects."

"Now I understand why you don't have any suitors yet. Life has gotten in the way of life."

She sort of smiled. "Doesn't it always? Why do you ask?"

"Well, you caught my attention when I started to join the coffeehouse group. Over this past month, I've started to really like you."

She blushed.

"I know tradition dictates a potential suitor should ask the lady's father for permission to court her, but times are changing."

They stopped walking and she waited anxiously.

"So my question is: should I ask your father for permission to court you?" he asked with a smile.

She thought about this for a minute, trying to calm her fears. She steadied her courage, reminded herself she wasn't committing to marry him, and answered, "You may ask him."

A brief expression of relief crossed his face. "You tell me when would be a good idea to approach him."

"Any time this week. Tonight, if you're feeling bold."

"Not quite that bold," he declined with a smile.

She returned the smile. "Then I suggest you meet with him tomorrow afternoon, when he leaves his post. He's stationed over in the east side commercial district, by the main caravan road."

"Alright, I'll do that." He then switched the conversation over to scribe work, and soon the two were in a heated political debate over some proposed changes in the trade laws.

"I'll concede you made some good points, but I still think the laws need some revision before being put into effect," she finished, then looked surprised. "Oh, I'm home."

"So soon? I really like the way I can talk to you about these things. I just lose track of time. And I'll concede you made some good points too, but I still think the flaws in the law aren't that critical," he replied.

"Well, I'm sure we'll talk about this again some other time," she said with a smile. "But I need to go. I have to help Mother with dinner."

He kissed the back of her hand gently. "Good day, Eliora. I hope to talk to your father tomorrow."

"Good day, Basir," she returned, looking pleased. "If you do, I'm sure I'll know by tomorrow night." She then entered the house, and he turned and walked away, whistling cheerfully.

"What's wrong, little brother?" asked Alain as they headed to work. "You've hardly said a word all morning."

"Sorry. I just had a bad dream last night."

"What, again?"

"Again? I haven't had a dream like this since the solstice," he replied.

"Well, this is the second time you've let a dream bother you. Come on, cheer up. Today I resign and tomorrow I move into the barracks. You get the place to yourself."

Donnan suddenly got a strange feeling of dread at the thought of being left alone.

"You don't got to listen to me snore anymore," Alain went on cheerfully.

"Yeah, yeah. It'll be great," he replied dully.

"You worry too much. If you're going to worry about anythin', you should worry about Darris. He isn't goin' to like this."

He shrugged. "He knew it was comin'. You warned him two weeks ago that you were tryin' out again."

"You know he just likes complainin'."

They reached the tavern and the first thing Alain did was find Darris in his office and quit the job. He did agree to finish out his full day's work. A customer darkened the door during the afternoon lull as they were cleaning the common room.

"Excuse me," said a familiar a female voice.

The brothers looked up, visibly surprised.

"Aolani?" said Donnan.

She walked up to them. "Yes. I'm sorry for interrupting your work, but I need to ask you a question."

"Go ahead," Alain replied, clearly confused.

"Yesterday you mentioned you had a fight with Reese."

Donnan gave his brother what he hoped was an unobtrusive nudge.

He seemed to get the hint. "Oh, yeah, that. It was nothin', really. Silly of me to mention it."

"Was Reese harassing you? Did he throw the first punch?" she asked earnestly.

Alain got another nudge. "Well, it was what, a month ago? I don't really remember now."

"Clearly you both realize that I'm being courted by Reese right now. I appreciate the efforts of you both to be gentlemanly."

Donnan flushed a little.

"But I'd appreciate it more if you'd just be honest with me. I wouldn't ask this question if I didn't want the answer," she finished.

Alain looked at Donnan for guidance. He nodded slightly.

"Alright," he sighed. "He was a little drunk..."

She raised an eyebrow. "A little?"

Again, he looked to his younger brother for guidance. Donnan gave another encouraging nod.

"He was pretty drunk," he admitted. "He came in with some of his friends. All off-duty guards I'm guessin'. He started to hassle us, and then started sayin' some, er, unkind things about my brother. I wanted to hit him for that, but I figured that wouldn't look good when I applied to the guard. So I was just tryin' to leave, but then he punched me in the face. I lost my temper. I shouldn't have, but I did."

"Honestly?" she asked.

"Gods' honest truth."

Her pretty face clouded. "Yes. Thank you." With that, she turned and left.

"Ah, darkness," muttered Alain.

"Odds that this is goin' to come back around and bite us?" Donnan asked.

"Too damn good." He shook his head. "Forgot it. What's done is done. Tomorrow I go to the barracks, and it's goin' to be at least two weeks before you're allowed to visit me."

Three weeks passed in Nahaar. Eliora went out with Basir at least twice a week, and they met each other's parents. Working extra hard trying to get her promotion left her with very little time to see her regular group of friends. She was packing to head out when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called.

Her supervisor walked in. "I just thought I'd let you know that we've secretly reviewed your work on assignment. You're halfway there. We'll make our decision in two to three weeks."

She smiled. "Thank you, Izak. Thank you so much."

"Don't get too excited. Nothing is set in stone."

"Oh, no. I understand," she replied, but seemed no less jubilant. "Are my chances good?"

He half-laughed. "You know the rules. No hints. You'll know when you know. And the quality of your work had better not drop off now that the performance review is over."

"No, no. Of course not. I don't want you to use the next few weeks to decide I'm not working hard enough." She waited for him to finish.

He looked amused. "Very good. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Of course. Thanks again," she said, and almost skipped out the door. She had threaded her way through the bazaar when she heard a voice call her name. "Basir, over here," she called, waving.

The handsome young scribe dodged the crowds, and they ducked down an alleyway. "You look to be a good mood."

"Izak told me the performance review was done. I'm halfway there. Izak says I'll have to wait another couple of weeks, but he didn't seem displeased, so I think I did well. Isn't that great?"

He half-laughed. "You're almost jumping for joy, and you don't even have the promotion yet. But yes, that's great news."

"There's no reason I shouldn't get promoted. I really think it's just a matter of time."

"And I guess you want to let everyone know the good news?" he asked, smiling.

"Please?"

"Alright. If it's not our friends, you'd probably go home to tell your family, and then I wouldn't get to see you at all tonight. So let's go."

She gave him a quick hug, then pulled back, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry. That's probably not proper at this stage of our relationship."

He looked surprised, then smiled. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you are so excited. You look lovely when you're happy."

She blushed. "Well, come on." By the time they reached the coffeehouse, they were embroiled in another political debate that neither could quite win.

"It's so infuriating when you're right," Basir conceded as they walked in.

"You may as well get used to it now," she replied with a smile, and found her friends. "Hello, everyone."

They were greeted warmly.

"Where've you been?" Ofira asked.

She looked at Basir.

"Oh, come now. Since we're here, shouldn't we tell them?" he asked.

She nodded. "Basir is courting me."

"Really? You're kidding?" blurted Ofira. The others echoed her sentiments.

"And there's more. Izak told me my performance review was done. I'm halfway to promotion."

There was a round of congratulations, and both took seats.

"Goodness, Eliora, we leave you alone for a little while, and now you're gaining fame and fortune," Ofira remarked with a laugh. Then she leaned over and lowered her voice. "And possibly gaining a husband."

"I know. It's so exciting," she agreed. She became suddenly aware that someone was missing from her group. "Where's Zeki?"

"He's working late tonight," answered Ofira.

"Is he working toward promotion too?"

"Not to my knowledge. So tell me how you've been." The group chatted and played games for several hours.

"Eliora, may I walk you home?" asked Basir politely.

"Actually, I would like to talk with you," said Ofira.

"Basir, would you mind waiting a little while?"

"I can't let you walk the streets alone at night, so I will wait. Even if I get bored."

She smiled. "You're so valiant."

"I do try."

"Come on, we can go to my place," she said.

"I'll wait right here," offered Basir.

The two women crossed the street and entered the art conservatory. It was built much like the individual houses were Eliora lived, but all of these houses were connected. Half of the buildings had no living room or kitchen, and these the tenants were expected to share. The floors were divided in half for occupants, but that space generally had to double as bedroom and sitting area for visitors. The inner courtyard was open, as normal, but there were pottery wheels, kilns, easels, paints, blocks of stone and chisels, and all manner of art supplies cluttering the space. Ofira lead her into a house that did have a kitchen and sitting area, but since the sitting area was being used, they went upstairs to her room.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Eliora asked. "And why couldn't we talk in front of Basir? He's a good man."

She sighed. "It's about Zeki."

"Zeki? He's not in trouble, is he?"

"No. It's true he's working late tonight, but he hasn't been at our get-togethers at all these past few weeks."

"But he's not in trouble?"

"No, no. He's fine. He's been courting."

Eliora felt like she had just been hit in the head with a rock. "Courting?" she stuttered. "I had no idea. Goodness. Zeki is courting."

"You shouldn't be quite so surprised. It's about that time in our lives when courting starts."

"I know, I know. Do you know who he's courting?"

"Yes. I do."

"Well, tell me about her."

"Well, it's me," Ofira replied, somewhat sheepishly.

"You? But I thought you and Zeki were just friends," she stammered, with a strange sinking feeling in her heart.

"We've been friends for a long time. He said he had talked to you about courting, and you told him to just go ahead and ask. So he did."

"Imagine that. Well. That's great. When did he ask? Are things working out?" she asked, trying to sound more enthusiastic.

"He asked about three weeks ago. I think things are working out so far. He's very kind. I can talk to him. He doesn't understand the art world, but he seems eager to learn. He's picked up few basics since he started to court me. I don't talk to him about accounting, but he seems quite grateful about that. I think it may work out."

"I'm happy for you. I really am. I hope everything works out well," she replied, succeeding in her effort to sound sincere.

She looked relieved. "Thanks. I was afraid you'd be jealous or upset, since Zeki's been your friend for so long."

"No, no. I'm happy for you both. Zeki deserves a good woman. I can't expect either of you to stay single forever, right? This way we don't have to be introduced to new people who may not like the group. As long as you two don't have any big fights, we can all stay together."

Ofira gave Eliora a hug. "I'm so glad you understand. You'd better get to Basir now."

"Yes, I had better. So, I'll see you two around?"

"Sure. Here, let's both make more of an effort to join the group outings."

"Alright. Good night."

"Good night."

Eliora left the conservatory and returned to the coffeehouse.

"What's wrong? Your good mood seems to have left you entirely," commented Basir, as they walked toward her house.

"What? Sorry, I just got surprised. Zeki is courting Ofira."

"Really? Well, good for them."

"Yes. Good for them," she repeated hollowly.

"Are you alright? You should be happy for them."

"I know I should. They both deserve someone who will really be good for them. I just never thought of the two of them together." She shook her head. "Look, can we talk about something else?"

"As you wish," he replied. Then he took her hand in his own.

She blushed.

"I prefer to see you happy than upset. We have yet to go over the finer points of wood tariffs."

By the time she got home, she was in a much better mood.

"Thank you," she said.

"For getting thoroughly trounced in a debate again?" he asked with a smile.

"For cheering me up."

He kissed her cheek gently. "It's the least I could do."

She blushed again. "Good night," she stuttered.

He smiled. "Good night, Eliora."

Three weeks passed before Donnan could work out a time to meet his brother down at the barracks. He was forced to work extra shifts at the tavern until another worker could be hired. Finally they figured out a time to meet for dinner at the Golden Flagon, a tavern that was near the western guardhouse.

Donnan entered the tavern and looked around. Although he knew his brother was making more money with a guard's salary, he was a little surprised that Alain had chosen such an upscale place to meet. Feeling a little under-dressed, he noticed that there seemed to be very few guards in the place. He saw a hand waving at him, so he walked to the back of the tavern and sat down.

"Hey, little brother," Alain said cheerfully. "Dinner should be comin' shortly. I already ordered. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," he tried to reply, but Alain overran his words.

"I'm real glad to see you. I miss our old place. It was small, but at least it was just you and me. Now I'm with all these guys, and we have to do all these team exercises. If we mess up, we all get punished. It's really a pain in the neck because one guy can just mess everythin' up. It's almost a miracle I could even get away tonight."

"Alain," Donnan tried to interrupt.

"Those instructors are harsh. You have to be almost perfect, or else they just yell and yell."

"Alain," he snapped.

"What?"

"You're babblin'. What's wrong?"

He sighed. "This is awful, little brother. This has been the worst time of my entire life. Worse than when we first moved here with no family and no money. Worse even than when we found out Mother and Father had been killed."

"It's supposed to be hard," he stammered, startled that his brother would bring up their parents' death.

"It's not easy. I don't mind all the hard work. We work out every day. Go runnin'. Lift weights. Practice with swords and bows and staves and daggers. Learn how to fix weapons and armor. I don't mind when someone messes up, and we all have to go runnin' or have to clean out the barracks again. I don't even mind gettin' yelled at when I mess up."

"So what's the problem?" Donnan pressed.

"Well, the instructors just teach. They get other guards to help them to do things. I mean, it's dangerous take a couple of guys who barely know which end of the sword to hold and tell them to fight with each other. Even with wooden practice swords, they'd probably get hurt pretty bad."

"Alright. But what's the problem?"

"Well, remember when Aolani asked us about that fight I had with Reese?"

"Alain," he replied sternly, "just tell me what's wrong."

"Reese got himself assigned to help us students."

Donnan slapped his forehead. "Godsdamn it."

Alain nodded. "Yeah. He always seems to end up my practice partner. I think he's tryin' to get me failed out so I have to go through basic trainin' again. He's always tryin' to break my fingers or somethin' because the armor keeps him from breakin' ribs or legs. Sometimes he insults me, real quiet, when I'm goin' through drills."

"Well, can't you report him or somethin'?"

He shook his head. "He wouldn't get in trouble. Besides, I'm not the only one he messes with. He likes to bully the smaller guys. He just likes messin' with me the most. I think maybe Aolani stopped seein' him."

"That's a small comfort, and only if it's true," he replied wryly. "Dammit. There's nothin' you can do?"

He shook his head. "One of the smaller guys did complain. Didn't name names, of course, and the instructor said it wasn't his problem, and said that learnin' to fight bullies builds character."

"So they don't mind the hazin'?"

"I guess so. Long as no one gets seriously hurt. I think they'd be pretty mad if someone got an arm broke. But if someone did, they'd have to do basic over again."

"Then you make damn sure you don't get an arm broken."

"Believe me, little brother, I'm goin' to try."

"This is not fair. You didn't do anythin' wrong."

He shrugged. "I know. But that's why we're here. Guards tend to go down to the Soldier's Arm tavern. This place is more civilian. I didn't want any trouble."

"You're just goin' to let him walk all over you?"

"What can I do? I knew I shouldn't have told you. Now you're goin' to get all mad and there's nothin' you can do."

Their meals were served, effectively cutting off the tirade Donnan was ready to launch into. They ate in silence.

"That was good," Donnan started.

"Yeah, much better than barrack food. This has got flavor," Alain replied with a small smile.

"You're stickin' with this?"

He nodded.

"Even though that jackass is makin' your life miserable?"

He nodded again. "I've worked too damn hard to let some spoiled brat get the best of me. If I hit him, and I really want to hit him, and get thrown out, he'd win."

Donnan sighed. "I know. It's just not fair. When things start to work out for us, somethin' seems to come along and mess that up."

"Well, I just take comfort knowin' soon I'll be done and get myself assigned away from him. I don't think he'll mess with me once I'm done with basic."

"He's been messin' with you for three weeks. You really think he'll stop?"

"I figure he'll lose interest. I figure the only reason he's still messin' with me is because Aolani stopped seein' him. I can't think of any other reason. Guys get stupid with pretty women."

"I think some guys start out stupid," he muttered.

"It's good to talk to you, little brother," Alain remarked, with a broader smile. "So what have you been up to?"

"Same as usual. I'm trying to get another job somewhere else. Anywhere else. Darris has got me workin' overtime until he can hire a new dishwasher. I don't mind the extra money, but I hate this job. But after listenin' to what you've put up with, scrubbin' a few extra pots doesn't seem so bad."

"Are you gettin' out of the apartment?"

"Sure. I go play cards with Blake and the rest of the gang about twice a week."

"Well, that's somethin', I guess. Better than stayin' inside reading all the time."

"You still don't like my friends?"

"I never have. But better than being a total loner. It isn't good for you. You need to have some people around. Someone to talk to."

"You were really worried about me," Donnan commented, sounding slightly amused.

"Of course. I'm not there to look out for you anymore."

"I can look out for myself."

"Well, I know. But you're still my little brother. I've got to watch out for you, even when I'm not around."

"Thanks. I have kind of missed havin' you around. But I don't miss your snorin'."

He laughed. "No, I guess not. And before you ask, yes, the guys have told me I shake the barracks with my snorin'. I think they're exaggeratin'." They chatted for another fifteen minutes. "I need to get goin' now. Sorry, but I've only got a few hours leave."

"When can we meet again?"

"I'll let you know. Probably not for another couple of weeks, at least. You make sure you've got the day off so you can come to the graduation ceremony," Alain said sternly.

"I wouldn't miss it for anythin'," Donnan replied.

Both stood up and walked out the door. Alain grabbed his little brother in a crushing embrace, then released him.

"Gods," he gasped. "You are definitely gettin' stronger."

"Thanks. Take care of yourself, little brother."

"I will. You take care, and hold your temper."

Alain nodded, and headed back to the western guardhouse.

Donnan went home.

"Excuse me," came a female voice.

It was the next afternoon, and Donnan was out back, taking a break from cleaning the common room by himself.

"Aolani," he said, startled, and immediately got off the crate. He felt acutely embarrassed by his appearance. He was wearing a stained apron to cover his clothes, his face was red from the late summer heat, and his blond hair was damp with perspiration.

In contrast, she was wearing a sun dress in a fetching shade of pink, her hair was up in a bun, and she had a leather bag over one shoulder. She was clean, collected, and didn't even seem to have broken a sweat. If she noticed his embarrassment, she gave no sign of it. "Hello, Donnan. I'm glad I found you."

"You are? Would you like to go inside? It's not very nice back here." There were old crates for food that hadn't been hauled away yet, and it smelled of soap and grease from the kitchen.

She smiled in a reassuring fashion. "I can't stay long. I hope this isn't too rude of me, but can you give your brother a message from me the next time you see him?"

"Sure, sure," he answered, flustered but trying not to show it.

"Thank him for watching out for Kennet. He's apparently run into a bit of trouble with hazing, and says that Alain has been trying to deflect the men doing the hazing. I think that's very noble."

"Yeah, that's Alain. Always lookin' out for the little guy."

"Do let him know that I appreciate it."

"Sure, I'll give him that message."

"Thank you very much," she replied, and turned to walk away.

He mustered his courage. "Aolani," he called.

"Yes?" she answered, stopping.

"This is probably none of my business, but are you still seein' Reese?"

She frowned slightly. "No, I'm not. He was exhibiting very ungentlemanly behaviors, such as starting fights for no good reason."

"I was wonderin' how that turned out. I know; none of my business."

"No, it's alright. I suppose it must have been very odd the way I interrogated your brother. But I should be going now."

"Aolani, wait."

"Yes?"

"Are you-are you seein' someone now?"

She looked a little surprised,and then smiled. "You're sweet. But I am seeing someone. He's a teacher who just came in from Meldon."

"Oh," he replied, crestfallen. "I guess I really embarrassed myself then."

She gave a half-laugh. "Nonsense. I'm not embarrassed that you asked. There's no reason you should be. But I must go. Thank you again for giving my message to your brother. Good day." Then she turned and walked away.

He watched her until she was out of sight. "Well, I got turned down, but she was nice about it. I guess that's the best I can hope for with a beautiful, educated woman like that. At least as long as I'm stuck as just a dishwasher at a shabby little tavern," he thought with a sigh. Then he went back to work.

The days started to crawl by in Nahaar. Eliora was getting more and more nervous regarding her promotion, and she was vaguely troubled by the news that Zeki was courting Ofira. She told her parents the news, but when Adiva offered to talk with her about, she declined. As she finished up the day's work, she heard a knock at the door and jumped slightly.

"Come in," she called, thinking, "It can't be Izak. It's only been a week."

"Hello, Eliora," answered Zeki.

"Oh, good, it's you," she replied with relief.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, sounding a little puzzled.

"It's not that. Well, there is that. No, I was afraid it was Izak coming into tell me I got turned down for promotion."

"That's silly. There's no reason you shouldn't get your promotion. And anyway, Ofira tells me that you've got at least another week before you know anything."

"Oh, Ofira told you about that," she responding, feeling annoyed. "Well, I'm still nervous. This means a lot to my family. The twins just keep growing and growing. You know how boys are at that age."

He smiled. "I may know a little something."

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"I wanted to talk to you. I haven't seen you in nearly a month."

"Alright. You can walk me home." She gathered her things up and they left the Council Hall. "There's not much to say. Did Ofira tell you I'm being courted by Basir?" she asked as soon as they left the din of noise from the bazaar.

"She did. Good for you. He seems like a good man." There was no trace of bitterness or insincerity in his voice.

For some reason, her annoyance intensified. "Yes, he is a good man. We can talk for hours about politics and trade."

"That's good. Honestly, I could never follow you when you starting talking about those things."

"Really? Why didn't you ever say so?"

He shrugged. "It's your job. You talk about what you do."

"Ofira says you don't talk to her about accounting."

He gave Eliora a sharp look, catching the vague accusation in her voice. "Accounting is boring, and I say that as an accountant. I find art fascinating."

"Even when she's going on about the finer points of firing glazes?"

"Yes, even then. Are you alright? You sound a little angry at me."

"No, I'm not angry. I was just really surprised to find out you were courting Ofira," she replied. She was angry, and annoyed at herself for being angry.

"It is that surprising? We've known each other for six years now."

"We've known each other since primary school."

"Well, yes, that's true," he replied, eying her suspiciously. "Are you sure you're not angry?"

"I'm fine. So why did you ask Ofira?"

"I like her. What else can I say? I think she's beautiful, I think what she does is fascinating, she's been a good friend to me, and I think if this works out, she'll make a good wife."

"Oh, I see." She tried to collect her thoughts. "Why am I upset? He seems happy enough with his choice."

"Are you sure you're alright with this?" he asked again.

"Yes, of course." She fiddled with the strap of her bag thoughtfully. "She said you asked about a month ago, now. Was that after our talk?" she asked.

He nodded. "You made some good points. She's a popular woman. I've met her family, and some of her other friends. Some of them are really crazy, but a lot of fun. Apparently she's quite the up and coming talent in the art world of pottery. I'm not the first man to court her."

"I didn't know that," she replied, surprised.

"She's been courted twice before, and both were matches set up by her family. Neither lasted very long. Apparently both wanted her to give up her art career and just settle down to make utilitarian pottery. That was before she started to get noticed in the art world. So you were right to encourage me to just make my move."

"Oh. I see."

"Eliora, what's wrong with you?"

She stopped. "Nothing. Nothing should be wrong. You're happy, she's happy, everything is working out. I'm happy for you both. Really."

"You were never good at lying. Not to me, and not to Ofira. She knew you were upset, and sent me to talk to you." He pulled her into an empty side street. "Talk to me, Eliora. I've known you long enough to know when you're upset."

"No, Zeki, it's stupid. Just stupid."

"Talk to me," he pressed.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship," she replied, looking down.

"Just tell me what's gotten you so upset."

She looked at him with tears in her deep brown eyes. "When I told you to just start courting, I thought-I thought you were going to ask me."

"You did?" he replied, sounding surprised.

"Yes. We've known each other so long, and you said it was a woman you knew, and I thought it was going to be me. And I-I was going to say yes," she finished, stifling a sob.

"Then why did you say yes to Basir?" he asked, startled.

"Because he came out and asked me," she answered, a little more sharply than she intended.

He looked sheepish and sighed. "Yes, well, you do have a point there. But you didn't have to say yes."

"I do like his company, and I thought there'd be no harm in it. I've known many women who were courted by more than one man at a time."

"Gods, Eliora. Why do you have to tell me now?"

"You asked. I told you it was stupid. I want you to be happy. I want Ofira to be happy. But I didn't expect you to ask anyone but me. I thought you liked me."

"I did. I do. But I've been giving you subtle hints for the better part of two years now. You've never done anything or said anything to show me that you reciprocated my feelings for you. Come on, you're flighty. You're not dense."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. But what changed in the past month? I don't understand."

"I've always like Ofira too, as a friend. When Basir joined us, it was clear to me that you were pretty smitten with him. I made some less subtle hints, and you still didn't seem interested, so I considered my other prospects. Then Ofira invited me over to her art studio."

"She what?" Eliora exclaimed.

He sighed. "You weren't there that night. The group had a big argument over art and broke up early. Ofira noticed that I seemed lost during the whole argument, so she offered to show me the conservatory and teach me some basics. We started talking art, then started talking about life in general. We talked until dawn and I realized just how great she is. She's passionate and witty but still practical and pragmatic," he explained with a dreamy look on his face.

"And I'll bet she never forgets anything," she replied glumly.

He snapped back to the present and sighed. "No, not usually. I'm sorry things didn't work out. You never seemed to want anything but friendship."

"I know. This is all my fault. I knew you were interested, but I waited too long to respond."

"No, it's my fault too. I was the one who waited too long. I should have asked you a year ago. I should have been braver. But I wasn't, so I didn't. I've grown to care a lot for Ofira, and I can't court both of you without wrecking all of our friendships." His eyes were preternaturally bright. "I'm sorry. I think I've really messed things up. I really care for you. I-" He stopped himself.

She could read the emotion in his eyes. "We both messed things up. I was too coy, and you were too shy." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Zeki, I think I..."

"Eliora," he warned, cutting her off abruptly. "Don't say it. You can't take those words back. If you say it, I'll have to take back my courtship offer to Ofira, and then a lot of people are going to end up hurting. I don't want that. Do you?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Of course not. But now what do we do? I don't know about you, but I feel terrible," she said, wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks. "I don't like being jealous. I don't like being angry. I don't like feeling stupid."

"I don't know. We probably won't see much of each other over the next few weeks anyway. Maybe we'll both feel better by then."

She nodded. "I'm going home now. Alone."

"I understand." He kissed her gently on the lips, then rushed off.

Feeling stunned, she stood in the alleyway for a minute, then practically raced home. She entered the house and was barely aware of her mother greeting her. She headed straight upstairs, threw herself down on the bed, and let the tears flow freely.

"Eliora?" called Adiva worriedly.

She just kept crying.

Her mother entered her tiny room. "My daughter, what's wrong?" she asked, joining her on the bed to comfort her.

"I'm so stupid, Mother. So stupid," she sobbed. She proceeded to tell her the whole story. By the time she was finished, her tears were exhausted. "I was so stupid. I fell in love with my best friend, and never did one godsdamn thing about it. It can't work out now. It would break up the group, and I don't want to hurt Ofira or Basir."

"I understand," Adiva sighed. "Trust me, you two aren't the only ones who've had this problem."

"I know. I feel so stupid. I do like Basir an awful lot. But the thought of Zeki with someone else just made me so angry and jealous. Then to find out he's courting Ofira? It's like they both betrayed me. But I know they really didn't because he never said anything and I never said anything so they both ended up liking each other and gods now I'm just blathering on and on."

"Quite alright. I'm guessing you're still angry and confused. That's to be expected. Especially when you come to realize you love someone in such a jarring way. Take comfort, though. Your feelings for each other will fade, in time. They will probably fade faster since the both of you seem to be getting attached to someone else."

She sighed. "And when do I stop feeling so stupid?"

"You're too hard on yourself, my daughter. Both of you made mistakes. You're only human. You know what you have to do to salvage your friendship. You do want to salvage it, right?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then spend a few days with your family rather than Basir or your friends. Give yourself some time to calm down. I'm sure Basir will understand. And if he doesn't, then perhaps that's a sign he won't make as good as husband as you deserve."

"Thank you, Mother," she sniffled.

She kissed her daughter on the forehead. "That's what I'm here for. Come now. Dinner should be almost ready, and I'm sure I heard your father come upstairs and change his clothes."

She blew her nose, cleaned up her face, and went downstairs with her mother. The rest of her family didn't ask her why she disappeared, which was fine with her. By the end of the evening, she was feeling a little better.

She found herself at the base of a mountain that was covered with black grit. Smoke was coming out of the top, and the still air was warm. "What? What is this place?" she wondered. The ground shook violently, and she was knocked onto her rear end. When she stood again, the mountain had cracked, and a red-yellow river of lava was flowing straight toward her. She turned to run.

"You don't have to run," came a strange voice.

She whirled around and saw an odd figure standing to her side. It was glowing bright white, human-shaped, but it only seemed to be two dimensional. Trying to determine a gender was impossible, but the voice sounded vaguely female.

"What are you?" she asked, backing away from it and down the mountain.

"You'll find out soon enough. You don't have to run."

"I don't know about you, but I certainly can't survive a lava flow," she replied, watching the menacing, fiery ribbon wind its way down the mountain toward her.

"You can control it."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, frightened. She slid down the gritty slope a couple of feet.

"You control it. That's what you have to do. You can't out-run it, any more than you could out-run the landslide or the fire. You know that."

"How did you know about that?" Eliora demanded. The ground shook again, and she fell to her hands and knees.

"I know. Soon you'll know, too." Then it vanished in a flash.

The ground rumbled again, and a new crack opened directly upslope from her. A new burning river cascaded toward her.

"Oh, please, not again," she whimpered, and was engulfed by lava.

"Aaaah, nooo!" she screamed, sitting straight up in bed. "Oh gods. Oh gods." She was damp with sweat and panting hard. Her body hurt and she felt too warm. She quickly opened a window and stood in the cool night air to calm herself.

"Eliora, are you alright?" came Adiva's voice.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she called, closing the window. "I had a bad dream."

"I guess that's to be expected, given how your day was."

"What? No, it wasn't one of those dreams." She lowered her voice. "It was one of those strange vision dreams."

"Another one? This makes two."

"Three."

"Three?"

"Yes, Mother. I had one about a month ago. Actually, exactly a month ago."

"And that was exactly a month since the solstice. Eliora, go to temple tomorrow morning. Promise me."

"And ask what, Mother?"

"Some sort of guidance. This is very odd, and it worries me. The gods don't send visions without good reason."

"I can't imagine what a god would want with me," Eliora replied. "I'm not anyone important."

"Just go to temple tomorrow morning. Do not forget."

"I won't."

"Good," Adiva replied, looking relieved. "Now, back to bed for the both of us. If you oversleep, you won't have time to go to temple."

"Yes, Mother." Eliora crawled back in bed and Adiva left the room.

Another week passed in Renfrew. It was now exactly one month before the autumn equinox. Donnan was working late in the tavern.

"Dammit, Darris," he thought, scraping dried food out of a pot with vigor. "I'm supposed to meet Blake tonight. Stupid boss. Stupid over time. How hard is it to find another godsdamn dishwasher?" With anger fueling his scrubbing, he finished up only an hour later. He dropped off his apron, and raced to his apartment to change clothes. Then he headed to the Black Goblet, still annoyed at being late.

"Dammit. I hope Blake doesn't come looking for me, or we'll miss each other. I hate it when that happens." He ducked, dodged, and sidled his way around the crowd of people. He had missed the afternoon rush of people getting off work, but now he was caught up in the end of the evening rush of people going out. Normally he kept an eye out for pickpockets and other suspicious characters, but he was so focused on reaching his destination he wasn't paying as much attention as usual. When he escaped the commercial district, he slowed his pace until he just started to reach the seedier part of town. Grateful to be free of the crowd, he paused to catch his breath.

"Hey, you," called a sneering and slightly slurred male voice from right behind him.

He whirled around, his hand going to his dagger, but not drawing it. He was facing three young guardsmen, and he recognized the one who spoke as Reese. While he was almost as tall as the guards, they had a lot of bulk he didn't. "Godsdammit, I'm in some deep trouble now," he thought, taking a step back. "May I help you gentlemen?" he asked as politely as he could.

"You're that skinny dishwasher," said Reese in an accusing tone.

He took another step back, and moved his hand away from his dagger. He knew that the last thing he needed was to actually draw a weapon on a guard. "I am a dishwasher, yes."

"And your brother was a dishwasher too. Until he got into the guard."

"Yes. Is there a problem?" he asked, continuing to cautiously back away.

The guards took a few steps closer to him.

"You wait right here," snapped Reese. "I've got some questions for you." He nodded to the two men with him, and they quickly got behind Donnan, moving surprisingly fast for such large men.

He tried to get his back to a wall. His mind raced. "Is there anyone around? Can I call for help? No, not in this part of town. No one wants the guard to pay attention to them. If I was little farther along, he wouldn't dare try this stunt."

"Now, why did you and your brother lie about that fight to Aolani?"

"What? That was two months ago. What's the problem now?" he snapped, a touch of scorn in his voice.

Reese gave him a shove. "Pay attention, you skinny little nobody. The fight was two months ago, but you two lied to Aolani about a month ago. Why did you do that?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," he retorted, angry and starting to get very nervous. There was a distinct smell of alcohol on the breath of all the guardsmen.

"Of course you do." He shoved Donnan again, this time right into the grip of his friends. "Aolani is the most beautiful woman I know, and she was seeing me. Then she talks to you nobodies, and suddenly she stops seeing me. Says I wasn't being much of a gentleman."

He bit the inside of his mouth to avoid making a smart remark, nervously aware that angering the guards was only going to result in worse injuries.

"She told me she knew I was getting into fights for no good reason. Of course I tried to set her straight, but she said she had gotten the other side of the story. I figure that meant the men I'd fought with. Then I remembered I saw your brother at the guard try-outs, and I saw you sitting next to her. You probably mentioned something after you saw me wave at her. Why in darkness she'd believe you over me I'll never know."

Donnan glared at him, and tried to yank his arms free of the other two guards, who were snickering.

"I'm better looking, I've got a better family, I've got more money. You. You're just a skinny nobody, and your brother's just a bigger version of you. Stupid jackass."

He was still silent, but the two guards had tightened their grip on his arms.

"What? Don't you want to say something in your defense?" he asked haughtily.

He cursed himself for not continuing to work out and practice, but he still said nothing.

"Alright, I was wrong. Your brother is a bigger, dumber version of you. He's so easy to get angry. You just take it. That's smart. Real smart. Or maybe you're both just cowards. What do you think of that?"

Donnan just glared at him, his teeth firmly clamped on the inside of his mouth. Clearly they were drunk enough to go looking for a fight, although they seemed to be clear-headed enough to look for a fight they knew they could win. Still, he hoped that if he was silent they would lose interest.

Reese appeared to be getting frustrated. "Well, answer me, dammit."

"I think it doesn't matter what I say because I'm just goin' to get pummeled," he retorted angrily.

He half-laughed. "You are smart. For a poor, skinny dishwasher, that is." Then he punched him in the stomach.

Donnan's knees gave way, and the other two guards dropped him. He fell to the ground, trying to catch his breath.

Reese grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him up. "You stay away from Aolani. She's too good for the likes of you or that brother of yours," he snapped. He released his grip, and Donnan stumbled backwards, panting heavily. "I don't care if she talks to you, like she did last week. Don't even ask. Don't get near her."

"She can go where she wants," he gasped. "I'm not in charge of her."

"Then don't talk back to her. Don't tell her lies," he shouted. "You're just an upstart dishwasher. You have no right to talk to a lady like her. You have no right to talk to the likes of me. I'm a guard. I'm your better. You need to learn your place."

"And I suppose you're going to teach me?" he hissed.

Reese smiled unpleasantly, and the other two guards snickered. "You catch on quick."

"Of course," he sighed. "Well, if I'm going to get pulped, I might as well get in a good shot," he thought bitterly. With lightning speed, Donnan punched Reese across the jaw. It didn't take long for the ensuing fight to attract attention. A few curious people glanced down the narrow backstreet, but upon seeing the flash of guard armor, they quickly made themselves scarce.

Donnan was on the ground, curled into a ball, and getting kicked from all three guards when he heard a familiar voice.

"Excuse me," called Blake.

The guards looked up. "What do you want? Are you some kind of thief?" demanded Reese.

Blake took off his glasses and cleaned them thoughtfully. He then replaced them before replying. "No, I'm not a thief. Neither is my friend, who you seem to have quite thoroughly beaten."

His tone was quiet, but Donnan knew he was furious.

"Oh, so you're his friend." Reese cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you'd like to come help him out."

"I fully intend to help him out, but I have no intention of getting drawn into a fight with a bunch of drunken thugs thinly disguised by guard armor."

Reese and the two guards started to march angrily toward Blake. "You can't talk to us like that," he snapped.

"Are the three of you so stupid you're actually going to get into a fight with an acolyte of the Temple of Night?" Blake hissed.

The three guards stopped. "You're not really an acolyte," accused Reese, but he was clearly uncertain.

He smiled an ugly smile, then switched to the Dark language, the language of all those that followed the Dark One. "Praise to the Dark One, god of vengeance and retribution. To those that cross the Dark Order, revenge will come as swiftly and terribly as a thunderstorm." The words were harsh and guttural.

The three guards glanced at each other. "We'll be going now," said Reese. They walked back down the street. "Our business is finished," he half-laughed, giving Donnan a final kick.

Blake waited until they were gone, then rushed to the body of his friend. "Good gods, what happened?"

Donnan slowly sat up. He could taste blood in his mouth and feel it drying on his face. Every muscle in his body ached. "They wanted someone to beat up on. They found me." He speech sounded slurred and his ears were roaring.

"Good gods!" he exclaimed again, looking at his friend's face. "They were winning, I see."

"It was three to one. Bastards. Did I at least bloody up Reese's pretty face?"

"Yes, yes you did. Can you stand? I've got to get you to the temple."

"I can't go there."

"Trust me, you better. You need medical treatment."

"It's not that bad. I can sort of see out of one eye," he replied. His vision was blurry, however. "I've got no money to pay for treatment."

The acolyte shook his head. "I'll cover it."

"I must be in bad shape," he muttered, trying to stand. He managed to get to his feet, but his ears were roaring. It hurt to draw breath and his lungs felt like they were on fire. "I'm not going to make it, Blake. I feel sick."

"You better, dammit." His voice was full of concern and just a touch of panic. He put Donnan's arm over his shoulder and started to drag him forward.

"Oh, let me rest for a minute more," he mumbled vaguely. He tried to fall down, but Blake held him up. Slow realization was starting to dawn in his hazy thoughts that something was terribly wrong.

"Donnan, you listen to me," Blake ordered sternly. "We need to get you to the temple. You are in very bad shape." He started to pull him forward.

"How bad?" he murmured, determined to pay attention. The panic evident in Blake's voice was penetrating his fog of pain.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked as they slowly lurched forward.

"Do I?"

"No, but I'll tell you. Just stay awake. You got that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, I'd say you got them really angry. Both eyes are blackened, your lip is split, and I think your nose is broken."

"Great. I'm not goin' to impress any girls now," he replied slowly.

"We'll do what we can. I'm worried about the possible concussion, and I think some of your ribs are broken."

"That's why it hurts to breathe," he muttered.

"I also think there's internal bleedin'."

"That's real bad, isn't it?"

"Yes, good, you are payin' attention," Blake replied. He hauled him five blocks until they reached a tavern. Donnan drifting in and out of consciousness. The acolyte offered money for help, and soon four strong men were carrying Donnan on a crude stretcher toward the Temple of Night.

"Oh, no, not again," he snapped. He was standing on a beach, and the waves were lapping at his feet. It was cold, and there was a storm coming in off the ocean. The thick, black clouds were quickly blotting out the sunlight. "What in darkness is going on here?" he yelled to the world in general. He stared at the incoming storm, debating whether or not he should bother running. With the high wind it didn't take long for the dark clouds to cover the sky. He took a few steps back from the increasingly larger waves.

"Are you going to run again?" came a strange voice from behind him.

He whirled around. There was a black, human-shaped figure standing there. It seemed to be made of Darkness, and there was no way to tell what its gender was, but the voice sounded vaguely male. "Who in darkness are you?"

"Are you going to run again?" it repeated.

"Well, that would be the smart thing to do," he snapped in irritation. The waves were still growing in size.

"Sure. Run. Just like you did before. From the avalanche. From the twister. And now from the hurricane," it taunted.

"How did you know about that?"

"I know. And I know you can't run from the hurricane. You know it too."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Stand here and just get clobbered by another storm?" he demanded.

"No, that would be stupid."

"Then what do you suggest?" He glanced behind him and saw the storm was moving toward the beach at an unnaturally swift pace.

"Control it."

"What? No one can do that. What in darkness do you know anyway? What are you?" Donnan snapped, steadily backing away from the beach, but avoiding the strange shadowy figure. It didn't even seem to be three-dimensional.

"I know more than you. I know what I am. Soon you will too." Then it laughed, and seemed to sink into the shadows.

The roar of the storm filled his ears. He whirled around and saw a wave towering over him. "Oh, gods damn it," he muttered. The storm surge crashed down on top of him, enveloping him in salty water and darkness.

"Nooo!" he screamed, and sat bolt upright. He was damp with sweat, and panting heavily.

"Aahh!" Blake shouted in surprise. "You're awake. Thank the gods."

He shook his head, fighting down panic, and took a mental inventory. He realized he was in clean clothes, lying on a bed in Blake's room.

"Are you alright? Gods, you're pale." He was sitting in a chair near the bed. Next to the bed was a small table with an oil lamp burning on low.

He looked up and realized that he could see out of both eyes. He felt exhausted, but wasn't in pain. "Am I in the Temple of Night?"

Blake nodded. "I got you here as fast as I could. I was right about the concussion and internal bleedin'. It seems one of your broken ribs punctured a lung. And that's only your more severe injuries. But maybe I shouldn't say too much just now."

He just stared at his friend for a few moments. "And I'm fine now?"

"Absolutely. Every thing's been healed, down to the split lip." He handed him a small hand mirror. "See for yourself. I can't even tell your nose got broken."

Donnan took the offered mirror and held it up. "You're right. Damn, you wouldn't even know I was in a fight." Suddenly a strange, shadowy image in the mirror caught his eye. He stared at it, but then it was gone. He quickly handed the mirror back to Blake. "I need to go home. I need to go to work. What time is it?"

"Relax. It's a couple of hours before dawn. You can stay here and just borrow some of my clothes for tomorrow. I'll wake you up in time to get to work."

"I'm not sure I want to stay here."

"It'll be fine. The other priests won't bother us at all."

"Did I take your room?" Donnan asked.

"Well, my bed, at any rate. I don't mind. Just know that you owe me," he replied with a smile.

He frowned. "That's a good point. How much do I owe you?"

"I'm mostly kiddin'. Just because I'm a Dark priest doesn't mean I can't help my friends out. Anyway, it's not me you owe the most to."

"Who is it?"

"The Dark One."

"What?"

"Well, see, that's how we get our powers. We ask the Dark One. Sometimes It answers. Sometimes not. I prayed that you would recover, and It gave me the power to heal you."

"Great, so you got the Dark One to heal me. That's wonderful. There's a nice thing to live with."

"Dammit, Donnan, don't be ungrateful," he snapped. "You were going to die without treatment. Do you understand me? You were going to die. Your lung was punctured. You were drowning in your own blood."

Stunned, his jaw dropped open. "I was really dying?" he stuttered in a small voice.

Blake leaned back in the chair. "Well, you wouldn't have expired within a few minutes, but you probably would have been dead by dawn without treatment. Assumin' I could find out about a Healer who could help you, I couldn't possibly have fetched one in time, and they probably wouldn't have been available anyway. I had no idea you were injured so badly until I started the healing process. Gods, you had me worried there."

"I'm sorry. I guess I owe you my life."

"Well, don't mention it. You should probably go back to sleep. You need your rest and we can talk more in the mornin'."

"There's more?" he blurted, surprised.

"It's not important right now, and it may not be important in the morning. Now go to sleep." He yawned. "I know I'd really like to go back to sleep."

Donnan lay back down. "Alright." His mind was in turmoil, but his body was exhausted, and soon he slept.

Eliora did go to the Temple of Day the next morning. There were no services, but there were a few people in the building saying their own private prayers for the day. She only stayed for about ten minutes, then went to work. When she got home, she had forgotten about both the dream and praying.

"Meorah, Oriel, finish up dinner. I need to talk to Eliora," Adiva said as soon as she entered the house. "Let's go up to your room."

She nodded, and they both went upstairs.

Adiva lowered her voice. "Did you go to temple?"

"Yes, Mother."

"You look a little stunned. Or are you just tired?"

"I worked very hard today. I am tired. And confused."

"Well, what did you pray for?"

"I prayed to the Light One to give me some sort of hint, some insight, as to why I was receiving these visions." She looked at her mother with wide, frightened eyes. "It answered. The god answered me."

"What did It say?"

"I heard it, in my mind. It said just one word. 'Wait.'"

"Wait? Wait for what? Wait for how long?" Adiva pressed.

Eliora shook her head. "I don't know. Mother, I'm scared," she whispered.

She hugged her daughter. "I am too. But we'll work through whatever comes."

"I'm so glad to have such a great family and great friends."

"Yes. Tell no one of this."

"Of course not. Not until I find out what's going on. I guess I shouldn't worry too much. I got a reply from the Light One. How bad could it be?" Eliora pondered.

"My daughter, that's a dangerous assumption to make. What's good for the gods is not necessarily good for the individual. Remember, the Light One calls people into service. Do you want to be a priestess?"

"I see your point," she replied, suddenly feeling a lot more apprehensive.

"Let's get dinner, speak no more of this, and hope for the best."

She nodded.

"Donnan, time to get up," came Blake's voice the next morning.

He sat up with a start. "Oh, right. And I was hopin' last night was a bad dream." Then he remembered his dream. "Never mind that. I don't want bad dreams either."

"I scrounged some toast and jam for you," he said, handing him a small plate.

"Tell me there's also coffee. Please."

Blake handed him a ceramic mug. "Coffee too."

He ate his breakfast quickly and gulped down the coffee. "Hey, this is good stuff."

"Of course it is."

Donnan stood up and stretched. "Gods, am I stiff."

"Don't complain. You got the bed. I had to sleep in that chair all night."

He looked around. "You know, I've never seen your room before." In addition to the soft bed, bedside table, oil lamp, and comfortable looking chair, there was a small bookshelf, a small desk, a small chest of drawers, and a small closet. "This is a lot nicer than my place. It's about as big as the main room, and you have a real closet. Damn."

"Believe me, I've seen better. But I'm not complaining," he replied, retrieving some clothes from the closet. "Your own boots are fine, but the rest of your clothes were a mess. Ripped and bloodied. I don't think those stains are ever coming out."

"More good news." Donnan glanced at Blake, who was changing his own clothes. He shrugged to himself and started to disrobe. "There's nothing I can do about this, is there? That drunken jackass and his moron friends almost kill me, and there's not a godsdamn thing I can do about this, is there?"

"I'm sorry. There were no witnesses."

"I'm sure I heard some else before you came along."

Blake sighed. "We both know better. There won't be any witnesses, not for that part of town. There's me, but my word isn't worth much. They could make up some lame excuse. And more to the point, there's no evidence you were attacked. No broken bones; nothing but ripped and bloodied clothes. There's not a single mark on you."

"Yes, there is," Donnan corrected, stopping in the middle of pulling on a blue button up shirt. He was looking at his left wrist. It bore a scar, a white line about an eighth of an inch wide and three inches long. "Blake, what is this?"

The acolyte sighed. "I've got one too." He pushed up his right sleeve, and there was a matching scar on his wrist.

"Where did this come from?"

"When I told you the Dark One gave me to the power to heal you, this was both true and false."

"Blake, what is this?" he repeated more sternly.

"The Dark One put a spell in my head. A ritual. An ancient and probably forbidden ritual," he answered, his voice dropping in volume.

Donnan walked up to him as he finished dressing. "Blake, I'm only goin' to ask one more time. What is this?"

"The remnant of a healing ritual called the Rite of Blood."

"The what?" he hissed.

"Don't make me repeat it," Blake replied, closing the closet door.

"This was blood magic?"

"Keep your voice down."

"I am keepin' my voice down," he whispered angrily.

"Yes, it's blood magic. I cut the wrists, mingled our blood, and used my own life energy to heal you."

He stared. "You did that for me? Used forbidden magic and your own blood?"

Blake nodded. "You owe me. Remember that," he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

"Why?"

"Why? That's a stupid question. Now come on, I'll walk you to work." They headed out of the temple.

"It's not a stupid question. I thought only Alain would do somethin' like that for me."

"Well, now you know better." He sighed. "Look, since you're determined to get emotional over this, I might as well tell you this now. Our friendship has meant a lot to me. When I joined the Order, I was surprised how many of my friends disappeared. Some have come back, but most keep their distance. It's amazin' how many people prefer the company of a pickpocket over the company of a priest."

"Well, you know what they say."

"I know. 'A thief can only take your money; a Dark priest can take your soul.' Which is, of course, utter nonsense." He sighed again. "You seemed to take it better. You still treat me like a friend. I know you don't like what I do, but I think you accept the existence and need for the Order of Darkness better than most."

"I guess so. I just try not to think about it," Donnan replied.

"Good enough for me. Better than most people."

"Thanks, Blake. I owe you."

"And don't you dare forget it."

"If I repay my debt to you, is that going to be enough for the Dark One?" he asked, lowering his voice cautiously.

"That's not for me to say. The Dark One will let you know if It desires repayment."

"But you've told me the Dark One never does anythin' without a reason."

"That's true, as far as the Order knows. So what? So you have to light some candles or something."

"But Blake, you've also told me that repayment depends on how big the service was, right?"

"Usually," the acolyte answered.

His voice dropped even lower, and Blake had to lean in to hear him. "It helped you save my life. That's about as big a service as they come. Doesn't that bother you?"

"What? That you have a debt?"

"No, not exactly," he replied worriedly. He stopped and pulled Blake into an alleyway. "Look, I'm a nobody, alright? I'm nothin' to nobody except Alain and you. So why did the Dark One decide to save the life of a nobody? I can't think of any reason except that It will want somethin' big from me. And that bothers me."

"I can see your point. Maybe you'll be called into service. That's not uncommon."

"I don't want to be called into service," he retorted harshly.

"Thanks," he snapped bitterly.

"No, it's not like that. Look, I respect the Order. You're right, I do understand why they do what they do. It's just not what I want. I don't mind owin' you my life. I don't like owin' my life to a god. Especially with these damn dreams."

"Dreams? You've had more dreams? Tell me."

Donnan started walking again at a swift pace that reflected his frustration. "I had one last night. And one a month ago. And the one I told you about, on the solstice."

"Wait, wait. You've had a dream at the same time every month starting on the solstice?"

He nodded. "The first one I was runnin' from an avalanche, and it caught me. The second I was runnin' from a twister, and it caught me. Last night I faced off against a hurricane. But it was weird. There was this thing in my dream. This shadow thing. It was tauntin' me. Heh. Even in my dreams I'm being bullied. It melted, or somethin', and then I got caught by the hurricane."

"And it felt real?" Blake asked.

"Every time. I felt the wind and the rain."

"Donnan, please let me ask at the temple."

"No," he replied firmly.

"Please. This is very strange. You know it, or you wouldn't be so agitated right now just telling me about it."

"Don't ask. Just don't."

"Why not?"

Donnan stopped again in the middle of the street. "Because I'm not sure I want an answer."

He nodded. "I understand." They started to walk again. "But I'll tell you this: if these dreams are a sign from a god, then the god will give you an answer whether you want it or not."

"I know," he sighed. "So how did you find me last night?"

"You were late, so I was sent out to find you. I know the route you normally take, so I was back-tracking. I noticed some of the denizens were talking about a fight with the guards, and walkin' rather quickly away from a particular alley. I decided to investigate. Call it morbid curiosity. I didn't think it was you, of course, even though the thought crossed my mind."

"What did you say to them? I couldn't understand it."

"An invocation for revenge in the Dark language. Rather appropriate, given the circumstances."

Donnan nodded. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied ruefully. "I can't tell Alain. Well, I could tell him Reese and his lackeys hassled me, and maybe even tell him I was in a fight, but I don't think I can tell him they almost killed me. He would go after Reese, and then he'd get thrown out of the guard. I can't let that happen."

"Good man."

"But gods, I wish I could get back at him. He's a right bastard, and no one's goin' to touch him. He can do whatever he wants. There's no justice."

"We'll see. I was dead serious about the invocation for revenge," Blake replied.

"You're a scary man."

"Thanks."

"I'm not sure I was givin' you a compliment."

"I know." Blake then changed the subject to plans for the evening. He dropped Donnan off at the tavern, on time, then went about his business.

Eliora was on tenterhooks waiting for word regarding her promotion. The immediate threat of failure overshadowed the disturbing implications of the answer to her prayer. Within a few days, she had forgotten about it completely as she increased her focus on her work. Two long weeks passed, and she was getting nervous. She was packing to go home for the day when there came a knock at her door. She jumped.

"Come in," she called.

Izak walked in.

She tried to judge if the news was good or bad from his face, but his expression was wooden. "Well?"

"We've finished our deliberations." He paused.

She was practically humming with anticipation. "Come on, come on, tell me."

He now looked amused. "Congratulations. You've been promoted to 3rd Rank Scribe."

"Really? You mean it?" she squealed excitedly.

"Of course."

"This is great! My family is going to be so proud of me."

"Well, remember, this means you'll have new responsibilities. You'll be doing more recording and less transcribing. I'll also be sending you to more important meetings."

"I know. I'm looking forward to it."

"Good. Now go home. Tell your family before you explode from excitement," he said with a smile.

"Thanks, Izak. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me. You've earned it. When you focus, you really are one of the best scribes I have."

"Now you've really made my day," she replied, grinning. "I'll see you tomorrow." She got jostled a bit more than usual in her haste to escape the bazaar, but she managed to make it to her house in one piece and a little earlier than usual. "Mother," she called, entering.

"What is it, my daughter?" Adiva then smiled. "You got the promotion."

"Yes, I did. Isn't that great?"

"Congratulations. I assume you want to tell us all over dinner, and then run out to tell your friends?" she asked with a smile.

"Does that mean I have permission to go?"

She nodded. "I'm not sure I could hold you back. But you must help me finish up dinner."

"Yes, Mother," she replied. Soon dinner was finished, the rest of her family home, and she excitedly shared the news. She received many congratulations and there was an animated discussion on how it would benefit the family. When dinner was over, she gave Adiva a questioning look.

"Go. Find your friends. Don't worry about cleaning up."

"Thank you, Mother," she replied, and dashed out of the door. She had already walked several blocks before she stopped to think about where she was going. Realizing she was on her way to the coffeehouse, and kept walking. She found some of her friends there, but not Basir, Zeki, or Ofira. After a lengthy conversation, she set out to Basir's house.

She checked to see if any lights were on and knocked.

After a moment, he opened the door. "Hello, Eliora. To what do I owe this honor?"

She smiled. "I got the promotion," she exclaimed.

"That's great news," he agreed. "Come in, come in," he offered.

"I shouldn't stay too long," she replied, entering. "Most of the usual crowd was at the coffeehouse, but I also didn't find Zeki or Ofira." She paused. "Then again, maybe I don't want to find them right now."

A slight frown crossed his face. "Have a seat."

His house was much like the others: small, two stories, and jammed against the adjacent houses. The cushions were old, but of good quality, and it was kept fairly clean.

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked.

"Please."

He went into the kitchen and brewed some coffee. He cleared out a space in the center of the room, brought out a tray, and sat across from her. "May I be blunt?"

"Go ahead."

"This will please my family."

"And?"

"They will probably ask me when I plan to move to the next phase of courtship. I'd like to tell them I already have."

She thought about this for a moment. "May I be blunt?

"Please."

If I hadn't gotten the promotion, would you still be asking?" she asked.

He paused. "That is blunt. And insulting."

"I'm sorry. But we both know how common it is for a man to abruptly cease courtship if the woman fails to prove herself worthy of his attention. Failing to achieve promotion could easily be taken as being unworthy of a husband."

He gave this some thought. "Eliora, I like you very much. If you didn't receive promotion, I would be angry. Not because you failed to prove your worth, but because your superiors failed to recognize it. You work very hard, and you do good work." He smiled a little. "And I think you're brilliant."

She blushed. "Really? I think I just have a good memory. And that's all that's required for my job."

"You absorb almost everything you record. I've never met anyone who assimilated as much information as you do. I honestly think you could go into politics because of the understanding you demonstrate of the political system."

Her blush deepened.

"So, promotion or not, I would not cease courtship. I have no doubt that you would overcome such a setback."

"Thank you."

"I'm just being honest. I do like you very much. You're intelligent, you're cheerful, and I can talk to about my work. Most people find it boring."

She smiled. "I never have. I like learning how the merchants conduct their business."

He reached over and took her hand in his. "I'm glad you came to tell me the good news first."

"Well, right after my family, and the people at the coffeehouse, but that's because I was hoping I'd find you there," she stuttered, a little surprised at the gesture of affection.

He gave a small laugh. "I'm glad you tried to come tell me first, after your family."

"You are the one courting me."

"I know that. But it doesn't mean I'd be the first one you'd turn to with news, good or bad."

She stared down at her cup. "Have you been talking to Zeki or Ofira?"

"No. But I have been paying attention. You've been friends with Zeki for a long time. I've known you for about six months now. That's nothing compared to the years you two have shared. I must confess, I wondering if there was something between you two."

She sighed. "Are you asking me to tell you what was going on?"

He took a thoughtful sip. "You tell me only what you want to tell me."

She looked up at him with a grateful smile. "You are such a good man."

"Not really. I'm only noble so that I can make you smile."

She drained her cup. "Zeki and I share feelings for each other," she said finally.

"But you allowed me to court you, and he's courting Ofira."

"Yes. I do genuinely like you. He genuinely likes Ofira."

He waited patiently.

"We did talk a couple of weeks ago, and I think we said what we needed to say, hopefully without ruining our friendship or jeopardizing our courtships. I think the situation has been dealt with."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to lose him as a friend. Or Ofira. Or me."

She smiled.

"You look so beautiful when you do that."

She blushed again.

"Are you done?"

She nodded, and he took the tray away. When he returned to the living room, he sat down next to her.

"Can we move to the next phase of courtship?" he asked.

"I think I would like that," she replied.

He leaned over and kissed her. They held it for a moment, then pulled back.

"That was nice," she commented, with a giggle in her voice.

"Yes, I think so," he replied, and kissed her again.

After a few minutes, she pulled back again. "I'd better get home," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, probably so. No doubt my mother will hear you visited me, and if you stay too long, there may be uncomfortable questions."

"I know," she replied, looking disappointed. "But times are changing."

"Too slowly," he muttered.

She smiled and stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, and let you know what days will be good for my parents to host a dinner party for yours."

He opened the door for her. "Goodnight, Eliora," he said, kissing the back of her hand.

"Goodnight, Basir," she returned, and kissed him on the cheek. She did not go straight home. She went first to Zeki's house.

There was a light on, and she listened at the door for the murmur of voices. It was quiet.

"I need to make sure this is settled," she thought, plucking up her courage. She knocked.

In a few moments, Zeki opened the door, looking surprised.

"Eliora? You're here awfully late. Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not. Can I come in for a few minutes?"

"Yes, please."

He appeared to have been finishing up some paperwork in the living room.

"What brings you here at this hour?" he asked.

"I tried to find you and Ofira at the coffeehouse earlier, but you weren't there. I got promoted."

"That's great. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

He waited a moment. "Talk to me. You have more on your mind than that promotion. We haven't talked in two weeks."

"Basir and I have moved to the next phase of courtship."

"You did?" he stammered, looking a little stunned. "That's great too. Really great," he replied, but didn't sound entirely enthusiastic. He stood there for a few moments, just blinking.

"Zeki, are we really both alright with this situation?" she asked.

"Is that why you really came to see me?"

She nodded.

"I think we can both try."

"I think I can agree to that."

"And I really am glad you and Basir are moving forward. I honestly hope it works out for you."

"Thank you, Zeki. I hope things work out for you and Ofira as well. I really do. And I hope we can stay friends. We've known each other for too long."

"I agree." He smiled wanly. "Now someone else can help you remember things."

"And now someone else can cheer you up when you get depressed," she teased.

"You'd probably better go, while we're both in a good mood."

She nodded. "It will be alright again. I'm sure of it."

"Well, now that you've set your mind to it, I'm sure it will happen. Goodnight, Eliora."

"Goodnight, Zeki," she returned, and went home. She spent more than two hours discussing plans with her parents. She went to bed, feeling excited and only a little bit sad. "It will be alright again," she thought firmly, then relaxed and fell asleep.

Donnan managed to meet with Alain about two weeks later at the Golden Flagon. His brother had again chosen a table in the back, well away from the windows.

"Hey, little brother," he said cheerfully, but it was clear he wasn't in a good mood.

"You're almost done."

"I know," he replied glumly. "Gods, and I'm glad for it. Reese got into a fight a couple of weeks ago, and rumor says he actually got in trouble for it. I know he got into a fight. He had two black eyes and got his pretty face all bruised up. But I figure rumors about him gettin' in trouble are right, 'cause he's been an even bigger jackass lately."

"He keeps that up, and he'll get in trouble again," he replied, suddenly wondering if Blake's request for vengeance was being answered.

"I can only hope. I feel real sorry for the little guys. I can take the cheap shots. They can't."

"That reminds me, I was visited by Aolani a few weeks ago. She wanted me to thank you for her for takin' care of her little brother, Kennet."

"Oh, him." Alain looked surprised. "The wiry redheaded kid. No need to thank me. He's goin' to be a tough, scrappy fighter when he's done."

"Well, I'm just deliverin' the message."

"So Aolani talked to you 'cause of me. Don't say I never did anythin' for you," he said with a smile.

Donnan just shook his head. "You're right. I got no chance."

"What's wrong with you?"

"I've been wonderin' if I should tell you. I guess you should know, but you've got to promise you won't do anythin'. You promise you'll finish out your trainin' and graduate."

"Alright, I promise, but I'm real confused."

He sighed and lowered his voice. "That fight Reese got into, that was with me."

"With you?" he exclaimed.

"Shut up," he hissed.

"Sorry. With you? When, where?" the older man asked in a loud whisper.

"'Bout two weeks ago. I was headed over to meet with the gang, and him and two of his stupid friends cornered me. They'd been drinkin'. I figured since I was goin' to end up fightin' them, I'd get in the first shot. I mostly hit Reese. Figured he deserved it most."

"Godsdamn, little brother, are you crazy? Three to one? They could've killed you."

"Well, they didn't," he replied with a very black look on his face.

Without realizing it, Alain leaned back a little. He'd never seen his brother so angry, and it was somehow frightening. "Well, you don't look hurt too bad."

"Blake rescued me. He was lookin' for me, and broke up the fight. They didn't want to fight with a Dark priest."

"Well, now you thank Blake for me. I guess I shouldn't be so hard on the guy."

"He's a better friend than I thought."

"He probably saved your life. Damn, fightin' three armed guards." He ran took a long drink. "Well, I'm glad you came out of that alright. If he'd hurt you too bad, guard be damned, I'd beat him into a pulp."

"I know that."

"I might anyway."

"But you just promised you'd finish."

"I did," Alain nodded. "And I don't break promises." There was an awkward pause. "So, you had any luck findin' a new job?"

"Not yet, but I'm still lookin'."

"You'll find somethin' soon."

"I don't know. I don't have a lot of useful skills. I don't want another stupid dishwashin' job."

"You've got to have faith. Things will work out all right."

"Why do you think that?" he snapped.

"What?" he stammered, nonplussed.

"Nothin' has ever worked right for us."

"I'm goin' to be a guard," Alain replied mildly.

"Yeah, but that's not workin' right. We don't get the breaks. When good stuff happens to us, somethin' bad always happens too. You get into guard, Reese makes your life miserable. I talk to a beautiful woman, and I get beaten up by her jealous, drunk, stupid former suitor."

They stared into their drinks for a few minutes.

"It isn't fair, little brother. I don't think it's ever goin' to be."

Donnan sighed. "I know. And bein' angry doesn't help."

"Bein' angry and not doing anythin' doesn't help."

"What can I do? I got no money, no rank, no formal education, and no power."

"Well, I don't know. But when I figure somethin' out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, we've just got to make due. We aren't starvin'. We got clothes and a place to sleep. You've even got some books. We're doin' fine, little brother. And when I finish basic, we'll be doin' better."

He sighed again. "You're right."

"Sure I am. Now, let's eat. It's good stuff."

The spring equinox dawned bright and hot in Nahaar.

"Eliora, time to get up," called Adiva.

Eliora did not get up, nor seem to hear her mother's call. After a few minutes, Adiva knocked on the door to her room.

"Daughter, you can't sleep late. Now wake up."

She moaned and turned over in bed. Even though the nights and early mornings were cold, all the covers had been kicked off the bed. She was soaked in sweat. "I don't feel well," she groaned. "Gods, it's so hot."

"That's enough, Eliora," came Adiva's voice sternly. She opened the door. "It's past time to get up. Breakfast is ready now."

She opened her eyes, but they wouldn't focus. "Mother, I think I'm sick."

Adiva went down to the bed. "Gods, you're burning up with fever," she exclaimed worriedly.

"I'm so hot," she murmured, the words strangely muzzy.

"I'm going to fetch a Healer or a cleric."

"Healer?" she repeated. "I don't feel good."

Adiva was already down the stairs. In a few moments, Meorah rushed up the stairs with a cool compress and a cup of water. Oriel quickly followed with a fan.

"Sister, can you hear me?" asked Meorah.

Eliora opened her eyes again, but the shapes were fuzzy. "What?"

"This is bad," remarked Oriel, fanning her sister.

Meorah pressed the compress against her forehead and tried to lift her up. "You need to drink."

The sudden movement caused her to pass out. She came to some time later. Groaning, she tried to open her eyes. A voice she didn't recognize told her to just lie still. "Where is Mother?" she asked.

"Hush, now," came the unfamiliar female voice. "You're in the Temple of Light. Do you understand?"

She succeeded in opening her eyes, and found herself staring at an old woman with white hair who was wearing priestess robes. "Matriarch?" she stuttered, surprise penetrating her fever-induced delirium.

"Yes, child."

"Mother? Where is she? Where are my sisters?" she demanded. She tried to sit up, but the effort only caused her to pass out again. She fell into strange dreams of fire and tumbling rocks.

The fall equinox came to Renfrew, and Donnan found he couldn't get out of bed.

"I've got to get to work," he thought, shivering violently. Hearing his teeth chatter, he reached under the bed, pulled out the spare blankets, and bundled them around himself. "Not today. Gods, I'm so cold." He drifted into a trouble sleep until a knock on the door woke him up. Groaning, he wrapped himself in blankets and unlocked the door. "Blake? What're you doin' here?"

"Gods, you're pale. And you're cold?"

"I'm goin' to bed. What are you doin' here again?" he asked, feeling light-headed.

The acolyte looked uncomfortable. "I think you need to see a Healer."

"I'll be fine," he muttered, and stumbled back into the lower bed. "Just need to sleep."

Blake said something in the Dark language, and he became aware of others in his room.

"What's happenin'? Who's in my room?" he demanded, rolling over. The sudden movement caused him to pass out. He fell into strange dreams of water and wind.

Eliora found herself on a strange, glassy plain at the foot of a large volcano. There was no smoke nor rumbling coming from the mountain. The sun blazed brightly overhead, causing her to squint as light reflected off the shiny, black rock. It was hot and the air was perfectly still.

"Welcome back," came that odd voice.

She whirled around and stared at the strange, bright creature. "What are you? Why am I here?"

"You were told to wait, were you not?"

"Wait?" she repeated.

"You prayed, and you were told to wait."

"Yes. I remember now." Her eyes grew wide with fear. "You-you mean this is the answer?"

It nodded. "I am part of you, a representative of a touch of Divinity that is in your own soul."

"I don't understand."

"You have been Chosen to be the first of the Avatars of the Light One."

"Avatar?" she repeated, stunned. "What are you talking about?"

"Long have the gods fought each other, and much was destroyed. They still fight, but now humans have been Chosen to decide who is stronger. You fight for the Light. The Dark One has Chosen Its own Avatar."

"What does that mean? What do I do?" she cried.

"Defeat the Darkness. Both of you will be given enough power to achieve this. You have been endowed with greater arcane ability than a sorcerer. You have been given control over the elements of fire and ground. As you are now part of the Light, you can travel with the light. And you get one more gift."

Her jaw fell open. Her voice froze in her throat as she tried to assimilate what she was being told.

The strange creature held out a hand, and the black glass she was standing on began to move. It flowed over her feet and started to wind up her body.

"What is this? Stop it, stop it!" she shrieked, panicked.

"This is part of the process."

"Oh god, oh god," she gasped, as the viscous stone encased her legs.

"You are being given a suit of armor that will protect you from all mortal weapons. Beware, for the weapons of the Dark Avatar are not mortal."

She was covered in the black stone up to her neck now and nearly hyperventilating.

"This is called the Armor of Obsidian. When it is finished, the transformation will be complete. In one year's time, one Avatar will emerge victorious."

The stone climbed over her head, covering her entire body. Heat seared her, the ground rumbled beneath her, but to her surprise the fear drained away, replaced by hope, compassion, and happiness.

"AWAKEN, MY LIGHTBEARER," said the voice of the Light One.

Donnan found himself in a frozen wasteland. Bitterly cold wind howled through towering glaciers. Sunlight glittered in the ice, but he was standing in shadow.

"Are you going to listen now?" sneered that odd voice.

He jerked around, and saw the strange, black creature standing behind him. "What in darkness is goin' on?"

"Don't you understand yet? Honestly. This is what all those dreams were about. This is why the Dark One saved your wretched life. This is why you didn't want your friend to ask the god directly for an answer."

The color drained from his face. "What do you know? Tell me," he demanded.

It nodded. "I am part of you, a representative of a touch of Divinity that is in your own soul."

"What does that mean?"

"You have been Chosen to be the first of the Avatars of the Dark One."

"Avatar? What's an Avatar?" he asked blankly.

"Long have the gods fought each other, and much was destroyed. They still fight, but now humans have been Chosen to decide who is stronger. You fight for the Darkness. The Light One has Chosen Its own Avatar."

"Fight for the Darkness? I don't want to do that."

"You don't have a choice," snapped the creature. "You were Chosen, and you will do this."

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to do," he protested.

"Defeat the Light. Both of you will be given enough power to achieve this. You have been endowed with greater arcane ability than a sorcerer. You have been given control over the elements of wind and water. As you are now part of the Darkness, you can travel with the Shadows. And you get one more gift.

It raised a hand, and the ice he was standing on started to move and grow upwards, trapping him in a cocoon of ice.

"Stop this! Damn you, stop this," he growled, trying to break free of the ice.

"Fighting is useless. This is part of the process."

"Well, I don't want it," he snapped, but his legs were covered and it was rapidly growing up his torso.

"You are being given a suit of armor that will protect you from all mortal weapons. Beware, for the weapons of the Light Avatar are not mortal."

"Damn it, damn it," he swore, craning his neck to keep it out of the reach of ice.

"This is called the Armor of Ice. When it is finished, the transformation will be complete. In one year's time, one Avatar will emerge victorious."

The ice climbed over his head, covering his entire body. Waves crashed into him, the wind bit into him, and his fear was increased and joined by despair, anger, and sadness.

"AWAKEN, MY SHADOWWALKER," said the voice of the Dark One.

Eliora awoke to a woman's scream. After a moment, she realized it was her own. She sat straight up and opened her eyes. It took her a moment to focus, but she seemed to be a bedroom.

"Child, are you alright?" came the voice of an elderly woman.

"Matriarch?" she asked.

"Yes, child." The head of the Order of Light in Shrimah was an ancient woman, short and wrinkled with completely white hair, but her dark brown eyes were still sharp and there was a quiet power in her voice. "You have awakened at last. We were worried your fever would not break."

"Fever? I was sick? Something happened. Something strange happened."

"I can see that. What are you wearing?" the old woman asked.

"Robes. No, wait." She looked down at herself. She was wearing a white, full body suit of armor made of small, tight links, far finer than any human could make. It was banded with gold and she had a gold circlet around her head. She jumped out of bed. "A mirror. I need a mirror."

The Matriarch gestured to a waiting priestess, and they brought over a full length mirror.

She stared at her reflection. "What's wrong with my eyes?" she wailed. They were completely white.

"What do you remember?" the Matriarch asked.

"I was dreaming again. I was talking to this creature, made of Light. It told me I was the Avatar of the Light One. It said this was the Armor of Obsidian. It told me I had to fight the Avatar of the Dark One. Then I heard the Light One speak. It called me LightBearer," she answered, stringing words together in her haste. "Oh, god, oh, god."

"Calm yourself, child," the Matriarch snapped.

There was such force in her voice Eliora reacted as though she'd been slapped. "I'm sorry, Matriarch," she replied meekly, turning to face the old woman. "I'm just very frightened."

"That is understandable, but you must not panic. You have power, now, do you not? Power to shake the very ground beneath our feet?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

She sighed. "The Light One has explained much to us."

A priest rushed in. "Matriarch," he cried, speaking in the Light language, the language of all those who followed the Light One. "We have discovered the location of the-the-" he stuttered, his voice trailing off.

"If you cannot bear to say the name, call the Dark Avatar 'StormBringer,'" she replied, also in the Light language.

"We have found the StormBringer, but it's only a matter of time before the Order of Darkness finds the LightBearer."

"Yes, I know. She cannot stay here."

"What do you mean I can't stay here?" Eliora demanded, mildly surprised she understood the exchange.

The clerics looked at her sharply.

"When did you learn our language?" asked the Matriarch. By habit, she switched back to the Light language to address the clerics. "Fetch some robes. She can't go in that," she told the priest. He dashed off. "You two, go summon a guide, and make it quick," she ordered, and two priestesses left the room. It was now just her and Eliora.

"Summon a guide? What are you talking about? I need to get home. Mother and Father must be worried sick about me."

She sighed. "Child, you cannot stay here. You cannot see your family again."

"What? Why not?" she cried. "I don't understand."

"If our clerics felt the awakening of the ShadowWalker, then the Dark clerics most certainly felt your awakening. You cannot stay here. The Avatar of the Dark One will come to destroy you. You two are the most powerful beings on our world. An army could not stand against you. Even mages are no match for your power."

"But-but what does that have to do with me leaving?"

"Tell me, child, in your studies of the history of the Mage Era and Mage Wars, what happened when one mage directly opposed another?"

Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, but she focused, trying to dredge up the memory. "They would fight each other. There were terrible battles that left the landscape scorched and barren, sometimes for decades." She met the Matriarch's eyes. "You-you think this ShadowWalker would come here and destroy everyone?"

She nodded. "This I do not doubt. Perhaps not today, but eventually. Everything you know and love could be destroyed. You cannot stay here. We are racing against time. If we can move you, perhaps the Order of Darkness will never know where you truly came from."

"But what about my family?" she cried.

A priestess entered with a set of robes and started to dress Eliora, who was in no condition to fight her off.

"Unless you defeat this great evil, you will not return home. You must not see them. To do so will place them, and the whole city, in great danger," the Matriarch answered firmly.

"But-but, they'll be so worried. I can't just leave them. I can't just leave my family and friends," she protested, feeling sick at her stomach.

"They will not worry."

"How do you know?"

"We will tell them that you died of the fever. They can grieve, and move on."

"What?" she exclaimed. The fire in the oil lamps burst into such high flame that the glass melted.

"Calm down," she ordered. "If you win, come back. But this will be easiest on them."

"Telling them I'm dead?" she snapped.

"Child, you should show more respect," the Matriarch retorted harshly. "Now, you must go. The ShadowWalker can be found in the northern hemisphere. There is a small kingdom of demians who live well to the south of his location. Once there, they should help you raise an army to defeat this Darkness."

"Demians? You're sending me to the demi-humans?" she blurted.

Just then, two more priestesses entered leading a strange creature. It was human-shaped, three-dimensional, and seemed to be made of Light.

"That thing!" she shrieked. "That was in my dream."

"Probably not exactly this creature. This is an iridescent, child. It will not harm you for it is nothing but Light."

The Armor was now covered by the robes, and she yanked away from the priestesses. "I want to see my family," she demanded. Tears were streaming down her face. "I want to tell them what's going on. I want to tell them that I love them and see them one last time."

"You told it where to take her?" the Matriarch asked, ignoring Eliora's outburst.

The two tired priestesses nodded.

"Go now," she told the iridescent.

It walked up to Eliora.

"No, no, I can't go," she snapped. The books were shaking on the bookshelf.

"I'm sorry, child, but to have you here is too great a risk to us. You must do this to protect your family. The demians will take care of you. Seek the Order of Light. They will help you."

The iridescent put a hand on her shoulder. "We must go now," it said, in the Light language.

"No, please. I can't go. I can't leave them," she pleaded.

Then they vanished.

And reappeared in the middle of a forest.

"This is the gate to the demian domain," said the iridescent. "You may call upon us any time, Mistress." It bowed and disappeared.

"What?" she snapped, but it was gone. Disoriented, she tried to remember the journey with the creature, but it had gone by so fast the only image she had was bright light. "Where am I?" she thought, looking around. Intellectually, she knew what a forest was, but having never even seen a tree before in her life, seeing the woods up close was almost overwhelming. The trees were tall, most over a hundred feet, with a width of about twenty feet. The sunlight was low, revealing it to be near sunset. The air was damp and cool, and the soft dirt floor was littered with bushes, leaves, and moss. The forest was full of the sound of unfamiliar birdsong. A squirrel dashed passed her legs, causing her to jump and snap several twigs. She heard someone yelling at her, but couldn't understand the language. Then she heard a sharp twang, and an arrow embedded itself at her feet. She stumbled backwards a few steps, terribly confused and frightened. More of the strange language followed, and by the tone whoever was speaking was barking orders. She started to feel dizzy and light-headed. Her jumbled mind replayed the images from the day as her knees went weak. "I can't handle this," she thought, and collapsed in a dead faint.

Donnan awoke with a start, but didn't move. His eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out where he was. The room held a bedside table, an oil lamp, a comfortable chair that was filled with the sleeping body of Blake, a small table with a chess board, another comfortable chair, a bookshelf, a desk, a closet, and the full sized bed he was lying in. Even though images from the strange dream were flashing through his mind, his first coherent thought was, "Blake's going to break his neck lying in that chair like that." He slowly sat up. "This isn't your room," he commented.

"What?" Blake replied, sitting up abruptly. "Oh, good, you're up. No, this isn't my room. This is a guest room."

He raised an eyebrow. "A guest room? What have I done to deserve this?"

"Well, look at yourself," he answered, getting up, opening the closet door, and revealing a mirror on the inside.

He walked over to the mirror and saw that he was wearing a full body suit of black armor made of small, tight links, far finer than any human could make. It was banded with silver and he had a silver circlet around his head.

"You're the Dark Avatar," Blake said, coming up behind him. "Do you know that means?"

"I look kind of skinny in this."

The acolyte half laughed. "You're takin' this really well."

"I'm not sure what to make of all this. I don't like it. I don't like fightin' for the Dark One. People already treat me like some filthy dog. This isn't goin' to help." He peered closer. "What in the name of the gods is wrong with my eyes?"

"It seems they've gone black."

"Oh, real helpful there. I can't go out like this." He started to blink several times, as though he could will the color back to normal. To his great surprise, they returned to ice-blue. "Still doesn't do anythin' about this," he sighed, poking at the Armor. "What I am supposed to do? And why did the Dark One Choose me? Am I some sort of monster? I don't get it."

"I don't understand either, and I don't think It's about to tell you. I don't think you're a bad person."

"Yeah, well, you can't see my soul. Maybe it's full of Darkness." His eyes turned black again, and in the mirror he could see the reflection of his own soul. To his eyes, his soul was shaped like his own body, but made of Darkness and Light. Darkness and Light were nearly balanced, but it was tilted toward Darkness, and some of it was very deep. He stumbled backwards and shook his head.

"What?"

"Never mind. Gods, that was weird." He looked at his friend, and to his surprise saw his soul was in much the same state. He blinked until his eyes watered, then sat back down on the bed. "I'm not sick anymore, am I?"

"No. We got you here as quickly as we could. But I think that was just a symptom of the transformation."

"We? What we? Did you bring other priests?" he snapped.

"We were ordered to find you. By the Dark One."

"Great. So do you know what I am?"

"You are called ShadowWalker," he replied, flinching slightly with the name. "Most of the clerics have taken to calling you StormBringer. You are more powerful than any sorcerer, and you can control the wind and water. We don't know what that is, though," he answered, pointing at the Armor.

"Protection for the Dark One. A gift. So do you know what I'm supposed to do with this power?"

"Fight the Avatar of Light. The clerics were looking for the LightBearer, but he seems to have vanished."

"Great. So I've got this person who's probably lookin' to kill me out there, somewhere?"

Blake nodded.

Donnan fell back on the bed and covered his eyes. "Damn it to darkness. No one likes to deal with your Order. Sure as blazes no one is goin' to want to deal with me. What am I supposed to do?"

"Anything you want."

These words gradually penetrated his numbed mind. "Anythin'?"

"It's not as though anyone can stop you. Well, except the LightBearer, but if we don't know where he is, he probably doesn't know where you are. So you've got some time before he raises an army of Light to come destroy the Darkness."

"That sounds so..."

"Ridiculous? Simplistic? Melodramatic?" Blake offered.

"Yes."

He shrugged. "If we were told to find you, I bet the Order of Light was told to find the LightBearer. What else are they goin' to tell him?"

"True, true," Donnan replied, sitting up. "Anythin' I want, huh?"

"Sure. The Order will even help you."

"If they want, when they want, and for a price," he added bitterly.

"Yes, but the important part is that they will help."

"Anythin'. That's a lot."

"I know. It's an important decision."

"I know two things I want."

"Aolani," he guessed.

Donnan nodded.

"And revenge against Reese?"

"You're real good at this guessin' game."

"Well, I can certainly see that, but why think so small?"

"Small?"

"You're not just some poor dishwasher anymore, Donnan. Think big. You could run Renfrew if you wanted. With some time, you could even put together an empire. What do you think of that?" he asked, his eyes shining with ambition.

"I think you're crazy."

"Well, think about it. There's no reason to go into work today, is there? Stick around the temple and we'll talk."

"Alright," he replied hesitantly. "What time is it?"

"About lunch time. I can get some food."

"Yeah, that'd be good." Blake left the room, and Donnan went back to the mirror. "I can't walk around like this," he thought, staring at the Armor.

A piece of the shadow disengaged from the wall to his side. "It is made of Shadow. You can return it to the Shadow, and call it back when you need," the black, human-like creature hissed in the Dark language.

He bit the inside of his mouth to avoid screaming and jumped back a couple of steps. "What-what in darkness are you? I saw you in my dream."

It cocked its head to the side. "No, Master, that was not us. We are called darklings. We are here to serve you."

"Oh, great, great. So, what do you mean that this is the stuff of Shadows?"

"Made by the Dark One, part of the Dark One, part of the Long Shadow."

"The Long Shadow?" he repeated.

"The place of Shadows. The place where we dwell. The place the mages use to travel. They open their portals of bright light and follow the bright path to their destination," it explained, venom in its strange, slightly echoing voice.

"Wait, you mean the Shadow Realm?"

It nodded.

He stared at the mirror again and mentally commanded the Armor to go away. Much to his surprise, it vanished. He called it back, and it reappeared. "That's pretty handy."

"Have you any other questions, Master?"

"Master?"

"You are the ShadowWalker."

Donnan winced. The title sounded harsh, foul, and inexplicably menacing when spoken in the Dark language.

"We are of the Shadows. We serve you. You are of the Shadows now and of the Darkness. That is why you understand our language."

"Well, that's nice to know. I guess. If I can believe what you say is the truth."

"We have no need to lie, Master. The truth is far more destructive than lies."

"Um, alright. You can go now."

It bowed, then sank into the floor.

Shivering, he returned to the bed and lay back down. He stared at the ceiling until Blake re-entered, bearing a tray of food. He cleared off the chess board and set out lunch on the small table.

"Come on, this is the good stuff."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Donnan replied dryly, but he sat down in one of the chairs and ate anyway. "I need some clothes."

"Well, yes, you can't go around in that. Do you know how to take that off?"

He nodded. "As best I can tell, it's just an act of will."

"That's interesting."

They ate in silence. When lunch was cleared away, Blake pulled out the chess board.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Donnan asked. "You've never come close to beatin' me."

"Well, I figure if I'm goin' to ever win, today's probably the only day you'll be distracted enough."

He smiled. "Let me change, and you set up."

"You can chose anything you want out of the closet."

His smile quickly faded, but he said nothing. He sent the Armor away, but was wearing nothing underneath. When he was dressed, he paused thoughtfully, and called the Armor again. It returned as expected. Then he sent away, and now was wearing the clothes he had just put on. "I guess my old clothes were destroyed. But this is kind of nice. It'd be a pain to have to carry clothes with me."

"That was a neat trick," remarked Blake.

"It's handy."

"Why didn't you pick somethin' nicer? That's just like your old clothes, only better quality."

"If I show up in fancy clothes, Alain's going to wonder what's goin' on. I don't think he'd take this well. He'd probably blame you."

"No, that wouldn't be good."

They lapsed into silence as they started to play the game. Nearly three hours passed, and by the time they stopped, Donnan had won three games soundly.

"Damn, you're good," commented Blake.

"What do you get out of this?"

"Well, I improve my strategy skills..."

"Not that. What do you get out of helpin' me do anythin' I want?"

"Get out of helping you? What kind of question is that? I'm your friend."

"Yeah, I know. But you're a Dark priest. I know them. They never do anythin' unless they get somethin' out of it."

Blake sighed. "I want the usual things. Power, fame, glory, wealth. If the Dark One bothers with me, I can get all that, which is part of why I joined the Order. If not, well, at least it pays better than pickpocketin' and it's not quite as much work."

"Why help me?"

"The same reason the Dark priests carry out the requests of the Dark One. The Dark One has power, and they hope that It will grant them power if they please It. You've got power, and I think I've got a better chance of getting my own power by helpin' you out than just praying to god. And you are my friend. I think you might want some help, at least to figure out what you're going to do."

"Honestly?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Honestly. I've got no reason to lie to you."

There was a thoughtful pause.

"Blake, do you know what'll happen if I do win?"

"I have no idea," he shrugged. "Why?"

"Well, there must be some reason the gods decided to do this. I think maybe that my winnin' goes beyond just me. You know?"

"I think I understand. You think there's a reason you have to fight this battle besides the battle itself."

He nodded. "Yeah, somethin' like that. I'm not sure I can do anythin' I want 'cause I don't know what's goin' on or what's really supposed to happen if I win."

"The Dark One didn't tell you anything?"

He shook his head. "And I don't think It will, neither."

"So you're just going to ignore all this power you've got because something bad might happen if you win?"

"I can't see how anythin' good could come of this."

"Donnan, if the Dark One wants you to do something, it's a bad idea not to do it."

"But I don't know what the Dark One wants. Well, I guess It wants me to kill this LightBearer, and I don't want to kill someone. Dammit, Blake, do you know what you're saying?" he roared.

Color drained from his face. "I guess I didn't think of it that way."

"I don't want to become some sort of monster."

"I'm sorry, Donnan. It's just, well, you know I always wanted the power to really do something with my life. I forgot that power has consequences."

"Yeah, I know that," he sighed. "I'll be straight with you. There's two reasons I didn't join the Order. One is because, well, no one likes the Order. No one trusts you guys. My life is hard enough without havin' to deal with that."

"I knew that. But you're part of the Order now, more or less. Whether you like it or not. If you're going to have to deal with that stigma, you might as well make the best of it. No one can stop you."

He sighed. "Well, there's more. Joinin' the Order seems like cheatin'."

"Cheating?"

"Sure. You ask and get power that maybe you don't deserve. No offense."

"None taken," he replied dryly.

"No better than say, Reese gettin' into the guard just 'cause he's the son of the Guard Commander."

"Oh, yes, thanks."

He shrugged. "Sorry, Blake. That's just how it is."

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know you didn't want this. And I know you don't know what to do. But I'd like to help. I can probably talk the Order into helping too. And I do know one thing."

"One thing?" he repeated, gently teasing.

Blake smiled wryly. "About this. The LightBearer is going to come looking for you. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but he'll come for you. And he'll probably kill you, because he'll probably think you are some kind of evil monster. So at the very least, you need to find out when he's comin' and have a plan ready when he does."

"You're probably right about that. Look, I need some time to think. This is just too much for me to deal with right now."

"Fine by me. But I think the sooner you start whatever you're going to do the better."

"But not right now."

"When?"

"I don't know," he replied, exasperated. "Look, how about we go to dinner tonight, play some games, and we'll talk tomorrow. No, wait, Alain's graduation ceremony is tomorrow. You come to the ceremony, and then we'll talk."

"How can I turn down what promises to be such an exciting afternoon?"

"You're such a jackass," he replied affectionately.

"Is Darris going to let you go since you missed work today?"

Donnan shrugged. "I'm not sure I care right now. I'm not sure I'll even care tomorrow."

Blake cleaned his glasses thoughtfully, but said nothing. "Well, I'll buy dinner."

"Sounds good to me."

Eliora slowly came to, aware of the murmur of voices. Giving no sign that she was conscious, she strained to hear to the words, but they were mostly in an unfamiliar language. She did catch snatches of the Light language, but not enough to follow the conversation, although she could guess the conversation was probably about her. The tone changed to something a bit angrier, suggesting an argument. She didn't think she was in any danger, but thought it might be a good idea to show that she was awake. "Hello?" she asked, in her own language, and opening her eyes.

She was in a small room made of wood, lying on a narrow bed. A lamp was hung up on the wall, and there was a curtain opposite her, as though she was just in the bedroom of a larger room. The voices were coming from that other room. Oddly, her first emotion was not fear, but embarrassment. Not only did she still have her shoes in on a house, but she was even in bed with her shoes.

A young man and a female demian entered the room. The man was a few years older than she was, tall, with fiery red hair, gray eyes, clean-shaven, and might have been good-looking except for the ugly scowl on his face. The demian was barely five feet tall, with green skin, straw-yellow hair, and green eyes. She was smiling in a reassuring fashion.

Eliora wasn't sure whose appearance was stranger. She expected a demian to look different, but she had never seen a hair color like the young man's, or skin so pale. She wondered for a moment if he was sick, but then decided it must just a characteristic of the region. She was also unused to seeing any males old enough to grow beards without them. She glanced at their feet and saw they were both wearing shoes, which made her feel oddly better.

"Can you understand me?" she asked, in the Light language.

"Yes," Eliora replied, startled anew that she could understand and speak the unfamiliar language.

"Great. That makes things a little easier," muttered the young man.

"Excuse me?"

"Welcome to the city of Tallis Marrom. My name is Hanae," said the demian. "This is Aidan."

"My name is Eliora."

"You are the LightBearer, aren't you?" he asked rudely.

"Yes, I am," she replied, getting annoyed.

Hanae looked a little confused. "I'm sorry if our hospitality is inadequate for your station. We were not expecting you to come here."

"Me neither," she sighed.

Aidan gave her a sharp look, but didn't say anything.

"I'm here to answer any questions you have about demians and serve as translator. We have our own language, although many of us do know the language of Light. Aidan, being one of the few humans who can speak the Light language, has been selected to be your translator. And I guess to tell you about human society here, which is clearly different from your own. But I'm sure we'll learn to get along."

He rolled his eyes.

Eliora didn't comment on that, as she was more than a little confused by the demian's almost complete obliviousness to the condescending attitude Aidan was displaying. Without being aware of what she was doing, her eyes turned white and she peered into the demian's soul. What she saw was something the shape of the demian's body but completely made of Light. Startled, she looked at Aidan, and saw his soul was fairly balanced between Light and Darkness, tilting slightly toward Light. Oddly, the Light from the human soul was brighter than that from the demian's soul. She shook her head to clear it and blinked furiously trying to get her eyes back to normal before anyone noticed.

"Are you alright?" Hanae asked.

"Sorry, something strange just happened. I'm alright now."

"What just happened?" demanded Aidan.

"I don't know. Something strange," she answered, annoyed.

He rolled his eyes again.

"What's wrong?" she snapped. Actually, what she wanted to say would have been harsher, but the Light language lacked certain colorful and derogatory words.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" he repeated. "Isn't it obvious? You're the LightBearer and you don't even know what you're doing with this power. How are you supposed to defeat the Darkness if you don't even know what's going on?"

She just sighed and looked down at her hands. "It's a fair question," she replied, a tremble in her voice. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know where I am. I'm not even sure how I got here. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He muttered something in his own language.

Hanae looked shocked, and appeared to scold him.

He just shrugged.

"I'm sorry, LightBearer," said Hanae. "I'm afraid I just don't understand humans."

"What did he say?" Eliora asked the demian.

He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "Aidan, you need to leave. The king would like to meet the Champion, and she needs to get dressed."

"Fine, but I've got to introduce her to Hialmar by dinner time."

"I'll send someone for you when she's ready."

"Fine." Then he left.

"Gods, I do not need this today," she muttered in her own language.

Hanae looked politely confused. "My Lady, clearly you are from very far away. But you must adopt the fashions of the humans here. It will help you fit in better. While you were unconscious, we fetched some clothes we hope will fit you," she said, laying out unfamiliar garments. The demian was actually wearing a long purple flowing dress not entirely dissimilar from her robes, but the clothes she was offering with nothing like anything Eliora had seen before.

"This is so embarrassing," Eliora said.

"Why?"

"Well, first of all, I don't now how to get this Armor off, and second, I have no idea how to put on these clothes."

"Armor?" she inquired.

Eliora pulled off her robes, revealing the shining Armor.

"Oh, my. That is a gift from the Light One."

She nodded. "But I'm not sure how to take it off."

Suddenly, an iridescent appeared in the room. Hanae jumped back, her green eyes wide.

"You called, Mistress?" it asked.

"Did I?" she stammered.

"We have answered, so you must have called."

"I must be more careful," she thought. "Well, how can I take this off?"

"It is part of the Light. You are part of the Light. Send it to the Light, and in the Light it shall remain until you call it back."

"So you're saying I can just send it away, just like that?" she asked.

It nodded.

She stared in the mirror and mentally commanded the Armor to go away. To her surprise, it did, and left her quite naked. She yanked on her robes before Hanae could protest. Her face very red, she called the Armor back. Her robes vanished. Then she sent the Armor away again. To her relief, her robes reappeared. "Oh, thank goodness. I didn't want to have to carry clothes with me everywhere." She turned to the iridescent. "Thank you. You may go now."

It bowed and vanished.

"Good. Now I know how one thing works, at least. Well, show me how to get dressed," she sighed to Hanae.

"Well, first you should have a bath, no offense, my Lady."

Eliora smiled. "No, I understand."

Hanae showed her the bathing room which had a small, wooden bathtub. "The well is just out back. I'll be right back." Within a few minutes, she had it half filled. Then she touched a rune on the front of the tub. "Wait a few moments, and it will be warm."

"That doesn't look like any rune I'm familiar with."

"You know human magic?"

"No, but I've seen some of it."

"This is our magic. It's different from yours," the demian replied simply. She left briefly and returned with a towel and soap. "It's ready." She left Eliora alone, but had the bathing room door opened a crack to talk.

She shed her robes, let down her hair, and got in. "It's wonderful," she sighed, feeling the desert grit wash away. She had never experienced anything like it. Water was too valuable to use in this manner. Even the very wealthy were usually consigned to washing with a damp cloth and washing their hair in one small container of water.

"Please do not take too long, my Lady."

"Of course not," she replied, finishing up as quickly as she could with her long hair. She dried off and emerged with the towel wrapped around her middle.

With the demian's patient explanation, soon Eliora was wearing underclothes, a pair of dark brown pants, a button up, long-sleeved linen undershirt, a long-sleeved thick overshirt, and a pair of sturdy leather boots. Hanae then took a brush to her wet, thick, waist length black hair.

"These clothes are very close," she remarked, plucking at the sleeves uncomfortably.

"It is what the humans wear."

She adjusted her undergarments. "Why does this have to be so tight?"

"I confess, I am the wrong person to ask about these things. Perhaps when you learn the language, you can speak to one of the human women."

"Why do humans live with you if they can't even speak your language?"

"Some can. There are not many women here. Most humans here are warriors, and they protect us."

"Why?" she asked, curious and grateful just to be able to talk to someone.

"We are not fighters. We do not like to fight. We prefer to make things. Humans like the things we make. We do direct trade, and sometimes they offer their protection so that we can work on our crafts in peace. Most of those seem to be male. I really don't understand humans, though."

"That's alright. I am human, but I'm sure I won't understand much about these people."

"You do clearly come from a very different place. There. You hair is brushed. Do with it what you will."

Eliora returned to the bathing room, and braided it up quickly in sort of a crown around her head. "I'm ready, I guess."

Hanae stood up. "Come then. Here's the key to the front door," she said, handing her a key on a leather cord.

She put it over her head and tucked it into her shirt.

"The king is eager to meet the Champion."

She followed the demian through a comfortable looking sitting area filled with wooden furniture and then outside. She stopped, staring at her new surroundings. The large trees were mostly red oaks and blackwoods, with the smallest having a base diameter of twenty feet. The tops were well hidden by numerous layers of branches, but she knew they were over a hundred feet tall. The ground had been cleared of most stray twigs, saplings, and bushes. Small wooden cottages with thatched roofs sat at the base of the trees. An odd squeaking sound came from somewhere above her, so she looked up and was amazed anew. There was another level to the city, in the very treetops. Dwellings were cut into the thick trunks, extended with wooden platforms, and connected by bridges, some natural, some clearly constructed. Lanterns were hung everywhere, illuminating the twilight.

"Humans live on the ground. We live in the treetops," Hanae said, anticipating her question.

"Why do you live there? It's so high."

"It puts us closer to the sun, and is safer than being in the open."

"How do you get up there?"

"Ladders, and some elevators."

"Fascinating."

"Follow me."

She was lead to a tree near the center of the city, all the while drinking in every detail she could. People were around, even though it was evening now. The demians gave her a cursory look and a polite nod. The humans were not as polite. Some openly stared, and they started to talk to each other. She felt a blush rise. As embarrassed as she was, she realized that she hadn't seen a single human woman yet.

Hanae stepped onto a wooden platform at the base of a very large tree. "Come on."

Eliora hesitantly followed, and stared up the ropes that were attached to the platform, but the tree canopy was too dense for her to see how high up the ropes went.

The demian tugged on a rope causing a bell to chime somewhere in the foliage. Then the platform started to move upwards.

She moved to the middle of the platform, fists tightly clenched.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe," said Hanae. "You'll get used to it."

"Good," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

The platform took them about fifty feet up, and stopped in front of a dwelling cut into one of the largest trees.

"This is what the humans call the palace. It's merely the place where the king lives and conducts his business. It doesn't sound much like what they call palaces." The demian led her to a building that looked as though it was half in the tree. She opened a wooden door, and they entered a sort of large study. A male demian wearing a gold circlet was seated at a desk on the opposite side. There were a number of bookshelves along the way, and a few other people were also seated at desks. Hanae led her straight to the crowded demian and bowed. "Your Majesty, this is Eliora, the Champion. Eliora, this is his Majesty, King Freyne."

"Should I bow or something?" she whispered to Hanae.

"It's proper."

She did so, feeling embarrassed.

"Welcome, Champion," said the king. His yellow hair had turned dark in places, like the wilting of a leaf, and his face bore wrinkles, showing his advanced age. "We are honored you choose to come here."

Her face flushed, but no seemed to notice her discomfort, or they were too polite to say anything.

"Hanae will be your guide to our part of the city and our society. However, we are not fighters, so you will have to spend much of your time with the humans. They will teach you what you need to know to combat the Darkness."

"Alright, I guess."

"But we will try to make your stay here comfortable. If you need anything, just ask Hanae."

"Thank you. That's very kind."

"We do our best. If that's all, you are expected at the dining hall with the humans."

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll have questions later."

He bowed slightly. "Good evening, LightBearer."

She bowed clumsily. "Good evening, your Majesty."

Hanae led her back to the platform.

"Are there clerics here?" Eliora asked.

"We do not have clerics, as such, but there is a priest of Light among the humans."

She frowned. "Only one?"

"This is a small community. Only one is needed."

"How many families are here?"

"I'm not sure. Most of the humans here don't have families. There are a hundred of them, I'd say," the demian answered.

She contemplated this until Hanae stopped her in front of the doors on the side of a large, longish building.

"This is the human dining hall. Sometimes they hold large meetings here. I'll go fetch Aidan. He's supposed to be waiting here for you," she said cheerfully and entered the building.

She caught the sound of loud talking and the smell of unfamiliar food. "God, give me strength," she prayed. A warm wave of calm swept over here.

Hanae emerged in a few minutes with the sullen Aidan.

"Good evening, my Lady," she said, and walked away.

"Come on," he snapped.

She steadied her nerve, and followed him inside. The room was large enough to hold about a hundred people, but only about fifty were inside. They were seated on long wooden benches by large wooden tables, eating and talking, but went silent as she passed by. She couldn't help but notice that every single person was a man. Aidan was walking swiftly to what she guessed was the head table, since it faced all the others. Seven older men were seated there. One was dressed in white robes, similar to her own desert clothing, so she guessed he must be the priest. She wondered why the priest didn't offer to translate for her, and filed it away for future consideration.

Aidan stopped in front of a fifty-something man with gray hair, blue eyes, and a beard and mustache. He spoke in his language, she heard her name, and then he turned to her.

"This is Hialmar. He's the leader for our community."

"How is this going to work? I just say something to you, and you translate?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, it's the best we can do for now."

The man called Hialmar spoke, and Aidan translated. "How did you get here?"

"An iridescent led me."

"Why did you chose to come here?"

"I didn't. The...," she paused a moment, stumbling to find a word for "Matriarch." She tried again. "The head of the Order of Light in my city sent me here. She told me that the demians would help me."

"Did she say how they would help?"

She shook her head.

The group at the head table looked a little annoyed.

"Can you fight?"

"Do you mean, have I been formally trained? No, I haven't."

Now they were shaking their heads.

"What, exactly, are your skills?" Aidan's translation seemed to accurately reflect the frustration she heard in the voice of Hialmar.

"I can read and write my own language, as well as the Light language, it seems. My job was to record the debates during meetings of my government. I'm not a warrior."

"Do you know any magic?"

"I've not had arcane nor divine training," she answered.

Aidan put his head in his hand as he reported that. There was more grumbling from the table. Hialmar spoke again. "Alright, the leader is going have a meeting with the Council. I'm to show you where to get dinner. Come on."

"Meeting? About what?" she asked, following. She guessed the Council must be the governing body for the community, and the seven men at the head table were filtering out of the dining hall for what she guessed was a more private meeting. It was painfully obvious they were not pleased with her answers.

"You, of course."

"Did I do something wrong?"

He just shook his head and led her to a window with a counter that was on the side opposite the head table. Judging from the smell and smoke, it was connected directly to the kitchen. He said something, and a middle-aged woman showed up.

"Finally, women," she thought. She noted that the woman's outfit was different from her own. She was wearing a light blue top with the sleeves rolled up and a long, dark green skirt.

He said something else, and she bustled off, then returned quickly with two bowls filled with thick stew. She set those on the counter and disappeared into the steam and smoke.

"See, you just ask the kitchen ladies, and they bring you food," he explained, taking her to a nearby, empty table.

"What is it?" she asked, staring at the stew. Food in her country was mostly flatbreads, lentils, some dairy products from goats, but not much meat.

"What is it?" he repeated, surprised. "It's stew. Made from deer meat."

"Deer?" She wracked her tired mind, and dug up a vague image of a largish animal with four skinny legs, and a rack of horns on its head.

"You don't know what a deer is?"

"I do. I learned a little about forests in secondary school. I just had to remember," she replied, getting annoyed.

"Well, that's something."

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked again.

"What, you can't guess?"

"Just tell me."

"Jomei, the priest, comes in this morning and tells us about this Champion battle. We don't know what to do, so Hialmar says not to worry. Then this afternoon you appear. Jomei confirms you are the LightBearer. Hialmar assigned me and Hanae to you hoping that you could understand the Light language or the demian language."

"So your people are a little surprised. I don't understand the problem."

"The problem? The problem?" he repeated, sounding surprised and exasperated. "You're some foreign woman who shows up on our doorstep and then promptly passes out. None of us were real happy about that, but we figured surely the Light One or you or whoever sent you knew what they were doing, right? But no. It turns out the people who sent you didn't give you a plan, and it turns out you can't fight, don't do magic, and have no useful skills to fight the Dark Champion. That is the problem," he explained angrily.

By this time, the rest of the people in the hall were staring at them, but she didn't notice.

Already stressed from the shocks of the day, her frayed temper snapped completely. "You-you," she started, annoyed that this language didn't have the right words. "Listen, I didn't ask for this. I've just been ripped away from everything I've ever known and loved and practically abandoned in this foreign city," she shouted.

"And now we have to babysit you, no doubt. Too bad the Light One couldn't have picked us a decent Champion," he retorted.

She stood up abruptly and kicked the bench out from underneath him. Neither he nor the bench were light, but she hit with enough force to knock him to the ground and slam the bench into the bench at the adjacent table. She switched back to her own language, insulted his parentage with a few choice words, and stormed out, heading directly for her new cottage. She had enough presence of mind to lock the door behind her, and then she threw herself down on the bed and cried.

After an hour, she heard a gentle knock on the door.

She wiped off her face and went to answer it.

The man in white robes was standing there. He was in his early forties but looked older, with gray-streaked dirty blond hair and light brown eyes, and he was carrying a bowl of stew. "My name is Jomei. May I come in, my Lady?" he asked in the Light language.

She nodded.

"Hialmar has decided that it would be better to meet with you tomorrow to discuss plans."

"Good."

He placed the bowl of stew on the low table next to her. "You should eat."

She cautiously took a bite. "This is odd."

"You'll get used to this kind of food."

Surprised to find it tasted pretty good, she finished up the bowl quickly.

"I will be teaching you the human language of this area."

"Thank god," she replied.

"But Aidan will have to serve as your translator outside of classes."

"Why?"

"I have other duties I must attend to, I'm afraid."

"Can't you find someone else?" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, my Lady. I was in the meeting with the Council, which broke up upon hearing of your abrupt departure from the dining hall. Aidan will be made to apologize. I suggest you forgive him. We will want you to learn to fight, and someone has to be able to explain the instructions to you."

"Fight?"

He nodded. "More will be explained tomorrow. If what Aidan told us about what you said is true, you probably need your rest."

"What did he say?"

"That you apparently weren't given a choice to come here," the priest answered mildly.

"No, I wasn't. I was told to go by the head of the Order there." Quickly she debated opening up to him. "Priest or not, I don't trust these people. I'm not sure priests are so trustworthy anyway," she thought bitterly. She turned her attention back to him and said, "I really wasn't given much time to discuss the matter with them."

"Why did they send you here?"

"They said they had found out that the Dark Avatar was in this part of the world, north from here. They said that the demians could help me." She decided not to mention that they didn't want her to bring trouble to her home. She didn't want any more hostility directed at her.

"They found the Dark Avatar?" he asked, looking surprised. "Your Order must be powerful. So they just said the demians would help?"

She nodded.

"Well, that's interesting. The demians aren't really fighters."

"Hanae has told me. I don't think the head of the Order told me everything before I was sent away."

"That's also interesting. The demians are not going to be a great help, although I think that the Dark clerics will have a difficult time finding you here. The demians have an odd magic, but it protects them from magical spying. Maybe that's why your Order sent you here."

"Could be," she agreed, but without much enthusiasm. With her anger and grief spent for the moment, she was starting to feel very tired.

"Do you have any questions about the humans here?"

"Why are there so few women?" she asked immediately. "And how come I'm dressed differently?"

"Most people who came here did so to protect the demians, although some of the older men are here because they have tired of human society in general. The majority are from the farming communities to the west of this forest. Women in that sort of society don't do much fighting. Neither do the men, really. But for young men who want a different sort of life for themselves, defending the demians has a certain appeal. The clothes the women wear aren't exactly suitable for fighting, so you've been given more practical clothes. Don't worry, women can choose to dress in the same manner as men, but usually they don't."

"Do you ever have to actually fight?"

"Sometimes. There are groups of bandits that will come through, thinking that the demians would be easy to rob because they do have a reputation for peace and non-violence. It only happens once in about five years, but that's often enough to draw those who wish to fight. Sometimes older men come with their families if their home has been destroyed. That happens through natural disasters or through bandits."

She struggled to remember her education about the rest of the world. "To the west of us is a plains area and a country named Trevelan. Mulago is the capitol city, and home to an Arcane Academy. North west of this area are the city-states, who are in a state of peace right now. And there are also isolated communities scattered through the woods. I think there's a lake even farther west, and I know there are mountains to the north, but I'm afraid I'm too tired now to remember much else."

"It's better than I would have expected."

"My job included an extensive eduction on politics and geography."

"That may be useful, depending on what the Council decides," the priest replied.

"Do I get any say in any of this?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Then why were you going to meet while I was having dinner?"

He sighed. "Honestly? You are not what we expected, and there is, as you've apparently noticed, some hostility toward you. I, at least, was planning to talk the others out of their prejudices as best I could."

"I'm guessing that my behavior tonight will not help matters?"

"On the contrary, I think the fact that you were willing to stand up for yourself will go over well with some of the Council."

She sighed. "That's a small comfort. I'm tired. I'd like to go to bed now."

He stood up and took the bowl. "Sleep well, my Lady. You'll be woken early by Hanae."

"Wait. Why Hanae if there are other women here? I need to learn the customs of women here," she said, choosing her words delicately, "and I thought at first that there were no human women. But there are, so wouldn't they be better to help me out than a demian?"

"The women all have extensive duties, not to mention their own families to tend to. Even if you are the LightBearer, they must tend to their other duties first. Hanae is one of the few demians who speaks the Light language. But if you wish to know more about us, please feel free to ask me."

She felt Jomei's explanation was incomplete, and wondered if the other women had feelings that reflected Aidan's and probably the Council's – that they shouldn't have to be bothered to babysit some stranger. She nodded. "I appreciate that," she replied.

He bowed slightly, then left her.

She locked the door and went to bed. Exhausted and grief-stricken, she fell into a fitful sleep.

Donnan woke up early enough to go to work. "I don't feel different," he thought. "But I still don't know what to do about this." Out of habit and lack of a better plan for the day, he dressed, got breakfast, and went to work.

"Where in darkness were you yesterday?" Darris demanded, bustling into the kitchen as he was putting on his apron.

"I was sick. Couldn't get out of bed."

"Well, you look much better today for having been so sick."

He shrugged. "Gods honest truth. I was sick."

"Fine, but if it happens again, I'm going to have to fire you. Gods honest truth," he said with a self-satisfied smile.

He shrugged again. He could feel the Dark power move within his soul, like a large, lazy river; mostly quiet, but unmistakably present. It gave him a odd sense of confidence, if not reassurance. "Whatever," he replied, and turned his attention back to his work.

The man's ruddy face turned a deeper shade of red. "Listen here. I won't put up with that kind of disrespect. I can replace you at any time, you know that."
"Sure. Which is why you still haven't replaced my brother," he muttered.

Darris sputtered a moment. "Just remember, I can fire you anytime. And you're going to have to work extra hard to make up for missing a day."

"Yeah, I was plannin' on it."

"Well, then," he replied, relaxing a bit. "Glad you remember your place." He turned to walk away.

"I'm still leavin' early today," he stated, washing out a mug.

"What?" he exclaimed.

"My brother is graduatin' from the guard. I promised I'd go."

"You can't leave early. Did you just hear me? You have to work extra to make up for missin' a day."

He shrugged again. "Yeah, and I'll do that. Startin' tomorrow."

"I just said that you can't go."

"I'm goin'. It's up to you whether you want me to come back tomorrow," Donnan replied.

The older man looked quite taken aback. "Well, well, I never had anyone talk to me in such a fashion."

"What? Honestly?" he retorted, casually washing dishes.

"What is wrong with you, takin' that kind of attitude with your boss?"

"Nothin's wrong. I'm doin' my job." Another dish clacked in the sink.

"You might not have a job if you keep up that attitude."

"So fire me."

"I should."

Donnan's attention was fully on the sink and he just kept washing dishes.

Darris turned redder and redder, waiting for a response. "Well?" he blurted.

"Well what?"

"Do you want me to fire you?" he demanded.

"Isn't it obvious that I don't really care?"

"Why, you little whelp," he roared. "I ought to take you outside and teach you some respect."

At this, Donnan started to laugh. He put down the dishes and just laughed.

Darris gave him an odd look. "I don't see what's so funny."

"You are. This is. Honestly, why am I wastin' my life here, workin' for some blowhard like you? And workin' over time no less 'cause you're too cheap to hire someone else. Darris, you can take this job and shove it where the sun don't shine. I've got better things to do." With that, he took off his apron, folded it, set it down on the counter, and walked out the back door.

Darris just stood there, stunned. "Wait a minute!" he called.

Donnan didn't stop walking.

Darris jogged to catch up with him, panting hard. "Wait a minute, my lad."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I may have been a bit harsh. I'll give you the afternoon off, like you asked. But someone's got to wash the dishes before we get too backed up and can't serve the lunch crowd. Now come on, lad."

"For three years I've been workin' for you, holdin' my tongue, doin' what you told me, and gettin' treated like dirt for it. Now I tell you off, and suddenly you're my best friend? Amazin'." He started to walk away again.

"Wait a minute, wait, wait," he said, puffing up beside him. "Look, I guess I've been a bit cheap. But I really need someone to take care of those dishes. Got a bit behind yesterday, see, and really need to catch up."

"Give me a raise."

"A raise? A raise?" he blurted. "Alright. A raise. Five percent."

"Fifteen."

"Ten," the large man countered, sweating even in the early morning cool.

"Ten. And no more overtime."

"Oh, come on, now, lad. I don't have anyone else," he protested.

"Pay me time and a half for overtime, and actually try to hire another worker."

"Time and a half?" he repeated, his voice almost squeaking. "Sounds fair. And I'll hire someone else. What do you say?"

Donnan just started to laugh again. "I say clearly I've wasted a lot of time tryin' to be nice. 'Bye Darris. Maybe you should wash those dishes. A bit of physical labor would really help work off that big belly of yours." He turned away again.

"You're fired! I'll make sure you never work again," Darris shouted. "You hear me?"

He stopped and shook his head. Then he smiled, an ugly smile. Suddenly, a chill wind came up.

Darris shivered violently, and clapped his arms to his chest. "Never work again," he repeated, but the cold wind had taken away much of his bluster.

Donnan's smile got broader, and he walked quickly back to his apartment. There he dug out his books on the history of the Mage Wars and re-read them, trying to relax.

Eliora woke the next morning to the sound of someone knocking at her door. She almost jumped in surprise when she opened her eyes, but quickly remembered where she was and how she had gotten there. "So yesterday was real. All of it. And that means I really can't go home again," she thought. Fighting back tears, she got up and opened the door a crack.

Hanae was standing there with a smile. "Good morning, my Lady."

"Hello, Hanae. What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't miss breakfast. Do you need any help?"

"No, I think I can manage. Thanks anyway."

"You know where the meeting hall is. Aidan will meet you there." She bowed slightly, then left.

She closed the door with a sigh. Her heart heavy with sorrow for her missing family, she dressed and went to the meeting hall.

Aidan was standing outside the door, looking bored. "I'm sorry," he said sullenly.

Anger flashed briefly, and then faded. "Apology accepted," she replied.

He gave her a sharp look to determine if she was being sincere.

"What's after breakfast?" she asked.

"You get to meet with Council," he answered. "Come on."

Breakfast was oatmeal, something Eliora had never seen before, but she ate it anyway. When she was done, Aidan lead her to another cottage.

"Alright, that's enough mourning for now," she told herself. "These people don't seem to like me or trust me, and I have no choice but to rely on their guidance about how this part of the world works. I am the LightBearer. I can cry later. Right now, I have a job to do, and I had better do it well. It will be alright again. At least, I hope so."

In the living room of the cottage were the same seven men she had seen at dinner the previous night, including the priest. They were seated in a circle. Hialmar gestured for her to sit, then spoke to Aidan. He turned and left, looking irritated.

"Good morning, Eliora," said Jomei. "I hope you are feeling better today."

"As well as can be expected," she replied.

"We, as you may have guessed, are the governing body for the humans who live here. You mentioned that your Order found the Dark Avatar. Did they tell you exactly where?"

She shook her head. "They said north of this place."

He relayed this to the Council. "Very well. We shall try to find him. Rather, I will have to try to find him. In the meantime, we think it would be best if you learn to fight."

"Fight? With weapons, or with magic?"

"Both, but weapons first."

"Why? I'm not a fighter. Wouldn't it be better to teach me how to use this magic?"

"You need to learn control, certainly. But you control fire and ground. Have you thought about how dangerous that is? How many people you could hurt if you used that kind of magic?" the priest asked.

She shook her head. "No. I didn't even think of that."

"We were afraid of that. If the Dark Avatar doesn't know who you are, or where you are, he'll probably have to use people to find out. People will probably use weapons to attack you. You need to know how to defend yourself."

"But the Armor of Obsidian will protect me from mortal weapons."

He consulted with the group. "We still feel it's in your best interest to learn to fight. What if the Dark Avatar draws a weapon against you?"

"Maybe you're right. But I'm warning you, I have no experience fighting."

He relayed that to the group. "That's probably for the best. The weapons are different from the ones in your home land. You're going to spend at least a couple of hours every morning with me to learn the language. The rest of the day you're going to spend learning to fight."

"What about learning magic?" she asked. She didn't like the idea that she had to learn to fight, but she could understand the reasons why she needed to learn.

"That's going to be more difficult. We already have to teach you our language. Then we have to find someone to teach you Arcana, because none of us know it."

"I already know Arcana."

"What?" he blurted, surprised.

"I already know Arcana," she repeated patiently, with some satisfaction that at least in one area she had exceeded the Council's expectations of her. "My government deals with the Arcane Circle, so people with my job are taught to read and write Arcana. I can't speak it very well, but as I understand it, magic is actually written out in runes and glyphs."

He relayed this to the Council, and they seemed surprised but pleased. After a few minutes of discussion, Jomei spoke again. "That's very good news. We'll give you a month to learn our language and to fight, and then we'll work on finding you a mage tutor."

"What about the Dark Avatar?"

"We're going to ask our friends and family, and try to get in touch with local authorities, but I'm afraid we're just going to wait. If he wants to make his power obvious, he'll know it very soon. If not, we're going to have to find him."

Hialmar said something, and Jomei nodded. "We're dismissed. It's time for your language lessons."

Jomei took her to his large cottage, which was located right behind the temple. There were no signs anyone else lived there. He lead her to a study, pulled out a few books, and she started her lessons. The morning passed.

"Alright, it's about lunch time," Jomei said.

"Good. I'm hungry."

"Say it in Northern."

She repeated the phrase in his language.

"Now, have you ever had a chance to read the Book of Sol?"

She shook her head. "But I know it's the holy text of the Order of Light."

"Well, this is a good chance for you to do so. I think everyone should read it. I happen to have a copy written in both the Light language and Northern. I want you to take these and study them at night. Understand?"

She nodded.

"These are the same books I used as study aids when I was learning the Light language. I'll see you tomorrow."

She dropped the books off at her cottage, and found Aidan waiting for her at the meeting hall. After lunch, he took her to an area near the southern edge of the city. It appeared to have been long used to train people to fight. The grass was well worn in jogging paths and fencing strips, some trees had targets painted on them, and there was a small gym. Two dozen men were there already practicing.

"Who's going to be my instructor?" she asked.

"I am," Aidan answered.

"You? Why?"

"Because I know how to fight, and I'm the only person who can talk to you, that's why," he retorted, sounding insulted.

"I'm sorry. I meant no offense."

"Whatever. I guess the first thing we have to do is teach you basic self-defense. Punches, kicks, and things like that. That will build up your strength and endurance. But first, we stretch out and then we jog."

"This sounds like what my little brothers do before they go out and play," she thought. She stretched out her muscles and followed Aidan. Her side started to hurt and she was finding it hard to draw breath, but didn't say anything. They ran laps around the trees in a well worn path for what she guessed must have been three miles. When he stopped, she almost fell to the ground, her legs hurt so much.

"How are you doing?" he asked with a smirk.

"Just fine. Can I have some water?" she asked, gasping for air.

"Follow me." He took her to a small well in the training area. "You get to draw the water. You do know how, don't you?"

She held her temper and her tongue, and drew up some water. There was a ladle attached to the bucket, which he used to dip out the water. Then she took a long drink.

"Back to work," he said with a smile.

"He's barely broken a sweat," she though irritably.

"Time for punching." He showed her how to wrap up her hand for punching, then showed her a tree that had the bark removed, exposing the smooth skin. "Alright, do what I do," he said, and showed her how to throw a basic jab. He corrected her stance and form. Then he pointed her at the tree. "Aim for the same spot."

She threw a punch into the already worn spot, and it landed with a satisfyingly solid sound.

"Great. Now keep it up until I tell you to stop."

It was a long, tedious afternoon. She tried to break up the monotony by getting some information about the people. She found out that most of the men went out in hunting parties to get food for the community, and the women grew small gardens and gathered plants. Traders came through every few months, but most of the community work was geared toward basic survival. Eventually he stopped talking to her, and she concentrated on the fighting. Aidan taught her how to jab with either hand, cross punches, and basic front and back kicks. By dinner time she was exhausted, and she knew she was going to be sore in the morning. One of the first things Jomei had taught her was how to ask for food. When Aidan saw that, he left her to join a group of men his age. With a sign she sat down at a table alone. After dinner, she returned to her cottage, drew a bath, and studied until she felt tired. She fell asleep with tears in her eyes.

Late afternoon Donnan changed into his nicest clothes, which he noted were not quite as nice as the ones the temple had given him, and made his way to the western guardhouse for the graduation ceremony.

The gates were open, and two guards on duty were directing people to the back. Blake was waiting in front of the gates, looking impatient.

"Where were you? I went to the tavern, but you weren't there. And I think Darris was doing your job. Were you fired?"

"He thinks so. But I quit," he answered, and they walked to the back.

"Why did you do that?"

"He offered me a raise."

"Donnan, I'm not following here."

The obstacle course area had been set up for the graduation ceremony. There was a podium, a couple of guards in dress armor, and the bleachers were about a quarter filled, which was to be expected for a class of about thirty people. Donnan scanned the crowd for Aolani, but she was seated near the front with the mayor and some of her other family and friends. He led Blake to a more isolated area, but he did keep his eye on her.

"Pray tell, why does offering you a raise mean you had reason to quit?" Blake pressed.

"It's insultin'. He only offered 'cause he had no one else to do the work today. The dishes piled up because I didn't go in yesterday. I wasn't even nice to him. In fact, I told him off, and suddenly he's my best friend. There he was, actually treatin' me almost like a real person, but only because he was desperate and thought that I'd be fooled into thinkin' he suddenly respected me. I knew I didn't get any respect from this guy, and but now I know he thinks I'm a fool. And I realized how stupid it was. No, not stupid. Absurd."

"Absurd?"

"Yeah." He lowered his voice. "You're right. You're crazy, but you're right. I can do anythin' I want. And here I'm worryin' about keepin' a job I hate? With a boss I can't stand? A boss who thinks I'm a fool? All the power in the world, and I'm goin' spend it washin' dishes? If I can do anythin', I can definitely do anythin' else but work for him."

"Ah, I think I understand. Do you know how far you want to go with this?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I think it's a bad idea to go too far, but I'm not sure I have any real choice."

"Fair enough. What are you going to do for money and food?"

"Talk to your bosses."

"They never give without wanting somethin' in return," Blake reminded him.

"I know."

A trumpet sounded, and the ceremony started. The fully armored graduates marched out of the barracks in formation, did a few maneuvers on the cleared obstacle course, then faced the podium and stopped. Behind the podium stood a dozen guards. Half were instructors, and the other half had assisted in the training. The younger ones looked bored, and two of them had to stand watch over the box of swords, even though no one was going to take them. The guards called out their names, and one by one they walked up to the podium to receive their longsword and shake the hands of their instructors. The graduates were supposed to stand still while in formation, but after receiving the sword, they scanned the crowd for friends and family before returning to formation.

"Interestin'," Donnan muttered.

"What?"

"Reese is here. Looks like he gets to stand watch over the box of swords."

Alain walked up, got his sword, and looked for Donnan.

Donnan nodded slightly at his older brother in acknowledgment.

He smiled broadly and returned to his position.

"Do you think there may be trouble tonight?" Blake asked.

"There might be. I'm tryin' decide if I'm goin' to be the one to start it."

"Won't Alain want to celebrate?"

"Yeah. Which makes me think there's goin' to be trouble tonight. I'd better stick close to him, just in case."

Blake nodded. "I think that's a good idea. Can I come?"

"I don't think Alain would mind."

"You going to tell him you quit?"

"And ruin his good mood? Nah. There's a lot I'm not goin' to tell my brother," Donnan replied, a sad look crossing his face. "There's a lot I can't tell my brother."

Blake clapped an arm over his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

They watched the rest of the ceremony in silence. After it was over, the guards were dismissed, and they joined their families.

Alain walked straight up to Donnan and nearly crushed him in a bear hug. "You showed up," he said joyfully.

"I promised," he gasped, straining against his brother's grip.

He released him with a puzzled expression. "Say, little brother, I think you're gettin' stronger."

"What?"

"Have you been workin' out without me?"

He gave Blake a questioning look. Blake shrugged.

Alain turned to the acolyte. "Donnan told me you helped him out of a spot of trouble about a month ago."

"I didn't do much. Just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Well, thanks for bein' lucky then. Thanks for takin' care of my little brother. That means a lot to me," he said, extending his hand.

With a surprised look, Blake shook the large man's hand. "Not a problem."

"Right. Now, you two come with me. I'm meetin' the old gang down at the Wooden Tankard and I'm buyin' dinner. Then tomorrow I get my assignment, clear out the barracks, and move back in. Maybe we should get a better place. I'm gettin' a raise now."

"We'll talk about that later," Donnan said.

"Alright. Let's go. The guys'll be waitin'. This is goin' to be great. Finally things are goin' our way."

Donnan smiled wanly, and they left the guardhouse. It took some time to get to the tavern, and Alain was cheerfully telling them about his experiences, his performance, and where he expected to get assigned. They stayed late at the tavern, having a good time, and Alain got rather drunk. It was well past midnight when the group broke up. Alain was having difficulty walking, so Donnan and Blake started to haul him back. The night had turned overcast, so there was no light from the half moon, and most houses were dark. Blake pulled a necklace out of his shirt, unwrapped it, and revealed a light emanating from the rune carved on the stone. It wasn't as powerful as a proper lantern, but it was sufficient.

"Thankssomuch l'le brother," the older man murmured.

"I knew you were goin' do this," Donnan sighed. One of his brother's arms was laying on his shoulder, and he had an arm around the big man's waist, pushing him along. "But you were right. I got stronger."

"How-how-how did you do that-that?" he asked.

Blake cleaned his glasses thoughtfully. "It's an interesting side effect."

"Shut up," Donnan hissed. His brother was about one and half times his own weight, but he was having surprisingly little difficulty moving him. He was bulky, not heavy.

"What? He's not going to remember this. I think this is a sign that no matter what else you do, you ought to learn to fight."

"And who's goin' to teach me? You?"

"We can find teachers no doubt."

"I've got no money for that."

"Money may not be an obstacle."

"What-what areyoutalkin' about?" muttered Alain.

"We'll talk about when you're sober," Donnan answered. They staggered along for another few blocks, turned down a narrow side street, then stopped.

"This isn't a good place to stop," Blake cautioned. The part of the city they were in had no street lamps, so the only light came from the half moon and the houses. The moon was obscured by thick clouds, and the late hour meant most houses were dark.

He put his finger to his lips.

Blake looked puzzled, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of men in armor walking toward them. "Trouble?" he mouthed.

Donnan nodded, and set Alain down next to the wall in the darkest shadows. "Be quiet, you got that?" he whispered.

Alain looked at him with unfocused eyes, and nodded.

"Blake, put that light away and get down," he hissed.

The acolyte sat down next to Alain, tucking the necklace away.

"I heard them a few blocks ago. That's why I turned down this street," he whispered, crouching down next to the both of them with his hand on his dagger. Three guards walked slowly past the street, clearly trying to be quiet. Blake was about to speak when one came back and looked down the alleyway. Then he just stood there, looking impatient.

"What in darkness is wrong with him?" Donnan muttered in Blake's ear.

"What?" he whispered.

"That's Reese. I think he followed us, and is tryin' to figure out where we went."

"Gods, and I thought some of my superiors could hold a grudge," Blake murmured back. "You can tell who it is?"

"Can't you?"

He shook his head. "Too dark."

Suddenly Alain started to snore.

Reese made frantic arm motions.

"Oh, perfect time to pass out," Donnan muttered.

"What are you going to do?" Blake asked.

"I don't know. But you'd better stay down. This could get real ugly," he replied, standing up.

The other two guards joined Reese and one lit up a hooded lamp. Light streamed through the narrow street, clearly illuminating the group.

"Ooo, poor Alain. Public drunkenness is going to look bad on his record. And on graduation day too," Reese sneered.

"Judgin' by that slur in your voice, I'd say my brother isn't the only one guilty of that," Donnan retorted. The wind started to pick up.

Blake looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled. Alain continued to snore.

"You again. Little no nothing dishwasher. I see you didn't learn any manners."

The other two snickered and wavered a little on their feet, a sign that they had imbibed more heavily than Reese.

"What in darkness is wrong with you?" Donnan snapped, crossing his arms. "Why are you followin' us? Don't you have somethin' better to do?"

"You can't talk to me like that," he retorted.

"I just did. You goin' to answer the question? What is wrong with you? Pickin' on a drunk man 'cause you know he's a better fighter than you. Gods."

"Hey, I'm a guard, dammit. You can't talk to me like that," he repeated. "I'm better than you. You're just a servant."

"Better my foot, you brayin' jackass. The only reason you're still a guard is because the commander is your father. I'll bet that's the only reason you got in the first place."

"Shut up," Reese snarled. He advanced rapidly. "You don't know a godsdamn thing about me or my father. You're a nobody. And this time you're going to learn some manners. You're going to learn to respect your betters." Then he threw a hard punch.

Donnan caught his wrist in his hand, and held it there.

Reese was so surprised he didn't follow up his attack. "What in darkness?" he stuttered.

"It seems I found a sore spot," he commented calmly, with a black look on his face.

"When did you get so strong?"

The other two guards were just staring at the scene with blank looks on their faces. Through their alcohol haze they recognized that something was not right, but weren't thinking clearly enough to do anything useful. Blake was still smiling. Alain was still snoring. The wind was getting stronger and turned cold.

"Does this mean you're not goin' to fight me?"

With an angry look, he aimed another punch with his free arm.

Donnan caught that one too, then swung the larger man around, slammed him against the wall, grabbed his throat, and held him there.

This jolted the guards out of their stupor, and they started to move forward.

"Don't move," Donnan commanded.

The two suddenly stopped dead in their tracks and resumed looking blank. Blake's smile turned into a thoughtful expression.

Reese gasped and tried to loosen Donnan's grip on his neck. "You're going to get in real trouble for this," he wheezed.

"I don't think so. Those two don't look bright enough or sober enough to remember happened here. Are you goin' to tell anyone? You goin' to run to your father and tell him some skinny little nobody picked a fight with you?" he demanded savagely.

"I'll get you for this, wretch," he retorted. "You're going to get beat to within an inch of your life."

His tightened his grip. "You already did that, you black-hearted bastard. You and your two lackeys almost killed me. I haven't forgotten that, and I'm goin' to be the one to get you back for that," he hissed. "Or maybe I'll do that right now." His eyes turned black, and he soul the hapless guard's soul. Unsurprisingly, the Darkness was greater than the Light.

He was starting to look a little blue and very frightened, but couldn't speak.

"Donnan, I suggest you probably don't want to go through with this," came Blake's voice.

He hesitated, feeling the power swell with his anger.

"Donnan, I strongly suggest you don't want to go through this right now," the acolyte insisted, a touch of nervousness evident.

He pushed the power back and dropped the guard, his eyes returning to normal. "You're probably right."

Reese clutched his throat, breathing heavily.

He took a few steps back, and the guard scrambled away.

"You idiots," he snapped at other two. "Why didn't you help me?"

"Don't know," one answered slowly.

"You're in trouble, dishwasher."

"Shut up, Reese. You can't hurt me now. And by gods, if I find out you're messin' with my brother, I'll make sure you learn some respect." Lightning ripped through the clouds, followed immediately by a sharp crack of thunder. "Go away. Now." The sky opened and the rain started to pour down.

The bewildered and frightened guards turned and ran.

Alain snorted a few times and woke up. "Wha' happened?" he murmured. "Why am I all wet?"

"It's rainin'," Donnan answered absently. His mind was occupied on how he had suddenly gotten stronger, and how he had called in the storm.

"You need to come to temple tomorrow," Blake said softly, but urgently.

He nodded, then helped Alain stand up.

"I should get back," he said muzzily.

He put his brother's arm around his shoulder and started to lead him forward. They were thoroughly soaked by the time they reached the guardhouse. The gates were locked, but there were two miserable looking guards on duty.

"Halt," called one. Then he sneezed. "Who goes there?"

"I'm returning my brother Alain," Donnan answered.

The gate opened was opened by a fresh-faced, red-headed guard.

"Will he get in trouble?" he asked worriedly.

The young man smiled. "Nah. I'll take care of him. It's the least I can do."

Bits of information clicked into place in Donnan's mind. "You're Kennet?"

"Yes. You're Donnan?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, Alain's talked about you. About me too, I guess. Don't worry, we look out for each other. He's not the first to be dropped off this evening, and he won't be the last. Besides, most of our superiors will forgive graduation day transgressions."

"That's good to know," he replied. "Thanks."

Kennet nodded again, and the other guard took Alain into the compound. "Be careful out. It's a nasty night."

"Will do." Then they turned and left.

The gate closed behind them.

"Are you going to your place?" Blake asked.

"No. I think I'll go to yours."

"I thought you might. What about Alain?"

"I don't expect to see him until evenin'. He thinks I'll be at work anyway."

"Good. Then we can talk about this evening and what you did."

"I figured as much."

Eliora awoke the next morning feeling terrible. "Gods, I didn't know I had this many muscles," she thought, crawling out of bed. "I'm awake," she called at the door. The knocked stopped. She got dressed and went to the meeting hall. Aidan was no where to be found. She was vaguely disappointed. It was clear he didn't like her, but at least he was someone she could talk to, and she hoped that he might come around and begin to like her once she settled in. He was in the meeting hall with what appeared to be his group of friends. She ate breakfast alone, then went to Jomei's cottage.

The afternoon passed in almost the same fashion as it did the previous day, only she hurt a lot more. Aidan taught her a few more types of kicks.

"Alright, now it's time to teach you blocking."

"Blocking?" she repeated, as she walked to the well to get a drink. "This place isn't as hot as the desert, but I never worked this much before. Good thing there's so much water here," she thought.

"Now, I'm not going to try to hurt you, but just let me know if I'm hitting too hard," he said. He showed her how to hold up her hands. "Now, I'm going to take a jab at you. You need to push my arm out to the side. Got that?"

She nodded and took a defensive stance. He took a punch and she easily deflected it.

A flicker of confusion crossed his face. "That was good. I'm going to try a little harder."

The same thing happened.

Now confusion was set on his face. "Alright. Is this at all difficult for you?"

"Difficult how?"

"Well, I'm a strong guy. You should really have to throw your strength into a block to try to deflect my punches."

"I don't follow."

He sighed. "You seem to have good reflexes. I'm going to go with a right cross now. I want you to try to grab my wrist with your left arm. If you can't do that, just push my arm away from your face."

She nodded.

He punched, and like lightning she grabbed his wrist, stopping his arm completely. He winced as it jarred his muscles. "Didn't that hurt?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Should it have?"

"Follow me," he barked.

"Have I done something wrong?"

He didn't answer, just walked briskly forward to the small gym. It was larger than a cottage, but smaller than the dining hall. All the windows were about a foot and a half tall, three feet long, and near the twelve foot high ceiling. The floor was wooden, and there were two doors: one was the main entrance, and another side door lead to the weapons lockers, which could be accessed from the outside. At the end opposite the front door were five practice dummies. They were six foot tall metal cylinders with the top back quarter cut away. The inside was hollow, the front was covered with thick padding, and they were set into tracks in the floor. Each track was about three feet long. Beside each dummy was a box of sand bags with numbers on them. Aidan was heading straight for them.

"Why don't we practice in here?" she asked, noting that it was empty.

"Outside is good enough as long as the weather is good." He pointed at the odd looking contraptions. "These are practice dummies. We use these to test how powerful our kicks and punches are. The bags are put inside to mimic an opponents weight." He plopped a couple of the bags in and arranged them. "Now, remember that side kick I taught you?"

She nodded.

"Kick that."

Her foot landed solidly and the dummy sailed backwards, crashing against the end of the track. Both looked surprised.

"Gods." He put in more sandbags. "Again."

Another solid kick knocked the dummy back again, but with less of a crash. This process was repeated until the dummy didn't move when she kicked it.

"Gods," he repeated in Northern. "I have to tell Hialmar about this."

She puzzled out the words in her head. "Why?" she asked, in Northern.

He looked up at her, startled. "You're picking this up fast."

"I didn't catch that," she said, switching back to the Light language.

"Doesn't matter," he replied, switching language. "Look, do you have any idea how much weight is that dummy?"

She shook her head.

"Let's put it this way. You would have knocked a man twice my size, in chain mail armor, backwards three feet and landed him on his rear end."

"Really?"

"Yes. That's why I was asking you if it was hard to block my punches. I should be a lot stronger than you are, but you didn't seem to have any trouble blocking, or catching my arm. It should have at least hurt some. How could you not know how strong you are? What do you eat where you come from?"

"I think this is a side effect," she replied. "I wasn't this strong before. I would have noticed."

"Side effect?"

She nodded. "Of being Chosen."

"Well, that's something," he replied dryly.

"Excuse me?" she asked sharply.

"Come on. Now that I know your strength, you had better learn it before you accidentally hurt someone."

"Somehow I don't think this is going to make it easier to get along with these people," she thought glumly.

He led her back to the training area and taught her some more blocks, then finished up the day with another long jog. Dinner came and went, and she was left alone again. She returned to her cottage and studied languages until her eyes wouldn't stay open, then she dropped into a fitful sleep.

Donnan spent the night in a guest room in the temple, and woke up with someone knocking at his door.

"Come in, Blake," he called, crawling out of bed.

"How did you know it was me?" the acolyte asked.

"Who else would it be?" he shrugged. "Can I borrow some clothes?"

He nodded. "You can probably keep them, if you ask."

"Alain's goin' to wonder where I got the money for nice clothes once I tell him I got fired."

"Why tell him you got fired?"

"It'll be easier that way. When's breakfast?"

"In a few minutes. Get dressed and I'll take you to the dining hall." He flushed a little. "And if there are people there, well, don't be surprised."

He raised an eyebrow. "I guess the clerics want to meet their Avatar."

"You can't blame them for that."

"I guess not," he sighed, and got dressed.

Blake lead him through the temple. The outside was windowless, dull black stone, but the inside was wood planks and it was well lit by several lamps. The path seemed surprisingly twisty for what was a basic rectangular building. They reached the dining hall, which was a large room with several long tables lined up next to each other, and a head table at one end. It looked large enough to hold about a hundred people, and it was nearly full.

Donnan felt his face flush red. "I didn't expect everyone in your temple," he whispered to Blake.

"Neither did I. Looks like we've been saved seats at the head table. I never got to sit there before."

"You're gettin' benefits already," he said dryly.

They slowly walked past the clerics and up to the head table. The head priest stood up and bowed. He had brown hair with streaks of gray, a well kept beard and mustache, and blue eyes. He was not very tall, and a little on the plump side.

"My name is Dwyer. Welcome to our temple, my Lord."

"Lord?" he repeated, surprised.

"Of course. Sit, eat, enjoy. We will talk after breakfast in my study. Acolyte Blake may join us, if you so desire."

Blake looked a little embarrassed. "Thank you, sir."

Donnan took a seat by the priest and the meal started. Covered plates had already been laid out, keeping the food warm. "Is this how it always is?" he whispered to Blake.

He shook his head. "No. Usually us acolytes have to serve the meals. But I guess Dwyer wanted everyone to be here. But someone must have laid these out early. I'm surprised I wasn't asked to do it."

"I'm not," he replied.

The clerics chatted throughout the meal. Donnan didn't join in, but he did listen. The clergy appeared evenly split with men and women. His eyes turned black and he scanned their souls. Everyone seemed to have more Darkness than Light, the older clerics moreso, and almost everyone shivered as his gaze swept over them. He snuck a glance at Dwyer, who didn't react. He didn't have the most Darkness, but it seemed to be quite deep.

"My Lord, that is a violation of our privacy," Dwyer said softly.

"Sorry." He blinked, and his eyes returned to normal.

"You don't have to apologize. I was merely making a comment. The others probably don't know what you were doing."

The conversations seemed to range around normal topics; mostly gossip and some politics. He found it oddly disconcerting. After breakfast, the acolytes started to clear away the plates while the clerics with more rank simply left.

"Come with me, both of you," Dwyer said. He lead them through winding hallways to a comfortable study. There was a large desk, and the walls were lined with bookshelves stuffed with books and scrolls. "Have a seat." He gestured to two comfortable chairs in front of the desk. "So, my Lord. What do you want?"

"From you?" he replied.

Dwyer smiled, but it was a cold smile. "Yes, but more generally, what do you want? Once you tell me that, then I can better determine how the Order can help you get what you want."

"I want things to change."

"In what way?"

"Well, I'm tired of the city guard bein' able to do whatever they want without gettin' in trouble."

"That's very noble. Although I suspect your reasons for wanting that are quite personal."

Donnan shot a dark look at Blake.

"What? Was I supposed to keep that a secret or something? I have to make reports to my superiors about my actions."

"Did you have to tell them who beat me up?" he growled.

"Well, they wanted to know why I didn't want to report this to the guard," he answered sheepishly.

"My Lord, please just be honest with me, no matter how stupid or silly you think it may sound."

He gave Blake another piercing stare.

"I didn't say a word about what we talked about, I promise."

"There are good reasons why I'm head of the Order here," Dwyer remarked.

"So I see. I don't trust you," Donnan replied.

"As well you should not. But if you want our help, you're going to have put aside some of your distrust. We can't help you if we don't know what you want."

He sighed. "I don't really know what I want. I know I'm tired of bein' treated like I'm worthless and stupid just 'cause I'm poor. Just because I didn't get to go to school. Just because I've got no parents anymore. I'm tired of rich people bein' allowed to get away with things I'd get in jail for. I'm tired of people gettin' things just 'cause of who their parents are. I'm tired of gettin' stepped on and pushed down. And I know it's selfish and I'm thinkin' small, but I want to see that bastard Reese get what's comin' to him, and there's this woman I'd really like to get to know. But she won't look twice at some poor orphan with no education, no breedin', and no real potential," he explained quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"That I can understand," the priest replied. "There's no shame in wanting to improve one's station in life. Indeed, that's why many of us joined the Order. There's also no shame in wanting to impress a woman. Power brings respect. You now have power. If you were to use it, you'd be respected."

"I know better than that. I didn't go to school, but I can read. I've read a lot about the Mage Wars. They tried to rule just because they had magical power, and we all know how well that worked," he retorted dryly.

"This is true," agreed Dwyer. "Then what do you suggest?"

"I'm telling you, you could rule," muttered Blake.

"Why would I want to do that?" he snapped.

"Why not?" asked the priest.

"I don't know how," he answered, looking flustered. "And what good would it do if I did?"

"If you were in charge, you could easily change how justice is administered. This Reese would have to pay for his crimes. You would be part of the upper class, and be able to impress this lady."

"All I need is education and money for that, I think," he replied. "Are you serious about this? I mean, I'm barely over twenty. I'm just a kid to most people. No one's goin' to listen to me, no matter how much power I've got. I've got no education. I don't know anythin' about anythin'."

"Well, that's a good start. But this isn't about what you know, or what you think you can do. This is about what you want. What do you want, ShadowWalker?" Dwyer asked again.

Blake looked uncomfortable at the mention of the title, and started to clean his glasses, as was his habit when he was nervous.

He was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. "I want respect," he answered slowly. "And not from fear, either. Respect from havin' political power, or money, or from knowin' things. I want respect because I'm somebody. Somebody important. I want to be somebody instead of nobody. That's what I really want."

The priest nodded. "Very good. How much of a somebody do you want to be? Enough of a somebody to impress your lady fair? Enough of a somebody to punish this guard? Enough of a somebody to impress everyone?"

"I want to be somebody important enough I could talk to this woman without bein' embarrassed and ashamed. I want Reese to get punished. I don't care about anybody else," he replied harshly.

"Thanks," Blake interjected dryly.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"Well, you must have some significant influence if you hope to punish a guardsman. I don't know the station of your lady, so I can't comment on that. How far are you willing to go to get what you want?"

"I don't want to do nothin' that will make Alain ashamed of me," he answered quickly.

"Alain?"

"My older brother. He's in the guard. He watches out for me. I don't want him to get hurt, or be ashamed of me."

"Very well," the priest replied. "If you want knowledge, you may have access to our libraries. Money and political power are a bit more difficult. You have no money to invest in any trade, I would guess."

He shook his head.

"And no good job?"

"No job at all. I got fired yesterday."

"You quit," Blake corrected.

"Why did you do that?" Dwyer asked.

He shrugged. "It was lousy job and my boss was a royal jackass."

"Then why didn't you quit sooner?"

"I need the money."

"But you still need money."

"Yeah. And Alain won't be happy about this either." He gave the priest a suspicious look. "What're you gettin' at, anyway?"

"Nothing. Nothing. I just find it interesting that you decided to quit a job you clearly disliked the day after you became the StormBringer. Why would that cause you to quit?"

"I figured I could find better things to do."

He smiled. "That's good. That's encouraging. Now, I suppose you want to know what we can do for you?"

He nodded.

"It depends on how far you want to go. If you just want a bit of power, we can give you money and tell you what trades to get involved in. If you want political power, we can get you information that would make it possible."

"Blackmail?" he interrupted.

"That's such an ugly word. But yes, much of our own power comes in the most useful form of all – secrets."

"That seems low," he commented.

"The world of politics is not noble. Our tactics are no lower than that of most politicians." He leaned forward on the desk. "Of course, if you were really ambitious, with a little time and effort, we could help unite the city-states under your leadership."

"You're crazy too."

"No, I don't think so. We've kept an eye on the political and economic situation of all the city-states. Renfrew right now is the most powerful, and would be a good starting place."

"No one is goin' to take a kid like me seriously," he replied, thinking, "What's wrong with these people? I can't rule." But in the back of his mind, a small voice was saying, "Why not?"

"That's what puppet rulers are for. You seem to know your history. Many mages used them quite successfully until their own egos got in the way."

"I still think you're crazy."

"But you are thinking about it," the priest remarked shrewdly.

"And what do you get out of it? Why are you pushin' this idea?"

"If you rule, surely you would repay the debt you owe those that got you that power."

"You," he replied bluntly. "And if it fails?"

"Then we make sure nothing you have done can possibly be attributed to us."

"So it's a no lose situation for you?"

"Well, we lose some time and effort spent trying to help you, but those are the risks."

"I don't trust you," Donnan repeated.

"Again, you should not. But think about what we've discussed. The temple will lend you some money. You'll have to come up with your own explanation as to how you got it. I will start contacting individuals that can help you get political power and a job."

"It'll be legal, right?"

"Well, not illegal, exactly."

"I don't want to nothin' to make Alain ashamed of me. I can't become a criminal."

"My Lord, I respect that, I really do. But you have no name, no money, and no connections of your own. Trying to help you using completely legitimate means would be next to impossible."

He sighed. "Alright, but nothin' illegal."

"Very well. Is there anything else you want from us?"

"I want to learn to fight."

"You should learn magic too. What you did to those guards last night was arcane, I'm sure of it," interjected Blake.

"Last night?" Dwyer asked.

Donnan shook his head. "Nothin'. But that's probably a good idea. I need to learn sorcery."

"We can get you a fighting coach. That's not hard. Teaching you magic will be more difficult, I'm afraid. Do you know Arcana?"

He shook his head.

"I thought not. You must learn that before we can get you a tutor."

"Why? Magic isn't written in Arcana. It's written in runes or somethin'."

"Yes, but you'll have to convince the mage that you are a worthy student, unless of course you just want to frighten one into working for you."

"I don't want that."

"Then you'll need to learn Arcana. It impresses them. I don't know it myself, but I can get you a tutor for that as well, although it will take a little more time."

"I guess that sounds alright."

"Good. We can have a fight coach ready for you tomorrow. We'll let you know when we can get you a tutor in Arcana. And of course I'll let you know when we've found a place for you in political circles," he said with another cold smile.

Donnan narrowed his eyes at the priest. "I think you're not tellin' me everythin' you're plannin' on doin'."

"You have a good grasp on the nature of the Order," he replied.

"That's not comfortin'. And you didn't deny what I said."

"I could, but I'd be lying."

"I guess this is the price I have to pay to get your help? Not ask too many questions?"

"It will make things easier," Dwyer agreed.

"I don't like it. This means you'll have a bunch of blackmail on me."

He nodded. "As I said, you have a good grasp on the nature of the Order."

Again, he felt the Dark power within him, a quiet, flowing river. "I'm not goin' to be stepped on anymore. Not by anyone," he warned, his eyes turning black. The temperature dropped by several degrees in the room.

Blake shivered.

Dwyer's smile fixed on his face. "I understand that, my Lord."

"Good. Come on, Blake, let's go do somethin'."

"Blake has duties, my Lord."

"Blake's the only one of you lot I even half-way trust. He stays with me."

The head priest nodded. "As you will, my Lord."

The two left the study.

"Donnan, do you know what you just did?"

"Told the head priest where he stands. And he let me."

"Yes. Yes. Doesn't that surprise you? Or scare you? Because it surprises and scares me."

"Blake, get me out of here. I don't care where we go. I just don't want to be here right now."

"How about we go looking for new apartments? Your brother will want to move anyway."

"Sounds fine. We can talk about what we're goin' to tell my brother too."

They spent the rest of the day walking around the city. Blake did most of the talking to the landlords, as Donnan had his mind on other things.

"They're crazy," he thought. "I know I deserve better than some lousy servant job, but trying to take over the place? What is wrong with them? I don't trust them. But he's right. There's nothing I can do on my own without getting in a lot of trouble. All the power in the world, and I still can't do a godsdamn thing on my own."

After locating a few promising locations, Donnan left Blake at the temple and went back to his apartment. Alain was there napping.

"Hey, little brother," he greeted, yawning. "I got some good news and I got some bad news."

"Funny, me too. But you first."

He shook his head slightly. "I got my first assignment. It's patrol duty, which is good 'cause I get a lot of practical experience, but I got assigned to the night watch."

"So that means you're goin' to have to sleep durin' the day, wake up around dinner time, spend a few hours doin' whatever, then go to work and come back at dawn?"

He nodded. "Yeah. But it's good work. I must've impressed my teachers. Most of us new guys would never get that kind of assignment. So what's your news?"

"I got fired."

"Fired? Why?"

"I was sick a couple of days ago. Missed work. And I didn't want to miss your graduation. So I got fired."

"Ah, damn," he sighed. "And I wanted to get a new place."

"Well, I have another job. Or will have another job soon."

"That's good. What is it?"

"I'm goin' to do some work for the Temple of Night," he answered, leaning away from his brother.

"Light One have mercy," he exclaimed. "You're joinin' the Order? I can't believe it."

"Stop shoutin'. I'm not joinin' the Order. Not exactly. They're just goin' to help me find a job. Until then, I have to do a little work for them."

"What kind of work?" he asked suspiciously.

"Odd jobs. Whatever they need," he answered evasively.

"Don't they have acolytes to do that?"

"Yeah, well, they won't help me if I don't do somethin' for them."

Alain sighed. "I don't like it. I don't like the Order. I don't like you owin' them anythin'."

"I don't like it either, but I don't have a choice."

"You could join the guard like me."

"No, I can't."

"Why not?" the older man asked, looking confused. "You've got a good start as a fighter. You've been workin' out, right?"

"Just trust me on this one. I can't be a guard."

"Is it 'cause of Reese?"

"No." He put his head to his hand. "I'm sorry, Alain. I've thought about it and thought about it. I know you don't like the Order. I don't like it either. But I've got no choice."

"Are you alright, little brother? You don't seem like yourself."

"That's one way of putting it," he thought bitterly. "I'm just a little upset about gettin' fired," he answered.

"Alright. Well, if you got a job with the temple, can we get a new place?"

"I think so. I spent the afternoon with Blake lookin' for better places."

They talked about moving for the rest of the evening, and ate a small dinner in their own apartment.

A week passed, and Eliora spent what spare time she had studying the Northern language. She tried to piece out conversations at dinner and practiced with the priest during her lessons. With observation, she had figured out the break down of the population. About a third seemed to be disaffected young men between twenty and thirty years of age. There were about twenty married couples, but no children. The rest of the population was compromised of widowers in their sixties who tended to keep to themselves, and a steady stream of traders. She had determined she was the only woman her age in the entire human community. Aidan instructed her in the afternoons, and abandoned her at dinner for his friends. All her life she had been surrounded by family and friends, and now no one seemed to want to talk to her, or even try. She knew it would be difficult to make friends as she seemed to be the only woman her age in the community, so she doubled her efforts to pick up the language in hopes that she could try to fill the emptiness in her heart.

That night after dinner, Eliora decided not to leave immediately and study her books. She watched to see what people did in the evenings. When the plates were cleared the older men left the dining hall. The young men took over several tables next to each other, and brought out cards and board games. Even though there were about thirty of them, they all seemed to be a more or less cohesive group.

"That's encouraging," she thought. "They seem to do the same things we do in the evenings. I wonder if they drink coffee, too."

She got her answer within minutes, as a young man passed her to grab several mugs from the kitchen counter window. They were very frothy and full. "Alcohol," she thought with a frown, getting a sniff. She watched as he sat down with Aidan's group. Some played cards, but Aidan seemed involved in a board game with another person. She watched with interest, wondering if she could work out the rules. To her surprise, she recognized the game. "That's chess! How did these people learn it?" After a few moments thought, she decided that the mages must have spread it when they were ruling. Aidan won the game fairly quickly, and she plucked up her courage and went over to the table.

"Excuse me," she said in Northern.

The men looked at her, confused and amused.

"What do you want?" Aidan asked rudely.

"I would like to join in your games, if that's alright."

He looked around at his friends. They sort of smiled and shrugged. "Alright. What games do you know?"

"Maybe it would be better if you taught me your games. I don't think I've learned enough to explain mine very well." She smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Aidan, let her play with you," suggested one.

"What?"

"Sure." He leaned over, and said in a low voice, "If you beat her quick, maybe she'll go away."

Eliora had plenty of practice in hearing low conversations from her scribe training, so she knew what the man said, but gave no sign of this.

"And you can pay her back for knocking you on your rear," snickered another, in a voice that wasn't quite low enough.

"Shut up," he snapped crossly. "She's stronger than she looks," he hissed to the man. He sighed. "Alright. This is chess. Do you know how to play?"

"There is a game like this where I come from, but you'd best explain in case the rules are different."

He tried to run through the rules in Northern, but when it was clear she didn't understand, he got frustrated and switched to the Light language to explain. It was exactly the same as the game she knew, only the pieces were called by different names. "I'll even let you go first."

The game started, and conversation went on around her. She tried to join in, but to no avail. Aidan fell silent after fifteen minutes, when it became clear that she was a practiced player. After nearly two hours, Eliora finished her attack and trapped his king. "I win," she said quietly.

He sort of laughed, and reached for the mage. Then he paused, and looked more closely at the board. "Godsdammit," he swore loudly. "When did you put that damn priest there?"

The other young men looked at the board and started to smirk and laugh. Then one leaned over to Aidan and said, "Aren't you going to tell her about the special rules?"

He gave the other a quizzical look.

"You know, the ones you didn't bother with because you didn't think it would come up."

"Yeah, those rules," chimed in another.

"Oh, yeah," Aidan said. "Well, I forgot to tell you, you can't move the priest like that."

"Why not?" she asked. The group was snickering rather loudly, as most had been drinking the whole time the game was going. Aidan, however, had only nursed one ale.

"Well, that's just how we play here. See, when you've got the king here, and you've still got the queen, you can't use the priest like that. Sorry I didn't mention it before."

She nodded, her face flushed with embarrassment. Usually she was very even-tempered, but the treatment she was receiving was making her angry. "I see. Well, shall we play again? I'll certainly keep that in mind next time."

Some of the men were doing a bad job of holding in their giggles.

"Alright, but if the game goes longer than two hours, I'll have to stop. You know, got to get to bed early."

A couple snorted loudly, then drowned their laughter in ale.

"Of course. I have lessons in the morning and shouldn't stay up late," she replied primly.

Aidan reset the pieces. "You first," he said.

She moved a piece, her eyes glinting like fire. The lamps in the room glowed just a little hotter and a little brighter. "I win," she declared, after less twenty moves.

"What?" he exclaimed, staring at the board. "You can't have won. And certainly not so soon."

The ones sitting next to them started to look at the board.

"She's got you," one remarked. "Damn."

"That's not possible. It's not just possible."

"Unless there are some rules you forgot to tell me about. Again," she replied angrily.

He looked at her sharply.

"I'm not stupid. I'm sorry you think so. I'm sorry your friends think so." Her voice had a strange rumble in it. The rest of the group looked at her, uncertain of what they should do. She stood up. "But mostly I'm sorry I even bothered to try." She stepped daintily over the bench and marched straight out of the dining hall.

She marched straight into her cottage, so upset she forgot to lock the door. She threw herself on the bed and cried for nearly an hour. Drifting on the verge of sleep, she become aware of someone knocking at her door. She opened it with a sigh.

"What do you want?" she asked, in the Light language.

"I came to apologize," Aidan answered.

"Apology accepted. Goodnight," she replied curtly.

He stuck his boot in the doorjamb. "Now wait a minute."

"Why? It's late, and I should get to bed."

"I haven't apologized yet."

"I've already accepted it. Goodnight," she said more sternly.

He sighed. "Look, I haven't been very nice."

"Yes, I've noticed."

"So I think I owe you an explanation."

"What's to explain? I'm the only woman your age in this entire community, which immediately sets me apart if nothing else. I'm from another country, and I'm the Avatar of a god. I don't know your language, I don't know your customs. You don't accept me. And from the behavior of you and your friends this evening, it's clear to me you don't want to accept me. I'm going to respect your wishes," she replied, with more sorrow in her voice than anger. "Goodnight," she said again, and pushed him hard enough to dislodge his boot from the door. She quickly shut the door, locked it, and went to bed.

A week passed in Renfrew. Dwyer found a fighting coach within in two days, so Donnan spent his time working at his tutor's house. The brothers also found a new place to live, which was in a nicer neighborhood near the northern side of the city. While they still shared a bedroom, it had a proper closet, a private bathing room, and enough room in the kitchen/living room area to set up a small dining table. He was heading to his coach's gym when Blake caught up to him.

"Dwyer wants to see you. I think he's found an Arcana tutor for you," he said, with a bit of a smirk.

"That's good. What's with the stupid grin?" he asked as they turned toward the temple.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"You're up to somethin'."

"So, how's the new place?" Blake asked.

"You're changin' the subject."

"I guess you must not like it very much, given that you've spent at least three nights at the temple this week," he continued, his smirk growing.

"What do you know about that?"

"What, you don't think we don't gossip about our own members? Rumor has it you've suddenly gotten very friendly with some of the female acolytes."

"Oh, well," he replied, with his own smirk. "They got friendly with me. I just took them up on their offer."

"Indeed. You are aware, of course, they're doing this because of who you are."

"Yeah, I know."

"They'll want something from you later."

"Yeah, well, I know that too. And I don't care. I don't owe them nothin', and they're foolin' themselves if they think I do."

Blake cleaned his glasses. "Be careful. No Dark cleric should be so lightly dismissed."

"Hey, I told them flat out I wasn't promisin' nothin' to them."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way, I guess I can't object. I knew you understood us."

"Yeah, and look at the trouble it's gotten me into," Donnan replied dryly.

They reached the temple and immediately went to Dwyer's study. He gestured at the chairs, and they both sat down.

"Good morning. I'm sure Blake has told you that we've found a tutor for you."

He nodded.

"Good. Before I go into detail about that, I have a request of you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Request?" he repeated suspiciously.

"You have the ability to travel around the world much faster than we do, correct?"

"I do?"

"Yes. You can use the Shadow Realm."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"I asked the Dark One. Perhaps you should do the same sometime," he suggested.

Donnan gave him a black look.

"You can travel through the Shadow Realm without the use of arcane portals. You just go where you want. We have need of that ability. We would like you to carry messages for us."

"What kind of messages?"

"Please, my Lord, this is our business. It's not polite to pry," the priest scolded gently.

"I don't like it."

"I didn't expect you would. But we have been quite generous, and this is but a small task."

"And if I don't do it?"

"Then we seek other means."

"And stop bein' so generous?"

The priest smiled. "Not exactly."

"I don't believe that," Donnan replied. "But I'll do it, I guess. What do you need me to do?"

Dwyer pulled out a small pack. "There is a city map and several scrolls. Each scroll has an address on it. Deliver them to the addresses, and place the scrolls in the drop slots. No need to talk to anyone. Although I do suggest you exit the Shadow Realm in an alleyway rather than an open street. No need to cause panic."

"When do you need this done?"

"By tomorrow will be sufficient. We're still working on getting you some sort of political position. Now, about your tutor. This took us a little effort to set up. You will be meeting her tomorrow at the library, after your fighting coach releases you."

Donnan noticed Blake was smirking again.

"The young lady's name is Aolani. She teaches at the secondary school, but apparently does tutoring in her spare time. I hope this meets with your approval."

His jaw dropped and he turned to Blake. "You did this?"

"I thought there might be an off-chance she'd know Arcana. And I was right."

He turned back to the priest, who was also smiling in amusement. "How much do I owe you for this one?"

"No charge for this, my Lord. She is a lovely young lady."

"Anythin' else?" he asked, not entirely comfortable with the turn of events.

"No. Just please deliver these messages for us by tomorrow."

Donnan picked up the sack. "Come on, Blake." Then he left. "What did you go and do that for?"

"Do what? Give you a chance to spend some quality time with Aolani?"

"Well, yeah. What am I supposed to tell her? I can't afford tutorin' on a dishwasher's salary, or Alain's guard salary either."

"Well, assuming she asks, just tell her you're doing work for the temple."

"That's a damn stupid idea," he snapped. "No one likes you guys. I don't want to scare her off."

"Well, how about you tell her your working as a messenger? That's legitimate, and nearly the truth," Blake suggested.

"I guess. I guess I could tell her I run messages around town. So what do I tell her about learnin' Arcana?"

"You could tell her you may have to interact with mages someday, depending on how far you're asked to carry messages. How about that?"

He thought this over. "I guess it will do. Don't know if she'll even ask about those things anyway."

"How do you like learnin' to fight?"

"Gods, I hurt. Clancy is relentless, and nothin' I do seems to be good enough."

"That's to be expected from his type."

"I guess so. I feel like I'm learnin' a lot though."

"When are you going to deliver those messages?"

"After Alain goes to work. Hey, Blake, this is goin' to sound stupid, but can I borrow some nicer clothes?"

"You can take what you want from the temple. That room is now your permanent guest room. You want to look good for her?" he asked coyly.

"Why do you make fun of me like this?"

"Because I can. And because you'd certainly do the same."

The day passed swiftly. Donnan went to the temple before delivering the messages to pick up the clothes and a paper and a pen from the desk. He dropped the clothes at his new apartment and tucked the pen and paper in his bag. He looked at the map of the city to get his bearings, then he stared at the wall. "Alright, I can do this. No problem," he thought. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the shadow.

And found himself in a truly odd place. It was dark, but he could see perfectly fine. There seemed to be no real height or depth, but his mind imposed these dimensions anyway. Then he noticed he was wearing the Armor. "Interestin'," he muttered. Suddenly the place filled with the sound of whispers. "Hello?" he asked.

"Welcome to our home, Master," came the answer from a darkling.

He jumped. It was standing next to him. "You-you live here?"

It nodded. "We all do."

"How many of you are there?"

"Many."

"That's not helpful."

"Sorry, Master."

"Never mind. How do I get to where I need to go?"

"Just start walking, and you will end up there," it answered.

"But I don't know where I'm goin'. I've just got an address in a city I've never been to," he protested. "I looked at a map, but here's no roads or landmarks or anythin' here."

"Just start walking, and you will end up there," it repeated.

He frowned. "Fine, but if I get lost, you're goin' to be in trouble."

"You will not get lost. Those who stray from the bright paths may get lost, but there are not part of this place. You are."

Feeling disturbed, he started to walk, and pictured in his mind a shadowy place to come out of. "Now this can't take me days to walk, or else the mages would never use this place. So it must take much less time to get where I'm going," he thought, "but I don't think there is time here. This is too weird."

After about an hour, he emerged in an alleyway, much to his surprise. He sent the Armor away, and looked for the first address. It turned out he was only a few blocks away. He recorded this address and what the place was on his own sheet of paper. Then he returned to the Shadow Realm and repeated the process, keeping careful records of where he was taking messages.

The next morning, Eliora went to the dining hall for breakfast. She couldn't help but notice how the young men were looking at her in an unfriendly fashion. She ignored them and got her food, determined not to even acknowledge them. She ate quickly, then went to Jomei's cottage for her language lessons.

"Well, that's enough for today," he said shortly before noon.

"It's a little early," she replied.

"I'd like to talk to you."

"About what? Am I not making enough progress?"

"No, no. You're doing just fine. In fact, you're picking up the language much faster than I thought you would. Did you pick up Arcana this fast?"

"No, not quite. But I couldn't devote half a day to it either, nor was I surrounded by people who spoke it," she answered.

"Well, you are making fine progress. I have no complaints about that. I thought we would use this time for you to talk to me."

"About what?" she repeated, genuinely puzzled.

"About whatever you like. For instance, about the trouble you seem to having making friends here," he suggested.

"Why do you want to hear about that?"

Confusion flickered across his face. "Why wouldn't I? It's my job."

"It is?"

"Eliora, forgive me if this is a rude question, but what exactly does the Order do in your country?" Jomei asked.

"They commune with the Light One. They seek blessings for our people. They counsel our government about important decisions. I'm even told they use their power to look toward the future, to help the government determine if a decision is a good one."

"Goodness. The Order here is not quite so involved with the governments."

"Why not?"

"Well, the governments don't seem to want the interference. Individual leaders may seek the counsel of the Order, but not entire political bodies."

"Then what does the Order do?" she asked, confused.

"We tend to counsel individuals. Help those in need. Try to feed the hungry, for instance. Heal the sick. We do seek blessings for people, and commune with our god. But I've never heard of using that power to see into the future," he replied.

"My Order is supposed to serve the people."

"So is mine. Apparently we do things differently. Your Order doesn't seem concerned with the individual."

"Of course not. It's the community that's important. The community always comes first. Well, it's supposed to anyway. Most people will choose the good of their family over the good of the community. So the Order advises the government for the good of the community."

"And what of the individuals?" he asked.

"That's what families are for," she replied instantly, a sad look on her face.

"Ah, I think I begin to understand. So you don't want to talk to me about the problems you're having?" he asked kindly.

"I'm sorry, but it doesn't seem proper. You're a stranger."

"Then why don't you visit your family? You have the ability to go where you want, when you want."

"I can't. Please don't ask why. I just can't go home," she cried emphatically.

"Well, alright," he replied, confused. "I won't press. But you are welcome to come talk to me anytime you like."

"Thank you for your kindness."

"It's my job. I'll see you tomorrow."

She stood up and left the priest's cottage. After dropping off her study materials, she ate lunch alone, then went out to the practice area. Aidan was there waiting for her.

"Come on. We'll start with a jog, as normal."

With a shrug, she followed him along the path. The afternoon passed swiftly. She got the feeling Aidan wanted to say something, but he only gave her further instructions, which she encouraged him to say in Northern. He was starting her on the basics of swordplay as well as continuing her hand-to-hand training. At dinner, he left her again for his friends. This time she didn't bother to stay, and instead went straight to her cottage after she was finished eating.

After an hour, she heard a knock on her door. She opened and found not to her surprise Aidan was standing there.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

She opened the door and gestured to the living room. There was a small couch, a low table, two chairs, an unused fireplace, and a few lamps hung up on the wall. Her study books were open on the table.

He took a seat in one of the chairs.

She sat on the coach but didn't close her books.

"I came to apologize."

"I told you last night, I accept your apology."

"Well, that's what you say, but I'm not sure I believe it."

"Why not?" she asked. "I did mean it. I try not to say things I don't mean."

"You mean you aren't angry?"

"I was. But I'm not now. I understand why you and your friends are behaving this way. I told you that last night."

"But you're not angry?" he asked, looking confused.

"Why should I be? You probably wouldn't be treated any better if you suddenly appeared on the doorstep to Nahaar. So no, I'm not angry. Sad, yes. Angry, no."

"You're really not angry?"

"No. But if you keep asking me, I may change my mind," she replied, risking a gentle teasing.

"Oh. Well, I am sorry I tried to trick you playing chess. That was a stupid thing to do."

"I agree."

He scratched his head. "Well, then, if all is forgiven, why don't you come play chess with me?"

"Are you asking because you really want my company, or because you're still feeling guilty?" she asked shrewdly, but not bitterly.

"That's insulting," he snapped.

"So's being condescending to me."

He glared at her for a moment, then relented. "You're right, damn it. It's like you're reading my thoughts or something. You're not, are you?"

She shook her head. "No. I've just paying attention. If you really want me to join your friends, I'll go. If not, I'm going to stay and study. And please, just be honest."

He just stared at her for a moment. "You're a confusing person."

"I've never been told that before. I've been called scatter-brained, flighty, forgetful, but never confusing. Would it make you feel better if I was angry?"

"Yes."

"I'm really not. You don't like me. I can understand that."

"It's not exactly that I don't like you. I just don't know you."

"Do you want to?"

"Well, it's not that simple," he answered, looking flustered.

"Why not?"

"You're just so different. You're the Avatar of a god, for crying out loud."

"So what? Does that mean I'm suddenly not human anymore?" she replied.

"Doesn't it?" he countered, honest curiosity on his face.

She leaned back on the couch. "Oh dear." She considered this for a moment. "Being female, foreign, and not a fighter only reminds you of how different I am." Unwonted, tears filled up her eyes. "It seems we really have a problem here," she remarked, her voice quavering a little. "There's not much I can do if you don't think I'm even human." A stray drop fell down her face, and she met his eyes. "You should go now."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant," he protested, seeing the tears in her deep brown eyes.

"You made your meaning quite clear. I'm not angry," she replied, fighting back sobs. "You should go now. I have a lot of work to do." She stood up and opened the door.

"I didn't mean to get you upset," he tried again.

She was losing the battle against the tears. "Go now," she choked out.

He stood up. "Look, I'm really sorry."

She just shook her head and pointed out the door.

"Ah, damn it," he swore in Northern, then marched outside.

She shut and locked the door, then went to her bed to cry. "If I'm not human, how come this hurts so much," she thought bitterly. "God, I want to go home. I want to see my family, Mother, Father, my sisters, and my brothers. I want to see my friends. I want to talk to Basir and Zeki and Ofira. They must be missing me so much right now. I want my life back." She wept until she fell asleep.

The next day found Donnan very nervous. He had gotten in trouble from his fighting coach for not paying attention, but he didn't care. He changed after his session into some nicer clothes, then made his way to the library. It was a large building in the downtown area, two stories high. Aolani was waiting in the foyer, wearing a lovely blue, long-sleeved dress.

"Aolani?" he said, walking up to her.

"Donnan, right? You're right on time," she greeted, standing up. "I hope you don't mind meeting at the library. It's a quiet place."

"I don't like havin' to pay to get in."

"Oh, that's quite alright. I have a life time membership, and I can bring a guest in for free." She walked up to the admission desk and pulled out a card. The secretary looked at it, recorded something in a notebook and waved her through. "Come on," she called.

The interior of the library was just rows upon rows of bookshelves, from floor to ceiling. There were spiral staircases at each corner to allow access to the second floor. Most shelves were only far enough apart to allow two people to stand next to each other. The shelves near the walls were pulled out farther and had tables and chairs for studying. In the center aisle was an information desk, stationed by three librarians.

"We'll go to the second floor. It's a little quieter," she said, and walked up one of the staircases.

He followed, feeling distinctly out of place.

The second floor was set up like the first, only there were more study areas and no information desk. She scanned the shelves before she stopped.

"This will do. This is the foreign language section anyway, which is what I was looking for," she explained in a quiet voice. She put her leather bag on the table and started to pull out paper, pens, and a couple of books. "You can sit down," she said with a bit of a smile.

"Sorry. It's my first time in here."

"I guess it would be. It's lovely, isn't it? More books than I could read in a life time."

"Yeah. But I haven't got the money to get in," he replied a touch bitterly.

She paused for a moment. "I don't agree with that policy. I think the library should be open to the public. But it costs money to maintain. I'd rather have a library even if people have to pay than not have a library at all."

"I guess."

She laid out a few books for him. "Alright, we'll start with the basics of vocabulary, then move to common verbs and verbs tense. Then we'll move to conjugating," she said, with a slight giggle on the last word. "We've only got an hour, so let's get started."

"Um, yeah."

"You should take notes so you can study in your free time," she urged gently.

"Oh, right," he replied, feeling stupid and a little disappointed she didn't ask any questions about him. But soon he forgot his nervousness as she started to teach him the unfamiliar language.

"Well, that's the hour," she said.

"So soon?"

"Yes, time does fly. Now, you remember to review your vocabulary words tonight. I may give you a quiz tomorrow."

"What do I get if I fail the quiz?" he asked.

"Nothing but my disappointment."

"Oh. And what do I get if pass the quiz?"

"Well, I don't know yet. I'll think of something," she replied with a smile, gathering up her books.

"I should try to talk to her," he thought. "I should say something. Anything."

"I'll meet you in the foyer tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks for your help."

"It's my job," she replied, and started to walk out.

He quickly followed. "I know. But you're bein' so nice."

"You think so? Well, just wait. My students think I'm a harsh teacher."

"I don't believe that. I'm sure you don't go easy on 'em, but I don't think you'd be a mean teacher."

"Well, thank you. I just try to do my best," she replied.

"So, um, why are you tutorin'?"

"I love to teach, but it really doesn't pay very much. It pays enough to take care of my rent and food, but I like to have a little extra money. So I tutor. It also keeps me from forgetting what I know. There isn't much call for Arcana around here."

"So why did you learn it?" he asked as they exited the library.

"Well, my father is the mayor. He thought it might be useful if he knew someone who knew the language, and I was the lucky choice. It turns out it's not a bad thing to know another language. It frees me to curse in class without my students knowing."

He laughed. "I can see how that'd be useful."

She paused. "I'm going home. Where are you going?"

"I should probably get home too. I've got to cook dinner before Alain wakes up."

"Oh, that's nice of you, taking care of the chores like that."

"Well, he does the hard work. It's only fair."

"Some men might feel it demeaning to do women's work, as it's called."

"Don't matter what it's called, it's got to be done," he shrugged.

"That's a very enlightened attitude. I find it quite refreshing. But I do need to go now. I'll see you next time." She started to walk away.

"Say something!" his mind screamed. "See you next time," he replied lamely, and watched her go. Then he turned and went to his own apartment.

Eliora finished up her dinner and returned to her cottage. It had been a week since she talked with Aidan. It was clear he realized he had upset her, but seemed at a loss as to what to do about it. He tried to be more encouraging as she started on swordplay, but that was a small comfort. Jomei noticed that she was depressed, but she resisted his gentle offers to talk about what was bothering her. She poured all her energy into learning to fight and learning the language. It kept her from dwelling on her loneliness.

"Eliora!" came Aidan's voice.

She was startled out of her reverie. "What? Sorry, hold on," she replied, rubbing her eyes.

"I've been knocking for five minutes," he said.

"I was studying. Why are you here?"

"Because I feel like I ought to do something."

"About what?"

"About what I said. It wasn't fair."

"You were honest. I can't ask for more than that," she replied.

"Look, can I come in?" he asked with a sigh.

She opened the door wide and gestured to a chair.

He took a seat. "I feel like I should say something, or do something. I really hurt your feelings."

"What would you say? What would you do? You can't change how you feel."

"Well, maybe I should. So what can I do to make you feel better?"

She considered this a moment. "Is it worth it to try?" she thought. "Can they really get past this power I've got?" She sighed mentally. "I have to try. I'm so lonely. It hurts being an outcast. It hurts having to shut everything up inside."

"Is there anything I can do?" he pressed.

She looked up. "Treat me like a person."

"Alright. How should I do that?" he asked.

"Well, what would you do if you met someone new normally?"

"Introduce myself, find out their name, where they come from. If it was someone my age, I'd ask them join us for cards and games. Spend some time together, see if this person could be a friend. Then go from there."

"Then why haven't you done that with me?"

"Because of how you showed up. Because of who you are. Because of what you are," he answered.

"Well, there's the first problem. I'm not a 'what.' I'm a 'who.' Do you treat clerics differently from other people because they can talk to the gods?"

"Um, no."

"Would you treat a mage any differently?"

"I might."

"What? Why?"

"I know my history. There's a big plain between Trevelan and the city-states that used to be fertile farmland until the Mage Wars. Now we call it the Charred Land. The mages scorched the ground, and nothing has grown there in nearly a thousand years," he answered, bitterness in his voice.

"Oh. I see."

"What do you see?"

"You're afraid of me," she answered in a quiet voice.

"Afraid? Afraid? Don't be silly," he replied. "I'm not afraid of you."

She glanced up, and the lamp next his head flashed brightly. He jumped. "Yes, you are."

"That wasn't nice," he snapped, flustered.

"No, it wasn't. How can I make you not afraid of me?"

"For starters, don't do things like that."

"I only did that to prove a point."

He glared at her a moment, then relented. "This isn't going well, is it?" he sighed.

"It doesn't seem like it. Maybe I am a 'what' and not a 'who.'" Tears started to well up in her eyes again.

"Oh, gods, don't cry. Not again. I'm trying to be nice."

"Then be nice. Let me join your games. I'm not that different, really. I already know chess. Your friends seem to do the same things mine did – talk and play games. We drank coffee and not alcohol, and of course there were more women, but that aside, you have pretty much the same activities," she replied earnestly, blinking back her tears.

"Really? Well, I guess that's something. Would you like to go play chess with me?"

"Do you mean it?"

"Sure."

She considered this, trying to determine his sincerity. "Alright. I'll play."

He stood up. "Let's go."

She followed him to the dining hall. The other young men looked at them curiously, but didn't object when they both sat down at a board.

"Gold or silver?" he asked, in Northern.

"Silver. You can go first."

The game was over in less than half an hour, with Eliora emerging victorious.

"Damn. How long have you been playing this game?"

"Since I was four years old."

"Four?" he sputtered. "Four? I didn't even hear about this game until I was nearly an adult. Is that common for your people?" He re-set the pieces and started another game. It took about the same amount of time, but was punctuated with conversation. Eliora tried to stay in Northern, but there were points where she just switched to the Light language because she didn't have a good enough grasp on Northern to form complex sentences.

"Yes and no. I was an unusual child. Father didn't teach my siblings until they were about eight. None of them stuck with it very long."

"Eight is still really young. Good gods. Why teach a child a game as complicated as this?"

"To build up strategic thinking skills. But as I said, I was unusual. Most children stop playing when they reach their adolescent years."

"I take it you didn't stop?" he asked dryly, as she took down another soldier.

"I like the game and always have."

"Do you play gambling games?"

"Goodness, no. I'll play cards, but never gamble. I've got no luck."

"Oh, pity that. I'm good at those games," he replied.

"I will play if you like, but only for points or something. Not money. Besides, I haven't got any money."

"That's alright. I'm content to get trounced at chess tonight," he remarked as she took a mage.

"Would you prefer I go easy on you?" she asked with a touch of a smile.

"Absolutely not. If I'm going to lose, I'll go down in blaze of glory."

"I win."

"That's not a blaze of glory, Aidan," snickered one of other men.

"Rather pathetic, I'd say," chimed in another.

"Oh, yes, then why don't you play her and you do better?" he shot back, but it was clear he wasn't really angry.

"Gods, no," he replied. "You're the best player here. If she can beat you, I don't stand a chance. And I don't feel like getting humiliated tonight."

She giggled.

"So I'm the only one brave enough to play her? I see how it is."

A tall, blond haired, good-looking young man with intense dark violet eyes and rather dark complexion compared to the other Northern men walked over to the board. "I'll play," he offered.

She only had a vague idea of who this person was. He seemed to be quiet and serious and generally kept to himself. The group reacted with some surprise to his gesture, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. Aidan didn't seem entirely pleased.

"You're going to lose," he warned.

"My name is Davin," he said, holding out his hand.

She smiled and took his hand. "I'm Eliora. Pleased to meet you."

The evening passed quickly and Eliora felt she was making good progress with the community. By the time she returned to her cottage, she knew almost every young man's name, and she had won every single game of chess.

It was Donnan's fourth meeting with Aolani, and he was getting more and more annoyed at himself for not having the courage to ask her out to dinner.

"Alright, that's the lesson," she said.

"What? We've got fifteen minutes left."

"Right." She pulled out a sheet of paper. "And here's that quiz I promised you. You've got ten minutes."

"What? Oh, alright," he replied, and started the test.

"Time," she announced, and snatched the paper away.

"Hey. I wasn't finished," he protested.

"I warned you that I was a harsh teacher," she replied with a smile. Then she started to grade the test.

"I wish you'd had given me warnin'. I wasn't ready."

"You shouldn't make excuses until you know your results. In fact, you shouldn't make excuses even if you did poorly. I'm sure you know how much studying you've done, and how much you need to do," she scolded gently, looking at him over the top of the paper.

He flushed sheepishly and was quiet.

"There you go." She handed the paper back to him and recorded the result in her notebook. "You answered eighty-three percent of the questions correctly. I want you to look over the test and make sure you know what you did wrong."

"Is that a passin' grade?"

"In my classes, it's a good grade. However, it could be better. I wouldn't demand one hundred percent, but I encourage my students to aim for at least ninety-five percent."

"So what do I get for gettin' better than ninety-five percent?" he asked.

"My students get honors for graduating with high marks. Those I tutor must be content with my approval."

"Say something!" he thought to himself. He steeled himself as they packed up their notebooks. "How 'bout if I do well, you let me buy you dinner or somethin'?" he asked hopefully.

"Donnan, you're very sweet, but I don't think it would be exactly appropriate, since you're my student."

He fought back his disappointment as they walked out the door. "You're not givin' me grades or anythin'. It's not like I'm bribin' you."

"That's true. But I'm seeing someone else right now."

"Well, we could just be friends," he offered, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Friends?" she repeated, with a raised eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You've already asked me out once."

His jaw dropped in surprise. "You remember?" he stuttered.

"Indeed I do. I'm not sure how friendship would work, since you are clearly attracted to me," she replied bluntly, but a delicate blush was rising on her cheeks.

"Ah, damn. Well, you can't blame me for tryin'," he replied, crestfallen.

She patted his arm sympathetically. "I'll tell you what. If you can pull your quiz average to above a ninety-five percent, we can go have coffee sometime. As friends."

"You mean it?" he asked, brightening up considerably.

"Well, we can try. I do have some male friends. Perhaps I won't be as attractive once you've taken a few more of my quizzes."

He smiled. "I appreciate you givin' me a chance. A lot of people like you don't look twice at people like me."

She sighed. "You mean wealthy people ignore the poorer ones. I try not to judge people by those sorts of things. But I admit I have biases. Sometimes I've gotten in trouble because I can't see past good breeding and family wealth."

"I wonder if she means Reese. Maybe I can ask about that later," he thought. "Well, that's alright. Sometimes I think all rich people are snotty and stuck up. Then I meet nice ones like you."

"Thank you." She looked up at the street sign. "Isn't this your street?"

"Yeah. Too bad."

She laughed a little. "I'll see you next time. And you make sure to study."

"You're goin' to surprise me again with a quiz?"

"Of course. If I told when I was going to quiz you, you'd only study for the test, not your own knowledge."

"Maybe your kids are right about you bein' a harsh teacher."

She laughed again. "See you next time."

"Next time," he returned, and went home.

That evening after Alain had left for work, he met Blake.

"Did you say something today?" Blake asked immediately.

"Yes, I did."

"Well?"

"She said she'd let me take her out if I did well on her quizzes."

"Well, that's good."

"But I told her I'd just be friends," Donnan added.

"What? Why? Just be friends? Oh, gods, now you're doomed."

"Well, I had to say somethin'," he replied defensively. "She's still seein' someone else."

"This isn't going to make it easier to win her over. Gods, 'just friends.' What a stupid thing to say. It's obvious you're attracted to her."

"Thanks for your support, Blake. She knows I like her. She agreed anyway."

"Well, that's something, I guess. Are you still going to spend the night in the temple?" the acolyte asked with a smirk.

"You're a jackass. Why do I talk to you?"

"You know why. Now, are you going to discard, or just sit there with a stupid grin on your face?"

And so the evening passed.

The next week passed much more pleasantly for Eliora, although she still made sure she left the group early enough to study more of the language. Being immersed in Northern was aiding her progress, and she and Jomei discussed a possible trip to Mulago in the next few weeks to recruit a mage tutor.

She was playing chess with Aidan that evening when she realized someone was missing. "Where's Davin?" she asked. He had played one game of chess with her every evening since he introduced himself.

Aidan looked around. "Don't know," he shrugged, and moved a piece.

"You don't know? Isn't he part of the group?"

"He's char-kin. He goes off on his own all the time," he replied, disdain evident in his voice. "Not my business what he does."

The others who overheard their exchange were nodding in agreement, and echoing his remarks, as well as his sentiments. A few even looked a touch jealous, including Aidan.

"Don't worry about him. He'll come around. Or he won't. Doesn't matter to me." Then he took one of her warriors.

"Well, that's interesting," she thought. "I guess not everyone is as close as I first thought. Don't they care that something could be wrong? They sound like they don't even like him very much. I wonder why that is." She pondered this for about an hour, until she won the game.

"How do you do that?" he demanded, as he realized that she had once again beaten him.

"Practice. It's getting late. Please excuse me."

"We have got to teach you some other games," he sighed.

She stood up and went outside. The lanterns from the demian city above illuminated the area with soft torchlight. It was a chilly night and it was getting late, but she decided to walk around and see if she could find the young man. "I'm being silly," she thought as she walked. "I barely know these people, and here I am looking for one in a strange city." She sighed. "I wonder why the others don't seem to really like Davin. That word they used, char-kin, it sounded like an insult. He's got those intense violet eyes, and he always seems so serious. Or so sad." She shook her head. "What am I going to say if I do find him?"

She walked for nearly an hour, almost forgetting why she had set out as she explored the city. The dining hall was on the western side, and the majority of the cottages were to the east of it, a little distance away. Only about seven cottages were to the west of the dining hall, and they stood at the end of a broad but winding dirt road. There was also a large stable that seemed to serve just those cottages. She guessed that must be where the traders came in with their goods and stayed on their journeys. She already knew the gym and training area was to the south, so she headed east. Eventually she stumbled into a clearing that was on the edge of a steep rise, with the floor of the forest dropping several feet and then leveling out again. She looked up and realized that because of the topography, she could actually see the sky clearly. For the first time in nearly a month, she could see the moon and stars. "My gods," she breathed, staring at the unfamiliar constellations. Tears stung her eyes as she realized how much she missed the view of the night sky. She was startled by a creaking sound coming from the trees near her. Turning, she caught a glimpse of some sort of platform about thirty feet up the trunk, hidden by branches, but she was sure someone or something was up there. She walked around the tree looking for a way up. The closet branch to the ground was about ten feet up, but someone had nailed a ladder into the thick trunk.

"I must be crazy," she thought, staring up the tree. "Here's hoping I don't break my neck." She climbed the ladder, and then noticed the branches were well spaced for climbing the rest of the way up. Holding the branches with a white-knuckled grip, she made her way up and onto the platform.

It was semi-circular in shape, extending about four feet from the trunk and supported by a number of branches. It had a waist high guard rail at the edge of the platform, and there were hooks in the trunk to hold quivers of arrows. From one was hanging a lantern. In the dim light, she could see a young man staring up at the stars.

"Hello?" she called.

"Eliora? What are you doing here?" Davin asked, without turning around. He was leaning against the lower slat in the guard rail.

"I was just taking a walk. That's all. Is this a watch tower?"

"Sometimes. But not right now."

She stood there for a minute as they lapsed into silence. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. I'll leave you to your grieving."

His head jerked around. "Grieving? What makes you think that's what I'm doing?"

"Just the way you're holding yourself, if that's the right term. You're all alone out here. You're clearly thinking about something. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"No, no." He sighed and turned his attention back to the stars. "You are right. I'm surprised anyone noticed."

"Well, maybe I did because I've been grieving a lot too."

"I've noticed you seem awfully sad." He sighed again. "Well, you found me. Come sit down."

She took a seat next to him, but wasn't quite brave enough to dangle her feet over the edge. Instead she half-crossed her legs and hugged her knees.

"Can you understand me alright?"

"Well, speak slowly and be patient, and I'll get your point," she answered.

"Will you talk to me?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" she returned, surprised.

"Because I'm a stranger to you. You've figured out that I'm grieving. No doubt you'll ask why. Then I'll ask you why you're so sad. You may not want to tell me, and I can't blame you for that," he answered, still staring at the stars.

Now she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. "You-you're a stranger to me?" she stuttered.

"Aren't I?"

"Well, I guess. But I never thought about it like that. I keep thinking I'm the stranger here."

"It cuts both ways. We don't know you, you don't know us. And we've been pretty rude by trying to keep you out. That's hardly fair to you. It's probably not fair to us either." He finally turned to her. "You seem like a nice person, and you've been paying more attention than we've given you credit for."

"Thank you, I guess," she stammered, blushing. "I have to say, I'm surprised you're talking to me like this. You're always so quiet with the rest of the group."

"I'm something of a stranger too. I arrived here shortly before you did." He turned back to the guard rail.

"I guess something bad happened to cause you to come here. To cause you to be grieving."

He nodded, but offered no explanation.

"I am sorry for whatever happened."

They sat there a few moments in contemplative silence.

"Why do you grieve?" he asked, a slight quaver of emotion remaining in his voice.

"I've lost my family. They aren't dead, but I can't ever see them again."

"Why not?"

"Because the Order sent me here to do what I have to do. I can't go back because...," she paused. "I'll be honest. Either he'll take it well or he won't, but I'm not going to lie," she thought.

"Because why?" he prompted.

"Because if I went back I'd put them in danger."

"You were sent here to deflect the danger from your own country?" he asked, a touch bitterly.

"Yes. But it wasn't my choice, and I don't think it's fair. I've put all of you in danger, and you've had no say in the matter."

"You could go back."

"The Order told my family that I'm dead. Gods, would they worry if they knew what happened to me. I might be dead in less than a year anyway. Best to let them move on," she answered, her voice suddenly choked with sobs.

"That's harsh. Why don't you defy the Order and go see them anyway?"

"I can't do that. Community comes first. Family comes first. If the Order feels it's safer for me to stay away, then I'll stay away. No matter how much it hurts." Tears streamed down her face. "I'm sorry I've put you all in danger too. Maybe I should go back."

He sighed and turned to face her. "You're crying? Gods, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry you spoke your mind. It's kind of nice. No, 'nice' isn't the right word. I don't know the right word," she sighed. Mentally she added, "Curse this language."

"Aidan said you cried a lot," he said, offering her a handkerchief.

"I can't help it. I've never been alone. Never in my life. I've always had my parents. My sisters. My brothers. My friends. Then the Order leaves me alone in a strange city, filled with strange people, who speak a language I don't know. I seem to be the only woman my age, I'm not a fighter, and I'm the Avatar of a god. I'm empty inside. I've lost everyone and everything I've ever known and loved." Then she dissolved completely into sobs.

Davin stared a moment, surprised. Then he turned back to the stars until her sobs subsided into sniffles, looking very embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I should be stronger."

"Don't be sorry you're sad. I think I understand why you do seem to cry so much. We haven't been very nice to you. You've been isolated by gender, custom, and language."

"The men are being nicer. I'm allowed to play chess now."

"They aren't a bad lot. Just a little dense. Most came here to fight and be warriors. Most don't understand those that came here because they had no other place to go."

"Like you?" she inquired.

"Like me. And like you. I could tell you carried a burden of sorrow. I didn't realize it ran so deep. I'm sorry I treated you so lightly when you first sat down with me."

She looked him over. "I'm surprised you're talking to me like this. So honestly? Is that the right word? I don't think you talk to the men like this."

"I don't, because they don't understand. They've left their families and friends to come here, to be great warriors, to defend the demians in righteous battles against bandits and evil warlords," he replied, disgust evident in his voice. "Being able to fight doesn't make one great. And being on the wrong side of the law doesn't make one evil." He looked at her sharply, as though startled. "But perhaps I've said too much," he commented darkly, seeing her puzzled look.

It took her a moment to process the information. She was still not fluent, and heavy emotion was causing him to lower his voice. Then she smiled reassuringly. "It's alright. I only understood half of that."

"That's a bit of a relief, frankly. You're easy to talk to. I didn't expect that."

"It's easy to talk to a person who's willing to listen. I'm glad you're talking to me. It's nice to be treated like a person again. It's nice that you've decided to at least try to trust me."

"I really hadn't planned on saying so much, but you do seem to understand my feelings, if not my words, and what's said is said. It can't be taken back."

"Would you take it back?" she asked.

He thought about this. "That remains to be seen." He stood up. "It's getting late. I should return to my cottage, and so should you."

She stood up as well.

He gestured to the natural ladder.

Cautiously and slowly she climbed down, with a death grip on the branches.

He nimbly climbed down and instead of using the proper ladder, swung from the lowest branch and fell to the ground in a graceful crouch. "Goodnight, Eliora."

"Goodnight, Davin. And thank you for giving me a chance to show that I can be trusted, like a real friend and not just someone who plays board games in the evenings. Even if you didn't mean to talk so much."

He smiled, then turned and walked away.

She returned to her cottage, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

Donnan was practicing with his fighting coach when he heard Blake call out his name.

"Damn it," snapped the grizzled man. "Well, go see what he wants."

Donnan ran out of the practice yard to the front of the house. "What is it? Clancy hates to be interrupted."

"Dwyer would like to see you before you go in for tutoring this afternoon."

"About what?" he asked suspiciously.

"I think he's got a job for you."

"What kind of job?"

"I don't know. I'm just the messenger," Blake replied irritably.

"I thought that was my job," he retorted. "Fine. I'll stop by the temple. But I don't want to be late for tutorin'."

"No, no. Of course not," Blake smirked.

"Go away," he ordered, but affectionately.

Blake bowed with a flourish. "Of course, my Lord," he said in a low voice, then quickly dashed away.

"Why do I put up with him?" he thought. Then he returned to his fighting lessons. Clancy was teaching him the basics of swordplay, and had been quite surprised by Donnan's strength. Now he was teaching Donnan how to use that strength to compensate for a lack of skill.

After lunch he went to the temple and tried to go to Dwyer's study, but found himself lost in the twisty passages. "How hard can this be?" he thought irritably. "Where is that study?"

"Follow me," came a raspy voice from the shadows.

He jumped and glared at the darkling. "Stop doing that," he snapped.

"You called us, Master. We must obey."

"Alright, then I'll have to stop doing that," he thought, disturbed. "Well, lead on," he said.

The darkling disappeared into the shadows.

"I hate doing this," he thought, but followed anyway.

The creature lead him to the study within a couple of minutes, but Donnan elected to emerge on the outside and knock politely.

"Enter," called Dwyer. "Ah, good, I'm glad you got Blake's message."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"He has duties, my Lord. Please sit. I have some good news for you."

"What?"

"I've gotten you a job, so you can fill up your mostly empty afternoons."

He glared at the priest. "My afternoon aren't empty. I study Arcana or I work out."

"Well, that's good to hear. Don't worry, this shouldn't take up too much of your time. I know you wouldn't want to miss your tutoring sessions," he said with a smile, which Donnan did not return. "I've contracted your services for the Iron Guild."

"What services?"

"Your messenger services, of course."

"Did you tell them what I am?" he demanded, suddenly nervous.

"No, of course not. Some of their activities require more discretion than others, and so they were looking for a more discreet messenger. Through a network of contacts, we've made this business arrangement."

"Discreet? You mean they're smugglin' somethin'."

The priest gave a slight nod. "Your honesty may be an asset elsewhere, but in these circles, it would help if you developed a little more tact."

"I call 'em like I see 'em. Does the Guild know it's the Order helpin' them?"

"Not as such. Asking too many questions is also not an asset in these circles."

He thought about this. "And what if I can't be trusted? What if I find out what they're smugglin' and where?"

"That is entirely up to you," he answered, with a small, ugly smile. "I have no doubt you've tracked where we've sent you."

Donnan tried not to look surprised. "So what if I have?" he challenged.

"I find it encouraging."

"What? Why?" he asked, ironically finding the priest's statement discouraging.

"It shows some progress."

"Progress for what?" he snapped, annoyed. "Can't you people give straight answers?"

"Progress toward becoming a proper representative of the Dark One. And yes, we can, but we generally choose not to."

"Proper representative? That's insultin'. What do you want me to do? Go out and kill people? Destroy stuff? That'll make me a proper representative, and also make me dead pretty damn quick."

"Right now all I would ask of you is some sign, some demonstration, that you have accepted your power and aren't afraid to use it," Dwyer answered mildly.

"But I am afraid, and I haven't accepted this," he thought. "So what, do you want me to go flood the river or somethin'?" he asked.

"While that would be a good demonstration, random destruction is generally a poor idea."

"Well, then what do you want?"

He sighed. "I see that I've upset you. Perhaps I shall pray on this matter, and be able to give you a better answer later."

"I'd watch what you pray for," Donnan replied.

"Believe me, my Lord, I know the risks of prayer to my god." He pulled several envelopes out of a desk drawer. "These are the letters for you to deliver. Please have them delivered by tomorrow. I also have a list of places for you to go to pick up some letters."

"You want me to talk to people?"

"Don't worry, they will be expecting someone to come get the messages."

"Wait a minute. Who in their right mind would give a message that probably contains some pretty damnin' information to a stranger? How do I know I've found the right person anyway, and won't end up talkin' to a undercover guard?"

"We're going to leave that up you."

"Have you told people what I look like?" Donnan demanded, suddenly annoyed and a little scared. He felt the less information people had about him, the less likely they were to figure out who he was.

"They've been told to expect a young man with a Renfrew drawl to his voice. That's all."

"Oh, this is great. Just great. I hope you don't have anythin' important ridin' on these messages, 'cause I don't know how I'm goin' to get this done. I can't trust anyone, and no one is goin' to trust me."

"To help you out, I've acquired a small lie detection spell. It seems simple enough to use, and the instructions don't seem too complicated." He pushed forward a scroll.

"Won't people know I'm doin' somethin'?"

"My understanding of arcane magic is that the words and hand gestures are used to help the mage focus their power to get the desired effect. A sufficiently practiced mage need not use the hand gestures or say the words aloud to get that effect."

"When do you want me to do the pick-up?"

"I'd like you to bring me the messages in three days. That should give you enough time to practice the spell and understand its effects."

"I don't like it," he snapped, taking the envelopes and scroll and shoving them in his pack.

The priest shrugged. "You say you don't like it, but what are you going to do about it?" His statement was quite clearly a challenge.

He glared at the other man and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "You want to start a fight with me? I don't have to do anythin' for you."

"That is, of course, your choice. We don't have to do anything for you either."

"I'm the Avatar of your god. You want me to win this stupid fight, right? So you've got to help me out."

"Of course we want you to win, my Lord. But we don't have to help you out on your terms. We'll help on our terms."

"For now," he shot back icily, then stormed out of the room. He went back to his apartment and forced himself to calm down before his tutoring session with Aolani. When he was done, he was more frustrated than before since he still had not managed to pull his grade up high enough to take her out.

"What's wrong, little brother?" Alain asked at dinner.

"My grade average still isn't high enough."

"Ah. Well, don't worry, that'll come. You seem to be workin' real hard on it. Maybe too hard."

"What do you mean?"

"I know somethin's wrong. I don't know what. You've been actin' funny these past few weeks. I know you said you're workin' for the temple, but they've got you out at odd hours. I know you've spent nights over there."

He looked up at his older brother in surprise. "You know?"

"Sure. I'm still lookin' out for you, as best I can. I get the feelin' you're keepin' somethin' from me."

Donnan looked guilty, but said nothing.

"That's what I thought. I'm worried. I swear somethin's different about you. You carry yourself differently. You seem kind of sad for some reason. You're actin' all strange and nervous. What's wrong, little brother?" Alain asked.

"Everythin' Alain, everythin'. But I can't tell you. It'd only make things worse. I don't need to make things worse."

"Please tell me. You look scared."

He put his head in his hands. "Gods, I am scared. Things are happening to me, and around me, and I don't know what to do about it," he thought. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's just better this way, and don't ask any more questions. I can't answer them anyway."

"Donnan, I'm your brother. I'll understand. Whatever's wrong, whatever trouble you got into, I'll help you any way I can."

"Thanks, but there's just some things I've got to deal with by myself."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I've got to deal with things on my own."

"Alright. Just remember, I'm here if you want to talk."

"Thanks," he repeated gratefully. He started to clear the dishes away.

"I expect you'll be goin' out again?"

"I hadn't decided yet. Are you?"

"I'm kind of tired, so probably not."

"Maybe I'll stay here until you go on patrol. We can play cards or somethin'. We haven't done that in a long time," Donnan suggested.

Alain smiled. "Sounds fine to me, little brother."

"Well, Donnan, I'm very proud of you," Aolani said at the end of their lesson a week later. She handed him a piece of paper. "With this last quiz, you've pulled up your average to above a ninety-five percent. You must really have been studying hard."

"Yeah. I spend my afternoons studyin'."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. So, this means I can take you out, right?" he asked eagerly.

She smiled. "Yes, but as friends."

"So dinner's out?"

She nodded.

"How about coffee after the lesson's over one afternoon?" he offered.

"That sounds alright."

"How 'bout today?"

"Sorry, I have plans this evening," she declined, looking amused.

"Oh. Well, what day's good for you?"

"We can go after our next tutoring session."

"If you give me a quiz, and I don't do well enough to keep a ninety-five, will you still go for coffee?"

"Of course I will," she replied, laughing. "That would just be cruel. I'm not that cruel of a teacher."

"Oh, good," he said, looking relieved. They packed away their books and went outside.

"I say, the weather has certainly gotten worse in an hour," she remarked. The cold wind was whipping at her strawberry blond ponytail and long plum-colored dress. Even though it wasn't yet sundown, the sky was dark with heavy black clouds. "It has been a little dry. We could use the rain. Strange how fast the storm came in though."

Donnan looked at the sky, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling uncomfortably. Something didn't feel right. "Yeah, strange," he echoed.

"Well, I'll see you next time," she said.

That pulled his head out of the clouds. "Can I walk you home?"

"That's sweet, but I'm not going home. I have to meet someone."

"Oh," he replied lamely, disappointed. "Well, I could walk you there."

"Next time," she repeated firmly, and walked away.

He watched her go, tempted to follow and see who she was meeting. Thunder rumbling, causing him to jerk his head up to the sky again. When he looked back, she had disappeared. Then he went home.

"It's goin' to be a nasty night for patrol," Alain remarked. Wind and rain whipped at the windows.

"Do you have to go out?"

"Of course I do. It's my job."

"This is a bad night, Alain. A very bad night."

"Eh, just another storm. 'Bout time too. It's been awful dry around here."

"I just don't like it."

"What, you worried, little brother?"

"Yeah, I'm worried. I don't know, somethin's not right out there."

Now Alain was worried. Normally he'd dismiss such a remark, but Donnan seemed oddly sincere. "Well, I'll watch out, then," he replied uncertainly.

He noticed how Alain was looking at him. "Just don't catch cold," he returned with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

"You goin' out tonight?"

"I thought about it, but I don't fancy the thought of gettin' soaked through if I don't have to."

"Good for you," Alain sighed. "Nights like these are hard on my armor." He stood up, gathered his weapons, and left for the evening.

Donnan cleaned up and pulled out a book, but found he couldn't concentrate. Thunder seemed to rumble constantly, and he felt curiously restless, nor could he shake the feeling that there was something unnatural about the storm outside. Near midnight, he just couldn't stand doing nothing anymore and went outside.

Lightning forked through the sky, the wind howling so loudly the thunder couldn't be heard. The cold rain was like stinging pellets against his skin. The clouds obscured the moon and stars, the streetlights hadn't been lit or had been blown out, and all the shutters were closed. It was a very dark and eerie night. In less than two minutes, he was soaked through, but curiously, he didn't feel cold.

"This is all wrong. All wrong," he thought, but unable to figure out what felt so wrong. It was cold and rainy, and not entirely unusual for the middle of autumn. Lightning illuminated the sky again, and to the north he saw something that was nearly unheard of for the middle of autumn. It was a twister, large and black, swirling toward the city.

"Light One have mercy," he thought, as the lightning faded, and the twister was lost in the darkness. "That could wreck half the town." The Dark power within him started to move. "Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm not stopping that thing," he thought, in response, trying to quiet it. But it was no use. Now the power within him was moving, pushing, seeking an outlet. He started to feel cold, but it was an internal feeling, not external. He continued to stare at the sky and became aware that he could now see the twister. In fact, he could see perfectly well in the dark. "What in the world is wrong with me?" he thought, getting scared.

The storm seemed to speed up. He could tell it was nearly a quarter of a mile wide at the base, and that it would reach the city proper in less than ten minutes.

Dark power surged within him, and he couldn't hold it back. Cold was flooding through his body, along with fear, despair, and anger. He took a few deep breaths to calm down, then stared again at the storm. It was racing toward the city. "People will die," he thought. "Alain could die." He shook his head. "This is a bad idea," he thought, but he had made up his mind. He summoned the Armor and flew into the air, battling the high winds. Then he headed straight toward the monster storm.

He was within less than a thousand feet of it when it suddenly occurred to him he had no idea how to control the storm. "No help for it now," he thought. He reached out with his mind, sensing the size and strength of the twister. Not quite sure how it was happening, he became part of the storm. He used his magic to calm the raging winds. Time seemed to slow down as he focused on his task. Eventually the storm had been subdued, and now was nothing more than a rain storm, with the occasional flash of lightning.

He flew back to the apartment building and landed in the back alleyway. "I think that only took about half an hour," he thought. He kept his wits about him long enough to send the Armor away. Stumbling with exhaustion, he managed to return to the apartment, lock the door behind him, and collapsed into bed, wet clothes still on.

Eliora felt she was making good progress in fitting into the community. She had been taught some gambling games, and lost quite badly at them. However, she was proving to be quite a formidable opponent in any game that required strategy. Being able to talk to the young men helped improve her language skills. She also noticed she was starting to attract some attention from the young men, and she wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

"So, Jomei, when can I go to Mulago?" Eliora asked, when their language session was over. "Last week you said you'd talk to Hialmar about it."

"I did talk to him yesterday. The Council doesn't think you're ready to go out on your own yet."

Her face fell. "What? Why not? It's been almost a month. I've had intensive language studies. I can converse without too much trouble. Surely with knowing Arcana that would be enough to find a tutor."

"Well, it's the Council's decision. They think you are making fine progress, but there's no need to rush things right now. The StormBringer has yet to make a move. It seems we can afford to be patient."

"But I'm ready," she protested. "I already know something about the Arcane Academies. It seems my people have had more favorable dealings with the mages in the past few decades than yours."

"I'm sorry, Eliora, that's the will of the Council. You must wait. Perhaps in another couple of weeks we can arrange for a visit to Mulago."

"But Jomei, the longer you wait, the less training I'm going to have when I do eventually fight the ShadowWalker."

The priest winced. "I wish you wouldn't use that title."

"And I wish you would. Lending such fear to a title only increases his power. I can do this, Jomei. I can go to Mulago. I'll visit the Academy and speak to one of the teachers. They can direct me to a willing tutor."

"Do you think it would be that easy?" he asked, but not angrily. "You can't just walk into one of those places. Why should they help you? No doubt they would wonder why you haven't attended the Academy in the first place. You'll be all alone in a strange city and a strange culture. We can't follow you."

"I know it won't be easy, but I have a plan all worked out," she replied confidently.

"Well, that's good. Write it down and I'll submit it to the Council for review."

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know."

She sighed. "Do you think I'm ready to go out in the world?"

He looked her over. "I think you could, but I can't convince the Council. They were expecting a fighter or a warrior. Until you meet that expectation, I think they would rather keep you here where you are protected."

"Protected?" she repeated. "You're protecting me? Isn't that backwards?"

"You're supposed to fight for us, but until you are ready, we'll protect you. Doesn't that make sense? The community watching out for the most important member."

She considered this. "I guess I can see your point. But I don't like it. I'm strong, but I'm not a fighter. I have other training that could be useful. I know I could talk to these mages. I know I could find a tutor."

"I'm sure you could, but it's not up to me. I think we both know that it's going to take time for the people here to really accept you, especially as the LightBearer. I'm glad you seem to be getting along better with the young men, but the older men are a bit more set in their ways, and they don't know you as I do."

"They haven't really tried to learn, have they?" she retorted, then immediately scolded herself for getting angry. "I'm sorry, Jomei. I know these things take time. I guess I was hoping since I managed to win over the young men, the others would soon follow. What's the term when one thing happens and others just start to happen because of it?"

"A domino reaction," he answered with a smile. "I'm very glad your spirits have improved and that you have made some friends. Hopefully the Council will take this to be a good sign. But it takes time to build trust. Please be patient."

She sighed. "Isn't there anything else you can do? You're the priest."

"This isn't your home, Eliora. My opinion has no more weight than anyone else's. I've tried to get them to see their biases. I've even prayed to the Light One to help them get past those biases. There's nothing more I can do, and the god does what It will. Have you tried praying?"

"No. It's not common for the individual to pray. It's up to the Order to send prayers to god."

"Anyone can pray. It may make you feel better, if nothing else."

She considered this, but remembered the last time she had prayed to the Light One. She wasn't sure she wanted any more answered prayers from the god.

"Now, you're dismissed. Go get some lunch."

She left the cottage, ate the midday meal, and went to the workout yard. Thunder rumbled in the distance as Eliora worked out with Aidan.

"Looks like a storm is coming in from the north. Big one, too, it looks like," he said.

"I was wondering if it was ever going to rain here," she commented, blocking a shot.

"It's been dry this season. And that's bad."

"Why?"

"Everything is too dry. One stray bolt of lightning and this whole forest could go up like kindling."

"Doesn't this city have some way to deal with fires?"

"There are demian runes and things that protect the trees, but the people are still in danger from getting burned or suffocated by smoke. And our cottages aren't protected. Their city will be fine. Ours will not," he answered.

Lightning forked through the black clouds that were far to the north. "How would you know if a fire was coming if it started miles away?"

"That's the sort of thing Jomei is supposed to keep on the lookout for. Now, enough talk. It's making you sloppy," he snapped, and slapped her leg sharply with the practice sword.

"Godsdammit," she swore in her own language, then blushed.

Aidan smiled, understanding the tone if not the phrase. "See, now that's the best sign that you're getting the hang of this."

The workout session continued until darkness started to fall. They put the weapons away and were heading to the dining hall when they heard a bell start to ring from somewhere in the demian treetops.

"Ah, damn it," he sighed. He grabbed her arm to speed her up and they sprinted to the dining hall. Several other people were also rushing toward the structure.

Hialmar and the other elders were standing at the head table, and the building quickly filled with all the humans.

"People, people, silence," he called. "Priest Jomei tells me that a fire has been sparked some miles to the north of us, and the wind is picking up now that the sun is setting. He estimates it will be here within an hour. So, you know the drill. Pack up what you'll need to survive for a few days, and head west toward the river. You have fifteen minutes. Now get going!"

Immediately the dining hall emptied out, and Eliora was pulled along with Aidan.

"What's going on? Are we supposed to leave?" she asked.

"Damn dry weather. Yes, there's a fire I'd guess about fifteen miles north of us, and it's heading straight toward us."

"What's going to happen to everyone?"

"We pack up some supplies, and head for the Azura River, about five miles to the west of us."

"What about the demians?" she asked.

"They have magic to allow them to evacuate. We don't. Now, go to your cottage, pack up a survival kit and a few personal possessions, then join up with the group on the west side. You got that?"

"But what if the wind pushes the fire faster?" she asked.

"Let's hope it doesn't," he answered, then ran off.

She stood there, remembering the visions from the Light One. Smoke was already blowing in from the north, and with the sun setting, she could see a dull orange glow. "I can stop this," she thought. "I have all this power. This is what it's for. I know I have no experience, but how am I going to get experience? I can already feel it from here. I should do something."

"Champion, what are you still doing here?" came the voice of Hialmar.

"What?" she blurted, surprised he was speaking to her.

"We are in danger, my Lady, and we can't lose you. Now, you will go directly to your cottage and pack. Do you understand that?"

"But I could help. I can control fire."

"Don't even think of that. You know nothing about controlling the elements. You are not ready to do something like this. Do as I say. Go to your cottage and pack right now," he ordered, his voice harsh.

She acquiesced to his command. Deeply ingrained teachings made it difficult for her to even consider defying the community leaders. "I'm supposed to listen to my elders. They're supposed to know what's best. But these people aren't my elders. They don't know what's best. I don't either for that matter," she thought, packing up some clothes and books. "They are the leaders here. I should respect that. But I think they're wrong. And I don't think they'll listen to me." The thought of disobeying was very foreign and uncomfortable to her. She had ceased her packing as she debated with herself. "But I've submitted myself to the laws of the community by staying here. So I've let them become my elders."

"Eliora, hurry up!" called Jomei from outside the cottage.

She heard him run off and turned back to her thoughts. "They've given me much, and I haven't given them anything in return. I could stop this fire and keep the city from burning." She abandoned the pack completely. "I can't just run away and let the city burn. I can stop the destruction, and I owe it to the community to try, even if I get in trouble from the Council later." She ran outside.

There were sounds coming from the demian city above, but she didn't stop to look, and the humans were filtering quickly toward the river. The area was already filled with a light smoke haze. Coughing slightly, she ran toward the stables. Several young men were trying to lead the frightened animals away.

"How can I grab a horse if they're holding them?" Her eye was drawn unexpectedly to a beautiful gold mare. The horse was surprisingly calm, and so was being left alone until the scared animals could be brought under control. She crept into the stable and approached the mare. It looked at her with intelligent eyes. She lead it into a pack of other horses and walked out of the stable. In the smoke haze and excitement, the men didn't notice a person in the group of horses. As soon as they were free of the wooden walls, she halted the mare with a light touch on her neck. The wind was picking up, blowing in more smoke. "No doubt you are more than you seem," she thought. "I hope you stay this calm as we approach the fire." She mentally summoned the Armor, mounted the mare, and galloped off to the north.

Eliora headed straight to what she felt was the heart of the fire. She wondered briefly why the horse was being so brave and cooperative, but she turned her attention to the fire. Thick and choking smoke was being brought in by the wind. Somehow the horse managed to avoid tripping in the undergrowth or on exposed tree roots. She lost track of time as the orange haze closed in and she could hear the popping sound of burning branches. Forest animals raced past them. Abruptly she pulled the horse to a stop. "Stay," she thought, and walked forward. She wished for a sort of cloak or something to cover her mouth with to filter out the smoke. To her surprise, a covering much like a desert cloak suddenly appeared. She covered her head with the hood and pulled up the mask, then walked forward.

She came to a small rise in the forest floor, and saw the inferno blazing nearly thirty feet high and stretching for over a quarter mile. "Light One have mercy," she thought. "What am I doing?" Bright and hot, the conflagration was moving quickly and consuming everything in its path. Then she became aware of the power within her, like a smoldering ember, quiet but unmistakably present. "No, I can do this," she thought, trying to quell the fear. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, sensing the fire; its height, length, and intensity. Not quite sure of what she was doing, or how she was doing it, she felt herself become part of the raging inferno. She reached out with magic, containing the blaze, pushing it backwards over ground that had already been burned and therefore depriving it of fuel. Time seemed to slow down as she focused on her task.

She opened her eyes. The fire was gone, the smoke was dissipating, and the full moon was starting to rise. Acres of blackened trees stretched before her. "Oh, god, I feel so dizzy," she thought, sinking to the ground. "I need to get back. They'll get worried."

The gold mare walked up to her, and nuzzled her gently.

"Hello again," she thought. "What are you?"

It neighed a little, but somehow Eliora understood it perfectly.

"A magical animal companion. That's a useful gift. I shall call you Orlice. Does that suit you?" she thought.

It nodded.

"Good. I ran across the name in the Book of Sol. It seems appropriate." She paused. "I think that only took half an hour," she realized with surprise. "But gods, I am so tired. I think I'll rest here for a few minutes. What do you think?"

The horse laid down next to her, and she leaned against her flank.

"We'll get going as soon as the moon rises fully. That should give me enough light to see." She looked down at the faintly glowing Armor. "On the other hand, I don't think I'll ever be without light again."

She awoke with a start sometime later. Someone was calling her name. Yawning, she tapped the horse.

It neighed and stood up.

"We really should get going," she thought, and mounted the animal. She glanced up at the sky. The moon had long since fully risen. "Oh dear. I think I fell asleep for a couple of hours," she thought. "I'm over here!" she called, and pulled down the hood and mask. Immediately she heard the sound of hoof beats, and decided to wait patiently.

She heard a loud, piercing whistle, and Davin rode into sight. "Are you alright?" he asked immediately, and pulled along beside her. She heard another piercing whistle in the distance. He motioned for her to start riding and follow him.

"A little tired, but I'm fine. You just alerted the others?"

"Yes. You stopped the wildfire, didn't you?

She nodded.

"Good. I thought that's what you ran off to do." He glanced at the gold mare. "I've never seen that horse before."

"I'm not surprised. This is another gift from the Light One."

"Interesting. Why didn't you tell us you could ride a horse? Bareback no less?"

"You didn't ask," she shrugged.

He laughed. "Well, that'll teach us."

She smiled. "You're not mad at me?"

"I'm not, no. I was worried when you first ran off, and Aidan's still really upset, but I figured you were coming out here to prove yourself to us. Given the extent of the damage I've seen looking for you, you've convinced me, for what that's worth to you."

"It's encouraging. Why's Aidan so upset?"

A dark look flashed across his face. "He feels he ought to protect you."

"Oh, I see. Well, I guess that's understandable. Is he mad at me?"

"I don't think so. Just very worried. He was afraid you were going to get hurt. I knew better though."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "You really thought I could go fight this fire, on my own, with no training?"

He looked a bit sheepish. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I was worried too, but I figured you at least thought you could handle it. That was enough for me."

"Really?"

"Sure. You're the Champion. You know your powers and abilities a lot better than we do, both divine and mundane," he said with a smile, gesturing at the horse.

"Thank you for your confidence. I appreciate that a lot."

"I'll warn you though, Hialmar is not so impressed. At least he wasn't when he sent out the search parties. When he hears about the damage, hopefully he'll change his mind." He looked her over again. "You look good in that Armor."

She blushed. "Thank you. Should I keep it on, or change into ordinary clothes?"

"No, keep it on. It may help your case when you talk to the Council tonight. It's not as though they can punish you, exactly, but you may get a severe scolding."

"It won't be the first time," she replied.

"Really? You don't strike me as the type to get into trouble."

"You just don't know me very well," she said with smile.

He returned the smile and was about to say something when Aidan galloped up to them.

"What in darkness did you think you were doing?" he snapped immediately. "And are you alright?"

She half-laughed. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Just a little tired and smudged."

"Oh, yes perfectly fine. You dash off to fight a raging firestorm with no help and no warning, and now you're laughing? Gods, you had me worried."

"I appreciate the fact you feel you need to protect me, but you can't protect me forever. I'm the Champion of the Light One. I'm the LightBearer. I need to know what I'm capable of, and you can't help me with that."

"Just don't do that again," he replied, slightly annoyed that she was so calm.

They rode in silence until they reached Tallis Marrom. Several other young men on horses were also riding in. People were filtering back to the city. Some saw her as she rode in, and looked at her with amazement and fear.

"Where do I find the Council?" she asked, unsure of what to think about their reactions. She didn't feel very different, although she did feel a bit more confident.

"They're waiting for you in the priest's cottage," answered Davin.

She hopped off Orlice. "Take care of my horse, please."

He nodded.

"Good luck," said Aidan. "You're going to need it."

She sighed and walked to the cottage.

Jomei opened the door for her. "You're looking well," he remarked, clearly surprised.

"How should I look?"

"Sick? Injured? How did you fight that fire?"

"That's something we'd all like to know," interjected Hialmar, in a stern voice. "I told you to go to your quarters, pack, and evacuate the area with everyone else."

"I know."

"Why did you disobey?"

"Because I knew I could stop the fire and save the city from destruction."

"How did you know this?" he snapped. "You've had no experience using these powers."

"With all due respect, how am I ever going to learn if you don't let me try?"

The Council members muttered amongst themselves.

"We were going to let you practice, in a controlled environment," he answered.

"When?"

"When we think you're ready," he replied harshly.

"I mean no disrespect to any of you. You have shown me kindness and patience in teaching me your language, your customs, and how to fight. However, you haven't given me an opportunity to demonstrate my abilities to you. I'm the LightBearer. I'm going to have to go face the world and the ShadowWalker sometime, and when I do, I'll probably be alone. I took a chance, I'll admit. I was sure I could stop that fire, even if I wasn't sure how. I wanted to show you that even though I'm still a stranger, I'm worthy to be the Chosen of the Light One."

Again, they muttered amongst themselves. With their low and hushed voices, she couldn't catch much of the conversation, but she did gather that Jomei seemed to be pleading with them.

"We need to talk. Go to your cottage. We'll meet with you in two days. After breakfast and before your language lessons," Hialmar said sternly.

She nodded, then turned and walked away, her bright cloak flowing behind her. To her surprise, Davin was waiting by her door.

"Convicted? Acquitted?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Delayed?" she replied, not sure if she had translated the words properly.

"Ah, a reprieve," he offered.

"Yes. They're going to talk, and I get to find out what they've decided in two days."

"Not tomorrow? They think they need a full day to talk?"

"Is that bad? They wouldn't throw me out, would they?" she asked, with a worried expression.

"Of course not. You're the LightBearer. There's really no mistaking that now," he remarked, looking her over. He couldn't help but notice that the Armor was well-fitted to her body. "Where did you get that armor?"

"A gift from god," she answered.

"Divine armor, a magical steed, all you need is a flaming sword."

"What for?"

"To match the picture of a warrior of Light."

"Is that what you think people picture when they hear the title LightBearer?"

"Something very like it," he answered. "Probably male, though."

"Well, I don't think I could be mistaken for male in this."

"Definitely not."

She blushed. "I'm tired, and I appreciate you asking about me. But I ought to go to bed."

"I expect so. You fought a raging firestorm. Let me know how it turns out," he replied, and walked off.

"I'm not sure what to think of all this," she mused, as she went into her cottage. "Maybe I'll know better after a good night's sleep." She sent the Armor away, changed her clothes, and went to bed. As soon as she laid down, she realized just how exhausted she was, and fell sound asleep within minutes.

"Donnan. Donnan, wake up," called Alain's voice the next morning.

He mumbled something incoherently and opened his eyes.

"You didn't go outside last night, did you? Why'd you sleep in your clothes?"

He sat up carefully to avoid hitting the ceiling.

"You did go outside. What'd you do that for?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," he answered vaguely, sliding off the bed.

"Here, I guess I'll make breakfast this mornin' while you get cleaned up."

This startled him awake. "Oh, no. You always cook the eggs too long. Give me a minute." He cleaned up and changed out of his badly wrinkled and still damp clothes, then made breakfast as usual.

"So, what were you doin' outside? It was awful last night. Gods, I could barely see anythin'. Damn streetlighters didn't do their job."

"Or they did, and the lights got blown out," he suggested mildly.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Spent half the night with some of the other guys huddled under overhangs tryin' to stay warm and dry. Useless effort, and probably careless, but we figured no criminal in his right mind would be out there either."

He didn't reply.

"Damn hard on my armor, too. I've dried it off, but I'm goin' to have to give it a good polish before I go out tonight. Weird weather though. If it weren't autumn, I'd have worried about twisters."

Donnan nearly dropped his fork.

Alain didn't seem to notice. "But wrong time of the year for that. Still, we needed the rain. And you still haven't told me what you were doin' out."

"Uh, curiosity?"

"Curious about what? It's a storm. You get wet."

"Never mind," he replied savagely.

Alain gave him a suspicious look, but let it go. They finished breakfast in silence, and Donnan did the dishes, feeling angry and a little scared. Alain went to bed without a word. When he was finished, he headed straight for the temple.

He found Dwyer's study easily this time, and was polite enough to knock.

"Come in," called the priest.

He stomped in angrily and slammed the door behind him. "What in darkness do you think you're doin'?" he demanded loudly.

Dwyer looked mildly surprised. "I beg your pardon?"

"That storm last night. It was a damn twister."

"Such storms are rare, but not unheard of this late in the year."

"Don't give me that! I know better. That was unnatural. That damn thing was called," he snapped.

The older man's face assumed a stony expression. "I'm not the one with the power over the weather."

He slammed his fist down on the desk. "Godsdammit, I didn't do this," he snarled. "I stopped it from destroyin' the city. I think you called it, to test me. You told me as much last week."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Then the priest seemed to back down. "Yes, I did indeed send a prayer that you would have a chance to prove yourself a worthy Champion. I did not, however, ask for a storm to destroy the city."

"So what? You're the priest. You know how your god could answer."

"I did. I even knew there was a twister coming. I was worried that you wouldn't be up to the challenge, but clearly you were."

The temperature in the room was dropping rapidly. It was now chilly enough that their breath was visible.

"And if I hadn't been? If people had died?" he hissed, furious.

"I would have to make my amends," he replied, sounding quite genuine.

This deflated some of Donnan's anger. "And how would you have done that?"

"Made donations to the city to rebuild. Attend services for the deceased. Perhaps anonymously donated to the individual families."

Now he was staring at the priest.

"I would judge by your expression that despite your friendship with Blake you do believe some of the untrue propaganda about the Order. We are not heartless, and we are not evil. Cold and calculating would be closer to the truth. When I prayed to my god, I was fully aware of the consequences, and I had plans to deal with those consequences."

"How do I know you're not lyin' to me?" he asked suspiciously.

"You don't."

He stared at the priest for a moment. "Why did you do that? Why's it so important that I use my power? What do you want from me?" he asked, confused.

The priest stood up and stared out the window, which was now frosted over. "There's much at stake here. I don't fully understand it myself, but it's very important that you win this fight. You have only until the next fall equinox, at the latest, to learn enough about your powers to fight the LightBearer. That's not much time, and you seem quite unwilling to even try."

"Yeah, well, you don't know what it's like," he muttered.

"No, I don't. But I have gathered you don't want to be the Avatar of Darkness. Why not?" he asked, turning to face him.

"Why not? Why not?" he sputtered. "Because I don't want to be Dark. I don't want to be some evil warlord who goes around killin' people. I don't want to have to fight my own brother some day. It's like your Order. No one really likes it, and no one trusts it. I don't want that."

Dwyer raised an eyebrow at this frank statement. "Well, I can see part of your point. But do you think being Dark means you become evil?"

"Well, that's what's said."

"But do you believe it?"

"I don't know. Blake seems about the same, but he'll only been in the Order for a year or so."

"Our Order has been around for some time now. Have we yet produced any marauding warlords or evil fighters for our god?"

"No."

Dwyer sat back down at his desk. "Sit down. You've recently channeled power from the god. Do you feel particularly evil?"

"No," he answered, taking the offered seat.

"Did you feel like causing wanton destruction when you were using your power?"

"No."

"Perhaps Darkness and Light aren't quite what you think they are."

"I guess not. But it doesn't mean it's good to be all Dark," Donnan replied.

"Indeed, it's quite bad in fact to become all Dark. But an exercise of power is not in and of itself good or evil, or even Light or Dark. You had the power to control that storm, and instead of using it to wreak havoc, you dispersed it. Wasn't that a good act?"

"Well, I guess," he answered, looking confused.

"I judge that you haven't spoken much with Blake about what he's supposed to be learning in his theology classes?"

He shook his head.

"Perhaps you should."

"I guess I could do that. I still don't understand what you want me to do."

"Be aware of your power. Be aware of what you can do with it. Figure out what you want to do with it. If you use power without being aware of its strength, and without a clear idea of what you want, that leads to dangerous situations. If you don't know what you want, you can't prepare for the consequences. What do you want, my Lord?"

"You've asked me that before. I don't know."

"That's really what I want you to figure out. The power is there for you to use as you see fit. We can help you, and have done so as far as we can."

"Yeah, and you're usin' me to run messages for you," he reminded the priest dryly.

"We have our reasons for that."

"And you won't tell me."

"Not yet, but..."

"What would you do?" Donnan interrupted.

"I beg your pardon?"

"If you had my power, what would you do with it?"

"Right now, or if I were in your circumstances?"

"If you were me," he clarified.

"I suggest you ask your friend Blake this question. I'm sure he could relate to your circumstances better," he replied thoughtfully.

"You just don't want to get yourself in trouble by answerin' honestly," he accused.

The priest gave a gracious nod. "You understand much about the Order."

He shot the priest a black look, then stood up. "Yeah, well, that's not comfortin'. Stop testin' me, you got that?" he snapped.

"Yes, my Lord."

"How come I get the feelin' you aren't done messin' with me?"

"Because you understand much about the Order."

Angry, he stormed out of the study and went to find Blake. The acolyte was in the middle of a class. Curious, he stopped to listen at the door, but the subject seemed to be economics. He knocked and waited.

A tall, thin woman of about forty opened the door angrily, but she recognized him and her expression changed to one of absolute politeness. "May I help you, my Lord?"

"I want to talk to Blake."

She looked as though she wanted to argue, but instead called him over. "Acolyte, you will return to your classes and duties as soon as the Dark Lord is finished. Understand?" she said severely.

"Yes, Instructor."

She shut the door behind him.

"Thanks. That was so boring."

"I wasn't doin' it to be nice. Come on." He lead Blake to the guest room he was now using on a semi-regular basis.

"What's wrong?" he asked, cleaning his glasses.

"That damn priest decided to test me and got a twister called down on the city."

Blake paused for a fraction of a second, then continued cleaning. "Well, clearly you stopped it."

"That's not the point," he snapped. "The point is I'm bein' messed with by the Order. Just like I knew would happen."

He replaced his glasses. "I'm glad no one got hurt."

"Me too, but damn, that was hard." He plopped down on the bed. "What would you do if you were me?"

"You really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked."

Blake leaned back thoughtfully and placed his fingertips together. "I think I already told you this. I would rule."

"Rule what?"

"Renfrew. All the city-states. I'd unite them under one ruler, and that'd be me."

"But why rule? And why not just Renfrew?"

"Why limit myself? You're a demi-god, Donnan. You could build an empire greater than the mages."

"Yeah, well, remember what happened to them," he replied, feeling alarmed at his friend's enthusiasm.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Most of them ruled for quite a while, and quite well."

"You don't know anythin' about rulin' an empire," he said flatly.

"Well, I just need to know who to ask."

"I still don't understand why you'd want so much."

He shrugged. "Because I could get it."

"Because you can? That's your answer?"

Blake nodded. "Is there a better reason?"

He gave his friend an angry look. "Maybe you should've been the Dark Avatar."

"If it's any comfort, I don't think at this stage I'd be doin' much different from you. Except I would have gotten revenge on Reese."

His sighed, and put his head in his hands. "You aren't afraid of usin' that much power from the Dark One?"

"Why should I be? Power is power. You use it or you don't."

"You don't understand. None of you lot understand. It's not that easy. You remember when I scared Reese?"

"How could I forget? I thought it was great."

"Great? Great?" he exclaimed, standing up. "That scared me. I could have killed him! Don't you get that? I could have killed him and right then I didn't give a damn if I did."

"I was wonderin' about that look you gave me," he replied mildly, although he was clearly nonplussed. "So you've just got to control your temper."

"I was controllin' my temper, but somethin' else was tryin' to control me!" he shouted.

"What-what are you talkin' about?" he asked.

"Godsdamnit, Blake, power isn't just power. This is different. I feel anger and fear and sorrow and all sorts of weird emotions swellin' inside me when I use it. It's not like just gettin' a little and then usin' it. It's always there. It's always inside me, pushin' to get out. Pushin' to be used." He slumped into a chair. Within his soul, he recognized a vague but real danger to using the god's power, but he couldn't even articulate that recognition in his own mind.

The acolyte cleaned his glasses again, looking horrified and thoughtful. When he finally replaced them, he said, "I'm sorry. I guess I don't know as much about divine power as I thought I did. This doesn't sound like anythin' I've heard from the clerics, though. Have you told Dwyer?"

"Gods, no. And I'm not goin' to."

There was an awkward pause.

Blake sighed. "Honestly, Donnan, I'm jealous. You've got all the power in the world. All the power to do anythin' you want. To change anything you want. You could make things better, you know. Ruling is the only way to get things done properly. Then people like Reese could be punished, no matter how rich or well-connected their parents were. And people born poor like you and me wouldn't be stuck doin' menial jobs all our lives or forced into thievery."

"You didn't have to be a thief," he reminded him, still angry and a little scared. "You chose that 'cause you thought it would be better than honest work."

"Yes, well, you don't have to work for the Order either," he retorted.

They glared at each other for a moment.

"You're right," Donnan sighed.

"You're right, too," Blake admitted.

"You really think I could do good with Dark power?"

"Darkness isn't evil. It's something else. If you're really that scared, then don't go overboard using your power. But I think if used carefully, yes, you could do good with it."

He thought about this for a moment. "Alright, you go back to classes, and I'll do something real hard thinkin'."

"That's what you've supposed to have been doing since this happened," Blake scolded gently.

"Yeah, well, I just got a real good idea of how powerful I am," he snapped.

"You know you're more powerful than a sorcerer."

"It's a big difference between bein' told and really understandin'."

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I'll go back to class now. When will you see me again about this?"

"Don't know. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe later."

"My advice to you is to stop thinkin' small. Don't worry about limits or rules. You're above that now. Or at least, if I were you, that's how I'd look at it," Blake offered as he left the room.

"That's not comfortin'," he thought, and left the temple for his fighting practice.

The next day passed for Eliora in a blur. She was so excited about having successfully fought the fire she didn't notice that people were giving her odd looks. She skipped the evening games to study language some more, in an effort to show the Council she was being responsible and not neglecting her studies.

The next morning she was nervous. After breakfast she was supposed to meet the Council. Jomei had not given her any hints the previous day during her language session, so she hoped they had decided favorably. She was taken to Hialmar's cottage by Jomei and found the other men already seated and waiting for her. She sat down in a chair facing the half ring of them.

"We've discussed your actions," Hialmar started, without ceremony. "You disobeyed a direct order, you recklessly endangered yourself, and you endangered the whole world."

Her face fell. "What do you mean?"

"You're the LightBearer. You're supposed to fight the ShadowWalker and defeat the Darkness. If you died, he would stand unopposed. Do you understand that?" he demanded harshly.

She nodded wordlessly.

"If you got into trouble out there, there was nothing we could do to help you. We aren't mages, and we aren't demi-gods. Even if the fire didn't hurt you, you could have been attacked."

"By whom?" she asked blankly.

"Servants of Darkness. You've already told us your Order located the ShadowWalker. How do you know that the Order of Darkness hasn't located you and was just waiting for an opportunity to strike?"

She shook her head. "I don't," she answered in a small voice.

"That's right. You don't," he snapped. "We're also a little concerned you didn't bother to tell us that you could ride a horse."

"You never asked, and I forgot."

"That's not an excuse. We need to know your abilities so we don't waste time teaching you what you already know."

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, now we know. Where did you get that animal?"

"It's a gift from the god."

"I see. The responsibility of keeping the horse is yours. Do you know how to properly take care of a horse?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now, about your punishment."

She looked up sharply.

"We can't punish you if you don't accept our judgment. You aren't a member of our community."

Tears started to sting her eyes, and Jomei looked at her apologetically.

"But since you live here, we hope you'll put yourself under the same laws everyone else must obey."

She nodded, blinking furiously.

"Good. I'm glad you understand. If you were a member of the community, we could revoke some of your privileges. We could forbid you to leave, or limit your activities. However, you haven't yet left the city, and we need you to continue learning to fight and study. So, we really can't hand down any punishment. Just know that you have earned our disappointment. If you want to be a worthy Champion, you should listen to the orders and advice of your superiors. Got that?"

She nodded. "What about Mulago?" she muttered.

"Mulago?" Hialmar repeated. "We're still making arrangements for the trip. Given your actions with the fire, we feel it best to delay the trip. You may go now."

Without a word, she stood up and left. She found herself at Jomei's cottage and waited for him to arrive.

"I'm sorry, Eliora. I tried to tell them that this wasn't the right way to go about things, but I was out-voted."

"Not part of the community?" she said hollowly.

He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"What do they want from me? I've tried to do everything they've asked. I'm learning the language. I'm learning to fight. I'm dressing just like everyone else. I'm doing all the things the only people my age do. I haven't run off, I haven't been pushing about getting a mage tutor. I've tried to make friends and fit in. Was I supposed to let the city burn?" she asked, her voice becoming choked with sobs.

"Well, it's been burnt before."

"But if they're so worried about the ShadowWalker coming to find me, why would they want the delay of having to rebuild their own city? I don't understand at all," she sniffled.

"I think you do. You just don't want to say it."

"They're prejudiced against me," she replied in a low voice. "I always try to see the best of people, and hope they can rise above those sorts of things. You know, judge people on actions and intentions, not appearances or customs."

"Well, your actions did seem to be a bit reckless. How did you know you could tame that fire?"

"I didn't, but I was sure I should try. You said you prayed to the Light One for some way for me to prove myself. Maybe that fire was the answer to your prayer."

Jomei looked startled. "I suppose it could have been," he stuttered. "That's not the kind of answer I wanted, though."

"I guess it didn't work."

"Not immediately, no. But you did show them that you do have significant power. No mage could have done that."

"I don't think that's a good thing to remind people," she replied, thinking of something Aidan said to her. "I gather mages aren't well liked around here. Aidan told me about an area north of Trevelan where the land got scorched during the Mage Wars."

"The Charred Land? Yes, there is that." After a pause, he said, "We should start your lessons and get your mind off of this, alright?"

She nodded, feeling that things were most certainly not all right, and they got to work. When lunch time came around, she started to notice some odd stares and fearful looks from the others. Thoroughly discouraged, she kept messing up in weapons practice, which lead to Aidan getting very upset at her.

"Dammit, you've got to pay attention," he snapped, bringing up the practice blade to her throat. "That's the third time you've fallen for that feint."

"I'm sorry," she sighed.

"Don't be sorry, be attentive."

She just couldn't concentrate on fighting.

"Dammit, Eliora," he swore about twenty minutes later. "If you're not going to pay attention, we shouldn't do this. I could accidentally hurt you."

"No, I'm sorry. I'll try harder."

"Don't try. Just do it. Honestly. Do you think just because you beat back one fire you don't have to pay attention to your fighting lessons?" he scolded.

"What? No, no, I'm sorry."

"Quit apologizing and pay attention!"

It was a very frustrating afternoon. When dinner time came, Aidan was still angry with her, and left her alone to eat. She thought about joining in the games, just to improve her mood, but she noticed many of the young men were giving her odd, fearful looks. After she ate, she walked toward the table anyway, and couldn't help but notice how many conversations seemed to stop. Some of the men excused themselves before she even reached the table. With a sigh, she changed direction and left the dining hall, feeling alone again. Instead of going to her cottage, she wandered around the city for about an hour until she found herself at the unused lookout tower. She climbed the rickety ladder and stared up at the stars.

"Eliora?" came Davin's voice.

She jumped slightly, having almost been asleep. "Yes?"

The branches creaked as he ascended the ladder.

She was dangling her feet but hanging onto the guard rail. "Why is everyone looking at me funny?"

He sat down beside her. "Well, everyone's heard what you did with the fire."

"So?"

"The demians seem quite pleased."

"The Council isn't."

"I didn't expect them to be," he replied.

"Why not? I saved the city from being burnt to the ground."

"Maybe. The fire could have changed direction. It happens."

"So you think I was reckless too?" she asked, her eyes brimming with tears. She leaned her head against her arms and stared into the trees.

"No. If I did, I would have told you when I found you."

"Do the others think I was reckless?"

"Well, Aidan's mad, but I think that's mostly because you haven't been paying attention in lessons these past two days. But I'm guessing you were anxious yesterday, and today you're dealing with the Council's disappointment."

She nodded. "But you didn't answer the question. I noticed they stopped talking when I walked up tonight."

He sighed. "They don't quite know what to make of it. They've gotten used to you, to a degree, as a sort of harmless, naive, nice young foreign woman."

"That's not so bad. I wish the word 'foreign' wasn't in there, though."

"Actually, 'woman' is almost as bad."

"Is it? I haven't studied northern culture very much. It really wasn't relevant to my duties." She shook her head. "No, no distractions right now. Why is everyone suddenly treating me different and looking at me funny?"

"Because you reminded them that you're the LightBearer?"

She stared at him blankly. "I don't understand."

"Most of the people here are prejudiced," he said bluntly. "The LightBearer is supposed to be a great warrior from these lands, a leader of men who'll gather an army of Light, and fight a war to defeat the ShadowWalker."

"But people didn't even know about Avatars until I got here," she reminded him.

"That didn't matter. People still had an idea of what the LightBearer was supposed to be. When you came, you were none of those things, so you were treated as any foreign woman would be treated, except someone's good sense prevailed over prejudice and you were taught to fight. You were relegated to the lowest status in this community, despite your status with the gods."

She nodded. "I begin to understand. My society has social ranks too."

"A woman obeys orders. A woman does not fight. A woman doesn't ride a horse bareback and gallop into danger. And a woman certainly doesn't defy prejudice to prove she's a worthy Champion of Light."

She sighed. "That's what Jomei hinted at. I've forced them to confront their prejudices, and no one seems to like it."

"You've also touched on an old, old fear in this part of the world."

She thought about this for a moment. "Mages."

He nodded. "Not even a sorcerer can control the elements. No sorcerer would have been powerful enough to contain that blaze. And somewhere they think, 'If she can stop the fire, she can start it too.' They're afraid the land will again be scorched and wasted."

"I wouldn't do that."

"Not even to kill the ShadowWalker?"

"I don't know," she answered in a small voice. They were silent for a few moments. "What am I supposed to do? I've done everything I've been told to do to the best of my abilities. I thought I was doing what everyone wanted." Her eyes filled with tears again. "But when I met them this morning, they told me I wasn't part of the community," she explained, her voice choking up.

"I'm sorry, Eliora, but you can't say this wasn't unexpected."

"I guess I'm just, oh, what's the word, when you always hope for the best?"

"Optimistic," he supplied wryly.

"Yes. I guess I'm just stupidly optimistic."

"Not stupid. You're a stranger in a foreign land. If you weren't optimistic, you'd probably have gone crazy from despair."

"I shouldn't have defied Hialmar," she said.

"Why not? You probably did save the city."

"He's the leader, the elder, and I'm supposed to listen to my elders."

"Even if they're wrong?"

"Yes. They're the ones who suffer most for poor decisions."

He gave her odd look. "You mean you think it would have been better to listen to Hialmar, let the city burn, and have him take the blame?"

"That's how it works, right?"

"If you hadn't fought that fire, no one would have known you could. If you later told him you could stop it, and proved it, he'd probably be angry that you didn't."

"That's not fair. I got in trouble because I disobeyed, and you're telling me I'd get in trouble if I obeyed, too?" she protested.

"How would your elders, as you call them, have handled this situation?"

"Well, first of all, they would make sure they knew exactly what my abilities were beforehand. Then, if they made the wrong decision, the community would probably have them forced out of their leadership position. That's how it works. The elders speak for the community. The community tries to pick good elders, but once elected those elders have to be responsible for the community. That means knowing everything that goes on in the community and that could affect the community. If they make a bad decision based on unreasonable ignorance then that's considered a breach of their duty as elder. Too many breaches and they lose their position."

"And who decides what's unreasonable?"

"Other elders. Sometimes the community gets a direct voice if the bad decision has lead to disaster."

He thought this over. "I guess based on your government and your experience with the Council, it seems to work like your elders. But it really doesn't. The people here don't really choose the Council. They sort of choose themselves, usually based on who's the best warrior."

"But why do the people follow them?" she asked.

"Because most of the men here are warriors. Naturally they expect the best warriors to be the best leaders. Sort of like the military, I guess, but on a smaller scale. Your military does have different ranks of authority, right?"

She nodded. "It makes sense that warriors would chose that kind of organization. But does that mean anyone who's not a warrior can't be on the Council?"

"Yes. Jomei was allowed, reluctantly, as I understand it, because it's just a good thing to have a priest involved in the community. But I wouldn't be surprised if he has lower status within the Council because he's not a warrior."

She thought about this for a while. "If I become a warrior, will they listen to me?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it. You're still foreign and you're still a woman."

"I guess I'll just have to try harder to fit in," she sighed.

"Why bother?"

"What?"

"Why bother?" he asked, his expression dark. "I don't think most of them will ever fully accept you anyway. Why allow yourself to remain subject to their prejudices and stay relegated to a low status?"

She looked at him sharply. He was clearly angry, and she didn't think it was directed at her. "What, you're encouraging me to rebel?"

"I'm encouraging you to be yourself, even if that means defying the Council and everyone else."

She turned back to the stars. "You don't understand. Rebelling is as foreign to my nature as fighting. My society is centered around the community and the family. Since I have no family here, my life has centered exclusively around community. If I continue to defy the Council, I'll probably lose what little acceptance I've gained."

"What acceptance?" he demanded harshly.

Stung, she turned to face him. "What?" she stuttered.

"You just said they told you they didn't consider you part of the community. They aren't going to accept you. They're just going to make sure you obey their orders and do exactly what they want. Why bother to do what they want when you won't get anything but contempt? Honestly, if you're going to let them push you back down, then you deserve what you get." He abruptly stood up and descended the tree.

For a moment she could not speak. Then despair, anger, and resentment swelled up inside her, and she burst into tears. She was still crying when the wind picked up from the east and brought in thick clouds. She was reduced to sniffles when the sky opened and it started to pour rain. She was chilly and thoroughly soaked when she got out of the lookout tower and returned to her cottage.

With only a thought, the fireplace and lamps sprang to life. She changed out of her clothes, let down her hair, and pulled on dry clothes. Feeling despondent, she watched the fire as it popped and danced. She thought of her family and friends, and about her place in the community.

Donnan was very nervous the day of his date with Aolani. Clancy scolded him thoroughly for not paying attention, and he left fighting practice in a bad temper and a painful bruise on his arm. He dressed in his nicest clothes and went to the library.

If Aolani noticed, she showed no sign of it and got right to tutoring.

"Well, that's the hour," she said brightly.

"Where would you like to go?"

"There's a nice little coffee shop not too far away," she replied, gathering up her books. "But I can't stay more than an hour."

"Dinner plans?"

"Well, yes," she answered, as looked at him as though gaging his reaction.

He tried not to show disappointment or jealousy. "Fine by me. I've got to get home anyway to make dinner."

"Yes, that's right."

They walked in silence to the coffee shop. Aolani ordered for them both, and they sat down at a small table near one of the windows.

"If it's not too rude of me to ask," she started, "where are you getting the money to pay for this tutoring? I'm hardly the most expensive out there, but three times a week can get a little costly."

"I got a new job," he answered simply.

"Oh, that's good. What are you doing?"

"Well, I guess this is as good a time to tell her. Find out what she thinks," he thought. "I'm doin' some messenger work. For the Temple of Night."

She looked a bit taken aback. "Well, that's nice. I guess."

"Come on, be honest," he sighed.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"I don't like the Order of Darkness. But then again, I knew very few people who do. I understand it has a place in society, and I know that it will help people out when they get in trouble. But that service comes with a price, and I think sometimes the price may be too high."

"What price? Someone's soul?" he asked bitterly.

"No. Not usually. I just don't think those are the sorts of people it's good to owe favors to. But again, I do know they will help people out when no one else will. I don't think that's a failing on the part of the Order, or of the people who go to them." She lowered her voice. "I think it's a failing on the part of the Order of Light."

He looked at her, clearly surprised. "You really think so?"

She nodded. "The Order of Darkness tends to find people who are in bad situations. People who are a little desperate, who feel they have no place else to go. That, to me, is what the Order of Light should provide. They should be the ones caring for those who are vulnerable, instead of allowing the Order of Darkness to prey upon them."

"I guess you're right," he replied. "I didn't think about it like that."

"I wish the Order of Light would think about it like that. But I'm afraid that at least here the church has gotten too mixed up with politics and status."

"I, uh, don't know a lot about politics. Or the church, really."

She gave him a reassuring smile. "That's alright. Since my father is the mayor, I know all about politics whether I like it or not. And also about the church, since I attend regularly."

"Oh. I don't go to church much at all."

"A lot of people don't, sadly. Most of the people I see there are other politicians or wealthy merchants trying to make a good impression. You did go to the summer solstice ceremony."

"Yeah. But I kind of had to. My boss gave us the day off to go. If we didn't go, we would've got in trouble," he replied.

"I see. I'm glad that you were at least given the day off to go to the ceremony."

There was an awkward pause.

"So, Aolani, how's your little brother doin'? In the guard, I mean."

"Kennet's doing fine. He wanted patrol duty, but Father pulled a few strings, and he's on guard duty in downtown. He's not very happy with Father right now. I think he was hoping Father would use his influence to get him patrol duty," she answered with a laugh.

"Doesn't it bother her that her father does stuff like that?" he thought, but tried to hide his bitterness. "So patrol duty is good?"

"For a new guard, yes, very good. Many of them get useless assignments, like guarding the library, or the court house, or town hall. Assignments where they won't learn anything, but aren't likely to need to know anything either."

"Then how do they get patrol duty?"

"Old guards retire, or decide they'd prefer different assignments. It's quite rare for a new guard to get an assignment of any real danger or importance. They have to really impress their instructors. Or so Kennet's told us, at length," she said with a wry smile.

"Well, at least the guard isn't totally corrupt. But I'd bet Kennet could've gotten patrol duty if his father had asked," he thought.

"How's your brother?" she asked.

"He got night patrol duty."

"Really? He must have done very well during basic training to get that kind of assignment."

"Yeah, he told me it was really good, but it doesn't seem like it should be, you know?"

She gave a small laugh. "Yes, I know what you mean. I can't imagine how walking around the streets when it's dark and cold, looking for criminal activity, is considered a good thing. It's certainly dangerous, but dangerous assignments seem to be a mark of status within the guard even when some have moved off of patrol duty and to investigations."

"I didn't know that."

"I take it you haven't talked to your brother much since this assignment."

"Well, no. He sleeps most of the day. I cook him dinner, then he goes out, or I go out, and I don't see him until breakfast the next mornin'."

"I understand night patrol can be hard on the families of the guards," she replied sympathetically.

"I'm not too worried. Alain can take care of himself." He paused, then said, "Can I ask you a question? It might be kind of offensive, though."

She blinked, looking puzzled. "Alright."

"Well, do you think it's fair that your father could get your brother any guard job he wanted?" he blurted, as though asking quickly would reduce the question's offensiveness.

She looked upset. "No, I don't think it's fair," she answered quietly. "I know I've benefited a great deal from my father's position, and no doubt I'll continue to benefit even after he retires, or isn't re-elected. I still don't think it's right that I do get those benefits just because of who my parents happen to be."

"Do you ever think about changin' the system?" he asked hesitantly.

"Sure. I think about it all the time, but how am I supposed to change anything? My Father has power. I don't."

"I'll bet you know lots about politics. You could maybe run for mayor someday."

She laughed sardonically. "Goodness, you really don't know much about the political world."

He flushed, embarrassed.

"It's not a bad thing, really. But I couldn't go into politics. Not effectively."

"Why not?"

"To be successful in politics, a person has to have three things: wealth, connections, and a lot of knowledge about economics and the political system."

"Don't you have all that?"

"I do have the connections, but I don't have a lot of money. My father does, but I really don't. I know about the political system, but not enough about economics or how they work together."

"Well, you could get money and knowledge, right?"

"Not on a teacher's salary."

"You could invest in a trade," he suggested.

"I suppose I could. But it doesn't matter, since no one would take me seriously anyway."

"Why not?"

"I'm a woman."

"Yeah, I noticed," he replied with a smile, "but so what?"

"Women's opinions just aren't given as much weight as a man's here. That annoys me to no end, I might add."

"I, uh, haven't noticed that. Nobody I know has got enough power for that to make any difference."

"I guess I can see that." She sighed. "I don't think it's fair, but I don't think I can change things. The odds are against me, and I really just don't want that kind of turmoil in my life."

"Would you change things, if you could?" he asked, trying not to sound too earnest.

"I guess so. I've tried a little. I've talked to my father, but he's not really interested. He thinks the system works great. But he's the mayor, after all."

"How would you change things?"

She gave him a odd look. "Is this really that interesting to you?"

"Well, sure. See, I've never thought things were fair. It's kind of nice to talk to someone who agrees, especially 'cause you've benefited from things bein' unfair," he answered, a bit flustered.

"Oh, I understand. I guess people born in poorer circumstances must think badly of us born in better circumstances."

"Sort of. I mean, you can't help how you were born anymore than we can. But it's just so frustratin' to not get hired for a good job, or not get into the guard, or not get into the church, just because we were born poor. I guess it depends on attitude. I don't like rich people who think they deserve so much more than me just 'cause of how they were born. But you don't seem like that."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"So, how would you change things?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. It would be difficult. The politicians and merchants benefit from the way things are, so they have no reason to change the system. As I see it, there are two ways to go about it. One is to make friends, influence the right people, spread around a little money when necessary, and become part of the system. Then try to change it from the inside by becoming an advisor to the mayor or part of the leadership of the trade organizations. But that would take years, and probably be very frustrating."

"Years?" he repeated, feeling dismayed. "I don't think I've got that much time," he thought.

"The other way would be much quicker, but no easier. Basically the other way to change things is scrap the entire system and start over from scratch."

He looked at her sharply, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Not that anyone would go along with that," she finished with a slight laugh.

"What do you think about unitin' the city-states?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh, that idea has been making the rounds for decades. But since Renfrew is the most powerful, there's no reason for my father to try to change that. Besides, it's hard to just run this city. To run all twenty-seven city-states would be nearly impossible. The governing body would have to integrate all the different trades and the different guards, then try to maintain control of them." She shook her head. "No, that would only work if the current system was removed, and if a group or person had enough influence in all the city-states to unite them under a new government."

"Do you think that could ever happen?"

"Not right now, no. The trades squabble too much between city-states, as do the politicians. I think such a unification would almost require an outside force. And that's conquest, and I don't think anyone really wants that," she explained.

"Is it conquest if a group just gets all the merchants and politicians to agree to unify?"

"Yes, and no. I guess if a group could give everyone involved enough positive incentive, it wouldn't be conquest. But politicians are a stubborn lot. If it ever came to force or negative incentive, that'd be conquest."

"Negative incentive?"

"A nicer term for blackmail," she clarified.

"Oh, I see."

"I had no idea you were so interested in politics," she commented.

"Well, why not? It's somethin' new and different. I think it's interestin'. Maybe I'll even go into politics someday."

She laughed slightly. "I wish you luck with that, if it's really what you want to do. If it's not, it'll drive you crazy. Trust me on that."

He smiled nervously.

She glanced out the window. "Oh, goodness," she exclaimed suddenly, standing up. "I've stayed too long. I'm sorry, but I need to go. I have another engagement this evening, and I'm afraid I'm going to be late."

"Oh. Alright. I guess."

"You keep your average above ninety-five percent for four more quizzes, and we can do this again. Is that a deal?"

"Deal," he replied.

"Great." Then she dashed out.

He paid the bill and wandered out into the street. "I wonder where's she going. I'll bet to spend the evening with someone of the upper class," he thought bitterly. "She seems really nice, and seems to know that things here aren't fair, but she's always benefited. I wonder if she even knows how much being born well has benefited her. I'll bet I'm the poorest person she sees on a regular basis." He sighed. "Maybe I'm being too hard on her. I don't know what she does or who she sees." A thought slowly dawned him. "I guess I could follow her, just to see if she what she does. But that's wrong." The thought wouldn't go away. "So it's not a nice thing to do. Alain'll just have to get his own dinner tonight." With that, he turned down the street in search of Aolani.

Being autumn, it was already starting to get dark and clouds were gathering in the sky. Feeling embarrassed, he slipped into an alleyway then stepped into the shadows.

"Can you find someone for me?" he called to the darkness.

"Yes, Master," answered a darkling, from behind him.

He jumped. "Right. I just want you to find this woman for me. Don't do anythin' or be seen or nothin'. Just find her and lead her to me."

"Describe her."

"Um, alright. She's beautiful. A little shorter than me, with long, curly, strawberry blond hair and light brown eyes. She was wearin' a light blue dress and carryin' a leather bag. Her hair was down," he said wistfully.

"That is enough. We can find her now."

This made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Wait."

He stood there for what seemed like about five minutes, and was starting to think following her was a very bad idea, when the darkling returned.

"Follow."

He did so, and was brought out in an alleyway in the nicer section of town. The sun had started to set, and the cloud cover was now thick, so it was quite dark.

"She is in that building," it said, pointing to a well-lit tavern.

"Thanks. You can go now."

It bowed and melted into the shadows.

Aolani was sitting with five other people her age near the window, which meant Donnan could get a fairly good view of what was going on from the alleyway. She was laughing and talking, and holding the hand of one young man. Every person she was with was well-dressed and clearly from the upper class. The tavern itself seemed to cater to the young and wealthy. He watched for nearly an hour as they ate their meals, ordered drinks, and generally enjoyed themselves. When it started to rain, he decided he should head home. He stepped into the shadows and returned to the apartment.

Alain had already left.

"Probably went out to eat," he thought. "She may believe in equality and all that, but all her friends are rich people. I guess I should have known. Those are the types of people she'd know. She tutors me, but she's friends with the well-off and well-educated. I bet if she wasn't tutoring me, she'd forget she ever met me. I'm not the person she'd make friends with on her own, much less get romantically involved with." He put those bitter thoughts aside and took up reading, until he felt tired and went to bed. His dreams were dark and disturbed.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" asked Jomei.

She shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I needed to do some thinking."

He paused, but she seemed disinclined to explain further. "Well, let's get started with your language studies."

"Tell me about Davin," she said suddenly.

"Davin?" It took him a moment to put a face to the name. "Oh, yes. Him."

She raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound good."

"Well, honestly no one here knows too much about him except that he comes from the Charred Land. He came here few months ago, angry and worse for wear. He was taken in, of course, but he's clearly not here to be a fighter. That's made him something of an outcast. I've tried talking with him, but all I could get was that his family had recently died, and he had nowhere else to go. He tends to keep to himself, and isn't really friends with the young men because he doesn't want to be a warrior."

"Maybe he just doesn't know how to fight," she offered.

"No. He knows how to fight, and quite well. I have kept an eye on him, as I keep an eye on everyone here. He often goes off by himself to practice. He did get into a bit of a fight before you showed up, and unfortunately won."

"Unfortunately?"

"Yes. The men thought he didn't fight because he couldn't, which is forgivable to them. Finding out that he can fight but doesn't is an unforgivable attitude. After all, the younger men are here to fight. It doesn't help that he's not entirely subtle about the disdain he has for this warrior mentality."

She thought this over for a moment. "Yes, I think that fits."

"Why do you ask?"

"We've talked a few times."

"Oh. Well, can I give you a bit of advice?"

"Sure."

"Of the men to make friends with, he's probably not your best choice. He is a strange young man, with strange ways, and those strange violet eyes."

It hadn't occurred to Eliora until that moment that Davin's eye color might be odd. In her home country, nearly everyone had brown eyes so any other color at all was highly unusual.

The priest continued, "He has a certain Darkness in his soul, and keeps a lot hidden inside. I think Aidan's a much better choice."

She picked up on some innuendo in his statement, but decided to respond at face value. "Because Davin is char-kin?"

"Where did you hear that word?"

"Aidan referred to Davin as char-kin. It didn't sound very nice."

"It isn't nice. It is a derogatory term used for someone from the Charred Lands. It implies the person is some sort of scoundrel, usually a thief or a liar. But that's not why I think you should be careful. The young man is very dark and secretive."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

"Shall we move on to language lessons?"

"Will the Council or the community ever accept me?"

He sighed. "Honestly, I don't think so. Everything about you is so foreign to the people here, and no one understands why the gods have decided to appoint Avatars, so basically I'm afraid you're never going to be part of the community."

"Even if I become a warrior?"

"That will earn you more respect from the people here, especially the Council and the young men, but it will serve to set you farther apart because women don't become warriors."

"And if I try to do everything the Council expects of me, what will that get me? Respect? Acceptance? Will they start listening to my opinions or what I want? Will I even be included in their decision making?" she asked earnestly.

He sighed again. "Quite honestly, I don't know. Certainly they would be pleased that you're behaving as they expect. But I don't think that would get you respect or acceptance. I also don't think you'll be involved in decision making. Once the StormBringer makes his move, I expect the Council will be busy working out a plan, and then will tell you what they need you to do."

She nodded. "Yes, that's what I thought." She looked up at him, with fire in her eyes. "This absolutely won't do. I can't force them to accept me, but I refuse to be held in contempt. They will learn respect."

"What?" he blurted, taken aback by the look in her eyes. "What're you going to do about it?"

"Take over, of course."

"You can't be serious."

She looked at him sharply. "You doubt me?" she countered, a rumble in her voice. The lamps and fireplace briefly flared blue and hot.

"N-no," he stammered, catching a glimpse of the power she concealed within her.

Then she smiled and the moment passed. "Good. I really don't like resorting to bluffing, but it's really the only choice."

"You mean you don't really want to take over?" he asked, confused.

"No. I don't know nearly enough to be an effective leader. But if I can make the Council think I want to lead, perhaps they'll start to give me more respect. I'm sure I can prove I'm effective warrior. Hopefully that will cure them of their prejudices. At least for a little while."

"But the young men say you're no good at gambling games."

"That's because I have no luck. There's no point in bluffing if all you're holding is a pair of threes. I think my hand is considerably stronger in this," she replied.

He half-laughed, still uncertain about this sudden determination and bold attitude. "It won't be easy to bluff these men."

"Well, that's why you're going to help me. We both know that in the end, whenever that may be, I will have to face the ShadowWalker, and I'll have to do it alone. I don't want to be uninformed and untrained when that happens. I really don't think the Council wants that either."

"You do have a point there," he sighed. "What can I do to help?"

She smiled. "Thank you. I need you to get me books on the culture and history of this area of the world. I think I'm fluent enough in your language to actually read and understand them now. And I want to know what the Council is doing."

"I can get you the books, but I've been entrusted to the Council's confidence. I can't betray that."

"Then I'll need some other way to find out what they're doing. I don't want to be left out. I need information. I need the news from the rest of this area of the world. And despite what they may think, I've always been told I have an excellent grasp of politics and strategy. Now I suppose that will be put to the test. If this bluff works, I'd better have some idea of what I'm talking about."

"I'll tell you what they're doing," he sighed. "I don't need you to get into trouble trying to spy on them."

"Thank you. I know you're risking your own status by helping me like this."

"Well, my allegiance is really to a higher power. Since you are the direct servant of that power, my allegiance should be to you over them. Not that the Council would like to hear that."

"They're probably afraid they'll lose their power as I gain mine," she remarked thoughtfully. "And perhaps they will. But that's something they must deal with. I'm not going to let their fears and prejudices hold me back anymore. They must learn to respect me, even if they don't like me. I am the LightBearer, and that's certainly no bluff."

"You surprise me, Eliora. I knew that the Light One would pick a good Avatar, and I'm glad you've decided to not let the Council dictate your actions. I warn you, though, they won't like this."

"I know, but this is bigger than what they like or dislike. I'm glad you've decided to help me. Now I can get all the news and information I need, and they won't know what I'm doing until I'm ready to tell them."

"Bluffs do work better when they're unexpected," he agreed. "Well, then, let's get started."

When lunch came, she ignored the odd looks she was still receiving, and proceeded to her fighting lesson.

"Are you going to pay attention today?" Aidan asked, looking annoyed.

"Can I hit you?"

"What?"

"Can I hit you? With my full strength?" she clarified patiently, but that fire was still in her eyes.

"You mean you've been pulling your punches all this time?"

She nodded. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well, damn. Yes, Eliora. Hit me. Hit me as hard as you want."

"Alright." They started to walk to the practice area. The ground was soggy and slippery from the rain.

"Actually, give me one minute," he said suddenly, and went to the gym. When he returned, he wearing considerably more armor than before.

She was highly amused, and encouraged that at least he seemed to be taking her seriously.

The fighting session was more grueling than previous ones. She was trying harder, hitting harder, and Aidan was hitting harder in retaliation. Her strength was quite an advantage because she could change the direction of her strike easier than he could, allowing her to react faster. But he had skill on his side, and so worked to compensate. Darkness fell, the lamps in the city above were lit bathing the area in a soft glow, and they continued the session until it was half way through dinner.

"Alright, that's enough," Aidan called, panting heavily. "Gods, I'm thirsty."

She didn't reply, she merely followed him to the gym to put the weapons and armor away.

They entered the dining hall. "You were really trying to fight," he commented, sounding puzzled yet pleased. "I mean, you were really hitting me. Even through the armor I think I got bruised."

"He's not the only one," she thought ruefully, but she wasn't about to say anything out loud. They got their food and she took a seat at a suddenly empty table. She sighed inwardly. To her surprise, Aidan sat across from her.

"What happened? Why are you suddenly working so hard? And why weren't you working so hard before?" he asked, his voice slightly scolding.

"I've made up my mind to become a warrior now."

After a few moments it became clear she wasn't going to expound on her brief statement. "Well, alright," he replied, confused. "I'm going to have to talk to Hialmar about this."

"Why?" she asked, trying to hide her alarm.

"If you're serious about learning to become a warrior, I've got to make sure you don't get too used to my style. I'm going to have to find more sparring partners for you."

"I can understand that."

"I hope you're prepared to stay so focused. This isn't going to be easy."

"I didn't expect it to be easy."

They finished their meal in silence.

"You want to beat me at chess again?" he asked.

She glanced over at the others. Most deliberately avoided eye contact, and some excused themselves. "No, thank you," she sighed. "It's been a long day. I think I'll just relax tonight."

He looked troubled, but didn't argue. "Alright then. But remember, some play is good for you. And the guys tell me that losing is good for me. Keeps me humble, they say."

She smiled, the politely excused herself. She returned to her cottage, lit the fires, and drew a hot bath. After soaking for a long time, she sat down to study.

Some time later, she was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "That would be Davin," she thought, and opened the door only a crack.

"Eliora, can I come in?" he asked.

Although she could tell he was angry, she gestured to the living room.

He entered but didn't sit down. Instead he stood with his arms crossed, looking at the fire.

She took a seat on the couch.

"Aidan's been telling us that you've decided you want to be a warrior," he started, disdain evident in his voice. "He seems quite pleased. Most of the other young men are sure you're going to give up."

"Aidan's been going easy on me this past month?" she asked, a little annoyed but not surprised.

"So it seems." He turned and looked at her sharply. "Why do you want to be a warrior?" he demanded.

"I don't."

"You don't? Doesn't sound like it."

"I do what I must, even if I don't really want to," she replied with a sigh.

"So you think you must become a warrior?"

"Yes."

"For them?"

"No." Her voice was still gentle, but her eyes were flashing with fire. "When the time comes, I must fight the ShadowWalker, and I'll have to do it alone."

"As though the Council trusts you that much," he snorted.

"It's not their decision," she shrugged. "I have been Chosen, whether they like it or not."

"So you're not trying to fit in anymore?"

"No."

"So you've decided to be a warrior all on your own, with no influence from the Council?"

"No. My meeting with them did influence my decision," she answered.

"I should have expected that you'd listen to them. You don't really know any of us, but they're the elders, after all," he replied derisively.

He managed to touch a nerve, and her temper flared. She abruptly stood up and opened the door. "I don't need your approval, and I didn't ask for it. Had I known you were going to behave like this, I wouldn't have let you in. Now get out."

"What did you expect?" he demanded.

"An apology."

"I'm not going to apologize for telling you what I think," he snapped, standing in the doorway.

"I wouldn't ask you to apologize for that. You spoke your mind. You were honest. I appreciate that." She then gave him a hard shove out the door. He lost his balance and fell on his rear. "But you didn't have to be such a..." Here she switched to her own language as the insult didn't translate, "camel's rear end about it!" She slammed the door behind her, and leaned against it, taking calming breaths. "I shouldn't have reacted so violently," she thought, ashamed of herself.

After a few moments she heard Davin say in a raised voice, "Alright, I guess I deserved that."

She smiled with relief. "Goodnight," she called back.

He muttered, "Well, goodnight," and walked off.

She returned to her studies until midnight. When she went to bed she wasn't sure how she felt about anything that had happened in the city that day, but she was glad that at least the priest was on her side.

Alain came home the next morning looking wet and tired. "Damn rain," he grumbled, as he changed out of his armor.

Donnan was occupied in his own thoughts as he cooked breakfast.

"Hey, little brother, I think you're burnin' the eggs," he called from the bedroom.

"Oh, damn," he swore, snapping back to the present. He quickly got the eggs off the fire. "At least it's not snowin'," he returned.

"Not yet." The older man sat down at the table and started to wolf down his food.

In contrast, the younger man barely ate anything. "Alain."

"Yeah?"

"What's Reese been up to? Has he gotten into more trouble?"

He sighed. "Well, I don't see him much, thank the gods, but from what the guys tell me, he was in trouble 'bout a month ago for fightin'. He seems to have stopped that. He's been all sullen for weeks. You know. Grumpy. Barkin' and snappin' at everyone, but not fightin'." He lowered his voice. "Rumor has it that he has a bit of a problem with his drinkin'."

"Figures."

"Yeah. So that's all I know. I don't think he's straightened up, exactly, just bein' more careful. Still not a nice guy, and I'm damn glad I never have to deal with him."

"But he wasn't punished? And if he's really got a drinkin' problem, shouldn't he be on, what's it, probation or somethin'?"

"Oh, come on, Donnan. We both know better than that. He's the son of the Commander. There's no way he'd ever get any sort of black mark on his record, no matter how much the bastard deserves it."

"And I suppose those guys he's always got at his back aren't goin' to say anythin'?"

"Why should they? They got a good thing goin'."

"And none of the guards will say anythin'?" he pressed.

"It won't do any good. First of all, we guards aren't supposed to go tattlin' on other guards. Second of all, if it worked, that guard would have sort of an unofficial black mark on his record. He could forget any chance of promotion. He'd be best off to just finish his service and not re-enlist."

"So there's no justice," Donnan replied grimly.

"We do the best we can. Most of the guards are good guys. Real good guys. Trust 'em with my life, I would. But you know how it is. Some of them are spoiled. Some are just doin' the one year so they look good when they get 'real jobs,' as they call 'em. Guards are just people. And some people aren't very good," he sighed.

"Alain, if you could change things, would you?" he asked cautiously.

"Change in what way? I'm already a guard."

"Well, I've got a chance to change things in kind of a big way, but I'm not sure if I should do it."

The older man frowned. "This isn't illegal, is it?"

"No."

"This isn't somethin' through the Order of Darkness, is it?"

"Sort of."

"Little brother, you know I don't like you workin' for them. No good can come of it, you mark my words."

"I just told you, maybe I can change things. Really change things. So good people like you don't have to put up with people like Reese," he replied, angry but not surprised at his brother's reaction.

"If you've got to work through the Order, it's best left alone. They aren't supposed to change anythin' anyway. We've got politicians and the Order of Light to fix things. You've got to go up the chain of command."

"But you just said that doesn't work. That's why Reese is still a guard," he snapped.

"Look, I understand you're still angry. I'm still angry too. But the reports are out there. He'll mess things up again. He keeps messin' things up, and he'll be kicked out, even if his father's the commander."

"Godsdammit, Alain, he could kill someone before then! Don't you understand that? Do you want that to happen? What in darkness is wrong with you?"

The older man looked confused more than angry. Then he sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I could do somethin' to help the system along. I should just do it."

"Like what? Tattle to his father?" he retorted harshly.

"No. We got ways of dealin' with our own. And I'll do what I can."

"But it probably won't work. You'll probably get into trouble."

"This is how it is," Alain shrugged.

"But it's not fair," he protested. "How can you just take this?"

"I'm a guard. I work for the law. I've got to work within the law."

"The law is corrupt," he replied bitterly.

"Mostly it works. It really does."

Donnan's ice-blue eyes met Alain's darker blue eyes. "And would you be defendin' the law if Reese had killed me that night?" he hissed.

The older man reacted as though he had been slapped. His face went red and he stood up from the table in a hurry. "That's a low blow, little brother."

"Be honest," he snapped. "We both know what would have happened. Nothin'. Not one godsdamn thing. Even with Blake as a witness. And if you believed Blake over the word of the guard, then you would've beaten Reese to a bloody pulp and you'd be in jail. And I'd be dead. You lose, I lose, and the worst Reese would get is kicked out of the guard. And that'd be the end of it."

He swallowed hard. "It's the best we've got," he replied weakly.

"It doesn't have to be. There are ways to make things better, and make things better soon."

"No. You do it legit. You do it right. Or you don't do it. You got that?" he demanded angrily.

Donnan stood up and slammed his fist against the table. "Dammit, it's not that simple!"

"Yes it is," Alain growled. "You can't fight wrong by doin' wrong. You only make things worse by addin' to the wrong. You fight wrong by doin' right. That's just how it is."

"Well, it's not workin', is it?"

Both brothers were now shouting.

"Dammit, our parents taught us better!"

"You don't understand..." Donnan protested, stung.

"Yes I do. I damn well do. Those damn priests have almost got you talked into doin' somethin' wrong, and you want me to you let you do it. I'm not goin' to."

"You can't stop me."

"No, I can't. I know that. But you know what's right, and I'm not goin' to let you forget it. I'm warnin' you now, if I catch you doin' somethin' illegal, I'm goin' to bring you in."

"You what?" he snapped.

"I'm a guard. I've got to obey the laws. The laws don't care that you're my brother. But gods help you, Donnan, 'cause the misery you'll get in lock-up is nothin' compared to what you're goin' to get when you get out."

"You're not Father," he hissed.

"No, but it's my job to keep you out of trouble."

"I don't need you to take care of me."

"No? Sounds to me like you're about to get yourself in a heap of trouble. I'm makin' sure you know just how much you're riskin'."

Angrily and wordlessly, Donnan turned and marched toward the door.

"You stay away from them damn priests," Alain called. "They're up to no good, and I don't want you gettin' caught up that. Don't let them talk into doin' wrong. You aren't one of them."

He shook his head as he shut the door behind him. "Gods, Alain, you have no idea," he thought, his anger suddenly turned to sorrow. "Now I know I can't tell him what happened. He'd never accept it."

Without really thinking about where he was going, he found himself in front of Dwyer's study door. He debated with himself about his course of action for a few moments, then made up his mind. "If I'm damned, I might as well go all out," he thought, and knocked.

"Come in," called the priest. "I was hoping you'd be by today."

"We need to talk," he replied.

"Sit down."

"My brother doesn't like this."

"What? Working for us?"

He nodded. "He says that right can't come from wrong."

Dwyer looked thoughtful for a moment. "Your brother has a somewhat naive view of life, but that's to be expected. What's right? What's wrong? Rebellion against a government is wrong according to the laws of the government, but history records the rebellion against mage rule as the right thing to have done."

"That's an interestin' example," he remarked, frowning. "Especially considering what I've decided to do," he added mentally.

"The world is not so easily divided up into Light and Dark, good and evil, right and wrong. Good can come from evil. Right can come from wrong. Sometimes even Light can come from Darkness. I think you understand this. I don't think your brother does."

"Yeah, I guess I do. Which is why I'm here."

The priest waited patiently.

"I've been thinkin', and I think nothin's goin' to change without somethin' forcin' things to change. Well, nothin' will change quickly. But I've got no time to wait around."

"So what exactly are you saying?"

"I want things to change. I don't know how to make 'em change, but I bet you do. I bet you've even started, and that's what those messages I've been carryin' are about."

"You would not lose money on those bets," Dwyer replied.

"Are you goin' to try overthrowin' the governments and unitin' the city-states?"

"We do not have the resources for something quite that bold."

"Then how come I've been carryin' messages to the Iron Guild? I'm guessin' you've got me helpin' them smuggle weapons around."

A flicker of surprise crossed the older man's face.

"Yeah, I've been keepin' track of these things," he said, a bit smug. "But I don't know exactly why you want them to smuggle weapons."

"Right now our plan was to smuggle more weapons into Renfrew and basically start arming a private group of soldiers for your use."

"That's awful nice of you. I don't believe it for a second."

"Some other deals were going on, but that's basically what we're trying to do. Consolidate some mercenary power in Renfrew," the priest replied.

"And they could do work for you if I decided I didn't need them?"

"Waste not, want not."

"Figures."

"What, exactly, do you want, my Lord?"

"I want you to help me change things. In a big way. Do you think you could really unite the city-states?"

Dwyer leaned backwards in his chair and placed his fingertips together. "We could not do it, but we can help you find the people who can. Is that what you really want? To rule?"

"Oh, I don't want to rule all that. I'd be no good at it. I want to pick who does, of course."

"Of course."

"I just want things changed so that bad guys get punished. I can wait years and years and try change things the legit way, which probably won't work," he said, sounding bitter, "or I can help get it done the quick and dirty way."

"How far are you willing to go?"

"There are some people I don't want to get hurt. Other than that, I don't know right now."

"That's alright, for now. Your services as a messenger are actually most valuable. How is your progress with Arcana?"

"It's goin' alright, I guess. Not easy to pick up a new language."

"No, it isn't. Keep up the work with that. When you feel ready to go to Mulago and get a tutor or at least some books, let me know. I suggest you start your study of magic with mind magic and enchantments."

"What, controllin' people's minds?" he asked, appalled.

Dwyer nodded. "Not everyone can be bought or blackmailed. Some have to be forced."

"I don't like it."

"The alternatives are less pleasant."

"Killin' people?" He swallowed hard.

"Not necessarily. Just putting them out of the game for a while. Illness, or broken limbs."

"You people are ruthless."

"Politics is ruthless. So is conquest. You know that is what you're talking about?"

He swallowed again, his mouth feeling dry. "Yeah, I know. But this'll make things better. In the end."

"Well, if that's the end you want, you're going to have to get used to the idea that some of the means won't be pleasant or comfortable."

"Don't worry about me," he said shortly.

Dwyer looked over him with his sharp blue eyes. "We'll be starting a little slow, to get all the pieces into place. But a trained mind mage would make some things much easier."

"I'll think about it."

He nodded graciously. "Very well."

"I want to know what the plans are. I don't like you keepin' things from me. I want to be involved in plannin'."

"As you will, my Lord," he replied. "If you have time, we may start now."

"Now?" he repeated. "If I say 'yes,' there's no turning back," he thought.

"Well, if you're not ready, then perhaps in a few days?"

"Now will be fine," he replied, feeling the weight of the words sink in.

"Very well, my Lord," Dwyer said.

They talked for many hours.

A month passed in Tallis Marrom. The leaves turned red, brown, and gold, then fell to cover the forest floor. Mornings started with a layer of frost. The late autumn rains turned into light snow in about two weeks. Although the Council never remarked on Eliora's sudden focus on fighting, Jomei told her that they seemed pleased. Since she set her mind to the task, she was improving rapidly. Aidan introduced her to different sparring partners, and she even though he wasn't inclined to teach her to use any weapon besides a sword, she fought against those that used staves, axes, and just plain daggers. This had an unexpected social side-effect. She noticed that the young men had come to regard her as "one of the boys." Her gender and foreignness hardly seemed to register to them anymore. It was not exactly the sort of acceptance she had been looking for, but she saw no reason to upset the new social order.

The exception to this was Davin. He had never treated her the same as the others. He hadn't yet apologized for his harsh words to her, and he seemed not exactly distant, but waiting. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, and had little time to ponder the matter anyway, busy as she was. Still, she did see him at dinner occasionally, and ran into him often at the unused watchtower. The first time she found him there, she made ready to leave, but he had told her she was welcome to use it. For all their evenings on that watchtower, they only had three conversations of any length, and those came about a week apart. In the course of those conversations, it dawned on her that he had a formal way of speaking, as she did, and she realized that Northern was probably not his native language. But that was not something they talked about. The first conversation was when he taught her the names of the constellations, and some of the mythology behind them. The second conversation was about singing. Eliora had a wonderfully clear voice for singing, and her language was flowing and had a nice rhythm. She had been singing softly to herself on the watchtower, and so had not heard Davin approach.
"That was beautiful," he remarked.

She jumped, and flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't hear you coming."

"Where did you learn to sing?"

"History class. It's standard learning."

"You don't have written records?" he asked. "I thought that's what you did for a living."

"We do have written records now, but my people used to be, what's the word, wanderers? Travelers? Living out in the desert in small groups?"

"Nomads," he offered helpfully.

"Right. Nomads then. Many people still are nomads, and in that kind of life written records just aren't practical. So history is kept through songs passed down generation to generation. We still learn the old songs in school."

"Do you have bards in your society? People who just sing as their job?"

"Yes, and no. Those who sing must also write new songs, and I'm not a poet. And I didn't have the luxury of becoming an artisan anyway. I needed work that would provide me with a steady salary right from the beginning."

"Pity that. I think you've got one of the loveliest voices I've ever heard."

She blushed. "Please don't tell anyone though."

"Why not? Do you get stage fright?"

"Stage fright?" she repeated.

"Get embarrassed and nervous when you sing for lots of people," he clarified.

"Yes, I do. Even for my family. Frankly, I'm embarrassed right now."

"Don't be embarrassed on my account. I won't tell anyone. What were you singing about?"

"It was about the coming of summer."

"Summer?" A cold sleet was starting to fall from the sky. "How odd."

"It's nearing summer where I come from," she shrugged. "The days grow long, the sun grows hotter. The nomads come in from the deep deserts with their goods; exotic spices, textiles, gems, and sometimes even information about new water sources. Life seems busier, yet it stops during the heat of the day. It's a dangerous time, but one of hope and growth," she explained with a wistful expression. Then she sighed. "And here it's cold and wet and everything's dying." She glanced at him, embarrassed.

He had an odd look on his face.

"I'm sorry. This must be terribly boring, and when I sing I have a tendency to start speaking like the poet. Fine for song, but silly for ordinary conversation."

"It's fine."

They sat there a few moments, staring at the sky.

"You don't have to stop singing because of me," he commented.

"I told you, I'm embarrassed now."

"You don't have to be. I won't tell anyone. I won't judge your performance. I'll just listen."

She gave him a sharp look, but he was still staring out at the night, and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. After some time in sitting in silence, she softly started to sing again.

The third conversation was a tutorial on the proper way to make and throw snowballs. Both got wet and cold, but both were laughing when they decided to go inside and get warm. Mostly, though, they sat in silence, or after Davin found out she could sing, he asked her to do so. She guessed he enjoyed her company, and she enjoyed his well enough, but she could not figure out what he wanted from her, if anything.

The language lessons took up less time in the morning, as Jomei filled her in on the news of the area. At night she read books on the history of the region, and refreshed her knowledge of the Mage Wars. Within about two weeks, Jomei helped her plan for a trip to Mulago. They sent off a message using to make an appointment with the administrator of the Arcane Academy, although the pretense was to see about admittance for an older student. They also had to find clothes and money. Finally both of them felt she was ready.

She went to breakfast as normal, but instead of going to Jomei's cottage, she went to her own. Hanae was recruited to help Eliora learn to dress like a proper human lady, and of course sworn to secrecy. She found a plain, long, dark purple dress with appropriate underclothes.

"I do not like this," Eliora muttered in the Light language. "I thought the ordinary undergarments were tight enough."

"This is to give you shape," replied Hanae, pulling at a corset-like garment. "You don't need that under linen shirts and tunics. You just need support."

"Bother."

"I couldn't find any good shoes, so you'll just have to wear boots. But they shouldn't be noticed under the dress."

The material was like velvet, and Eliora thought it somewhat itchy.

"I guess you should just braid up your hair like usual," the demian continued. "Although most human women just braid it and leave it hanging down."

"I could do that."

When Eliora was fully dressed, she packed a leather bag with some money, some notes, a map of Mulago, and a note from Jomei in case she needed to go to the Temple of Day for some reason. The bag was large and mostly empty, but would hold the books she hoped to acquire.

"This will keep you warm," Hanae said, handing her a heavy, dark gray hooded cloak.

"I don't feel cold."

"You will look strange if you are out without a cloak when the snow is on the ground."

"Good point."

"Good luck, my Lady."

"Thank you, Hanae." With that, she turned and disappeared.

A month passed in Renfrew. Rain soon turned to sleet, which soon turned to snow. The leaves changed colors and fell off, leaving black skeletons of trees. A blanket of white covered the city, giving it a slightly unreal look. Donnan was busy carrying messages for the Order, continuing his fighting practice, and his study of Arcana. Blake had been very supportive when he found out Donnan was going to help bring about the unification of the city-states, and like Dwyer, he dismissed Alain's objections as naive. Privately, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that Alain was probably wiser than the priests gave him credit for.

His relationship with his brother had been a little strained. Alain did not ask him what he was up to, and didn't lecture him on right and wrong again. He did talk about the guard, and seemed to emphasize what good the guard was doing. He also hinted that Reese was going to get his comeuppance soon. Donnan didn't think anything was really going to come of it, and only felt more bitter.

He worked hard in his tutoring, and did well enough to go out with Aolani three more times. They talked about politics, the guard, the weather, and various sundry topics. She talked amiably about her teaching, her students, but only a little bit about herself and her family. He talked little of his family, mostly about what adventures Alain had during the night watch. Not once did she offer to see him outside of tutoring or the outings they went on as a reward for his good performance, and he felt too insecure to ask, sure he would be rejected. The second of their outings was interrupted by a young woman of Aolani's age, who walked over to the table to talk to Aolani. She completely ignored Donnan, which clearly made Aolani uncomfortable, and she soon sent her friend away.

"Sorry about that," she apologized.

"It was nice of her to say hello," he replied bitterly.

She sighed. "Good breeding doesn't mean good manners. Unfortunately."

"Why didn't you introduce me?"

"I do apologize for that. It was terribly rude of me. But she would have forgotten your name within minutes of leaving the table. Besides, she might have taken that as an invitation to stay longer."

"Alright. I guess."

She frowned, but turned the conversation to lighter subjects.

As his studies progressed, Dwyer started to talk more and more often of visiting Mulago. Donnan agreed, and the priest made plans.

"Are you ready to go?" the priest asked one morning.

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"Everything is all set. As you might imagine, those buying books on mind magic are regarded with some suspicion. But I have directions for you to a shop that will be sympathetic to your particular needs."

"Yeah. Sure. Today's as good as any day, right?" he answered, trying to gather his courage.

"Do you think you can speak enough Arcana to get by?"

"Yeah."

"Very well. I suggest you go soon, and appear near Public Square. It's busy all hours of the day, but especially in the mornings. Then walk to your destination. I don't think it's a good idea to use too many of your abilities in the vicinity of the Arcane Academy."

"Alright." Donnan stood.

The priest handed him a large leather bag. "It has money and a scroll with directions. It should have enough room to hold several books. I suggest you change in your nicest clothes first. You're too young to be allowed to be both wealthy and poorly dressed. And wear a cloak. I've noticed you've been walking around without one."

"I'm not cold."

"Be that as it may, you do stand out without a cloak in this weather."

He nodded, then left. After a change of clothes, he stepped into the shadows and vanished.

Mulago was a rich and busy city of about fifty thousand inhabitants. Most of the trade was related to the Arcane Academy, as many graduates chose to settle in the city and manufacture enchanted items. It was good business. A steady stream of high quality raw materials flowed in, along with a lot of money.

Eliora appeared in a small street near the Public Square of the city and followed the noise to emerge in a crowded plaza. It was about two hundred feet on a side, paved with large, flat stones, and most of the snow had been swept away. On the stones were carved the names of famous and wealthy people who had contributed to the city, but that was the only decoration. There were no fountains or statuary of any kind in the square. People crossed back and forth going to the high-class shops that surrounded it. There were a few street vendors, but these were looked upon with suspicion. Some people were clearly mages, and all were well-dressed. A few glanced at her cloak with contempt, but no one really took any notice of her. She looked to the north, and a few blocks up was a tall and imposing stone structure.

"That would be the Arcane Academy," she thought. She threaded through the crowds, feeling curiously at home. "It's rather like the bazaar," she thought. She was halfway across the square when she was caught by a chill wind, strong enough to push her hood down and much colder than the air around her. Driven by a strange compulsion, she stopped in her tracks, turned, and looked, not knowing exactly what she was looking for.

Donnan came out of the shadows in small street off the Public Square. He walked toward the crowded plaza, when he suddenly felt a flash of heat. Feeling oddly compelled, he stopped, turned, and looked, not knowing exactly what he was looking for.

She scanned the crowd, trying to find the source of whatever had caused the feeling that had disturbed her. Her eyes fell on a young man about her age. He was dressed in what she judged to be nice clothes for the region, complete with a long black cloak. He had a long, dirty-blond ponytail, a pale complexion, was clean-shaven, tall, lanky, and he was looking at her.

He looked around, trying to figure out what had bothered him. His eyes fell on a young woman about his age. She was wearing a nice, heavy dark purple dress and dark gray cloak. Her hair was glossy black and braided in a crown, her complexion was dark, she was tall, exotic, and she was looking at him.

Their eyes locked. Each recognized the other for what they were. Without conscious thought, they started to circle around each other, but getting closer with each step. The crowd moved for them, each person somehow realizing that they didn't want to be between those two. When they were just out of arm's length of each other, they stopped getting closer but continued to circle each other cautiously.

"So," he said. "You must be the LightBearer."

He was speaking Northern, although he had a rustic drawl to his speech. "I am. You must be the ShadowWalker," she returned.

Her voice had a strange, foreign accent. "You're a woman."

"You were expecting otherwise?"

"Yeah. I think I was," he replied. "You're not from around here."

"No, I'm not. What do we do now?"

"I'm not sure. I wasn't expectin' to meet you so soon."

"Me neither."

Business continued in the Square, albeit not within several feet of the Avatars. Both seemed oblivious to the crowd, and the crowd seemed determined to ignore them. They stopped their pacing, but kept out of arm's reach of each other.

"Are you goin' to kill me?" he asked.

She looked him over, feeling pity and concern. "He's just a boy, maybe my age. He doesn't like an evil or mighty warrior. He looks like I feel – scared and unsure of himself and what he's supposed to do. If I met him elsewhere, I might try to be friends with him. How could I be expected to kill him?" she thought. "I don't want to," she answered.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly. I don't want to kill anyone," she replied earnestly.

He could hear the sincerity in her voice. "Are you goin' to fight me?"

"If I must. Are-are you going to kill me?" she asked, her voice faltering.

"If you get in my way," he replied with a black look.

"Do you want to kill me?"

He looked her over, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. "Gods damn it," he thought. "I expected to see a great warrior, riding a mighty horse and carrying a flaming sword or something. The LightBearer is a woman? She can't be older than I am, and she's kind of pretty. Gods, she looks as scared as I feel. And she must be far away from home and family. I don't want to fight a woman. If I met her on the street, I might ask her to dinner." He answered, "I don't know. You're not what I was expectin'. I was expectin' a warrior."

"I'm hardly that. I think I was expecting a warrior too. I certainly wasn't expecting someone so young."

"Young? You can't be more than a few years older than I am," he replied indignantly.

"That's probably true."

His eyes turned black and he peered into her soul. There was the touch of divinity, as expected, more Light than Dark, as expected, but the Darkness was surprisingly deep. "I wonder what that means. Is she evil? Angry? Bitter? How weird."

Her eyes turned white and she peered into his soul. There was the touch of divinity, as expected, more Darkness than Light, but she was surprised to find that both were still closely balanced.

"That's not what I was expectin' either," he commented.

"Me neither."

They stared at each other for another few moments.

"How do we get out of this?" he asked.

"We could step back slowly and go on our separate ways," she suggested.

"Or I could start a fight," he countered, mostly to see how she would react.

"I wouldn't."

"I know you wouldn't," he retorted.

"I mean, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?"

"We'll soon be set upon by several dozen angry mages. Do you think you're really ready to fight me? And them?" she asked, suddenly worried for the safety of those around them.

"I hadn't thought of that," he replied, with a quick glance at the imposing Arcane Academy. "Alright, we step back slowly. But if we meet again, I'll won't be so nice."

She almost smiled at his clearly half-hearted threat. "Of course. Next time I'll be prepared."

They stepped backwards until they were about forty feet apart.

"Good day," he said, bowing very slightly.

"Good day," she returned. Even though she knew they were on opposing sides, she felt a connection, and a strong desire to apologize for what she knew was inevitable. "For what it's worth to you," she called. "I didn't want this, and I wish we didn't have to fight. I'm really sorry things had to be this way. You don't seem like a bad person."

Surprised by this outburst, he searched her face looking for a sign of deception, but her sentiments seemed genuine. He nodded slightly, feeling a connection to her in an odd way, and understanding her intention. "Yeah, I know. It wasn't my choice either. But we can't argue with the gods."

She sighed. "I know."

They continued to back up until both stepped into side streets. As if on cue, the crowd filled the Square again, and the other was lost from sight.

Eliora leaned against the cool stone wall and breathed deeply. "That wasn't supposed to happen. What are the odds he'd decide to visit the same day I do? I guess there's no help for it now." When she felt calmed down, she called to the iridescents. "Let me know if I'm being followed."

"Yes, Mistress." It bowed and vanished.

She pulled her hood back up and continued on her way to the Arcane Academy.

Donnan stood in an alleyway, still feeling sick at his stomach. "Damn it to darkness! Good gods, what're the odds I'd run into the LightBearer? She's just a girl." He shook his head to clear it. "No, it's too late now. There's no turning back." He called to the darklings. "Follow the LightBearer. Don't do anythin', just don't get caught. I want to know what's she doin' here."

"Yes, Master," the creature hissed, sounding upset.

When it melted back into the shadows, he continued on his way.

The Arcane Academy was a large three story complex made of gray, black, and white heavy stone. It was only one building, but it branched out in places. The windows on the first floor were small and narrow, but the other floors had normal sized windows set with colored glass mosaics. The Academy was set apart from the rest of the downtown area buildings by a high wall of obsidian glass, and a large pair of metal gates. The glass was strengthened with decades worth of wards. The Academy was one of the few that was not destroyed or closed down after the Mage Wars. Many mages were born in the region, and the denizens had learned long ago that tolerating an Arcane Academy was preferable to the dangerous effects of wild and untrained magic. The school could hold up to three thousand students.

The one word that came to Eliora's mind as she stared at the metal gates was: fortified. She wasn't sure whether that was a result of the Mage Wars, or simply a precaution given the inherent volatile nature of teaching magic. A small wooden guard booth was set up by the gate, and was occupied by pair of bored looking guards.

"Name and purpose, please," one said in Arcana.

"I come under the name of 'Orlice' and I have an appointment with the Principal this morning regarding admission of an older student," she answered. She had given the name of her magical animal companion because the name was not unheard of in the northern lands as her own name was.

The other pulled out a checklist. He scanned it, then said, "Very well, madam. Go directly up the path. The secretary in the foyer will direct you to the proper office."

The one who spoke first then opened a normal sized door that was cunningly hidden in the gate.

She walked through the door, and it was shut behind her. She could see no seam in the smooth metal. There was another guard stationed inside the gate in a similar wooden booth. She assumed he'd be the one to let her out again. There was a gravel path that lead directly to the complex. The front doors were large and wooden. She raised her hand to knock, but the door opened of its own accord. Slightly put off, she walked inside.

The foyer was a large square area. Since little outside light was allowed in, the room was lit with glow globes set into the wall. The floor was polished white marble, the walls were paneled wood, making it a little difficult to see the seven doors, and the corners had green plants in pots. In the center of the room was an ash desk occupied by a middle aged female mage wearing dark blue robes.

Eliora pushed down her hood and walked up to the desk.

"State your business and your name," the woman said in Arcana, taking no notice of her exotic appearance.

She repeated what she had told the guard.

The woman wrote something on a sheet on paper and handed it to her. "This is a pass. You will need to show this to the Principal's secretary." Then she gave her instructions on how to reach the appropriate office.

She had to navigate a series of stairs and hallways, and all the walls were paneled in wood, so she had to backtrack a few times to find the right door. She got the distinct impression that there were other, better hidden doors in the hallways. All in all, it took her about twenty minutes to find the right place.

She entered another square room on the third floor. This one had only one door out as far as she could tell, and that was behind the secretary's desk, next to a number of large filing cabinets. In front of the secretary's desk were chairs to seat about ten people. Two places were already occupied, and with the time change, it was barely an hour past sunrise.

"Pass, please," said the secretary.

She handed the paper to the middle-aged male mage who was also wearing dark blue robes. She had already read over it, and realized it had nothing more on it than the information she had already given the first secretary.

"The Principal will see you shortly. Please have a seat."

"Well, I know what this means," she thought, annoyed, but not surprised. She was quite familiar with how bureaucracy worked, and settled herself in for at least an hour's wait.

She was surprised, however, when a tall man in his sixties suddenly came out of the office in the back. He had gray hair, a gray mustache and beard, and a long gray ponytail, and was looking directly at her with steel gray eyes. He was carrying a tall staff of finely wrought iron, topped with a clear crystal of some sort. His mage robes were deepest black, with no sign of any decoration or embroidery.

"Come with me," he ordered.

The secretary looked confused, and the two others who were already seated looked angry, but the mage took no notice of that.

She stood up and entered his office. Before the door closed she could hear the other two people starting to argue with the secretary. She felt quite sorry for the poor man.

"Sit." He was using Arcana.

His office was larger than she expected, and covered with bookshelves and filing cabinets. It had a window, but the curtains were drawn. The light in the room came from glow globes set into the wall. He had a large mahogany desk and a high backed, dark brown leather chair. The chairs for guests were smaller leather chairs. She sat down.

"Why are you here, LightBearer?" he asked, without ceremony. He kept his staff within arms' reach.

"You know who am I?" she replied, not entirely surprised.

"How could I not?" he returned, switching to the Northern language, although he using a dialect she wasn't familiar with.

Arcana was a formal and limited language, more of a trade-tongue. "If he's switching languages, that means he can't say what he wants to in Arcana. That's probably not good," she thought, trying to keep up with the new dialect.

"The wards on the wall do more than just strengthen the stone. We always make it a point to watch who's bringing magic into our halls. Why are you here? Why did you make an appointment under false pretenses?"

Her courage faltered for a moment, but she gathered it back up again, reminding herself that she had dealt with worse scoldings from Izak. "I didn't make an appointment under false pretenses. I do actually want to ask about training for an older student."

He gave her a steely stare. "Yourself."

"Yes."

"We can't admit you."

"I wouldn't ask for that."

"Then what do you want from us?"

"Advice. And a starting place."

"You still ask for much. You shouldn't be here at all. We don't wish to be involved in whatever the gods are planning," he replied. "Giving you any aid is involvement, and we could fare poorly depending on the outcome of this battle. Yes, we know about that too," he added, seeing her startled look. "We are not allowed to interfere."

"I know about the Arcane Covenant, but I don't think that applies in this situation."

"You are from the desert continent, are you not?"

"Yes," she answered, confused at this sudden change of topic.

He stood up and started to pace nervously behind his desk. "Of all the people in the world, we mages are on the best terms with yours. That's probably because the Mage Wars did the least damage in your lands. But here the landscape has been scarred by those Wars. The people here have not forgiven us for the actions of our predecessors. Our presence here is tolerated because we bring in money and trade. We are not liked. And we do not, as a rule, interfere in politics."

"My situation isn't exactly political."

"It could be. Do you have any idea how many people know about this Avatar battle?" he asked.

"No. Not many, I think."

"Not many right now. We mages know, and both Orders know. But it's hardly common knowledge. We fear that it will become common knowledge the first time you two fight, and then we will be the first blamed. I doubt the Order of Darkness would do much to counter that mistaken notion," he explained dryly.

"Oh, I see. You're afraid people will think mages are trying to become a power again, and blame you before they even find out the truth."

He nodded. "It wouldn't help if it came out that either of you were here, or that we helped either of you in any way."

"You'd help the ShadowWalker?"

"We'd rather not aid either of you, frankly. But the only way to avoid accusations of being involved or taking sides would be to aid you both." Upon seeing her appalled expression, he lowered his voice. "However, we would probably not aid the ShadowWalker unless we had already aided you."

"You would administer the exactly the same help to him as to me?"

He nodded. "We must be absolutely equal in our dealings."

"Alright. I'll I'm asking is for advice. That shouldn't be too dangerous."

"You are asking for knowledge. That's the most dangerous thing in the world." But he sat back down in his chair.

"I want to learn to use my arcane powers, but I gather it would be too much to ask to find a tutor?"

He nodded.

"Then can you tell me where to find books I could use to teach myself magic?"

"Our books are not really written in that fashion."

"You have no primer sorts of books?"

He shook his head. "No. We don't want to encourage mages to try to learn magic on their own. It is difficult and dangerous, not only to the mage, but to the surrounding area."

She was starting to feel discouraged. "I think he could be more helpful, but he doesn't really want to be. I had heard that mages tend to be a bit elitist and closed to non-mages, but I'd hoped for better. I guess I will also have to earn this man's respect." Then the hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle, and she got the oddest feeling she was being watched. "Then how am I supposed to learn magic if I can't be tutoring and I can't learn from books?"

"Perhaps you should not pursue the study of arcane magic. You have divine magic to fall back on. Surely you could find a cleric willing to teach you how to use that?"

The watched feeling was not going away. Her attention was being drawn to a shadow in the corner of the room. She tried not to stare, but it was bothering her.

"But untrained magic is dangerous."

"Indeed. And you should not use it."

"I use magic on instinct. As do most untrained mages," she replied, now annoyed at his recalcitrance.

"And the first thing any mage is taught is the self-discipline to resist that urge. I'm sure that's something you can learn on your own."

The shadow in the corner seemed deeper and darker than the other shadows. She was also picking up a vague chill from that area, which the mage didn't seem to notice. "I didn't expect it would be easy to convince you to help me," she sighed. She knew mages were fond of their power, and didn't like to acknowledge that others could have as much or more power, so she decided to gamble and see how caught up in his abilities this mage was. "But do you realize how powerful I am?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

"No, it's an honest question. You seem to know a lot about the Avatar battle. I'm not entirely surprised, but I wonder how much you know about the powers of the Avatars."

"I know that your power comes from the gods. You would be better off studying divine magic."

Now she was convinced there was something Dark in that corner of the room. Without a second thought, she stood up and raised her hand. A beam of pure, bright, divine Light was emitted from her palm, past the startled mage, and into the shadows in the corner. There was a hideous and unearthly scream as the darkling assigned to follow her was consumed and destroyed by the Light.

The mage was staring at her, his gray eyes large and full of fear.

There was a cautious knock on the door.

"Sir? Are you alright, sir?" came the timid voice of the secretary.

"Yes," he answered, his voice hoarse. "Yes, I'm fine. Go back to work."

"Very good, sir."

She sat back down, trying to hide her own fear of what she had done. Seeing the mage shaken up, she decided to press him into taking her seriously. "Had I tried that with arcane magic, you would have probably been hurt nearly as badly as the darkling."

"Darkling?" he repeated.

She nodded. "I've read about them in the Book of Sol. They are creatures of Darkness. That one was watching me. And I have destroyed it."

"Yes, of course. We know of them, but do not generally concern ourselves with such creatures. We have wards to protect us."

She refrained from commenting on the effectiveness of the wards. "I'm more powerful than any cleric, or any sorcerer. Are you still unwilling to provide with even the smallest amount of guidance?" She decided not to mention her elemental control.

He leaned back in his chair and half closed his eyes, clearly calming himself down and pondering the question. In a few moments, he opened his eyes again and leaned forward. "What fields do you want to learn?"

She paused, sensing there was more to his question. "I want to learn healing, defensive magic, dispelling magic, and how to scry." She got the distinct feeling she was being judged.

After a tense moment, he nodded slowly.

She almost smiled with relief, knowing she had passed whatever test he had just given her.

"You seek knowledge to gain more knowledge, and to protect others. That's very wise, and I would expect you would use the scry only to find out the movements of your enemy, not to learn secrets you have no business trying to find out."

She nodded.

"I can direct you to a bookstore. Do you have money?"

"Yes," she replied with sigh, thinking of the pittance Jomei managed to gather.

As though guessing her thoughts, the mage said in a low voice, "My aid to you must be limited because of my official capacity as Principal of one of only three surviving Arcane Academies. Individual mages, such as shop proprietors, may weigh the responsibility for aiding you for themselves."

Now she did smile with relief.

He gave her instructions, then stood and went to the door.

She stood up to leave.

"One more word of advice. We don't know why the gods have done this. We fear the outcome of your battle may have more consequences that reach beyond your lifetimes. I suggest you ask a cleric or the god Itself what is the purpose. Remember, knowledge is the greatest form of power. You will do well to arm yourself with as much knowledge as you can before you fight with the ShadowWalker."

"Thank you," she replied, and bowed.

"Good day," he returned, with a slight bow of his own. Then he opened the door.

She exited the office and turned to the secretary. "Do I need anything else?"

He looked at her suspiciously, marked something on the pass, and returned it to her. "Give this to the secretary at the front desk. Go straight out. Do not wander around the corridors. Good day," he answered curtly.

She did so, and soon was free of the imposing structure. As expected, the guard on the inside had to open the door for her. She took her time walking to the bookstore, allowing the chilly air to clear her mind. It was slowly dawning on her that she had completely destroyed the darkling in the corner. "My gods, I've killed someone. Or something," she thought, feeling horrified and vaguely disgusted. "Later. I'll talk to Jomei about it later. I have to finish my errands here now. I don't want to run into the ShadowWalker again."

Following the Principal's instructions, she turned down several streets and found herself in a more middle class neighborhood. Eventually she came to a line of shops and found the bookstore. She entered, causing a bell behind the door to chime loudly.

It had windows, but heavy curtains were drawn, making the room quite dark. The air was dusty and had the musty smell that comes from years of being infused with the scent of old paper and leather. It was two stories, with a narrow staircase on the left side in the back. On the right side near the door was a solid wooden counter with a cash register on it. A short, stout woman in her fifties wearing dark green robes, glasses, with graying brown hair and brown eyes was sitting on a stool, reading a book.

Eliora was not fooled. She knew the woman was watching her intently, and she guessed there was probably a staff hidden underneath the counter. She walked up to the counter. "Excuse me," she said in Arcana. "I'm looking to purchase some books on healing magic, defensive magic, dispelling, and scrying."

The woman closed her book and placed it carefully on the counter top. Her eyes flicked to something beneath the counter. "Were you followed?"

It took a moment to register the odd question. "I was followed to the school, but I-I destroyed the creature that was following me."

The woman nodded. "Good. Then I may be able to help you. Stay here." She waved a hand, and Eliora heard the front door lock turn over. The proprietor hopped off her stool and went searching the shelves with a more nimble gait than she looked capable of initially. After several minutes, she returned with six books and a flat, square box that was about the size of a book. "How much money do you have with you?"

Eliora turned out her purse.

"Pity, pity," the woman murmured. "That's not a tenth of what this lot is worth. Still, some sacrifices must be made."

"You know who I am?" she asked in a low voice.

"How could I not?" she answered, switching to the Northern tongue. "We mages have our own way of finding things out. But we don't know enough, I fear. All I know is that I would rather you win this battle, come what will afterward, than your counterpart."

"Thank you, I think."

"These are the best books I can find the subject. I wish to gods you could get properly tutored, but even I won't go so far as to get that involved. The box holds a scrying mirror. Read before you practice magic, and be careful. You are more powerful than a sorcerer, and I shudder to think what would happen if one of your spells goes wrong."

She looked over the books, which were thick with leather covers and titles written in Arcana. She quickly packed everything away, slung the pack over her shoulder, and pulled her hood up. "Thank you for your generosity."

"Don't mistake my motives. This is self-preservation. You bring danger to us, which is why you found little help at the Academy. Now get out of here, and leave this city as quickly as you can."

She departed from the shop and turned down a few streets, looking only for a place where she could disappear. As soon as she found an empty alleyway, she vanished.

Donnan followed the instructions given to him by Dwyer, trying to put the meeting out of his mind. He wandered through the downtown area and into progressively more low class neighborhoods. He turned down a dirty and cramped street, looking for the shop. He missed it the first time, and had to walk back down to find it. He entered, causing a bell to ring. Its chime was oddly discordant.

The shop was cleaner than the street. It was dark, with heavy curtains, and smelled predominantly of old books, but there were other chemical smells in the air. There were two stories to the shop, with a staircase on the right side in the back. On the bottom floor were bookshelves, but some shelves were filled with unfamiliar devices and bottles of strange liquids. Near the door was a counter with a cash register. Behind it sat a tall, skinny woman who seemed to be between forty and sixty. She had a bony, long face with few wrinkles, but her hair was blond mixed with gray. She was wearing dark green robes with a thick, neutral brown hem. Her sharp eyes were large and hazel, and she was staring at him through a pair of small reading glasses.

"May I help you?" she asked disdainfully, and in Arcana.

"I've come to purchase some supplies," he answered also in Arcana, and handed her the scroll Dwyer had given him. "But you should read this first. It's in regard to a debt."

With a slight snort, she took the scroll and quickly read through it. Then her mouth became a thin line. She crumpled it up angrily and shoved it back at him. "Well. I expected my debt would come due," she said crisply. "I've been instructed to give you any books or supplies you ask for."

"I want books on mind magic, enchantments in general, portals, and scrying. And of course a scrying dish."

She considered this a moment. "I suppose it's in my best interest not to ask what you want these particular items for."

"The less you know, the better."

She looked him over thoroughly.

He felt uncomfortable under her searching gaze.

"Do you know what will happen if you win this battle?" she asked, switching to Northern.

"You know about that? You know who I am?" he blurted, surprised.

"How could I not? We mages have our own ways of finding out what's going on the world. We know of your battle."

"You're not goin' to interfere or anythin'?" he asked, trying to make his question sound a threat, but not quite succeeding. He felt as though the woman's sharp gaze could see right through him.

"We are bound by the Arcane Covenant not to interfere in the affairs of non-mages."

"I don't think the Covenant covers this sort of thing."

"Nonetheless, it is not in our best interest to interfere. There is much ill will between mages and non-mages, and no doubt the aid I'm going to give you today will not help matters." Her stare became even more intense.

He thought quickly, sure that she was testing him in some fashion. "You think people are goin' to think the Avatars are just mages fightin'."

"Not just fighting, judging by your shopping list. But yes, that's the crux of the matter. Only the Orders and ourselves seem to know what's really going on. The ordinary laypeople have no idea. We shall be unfairly blamed for the actions of you and your counterpart. No doubt your Order will do little to disabuse people of that notion."

"They aren't my Order," he retorted.

"No? You work for them, or they work for you. Either way, you're part of the Order now."

He frowned. "I am not."

She shrugged slightly. "That's between you and the Order. But you have yet to answer my original question. Do you know what will happen if you win this battle?"

"Sure," he lied.

"I doubt you are truly so confident. The Order does not help anyone unless they gain something in return. They also do not give more information than they have to. I suspect that there are consequences to this battle that are more far-reaching than what you can do for the Order in your own lifetime. I suggest you ponder that question, and consult your god directly. The clerics will tell nothing unless it's in their best interest."

"I didn't come here for a lecture. Just give me the stuff," he replied, irritated that this mage seemed to have accurately guessed so much about his situation and some of his private doubts. He was also disturbed, but not surprised, to find out that very few people knew about the Avatars.

The woman broke her stare. "Wait here," she ordered. Then she got up from her chair, locked the shop door, and proceeded to walk around the shop.

Growing increasingly impatient, he waited for nearly forty-five minutes before she returned. She placed five books and a small, flat box on the counter.

"The box holds a scrying dish. It took me some time to find one I think will suit you. Read the books before you do any of the spells, and try to practice them far away from other people. The greater the power put into a spell, the greater the backlash can be. You have great power."

He looked over the books. They were thick with leather covers and titles written in Arcana. "What's this?" he asked, pulling a plain black book. It had no title on the cover.

"The Book of Lunae."

"I didn't ask for this."

"It's a gift. I suggest you read through it. It is the holy text of the Order of Darkness, and something of a history of the Dark One and Its motives, if you can get past the rather epic language and many metaphors."

He stared at the thin mage, trying to guess her motives, but her face was expressionless. In her eyes, though, he thought he saw the faintest hint of concern. "Thanks. I think."

"Should you decide to keep my gift, I suggest you also keep it from the Order."

"Yeah. I'll do that." He gathered the books up in the bag. He did have some money, and his initial thought had been to not pay the mage if he didn't have to. He figured anyone who owed the Order a favor deserved what they got. But now it seemed that she was showing some kindness to him, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Finally he settled on just being honest. "I wasn't goin' to pay you, but you've been nice to me. I've got money, but not enough for all this I'm sure."

"It seems the Order doesn't have a complete hold on you yet, and I'll take that as a good sign, but I won't take the money. Their generosity, despite your good intentions, always comes with a price. I don't wish to owe them anything else."

"Alright. Well, thanks then."

She nodded. "Watch yourself. Shadows can move when you're not looking."

A little disturbed, he left the shop, turned down a deserted alleyway, and vanished.

Eliora returned to her cottage in plenty of time to change clothes and go to Jomei's cottage before lunch. Instead she dropped her pack in the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Now that her errands were finished, her thoughts turned back to the destruction of the darkling. She remembered that inhuman, hideous cry of pain and sorrow. Tears stung her eyes, and she dissolved into great heaving sobs at the horror of what she'd done.

She lost all track of time, and so was surprised to hear a timid knock on the door.

"Eliora, are you alright?" came Aidan's voice.

She guessed it must be past midday if he was looking for her. She got up and went into the living room, but didn't open the door. "I'm not feeling well today," she answered.

"So you're not coming to practice?"

"Not today."

"Well, alright. But if you're sick, you really should get some food or something. You need to keep up your strength."

"Thank you."

"Well, I'll see you later. Hope you feel better," he called, then she heard the crunch of snow as he walked away.

She laid down on the couch and commanded the fire to spring to life. It did so, but seemed as depressed as she was. Soon there was another knock on the door.

"Eliora, may I come in?" came the voice of Jomei.

She waved a hand, and the lock turned over. "Enter," she called, sitting up.

He closed the door behind him and re-locked it. Seeing she was still in a dress, he checked to make sure the curtains were firmly drawn and secured. He took a seat in the chair next to her, then noticed her eyes were red and puffy. "Oh, what happened?"

She told him about meeting the Principal of the Academy and of the destruction of the darkling. Then she started to cry again.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I had no idea you'd encounter such dangers on such a simple errand."

"I killed someone," she sobbed.

"Not someone. Something. Darklings and iridescents are not human."

"You-you didn't hear it scream. It felt pain."

"All darklings feel is pain, Eliora. All they know is Darkness. All they know is suffering. You were freeing it from torment."

"How-how do you know that?" she sniffled.

"My Order is aware of what these creatures are, and probably knows where they come from. I personally don't know that, but I do know that they are not human. I'm not even sure they have souls."

"It can't be-be Dark if it doesn't have a soul."

"I'm not sure about that. There's much we don't know. You don't know what that creature was planning. Perhaps it meant to harm you, or harm that mage. You possibly saved his life, and possibly your own."

"I still killed something."

"Eliora, you destroyed something that should not be. There's a great difference," the priest countered.

"Then shouldn't I destroy iridescents too?"

"They do no harm. I have no doubt that darkling meant to do someone harm."

She still felt uncertain about the whole ordeal.

"I do wonder why it was following you. I suppose the StormBringer could have just sent it to find you, but it's curious he should pick today of all days. Still, better it found you in Mulago than here."

She remembered the shop proprietor's words and sighed. "It's not fair to Mulago if the ShadowWalker thinks that's where I am."

"No, it's not. But it buys us more time. Hopefully the darkling never got a chance to report back to its master, and your location will remain hidden."

She felt curiously reluctant to mention that she had met the ShadowWalker. Before she could decide what to say, he was asking her another question.

"Did you get some books?"

"Yes. Yes I did. The shopkeeper took all my money, but she gave me books and a scrying dish."

"May the Light One bless her always," he replied. "Thank goodness. I was afraid the mages wouldn't help at all."

"They didn't want to." She paused. "Jomei, do you know what happens if I win?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the gods have clearly done something with this Avatar battle. Whatever they've done, does it stop here, with me, and with him?"

He shook his head. "I honestly don't know."

"Could you ask the god?"

"I can ask, but I don't know what It'll say. The ways of the gods are hidden, even to the clergy in many cases."

She nodded. "I understand."

There was a long pause.

"If you don't need me anymore, I'm going to take my leave. I'll make sure everyone knows that you're just feeling sick today. No one should ask questions, but you really ought to change, and make sure you keep your new books out of sight."

"There's one other thing, but I'm afraid it'll alarm you."

He sat back down.

"I met the ShadowWalker."

He blinked. "You what?" he stuttered.

"I met the ShadowWalker. In the Public Square as I was heading to the Academy. I think that's why the darkling was following me today. He probably told it to. He was as surprised as I was to actually meet."

"My gods. What did you do?"

"We walked up to each other. He looked into my soul, and I looked into his. We exchanged a few words. Basically he just told me what I told him, which was that I was surprised to meet him, and surprised to find out he seems like just another young man. Then we sort of backed off, and I told him I was sorry for all this."

"Wait, wait. So you saw you? Saw what you looked like?"

"Yes. My hood blew down. He did remark that I wasn't from around here."

"But you didn't tell him your name, right?" he asked urgently.

"No. I didn't give him any personal information at all. Why are you so alarmed?"

"Your appearance sets you apart. He could give your description to the Order of Darkness and that would make it a lot easier to find you."

"I thought the forest was warded because of the demians."

"Well, yes, as far as we know. The wards have never been tested against such power," he replied, looking very worried. "This is bad. I'm afraid the Council will have to be told at once."

"Oh, must they? They'll want to know what I was doing in Mulago in the first place. This is going to get you into a lot of trouble."

He got up and started to pace nervously. "I know. But they must be aware of this. The Order has many resources, and there are traders that come into the city to pick up demian goods. They could send a spy."

"Are you sure you're not overreacting? This is a big area. Even knowing what I look like would be like trying to find," she fumbled a moment to translate a common expression into an unfamiliar language,"like trying to find a glass bead in a sand dune."

He gave a nervous laugh. "You may be right. You're probably right. But I have to tell them."

"No, you don't. I really don't think anything is going to come of this, not right now. And if you tell the Council, then that's it. I get no more news, and they aren't ready to accept me. We need to stick to the plan," she said, her voice both pleading and determined.

He looked at her with some surprise, still not accustomed the strength she could occasionally show. "Alright, although this is against my better judgment."

"I'll be careful. I'll stay away from the traders, and listen for any unusual questions. I'll look immediately into the defensive magic and start casting circles of protection. I'll accept all the consequences of keeping this secret."

"Very well. I can't ask for more than that." He sat back down. "What else troubles you?"

"Am I supposed to kill him, Jomei?"

"What?" the priest blurted, startled. "Kill who? The StormBringer?"

She nodded.

"I honestly don't know. I think that murder certainly goes against the Light, but I do understand there are situations when killing is acceptable. I certainly don't think it's good. I think you should find some other way of stopping him, if you can." He sighed. "But I think you should prepare yourself for the worst."

"He's just a boy."

"A boy?"

"Well, not really. He's my age. Aidan's age. Davin's age. He could be one of the young men here. He could be the son of any of the Council members."

"Oh, dear," he sighed.

"He looked scared. I mean, I think he did. I don't think he understands what this is all about either. Can you imagine? You're just a young man, and suddenly you're told you have to fight for the Dark One for reasons you don't understand? It was hard enough on me being told I had to be a warrior for the Light, but to be told to fight for Darkness? It must be terrible."

"It's good you feel such compassion, Eliora. I'm proud of you for being able to see that the StormBringer is not so different from you. But I'm afraid that sort of compassion might be dangerous. You might hesitate at the wrong moment, and then he'll kill you."

"Do you really think he'll kill me? He didn't look like a killer."

The priest sighed. "Perhaps not now. But he's under the influence of the Dark One. Perhaps even under the influence of the Order of Darkness. I'm sure they'll convince him in time he'll have to kill you."

She stared into the fire. "I don't want to kill."

"Nor should you have to. Maybe you won't have to. But please don't let your compassion get you killed. You must win this fight."

"I understand. I think I'd like to be left alone now."

He stood up. "People are asking about you. Shall I tell them that you're sick?"

She nodded.

"I understand. This was a much more difficult day than expected. I hope I have provided you with some small measure of comfort."

"Yes."

"I really am sorry," he said, and left.

She went into the bedroom and spent twenty minutes struggling with the clothes. Finally she was free of them and suddenly found her usual clothes to feel as light and open as her robes. Then she called to the iridescents.

"Yes, Mistress?" answered one, appearing from nowhere.

"I told you to let me know if I was being followed."

"We would have told you when you asked."

She felt angry. "So you would have just let that creature follow me around until I remembered to ask?"

"Yes, Mistress," it said, but didn't seem to register her anger. "We only do as we are told. You did not tell us how to let you know if you were being followed."

"Oh, I see," she replied with a sigh and a frown. "Next time I'll be more specific. When did that it start to follow me?"

"Soon after you parted with the ShadowWalker."

"Thank you. Please let me know immediately if one of those creatures gets within two miles of the city."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You may go."

It bowed and disappeared.

She entered the living room and looked at the fire. It was burning a little more brightly now. She laid a couch cushion down on the floor about two feet in front of the grate and knelt down. In her own language, she started to pray. "God of Light, hear me. God of Light, show me. God of Light, guide me. God of Light, answer me."

The fire popped and danced, then suddenly turned blue with heat and took the shape of a camel, a desert pack animal with long neck and four spindly legs.

She almost laughed, she was so surprised to see her prayer result in such a familiar yet comical form. Her laugh stopped on her lips, though, when she heard an ethereal voice.

"What do you want, my LightBearer?"

She stared at the form. The voice was coming from it, although she could tell the fire form was just a shell. The eyes of the camel were empty. "I want to know what happens if I win this battle."

"You will gain the elemental powers of the ShadowWalker. You will be the most powerful being the world, and will start a reign of Light upon the world."

"Oh. Goodness. And if he wins?"

"He will gain your elemental powers and be the most powerful being in the world. He will start a reign of Darkness upon the world."

"Oh dear. So if I lose, that's it? The world is plunged into Darkness forever?"

"Not forever. The battle does not end with you two."

"What do You mean?"

"That is not for you to know."

Unsatisfied, she let this go. "Why did You do this? Pick humans to fight for You?"

"We have learned that fighting each other directly only results in devastation for all. Our first effort to resolve the fight without direct confrontation has proved inconclusive. We have taken a different approach, and Chosen two Avatars to fight for us."

"First effort? What first effort?"

"That is not for you to know."

"Alright. Well, why me? Why pick me of all the people in the world?"

"Your soul had the qualities I desired. The life you were destined for had the qualities I desired."

"And no one else would have served you as well?"

"Others would have. But I Chose you."

"So it was just luck?" she asked, barely believing this. She had always been taught the gods knew the future, at least to some degree.

"Luck is but an illusion. I favored your soul and your life. My choice is part of the battle. But it is not for you to know too much. Just know this – you were Chosen because I thought you could win for me."

"Why was he picked? The poor young man who's the ShadowWalker?"

"It is not for me to know the will of the Dark One."

"Do-do I have to kill him?"

"You must defeat him. How you do that is for you to decide."

"That's good to know. I don't want to kill anyone." Then tears started to sting at her eyes as she remembered the darkling. "God, what are the darklings and iridescents?"

"Darklings are creatures solely of Darkness. Iridescents are creatures solely of Light. They are neither human nor demian."

"Do they have souls?"

"Yes, and no."

"Oh." Her voice started to tremble. "Is it wrong to kill them?"

"Right and wrong are human constructs. In the end, there is only Light and Darkness."

"Then is it evil to kill them?"

"Good and evil are human constructs. In the end, there is only Light and Darkness."

She was starting to get a bit frustrated. The god was answering, but she didn't understand the answers. She was reminded of her conversation with the iridescent, and decided to switch her line of questions. "Did You tell my Order of Light to send me here?"

"No, I did not."

"Then why did they do that?" she cried.

"That is not for me to answer."

"What? Why not? They're supposed to follow Your instructions."

"And when I give them no instructions, they do what they will. I am not involved in every decision of the Order. Most choices must be made without divine intervention."

"Then-then You don't advise them about the government?"

"They use my gifts to find their own wisdom. I have answered enough of your questions for now. Do well, my LightBearer, and do not lose hope. This will turn out as it is meant to." With that, the form in the fire faded, and it returned to a cooler red-yellow color.

Suddenly she was very tired and quite confused. She put the cushion back on the couch, then collapsed on it, fast asleep.

She awoke some time later to the sound of a knock on her door and a man's voice calling her name. Rubbing her tired eyes, she opened the door and found not Aidan, as she expected, but Davin standing there with a bowl of stew.

"Can I come in?"

She nodded and waved him inside, still feeling groggy.

"Jomei said you weren't feeling well. When you didn't show up for dinner, I thought I'd bring you some."

"Thank you." She sat down and started to eat.

He looked a little apprehensive. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm just not feeling well, and I'm quite tired."

"I hope you feel better soon."

She sighed. "We shall see."

He gave her a curious look, and started to fidget.

"Come on. You have something to tell me, so tell me," she said, with a reassuring and amused smile.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For getting so mad at you a few weeks ago. I was angry, but not at you. I shouldn't have taken that anger out on you. I don't quite understand why you want acceptance of the community so badly, but I should have respected your decision and not gotten angry. I said some things I shouldn't have said. You didn't deserve that. I really was a jackass, and I deserved to get shoved out of your house."

"I'm glad you apologized. You're forgiven."

"Just like that?"

She nodded.

"Well, that's really decent of you."

"Thanks. When I finish dinner, would you like to play chess or something?"

"I guess I could stand getting beaten again. And then maybe you could sing?"

"Oh, not in front of the group," she replied quickly. "It'd be much too embarrassing. I wouldn't do it for you, except you already heard me."

"Alright. Just for me then," he responded, with a slightly satisfied expression.

She gave him a puzzled look.

Seeing this, he suddenly became sheepish. "Well, do you want to play here? If you do, I need to go fetch a board," he said nervously.

"Yes, bring a board here. Then I don't have go outside in the cold." Now she was amused as well.

He stood up quickly. "You're right. If you're sick, you don't need to be outside. I'll be right back."

"Some time I must ask him what he wants from me," she thought, eating her dinner. "I just don't understand this culture well enough." When he returned, she did not voice these thoughts. Instead she spent most of the evening trouncing him in chess, and then sang one long, but sad, song, and sent him away. Even though she had spent a lot of time asleep, she was tired, and the song brought back some of her confused emotions regarding the ShadowWalker.

Donnan returned to his apartment. He still had a sick feeling in his stomach. He quietly stashed his books and new scrying dish in the crate with his old books. He knew Alain wouldn't be able to read the titles and so wouldn't worry about the subject matter, but his brother would realize the books were both new and very expensive, and that would raise uncomfortable questions. He had already canceled fighting practice for the day, and had no tutoring session, so he pulled out the Book of Lunae and sat down to read for a while. He wanted to talk to Blake, but knew he'd be busy with his duties until dinner time.

He became so engrossed in the book he lost track of time.

"What're you readin'?" came Alain's voice.

He jumped, startled. He snapped the book shut. "Nothin' important." He quickly stuffed it in the crate.

The older man yawned, too groggy to notice the new book smell or the black cover. "You makin' dinner tonight, or do I have to find my own?"

"I'll cook," he replied, and realized he was quite hungry, having missed lunch.

"What's wrong?" Alain asked.

"What makes you think anythin's wrong?"

"You're all jumpy and snappin' for one. You look like you saw a ghost or somethin'. What happened to shake you up so bad?"

He didn't reply.

"You're havin' doubts again," commented Alain shrewdly.

"What?"

"Whatever you've been up to the last few weeks, somethin' happened and now you're havin' doubts about whether you're doin' the right thing."

He gave his brother a startled look. "How in blazes does he know these things?" he thought, but again did not reply.

"Hey, fair enough. It's your life. But don't ignore what your gut says. And when you want to let me know what you've been doin', I'm ready to listen."

This struck him as rather condescending, which annoyed him. "What does he know?" he thought bitterly. "Being ready to listen doesn't mean he's ready to deal with what I could say."

They finished their meal in silence, and Donnan cleaned up.

"You goin' out to tonight?" Alain asked.

"Yeah. I'm goin' to meet with Blake."

The older man didn't quite suppress a sigh. "I know Blake's your best friend and all, but I wish you'd talk to me instead of him. Or at least both of us."

"It's my life," he snapped.

"Yeah, I know. But you're my brother. I worry about you."

"I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know. I know that. Doesn't stop me from worryin' though."

"Don't you have some friends to meet or somethin'?" he asked rudely.

Alain could take a hint. "Yeah, sure." He went into the bedroom and donned his armor.

Donnan savagely scrubbed down the dirty dishes.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I've been houndin' you lately about what you're doin'. I just don't like the Order. Maybe that's narrow-minded of me. You just do what you think's best, alright? And I'll try to be more understandin'."

"Ah, damn it," he thought, his anger draining away at the concern evident in Alain's voice.

"Just take care of yourself. Remember, you're my brother, and I'll stand by you no matter what. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he was gone.

"Gods, why does he have to be so damn noble?" he thought irritably, although he was grateful for his brother's loyalty. He finished washing the dishes and dumped out the water. He fetched his new scrying dish, which turned out to be a dull black, shallow bowl, and the Book of Lunae. He flipped through a few pages, read a bit, set the bowl on the floor, then filled the bowl with water. He consulted the book again, knelt down, and started to pray. "'Dark One, your servant calls you,'" he read aloud. "Servant? I hate that." He sighed and continued to read. "'I am seeking answers. I cannot find them in the Light, so I seek them in the Darkness. Please hear my prayer. Please answer my questions, for I have no place else to turn.'"

The water in the bowl suddenly started to move, froze over, and took the form of a winged lizard-like creature.

"What do you want, my ShadowWalker?" the form asked, its voice ethereal and almost a hiss.

He stared. Wyverns were extremely rare and it took him a moment to even figure out what it was. He realized immediately that the eyes of the ice creature were empty, although he recognized the voice of the god. "What happens if I win?"

"You will gain the elemental powers of the LightBearer. You will be the most powerful being the world, and will start a reign of Darkness upon the world."

"Reign of Darkness?" he repeated, a slow, cold, horror coming over him. "I don't want that."

"It matters not what you want. You were Chosen to fight for me, and you will do that," came the voice of the god, with some force behind it.

He winced. "But-but I don't want Darkness to rule the world forever."

"It matters not what you want." This time the voice hurt in his mind. "Your victory is not forever. The battle does not end with you two."

"It's not? Then what's point?" he demanded, starting to getting angry.

"You do not need to know. This is a matter between the gods. You will not defy me, mortal."

He clapped his hand over his ears, but that didn't help. "Oh, god, I was afraid of this. I knew it was bad when the god saved my life. I knew It was going to ask for something like this as repayment," he thought. "Why did you pick me? I'm nobody. Why not pick a priest or someone?"

"Your soul had the qualities I desired. The life you were destined for had the qualities I desired."

"And you couldn't have picked any one else?"

"I could have, but I Chose you."

"So it was just bad luck?"

"Luck is but an illusion. I favored your soul and your life. My choice is part of the battle. But it is not for you to know too much. Just know this – you were Chosen because I thought you could win for me."

"Well, at least I know the god could have picked someone else," he thought, not reassured. "Do I have to kill the LightBearer?"

"You are expected to win. How you do that is for you to decide. However, killing the LightBearer would result in a victory."

"But I don't want to kill her."

"It matters not what you want. You will do what you must to win."

The pain would have driven him to his knees if he wasn't already kneeling. Tears stung his eyes. "Oh god, oh god," he thought.

"You belong to me, mortal. You are my Avatar. You belong to the Darkness. You will fight for me. You will do what you must to win for me." With that, the ice shattered and the presence of the god left the room.

Donnan fell backwards, breathing heavily and shivering. He was tired and frightened, but he dared not sleep. When he calmed down, he replaced the dish and the bowl, the made his way through the dark and chilly streets to the Temple of Night. It didn't take him long to find Blake.

"Hey, Donnan..." he started cheerfully, then his voice faded. "Gods. What happened?"

"We need to talk. Not here."

"A pub?"

"No. Follow me."

Puzzled and worried, Blake did as he was told. Donnan lead him back to his own apartment, but took a more winding route than usual.

"Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to come here?" the acolyte asked. "And why didn't we take the direct route?"

Donnan fetched some water and put on a kettle. He waited until the tea was brewed before he sat down.

"You're awful twitchy. What's wrong?" Blake asked, cleaning his glasses.

"I went to Mulago today."

"Good. I was wondering when Dwyer was goin' to send you."

"What I'm about to tell you, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone else. Not Dwyer. Not anyone. I don't care if he orders you to. You got that?"

"Sure. Sure. I can keep a secret."

"Blake, promise me," he said insistently.

"Alright. I promise I won't tell anyone what you're about to tell me," he replied.

"Good. Good. Alright. Like I said, I went to Mulago today. I picked up all the stuff I need for learnin' magic. Got a scryin' dish and everythin'."

"Why in the world can't I tell anyone that?"

"You can tell 'em that part. Not this part." He lowered his voice. "Before all that happened, I met the LightBearer."

"What?" he yelped, as though he'd been stuck with a pin.

"Shut up," Donnan snapped.

"Sorry. Sorry." He lowered his voice. "You met the LightBearer? How did you know it was him?"

"Her."

"Her? He's a woman?" Blake asked in disbelief. "You'd best start at the beginnin'."

"There's not much to tell. I came out in a side street and walked to the Public Square, just like Dwyer told me to. Then I felt this flash of heat. I looked around, tryin' to figure out what it was, and saw this woman. And she was lookin' at me. That's when I knew who she was. We sort of circled around each other, real cautious. Then we stopped, facin' each other. We probably could have touched."

"You just walked up to the LightBearer? Just like that? Donnan, she could have killed you."

"I doubt it. She didn't look like a warrior to me. I don't think she even had a weapon. She's my age, Blake. At least, I think she is. I felt sorry for her."

"Oh, no."

"Yeah, I did. Here's this poor woman, far from home, and she meets the person she's probably been told she's got to fight and kill. How awful is that?"

His brow furrowed. "What makes you think she was far from home?"

"She looks it. She's got black hair and brown skin and deep, dark brown eyes. She's not from around here, that's for damn sure. She was kind of pretty, too."

"Oh, darkness," Blake muttered.

"She told me she didn't want to kill anyone, and I think meant it. She looked scared. Then we sort of backed off, and she apologized to me. She said she was sorry for what had to happen. Gods. And I'm expected to kill her?"

"Well, just because she didn't kill you there doesn't mean she won't."

"She fights for the Light. I don't think she's just goin' to kill me in cold blood."

The acolyte cleaned his glasses again. "This is bad. You can't ever feel sorry for the enemy. If you feel sorry for her, how are you goin' to defeat her?"

"I don't know that I want to. Gods. Do you know what happens if I do win?" he snapped.

"Uh, no. Do you?"

"Yeah. I get her powers, and I get to lead the world into Darkness. Isn't that great? That's exactly what I want out of my life. And that's exactly what I was afraid of when this whole mess started," he answered bitterly, slumping back in his chair.

"How do you know that?"

"I asked the god. How else?"

Blake's dark eyes grew wide. "You asked the god? And got an answer?"

"Oh, yeah, I got answers. Nothin' I wanted to hear."

"Did you tell the Dark One you don't want to be the Avatar?"

"Yeah. It didn't like that, and made my head hurt. There's no help for it. I'm the Avatar, and that's how it is."

"My friend, you are in a world of trouble."

"Thanks, Blake. Like I didn't know that."

The acolyte took a thoughtful sip of tea. "Do you think it's wise to defy the god?"

"What do you mean?"

"By not fightin' for It. The god has great powers. Terrible powers. No cleric has ever refused It's mandates. At least not as far as I know."

"Honestly, I don't think I can defy It. It's a god, and I'm just a human," he sighed.

"So you're stickin' to your plan?"

"For now. I draw the line at killin' her though. I don't have the guts. I just don't."

"Well, I can't say I blame you for that. Dwyer wouldn't like it though."

"And that's why you're not tellin' him. I'm not a murderer, dammit. I'm not goin' to become one either, no matter what god says." Then he looked around fearfully, as though expecting to be hit by lightning for his defiance.

"Brave words. Much braver than I am."

"Yeah, well, it's probably just words. It told me if I won, I'd 'start a reign of Darkness upon the world.' I don't want that. Do you want that?"

He sighed. "No. I just want a little power for myself. I don't see how your victory could plunge the world into Darkness. I mean, does it extinguish the Light or somethin'? It doesn't make any sense."

"Then you ask the god. I'm not doin' that again."

"Hey, the god answers you. That's more than I could say for even high-ranking clerics."

"Yeah, It answers me. I don't like half the answers, and I don't understand the other half," he replied irritably. He ran his hands through his hair. "Gods, Blake. What's goin' to happen to me? This power is gettin' stronger. I can feel it growin' every day. I don't know what it means, but this can't be good for me."

"I don't know either. I can't imagine what you're goin' through."

They sat in silence for a while.

Blake spoke up first. "I know it's been a long day, but I kind of wish we knew what she was doing in Mulago. And why did she show up the same day you did?"

Donnan shrugged. "How should I know? I didn't ask, and I don't think she would've told me." Then he remembered the darkling. "Darkling," he called.

A humanoid shaped disengaged from the shadows.

Blake jumped up, surprised, and moved away from the creature.

"Where did the LightBearer go, after I told you to follow her?"

"We know not."

"Why not? Didn't you follow her?"

"The one that was sent to follow the LightBearer was destroyed," it hissed, its odd echoing voice dripping with venom.

"Destroyed?" he repeated, surprised. "I didn't know you could be killed."

"Not killed. Destroyed."

"How did it happen?"

"She touched the one with the Light. The terrible, burning Light. We hate light, all light. But we cannot survive the touch of the Light that lives in the soul."

"But how did she know you were there?"

"We know not, Master."

"If I send you to find her again, would you?"

"We must obey. But we hate and fear light. We ask that you not order us to face the harsh light again."

"I'll remember that. You can go now," he replied, disturbed.

"Thank you, Master," it hissed, bowing, and then vanished.

"Gods, Donnan, when did you learn the Dark language?"

"What?"

"You were speakin' the Dark language. So was that creature. When did you learn that?"

"I don't know. I guess it comes with the power."

"And you can just call the darklings? Just like that?"

"Sure. Can't you guys?"

"Gods, no," Blake answered emphatically. "First of all, it's somethin' we just don't do often. Darklings are dangerous creatures. As it said, they hate light. They even hate moonlight and starlight. It takes a complicated spell to summon them, and even then you have to trap it in light, and make sure you define your terms carefully. They've been known to turn on those that summon them."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Now you do. So you did send a darkling after her?"

"Well, yeah, I was curious. I didn't expect her to notice it, much less destroy it."

"Well, if she destroyed it just like that, imagine what she could have done to you."

"Oh, please. I saw her. She's not a killer. She probably noticed the darkling and reacted without thinkin' 'cause she was afraid of it. Gods, those things scare me."

"Even though you call them with so little effort and thought," Blake replied, his voice slightly scolding. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "But she did destroy that thing. She was takin' a life. Coldly. Callously."

"Oh, come on. Those things aren't human. I'm not sure they're alive."

"How do you know that?"

"I'll ask," he snapped. "I know what I saw in that woman's eyes. She's not a killer. At least not yet," he thought. He spoke again to the shadows. "Darkling. Answer a few questions for me."

One stepped forth. "Yes, Master?"

Blake jumped again and started to clean his glasses.

"Are you human?" Donnan asked.

"Not anymore."

"Not anymore?" Blake repeated. "What does it mean by that?"

The creature looked over at the acolyte, then back to Donnan.

"Well, what do you mean you're not human anymore?" he asked.

"We once were. We are not now."

"How did that happen?"

"We fell into Darkness," it replied, its voice now full of sorrow and pain.

"Are you still alive?"

"We exist."

"That's enough, Donnan. Send it away, please."

He dismissed the darkling. "See, it's not human."

"No, definitely not, and that disturbs me. Alright, I'll admit, if I saw one of those creatures followin' me, my first instinct would be to destroy it. I can't do that, of course, but she could. But if she's supposed to win, you're goin' to have to fight her someday. I don't know that you can win if she's still alive."

"Dammit, Blake, what do you want from me? You want me to be a murderer?"

"Of course not. I don't want you to kill anyone. I really don't. But you are my best friend. I don't want you to get killed either. I don't think Alain wants to see you get killed. I mean, if it's self-defense, I'm sure he'd understand, right?" he answered, his tone pleading.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Gods, I don't know. I thought I was gettin' things worked out. Figured I wouldn't meet the LightBearer for months. I thought it would be a man, you know? A great, big, warrior type with a white horse, and shining armor, and a flaming sword. That sort of thing. Instead I meet a woman who's as young and lost and scared as I am. And I'm supposed to kill her. What kind of monster am I goin' to be when this is all over?"

There was another long pause, as Donnan fought back tears, and Blake slowly cleaned his glasses.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I'm really sorry. But there's nothin' I can do. There's nothin' anyone can do. You can't give the power back. You can't go back on your plans. There's no help for it."

"That's not reassurin'," he replied dryly.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I can be reassuring, so I'm at least being truthful. That's the situation as I see it. And as cold as this is, you've just got to deal with it. It's not going to get any better, or go away."

"No help for it," Donnan sighed. "You're right. I'm not goin' back on anythin'. Just wishful thinkin', I suppose. Maybe I can figure out somethin' else to do about the LightBearer in a few months, right?"

"Maybe," he agreed doubtfully.

"Hey, I've got to have some hope."

"It's a foolish hope."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed again. "Come on. Let's go out and play games or somethin'. I'd like some company for a while."

They left the apartment and went down to the Black Goblet tavern for some games. Donnan felt better at the end of the night, and the sick feeling was gone from his stomach, but his dreams were dark and disturbed.

The solstice approached fast. Winter set in, and there was now a layer of least six inches of snow on the ground in Tallis Marrom. Although intellectually Eliora knew it was cold, she didn't really feel cold, but didn't mention it to anyone and stayed bundled up. Her language lessons all but disappeared as she and Jomei worked on magic and on planning. He could give her some aid with the magic, depending on what he'd been accorded that day by his god, and she made what they thought was good progress. She could and did often cast circles of protection on her own cottage, the priest's cottage, and the city, although only Hanae mentioned it to her, and she was sworn to secrecy. She was working on scrying, but found it required discipline as well as power. Jomei also brought her what information the Council had, brought out maps of the area, and discussed ideas. At night she studied history and politics, and with her training, she was making good progress in her understanding of political situation of the north lands.

She still spent her afternoons learning to fight. It was cold enough the practices had been moved into the gym. With her intense focus, hours every day in practice, her high strength, and what turned out to be a hidden aptitude for swordplay, she was making very good progress. She had been allowed a real sword, and the practices were much rougher. She had nicks and cuts on her hands, and often got bruised and banged up. But now she was good enough to beat all of her sparring partners in most of the matches, and could hold her own with two opponents.

Her social life stayed much the same. Most of the young men seemed to regard her as one of their own, which she felt kept them from being more resentful than they already were when she started to defeat them on a regular basis. However, she had learned some of their northern games, so her defeats seemed to defuse some of the tension. It was an odd situation for her. They treated her as a man, but she could guess some were interested in her as a woman, but didn't say anything in order to keep the peace. As before, Davin was the exception. He treated her not as one of the men, but on his own terms. They met often on the unused watchtower, and spoke rarely, and usually of mundane things. Once he actually offered to spar with her, and he was very surprised when she won. Although they still didn't talk much, she felt he was somehow disappointed in her for seeming to give in to the community's expectation of her. She didn't mention anything, but wondered how he'd react when she finally faced down the Council.

As the days sped by, she and Jomei discussed how best to approach the Council, what to say, and when to say it.

The solstice arrived, cold and clear. As Eliora dressed, she noticed something odd about her eyes. They were white, from edge to edge.

"What in the world?" she thought, blinking furiously. Her eyes watered, but they would not change color.

She spent breakfast looking down at her food, and sat alone to avoid being with anyone else in case they noticed her eyes. Then she went to Jomei's cottage.

"Are you ready?" he asked immediately. Then he took a step backwards. "What happened to your eyes?"

"I don't know. I think it's because it's the solstice."

"But it's winter."

"It's the summer solstice where I come from."

"Right, right. Now, are you sure you can do this?" he asked earnestly.

"No. But give me the sword anyway. I want to do this early because I might need to sleep after I'm done."

He sighed, then grabbed a worn scabbard, which had been laying on the desk. He unsheathed the weapon, revealing a battered longsword. The edge was blunted and the steel a dull, slightly stained color, and it appeared to have gone a long time without any use. "This was my father's. I confess, I never really learned to use it. May it serve you well." He re-sheathed the sword and set it back down.

They quickly moved the furniture to the edge of the room, leaving as clear a space as possible in front of the fire place.

She took the sword and knelt down in front of the fire.

Jomei moved as far away as he could. "I pray this goes well."

"You and me both," she thought. She unsheathed the sword, and started to concentrate, reaching out with her elemental magic. She ran her fingers over the weapon, keenly aware of every notch, every rough patch, every damaged spot.

As the priest watched, she began to glow slightly with an odd light, not exactly arcane, and not exactly divine.

She closed her eyes, and her awareness expanded as she considered the heat and ore that had gone into making the sword. She thought of making it a sword fit for a mighty warrior, a Champion of Light. She held it lightly in her hands, willing magic to flow into the weapon. She felt the notches fill in, the rough spots smooth out, the damaged parts mend. She thought of strengthening the blade, making it unbreakable, and of making the edge so sharp it could cut through even the toughest armor.

Fire flickered up and down the sword. Jomei looked alarmed, but said nothing, as Eliora wasn't crying out in pain.

Then she thought of fighting Darkness, and blessed the weapon, so that the very sight of it would make Dark creatures cringe with fear. She thought of making the sword into the strongest weapon possible, immune to the effects of time, weather, sorcery, divine magic, and fire. How long she poured magic into the sword, she did not know. When she was finished, she stood up and turned to face Jomei.

He was staring at her with a mixture of admiration and horror on his face.

She held the sword out for him to examine. The steel was now white as pure sunlight, but stronger than it used to be, now strong as bedrock. The hilt had changed to plain gold, with no gems or decorations. There was a faint corona of fire around the blade. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice carrying a strange echo to it, like the rumble of the ground.

"It-it's magnificent," he managed to get out, his voice squeaking slightly.

"Yes. I think this will satisfy my needs." Then she closed her eyes again, and sent the weapon to the same place where the Armor was stored in the Light Realm.

"Where did it go?" he asked, alarmed.

"It's with the Armor, where it will remain until I call it. I must have connected it to the Light Realm somehow." The odd glow was now fading, and she started to feel very tired. "I think I need a nap. Could you wake me for lunch?" she asked, yawning.

The priest nodded with relief. Her voice had gone back to normal. "We'll move the furniture back when you wake up."

She laid down on the couch and passed right out.

The sound of the priest calling her name woke her up some time later.

"I brought you lunch," he said.

"Thanks," she replied, and started to eat.

"I'm going to summon the Council. They'll send someone for you when they're ready." He looked nervous.

"It'll be fine, Jomei. Things will work out alright."

"I hope so, Eliora, I hope so."

"Then why do you look frightened?"

He fidgeted. "Well, you scared me when you were enchanting the sword. You were glowing. Did you know that?"

She shook her head.

"There was fire running up and down the sword, and you didn't even notice. And your voice sounded so odd when you first spoke. I've been a priest since I was a young man, over twenty long years. I've seen great things come from the Light, but I didn't realize until I saw you just how frightening the Light could be."

"I'm sorry," she replied, suddenly alarmed. "Maybe I shouldn't do this after all."

"No, no. I think this may work out better. They assume you are weak, Eliora. You are not. Perhaps it will do them some good to see that the Light is not something to be pushed around or taken for granted. They need to be reminded that you are the Avatar of a god, and the power of a god is indeed a wonderful and terrible thing to behold."

"I never thought of it like that," she stuttered. "And that's good?"

"It's not bad. I'll go to the Council now. They won't be pleased, so this may take some time, especially to convince them to meet you in the gym."

"That's fine. I'll just try not to fall asleep again."

He smiled nervously and left her alone.

She ate her food, feeling oddly calm. "I'm glad I don't feel scared, considering what I'm about to do is going to upset the social order of this place. And judging from Jomei's reaction, some of their ideas about what it means to be an Avatar of Light." She didn't dwell to much on those thoughts to avoid becoming anxious. Instead she put the furniture back and read, waiting for the knock on the door.

After about an hour, it came. She closed the book, put it back on its shelf, and opened the door.

"The Council wants to see you... Gods, what's wrong with your eyes?" Aidan exclaimed.

"It's the solstice, and I expected they would."

"It's winter, and why? Have you done anything wrong?"

"It's summer where I come from, and no, I haven't. Not yet."

"What are you talking about? Why are you meeting them in the gym of all places? Eliora, what's in your head?"

"You'll find out soon enough," she replied, her voice grim.

Something about her tone discouraged him from asking further questions. "Alright, but you shouldn't make the Council mad at you. I still don't think they've forgiven you from running off to fight that fire."

"They'll like me less after this," she thought, but said nothing.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he remarked, leaving her at the gym door.

"Me too," she thought, and gathered her courage. She knocked politely.

"Enter," called Hialmar.

She took a deep breath, and walked into the building.

The seven members were present, standing in the middle of the room with their arms crossed and looking annoyed, except for Jomei, who was looking nervous.

"What do you want?" Hialmar asked. "And why did you want to meet here?"

She stared at each of them, in turn, looking at their souls. Their souls were as she expected, mostly Light, but barely. She stopped her soul-search, but her eyes stayed white from edge to edge.

Now the others looked nervous, and she could hear them whispering about her eyes. She had rehearsed what she was going to say, and now she started her speech. "Gentlemen, I apologize for interrupting you, but I must speak with you on an urgent matter."

"About what?" he snapped.

His tone did not faze her. "Well, I'm afraid what I have to say will take some time, so I ask for your patience."

There was some grumbling, but no one moved.

"I've been a guest in your city for three months now. I understand that you had little advanced notice of the existence of the Avatars, and certainly had no thought that one would be dropped on your doorstep." Her voice was picking up the odd echo that the priest had noticed earlier. "You've been kind to me, in your way. You've taken me in, and in not so many words, you've made your expectations of the LightBearer clear to me. You've also made it clear that I do not meet your expectations."

The men were still grumbling and looking at her with impatience.

"What expectations do you think we have?" Hialmar asked curtly.

"You expected a man of the North, a valiant warrior who will face the ShadowWalker, riding a noble steed, wielding a flaming sword, and wearing the armor of god. You expected a great soldier who will take command of the armies of Light and lead them into righteous battle against the forces of Darkness. Am I so far off?"

The men continued to grumble.

"Well? I am right, or am I wrong?" she pressed.

Hialmar nodded slightly. "I wouldn't put it like that, but yes, that's what we expected."

"And what you got was a Champion who was none of these things. There are some expectations of yours I cannot meet. I'm always going to be a woman from the South. But now I can speak your language. I have been studying magic every single day for almost a month."

"You what?" Hialmar demanded.

"And I have learned to fight," she continued, ignoring his interruption. "I have become a warrior."

Some of the men snorted derisively. "You don't become a warrior in three months, girl," said one.

"Be quiet!" Hialmar commanded. "What do you mean you've been studying magic?"

"I went to Mulago about a month ago and acquired the books I need."

"You left this place without permission?"

"I asked permission weeks ago. When it didn't seem to be forthcoming, I took matters into my own hands," she answered mildly, but her jaw was set. "I ask your forgiveness for my impatience, but I did want to do my best to meet your expectations."

"That was irresponsible and reckless. You should have waited until we finished our plans. We're very disappointed. We thought you were going to submit to our authority, like every other member of this community."

The others seemed to echo his anger.

She felt her temper flare as she realized they were trying to take advantage of what they knew of her background to shame her into submission. She calmed herself, and continued her well-rehearsed words. "I have tried. Except to go acquire what I need to learn magic, I haven't left the city. I don't even get around the city much. What time I don't spend studying I spend in the work-out area. I have tried my very best to give you what you wanted."

They talked in low voice for several minutes. Jomei seemed mostly quiet, although she could tell the Council seemed a bit angry with him.

Finally Hialmar turned to her again. "I suppose we did wait a little too long to send you to Mulago, or at least send someone there to get what you need to study magic. You do need to be trained, and time shouldn't be lost. So we've decided to forgive you for being impatient with us."

"That's very kind of you."

"However, we are disappointed you ran off on your own again. You don't know this area. You need a guide, or some sort of protection. Again, we can't keep you here, but only try press upon you the importance of doing as we tell you."

"So you have nothing to say regarding my progress fighting or learning magic?" she asked, not surprised.

"We're glad you're working so hard, but you've still got a long way to go to meet our expectations."

"And if I do? What do I get for it?"

"What do you mean, what do you get?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"If I fulfill your expectations of the LightBearer, will you start to include me in your plans to combat the Darkness? Will you give me information? Ask me advice? Listen to my ideas? Start to plan attacks? Include me in efforts to recruit allies? Will you allow me to meet your final expectation of being a great leader?"

The men of the Council looked sort of amused, and talked amongst themselves again for a few minutes. She heard some snickering, but the priest looked deadly serious, and seemed to be pleading her case.

Hialmar turned to her and with a condescending look answered, "I'm afraid that just won't happen. We know the area a lot better than you do, so we'll be doing most of the planning. But when we feel you're ready, we'll certainly send you out on missions. Small things, of course, like running messages. And if we can get an army ready, of course you'll be allowed to join. But you must learn to listen and obey your superiors."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. The conversation was going as she expected, and now it was time for the bluff. "No, I'm afraid that just won't do," she replied.

"What?" he blurted, nonplussed.

The odd effect in her voice was now pronounced, like she had an echo of her own voice, only an octave deeper. "I've done all I can to meet your expectations. I've learned to speak your language. I'm learning magic. I'm learning to fight. I've got the noble steed, the gold mare out in the stables." In a flash, she donned the Armor of Obsidian, which had a flowing white cape. The cape wasn't practical, but it was impressive. "I have the armor of god." She held out her hand, and called her weapon. It appeared, the fiery corona reflecting in the bands of gold in her armor, turning them reddish.

The men gasped in surprise, and some even took a few steps back.

"And now I have the flaming sword," she finished, with a grim smile. "After all I have done to be the kind of Champion you had expected, you deny me the opportunity to prove I'm worthy after all? Not only will you not allow me to become a leader, but you expect me to sit down, shut up, and take orders. Oh, no, gentlemen, that will not do at all."

All except Jomei just stared for a few moments. She seemed to have grown taller, her expression was hard, her voice was rumbling with the thunder of a groundquake, and she was glowing slightly with an inner light.

"Shall I prove my prowess to you?" she continued after a pause. She pointed the sword at each of them in turn. "I will fight you, every one of you, or all of you at once. I can fight you with magic from a distance. You couldn't even get near me, if I so desired. Or perhaps I'll even the odds a bit, and engage any one of you in close combat. You can't hurt me with your mortal weapons. Or perhaps I'll drop the Armor, to make your chances even better. My sword will rend your weapons as though they were made of paper. Or perhaps I'll send away my sword, and take up an ordinary blade against you, but I'll still have an advantage of physical strength. Do you want to fight me?" she demanded.

Only Hialmar seemed to be making an effort to say something, but no sound came out.

She held the sword in front of her. "That's what I thought. I am not weak. I'm not helpless, I'm not stupid, I'm not to be coddled and condescended to. I'm the Champion of Light, Avatar of a god. I am the LightBearer."

Fear was evident in all their faces. Even Jomei, who had caught a glimpse earlier that day of her power, still felt his heart beat faster. The inner glow was not exactly brighter, but it was more intense, like sunlight, and it hurt their eyes to look at her. There was no doubt that she was indeed a vessel of divine power, and the men of the Council could only stand there and stare, completely awestruck.

She looked into their eyes, and every one of them backed down. Silence descended for several moments.

Finally Hialmar stepped forward. "Forgive us, my Lady," he started, with a quaver of fear in his voice. "We have sorely underestimated you and your power. The god would not have Chosen you without reason. We were too old and stubborn and set in our ways to see that you are indeed worthy to be our Champion."

To her amazement, although she hid it well, he knelt down to her. One by one, the rest of the men followed, and bowed their heads. She sent the sword away, but kept the Armor on. "You are forgiven," she replied, her voice still thundering. "Will you now include me in your Council?" She reached her hand down to Hialmar.

"Of course, my Lady," he answered, looking up. Trembling slightly, he took her hand.

She pulled him up easily and smiled in a reassuring fashion. "Good. Since you're all gathered together, why don't we go to wherever you hold your meetings, and you get me caught up on the situation?"

The others stood up, looking a little lost.

"Yes, we'll do that. There's a lot to tell. Have you studied anything about the politics of this part of the world?" Hialmar asked.

"Yes, I have, as well as history." Her voice was returning to normal, and the light was fading.

"Good, good, that'll make things easier. We generally meet in my cottage. But don't you normally have fighting practice in the afternoons?"

"I'm sure Aidan will understand." They started to walk toward the door. With a thought, she sent the Armor away, and by the time they reached the door, her appearance was nearly normal, except for her eyes. She was pleased her bluff had worked so well.

When the doors opened, there were several young men standing around, trying to look like they were just taking a break from practicing. No one was fooled. It was clear they had been eavesdropping, and most were just staring as Eliora emerged with the Council.

Hialmar shook his head slightly, but didn't say a word to them as they went to his cottage. His cottage was larger than most of them because he had an extra room that seemed to be the Council's standard meeting room. It was covered in maps and letters. Someone fetched an extra chair, and the Council talked to her until dinner time.

"Well, that's the situation. We still don't know where the ShadowWalker is hiding, or what he's up to. We're pretty sure he's not in Trevelan, because all the mages would make it difficult for him to gain any sort of power without resistance. So we guess he's somewhere in the city-states, trying to gather political power and people to fight, or he's in the Charred Lands, trying to gather an army. That leaves a lot of territory," Hialmar finished with a sigh.

Jomei winced at the title, but said nothing.

"We'll be meeting again in two days. That should give you plenty of time to digest this information."

"Digest?" she thought, momentarily confused. Some idioms didn't quite translate correctly, but after a second, she figured out what he meant.

"Alright, gentlemen. Er, people," he corrected himself. "It's been a long day, even if it was short on daylight. I don't know what your custom is, my Lady, but the day after the winter solstice is the first day of the new year. We generally have a feast to celebrate new year's eve and new year's day."

"Yes, we have something similar. We celebrate the lengthening of the days, the return of sunlight, but we don't normally have a feast."

"Well, party might be a better term," Jomei offered. "There tends to be a lot of ale passed around, and many games played. The new year's day feast is a bit more sedate."

"Whatever you want to call it, we're running a little late," said another man.

"Then this Council meeting is dismissed. Have your messages ready for our Lady to carry," he ordered.

The men nodded, and everyone filtered out.

It was fully night outside when the meeting adjourned. The demian lanterns bathed the area in a soft twilight, and music came floating down from the treetops.

"The demians celebrate as well," Jomei said, in response to her unasked question.

"'Surround yourself with music, with fire, with friends. Keep the light close on the cold solstice, for this moonless, longest night of the year is when the creatures of Darkness go abroad, and when they are strongest,'" she quoted, translating from the Light language.

"You gave her the Book of Sol to read? Of course," remarked Hialmar to Jomei.

He nodded.

"Knowledge is power," she replied.

"Sounds like something a damned mage would say," he muttered.

"In this case, those damned mages are quite right."

He looked surprised that she'd heard him.

Before they even opened the doors of the dining hall, they heard a din of noise inside. But when she entered, the room went dead quiet, and everyone, nearly eighty people, were staring at her.

She said nothing, only noted that there were women present, and that they were all at least fifteen years older than she was.

After a moment, Hialmar spoke up. "I thought this was a celebration. Come on, people, celebrate," he ordered, but he was smiling.

This broke the spell, and the crowd went back to talking.

The kitchen door was wide open, and she followed the Council as they went back there and helped themselves.

"You'll sit with us at the head table," Jomei said quietly. "I think it'll be easier on you."

"Thank you," she replied gratefully.

It didn't take her long to eat, but she had trouble talking to anyone. When the men of the Council were finished, they joined their wives and friends for games and drinks. She approached the young men, who looked at her fearfully.

"May I join you?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Sure," Aidan replied, but he didn't seem eager.

She sat down anyway. "How many of you were eavesdropping?" she asked bluntly.

Aidan and about a dozen others answered her, including Davin, who was giving her a very odd look.

"That's what I thought. What did you hear?"

"The gym has thick walls," Aidan replied. "We didn't really hear that much. We heard them talk, and we heard you talk, and you were talking really weird. Your voice went deep and rumbling or something. And whatever you said, or did, made the Council ask you to join them. Damn." He took a long drink of ale. "Davin was the only one of us smart enough to fetch a ladder to look in a window, but he hasn't told us what he saw."

She glanced at Davin. He seemed to flinch a bit upon noticing her eye color, but returned her gaze. His expression was impossible to read.

"So now you're all frightened of me?"

"Well now, we wouldn't say that," Aidan answered.

"I would," interjected another. Several others echoed this sentiment.

"I stand corrected. You're scary, alright? I felt like the very ground was shaking when you were talking to the Council. And your eyes are still all white. I mean, we were used to you, you know? You were kind of scary when you first got here, and then you started to learn to fight, and learn to talk to us. I forgot you were the Champion."

The others nodded in agreement.

"I don't know. It's just, well, it's unnerving to be reminded how scary you are."

"I do understand, and I'm sorry. I've joined the Council, and we're going to do some planning. This may be the first time I've scared you, but it probably won't be the last," she replied resignedly.

They stared at her, surprised. Some leaned away. Davin's expression was still unreadable.

"You don't have to put it like that," Aidan replied finally, taking a nervous drink.

She smiled wanly. "I understand. I'll leave you to your celebration. It's not my custom anyway. Will there be fight practice tomorrow afternoon?"

"I don't know. Depends on how much I drink tonight," he answered.

"Alright." She stood up. "Have fun." Then she turned and left.

Powdery snow was starting to fall from the sky, and her breath crystallized in the air. She walked away from the loud, boisterous sound in the dining hall and made her way to the unused watch tower. Here it was quiet, as it was far enough away that even the demian music couldn't reach it. She climbed up the branches, getting her gloves soaked through. She lit the lantern, and swept the snow off the platform with a broom Davin had thoughtfully brought up a few weeks ago. Then she sat down and stared into the night. The new moon and cloud cover rendered the darkness complete, and all around her was silence. Nearly two contemplative hours went by.

"Eliora?" came Davin's voice, sounding loud to her ears.

"Yes."

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, taking a seat next to her.

"Thinking," she answered, not looking at him.

"That's an odd way to spend new year's evening."

"If I was home, I'd be talking to my family. We'd be discussing the past year, and plans for next year."

"Not celebrating?"

"We celebrate on the summer solstice."

"Isn't it summer where you come from?" he asked.

"Yes."

There were a few moments of silence. Davin blew on his hands to warm them and hugged his knees, rather than letting his legs dangle over the side. "Aren't you cold?"

"No. I'm never cold anymore."

"You mean you don't feel cold or you don't get cold? Because if you just don't feel it, you might hurt yourself staying out here too long."

"I don't get cold."

There was another pause.

"You're wondering why I'm here," he said finally.

She nodded.

"You scared them. You scared the Council, and you scared the young men. The young men didn't even see you. They just heard your voice booming in the gym. You reminded them all that you're more powerful than a mage. It's an uncomfortable thought. But I expect the young men will get over it in a few days. They'll forget, until you do something like that again."

"And you? Aidan said you fetched a ladder to look in the window."

"I did. Maybe I shouldn't have. You scared me too. Shining armor, a flaming sword, and a voice that could reduce mountains to rubble. The very image of a righteous warrior of god." His eyes were wide. "When you first arrived, you fainted on the doorstep. We thought you were weak. We all did." He sighed. "The others left it at that. You fought that wildfire, and nothing changed. When Aidan came and told us all you wanted to be a warrior, no one seemed to take it seriously. When you persisted, didn't give up, they didn't change their minds. Even when you beat Aidan, they still didn't take you seriously. Even when you started to win your fights consistently, they still thought you were weak."

"And what did you think?"

"I've never had much faith, but I did wonder why the god would send someone who seemed so unsuitable to fight for It. So I watched to see what the god saw in you."

"And what did you see?" she asked, turning to look at him.

He stared into the night. "I saw weakness. You fainted on the doorstep. You cried and cried. You tried to make friends, first with Aidan because you could talk to him, then with the rest of us, once you learned enough of the language. When you were shunned, you tried harder to fit in. When the Council scolded you, you submitted to their judgment. Every time you were hurt, you forgave us, and tried harder to live up to our expectations."

"Then why did you bother to try to talk to me?" she asked, not angry, but disappointed.

"Because I saw moments of strength, like when you put the other young men in their place. When you put me in mine. When you defied the Council and fought that wildfire. But I still thought you were weak, because you gave into the Council and to society by becoming a warrior. That's why I was so angry with you. Whenever you showed some signs of strength, it seemed to just disappear as soon as you were challenged."

"Well, I'm glad you can admit you thought I was weak. I don't expect Aidan or the others ever will. I'm not even sure the Council has really accepted it either. It sounds like I'm just going to have to scare you all again when you get complacent," she replied sadly.

He sighed and finally faced her. "We shouldn't get complacent. I'm really angry at myself. I prided myself on being different from the others and for seeing things they couldn't, because I wasn't one of them. And in the end, I had to see you reveal your power before I realized how badly I misjudged you."

"Well, we all make mistakes," she said with a reassuring smile.

"And you're doing it again. You've just forgiven me for thinking so little of you, haven't you?"

"Yes."

He half-laughed. "And we mistook an ability to forgive as a sign of weakness," he remarked bitterly. "Gods, Eliora, I've been a complete idiot. Everything you've done has shown strength. When you were Chosen, you lost the life you had through the god and through the Order. But instead of just staying here, you tried to make this place your new home. You learned an unfamiliar language. You learned about a new society. You learned to fight. I thought you were submitting to the Council by becoming a warrior, but I realized when I saw you today that I was wrong. What you were really becoming was a leader."

His expression was still nearly unreadable, so she searched his dark violet eyes. She saw remorse, sadness, a touch of fear, and something else she couldn't read.

"I am so sorry. I wasn't really angry at you. I was angry at the Light One for being a weak god and sending us a weak Champion. I thought the Light was good, warm, and gentle. I thought Light was represented by people like Jomei, who pray to their god for whatever the god wishes to give them. They are counselors or healers, but never fighters. They are people who only repair what damage has been done by Darkness, but never combat the Darkness and prevent it from causing harm in the first place," he explained, scathingly disdainful. "But Light isn't just happiness and warmth and good feelings. I forgot that Light is also dangerous."

"So you're still frightened of me?"

"I would be a fool not to be frightened after what I saw. But at the same time, I feel better about this whole battle. You are strong, and you are a fighter. I think you can win this battle. I think you can defeat the Darkness."

She smiled. "Thank you. But I thought you didn't like warriors."

"I don't like warriors. They seek out wars. But fighters are a different matter entirely. I respect fighters." He turned back to the black sky.

She gazed at him for a few more moments. "You know, Davin, not everyone fights with a sword or with sorcery. Counselors and healers aren't weak. They're fighters too."

He looked at her sharply. "Then why don't they do something to stop the Darkness?" he snapped.

"They do. They can't fight the external battles, but they help fight the one that happens in here," she replied, pointing at his heart. "They help fight the battle against sorrow, against fear, against grief and anger and despair. They help fight the battle for your very soul, and that's one of the hardest battles of all." Tears welled up as she added, "And I ought to know. I've lost much and gained little, and I still grieve."

"Then why don't you talk to someone like the priest?" he asked, trying to sound scornful, but his own voice was cracking with sadness.

"The same reason you don't, I imagine. You don't trust anyone enough. I'm a stranger in a foreign land. You're a stranger in a familiar land, and maybe that's worse. You're alone, so you carry your burden of grief and guilt by yourself."

"So what?" he snapped, uncomfortable with her shrewd insight. "Grief is healthy."

"Of course it is. If we didn't hurt, we wouldn't be human. But grief and guilt are hard for a soul to bear. If they aren't let go, if the wounds aren't allowed to heal, then the Light starts to fade, and Darkness grows." Her eyes returned to their original color. "That's the battle I fight in my soul, and that's the battle you fight in yours."

Her dark brown eyes held his violet ones for several moments.

Two tears slipped down his face as he finally looked down.

She blinked, and her eyes turned white again.

"Amazing," he remarked, his tone low. "You've shown me I was wrong about the Light for the second time today. It seems gentleness is no less dangerous than a sword. It certainly can cut as deeply."

Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand.

He looked up, surprised. "How do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"Manage to get to me like this."

"I'm sorry," she replied, and tried to pull her hand away.

He held it tightly. "Don't be sorry, Eliora. I think-I think I like it."

She smiled a bit uncertainly.

He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but didn't quite manage to do so. "Would you sing for me?" he asked finally.

"Sure. What would you like to hear? Something sad, or something cheerful?"

"Whatever is traditional for the solstice."

"Which one?"

"Whichever one you like."

"Then I'll sing something for both," she decided. Nearly two hours passed, and she tried to finish on a more cheerful note.

"That was beautiful." He rubbed his hands together, stood up, stomped his feet a bit to warm up. "You don't get cold, but I do. I need to go inside, or I'm going to freeze out here."

She half-laughed. "I'm sorry. I forgot. It's also getting late."

"That doesn't matter. Nearly everyone will be hungover in the morning," he replied, starting to climb down the branches.

She blew out the lantern and followed. "Are you going to join the celebration?"

"Probably not. Everyone's probably pretty drunk by now, and that's not as much fun as getting drunk with everyone."

"I'm sorry. It sounds like I ruined your fun for the evening." She thought to herself, "Perhaps I did say too much. I should try to cheer him up."

"Don't apologize. I spent a few hours with them already. I'm glad I spent time with you. I'm sorry you didn't have any fun. You should have been celebrating with the rest of us," he replied.

They were now near enough to the city that the demian lanterns were providing some dim light.

A mischievous smiled played about her lips. "It's early yet. I could still have some fun."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.

Quick as lightning, she pelted him with a snowball, right in the chest.

"Hey, that was a low blow," he blurted, startled.

She smacked him with a snowball in the leg. "No, that was a low blow," she countering, laughing.

He blinked a few times, and then laughed. "Amazing," he muttered, then returned the volley.

They chased each other with snowballs until they reached the dining hall. Bad shots smacked into the doors. Soon a young man poked his head out to see what the noise was, and he got hit with a stray snowball. He called for reinforcements, and within minutes, there was nearly a full-scale snow war being fought.

An hour later, Davin walked Eliora back to her cottage. Both were soaked through, but both had forgotten their sadness.

"Well, goodnight," she said, unlocking the door.

"Thank you for cheering me up," he replied.

She smiled. "I do my best. I prefer to laugh rather than cry, especially on days of celebration."

"Both have their place. This has been a memorable solstice."

"The way you say it, I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

He met her eyes, and again, there was something there she couldn't read, but she was inexplicably reminded of Basir and Zeki. "You know, you should wear your hair down sometime. I'll bet it's really long."

"It's not really practical for fighting," she replied, a little confused.

"You're not always in fighting practice." He smiled, and took her hand. He kissed the back of it in a gentlemanly fashion. "Goodnight, Eliora." Then he turned and left.

She watched him go with a thoughtful expression. "I'll agree, it's been a memorable solstice. And apparently there are more possibilities open to me than I realized. But what shall I do with those possibilities?" She stared at the fire in contemplative silence for another couple of hours before finally going to bed.

The days passed quickly in Renfrew. Soon the city was covered in a thick blanket of snow. A bitter wind blew in from the north, and patches of ice formed in the slow moving parts of the Azura River, hindering trade. Icicles hung from the eaves, some so long they stabbed into snow drifts. Donnan felt restless, and was plagued by doubt since meeting Eliora. Blake didn't bring up the subject, just lent quiet sympathy to his friend's plight. He continued his fighting practice, and was progressing well. He'd been allowed the use of a real weapon, and had started to beat his instructor regularly. Oddly, this didn't make him feel much better.

Under the watchful eye of the Dark clergy, he had started learning arcane magic. They lent him a room which they had warded as best they could against backlashes and wild magic. He spent long afternoons locked in that room, piecing out the instructions and explanations. He had no time to study Arcana properly, but his grades stayed high because he was using the language. He went out with Aolani twice more before the solstice, and became, if anything, more taken with her.

He continued to run messages for the clergy, and while he often met with Dwyer to discuss plans, he was more resigned than enthusiastic. The priest seemed to have noticed, but he never pressed Donnan about the issue. His relationship with Alain was still tense, and while his brother didn't say anything specifically, he managed to make it evident he didn't like Donnan working for the Order of Darkness. This made Donnan even more miserable, as for the first time in his life he had a significant savings and wanted to get Alain a really nice new year's gift, but he thought his brother might refuse a gift bought with the Order's money.

The solstice dawned cloudy and cold. Donnan awoke, feeling odd. The power within him that had been mostly quiet was moving again, pushing to get out, pressing to be used. He fetched water for tea and washing, then started on breakfast, trying to ignore the odd feeling.

Alain soon came in from watch, wet and cold. "Damn, damn, I really do hate the night watch some times," he said by way of greeting. He immediately went into the bedroom to change his clothes and dry his armor.

"Good mornin' to you to," Donnan returned dryly.

"Gods, I hope that tea is ready soon. I'm freezin'."

"Do you have to work tonight?"

"'Fraid so. A lot of us do. Lots of drunks out on new year's evenin'. But I'm off new year's night. That's somethin', at least."

"Yeah, that's somethin'," he agreed. He laid out breakfast and poured the tea. "So what do you want to do?"

"Well, I don't know yet," Alain started, taking a sip of the strong tea. He looked up at his brother. "Are you goin' to be at the... Holy sweet god of Light," he yelped, jumping backwards. He dropped the mug and knocked his chair over, scrambling to get away from his brother.

"What in darkness is wrong with you?" he snapped, suddenly scared and quickly setting the kettle down.

"What in darkness is wrong with you?" Alain retorted. "Your eyes are black. All black."

"What?" He picked up a clean metal plate and used it like a mirror. Sure enough, his eyes were black from edge to edge. "Godsdammit," he swore loudly, dropping the plate. It clattered against the table. "Damn damn damn it."

"What-what've they been doin' to you over at the Temple?" he stuttered. He stopped moving backwards, but he wasn't coming any closer.

"It's not their fault," he sighed. "Damn it, damn, damn, damn. I didn't want you to find out like this. I hoped you wouldn't find out at all. Damn it to darkness."

"What're you talkin' about, little brother? What's goin' on here? Are you alright? Maybe I should take you to the Temple of Day or somethin'."

"Oh, gods no. That's the worst thing you could do. Gods." He sat down heavily in his chair. "Gods. Alain, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

"What's goin' on?" he pressed. He moved forward and set his chair upright. He sat down cautiously. "Are you sick or possessed or somethin'?"

"Or somethin'," he agreed. "Gods. You weren't supposed to find out. Not like this. Not now."

"Find out what, Donnan?" His blue eyes were wide with fear. "What's goin' on?"

He stared morosely into his breakfast plate, and tried to will his eyes back to normal. They stubbornly stayed black. "I guess I should've expected somethin' like this today, bein' the winter solstice and all," he murmured.

"What? What are you talkin' about? You're really scarin' me here."

"Well, my explainin' what's goin' on isn't goin' to help that."

"Donnan, just talk to me," he pleaded.

"Oh, god, Alain, I don't know what to say. I don't know half of what's goin' on anyway."

"Then just tell me what you know. Please."

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "Alright. But you have to promise not to tell anyone, alright? Not your friends, not your boss, not a cleric, no one. Not another living soul. Promise me."

The larger man looked suspicious, but nodded. "Alright. I promise I won't tell anyone." He picked up his mug with a trembling hand. "I'll get some more tea, then."

"Not a bad idea." When his brother had sat back down, he sighed, and spoke. "Here's what's goin' on, as far as I know. The gods are fightin'. They've been fightin' for a while, I think, and now they've gone and done somethin' different. They've picked two humans to fight for them, two people to channel Their power. Avatars, we're called. One Avatar of Light, and one of Darkness. I think you can guess which one I am," he explained bitterly.

"Gods, Donnan. But why? Why you?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I talked the Dark One, and It said It could have Chosen someone else, but Chose my soul anyway. I don't know why, and It wouldn't tell me much."

"You-you talked to the god?" he stuttered.

"Well, I couldn't get straight answers from the Order," he snapped, his temper flaring in his anxiety. "I don't think they know as much as they pretend anyway."

"But you can't talk to the god. Only clerics can do that."

"Clerics have nothin' compared to what I got. I'm an Avatar. Don't you understand what that means? I've got a direct connection to god. To the Dark One."

Alain just stared with his mouth hanging open for several moments. "But why you?" he repeated finally.

"I don't know," he retorted, standing up suddenly. "God won't tell me that. Just stupid bad luck, as best I can tell. Do you think I'm happy about this? I'm terrified, alright? Do you know what kind of power I have?"

"N-no. I just found out, remember."

"Right." He plopped back into his chair. "Right. Maybe I shouldn't tell you. You're scared enough."

"Can I be scared enough?" he returned thoughtfully.

Donnan gave a bitter, ironic half-laugh. "Maybe not. Maybe not. Alright, I don't know when exactly I was Chosen, but I get the feelin' it was long before I could have done anythin' about it. Remember those weird dreams I was havin' after the summer solstice?"

Alain nodded.

"Yeah, well, those were warnin's from god about what was goin' to happen. On the equinox I got real sick, and I guess the Dark One told the Order what was happenin' and they came and got me. God explained, sort of, what was happenin' to me, and what I could do. I'm a sorcerer now. Well, bigger than a sorcerer. And I can control the wind and water. I can control weather. I've got enough power to do anythin' I want. Anythin' at all."

He was silent for a few moments. "So what's wrong with your eyes?"

"I don't know. I guess since it's the winter solstice and all, they've gone to black, like the Darkness."

"Gods."

"Yeah."

"That's why you're workin' for the Order?"

"Yeah." He decided not to tell Alain that the Order was also working for him. "I don't think I could work anywhere else. Think what would've happened if I joined the guard and went into work with my eyes like this."

"Yeah. It would've been bad. But if you aren't joinin' the guard, then why've you been learnin' to fight?"

"What do you know about that?" he demanded, surprised. "You've been spyin' on me? Don't you trust me?"

"Not spyin', just keepin' an eye on you, little brother. I trust you fine; I don't trust your friends at the Temple. You've been trainin' up with old Clancy. Pretty good too. Don't know when you go so strong though."

"The equinox, I'd guess."

"Oh. That's interestin'. But yeah, I've been wonderin' what you've been up to. I was also wonderin' where you got the money to pay for his trainin' and your tutorin', but I guess the Order's been payin' your way."

"Tutorin'? You know about that too? Gods, I thought you were goin' to leave me alone. Let me live my life."

"I haven't said anythin' until now, have I? Anyway, findin' out about the tutorin' was an accident. Kennet said somethin' about his sister pickin' up some extra work." He sighed. "I thought you were trainin' to join the guard and were just goin' to surprise me. I was wrong. So why are you learnin' to fight? And why is the Order payin' for it?"

"I need to know how to fight. The Order is payin' because they want me to learn to fight."

"Why?" Alain pressed, suspicious.

"Haven't you been payin' attention?" he roared. "I'm the Avatar of Darkness. Do you think anyone good wants me around? And there's an Avatar of Light wanderin' around there somewhere. Do you think she's goin' to let me live? I'm supposed to fight the LightBearer, and before the next autumn equinox. When who I am and what I am gets out, people are goin' to be comin' for me. And I don't want to die." He put his head in his hands.

"Donnan," Alain started after a few moments, his brow furrowed in thought, "if you win this fight for Dark One, what happens then?"

"I gain the powers of the LightBearer, the ability to control ground and fire. There won't be anyone who would keep from doin' what I wanted then. Not a mage, not a cleric, not anybody," he answered dully. His voice became softer. "The Dark One says if I win, I start a reign of Darkness upon the world."

"I was afraid of that," he replied, nodding slightly. "Well, damn. I don't know what to say. I mean, I don't want the Dark One to win. But I'd guess you don't have a choice now."
"No kiddin'."

"And I don't want to see my little brother turn into a killer."

"What makes you think I would?" he snapped, angrily. He looked up sharply, but there was only sympathy in Alain's face.

"How else are you supposed to win, except to kill the only person who could stop you? This LightBearer. Isn't that how it works?"

"So I'm told," he agreed.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Even if you don't want to, the Order's goin' to be pushin' you. Maybe the god too." He sighed. "But I don't want you to get killed either. What a mess."

"You're tellin' me." There was a moment of silence. "So now what do we do?"

"I've got no idea. I just don't know what to make of it all right now. I mean, damn. It's a lot to think about. And I don't think I want to think about it. You're my little brother. You're not evil."

"Darkness isn't evil either, Alain."

"Well, it isn't good. It isn't right. It isn't fair of the gods to do this to you. Either of you. I mean, damn. Givin' humans the power of gods? Just givin' 'em a little power is what started the Mage Era and the Mage Wars. This is no good at all." He sighed. "But I know why you've been so anxious and secretive lately. Keepin' that sort of thing all bottled up, and no one but the Order to go to? I'm sorry if I've been hard on you. I was worried. And with good reason, too."

Donnan was amazed anew at the keenness of his brother's insight. "I couldn't tell you, though. I didn't want to scare you."

"No, no, I understand. Honestly, I'm not sure what I want to do, though. I mean, you're my brother, and I love you, but you're goin' to have to do what you're goin' to have to do. You're already involved in stuff that isn't exactly legal, but if you get into a fight here, and the guards are called out, well, damn. I don't want to hurt you, I don't want them to hurt you, but I don't want you to hurt them."

"What're you sayin'?" he growled, angry at his brother for being so understanding, yet still so frightened.

"I'm sayin' that maybe it'll be best if I'm not around you so much anymore. The less I know about what you're doin', maybe the better off I'll be."

"Oh, Alain, don't be like that," he snapped. "I'm not that different. I'm not some evil monster. I saved the city once already from a big storm."

"Well, I'm not sayin' you're a monster or anythin'. What if you get stronger, though? What if the Darkness inside you gets stronger? You're connected to a god, the Dark God. What's that doin' to you inside?"

"Dammit, Alain, don't you think I've asked myself these same questions?" he snapped, now irritated this his brother had so shrewdly guessed his own doubts. "I don't know what's happenin' inside my soul. I'm afraid I'll turn all Dark. I'm afraid of becomin' that monster and hurtin' people. But I can't ignore this power. It won't let me. I can feel it right now, pushin' to get out. You think you're scared? Gods, you don't know nothin' about bein' scared."

"That's not true, and you know it," he retorted. "Right now I'm scared for you, for me, and for everyone else. And I'm angry too. Why did the gods do this? Why did they have to pick you? And why isn't the Order of Light tellin' anyone? Holy gods, what a blazing mess." Alain put his head in his hands, thinking hard.

He just stared at his brother in an icy silence. Unreasonable anger and annoyance swelled inside him, and the Dark power started to push harder to be used.

A sudden crash of thunder broke the quiet tension.

"Light One have mercy," Alain exclaimed.

The shutters were now rattling like mad in a howling wind.

Donnan got up, opened a shutter just a crack, and looked outside.

A storm seemed to have come out of no where, and stinging snow whirled to the ground. Visibility was low, but bright lightning ripped through the heavy clouds.

"Thunder snow," Alain remarked over his shoulder. "I've never seen that before." He glanced at his brother. "Are you-are you doin' this?"

"I didn't mean to," he replied, extending his awareness to control the violent weather. "I can fix it. I think. Just give me a minute or two." He closed his eyes and concentrated, and within fifteen minutes, he had calmed the storm down to just a heavy snowfall. He turned to find Alain was sitting at the kitchen table, watching him. "Well?" he prompted.

"I've got some thinkin' to do, little brother. Right now, I'm goin' to try to go to bed, but I've got some thinkin' to do when I get up."

"And when will you be done thinkin'?" he asked harshly.

"Dinner time will do. I may change my mind, but I don't think I should think too long."

"Fine. I'll be around for dinner."

"You goin' to the Temple today?"

"They'll be expectin' me."

Alain sighed. "Alright. Whatever I figure out, whatever happens, you're still my little brother, and I still love you. Take care of yourself, alright? Do what you've got to do to protect yourself, 'cause I don't think I can protect you anymore."

"I don't need you to protect me."

"It never hurts to have someone watchin' your back. I'm goin' to bed now. I'll see you when I wake up."

"Remember, you promised not to tell."

"Yeah, I know. I don't like it, but I made a promise. I keep my promises." With that, he went into the bedroom.

Donnan stared at the dregs of his tea cup, feeling quite wretched. He had no fighting practice or tutoring, so after about an hour he made his way to the temple, keeping his hood up more to hide his eyes than fend off the cold weather.

He entered through a side entrance, as usual, and went to find Blake. "Well," he thought, trying to distract himself, "I always wondered what the Dark clergy did on the solstice. Guess I get to find out."

Blake's room was empty, so he went to his own guest quarters, and found the acolyte playing cards there.

"What're you doin' in my room?" Donnan demanded.

He jumped. "Waitin' for you, of course. It's the winter solstice, and Dwyer's got a special ceremony planned because of you."

"I want no part of it," he replied irritably.

"I didn't say you were part of it." He peered at his friend. "Gods, what in darkness is wrong with your eyes?"

"It's the solstice, of course."

"Hey, sorry I asked. You're touchy today. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that my brother asked the same question you did," he answered, sitting heavily onto the bed.

"Oh, damn. And what did you tell him?" Blake asked, cleaning his glasses.

"About the Avatars. What I know about it. Nothin' about you guys, or what you're up to."

There was a few moments of thoughtful silence before Blake replaced his glasses and spoke again. "How'd he take it?"

"He's scared. I don't know what's next. He wants to talk before he goes to work."

"You don't have to go, if you don't want to."

"Sure I do. I need to know how he reacts. Then I'll know how other people will react when they find out."

"Oh, I see. You figure that you can use Alain's reaction to gage how the rest of the ordinary people will react to findin' out you're the Dark Avatar. Of course, since Alain's your brother, that may not be a good gage."

"I figure Alain will probably react best, you know? And if he gets all weird and afraid of me, well, then I know I can't expect better from anyone else," Donnan sighed.

"I see that. What about Aolani?"

"Oh, no, I'm never tellin' her. I'll never get past just bein' friends if I say somethin' stupid like that."

"So you're planning on making a move?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, thank you very much. I was hopin' to give her a new year's evening gift, but I'm not goin' near her with my eyes like this. So I'll try to give it to her next tutorin' session."

"Well, that's something."

"Glad to see you're supportin' me."

"So, what do you want to do today?"

"I don't know. I feel restless, like I should do somethin', but I'm afraid of what I might do," Donnan answered. "And that's makin' me grumpy."

"I see that."

"Thanks. Jackass."

"I'm here to help," Blake replied cheerfully. "What'd you get Aolani anyway?"

"A silk scarf. Women like that sort of thing, right?"

"I'm told so. What'd you get me?"

"What makes you think I got you anythin'?"

"Well, if you're goin' to be like that, I won't give you my present either," the acolyte sniffed.

"I left it at the apartment. I was goin' to give it to you later, but I was so upset I forgot to bring it."

"Ah, well, then I'll be patient."

"What'd you get me?"

"I'll give you your present when I get mine," Blake answered.

"Jackass."

"I thought we went over this. Did you get Alain a present?"

"Yeah, I did. I think I'll still give it to him. I think he might need it."

"What'd you get him?"

"None of your business. I don't even know if he'll take it," he replied tersely, standing up and starting to pace the room. "Dammit. Let's talk about somethin' else. Does Dwyer expect me to do somethin' tonight?"

"Not that I know of."

"Do you have to be here?"

"Normally I would, but I think I could be excused. On the other hand, don't you want to know what Dwyer's saying about you?" the acolyte asked.

He half-smiled. "It's good to know you're still on my side. More or less."

"I try as best I can." He lowered his voice. "You still hung up on meeting that woman?"

"I'm not hung up," he retorted. "It just bothers me."

"Well, it bothers me too. Have you thought about how to protect yourself from her?"

"I've got that Armor."

"True. But is that enough? I mean, I don't think my little dagger could do any damage, but what about an enchanted weapon or somethin'? She managed to cut down that darkling with magic."

"What makes you think she knows anythin' about magic?"

"Donnan, she was in Mulago, for gods' sake. What in blazes do you think she was doin' there?" he retorted dryly. "I'd lay good money down that she was there for the same thing you were."

"I'd already thought about that," he sighed.

"More to the point, though, do you think you could fight her with an ordinary weapon? One made of steel? A combination of fire and ore, which are her elements. Doesn't sound like a good plan to me."

"So what's your plan? How am I supposed to get a weapon that isn't made of steel? Honestly."

He started to clean his glasses. "You could make one."

"What?"

"Enchant a normal weapon. Mages do it all the time. Or they used to, before the Mage Wars anyway."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Well, you don't know how to bring in a storm, but you managed that just fine."

"That's not even close to the same thing," Donnan protested. But the power was moving inside him, and he started to wonder if he could do such an impossible thing.

"Don't know until you try," he replied, replacing his glasses. "It would be an interesting exercise to see just how far beyond a sorcerer you are, magically speaking."

"And dangerous."

"This temple's pretty warded," Blake shrugged.

"You aren't."

"I don't have to be here when you do it."

He started to pace faster, thinking. "I can't use metal. But I can't make stuff out of thin air."

"No?"

"Well, I'm not goin' to try just yet. One step at a time, alright?"

"It's up to you. You're the Avatar."

"Maybe you should've been the Avatar. You seem to know what you want better than I do."

"Donnan, my dear friend, for all my ambition, I do not at all desire your power for myself."

He paused in his pacing and gazed at his friend. Blake looked uncharacteristically serious and sincere. "That, my friend, isn't encouragin'."

"Sorry. How about you start with somethin' in your element?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Like snow?"

"Snow, or ice, or something."

He snapped his fingers. "What about those big icicles outside? Those things are almost weapons to start with."

"Not a bad idea. You want to go pick one out? I believe there are some the size of spears on the north side of the temple."

"Wait. Is anyone goin' to notice?"

Blake shook his head. "I doubt it. Everyone's busy in meditation or whatnot for a few more hours, except the acolytes, who are stuck cooking and cleaning and makin' sure everything's ready for tonight."

"You owe me for this, you know."

"I don't think so. I didn't become friends with you so I could get out of my duties. That's just a nice side effect for me," he retorted as they walked outside.

Quickly they made their way around the building. The snow was still falling thickly, and the city was quiet. Donnan broke off a large icicle that was roughly the size of a longsword and they returned to his room. They saw no one during their errand.

"Damn, it's cold out there," the acolyte remarked, stamping his feet.

"Is it?"

"You should be freezin'. You didn't even bundle up."

"I don't get cold," he shrugged. "I don't get hot either, now that I think about it. Weird." He set the icicle down in the middle of the floor. "Now what, smart guy?"

He shrugged. "This is where you take over. You've been studying arcane magic, right? Isn't will the most important thing about it?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Right then." He sat down on the floor next to the icicle. He picked up the spear of ice, and started to concentrate, reaching out with his elemental magic. He ran his fingers over it, thinking of the shape of a longsword. The ice started to move under his touch, responding to his thoughts. Soon it was reformed into a perfect replica of a longsword.

As the acolyte watched, he began to glow slightly with an odd light, not exactly arcane, and not exactly divine.

He closed his eyes, and his awareness expanded as he considered the heft and weight of a sword. He thought of making it a sword fit for a mighty warrior, a true Champion. He held it lightly in her hands, willing magic to flow into the weapon. He felt the ice become heavier, the rough spots smooth out, the tiny cracks within the ice mend. He thought of strengthening the blade, making it unbreakable, and of making the edge so sharp it could cut through even the toughest armor.

Lightning started to flick across the sword. Blake looked alarmed, but didn't say anything since Donnan didn't seem to notice.

He thought of fighting the LightBearer, and thought of making the blade strong enough to withstand any force, any blow, making the sword into the strongest weapon possible, immune to the effects of time, weather, sorcery, divine magic, and fire. How long he poured magic into the sword, he did not know. When he was finished, he stood up and turned to face Blake.

The color had drained from his face, and he was looking at his friend with wide, dark fear-filled eyes.

He held the sword out for him to examine. The blade was now black as the deepest night, but strong as the tempestuous sea. The hilt was plain silver, with no gems or decorations. The sword was so cold the air around it condensed, giving it a faint corona of steam. "What do you think?" he asked, his voice carrying a strange echo to it, like the rumble of thunder.

"Great. It's really great," he squeaked.

"Yeah, it's not too bad," he agreed, staring at the black sword. The power inside him seemed expended, but he could feel more starting to flow into him. For the moment, though, the pressure was lessened. He swung it around a bit, and found that it was perfectly balanced. "Heh. Maybe I should make stuff more often."

"I wouldn't," he stuttered.

Donnan suddenly realized just how terrified Blake looked. He sent the sword away. "Maybe not," he replied hastily.

"Where did it go?"

"The Shadow Realm, I think. I guess I connected the sword to that place. Huh."

"Yeah, maybe you shouldn't make stuff anymore. This was a bad idea."

"I don't think so. I've got myself a great weapon now, and I'm actually feelin' better. I'm hungry. Is it time for lunch?"

Blake cleaned his glasses nervously. "Yeah, it's about time for lunch. You were really out of it for a while there."

"And you just watched? Weren't you real bored?"

"I didn't know what was going to happen." He lowered his voice. "And I didn't want to leave you alone, in case somethin' went wrong."

"Thanks," he replied, nodding slightly. "Oh, right. I forgot. I can't go out with my eyes like this."

"I'll bring you something. I'll be right back." He scurried out before Donnan could say another word.

"Oh, damn it," he sighed, and fell down heavily on the bed. He didn't intend to fall asleep, but he passed out within seconds.

"Hey, Donnan, wake up," came Blake's voice.

"What time is it?"

"Getting on towards dinner time. You were really out."

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" he demanded irritably.

"I figured you needed to sleep," he shrugged. "Sometimes doing lots of magic wears out the clerics. I figured it was the same with you."

"Yeah, alright. I'm starvin'. Where's that food you said you'd get, before you ran off like a scared rabbit?"

"On the table. And I didn't run like a scared rabbit."

"You did too," he snapped, and started to eat.

He sighed. "Alright. I'm sorry. I know you're the Avatar and all, but it was a shock, somehow, seein' you like that. You were glowing weirdly, and doing somethin' no mage could ever even think of doing. Your voice sounded weird too. It was echoing in a weird way." He half-laughed. "Ironic, isn't it? Here I am in the Order of Darkness, learning to worship the Dark One, friends with ShadowWalker, and now I find I'm scared of the Dark."

"That's not ironic, that's just smart," Donnan countered. "Gods, I am the ShadowWalker, and I'm scared."

"I know, I know. It's just, well, I don't think of you like that, you know? You're my friend, not a cleric or a mage or somethin'."

"Thanks. I think that actually makes me feel better."

"Well, glad I could help. But you've got to talk to your brother soon. He'll be getting up for work. If he even slept."

He sighed. "Yeah, I should take care of that." He finished up the food. "When do the ceremonies start?"

"Sundown."

"When're they over?"

"Midnight."

"Midnight? Gods. I guess I'll find some way to have some fun until then."

"Good luck with that. Good luck with Alain."

"Thanks," he replied, and left the temple.

He took the long way home, but when he got there, his brother was already awake and making dinner. "Hey."

"Hey," Alain replied shortly, not turning around.

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

"Not much. Not well. I was havin' weird dreams about thunder and lightnin' and ice," he answered, shuddering slightly. "Where've you been?"

"Talkin' to Blake down at the temple."

"I thought so." He continued to cook, so Donnan took a seat and waited. Alain laid out the food and sat down.

"You burned it a little."

"Sorry. I'm not used to this new stove." He sighed. "Well, gods. Best get this over with."

"Get what over with?"

"Donnan, you're my little brother. I love you. I want to help you in anyway I can. But I don't know how. Do you know how?"

He shook his head. "I don't think anyone can help me."

"I was afraid of that. I was thinkin' maybe we should get separate places."

"What? Why?" he demanded.

"Because you're doin' stuff I'd rather not know about."

"So? You knew that before."

"Yeah, but I thought if I was around, I could, you know, talk you out of it. But now I know I can't. You've got to do what you've got to do. I understand that. I don't want to make things worse by lecturin' you, or bein' in the way. I don't really want to have to bring you in if you do somethin' wrong."

"Thanks," he snapped. "So you're just coverin' your rear end?"

"Aw, don't be like that." He sighed. "Look, I'll be honest. This whole thing scares the livin' daylights out of me. I've thought and I've thought and I still don't know what to make of it all. I knew you were in trouble before, and now I've got a better idea of what kind of trouble. I just don't know how to help. I don't know if I can. Honestly, little brother, I'm not sure I can handle this."

"What?" he asked, feeling his heart sink. "But-but you can handle anythin'. You got us to Renfrew after Mother and Father were killed by those bandits. You got us jobs and a place to live. You got in the guard. You've never backed off from anythin' in your whole life. And now you're leavin' me alone, even though you know what's goin' on?"

"Yeah, but that was just bad luck. This is somethin' the gods are doin'. That's beyond me. Way beyond anythin' I've had experience with."

"Yeah, well, me too, dammit." Anger welled up inside him, anger that his brother wasn't as strong as he thought, wasn't as good a man as he thought.

"I'm sorry, Donnan. Gods, I'm sorry. But I've got to be honest with you. You'd know if I was lyin'. You're all mixed up in things I can't handle. The gods, the Order, learnin' to fight, and I'm guessin' your new books are about magic too?"

"Yeah," he answered dully. His throat was tight, and his stomach curled up into knots.

"Right. I'm just a simple guy. I know that. I can patrol the streets, and I can run down a pickpocket. But I've got no faith, and I've got no education. I'm no cleric and I'm no mage. I'm just a guard. I don't know if I can stay here and watch you get into trouble, watch you have to deal with this, knowin' I can't do one godsdamn thing to help."

"So you're scared of me?"

"No. No. Well, yeah, kind of. But really, I'm scared for you," he replied earnestly. "I'm scared you're goin' to get into trouble, and the only thing I'll be able to do is just watch." His voice choked up. "I watched Mother and Father get killed and all I could do was watch and pray I wasn't next. Tore me right up inside. So I vowed I'd at least protect you, since I couldn't save them." Tears shone in his blue eyes. "And now it seems I can't protect you after all. And I'm scared I won't be able to save you either," he finished quietly.

"Oh, Alain," he sighed, the anger draining away.

"I'm sorry. I'm a lousy brother. Here you need my help the most, and I'm runnin' away. I don't want to lose you, but gods, I don't think I'm strong enough to watch that happen."

They sat quietly for some time, the silence punctuated by broken sobs from both of them.

"Alain, I don't want to be left alone," Donnan said at length.

"I don't really want to leave you alone." Alain sighed, and ran his hands through his dirty blond hair. "I wish to the Light One I knew what to do."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if askin' the gods is worth much," he replied.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I just got an idea," he responded, suddenly brightening up.

"What?"

"We can get separate places, but we don't have to get places on the opposite side of the city. I can just move into another apartment."

Hope stirred faintly in his soul, but a troubled thought came to his mind. "On your salary?"

"Oh, yeah." His face fell.

"Now, wait a minute," Donnan replied, not wanting the hope to fade. "I've got money. More than I let on about. I can help pay for your place too."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. And it's honest work, really. I run messages. That's all I do for the Order. That's not illegal or nothin'."

Alain's brow furrowed in thought. "Alright. I'll see about getting another apartment in this buildin'. Would that be alright?"

"Yeah," he replied, relieved.

"Good. I can keep an eye on you, but I won't be in the way either. Hopefully by the time you really need me, I'll be a stronger man."

"Thanks, Alain."

"Well, good. I'm glad that's settled. At least for now. Before I go out, though, I want to give you your present."

"You didn't have to."

"Sure I did. You're my little brother, right," he replied with a smile, then went into the bedroom. "Maybe it's a good thing you're out so much, or you might have found it. I didn't have a good place to hide it." He set down a small, rectangular package wrapped in rough brown paper. "Open it," he said eagerly.

Donnan ripped up layers of wrapping to reveal a handsome, leather-bound book. The title showed it to be a collection of folk tales and legends from the region. "This is great," he exclaimed, delighted. He opened it carefully, relishing the new book smell. To his surprise, a folded up sheet of parchment fell out. Puzzled, he unfolded it and read it. "A two month pass to the library? Alain, this must have cost you two weeks' salary."

"Well, I've got money, and what's it good for if not for spendin' on my family."

"Thanks. This is great. Really great. I've got a gift for you too, but I was afraid you wouldn't take it, considerin' who pays my salary."

"If it's honest work, I can't argue with that."

He went into the bedroom, and then slipped into the Shadow Realm. He kept the gift in the closet in his room in the temple. He quickly returned and set a narrow box down in front of his brother.

Alain opened it, and found a sheathed dagger. He pulled the weapon out, revealing a silver blade. "Donnan, where did you get this?"

"I bought it, of course. Been runnin' a few messages for the Iron Guild too, and asked around for a good smithy. It's, um, not for every day use though."

"I know that. Silver's too soft."

"See, I wasn't sure what to tell you, but since you know about me already, I'll tell you why I got that. It's for emergencies."

"Like what?"

"There are nasty creatures out there. Creatures of Darkness. Sometimes they come out at night, and you're on the night watch and all. Silver's the only thing that hurts 'em. I didn't want someone usin' them to come after you to get at me, you know?"

He glanced sharply at his brother, then nodded. "Well, I guess you're lookin' out for me too. Thanks. I just hope I won't need it."

"Me too, but it doesn't hurt to have it. You'll keep it on you, right?"

"Of course. I appreciate it. I really do." There was an awkward pause. "So, would you like to play a game or somethin' until I have to go to work?"

"I'd like that," Donnan replied.

After Alain left to go on patrol, Donnan opened up his new book and eagerly started to read. When midnight came, he went to the Temple, dodging drunks and pickpockets. Blake was waiting in his guest room.

"Gods, that was boring," he said.

"Well, tell me about it anyway," Donnan replied.

"You and Alain alright?"

"Mostly. He's busy tonight, I'll bet. Lots of drunks out."

"Well, that's good. Right. Gift time. What'd you get me?"

"Don't be greedy." He handed the acolyte a rectangular package, wrapped in rough brown paper.

Blake ripped it open. "A book?" he asked. "The Book of Lunae," he read off the black leather.

"I figured you should have a copy of your own."

"Thanks. This will really help me with my studies. They don't give out copies for us to keep. We just get lectured on it." A piece of paper was sticking out of the book. He opened it and pulled the paper out. "It's a credit note. What's this for?"

"Read the verse about half way down the first page."

His eyes scanned the pages. "'Moonlight made into metal, silver is the bane of all Dark creatures, for it pierces them as moonlight pierces the night.' I don't understand."

"I talked to some of the members of the Iron Guild. That's enough credit for you to go get your dagger treated with silver."

"Oh. I get it. Thanks." He put the credit note in his pocket and put the book aside. "Right, time for your gift. It's in my room. I'll be right back." He left, then returned in about five minutes.

Donnan stared at the rectangular package. "I'm guessin' it's a book."

"What's wrong with a book?"

"Nothin'. I just find it funny. Alain gave me a book too. And a two month library pass."

"On his salary? Damn."

"Yeah." The package was wrapped in smooth purple paper. He opened it carefully, revealing a book with a white leather cover. "The Book of Sol? Can you give this to me?"

"Well, don't tell Dwyer, but there's no reason why not."

"But why?"

"I thought it might help give you some insight on the Light. You know, give you some idea of what she might do. Every little bit of information helps, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I mean it."

"Good. But don't be showin' that around here. I might get in some trouble."

"No problem. So, tell me about these mysterious ceremonies."

"Gods. Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah."

They talked for a couple hours, until they were interrupted by a soft knock. Donnan hid his gift in the closet and opened the door. A female acolyte stood there, smiling coyly, flinching only slightly at the sight of his black eyes. Blake made himself scarce, and Donnan spent the rest of the night at the temple.

New year's day passed uneventfully. Eliora first checked her eye color in the mirror. They were no longer white. She occupied herself by getting maps of the area and using the information she had gotten from Jomei and the Council to make notes and marks on the map. The rest of the city seemed to have decided to sleep in.

The next day, she was ready to meet with the Council. She met briefly with Jomei, and they both proceeded to the Council Chamber.

"Good morning, Eliora," Hialmar greeted. "Have you thought about what we discussed on the solstice?"

She nodded. "I've acquired some maps, and I think the ShadowWalker is working from Renfrew," she answered.

They all looked at her, startled.

"What?" Hialmar replied.

"Well, somewhere in the city-states, but if I gambled, I'd put my money on Renfrew."

"Please, enlighten us," he said, a little skeptically.

"He needs people to raise an army. No other area besides the city-states has a large population."

"There's the Charred Land," he offered.

"No, I don't think so. The Charred Land is full of warlords and robbers, which is a good place to recruit people, but there's no money and there's no trade. He'd need a way to get weapons if he wants to turn a lot of warring factions into an army. Although it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to keep an eye on the area."

"Why Renfrew?"

"It's near the center of all the city-states, and the Azura River runs along the city's western border, bringing in a lot of trade from the north and south. The Sun Road also runs through the southern end of the city, bringing in the trade from the east and west. In the past hundred years the city-states have gone to war twice, and Renfrew has emerged a little bit larger and a little bit stronger. Right now it's easily the biggest of the city-states, and one of the largest cities on the continent."

The men nodded. "We've thought of Renfrew too," Hialmar replied, "but I don't think we have enough evidence to rule out some of the others, like Meldon. It's also on the road, and since it's near the edge, it's got more goods to trade."

"Yes, but the Iron Guild hasn't increased their movements in Meldon over the past three months. They have in Renfrew."

"But trade hasn't increased," he protested.

"Legal trade hasn't increased," she countered. "And something's going on with the Salt Guild too. I'm not sure what, but according to the letters you've received, they're going through quite a change in their upper ranks. I've gathered that spices are as valuable, in their own way, as gold in this region."

"I must say, I'm surprised at your insight. How can you be so sure of this?" Hialmar asked.

"I'm not sure. But my job was to record government meetings. I've spent five years listening and learning how politics work. It doesn't seem to be so different here. Every time there's been a major change in who runs a trade, that trade has tried to change policies for their benefit. The spice trade is one that my people watch particularly closely. They're quite rich, and what's to their benefit is rarely to the benefit of everyone else," she explained dryly.

The men looked startled again, even Jomei. They quickly looked over the maps and the relevant correspondence, talking amongst themselves. Then Hialmar nodded, and she felt as though she'd passed some sort of test. "You're right. At least, I can understand your reasoning. Very well, what do you suggest we do?"

"Gather information. Try to confirm that the Iron Guild is smuggling in weapons. Try to figure out what the Salt Guild is up to. It could be just a coincidence, but somehow I don't think so. Both of those trades have too much money to be ignored. We need allies. We need people to watch and listen for us. People who can be trusted."

"We need spies?" Hialmar asked, with a touch of disdain in his voice.

"Is that your word? Yes, I guess so."

"That seems underhanded."

"Why? You can't arm your soldiers until you've armed yourself with information to tell them where to go and what to do. In the early stages, information is more important than force."

"The information we have comes from our friends and families," he reminded her. "They aren't soldiers or spies."

"Then we need allies who are. Or at least are willing to become spies and soldiers."

"Where do you suggest we look for those?" he asked.

She sighed. "I don't know. So few people even know there's to be a battle, I have no idea how to recruit them for something they don't know about."

"I can help," came Jomei's voice.

They turned to him.

"How?" asked Hialmar.

"I can talk to my Order. We know what's going on. They can perhaps start looking for willing recruits, and explain the situation."

"Why doesn't your Order just tell people the truth?" Hialmar asked, narrowing his eyes a little.

"We fear it would cause panic."

"And it won't when those two start to fight?"

"I'm sorry, Hialmar, this is out of my hands. I can only ask my brethren if they'll help us find allies."

"It'll have to do," Eliora interrupted quickly, to spare the priest from more questions. He already looked very uncomfortable. "Please, get those messages ready. Hialmar, I know you don't want to endanger your families and friends, but they're all we've got right now. Can you please get some more messages to them, requesting information on the Iron or Salt Guilds? Speed is important. I'll carry the messages myself if need be."

"We'll do that, we'll take you up on that offer." He glanced at the priest. "I've already told those I can trust what's really going on in the world. They haven't panicked."

"I'm sorry, Hialmar," he repeated.

"If we get more allies, we run the risk of telling someone who's not trustworthy," she mused. "We'll have to find some way of guaranteeing that trust, and making sure we can't be spied on." She shook her head. "But we'll worry about that when we get allies."

"Yes, we'll have to worry about security soon," Hialmar agreed. "If we do confirm the ShadowWalker is working from Renfrew, what are we going to do about it?"

"I think my bluff worked too well," she thought, feeling a little under pressure. "I guess that depends on what he's doing. If it's illegal we can report him to the guard. Yes, guards, right?"

Jomei nodded.

"We'd have to get that information though. I don't suppose he'd just having it lying about," remarked another man.

"Apparently working for the cause of Light is going to be more complicated than we first thought," Hialmar sighed. "We'll need connections in the trades and in the politics."

"What've we got to offer?" countered the other man dryly. "We can't expect people to help us out of the goodness of their hearts."

The others echoed this sentiment.

"Then ask the younger men to help," she suggested.

"What?" Hialmar asked.

"They're here to fight, right? To defend the demians? Well, maybe they'd be willing to serve as spies."

"It would take weeks to get to the city-states," he countered.

"I can open portals to cut down on travel time."

They discussed this for a few moments. "Very well," said Hialmar. "I'll need to have a town meeting to see if we get any volunteers. Then we'll need to find out how they can be useful."

"It's the best we've got, I think," she replied.

They continued to talk about recruiting the young men until lunch time. The meeting was then adjourned. Before lunch, Hanae caught up with her.

"Excuse me, my Lady, but will you be in your cottage this evening?" she asked, looking a touch anxious and confused.

"Sure. If you like. Why?"

"I have a peculiar matter to discuss with you, and it should be done privately."

"Alright. I'll be there after dinner," she replied, now sharing Hanae's look. Lunch and fighting practice passed as usual, and after dinner she excused herself from the group saying she wanted to look some things over, and returned to her cottage.

About half an hour later, Hanae knocked on the door. She entered carrying a largish bag with her.

"What's this?" Eliora asked, very confused.

"These are your solstice gifts."

"From you?"

"No."

"I don't understand," she replied, opening the bag and laying out the wrapped gifts. Each had a tag with the giver's name on it. "Wait a minute. These are my friends. Why couldn't they have just given me these things?"

"I don't understand either, my Lady. But about a month ago, when the traders left for the winter, many of your friends sought me out and gave me these items. They told me to give them to you, and not to mention to anyone else that they had asked this favor."

There were about twenty-five small boxes on the table. She opened them, and found a variety of trinkets, from silk scarves to small carvings, to sticks of incense.

"I understand it is the custom of humans to give gifts for the winter solstice, but I do not understand why these were given in secret."

"I think I do." She re-packaged all the gifts and put them in the bag. "Thanks, Hanae."

"You're welcome, although I'm not sure what I'm being thanked for." She stood up to leave. "No offense, my Lady, but humans are very strange."

"None taken. I agree with you." The demian left and Eliora stashed the gifts in her closet. Of the young men in the city, only Davin hadn't left a gift with the demian. She wasn't entirely sure of the courtship rituals of the area, but she knew enough to realize if the gifts were delivered in secret, the men had more than simply friendly intentions. She couldn't accept them and she couldn't give them back, so decided to leave them in the closet and not mention them.

On new year's day, Donnan was relieved to find his eyes had gone back to normal. He spent the day making arrangements to get Alain his own apartment, and soon Alain was moved out and into his own place, which was down the hall. Relations were strained, and it was setting him on edge. It was week after the solstice before he could meet with Aolani again, and he thought out very thoroughly what he would say. The first step, he decided, was to equalize the relationship, although he knew that ran the risk of alienating her.

She met him in the foyer of the library as usual. "Hello," she greeted brightly. "I hope you had a good holiday."

"It was fine," he lied.

"I also hope you haven't forgotten too much," she said with a laugh.

"You aren't goin' to give me a quiz, are you?" he asked, looking alarmed.

"No, I wouldn't be quite so cruel."

The tutoring session passed smoothly. When she started to gather up her books, he plucked up his courage and pulled out a small, soft package wrapped in smooth purple paper. "I got you a new year's present. Sorry about bein' late with it."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," she replied, looking just a touch upset.

"Well, that's not the point of presents, is it?"

She smiled nervously. "No, I suppose not." She gingerly opened the package. Inside was a lovely pink, lavender, and pale blue silk scarf. "Oh, my goodness. This is lovely. Thank you," she responded graciously, and carefully re-wrapped it and put it in her pack. "I'm sorry to say I don't have a gift for you."

He didn't expect one, but couldn't help but be disappointed all the same. "That's alright," he lied again. His courage faltered for a moment, but he gathered it back up and asked, "Do you want to go get some coffee?"

"Keep your quiz average up."

"No, Aolani. Wait a second," he sighed, stopping her just outside the library.

"Yes?"

"I like you a lot."

"Yes, but you said you just wanted to be friends," she reminded him.

He cursed himself for ever saying such a thing, but he had worked out a response to this in case she brought it up. "Well, I do. But we only see each other at the library, or as a reward for bein' a good student. I mean, if we're friends, shouldn't we do other stuff together?"

"I suppose we are friends, but I don't think it would be appropriate to include you in my social life since you are my student," she replied.

"Then I'll find another tutor."

She looked startled. "You would?"

"Sure. I don't want to do anythin' that makes you uncomfortable."

This didn't seem to make her feel better. "That's quite considerate of you. Remember, though, I have a busy schedule."

"I know that. I know that." He ran his hands through his hair and tried to keep his tone as accusation-free as possible. "But you make time for your other friends, right?"

"As best I can, certainly."

"So if I'm your friend, why can't you make time for me? Or invite me to join your other friends?"

Her pretty face fell. "It's not that simple."

"Why not? Is it because I'm not good enough for your high-class friends?" he retorted, some anger leaking through.

She looked at him, startled. "Of course not."

"You didn't even introduce me that one time that friend of yours showed up to the coffee shop. Are you ashamed of knowin' me?"

She just stared a moment, then dropped her eyes. "I would like to think not, but you do bring up a good point. I tell myself the reason I don't introduce to you my 'high-class friends,' as you put it, is that they would judge you harshly and look upon you with disdain and contempt. I tell myself that of course I don't do that."

"Aolani, if you think your friends would treat me like that, well, why be friends with them?"

"They're good people," she snapped defensively.

"My brother always said that how good people are is best judged by watchin' how they treat their inferiors, not their equals."

"Your brother is quite wise," she replied quietly. "I suppose you've got the measure of me better than I do. If you think I treat you poorly, why are you trying to be friends with me?"

"I don't think you treat me that badly, all things considered. You're still talkin' to me, aren't you? Sometimes people treat others badly because they just don't know any better. They never stop to think about how they're treatin' others. Not knowin' any better is alright, because that can be fixed. Now, treatin' people badly and knowin' it, that's a whole different matter. But I don't think you're treatin' me this way because you're not nice, I just think maybe you haven't thought about it much."

"So you're giving me the benefit of the doubt and assuming I act out of ignorance rather than malice?"

"Um, yeah, I guess, but it's not as bad as that."

"That's really quite decent of you."

"Nah. It's selfish. Means I might get to spend more time with you," he replied, with a smile, hoping honesty was the best route.

She returned the smile. "Your honesty is refreshing."

"Yes!" he thought.

"I do honestly think, however, that my friends wouldn't like you very much. It's sad, and reflects badly on me, but it's true. I wouldn't want you to endure snide comments about being pitied."

"Well, Aolani, isn't that my choice?" he asked quietly.

A flush crept up her face. "I suppose it is."

"But you're not goin' to introduce me," he guessed, feeling disappointed.

"Would you take me to meet your friends?" she demanded defensively.

"If you wanted to," he stuttered. "But they're not, well, the best kind of people."

"So you think I wouldn't like them just because they're poor?" she replied haughtily.

He sighed. "I don't mean that they're poor like me. I mean they aren't the best kind of people. My best friend's been an acolyte of the Order of Darkness for two years. They're thieves, frankly, and hustlers."

"Well, then, why do you stay friends with them?"

"I never had anythin' on me they could steal," he shrugged. "They aren't bad guys, they've just made bad choices."

"Then why did you say they weren't the best kind of people?"

"You sort of caught me off-guard there. I was tryin' to tell you discreetly that they might cut your purse," he sighed.

Her face was now quite scarlet, out of anger, shame, or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. "I need to go home now. I'll see you next time." She started to quickly walk away.

"Well, I'll know if she's worth all this depending on what she says next time," he thought. "I sure hope she is."

When the time for Donnan's next tutoring session came, he was nervous. He waited in the foyer as usual. Most unusually, however, Aolani was late.

"Godsdammit," he thought. "I guess I was wrong." But he kept waiting anyway.

Fifteen minutes passed, and finally she showed up, shaking snow off her clothes, her cheeks very bright pink. "Sorry about that," she said brightly. "I had some family business that didn't end quite on time. Don't worry, though, I'll stay late. You'll get the full hour's worth." With that, she walked into the library proper.

Feeling a little confused and put out, yet relieved, he followed her. When the hour was finished, she packed up her things and told him to expect a quiz.

"Aolani," he said, when they got outside. "Did you think about what I said?"

It was hard to read her facial expression, as it was mostly hidden by a thick purple scarf. "Yes, I did."

He waited impatiently.

"You are right. Absolutely right. And I'm ashamed at how I've been acting."

"And?" he prompted.

"I would like to make up for my behavior, but I don't quite know how."

"Just treat me like you would any of your other friends. It's not that hard," he replied with an encouraging smile.

"Yes. I suppose it isn't. Or shouldn't be."

"Do you want to be friends with me?"

"I want to try."

"Alright then. But you don't want to introduce me to your friends?" he asked.

"I'm ashamed to admit it, but no. I'm really afraid they would treat you badly, and yes, I'm re-evaluating why they are my friends. But you are a nice person, and you've certainly been very patient with me. More patient than my 'high class friends,' as you put it."

"Then I'll take you to meet my friends first. They might look at you a little funny, but they'll get over it. Just watch your purse."

She looked a little surprised. "What do your friends do?"

"We meet, we talk, we play card games, we have dinner. Sometimes they like to gamble. I usually don't, because I've got no luck and don't like to throw away my money."

"Well, alright. I think we can try that."

"Great," he replied, trying to hide his relief and joy. "You tell me what evenin' your free, and I'll pick you up. You don't want to be walkin' in that neighborhood by yourself."

Now she looked a touch alarmed, but then smiled. "Alright. I think I'd like that." And they made arrangements to meet later than week.

A month passed relatively peacefully in Tallis Marrom. The weather was chilly, but not severely cold. The Azura river had patches of ice, but didn't freeze over completely. Letters were sent out to willing parties in Renfrew and other city-states, and information slowly came back in. Eliora was sent to drop off letters, but not wait around to pick them up, lest her presence be noticed. She worked out travel in the Light Realm easily, although she did wonder how she managed to come to a place she'd never been before just by reading a map. She continued her fight practice and magic practice. Jomei spent a lot of time talking with his superiors, but progress was slow.

After the solstice, a subtle change had come over the young men in the city. Hanae reported to Eliora that she had been asked if she had delivered the gifts as promised. Hanae told them yes, and left it at that. Eliora tried her best to treat them all equally, but she started to notice a bit more bragging when she was around, or fiercer fighting when she was watching them practice. All she could do was ignore their behavior and try to treat them equally, but it was starting to make her uncomfortable.

"Jomei, I grow tired of asking this, but will your brethren help us?" Hialmar sighed at a Council meeting.

"They've sent word that some of the clerics will help, but only if we can guarantee they'll be dealing with agents of the LightBearer," he answered.

"You mean they're afraid of giving information to spies rather than to us?" Eliora asked.

"So it seems."

"It's taken you a month to get that from them?" another man snapped irritably.

"Quiet," Hialmar warned. "Any help will do. But what do they want from us? Papers can be forged. Seals can be duplicated. Pass phrases can be intercepted. Do they really expect every agent of ours to show up personally accompanied by the LightBearer?" he asked, similarly exasperated.

"I don't know," Jomei replied, looking quite uncomfortable.

They tabled the problem and turned their attention to sifting through the available information on suspect merchant movements, but soon they were back to dealing with the issue of guarantees. Tensions were starting to run high when Eliora finally spoke up.

"Jomei, would your superiors be more comfortable if they were dealing with another organization?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, would they feel better dealing with an organization with rules and regulations? Something a bit more official than the people I happened to fall in with?"

He looked even more uncomfortable, but answered, "Yes, I think they would."

The other men scowled at him.

"I was afraid of that. But that's the nature of bureaucracies, and that creates more work for us," she sighed.

"We are organized," Hialmar snapped.

"Yes, but clearly not to the satisfaction of the Order of Light. Does anyone here besides me have experience with bureaucracy?"

The men of the Council looked angry and answered in the negative.

"Jomei?" she inquired.

"Not really. There's a good reason I answered the call to come out here and serve this particular community."

"That's great," she thought. "Alright then. It looks like I'm going to have to talk to a high ranking cleric in Renfrew's Order of Light and assure them that this is not a haphazard operation. So the first thing we'll need is a name. Then we'll need something to identify our members."

"We didn't expect to have organize the whole war to fight the ShadowWalker," Hialmar said tightly, voicing the thought of the entire Council.

"I didn't either, but it seems we're stuck for it, for better or for worse," she replied. "But it appears no one else is willing to take on this burden, even those who may better able to handle this."

Some of the Council were giving Jomei angry looks. He simply looked miserable.

"Godsdammit," Hialmar muttered. "Well, the Lady is right. We're stuck with this, for better or for worse. So, let's just get a name and figure out something we can tell the Order so they'll work with us."

"A name? We aren't some stupid club," grumped another man.

"This is pointless. Don't we have better things to do?" objected another.

They began to bicker amongst themselves.

"Hunters," Eliora suddenly interjected.

"What?" Hialmar asked.

"Hunters. You can call yourselves Hunters."

"Hunters of what?" sneered another.

"Hunters of Darkness, of course. That's what you're going to do, isn't it? Enter dangerous territory and try to find out who's working for the ShadowWalker, and stop them. Most of you are actually hunters, if I remember what Aidan told me. You go out and hunt for food to feed this city. So it's technically true, and I think it sounds quite bold and aggressive. Do you think such a name will get the Order of Light to take us seriously, Jomei?" she asked.

"It certainly is bold. It sounds like you are indeed taking charge of this battle, which, unofficially, is what I think they want anyway."

Bickering started again.

"Shut up!" ordered Hialmar. "It's good enough for me. Now, my Lady, can you so easily come up with some guarantee the Order will accept?"

She calmed herself for a moment, reminding herself that the Council's frustration was not with her. "Papers, seals, and pass words won't do, right?"

He nodded.

She took a deep breath. "I hate to reveal something so personal to these strangers, but it's the best I can think of." Hesitantly, she said, "What about, marks?"

"What kind of marks?" he asked impatiently. "Brands?"

"No, I don't think that's the right word. Marks, of ink, beneath the skin. My people call them 'tattoos.' Something like that?"

The men and Jomei looked bewildered.

With a sigh, she pushed up the sleeve on her right arm. "Like this."

They stared for a moment. Her tattoo was a half inch wide circle of intricate black marks that were cursive letters and ancient symbols in her own language.

"Would it be difficult to imitate something like this?" she asked, feeling quite uncomfortable.

"I've never seen anything like that. That's just ink, under the skin?" Hialmar replied.

"Yes. It's done using special needles."

"We don't have anything like this. I don't think we could, what's the word you used?"

"Tattoo."

"Yes, I don't think we could give any of our people a tattoo," he finished. "And it's also a more obvious mark than I would like."

She pulled her sleeve down. "Maybe something like this, but done by magic?"

"No. I don't trust those damned mages."

"Well, I could do it."

"So then a cleric could do it too."

"No, Hialmar, not exactly. My magic isn't the same as a cleric's. It's not the same as a mage's. It's different. Ask Jomei."

He looked over at the priest.

"She's right. Her brand of magic is unique, not exactly arcane or divine."

"Do you have any idea how to make magic tattoos?" he asked skeptically.

"Not yet. But I'm certainly willing to learn. What better option do we have? It means anyone who wants to become part of the Hunters would have to come through here, because I'm the only one who could endow the marks. That means we have the final control over who becomes our allies."

The men of the Council exchanged glances. This notion seemed to appeal to them.

"Alright, my Lady. Since we're stuck with the leading this Avatar battle, it's only fair we have the final say on who joins us and who doesn't. But this rests on your abilities to figure out how to make these Marks. I don't like wasting time, especially for petty bureaucracy," Hialmar said, directing an angry look at Jomei. "Do you think you can figure this out in a week?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered. "I'll certainly try."

"Fine. If that doesn't work, I'm afraid we're just going to have to take a more forceful approach with the Order."

"We may have to anyway," she returned thoughtfully.

"We'll discuss that tomorrow. It's well past lunch time. Council is dismissed," he snapped.

"Eliora," Jomei said to her a low voice as they filed out of the cottage, "can you do this?"

"I have no idea, frankly. I know what needs to be done. I need a distinctive mark that's invisible unless the bearer wants it to be visible."

"This is going to be complicated, if it's even possible."

"I know, I know. But I've done a lot of things since the equinox without a clear idea of how to actually get them done."

"Yes, but you have to do this to actual living people," he reminded her earnestly.

"Oh, dear. You're absolutely right. Should I try to get into a mage library or something?"

"I don't know. You'd have to clear that with the Council, and that would take more time, and run the risk of someone spotting you."

"Then I'll just have to figure this out on my own. And find some very brave volunteers."

"I'm sure the young men would line up at your door to prove their worth by doing something dangerous," he replied.

She gave him an odd look. "You're teasing me," she accused.

"I do have a sense of humor. Even if this may not be the best time for it. This is deadly serious. You are going to try to impart a permanent magical mark to a living person. I just want you to be fully aware of that, alright?"

She nodded.

"Good luck, then," he said. "I'm not sure which will be more difficult – figuring out how to do this magic, or getting the Council to agree on what the mark should look like without getting upset and angry at me."

She smiled. "How about I just tell them what it's going to be?"

"You're a braver person than I am," he returned, smiling slightly. With that, he went to his own cottage.

She had a late lunch and cut her fighting practice short to go study what few books she had on arcane magic. She knew she wouldn't find anything specific, but she was hoping to get a better idea of how magic actually worked. She ate a fast dinner and returned to her books. Finally she got so frustrated she decided to take a break, and went to the unused watchtower.

No one was there. She swept the snow off and sat down, pulling her cloak around her to block the wind, even though she wasn't cold.

"What're you thinking about?" came Davin's voice suddenly, sometime later.

She jumped. "Oh, just working on a magic problem."

He sat down next to her. "Magic problem? Anything I can help with?"

"Maybe. I'm going to need volunteers."

"Volunteers for what?"

She briefly explained the purpose of the marks. He seemed to have already heard something about the idea, which didn't surprise her given how fast gossip traveled in the community.

"So the Order of Light won't help?" he asked bitterly.

"They will, they just need certain guarantees."

"Sounds like they're just making you jump through hoops."

"I'm not familiar with that expression."

"It means, they're making you do a lot of things to waste time for no good reason."

"I'm sure they will help," she sighed. "I suppose they're just frightened and confused."

"They're supposed to be the spiritual leaders," he returned bitterly.

"They're just people too, Davin. The quality of a person is often shown most clearly in times of distress, not times of peace. Like most bureaucracies, I'm afraid the Order has become complacent. They'll resist changes and try to avoid hardship to maintain their complacency."

"I'm continually amazed at how forgiving you are."

"I'm not completely forgiving. I understand their reluctance, but I'm not going to accept it. This is too important, and I think the clerics themselves are aware of that, even if they don't want to act."

"Instead leaving a bunch of reckless young men and some stubborn old men to try to figure out how to stop the ShadowWalker," he replied, still bitter.

"You forgot to mention the young foreign woman," she commented dryly.

He half-smiled. "How could I forget her? She's got to lead this motley band of troops."

"A task I embrace most unwillingly. But what choice do I have?"

"None, it seems," he agreed.

They stared at the cold, clear sky for a few minutes.

"Why do you have a, what's the word, tattoo?" he asked.

"Has everyone heard about that?"

"It's an odd thing. You know how the rumor mill is."

"Tattoos are a tradition among my people. When a child is three years old, they receive a tattoo on the upper right arm. The tattoo contains their personal name and their family name. It started as a way to unify tribes, and to make sure families didn't marry too closely. When my people settled in cities, the tradition remained."

"So this isn't a strange thing in your society?"

She laughed. "No, of course not. Every child has one. Married people have two."

"Why two?" he asked, looking interested.

"It goes on the left arm, in the same spot. Again, when my people were mostly nomads, women left their families to join the families of their husbands. So they got a new tattoo to show that they were accepted as part of the new tribe. The one on the left arm has their new family name. Men have one on their left arm to show that they've taken on the responsibility of starting a new family, a new branch of the tribe."

"I suppose something permanent and obvious like that also makes sure the spouses can't cheat on each other?"

She nodded.

"I hope this isn't offensive, but can I see this tattoo? I'm really curious."

She blushed a little. "Alright, I guess. It's odd to me for everyone to be so curious about something that's absolutely normal for me." She shoved her sleeve up some difficulty due to the extra layers of clothing and held her arm to the lamplight. The black marks showed up starkly even against her dark brown skin.

"That's really fascinating," he said, turning her arm gently this way and that. "Alright, pull that down before you catch cold."

She did so.

"Is that writing?"

"It's an older version of our common language."

"What does it say?"

She pulled her sleeve back up. "This is my name," she explained, pointing. "This is my family name."

"That's looks like an awful lot of ink just to spell out your name."

"Spelling out my name would be smaller, yes, but this also spells out the meaning of my name," she replied.

"Meaning?"

"Yes. Names are chosen very carefully in my society, and all names have a specific meaning assigned to them, sometimes many meanings. After all, people are first known by their names. Your society doesn't do this?"

"Not that I'm aware of. What does your name mean?"

She considered this request rather more carefully than she might have otherwise because of the attention she was being shown by the young men of the city. However, Davin had always treated her on his own terms, and that hadn't changed as far as she could tell since the solstice. "Well, first of all, it means 'daughter of Lior.'"

"Lior is your father?"

She nodded. "Generally the first child is named after the father. My name also means," she paused for a moment to work out the proper translation, "'she who walks in golden sunlight.'"

He gave her odd look.

"Yes, it's supposed to sound a bit poetic. 'She who walks in golden sunlight,' 'song like falling summer rain,' and 'child of hope.' The last one was added at the insistence of the church, now that I think about it. How strange."

"They all seem to fit, I think," he remarked. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're the first one to ask, although I expect Jomei may later once we work out this business of magical marks."

"You should have no trouble finding volunteers."

She gave him a curious look. "Does that mean you'd volunteer, or you think the other young men will volunteer?"

"Oh, they'll volunteer, and probably fall all over each other to be first in line. Haven't you noticed?" he asked, sounding a little impatient.

"Of course," she answered in a quiet voice. "I'm not oblivious. I just don't know what to do about it. I can already feel tensions starting to increase, and I don't want to get between anyone's friendships. Right now, I'm just ignoring it as best I can and treating everyone the same."

"Sounds like the only way to keep the peace," he agreed. "But it isn't going to last."

"No, but if things go well, the young men will be sent to other cities to gather information for the Hunters, and that should relieve the tensions somewhat."

"I suppose it would. Most would jump at a chance to show their worth as a warrior for the forces of Light, and a way to impress you besides," he replied, bitterness creeping into his voice again.

"They made their choices. And I hope they don't make this choice because of some desire to impress me. This is dangerous and deadly serious."

Silence elapsed for nearly an hour as Eliora half-meditated on the problem.

"We should go in. I'm cold, which means it's late," he suddenly said.

"I suppose you're right."

She went first, still cautious about going down. He put out the lamp and scrambled down in near total darkness.

"When you think you've worked out this mark business, let me know."

"You'll be a volunteer?" she asked, a little surprised.

"If the priest won't do it. I think there might be trouble if you asked anyone else. But no one bothers with me or where I go, so you could do what you needed in relatively secrecy," he replied, sounding perfectly cool and casual.

"Well, thank you."

He smiled. "Just don't hurt me, alright?"

Something about this question struck her as though he was asking something else again, but she just answered the surface question. "I never try to hurt anyone. But I'm not exactly a trained mage here. I'm really working this whole thing out as I go."

"I have faith in you, Eliora." With a subtle look to make sure no one else was in sight, he kissed the back of her hand gently. "Goodnight." Then he quickly walked away.

She sighed, feeling confused as she sometimes did after spending time with him, then returned to her cottage, her mind very much on the magic problem.

Nearly a month passed quietly in Renfrew as winter deepened. The skies were overcast every day, and the snow piled up into large drifts on the sides of the streets. Donnan was so elated that Aolani agreed to see him more often that he barely paid attention to the errands the Order was giving him. Alain noticed he seemed a good mood more often, and that helped ease the tensions between them. He managed to take her out about once a week to the Black Goblet. As he expected, his friends seemed puzzled that a person from her social class was in the neighborhood, but they accepted her fairly quickly. Soon they were teaching her how to gamble properly and cheat at cards. Blake was quietly supportive of the situation, if a little smug. Donnan usually took her home early enough to get her there by midnight.

"You're turnin' into a pretty good card player," he commented as they walked through the quiet, dark streets. The only sound were their voices and the snow crunching under their boots.

"Well, I've always been lucky."

"There's that, but you're also gettin' good at bluffin'."

She blushed. "That's because I look honest and innocent."

"I'm not makin' that mistake again. I can't believe you bluffed with a pair of sevens. I had a sequence, dammit."

She laughed. "It worked with the others, too."

"Good thing you're too nice to really take their money, or else they might start cheatin'."

"Then I'll just have to cheat back, right?"

He smiled. "Yep. That's how the game is played."

"I must thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"Introducing me to a new world. And showing me that your friends are not so different from mine, at least not in your activities. But so very different in attitude. I was honestly afraid they would assume I was stuck up and shun me."

"Nah. They don't care so much about social rank. No one's got any, so it's not important. Now, if you were flauntin' your money or your stuff, then they might have gotten upset. Course, it's just plain common sense not to be flauntin' money in a place like that."

They were coming into a somewhat less seedy neighborhood, as evidenced by the slightly wider street that had been swept free of snow, at least in the middle.

"Of course. Still, the place seems very, well, civilized. I honestly would have expected such a place to absolutely filthy and have bar fights every night, or murders taking place in the corner tables. I'm sure there are a number of illegal dealings that happen there, but it's done discreetly."

A couple of suspicious looking characters slinked by in a hurry.

Donnan noted that they were using the middle of the street, which was odd because it left them out in the open, and they didn't look like they were particularly keen to be noticed. "Well, that just goes to show you, you can't judge place or people by appearances. It's a dangerous place, and I don't ever recommend you go there alone, but bein' poor doesn't mean we aren't civilized," he replied, trying not to take offense.

Two more shady looking fellows quickly followed the first two, also scurrying down the middle of the street.

"Yes, I know that. Or at least that's what I always thought. But now I feel I really understand that. And I think I'm getting a much clearer picture of the discrepancies between the rich and the poor in our society."

Now they could hear shouts and the sound of heavy boots crunching on the snow, which could only mean that a pack of guards was rapidly bearing down on them. Almost without thinking, Donnan pulled back into the shadows, and gently moved Aolani with him to the side of the street.

Three guards turned out of an alleyway and stopped to look around, panting heavily.

"Godsdammit," one puffed. "The tracks are gone."

"They must have used the middle of the street," said another. "Damn."

Donnan frowned, recognizing the voice of the leader. "What in darkness is Reese doing on night patrol? I thought Alain was going to try to get him kicked out of the guard." Then he noticed Aolani was also frowning.

"Let's go," she said softly, and started walking away from the guards.

They didn't get very far before the guards spotted them.

"Hey, you there!" one called. "Halt."

"Oh, well," she sighed.

The wind started to pick up as the three men approached them.

"Excuse me, but did you see a pair of men acting suspicious come this way?" Reese asked, clearly not recognizing either of them.

They turned to face him.

"Aolani?" he stuttered.

"We saw four men, actually," she answered calmly. "One pair came out of the same alleyway you did and ran down the street in that direction. Another pair followed not five minutes later."

He seemed momentarily stunned.

"Uh, Reese, do we follow them?" asked one.

"What, are you crazy? They've gone into the Gutters. There's only three of us and we've got no back-up in that neighborhood. We wouldn't stand a chance. Godsdammit. At ease then. Take a break, catch your breath."

The two men huddled together, brought out their hip flasks, and started to roll up some pipe leaves in paper to smoke. Donnan noted that these men were not the same ones Reese had with him on previous encounters. He hoped that was a good sign.

He turned his attention back to Aolani. "What are you doing here?"

"Walking home."

"Walking home from where?" He glanced down the street. "You were hanging out in the Gutters?"

"Hey, Reese, got any matches?" asked one.

He rolled his eyes. "Check your pockets again. I gave you some yesterday."

The guard patted down his jacket. "Oh, right." He then lit up the pipe leaf rolls for him and his companion.

"Excuse me, please, but I must get on my way home," she said, and tried to side-step him.

He moved to intercept her. "What in blazes were you doing in the Gutters?"

"Seeing some friends, not that it's any of your business. Now excuse me, but the wind is starting to pick up and I don't want to catch cold."

He stepped in front of her again. Donnan was right at her elbow, but he didn't seem to have noticed. "What friends have you got that hang out in that neighborhood?"

"It's none of your business. Now, please move."

"We can go another way," Donnan said in a low voice. "And leave the guards to their smoke break."

She nodded.

Now Reese took notice of her companion. "Hey, I remember you. That skinny dishwasher. This is who you're keeping company with?" he demanded, sounding angry.

"It's none of your business who I keep company with. It hasn't been for months. Now, you will excuse me," she snapped, and turned to walk away.

Reese reached out his arm to stop her, but Donnan had good reflexes, and he caught the guard's wrist.

"I believe the lady wants to leave now," Donnan growled.

She quickly moved a few steps away before turning to see what was happening.

He jerked his wrist away, looking both frightened and angry. "I'll have you arrested for assaulting a guardsman."

"Oh, no, you won't," Aolani returned. "I'll vouch for Donnan, and tell the investigator that he thought he was protecting me."

He glared at her. "Oh, you would? Really?"

She stared him down. "You know I would."

After a few moments, he stalked away. "Put those things out," he barked. "We've got work to do."

The guards hastily stamped out their rolls and followed him.

"Thank gods," she sighed, suddenly looking a little faint. "I'm glad that worked."

"Wait, were you bluffin'?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes."

"You mean you wouldn't have vouched for me?"

"No, no, I would have. But I didn't want him to make me do that. I'm sorry, it's complicated."

"What in darkness is wrong with that guy? Gods." He started to lead her down a different route to get her home.

She sighed. "He and I have been friends a long time."

"Really?"

"Sure. We went to the same school. We knew the same people. He was just part of my group of friends. When he decided to enter the guard, and we all knew he would make it, he started to court me directly. We were together for several months. Our families thought it was a great match, and we had even started talking marriage."

He looked at her, now quite surprised.

But she was looking down at the ground, and didn't notice. "Then something happened. He started to change. I don't know if there were problems at home, or if I had never really seen his true self. He took to drinking more often that I approve of, and started to spend more time with his friends from the guard. Still, I ignored the warning signs. Then I heard he had been starting fights while he was out. I don't like fighting when it seems warranted, and I can't tolerate unnecessary trouble-making. I started to ask about this, and he made his excuses, but I kept looking into the matter, which is why I talked to your brother in the first place. By about that time, I knew I was going to break it off with him, but I wanted to be absolutely sure it was the right decision. As you can imagine, he didn't take it very well."

He could hear the slight quaver in her voice. "Did you love him?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. I don't think so, although I was perhaps starting to when he began changing. By the end of the relationship, I certainly didn't like him very much. I ended up losing him as a friend. The really sad part is I don't think I lost much of a friendship anyway."

He put an arm around her and gave her a gentle, reassuring hug. "I'm real sorry, Aolani. It's tough when friends break their trust."

She looked at him, tears glistening in her eyes. "Thank you. I'm really sorry about this. It seems you and he have some history too. I didn't mean to get you or your brother involved in my troubles when I asked about the fights."

"Yeah, I know. I don't blame you. It's his fault. He's the one goin' out and started fights, lookin' for people to mess with."

She sighed. "I know. But I don't think breaking my relationship with him improved his disposition."

"Well, if it wasn't you, it'd probably be another woman that set him off, if he was goin' to go. You know?"

She nodded. "Thanks again for listening to me."

"Hey, that's what friends do, right?"

She smiled. "Yes, I suppose so." She turned the conversation to lighter subjects until they reached her house. She gave him a polite goodnight and went inside.

He went to his apartment and stuffed a note under Alain's door telling him that he wanted to talk with him as soon as possible.

Donnan was awakened the next morning by a knock on his door. He opened and found his brother standing there, looking tired and dirty.

"Will this take long?" he asked.

"I don't know. But I'll at least put some tea on for you."

"Thanks," Alain replied, and dropped into a chair.

He quickly drew some water and put the kettle on. Then he made breakfast for the both of them.

"Thanks, little brother," he yawned, then started to tuck in.

Donnan stared at his own breakfast, not feeling particularly hungry but knowing he needed to eat.

"So what's the problem?"

"I thought you were goin' to get Reese thrown out of the guard," he replied angrily.

"What brought that on?"

"I ran into him last night when I was walkin' Aolani home. He was with a couple of other guards, and there were chasin' some guys when they ran into us. The guys got away, but Reese was mighty interested in knowin' what she was doin' in that neighborhood. I thought you were goin' to get him thrown out."

"I said I would try. Last I heard, he'd been taken off regular patrol duty."

"Yeah, and apparently promoted," he said bitterly.

Alain sighed. "I did the best I could. Night patrol is hard work, harder than that pretty boy is used to, I guarantee. I'll bet he don't think it's a promotion."

"Yeah, well, but it is, isn't it?"

"I'll tell you this. If he screws this up, he's got no more chances. You don't screw up on night patrol. You do, and someone gets hurt. I'm real surprised to hear he was even chasin' after suspects."

"So you don't care that he got promoted after gettin' in trouble?"

"Course I do. But what can I do about it now? I made complaints, and got some of the other guys to make their complaints too. Someone looked at the problem or else he wouldn't have been transferred. Yeah, I know, I would have been out on my rear if I did half the stuff he did, but I'm not him, and he's not me. We got to take what we can get. Like I said, I'll bet he don't think this is a promotion. He's a useless pretty boy that never had to work a day in his life. Now he's runnin' down criminals, stayin' out all night in the freezin' cold, and cut off from his friends 'cause he's got to sleep durin' the day. Gettin' thrown out and disgraced would've been easier than actually makin' him work," Alain replied, with a wicked smile.

He stared at his brother a moment, then returned the wicked smile. "You're right. You're absolutely right. He didn't look like he was used to runnin' last night. He's afraid to down into the Gutters."

"Yeah, that's another thing. It's not like he got some soft neighborhood to go patrol if he was nearin' the Gutters. Nope, whoever gave him this job knows it's more a punishment than a promotion."

"But if he cleans up his act, it means no one'll know how awful he is."

"If he cleans up his act, that's all that really matters to the guard. And if he does, good for him. Maybe he'd even be less of a jackass. But I'm not holdin' my breath."

"Me neither. I'm afraid I haven't heard the end of this."

Alain sighed. "I don't think he'd do anythin' with Aolani around though."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Then be careful."

"I always am. I can take better care of myself in that neighborhood than he can."

"That's not exactly what I meant, little brother," he replied, his expression now very serious. "I meant be careful you don't lose control and do somethin' you'll really regret later."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

There was a moment of tense silence.

"Well, anyway, tell me what you've been doin' out on patrol," Donnan said.

Alain gladly switched topics, and they talked until he got too tired and went to his own apartment to sleep. Donnan went to work, trying not to think too much about the guardsman.

Eliora spent every night for five days in her cottage, pouring over her tiny library of books on magic, and praying to the Light One to find a solution.

When she woke up the next morning, it was as though her mind had been working on the problem all night and she was certain of how to impart a magical mark. Quickly she wrote down the process so she wouldn't forget. She just needed her volunteer.

After the Council meeting, she headed off Jomei. "I think I can do it," she stated in a low voice.

"Are you sure?"

"No. But I need a volunteer."

"You're asking me to volunteer?" he said, sounding amused.

"Well, yes."

"How long will this take?"

"I don't really know."

"Do you think this will interfere with the divine magic I channel?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," she replied.

"Eliora, maybe you haven't thought this out as well as you need to."

"But Jomei, if I don't test this out, the Council's going to start fighting again and you're going to get the brunt of their anger because of your brethren."

"Yes, I know. But I would rather they get angry at me for something I didn't do than angry at you because you did something careless. I'm sorry, but it sounds to me like you have some work to do."

She watched him walk away, quite discouraged. She was a little more intense in fighting practice than usual because she was frustrated, and again she declined to join the young men for games, and went to her cottage for research. And as usual she got frustrated and wandered over to the watchtower. It was empty.

About an hour later, she heard the soft sound of boots crunching on snow.

"This must be a difficult problem. You've been here every night this week. The others are starting to wonder what you're up to," Davin remarked.

"I told Aidan I had work to do for the Council."

"And that's what he's told the other young men too."

"And they don't believe him?"

He shrugged. "Not my business. I'm just letting you know what's going on."

She gave him a sharp look, but he didn't seem to notice. "I think I've solved the magic problem."

"But you need a volunteer?" he guessed shrewdly.

She nodded.

"And the priest won't do it?"

"I don't have the solution worked out to his satisfaction."

"Well, how long will it take?"

"I don't know."

"Will it interfere with other magic?"

"I don't think so," she answered, slightly annoyed he was echoing Jomei's questions. "I'm sure it'll work. And I really don't want to go to the Council tomorrow with nothing."

"Well, I don't blame you for that. But how can you do something if you really don't know how it works?"

"That's how I've done everything so far. I've just willed things to happen, and the magic followed. I haven't needed prayers or spells so far."

"That's true enough." He sighed. "Alright, you can test this out on me. But I hope it's quick or else I'm going to get really cold sitting out here with my arm exposed."

"Really? You'll let me do this? You aren't afraid I've gotten this all wrong and will accidentally hurt you?"

"I'm willing to take those risks. I've got no reason to think you can't do this, given what I've seen so far. You stopped a wildfire, and I'm guessing you made that flaming sword."

She nodded.

"Surely this won't be that difficult. But what sort of Mark is this going to be?"

"Oh, I forgot to ask the Council what they wanted. Darn it. That'll probably take up a whole meeting in and of itself."

"So you just pick something, and tell them what it is. You're the leader, aren't you?"

"Yes, I suppose I am. Alright. What's most symbolic of a hunter in this region of the world?"

"A bow and arrow," he answered promptly.

"That was easy. The Mark of the Hunters shall be in the shape of a bow."

"If I get this thing, does it mean I've joined the organization?" he asked.

She laughed. "Not if you don't want to. Just don't show it to anyone on the Council. Now, pull up your left sleeve."

With only a little trepidation, he did so. "Where are you putting this?"

"Above your left elbow."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I figured an arm was the easiest place to put it. Now, hold still." She pulled off her glove, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Magic started to build in the air, and she started to glow faintly with an odd, gold light.

Davin was surprised, but kept quiet.

She went over the process on her mind, thinking of all the characteristics she wanted the Mark to have, all the subtle layers of enchantment that had to fit together perfect to create one complex effect. She gently traced out the shape of a bow on his arm above the elbow. The Mark glowed gold for a moment, then faded after she released him. "How long did that take?" she asked, opening her eyes.

"About five minutes. But there's nothing there."

"Of course not. I didn't want the Mark to be obvious. Just rub your hand over it for a second and think about making it appear."

"Alright," he replied skeptically. He rubbed his arm, as instructed, and then moved his hand. "Hey, it's there," he remarked, clearly surprised. After a moment, it faded away again.

"You shouldn't sound so shocked," she said in a teasing voice. "I knew I could do it. And I see no reason why such a thing should interfere with using other magic."

He tugged his sleeve back down and shivered. "Glad I could be of service. But don't ask me to show the Council this. I don't want them thinking I want to actually be a Hunter, whatever that is."

"Of course not." After a moment, she ventured a question. "Why don't you want to be a Hunter?" she asked cautiously.

"I'm not a warrior, not for the demians, and not for the LightBearer," he replied harshly. "No offense to you personally."

"Of course not." After a few minutes, she said, "We should do something. I'm so pleased this actually worked I feel like celebrating or something. I think I'll head to the dining hall and beat some people at chess." She stood up and headed to the branches. "Are you coming?" she asked.

"No thanks," he replied, staring at the sky.

Frowning slightly, she descended the ladder and went to the dining hall. The young men seemed pleased to see her, and she was immediately dealt into a card game. She went to bed at a decent hour and fell into a dreamless sleep.

"Well, my Lady, your time is up. What have you got for us?" Hialmar asked immediately.

"I have figured out a way to endow a magical Mark on a willing subject."

Jomei gave her a quizzical look. "How long does this take?"

"Only about five minutes, and I'm sure it won't interfere with other magic. And I'm ready to demonstrate if I can have a volunteer," she answered quickly, hoping to avoid any questions about whether she had already done tests. She wanted to respect Davin's privacy, but she didn't want to outright lie.

The men looked a little apprehensive, but Hialmar came forward. "Alright. I'll go first. What do I need to do?"

"Pull up your left sleeve and allow me to concentrate."

He did so, and in five minutes, the golden bow Mark was set on his arm.

"Just rub your hand over the area for a few seconds, think about making it appear, and it will be visible for about ten seconds," she explained.

"That's amazing," Jomei commented after Hialmar demonstrated its effectiveness. "Will this be permanent?"

"It ought to be, although I confess I have no way of knowing that for sure."

"Why did you pick a bow?" the priest asked.

"It's what hunters in this area use, right?"

He nodded. "Very good."

"Well, Jomei, will this satisfy your brethren?" Hialmar asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Good. Then Eliora will go talk to them tomorrow."

"So soon?" he blurted, surprised.

"It's already taken a lot longer than I wanted," he replied, a bit angrily.

"I should warn them."

"If you can do it by tomorrow, go ahead. But Hialmar is right. We've wasted a lot of time. I'll go tomorrow," Eliora spoke up. "We need as many allies within the trades as we can get before the spring thaw, when their activity is sure to increase."

The next day, Jomei told the Council that the Order was expecting Eliora, and gave her a time to show up at the main Temple of Day in Renfrew. He also advised her to wear a proper dress, she guessed so that she would look less foreign and less rural. She was cautioned by everyone to be careful in case the ShadowWalker was around, and she was instructed to appear and disappear directly in the building, in the main worship room. A little before midday in Tallis Marrom, she vanished.

The building she entered was made of white stone and two stories high. The main worship room's ceiling was the full two stories, supported with graceful stone arches. The spandrels were decorated with intricate, knot-like carvings. The floor was made of gray, square stone tiles. The arch-shaped windows were at the height of the second story, and were set with clear glass panes cut with slight, clever angles designed to scatter light across the room. The room was divided in half, with solid wooden benches stretching back from the altar to the main double doors. The double doors were a pale wood, decorated with the same knot-like carvings. The sides of the benches also bore these carvings. The altar area was raised up a few inches from the rest of the floor. The altar itself was a massive piece of solid white marble with a few streaks of gold running through it. In front of the altar was a wooden podium, which she assumed held up the Book of Sol for services. The back of the altar was covered in tapestries with abstract knot-like patterns in rich hues of purple and blue, with silver and gold threads. To the right of the altar on the eastern side was the Wall of Jubilation, a three-tiered wooden shelf system, again intricately carved, that held rows of different colored candles. To the left was the Wall of Lament, an identical shelf system with subtly tinted black candles.

"This is so opulent," she thought, taking in her surroundings and remembering the temples in Nahaar. All of them had been identical in style and furnishing. Even the largest temple, the two-story main building at the center of the city, had a worship room that was only one story, and it contained long, low cushions for seating, much larger Walls, a smaller altar, and no decoration of any kind. Seeing no one around, she walked up to the shelves. "The Walls haven't even been used. They don't even have incense or fire-starters. What a waste of money to put all these up and not use them." Then she noticed the two normal-sized doors on the back wall of the altar area, near the side walls. "I thought Jomei told me the clerics here were taught to counsel people. But these doors are nearly hidden. Do they not want visitors?"

The door on the left suddenly opened, and a short, skinny, pale, priestess walked out. She was wearing the robes of an acolyte and looked to be Eliora's age, or a little younger. "Excuse me, miss, but the temple is closed for services right now. Please leave and note the sign on the door." Her tone was unmistakably condescending.

Eliora realized she still had her hood up. She lowered it. "I have an appointment to see the head of your Order today."

The acolyte gave her an appraising look, her watery green eyes resting mostly on Eliora's dark complexion and braided black hair. "I think you may be mistaken."

"Did Jomei forget to tell these people what I look like?" she thought. "Or did he forget that it might matter?" With a frown, she replied, "I'm not mistaken. The priest Jomei of Tallis Marrom should have warned the Head Priest of my arrival. I was told to come here at this time."

"Well, no one told me," she replied haughtily.

Now Eliora was starting to get a little upset, but she kept calm. "Iridescent," she called in the Light language.

One appeared beside her.

The pale acolyte gasped.

"Can you find the Head Priest of this Order for me?"

"Yes, Mistress," it replied, and disappeared.

"How-how did you do that?" asked the girl, looking confused.

She didn't answer.

The acolyte scurried off without another word.

In less than a minute, the iridescent returned.

"I have found this priest."

"Lead me to him."

The creature bowed, and both of them vanished.

It lead her to a door in the back of the temple building. As she raised her hand to knock, the acolyte she had met turned a corner in quite a hurry. She stopped upon seeing Eliora already there.

"Can I-can I go in first?" she asked in a small voice.

Graciously, she backed away from the door.

The acolyte knocked.

"What?" came a male voice.

"Um, she's here, sir."

The door was jerked open, and there stood a short, rather skinny, pale faced-man in his fifties, with graying blond hair, hazel eyes, a mustache and graying beard that didn't quite hide a weak chin. He was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses and robes that were much more elaborate than the acolyte's, and even to Eliora's untrained eye, more expensive. He then bowed deeply. "My Lady. Please, come in." He shot an angry look to the acolyte. "You may go now."

She bowed nervously and scurried off again. The family resemblance between the acolyte and priest was unmistakable.

The office was large and elaborately furnished. Three walls were built in shelves of rich, red wood, stuffed full of leather bound books and scrolls in scroll cases. The desk was also of red wood, and the chairs were upholstered in brown leather. The stone floor was covered with a green and gold carpet. There were windows on one wall, the same style and cut as the main worship room. She guessed that this office was on the second floor.

He took a seat at the large, plush chair behind the desk and gestured for her to sit as well. "I'm High Priest Derry, head of the Order of Light in Renfrew." The only thing on his desk was a large book, bound in white leather with gold embossing on the cover and gold lining the pages. She guessed this was the copy of the Book of Sol used for services.

"My name is Eliora. I'm really rather confused. I thought Jomei informed you that I would be coming today. He even told me you would be expecting me at this time."

He had a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "There must have been a miscommunication."

"Well, I hope that won't happen again," she replied kindly, but fully aware of his tone.

"My brother Jomei has been requesting that we aid you in your fight against this ShadowWalker."

"My fight? 'This ShadowWalker?'" she thought. She lowered her eyes a bit and peered into the man's soul. The Darkness was slightly stronger than the Light.

"We've been asking that he send us some guarantee that we will be working only with agents of the LightBearer, but so far I'm afraid none of his suggestions have been to the standards we would like to protect ourselves," he continued, fanning himself slightly but otherwise oblivious to her soul-search. "Should you have this guarantee, we'll put our resources and influence to your disposal as best we can."

"I see," she replied, stopping the search and meeting his eyes. "Before we get down to business, though, I would like to ask you a few questions about your lovely temple," she said in a perfectly polite voice. Her eyes, however, were starting to get the same angry glint they had when she had taken over the Council on the solstice.

"Oh, well, of course you may ask. We clerics take great pride in our temples, especially this main one. Does brother Jomei even have a proper temple?" he asked, disdain evident in his voice.

"No, he does not, but I've seen the temples in my native land. Where do you get the money for all those lovely tapestries?" She half-expected him to take offense at this question, but he seemed eager to answer.

"All the furnishings and improvements to our temples come from the donations and tithing of our congregation. It is a testament to the work we do here that our congregation is so generous."

"Do you get any money from the local government?"

"Of course not," he replied haughtily. "We keep religion and government separate to keep the Order free of political corruption."

Now she felt she understood the head priest and the way the Order worked. In her native land, the tithes were taken in as part of the taxes and direct donations were strictly prohibited to try to keep the Order as objective as possible when advising the government. "Yes, I see. I have no more questions about your Order."

"Well, I'm glad to have helped," he replied amiably, seemingly oblivious to her rising temper.

"He's not going to listen to a thing I say," she thought. "I'm going to have to bluff him as I did the Council, but I have to be careful. The ShadowWalker may be in this very city, and I don't want to attract attention." She straightened up, set her shoulders back, met the priest's eyes and addressed him. "High Priest, why do you call this my fight, as though you are nothing but a bystander? Why do you use the proper title of ShadowWalker? Jomei does not, because as a priest of Light he fears the Darkness. Do you not fear the Darkness?"

He looked quite taken aback at this sudden change of attitude. He flushed, then appeared to get angry. "I've been receiving messages for months now from Jomei telling me of these Avatars and this battle and frankly I don't believe a word of it. I'm honestly quite surprised that anyone showed up at this appointed time. No one should have been able to enter without my knowing it."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You don't believe him? You don't believe your own god?"

"My god has never mentioned anything like to this to me," he replied coldly.

"When was the last time you actually tried praying?" she shot back.

He stood up behind the desk. "That's none of your business," he snapped. "Now, you had better tell me exactly who you are, what you're doing here, and how you got here, or I'm going to call the guard in and have you arrested for trespassing."

For a moment, she just couldn't react. This was so far outside her expectations that her mind and body seemed numbed.

"Well?"

She donned the shining Armor. "I am the LightBearer," she replied, her voice starting to rumble. "I am the Chosen Avatar of the Light One."

Derry stumbled backwards.

She was starting to glow slightly and her eyes turned white. "I am here to enlist the aid of your Order in fighting the ShadowWalker, Chosen Avatar of the Dark One. I got here through the magic I wield from the god. The ShadowWalker is making his plans, no doubt, and while the Hunters are loyal and determined, we do not have the connections and resources of the Order of Light. My Hunters are organized and willing, and I have a way to set a Mark on my allies that is impossible to imitate, duplicate, detect, or remove." She took a step forward. "High Priest Derry of the Order of Light, will you truly aid me in our battle against the forces of Darkness?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

She blinked a few times. "This the head of the Order? Has this man ever actually felt the presence of his own god?" With a sigh, she changed back to her dress. She set him in the chair and opened up the drawers, looking for some sort of healing kit. When she found none, she opened the door of the study.

"Excuse me?" she called to no one in particular.

But in a moment, a sixty-something priestess emerged from an adjacent study. "Can I hope you?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yes. I need smelling salts and a thick blanket brought here immediately."

The priestess was clearly confused, but she walked down the hallway and in a few minutes returned with the requested items.

"Thank you," she said graciously.

The priestess bowed. "Of course, my Lady."

"Wait, you know who I am?"

"Indeed I do. Some of us take Jomei's messages more seriously than Derry does. You put the appropriate fear of god in him, I take it?"

Eliora nodded. "I wish it hadn't come to that."

"Don't be, not with Derry. When you come to the point that you want to make plans using the Order, ask him to call a meeting of the Elders."

"I will do that."

The priestess bowed again, and entered her study.

Eliora put the blanket around the still unconscious head priest to guard against shock, then gently waved the smelling salts under his nose.

He awoke with a start. "What? What happened?" Then he saw Eliora sitting in the chair. "Oh. Oh god."

She just smiled. "We need to talk, High Priest. And I suggest you call of a meeting of the Elders."

"Elders? Oh. Alright," he replied, still dazed. "It'll, er, take some time."

"I can wait."

"Oh." He pulled the blanket around him tightly and stood up. "Just wait here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

In about an hour, a different acolyte knocked on the door and she was lead to a meeting room. There were thirteen clerics waiting for her, with Derry sitting at the head of the a long table, still wrapped in the blanket. The priestess in the adjacent study was present.

Eliora took the vacant seat at the end of the table. Seeing that the head priest appeared to be in no condition to actually run the meeting, she took a deep breath, calmed herself, and started to explain the situation. She also took a quick peek at their souls, although she knew it was rude and intrusive. At the end of her explanation, about half looked surprised and nearly panicked, and the other half seemed to have expect this news and merely looked a bit apprehensive.

Eldoris, the priestess who had the study adjacent to the head priest then took over the meeting and introduced all the Elders. Derry seemed content to huddle in his blanket and look miserable. Plans were made about what to do in Renfrew directly, messages were readied to be sent to the Orders of the other city-states, and after over three hours, the meeting was adjourned.

"Thank you, Priestess Eldoris," Eliora said after the other clerics filed out, most of them in a dazed state.

"Thank you, child." She shut the door, leaving them alone in the room. "For much too long has our Order neglected its proper duties. Thank you for reminding us of where our loyalties should truly lie."

"If it's not too personal a question, why aren't you the head of this Order? You seem much more qualified."

"Politics, my Lady. His family is old and established. Mine is not."

"I met an acolyte who bears a strong resemblance to Derry. Also politics?"

"His youngest daughter, and in my unofficial opinion, completely unsuited to the Order. But I'm not in charge of these matters."

"And unofficially you'll be in charge of this?"

The old woman nodded. "There are those of us who still recognize what the Order is supposed to do, and recognize that High Priest Derry is completely unsuited for the task at hand. You may have to contend with his ego again."

"I've had to do that rather a lot lately," she sighed. "I fear I'm getting good at it."

Eldoris smiled. "Such is life, my Lady."

"Thank you again. I must go now and report to the Hunters, and to Jomei."

"Give him my regards."

"I'll do that," she replied, bowed, and vanished.

Nearly two weeks passed in Renfrew before Donnan managed to talk Aolani into meeting with his friends. They still met for tutoring, but their run in with the guard seemed to have bothered her in more ways than she was willing to talk about.

"Aolani, what's wrong?" he asked as he walked her home. A light snow was falling, muffling the few sounds that came from the mostly empty streets. "Are you gettin' hassled by Reese?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Then are you gettin' hassled by your friends for slummin'?" he asked shrewdly.

She looked up at him, a bit startled. "A little, yes," she admitted.

"Why didn't you just tell me? Call me shallow, but I kind of expected that sort of reaction when they found out where you were goin'."

"I guess I just expected better. They are my friends, after all."

"Well, give them time. I'm sure they'll come 'round."

"Do you really mean that?"

"They're your friends. What do you think?"

She smiled a little. "I'll think they'll come around. They're not bad people."

"Then there's no reason to be upset. You just got to be patient."

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up."

"That's what friends do, right?"

"I suppose so." She turned the conversation to games she wanted to teach the group. She was explaining the rules of chess to him when a stray sound caught his attention.

He halted her and put a finger to his lips. With his other hand he gripped his dagger.

She looked puzzled, and a bit frightened, as they still hadn't reached a decent neighborhood.

From around the corner came the hulking shape of three familiar people. Donnan released his grip on the dagger. "Gods, Reese, don't you and your friends have somethin' better to do?" he snapped impatiently, recognizing the other two guards as the ones that he nearly beaten him to death.

"I'm not here to talk to you," he snarled, his words slightly slurred. "I want to talk to Aolani."

"And why must you do it in this neighborhood in the middle of the night?" she asked, also looking impatient. "It's dark, it's cold, and I want to get home, thank you very much. If you want to talk to me, you can come by the Golden Quill tomorrow after I finish teaching. Excuse us." This time, however, she just took a few steps backward instead of turning her back on the guards.

The guard tried to take a few steps forward, but Donnan blocked his path. The wind started to pick up, and he could strongly smell alcohol. "You should go home now," he growled.

"You can't tell me what to do," he snapped, and pushed him a little.

Donnan didn't move. "I'm not tellin' you, I'm strongly advisin' it. This isn't a good place to start trouble, even if you are a guard."

"Reese, be sensible," admonished Aolani. "This is not the time nor the place. I already told you I'd meet you tomorrow."

He seemed to back down. "Right. Right. Tomorrow."

"Yes. The Golden Quill," she confirmed, relieved.

Donnan took a few steps backward and quite reluctantly turned his back on the three guards, bracing for an impact.

And the impact came. The other two guards grabbed him from behind and Reese took Aolani's arm quite forcefully. She had enough sense not to scream, but she was clearly frightened.

"Reese, what are you doing?" she demanded.

One guard was on each arm, and while they weren't doing anything to him, he couldn't go anywhere.

"I want to talk privately," Reese replied.

"You're drunk," she accused. "And so are they. This is not a good idea. We'll meet tomorrow. I'll even write you a note so you don't forget." She twisted out of his grip. "Now, you let him go, and I'll overlook this incident as another poorly thought out drunken episode."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Reese grabbed her again. "Dammit, Aolani, I told you, I don't have a problem. You have the problem. What's wrong with me going out with the guys?" he demanded in a rather loud voice.

"Keep it down," she hissed, trying to jerk away again. "This isn't the place for a fight."

"Hey, you started it."

"I did not! You're the one who came looking for me. Why in blazes couldn't you leave a note or something?"

"This is a bad time for an old lover's argument," Donnan thought. The two guards were not paying enough attention to their surroundings, as both also smelled like they'd imbibed heavily.

"And what in blazes are you doing out here with this low-class nobody, huh?" he demanded.

Anger welled up inside him, and he tried to calm himself enough to do a sleep spell without making any obvious signs of it.

"You leave me so you can go slumming?" he continued.

"Sssshhh! Dammit, this is none of your business," she retorted. "This is not the time or the place."

"You're right. We need some privacy." He started to drag her off to an alleyway.

"Reese, please, stop this. This is dangerous. Reese, let me go," she pleaded, her voice now quavering. In a moment, they were out of sight, although he could still hear angry voices.

The other two guards looked at each other stupidly.

"Now what?" one said.

"I don't know," the other replied.

"Let me go," Donnan ordered. It was the same thing he'd done to them before, but now he was aware of how he was doing the magic.

Their two faces went blank, and they released their hold.

"Stay here. Stay alert. Don't get killed," he ordered, with a bit of a sigh.

They put their back to each other and took defensive postures.

"Good enough." He dashed over to the alleyway.

Reese was holding Aolani against a wall, oblivious continuing the argument. She was simply standing there, looking very frightened but not hurt.

"Let her go," he ordered, but didn't use magic. He didn't know if Aolani was sensitive to the use of magic as Blake was, but he didn't want to risk it.

"What in darkness?" he exclaimed, turning his attention to Donnan. "What'd you do to the guys?"

"Nothin'. They're just fine, for now. All your yellin' is goin' to attract attention. You need to go and you need to go now," he answered, trying to keep calm, and trying to keep the Dark power in check. Snow was falling more heavily from the sky now.

The guard advanced on him. "You can't tell me what to do."

"We've done this before, Reese," he hissed. "Twice before now, and I'm tired of this. Go away before I really hurt you." The urge to seriously injure the guard was very strong, but a quick glance over Reese's shoulder to Aolani's wide, frightened eyes helped him keep his temper.

The guard threw a punch at him, which Donnan easily dodged, and used the momentum to shove him down the alleyway.

The larger man sprawled face first in the filthy snow, then scrambled to his feet, looking furious. "Hey, guys," he called, walking forward so that they were only a couple of arm's length apart.

The other two guards walked him behind him. Since Donnan had been rushed, he hadn't made the command very strong, although both still looked a little blank.

"Reese, let it go," Aolani said in a worried voice.

"I'm arresting you for assaulting a guard," he continued.

"I told you, Reese, I'll vouch for him. You were making trouble. You're drunk, and you're not even on duty right now. You shouldn't even be here," she replied, stepping in front of Donnan.

Even in that tense situation, he was amused that she was trying to protect him.

"Dammit, why are you standing up for him? He's just low-class scum. He's got no parents and no breeding. I'll bet he can't even read."

He was about to make an angry reply when she beat him to it.

"Obviously parents and breeding to not make a gentleman," she retorted coldly. "Donnan has never been drunk around me, he has never stood me up without warning or apology, and he most certainly has never accosted me in the middle of the night."

The larger man quickly closed the distance and raised his hand to slap Aolani.

Donnan caught his arm, his eyes black with fury. "You do not hit women," he growled. "Go home, Reese," he ordered, his voice malevolent and rumbling with thunder. "Go home before I leave you broken and bloodied and nearly dead in a dark alleyway." Then with a sickening crack, he broke the guard's wrist.

The larger man yelped in pain and jerked away.

He released him. "Go home," he snarled again.

Reese gave him a defiant stare and was struck by a wave of cold. Suddenly frightened, he mumbled something to his friends, and they disappeared into the stinging snow outside the alleyway.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then turned to Aolani. She was staring into space, very pale, and clearly frightened. He called her name in a soft voice.

She looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide. Then she burst into tears.

Not knowing what else to do, he put an arm around her in what he hoped was a comforting fashion, pulled her next to him, and started to walk her home while she cried into her gloves. By the time they reached her neighborhood, the wind and snow and lessened into a gentle fall, and she was reduced to a steady stream of silent tears.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, but stayed next to him. "I've seen him like that before, but I didn't expect him to get violent. I'm so sorry. I just got angry, and I shouldn't have."

"It's not your fault, it's his. And don't feel guilty for gettin' angry. I'm sorry you had to see me get angry."

"You broke his wrist. I heard the crack."

He nodded. "Yeah. I was just so mad because he actually tried to hit you. Even I was raised never to hit women. I know. I shouldn't have done it. And now I'll probably get into more trouble 'cause of it."

"I was afraid you were really going to get hurt, or really hurt Reese. I couldn't see your face, though, but I saw his. He was frightened and angry, and I'd guess you looked about the same."

"So you're not mad at me for breakin' his wrist?"

"No, not mad. Just disappointed. Not in you," she quickly added. "I'm just disappointed that Reese decided to accost me like that. I don't blame you for hurting him, and I'm sure that you could probably have done worse. You move like a trained fighter, and you're quite strong if you can block a punch from a guard who's nearly twice as broad as you are. I'm disappointed that I allowed myself to get angry and enrage him further."

"Aolani, he was lookin' for a fight. Trust me, I know. Are you goin' to press charges?"

She sighed. "I should, shouldn't I? But it's hard when you have a history with someone. I'm not sure I could press charges against him anymore than I could do so against Kennet. I really don't think he's a bad person, just has made some bad decisions."

"And why isn't makin' bad decisions like gettin' drunk and attackin' a couple of people enough reason to press charges?" he retorted, trying not to sound too harsh. "It's not a matter of him bein' a bad person, it's a matter of him bein' a bad guard."

"I know that. But I don't see what good a black mark on his record will do. Maybe I should talk with his father."

He stopped her. "Aolani, please listen to me. He's been in lots of trouble before. If his father talkin' to him was goin' to make a difference, that wouldn't have happened. He could have gotten killed. He could have gotten those other two guys killed. He could have gotten us all in a lot of trouble. I'm not askin' you stop carin' for him, I'm askin' you to think about what he's supposed to be doin'. If Alain was pullin' stunts like this, I'd press charges against him in a heartbeat. Guards are supposed to stop trouble, not go around makin' it."

Tears stung her already reddened eyes. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I'll go to the main guardhouse tomorrow before work."

"I'm sorry. This isn't goin' to be easy."

"But necessary," she sighed, and started walking again. After a moment's pause, she said, "I heard you say something to him about having done this before. Has he gotten into a fight with you?"

"Er. Yeah, but I wouldn't call them fights, exactly. Three on one isn't exactly a fight," he answered darkly.

"If you've been in fights with him, and gotten hurt, why didn't you press charges?"

He couldn't hide his bitterness in his answer. "Because no one's goin' to take the word of a low-class nobody over the word of the Guard Commander's son, 'specially when he's got two guys to back him up, and I've got no one but a Dark acolyte on my side."
She nodded. "I was afraid you'd say something like that. Did he-did he hurt you badly?" she ventured.

"Him and his two friends beat me up pretty good, but Blake showed up. They didn't have much interest in dealin' with a Dark acolyte, so they left me alone before things got real serious," he responded carefully.

She gave him a suspicious look, but let it go. Then she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"I can't press charges against Reese," she replied in dismay.

"What? Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter how I tell the story, no matter how much I emphasize that we felt threatened, you're going to get in trouble for his broken wrist."

"Godsdammit," he exclaimed. "You're right. It don't matter how wrong he was, I'm goin' to get it. Dammit. I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm sorry. You're right about him, but I don't want you to get into trouble, especially if there's some history between you two."

"Dammit." He thought quickly. "Are you still meetin' him tomorrow?"

"I guess so," she answered, startled. "I suppose I should just to see if he apologizes."

"Well, maybe you can find out if he even remembers how it got broken. If he don't remember it's me, you can press charges."

"And if he does, then what?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I don't know."

"We'll just have to see how it goes."

"Are you goin' to be alone?"

"The Golden Quill is a large tavern. There will be plenty of people there."

"That's good. I wish I could be part of the conversation though."

"It's a very open set-up, which is part of the reason I chose it. Reese would surely see you. But maybe you could wait outside for me and walk me either home or to the guardhouse?" she asked. "Just in case."

"Of course I'll do that."

"Thank you."

They walked the rest of the way to her house in silence.

The next after fighting practice, Donnan racked his brain trying to figure out someway he could eavesdrop on the conversation between Aolani and Reese without being seen.

"Darkling," he called, frustrated.

"Yes, Master?" one hissed.

"How do you always know where I am?"

"We watch you. And you are part of the Darkness. You are easy to find."

"What do you mean, you watch me? Can you see me from the Shadow Realm?"

"We can sense what you are from the Shadows."

"And how do you find other people? I mean, you can't sense them, right?"

"No, Master. We look for them, find them by their names, or titles, or descriptions."

"But how do you see them?" he pressed. "I mean, don't they know you're there when you come out of the shadows?"

"We do not have to leave the Shadow to see. It is more difficult to see and hear from the Shadow, but it is safer."

"How do you do that?"

"How?" it repeated, expressing surprise.

This startled Donnan, who hadn't thought the creature was capable of anything besides cold indifference or anger.

"We are part of the Shadow. You are part of the Shadow. There is no how, only will."

"You mean I can just will myself to sort of be in the Shadow Realm but not completely so that I can still hear and see stuff happenin' in the regular world?"

"We are part of the Shadow. You are part of the Shadow. There is no how, only will," it repeated.

"Well, thanks for that. You can go now," he said impatiently.

It bowed, and disappeared.

He stood up and stared at the shadow on the wall. "Just will, huh?" He started to step into the Shadow Realm, but didn't allow himself to fall in completely. Instead he became as a shadow, and looked back at his room. It seemed a bit dim, and the furniture looked fuzzy and insubstantial. He emerged back into physical reality. "I wonder if I can walk through walls," he thought, and went over to his bedroom door. Again, he faded into the shadows and gently pressed through the wooden door. The air seemed to feel thick, but he came through on the other side without a problem. "That is so weird," he thought, feeling oddly shaken by the experience. "Still, better than trying to sneak into a tavern."

The sun set early in winter, and with the overcast sky, it was dark enough the streetlighters were already at work lighting the lamps. As he expected, the Golden Quill was a moderately sized tavern in a wealthy commercial district. He tucked himself into a side street, away from the dim illumination of the street lamps and waited for either Reese or Aolani to enter.

Aolani approached the tavern first, surrounded by five women her age, all carrying a heavy leather bag. The other women went on their way, and with a nervous look around, she entered the warm, well-lit tavern.

He walked around to the alley at the side of the building. Then he drew a deep breath, and faded into the wall. He could see the room in front of him but it was dim, as though he was seeing it from behind a translucent cloth. The furniture and people looked blurry. The sound seemed muffled and thin. With some effort, he located Aolani, who was seated at a two person table with a clear view and path to the door. He fell completely into the shadow to move closer to her, then faded back so he could hear and see what was happening.

Reese showed up a few minutes later and immediately grabbed a drink from the bar and sat down.

Donnan had to strain to catch the words, but he overheard the entire conversation.

"Hello, Reese," she greeted, with a disapproving glance at the mug of ale.

"Hello, Aolani."

"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked.

"I still want to know what you're doing with that guy."

"And it's still none of your business," she replied coldly. She lowered her voice. "You and your friends accosted me and a friend of mine for no good reason. You were drunk, and you're going to be in great deal of trouble when I press charges against you for assault."

"What?" he blurted. "You'd press charges against me?" he asked in a quieter tone.

"Reese, you got drunk and went to find me and harass me. How you knew where I was going to be, I don't know. I suspect you asked some of our mutual friends what nights I go out without them, or perhaps some of the guards. At any rate, this is unacceptable behavior for a guard, and you know it. If you asked your guard friends to watch me, this may even be an abuse of your rank."

"How could you press charges? I'm your friend," he snapped.

"Last night you certainly were not. You left a bruise on my arm."

"Oh. I shouldn't have done that. I was pretty drunk."

"You should not have come out at all in your state of inebriation."

"You're right. I'm sorry, alright?"

"I accept your apology, but I'm still going to formally press charges against you and your friends."

"Dammit, why? I apologized, didn't I? I'll never do it again, alright?"

She sighed. "I'd like to believe you, but I'm afraid I can't. We both know how often you've said those words, and how often you've continued the offending behavior."

An ugly look crossed his handsome face. "If you press charges against me, I'm going to have to explain this," he replied, and pulled up his right sleeve. The broken wrist was encased in plaster.

"And what would your explanation be?" she asked, trying to keep her face as still as she did when gambling.

"That your low-class friend broke it."

"I would be sure to tell the investigator that we both felt threatened by three drunk guards who had already gotten violent."

"So what? They'll still take him in for questioning, and he'd get into a lot of trouble, even if his brother is in the guard. His brother could get in a lot of trouble too," he responded, with a sort of satisfied smile.

Donnan was sorely tempted to leave the shadows and put the fear of god into the arrogant guard.

Her pretty face fell. "I see. Then I won't press charges after all."

"Wait, you'll protect that nobody, but you'd turn me in? You've known me for years."

"Yes, I have. And I'm sorry I never managed to look past the good breeding and good looks to accurately get the measure of you." She stood up abruptly. "Our friendship ends right here, Reese. I do not wish to see you or speak with you outside of formal gatherings. You have shown me that you're a poor guard and no gentleman. Good day," she finished firmly, and walked directly out the door, ignoring Reese's protests.

Donnan slipped into the shadows and found Aolani briskly walking down the street. He hurried up to her. "I take it things didn't go well?" he asked, not letting her know he'd been eavesdropping.

"No, no they didn't." She was looking at the ground, but he could tell by the quiver in her voice she was near tears.

"I'm sorry. I'm real sorry."

"I feel like such an idiot that I could never see what kind of person he really was. He did remember you broke his wrist and he used that to keep me from pressing charges. I'm sorry, but it looks like it gets away with this behavior for now."

"Ah, dammit. Well, it's not your fault. If anythin', it's mine because I didn't hold my temper." He sighed. "Sounds like you stood up for me, though. I appreciate that."

"You've been a better friend to me than Reese has in these past few months. I appreciate that."

"So, do you want to do somethin' tonight, maybe get you to cheer up?"

She shook her head. "No. I'd like to just go home now."

"I'm real sorry," he repeated, and walked her to her apartment in silence.

At the door, she looked at him, her hazel eyes red. "Thank you for being so understanding." She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you at tutoring." Then she entered the apartment, leaving him standing in the falling snow with a dazed expression.

He rubbed his face thoughtfully. After a few moments, he headed to the Temple of Night, first walking several blocks to make sure he wasn't being followed. When he was satisfied he wasn't, he walked into the shadows.

And appeared directly in front of Dwyer's study.

"Come in," the priest called, hearing the knock. "Well, my Lord, what can I do for you?"

"There's a guard I want thrown out. And thrown out as soon as possible," he answered immediately.

The priest looked a little surprised at this abrupt request. "May I ask what prompted such an urgent request?"

"No."

"I thought as much. What is the name and rank of this guard?"

"I don't know his rank, but he's the Guard Commander's son."

He raised an eyebrow. "Reese. I believe you mentioned him in one of our earlier talks. Why the need for action now?"

"None of your damn business. Just get him thrown out, alright?" he snapped.

"Such a thing is much easier said than done. He is the commander's son, and I know he has a history of poor behavior. If he hasn't been punished for it so far, there's little reason he would be punished now."

"It's not that difficult," he replied, exasperated. "You just need to get him to start a fight with someone important enough his father can't ignore it."

"Who did you have in mind to go along with this set-up?"

"I don't. That's why I'm here."

"None of my Order could do this, not because we're not important, but because of who we are."

"So ask one of your friends. These people I've been deliverin' messages to. They've got to owe you some favors by now."

"If you're serious about this, I'll give you a name and address, and you work this out for yourself."

He gave the priest a suspicious look. "Why make me do it? You said you guys would help me."

"I am helping you, by telling you were you need to go. It's up to you to convince the contact that she should help you. I rather suspect she will, once you make it clear to her who you are."

"Wait, you told people I'm the ShadowWalker?" he demanded.

"I've told certain people that I am allied with a young man of considerable magical power and ambition, but few conventional means to realize that ambition."

"You told them I was a mage."

"No. They've assumed you're just a mage, probably of sorcerer rank. And if you are even vaguely aware of the contents of the messages you carry, it shouldn't be difficult to convince these same certain people to do such a small favor for you."

He caught the subtle insult. His temper rose and the temperature of the room dropped abruptly. "Tell me who it is," he bit off.

Dwyer seemed unperturbed by the sudden chill in the room and gave him a name and address.

"That's the head of the Salt Guild," he said with some surprise. "She's goin' to help me?"

"That, my Lord, depends entirely on how you handle the situation. Simply tell the servant at the door that you're the new messenger for the Guild. She'll know what that means, although you may have to prove you are who you claim to be. She should be in this evening."

"Thanks." He turned and melted into the shadows.

He appeared a few blocks away from the address. The neighborhood was a wealthy residential area, with large houses separated by large lawns. When he reached the address, he simply had to stop and look. The house was huge. It was three stories, made of stone and wood, with many windows on the upper floors. In the dim light of the street lamps, it was hard to make out specific details, but he had no doubt there was gold lining the decorative trim. The house was surrounded by a seven foot stone wall and a heavy iron gate at the front. The lawn inside was now nothing but a white blanket, but he was sure it was immaculately manicured in the spring and summer. The whole place was frankly intimidating and he felt ashamed of himself for wanting to bother such an important woman with such a petty matter.

Then the Dark power stirred inside him, a quiet reminder of a vast power waiting and wanting to be used. He steeled his resolve, and approached the mansion.

The gate was open, so he followed the cleared stone path up to the house. The lights were on and he could hear music and loud conversation inside. He knocked on the decoratively carved double doors, not even sure if it would be heard.

The door was immediately opened by a consummate head manservant, a middle-aged gentleman wearing a black servant's uniform. "May I help you?"

"I'd like to see Mistress Adrie."

The man gave him a quick but thorough appraisal.

"The mistress of the house is hosting a party this evening. Are you on the guest list?"

"Er, no. I was hopin' for a private meetin'," he replied, getting uncomfortable.

The servant's face was expressionless, but there was a flicker of disapproval in his eyes. "May I say who's calling?"

"Tell her the new Guild messenger would like to talk with her."

With another glance of disapproval, the servant opened the door wide. "Please wait here."

He entered the vast house and found himself in a small, square foyer with doors on all four sides, including the main doors. The walls were wooden, the floor covered in gray stone tiles, and the walls decorated with expensive paintings.

The servant opened the door opposite the front doors, and Donnan was struck by a blast of noise from what was clearly a large, crowded, and loud party. A younger servant replaced the older one, but his duty was merely to keep an eye on the guest.

He amused himself by looking at the paintings under the watchful eye of the servant. He was starting to get impatient and lose his nerve when the older man returned. The younger one vanished without a word.

"The mistress will see you now. Please follow me."

He was lead not through the door leading to the party, but through the door to the left, which opened into a lovely sitting room. The servant took him through two more rooms, a large library and a game room, equally as richly and tastefully decorated as they foyer, up a small spiral staircase, down a hallway, and finally to a wooden door. He knocked. "The young man is here."

"Send him in," came a woman's voice.

The servant opened the door, bowed slightly, and closed the door without a sound after Donnan entered.

He guessed he was in a private study or office. Three walls had built in bookshelves. The fourth wall, facing the door, had two windows covered in heavy drapes, a couple of framed maps, and a pair of lamps. The furniture was a fine desk and three leather chairs.

Mistress Adrie was standing next to the chair behind the desk. She was a tall, thin woman in her fifties, but it was impossible to determine her age any more specifically. Her short but well-styled hair had gone completely gray, her eyes were gray, and she had a pair of glasses hanging on a silver chain around her neck. Her face was attractive but hard; handsome rather than pretty. She was impeccably dressed in a long gown of dark blue, with rather expensive looking sapphire earrings and a large sapphire ring.

If he thought the house was intimidating, it was only because it was a reflection of this woman's personality. He was starting to lose his courage again, and feeling very silly indeed for thinking he could ask this woman for any kind of favor.

"You are the new messenger, are you not?" she asked crisply.

"Yes, Mistress."

She looked him over thoroughly with her sharp eyes. "You're younger than I expected you to be."

He shrugged, not quite knowing what to say.

"Still, you fit the description Dwyer gave me, so I assume you are who you say you are. Sit."

He took a chair.

"What's your name, young man?"

"Donnan."

"And why are you here? I'm sure you've noticed I'm in the middle of a rather large social gathering."

He was starting to feel rather small underneath her steady gaze. But again, the Dark power moved within him. He straightened his shoulders. "I need a favor."

"What sort of favor?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I want to get a guy thrown out of the guard."

"That's all?"

"Yeah," he replied. His answer seemed a bit lame, so he added, "For now."

"Very well. Who is this guard and what gives you the idea that I have some power to influence those sorts of decisions?"

"Dwyer sent me here."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Of course he did. Again, who is this guard?"

"His name is Reese."

"Reese?" she interrupted. "Garron's son?" Seeing the blank look on his face she clarified with a faint sigh, "The Guard Commander's son?"

He nodded. "You know Reese?"

"I have met the young man," she replied, with distaste.

"Where would you meet him?"

She gave him a reproachful look. "At one of the many social gatherings I'm expected to attend. Garron brings him along occasionally."

"You don't like him?"

"Well, it's not for me to speak ill of a peer's children." Then she gave him a cold smile. "But in my unofficial and frank opinion, the young man has not struck me as particularly clever or intelligent. He may have been able to enter the guard on his own merits, but I don't think he has what he takes to advance very far without aid."

"Sounds about right to me," he agreed bitterly.

"Exactly how do you think I'm going to be able to help you get Reese removed from the guard?"

"It's real easy. He likes to get drunk and start fights. He just needs to start a fight with someone high-class and important enough his father can't just ignore it."

"So you're asking me to ask one of my employees to goad this young man into a fight without being directly responsible, and then formally press charges?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She gave him another appraisal.

He lowered his eyes, not in deference, but to look at her soul. There was more Darkness than Light, which he expected, but the Darkness didn't seem that deep. It seemed as though the Darkness had set in as the Light receded. He wondered briefly about it, but turned his attention to other matters.

To her credit, Adrie did not shiver or otherwise acknowledge what he was doing.

"You want this guard removed because he's started a fight with you, and you feel you don't have enough status to press charges?" she guessed shrewdly.

"Yeah," he answered, squirming uncomfortably.

"I see." She leaned back in the chair and tapped the desk in impatient thought. After a few minutes she abruptly stood up and started to peruse her bookshelves. "Dwyer tells me you have ambition and power, and outlets for neither."

"Er, yeah."

"Do you know what's in the messages you carry?"

"I know that the investigators would be real interested in them," he replied.

She pulled a few books off the shelves, as though she expected a threat. "Of course. And no doubt Dwyer hasn't given me all the information he has about you." Then she turned around and set five books down on the table. "He says you're mage. Do you know any mind magic?"

"I'm learnin'," he answered, looking confused.

She sat back down in her chair. "Good. Here's what I'm going to offer you. I'm a businesswoman, and I'll use any means necessary to expand my business. Having a mage working for me could be very useful, especially one who can use mind magic. It would be most effective for me if you were available for certain meetings. However, I need a reason to have you around. Random guests tend to arouse suspicion. Read these books, learn something about the Guild, and get rid of that drawl as much as you can, and I'll take you on as my personal secretary."

"And what do I have to do for you?"

"You must keep secrets, and use your power to detect lies and persuade more reluctant clients to go along with my offers."

"You want me to join the Guild and enchant people," he said bluntly.

"It would behoove you to be more discreet in your words, but yes, that's basically what I want. The better the Guild does, the more you personally will benefit. I also ask that you not tell Dwyer too much about our arrangement. Frankly, I don't trust that man. As a token of my sincerity, I will arrange to have Reese thrown out of the guard as quickly as I can."

"You want me to work for you?"

"That is the idea. Within a few months, you should be important enough that should you get into any more fights, your charges will be taken seriously. Of course, I don't expect you'll be getting in many fights once you have a full time job," she replied. "Are you interested?"

He thought it over quickly. "Sure, I'll join your Guild."

She smiled. "I thought you would." She held out her hand.

He shook it carefully.

"I'll give you a week to look over the books, and I'll see you at the Guild office in one week, bright and early." Although she didn't say it specifically, he knew that the interview was over, and he was dismissed.

"Thank you, Mistress Adrie," he said, standing up.

"I expect hard work from you, Donnan. Don't disappoint me."

There was only the vaguest threat in her voice, and he didn't know how to respond. He opened the door, and almost instantly the head manservant was standing right next to him.

"This way please."

Soon he was out of the house and on his way home with a lot to think about.

With the support of the Order of Light in Renfrew, the Council put their plans into action. Eliora was not surprised when every young man who had given her a solstice gift volunteered to join the Hunters. Soon the city was nearly empty. Even a couple of the Council members had stepped up for spy work. The only men left in the city were Jomei, the rest of the Council members, Aidan, Davin, and a pair of brothers who were regarded as the finest hunters for several miles and needed to provide food for the winter. Aidan was kept on to continue Eliora's fight training, and Davin stayed because he did not join the Hunters. Aidan took advantage of the situation to be more openly flirtatious with Eliora, who still did her best to ignore the attention, although it was getting harder. He had clearly taken a liking to her after the first few rocky weeks, but she wasn't sure if that was due to her personality or her proximity. Davin, as usual, treated her as he had always done. She considered both of them her friends, albeit in different ways.

"What's wrong?" Eliora asked Davin one night on the watchtower. He had not been at any meals and hadn't seemed to notice when she climbed up.

"Today is my birthday," he said dully.

"It is not part of the culture here to celebrate one's birthday?" she asked.

"It usually is, but not for me," he replied with bitterness evident in his voice.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"You can stay if you like."

She wasn't sure she was really welcome, but she was concerned, so she sat down next to him. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He did not answer and they fell into silence for nearly an hour. Finally, he a low voice, he started to talk. "I shouldn't have lived to see another birthday. I should have died with the rest of my family, but I ran away and made my way here."

"What happened?" she asked gently.

"The people of the Charred Lands are loosely organized into clans that wander around looking for arable land. There is some, if you know where to look. The clans always fight with each other over that land. That's just how it is. Fighting is a way of survival. Sometimes survival means robbing the trade caravans, but that's only a last resort. Everyone does what they must to ensure the survival of the clan. But some clans aren't like that. They conquer other clans and rob the caravans because they want the goods, not because they need them. They wage war, not fight to survive."

"Is that what happened to your family?"

He nodded. "One of the worst clans lead by a man we called the Warlord attacked my clan. My father and brother were killed in the fight. I managed to escape in the confusion and my mother and sister were taken as prisoners. I followed them for days, trying to find a way to free the rest of my family and get revenge. But I was too late. The Warlord wanted to marry my sister but when she refused, he beat her so badly she died the next morning. That night, my mother killed herself. When I found out they were dead, I couldn't even force myself to do my duty and avenge their deaths or die honorably trying. I just ran away. So here I am. The last of my clan, a coward without honor who has lived to see another birthday while the man who killed my clan is free to murder and plunder without remorse or consequence." His voice was breaking with sorrow.

Eliora leaned on the railing for a moment, and then began to sing softly. It seemed appropriate, and allowed her to save him the embarrassment of noticing his muffled sobs.

"What kind of song was that?" he asked when she had finished and he had pulled himself together. "It wasn't like the others. It sounded sadder, but more hopeful."

"It is one of the oldest songs recorded. It is the Litany to the Innocent Dead. In Northern, it means something like this." She struggled for a moment to translate and summarize the words. "The dead have passed beyond the cares of the living, past all pain, all fear, all Darkness, and all Light. They will be mourned and their deeds remembered. Their souls are at peace. The living are left with the hardship of coping with the passing of the dead and the task of tending to their own souls. So to the living are left these words of comfort and warning. Grieve, but do not let grief consume you. Regret, but do not live in the past. Weep, but do not carry sorrow with you. Rage, but do not let anger burn you out. Hurt, but do not refuse to heal. To dwell on that which cannot be changed leads to despair, and despair leads to Darkness. No matter how deep the pain, time heals all wounds. Find solace in silence, find strength in love, take joy in laughter, never give up hope, and the Light will return."

He considered this. "Thank you."

Sometime later, they descended the watchtower and headed back to her cottage.

"What about you, Eliora? Your family is alive. Why don't you go see them?" he asked.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

She sighed. "They believe I am dead, and so I am dead to them. To suddenly reappear would be a terrible shock."

He gave her a hard look.

"Besides," she continued, noticing the look, "I'm not completely naïve when it comes to politics. The Order of Light in my home doesn't intend for me to return. I'm a threat to their power. While they probably have some plans in place in case I do return, if I don't go along with those plans, there will be serious religious and political upheaval."

"Maybe your country needs that kind of chaos," he said harshly.

"Maybe it does," she agreed with tears stinging her eyes. "But at the cost of hundreds, perhaps thousands or tens of thousands of lives? Even if it didn't come to civil war, my family would suffer. Right now they are safe and have moved on with their lives. Family and community are more important than anything else. Who am I to judge that social revolution is the best thing for them?"

"You're the Champion of Light," he snapped.

"I'm the Avatar of Light," she corrected. "It's Hialmar and the Council who gave me the title of Champion."

"But they are your people. Who else should make that kind of judgment call?"

"I don't know," she said. "But not me. I'm here to defeat the ShadowWalker and that's all."

"You're here to defeat the Darkness, not just one person. I just don't understand you at all. I'd give anything to see my family again. Yours is alive and you could go see them whenever you wanted. You have the power to change your whole society, maybe even the whole world. But instead you're just going to let your family think you're dead and let your Order lie to them and everyone else about what happened to you?"

Their footsteps crunched in the snow as they walked in silence. Eliora fought back tears and tried to work out a reply.

"Well?" he prompted when they reached her cottage door and she made no sign she intended to answer.

"If you really wanted to be left alone, I wish you'd just said so instead of getting mad at me because you don't understand me. Goodnight," she said firmly, and shut the door in his face. She changed her clothes and stared despondently into the night, trying not to cry or think about anything at all.

"Why do you even talk to him?" Aidan asked the next morning at breakfast.

"What?"

"I know you talked to Davin last night. He always upsets you. Why do you even bother?"

"He doesn't always upset me."

"More often than not," Aidan said darkly. "And then you don't pay attention during practice and one of us gets hurt."

"I just want to help."

He sighed. "Some people don't want help, Eliora."

"I know. But I have to try before I figure that out."

"Why do you want to have anything to do with that char-kin? He can fight but he won't fight, he didn't join the Hunters, and you still go find him when he's run off to sulk. Then when you do find him, he hurts your feelings. He's not worth all this. I just don't understand you sometimes."

She didn't reply.

"Well, come on. Let's try to have a good practice today. A good workout followed by trouncing me at chess again should cheer you up."

She didn't have a good practice, and she didn't feel like playing chess, so she went to her room after dinner. Aidan was clearly disappointed, but he just shook his head and didn't protest too much. She had just let her hair down to brush it before getting a bath when she heard a knock at her door. She ignored it.

"Eliora, it's me," came Davin's voice.

"I knew that," she thought, but still didn't respond.

"Can I talk to you?"

With a sigh, she went to the door. "If the first words out of his mouth aren't an apology, I'm throwing him right back out again," she thought bitterly. "Come in."

He stared at her a moment, then walked in. "I've never seen you with your hair down."

She picked up the brush and started to pull out the tangles. "Not quite an apology, or even a compliment. Maybe Aidan is right. Maybe I shouldn't bother." Her hair was so long now she could sit on it if she wasn't careful.

"Can I help?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I guess," she replied, surprised. "Start at the bottom and work up," she said, handing him the brush and turning around.

"I think I can figure it out," he said dryly.

For several minutes, the only sound was the brush moving through her thick, glossy hair. She found it surprisingly relaxing, but she was still upset over his harsh words. "Why are you here?"

"To understand you better. Why don't you go to see your family?" he asked, but this time there was no anger in his voice.

"I have a duty here now, and I must see it through. As long as I know they're safe, I can focus on that duty. But if I went home it would only cause trouble and then I'd worry about them. I'd lose focus on my duty here and I wouldn't be able to focus on my family there. I'd be distracted in both places, and then I might lose against the ShadowWalker. I can't risk that."

"And after you win?"

She noted that he seemed to take this as a given. "I don't know. If I went home, I'd want to return to the life I had, not the life the Order will want for me. But I know that's impossible. They wouldn't let me and I'm not sure it would be so easy for me to put aside everything I've learned and done and become. But I don't want to start any civil wars. I don't want to fight. And I'd have to leave the life I made here. I don't want to spend my life trying to live in two worlds, or having to give up one again. It broke my heart to lose my home and family once. I can't do that again."

"Then what do you want?"

"I don't know. But, for now, that doesn't matter so much. I have my duty and I will carry that out." She shrugged. "Anyway, I've never been much for planning ahead. It's gotten me in trouble, but that's just how I am. When I'm ready for the future, then I focus on that. I've done that with everything. Education, career, marriage..." She stopped abruptly.

There was just the slightest of pauses in the rhythm of brushing.

"Learning to fight and all that. So far it's working anyway."

"I didn't know you were married." His voice betrayed nothing except mild curiosity.

"I wasn't. I was being formally courted though, by a fellow scribe." She sighed. "If things hadn't turned out this way, it is likely we would have been married. He came from a good family. His family liked my family. We liked each other and he wouldn't have ended up my superior so there wasn't any career conflict of interest."

"Sounds like a good match."

"It was." Tears were starting to sting her eyes. "But it doesn't matter now. He will have grieved and moved on. At least, I hope so. He's a good man and deserves a good wife and happiness."

"And you?"

"Well, I'm not ready to consider that right now. I've got quite enough to worry about, don't you think?"

"I suppose you do." He put the brush on the low table.

She turned around to face him.

"I am sorry. I had no right to speak to you like that after you tried your best to help me out of my bout of self-pity. You did make me feel better after your song, but I'm afraid that I was still hurting so badly I lashed out at you when you said you wouldn't see your family again. I thought at the time if I had the power you do, and they were alive, that nothing in the world would stop me from seeing them. But I think I understand why you stay. Once you've started healing, why would you want to rip open those wounds again? Best to let them close completely and focus on other matters."

"Apology accepted," she said.

"Sometimes I think it'd be easier on me if you didn't forgive so quickly. It makes me feel even worse for hurting your feelings," he replied with just a bit of a smile.

She sort of shrugged. "That's just how I am," she said with a smile of her own.

"Then you aren't upset with me?"

"I've told you before, I don't accept apologies if I don't mean it."

"That's a rare gift, Eliora. Most people aren't so genuine."

"They could learn to be. Now, it's late, and I was just about to draw a bath, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

The faintest hint of a blush crept along his rather pronounced cheekbones. "I'll be going then," he said, standing up just a bit too quickly.

She almost laughed and blushed herself, realizing her very innocent statement might have caused some embarrassing and in no way innocent thoughts.

"But maybe chess tomorrow night?" he asked, showing himself to the door.

"Maybe so."

"Goodnight. And you should leave your hair down more often."

She shut the door behind him, feeling a lot better.

Donnan read the books he had been given by the Head of the Salt Guild. All of them concerned the history, politics, and economics of the guild and all were fairly boring. Still, he pushed through them hoping to not look like too much of an idiot at his next meeting with Mistress Adrie. He also studied mind magic, and had mastered a lie-detection spell by the end of the week by practicing on the people he gambled with.

He was just making his breakfast the day he was going to start his new job when he heard a rather enthusiastic knock at his door. "It can only be Alain at this hour," he thought.

Sure enough, his brother was standing there, looking exhausted and dirty as always but smiling. "Can I join you for breakfast?"

"Sure. Pull up a chair. What's got you in such a good mood?" he asked, offering the larger man a cup of tea.

He sank down gratefully in the chair and took large gulps of the tea. "Gods, it's cold out there."

"Come on, Alain."

"Well, I just got some good news. Reese got himself thrown out of the Guard."

Donnan found he was actually surprised Adrie had been good to her word. "What? Really? How?"

"Two days ago that idiot went out with his friends and got drunk, again. Got in a fight, again. But turns out he wasn't just fightin' with some low class nobody, oh no, he got in a fight with the son of someone high up in the Salt Guild. Even Reese's father couldn't protect him from that kind of fightin' 'specially since the guy was threatenin' to press charges. Kind of wish he'd done it, but Reese got thrown out instead of goin' to jail. Tossed out just yesterday morning. Heard about it right before I went on duty, so I had to wait until I got off to tell you."

"It's about damn time too. He should've been thrown out years ago."

"Yeah, we both know that, but hey, better late than never, right?"

"Yeah, right," he agreed, feeling pleased. "So what's that pretty boy goin' to do now?"

"Don't know, don't care. I'll tell you what, no one was real upset to see him go. Didn't really make a lot of friends with most of the guys."

"That comes from being a cowardly bully," he said, setting out the meal.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, thought you'd like to know."

"Thanks. As I said, about time. Oh, you might like to know I got a new job. Not workin' for the Order," he said, seeing his brother's look.

"Really? That's good. That's real good. What're you doin'?"

"I'm going to be a secretary for the Head of the Salt Guild." He had expected Alain to congratulate him, but instead he looked mildly perplexed.

"How'd you get that kind of job?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know none of those people. How could you know she was lookin' for a new secretary?"

"Oh, fine," he snapped. "Dwyer told me she was lookin', and I didn't want to work for him anymore, so I went to see her."

"So why'd she hire you?" he asked, now suspicious.

"She needed someone who knew Arcana," he replied irritably, telling himself that was true, in a sense. She needed a mage, and mages knew Arcana.

"Oh, alright then. Well, that's good you're not workin' for the Order no more. I'm glad you've got a new job, little brother. This should be good for you, too." He started to eat his breakfast. "Yeah, that's real good."

Donnan found it difficult to eat his breakfast. He didn't like lying to Alain, but telling him his new job was no more ethical than anything he'd done for the Order wasn't an option. Instead, he took joy in the fact Reese was finally out of a position of authority.

His meeting with Adrie was very brief and to the point. Whenever he was the only secretary accompanying her to a meeting, he was to perform a lie-detection spell on everyone else and make notes. She told him she'd give him further instructions about other spells when necessary. She then deposited him with her four other secretaries and gave them instructions to train him.

They gave him no indication of what they thought of this task. They were all at least ten years older than he was, and all had a rather brusque manner that matched their employer. He noticed they occasionally emphasized a word or two in their instructions, which he gradually realized was a gentle correction of his pronunciation. He tried not to get angry and instead follow their example. The work really wasn't that hard. Most of the secretaries did other duties such as accounting or running errands for her. He was given mostly menial tasks to occupy his time. The meetings he was required to attend generally started near the end of the usual work day and often ran late and sometimes were conducted over dinner at Adrie's imposing house. He chafed at having his evenings occupied, but found out that Aolani had become quite sick since their last night out and hadn't even been allowed to leave the house. He sent a couple of get-well gifts to her house but couldn't get the time to go visit her.

About a month later, he was summoned to Adrie's office.

"Sit."

He did so.

"Your work is improving," she said. "Tonight is a rather important social gathering at my house. You will attend. You will wear something formal. If I summon you to my side, I expect you to perform your duty on the guests I am speaking to. You won't be able to take notes, of course, but I expect you will remember the topic of discussion and the results?"

He nodded uncertainly.

"Later, should I ask you about those topics, you will be able to relay to me those results by simply saying 'yes' or 'no.' Understand?"

He nodded again.

"Good. My other secretaries tell me your diction is improving, so I hope you will not utterly embarrass me this evening. I would also suggest if all goes well, that you should find lodgings in a part of the city more befitting your new status. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he replied, annoyed but not surprised she knew where he lived.

"You may also want to consider finding different people to spend time with who better befit your station. I strongly suggest ceasing to associate with any members of the Order of Darkness."

Now he was getting angry, but he nodded curtly.

"Excellent. The gathering is at eight. You should be in attendance ten minutes early." And again, without saying it explicitly, she made it clear he was dismissed.

He left the guild building to go to a clothing shop. He'd never needed formal clothes before, and found them almost insultingly expensive, but he paid for them nonetheless. He wasn't happy about the idea of getting a new place to live since he knew Alain would never be able to join him, but he was excited that Adrie felt he was doing so well. Her favor, he had gathered in just his short time working for her, was worth a lot more than gold.

"I don't care what she suggests or insists," he thought, walking home after checking out some new apartments, "I'm not giving up Blake as a friend. He saved my life, and that's worth more to me than anything she thinks." Besides that, Blake was the only person who could tell him what the Order of Darkness was doing on his behalf. He turned his mind to that as he walked. The last thing Blake had told him was that the Order was trying to find mercenaries to give some force to what the guilds were trying to do, which both he and Blake were not clear about. But he figured working for Adrie would help give him a better idea about that. He wasn't sure where they were going to find mercenaries, since the only people generally allowed to learn to fight or carry weapon were in the guard. "Maybe it's different in other city-states," he thought.

It was quite a different experience going to Adrie's house that night. Instead of the look of disdain he had received last time from the manservant, he was treated with respect and quickly shown into the reception area. Despite being early, he was not the only person there. Adrie and her other secretaries were already there, as well as about a dozen or so people he did not know. She met his eye, gave a slight nod, and sent her senior secretary over to him.

The brusque man dropped his voice low and gave him very terse instructions. "You will mingle and make small talk with people of your age group and status. You may talk business, but you will keep it topical. They will try to get you to say more than you should. You will try to get them to say more than they should. Drink only from the blue wine glasses and only from the green punch bowl if you want anything besides water, tea, or juice. Understand?"

This last part he didn't understand at all, but nodded anyway.

"Good," he said, and as politely as possible made his way back to Adrie. More people had arrived during their brief conversation.

He was at a bit of a loss of what to do, so he went to one of the many appetizer and drink tables. The waiter, he noted, gave him wine in a blue glass even though there were many other colors to choose from. Upon tasting the wine, he understood. There was no alcohol in it. It had an alcoholic after-taste, but he was sure it was alcohol-free. Then he thought perhaps he just wasn't used to drinking fine wines, but it would make sense that Adrie wouldn't want her people to get drunk. He was saved from trying to figure out what else to do by a secretary from the Iron Guild coming over and starting a conversation with him.

The evening was, for the most part, quite boring. The other people he was talking to showed him little respect and sometimes barely concealed their disdain. Then they seemed to get upset when he was as recalcitrant about business as they were. Occasionally Adrie would meet his eyes, which he quickly figured out was her way of summoning him. He chafed, feeling like a dog obeying its master, but did as he was supposed to. His suspicions regarding the wine where also confirmed after the fourth glass in an hour and he had felt no ill effects whatsoever.

"Donnan? What are you doing here?" came the voice of the last person he had expected to run into.

"Aolani?" he stuttered, turning to face her.

She was wearing a lovely dark red gown that complimented her strawberry-blond hair, which was up in a mass of ringlets that framed her pretty face.

"I was invited. By Mistress Adrie. I work for her now," he managed to answer.

"Oh? Well, very good for you. May I ask how you got such a job?"

He felt a flush of anger, but held it back. "She needed someone who knew Arcana. So I guess I have you to thank for this."

She blushed a bit. "Well, you were quite a dedicated student."

"How have you been? I heard you were sick. I'm sorry I couldn't come visit you. Mistress Adrie has kept me pretty busy."

"I'm better now. I had some sort of lung infection and had terrible trouble breathing. I started back at work this week."

"That's good. I was worried there. Again, I'm sorry I couldn't come visit. I wanted to, but Mistress Adrie expects a lot of work from her employees."

"I have heard she does at that. I did get your gifts and they were very nice."

He blushed a bit. "Well, I figured it was the least I could do. So what are you doing here?"

"It's just one of those things I'm required to attend occasionally as the daughter of the mayor. Since I haven't been able to leave the house in some weeks, I figured this party was as good as any other to make my appearance," she replied, not quite disguising her bitterness.

"I'm sorry this isn't much fun," he said, feeling this was a lame response, but couldn't think of anything better to say.

She flashed him a warm smile. "It's just one of those things. Anyway, I'm glad I ran into someone I could talk to here. It's a pleasant surprise."

He felt his face starting to flush again, then he noticed her smile faded. "Is there someone here you don't want to talk to?"

"Well, as I matter of fact, I'm rather hoping Reese is not in attendance. I suspect you feel the same."

"Oh, right, I forgot this might be the kind of party he'd show up to. Yeah, I kind of hope I don't run into him. It wouldn't turn out so well," he said darkly.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "I don't believe he'll show up tonight. He has been in a lot of trouble with his father since he got thrown out of the guard. Unemployment and disgrace has not been good for him."

"You aren't feeling sorry for him, are you?" he asked, trying not to sound bitter.

"Well, he was my friend for a long time. I'm certainly grateful he's been removed from the guard, but I do hope he gets himself together and does what he needs to in order to recover from this."

"You're very forgiving, Aolani. I'm not."

"You also didn't know him like I did. I'm sure you'd be more willing to forgive your own friends for their mistakes."

"Thanks for being so understanding."

She smiled again. "I do try. I'm afraid I must wander off now. There are many people I'm expected to talk to before I'm allowed to turn in, even if I do try to turn in early due to my recent illness."

"Hey, Aolani, would you like to go out for coffee with me sometime?"

"As friends?" she asked, with her eyebrow just slightly raised.

"No, not so much. You're a really wonderful person, and I'd like to get to know you better. If that's alright," he added quickly.

She smiled again. "It's alright. Send a note around my place and let me know when Mistress Adrie gives you a night off."

"I'll do that," he replied, feeling elated.

"Well, I must be off. I'll try to find you again, but I'm not sure how much of this party I can take."

"You and me both," he agreed, noticing Adrie was trying to get his attention.

She laughed a little. "I'll see you later, or in case I don't, good night."

"Later, or good night," he said, and they separated.

Spring was rapidly approaching in Tallis Marrom. Eliora realized she'd had quite enough of snow and a dead forest and was delighted to hear the ice was melting from the Azura River. However, the approach of spring brought news and worries to the Hunters. The Council worried about having the trade caravans lodged in the city, but it would be more suspicious to keep them out. The news was not encouraging. To Eliora's mind, it was clear the Salt and Iron Guilds were attempting to consolidate power. Legislation had been passed in Renfrew that was favorable to both guilds in regards to taxes and import and export restrictions.

"So what does it all mean?" Hialmar asked, quite frustrated.

"The Iron Guild is smuggling weapons into Renfrew," Eliora replied simply.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely. I think they're also trying to exercise influence in other city-states as well."

"But why?"

She sighed. It was all so obvious to her having spent much of her life listening to her father talk about his work in the military and being a scribe. "The Salt and Iron Guild are working together to destabilize the government in Renfrew. Only the guards are allowed to carry weapons, so the Iron Guild is smuggling them in. I also wouldn't be surprised if there's an effort to recruit mercenaries to use those weapons. The end result is that the current mayor of Renfrew will be deposed and someone, probably the Head of one guild or the other, will be elected to that position. That's when the guilds will likely start exercising a lot of political influence in the other city-states, possibly waging economic war on them."

"But the guilds are answerable to the local government," Jomei said. "How can they get away with that?"

"Because the money lies with the guilds and money can often trump the law."

"But the other guilds won't go along with it because it's not to their benefit for the Salt and Iron Guilds to get too powerful. They could start influencing other guilds," Hialmar objected.

"Yes, that's a good point. I would have expected they would protest when the Salt and Iron Guilds got those tax breaks in Renfrew," Eliora replied, "but it doesn't seem so." The room fell silent for a few minutes.

"So what does that mean?" Hialmar finally asked.

"Well, there are other ways to influence people besides money. There's blackmail. There's also magic," she answered, remembering that she had met the ShadowWalker in Mulago. She was fairly certain he'd been there for the same reason she was and had spent a lot of time thinking about the type of magic he'd want to learn.

The Council members exchanged angry looks. "So that's what it comes to," Hialmar said. "Damn mages. How do we fight against this sort of thing?"

"Well, trying to help the guards find smuggled weapons shipments would be a good start. The blackmail will be a little harder. We need to know who is being blackmailed and what they did, and then we have to try to get rid of the evidence. If it's some crime, of course, I don't want to just help them get out of being punished, but there may be deals that can be made to save face."

"And the magic?" Hialmar snapped.

"I don't know. There must be some way to find the mage responsible. No one likes mages so who would hire one, especially for something as potentially damning as mind magic? I guess the best place to start is to find out if there have been any new hires in the Salt and Iron Guilds in Renfrew."

"That could be dozens of people," he interrupted.

"I know, but dozens is a place to start."

"Maybe we'll be so lucky to find someone's hired a registered mage," he said wryly.

"I doubt they've hired anyone registered, but Mulago's the only place I know of to learn any magic. I'll do some more research to find out if there are any others."

"What about the mercenaries?" asked another Council member.

"I'll bet we can pick up information about that to pass along to the proper guards. Surely I'm not the only one who's worried about the recent actions of the Salt and Iron Guilds. While hiring private bodyguards isn't illegal, hiring them for the purpose of political revolution certainly is, especially when they've been armed with smuggled weapons."

The Council made their plans and let out before noon. Jomei held Eliora back after the others filtered out.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking in regards to our mystery mage?" he asked in a low voice.

She nodded. "You think it's the ShadowWalker. I think you may be right, but then again, there are a lot of mages who may not be entirely worried about breaking the Arcane Covenant."

"But the ShadowWalker wouldn't be bound by it, nor would the mages necessarily be looking to a non-mage to break it."

"I know, I know. I already thought of that. When we find out who's been hired, I'll have the Hunters look for someone matching the ShadowWalker's description."

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they do find that. But then what do we do about it?"

"Well, that's why I've made arrangements with your brethren for the equinox."

"I still don't know if it's a good idea."

"People have got to know. The ShadowWalker's greatest weapon right now is secrecy. Once people know about us, maybe they'll start thinking a little bit more about this mage they've hired, right?"

"It might make him even more important," Jomei said, "once people know how powerful he is."

"That depends on where and whom he's working for."

"There's a bit more I didn't want to bring up in front of the Council."

"What?"

"My contacts in the Order of Light tell me that the Order of Darkness in Renfrew has sent envoys to the Charred Lands."

She looked surprised. "What in the world for?"

"My guess is that's where the Guilds will find their mercenaries. They are desperate people, Eliora, and desperate people are easily manipulated."

"True enough. But why didn't you want to tell the Council?"

"They already aren't too fond of your friend Davin. I didn't want to make things worse for him. Hialmar is the type to demand he join the Hunters and return to the Charred Lands to spy on those clerics."

She knew exactly how well that would be received. "Thanks, Jomei. I know you aren't too fond of him either."

"Well, I'm trying to be fair. I don't know his story, and it's not right to judge him badly just because he comes from the Charred Lands." He sort of smiled. "I know I warned you away from him when you came here, but I think your friendship is good for him. I shouldn't have discouraged that."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Yes, but I'm especially ashamed since I'm supposed to be a cleric of Light. Such a thing isn't very enlightened."

That night, Davin was at dinner and offered to play chess with her while Aidan did a bad job of hiding his jealousy. She made sure the game took a long time. Aidan got bored and finally went off to bed.

Davin gave her a curious look. "My playing has not improved this much. Were you trying to delay the game?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to you."

"But not in front of Aidan?"

"I'm trying not to play favorites or make it seem like I'm playing favorites."

"So you're trying to keep him from feeling left out?" he asked, betraying none of his own feelings on the matter.

"Yes."

"Alright. What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Could we take a walk?"

"Sure."

When they were well out of earshot, she told him what the Council and Jomei had gathered about possibly hiring mercenaries. His face got hard and expressionless. "I just want to know if you think your people would do that kind of work. I don't mean to offend or anything."

He was silent for so long she was sure she had offended him. "Do you trust the Hunters to give you good information?" he asked at length.

"Yes, I do. It doesn't mean they have all the information they need. But they do the best they can."

"I need to consider this. Goodnight," he said, and abruptly turned for his own cottage.

"What in the world was that about?" she thought.

She got her answer in the morning. She was just about to head to breakfast when there was an unexpected knock at her door.

"Davin?"

"Can you get me to the Charred Lands?" he asked bluntly.

"I don't really know. I've never opened a proper portal before and certainly not to the Light Realm. I guess I could though. Why?"

"Come to my cottage after lunch, please."

"What? Why?"

But he had already turned and walked quickly away.

She did go to his cottage as he requested. When he called for her to enter, she found him packing a large backpack. "You're leaving?"

"To go home. I thought you'd have figured that out."

"But you never said you wanted to go home. You ran away from there so I thought you'd never want to go back."

"I don't want to go, but I need to go back."

"Why?"

"Remember what you told me yesterday?"

"Yes."

"That's why," he said shortly.

"Davin, I don't understand why this news means you have to go back."

He sighed and ceased in his packing. "Some of my people might join with the Order of Darkness, and if they do, the Order is going to get more than just some paid fighters." He lowered his voice. "You can keep a secret, right?"

"Sure."

"Eliora, my people are mages."

"What?" she asked blankly.

He sighed and ceased in his packing. "I suppose you should know the history. You are the LightBearer, after all. You won't understand unless you know the story."

"What story?"

"The history of the Charred Lands. This is the first story every child of every clan learns because it is so fundamental to who we are and why we stay. Starting six days before the last full moon of the year, we recognize the Days of Shadows. The first Day of Shadow was the first day of the final battle which took place in the Charred Lands. The mages had built up a mighty fortress and supplies to last decades. But the revolutionaries had a few mages in their numbers, and many of them had turned to the gods, both of Them. The battle began and the mages used their most terrible spells. They summoned wraiths and raised the dead to fight for them. They sent illusions of ghosts and specters and things so horrible it made people mad to look upon them. They even summoned the servants of the Dark One Itself to fight for them, creatures so dark that even moonlight and starlight is painful to them. Everything the undead touched wilted or rotted. Objects caught in the madness illusions were twisted into bizarre machines that sometimes took on a life of their own."

As she listened, she could almost see the events unfold in her mind.

"The revolutionaries fought back using the great weapons of war they had created with alchemy and grease and metal. The mages and clerics that fought with them used force bolts and shields and massive dispells. So much magic was used that it was impossible to tell night from day or waking from dreaming. For six days there was no sun, there was no moon, there was no rest. And on that final day, the Day of the Dead, the mages in their fortress combined their magic and unleashed a terrible spell. We know not what they were trying to do; we only know what happened. There was an explosion of such force there are records of it in the histories of the jungle lands to the south and the continent to the east. Everything was laid to waste. The revolutionary forces were incinerated, but most of the mages perished. Those that survived surveyed the scorched land and finally understood the horror of their actions. To this day, my people believe that the barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead was so damaged by that battle that on the Day of the Dead, in the light of the full moon, ghosts can be seen still fighting the final battle bound to the land they decimated even beyond their death."

"Why do I need to know this?" she asked, horrified by the tale.

"My people are descended from the mages who survived the Mage Wars. As punishment for what they had done, they were exiled to the land they destroyed. In time, they came to see it as only proper penance for their crimes. Magical gifts usually run in families, and a fair number of my people are mages of some strength. We have sworn to stay in the Charred Lands until we can restore it to a livable area. The magical training given to the mages is dedicated to fulfilling our vow. Most of the clans hold to this vow, but not all. A few are resentful that they have to pay for the crimes of their ancestors and want to return to what they see as the glory of the Mage Era. If the clerics should run across those clans, they'd be all too eager to help, although those clerics would get far more than they bargained for," he answered, speaking in a low voice and resuming his packing. "I have to return to make sure this doesn't happen."

"You don't have to go. I'll talk to the Light One and ask It to tell the clerics out there..."

He cut her off. "My people have no religion, Eliora; there are no clerics for the Light One to speak to. I must do this, or no one will. My people do not trust outsiders."

"Then why would they trust the clerics?"

"They don't have to trust them to get the information they want," he said darkly. "Some clans teach their mages branches of magic that are not related to fulfilling our vow." He resumed packing.

She was silent for a few minutes, processing this information. "When you say many of your people are mages, are you among them?"

"Yes."

"This is going to be dangerous, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I'm not asking you to risk your life. You don't have to do this."

"I know. But I am the only one. Will you take me to the Charred Lands?" he asked, hefting the backpack.

She nodded. "I will. But I don't know where you need to be. I just have a general idea of the shape and size of the area from the maps."

"Somewhere in the middle will be fine."

"But when will you come back? How will you come back?"

"I'll take care of that when I need to. Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

"Alright," she said, but she felt very much not all right. She concentrated, which took more effort than usual, and opened a proper portal into the Light Realm. She took Davin's hand and pulled him through.

The journey seemed to take some time, although it was always difficult to keep track of the passage of time with no external landmarks. The portal opened and they left the Light Realm to a bleak sight. The Charred Lands were farther north than Tallis Marrom and there were no signs of spring. The sky was heavy with gray clouds and the barren plains were covered in snow. Their breath crystallized in the air. The only sound was the howling of the biting, bitter cold wind.

"This is your home?" she said in disbelief. The desert seemed more hospitable.

"This is where I grew up. I wouldn't say it's home anymore." He pulled his cloak more firmly around him. "I have to go now."

"Go where?" she asked, gesturing to the empty land.

He smiled slightly. "I know where I am. You should go back to Tallis Marrom. You'll be missed soon and I don't know if you feel like answering any questions."

"What do you want me to tell people?"

"Just tell them I left. You don't have to tell them where. I don't even think they'll ask. I'm not very well-liked, if you hadn't noticed."

"I had noticed, actually, and I think it's quite unfair."

He shrugged. "I can't say I've done much to help myself. But that's neither here nor there. I have to be going, and so do you."

She embraced him quickly.

He looked rather surprised when she pulled back.

"Please take care of yourself, Davin," she said, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"I'll do that."

"Come back soon."

"I'll try my best." He gave her an odd look, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her square on the mouth.

She was so surprised she didn't know what else to do except return the kiss. "Wha-what was that for?" she stuttered breathlessly.

"Well, this is dangerous, so I want as few regrets as possible," he said lightly. "And it's only fair you know I feel about you. Hopefully I'll be back in a few months. Make sure Aidan stays humble, alright?"

"Sure," she said vaguely, still surprised.

"You'll be fine, Eliora. Just have faith in yourself. Until next time," he said, and trotted off into the snow and wind.

She watched him disappear, and then shook her head. "Light One, please watch over him for me. What he's doing is dangerous. I don't want him to get hurt or maimed."

Just for a moment, the clouds parted to allow a feeble ray of sunlight to touch her face.

She didn't notice. "I'm still going to worry, so I should find something else to occupy my mind." The wind howled across the empty plains. "How can a place so far north that should get plenty of rain be so barren?" She melted the snow and scooped up a handful of soil. It didn't look or feel any different than the soil in the demian city, and yet something about it reminded her of sand. She returned to Tallis Marrom and put the soil in a jar for future consideration. She got yelled at by Aidan for not paying attention in her lessons, but she didn't care. There were a lot of aspects of her future that required consideration.

Donnan soon found a new place to live. Alain was both pleased he was moving up in status, but displeased he'd be moving so far away.

"But you didn't want to be too close to me," Donnan had said angrily.

"Well, yeah, but I want to be close enough you don't forget I'm there," Alain had replied. "Anyway, this is a legit job, right, so I shouldn't have to worry?"

He had muttered something vague and finally Alain made him promise to come over once a week for breakfast.

Blake, on the other hand, was quite pleased and not surprised about Adrie's suggestion.

"Well, she doesn't like the Order, does she?" he had said. "She owed us a favor and that's how you got the interview. Of course, I think she may have gotten more out of us than she owed in the first place."

"She's that kind of woman."

"Yeah, and don't you forget it. She's dangerous, Donnan, as dangerous as Dwyer for certain."

He hadn't found that very reassuring at all, but he put it out of his mind until Aolani brought it up one evening.

"Do you like working for Mistress Adrie?" she asked over dessert.

"Well, it's better than other jobs I've had. The hours are long, but I get paid a lot better," he replied.

"But do you like working for her?"

"I don't know what you mean. I've never had a boss I really liked working for."

"Do you like your job?"

"Sure, I guess. It's not that hard even if I spend most of my days filing and, like I said, it pays pretty good."

She stirred her coffee thoughtfully. "I've spoken with her before, and my father has had many dealings with her. She doesn't seem like she'd be an easy woman to work for."

He felt Aolani had more to say on the subject. "Hey, Aolani, if you have something you want to say, go ahead and say it. I'm not going to get offended or anythin'."

"I'm glad to hear that, but that's not why I'm hesitant. Mistress Adrie has quite an influence."

Numerous guild meetings were slowly teaching him how to read between the lines of those kinds of statements. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Yes, I think so."

Aolani was still silent even after they were well away from the coffee shop.

"What is it?" he prompted.

"I don't wish to speak ill of anyone, especially not your employer, but I think you should be careful working with Mistress Adrie. I'm not entirely certain all of her dealings are completely ethical or legal."

"That's blunt."

"Well, you said you wouldn't get offended."

"I'm not, I'm not," he said quickly. "I just hardly ever hear anyone say what they mean anymore."

"I don't want to be misunderstood, not for something so important. I'm worried about you," she said with a slight blush.

He smiled.

"I don't want you to get into trouble because your employer has you doing something that may not be entirely right. I don't know how much of the history of the guild you know, but it hasn't been without scandal. She's never been directly implicated, but more than a few people who worked for her have gotten in serious trouble for fraud, tax evasion, and breaking several of the trade laws."

His smile faded. He hadn't known that, but figured he was probably too low ranking in the guild to end up the scapegoat for anything like that, although on further reflection he realized his status as a mage could work against him.

She lowered her voice. "And the Salt Guild is doing quite well these days. Some laws have passed recently that will no doubt bring more money to them. It worries me. If my father can't control the guild's ambitions, he may soon be voted out of office."

"The mayoral election isn't for another two years," Donnan replied.

"True, but the Elections Board can call for a vote of no-confidence and new elections if necessary."

He suddenly had a much better idea of what sorts of goals Mistress Adrie had in mind and he wasn't sure he agreed with them. "What do I care if her father ends up out of a job and Mistress Adrie ends up mayor?" he thought. "As long as I don't get in trouble for whatever she's doing, and Aolani is still going out with me, she can do what she wants."

"Well, anyway, perhaps I've said too much. Just do be careful. I really don't want you to end up in trouble for her unethical dealings."

He felt a pang of guilt. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I certainly hope so."

"Come on, let's talk about other things. This is depressin'."

She smiled a bit. "Alright."

They chatted about lighter subjects until they reached the end of the long walk up to Aolani's house.

"Thank you for a nice evening," she said. "I enjoy talking with you. So many men my age tend to do nothing but talk about themselves and act as though any opinion I have is completely worthless."

"I'd never think that. You know lots more than I do. I mean, you're a teacher, after all."

"Not all teachers know a lot. Trust me on that. Most of us are just really good at pretending we know a lot."

"I'm sure you're not like that. You're too nice."

She laughed. "Have you forgotten how difficult my quizzes are?"

He smiled. "Oh, yeah, there is that. But that's just the job. I really like talkin' with you too. You're smart and educated and have never talked down to me. And you're beautiful."

She blushed. "Thank you."

"You act like no one ever told you that before."

"I have heard it before, but it's still nice, if maybe undeserved."

"You deserve to hear that all the time," he replied. Hoping he was reading the situation correctly, he pulled her into his arms. "You're beautiful," he said again, and leaned down and kissed her. To his delight, she returned the kiss and it was everything he'd ever hoped it could be. After a moment, he pulled away.

"Well, I had better get in," she said shyly. "It's cold out here."

"Is it? I hadn't noticed," he replied vaguely.

She laughed. "Goodnight, Donnan."

"Goodnight, Aolani."

She turned and walked up to the door.

He watched her go and then headed home feeling better than he had ever remembered feeling in his entire life.

Not a week later, an incident occurred that justified Blake and Aolani's warnings about his employer. He was heading out for the day when he was summoned to Adrie's office by one of the other secretaries. "Always when I have a date," he thought irritably but headed to her office. He knocked politely and was told to enter.

She was shuffling papers on her desk. "Sit."

He did so. "I hope she doesn't want me to go to some party tonight."

"You seem impatient."

"Er, what?" he asked. That was a strange opening. Normally she just gave him instructions and sent him away.

"You seem impatient. Am I taking up your time?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You are going out this evening?"

"I was planning on it anyway," he answered, now suspicious. He didn't like it when she started to ask about his personal life.

Still looking over papers, she managed to look at him over the top of her reading glasses. "With the mayor's daughter?"

"Yeah," he replied, wanting to add, "So what?"

"I thought I had advised you not to see her anymore."

"You did."

"Hm."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"You are also still associating with that guard."

"He is my brother," he said sharply.

"And you are still associating with that Dark acolyte."

"Yeah."

"I believe I advised you against seeing them as well."

"Alain is my brother," he snapped.

"Well, yes, I suppose we can't get out of all our family obligations." Now she set the papers down. "Did you think about why I advised you to discontinue associating with such people?"

"I figured my brother and Blake weren't high class enough."

"That is true, but that isn't the whole reason. Surely you are aware what I have you do is not entirely within the laws of Renfrew?"

"I know."

"And as such there are several factions who would dearly love to know what it is that I am planning. One of those factions is the city guard, which would be immediately problematic if they found out. One is my political rivals, such as the mayor, which would be problematic in the long-term if they found out. And one is the Order of Darkness, which would be highly problematic immediately or in the long-term depending on Dwyer's needs. I have no wish to have my operation compromised by the law, politics, or blackmail from the Order."

"I understand that."

"Do you really?"

"Yes."

"Hm."

They lapsed into silence again.

"Mistress Adrie," he said, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt, "Please tell me why this is upsetting you."

"Now that's finally a good question. My plans are not going quite as smoothly as I had hoped. There have been some unexpected problems. Some of those factions I mentioned have gotten their hands on some information that I really would rather they not have, which is why I've had you so busy. I've been forced to wonder if there is some sort of security breach in my information network."

"You think I've been tellin' your secrets?" he asked angrily.

"It is natural to discuss one's job when one's friends. You are also young and new to the ways of politics so perhaps you haven't fully come to understand that you need to chose your words as carefully with friends as with anyone else. So you are brother to a guard, friend to a Dark acolyte, and seeing the mayor's daughter. I would not be surprised if you let a few things slip. I could forgive that, in fact. Aolani is quite a sweet and pretty girl and many a man's head has been turned by her. However, the situation is still not optimal. In time you will learn to guard your words even around friends. I'm not sure I have that time right now, so you see it would be much better for you to not associate with these people until you learn that skill. Even, unfortunately, your brother, but as he's on the night watch this shouldn't be too difficult."

"You want me to stop talkin' to my brother, stop talkin' to my best friend, and stop seein' my girl?"

"That is the situation."

He knew better than to ask because it was only going to make Adrie more upset with him, but he was angry and he wanted to know. "And if I don't?"

"Hm."

This time he did not break the silence. He forced himself to calm down and be patient as he felt the stirrings of the Dark power. The power didn't scare him like it usually did. He found it quite reassuring to know that he was the one who really had control over the situation.

"I expect a certain amount of dedication from employees. If I am not shown that dedication, I get new employees."

"You can fire me if you want," he replied, thinking, "And I'll just go to the guard and the Order and the mayor's daughter and let them know what you've been up to."

As though guessing his thoughts she said, "Clearly you think I'm too invested in you to let you go?"

"Somethin' like that."

"So you have learned something of politics. I think by the end of this conversation, however, you will learn when to better apply your leverage."

"So I'm not fired?"

"Not as such, although if you don't shape up, certain aspects of your duties may become public knowledge."

"I thought you didn't want that."

"Do you know what the Arcane Covenant is?"

This surprised him.

"But you wanted me to do magic," he snapped. "You'd get blamed too."

"If anyone believed your side of the events that have transpired, and I doubt they would, I think I could be forgiven for falling under the sway of a practiced mind mage."

"You'd lose a lot of respect."

"Not as much as you think," she said shortly.

"Right. Or else you wouldn't do it."

"Indeed." Her voice told him that he was dismissed. She started looking through her papers again.

The Dark power moved through his soul like a river. It was pushing to get out and he was angry. Now he wished he'd taken Blake's advice more seriously, but it was a little late for that. "So what makes you think you won't fall under the sway of a practiced mind mage?" he asked.

She looked up at him over her glasses. "I wouldn't have brought you on if I didn't think I had adequate protection."

"Like what? Some kind of trinket? An enchanted object you can keep on you?" he asked, and silently performed a mind-reading spell.

"Do you really think I'm going to tell you? Now get out of my office and think about what I said."

There was some resistance to his spell so he pushed harder. "No, not an object. That could get stolen. Somethin' in this room? Somethin' in all your rooms? You couldn't do that. Someone would notice."

"I said, get out of my office," she snapped, standing up and slamming her hands against the desk.

He couldn't read her thoughts clearly, but he was getting an idea. "No, no objects. No rooms with enchantments. No, it's somethin' about you. Mental trainin'? Where could you learn that kind of mental discipline? Unless you spent some time with mages before."

Her expression didn't change but her thoughts were now quite clear to him. "If you aren't out of that door in thirty seconds I will fire you."

"I don't think so. So you're a bit of a mage yourself," he said smugly.

The only sign of her surprise was a very slight widening of her eyes.

"Not much talent, just a bit. They call it magician rank. Enough to learn some mind magic that has proven real useful in your career. That explains a lot."

Her mouth was a thin, tight line. "You will not do that again," she hissed.

"Yeah, or what? I think I just proved your talent isn't enough to keep me out." He frowned. "And the singing is annoying. It's not enough to cover your thoughts. I still know what you're thinking. You're thinking how did I do that? You're thinking lie-detection is easy but readin' someone else's mind is a lot harder. And it is. But I'm still doing it. And I bet a lot of your political rivals would be real interested in knowin' you're a magician with practice in mind magic."

She just stared at him.

"Well, Mistress Adrie, maybe you should reconsider firin' me."

She slid back down in her chair and her face assumed a smile. "You may be more useful to me than I first thought."

"Look, I know what you're thinkin'."

"You've established that," she snapped.

"I'm not interested in runnin' your organization. I don't care about your political games. You want to take over Renfrew, that's fine by me. I just want to be left alone to do what I want to do. I'm not going to stop talkin' to my brother or my best friend or my girl and you're not going to bring it up again. In return you get a full out sorcerer workin' for you. Doesn't that sound like a bargain?"

"It sounds like blackmail."

"Turnabout is fair play."

"What happens to me if you decide you want more than to be a secretary?"

"I don't think I'll want to be. This suits me fine. Low profile, easy work."

"For now."

He shrugged. "Well, it's suited me up until now and you know I could get a better job or more money or whatever if I really wanted it. Just leave me and my friends and family alone and I won't make any trouble for you."

"This is very dangerous, Donnan. I'm not a woman to be trifled with."

"I know that. But if you try hurtin' me or mine, you'll find out how dangerous I am."

There was another silence. "Very well," she said finally.

"Anything else?"

"No."

He stood up and bowed to her slightly. "Then I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning." When he was out of her sight and anyone else's, he called a darkling to him. "Watch her. Listen to what she says. If it sounds like she's planning to cause me trouble, or my brother, or Blake or Aolani, let me know. But don't pop out of the shadows or anything. Just wait until I'm alone to tell me."

It bowed and vanished.

He headed out feeling pretty good about the conversation. He cleaned himself up and headed out to meet Aolani for dinner and coffee.

Winter continued to give way to spring in Tallis Marrom. It took nearly a week before anyone asked about Davin. It was Aidan who asked, and he didn't press when Eliora told him Davin had gone home. He was clearly glad Davin was gone and got even more flirtatious. Eliora found she missed Davin, and her options for company were quite limited so she spent more time with Aidan. She told no one, not even Jomei, about the kiss she shared with Davin. She decided instead to focus her attention on her duties as the LightBearer and try to avoid any greater emotional attachments than friendship, a task that Aidan was making rather difficult.

"Eliora," Aidan said, sounding exasperated one night at dinner, "I know Davin was your friend but you really need to quit moping."

"I'm not moping," she retorted.

"Yes, you are, and I'm about to take your king because you're not paying attention."

She stared at the board. "Oh. Right."

"Honestly, I just don't understand why you care about that char-kin. Char-kin aren't very trustworthy, you know, and now he's just up and run off again."

"He didn't just run off. He had something to take care of."

"Oh, what did he tell you?"

"If you really must know, he's gone back to help with the battle," she answered shortly.

"What, he actually joined the Hunters?" he replied, taken aback.

"Not exactly, but I guess what he's doing could be Hunter business."

Aidan was silent for a few minutes. "Well, that's more than I've been giving him credit for. Good. I'm glad he's helping us out. I wouldn't want to go into the Charred Lands myself and I don't think any other Hunter would either." He made another move on the board. "Say, Eliora, did you get my solstice gift? I gave it to that demian to give to you but you never said anything about it."

"Hanae did give me the gift."

"Well, did you like it?"

"Honestly, I put all of them in my closet."

His face fell. "All of them?" he repeated. "You got more than one?"

"Rather more than one."

"Well, I guess that's to be expected. So why did you just put them away like that?"

"I'm trying not to play favorites."

"But I'm the only one here now, so you can't play favorites," he said with a smile.

"That's not entirely true."

"Come on, Eliora, why do you have to so difficult? I do like you, if you hadn't noticed," he said with a blush rising on his pale face.

"I'm not trying to be difficult, exactly. And I had noticed."

"Oh," he replied, obviously disappointed.

She took one of his warriors. "I do like you too, Aidan."

He cheered up immediately.

"But I have other matters to focus on. I can't be distracted by courtship right now. By the way, you need to defend your king."

"What? You couldn't have..." his voice trailed off as he stared at the board. "Damn it. Anyway, who said anything about courtship? I'm not looking to get married, just enjoy your company."

"That's called friendship where I come from," she replied severely. Suddenly she had a lot more questions and some doubts about her kiss with Davin.

Now his face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh. I guess your culture's a bit more rigid."

"Yes, very much so," she replied, trying not to sound angry.

"I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"It's fine. You didn't. In fact, you gave me a bit more insight on this culture so I can adjust my expectations accordingly."

"You're welcome?"

She sort of laughed.

"There we go," he said, looking relieved.

"By the way, I win again."

"What?" he exclaimed, staring at the board. "How did you do that? You weren't even paying attention half the game."

"I was paying more attention than I thought."

"Well, at least the guys aren't around to see this," he said glumly, putting the pieces away. "This is humiliating."

"You're getting better."

"Oh, thanks."

"No, I mean it. I've just been playing a very long time."

"Then let's play cards now. I'm much better at those games."

"Alright."

He dealt out the game. "Are you sure about the equinox?"

She gave him a sharp look. "What have you heard about that?"

"I heard you were persuading a lot of clerics to tell the world about this battle. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, I'm not sure, but the world needs to know about this and I'd rather people have some idea of what's going on before I get into a big fight with the ShadowWalker."

"Do you think that'll happen?"

"I wouldn't have learned to fight if I didn't think it wasn't a possibility."

"So I see wanting to give the world a bit of advance notice, but won't this cause panic? Everyone here was kind of panicked when you showed up."

"It may, but I don't think there's a way to deliver this sort of news that won't run that risk. What would you suggest?"

He sighed. "I don't have any other suggestions. I'm just kind of worried about how this is going to be received. Like I said, everyone here was pretty upset and didn't know what to think, and we're all here to fight, you know? I've been thinking what my family would think if they found out about this battle, and I don't think they'd take it very well. Most people I know aren't very religious so this will come as a complete surprise. Of course, I don't know if being religious will make a difference, but I think religious people will take the news more seriously."

"You don't think people will believe the clerics when they tell them about the battle?"

"It's not that," he said, thoughtfully. "It's just most people I know don't think the gods have that much power. So when the clerics tell them about the gods' Avatars, they won't think the Avatars are very powerful. But then again, people remember the Mage Wars, and they may start thinking something like that will happen again."

"I know. The Council discussed this with me," she said. "But I don't think there's any other way."

"What do you think will be accomplished once the world knows about this battle?"

"Well, since you seem to have heard so much anyway," she started.

He didn't look a bit ashamed of himself.

"I'm hoping this will help bring the ShadowWalker into the open. I want people to start thinking a little bit more about anyone who's suddenly come into power, political, magical, or otherwise."

"Oh, you want to flush him out."

"That's a hunting term?" she asked, unsure of the meaning of the expression.

"Yeah. It means to surprise or startle the prey into coming out into the open where you can target it better."

"That's about right."

"But you know, sometimes startled prey is the most dangerous, especially if you startle something you didn't expect to find. I had that happen once. I was hunting a pheasant and ended up startling a badger. Damn thing thought it was cornered and tried to attack me. I ended up running away. The guys had a good laugh over that. But seriously, I wouldn't want you or anyone else to get hurt if the ShadowWalker reacts badly to this news. He's going to hear about it even if he doesn't go to the ceremony."

"I know. But there's no other way."

"You aren't going to the ceremonies, are you?" he asked.

"I thought I might."

"Just be careful. If you do find him, you'll know where he is, right, but then he'll know you know where he is, and that could be dangerous to you and to the city."

"I hadn't thought of that," she said. She had planned to attend the Renfrew ceremony to try to confirm her guess that the ShadowWalker was located there, but Aidan had a good point. She considered other options that wouldn't involve letting anyone know she'd already encountered him.

The spring equinox dawned bright and clear. The Order of Light had arranged for a special ceremony throughout the city-states at the main Temple of Day in each. Already the curious crowds had filled the worship room and the courtyard outside the front doors.

"Are you sure you want to be here, my Lady?" Eldoris asked.

"I'm sure. Don't worry, I won't go outside the temple," Eliora answered. "I just want to see how the people react for myself."

"As you will. I do hope our wards are enough to keep you hidden."

She had already checked the integrity of the wards that protected the building. She figured as long as the ShadowWalker wasn't specifically looking for her, she would be safe. She also didn't think it was likely he'd come into the temple proper for the ceremony. In order to get around the possibility of him seeing her, she had brought Orlice with her in the form of a common dove and sent her to scan the crowd for someone of the ShadowWalker's description. Orlice had been instructed to monitor the ShadowWalker and report back to Eliora after the ceremony was over. Eliora was going to stay in the temple and listen to the service in the worship room.

"This is not a good idea," Blake said nervously.

"I want to hear what they have to say," Donnan replied. They were standing near a side-street off the main courtyard.

"I can hear what they have to say and then tell you."

"I want to hear it for myself. If they're going to say what I think they're going to say, I want to see how people react."

"I can tell you that."

"Blake, we're stayin'."

"Oh, fine," the acolyte agreed reluctantly, and started to clean his glasses. "What if she shows up?"

"Then we know she knows where I am."

"And then you get into a lot of trouble."

"What's she going to do, arrest me?"

"I think that's the least of what she could do."

"She's not going to call me out right here in the middle of the city. Too many people could get hurt."

He replaced his glasses. "I hope you're right." He yawned. "I hope they get on with it. It's too early."

"You know, some of us have to get up in the mornin' and go to work."

"Yeah, I know, so what's your point?"

Donnan and Blake watched the middle-aged cleric, dressed all in white, walk out to the front steps of the gleaming white building.

"Good morning," Eldoris said, her voice surprisingly loud. "Today is the spring equinox, when day and night are of equal length and the moon is half-full."

"Yeah, we knew that," Donnan muttered.

Blake made a noise to indicate that he should be quiet. "You don't want to draw any attention to yourself," he whispered.

"We are glad so many of you came to the ceremony, for we have some news to share. Whether this news is for good or ill remains to be seen, so we share it on a day of balance. Many of you have come to doubt the power of the gods."

Several people looked embarrassed and slightly ashamed.

She smiled sympathetically. "The gods work in ways that are mysterious and often difficult for even us to understand."

This seemed to get a good reaction from the crowd.

"But the gods have done something that cannot be doubted. For untold millennia the Light One and Dark One have battled for dominance. For the most part, this battle has gone unnoticed, as it the struggle all of us endure every day within our own souls. But now the gods have Chosen two humans as Their Avatars. Endowed with a measure of the gods' power, these two Avatars will fight for the gods and decide whether the world is ruled by Darkness or Light."

The color left Donnan's pale face. "Gods damn it," he swore through gritted teeth.

Blake didn't look much better.

An uncertain murmur circulated through the crowd as they considered the implications of the cleric's words.

"Where these Avatars are, we do not know. They could be anywhere in the world. But in less than a year's time they will reveal themselves for what they are. It is unlikely you will know these Avatars until they reveal themselves, but as they are fighting for their gods, you may want to consider which side you are fighting for. The Dark Avatar especially will likely remain hidden, so this person will have to work through other people to achieve the ends of their god. We implore you to be cognizant of this battle and aware of the consequences your choices may have. Remember, the gods work through you. You are the ones who truly have the choice between Light and Darkness, which god you serve, and which Avatar you will aid."

The murmur got louder.

After that, Eldoris launched into a more conventional ceremony for the day.

Donnan and Blake remained through the whole speech, not wanting to leave early and appear suspicious.

"May the blessings of the Light One be upon you all," she finished, and returned to the temple.

The crowd in the courtyard was starting to disperse.

"We should go now," Blake muttered.

A gray stray cat yowled in the alley behind them.

"Go away," he said, kicking at the cat.

"No, wait," Donnan replied, startled out of his thoughts by the sound. He knelt down and the cat walked up to his hand.

"What do you care about a stray cat? Especially now?"

"This is not an ordinary cat," he answered. "Follow me. We're going to my apartment now."

"Good, please, and then you'll explain about the cat?"

He nodded and they set off with the cat continuously meowing at them.

Eliora waited until most of the congregation had left the temple and called Orlice back. "I must leave now," she said to the cleric.

"As you will, my Lady."

She bowed slightly, made sure no one else was watching, and stepped into the Light Realm carrying Orlice.

She reappeared in her cottage. "Tell me everything you saw and heard."

"So?" Blake said when they got to Donnan's apartment.

"So what?"

"So everything? What the cleric said. What you're going to do. What that cat is about."

He poured some leftover chicken soup into a bowl and set it down for the cat, which greedily lapped it up. "The cat is a gift from the Dark One that apparently has been tryin' to find me for a while now. It can change shape if I want it to."

"Well, that could be useful. But about that cleric's speech? Now the whole city knows about the Avatars. Maybe even the whole world."

He plopped down in a chair. "I don't know what you want from me. It was going to happen sooner or later. I'd kind of hoped for later, but that didn't happen. So what? No one knows it's me."

Blake started to clean his glasses. "Donnan, people are going to start wonderin'."

"No one is payin' any attention to someone like me."

"That's not true. Mistress Adrie's already gone far enough to give you advice on your social life. She is wicked smart and while I don't think she's going to jump to the conclusion that your one of the Avatars, I wouldn't be surprised if she starts wonderin' a little bit more about this mage who was recommended by the Order of Darkness."

"God damn it."

"Yeah, you see the problem. Ever tried your mind magic on her?"

"Once."

"Maybe you should do it again."

"I've got the darklings watching her. I'll know if she's going to try to something."

"Well, alright." There was an uncomfortable silence. Blake started to clean his glasses again. "So how are things with Aolani?" he asked primly.

"Do you care or do you just want to get me talkin' about something else?"

"Both."

"It's going pretty good. I see her about once a week. You know that."

"Has she agreed to be your girl yet?"

"No. I keep asking her to be exclusive, but she says she's just not ready for that kind of commitment. It's not like I asked her to marry me."

"Yet," Blake said.

"She'll come around. I'm sure of it. I mean, a few months ago she didn't even know who I was. Now she's seeing me on a regular basis. We've done a lot of kissing. I mean a lot."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Halfway to bed, are you?"

"Well, maybe a quarter of the way. I'm gettin' there, you'll see. It would be better if I could just get her to stop seeing those other guys though. She's seeing another teacher. Makes me feel like I'm not smart enough for her, you know?"

"At the rate your going, you'll certainly be rich enough for her and trust me that's all too often enough for people."

"Money don't matter to her, which is one of the things I really like about her," Donnan said wistfully.

"Donnan," Blake said thoughtfully and carefully, "when you win this battle and if Aolani never finds out you're the Dark Avatar..."

"She won't," he interrupted. "I'll make sure of it."

"Yes, well, but what if after all that she decides she doesn't want to be with you?"

"Why would she decide that? I've made myself better for her. I talk better. I learned a useful skill. I've got a good job in a powerful guild. I'm dressing better and living better. Once I win this thing, I'll have the power of a god, even if she doesn't know it. No one will ever bully me again. I can give her anything she wants. Why wouldn't she want that?"

"Well, love is a fickle thing. Believe me, we see it all the time in the Order. People who claim to love each other and then hurt each other in awful ways, or who love each other for twenty years and then just stop. And that's assuming she does fall in love with you."

Donnan stared into the corner for a long time without speaking. There was a crash of thunder outside.

"Oh dear," Blake said softly. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you, but this thing has to be decided in just about three months. That's not much time. Not that I think you'll lose, but still, that's not a lot of time. And then what will you do? Just something to think about."

"I've done everything for Aolani," he replied in a low voice. "I'm not about to let her get away from me."

Blake nervously started to clean his glasses again. "Well, Donnan, isn't that her choice?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh, yeah, of course it is. But I'll just have to make sure she makes the right choice," he answered. Then he brightened up a bit. "Which reminds me, her birthday is coming up so I think I'll go do some window shopping and find something nice for her. You want to come with me?"

"Maybe you should lay low today, just in case."

"Oh yeah," he said glumly. "That's fine. I'll catch up on my reading. Smarten myself up for Aolani."

"You do that. I've got duties to attend to at the temple anyway. I'll see you around," he said, standing up.

"Sure. I'll come by and we'll go get drinks some night."

"Sounds good. And please watch yourself, Donnan."

"I always do."

Blake shot his friend a worried look that Donnan didn't see, and then left the apartment. Donnan picked up a thick tome and started to read. After an hour, he put it down and picked up his book on mind magic. His conversation with Blake about Adrie had given him an idea.

"Maybe I can't make Aolani stop seeing those other guys," he thought, "but I can make them stop seeing her. I've used that kind of magic on people without even knowing it. They were drunk guards, but still, it shouldn't be too hard."

It was a week after the equinox. Eliora was staring at the jar of soil she'd picked up from the Charred Lands. There was another jar next to it with a scoop of soil from Tallis Marrom. It looked about the same and felt about the same, but when she closed her eyes and ignored the texture, there was something different about the Charred Lands soil. There was no life in it, and she didn't understand why. There was an unexpected knock at her door.

"Come in, Jomei," she said.

The priest walked in, looking a little confused. "How did you know it was me?"

"I just did."

"Can I have a word with you?"

"Certainly. Please sit down."

He looked a little uncomfortable. "Eliora, what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"You've met the Dark Avatar. You know exactly what he looks like. I understand you want to know what he's doing, but why haven't you told the Hunters what you know about his appearance? It would make it much easier for them to find him."

She sighed. "They'll try to kill him, or want me to kill him. I don't think I'm ready to take another life."

"But it makes no difference if they find him tomorrow or in two months."

"Why are you bringing this up now? I've known what the Dark Avatar looks like since I went to Mulago."

"The Hunters have done a great deal of work for you. Their goal, if you didn't realize this, is to destroy the Dark Avatar and return to their lives with a little more honor and glory than they would have merely defending the demians."

"I did know that."

"So what are you going to do with them, and about the Dark Avatar? What are you going to do when this is over?"

"I don't know, Jomei. I thought when I gathered the Hunters that the Dark Avatar was going to be some great warlord out to conquer and destroy. What I've found is that he's a young man my age who is at worst involved in some unethical politicking in the city-states. This is nothing new for the city-states. This is not what I thought I'd be combating. It doesn't even appear he's trying to take over. He may be helping certain guild leaders get things done, but that's hardly worth my involvement. There are likely dozens, perhaps hundreds of people who are doing the same underhanded things he is and I'm not charged with combating them."

The priest sighed. "You do bring up a good point. I, too, thought the threat would be a bit more direct."

"Which is part of the reason I wanted the announcements on the equinox. Jomei, it sounds terrible, but if I'm expected to take a life, I want there to be good reason. I don't want people to get hurt, but I'd at least like evidence that this young man is doing darker deeds than those around him. So far I haven't seen that, which is why I'm reluctant to help the Hunters move any faster."

"You're buying yourself time."

"Yes, I suppose you could use that phrase. Time isn't exactly bought. I'm trading the Hunters' time for my own, which is probably very selfish."

"You must do what you feel is right, my Lady."

"I know, but I could be wrong about what is right, which is why I want time. My father was a soldier. He told me it was a terrible thing to take another life. Everyone is someone's child. Everyone is someone's friend. Everyone means something to someone else, so to take a life is not only terrible in its own right, but it hurts so many others. To kill is to invite Darkness into one's soul. It takes great strength of character to be able to do that and not turn too Dark. He told me about fellow soldiers who became callous toward their duties and stopped caring when they had to take a life. They were trained men, strong of body and mind and heart, and they fell into that Darkness. I have learned how to handle a weapon but I have not learned to fight. I'm not strong. What if that one life taken without cause invites in so much Darkness my soul is no longer Light enough to be the Avatar of the Light One?"

"Goodness, Eliora. I had no idea you'd thought so much about this."

"I know I seem rather absent-minded and shallow and content to let things happen as they will, but it's not quite so. There comes a time when I have to make things happen and I want to make sure I make the right choices. I don't have much experience to draw on for this kind of thing. I know politics, so that's what I've used. I thought gathering the Hunters was the right choice not to so much to help me find the Dark Avatar and find out what he was doing, but to give these people here a sense of purpose instead of feeling forced into service for a cause they didn't believe in. And then I had to assert myself as leader to fulfill their expectations of their new purpose. Hopefully once this fight is finished, they will feel they've gotten what they wanted out of this and can return to their lives as an even stronger community."

"And what about you? Once you win this, you will still have the power of the god."

"I know that. And then I must decide what to do with that. I thought I would be charged with undoing the damage of the Dark Avatar and removing his influence, but if it's nothing more than a bit of politicking, then that will straighten itself out with time and I'm not sure it would be good for me to interfere like that." She looked at the two jars. "I think I need to figure out where my heart lies."

He smiled. "I can't help you with that, but I suspect you already know and are perhaps a little be afraid of acting on it."

"That's probably true. But it also seems selfish to try to be part of someone else's future when mine is uncertain."

"Well, Eliora, isn't that his choice to make?"

"Of course it is. I just want to make sure I'm not putting undo pressure on him to make the choice I want."

He stood up. "You are stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for, my Lady. You have traded the Hunters' time for your own, and it may be all you have. Don't let fear keep you from using it well."

She considered this. "Thank you, Jomei."

"Thank you, my Lady. I'm quite relieved to know you've thought your actions through like this."

"I'm just doing my best."

"That is all any of us could really ask, my Lady," he said, and left her alone.

She turned her attention back to the jars of soil.

After a month, Donnan began to feel his paranoia due to the announcement on the equinox was unwarranted. There were some interesting conversations for a week or so after the event, and the Temple of Night was vandalized by persons unknown who painted nasty comments on the main doors, but by and large interest gradually waned and people generally assumed the Avatars were someplace else in the world. The only person he was really concerned about was Alain. His brother had come to see him the day after the equinox and since then seemed nervous every time they met and would obviously avoid any discussion of the equinox announcement even though Donnan was sure Alain would know how ordinary people felt about it. He got the hint and dropped the subject with his brother and out of his mind.

He was busy with other matters anyway. He had poured over his books on magic and found a spell that was very complicated but would achieve his desired results. Basically the spell made the target regard Donnan as their best friend and therefore any suggestions Donnan made seemed very reasonable. He sent his silver companion to spy on Aolani so he knew who her suitors were and the performed the spell on them. He simply suggested to the suitors that they really weren't that interested in Aolani and that there was no reason to really tell her why, which kept his name out of any awkward conversations. It worked so well he started to perform the same type of mind magic on her friends so they couldn't take up her time either. Soon he was seeing her twice or even three times a week.

"Aolani, what's wrong?" Donnan asked as they enjoyed an evening coffee. "You seem really down tonight."

She was stirring her coffee absently. "I've just been thinking about things."

"What things?"

"Life. Career. Family."

"Oh, nothing big," he said with a smile.

She gave a weak smile in return. "Seriously though, I am a bit old to be living in my parents' house, even if it's not that uncommon for the children of wealthy parents. I should strike out on my own and break away from my family. I've got enough saved up. I could buy a small house."

"I think that's a great idea."

"You do?"

"Sure. Independence never hurt anyone."

"But I'm not sure what to say to my parents. Father's having such a difficult time politically right now I'm afraid he'll think I'm abandoning him."

"Can't you just tell him how you feel?" he asked.

"I can, but I don't want him to take this move the wrong way. It could be politically tricky for him."

"Well, I think it's a real shame when someone's family has to come in second to politics. You're his daughter. Doesn't he want you to be happy?"

"Of course."

"Well, just tell him that," he said.

"It's not so simple," she sighed.

"Sure it is. Look, I know it's hard when family lets you down, but you can't let his political problems make you unhappy. If he thinks his political status is more important than your happiness, then I think it should give you more reason to move out and make your own way. I mean, he needs to get his priorities in order. Anyway, since your father's the mayor, is there going to be a time when what you do couldn't be used against him politically?"

She nodded. "You're right. Father is usually understanding. I know this is a bad time, but if I wait until it's not, then I'll never leave. There's always some crisis," she said with a touch of bitterness.

"If your father doesn't see reason, I'm sure he will eventually."

"Thank you, Donnan. You're so understanding."

"Well, I try," he said.

"I feel much better about this already. I think that this will be the right decision in the long run, but I just wanted to hear it from someone else."

"I think it'll be really good for you. So where are you thinking of moving to? I know some nice apartments if you want to start out small."

"Meldon."

He blinked in surprise. "Meldon? What? Why?" he asked, aghast.

"If I'm going to move, I'm going to make it count. If I move out of Renfrew, it will be politically easier for my family."

"What about your job?"

"I've already talked with several schools in Meldon and I'm fairly certain I could get a permanent position starting with the summer term."

"But what about your friends?"

She looked sad as she stirred her coffee. "Well, I've found out in the past month that many of my friends weren't the people I thought they were. They can't find the time to spend with me anymore. I don't know why and they won't tell me, although I suspect it's the current political climate. So maybe it's time I found some new friends."

"What about me?"

"I'll be sorry to leave you, of course. You've been a better friend to me than I could have imagined and I like you very much. But there's just not enough here for me anymore."

"So you'll leave, just like that?" he asked, angrily.

She frowned a little. "No, when the spring term ends. You were very supportive a moment ago."

"That's before you said you were moving to Meldon."

"It's not that far away. Anyway, the location is key to the whole move. Renfrew is just not a place for me anymore."

"It could be. Maybe your friends will come around," he said desperately.

"I don't know why they should. I'm not so naïve I can't see where my father's career is headed. I don't like it, and that's part of the reason I want to leave. Besides, if the worst doesn't happen, how can I forgive them for abandoning me like this?"

"You're a very forgiving person. You forgave Reese."

"I did, but you'll notice I don't associate with him anymore. Forgiving someone for hurting you is not the same as forgetting about it. Right now, I see no reason to renew intimacies with people who are only friends when things are going well. That's only setting myself up to get hurt again." She took a sip of coffee and set the cup down firmly. "No. I'm going to leave. I'm going to start fresh in a new city. It's the best thing."

"But I don't want you to go."

"I know. But it'll be better this way."

She finished her coffee while he quietly sulked. "This isn't what was supposed to happen," he thought. "What am I going to do? I can't just quit. I've got Adrie handled for now. I guess I'll have to do that charm spell on her too so she doesn't put a hit on me or something. Damn, I'll have to start all over. Maybe I can get Adrie to get me a job in the Meldon Salt Guild. Damn it, why's she leaving? She hasn't mentioned leaving before now. What made her decide to go just like that?"

She started to count out money for the check.

"It's a guy, isn't it?"

"What?"

"There's some guy in Meldon. That's why you want to move all the sudden. Some teacher I'll bet to help you get a job."

"No, there's no suitor," she said, annoyed.

"Then why do you want to go?"

"I just told you."

"Yeah, but we're doin' so well, so there must be another guy."

A flush rose on her face. "Even if there was another man, which there isn't, it shouldn't matter because I have told you before we are not exclusive." She slapped the money down and abruptly left the coffee shop.

"Aolani! Wait up!" he called, and chased after her.

"You don't have to walk me home," she snapped. "This is my life. I'm tired of being treated as someone's possession or property who can be told what to do. I'm in control of my own life and I'm sorry if you don't like it. I'd hoped you'd be more supportive. But if you're not, then just leave me alone."

"Aolani, don't be like that," he said.

"Be like what? Assertive? This is my life and no one is going to tell me what to do. I'm going to leave this city and I don't care who objects."

"Oh, come on, you don't have to go. Please stay."

"I've made up my mind," she said, walking quite quickly.

The wind was starting to pick up and the air was turning humid and oppressive.

"But what about everything I've done for you?"

"You've been a good friend and perhaps a bit more, and as I said, I'm sorry to leave you, but this is what's best for me. If you were really a good friend, you'd offer to help me out."

"Damn it, Aolani, you've got no idea what I've done for you."

She stopped, crossed her arms, and glared at him. "So tell me."

"I've done everything for you. I've been attracted to you from the first day you walked down the street and didn't even notice me. I wanted to be higher class so I could talk to you. I wanted to get a better job so I could be higher class. I got a job with a guild and I learned how to talk and how to behave and I did it all so I could be with you," he said. "You can't leave me now. I'm sure you're friends will come around, or you can make new friends. You can have my friends. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you if you'll only stay with me and be with me."

"Donnan, I appreciate you telling me this, but it doesn't change my decision," she said in a soft voice. "I have to live my own life, not what someone else wants for me. I've been doing that too long. You have to live your own life, not a life for someone else. I'm sorry." She started to walk away.

Lightning forked through the sky and a few stray, fat raindrops hit the street.

He chased after her. "You can't go. You just can't. You're best thing that's ever happened to me. You're beautiful and smart and nice..."

"Donnan," she said severely. "I'm sorry. I like you very much, but it's not enough for me to stay."

"Maybe you'll change your mind in a couple of months. Spring isn't over yet."

"No. I need to start making arrangements now. I think we need a bit of a break. You're taking this much harder than I thought. We'll stop seeing each other for a couple of weeks so you can come to terms with this."

"What? No, no, that's not what I want at all. What can I do to change your mind? If you're low on cash, I can get you some. You want another job, well, I know some people who could help. Just let me know and I'll do it."

"There's nothing you can do," she said, exasperated. "I have to leave."

Thunder rumbled and it started to rain a little harder.

"You don't. You really don't."

"I do, I really do. Look, you go home. I'll catch a coach and see you in a couple of weeks, after you've had a chance to calm down and think about this."

He grabbed her arm. "Aolani, I'm not lettin' you go."

"It's not your decision," she snapped. "Now release me. And if you continue to behave like this, it'll be more than a couple of weeks before you see me again."

The rain was now coming down in sheets. Both of them were soaked through within minutes and didn't even notice.

"I'm not going to lose you."

"Let go," she ordered, trying to pull away.

"Damn it, I didn't want to do it like this, but you're not givin' me a choice."

"Let go of me right this minute!"

He performed the mind spell on her that he had been using on her suitors and friends. Her mouth went slack and her eyes went glassy and wide. "You don't want to leave Renfrew. Meldon wouldn't be any better. You don't need those other people to be happy. You want to stay here and you want to keep seeing me. In fact, you think maybe we should start being exclusive."

She nodded blankly.

His look turned into a leer. "In fact, we had such a good night, you think you ought to come to my apartment and spend the night, especially since you're completely soaked."

She nodded again.

"Well, shall we go?"

Her expression changed from blank to confused to finally a smile. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"How you've decided you don't need those other people."

"Oh, yes, of course. I don't need friends when it's only politically convenient. I've still got you and you're so supportive. Moving to Meldon. What was I thinking? Why should it be any different there? And I'd have to start all over."

"So, shall I walk you home?"

She took his hand in hers. "Sure, but how about your home? I've never seen your place."

He smiled. "Let's go then."

He was making breakfast the next morning when he heard a knock at the door. "Oh, right, Alain," he thought, and called, "Come in."

"Tell me you've got some tea," he said, sitting down at the table.

"You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, you're half right anyway. I thought it was goin' to be pretty dry night but not two hours into my shift this storm blows in from nowhere and it starts pourin' rain."

"Weird," Donnan said guiltily, setting down a cup.

Alain gave him a suspicious look, but didn't press the subject. "So when I was comin' to see you I swear a saw Aolani hailin' a coach right in front of this very apartment building."

He blushed deeply but looked smug. "She said she had to get ready for work or she would've stayed for breakfast."

"Huh. I didn't know you two were hittin' it off that well."

"Well, we are and we did."

"Oh, well, good for you. She's beautiful. You couldn't do better," Alain said, but he looked unsettled. "So, how are things?"

A couple of days later he was out having drinks with Blake and told him about his evening with Aolani, omitting the part about the spell. He was still so elated that he didn't notice Blake was not sharing his joy. In fact, Blake got more depressed and thoughtful the longer they talked.

"You know, I just realized you haven't said anything to me for half an hour. I haven't even gotten to the best part," Donnan said as they walked back to the temple.

"I'm surprised you noticed," he said dryly.

"I thought you'd be happy for me, finally gettin' the girl of my dreams."

"I would be, if you were being honest with me."

"What? What makes you think I'm not?"
"You've been my best friend for six years and you don't think I can't tell when you're lyin' to me or hiding something?" he snapped.

"Hey, sorry. But I still don't know why you think I'm hidin' something."

"Donnan," he said in a low voice, "Tell me the truth. Did you use that charm spell on Aolani?"

"What? Why do you think that? You think I can't win a girl like that on my own?"

"You're being awfully defensive for a guy that's done nothing wrong," he said dryly.

"If you're going to accuse me of lyin', maybe I shouldn't talk to you," he retorted, feeling unreasonably angry. "What makes you think I've done something wrong? I mean, besides the stuff you already know about?"

"I've been paying attention, you know. I've been trying to look out for you as best I can."

"Alain says that too. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, well, it never hurts to have extra eyes and ears, especially since the equinox. He keeps an eye on you too."

"What do you know about what he does?"

"Your brother has come to talk to me a few times since he found out about you."

"He what?" Donnan stuttered. "He doesn't like you."

"He doesn't like the Order," Blake correctly gently. "I don't think he has anything against me in particular. At least, that's what he says and he's a pretty honest guy, so I believe him. He told me that Aolani spent the night at your apartment."

"Yeah, I just told you that too."

"You weren't getting on that well with her."

"I was getting on better with her than you two think," he snapped.

"You're lying again. When's the last time you talked with Alain anyway? Really talked to him?"

"What's that have to do with this?"

"Did you know that Kennet has been assigned to Alain's guard troop? They're often partnered together on the night watch."

"Who's Kennet? I know that name."

"Aolani's younger brother. So they talk, and what Alain told me is that Aolani's been very unhappy. It seems most of her potential suitors and friends have stopped talking to her and won't tell her why. She seems to think it's the political situation and so does Kennet, but Alain doesn't think so. Three days ago, according to Kennet, she was ready to pack up her things and move out. She was even lining up job interviews and planning to look at apartments somewhere. Meldon, I think. Anyway, two days ago she comes home after spending the night out, which she hasn't done in a very long time, and abruptly drops her plans for moving."

"So she wasn't really goin' to go," Donnan said. "Why was Alain tellin' you this anyway?"

"Because he knows I know more about what you do than he does. He knows you don't tell him about a lot of things because it would upset him."

"So you told him what I've been doing?" he accused.

"Of course not. I'd never do that. I just told him I'd talk to you. He thought something weird was going on with Aolani's friends anyway and now she's acting strange. I know what you did to her suitors. I'd guess you did it to her friends so you could have more time with her. But did you actually use that spell on her?"

"Oh, come on, give me a break. Yeah, I did, but she was goin' to leave. Just leave, just like that. I couldn't let her go. I tried to talk her out of it, like I told you, I just didn't do it. She got all mad at me and said it would be best if we didn't see each other for two whole weeks. Even after I told her everythin' I've done for her, she still didn't want to stay. So I just changed her mind a little. That's all."

"That's all?"

"Look, the spell will wear off. I mean, it fades away with time. It's just to put in her into a different way of thinkin'. By the time the spell wears off it'll be after the solstice and I won't have to worry about anythin'. She'll have forgotten all about leavin' by then and we'll keep seein' each other so she'll want to be with me."

"You know you'll probably have to kill your counterpart to keep your power."

"What? Yeah, I know that. Why bring that up now?"

"Do you think you'll regret it?"

"Sure. What are you goin' on about, Blake?"

"Do you think it'll be worth it to kill her? So you can keep your power and your girl?"

"Anything's worth it for Aolani," he said.

"What if you have to keep using that spell on her? What if you have to use that spell on Adrie, or even Alain, to keep her around?"

"I wouldn't do that to Alain."

"You sure?"

"What're you getting at, Blake?"

The acolyte stopped and sighed. "I've been your best friend for years. I've seen you do awful things and good things. I know what you've done to keep your job with Adrie and I know what you've had to hide from your brother. You never tried to keep something from me until now. You know you've done something awful, I mean really and truly awful, or you wouldn't have tried to keep it from me. This is the first time I've really been ashamed of you."

It took a few minutes before he could find a reply. Blake continued walking. "Look, where do you get off judgin' me like this?" he demanded. "You're a Dark acolyte for gods' sake and you're ashamed of me? You haven't said a word about anythin' else. You were encouragin' me to use mind magic on Adrie and now you're bein' all righteous?"

"Keep your voice down. And this is different," he said, going into the temple.

Donnan followed him to his room and slammed the door behind him. "Oh yeah? Then tell me why this is different."

"What've done for the Order and for Adrie is business. You did what you needed in order to protect yourself and get ahead. It's all politics and I understand that. It's not personal. It's just how it goes. Aolani was personal. She's the woman you've been chasin' after for almost as long as I've known you. And you enchanted her to get your way. I didn't think you'd go so low. Would you do that to me if I did something you didn't like? Or Alain?"

"Of course not."

"Yeah, you say that, but if I asked you a month ago if you'd ever do something like that to Aolani, you'd say the same thing and be insulted I even asked. That's why I didn't ask. I didn't think I'd need to. Business is business. But friends and family aren't business. Messin' with them is personal. It just isn't done."

"I'm sure your fellow clerics would disagree."

He cleaned his glasses thoughtfully. "You know, you'd be surprised how many of them agree with me. Business is business. We get that. But you mess with me or mine, you get hurt."

"Yeah, but your business is someone else's family or friends. You're all a bunch of damned hypocrites."

"Fine, fine, maybe you have a point there. I'm just saying, this doesn't sit right at all. I should have said something sooner. It didn't sit right with me when you started doin' this to her suitors, but I figured, what did it matter? She'd find more. You didn't even mention what you were doin' to her friends. And you know, this is a lot of magic to be throwin' around."

"It's all mind magic. Who's going to figure that out?"

"Your brother will."

"But he knows me."

"Her brother knows something's weird. Whether it'll get back to you, I don't know. But you have to be careful. Maybe you should lay off of it for a bit."

"Oh, so first you encourage me to do this stuff," he said angrily, "then you tell me you're ashamed because you think I made it too personal, and now you're telling me I've been careless? What in darkness is wrong with you?"

"I'm worried about you. This isn't good for your soul."

"Yeah, well, bein' the Dark Avatar isn't good for my soul," he hissed. "So now I'm usin' that power and you're tellin' me not to?"

"I just think you should consider how you use it. Consider this, Donnan. How many clerics of my Order do you know actually use any magic? It's not as though the god can't or doesn't give us powerful magic. Most clerics chose not to ask because it's dangerous to us. It's not good to invite too much Darkness into your soul."

"I don't think I've got a choice here," he snapped.

"Sure you do. Your soul has gotten much Darker in the past month than in the nine months since the summer solstice."

"How in blazes do you know that?" he demanded.

"I've been keeping an eye on you. Have you checked the state of your soul recently?"

"Well, what in darkness did you think was going to happen to me, Blake? We talked about this at the summer solstice."

"Yeah, and at that point you were scared for the state of your soul. I wasn't, but I am now. I figured you were strong enough to handle it if you were careful and restrained yourself a bit. You didn't seem to want to do much with your power, and I understood that. I still do. But now you're doing more and I don't know if you can handle it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he snapped.

"Donnan, listen to me. I have confidence in you. I believe your soul is strong. I think if this was just the sort of thing the god did for a cleric, you'd be fine. But this isn't just some cleric power. This is a direct connection to the divine."

"You told me that."

"But it's much harder on your soul than I thought it would be. Look, Donnan, I know you want Aolani. I know you want a job with some prestige and some money to be comfortable. What happens when Alain figures it out? He's too good of a guard. He's going to make investigator someday. Are you going to do a spell on him too?"

"I won't have to. What's he going to do to me? He can't arrest me."

"Do you want to find out if the Arcane Covenant applies to you?"

"He wouldn't dare do that," he growled. "The mages would probably try to kill me for what I'm doin'. Alain doesn't want to see me dead."

"Adrie would turn you in. She already knows how this kind of magic works. She's been keeping an eye on you. I wouldn't be surprised if she figured it out," Blake said.

"Then I'll have to go talk to her just to make sure."

"And then use that spell on her. When does it stop? And you know what the worst part is?"

"Sure, go ahead and tell me."

"You're doing all this for a lie."

"What?"

Blake sighed. "You've enchanted Aolani's suitors so they stopped pursuing her. You enchanted her friends so they wouldn't see her. You enchanted her so she would stay. Yes, the spell fades, and yes, a lot can happen before it does and with the influence of the spell it's likely she will change her mind. But it's all an illusion. It's a lie. You've manipulated the circumstances so that she has no choice but to be with you. Now you'll never know if she's with you because she wants to be or because you made her."

"Well, you know what? I don't care. Either way, I get what I want."

"And that's all that matters?"

"Of course not."

"But it matters more than anything else."

"Yeah, in this case. Hey, if she'd been reasonable, I wouldn't have needed to use the spell on her."

Blake just stared at him.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, I guess. Anyway, it's late. You should go." He went over to the door.

Donnan didn't move. "What, you're mad at me?"

"Ashamed of you. Disappointed in you. And very worried."

"You're unbelievable. I can't believe I'm gettin' this kind of grief from a Dark acolyte." He felt he would prefer it if Blake was angry. He could deal with anger, but disappointment was far worse.

"That should tell you something, you know. Don't you remember all those conversations we had when I first signed up to be in the Order of Darkness? How you didn't like the Order because you thought it was unfair to manipulate people into getting our way? How you thought it was cheating? Don't you remember that? And now that's exactly what you're doing."

This served to cool his anger a bit. "Maybe the Order had some things right," he muttered defensively.

"No, Donnan, they don't. And I say this as an acolyte." He lowered his voice and met Donnan's pale eyes with his dark ones. "Look, part of the reason I was so grateful you continued to be my friend is because I need someone to remind me that there are other ways to get things done besides the Order's way. Donnan, I need you to help me keep my soul Light."

He blinked in surprise. "You never told me that," he stuttered.

"I didn't want to put too much pressure on you," he said with a wry smile. "We in the Order have to be careful about inviting too much Darkness into our souls. Friends and family, if we have any, help keep us in the Light. They remind us that people can be kind and good and honest without ulterior motives or some agenda. When you became the Dark Avatar, I decided I should do the same for you. That I should try to keep your soul from turning too Dark. Admittedly, I thought you were thinkin' small in the beginning but I've reconsidered and think it's really for the best you want so little, all things considered. You want to be comfortable and marry a wonderful woman and have the kind of life your status has denied you. That's a really reasonable ambition. I thought once you had the good job and were seeing the wonderful woman, you'd be happy enough you wouldn't have to use the Dark power. But it's only pushing you to use more of it than you ever did before. So I'm saying as your best friend of several years, please reconsider what you're doing. I'm really worried about you."

It took a few moments before Donnan could find a reply. "I don't really know what to say. I had no idea."

"That's why I figured I should tell you. Please, for the sake of your soul, take that spell off of Aolani and her friends."

"I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can."

"I can't! What's she going to say? What's she going to think? She was in the middle of tellin' me off when I enchanted her. How am I goin' to explain that?"

"You don't have to. People are very good with coming up with their own explanations when nothing else seems to fit."

"But Blake, she spent the night with me. In my bed," he said with emphasis.

"Oh, for the love of gods, did you really do that? I mean, I knew she spent the night with you but I didn't think you made it to bed with her," Blake said, looking disgusted and ashamed anew. "You enchanted her and took her to bed?"

"Hey, I figured if I was changin' her mind about movin', I'd change her mind about other things," he said defensively.

"And this is exactly my point," he snapped. "Where does it stop? Think about what you did to her. You betrayed her trust, took away her choice, and violated her, Donnan."

"I did not!" he yelled.

"Yes you did."

"So no one has ever come to the Order for somethin' like this?"

"Yeah, they do. You did something that a Dark priest might do for a supplicant. And what does that tell you?"

Shame overcame anger. "Maybe I should reconsider what I'm doin'," he said, sitting down in a chair.

"Yeah, you should. I think a good first step would be to dispell those enchantments and then you should probably apologize. A lot."

"But we went to bed."

"I know, but like I said, she'll come up with some sort of explanation. She'll remember that at the time that was something she wanted to do, and she'll go from there. I don't think she'll blame you, if that's what you're worried about. Which, really, is the least of your worries," Blake said darkly.

"It seemed like the easiest thing for me to do to get what I want," he said lamely.

"And that's the danger with power, especially this kind. That's somethin' else for you to keep in mind."

"Yeah," he replied. After a few minutes he said, "Would you like to play cards or something? I feel like I need to do something."

"Alright. You will consider what I've said?" he said sternly.

"Yeah."

"Alright. We'll play some cards," the acolyte agreed, not a bit reassured.

It was less than two months to the summer solstice. The Hunters hadn't quite found the Dark Avatar, but they were getting close. Time was growing short, and Eliora felt it in her soul. Still, she spent most of her time staring at dirt and trying to put off the inevitable. She'd tried planting a flower in the Charred Land soil and nothing happened. She put a worm in it to find out if that would help and it died. The stuff no longer reminded her so much of sand. It was gritty, but there was also a lot of very fine dust mixed with it. It reminded her of something else but she hadn't quite figured out what. She'd even asked Hanae if the demians could help. Hanae flatly refused to even touch it. When Eliora asked her why, the demian had a difficult time explaining her reasoning.

"It has no life, my Lady," Hanae had said.

"I know that. I want to know why, and I know your magic is different from human magic, so I thought maybe you could help me figure out why."

"I cannot bring that into our city. You should not have it here."

"It's just dirt," Eliora replied, puzzled.

"No, it is not. It is wrong. It has no life but it has a shadow. There is something twisted about it and we cannot help you. Please do not ask again."

Eliora let the matter drop because it was upsetting Hanae so much. She didn't feel she was much closer to an answer, but instead was left with even more questions.

She was brushing out her hair before heading to breakfast one morning when she felt something very strange, like a flash of heat and a very strong feeling she was needed elsewhere and immediately. She jammed her feet into her boots and darted out of her cottage without even putting her hair up and ran to Jomei's cottage.

"What? What?" he asked, yawning when he came to respond to her frantic knocking.

"I have to go. I'll be back later. Don't let Aidan or the Council worry."

"Wait, what? Where are you going?" he asked.

She had already turned away and walked into the Light Realm. "Light One guide me," she thought as she walked, although she really wanted to run.

She almost fell out of the Light Realm. After recovering from her surprise, she looked around. It was dark, so she suspected she was someplace to the west of Tallis Marrom. The air was warm and oppressive, but it didn't feel like it was going to rain. The area was very flat and less than half a mile away she could see flickering lights, indicating campfires and people. She realized she was somewhere in the Charred Lands, but she didn't know exactly where or why, so she prayed again. "Light One guide me and keep me shielded from unfriendly eyes." Following a vague warm feeling, she approached the lights which resolved into large wheeled vehicles of a type she'd never seen before. They reminded her somewhat of the caravans that the nomads of the deep desert lived in, which made sense, she reflected, based on what little Davin had said about his people. The dim firelight wasn't bright enough for her to determine any details. The caravans were in some sort of circle and she walked around the perimeter until she reached a large caravan. She could tell whoever was in that caravan was rich because the firelight flickered off the gilding. She walked around back and realized exactly where she was and why she was needed.

Davin was unconscious in a small steel cage, like the kind that might hold a large dog. She carefully approached the cage and wrinkled her nose. "Either he hasn't bathed, which is likely, or he's been stuck eating garbage, which may also be likely." She knelt down in the dirt and softly called his name.

He stirred and clumsily shifted around in the cage. "What?" he mumbled.

Judging by his sluggish movements, he was likely injured. Now that she thought of it, there was the smell of old blood in the air. She also realized his shirt was missing and she blushed. He put his hand through the bars.

She held it. "Davin, tell me what to do to help you. Do you need food? Do you need water? Do you need medical attention? Do you want me to just get you out of here?"

He was quiet for so long she thought maybe he'd passed out. "How long until the sun comes up?"

The sky to the east was turning faintly pink on the horizon. "An hour or so."

"I'm not that badly off. I've been given food and water. I've been beaten regularly but I'm not in any danger of dying."

"That's good to know. Should I get you out of here now?"

"How in the world did you know where to find me and know to come today?" he asked, turning to face her.

Her eyes were getting used to the dim light. She could now see one of his eyes was blackened, his lip was obviously healing from being split, and his torso was covered in scratches, bruises, and long, thin cuts.

"I don't know. I think the Light One told me. I remember I asked god to watch over you, and I guess It did. It led me right to you. It's not that I didn't think you couldn't take care of yourself," she said quickly. "But you said you were doing something dangerous and I didn't even know the god would actually answer me, especially not like this. I hope you're not mad at me. This might have been a terrible invasion of your privacy."

He just stared at her a moment. Then he started laugh.

"What's funny?"

It took him a few minutes to compose himself. "Eliora, you must be the nicest, sweetest woman in all of the world. You say a prayer with the best of intentions, get it answered by your god and come to rescue me, and then apologize because you think I might be insulted you did so." He peered at her more closely. "Your hair is down."

"I didn't have time to put it up," she said, starting to braid it back and out of the dirt. Then she realized she had nothing to hold it back with and let it fall back down. "I'm lucky I remembered my boots," she sighed.

"Are you blushing right now?"

"Well, you're only half-dressed," she mumbled.

He smiled and shook his head a bit. "Well, since you're here I suppose I'd better tell you what's going on so you can help me out."

"I'd guess you were doing fine telling people to stay away from the Dark clerics and then ran into someone who was in favor of allying with the Dark clerics and they got the better of you."

"Or you could just guess correctly and save some time. Yes, I was doing pretty well. As I said, my people aren't religious, but just because they don't believe in the gods doesn't mean they take well to being manipulated by their clerics. Unfortunately in my absence the power of the Warlord has grown stronger and he is apparently in favor of taking the Dark clerics up on their offer. My people have not been allowed in civilized lands for many centuries. If he gets his way, we won't be allowed for another several centuries."

"He's going to take a group into a city somewhere, get weapons and information, and then take over or at least cause chaos?"

Davin nodded. "Your grasp of the politics of the situation is quite good."

"Thank you."

"Most of my people, despite my dishonor, understood why I left. I helped them realize that allying with the Dark clerics would not help them against the Warlord. Then I embarked on the more difficult task of trying to convince those in the sway of the Warlord's power to not ally with the Dark clerics and try to cast off his control. I had hoped to avoid direct confrontation with his clan. I have been dishonored, but I still have to play by the rules of the clans. The Warlord never had any honor to begin with so he can cheat. In the end, I came up against the Warlord. You can see which one of us came out better," he said wryly.

"Are you in here for honor then or because you can't actually get out?"

He blinked a few times. "I've forgotten that when you listen you really do listen. It's somewhat of both, but given that I've run away before and damn honor, it's mostly that I can't get out. The cage has glyphs on it."

She looked blank.

"Magical symbols that hold small spells that can be set up by the caster to be activated under certain conditions. In this case, if I try to use any spell, the glyph will sound an alarm and I'll be set upon by half a dozen of the Warlord's guards. That's why I'm held behind his wagon. That, and because it's even more humiliating since I don't really know any spells that could damage that wagon."

She took note of the word he used for the vehicles.

"I can hold my own against three of his men in a straight fight which is likely why I'm not dead yet, but I cannot hold my own against half a dozen men in a magical combat."

"Did the Warlord remember you?"

"Oh, yes, he did. He insulted my honor, my family's honor, and told me things about my sister no one except her husband would have any right to know," he said darkly.

"I am sorry."

He sort of shrugged. "It was a risk. Today the Warlord is going to hold a trial, of sorts anyway, and I will be found guilty and then I will be executed."

"I can get you out, I'll bet, but if I just rescue you, he'll still be allied with the Dark clerics and bring more trouble to your people."

"That is something of a problem, yes, but since you're here, there may be a better way. A much better way." They talked until the first crescent of red sun broke over the horizon. Loud voices and heavy footsteps came toward the cage, so Eliora made herself invisible and moved back to watch. Actually, what she thought was, "Don't let me be seen," and felt the spell take hold. For the first time in a long time she was aware of the power of the Light within her soul.

Two large men in leather armor came around the back. Davin contrived to look asleep. One of them had a bucket of dirty water, which he threw at Davin.

He jumped a little as the water washed over him. "Good morning," he said wryly.

Eliora experienced a moment of panic as she suddenly remembered Northern was not Davin's native language. Then she calmed down a moment and thought, "Let me understand." Understanding came to her by the time the guards replied. "Magic is going to be very easy today," she thought.

The two men laughed a bit. "So cheerful? You know what's going to happen today, don't you?"

He faced them with his dark, violet-eyed stare. "I do."

They seemed a little confused for a moment.

Eliora shook her head a bit. "He's enjoying this. Can't say I blame him for that. I just hope this works."

"Well, after breakfast we'll get this over with," one said.

"Don't I get a last meal?" Davin asked.

"The Warlord doesn't like you that much."

"I got the impression he didn't like me at all."

"You're funny, for being dishonored and a marked man."

"You're hardly one to talk of honor," he snapped.

They kicked at the bars and then walked off, laughing.

The sun had fully risen when they came back. They unlocked the cage and yanked Davin out. By the full light, she could see how badly he had been beaten. His back was completely criss-crossed with cuts that could only be made by a whip and there were shiny red marks indicative of burns.

For the first time since finding him, she felt truly angry.

One of them forced a cup of dirty water down his throat as the other bound his hands behind his back. She trotted after them, trying not to bump into anyone. There were a lot of wagons in the area, but rather fewer pack or hauling animals than she expected. "Let me see," she thought, and cast a magic detection spell. The wagons lit up with strange symbols some of which she guessed helped a small number of animals pull such a heavy load. "Well, Davin did say his people are mages. A lot of their magic must go into surviving this land."

It turned out the land was not quite as flat as it appeared. The area was nothing but dirt. There was not a blade of grass or a single shrub much less a tree in the dark ground. There weren't even rocks. But there was a rather large crater in the ground, a scar of some devastating magical affect created during the Mage Wars. It was perfectly round and shaped like a flat-bottomed bowl about two hundred feet across the bottom with sides that were about twenty feet from ground level. The sides had been dug out and reinforced with stone or wood to make rows and rows of benches with aisles for walking.

The benches were nearly full. Everyone had the same darkish skin but fair hair as Davin. Many even had the same violet eyes. Their clothes were of the Northern style but looked more patchwork. She guessed it wasn't all just shabbiness; there was so much patchwork it had to be partially deliberate. Around the top were a number of men in leather armor and armed with both a short sword and a pair of knives who seemed to be guarding the perimeter, although Eliora was sure it was not from any outside danger. They were watching the crowd. On one side near ground level was a section that had been cleared of benches and had thin walls and a roof. To Eliora, it looked like a private box at a theater. There were actual chairs in the box instead of crude benches.

Davin was taken down to the flat area near the private box.

Eliora silently followed and watched, feeling both apprehensive and a smoldering anger for what had been done to Davin. It wasn't long past dawn but the air was already baking hot, not that it bothered her. She looked at the assembled audience. Most of them looked scared, although some looked bored or unconcerned. These, she noted, seemed to be wearing clothes of better quality and looked less thin and starved. She guessed these were of the Warlord's clan, and the rest were there through some form of coercion. Only the box was empty.

In a few minutes, it was filled by more men in leather armor, a quite lovely but frightened-looking young woman, and the Warlord. There was no doubt he was the one in charge. His armor was better, his boots better, he carried himself like a leader, and he took the largest chair in the box. He was in his forties and moved with an arrogant ease. Eliora guessed the young woman was his wife and she wasn't too happy about the arrangement, but too scared to do anything. She also noticed that in addition to the short sword and knives on his belt, there was also a black whip.

"Welcome, people of the Charred Land," he said to the crowd in a loud, booming voice. "Today we are here to try and execute the traitor Davin, a man without clan and without honor, who ran away from the Charred Land nearly a year ago and so was exiled, yet dared to return even knowing he was under a death sentence. Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"I've been dishonored," he said quietly. "You are the one without any honor."

One of the guards punched him in the ribs.

"This is no way to try to get your honor back, boy," he snapped.

"I came of age seven years ago," he said mildly.

The other guard punched him in the arm.

"You're nothing but a child to me."

"Then why so frightened of me?"

Both guards hit him.

Eliora bit her lip nervously but waited.

"You are a trouble-maker and malcontent. I will restore the people of the Charred Land to the glory and wealth that is rightfully theirs instead of convincing them they must remain in this godforsaken place as some wrong-minded penance for crimes they didn't commit!" he roared.

"Clearly that's a speech he's given before," she thought with her politically oriented mind.

"By allying with Dark clerics to sell out our people as mercenaries?" he retorted. This rewarded him with more punches.

The Warlord waved off the guards, who took a few steps back.

"I'm not allying with them. I'm using them, just as they would use us. But they'll find they've gotten far more than they bargained for."

"And you'll only convince the people of the city-states we are nothing more than thugs and thieves."

"It's better than trying to scratch out a living here."

"Then why don't you just leave and leave the rest of us alone?" Davin snapped.

"What, run away like you did?" he sneered.

To Eliora's surprise, he looked repentant. "I should not have left. I was a coward."

There were startled looks and gasps of surprise.

"My dishonor is deserved. My family had been murdered, my clan all but destroyed by yours. I should have stayed and taken vengeance. But I did not. My heart was so full of despair I could not even perform my last clan duty. So I ran."

"You shouldn't have come back," the Warlord said, grinning. "Stupid boy. You came back and you will die."

"I had to come back. I heard that the Dark clerics had been sent to these lands to find mercenaries for their cause. I knew it would be dangerous to ally with them, so I came to warn my people."

"Why fear those clerics? We are mages here. They are but stupid men who pray to a non-existent god for power they'll never receive."

"I've told you, the gods do exist and they can get power; great power if the god so desires it. It is dangerous to underestimate those clerics and the power of their gods."

"Your time with outsiders has made you weak and foolish. No one believes in the gods. They've never shown Themselves to us."

"Did you ever ask?" Davin replied.

There was a faint ripple of laughter through the crowd.

"There's never been any need. I've done quite well without the gods. And where has your newfound belief gotten you? It caused you to return, knowing you were marked for death. What sense is that? Surely any gods would have told you to stay well away from here."

"The gods don't dictate our choices. It was my choice to come here."

"So it was your choice to die."

"I knew it was a risk, but all things considered, I'd rather not die," he said.

"And live with dishonor?"

He shrugged. "If you are what is now held up as a man of honor, I think I would prefer dishonor."

The guards advanced again, but the Warlord waved them back. "It's hardly worth my honor to kill you."

"If you allowed me a chance at a fair fight instead of beating me like a dog, it might have been."

Again, the guards moved forward but were held back by the Warlord's slight wave.

"You keep that up and I won't stop them from giving you what you deserve."

"I thought that was the point of this little show," Davin said wryly.

"You know, if you should throw yourself on my mercy, I met yet show you some. You are a skilled fighter and I believe you have some intelligence, most appearances to the contrary," he said with a sweeping gesture to the assembled crowd.

"Mercy? Must you literally add insult to injury?" he snapped. "You have no mercy. And you know I'd never work for you. You murdered my clan. To agree to your terms would only give some legitimacy to my impending execution."

"After running out on your clan duties, you now choose to die for principles?"

"I will die for honor. However, I don't plan to die today."

Now a lot of people laughed. "Clearly you've gone mad," the Warlord said. "You have no weapons. Your hands are bound so you can't cast spells, and you've shown you know nothing of any use in a fight anyway, and you are the last of your clan. You are alone."

"That's not true."

The Warlord clearly thought he was referring to the assembled and scared audience. "They are watching, but they won't help you." He addressed them. "Will any of you come forth to defend this traitor to our ways, this dishonored man who dared return from exile and who wants to see us slave our lives away in these wasted plains?"

There were many worried glances, but no one said a word.

The Warlord grinned.

"Eliora, that would be the cue for you to show yourself," Davin said in Northern.

"Sorry," she said, and took a second to dispell the invisibility.

Now no one said a word, but it was for an entirely different reason.

"I didn't want to appear at the wrong time," she replied as she unbound his hands.

"Kindly put up a shield spell. The men on the perimeter have longbows and offensive spells."

She quickly did so and started to look over his wounds. "This is awful."

"What in blazes is going on here?" the Warlord suddenly bellowed. "Who in blazes is this woman?"

"Such language," Eliora snapped in the language of the Charred Lands, still looking over Davin's wounds. "You should not speak that way in polite company."

Davin gave her a look much like the Warlord. "You're angry. You're really angry," he said, switching to Northern to talk to her.

"Of course I'm angry. Look what he's done to you. I don't know if I can fix this. I don't know any healing magic. I don't know if that even works on scars. You were just trying to do what you thought was right. Were you going to try to get revenge?"

"No. It doesn't matter, does it? My family and clan are gone and even if died, it wouldn't bring them back," he said, noticing the fine dirt at his feet was being kicked up more than their movement explained.

"And honor?"

"Those that matter understand and would forgive my transgressions and restore my honor if I asked."

The guards and people just looked confused and stunned. The guards turned to the Warlord quite helplessly.

"Kill her," the Warlord ordered, looking frustrated.

Several projectiles and a few force bolts were aimed straight at her, but bounced off her shield spell harmlessly.

The audience started to get fidgety and whispers started flying.

"So you brought a mage with you. That, I admit, is a bit unexpected." He didn't look happy at this sudden element of surprise in his carefully controlled show.

"He's confused that you cast a spell without using the usual props," Davin said in a low voice.

"It's less than two months until the solstice. Magic is easy."

"Do you think this mage can save you?" the Warlord demanded.

"She's doing a pretty good job so far," he said wryly.

"There are a lot more of us."

"True enough, but she's not a mage."

"What kind of fool do you take me for, boy?"

"That would take much too long to explain," Davin retorted. "She's not a mage."

"Oh, I see. You've brought a cleric with you. That would explain a lot," he said thoughtfully. "Well, this is quite the surprise. A cleric of the Light One?"

"More or less."

"Interesting. Those Dark clerics may be more useful to us than I first thought."

"You still think you can control them?"

He fixed an intense stare on Eliora and started to make arcane gestures with his hands carefully out of sight. "Mind magic is a most useful discipline."

The spell bounced off the shield in her mind created by her link with the Light One, a shield she didn't even know she had. It also allowed her to recognize the spell for what it was and it made her angrier.

"It's not working very well," Davin said mildly. If he concentrated, he could feel a very slight tremble in the ground. "Now what are you going to do?"

"I'm still the ruler here. I still have my clan and my guards. You have one cleric and your weak magical talent. How long do you think you can hold out? I suspect even clerics grow tired when they use too much power. And you, outsider, what do you have to say for yourself? Why are you protecting this cowardly traitor?"

She looked at Davin for guidance, but his shook his head slightly, which meant she would have to address the Warlord directly. "He came back at great risk to save his people from the danger of Dark clerics and a murderous tyrant. I see that as both brave and loyal."

He forced a smile. "So you believe his lies?"

"He's telling the truth."

"And that's enough for you to stand beside him and risk death? Come, be honest. Why have you really decided to help him? What's he doing for you?" The way he asked this caused several of his guards to snicker loudly.

But Eliora didn't blush, which surprised Davin. "First you try to cast a spell on me and now you insult me?"

"I cast no spell."

"You're a liar."

"You shouldn't believe what traitors say," he said condescendingly.

"Even if I didn't believe anything Davin told me, I can see evidence that he's telling the truth right here. You tried to cast a mind spell on me and lied about it. You're a coward and a bully and I know that because you've been keeping him in a cage and whipping him. You've even got the whip on your belt!"

"How dare you, outsider?" he roared.

"How dare you! If you're so brave and honorable, why lock this man up in a cage and beat him and whip him like some kind of animal? If you're so confident in your leadership, why stage this political theater unless you know people were actually listening to what he said? This is nothing but grandiose political posturing designed to kill an idea, a very dangerous idea, that maybe you aren't such a good leader and maybe allying yourself with Dark clerics is the wrong move for these people."

His mouth was a very thin line. The audience fell silent again. The Warlord hopped out of the box and strode forward. "Fine, outsider, I challenge you to a fight."

She looked again at Davin.

"I didn't expect this," he said. "Do what you feel is right. And the ground is shaking, if you hadn't noticed."

She hadn't noticed, but she was aware of the slight rumble now that she thought about it.

"And don't speak that outsider language," he snapped. "Listen to him! Speaking an outsider language. Bringing in an outsider to save his pathetic life. I'll kill you and then I'll kill him and be done with this business. These are my people. I rule them and they will do as I order." He drew his short sword.

"Davin, stay back," she said in his native language. "Stay in the shield."

"You'll do fine," he said.

She walked forward, still dressed only in ordinary clothes. "Shouldn't you give me a weapon or something?"

"Shouldn't your god provide what you need?" he sneered.

"Oh. Right." The blazing longsword appeared in her hand.

He took a few hurried steps back.

The crowd made startled noises but none of them could take their eyes off the unfolding scene. Even the guards had abandoned the pretense of crowd-control.

"I am an outsider, so I have a different fighting style. Is that going to be a problem?"

He just stared at the blazing sword, and then smiled. "Oh, an illusion. How very hypocritical of you to accuse me of staging all this and then creating an illusion sword."

"It's a real sword and it's real fire."

"You're a liar now. No one can control the elements."

"He's right about that," Davin said in Northern. "We have records. Even clerics can't do that."

"Strike my sword with your blade and see what happens," she offered, holding it up.

"You realize this does not formally start our fight?"

She nodded. "Although you think this is a good opportunity to try to break my arm with a blow," she thought.

He raised the short sword over his head.

She brought the longsword up in defense and made sure the fire was good and hot.

His sword smashed into her blade with a definite solid, metallic ring. Then he leaped backwards, nearly dropping his sword. "That's hot!" he exclaimed. It was hard to tell if he was more surprised by the heat or by the fact she had taken the shot without even flinching.

"Are you sure you want to fight?" she asked. "I think I have a bit of an advantage with this sword."

"But you have no armor."

"Of course I do." In a flash of light, she donned the white, shining Armor.

"What sorcery is this?" he muttered.

"It's not sorcery. It's divinity." Then she sent the sword away. "But it's not really a fair fight, is it? I'm not just any cleric of the Light. I am the LightBearer, Chosen Avatar of the Light One," she said, her voice rumbling slightly. "I wield fire," she said, and an arc of flame danced between her hands. "I control the very ground beneath your feet."

Now Davin didn't even have to concentrate to feel the shaking. Everyone else clearly felt it too and started to look a little alarmed.

"I have more power than any sorcerer or any cleric. I can destroy you, I can destroy your clan, and I can do more damage to this land than one hundred Mage Wars." White light was flaring around her in a glowing aura. Her voice was echoing with power and her eyes were glowing white from edge to edge. "These Dark clerics you think you can control are working for my counterpart, the ShadowWalker, Chosen Avatar of the Dark One. You can see how well you'd fare against me in a fight, and I am fighting for Light."

The Warlord stumbled backwards a few steps. The guards in the center area had already retreated to the aisles along the curved wall.

"If you were in my position, no doubt you would simply slay your rivals where they stood. But I'm not like that. To fight you would be unfair and I won't resort to that kind of dishonorable conduct." The fire disappeared and the ground steadied. The Armor vanished although her eyes were still white. "I'm not here to pass judgment. I'm not here to convert, and I'm not here to fight. This is not my land, and I am an outsider to these people. I came here to help my friend. Your fight is not with me, not yet anyway. Your fight is with Davin."

She took a few steps back until she was even with Davin.

He was just staring at her. The flaring light was gone but her stature had not diminished. He regained his composure and addressed the dumbstruck audience. "I believe my case has been made. Everything I have told you is the truth. You have seen magic today that should otherwise be impossible. You felt the ground shake beneath you. You saw the Light. This land has enough trouble." He shot a black look at the Warlord. "I think it's time we cast as much Darkness from the land as possible."

It was nearing midnight. The chaos of the day had finally been settled. Eliora had to send an iridescent to Jomei to let him know she would be gone for a few days and not to worry. Once the people saw there was a greater power than the Warlord, they revolted. It was nearly bloodless because all the guards on the perimeter had run for it when they saw what was happening. The Warlord and his men who couldn't run had put up a fight, but they'd lost and been imprisoned in his wagon after it had been stripped of everything valuable. Eliora had mostly stayed with Davin, and at his suggestion spent a few hours putting glyphs of warding against fire on all the wagons. She also made sure the shield spell stayed active just in case. He did a lot of talking and a lot of listening. She didn't fully understand the nuances of the politics, but she got the idea. By the end of it day, a new leader of the Warlord's clan was in place, and Davin had his honor restored although he still had no clan but no clan could accept him as part of their own.

"I still don't understand why they can't take you back," Eliora said as she tended to his wounds. He'd been given guest quarters, a bath, and some clothes. She gently dabbed at the cuts on his back with antiseptic to clean them out thoroughly then used magic to close them up. This method didn't leave scars, but it seemed there was nothing she could do about the scars he already had. "Where I come from, community is the most important thing. They restored your honor, after all."

"It's very complicated," he sighed. "I'm glad they did that, but my clan is dead. Even the survivors are now part of a new clan. Actually, if that wasn't the case, they couldn't even restore my honor." He winced as she tended to him but didn't make a sound.

"I suppose that's something. It's just not fair after all you've done." She sighed. "But then again, my land has some strange and unfair rules for community as well."

"All things considered, I'm pleased with how things turned out."

"You're going to be scarred for life."

"At least it promises to be a long life," he said.

They lapsed into silence.

"What have you been doing these past months?" he asked.

"Delaying the inevitable. I'm afraid to fight the ShadowWalker. I'm not afraid I'll lose, but I am afraid of what it will do to my soul to kill him. And I'm afraid of what comes after."

"I'm not afraid for your soul. You were so angry this morning you were causing the ground to shake but you didn't lay a hand, blade, or a spell on the Warlord."

"Don't think I didn't want to."

"I know you did. I've never really seen you angry before, and I believe you could have hurt him. But you didn't. Why not?"

"It wasn't my place."

"Then why worry for your soul?"

"Because it is my place to kill the ShadowWalker."

"No, it's your place to stop him."

"And I think that means I'm going to have to kill him. I wasn't aware until this morning how much stronger the Light had grown in my soul. It's like a bright, comforting flame to me, but unmistakably divine and present. If the Darkness has grown as much, I can't imagine how anyone could withstand it. It must be awful, like a cold, dark river always trying to pull you down."

"Then as long as you understand the consequences of taking a life and don't do it out of anger or fear, I believe your soul will be fine. Not unscathed, but fine."

"Thank you," she said.

"Why do you fear what comes after you win?"

"Because I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't go back to my desert. I could stay in Tallis Marrom but the Hunters won't be needed anymore. They can disband and go back to their lives. But where do I go? What do I do? I will have so much power I can't even try to live a normal life."

"What do you want after you win?"

"I don't know. I'd like the things of a normal life. I'd like to have a useful job and find a place to settle down and have a family."

"And you don't think you can do that in Tallis Marrom?" he asked, his voice betraying no emotion.

"No. I like the men there, and Aidan is a great friend, but I can't stay there. It causes too much trouble to have that many young men and only one eligible young woman. Besides, what would I do if I didn't start a family? They only taught me to fight because it seemed to be the only thing they could do. I don't see myself spending my life there to defend the demians from the occasional bandit attack."

"What about serving the Order of Light?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm a bit put off by the Order since mine essentially exiled me from my home," she said bitterly. "I know it works differently in other places, but either I'd be a leader or I'd be a follower. I don't want to lead because I don't think I'm qualified to make judgments about people I don't even know. I know I lead the Hunters, but I don't tell them how to live their lives, which is what the Order does. I don't want to follow because I'd constantly be second-guessing my assignments to make sure I was doing the right thing, not following someone's political agenda."

"You've had a lot of time to think," he said after a minute's consideration.

"I have to face the future some time and there hasn't been a lot to distract me, despite my best efforts." She healed the last open wound, which was an ugly burn mark. "You're all done."

He pulled his shirt on. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that. There are proper Healers here and you've used a lot of magic today."

"I know. But I thought you'd want a friend to tend to you."

"Why did you follow the Light One's direction today?" he asked, facing her.

She looked puzzled. "I had to. I told you this already."

"You didn't even know what was wrong. What you did was reckless, like when you ran to fight that wildfire."

"True, but I knew something was wrong even if I didn't know what. I knew I was needed. And that was enough for me."

"Enough for you to run out of your house without breakfast or even put your hair up and probably worry Jomei half to death."

She sort of shrugged. "Well, I certainly didn't think about it like that at the time. I didn't really think about it at all. I had to be some place, I knew that, and I had to be there fast." She tried to run her fingers through her glossy black hair, but stopped when they got stuck. "I suppose if this tangled mess is the worst I've suffered today, then I'm doing pretty well for running recklessly into the unknown without so much as a bite of porridge."

He laughed. "Turn around. You helped me out of my mess, so I'll help you out of yours."

"This hardly compares," she said, handing him a brush.

"You're right. I'll have to thank you properly."

"There's no need for that and you know it."

"Eliora, would you sing for me?" he asked after a minute.

"Alright." By the time she finished the song, he had managed to restore order to her long hair.

"That was beautiful. What was it?" he asked.

She turned around. "The title is 'The Dream of Rain.' 'May you dream of rain' is a kind of blessing in my language."

"That makes sense to me. You come from a desert after all."

She nodded. "So the song is a song of renewal and hope of a bright future. I thought given the events of the day it was appropriate."

"Thank you. But what of your future? Isn't it bright?"

"It's uncertain."

He took her hand. "It doesn't have to be."

"I don't want to impose," she stammered.

He smiled and shook his head. "Eliora, only you would say something like that. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."

"What exactly are you offering?" she asked, suddenly remembering her conversation with Aidan over courtship.

"I'm offering you a useful job, to help heal the Charred Lands from the scars inflicted from the Mage Wars, if you want it. I'm offering you a place to settle down, eventually anyway, if you'll take it. I'm offering you someone to start a family with, if you'll have me."

"Jomei was right," she thought. "I do know where my heart lies. I just needed the courage to say so." Then she threw her arms around him and kissed him. The kiss was warm and soft and fiery all at the same time.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said breathlessly.

"How come you never said anything before now? All those times on the watchtower you could have said something. You just kissed me and walked off into the snow."

He met her dark eyes with his intense violet ones. "Don't be coy with me now, Eliora. One thing I really like about you is your honesty. I never said anything but I think I made my feelings fairly clear even before I first kissed you."

"Well, I am kind of flighty. I often don't pay attention to the things I really ought to."

"I think you were paying attention in this case. You aren't surprised, are you?"

"No, I guess I'm not. I guess I'm used to men being a bit more obvious. The other men in Tallis Marrom certainly were. Even my suitors back home were. You never even flirted properly with me. You really did surprise me when you kissed me good-bye."

He shrugged. "I do things my own way. I wasn't sure how much I liked you when I met you, but I saw that you were terribly alone and grieving, so I reached out to someone I thought was a kindred spirit. You accepted, and it turned out I got a lot more than I expected. You let me be myself whether I was in a good mood or a bad mood or wallowing in self-pity and lashing out to those around me. Do you know why I stopped seeking revenge for my family's death?"

"You realized it wasn't worth it."

"Yes, but do you know why? Vengeance is taught as a clan duty from the time we are very young. It was ingrained in me as your deference to authority was ingrained in you. Before I met you, I thought about returning every single day to get revenge. Even after I met you, I thought about it often. But the more time I spent with you, the less I thought about it. I really only thought it about it again on my birthday. And I am sorry about that. I don't know if I can apologize enough for my harsh words."

"Davin, I forgave you then. Let it go," she said with a smile.

"You are amazing," he said, kissing her again. "I was even packing to leave that night when it occurred to me there was no reason to leave. Vengeance wouldn't bring my family back. Vengeance wouldn't undo the suffering the Warlord had caused to my clan, or me. I realized that thoughts of vengeance only kept me from healing. It only kept me tied to my grief. Talking to you helped me realize that. I also realized that despite my best efforts and the prejudice of the people around me, I had made a kind of life for myself in Tallis Marrom." He squeezed her hand gently. "I realized I had something to live for. I can never thank you enough for that."

"I was just trying to be your friend," she said, blushing slightly.

"I know. That's the most amazing part of it all. You were kind, you were gentle, and you were willing to listen. You were just trying to be my friend."

She leaned into him and they lapsed again into silence for awhile. "Are you sure about this?" she asked as he stroked her hair. "You saw what I did today. I know it's frightening. And I think I'll have even more power once the battle is over."

"Eliora, I would never offer if I didn't think I couldn't handle what was coming. You let me worry about me. You worry about this battle and yourself."

She yawned.

"You should get to bed."

"I should stay here just in case something happens tonight."

"Alright, but you should go to bed anyway."

She blushed furiously.

"I'll take the couch. You go on," he said gently.

She stood up. "I could still lose," she said.

"I know."

"And you're alright with that?"

"The risk of loss is one we all take when we care about others," he replied.

"I guess that's true. I never really thought about it."

"Most people don't. Trust me, Eliora, I've thought this one through."

"And I hardly ever think anything through," she said, smiling. "I guess we complement each other well, strengths and weaknesses and all."

"And that's how it should be. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said, and went to bed.

In less than a month spring would officially give way to summer. Renfrew was warming up. Donnan had considered Blake's concerns, but mostly ignored them. He did use the domination mind spell on Adrie so she wouldn't make trouble for him and had her give him a nice raise in the bargain. He reluctantly removed the mind spells from Aolani's friends, but not her suitors or her. However, he didn't renew the spell either. He told himself he'd remove all the spells after the summer solstice. He also had checked the state of his soul and was surprised at how Dark it had become. This frightened and disturbed him, so he vowed not to use so much power. However, once aware of the Darkness it was hard to ignore that power as it constantly tugged at his soul.

There was an expected knock at the door. "Come in, Alain," he called.

His brother walked in looking tired as usual.

"You know, I could get you a better job," he said. "Or you could try to get a different shift. You always look so dead tired."

The older man shrugged. "I like the guard and I like night shift. I feel useful. Anyway, it's good experience to help me get to investigator someday."

"You really think you'll get to investigator? I mean, you aren't really the right class."

"Hey, it is possible to make it without bein' the right class. A lot of investigators got their job through skill."

"Skill alone?" Donnan asked.

Alain sighed. "Mostly skill anyway." His eyes fell on a gauzy purple scarf hanging over a chair in the living room and narrowed. "Was Aolani here again?"

"Yeah, but how did you know that?"

"I'm payin' attention," he said.

Donnan followed his brother's eyes. "Oh, she must have left that. Well, maybe you'll make investigator after all."

"Didn't Blake talk to you?"

"Yes," he said tightly.

"She's hangin' out with her friends again, but you're the only guy."

"We're exclusive now."

"I don't think that would discourage too many guys away from a woman like Aolani. I heard she was exclusive with Reese for a while and still had plenty of men tryin' to get her attention."

"You can't believe everything you hear."

"Guards do gossip but they're usually truthful about it."

"Are you about to give me another lecture?" he asked.

"Yeah. Seems like it's time for one, maybe even past time."

"I don't want to hear it," he snapped.

"Well, you're goin' to. I'm not goin' to lay into you about whatever you do for the Order or for the Salt Guild, but you know castin' that spell on Aolani and her suitors is wrong."

"Blake said he wouldn't tell you about that," he exclaimed, suddenly angry.

"He didn't. I guessed and you just confirmed it."

"Oh. Is that some sort of guard trick?" he asked nastily.

"It is. So I'm also guessin' that spell makes people take your suggestions even if they usually wouldn't."

Donnan seethed, but said nothing.

"Right. Well, fine, you told her suitors to go away. Then you told her friends to go away. Then she decides she's goin' to go away and you tell her to stay. That's bad enough, but you took her to bed. And damn it, when a Dark acolyte tells you that this kind of thing is wrong, you damn well ought to listen. Instead, you're still doing it."

"I haven't cast anymore spells on her," he shot back.

"Yeah, well, you haven't removed any, have you?"

"Sure I have."

"And now you're lyin' to me. Gods damn it, I thought you knew better. You can't just use your power like this! You can't take away other people's choices."

"Why can't I use my power anyway I want?" he demanded. "Who's going to stop me?"

"That's not the point, damn it," Alain shouted. "Just because you want to and you can doesn't mean you should. Damn it, didn't all those years were we put down and held back teach you that lesson? What makes you so different from every boss that cheated us out of a paycheck because he could? Or every guard that ever messed with us because he could? Huh?"

"Hey, I'm not just messin' with people because I can. I just want to get what I deserve. I want a good job and I want a wonderful woman. I'm just doin' what I have to. It's not like I'm beatin' people up in dark alleys or tryin' to overthrow governments," he yelled.

"Damn it, it don't matter what you're doin', it matters how you're doin' it," Alain replied, frustrated but slightly diminished in volume. "Look, you know you're doin' wrong or you'd tell me what you're doin'. Gods, you're even lyin' to Blake now and he knows what you're doin'. I was so proud of you for not joinin' the Order of Darkness. I knew you thought that was an easy way, a cheatin' way, to try to overcome being poor and low class. I was proud because you were tryin' to work your way up honestly. But now you got power and you're abusin' it. I'm ashamed and disgusted to be your brother right now."

That stung him into silence.

Then there came a very small and unexpected knock at the door.

"Come in," Donnan called.

Aolani shuffled into the room and carefully shut the door behind her. Her face was pale but her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

"Aolani? What're you doing here?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I left my scarf. I came back to get it. You-you were shouting," she said, trying to stifle a sob. She swallowed hard. "I overheard. It was rude, but I overheard."

The color drained from his face.

"Oh, gods," Alain muttered.

"What did you hear?" Donnan asked, now just trying not to sound too anxious.

"I heard enough. I-I didn't know you were mage. I don't mind. I'm not afraid like a lot of people. I know why you wanted to learn Arcana now. But-but I heard him say you cast a spell on me. Some kind of mind spell. Did you do that?"

"I think you misheard," he answered.

"You're goin' to lie to her with me standin' here?" Alain snapped.

"You did. It makes some sense now. Why my suitors went away. Why my friends went away. Why everyone was so surprised I stopped planning to move away." A few tears slipped down her cheeks. "Why did you do that? Didn't you trust me? Didn't you trust my judgment? I thought-I thought you liked me. I thought we were friends. I thought we were maybe more than friends. How could you? How could you?"

"I didn't want you to go."

"You lied to me. You-you took away my friends. You forced me to stay." Now her face was flushed scarlet with anger. "You took me to bed. To bed!" She walked right up to him and slapped him across the face.

It left a red hand print on his pale cheek.

"You take that spell off of me right now! Right now. You take it off. I-I won't turn you into the mages because you were my friend. But you take that spell off and I never want to see you again."

"Aolani, please, let's talk about this."

"No!" She tried to calm herself as the tears fell freely down her face. "No. We're past talking. You take that spell off of me right now!"

He looked at her, then looked at his brother, who was standing with his arms crossed and an angry expression on his face. But he felt the Dark power within him. "I want so little in my life," he thought angrily. "What gives Alain the right to boss me around any more? I'll take the spell off after the solstice. But right now, I'd better make her forget this." He cast a spell on her that would make her very sleepy and forget the conversation by the time she woke up. "Alright, I'm done," he said.

She blinked a few times. "Alright. I'm leaving now. I'm really sorry you couldn't trust me," she said, and picked up her scarf and marched out the door.

"Not a blazing word, Alain," he snapped.

"I think Aolani pretty much said it all. You know better and this is what you get for it."

"Yeah, well, you're a self-righteous jackass and you can get out of my apartment," he retorted, and opened the front door. "Go on. I've had enough of your lectures. You've got no right to tell me what to do."

Alain just shook his head and walked out the door.

Donnan followed by casting the same spell on his brother as he had Aolani. "Just so you don't get all suspicious when she's still seein' me," he thought guiltily. "It's better this way. Damn it, Alain, if you'd just be reasonable I wouldn't have to do this."

Eliora ended up spending three days in the Charred Lands and returned every evening after the rest of her duties had been completed in Tallis Marrom. The Council wasn't particularly happy to hear she was working in the Charred Lands, but accepted her explanation that she was trying to keep the people from allying with Dark clerics. Aidan, quite pointedly, did not ask where she was going or why. She knew that was coming, but there was something more important looming in her future. In the meantime, she continued to distract herself with the puzzle of the Charred Lands. In the summer there was no wind. The air just hung, heavy, hot, still, oppressive, and as dead as the dirt. She felt she was close to understanding what had made the land so barren when the future caught up with her.

What she had been dreading came three short weeks before the solstice. She was in the usual meeting with the Council when Hialmar presented her with a list.

"We've narrowed it down to a dozen people, in order of their likelihood of being the Dark Avatar," he said proudly. "We've got their names, who they work for, and where they live. We can find out who the Avatar is by the end of the week if we push hard enough."

She looked at the list. "How do you plan to find out?"

"We were hoping you could give us some sort of insight or spell to help us," he said.

She shook her head. "I have to do this myself."

The Council was not happy. "What? Why?" Hialmar demanded.

"It's too dangerous. I can't promise you that the Dark Avatar wouldn't be able to notice any spell I gave you. You've done so much for me already I'm not going to let you needlessly endanger yourselves."

"How are you going to find him if not a spell?"

"I don't need a spell. I will know who it is when I get close enough. And he will know who I am as well."

"That seems stupid and foolish. We can find out with no risk."

"No, Hialmar," she said. "I cannot give you a spell to find the Dark Avatar. I cannot pray for insight from the Light One because I will not receive it. I was Chosen to fight this battle, and I will do so. You Hunters have given me everything I need to fight this battle, and hopefully to win it. This is no longer a battle you should fight. You've taken enough risks for me. Now I must do what I was Chosen to do: defeat the Darkness."

"What if you fail?"

"I don't think I will."

"But what if you do?" Hialmar insisted.

"That depends on what you want to do. You will know who the Dark Avatar is after I fight him. Should he win, the world will fall into Darkness. What that will practically mean, I don't know. Right now it appears his ambitions are confined to Renfrew. You have already done so much for me I'm not going to tell you what do after the battle is resolved, one way or another. I will leave it to you to decide what is the right course of action. I feel I can ask no more of you except that you let me fight this battle alone as I was meant to."

"So what will you do if you win?"

"I'm going to go where I feel I can do the most good. I'm going to stay in the Charred Lands and try to repair the damage from the Mage Wars."

"That's a lost cause," Hialmar said. "You should stay here and help us protect the demians."

"You do a fine job of that yourselves. But if anyone can heal the Charred Lands, it would be someone wielding the power of a god." They started to protest but she silenced them. "No objections. I must do this. I appreciate your willingness to train and help me more than I can say. But I can't live in two places. I have to choose, and I choose the Charred Lands."

"When are you going to fight the Dark Avatar?"

She was silent for several moments. "Tomorrow morning."

"Why not wait until the solstice?"

"Because he'll only be stronger."

"So will you," Hialmar pointed out.

"I know. But the less powerful he is, the less damage he can do to innocent people. I hope, anyway. I will go to Renfrew tomorrow morning."

"Fine, but we'll make sure you're prepared for whatever happens."

They discussed plans and alternative plans until Eliora's head was spinning and she finally called for a lunch break an hour past noon.

Aidan was loitering outside the cottage and caught up her as she walked to the dining hall.

"So, that seems intense," he said.

"I'm going to fight the ShadowWalker tomorrow."

He stopped in his tracks. "What? So soon?"

"It's nearly the solstice. The Hunters have narrowed his identity down to a dozen people. I'll go find him tomorrow."

He trotted to catch up with her. "So that's why you've been in there so long. You're making plans to deal with every circumstance."

"So it seems," she said tiredly. The constant second-guessing was not making her feel better about her task.

"Well, better to get it over with, I suppose. Then everyone can come back. That'll be nice. I've missed those guys."

She smiled sadly. "I have to."

"You aren't staying, are you?"

She stopped walking. "No, I'm not. If I survive..."

"You will."

"When I win," she corrected, "I'll bring everyone back, but I can't stay here."

"Are you going home?"

"No."

"Then you are staying with Davin," he said, sounding sulky.

"I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings."

He shrugged. "Well, I did my best to win you over. How he managed to do it when he hasn't even been here for three months is baffling, but he did. So I guess he's the better man."

"It's not that, Aidan. You're a good man too. But I'm not really part of this place. I know, you taught me to fight and I'm your friend, but I don't know that I've really been accepted. I don't think the Council will be too upset to go back to the lives they had a year ago."

"Yeah, that's probably true. Men like Hialmar don't like change. You scared them all into it, but it doesn't mean they don't like it. Still, you don't have to give up on us younger guys," he said with a smile.

"I can't be torn in two. I have to go where my heart lies."

"Yeah, alright. You have to do what you have to do, I guess," he said, but didn't look happy. "But did it have to be the Charred Lands and that char-kin?"

She sort of shook her head sadly. "Hialmar and the Council expressed the same sort of feeling. Don't be like them, Aidan. Don't dismiss a whole group of people as a lost cause just because you don't really know or understand their ways."

He looked ashamed of himself. "You're right," he mumbled. "I'm just feeling a little bitter."

"That's alright, as long as it passes."

"Eliora, are you ready for this?" he asked, suddenly very sober. "You could die. You will have to kill someone."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she said, feeling her stomach lurch uncomfortably. "I knew it would come down to confrontation a long time ago."

"Yeah, but it's one thing to be ready for confrontation when it's sometime in the future and another thing to be ready for it tomorrow."

An iridescent suddenly appeared.

Aidan yelped and jumped backwards.

It handed Eliora a note. "Where did you get this?" she asked, looking at an address.

"A Dark acolyte summoned us to carry a message to you."

"A Dark acolyte? Are you sure?"

"We could not mistake such a thing."

"What's the message?" she asked, confused.

"To come see him at this place as soon as possible."

"What did this acolyte look like?"

"Dark hair, dark eyes, pale of face like him," it said, pointing at Aidan.

He gulped.

"He had a strange silver frame with pieces of glass he held up to his eyes."

Eliora recognized the description the one Orlice had given of the young man standing next to the Dark Avatar during the equinox ceremony. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"Nay, mistress," it said, bowing. Then it vanished.

"Eliora, what was that?"

"An iridescent." She swallowed hard. "It looks like I don't get until tomorrow morning."

"What? You're going now? Why?"

"I have to." She smiled weakly. "I'll be back for dinner," she said, and disappeared into the Light Realm before he could protest.

She appeared in a front of a large metal gate set into a stone wall. She pushed the gate opened and walked into something that was wholly unfamiliar to her. It was a cemetery, but her people had no use for such a thing, so she was confused as she walked past row after row of shiny headstones. She figured out it was some sort of memorial for the dead but didn't understand why she would be meeting the friend of the Dark Avatar at all, or why he'd pick such a place. She wore the Armor underneath her clothes so as not to appear overly hostile but to be protected. It was a little tight. She found the young man sitting on a bench nervously cleaning his glasses.

"You sent for me," she said.

Blake jumped up from the bench. "You're really young," he said. "You can't be much older than I am."

"Why did you send for me? And why did you summon an iridescent? It's an odd thing for a Dark acolyte to even know how to do." She noted his face was pale, but could see part of that was fright.

"Well, I couldn't very send a darkling, could I?" he retorted nervously.

"Why did you send for me?"

"I know who the Dark Avatar is." He waited to see how she would take this news, but she didn't seem surprised or alarmed. "He's going to come here soon. Don't worry, it's not a trap. Not for you anyway," he said miserably.

"Please, tell me why you've brought me here to confront the Dark Avatar, and at great personal risk if he doesn't know to expect me."

"We've been friends for a long time. A long time. We've helped each other out. I've watched out for him, he's watched out for me. He stayed my friend when I joined the Order which I think you can guess most people wouldn't do."

She nodded slightly.

"So he became the Dark Avatar. Nothing against you, since I'm sure you're very nice and full of Light and all that, but I thought it was a good thing. He'd finally be able to get somewhere in the world. He's kind of low class, and it's real hard to get ahead when you're low class here. I helped him out. I tried to watch out for him. No one knows the dangers of dealing with Darkness like the Order. He was doing well enough, quite well, for a while. But somethin' happened a couple of months ago. Around the equinox. He started doing the things he said he'd never do. He stopped being sorry about it. The Darkness in his soul was getting stronger. A lot stronger. I told him it was bad for his soul. I tried to save him. He has a brother. This is important. His brother doesn't like me but knows about the Dark Avatar. Took it pretty well. But he was watching out and he talked to me about warning the Dark Avatar. So I tried. I told him to stop doing what he was doing. I tried to warn him. He did some sort of mind-control spell on the woman he wants to marry someday. She found out and got mad and he did magic to make her forget she found out. Then he did that spell on his own brother. His brother thought he might do something like that so he came to me to see if he had been enchanted. His own brother didn't trust him anymore. I knew then he was beyond my help. I can't save him. He won't listen. He doesn't care. He just wants what he wants. He says he'll stop doing these things, but he won't. If-if his best friend and own brother can't make him listen, can't save him, then I had only one other choice." He looked up at her with eyes that were preternaturally bright. "You believe me, right? I'm telling you the truth."

She could not doubt his pain. "I know," she said, feeling tears sting her own eyes.

"Can you save him? Can-can you get him to turn from this path of Darkness? His brother is bringing him here. We thought this would be the safest place. Everyone here is already dead. He'll be here soon. He'll know you. I can see you for what you are we're so close to the solstice. He will know you're here before he sees you. Can you save him?"

"I can try," she said finally. "But the Darkness must be very strong now. He will have to want to give it up."

"You have to try. You have to," Blake said. "This can't go on. He'll attract too much attention and someone will go after him. Or he'll just keep mind controlling people. The Darkness will grow within his soul and extinguish all Light."

"You understand if he refuses to turn back, he will likely fight me and try to kill me. You understand I'll have to defend myself and may have to kill him?"

Blake nodded his head and looked away. "We knew it was a possibility when we called you. No, it's probably a near certainty." He lowered his voice. "But we in the Order are taught that there is a fate worse than death. He will suffer that fate if he falls into Darkness. Death may be the only way to save him from that fate."

"I promise I will do my best to save your friend," she said. Then she felt a chill down her spine. "But you'd better get out of here if you don't want to get hurt. He's coming."

The acolyte turned as pale as a corpse, mumbled something, and vanished.

"Alain, you said you had something to talk to me about," Donnan said impatiently. "All we're doing is walking around the city. It wasn't easy to get off of work this early you know."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't easy for me to get out of bed at this hour either," he said. "So how are things with you and Aolani?"

"Going great," he said, feeling just a little bit guilty. "After the solstice, I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"You think she'll agree?"

"Sure I do."

"With or without the spell?"

"What spell?" he asked.

"You always were a bad liar, little brother," Alain said.

"It'll have faded away by the solstice," he said irritably. "You know, if you're going to lecture me again, I'd rather get back to work."

"No, I'm not goin' to lecture you. It doesn't seem to do any good. You used to care if you made me proud," he said dejectedly.

"I do. I still do," he replied defensively.

"You don't. You just want what you want and don't care about no one else," he said, but he didn't seem angry. He just seemed sad and disappointed.

"I do care," he said, his temper flaring. "I do care. I want you to be happy for me. I want you to be proud of the good life I've made for myself."

"You got a funny way of showin' it. Enchantin' some girl to get her to marry you don't make me proud. Enchantin' all her suitors and friends so they don't mess it up don't make me proud. Enchantin' the girl so she'd forget she found out about it don't make me proud. Enchantin' me so I forget the girl called you on enchantin' her sure as blazes don't make me proud."

Donnan stopped in his tracks but Alain kept walking. He ran a little to catch up with his brother. "How did you know that?"

"Oh, godsdamnit, that's what I'm talkin' about," he said, now sounding a little angry and a lot frustrated. "The first thing out of your mouth should have been an apology. Instead you just want to know how you got caught. How does that make me proud?"

He flushed scarlet. "Well, if you'd just be reasonable, I wouldn't have to do that. I told you the spell would be gone by the solstice."

"This isn't about what you think is reasonable. This is about what's right," Alain said.

Donnan was surprised to see his brother's eyes were bright with tears.

"You can't afford to do these kinds of things. It's turning you into some kind of monster."

"I'm just doing what I have to do to get by," he snapped.

"No, you're not. Maybe you were in the beginnin', just like your friend Blake thought he was doin' what he had to when he joined the Order. Now you're not just doin' what you have to, and you know it. You can't do this to people. They got a right to make their own choices. You take that away from them you force them to live a lie. And you live that same lie. Once you start that kind of lie, you can't stop lyin'. Look what happened with Aolani. She found out, so you made her forget so you can keep lyin' to her. I found out, so you made me forget. Your own brother. This is your good life? I can't be proud of a life made of lies and forcin' people do to what you want," he said in a voice that was much more pleading than it was angry. "Stop doin' this, Donnan. Please. It's going to destroy your soul."

He had never seen his brother this upset, not even when their parents had been killed. Now that he bothered to look, he could see Alain was even more pale than the early hour would explain and looked like he hadn't been sleeping well. He felt guilty and angry and ashamed. But he felt the stirring of Dark power within his soul. He forced a smile. "Alain, I understand you're concerned, but I've got it handled. I'm sorry I used a spell on you. And I promise I'll take off all the spells on everyone else right after the solstice. I won't need to use my power anymore after that. You'll see. It'll be fine. You can be proud of me again."

Instead of looking reassured, Alain looked like he was ready to completely break down.

"Don't you believe me?"

He shook his head and walked faster.

"Alain, wait up. Alain, what is it? Look, I promised. I keep my promises. Don't be like this. It'll be better. I promise." Suddenly he felt a hot flash and he stopped walking.

Alain heard him stop and turned around.

Donnan looked up at the stone wall surrounding the cemetery. "What's she doing here?" he muttered.

"Donnan?"

He turned to his brother. "I'm sorry, Alain. I have to take care of something," he said darkly. "We can talk about this later." Then he leaped over the wall and started to creep through the cemetery.

Near the center he saw the woman from Mulago sitting on a bench, staring at a weeping willow. He ducked behind a tall obelisk marker. Before he had time to consider some sort of plan, she spoke.

"I can see you. I can feel you. I'm here to talk to you."

He noticed her accent was much less pronounced. He walked out from behind the obelisk wearing the Armor of Ice. "About what?"

She noticed his accent was much less pronounced. She stood up. "About you, and about me, and about our futures." This was not the same young man she had met in Mulago. He looked more confident and harder, somehow.

This was not the same young woman he'd met in Mulago. She looked more confident and stronger. "I think only one of us has a future."

"It doesn't necessarily have to be that way."

He gave a short laugh. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I would prefer compromise to a fight to the death. Whether my hope of compromise is in vain depends on you."

"What kind of compromise were you thinking?"

"I think you should give up the Dark power."

He laughed again. "Some compromise. I lose everything."

"You keep your soul."

"Gods, not this lecture again," he said, rolling his eyes.

"It's so very Dark now, much Darker than when I met you Mulago. You are on the edge of falling into Darkness, ShadowWalker."

"I'm fine, LightBearer," he snapped.

"I can't help you if you don't understand this is a problem."

"You're going to help me?" he asked suspiciously.

"The Darkness is strong. It won't let go of your soul easily. But I think I can help, if you'd let me."

"Help me at the point of a sword, no doubt."

"I have no weapon drawn. Words and kindness are much more effective against the Darkness than a sword," she replied mildly, although she was having doubts. His soul was Darker than she expected.

"Words and kindness have never worked for me. The Dark power, however, has worked great."

"At the expense of your soul."

"Honestly, I don't need to hear this again," he snapped.

"Then I take it others are worried for you and have expressed the same concerns. Why do you not heed them?"

"Hey, that's none of your business. You don't know me. Don't try to pretend you care what happens to me."

"I don't know you, but it doesn't mean I don't care. I don't want to have to kill you. I want to help you. I want help free you from the Darkness. I want to save your soul. You're so young. I want you to have a full and happy life."

"And I will. Once you're out of the way."

"So you intend to fight me?"

"I intend to get rid of anyone that stands in my way," he said. "You know, you could give up your power and that would end this without a fight."

"My soul is in no danger of being destroyed."

"Yeah, some compromise."

"I wouldn't harm you, if that's what you're afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of you or anything."

"Well, I'm afraid you would harm me if I gave up my power," she said. "I know who you are and I imagine you don't want that news getting out."

"I could just make you forget."

She shook her head. "I just don't trust you, not with the state your soul is in."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust you either. You may claim to be all goodness and Light, but do you know what the Order of Light is really like? Do you know what they've done in the name of the Light One?"

"Yes. They do things for their own agenda, not to help anyone else."

He was surprised she'd admit that. "Well, there you go. Why should I trust you then?"

"I'm not the Order of Light. I am directly tied to the Light One. I want to help you."

"You want to save your own life."

"I can't deny that, but if I were solely focused on that, I would have already attacked you. I really do want to help you," she said sincerely. "But I can't help you unless you want to be helped. I can't free you from the Darkness until you want to give up the Dark power."

He thought about it, and thought about Alain and Blake and their pleas for him to give up the Darkness. "Well, if anyone could help me, it would be the LightBearer," he thought. But the power moved within his soul. "No, I don't need her help. She's only trying to save her own life. She doesn't give a damn about me. No one does. The only person I can really count on is myself. And if I give up this power, then what do I have? I'll have no magic to keep my job at the Salt Guild. I'll have no magic to protect myself when those spells wear off. I'll have no money and no way to keep Aolani's attention. All her suitors will come back and she'll either ditch me for one of them or move away entirely." He narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, LightBearer. You seem like a nice woman, but I'm not giving up this power for anything." His eyes turned black and the icy longsword appeared in his hand.

She took a step back.

Black clouds started to race across the sky. "If I thought I could just cast a spell on you I'd do that, but I don't think it would work. It's not personal. You do seem really nice and like you really want to help me. But this is business." He charged at her.

Her clothes vanished revealing the shining white Armor of Obsidian and the fiery longsword appeared in her hand. "It doesn't have to be like this," she said, dodging easily but not following up with her own attack.

"Yeah, you could surrender," he retorted, coming around with a strong blow.

She parried it. "Please reconsider."

"No."

Eliora continued to only defend herself and try to convince the ShadowWalker to give up his power.

Donnan was at first surprised she even knew how to fight, then he was surprised she was strong enough to take his attacks, and then he became annoyed when she wouldn't attack. "Fight me, damn it," he exclaimed. The sky was gray and heavy with rain.

"I don't want to fight you," she said, quite sincere. "I want to help you, but you have to let me."

"I don't need your help," he roared. A bolt of lightning ripped through the clouds followed by a crack of thunder that drowned out the LightBearer's pleas. "Just let me do what I need to do."

"You're going to hurt people."

"Not many, and no one that doesn't have it coming."

"What about your family? What about your friends?"

"They'll understand."

"You'll make them understand?" she asked.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," he replied. "Damn you, will you fight properly already?"

"What if it does? Will you use power to control people who disagree with you for the rest of your life? Even if you have to extend that control to your family and friends?" she replied, again neatly parrying his attack. "Is that just business too?"

"You shut up," he yelled, now furious. "What in blazes do you know? Who in Darkness are you to tell me what to do?"

"You have to see what you're thinking of doing is wrong."

Rain started to pour from the sky in heavy gray curtains.

"I don't care if it's wrong as long as I get what I want," he snapped, bringing the blade over his head at her.

She blocked it and held her blade against his.

"At the expense of others?" she asked, meeting his black eyes.

"They'd do the same to me."

"Even your family and friends?"

"I can deal with them."

"What if they decide they can't deal with you?"

For just a moment, there was some uncertainty in those black eyes, but then they turned cold. "I'll make sure they make the right decision," he said, straining to push her sword down with his.

"What happened to people making their own decisions?"

"They can, as long as they agree with me."

"So you won't give up the power?" she asked, feeling him push against her blade but standing her ground and searching those black eyes and the soul behind it.

"No. With this power, I can do anything I want. I could rule Renfrew. I could rule the world if I wanted. Without this power, I'm nothing, I'm not going back to being nothing."

She broke the hold and leaped backwards. "I'm sorry," she said with tears stinging her eyes.

"What? Why are you sorry?"

"Because I can't help you. You won't let go of the Darkness. There's too much anger and fear."

"And you're feeling sorry for me. That's real nice of you, LightBearer."

"I'm sorry for you, and for your family and friends. I'm sorry because now there's only one way I can save you from falling into Darkness."

He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, really? What's that?"

Eliora just shook her head, so he attacked her again, and this time she returned the attack. Over and over she parried or blocked and returned the blow, trying to finish the fight the only way that was left to her. Tears streamed down her face. The rain obscured everything and turned the ground into slick mud. Unseen in the downpour, headstones and grave markers near the fight cracked or shattered completely.

Donnan was surprised at this sudden change of tactics and quickly realized what she had meant. "Help me she says? Save me she says? I knew I was right not to trust her," he thought angrily.

Lightning tore the sky and fire scorched the ground. The grass curled up, blackened and burnt. The cascading rain turned to hail and sizzled on the hot headstones.

Both were tired but neither could stop. They found out that the Armor was not impervious to the magical blades and both were bleeding in a few places. Furious and desperate, Donnan finally made a mistake. Eliora's sword slid in neatly between his ribcage on the left side.

He stumbled to his knees and dropped his longsword. It vanished. Rain mixed with blood and ran onto the ground in a red river.

Eliora lowered her sword but did not approach him. She called to an iridescent. "Tell his brother and Dark acolyte friend to come quickly," she ordered it. It vanished. "I'm sorry," she said, her tears mixing with rain. "I couldn't save your life. I tried. I wanted to."

He just stared at the blood on his hands. "I can't have lost. I trained so hard. I worked so hard." He felt curiously cold. Thunder rolled. "I didn't really do anythin' wrong. I just wanted a chance at a good life. I just wanted the girl of my dreams. Is that so wrong?" he yelled at her.

Her sword disappeared. "Of course not, but you can't force people to do that. I wanted to help you. I could have helped you."

"Well help me now," he demanded.

"I can't. I can't. You won't give up the Darkness."

He tried to stand but fell again. He cursed himself for not learning any healing magic.

Two people ran past Eliora and knelt down at Donnan's side.

"Blake. Alain. What are you two doin' here?" he asked, astounded. "How'd you get here so fast?"

She cast a shield spell on both of them. These were the people closest to him, but she didn't trust him with that much Darkness in his soul.

"You didn't have to do that," he snapped. "I won't hurt them."

"She sent an iridescent to find your family and friends," Blake said quickly.

"Blake, we tell him the truth," Alain said. Both of them were crying.

He sighed. "We were waiting outside the cemetery gate."

"Both of you? I know Alain was, but why were you there?" Realization dawned. "You-you set me up." He coughed miserably. "How could you? You're my brother! You're my best friend! How could you set me up like this?"

"It was the only way," Blake said. "You wouldn't listen. I tried to warn you. Alain tried to warn you. The Darkness was too strong. Only the LightBearer could save you."

"Well, she did a great job, didn't she?" he retorted. "You betrayed me!" He lashed out with a lightning bolt, which smashed into the shield spells and knocked them both to the side, but they were alive.

Eliora winced with pain as the bolt hit her shields.

"Oh, gods, Alain, Blake," he called, again trying and failing to stand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

They didn't hesitate to return to his side.

"The Darkness has got you, little brother," Alain said sadly.

"Can't you do something?" Donnan asked. "Blake, you can use that spell again. That Rite spell you used to save my life before, in the alley."

Alain looked surprised, but didn't press for an explanation.

"I can't, Donnan. I don't know that spell right now. The Dark One gave it to me to save your life. Once I had done it, it went away."

"Well maybe you could pray," he snapped.

"I think it's too late," Blake said.

He started to feel very lightheaded and was glad he was already on his knees. "No, Alain, Blake, I don't want to die," he said, now feeling more scared than angry. "I don't want to die."

Alain helped prop him up on his broad shoulder. Blake took one of his hands.

He looked up at Eliora with pale blue eyes that were full of fear.

"I can't save your life," she said miserably. "The Darkness is too strong. If you live it will destroy your soul."

"At least I'd be alive," he retorted. "Alain, please."

"I'm sorry. All I can do is be here now."

"Blake?"

"I did the best I could to save you, Donnan, I did. But I couldn't."

Eliora felt wretched for just watching instead of helping, and felt as though she was intruding on something very personal. She started to sing just to calm her nerves.

His vision was starting to get blurry. He could see Alain's darker blue eyes and Blake's dark eyes were filled with tears. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice sounding strangely distant. "I messed everything up, didn't I?"

"No, you did what you thought you had to," Alain said.

"No, I didn't. I started doing what I wanted. I did stop caring about other people. I just wanted a better life so badly I thought anythin' I did was worth it. I was wrong. You were right and you tried to warn me and I didn't listen." He drew a ragged breath and felt Blake's hand tighten around his own.

"I'm sorry, little brother. I'm sorry," Alain said. "I tried to keep an eye on you. I tried and I failed."

"I tried to watch out for you too. You were my only real friend after I joined the Order," Blake said. "I tried to watch out for the state of your soul and I failed. You were my-my best friend. I'm sorry."

His vision was failing now and his body was feeling numb. It took a lot of energy to try to speak. "You did your best, both of you. Tell Aolani I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt her. Please, I'm scared."

"We're here for you, Donnan," Alain said, holding his brother. "We're right here."

"I can't see very well," he mumbled.

"Rest now, Donnan. Your soul will be at peace," Blake replied, his voice cracking with sorrow.

"I know. I know why you did it. What's that music?"

They looked at each other, puzzled, then looked at Eliora.

She was startled that he could even hear her over the wind and rain given how close he was to dying and given the other two couldn't seem to hear her. "It's a song. It's from my land. It's a song of lament for the dying when we can't help them. It's-it's supposed to ease their passage and put their mind and soul at rest."

He managed to focus on her. She was glowing with a faint white light that made her easy to see through the rain even in his condition. "You're really sorry. I can hear the sorrow in your song. You really did want to save me."

She nodded. "I really did. I really do."

"Keep singing. It's pretty. It makes me feel warm. Alain, Blake, don't you two go anywhere."

"I won't leave you, little brother."

"I'll be right here."

"Both of you always were here for me, and I never thanked you for that. Thank you." Donnan closed his eyes.

Eliora resumed the song, louder now and with more conviction. The rhythm was but slow but strong and the tone full of sadness but also of peace.

"I care for both of you. Don't be too sad," he murmured. "I understand why you did this. It was the only way to save me."

She continued to sing as the rain poured down. Blood and tears mixed with the drops and flowed across the burnt grass. The rhythm of the song slowed down, as though in time to the fading heartbeat of the dying man. By the time the last note was carried away in the wind, the Armor of Ice was gone and Donnan was dead. Eliora felt the power of the wind and waves rush through her body, but she barely noticed. She started really crying now, great heaving sobs of sorrow.

"You never told me you saved his life. He never told me," Alain said.

"Yeah. He didn't want to upset you," Blake responded in a dull voice. "There were some drunk guards. He was alone. They were looking for trouble. I found him before they finished him off. He would have died by morning. I prayed to the Dark One and It put a spell in my mind, a blood ritual." Blake showed Alain the matching scars. "Except for this mark, everything was healed."

"You shared your blood for him?"

The acolyte nodded.

Alain looked sort of surprised. "Blake, I had no idea you cared that much."

He sort of shrugged. "Neither did he even after I did that."

Alain left Blake holding the body and walked up to Eliora. "You did what you had to do," the large man said to her, his dark blue eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"I-I killed your brother. I'm so sorry."

"I know you are. You saved his soul and gave him some peace at the end. There was nothin' more you could do." He looked over at the body and at Blake, who hadn't moved. "There was nothin' more any of us could do."

"Is there-is there anything I can do for you? For either of you?" she asked, trying to get control of herself.

"I can't afford a funeral on my salary. Blake's got no money as an acolyte."

"Ex-acolyte," he said suddenly.

"Blake, are you sure?"

He reached under his shirt and pulled out his holy symbol. "The Dark One saved his life only to nearly destroy his soul. I understand the place of the Order of Darkness, and my place is no longer as part of that Order." He threw the black necklace into the cemetery as far as it would go. It was quickly lost in the rain. "It's only fitting it stays here with the dead," he said bitterly.

"I don't know if he'd want to rest here anyway. Not after what happened," Alain said.

"My-my people burn the bodies of the dead," she said. "And scatter their ashes to the winds in a place they felt at home. It's symbolic of their souls finally being free of the mortal world. It-it helps the family let go."

"What do you do to remember the deceased?" Alain asked. "If you don't have a grave marker for the body?"

"There are bodies buried here?" she asked. "Oh. Their story is made into a song by the lyric-smiths and incorporated into the oral history of the family. At least in the old days. In modern times, their story and song are written into the great family book. We remember them on days of renewal and darkness, like the winter solstice."

While they considered this, a small gray cat walked up to Blake and started to nuzzle him.

"Donnan's cat," he said, and checked to see if it was still magical. One look in its eyes and he knew it was just an ordinary cat now.

"I think it likes you," Alain said, suddenly worried for Blake. He knew the ex-acolyte was taking Donnan's death even harder than he was. "You should take care of it."

"I don't know anything about animals," he said irritably, trying to push it away, but it just came back.

"Blake, someone has to take care of it."

"Fine. I think we should burn the body," he said. "It seems fitting."

"Alright. And I think you should write his story," Alain said.

"Why me? Why not you?"

"Because I think you'd do a better job. I don't read and I don't write. I think with my gut and my sword." He looked at Eliora. "There was a place we used to go when we were small, before we lived in Renfrew. It was a hill so high on clear days we could almost see the ocean. Well, at least that's what we thought. I think that's where his ashes should go."

"I can take you there now, if you like," she said.

He nodded and picked up the body.

Blake picked up the cat.

She opened a portal into the Light Realm. "You must stay together. You won't be able to see the path, but we will get there if you follow me."

They nodded and followed her.

They walked out of the portal onto a sunny, hilly area. It was getting late in the day now and the air was heavy with the scent of late spring flowers and grass.

Alain walked up one of the hills and breathed deeply. "This is the place. We'd come here and play together and talk about our future. He always had big plans for the future," he said, tears starting to sting his eyes. He laid the body down. "Do you need some wood or somethin'?"

"No."

"Don't damage the grass," he said.

"That's tricky, but I can do it." She concentrated, and the body burst into flame. Then she started to sing the Litany to the Innocent Dead.

Alain put a hand on Blake's shoulder in part for support and in part to restrain him.

By the time she finished the song, all that was left was a pile of fine ash. The sky was turning violet and pink as the sun set.

Alain picked some of it up and let it catch on the wind. "Goodbye, little brother."

Blake did the same. "May your soul know peace."

Eliora looked at both of them, who nodded, and she took a handful of ash. "May the Light guide you to your final rest," she said in her language, and let the ash run through her fingers. It reminded her of something else. Then she brought in the wind to scatter the rest of the ash over the gently waving grasslands. When it was gone she turned to them. "Now the burden of sorrow rests on you. I will do whatever I can to help ease that burden. I can take you anywhere you want to go. Or you can come with me to the Charred Lands. I can't offer much there except a fresh start."

"Take us back to Renfrew," Alain said. "Let us get things sorted."

"I'll summon another iridescent for you when we've made a decision," Blake said.

She nodded. "I'll do that. By the way, my name is Eliora."

"Thank you, Eliora," Alain said.

She opened up a portal and took them back to Renfrew, where it was still raining. "Iridescent," she called.

One appeared next to her. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Go tell Jomei I have defeated the ShadowWalker and will return to Tallis Marrom in the morning."

It bowed and vanished.

She walked into the Light Realm and reappeared outside of the Davin's wagon. He was sitting on the steps, staring northeast, but jumped up immediately when he saw her. Without a single word, he just took her in his arms and let her cry. She cried until she was utterly exhausted and he gently herded her into bed.

After a restless and disturbed sleep, she got out of bed and crept out of the wagon, trying not to wake Davin, who still slept on the couch. The sky was still mostly dark although it was turning pink on the eastern horizon. She sat on the steps, moodily watching the sun rise and letting the strange, black dirt run through her fingers over and over again. The smell of tea and breakfast came wafting out of the wagon, and yet Davin still let her alone.

Finally he came out with a mug of tea and handed it to her.

She drank it without tasting it. "I killed him."

"I know," he said, sitting down.

"His brother and his best friend watched him die. I watched him die. Maybe I could have saved his life, but I couldn't save his soul, so I let him die."

"Did you try to make it easy for him?"

She nodded. "I sang for him. He heard me over the rain and I sang for him. I hope you're not mad at me for that."

"Eliora, I would never be angry at you for that. If anyone deserved to hear your songs, it would be that poor soul."

"His brother and best friend held him as he died. They agreed to burn the body in the fashion of my people. I took them to a place of peace and I burned the body. I took the ash in my hand and scattered it to the winds, just like this," she said, holding up a handful of dirt and blowing on it. "Of course there's no wind here." The dirt trickled through her fingers. "But this feels very much the same, just grittier." She continued let dirt pour through her fingers. "There's no life in this. It's like ash and sand," she said. "Ash and sand," she repeated, realization slowly dawning. "My gods."

"What?" he asked.

"What happens when you try to farm this land?"

"We can't get anything to grow. We've tried to till the soil. That means to turn it over and expose the new soil underneath. It doesn't help."

She started digging at the ground, first with her hands, then with magic. "But how deep did you go? A hand deep? Two hands?"

"About a hand is typical, maybe a little deeper."

"It's as deep as my elbow," she said. "Nothing but ash. Some fine, some gritty, but it's just ash."

"How do you know it's just ash?"

"The ground is my element; I know ash for what it is."

"But how it possible to have so much ash here? There's nothing to generate it."

"I'm not sure. Let me see," she said and cast a magic detection spell. Without the clutter of the wagons and their glyphs and the mages themselves, she could detect something strange about the land itself.

"What do you see?" he asked, noticing that her eyes turned white.

"It's not magic," she said, holding a scoop of the ash in her hands. "Or at least, it's not magic anymore. It's a remnant of magic that's twisted, somehow. There was too much magic used in too short a period of time. The remnant isn't just arcane. There's something divine, or there was. That's what Hanae meant when she said there was no life but there was shadow." The color drained from her face. "Remember the story you told me before you left? The story of why your people stay here? The story of the last battle?"

He nodded.

"What if it's not just a story? What if it's not just some exaggerated tale to teach the children responsibility for the crimes of their ancestors?"

"What are you thinking?"

"What if it's literally true? These are the ashes of the dead. Everything that was here, every mage, every cleric, every fighter, plant, animal, every weapon, everything living or dead, perhaps even the ground itself, was destroyed by that final spell. This is all that remains. The land is literally charred."

He turned pale. "But that's impossible."

"The magic of that battle and within the bodies of the mages and clerics was somehow destroyed by the spell but something, some remnant was left behind. The magic is dead. The land is dead. The dead magic bound in these ashes keep the land from healing. It's like a curse. All that destruction, all that hate, all the Darkness, is bound into these ashes of the dead. That why you see ghosts and visions on the Day of the Dead. Their souls have never been freed. They're still here, fighting the last fight, bound in their own despair and fear. That's why the weather is so unnatural. Bitter winds and heavy snows in the winter, but still, dry air in the summer. When does it ever rain?"

"A few times in autumn or spring, before it turns to snow or dries up completely."

"There's not enough wind. There's nothing to bring in the rain or the seeds for anything to take root and try to grow," she said.

"But we've never detected any magic in the ground. We've tried dispells over the centuries just in case but with no effect."

"That's because this remnant is not just arcane, nor is it divine. It's not even like normal magic it's so twisted and dead. It's an undead remnant, a shadow of magic. You'd never think to look for it and I don't know if you could even see it. Don't you believe me?"

He nodded. "I believe you can see things we cannot. You wield the power of the elements, which no mage or cleric can do."

She stared out at the dark, still plains and let the ash fall from her fingers. "I know how to heal this land, but it will take a long time and we may not live to benefit from it."

He took her hands. "Eliora, spending my life with you is enough. If my children are freed from this burden, I will die a happy man."

She smiled.

"What will you do to help the land?"

"Scatter the ashes. Till the ground deep enough to renew the soil. Bring back the winds and the rains and seeds to take root. And on the next Day of the Dead, I will help the dead to their final resting place. I will cleanse the land of the shadow and release it from the curse."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "You are the LightBearer. I will do what I can to help you."

"Just be here," she said. "And maybe cook dinner."

He laughed. "You should probably be getting to Tallis Marrom. I think you have some people to return to the forest and some farewells."

She nodded and her expression turned sad.

"Those two, the brother and friend of the ShadowWalker, if they need you, they know where to find you, right?"

"Yes. I told them they could come here if they had no other place to go."

He looked surprised, and then smiled. "You would do something like that."

"Oh, you don't mind, do you?"

"My people don't like outsiders, but they can join us. Exiles in a land of exiles."

"I don't know if they will."

"It is their choice to make. It may take a lot of time. Grief and despair make it very difficult to see the possibilities of the future."

"You're right."

"Go on now. You're already running late."

She kissed him again and vanished into the Light Realm.

The Council was awaiting her return. They did not celebrate, although they let her know they were glad she had won. They recognized the occasion was too solemn for a celebration. The younger men, however, were not so subdued and she knew that there would be a party by nightfall that she had no intention of attending. She thanked them for helping her and spent much of the day returning the Hunters to Tallis Marrom. When that chore was done, she slipped back to the stables, where she had left Orlice in case anyone needed a mount.

One look at the horse told her it was no longer a magical creature. It was now just an ordinary animal about three years old. She felt a little disappointed. "I suppose you were only meant to help me win," she thought. "But I'll take you with me. You can pull the wagon."

"You're welcome to stay, you know," came Aidan's voice.

"I know."

"I'd like it if you would stay," he said quietly.

She turned to face him. "I've made my choice."

"You can change your mind."

"I do like you, Aidan," she said gently.

"But not enough to stay," he replied, sounding a bit sullen.

"You didn't tell me you liked me that much."

He shrugged. "I was stupid. I didn't know how much I liked you until I realized you were going to leave and not come back."

"I can understand that feeling," she said, thinking of Zeki. "But I know where my heart lies." She started to lead Orlice out of the stable and towards Jomei's cottage.

"The guys are having a party tonight to celebrate your victory. Aren't you even going to stay?"

"I can't celebrate the ending of another life."

He paused before replying. "We weren't thinking of it like that."

"I know."

"Is that why you chose Davin? Because he would think of it like that?" he asked, following her.

"It's part of it."

"Are you even going to visit?"

"I don't know. I have a lot to do."

"It's going to be pretty boring now with no great enemy to fight."

"And that would be another part of why I didn't chose to stay here," she thought. "You know, you could always invite more women to come here. I learned to fight. There's no reason other women couldn't be taught to fight. I'm sure there are plenty would like to join in your cause of protecting the demians."

"I don't know about that."

"You never know until you ask."

"Maybe we have been thinking too much like Hialmar. Why only let men be warriors? You did pretty well, after all."

"Thanks," she replied, mentally adding, "but I'm no warrior." They were standing in front of Jomei's cottage.

"I guess this is good-bye. I'm going to meet the guys in the dining hall."

She gave him a hug. "Thank you for helping train me and for being my friend."

He blushed a little, and then kissed her.

"What was that for?" she asked, surprised.

"So you know what's waiting here for you if you ever change your mind," he said with a wink. "Take care of yourself, Eliora." He turned and trotted off toward the dining hall.

"Good-bye, Aidan," she called.

"Well, I suppose he made his feelings clear," Jomei said, opening the door.

She flushed. "I'm still not staying."

"It's alright, Eliora. I understand. Aidan will be fine, especially if he follows your advice and convinces the Council to bring in some young women."

She sighed, a little hurt. "I suppose it always was just a matter of proximity."

"You can't develop a relationship with someone if you aren't near them. But good ones endure distance and time apart. But, this is not why you're here." He looked at the horse. "You've come to say good-bye."

"I don't intend to come back. I do like him, but it wouldn't be fair to anyone involved. I learned that lesson," she said, thinking sadly of Zeki and Basir.

"And the community here has never really accepted you."

She nodded.

"I understand. I've lived here for several years now and they still don't completely accept me or my calling."

"Then why do you stay?"

"Because it is my calling to serve them as best I can. They do glorify battle or they wouldn't be here and I find that a dangerous attitude to hold. As you said, to become callous to taking life is to let Darkness in. Although perhaps having met you and seeing the power of the Light One they will pay more attention to my advice. Before you go, it's my duty to make sure you'll be alright. You're going to the Charred Lands to undo the damage, correct?"

She nodded.

"And you'll stay with Davin?"

She blushed a little and nodded again.

"Given the miracle you worked on that young man's soul, repairing the Charred Lands should be an easy task in comparison."

"That only took a bit of kindness and patience."

"Believe me, in my many years of service, kindness and patience are far more difficult to provide than spells or skills," Jomei said. "And how are you doing? I know you had to kill the ShadowWalker."

"It was worse than I imagined. The best I could do was ease his pain."

"No one could ask for more than your best. You understand grief. In time, this too shall pass."

"I appreciate your kindness, Jomei. You of all the Council accepted me. I apologize if I ever treated you badly because of how my Order treated me."

"Forgiven and forgotten. I only wish for you now to have a full and happy life, no matter what you choose to do with it. May the Light One bless you always."

"May you always walk in sunlight without fear of shadows," she said in her native language. "Good-bye, Jomei, and thank you."

"Good-bye, Eliora, and good luck. My prayers are with you and Davin."

She smiled then opened a portal into the Light Realm so Orlice could follow.

Eliora and Davin traveled to the eastern-most border of the Charred Lands to wait until the solstice to start healing the land.

"Why start there?" he had asked.

"Because the sun rises in the east. This is the dawning of a new day for this land. It's very symbolic."

He smiled and nodded.

She filled up her time with writing down the history of her land and started the story of the ShadowWalker because she felt someone should.

"Of course, it would help if I had firsthand accounts," she said to Davin one evening.

"They must find their own way. All you can do is pray for them."

"I know."

The morning of the solstice dawned bright and hot. The demarcation of the Charred Lands was startlingly clear. Tall, healthy grass simply stopped growing.

"Even here, with some seeds and wind and rain, nothing can take root," she thought, looking at the ashes.

She left Davin, the wagon, and Orlice parked on the side with the grass.

He watched her anxiously.

She walked to the border and concentrated. Her eyes turned white and the ground started to rumble and shake. The wind started to blow from the east through the grasses. Ash and dirt started to fly into the air as though giant, invisible blades were cutting into it the ground. She kept pouring magic into tilling the ground as far and wide as she could see until the east wind brought in rain clouds and the first cool drops splashed on her face. She relaxed and felt herself float gently to the ground. She slowly opened her eyes, which she wasn't even aware she had closed.

The gray veil of clouds was moving toward the west. There were a few flashes of lighting, but mostly the clouds produced gentle showers. The wind smelled of rain and the perfume of grain and flowers.

Davin walked up behind her.

"That was hard." She gratefully leaned into him.

"It's a good start."

"I think I overdid it a bit," she murmured, feeling very lightheaded.

He picked her up. "Then rest."

"I will," she said, and passed out.

She came to some hours later.

Davin handed her a cup of tea. "There is something here to see you."

She turned to see an iridescent standing patiently next to the bed. "Yes?" she asked.

It bowed. "We were summoned by one called Blake to deliver a message to you. He thanks you for your kind offer, but wishes to stay in Renfrew. He has found a new calling in his life. He has joined the Order of Light and is under the tutelage of one called Eldoris. He says that Alain has remained in the guard and will likely advance due to his keen insight and honest nature. He says that he has taken up the task of writing the story of the Dark Avatar. He says that one day, when the grief is lessened, perhaps he and Alain would like to meet with you again and share that story, and learn your story."

"Is this true? Is he really an acolyte of the Light now?"

"It is difficult for us to tell truth from falsehood, but he wore the correct garments and was accompanied by an elder female cleric."

"Describe her."

It did so.

"That sounds like Eldoris. I suppose he couldn't get her to lie. And I hope he told the truth about Alain. Did he request a return message?"

"Nay, Mistress."

"Thank you. You may go."

It bowed again and disappeared.

"Good news?" Davin asked.

"I think they'll be alright."

"And so will you."

"In time," she agreed. She yawned and stood up. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just a few hours. Come and see. This is something I've never seen before. I'm not even sure my language has a word for it." He helped her out of the wagon.

The storm had slowly moved west, leaving them in bright sunshine.

"Look at that," he said, pointing to an arched band of colors glowing against the gray curtain of rain. "I've never seen that before."

"It's called a rainbow," she said with a smile. "It's a sign of hope and good fortune."

"My people will see that and perhaps they will also take it as a good sign. They will at least take it as a sign of change, hopefully for the better."

"I hope so. I want to do some good with this power."

He smiled and kissed her. "You will. You already have."

She blushed.

"I love you, Eliora."

She blushed even more deeply, realizing she returned his feelings. "I love you too, Davin."

He kissed her again and they held it for a long time. "Come on. Let's get some lunch."

She smiled. "I'm glad I have you around. I forgot I was hungry."

He laughed. "You are amazing."

They looked at the rainbow for a few more moments, and then went inside.

###

Thank you for reading my book! If you like it, please visit my personal book page (http://smashwords.com/profile/view/SJDrew) for my bio, links, and updates on upcoming ebooks. - S. J. Drew
