

The Vessel

Book 1 of the Machinations Series

Michael Alexander

© 2012 Michael Alexander

Smashwords Edition

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This novel is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. All references to actual events and places, or descriptions of persons living or dead are used fictitiously.

Cover Art by Amanda L. Matthews at AMDesign Studios

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author
Chapter One

"By your grace Goddess,

Where trespassers may tread / Divert me from their path.

When evil may approach / Shield me from their blows.

Where sin threatens to lure me in / Grant me strength.

By your grace oh Goddess / I am saved."

\- Prayer of Protection

Her mother's murder was a shock to everyone. Her brother killed their mother with his own hands. Nothing had ever felt the same since.

Xela gently glided her thumb over the ring on her left index finger, the smooth ruby stone giving her a brief moment of calm. This small remnant was all that she had left of her mother. _Mother, I wish you could be here with me. You would know exactly what to say._ Her mother was proud that Xela chose to marry for love, not status. The man she was promised to on the other side of Sol, on the other side of the world, would have to find another bride.

Xela fidgeted with her dress, hoping to preoccupy her mind. Her dress had been made especially for her, made from the finest of silks the village had to offer. The dress showed her figure, tightly cinched at the waist and bosom, with a flowing skirt of many layers. Around her neck lay an amulet, an iron replica of the goddess Airato's insignia. Her fiancé Raynor had given it to her as a wedding present. Everything seemed perfect.

_So why am I so nervous?_ Xela thought to herself. _How can a wedding make me so anxious when slavers don't make me flinch?_ Xela urged to string her bow, if only to force herself back into her comfort zone. She tugged again on her gown, feeling naked and exposed despite being suffocated with expensive fabric.

It was not every day the High Priest's daughter was to wed. Thus, the entire village of Laedon was invited to the celebration. With the wooden pews crammed to capacity, many were left to stand against the gray stone walls, tightly wedged shoulder to shoulder. The excited whispers of the congregation ricocheted off of the high domed ceiling, filling the room with an unceasing buzz. Even the bridesmaids couldn't contain their excitement. Though it was a cool spring day, Xela felt like she was on fire, the room and the chatter within it like a boiling teakettle whistling its high-pitched song.

"What's wrong Xela?" Gabryelle asked, gently stroking the bride's arm.

"I'm no good at this Gabryelle, you know that. When was the last time you saw me in a dress?"

Gabryelle grinned wryly. "Never actually. As a matter of fact, I've never seen you without your bow either."

"Can you keep a secret? Promise you won't say anything." Gabryelle leaned in closer. "I stashed it behind the altar." Gabryelle gasped, quickly covering her mouth. Xela frowned. "Don't look at me like that. Just knowing it's there makes me feel a little less anxious."

"Expecting a raiding party?" Gabryelle taunted. Xela crossed her arms. She didn't expect Gabryelle to understand. A warrior without a weapon was a like a blacksmith without his hammer.

"You're not having second thoughts are you? You love Raynor."

"I do, I do. But I can't shake this feeling. Ever since Mother died, this sense of dread has been hanging over me, like I'm being watched. And the dreams..."

Grabbing her shoulders forcefully, Gabryelle pulled Xela in closer, leaving an inch of space between the tips of their noses. "Xela, having nerves before the ceremony is normal. Relax. Nothing bad is going to happen."

The bells chimed in a low tone, silencing the congregation and cuing the wedding party to scramble into positions. "Breathe," Gabryelle assured. "This is your day." With a smile, she stepped into line. Despite the pep talk, Xela didn't feel any better.

A harp played its sweeping melody, cuing the procession to begin. According to tradition, all the bridesmaids carried orbs of pure light in the palms of their hands. Upon reaching the altar, the bridesmaids carefully placed the orbs of light in a circle on the purple carpet and scurried to their positions. Xela's father, the High Priest, followed the bridesmaids in the processional. His robes were so pure white he seemed to be shining. His age showed as he walked down the aisle, a slight limp in his left leg, forced to use the ceremonial staff as a cane.

At last it came Xela's turn to walk. The congregation rose from their seats as soon as she entered the chamber, their faces filled with joy and adoration. She blushed as she felt every eye in the room bear down on her. Feeling lightheaded, she took a deep breath and made the first step toward the altar, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet draping the floor.

Xela looked up at the bronze sculpture of the goddess Airato, arms raised, casting her grace on all who entered and silently, she thanked Airato for blessing her with everything she had. She marveled at all of the embellishments added for the ceremony. Tapestries of purple hung from the ceiling, carpets of gold lined the floors, lit candles glowed from the walls, and powder blue flowers bloomed from every corner. Light sprinkled in from the side windows as the clouds outside dispersed. Her father stood smiling at her, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

And she gazed upon Raynor, standing proud upon the altar. She barely recognized him in the blue matrimonial robes, his long auburn hair draping from his crown. Examining his hazel eyes, he looked as uncomfortable in his attire as she felt in hers, fidgeting with his elaborate dressings with subtle movements of his hands. Raynor was a mill worker, a man accustomed to wearing trousers and tunics, not heavy robes decorated with stones. Xela stepped up to the altar beside him, taking in another deep breath. She took his rough hands and smiled, hoping to conceal her nervousness.

"Are you ok?" he mouthed to her. Nodding, she gave his hands a squeeze to reassure him.

It was time for the protection ring. The orbs of light surrounding them glowed even brighter, the energy from each orb branching out, extending like longing arms. The arcs of pure energy intertwined with each other, linking the orbs as one light source. The result formed a sphere of light around the couple, much like a woven basket, a netting. Xela felt the warmth of the light around her, grazing her skin.

Despite holding Raynor's hands, feeling the sphere's protection, and knowing her bow was within reach, Xela couldn't overcome the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

"Brothers and sisters," Xela's father began, "we gather on this holy day to officially bind together Xela and Raynor under Airato's holy gaze. Let us bow our heads and pray." As Xela's father lifted his arms, palms open, the congregation lowered their heads. Xela prayed earnestly to Airato, praying her life with Raynor would be full of blessings, praying that she would overcome any obstacles in her path, and praying her children would be blessed with Airato's light.

"Goddess, may your blessing descend on these young lovers and procure a bright future full of happiness." He lowered his hands. "Now, if anyone here objects to this union, step forward and speak now or take it to the grave."

The wooden doors at the back of the temple burst open, accompanied by a gust of wind. The act sent everyone's attention away from the couple to the figure that stood tall at the entrance, head hoisted while he stared down the aisle directly at Xela and Raynor. His eyes were the darkest brown, his hair jet black, and skin pale white. His crooked grin sent a chill up Xela's spine and spread a fire through her heart. Hatred burned fiercely within her as she stared into his eyes.

"Xela, my sister, how could you be so hurtful as to not invite me to your wedding?" he sneered. "When I heard you were getting married, I anxiously awaited the courier that would hand-deliver the invitation. But no one came. I thought we were closer than that." He smiled, revealing a set of teeth that resembled fangs. He came with darker intentions than he was leading on. The congregation leaned away from him, nervous by his very presence. The entire village knew of his dark deeds.

"How dare you interrupt my wedding," Xela said. She took one step forward before Raynor gently placed his hand on her arm, pulling her back to his side. She shook with anger and even Raynor's angelic touch wouldn't calm her.

"Please leave Fael," Raynor said. "If you harbor any love for Xela, you will leave now."

"Oh, looks like big sis found herself a prince to come to her aid," Fael taunted. "Has all of Father's training been for nothing? Tell me Xela, how does it feel having a man do your fighting for you?"

"Watch your tongue brother! You know very well I would take great pleasure in cutting it out. Leave now before I put an arrow through your heart."

"You shouldn't be here my son," her father said. "We can never forgive you for what you did to Seelah. Leave. Now."

"Father, how cold. Sending me away without a lick of affection. Mother's death certainly has hardened you." With a flick of his wrist, Fael lifted their father off of his feet, dangling him above the ground though an invisible force. He struggled in the air, kicking his feet hoping to reconnect with a solid surface. "Let's see if we can soften you up." With a push, Fael sent him flying through the air, smashing his spine against the unforgiving stone wall behind him. Airato's statue shook when her father made impact. Xela left the protection sphere and rushed to her father's aid, bending down to check his condition. He was unconscious, but still breathing. Barely.

"Pitiful." Fael spat on the ground, daring to desecrate Airato's house of worship. "I still find it enthralling that Mother could love a man as weak as him."

"You have no right to speak of our mother," Xela shot back. "There is no excuse for what you did to her."

"Misunderstandings, sister. Misunderstandings."

"Misunderstandings? You murdered her. Your own mother."

"Mother had her purpose," Fael said bluntly. "Her role was merely fulfilled."

"I have already told you once to leave," Xela said. Xela grabbed her bow from behind the altar, thankful her anxiety actually had purpose, and planted herself between Raynor and her brother. Readying an arrow, she aimed directly for her brother's heart. The entire populace within the temple held their breaths. A display of violence within Airato's house was sacrilege, but her brother only responded to violence. "Don't make me tell you again. You know I don't miss." Xela's hands held steady, but her mind and heart were racing with panic and confusion. During their years of training, Fael never once exhibited supernatural powers such as this. Why did these powers wait until now to manifest?

Magic was not common in Laedon. In fact there hadn't been a commissioned mage in town at least since Xela was born. The town had in the past had its share of herbalists and salve-makers, but nothing in the mystic sense. Despite never experiencing the work of a mage first-hand, Xela learned from her parents that magic was a gift meant to help others and not for selfish practice. The magic Fael now wielded seemed positively evil.

"Now my dear sister, certainly you would let me present you with a wedding gift before you strike me down?" Fael extended his hand toward his sister, his long fingers like daggers looking to dig into flesh.

"What sort of gift could you possibly present to me other than pain and misery?"

"Xela, you know me too well."

Fael clapped his hands above his head, creating a cloud of black smoke that spiraled down, enveloping him in a vortex. The candles in the temple blew out, cowering in fear of the dark powers that he possessed. Xela released her arrow, sending her missile flying down the central aisle of the temple. The arrow passed clean through the cloud of smog, hitting one of the doors at the entrance.

"That was a good shot Xela," Fael said, his voice disembodied. "I would certainly be dead. Now, my turn." The black smoke charged forward like a bull, knocking Xela to the side. Xela tumbled to the floor, prompting her bridesmaids to come to her aid but she was back on her feet by the time they reached her. The smoke pierced the protection sphere that surrounded Raynor and gathered behind him. Fael's figure materialized from the dark smog. He had an evil grin on his face and clutched his right hand around Raynor's throat.

"Get away from him!" Xela screamed as her bridesmaids pulled her away from the altar. Forcing them off of her, she armed her bow once again. Her eyes welled with tears. She aimed for Fael's head, but she knew she could never take the shot. There was too strong a chance of striking Raynor instead. Fael certainly knew this. Only a coward hid behind a human shield.

"Such a handsome specimen Xela," Fael said to the shocked congregation, their emotions mounting past nervousness and ascending to panic as they sunk lower into the pews and closer to the walls. No one dared to breathe. "Such a shame he has to die." He ran the tip of his finger across Raynor's cheek, taunting Xela with his absolute control. Raynor shuddered at Fael's touch, his eyes trying to tell Xela that everything was going to be ok. He was always a poor liar.

"What have you become?" Xela asked. "You are a swordsman. Never in training did you ever learn to throw men across a room without laying a finger on them."

"You can thank Mother for that."

Xela's anger boiled within her. "What the hell does that mean? Why did you kill her? She was my mother too."

"I loved her," Fael answered in a sweet voice. "It's what she would have wanted. She always thought I would blossom to exceed even Father's expectations. I held her in my arms as the life drained out of her. My potential is limitless."

Xela's grip tightened on her bow, her palms starting to moisten with sweat. "Why now? Why today? Was taking our mother's life not enough to satisfy you? Tell me."

Fael caressed Raynor's skin, his hand slithering across Raynor's chin. "My actions transcend everything you know. Oh Xela, you don't understand now, but one day, you will understand completely. To explain now would serve no end." Raynor struggled under Fael's grasp, making every effort to break free. But Fael was too strong now with darkness fueling his actions.

"If you kill him, I'll slit your throat myself," Xela warned. Her anger was manifesting physically, causing her hands to quiver slightly.

Fael cackled, a sound that seemed to shake the foundation of the temple. "I would love to see you try." Fael twirled his finger in the air, gathering the black smoke around his finger like thread. Then the smoke descended into Raynor's throat. Instantly, Raynor turned ghostly white, his eyes opening wide in shock gazing to the heavens, his mouth gasping for air. The congregation, including Xela's bridesmaids, quickly succumbed to fear and ran out of the temple. Screams echoed off the walls as the flood of people ran, bursting through the back doors into the quiet morning. Raynor's body gave and collapsed to the floor. Xela kept her arrow strung, maintaining her focus on her brother.

_Block out everything but your target,_ her father had taught her. _Focus your energy on the goal. The rest of the world is a distraction._ Even with those wise words, Xela knew her father never envisioned a scenario such as this. All Xela saw was the tip of her arrow in direct line to Fael's heart, refusing to look at Raynor's body at her brother's feet. Discipline was her only haven.

"I know what you are thinking, sister," Fael began. "How could I kill the love of your life on this most blessed day? Would you like him back?" Fael kicked Raynor's corpse with his boot, rolling the body down the short steps from the altar. Xela's focus broke. From the corner of her eye, she zoomed in on Raynor, his face retaining the shock of his death. _No,_ Xela thought. _He's not dead. He's not dead. Fael has already taken my mother. He can't have Raynor too._

"My, my, for once you are speechless. Answer my question Xela. Do you want him back?" Xela said nothing, trying to refocus on her brother. But the longer Raynor's death loomed in the air, the more her focus waned. Lowering her bow, she felt her muscles cramp up, her breath feeling short and difficult.

"Raynor," she whispered as she clutched the amulet he had given her. Her emotions took over as her eyes jumped to Fael. "You are dead!" She readied her bow and was ready to release the arrow when suddenly she froze, her muscles ignoring her will.

"I can feel fear coursing through you sister," Fael said. "And I feed on fear."

"I'm not afraid," Xela said. But it was a lie. She was very much afraid of Fael's new, uninhibited abilities. Of knowing she would be forced to live her life without Raynor's support. Of what Fael had in store for her.

"Why are you lying to me?" He pushed Xela back with another thrust of his palm, sending her to the floor. Even the soft carpet failed to cushion much of the impact. Pain stabbed at her lower spine and the back of her head. "Sit back and relax. The show is just getting started."

Fael took a knife from his back and cut deeply into his palm. Tipping his hand slightly, Fael's blood dripped onto Raynor's body, sinking into his skin. Xela shivered at what she witnessed. This was unnatural. Unholy. Evil. Why could Airato allow such a travesty to occur in her house?

Fael raised his hands over the body, whispering under his breath in a language Xela didn't understand. Raynor's body stirred, convulsing violently as Fael's chanting accelerated. Then the convulsions stopped and Raynor's body quieted.

"Rise," Fael said. Upon command, Raynor sat up and tilted his head, setting his gaze upon Xela. But his eyes were different. They were the eyes of a stranger, not the loving, brave man she loved. This was not Raynor no matter the face it wore.

"He was so beautiful, but flawed. Now he is perfect. Handsome and bathed in death. You see Xela, it was too easy to kill your little boy toy. So easy in fact that I decided to think of a way to make my little scheme more interesting." Fael handed the bloodied dagger to Raynor, placing it delicately in his hands. Its crude craftsmanship suited its dark purpose. Raynor held the dagger firmly, examining its blade with a great satisfaction, sliding his fingers along the dagger's flat edge.

"I searched my soul for something that would be worse than killing your husband. And my, did I find it! Not only will you watch him die, you will kill him yourself."

"You are delusional if you think I would kill my own husband!"

"You won't have a choice. What greater gift could you receive besides a hatred for me? Hatred in yourself. Happy wedding day, dear sister." With a wave of his hand, he was enveloped in smoke and he was gone, dissipating into thin air. Xela was released from whatever control Fael held over her, lowering her bow, but still wary. Raynor stood still, pointing the dagger in Xela's direction. His eyes had one mad intention. Bloodshed.

"Raynor, can you hear me?" Xela said. If there was any trace of the man she loved in this walking zombie, she had to try to reach him. "Raynor, please don't do this. It's me, Xela. You love me remember?" She reached her hand to him, but he did not respond kindly. He stared her down, gripping the dagger with great force while snarling at her like a mindless animal.

Xela felt her heart go numb, forcing herself to subdue her feelings for this man. Or the husk that remained of him. It was the only way she could do what must be done. She lifted the bow and made aim, never shedding a tear. "I love you." Raynor charged her from the altar, dagger poised for attack. Her arrow left her bow and struck Raynor in the heart. His body did not bleed a drop as he died for a second time, for he was no longer living.

_Fael,_ Xela thought as Raynor's body crumbled to the floor a second time, _count your days. When next we meet, it is you who will bleed._

Chapter Two

"Shame to those who cry for vengeance,

No matter how devious the insult.

Those who spill blood as repayment

Will justly receive it back sevenfold."

\- Book of Black, Ch. 6, Verses 27-28

_I am weak,_ Xela prayed. She peeked up at Airato's statue, the goddess keeping a watchful eye over the empty temple pews. The ornaments and embellishments that saturated the temple on her wedding day two years ago had long been removed, but her quest for vengeance lived on, augmented by her memories of that horrific day. It was engrained into her mind. _Holy Goddess, give me the strength to overcome any obstacle placed in my path, the strength to crush my enemies._

Despite her prayers, Xela knew the goddess was not listening. But she didn't know what else to do but pray. Airato had abandoned her. Ever since Xela set her mind on avenging the death of her parents and Raynor, Airato's grace had dissipated. Airato was a goddess of light and Xela's heart was descending into darkness. But Airato had done nothing to prevent their deaths. How could a deity dedicated to justice watch idly by as her family was slaughtered?

After Raynor's death, her father quickly followed suit due to the injuries inflicted by Fael. With her faith shaken, Xela refused to take up her post as High Priestess according to chain of command, leaving the position open. Another High Priest would arrive soon. When that moment came, she could solely focus her efforts on Fael. She owed her family his head on a spear.

On the opposing end, Xela didn't abandon the village as Airato did so that she may quest for her brother's whereabouts like she desired. To do so would bring shame to her family and insult her father's memory. It was already terrible enough that she fled when her father lay dying. Her cowardice forced her father to die alone and for that, she had never forgiven herself.

Behind her, Xela heard the large wooden doors creak open, followed by light footsteps on the carpet lining the aisle. "Gabryelle, what have I told you about interrupting my prayers?" Lifting herself from her knees, Xela turned to face Gabryelle, whose innocence had not been tainted by the events of that day. Her face was vibrant and full of life, carefree and beautiful. Even her hair shimmered as a result of prolonged exposure to the sun.

"How did you know it was me at the door?"

Xela let a small smile slip. "You scuffle." Together they shared a small laugh. "I do suppose you have a reason to be here besides disturbing my prayers?"

"Oh yes, sorry," Gabryelle said, flustered by Xela's sudden change in tone. "A messenger has just arrived from Sol City with the new High Priest. He said it's urgent he speaks to you."

"From Sol City? Was he sent by the Four?"

"I believe so. He's waiting outside for you."

Despite being interrupted, Xela knew better than to keep a messenger from the Holy Council waiting. Receiving a messenger from Sol City was a rare occurrence in itself, but one that came directly from the Four held even greater importance. Xela had only received a courier from the Four one time previously and it was condolences upon her father's passing. And an order that she would take his place as High Priest, an order she blatantly disobeyed.

Xela stepped outside into the mid-morning sun. The temple's shadow arced over the village square in an obnoxiously dominant fashion. The Four fleshed out their coffers for the construction of an inspirational place of worship, but looking around the square at the run-down buildings that resembled more shacks than stable structures, she couldn't help wondering whether the Four truly cared about the people or if they merely wished the people to know the enormity of their influence.

The messenger waited at the temple's entrance, holding the reins of his steed and a scroll that was obviously the message he was to deliver. He looked rugged, dirt on his face and dried blood on his clothes. His journey had apparently been a difficult one. Not the finest messenger she had seen, but she couldn't judge his caliber based on his appearance. His chest plate was emblazoned with a sword flanked by angel wings on its sides, Airato's insignia. The Four had indeed sent this man.

Next to him stood the new High Priest. He was remarkably tall, accented by the messenger who was shorter than most men. His face was hard and stern, nothing like the face of her father. Was she biased on the subject? Yes, but it didn't change her opinion. Laedon needed a soft, nurturing leader after two years in the dark.

"High Priestess, you are looking radiant today," the messenger said. _Clever liar,_ Xela thought. He bowed to her with a smile, the normal greeting to a priest. Xela never understood the custom and felt uncomfortable with such a greeting, especially since she was not a woman of the cloth.

"Please sir, let us skip the formalities," Xela bowed in return. "We both know that I am no priest. That is why this man has arrived." Xela turned to the priest. "What is the name of the man who shall succeed my father?"

"Kylinas," he said with a smile. "My condolences on his passing."

"Thank you Kylinas." Perhaps he was softer than at first glance. "Welcome." She turned back to the messenger. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a message here from Signor Marquis." Xela took the scroll, examining the wax seal that adorned the parchment. Such an emblem was only used when delivering official and important matters. Pulling out a knife from her belt, she broke the seal and unfolded the letter, reading silently the words written:

Xela,

I bring you this message with great urgency. The Four requires your assistance in a matter that concerns the conservation of the faith and also of human life. I cannot explain everything in this parchment for these are dangerous times and must do so face to face. But know that I believe you will have a personal interest in this matter. Pontis, my messenger, will escort you to Sol City in order for you to meet with me. You must travel here on the first chance you have, for time is of the essence. Bring means to protect yourself for the journey. Followers of the Daemon will try to stop you. I will explain more when you arrive safely. May Airato bless you.

Signor Marquis

_But know that I believe you will have a personal interest in this matter. Does he... No,_ Xela thought. Was this finally the chance she had been seeking? Did the Four know of her brother's whereabouts? Was Fael connected with the Daemon somehow? Xela returned the scroll to the messenger, whose name was apparently Pontis.

"It's decided," Xela said. "We will leave at dawn tomorrow. But for now, we need to find these men a room to rest in."

With Gabryelle by her side, Xela escorted Pontis and Kylinas over to the inn across the square. The square was quiet, the vendors abandoning their stalls to gather together to gossip about the latest news. As the group of four passed by, the vendors hushed immediately and eyed the visitors with a sick curiosity. Along the edge of the market were the other official buildings like the courier company. The buildings were identical down to the slanted roof. These buildings, like the temple, were made from stone to endure for longer, but had not weathered time as well as the village's place of worship.

The Sleepy Princess was a modest building with a total of ten rooms to rent, the only one on the perimeter not made from stone. Made of wood, the outside was run down and in desperate need of repair, the Sleepy Princess sign hanging from a single hinge. The weather-beaten structure looked so fragile that a gentle breeze might stand a chance of toppling it over.

The foyer of the small inn doubled as a bar, where patrons would frequent once it became dark. The wooden walls were warped from age, worn thin from years of exposure. Behind the bar were portraits of all the previous owners of the Sleepy Princess and Gaspar, the current owner, took great pride in his ancestors. He was a man of middle age, an age where, despite his receding hairline, he still drank and socialized as though her were twenty-five. As they entered the establishment, his eyes darted to Gabryelle.

"Gabryelle!" he exclaimed. Suddenly remembering he was also in the presence of the High Priest's daughter, he bowed in Xela's direction, accidently hitting his head against the bar. "Your grace. To what do I owe this honor?"

"Hello Gaspar," Xela replied forcing a smile. The overwhelming smell of liquor was making her nauseous. "Can you put these men up in a room? They have ridden all the way from Sol City and could use the rest."

Gaspar's dark brown eyes met with Gabryelle's. "You know Gabryelle that once the sun sets, there ain't much resting going on in here. The Sleepy Princess transforms into the Tipsy Temptress and this place comes to life with the smell of liquor and the stomping of loose ladies dancing on the tables. You should come down one night."

Gabryelle rolled her eyes. "Not a chance Gaspar."

Xela leaned in, placing her hands on the bar. Gaspar's eyes flickered as she stared into his eyes. "I am very aware of the late night activities that go on here Gaspar. Consider it a blessing that my focus isn't spent on "purifying" this establishment. Not to mention you are now in the presence of the new High Priest. Nonetheless, they need a place to stay and you are the only institution in town capable of providing that service. Consider it as a favor for turning a blind eye."

"Of... of course!" he stammered. "I can never turn away a patron. Follow me my good men and I will show you to your room. Hope you find it to your liking!" The shifty innkeeper led Pontis and Kylinas up the stairs to the room, leaving Gabryelle alone with Xela.

"Good to know your influence still moves people."

"I'm certainly not my father. He didn't have to resort to threats. Make sure Pontis and Kylinas are taken care of. I need to prepare for tomorrow." Gabryelle nodded with a smile. Xela turned on her heel and headed back to her house, whispering "Thank you Gabryelle" under her breath.

***

The sun descended, casting shadows over the village of Laedon. The inn rose to life and the squeals of women echoed from across the square. Xela's house had been built directly across the street from the inn. And with that being the case, Xela could hear all the noise perfectly. _Airato, watch over them. They need your guidance more than anyone._ Xela put the thought aside and returned to preparations for the journey.

She would not be able to bring many things with her on the trip to Sol City, but she packed what she thought was necessary. Plenty of rations, clothes for traveling and for meeting the Four, as well as her bow and her daggers. She had traveled before but not quite as far as Sol City. And more than likely, the Four would send her somewhere else once their business in the city was complete. But the act of traveling wasn't the portion of the journey that made her uneasy.

As the leader of the village, Xela had come into contact with many groups of people most would find unsettling. Bandits intending to ransack the village by night and slavers hoping to capture young girls from their beds were among the savages she had encountered and swiftly defeated. If Marquis's warnings were correct, she would be attacked at least once on the journey. But not by something she had faced before. For years, the Daemon had established notoriety for being unforgiving. Certainly his forces would be much more potent than the enemies she had encountered previously.

She stood contemplating if she had forgotten something when a knock came at her door. "You know, you should keep your door closed and latched at night." Xela turned to see Gabryelle standing in her doorway, arms crossed with quite the smirk across her face. "I could have easily been an attacker from a raiding camp. Maybe a wild animal looking for a midnight meal."

"You scuffle remember?" Xela smiled and sank into her chair while Gabryelle took a seat across from her. "Besides, if I thought any danger would present itself I'd have killed you before you could inhale. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Just coming to check on you," Gabryelle answered with a smile. "I've been worried about you Xela. For a long time I've watched my best friend lose herself in her sadness. I just don't know what to do."

Xela leaned over in her chair and raised her eyes to meet Gabryelle's.

"Gabryelle, it hasn't been easy for me. And you have been there every step of the way. And for that I thank you. I will get better. One day I will find my stride once again. I promise."

"Do you miss him?"

Xela looked at Gabryelle, her young eyes so full of questions. Though she witnessed everything that happened two years ago, she still seemed so innocent. Pure. It was the one thing that her brother wasn't able to take away that day.

"Everyday, Gabryelle. Everyday." Xela had begun the approach to life without Raynor as a recovering alcoholic would approach his recovery. If she made it through one day without him, maybe she could make it through another. Two years later, nothing had changed.

"What reason do you think is behind the Four sending this messenger?" Gabryelle asked, pulling Xela back from her thoughts.

"I don't know, but it sounds serious. They asked me, someone who deliberately disobeyed them, for help."

Xela stood and walked over to the window, staring out into the village square. It was late and everything was closed for the evening, except for the Tipsy Temptress. It would be busy for a few more hours. Fools would be stumbling all night in an attempt to find pure bliss with a woman, only to wake the next morning alone and with a headache Airato herself wouldn't wish on the cruelest of men.

"There is something the letter did say that makes me wonder," Xela continued.

"What?"

"Marquis said I would have a personal interest in the matter. Fael is connected to this somehow."

Gabryelle sighed. "Please be careful Xela. Don't lose yourself to hatred. Remember Raynor for his love and his life, not your brother and his hand in Raynor's death."

Xela paused before speaking. "It's a little late for that."

"Then don't go. Stay here, forget Fael and move on."

"I can't stay Gabryelle. My family is gone. I have nothing left here."

Xela heard Gabryelle stand emphatically from her seat. "You have me." She headed for the door.

"Gabryelle wait," Xela said, turning to face her friend. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Gabryelle did not respond as she slammed the door on her way out.

_Damn,_ Xela thought. Looking back to the square, Xela's mind drifted.

Time stopped and Xela saw herself in the middle of the square on a disturbingly hot summer day. It was bustling, people gallivanting about. Merchants were announcing their discounts. Families were shopping for trinkets, as it was around the time of the Festival of Moons. Father himself would be shopping for her, but he wouldn't do so when she was present. Gabryelle was over by a stall looking at small sterling silver statuettes, mostly likely for her mother.

And there was Raynor, just like she remembered. He worked at the mill so his clothes were worn, ripped, and frayed. But his handsomeness completely forgave his choice of garb. And his swooning over Xela was widely known by everyone. He was briskly walking through the square when he accidentally bumped into her, causing her to drop the food she was bringing home from the market. His face turned bright red and he quickly dove to the ground to retrieve her items.

"Xela, I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed. He handed everything back in a heap, too embarrassed to look at her. "I...I am so clumsy. Can you ever forgive me?"

Xela giggled. "It's okay Raynor. No harm done."

"Xela, I was just wondering if you would meet me on the bridge this evening?"

She smiled and nodded. Raynor smiled back and quickly ran the way he came, stopped mid-stride, and ran in the direction he was going before the collision. A light flashed and her wedding day appeared and again Raynor lay dead at her feet, pierced by her arrow. Fael's laughter filled the background.

Xela was snapped back to the present by the sudden hooting and hollering from the pub. The bargirls used questionable tactics to make money. And it seemed they were succeeding in doing so. What those men were looking for was lust. What Xela had found in Raynor was love. Memories were wonderfully happy and terribly painful at the same time. Maybe she would never be at peace, but she hoped one day she would think of Raynor and feel joy contemplating the time they spent together instead of anger.

She was too preoccupied to continue for the evening. Xela slipped underneath her wool blanket on her bed and forced her eyes shut, hoping that for one night she would find solace in her dreams instead of heartache.

***

Gabryelle waited patiently in the square the next morning waiting for Xela to arrive while it was still dark. Despite leaving like she did the last night, Xela was her best friend and she was leaving today. Regardless of how she felt, Gabryelle was obligated to wait for her.

The messenger Pontis picked his teeth as they waited. He sure didn't act like a messenger from the Four, but she couldn't judge him based solely on his hygienic rituals, no matter how disgusting. Pontis just wasn't what she expected. She always pictured a knight in white armor, shining and glowing as he approached. This revelation was just another sign that she needed to grow up, especially with Xela gone. In front of the temple, Kylinas struggled trying to remove the dirt from the front steps with a broom. Gabryelle giggled to herself. Soon he would learn that the dust from the village square could never be swept away.

Just as the first rays of sun peeked over the hill, Xela emerged from her house, carrying a brown satchel and wearing her warrior garb she adorned when protecting the village. She wore a short white robe, covered by bronze armor on her chest shoulders and arms. With a bow strapped to her back and two daggers at her side, she looked like a warrior goddess preparing for battle. That wasn't far from the truth. She was waging war not only with Fael, but within herself these days.

"I didn't know if you would be here waiting for me," Xela said as she plopped her satchel in the dust.

"When your best friend leaves," Gabryelle said, "you say goodbye and wish them well."

"Look Gabryelle..."

"No Xela. Please don't explain. I was out of line trying to tell you what to feel, how to live your life after you've suffered so much. I know you will do what is best for you."

Xela smiled an actual smile that didn't appear forced for Gabryelle's sake. Gabryelle wrapped her arms around Xela and quickly let go, knowing she would break down if frozen in the embrace for too long.

"Xela, are you ready to embark?" the messenger asked.

Xela nodded. She whistled and her horse Nestor trotted over from the stable behind Xela's house. The beautiful beast stood patiently and Xela mounted him. "Take care Gabryelle and I will see you soon."

Pontis and his steed took off with Xela following closely behind; the two fading slowly as the morning sun fully arose.

Chapter Three

"And Wyndel, Her prophet,

Came forth for the downtrodden,

Shielding them from affliction

And leading them to salvation."

\- Book of White, Ch. 2, Verse 34

Xela's body ached as the sun finally began its descent over the horizon. The skyline was painted with strokes of purple and orange, framing the distant Sol City under its beautiful glow. The colors flowed perfectly like a river through a weaving of treetops. Pontis and she had finally cleared the thick woods and the lush green plains were beginning to take form past the lingering trees.

Water. Xela suddenly realized how thirsty she had become. And her canteen was empty. She slowed Nestor to a trot, allowing Pontis to ride beside her.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Don't you think we should stop for the night?"

Pontis nodded. "Yes, I know a little spot ahead that we can camp on." A minute more riding and the pair arrived at a small clearing at the top of a hill that descended into the Sol Plains. Xela dismounted and grabbed the canteens. "I'll find water, you make a fire."

Pontis ran in the direction of the woods without a word. Xela spotted a stream 50 meters away flowing down the hillside. Thirst took over and Xela sprinted to the stream through her body's desire to rest. Kneeling slowly, she cupped her hands and gathered the pure water in them. The stream's sustenance was magnificently clear. Before the liquid seeped through her fingers, she drank and relaxed as the cool water refreshed her throat. Lowering the canteens into the stream, she filled them to the brim. She watched in a mesmeric daze as bubbles danced around the filling containers.

With fatigue officially setting in, Xela stumbled back to the camp where Pontis was already doing a decent job of sparking a fire. With the cool breeze of an autumn night beginning to set in, Xela plopped to the ground, finally letting her muscles relax, sinking into the soft grass underneath, absorbing as much of the dim flames as she could.

Pontis's smile was demonized by the dancing fire casting shadows over his face. He stared at Xela for an uncomfortably long time before he inhaled to speak. "I know it is not my place Priestess, but may I ask what was in the message?"

Xela had given up on correcting the messenger's mistake regarding her title. She merely sighed before answering. "The Four need my help. Unfortunately you know as much as I do." Xela straightened herself up and opened her satchel. She removed a small portion of bread and cheese and quickly consumed the food, following up with a swig of water from her canteen. She glanced again at Pontis, whose stare had not faltered. "My apologies. I'm very hungry."

"Understandable Priestess." Pontis removed a flask from his belt and tipped the flask fully into his mouth, licking his lips as the last drop descended from the container. "I should have asked if you wanted some."

"I don't drink."

"I have to," Pontis said. "After the things I've seen, it keeps the pain away."

Xela leaned forward. "What have you seen?"

Pontis returned the lean. "Too much. Disease, betrayal, you in the hands of the Daemon."

Xela's eyes widened. The dark of night had crept in so quickly and with a growing fire as the only source of light, she felt her bones shiver. As Pontis continued to stare, Xela began to make out a series of bodies appearing behind Pontis. Crudely crafted leather armor, ripped and beaten beyond anything noble, and an awful stench.

"You seem surprised. Not expecting a band of bandits were you?" Pontis stood as the bodies of his companions continued to emerge. Xela could now make out their faces. Some were missing teeth, others missing their hair. One was even missing an eye.

"I should have known you were a bandit by your stench. And the fact that you couldn't stop picking your teeth."

"It doesn't matter you witch. The Daemon has important use for you and it's my job to deliver you to him. So make it easy and just let us take you. Or if you choose to make our task harder, I'm sure my men will not contest to manhandling you themselves. Am I right boys?" The bandits chuckled, unsheathing whatever weapon they possessed for display. They were itching for a fight.

An idea suddenly popped into Xela's mind. There was no way this man could have fooled the Four into believing he was one of the faithful. They were much too powerful and insightful to fall for an illusion so thinly veiled. Which left one question begging to be asked. "Where is the real Pontis?" Xela demanded, fearing she already knew the answer she was about to receive.

The man previously known to be the messenger flashed his crooked smile. "The question is, High Priestess, where isn't he? Isn't it a belief of those under Airato's spell that when the body dies, the soul is released to the world?" The worst was realized. The real Pontis was dead, probably slashed beyond recognition and left dead in a ditch somewhere isolated, where it might never be found. "He doesn't matter. It's you we need. One last chance to come quietly."

_Not a chance,_ Xela thought to herself. Her bow lay at her feet with a full quiver of arrows and she had two daggers strapped to her chest. She counted at least a dozen men, armed with various degrees of weapons. Her chances weren't very good, but she certainly wasn't going to just give herself up.

"Why does the Daemon want me so badly?" she asked, raising her hands slowly to the handles of her daggers. Pontis seemed to take notice of this but made no reaction to it.

"I don't ask questions, I just take action. It doesn't matter to me. We all will get our just reward for bringing you in."

"Then don't let me stop you." She grabbed the dagger on her right.

"Take her down."

Pontis's men charged from their positions, holding their weapons high above their heads. Xela's mind raced, quickly analyzing the situation and the best course of action. Nestor was still nowhere to be found, so running was not an option. If they wanted a fight, they were sure going to get it. Xela chose to hold her ground and make them attack first.

A bandit with a sword was the first to reach her. He went for a horizontal strike, which Xela dodged with ease by jumping backward. He attempted another, but it was easily dodged. She kicked forward into his abdomen, causing him to keel over in pain. She rolled over his back, kicking another incoming attacker. She spun around to face the sword-wielding bandit and diagonally sliced her dagger, connecting with his upper torso. He fell to the ground. One. The attacker she had kicked over her first kill's back came in for another blow, but she kicked him back and slit his throat cleanly. Two.

Crouching down, she picked up a large stick from the burning fire and swung the wood hard, catching an attacker off-guard as the fiery plank struck his shoulder. Embers jumped from the impact, catching the bandit's garb on fire. The man screamed as the flames took over his body quickly, dooming him to a painful death. Three. As his body collapsed, the flames spread onto the grass, creating an inferno that lit up the hillside in a wild blaze.

Xela could see everything clearly now. With three men down, she still faced Pontis and at least twelve other men, all making waves toward her position. She quickly grabbed a lonesome short sword by her feet, for it would come in handy.

Xela looked to her left to see two more bandits charging for her, both wielding large axes. She kicked up some loose dirt, blinding and stunning the attackers. She threw her dagger, connecting its blade to the throat of a bandit. Four. She ran forward and grabbed her weapon from the fallen body. The other bandit had already recovered from the dirt, turning his attention back to her. She lunged forward thrusting the short sword into his abdomen and just as quickly retracted the blade. He fell backward clutching his stomach, his mouth filling with blood. Five.

"You idiots!" Pontis yelled from his position. "She's just one person!"

The clan continued to attack. One came at her with a spiked mace but she blocked the attack with the sword. Pushing him aside, she attacked to her left, ferociously swiping at the defending bandit with both weapons. She managed to weasel his weapon away from him and sent a horizontal slice across his stomach. He fell to the ground clutching his wound as blood ran through his fingers. Six. A bandit took his mace and secured its handle around her neck, choking her as a bandit tried to assault her from the front. She kicked her incoming attacker and using the momentum, flipped over the back of the bandit choking her and stabbed him with her sword. Seven.

Xela was good and had done damage to the group, but the mass of the horde had reached her and she couldn't hold off all of them at once. Her physical prowess gave into their numbers and they were able to pin her to the ground. She fell with a thud, slamming her head into the earth. Pain shot up her spine and her vision became fuzzy. She struggled, but she didn't have the strength to remove multiple men restraining her. She looked up at the bandit leader standing over her. He was smiling, his eyes swiftly moving up and down her body, like a greedy merchant to pricey merchandise. It didn't take a genius to know what he was thinking.

"This is quite a position you are in High Priestess," Pontis said, his tone reflecting the pleasure he took in taking her down. "Too bad your dead husband isn't here to save you." Xela jerked and struggled under the weight of her captors. Pontis brought his head closer to hers until it was about a foot away. "Why don't we have some fun with you before the Daemon claims you, shall we?"

Xela reacted by spitting in his face. He retracted his head and wiped her saliva away as she smiled. The move wasn't very becoming of a priestess or a lady, but he deserved it. She didn't bother struggling for she knew she couldn't break free. But if he was planning on touching her, she was going to make it as painful and difficult as possible for him.

***

_She's good,_ he thought to himself. As he watched the skirmish from his perch in a nearby tree, the Ranger mentally noted everything about the woman. She was strong, well trained, clever, and most definitely stubborn. She had a warrior's instinct that surpassed even the most decorated fighters. And her beauty made her quite the femme fatale. It was clever of her to use the fire to her advantage and reveal what was hidden by the night, although he disliked the effect the fire had on the land. Each blade of grass cried out in pain, filling his mind with anguish.

Finally, she fell, pinned to the ground by the bandits. Still, he applauded her prowess. A rare few could eliminate half a tribe before succumbing to their numbers. _How will she get out of this?_ The Ranger remained hidden, curious to the extent of her resourcefulness in this situation.

The woman spat in the leader's face. The Ranger quietly laughed to himself. _An interesting move,_ he thought. _How will this move play out for her? What was the point?_

"Boys, tie her to the tree," the leader demanded. Upon his command, the bandits dragged her over to the tree upon which the Ranger perched and bound her tightly around her waist and her wrists. After securing the rope, they backed behind their leader like the loyal puppy dogs they were. The leader paraded up to her and quickly slapped her across the face. "Don't you dare try anything like that again or I will send you to the Daemon without a leg!"

Now was the time to help. Terra would be disappointed if the woman were harmed in any way. Straightening his legs, the Ranger took a step off his branch and landed to the side of the captive with the grace of a fallen leaf floating to the earth. The bandit's leader stumbled backwards, thrown off by the Ranger's entrance. His minions helped him up from quivering knees. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.

The Ranger grabbed his staff from his back and lunged forward, jabbing the wood into the leader's stomach. The move pushed the leader back into his lackeys, all of them crumbling to the ground. Pulling a hidden dagger from his boot, he sliced the ropes apart that kept the woman captive.

"Thank you," she said.

"Thank me after we get out of here." The Ranger stomped his foot on the ground and a patch of earth uprooted under the bandits, tossing them into the air and stunning them even further. Rolling onto his side, the leader groaned from deep within his throat.

"You won't get away Priestess. Whatever the Daemon wants, he takes."

A scream pierced the air; a scream so high pitched it seemed to whistle. The Ranger's eardrum shivered at the sound and the priestess seemed shaken as well. She crouched down, covering her ears to dull the intruding shrill.

"What is that sound?" the priestess yelled over the scream's lasting echo.

"A banshee," the Ranger said. The priestess wore a face of confusion. Either she didn't hear him because of a bruised eardrum or couldn't believe what she heard. Whatever her thoughts, he didn't have time to explain without making themselves vulnerable.

He grabbed the priestess's hand instinctively and pulled her toward the forest. She pulled back, snapping her hand from his grasp and unsheathing her remaining dagger. She was poised to fight again.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "Who are you and what do you want with me?"

"I'm here to protect you," the Ranger said. "But I don't have time to explain what's going on. I can take you somewhere safe, somewhere the Daemon can't get you.

"I don't trust you." The priestess refused to move until another scream rang loudly. As the echo faded, the Ranger grabbed her hand again and pulled and this time she did not waver. As they picked up speed into the forest, the Ranger felt a cold chill shoot down his spine. They were closing in.

***

On the basis of wanting to live, Xela grabbed this mysterious man's hand. Could she really trust him? He did just save her but was that enough to form the basis of trust? No was the answer that immediately came to mind. But at the moment she didn't have a choice. Something was after her and whoever this man was determined to get her away from it. She would be cautious nonetheless.

His hands felt rough and Xela could tell he had worked his entire life with his hands. Perhaps he was a carpenter. It explained the excellent craftsmanship of his staff but it didn't explain how he knew how to fight and wield such a weapon so proficiently. No carpenter she knew could trounce a group of bandits with the ease of which he did. Nor make the earth move. Underneath his cloak, she saw a simple tunic of beige and tight brown pants. Maybe he was a monk, but monks were peaceful hermits, not the kind to run around striking people with staves or waiting patiently in the trees. To say the least, the horde of bandits that had attacked her had been soundly defeated by a man she could not read.

Another banshee cry ripped through the night air, sending another wave of pain through her ear canal. The stories her father told her as a little girl had merely been for entertainment, tall tales that bore no relevance to reality. Never did she imagine that such tales were true.

_Stop,_ she screamed at herself. _How can you be sure it's a banshee? You didn't even see one. Just because this person told you it is so does not make it true._ Another issue regarding the trust of a stranger. The hooded man told her that the enemy was a banshee but was the threat fabricated to get her to run into the forest with him? Perhaps he was another bandit, luring her into another trap.

But what other being could make that terrible noise?

The stranger had affirmed to her that the Daemon was the one pursuing her. The bandits had failed in their task of keeping her hostage. It seemed the Daemon had a backup plan in case of their failure. If the Daemon was able to control these beings, he was powerful man indeed. Seems the Four did have more to worry about with his cult. At first, it seemed his cult was a small rebellion company, denying every belief of Airato openly and worshiping their leader, the Daemon, as a god himself. The Four, believing the sect would all chant upon deaf ears and eventually fizzle out of being, ignored the Daemon's group. But slowly more followed the Daemon's call. And it appeared he can control banshees, tame bandits, and shield his other secrets until a time when he deemed it useful. Where did Fael fit into all this?

All of these thoughts flooded her mind in a matter of seconds.

The duo took off into the trees, away from the piercing screams of the specters. The hooded man led the way, running full speed between the trees and brush, all the foliage seemingly stepping aside to let the visitors run through. The forest seemed to be an endless maze that contained numerous paths to take. However, this man had run this gauntlet many times before, knowing every turn, every strafe, every bound through the labyrinth. His focus never wavered, intended on bringing her to safety. He never let go of her hand.

Xela felt her guide through the trees slow his pace and they stopped on the edge of a ravine. Xela was out of breath, hunched over gasping for air as he finally released his grip on her hand. The sky hung over their heads, silent, waiting. She glanced over the edge, her curiosity satisfied by a drop hundreds of feet onto an unforgiving sheet of jagged rock. She kicked a loose rock from the edge and counted the seconds it took for it to plummet below. Ten seconds. Looks like this was one dead end they couldn't avoid. _I'd rather the bandits than this,_ she thought.

"What are we going to do now?" Xela said. "Whatever is chasing us is still coming." The man stood silent, unresponsive to Xela's panic. He lowered his hood, revealing a rugged face with beautiful blue eyes. A scar ran across his visage from his brow down to just below his left eye. Long silver hair fell to his shoulders. He smiled at her and returned his attention to the ravine. Looking across the death drop, Xela noticed a cliff on the other side. Is that where they were going?

"We cross to the other side," the man said, staring across the valley.

"You must be out of your mind. We couldn't possibly cross this gap." A banshee let another wail ring through the air, and Xela turned around to see it emerging from the trees. It hovered above the ground; its white face stripped of flesh, its feet dangling lifelessly like the wraith was hanging by an invisible noose. It was the face of a woman, her face full of anger, her stare cutting through Xela as if she was the one that had killed her. Long white hair lay lifelessly over its shoulders and long, gangly limbs that hung like lifeless branches swayed side to side, covered by a cloak that was torn and ripped to shreds. It smiled at Xela upon meeting her gaze. This was no friendly hello in the smile, but a fiendish goodbye.

Behind the wraith lurked two other specters, each with their own disfigured features. But the woman was the most frightening, the most striking. Xela's lungs refused to function. She backed away, taking one step too many and felt herself slip.

She seemed to be falling in slow motion. The stars were out, beacons of beauty in the darkness of the night. The twin moons glowed like cat eyes peering down from the heavens onto its prey. When she was a little girl, her father would tell her that they were Airato's eyes. Like the silly girl she was, she asked, "if she was watching, why doesn't she say anything to us?" Her father patted her on the head and said, "She does, but does so without words." Turns out Airato did not care and merely watched the people who served her suffer for pure entertainment. Without words, she condemned all of Xela's loved ones to die.

So many questions remain unanswered. But Xela, in the last seconds of her life, could only think of one thing. Raynor. The stars above her seemed to outline his features, his face looking down upon her, smiling because they would finally be together. It was Raynor, not Airato, who held her in a soft, comforting embrace and in a few moments, her head will be resting on his chest, as if the past two years had been a sick and terrible nightmare that will dissipate the minute she wakes up next to him. He will look at her and ask "what's wrong?" She will say "it was just a dream" and they would live the life they should have.

It was at this thought her back felt the cold, hard rock beneath her. The landing was jarring, but not typical of a fall from a high cliff, not to mention she would feel the unforgiving stab of the jagged rock into her body. She looked to her feet and saw that she had merely fallen maybe two feet. Where the gap hung was now a narrow slab of rock jutting out from the cliff. Her hooded guide stood next to her. _This man has more power than meets the eye,_ she thought as her rescuer pulled her up. Having come to terms with dying not a few seconds ago, Xela was furious. She was going to be with Raynor again and this forest roamer took that from her. But before she could say a word, he grabbed her waist.

"Hold steady," he said. He stomped his foot like before and like lightning, their slab of rock shot further from the side of the cliff, extending to the other side of the ravine and stopping a foot below the edge. The slab carried the pair with it, so quickly that Xela barely had time to react to the man's warning. They stepped up to the cliff and took off in a sprint, not leaving a second for Xela to exhale.

A scream rang through the air as they escaped into the trees once again. The sound was even more terrifying now that she had seen the specter in front of her and could place a face with the sound. Her feet grew wings and she ran faster than she had ever before, her feet pounding in the earth through her leather boots. She mindlessly followed the stranger's green cloak through the forest.

"Why are they after me?" she asked her forest guide as they ran. There was no time to stop and answer questions.

The man finally responded, "All will be explained in time. Right now, we need you safe. We are almost there." Xela did not accept this as an answer. She pulled away her hand, forcing them to a sudden stop. Surprisingly, the man's face expressed not panic or appear cross, but understanding. How he was reacting to the entire situation was throwing Xela through a loop. How could he be so calm?

"I said why are they after me?" Xela repeated, more sternly than before.

"I promise you that you will understand everything soon," he said. "Please, we don't have the time to discuss this right now." "Well make time!" Xela shouted. "Angry spirits and bandits aren't the usual company I keep. I have a right to know why I am running!"

"She was right," the man admitted shaking his head. "She knew you were going to be this way."

"Excuse me? Run that by me again."

"Please priestess, I have to get you somewhere safe. All your questions will be answered, but I can't do that unless you are alive for me to explain." Xela paused, letting her anger subside before speaking again.

"I understand. But once I'm safe, I want to know everything. This conversation isn't over." This was all she was going to get out of him it seemed. His focus was on the path ahead and, as far as he had convinced her, to keep her safe.

Stepping through the brush, they arrived at a wide stream. The hooded man whistled a three-note song in the direction of the river. He repeated the sequence three more times, in between the screams of the banshees, who were quickly getting closer. When the last whistle echoed out of existence, three people popped out of the trees across the river. They had the same hunter green cloak as her rescuer did, and staves of wood strapped to their backs.

"Boys, prepare the way!" Upon command, they wielded their staves and traced a symbol Xela did not recognize in the earth. The symbol began to glow a bright green, shining even brighter thanks to the contrast of the dark mud. The trees across the river cracked and twisted to form an archway into the dark forest. What was once just brush had ripple-like texture to it, similar to when a pebble drops into a still pool. Certainly it was a portal, a doorway to someplace safe away from the phantoms pursuing her.

The men then traced from the doorway to the edge of the river and the ground rumbled beneath them. Rocks embedded under the rushing water rose above the stream providing small stepping stones across the divide. All these rituals were the result of what Xela could only guess was magic. The only magic she ever witnessed before was from Fael and it left a poor taste in her mouth.

The group of banshees chasing them had finally caught up with them. "Priestess, go now!" the cloaked man said as he threw himself in front of her. "The forest will protect you. Go." Xela obeyed and ran across the stepping stones to the other side. When her feet hit the soft earth she turned back to her protector. Staff in hand, he stood ready to fight the evil spirits. His veins glowed green, his lit body shining brightly in the dark woods. Xela was forced to shield her eyes from the fierceness of the man's luminescence. The banshees seemed slightly taken aback by this new development as well.

He pounded his staff into the earth, causing the ground to rear up, forming a barrier between himself and the banshees by solidifying into rock. The barrier fractured into dozens of floating stones. One by one the stones dived at the spirits, smashing into their spectral bodies. The spirits screamed and Xela clutched her ears in pain. The man turned and his eyes were glowing, as if his eyes had never existed where the pockets of light were. His veins glowed even brighter than before, his power soon to be unleashed again. The men with her on the other side of the stream grabbed her and started escorting her through the forest arch with haste. She looked back as the banshees attacked. A bright green flash blinded her and then there was only darkness.

Chapter Four

"When we are faced with confusion,

We must ask Airato for clarification.

And should we still seek answers,

We must look within our hearts.

For it is in this chamber of life

That Airato makes her home."

\- Sermon, Writer Unknown

A black sun rose on the horizon casting darkness on the land, a shadow far blacker than any ever experienced by mankind. All the light slowly drained from the world, making the land barren. Xela stood in an open field barefoot in a traditional priest robe. She felt the grass beneath her feet, but the grass soon faded to gray and shriveled to nothing, becoming a wasteland that bore no life. She looked at the black sun, growing larger and dominating the sky.

Suddenly, with a growl that echoed over the land, the black sun split open, sending forth a mass of swirling black smog that galloped down the wasteland towards Xela. As the smog charged, the land crumbled into darkness, gathering in the swirling tornado as mere dust, disappearing from existence entirely. Xela looked in horror as the land around her disappeared before her eyes and she could do nothing to prevent its destruction. She heard whispering in her ear, but she couldn't tell if it was one or many voices. The phrases were disjointed and didn't make sense. Were they trying to tell her something? She felt a sharp jolt through her body.

And she awoke. Through the sweat, confusion, and heavy breathing, she studied her surroundings. She had hoped to see her house, feel the familiar material of the wool blanket on her bed. She wanted desperately to walk out her door to see the village square and the familiar buzzing of the morning shuffle.

But she was not home. She was sleeping on top of a bed much larger than her own. The walls were plain, made from some sort of wood and shaped with a dome-like design instead of the box-shaped huts common in Laedon. Across from her was a vanity that dominated the entire wall. The smell of the forest surrounded her and that small sense of familiarity kept her calm, particularly after the whirlwind of events she had experienced the night before. Where was she? What happened to the banshees and the hooded man who had protected her from them? Was he alive or did he die at the hands of the evil spirits?

She slipped out of bed and walked over to the vanity opposite her. Someone had taken the kindness to change, wash, and dry her clothes. Whoever had taken charge of her had dressed her in a long linen nightgown in which to sleep. Xela sat down at the vanity and examined it. It was superior quality, handcrafted from what felt like bronze bark, a rare wood that paid a high price at the market and was priceless to those who could put it to good use. Bronze bark was an extremely malleable resource. She had once seen a shield made of bronze bark and the strongest weapons could not crack its defense. This piece of furniture would last for years, most likely outliving even her.

Xela glanced in the mirror and took a long look at herself. The woman she saw was beyond recognition. She never looked more vulnerable. Her face was drained of color and her hair fell sadly down her back. Her eyes stared back at her lost and defeated. Were it not for the help of a stranger, she would either be dead or in the hands of a criminal. It was embarrassing.

She walked over to the window and gazed out from its perch. The hut stood on a hill amongst many other dome-shaped huts. The settlement was surrounded by the forest she was running through the evening before. From her view, the village was a wide valley. Around the rim, dwellings like hers stood overlooking the rest of the village, sparse with larger clusters of land surrounding them. These lands were tended by a handful of workers, cultivating the land for resources. Farming was minimal in Laedon, the economy constructed mainly around the mill. Here, farming seemed to be the primary focus, particularly because it was flush with green and seemed to sit on very fertile earth.

As the valley descended, the huts grew taller, bunching together to create a mountainous metropolis until they reached the valley's lowest point. At the center, there stood a giant tower whose peak rose to the top of the valley's rim. The tower was intertwined with a giant oak, whose branches reached for the heavens, with bronze bark solidified into an indestructible metal. The layout of the city seemed to mimic the rings of a tree, a cleverly crafted cityscape protected by the thick forest. The sun smiled down upon this place.

Something about the city seemed familiar.

A knock came at the door of the hut and a man stepped through the threshold. He wore a brown robe that touched down to his toes. He was an older, heavy-set man with wrinkles starting to form on his face and his hair starting to show streaks of gray through a chocolate mane. His face was soft and as he smiled at her, any worry she had about his intentions floated away.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. His voice was imbued with wisdom.

"Fine," Xela quickly responded without thinking. "Thank you for letting me rest here. I am in your debt."

"My dear, I'm sure you have many questions about what happened yesterday. All those questions will be answered in time. For now, you must get ready. Our elder wishes to see you. I will be waiting outside." _All your questions will be answered in time,_ she repeated to herself, mocking the phrase. She always hated that saying. It was however, one of her father's favorites. Those words were always his little of way of reminding her about patience and the fact that hers was thin.

As he turned to walk away, Xela quickly stopped him. "Please just answer one question for me. Is the man who saved me alive?"

"Yes, he is well. Now please, get ready." He smiled and left the hut. Xela felt a small touch of relief knowing her rescuer was safe. She had enough guilt over the deaths of Raynor and her parents and she didn't want to add any more. She was the reason he had thrown himself in harm's way. But for now she had to meet with whoever this elder was and then press on to Sol City. She was still summoned by the Four, and she needed them to know she wasn't dead. Unfortunately, she needed to tell them that Pontis was certainly dead.

She slipped off the nightgown she had been given and put on the clothes that she was wearing yesterday, the clean scent enveloping her as the cloth touched her skin. But her bow, quiver, and daggers were missing. Did she lose it in her flight through the forest? No, she was certain she felt their weight up until everything went black. Another question that she would want answered when the time came. After finishing lacing her boots, she tied her hair back and stepped outside.

She could now see the valley for the beauty that it was from up close. The foliage seemed to glisten by the sun's kiss. The streets of the valley interlaced together, all leading down to the bronze bark tower in the center of the city, like rivers running to greet the sea. Citizens were walking these paths beginning their morning routine. These proud people all dressed in simple tunics in earth tones and seemed to blend into the forest as they accomplished their tasks.

The farms were bountiful with large vegetables and herbs sprouting from the earth with vigor. Not a space in her eyesight appeared to be barren. The irrigation system must be revolutionary in order to accommodate the size of the task. The man that had been sent to retrieve her was speaking with a young man leaning against his hoe. Wide trousers and no tunic revealed a muscular figure, recompense for years of labor in the fields.

"An attack so near to the city's gate?" the young man asked. "I'm not the only one who's worried."

"My son, there is no place for worry. The opposition was repressed and patrols have been increased. Lieutenant Tiro has assured me that we remain safe. No may enter our city without our consent, you know that."

The young man motioned his head toward Xela.

"What is this place?" Xela asked. Her curiosity had to be satisfied because she needed a name for the city surrounding her besides "the hidden city in the forest."

"People had many names for our fair metropolis, but we know it as one name, Eden," the older man said.

"Are you telling me this is Eden, city of legend?" Xela said, believing the man to be joking, but the seriousness in his face proved opposite. She had heard of Eden, but only in passing and it was always brushed aside to be a fairytale, a mere myth. A city built among the treetops created by the old goddess Gaia was a symbol of utopia, a society completely at one with nature. Perhaps because it was supposedly created by Gaia, not Airato, that its existence was omitted from people's knowledge entirely. Eden was one subject her father swore was only a story.

"City of legend?" the old man said. "Is that what they call us now?" He bellowed a deep laugh from his throat. "Young lady, you just made my day. May Gaia bless the path you walk. Forgive me, but am afraid I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Babylon." He extended his hand in greeting and she took it, shaking firmly.

"It is wonderful to meet you Babylon."

"Please, follow me." Babylon bowed to the young man he was conversing with and started to lead Xela down a winding path toward the city proper and the center tower. The huts they passed were all strikingly similar, but with very subtle differences that certainly were the choice of the owner. The flora that decorated the exterior of the huts ranged from roses and daffodils to lilies and tulips, all blending together creating a collage of color.

"You know, you are the first visitor to our city in five hundred years. Seems the outside world has forgotten we exist, save for a select few." Babylon winked. "I guess being mythicised is a testament to our efforts in, shall we say, defensive evasion."

"Everything is beautiful," Xela said. She understood why they had barred themselves from the rest of Sol.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence but Babylon provided good company, greeting the hosts of people as they passed by and throwing an occasional smile at Xela. Meanwhile, Xela spent even more time observing the city with even greater intrigue. The city wasn't built on treetops, but that could have easily been exaggerated, helping to forge the city's existence into legend.

Though not a typical metropolis, the urban section of city bustled with activity. Men and women zipped by her in a mad dash to reach their destinations. Market stands littered the streets carrying an assortment of food, jewelry, clothing, and toys. The streets constantly kicked up dust from the shuffle of feet, making the city look hazy. A few times Xela coughed at the overwhelming amount of airborne dirt.

As they walked closer to the tower, Xela was able to fathom the massive size of the structure. The behemoth of a tower seemed to touch the heavens itself, the bronze bark shimmering in the bright sunshine. Craftsman must have taken decades to complete the work.

Babylon led her through the entrance of the tower and immediately all was quiet. The foyer was bare save for two spiral staircases that snaked skyward and a single entrance between them barred by double doors. Xela anticipated that the Elder awaited at the peak of the tower, as most mortals with power aimed for the heavens, but Babylon strode forward to the double doors. He pushed them open and led her into a wide and lengthy chamber.

The chamber was a receiving room for the Elder. A long rug pointed towards a unitary seat at the end of the room, six rounded pillars embellishing the route to the throne. Painted on the ceiling was a mural of a beautiful woman standing naked. On her palms sat the world, lush with forests, oceans, and rivers, visualizing a magnificent creation. The woman's eyes were pure white, perhaps symbolizing the twin moons standing constant vigilance in the night sky. The sky surrounding her was lit with endless stars. Seems Airato's religion wasn't the only one to personify the astral.

"Do you like the mural?" a voice boomed through the room. Xela quickly looked to and fro, attempting to find the source of the voice, but the chamber appeared empty except for her and Babylon.

"Babylon, you may leave us," the voice commanded. Babylon took Xela's hand and stroked it gently.

"Don't worry dear, you are in good hands." And with a smile, he quickly exited the room, bowing as he stepped out.

"Xela of Laedon." A figure slowly stepped from behind the seat of power and walked in her direction. It was a woman with long red hair that fell past her shoulders to her lower back and eyes as green as the forest itself. Her sheer linen dress gave off a green tint and flowed with every step, hugging the curvatures of her figure. Fireflies danced around her, showering the woman with glints of green and blue. She smelled of sweet pine and the scent seemed to surround Xela when the woman finally spoke again. "Welcome to Eden. I am Terra, daughter of Gaia." Xela bowed, unsure of how to respond in the proper custom. She didn't believe in Gaia but Terra deserved respect nonetheless.

"Again I ask, do you like the mural? My mother has gazed down from that ceiling for millennia. Come, you have many questions I'm sure. I will be happy to answer them." Terra turned on her heel and strode in the direction she came, beckoning Xela to follow behind her. Xela did so cautiously. "I'm sure your first question is to ask what happened last night? Am I correct?"

"Yes, yes it is. I just don't seem to understand it all, my lady. I was summoned to Sol City—"

"By your spiritual leaders," Terra anticipated. "I believe you call them the Four. Yes I am aware. You were wondering why you were attacked by bandits and then by the banshees, all minions and missionaries of the Daemon. My dear, I am unable to tell you that reason. The Daemon wants you for something but whatever his purpose is for you remains hidden from me. Though I have tried to break through his defenses, I cannot pierce the darkness that surrounds him."

"You know of the Daemon?"

"Child, just because your world has chosen to forget about us does not mean we are ignorant enough to forget about you. Yes, the Daemon is well known to me. All too well as a matter of fact. Whether he knows of our existence or not, his actions bring ill tidings to not only your domain, but ours as well."

With the Daemon creating enemies from all corners of Sol, the Four would be interested to know they might have an ally against him. But would they believe her story that a civilization the world believed was lost to myth loathed the very same enemy? She wanted to win their trust to learn about her brother, not suffer at the hands of their skepticism. Xela turned her focus back to more important questions.

"Why did that man save me?"

Terra'a face twisted, irked by the tone of Xela's question. "He did so on my orders. Once I understood how important you were to the Daemon's designs, I sent him out straight away to find you. I couldn't possibly let you fall into his grasp without a fight."

"I can fight my own battles."

"That overwhelming sense of pride will get you killed," Terra said, her fireflies intensifying into brilliant flares. "You would already be in the hands of the enemy if I hadn't interfered."

Xela stood silent as Terra's fireflies dimmed back to normal.

"I know why you fight," she said leaning into Xela to meet her eyes. "Justice is a cause to fight for, not vengeance. I'm not sure you understand the difference. And refusing help from others will be your kiss of death."

"I'm sorry," Xela said, realizing she was rude and out of line. Her father would be disappointed. She paused before asking another question. "My rescuer, what is he exactly?"

"Jerell is a Ranger, a soldier within our ranks. But you mean his special "talents" don't you?"

Xela nodded as Terra continued. "Jerell is a descendant from the Druids, an ancient race that wielded the powers of nature, thanks to a stronger connection to the earth than most human beings. What you witnessed in the forest was Jerell becoming one with the earth and, essentially, one with Gaia. A descendant is only born once every thousand years."

Searching her mind, Xela couldn't find one memory of the Druids. Her father never mentioned them and they didn't appear anywhere in her studies. The knowledge of their existence must have died when Eden was reduced to legend. Jerell would make a powerful ally.

"Xela, I am asking Jerell to accompany you to Sol City. The Daemon's forces are still searching for you and there are more than banshees among them. For years, I have felt something stir within the earth and the Daemon is to blame. I have a feeling you have seen it too." Xela immediately thought back to her nightmare from the previous evening.

"A black sun," she whispered. She looked into Terra's eyes, watching as the daughter of Gaia pondered the situation. "Terra, if you wish Jerell to accompany me, I will not protest. But I request to leave as soon as possible."

Terra nodded in agreement. "Xela, listen to me. Though your Goddess Airato holds no sway here, whatever threatens your sect also threatens mine. This evil does not discriminate and it will destroy everyone. Go, your weapons are with Babylon. Be careful. May Gaia watch over you." And as she strode away, Xela could hear one final utterance.

"You look so much like your Father."

The light of the fireflies dimmed and Xela was left alone with the woman in the mural and her own thoughts. Her father knew a great many things and it seems he knew Eden as well. Why did he never tell her of this place? He had obviously been here before, but neglected to tell her. And Eden's overwhelming sense of familiarity puzzled her. She had no memory of this city but yet, she felt connected to it.

It was a few seconds later that Babylon lightly tapped her on the shoulder. "Xela, this way." He took her by the hand and led her from Terra's chambers and out to the street. Waiting outside with an attendant was her weaponry wrapped in linen. Xela took them and strapped them back into place. Their familiar weight put a small ounce of comfort back in her body, knowing she could protect herself once again. "Now my lady, this is where we officially depart." He bowed graciously and gently kissed her hand. "May Gaia bless your path."

As Babylon walked away, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Jerell's rough exterior, smirking at her. In the light of day, his rugged face was very handsome. His olive skin glistened in the refulgence of the day and his scar ran far deeper than it looked in moonlight. And in comparison to the moons, his hair may have contested which was more luminescent. "Priestess, it is good to see you in less dire circumstances. I never formally introduced myself. I am Jerell."

"It is nice to finally put a name with the face," Xela said. "I suppose I should thank you for your efforts last night."

"Come, we must get going. I know you are anxious for us to be on our way. Oh, there is something I have for you." Jerell whistled and around the corner trotted Nestor, his hooves digging into the dirt. He was beautiful and as soon as he spotted Xela, he whinnied with delight. Xela reached out her hand to his nose and patted it lovingly.

"He was wandering the hillside looking for you. He is a fine horse."

"Thank you for finding Nestor," Xela said. "But we should go."

Jerell nodded. Xela mounted her horse and pulled Jerell up behind her. He held her waist in his strong hands.

"Priestess, we need to head northwest."

"Please Jerell. Call me Xela. I'm certainly no priestess." She whistled to Nestor and they were off.

***

Terra took her seat and crossed her legs as her most trusted servant bowed.

"Something troubles you my servant. Please speak your mind."

Babylon hesitantly raised his eyes to meet his elder's. "Why didn't you tell her what you know?"

"She wouldn't be able to handle the truth. She would never believe me. I don't want to be the one to turn her world upside down."

Babylon silently lowered his head. "So what do we do now?

"Aid her as best we can. For when the final battle comes, she will either be our savior or our destruction."

Chapter Five

"Airato claims to stand for justice,

But how can her house claim such a platform

When she stands idly by

And watches the world crumble?"

\- The Daemon

Sol City was constructed upon the ashes of an ancient civilization as a standing symbol of power, the supposed power of Airato, the goddess of light, justice, hope, and all things holy. Her power reaches no limits and extends beyond visible borders, beyond our plane of existence entirely. Of course, no one has ever seen the Goddess in the flesh, save for a single prophet who preached her eternal existence, her omnipotence, and kindness before being struck down by the warlords of his time. It was believed Airato would be able to eradicate all darkness from the world, cleanse the foul stench the earth had begun to discharge. But she never expected me. I am a testament to her failure.

I stand among the ruins of this ancient city, a once great civilization become mere catacombs under the crushing weight of a civilization so flattered by itself that it doesn't yet realize that what lies beneath its streets will become their ruin. Darkness surrounds me, cloaking my existence to a world yearning to find me, to destroy me. We are one entity, the darkness and I, each of us an extension of the other in a symbiotic love affair that breeds infinite possibilities. The power coursing through my being makes the impossible, possible and the improbable, absolute.

In the darkness, an ancient aqueduct hovers above me, a tiny reflection of the old city's former glory. Only crumbled skeletons of the structures endure in this dank empire. Where the aqueducts once carried water now holds only dust. The city's existence was forfeited long ago by man's complete delusion of grandeur. The Old Gods saw the monsters they had created and punished them with a purifying fire that burned fiercer than any in written history. But how quickly our mistakes are repeated because they are not recorded for generations to come, perverting truth into legend, legend into myth, and myth into oblivion.

The name of this decaying catacomb is lost to time, a symbol of man's ignorance of the past and misplaced hope in the future. I am the city's only remaining inhabitant, save for the rats scurrying across the old stone. Even these creatures of the dank dare not approach me. For years I have bided my time in this void, preparing the way for what is to come. My servants, on the other hand, choose to stay in limbo between my netherworld and the ugly glow of the streets above, unable to completely embrace the darkness as I have. They are weak, and soon my use for them will be spent.

I hear footsteps, faint at first and quickly gaining in volume. Heavy boots slam into the stone as water splashes from a stagnant pool. I know the one who comes, for his pattern remains the same with every venture into my domain. My servant Yokun, a disfigured giant whose intelligence doesn't extend past the tip of his crooked nose, has returned to me. But he serves his purpose, delivers what I desire. His lack of ambition serves as a perfect tool to use at my disposal. If only all my servants followed so devotedly.

The footsteps stop and I can smell his foul odor directly in front of me. He stands two feet superior to me, but he knows not to dare cross me. One does not bite the hand that feeds you. Or in this case, gave new life to. This barbarian was the scourge of the southern deserts, wasting his strength and brutality for pillaging villages and raping women as their husbands watched unable to move after he broke their legs. Though his sadistic ways remain intact, I have merely focused them on more important tasks.

He grunts, speaking no clear words or phrases, merely emitting a sound only worthy of a barbarian. Behind him, bound in chains, lies a female, barely a woman. Her body is bruised, beaten, and scratched. Blood stains her skin. She had put up a fight against Yokun, but obviously his size overwhelmed her. It always does.

Yokun stands at attention, waiting my next command. "You have done well," I say. Yokun snorts, his way of appreciating my affirmation. "I trust our insider was helpful in retrieving her. After all, who wouldn't trust a priest?" Yokun grunts in response. I am not sure if it is a sound of agreement or a sound of impatience. "I trust he is dead. Can't have any loose ends can we?" Yokun merely snorts and I am satisfied that the deed is done.

"Bind her to the pillar to my left," I command. Yokun drags her body against the cold stone. Her skin scrapes against the rough slabs, bringing more contusions on her being, but she does not struggle. Good. It will be easier this way. Yokun has a remarkable talent in destroying a person's spirit. When their spirit has died, it makes my task easier. Once Yokun straps her to the pillar, I dismiss him and with a grunt he leaves, his heavy steps fading into the darkness where he will await my next order.

I gaze into her eyes, wide with fear, her hair tangled around her face. Her breathing is fast and shallow, for she is scared of me. She should be. I could snap her neck before she could scream, make her one of my children. She would be even more beautiful than she is now. The chains have bruised her body, their burden heavier than her muscles can withstand. Her fear feeds me, nourishes my power. I feel my heartbeat quicken, bathing in the excitement over the impending kill.

I reach my hand to her face and feel her soft skin. She quivers at my touch, a reaction I expected and take pleasure in. I push my body up against hers and breathe in her aroma. She smells the same as she ever did, the effect of remaining in a small village like Laedon for so long. Does she know she is going to die? Does she know that her newfound existence will serve a higher purpose more pivotal than she could imagine? Once her eyes adjust to the darkness, she will know who I am. She will know the identity of the mysterious creature she knows as the Daemon, a name that I have efficiently planted in the minds of the populace. It is a name that I have spent much time attributing with fear and terror.

"Sweet darling," I whisper in her ear, "my, my, my you are quite beaten." My warm breath settles on the nape of her neck and she attempts to shrink away from me. "I see you met my servant, Yokun. By your injuries, I can speculate that you didn't react very kindly to his dominance over you. I apologize. He is very persuasive when he wants to be." My whispers echo through the empty city, resonating amongst the structures as a testament to my power. Here, I am God. "Once your eyes adjust to my darkness, you are going to see my face. Don't bother screaming. No one will hear you."

"Who are you?" she asks me. Her vision is slowly returning to her. It's amazing she doesn't recognize my voice. That is a question I will not answer for she will know in time. "Who are you?" she repeats with a fake sternness. It's humorous how she tries to be assertive in the face of death. I raise my hand and strike her swiftly across the face.

"Do not repeat yourself," I snarl. "I heard you quite clearly the first time you spoke. You will have your answer when it is my wish." Blood is on my hands, the girl's, not mine. She begins to sob, her cries echo through the empty space. I believe she truly understands how this will end for her. Her tears mean nothing for they hold no sway against my duty. The catacombs remain silent to her cries, ringing them back to us, mocking her. Using my right hand, I clutch her tiny throat. Her cries are muffled but continue under my grasp.

I squeeze my grip tighter, causing her to gurgle in panic. I have efficiently cut off her breathing, exponentially cultivating her fear for me to harvest. Her dread permeates through my body like a warm fire, feeding my power and filling my form with pure euphoria as her heart erratically beats.

"Has your vision returned yet?" I ask. I realize she does not respond because she is unable to with my hand crushing her throat. Asking the question is futile anyway, for the minute she sees my face, she will scream. And these walls will echo back the terror endlessly. I must not let my impatience get the best of me. I have waited years for my plan to come to fruition and I will not allow myself to grow restless now.

I release my grip, forcing the girl to take in a desperate breath. She coughs again and again, her lungs gasping for air. I hear footsteps again, quicker and lighter than Yokun's. It seems the bandits have returned. And if I am correct, by the way they tread in their steps, they have failed me.

"What is it?" I say, already expecting bad news. I refuse to turn to them, for looking on such bile would be an insult to my eyes. The little man stands shaking. I swear I hear his bones rattling together like the melodic rhythm of claves. "Spit it out!"

"I did as you asked my lord," the man says sheepishly. "I took the place of the messenger and escorted the priestess out of the village."

"And?"

"Well sire, we didn't get her."

"This is not unexpected. I figured you would fail. Xela of Laedon is a woman of survival and she has fought off worse than you. But the banshees didn't retrieve her either," I state. I turn to face the mongrel. His head is bowed and his body shakes like a shivering dog. He is too afraid to look me in the eyes and admit his incompetence. His fellow outlaws fall to their knees in reverence, hoping to achieve mercy despite their failure.

"But there was some interference my lord. A hooded man from the forest intervened, knocked us out and took the priestess."

"A hooded man?" I ask. "That certainly is interesting." A factor I had not expected, outside interference. Perhaps someone else has a stake in my priestess's actions. "I will look into the existence of such a person. But for now, the plan is proceeding as scheduled."

"Sire, I apologize. We should have been ready for anything." The bandit drops his knee to the stone.

"Enough of your petty supplication. I give you and your filth a chance at a new life, a new purpose other than to cause unmethodical, stupid, and arbitrary disturbances and you repay me by failing completely."

"I'm sorry sire!" the leader cries. "I will do better next time!"

"Failure is never an option."

"I know sire, but I thought that when I explained..."

I flick my wrist and snap his neck before another syllable drips from his orifice. His quick death was a gift. The adrenaline I feel from the kill is intoxicating and when the body falls to the ground with a thud, I smile. Useless. Just useless trash. The company of bandits scream and take off into the darkness, but they will not escape me. The thrill of the kill is too exciting to pass up. The darkness bounces them back to me with a twist of my hand. They lie in shambles on the stone, looking up with horror. Methodically, I snap their necks one by one, power surging through me with each kill. In seconds they lay dead and broken in a heap. All save for one. I have broken his leg so he cannot escape.

Soon the dead will serve a higher purpose, after the rats have had their fill of their flesh. Even now, the creatures smell the fresh catch and will emerge to take their fill any minute.

I hear the blood-curdling scream behind me that I was waiting for. My prisoner's vision has adjusted. I turn and slowly step towards her, reveling in her moment of terror, fear, and confusion. She was shivering at just a glance of my face, speechless to its impossible truth.

"You... You're..."

"Oh yes, little girl. The darkness isn't playing tricks on you, you haven't gone mad. What you see is the truth." She shakes her head, unable to accept the truth. Her chains rattle as she suddenly convulses, trying desperately to escape her bondage. She screams over and over for help, projecting her voice to the dark nothingness around her. The chains reverberate, filling the air with a climactic chorus as her death approaches ever closer. "Now now, I told you no one would hear you."

I stroke her cheek, now stained with a mix of blood, sweat, and tears. She will make a beautiful specimen. I unsheathe the dagger by my side and press the flat edge against her cheek. She winces as the cold blade caresses her skin. "You will now serve me, my dear. And don't think you have a choice in the matter, because in the next ten seconds, only one path is open to walk."

"Airato, please help me," she cries out. The sound of the Goddess's name sends me into a fit of laughter.

"Your goddess has no power here. No light exists in this place. The way is prepared my dear. Time for you to walk it." And with that, I plunge the dagger into her heart. Her cries fade away, leaving only the echoes that follow behind it. As her body goes limp, I release the dagger from her flesh and wipe it clean. I reach out and kiss her lips. With my affection, I fill her spirit with darkness.

"Welcome home, Gabryelle." Her eyes snap open and a smile streaks across her face. The transformation is nearly complete.

"How may I serve you master?" Her voice now longer reflects the questions of a young free-spirited girl. She only lives to serve me now.

I round the pillar and loosen the chains so she may step free. As the chains clang to the floor, she utters a moan of relief. "This man I have crippled has failed me," I say. "Failed in his duties. He will be your first kill. Only then will the transformation be complete."

She picks up the chains that once bound her and wraps them around her arms, leaving a three-foot section to dangle from her fingertips. She lunges forward, straddling the broken man across his waist. I watch over her shoulder and smile as the man's eyes widen. Taking her chains, she suffocates him, never looking away from her target. Her kill is intimate; she will make a fine weapon. As the last breath leaves his body, Gabryelle convulses. She laughs as her body twists in sweet agony. When at last she stops, she stands and smiles.

"I have never felt so alive."

"Good," I say. "Now, how do you feel about visiting an old friend?"

Chapter Six

"And four shall care for the world in my stead;

Four to share the responsibility,

But to profess as one.

They shall be the rock that refuses to withdraw

Against the forces of darkness."

\- Book of White, Ch. 8, Verses 41-42

Xela and Jerell arrived at Sol City's South Gate two days after departing from Eden. And they were certainly a sight for sore eyes. Leaving the forest behind meant that water was scarce. They had enough to drink, but bathing wasn't possible for two days. The open plain where the city stood bore no trees, stripping the comfort of shade away from them, leaving the hot sun to scorch down on their weary bodies. And an open plain meant a lack of cover, making them easy prey to bandits, highwaymen, and other hostile enemies. Battles were fought and won, but thankfully they hadn't encountered any of the Daemon's supernatural forces during the trip. Despite being alive, Xela knew she couldn't see the Four in her condition.

The outer wall of the city towered over them, its battle scars a testament to the warlords who had tried to take the city many times over, all failing in their endeavors and forced to give up their campaigns. The front gate was built with massive wooden doors framed by an incredible stone arch. All along the outer wall, sentries stood keeping watch over the plain. Any sign of erratic movement caught their eye and generally they engaged first and asked questions when examining the body. Within the outer wall stood an inner barrier, enhanced by magic, used as a primary defense against the magical and the supernatural.

Before her father's death, she had hoped to pilgrimage here some day, pray at the Temple of the One, and sit at a service conducted by the Four. But her intentions were different now. No longer did she will to be here, but now was contracted, even manipulated into coming. By reading between the lines of Signor Marquis's message, the Four had successfully lured her here.

Engraved at the top of the stone arch was Airato's insignia, like the one she had seen on Pontis's imposter. Below on the arch itself read, "May Airato bless all who enter here."

Two guards stood on duty at the gate's entrance, proud of their post and keeping an eye on anything and everything. Xela stepped up to the guard on the left and presented Marquis's letter. "I'm expected by the Signor." The guard closely inspected the parchment, spending time studying the Signor's handwriting and broken seal. He nodded. "We have been expecting your arrival for some time. You may enter." He tapped his spear into the ground twice and the door creaked open. The door opened only as far as Xela needed to enter and she stepped through the crack, followed closely by Jerell. Once they stepped through the door, it closed and locked into place. The two walked down a hallway lined with the same ashen stone as the outer wall, traveling inside the wall itself. At the end of the hall was the foyer.

The foyer was mystical, more spectacular than Xela had imagined. Behind the barren defense of the outer wall, this room glowed with the light of a thousand candles, all suspended in mid-air. In the very center of the room stood a peculiar stone statue of a woman in flowing robes, wrapping herself in a vortex comprised of the four elements: fire, earth, wind, and water. However, the elements that encompassed her were not made of stone as she was. They hovered around the stone in their natural forms, earth intertwining with water, and fire with air. Xela could reach out her hand and it would be burned by the fire or moistened by the water. The ceiling was black as night, the light from the candles unable to penetrate its darkness due to the immense height of the wall itself.

"This is a portion of the inner wall," Jerell stated as he gazed up at the empty ceiling. "If I am correct, it's some sort of nexus that connects with other points to keep the inner barrier connected as one. The wall is infused with magic so anything contained within is affected. I can feel it in my body." But Xela could feel nothing. She was schooled in all things physical: daggers, swords, and arrows. But not magic. She felt no connection to this place.

"Have you been to the city before?" Xela asked. "I just assumed you guarded the forest all your life."

Jerell smirked at her. "We Rangers are allowed to go where we please. The city very often doesn't require much protection because of the natural magic that shields its existence. Remember the portal you went through? Not anyone can conjure that entrance. You need us to open the way."

"So you have been here?"

"Yes, once."

"For what reason?"

"Business. Strictly business." Jerell's loose personality suddenly tightened like a knot, a clear sign he did not want to discuss his previous visit to the capital. Xela nodded, respecting his wishes. She took another look around the foyer and noticed no exit except from where they entered.

"So what do we do now?" Xela asked. "I don't see an exit."

"We wait. A concierge will arrive to deliver us to the Temple."

No sooner had Jerell finished his sentence did the wall opposite the hall rumble. A trace line of a door started forming on the empty wall, eventually manifesting into double doors. They swung open and light flooded in, forcing Xela to shield her eyes. Standing in the light was a plump woman, dressed in an outrageous outfit. Feathers, sequins, and glitter were nowhere absent from her garb, which Xela noticed as her eyes adjusted to the light, a long dress made of a bright yellow material. Her headpiece may have actually been an entire bird by the enormous clump of feathers billowing on her crown. She clicked into the room, the sound of her heels echoing off the walls. She did not appear happy.

"For Airato's sake!" she exclaimed. Her voice was very high pitched despite her hefty figure. Surely any dog near her would be in inexplicable pain by its sound. Xela had expected a deep, low toned voice coming from a woman her size. "I have been waiting for two days for you to arrive. You simply cannot keep a person waiting for so long."

The woman looked up and down at Xela and Jerell's appearance and did not seem impressed. "And look at you. Covered in filth. The beggars on the street wouldn't touch you." Xela kept her thoughts to herself. Calling this woman a fat shrieking hag upon their first meeting would not help matters.

"I apologize miss—"

"May. Razi May. I am the Four's executive auxillary."

_So she's an assistant,_ Xela thought.

"I would say please to meet you and shake your hand," Razi continued, "but I'm afraid I could catch something. Lord knows where that hand has been out there in the countryside. And who is your friend?" She tilted her head in Jerell's direction, studying him with her beady brown eyes. Her expression showed pure disgust as she forced herself a smile.

"I am Jerell, Miss May."

"Uh huh," she said, shooing him away with a flip of her hand. "Anyway, my job is done for now. These men will escort you to the Temple. But I implore you, for the love of Sol, wash up before meeting Signor Marquis. You must have some dignity left underneath all that dirt." She then turned and strutted in the opposite direction, shuddering one last sigh of disgust before leaving their sight.

_What a peach,_ Xela thought. She and Jerell boarded a small cart pulled by a pair of horses driven by a single guardsman. The Temple of the One was a massive structure, the tallest in all of Sol and even now the central steeple rose into the sky. The house of Airato stood in the center of the city, much like the tower in Eden stood. When the Temple was constructed, people from the entire continent traveled to pray within its walls. These pilgrims eventually stayed and made permanent homes, beginning the city's rise into the juggernaut civilization it became today. The Four not only stood as spiritual guides to Airato, but they governed the city's political policies as well. Their power was unmatched in the physical plane.

Xela's eyes began to droop and soon, thanks to smooth ride through the streets, she was asleep.

***

When Xela awoke, she lay on top of a bed in a large bedroom washed with white. Jerell probably brought her to the room himself, not wishing to wake her. More help she didn't need.

She slipped off the bed and looked out the large window. The view was breathtaking. Xela gazed over the east side of the city, from the bedroom window. She had been housed in an apartment above the temple proper, where the Four also resided in their individual suites. Extra apartments were there in cases like these where guests needed a place to rest for the night.

Fearing the hour was growing late, she quickly rushed into the washroom and began to bathe. The dirt she had accumulated from travel trickled away as the warm water hit her skin. She threw in a few tablets that were left in the washroom into the water. Immediately the room filled with the scent of vanilla and lavender. For a few minutes, Xela was overcome with tranquility and her worries melted away as she sank deeper into the tub. But soon the illusion wore off and she continued preparing for her meeting with the Four. No amount of vanilla or lavender could deter her from her errand.

She dressed in the white robes that she had packed away for this meeting. The garment was long and lined with golden thread, with long loose sleeves and a hood that pointed down from the crown of the wearer's head. She hoped to use it as a way of showing that she was no priestess but she still retained a sense of honor and respect to her superiors. She had played the part of warrior and now she must play her role as a loyal subject. She stepped outside her suite, noticed discarded clothes on the floor outside the adjacent door. Jerell was staying in the apartment directly next to hers. She knocked but no answer came. Perhaps he hadn't heard her. Again she knocked on the wooden door. No answer.

She stood staring, not knowing what to do. So Xela decided to wait. It was just a few minutes when the knob turned and Jerell stepped outside of the room, clutching his head in his palm.

"Are you alright?" Xela asked, concerned. Jerell managed a smile and nodded.

"Just a headache. It will pass. Let us make haste to your meeting." Xela didn't want to push the issue.

Xela and Jerell made their way to the central staircase, a long winding stairwell that climbed the height of the tower. The Four's viewing chamber sat upon the apex of the structure, governing the city from their heavenly perch. The suites Xela and Jerell were temporarily residing in were only halfway up the tower. The two guests looked up the endless staircase equally in amazement and dismay.

"Well, I suppose we better start walking," Xela sighed.

"Now now please don't be doing that!" A small man stepped out from a nook in the staircase. He was dressed in small red overalls, a crooked hat, and had a long beard that touched the floor. "You wouldn't take a job away from a hard and dedicated worker would you?" The man was half the size of Xela with his crooked hat. She had never met a man so small and he just smiled up at her, not responding to her stunned face.

"You have never met a gnome have you miss?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. He seemed to revel in the fact that he made Xela uncomfortable. Xela felt her muscles tighten.

"No, I haven't," she said, still taken aback. "I'm sorry to appear so shocked."

"Don't mention it little miss. You aren't the first person to gawk at me upon first meeting. Now let's see about getting you two up to the top."

"How do we do that?" Jerell asked.

The gnome waved his hand, beckoning the two to follow him as he lead them to a large circle cut out in the middle of the floor. "This is a little invention of mine I created especially for this tower. No use climbing hundreds of stairs when you don't have to. I call it the Levitator."

"How does it work?" Jerell said, walking over to the platform, examining it closely.

"A combination of pressure and air," the gnome stated. "Beneath this platform I have installed a series of what I call "vents" that gather air underneath the platform and trap it. When enough air is built up, the air is released all at once and the pressure forces the platform to shoot to the top. Ingenious is it not?" He smiled, proud of his handiwork. "The air is controlled by a small group of mages using the power of wind. Once I give the signal, they will send the air beneath the platform. Come come, step on."

The little man gently pushed Xela and Jerell on the platform. It was a small platform so the two of them were forced to stand back to back in order to fit. They glanced above them and saw every ceiling above had the same shape cut out from its foundation. The gnome stepped away and clapped twice. Xela flinched in anticipation, expecting to shoot into the air, but nothing happened.

"Don't worry you two. Air just has to build up remember?" The gnome passed back and forth, counting every second that passed. At 15 he stopped counting. "By the way, I may have forgotten to mention I have never tested this with actual live bodies."

Xela's eyes widened in a combination of fear and anger.

"What?" she said, her temper beginning to flare up. She held her position though every fiber in her body was telling to her to get off the platform.

"Yes, you are the first ones to physically try it out. I've been using sacks of potatoes to stand in for the substituted weight. You should be honored. But if the platform threatens to crush you into the ceiling, I suggest you jump off. The potatoes certainly didn't and they ended up in the stew later that night. Have fun!"

"Why you—" Xela exclaimed. But that was all she was able to get out before the platform suddenly shot from beneath them, propelling them swiftly toward the top. Xela and Jerell kept an eye on the approaching ceiling as it moved closer and closer. They were rising so fast Xela's eyes began to water. Her breath escaped her. She wondered if this was what flying felt like. She didn't like it. _If we don't get crushed, I'm going to kill that gnome, she screamed to herself._

The device slowed and stopped perfectly on the top floor, clicking into place with the ceiling still well above their heads. Xela's knees buckled and she scrambled off the platform, taking in a deep breath as soon as she was sure she was on unmoving ground. Her heart was beating fast and she took in slower breaths to slow it back down. She would have enjoyed the rush if there were not a possibility of being squashed like insects. Jerell seemed unfazed by the ride, walking over to her and extending his hand.

"Gnomes," he said. "Tricky little creatures. Brilliant minds and sly personalities make a deadly combination." He smiled.

"Thanks for the warning," Xela said as Jerell lifted her from the floor. "He's lucky I don't go back down there and hang him by his beard."

"Well at least we made it up here."

"Very true. The Four must be through those doors." Xela pointed to a set of large ivory doors. In the middle was an iron knocker and Xela used it three times. The knocks echoed and the doors glided open. Xela stepped through first to find the Four waiting for her. They sat in a semi circle of raised platforms behind one extended lectern. The Four seemed like gods themselves sitting on their pedestals.

She recognized the Signor second from the left immediately. Signor Marquis was a man of middle age with a heavy brow that couldn't hide his judgment. He smiled at her with overly large teeth and gestured for her to enter.

"Xela of Laedon," Marquis began, "it is good to see you. Again, I am sorry to hear of your father's death. He was a good friend and a better man. I wish I could have been there to perform the funeral rites." Marquis quickly shot a fleeting glance to Jerell, who stood silently behind Xela's left shoulder.

"Thank you Signor," Xela said, bowing as custom demanded. Her father and Signor Marquis had been close friends since childhood but somehow he wasn't able to find time to attend an old friend's funeral.

"I am sure you are wondering why we have called you here," said the Signor all the way on the right. It was a woman's voice, the voice of Signor Avela. Her face was stern, squeezed together tightly between her brow and mouth. Her green eyes opened wide in observation. "It seems you are key to whatever the Daemon is scheming. We have sources that tell us the Daemon is planning a major attack on our city." Xela figured as much. The Daemon was intent on destroying Airato and her followers and he had made those intentions quite clear.

"But the city is impenetrable," Xela pointed out. "The defense this city has at its disposal has thwarted enemies time and time again."

"This is true," the Signor from the farthest left commented. It was Signor Cerena, an older woman whose voice imitated her small frame. She was once revered as a formidable archer with the eyes of a hawk. Now, they drooped sadly upon her face, giving no reference to her previous accomplishments. "However, with his power growing we don't want to take any chances."

"An assessment of his powers indicates he has dominion over the dead," Avela said. "He is able to bring the dead back to life and command them to perform his will. This also means he is able to manipulate supernatural beings such as spirits and ghosts to do his bidding. He is a necromancer. A powerful one."

"Banshees," Xela said. "I was attacked by three on my journey here. This provides more proof that the Daemon is searching for me."

"I see," Avela said, seemingly unsurprised. "You are very lucky. I can assume by the presence of your new companion that Pontis is no longer with us?"

"Yes Signor. Bandits working for the Daemon killed him on his errand. Their leader impersonated Pontis and delivered your message to me to lure me out from my village."

"Damn, he was a good man," Avela sighed. She lowered her head in prayer.

"I don't understand what any of this has to do with me," Xela said. "I am not a woman of the cloth. Why would I have an interest in this war between you and the Daemon?" She glared at Marquis, who didn't flinch from her eyes.

"We have sources that believe to have uncovered the identity of the Daemon," the Signor the farthest right interjected. He was Signor Korbal, the youngest of the Four. He was strikingly handsome, his chiseled face harvesting beautiful blue eyes framed by a shaved head. "For years he has hidden in the shadows, but we have finally shed light on his face."

"It is this piece of information that I knew you would wish to hear," Marquis said.

Xela stood stiff as a board. Her blood rushed with anticipation of knowing the Daemon's name. Marquis folded his hands on the lectern and leaned forward. In the pit of her stomach, Xela felt she already knew the name Marquis would spit from his mouth. It made sense from the way the message was worded down to the depth of information the Four were sharing with her.

"All of our intel suggests the identity of the Daemon is—"

"My brother Fael."

***

"How did you come across this information Signors," Xela asked. Her fist was clenched so tightly Jerell thought she might break a bone. He raised his eyebrow at the insightful information revealed. _So,_ he thought. _Xela's brother is the Daemon. Now I understand why the Four wanted her to have a stake in this fight._

Jerell stood quietly to the side observing the great council that governed the continent of Sol; at least the parts of the continent known to man. Their reach didn't extend past Eden's borders. The Four were of mixed age, but all seemed of intellectual mind. The concern weighing on their brows would make a normal person crumble.

Signor Marquis seemed just as concerned with Jerell's presence as the crisis they were being presented with. Signor Marquis continued to eye him from his lectern with his dark beady brown eyes. He didn't trust Jerell and Marquis didn't care whether the Ranger knew it or not. Jerell tried his best to avoid his gaze and focus on Xela.

"We have managed to infiltrate the ranks of the Daemon," Avela said. "One of our spies risked his life to bring us back Fael's name."

"I want you to know that my brother's involvement will not affect my performance in this mission. In fact, his association only strengthens my resolve to see this threat snuffed out."

"We expect no less Xela," Marquis responded. "I had hoped your personal connections in this crisis would allow you to look beyond our past... disagreements. It seems my faith was well placed. We called you here because we believe we have a way to cripple the Daemon's power."

"Then tell me what I must do." Jerell studied Xela closely. Her body remained stiff and she was struggling to keep her voice from projecting too much emotion. If the Four were anything like Terra, they would not accept emotional anarchy in the completion of a task. Blind aggression was just as much a weakness as cowardice.

"The Daemon is looking for something," Korbal said. "For some reason, he wants you, requires you. But we are having problems deciphering why. Our spies have not supplied any information that explains his reasoning. However, they were able to tell us that you are not the only thing he requires."

"What else does he need?" Xela said.

"A Grimoire that will amplify his power even further, a power which is already a formidable force. We must retrieve the book before he does."

Jerell stepped forward. He could be silent no more. "Signors, shouldn't we instead be searching for the Daemon's whereabouts? He has been on the offensive for too long and it's about time we conducted a strike of our own. Xela knows him well and we may be able to take the fight to him."

"You dare speak out of turn you unbeliever?" Marquis snapped as he rose from his seat. "Don't you think we have pondered that theory? A strike would never be possible. The Daemon is thought to live in a dark labyrinth where no light can reach, a labyrinth whose location remains a mystery. And we do not know how big of a force he has at his beck and call. It would be suicide to attempt an attack."

Marquis slowly lowered himself back into his seat, his eyes fixated on Jerell, who did not back away from the Signor's stare. "Know your place, stranger. Yes, you delivered Xela to us safely. And we thank you for your service. But you have not earned my trust yet. You are an unbeliever, so by default, your presence in the current situation is perplexing. Tell me, Jerell is it, what do you have to gain by aiding our heroine in her quest?"

"Let's not be hasty Marquis," Cerena intervened. "I believe Jerell has proven his loyalty. Maybe not to Airato, but to Xela. I do not worry for her safety if he journeys by her side." Cerena's comment did nothing to soothe Marquis's pre-determined notions about Jerell. His face twisted farther as if Cerena too had spoken out of turn.

"I have no ulterior motive Signor," Jerell responded, a quiet anger repressed under a solemn honesty. "I just wish to see Xela safe."

Marquis's gaze never left Jerell's as Korbal continued to explain the situation. "Xela, after you are in possession of the Grimoire, you must swiftly return here. The book cannot be destroyed by conventional means. Only we have the means to strip the book of its magic and destroy it." Korbal waved his right hand and a map of the continent appeared in the center of the room, a faint light signifying a specific geological location. The marker pointed to a village tucked in the mountains to the west, a three days journey from the city.

"The mountain village Dyad," Avela said. "This is your destination. To travel there, you must go west across the plain and follow the path through the mountains. The villagers there must not know you have come from here, for they may greet you with weapons instead of hospitality."

"Understood Signors," Xela responded. "I will not fail you."

"We realize this task is enormous to take on by yourselves," Cerena admitted. She was known to be the kindest of the Four and had proven so during the length of the meeting. "We are assigning two of our best mages to accompany you. They will meet you at the West Gate tomorrow morning. For now, get some rest. See the city."

Marquis loosened his gaze from Jerell and turned his attention to Xela. The harshness that he showed Jerell instantly softened for her. The man was aging rapidly, the crushing responsibility of being a leader weighing heavily upon him. "I will pray for your success Xela. May Airato guide you."

Xela bowed graciously and left, Jerell following closely behind. Xela walked briskly down the stairs, beginning the long descent back to the ground floor. "How could I possibly see the city?" Xela mumbled, just loud enough for Jerell to hear. "I need to train. I need to focus."

"Xela," Jerell said, "perhaps you should follow the Signor's advice and rest."

Xela stopped short and glared at Jerell for two seconds before continuing her purposeful stride. "There is no time to rest. If I am the least bit unprepared, Fael will secure his victory."

"Then spar with me. But if I am the victor, you will rest as instructed."

"And if I defeat you, I will train for a duration until I feel I am better prepared."

"Deal."

***

Xela stood in the sparring ring holding two practice daggers in her hands. In order to keep injuries from recurring, all practice weapons were carved from wood and enhanced with magic. The weapons were unable to break and if contact was made, a small shock would sting the opponent instead of drawing blood.

Xela had changed from her white robes into brown robes more suitable for fighting. Jerell hadn't changed at all and found a practice staff, whirling the pole over his head and back to his side, obviously testing its weight.

"Rules of engagement?" Xela asked.

"Pin the opponent to win," Jerell said. He tapped his staff on the ground. "Ready when you are."

Xela nodded. Breaking into a sprint, she focused on Jerell's legs. When she was upon him, she slid to the ground to slip through his legs. With her right hand, she jabbed at Jerell's leg, hoping to connect a blow to the side of his knee in order to send him crippling to the ground.

Jerell dived forward into a somersault, landing too far out of Xela's reach. As he regained his balance, he jabbed his staff down into Xela's ankle. A small spark left the staff and Xela's leg twitched at the electricity that connected with her flesh. Leaping back to her feet, she thrust her daggers forward. Even she admitted it was a desperate move. Jerell's reflexes caught her off-guard. Jerell easily sidestepped, jabbing her shoulder as he stepped. The shock seemed stronger than the last, sending a wave of pain through her arm.

"Stop playing games," Xela said.

Jerell smiled back. "You're exhausted. And I'm too quick."

Xela jumped up and swiped with both daggers, forcing Jerell to back away. She broke out of the pattern and thrust forward, hoping to surprise Jerell with a strike to his chest. But as her arm extended, Jerell misdirected her momentum, tapping her with his staff, shocking her lower back and sending her to the floor. As the pain ebbed away, Jerell stood over her, the tip of his rod inches from her cheek.

"May I offer you surrender?"

Xela used her forearm to swipe the staff away and with a quick roll to the right, she was on her feet. She slashed with her left arm and connected to Jerell's abdomen. He stumbled backwards as a shock surely ripped through his torso. She decided to give him no chance to recover. She charged him headfirst, aiming for a strike on his side. As she was about to strike, her feet left the floor.

Jerell had swept her with his staff, and in a hard thud she was on the floor. Jerell stood over her again, but this time put his boot in her throat. He was right. She was too exhausted.

"Fine," she said. "We'll have it your way."

***

Xela was appalled by the culture of the denizens of Sol City. Those who lived closest to the Temple were the wealthiest of the wealthy, walking around with jewels on their nails and lines of gold woven in their hair. All of them wore robes of flowing fabrics and hats that were styled beyond outrageousness. Razi May and her yellow peacock number would fit in perfectly. Amongst the outlandish, seemingly crazy garb she saw, she and Jerell looked the most eccentric in their single color clothes.

The buildings belonging to the wealthy blurred the line between homes and palaces. The structures towered several stories high, as if trying desperately to imitate the Temple itself. They were built using high-grade materials, each family trying to outdo one another. Xela could not imagine herself living in a home so large all the time. She preferred the humble space of her hut back in Laedon.

As the Temple's tower grew farther away, they entered the marketplace, a thriving square where the middle class used their hard earned money for anything they desired. Meat, fruit, jewels, clothing, animals, toys and a multitude of other items were for sale in the crowded bazaar. The only items prohibited for sale were weapons. Having possession of a weapon of any kind in the city required special permission and a fee was involved. Weapons were meant for survival, not for play or sport. But like any marketplace, one could find these illegal products in back alleys or basements out of sight from the city guard.

The marketplace whirled with madness as men and women bustled around getting what they came for. Vendors called out their items, attempting to coax the buyers over to their stand, where they would inevitably lay down the coin for whatever they were being pitched. The people pushed and shoved to make a path through. It made her village's square look like child's play.

"Follow me." They maneuvered through the buzzing of the marketplace, squeezing themselves into every opening they could find, and quickly continued through to the middle district of the city. Xela felt much more in tune with the people here. The dress was simple, the houses were a more manageable size, and the people seemed happy with their lives without trying to outshine one another. Families shared a hello as Xela and Jerell walked by instead of sniveling at the way she dressed. This was a community.

Dusk was setting in when the gardens came into sight. A special section of the middle district had been set aside for the gardens and it was beautiful. Stone archways stood tall, blending in ceremonious harmony with the flora. Vines hugged the stone pillars, locked in a clasped embrace. Flowers bloomed from every crevice, and a small waterfall stood watch over the scene, a thin mist hanging in the air. It was a magnificent sanctuary in what would be a barren stone jungle.

"Hold on tight," Jerell said. Xela watched as a vine descended from an archway and wrapped itself around them like a rope. She wrapped her arms around his waist, readying to be lifted. Her feet left the ground, startling her for a moment, but soon she embraced the feeling of floating. It was intimidating, letting Jerell take control of her, allowing him to hold her life in his hands. But only for a moment. The vine lifted them up to the archway overhead and placed them firmly on the ground. The archway stood thirty feet off the ground and held its place on the edge of the gardens. Xela disconnected from Jerell as soon as she felt solid.

"It's beautiful," she said. His eyes slowly dimmed back to their radiant blue color from the powerful green she had grown accustomed to seeing. He smiled and sat down on the stone, looking out at the sunset.

"Perfect timing," he said. Xela sat next to him and for minutes they stared at the sun dipping below the wall without a word. Where Xela's father taught her how to fight and survive, her mother taught her how to appreciate the beauty of moments such as these. A perfect sunset was a fleeting moment in time, a watercolor painting soon to dissolve.

"Marquis doesn't trust me," Jerell said, shattering the silence.

"I know," she replied. "He will learn to trust you."

"I hope so. Trust must be earned and I hope to do just that."

"Jerell, tell me about you. My time in Eden was short and I know nothing about you besides the fact that you are a Ranger and you saved my life."

"Terra didn't tell you anything else?"

_Should I tell him?_ Xela thought. She didn't know whether she should keep it to herself. But Terra spoke so openly about Jerell's powers. She needed Jerell to trust her if they were going to be working together. "Terra told me you were a Druid."

Jerell appeared unfazed by the truth, forming a hint of a smile. He must have already known the answer before he asked. _Good,_ Xela thought.

"How much do you know about my ancestry?" he asked.

"Honestly, not much. The study of supernatural phenomena is actually forbidden amongst Airato's people. My father used to tell me stories about demons, ghosts, but nothing about Druids. Before I met you, I thought all of those things were just stories."

"Xela, to be clear, I'm not a true Druid. The Druid line died millennia ago. I am merely a descendant of them. Their blood is mine. But the Druids were able to interact with nature, beyond what normal humans are capable of."

"But if you aren't one, how can you move the earth? How can you command the plants to your will?"

"We call it the Spirit," Jerell said, lowering his tone but leaning closer to her. "It's a culmination of all the powers of my ancestors molded into an entity that exists within me. That is what controls my powers. The headache I had earlier is a symptom of the Spirit's presence, an aftershock after an earthquake in a manner of speaking."

"Why use your abilities if they cause you pain?" The powers Xela had witnessed in the forest were incredible and the aftershock he must have felt after those incredible feats must have been severe. And he had been using his powers consistently ever since they left Eden. Was he simply hiding his pain even now in order to not burden her with his troubles?

"I can use my powers and function perfectly. If I over exude myself, then I reap the rewards of my actions. But things like this will give me no pain." Jerell reached over and snatched up a stem cast aside. He glowed once again and before her eyes, the stem blossomed into a magnificent flower with a golden center and alternating blue and white petals. She had never seen such a flower before. Jerell placed it gently in her hand.

"This is Gaia's Grace," he said as the flower's scent overran her nostrils. It smelled sweet, bringing a sense of calm to her body. "It's my favorite flower and I think it is the most beautiful of them all." Jerell took her hand and lifted her from the stone and kissed her lightly on the lips. The act left her speechless, short of breath, and blushing. "Come Xela, let us get back to the Temple. We leave at dawn."

The entire walk back to their quarters was in complete silence. The tension was heavy and Xela could find no words to alleviate the weight. Jerell was kind, but it was too soon. Raynor's body was cold but his memory still warmed her blood. She clutched the Gaia's Grace to her chest for a time until she let her arms fall to her sides. Loosening her fingers, she let the flower fall to the dirt.

Chapter Seven

"Lay no harm against any manner of creatures

That calls Gaia home,

For when her children die,

She remembers."

\- 1st Precept of Gaia as spoken by Terra

Just when the morning couldn't become any more unbearable, Razi May greeted Xela and Jerell at the West Gate, the departure point for their mission. Thinking there was no way to top her previously outrageous outfit, Xela was in no way prepared for the monstrosity before her. Razi donned an indigo dress that accentuated a womanly figure to the point of hyperbole by way of conspicuous padding around her breasts, hips and behind. The dress was covered in sequins, all catching the sun's rays and reflecting them directly into Xela's face, and the feathers on her backside stood straight up at attention. Her headpiece was a prism of glass that also did a wonderfully annoying job of sparkling in the sun.

"Good morning," Razi said. Xela had never been a morning person and the fact that Razi was so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed annoyed her. "Well I'm glad we meet under improved circumstances. You look clean and somewhat attractive this morning. Thank Airato." She gave Xela a small curtsy.

"Good morning," Jerell said with a small bow. Xela nodded, finding the small token of greeting more than enough for the hour. Razi half-smiled at Jerell. Apparently she shared the same close-minded sentiment as Marquis. Jerell was an unbeliever and thus was barely worthy of her time. But somehow Xela, a woman who refused the priesthood and in her own way renounced Airato, was acceptable enough. At least until she could no longer provide a service the Four desperately needed.

"I want you to meet the mages accompanying you." Razi strafed to the side to reveal two teenage twins, a boy and a girl standing side by side. Though not perfectly identical, their relation to each other was obvious, each one having the same straight brown hair, blue eyes, and mouth. The girl wore a short red robe with cotton pants and wore no visible weapons. The boy wore a full-length white robe similar to the robes of the Four with four daggers strapped to the belt around his waist.

"Thank Airato you finally got here," the girl said. "If I had to last one more second with her and her feathers I would have to burn the city down."

"I beg your pardon!" Razi screeched. Her cheeks wobbled as her mouth fell open. "I will have you know this is a designer dress, hand-sewn by the designer himself. His blood, sweat, and tears are literally soaked in this very fabric."

"Sounds disgusting," the girl said. Razi's mouth remained agape for so long that Xela was sure the woman's jaw had become unhinged. Quickly, the boy nudged the girl, seemingly embarrassed by her comments.

"Em, I can't believe you just said that."

"Who cares?" the girl retaliated back. "She's been nothing but rude to us all morning. Besides, I wasn't lying. The dress is awful."

"That is no excuse to be disrespectful," the boy scolded of his sister.

"Boy I'd like to shove that prism right up her..."

"That's enough!" He looked in Xela and Jerell's direction. "I'm so sorry for my sister's outburst. She can be extremely grumpy in the morning."

_I know the feeling,_ Xela thought. _Glad I'm not the only one that has to suffer with Razi._ Brushing off the number of insults the girl threw at her, Razi presented the twins before Xela with a flick of her hand and a forced smile. "Xela, meet Em and Hale. They will accompany you on your mission."

"You can't be serious," Xela said. Besides being annoyed in the morning, she liked joking even less. "They are merely teenagers. These can't be the mages the Four promised us." Razi shrugged and strutted away from the group, holding post off to the side.

Em, who had already demonstrated a fiery temper, pushed away from her brother and walked right up to Xela's face, fuming and breathing heavy.

"Just a teenager huh?" She turned to face Razi and pushed her palm in Razi's direction. An icicle flew from her palm, or merely materialized out of thin air, and shot through the prism atop Razi's head, shattering the glass into hundreds of pieces. Razi screamed and frantically threw the rest of headpiece on the ground, running off without looking back. Xela couldn't help but let a small smile slip to her lips, for this seemingly harmless teenage girl single-handedly sent away the most annoying woman she ever met. _Perhaps she isn't so bad,_ Xela thought. Em turned back to Xela, satisfied with her work. "Enough said." Xela nodded in agreement.

The boy walked forward and extended his hand. "Again, I apologize. My sister has a temper to begin with and her magic intensifies her emotions even more. I am Hale. Pleasure to meet you, Xela." He extended his hand and Xela took it.

"So Hale," Jerell began, "what is it that you can do?"

"I am quite proficient with the healing arts, but I find telekinesis to be my most formidable ability."

"Can you show me?" Xela said. Hale flicked his wrist and Xela's daggers levitated from their sheathes. Hale swept his hand to the West Gate itself and the daggers flew, startling the guards on duty as the blades hovered inches from their faces. Hale brought his hand back to Xela and the daggers flew back, the blades stopping inches from her face. She grabbed the daggers and returned them back into her belt. "Nice work," Xela commended. "Em, what else can you do besides breaking glass with ice?"

"I could set your hair ablaze," she said. "I work well with water and fire. The fact that I can use two elements is rare. The potential to use all four is unheard of, so until then I'm the best you got."

Xela nodded. _Great,_ she thought. _Talented and arrogant to boot._ The Four had provided them with strong allies indeed; where they lacked in height they made up with power. Xela only hoped their combined talents would be enough to accomplish their mission.

"Shall we get going?" Jerell said. "Dyad is a good two days ride from here." Xela nodded and the four of them walked through the West Gate, greeted by four horses including Nestor. They mounted the horses and off they went.

***

As the high noon sun ripped the shadows from the city, the spy surfaced back to the upper world through the grate located behind the middle district's inn. The sun stung his eyes, a testimony to his time spent in the dark. Though his eyes had not fully adjusted, he strode to the assigned meeting place with his forearm over his eyes. The Sleeper would be waiting impatiently for the spy's arrival.

The marketplace buzzed as the spy slipped into a back alley behind the produce stand. A lone figure in a white hooded cloak leaned against the stonewall, head slightly tilted down to avoid any light revealing their face.

"You are late," the Sleeper said. "The Daemon does not tolerate tardiness. So why would I?"

"I apologize," the spy said. "My master is anxious to hear your report."

Leaning in closer, the Sleeper spoke barely above a whisper. "The Daemon was right. Her brother's identity was revealed and she couldn't help herself but accept her charge. Xela has departed from the city toward Dyad."

"My master will be pleased. He has sent a surprise to meet Xela and should that fail, another course of action will be taken at the village itself. No matter what, my master will attain the Grimoire."

The Sleeper pulled away. "My colleagues will wonder why I have taken so long. They will grow suspicious should I remain any longer. The illusion remains intact however. They believe they have a spy in the Daemon's ranks while it is quite the opposite. Everything is falling into place as the Daemon predicted."

The spy laughed under his breath. "Then I shall be off. Tread cautiously."

"You as well." With a bow, the Sleeper marked a path back to the Temple as the spy navigated back to the hole from where he had surfaced and descended back into darkness.

***

Em and Hale were excellent riders. They had clearly been trained by teachers with a mastery of many skills. They were lucky. Enemies will underestimate them merely because of their age. Xela did at first, but after witnessing what abilities they possess, she would not make that miscalculation again. Thanks to their abilities, they were able to keep up a much steadier pace on the journey.

The entire first day would be spent riding over the plains. The grassy flatlands were a large expanse of terrain that seemed endless, but thankfully the ride was smooth. Jerell lead the pack in the front with Xela following closely behind while the twins guarded the rear. They needed to be ready in case of any attack. And the possibility was high. Though she had made it to Sol City alive and aware of her mission, the Daemon still needed Xela for something. And even the Four didn't know why. The Daemon would not give up so easily in attaining his prize. Xela just wished that the prize wasn't her.

The ride gave Xela the chance to think through the events of the previous day. Her feelings were as they were. Jerell affected her in a way that no man had since Raynor was forcibly removed from her life. For some reason, he had taken on the task of protecting her without any stake in doing so, putting his life at risk for someone he has known for a brief time. But though Raynor lay buried, she couldn't help feeling that any desires she may have would betray the love she had for him.

When dusk arrived, the travelers reached the end of the plains where a legion of trees greeted them. The day had gone smoothly, lacking any confrontation with the Daemon's forces or any unforeseeable stops. Xela let Nestor loose and spearheaded the act of setting up camp. Xela went in search of water while Jerell found firewood and the twins stayed to guard their belongings. Thankfully a stream was close by and Xela filled the canteens to the brim. She returned quickly to find a fierce fire burning and her three companions cooking dinner. At least she knew that she would not be ambushed around this campfire.

"Found water," Xela said, holding up the canteens. "And I see you have the rest under control."

Jerell smiled and motioned for her to sit. "Dinner is ready Xela. Come sit." She did so and began to eat. After a few minutes, the sounds of chomping and swallowing slowed and Hale looked up at Xela with a curiosity that could only be found in the eyes of a youth.

"Xela, how do we get to Dyad exactly?" he asked inquisitively. "Em and I have never seen beyond the city walls until now. We've studied maps of Sol, but traveling the continent is incredibly different."

"Well today we crossed over the plains," Xela began. "From here the grassy plains will shift to a dense forest, much like the one near my village. After that, we climb Caelin's Pass that cuts through the Ivory Mountains and Dyad lies just beyond that path." She did all this by tracing a path in a small patch of dirt using her dagger. "But enough about the mission," she said as she brushed away the drawn path. "Tell me about yourselves. You've really never left the city walls?"

Hale shook his head. "We have been under close watch ever since we were babies. Our talents manifested early, displaying telltale signs of kindling power. So we have been training ever since, never setting foot outside the city walls, only reading of the lands beyond the stone and honing our abilities. I dreamed of the day my mentors would let me witness the wonders of the world for myself."

"You are very well spoken for a teenager," Xela commented, impressed with the way Hale spoke so easily. "What about you Em?" she asked. "Were you as eager to see the world outside of Sol City?"

Em scowled at the suggestion, choosing to keep her focus on the campfire and away from Xela's face. "Just because we were assigned to you doesn't mean we have to get to know you." The embers of the fire dimmed and brightened in an alternating pattern as she spoke, her gaze never leaving the flames. "You know what we are capable of in terms of our talents and that is all that matters. Don't expect me to get all in depth and emotional talking about our lives."

"Oh but please," Hale piped in, "let us watch as you make the fire dimmer and brighter because that is so much more interesting. What a fancy trick."

Em stood up, stomping her feet as she ignited the fire to a fierce burning. "I'll show you a fancy trick." In an instant, Em conjured a fireball in her hand, giving Hale cause to retaliate by levitating a nearby rock next to her head. Xela jumped from the ground, put herself between the two siblings and held her hands out, though she knew she could do little to stop them if they attacked each other. The two were already squabbling and they hadn't even been on the road a full day.

"Stop!" she said. The twins instantly yielded, extinguishing fires and dropping boulders. "We are bringing unwanted attention to our camp. How easily you have forgotten how lucky we have been thus far. Put your pride behind you now before it gets you both killed."

Jerell sat calmly, still eating his dinner. Xela didn't understand how he was acting so relaxed. Did he ever get uptight or nervous?

"You two are powerful allies," Jerell said. "We can't afford to lose either of you. Don't let your powers control you. You control them." All quarreling ceased for the rest of the evening and the travelers quickly chose sleep, making arrangements for who would stay on the nightly watch. Jerell took the first, Xela second, and the twins last. The morning thankfully came without incident.

Upon the rising of the sun, the company packed up camp and set off again. A thick forest lay ahead of them so Jerell led the group forward, following the path o the stream Xela had seen before. Even though he wasn't familiar with their sylvan surroundings, he was the best choice regardless. The forest was so thick the sun was only able to peer through a ragged blanket of foliage. Thanks to this, the forest kept cool so the traveling was more bearable for the travelers and their horses. Xela kept her focus forward, observing all of their surroundings, looking for any signs of danger. The forest floor was home to a host of critters that posed no threat to the travelers, most of them skittering away upon the company's approach. For the first half of the day, no danger came their way.

The lack of confrontation made Xela anxious.

Around midday, the stream formed a small pond amidst a border of brush. "We need to break here for awhile," Jerell said. "Once we are ready, we will head on through." The company dismounted and sat near the pond. Em dunked her feet in and played with the water using her magic, making shapes and patterns with the droplets she manipulated. Hale sat meditating, eyes closed but mind open to his surroundings as his body left the ground completely, hovering above the soft dirt. Xela was left with nothing but her thoughts. Time with herself meant more mental anguish, constantly worrying the consequences should they fail and why she remained so important in the grand scheme of a terrorist.

A roar ripped through the forest after a few minutes of tranquility. Xela jumped to her feet bow in hand. Her first thought was that it was a group of banshees again. But it couldn't have been. This cry was low, beastly, and gritty sounding. But an even worse thought struck her. What was it? This journey had been too easy thus far.

"What was that?" she asked, turning toward Jerell, who stood contemplating what manner of beast this was. Again, the beastly cry sounded through the air and Jerell's eyes opened wide with revelation. The answer to Xela's question was not a pleasant one.

"We have to go," he said. "Now!"

The four travelers jumped on their steeds and took off into the forest with haste. Despite their incredible speed, the roaring sounded louder with each cry. And they were not the only ones fleeing. Birds flying overhead darted away from the terrible threat. All manner of creatures of the forest that were visible quickly dove into hiding or continued to run away, scattering in every direction.

"What the hell is it?" Xela repeated to Jerell.

"You don't wanna know. Just know we have to get out of here." The roar echoed through the trees again and Xela felt like the beast was directly behind her. Her heart was beating fast, adrenaline pumping through her body. Over the sound of Nestor's hooves was another sound, the sound of heavy feet pounding into the earth, its strides longer and much heavier than her trusted steed's.

"Well whatever it is," Xela said, "it's getting closer."

"I'll deal with it," Em said. She conjured a fireball, the flames dancing in her hand as the air whipped about.

"No," Jerell exclaimed. "You will not harm this forest."

Em put out her flame by closing her fist. The frustration in her eyes transferred to her tongue. "Well we have to do something."

And that's when Xela spotted the beast. It bounded around a tree, baring its fangs with a mighty roar. It was a lion, but none she had seen before. Its fur was clay red and every fiber on its body appeared to be as sharp as knives and the horn sitting in the center of its forehead seemed to be making aim for Xela. The beast's paws were twice the size of Xela's head and could easily bring down one of the horses with a single swipe.

They needed to put distance between them or they would not survive. "I'll slow him down." Xela cried. Keeping steady on Nestor, she twisted her body around, readied her bow and made aim. Her arrow flew, its course plotted toward the beast's neck. But the lion swiped the incoming weapon aside to the forest floor with one of its paws, maintaining its velocity. Xela sent another arrow, only to have it blocked again. She would not waste another.

"Let's try it my way," Em said. Choosing to use water instead, she summoned the water from the foliage around her. Tiny beads of moisture collected into a whip of sorts, coiling around her body like a snake. With a flick of her wrist, the whip snapped at the beast, hitting it square on the nose. The beast recoiled slightly, but quickly regained its blistering momentum. Em snapped the whip again, lashing the beast on one of its forelegs. The lion roared in pain, stopping short but again continuing its pursuit.

"I think I just made him more angry," Em said. " I can keep him at bay but I won't be able to stop him. We need a plan."

"I have an idea," Hale said. "We can trap it! Follow my lead!"

Hale grabbed his four daggers with his mind and sent the blades straight for the beast. As he anticipated, the lion swiped one dagger aside. But Hale routed the others out of the animal's reach and dug them into the lion's side. The beast stopped but it would not be long until it managed to retract the blades from its hide. "Quick Jerell, use the vines." Jerell glowed brightly, summoning the Spirit to him. The vines around the lion rose to life, swiftly wrapping around the lion's body, pinning the beast to the ground. Em followed up by dousing the lion in water. Once the beast had been efficiently soaked, she tightened her hand into a fist and the water solidified into a thick sheet of ice, effectively stopping the beast's struggles.

The company turned their horses around and made way over to the trapped lion. Xela grabbed Hale's daggers and took them back one by one, causing the lion to roar in pain with each action. Once the final blade had been removed, the lion emitted a high-pitched whimper, sounding like no more than a cry for help from a house cat. Jerell gently pushed Xela aside and stood before the beast. Even in a subdued state, Xela felt the intimidation coming from the lion, its size towering over the travelers. But Jerell exhibited no fear as he reached his hand and gently touched the lion's snout. The lion growled at first but gave in to Jerell's touch.

"Great beast," Jerell said as his eyes glowed dimly. "Rest now. Be free from this pain." The beast slowly closed its large eyes, giving up fighting its entrapment and fell asleep. Jerell turned to the company, who stood in awe of his taming of the bloodthirsty beast. "A blood lion. We invaded his territory and it merely followed its protective instincts. I did not want to kill the animal. But we should go. We don't know what else the forest holds in store for us."

Escaping the forest was swift. The blood lion had chased them nearly out of its domain, but thankfully they were alive. Once they emerged from the trees of the forest, the sun would be setting in a few hours, over the mountain range that loomed over the travelers. The Ivory Mountains stood as the last barrier between them and Dyad, the location of the Grimoire. A chill in the wind struck Xela's body and she shivered. The air had grown cold very quickly since night had begun to fall.

"Let's get some rest," Jerell said. "The Ivory Mountains are treacherous to say the least. Nurse your spirits because these mountains will do everything in their power to weaken them." Xela ate quickly and took to bed. She could only hope her spirit would survive the next few days.

Chapter Eight

"When faced with the threat of sin,

I beg of you, I implore you,

Refuse most wholeheartedly.

For though Airato is merciful,

Humans, in our mortal weakness,

Are not."

\- Sermon, Writer Unknown

Xela rose shivering, feeling drained and full of anxiety. She had the dream again, the dream where the black sun sent darkness over the land, sucking every inch of good from it, and effectively casting everything into darkness. She didn't need a dream interpreter to know that the black sun stood for Fael, sending unending misery as far as his reach would extend. But was this dream a vision of a future that was undoubtedly going to happen? Or was it merely a warning, revealing what would happen if she did not succeed? Regardless of the nature of her dream, the company had to press on. Even if the dream would become reality despite the efforts of Xela and her companions, giving up was not an option. It never was.

The sky was still mostly dark, the sun working to reach over the mountains. The air was cool, merely foreshadowing the cold they would feel on the climb. The twins were still sound asleep, hopefully dreaming more pleasantly than Xela had the previous night. But Jerell was awake, gazing up at the mountains, possibly anticipating what lies ahead. His gaze looked as tired as Xela felt.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, never turning his gaze from the mountains. Xela stepped up to his right, following his lead by glancing at the Ivories.

"I've slept better."

Jerell broke his focus and turned his head to her. "Looks like we're both anxious about this climb. The snow, the terrain; all of this is out of my element."

Xela nodded. "What do we do about the horses? That path is too treacherous to take them."

"We let them go. Don't worry, Nestor always finds his way back doesn't he? That is what you are worried about right?"

"Yes, he does. But what about the other horses?"

"I think a horse could do worse than running free on the open grasslands." Xela smiled. _True,_ she thought. Being a horse on the open plains of Sol sounded like a wonderful alternative to her life. Xela could only imagine the feeling of freedom blowing through her would-be mane. Freedom from politics, from financial struggles, and from painful memories. She could leave them in the dust underneath her hooves.

_Wouldn't it be wonderful?_ she thought.

The twins were finally stirring awake, looking to be in higher spirits than Jerell or Xela. Once the camp was packed, the horses had to be released. Nestor had returned in the morning like he always had after a night to himself. The others quickly let their steeds go, but Xela gripped Nestor's reins tightly. Nestor sensed her troubled feelings and nuzzled his nose against her hands. "I have to let you go Nestor," Xela whispered. "It's too dangerous to take you up the mountain, so this is where I release you. Goodbye old friend. I hope to ride you again someday." Xela released the reins and Nestor whinnied before riding off in the direction of Sol City.

The group began to ascend the mountain. Caelin's Pass was a path cut through the mountain centuries before by General Caelin, a man in charge of the military forces under Queen Elia. This was before the time of Airato and the continent of Sol desperately existed in a time of war and bloodshed. Despite her opinion of Airato, she knew politically her presence in the minds of the people brought order to the chaos that no monarch could muster.

General Caelin was campaigning to expand the kingdom's territory to the coast, with only the mountains standing in his way. He dubbed the mountain range the Ivories because at the time the mountains were blanketed in pure white snow. However, Caelin and his men were never found, believed to have died on the path they carved themselves. Since then, no soul has used the pass to reach the Western Territories, choosing instead a southern route around the Ivories. But choosing that route would add four more days to their journey and Xela didn't have four more days.

Thankfully the mountains would not be covered with snow, but they would still pose many other threats to Xela and her companions, likely ones similarly faced by Caelin's battalion. Tales were spun surrounding what dangers awaited any who penetrated Caelin's Pass, all pointing to a painful, bloody demise. Xela never thought banshees existed, but she had seen otherwise. She hoped these tales didn't continue that pattern.

Xela took the lead of the group. She clutched her dagger in her hand, certain that the mountains would be even less kind than the forest. The pass was certainly no tourist guide through the Ivories. The path began as a canyon, rough and rugged. The mountains stood tall on the sides of the path, casting shadows over the travelers as they hoped to pass through the trench.

Xela felt as small as an insect, trapped within the walls of the pass. Looking at the undulated path, she wondered how a man and his army, no matter how big, could create a channel this wide and deep. The anxiety continued to build with every step she took, trying to anticipate what may creep out of the shadows to face them.

"Does anybody know what kind of creatures we might encounter?" Xela asked. Her question was answered with silence, everyone breathing very calculated breaths. "Then let's move quickly. I'm sure the longer we stay in one place, the sooner we'll be dead."

The Ivory Mountains were indeed a sight to behold. But this was not the sight that Caelin had seen when he gave the range its name. The path was ugly and desolate, greeting the travelers with nothing but jagged rock and the sigh of the wind ripping through the canyon. Caelin saw nothing more than an illusion when he named the Ivories. The beautiful snow covered up the foulness that lay beneath, a mask on a hideous face. The mountains were depressing and for miles the company saw nothing but rock and a scarce trail of scattered remains. They had not seen any sign of water since starting the trek and Xela began to wonder if anything could actually survive on this terrain.

Xela had no problems keeping the company on the trail considering the towering walls to their sides. Once they cleared the canyon however, the trail's path grew ambiguous. Xela relied on her instincts, mainly those instilled by her father, taking them along a shallow trench that appeared to be the remnants of a stream that once ran down the mountain. The occasional marker would reaffirm they were moving in the right direction.

"We were taken when we were babies," Hale said. The sudden statement surprised Xela, turning to Hale with a confused look and stopped all progress along the trail. "You were asking yesterday about us."

Xela nodded. "Were you taken because of your abilities?"

Hale motioned to a rock, lifted it from the ground with his mind, and held it in midair. "Yes. I told you our powers manifested at a young age. The Four sent for us because we showed signs of potential. A group of men came for us, paid our parents a sum of money, and took us away." Hale released his grip on the stone and it fell to the ground. "Our parents didn't even put up a fight. We have been trained like warriors since we were taken. Ever since we were five we've known the harshness that comes with battle. My parents should have said no. Our lives shouldn't have come at any price."

Em, in her first act of kindness since meeting Xela and Jerell, placed her hand on her brother's shoulder. She looked at them with sadness, not anger as Xela would have expected. "We are forced to make decisions that teenagers shouldn't have to make," she said. And in that split second after, her anger returned. "You don't need to know anything else."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

Jerell stepped in, sensing the tension. "We need to keep moving. There will be no more talk of the past today."

The next hours were bathed in silence as the travelers continued along the pass. The path was steep and ran up the side of the mountain, snaking along cliffs and precipices that would send the travelers to hell should they lose their footing. Xela continuously glanced over the edge, observing the treacherous fall. She prayed the mountains wouldn't make victims out of her party via landslide. Finally, they reached the mouth of a cavern that lead through the mountain itself. "Looks like we have to head inside," Xela said. "Em, can you light the way for us?"

Em nodded and snapped her fingers, summoning fire to her fingertips, creating a perfect light source. "I call it the Candelabra," she said. Xela was impressed. Treading cautiously, she made the first step in the darkness.

The cavern would be pitch dark if not for Em's fire for even the flickering flames couldn't completely pierce the darkness in front of them. Drops of water dripped from the ceiling, echoing down the tunnel. The cavern was eerily quiet otherwise. It uttered no sound of activity, no scrambling of creatures, no wind sneaking in through any opening that may exist. Just the footsteps of the company and the drip drop of water. Something was down there, hiding in the darkness and every life form with a thought did not want to go near it, didn't even want to step foot on the mountain. Gazing ahead, the tunnel branched off into three paths, all equally black in their depths.

"Which way do we go?" Hale asked.

"I would recommend splitting up," Em started, "but we can't leave each other in the dark. Literally."

Xela paused, searching her mind for an answer. A memory came to mind. _Xela was ten years old. She and her father were exploring a cave not far from their village. She sensed he had been here before by the quickness and preciseness in his step. Her father guided her through the dark cave, holding her hand in one of his, and a torch in the other. Deeper and deeper they went, like they were descending into the underworld itself. Rats scurried by Xela's feet, but her father taught her not to scream._

Her father stopped and knelt down beside her, handing her the torch. "Xela," he began, "it seems we have a dilemma. Which way shall we go?" Xela looked ahead and saw that the path took two different routes, one to the left and one to the right. She pointed to the left without a thought and her father gazed into the darkness ahead. "Are you sure?" Xela smiled and nodded. Her father took back the torch. "Let's see if you are right." He held the torch up to the left opening, and stood still for five seconds, as if waiting for a sign from Airato. He turned and said, "My dear, you are wrong."

"How am I supposed to know?" Xela whined, disappointed in her choice.

_"Watch the fire," her father said. He walked over to the right entrance and the fire danced before her eyes, shimmying about the torch. "The fire needs air in order to burn. It will always lead you to open air. Now come."_ The memory fizzled out as Xela's conscience returned to the present.

_Thank you_ Father, she thought. "I know which way to go. Em, hold your hand up to each opening." Em stepped forward, not fully understanding where Xela was going with this idea. The left and center entrances brought forth no activity from the flames. But upon holding them to the right opening, the flames danced on Em's fingertips. "It's this way."

The group continued on, following the winding tunnel on faith that the fire had indeed pointed them in the right direction. Em was growing weak from using her powers for so long, the enduring flames slowly draining her energy. Em was forced to rest for a few moments periodically as the tunnel stretched on. They needed to reach the end soon or they may well be trapped in the dark in the dark for good. But then salvation brushed against their faces. Xela felt a cool breeze coming from the direction they were walking. Picking up the pace, the company reached the end of the tunnel, arriving in a large open space in the cavern.

A small opening at the top revealed the open world above, light shining down on the cavern floor. But Xela soon saw that the light was illuminating the coiled body of a cobra in the center of a nest of human remains. But this was not just an ordinary cobra. It was massive and had to be five times the size of an ordinary snake, in length and in width. Its silver skin appeared stained with blood, probably the blood of every previous adventurer that stumbled upon its nest. The mutated monster's eyes lay shut. Perhaps the cobra had not sensed their presence yet.

"Nobody move." Xela whispered. "Perhaps we move nimbly we can sneak past it." Xela urged the group to follow and they did so, albeit hesitantly. Xela made her way closer to the cobra, taking a step into the wide area of bones. The cobra's eyes snapped opened, slowly uncoiled its body, and lifted its head into the air. As the cobra's body unwrapped, it crushed the bones closest with the ease of snapping a barren twig. The snake's big yellow eyes stared at the company, as if staring into their souls. But it did what snakes couldn't do. It spoke.

"Well, this is unexpected," it hissed in a low, raspy voice. The light hit just right so that Xela could make out the monster's fangs. They had to be the size of her arms, curving slightly backward into the snake's mouth. "It has been too long since I've had visitors. Not too often do you find travelers on Caelin's Pass." Xela looked at the bloodstains on the cobra's skin, the only remains left from the beast's previous visitors, and shivered.

"You can talk?" Em said, prompting Xela to shove her hand back to cover the girl's mouth. She could feel her palms moistening.

"Please, don't be frightened," the cobra said. "I am not going to hurt you."

Xela thought the snake's smile said otherwise. "Who are you?" The snake could coil around all four of them at once and crush them with a single twist, an advantage she would not overlook. But she dared not move. Any sudden movement may provoke an attack from the serpent.

"It matters not who I am, Xela of Laedon. What matters is where you are going."

"How do you know who I am?" Xela asked, staring into the cobra's eyes.

"I know a great many things," the snake said as it raised its head even higher. "My age has given me the opportunity to listen in to the vibrations of the earth. I have been observing the passage of time for centuries."

"Are you working with the Daemon?" Jerell asked.

Upon mention of the Daemon's name, the snake lunged forward and bared its fangs inches from Jerell's face, venom dripping down its teeth like a melting icicle. "That foul creature holds no sway here! He dared to confront me, attempt to force me to join his cause, knowing full well I am a powerful being. But I would not bend to his volition. He is shrouded in darkness and his coalition is of deadly design. Only in his madness would he believe he could accomplish his objective and not reap the consequences."

"Do you know what his plan is?" Xela asked, hoping she could get ahead of her brother for once.

"I do. But he has cursed me. You know firsthand the feeling of having your muscles paralyzed, unable to move no matter how much you struggle."

Xela remembered two years ago. Her bow was ready, her aim was made, but she was unable to fire. Her muscles were not her own. Had they been, Fael would not be alive to cause more pain.

"The Daemon has paralyzed my tongue so that I cannot form the pattern of sounds in order to reveal his plan. All I can say is that it is sinister in its intent. Especially for you."

Xela shuddered at the thought. Her frustration was growing with every obstacle thrown in her path. "Who are you?" she asked. "Why did he come to you for aid?"

"The Daemon knows I hold power here. He knew you would be coming through my pass."

"Your pass?" And then suddenly it all made sense. His pass. "Caelin?"

The snake smiled. "Yes. You didn't think I carved this path through the mountains as a mere human? Unthinkable. I made a deal with forces you wouldn't understand and I transformed, forging the path underneath the weight of my body. I couldn't let Elia reach the coast. No matter her intentions, I couldn't let her reach Rosalia."

_So it was all for love,_ Xela thought.

"Both my love and Elia have long died," Caelin continued, "but my role has not changed. I have guarded my pass for centuries, allowing no living creature to pass by."

"So the question is," Jerell said, "are you going to let us pass?"

Caelin's smile faded to a blank slate. His eyes lowered away and seemed to soften, the human reemerging from within the reptile. A sadness lurked there, a truth that could not be spoken of. "The world has changed over the centuries and I have witnessed its evolution from my cavern. But I do not like where the world is headed. Darkness is looming over us. I will let you pass. The Daemon cannot succeed, for if he does, I shudder to think of the world that will become."

Xela breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure how the situation would progress, but she was content with it pointing in their favor. "Thank you," she muttered, feeling her heart flicker back to normal.

"Fight with all your might Xela," Caelin said. "You will need it all." The snake stood proud as Xela and her companions passed by. Behind Caelin was a lone tunnel, the path to freedom. Xela sent Jerell ahead with the twins before turning back to Caelin to find him completely still, his skin faded completely gray. She reached out to his skin and found it hard as rock. He was petrified, turned to stone. _I guess he'll finally be with Rosalia,_ she thought. She followed the tunnel, leaving the cavern's guardian behind.

Em rekindled her candelabra, having had the time to recover some of her energy. Orange light quickly appeared at the end of the tunnel and the company ran toward it as if personal salvation were achieved by how quickly the sun would engulf them. The light washed over the travelers and though it was still cold, they were filled with warmth that evaded them in the darkness of the tunnels.

"We should find a place to camp for the night," Xela said. She pointed to a small crevice in the side of a cliff. The cliff could provide some shelter from the elements, but nothing else in her surroundings looked promising. The group had little choice but to set up camp. When they were finished and sat to eat, Jerell planted himself next to Xela.

"Caelin is dead," Xela said. "When we passed, he turned to stone."

"His time had come," Jerell said, comforting her with a touch on her arm. "Most likely his defiance of Fael and allowing us to pass triggered his death. There was nothing you could do. Get some rest." Xela finished eating with little conversation and laid her head to rest, trying to alleviate any remorse from her mind as the sun lowered slowly behind the mountains they passed.

***

As the sun broke the next morning, the silence that greeted Xela was no different than the day before. Anything with a heartbeat avoided the pass like a plague. Her vision broke through its typical fuzzy morning state, revealing an overcast sky, but her body would not respond to her command. She wanted to lift herself from the stone, sit up and reexamine her surroundings, get her bearings on the next move they would make. Her limbs were fighting her, remaining still on the ground, as if being pinned by an invisible force.

_Is Fael here?_ Her mind raced, wondering how long he had been watching her, been stalking the camp, and done this to her. She couldn't even wiggle her fingers successfully. _The others,_ she thought. Her heart quickened and felt like it would burst from her chest.

Through the initial panic, Xela gazed to her left and saw a figure kneeling next to her face. A woman. She wore a veil made of black silk, hiding her face except for her mouth, which smiled with ecstasy. Her dress was black, with slits up the sides to her hips. Chains coiled around her arms and extended to her neck where they were attached above her spine. Two more chains were crossed over her chest, barely covering her blossoming bosom. "The Daemon will be pleased I have captured you alive," she said. The woman stood, her four guards gathered in formation around her.

_That voice,_ Xela pondered. _That voice!_ Xela looked up at the figure overshadowing her, wondering how this was even possible.

"Hello Xela." The woman stretched out her arms towards Xela's paralyzed body. "Give us a hug." She removed her veil, letting it slowly fall to the ground. Xela's eyes shimmered as her face was revealed.

It was the face of Gabryelle.

_How is this possible? How could Gabryelle betray me?_ Xela gave every inch of willpower trying to revitalize her paralyzed muscles, but control continued to evade her. _She must have done something to me. But how?_ Xela stared at her limbs as the events from two years ago flashed through her mind. Fael was involved. He had paralyzed her back in the temple and now somehow, Gabryelle could do the same. She glanced up at her friend who stood over her. She was as familiar as a stranger.

"Surprise!" Gabryelle squealed, throwing her arms in the air. The inflection in her voice suggested an innocent girl talking to her best friend, not a woman who in no way resembled such a girl. "Come on Xela! Aren't you happy to see me?"

Xela just stared, not knowing what to say. What could she say?

"She's speechless," Gabryelle giggled. "I really surprised you. I knew I would." She paused, as if waiting for a response, but Xela wasn't prepared to give one. She continued to stare blankly at Gabryelle, who seemed annoyed at Xela's lack of verbal communication. "Xela, I thought you'd be happy. Flash me a smile."

"Gabryelle," Xela said, "what happened to you?"

In a second, Gabryelle's demeanor switched. "What happened to me?" Gabryelle repeated with anger. "What. Happened. To. Me?" Gabryelle burst into thunderous laughter, clutching her stomach. "Xela, what didn't happen to me?" She knelt down to bring her face close to Xela's and smiled a devilish smile. "Let's recap." She jumped up and twirled her dress, revealing her long legs apexing at her buttocks, all while laughing like a child at play in a meadow.

"You left me alone. Not a day after you left, I was captured by a gigantic animal of a man who brought me to the Daemon. The priest who succeeded your father was a fake by the way. The Daemon stabbed me and bled me to death. He resurrected me, endowing me with powers I couldn't have even dreamed of. He sent me to capture you, which is no easy task considering he wants you breathing when I take you to him. And here we are." She smiled as her story concluded.

"I'm so sorry," Xela said, weighing the guilt on her shoulders. "This never should have happened to you. But I'm going to try to fix it. Try to make you better." Gabryelle took the sole of her foot and gently placed weight on Xela's throat. Xela gurgled under the pressure of Gabryelle's boot.

"Feel that oppressive guilt for someone who cares. Don't you get it Xela? You can't make me better. I'm at my best." She placed more weight on her foot and Xela winced in pain. "In fact, it's you he wants to make better." She released the pressure from her throat and motioned to two of her guards, dressed in black armor, to lift Xela's motionless body.

"You can fight it Gabryelle," she exclaimed as she was dragged to her feet. She could feel her legs again, her blood slowly regenerating its course through her body. The spell was wearing off. She just needed more time. "You don't need to do this."

Gabryelle smirked at her. "Of course I do. I don't want to be ungrateful. I owe him everything."

"I never thought you would ever get tangled in this mess I'll kill Fael for this."

"Speaking of Fael, he says hello and can't wait to see you." Gabryelle walked forward and held Xela's face in her fingers. Gabryelle's skin felt cold and lifeless with the texture of leather. "You can't fight what is already in motion."

"Then we fight for her," Jerell said.

Em conjured a fireball the size of a melon to her hand and threw it in the direction of the guards, knocking one down to the ground, blackening his armor. The other continued his charge but was thwarted by Hale who manipulated the guard's sword, smashing the hilt into his stomach to knock him back.

Jerell took this moment to run for Xela, who thrashed in the arms of Gabryelle's other guards in an attempt to escape. They threw Xela to the ground and readied themselves for Jerell. He bounded forward, attempting to butt the end of his staff into one guard's stomach, but the man dodged to the left while the other went in for a blow with his sword. Jerell quickly blocked the blow using the other end of his staff. He kicked his right foot, hitting the face of the guard to his right and knocked him away. He was stunned but not down yet. He rotated his staff and landed a blow on the head of the second guard, sending him face first into the dirt.

Xela glanced over at the twins who were in the heat of fighting. Em was engaged in close combat with her enemy. She had forged a pair of dual swords from ice and was making fast work of her opponent, who did not possess the speed needed to keep up with her. Hale had unsheathed daggers of his own and was using his telekinetic powers to send the daggers back and forth like boomerangs, forcing his enemy to spend his energy dodging instead of attacking. Gabryelle was observing all of this from a short distance away, smiling and letting the occasional cackle fly from her lips.

"All this fighting is getting me so...in the mood," she said. She grabbed Xela by her collar and yanked her from the ground. "Hey handsome!" she cried, grabbing Jerell's attention. "If you want her, come get her!" Distracted by her words, Jerell took a blow to the shoulder from a guard's mace. He stumbled back, almost losing his balance on a loose set of stones.

The breath in Xela's lungs swept out in an instant and her vision was clouded by thick black smoke. She struggled to catch her breath, but no air would enter her lungs. She felt like she was drowning, unable to breathe as she struggled to reach the surface. She was spinning like she was in the midst of a storm. All she could see was the smoke, whipping past her face and invading her lungs.

"Xela hold on," somebody was screaming. It was faint and Xela could barely make it out over the storm surrounding her.

"We're coming!" somebody else cried. Xela focused her energy on escaping the storm. She didn't know how but she had to try. Slowly, her desperation shifted into anger.

"You can't escape my barrier Xela," Gabryelle's voice echoed through the storm, like a god speaking to a puppet. "You are helpless."

_Let's see how helpless I am,_ she thought. Her body struggled against an invisible force trying to keep her in check. The more she struggled, the more her body began to shake free from its prison. When she felt herself in control, a blinding flash of light ripped through the storm. Xela could see the world re-forming around her, appearing as the veil of smoke was shredded like claws to cloth. She stood on a plain, the Ivory Mountains to her back and open, faded fields at her front. She felt dizzy, her muscles slowing rejuvenating back to usefulness. She could barely stand, her legs feeling wobbly and weak. Gabryelle stood hunched over a few feet away from her, seething with anger.

"I don't know how you managed to escape my funnel cloud but you aren't going anywhere." She reached around to the back of her neck and clicked the chain loose from her dress. The chains fell from her neck and she circled her arms to uncoil them, save for her hands. They hung by her sides, lusting to sink into enemy skin. "As you can see, my dress is multifaceted. Can yours do that?" She smiled.

"I liked you better when you were less of a psychopath," Xela said, unsheathing her dagger. She listened as her companions moved swiftly down the mountain. But this was something she needed to do on her own.

Xela rushed forward, gaining speed with every step. Gabryelle stood waiting, her chains swaying slightly side to side. Xela leaped into the air, her dagger poised for a downward slash. She was too close for Gabryelle to retaliate with her chains. As the blow was about to connect, Gabryelle transformed into smoke and disappeared from view. Xela rolled on her back, catching herself and quickly regaining her balance. She stood ready to pounce, listening for any movement.

"Over here," Gabryelle said. As Xela quickly turned to her right, she was met with a long chain striking her across the face. Xela fell to the ground hard, but pushed herself back to her feet. She touched her cheek and just as she thought, she was bleeding. The warm liquid trickled down her cheek.

"I can see Fael has taught you some of his tricks," she said. "Can you get by without hiding from me?"

"Who's hiding?" Gabryelle taunted. She whipped the chain on her right arm for Xela's face and Xela quickly rolled out of the way. Gabryelle mimicked the same attack with her left but Xela not only dodged the chain, but also managed to grab a hold of it. It was heavier than she imagined, so cumbersome that the Gabryelle she knew, a meek and delicate creature, would never be able to lift its weight. Xela took the chain and yanked it backward, sending Gabryelle flying forward, into the earth. Xela took the opportunity to rush in. As she was about to strike, Gabryelle turned to smoke and disappeared once again as Xela's dagger pierced the dirt.

"Where are you?" she whispered. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds all around her. If Gabryelle wouldn't let her get in close, she would displace her another way. She grabbed her bow and one arrow, placing it confidently in place. Then she picked up a familiar sound. Perhaps Gabryelle hadn't changed as much as she thought. Xela quickly turned to her left and let the arrow leave her grasp. The arrow met flesh, plunging into Gabryelle's right shoulder. Gabryelle screamed in pain and collapsed to her knees, holding her hand against the wound.

"You little witch!" she screamed, her eyes glaring at Xela, wanting nothing but to tear her arms from her torso. The arrow had sunk in deep and would be difficult to get out, if she ever got the opportunity. Her blood loss would be great. "How did you know where to shoot?"

Xela smiled and returned her bow to her back. "Don't you remember Gabryelle? You scuffle." Gabryelle scowled at her.

Jerell and the twins had finally reached Xela, just in time to witness Gabryelle's defeat. "Nice work Xela," Hale said. Em nodded her head in agreement. Jerell grabbed Xela's face with both hands, looking into her eyes with relief.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Xela nodded, pulling his hands away from her face, making sure to show no gratitude for his worry.

Em conjured a fireball to her hand, smiling as the flames danced about. "So what are we going to do with her?"

Gabryelle dragged herself back to her feet, the left side of her body drenched in blood. With her left hand, she pulled the arrow from her shoulder, emitting a piercing scream doing so. She discarded the bloodied arrow with a violent toss to the ground. Her wound continued to flow forth, blood running down her body like a waterfall. "I wonder what hurts worse," she said. "My betrayal or this arrow."

"At this moment, I'm willing to bet the arrow," Em said.

"You aren't Gabryelle," Xela said. "You are a mere shadow of the woman I grew up with. Gabryelle is dead. You just happen to be in possession of her body."

"Just know you haven't accomplished anything today," Gabryelle said, pointing a bloody finger in Xela's direction. "Though you may have succeeded in evading my capture, you are no closer to victory than before. The Daemon is five steps ahead of you and you don't even know it. Speaking of which, I have a message from him. He told me to tell you he sends his love and he can't wait to see you soon."

"Tell Fael to bite me." With a smirk, Gabryelle fizzled into smoke for the last time and was gone, evaporating into the air. Xela stared at the spot where she stood, but she felt nothing. No tears came to her eyes, no weight weighed on her heart. More anger came in a torrent. Gabryelle's death and conversion was one more crime Fael would answer for.

"Xela, let's rest before we continue on," Jerell said. "It's already been a rough morning." But Xela brushed Jerell out of the way. She didn't need or want his pity.

"No, we continue. Fael isn't resting and neither will I." And taking her lead, the company resumed their journey to Dyad, in silence. The sky above clouded with darkness and soon rain began to fall.

***

Standing under my master's statue, I sense the return of my newest pet. "So Gabryelle, did you accomplish your mission?" I turn to face her and my new warrior stands before me bloodied and defeated. I knew the answer to her question before she even opened her mouth.

"Just as you expected, master. I did not capture her as I had promised."

"And you tried so hard. How discouraging. But besides that, did you uncover the answer to the other question I posed to you?"

"Yes master, I did. She was able to break free from the storm. She was left incredibly weak after the feat, but she was able to do it. Just like you said."

I smile. I never had any doubts about Xela.

"Thank you Gabryelle. It gives me pleasure knowing that you witnessed what I already suspected. There is more power within Xela than she even knows. And we are going to take it for ourselves. It is time this world trembles in the wake of true power."

"Yes master. Just don't forget that you said I would be your queen when all this was over."

"Yes my pet, I haven't forgotten my promise to you. By the way, I left a plaything for you in your bedchamber. I think you will find him very suitable for your flavor of...entertainment."

Glee passes over her face. "Where did you find him?"

"He is a man within our ranks. He was relaying information from the Sleeper to me and now I have everything I need. His usefulness has expired so he is yours to do with as you wish."

"Master, you are so generous."

"Go my dear and play with your new toy. But do one thing for me?"

"What's that?"

"Make him bleed."

Chapter Nine

"Wisdom is man's greatest strength,

But also their greatest weakness.

Wisdom arms man with the urge to understand,

But hinders him when the answers he receives

Lead to more questions."

\- Book of Letters, Letter to Signor Hjask

The Weary Traveler, the inn that sheltered Xela's company for the evening was an establishment that the Sleepy Princess strove to be. With a total of fifteen rooms and a taproom twice the size of the Princess, it put Laedon's hardly humble lodge to shame. The inn immediately found a room for all her companions, but despite being housed in the same room, Xela didn't feel cramped.

Unfortunately the Weary Traveler also trumped the Sleepy Princess, or Tipsy Temptress in this case, by way of celebration. Twice the space in the bar meant double the patrons and the smell of drunken men occasionally wafted up the stairs into their quarters. The women here didn't entertain the guests in the same way that they did in Laedon. They merely joined in the drinking and went toe to toe with them in the consumption of alcohol.

The noise of the bar didn't bother Xela however, for she was knee-deep in her own thoughts. Gabryelle was now the enemy. A girl that she had grown up with, who had stood by her at her wedding, and who had continued to support her through the turmoil that followed was now on the opposing side. She was the one person Xela had trusted with her life since the beginning. Xela couldn't imagine the pain Gabryelle must have gone through. Being taken in the night, screaming for help, and being stabbed to death until the life had drained from her was a scenario that continued to replay in Xela's mind, haunting her. Though her body still walked, the status of Gabryelle's soul burdened her thoughts.

Gabryelle had suffered a fate worse than death. She had been resurrected to serve a darker means. But resurrected was too beautiful a word for what she had become. She was nothing more than a puppet now in whatever Fael was scheming. A puppet with a few new tricks, but still a puppet nonetheless.

Her former friend had said many things during their encounter, but one phrase stuck out in Xela's mind above everything else she said. _He wants to make you better._ Fael had "made Gabryelle better" by killing her and weaving her into his intricate web of schemes. Did he plan on capturing her to make her a minion of his as well? Turning his sister into one of his slaves would certainly satisfy his ego but nothing more. So what was his endgame?

Had Gabryelle's statement been a mistake, revealing more than she anticipated about Fael's plans? Or did Fael want her to know what he might be planning?

Her emotions toward Gabryelle needed to be cast aside. Not just for the time being, but permanently. Xela didn't want to admit it, but dehumanization was the only way she would be able to battle her best friend. She could mourn the death of Gabryelle, the real Gabryelle, after this entire crisis was put behind her. The fact that Gabryelle's personality had been warped and twisted into something sinful would make the task much easier. Nothing was left of the original.

She looked over at the twins, who slept side by side in their separate beds. Xela wondered if there was ever a time she and Fael even remotely got along with one another, let alone shared the bond that Hale and Em share. A memory did not come to mind. She and Fael were always on opposing ends, in a never-ending war to rise above the other. The fights her father must have broken up between them and the tears that her mother dried could fill a storybook.

Xela opened the window to let the warm ocean air into their room. She was surprised that she enjoyed the smell of the sea salt as much as she did. Dyad was located close to the only ocean to crash against Sol's shore and it was a welcome change. Forests still surrounded Dyad's borders and the ocean's sweet scent mixed with the smell of the woods created an interesting concoction. Anything was better than the smell of ale.

A gentle tapping came at the door and Xela tiptoed to the door, opening it just a crack to see who was there. She hoped that none of the men downstairs would approach the door, but she was ready to shoot them down if they made that mistake. Thankfully, she met Jerell's face and the overwhelming disappointment that was written all over it.

"Townsfolk are saying they don't know anything about a Grimoire, but there is a sanctuary at the top of the hill where they worship. We should look there."

"Are they suspicious? The Four warned us that they might not receive us so warmly."

"I don't think so. They are very welcoming and find my questions endearing to them despite how odd they must sound. They seem to be dismissing my inquiries as, what did they call it, curious outsider ramblings."

Jerell walked in and quietly closed the door behind him. He smelled of ale, smoke and cheap liquor, but no alcohol was on his breath. Apparently the patrons downstairs were having a grand time amongst themselves and couldn't keep their liquid enjoyment in their glasses. Jerell untied his cloak and left it on his bed directly across from Xela's.

"Do you mind if I change my tunic?" he asked. "I reek of tavern." Xela shook her head.

Jerell's body was strongly built, lean but strong. The moonlight accented his body, defining his muscles and features prominently, as if presenting Jerell to Xela like a trophy. Xela was familiar with the male form, but not with one so new in her life. This invigorated her, filling her with excitement until she chastised herself for even entertaining the emotion.

Jerell slid a different tunic over his head and sat crossed legged on his bed, sorting through his pack. Their supplies were almost gone, but they had planned well for the trip. They would gather more supplies before the return trip back to the capital. Xela watched as Jerell shifted through his belongings, wanting to start a conversation but unsure of where to start.

"She was your friend," Jerell said, breaking the silence. "That girl that attacked us was your friend." _Not exactly a conversation I wanted to have,_ Xela thought.

"Yes. We grew up together. She was my maid of honor at my wedding."

"You were married?" Jerell asked. "That is something I cannot believe." Jerell sighed as he pulled his canteen from his pack. He took a sip from it and smiled. "I hardly see you settling down with a man. You have a quality about you that doesn't support that."

Jerell had never known Xela before Raynor's death. He never knew the life Xela lived as a protector of her village, a life so unlike the mission she was directed on now. Her priorities were different then, surrounded by the ones she loved. She couldn't blame him for his opinion.

"Almost married," Xela said. "On my wedding day, just as Raynor and I were going to make our vows to each other, my brother made a surprise appearance." Xela lowered her gaze, twiddling her thumbs on her lap.

"It didn't end well," Jerell said. "I'm sorry. I understand now why you hate him so much."

_Hardly,_ she thought. He didn't really understand how she felt, but she appreciated that he was trying. She laid her head back against the pillow. _Change the subject,_ she thought. _No more talk of Fael or Gabryelle. I just can't right now._ Even if her family didn't have a happy ending, Jerell's story might be different.

"Do you have any siblings Jerell?"

"No, I'm my mother's only child," he said. "Besides, once you bear the next person in line to the Druid ancestry, bearing any more children is forbidden."

"Why is that?"

"The Druid bloodline is a miracle. My mother conceived me without having relations with any man. Once the mother of a descendant bears her child, she is forbidden from bearing a child in the traditional sense so that she may preserve her purity."

"The Spirit's presence in your body is hardly a miracle. It brings you intense physical and spiritual pain. And it shouldn't be someone else's choice whether or not your mother decides to have more children."

Jerell smiled. "You look at everything too negatively Xela. Yes, the Spirit does cause me pain. But the good I can do with my abilities outweighs the pain I am cursed to suffer. And on the subject of my mother, she knew what responsibilities came with the duty of bearing me."

Xela sat up. "What would happen if she had had more children?"

Jerell paused to think for a moment. "I don't know. There is no record of a second sibling ever being born of the mother of a descendant. I don't know what the protocol would be. Besides, she died about ten years ago."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Don't worry about it. She's with Gaia now, in harmony with nature itself."

After everything she had seen, Xela wasn't sure what to believe about an afterlife. She questioned whether a person's spirit departed to a higher plane of existence while their body rotted in the cold ground they lay in. Perhaps a soul didn't exist at all. But somehow, deep in her gut, Xela believed. Not because of an unwavering faith, but because she refused to believe humans walked the earth without a purpose.

"I think it's time we get some sleep," Xela said. Jerell nodded in agreement and they both slipped into sleep.

But Xela did not sleep soundly that night. The black sun continued to rise over the horizon, storming her dreams. Each night the dreams grew more painful, more physical. Xela would wake up being consumed even further by the darkness than the night before. And the pain was becoming too much to bear. The darkness was tearing at her body, ripping it to shreds as if to reach her very soul. Not only was she waking up in a cold sweat, but now she would discover scratches and tears on her body where she felt the most pain. Even in sleep she couldn't escape.

And the voices. The disjointed voices that whispered in her ear were slowly becoming clearer, more defined. At first they seemed to number in the hundreds, all muttering phrases and words she couldn't understand. But they were molding together, slowly melding into a singular, threatening voice. The voice beckoned to her and whispered her name. Was she going insane or was she merely beginning to understand the chaos that plagued her dreams?

The next morning everyone was up at dawn. Together, they formed a plan to get them all into the sanctuary. After spending the better part of the evening interacting with the villagers, Jerell had already planted their cover story among the populace.

"We are a family from a town up north that journeys south to find a new place to settle. The people have recommended we pray at the sanctuary for good fortune. I doubt they remember me asking about the Grimoire based on how much they consumed last night. Once we are inside we will investigate the sanctuary and take the Grimoire, if it lays there."

"Sounds simple enough," Hale said. "The townspeople seem like easy going people so they shouldn't suspect anything. But just to be sure, where are we from?"

"I heard a lot of the people in the tavern asking if we were from a small settlement called Nojac near the northern coast," Jerell answered. "It's an obvious choice. Nojac has heavy Imperial roots from centuries of occupation so we fit right in. No need to fake any accents here."

"Then let's go," Xela said. "No time to waste."

The village square in Dyad was very reminiscent of the square in Laedon. Xela felt right at home around the mothers crying out for their children as they tried to bargain for bread, the men standing in groups devilishly eyeing every female that moved, and the one man who shouted at everyone to repent and strive for salvation from his soap box. A little boy ran past her, giggling with joy as his sister chased after him in a game of cat and mouse. If she closed her eyes, she could have sworn she was home. The only difference was the sweet scent of the ocean breeze.

"The sanctuary is up the hill this way," Jerell directed them. She followed closely with the twins behind her, who were pointing at an array of things like the people, the buildings, and the landscape. Either they were playing their part well or they were truly fascinated by the differences between cultures. Xela had to keep reminding herself that they had never seen beyond Sol City's walls until a few days ago. Their behavior was perfectly normal.

"The buildings are so much smaller here," Em commented rather loudly.

"Em, don't be so condescending," Hale scolded. "The hills are beautiful. See?" Hale pointed to a distant landscape where the hills seemed to roll for miles.

Em smiled at the sight. "Yeah, they are pretty amazing."

"Come on you two," Xela said, doing her best to sound motherly.

The sanctuary stood on the hill overlooking the square and the company stood at its entrance only minutes after leaving the tavern. It was made completely from stone and was the size of a one-room hut. The structure was crafted to resemble a face with a rounded head, its rectangular eyes squinting down at the square below.

"This is it?" Em asked. "It's tiny. We're expected to believe that this holds the Grimoire?"

"I'm confused," Hale said. "We always learned that Dyad worshipped Airato once the continent united. The design of this sanctuary predates the worship of Airato, and indicates a different deity entirely."

"They do," Jerell said. "But this structure is the oldest in the village and people still pray here, believing it will bring them good tidings. Dyadians are very superstitious people."

"We've no time to waste," Xela said. "For all we know, Fael has already acquired the Grimoire and formulated his next move. In we go." Xela literally pushed the twins ahead and they entered the sanctuary. It was a small circular room made from beige colored bricks. The wall arched into a dome, creating the roundness of the sanctuary's face. Directly in front of them as they entered was a statue of a man holding a giant shield as he crouched in a defensive position. It was made of wood and was intricately made, prompting Xela to lean in closer to examine the statue. It was a bald man clothed in heavy steel armor with a large shield buckled to his back. Other than its craftsmanship, nothing seemed different about it at a glance.

"This must be who they pray to," Jerell said. "I am unfamiliar with this deity. By the looks of it, he is a god that values protection, hence the enormous shield. But let's check this room before examining the statue closer. There might be a nook where the book is hidden." They split and checked the walls rigorously, pulling on slabs of stone, trying to shimmy one loose from its slot. But none would give. Em brought fireballs to both palms in a fit of frustration.

"We can always tear it down."

"And have the rage of the town upon us?" Xela said. "Stupidity." She returned to the statue and examined it closer. "It has to be this statue." She attempted to twist the limbs, tilt its head, even rotate the entire statue from its base, but nothing budged from its place. Was this all for nothing?

"I don't understand," Xela said. "It has to be here. You don't think Fael could have gotten here before us?" Xela leaned against the statue's shield, clutching her head. Words began to illuminate across the shield upon her touch as if being penned by an invisible hand.

"Only one of pure intentions may lay hands upon that which is hidden," Xela read. "Open your mind and you may yet find your prize."

Xela blindly followed the instructions. She closed her eyes and focused on the Grimoire, on the power the ancient manuscript probably harbored within its pages. In the swirling darkness a figure appeared, holding the book in his hands. Xela approached and realized she stood in the presence of the statue come to life.

"You are the one who seeks the knowledge of this book," the statue said. His stoic face stared blankly at Xela, or through her she could not tell. "I am the guardian sworn by the Old Gods to protect the book and the forbidden secrets that lie within. Speak your name and purpose."

"I am Xela of Laedon and I seek the Grimoire as a way to halt the designs of a man filled with darkness."

The guardian stood stoic, absorbing Xela's response. "An honorable duty. Airato's favor surrounds you, bathes you in her light. You are the one I have waited an age for."

"So how do I get the book?"

"When you return to the sanctuary, I will simply step aside. But be wary. This book you seek is powerful. Should the words within be spoken, only its twin can reverse it."

"Wait, there is another Grimoire? Where is it?"

"I do not know. Though I guard this book, another guardian oversees the other. Whether the book has been retrieved is unknown to me. Go now and walk in the light."

Xela blinked and she again stood in front of the statue. The statue rumbled and shifted to the side, revealing a staircase leading down into a lower chamber where the Grimoire would be waiting.

"Em, if you wouldn't mind?" Xela said, nudging the teenage mage on the arm. Em lit her hand ablaze and lit the hidden passageway. The path was narrow, allowing only a single file excursion down the length of its expanse. The short passage opened to a large room kept empty except for a dirt floor and a book held prisoner in a glass encasement. The Grimoire.

Xela ran forward, gently slipped the glass from the book and grabbed it. It was old, fragile, and the binding was coming apart. Dust leaped into the air as Xela blew softly on the weathered jacket. She opened the delicate manuscript and found the pages scribbled in a language unknown to her. The words continued on for hundreds of pages over thin paper, taunting Xela with the secrets that rested in those words. She closed the book and a layer of dust flew into the air.

"Let's get out of here," Xela said.

"I'm surprised the chamber wasn't laid with traps," Hale said.

"Well let's leave before it changes its mind," Jerell said. The company quickly retreated out of the chamber and into the sanctuary proper. As they re-emerged from the lower passageway, screams erupted from the town. The group ran out of the sanctuary and down the hill to find more than a dozen members of Dyad grouped together in fear. Men, women and children all huddled together, keeping their cries muffled in fear of having their life taken away. A giant man stood by the group's side, staring right at Xela. He wielded a giant axe in his thick hands and he seemed eager to put it to use.

"Xela, darling," Gabryelle said. She strutted out from behind the crowd and smiled. "So good of you to join us."

"I thought I took care of you yesterday," Xela said. "That wound I gave you should have taken weeks to heal."

"Funny thing about being dead," she said. "Healing is much quicker. If you break your neck, it snaps right back into place." Gabryelle laughed a little too hard at her own joke. "I kill me. Well, I guess it's a little late for that, but still, I really can bust a gut."

"You are really screwed up." Em said.

"Watch your mouth little girl or I'll cut your lips off myself," Gabryelle snapped. "Besides, this doesn't concern you." Gabryelle walked over to the giant and stroked his arm. The giant's muscles were abnormally large, far exceeding what any human should be able to possess. His face was distorted as if he had been born with some kind of debilitating disease and his skin seemed to have yellow tones under the surface. He didn't respond to Gabryelle's touch, focusing still on Xela. "This is Yokun. He and I have been inseparable since he kidnapped me and delivered me to my master. So glad you two have finally met."

"What the hell do you want?" Xela said.

"Oh it's not what I what," Gabryelle replied with a smile. "It's what my master wants."

Black smoke seemed to swoop in from all directions, blocking the sky and surrounding the square. It zeroed in on a single spot and began to gather together. A familiar cackle rang through the air, making Xela's blood boil. She grabbed her bow and readied an arrow as the smoke had completed its transformation.

"Dear sister," Fael said. "How good to see you." He smiled, his fang-like teeth grinning through his thin lips. Without a word, Xela released her arrow, aimed for Fael's throat. Just as the arrow was about to meet flesh, Fael grabbed it with his right hand and snapped its shaft in half. "Now, now, that's no way to start a family reunion." Xela placed another arrow in her bow and fired. Fael repeated the same by grabbing and crushing it before it could make any contact.

"If that didn't work the first time, what theory would have you believe it would work the second? The definition of insanity is repeating an act a second time but expecting a different result. That means you, Xela, are insane."

"I will kill you."

"I don't think so," Fael said while wagging his finger. "Make one more move like that again and I will kill everyone in this square. And if any of your little friends try anything, I'll kill them as well."

Xela froze, daring not to breathe. She would not be the reason these innocent people got hurt. "You want the Grimoire. Let these people go and I'll hand it over."

Fael frowned. "Sister, I am not worried about the book. I have faith it will find its rightful place soon. It is you I desire. If you come with me, I will let these people go."

"Never."

"You are in no position to bargain. I am giving you the choice I didn't give you last time. Give yourself up or everyone dies."

The idea of giving herself up was one she revolted. The sight of Fael angered and disgusted her, but if that's what she had to do to save these people, then she would. "Fine then, I will go with you."

"No Xela," Hale said. "You can't go with him. You'll play right into his hands."

"I have to. I don't want anyone else to get hurt." She turned to Fael and stared him down. "Let them go. Now."

"As you wish." Fael snapped his fingers and immediately the townspeople ran for their homes, screaming in terror. They seem to have been the victims of Fael's paralysis, a feeling all too familiar to Xela. She stepped away from her companions and joined Fael by his side, rage written on her face. She exchanged looks with Jerell, who met her with a blank gaze. She couldn't believe they were giving the Daemon what he wanted.

"Aww, I wanted to play with them," Gabryelle whined.

"Killed that spy a little too quick did we?" Fael said. "Come Xela. Your destiny awaits."

"Xela..." Jerell said, reaching out to her. "There has to be another way."

"Don't worry about me. Just get that book back to Marquis."

With Gabryelle and Xela by his side, Fael began to fade to smoke again, bringing his sister and Gabryelle with him. Xela's body slowly disappeared with his. As he was almost completely gone he uttered one phrase to the giant who had loomed over the entire scene.

"Take the Grimoire and kill them."

Chapter Ten

"And the masked fiend,

The creature that would behead Her Prophet,

Revealed his face.

It was the face of man, twisted into a demon.

And as the axe fell upon Wyndel's neck,

Airato weeped."

\- Book of White, Ch. 7, Verses 78-79

The giant, Yokun, ran clumsily forward and swung his axe in a wide arc. If Hale hadn't been ready for it, his head would have been cut clean off. Hale levitated his daggers and plunged them into the monster's chest. Yokun sighed as he pulled the blades from the wound and tossed them aside. There were no wounds to mark where the daggers had been. Yokun smashed the blunt end of his axe into the earth, knocking Hale off his feet from the vibration. Landing flat on his back, Hale lost his breath.

Lifting his axe again, Yokun began the downward strike at the fallen mage. At the last moment, Hale rolled to the side, the heavy blade barely missing him. Jerell shuddered to think of the damage that would have been done.

"He's too strong," Hale said as he lifted himself from the ground. "Do you see how he heals?"

Jerell rolled to the side as the giant axe crashed into the ground. He jumped back to his feet and swung his staff horizontally, connecting with the back of Yokun's left knee, causing it to buckle. He then went in for a frontal attack, but despite being down, the giant swiped his arm, knocking Jerell off his feet and sending him spine first into the ground. Jerell moaned in agony as the creature regained its footing, hovering over Jerell and readying his axe for another blow.

Em ran towards the giant with ice daggers in her hand and threw them with deadly precision, landing the dual blades in the monster's throat. Yokun roared with pain and immediately removed the daggers from his throat and crushed them under his boot. Em conjured two fireballs to her hands and tossed them, grazing Yokun's face and his right arm, allowing Jerell to get away.

"Nothing is working," Hale said, though the severity of their situation was gravely obvious. The Daemon's dark powers that flowed through the beast gave him superhuman strength and endurance. The giant didn't have a scratch on him, mocking the efforts that the group had made to incapacitate him. He stood perfectly still, begging for them to make another attack.

"Forget this freak," Em said. "I'm gonna give him all I got. Stand back." Em began an intricate set of hand motions, stirring the air around her, conjuring something large to take on the giant. Jerell looked on, astounded at the complexity of her movements. Embers began to float around Em's body, growing brighter and larger with each sweeping motion of her arms. They began to form what looked like spears, each ember elongating into lances of pure vitality, all pointed to Yokun who stood his ground 15 meters away. Jerell counted 20 spears of fire marking their target.

"Let's see him come back from this," she said. She swept her hands behind her and pushed them forward in a wave-like motion, sending the army of spears soaring across the battlefield in a blaze of glory, each javelin leaving behind a trail of embers floating in the air. All the spears hit Yokun at once, sending him flying backwards and pinning him into the ground, their fire searing his skin. "Cover your face." She manipulated the embers the spears had left behind, gathering them into a single ball of energy. The sphere of lightning sizzled and crackled with power.

"How long have you been able to conjure lightning?" Hale asked.

"Thought this would be the perfect time to try. Now let's fry him." The lightning ball charged to Yokun as he lay on the ground. As the lightning hit him, it surged while lightning began streaking and branching out from the ball, the spears of fire working like lightning rods to intensify the damage. Yokun convulsed on the ground, unable to control his body's movement. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. And in an instant, the lightning disappeared, dissipating into thin air, leaving a light curtain of smoke behind. Em smiled and having given all of her energy, buckled and collapsed to the ground where she stood.

Hale ran to his sister's aid and laid his hands on her temples. He closed his eyes and his hands glowed brightly, channeling his energy into her to help her recover. She didn't respond.

"Come on Sis, get up," he said. "You did it, you brought him down." Jerell began to walk over to the twins when the giant roared from across the battlefield. Jerell turned and saw Yokun slowly making his way back to his feet. His flesh was charred and burnt to a crisp but yet he had survived. Yokun raised his axe and threw the weapon across the square, aimed right for Jerell. Jerell leaped to the side, the axe barely missing him and landing in the trunk of a tree, practically severing the trunk in half.

Jerell looked over to Hale, who kneeled next to Em's unconscious body. "We have to get her out of here. She's expended too much of her energy." Jerell handed Hale the Grimoire and delicately picked up Em in his arms. "Let's go. Quickly." They ran off into the trees towards the sea. Jerell was trying desperately to think of a plan. He needed time to think. Jerell had noticed the trees surrounding the town looked sturdy and quite strong. He needed to get the twins out of danger so he could find a way to deal with their giant of a problem. Foliage wasn't the permanent solution, but a temporary one was better than none.

"Quick, to the treetops!" he exclaimed and they started climbing. Jerell had done this many times as a boy and as a Ranger, but Hale was finding climbing difficult, especially while carrying the delicate Grimoire. But they managed to climb 20 feet high to sit on a sturdy branch, observing the forest floor below. The giant was so slow that he had fallen behind during the chase.

Through the brush they could see Yokun approach, his giant axe equipped and ready in his hands. He had not seen them escape up the trunk of the tree and continued to walk past their location without examining the tree tops. This was the opportunity Jerell had hoped for. Sometimes the element of surprise was just enough to see a battle turn in a more desirable favor.

"Hale, look after your sister. Do not come down after me." Hale nodded as Jerell laid Em gently on a wide branch. Her eyes flickered, her body struggling to regain consciousness. Jerell stood and sighed. He leaped from the branch and landed on Yokun's shoulders. Yokun responded by thrashing about, desperately trying to shake Jerell from his body, roaring in frustration. Jerell dropped from Yokun's shoulders and landed softly on his feet. It seemed only the Spirit had the power needed to stop their adversary.

Wielding his staff, Jerell slammed the tip of his weapon into the ground. Veins of green left the tip of the staff and flowed through the ground like a river. The earth gathered around Yokun's ankles, covering them and solidifying into rock, effectively pinning him to that spot. No matter how he struggled, Yokun was incapable of breaking free. Em's last attack had weakened him to the point where his strength was not enough to escape. The earth continued to overtake Yokun's body, encasing him in rock, rising like a parasite taking its host. If they couldn't defeat him, trapping him was the next best thing.

Jerell struggled to keep the spell going. Yokun was struggling and though he wasn't strong enough to break free, his strength was superior to that of a normal man. And this strength made the task of trapping him difficult. Jerell's energy was depleting fast, fatigue beginning to creep into his muscles and his mind. _I have to keep going, I have to finish this,_ he thought. Sweat poured down his face as he sent the last of his energy to the staff. With a groan, Yokun disappeared under the rock as it masked his face, trapping him forever. The giant stood locked in a pose of pure agony, realizing his defeat and unable to escape his fate. Jerell collapsed to his knee, recovering his breath and slowly returning to normal from his Spirit state.

Hale and Em slowly climbed down the tree they had been perched upon. Em had come back to consciousness moments before. She was awake but still weak from using her talents beyond her limits. They ran over to Jerell, who breathed heavily. "He won't be bothering us anymore. How are you feeling Em?"

"I've been better," she said. "Just wish it was me that finished the deed not you."

"Your spell was the reason I was able to succeed. If anything you—"

Jerell's head began throbbing with pain. He couldn't help but scream, clutching his head in agony. He rolled on the ground, thrashing about as if his body was engulfed in fire. Jerell gritted his teeth as the pain continued to intensify. _What's going on?_ He thought. _I've never felt pain like this._

Jerell wasn't alone. Someone or something else had invaded his mind, breaking down his mental barriers with ease. As each brick fell, each stone fragmented, he was losing control.

_At last,_ a voice whispered in Jerell's head. _Our time has come._

_Who are you?_ Jerell asked of the voice.

_We are the souls of every ancestor enslaved by the bloodline, cursed to remain imprisoned in the recesses of the mind._ The voice spoke with the rage of a thousand souls.

_What do you want?_ Jerell hesitated, fearing he may already know the answer.

Control.

Jerell began to glow, far brighter than he ever had before. The twins backed away and covered their faces, blinded by the light. Jerell's body levitated in the air as he writhed in agony.

"What's happening?" Hale said.

"Get away from me," Jerell said. A pulse boomed from his body outward, knocking the twins back. The earth began to rumble violently. The trees bent in his direction, as if bowing before a king. The wind whipped about, swirling around and creating a vortex where Jerell floated above the ground. In the distance they could hear the waves crashing hard against the rocky cliffs.

"What's going on?" Em said, trying to project her voice over the howling winds. Her voice faded as Jerell felt everything go black. Jerell straightened from his fetal position to look down upon the twins, pure power coursing through his body. The earth seemed to shudder at his strength. A voice that didn't belong to Jerell spoke through his mouth.

"Insurrection."

***

Em and Hale held each other close through the whipping winds, trying to decide what to do. Jerell's powers were continuing to escalate and the entire forest would be consumed if they were not put in check. Hale yelled over the winds, his words barely audible to his own ears.

"Jerell, please stop."

"Jerell is no longer present," the voice said.

"How is that possible?" Hale asked of the voice.

"We have been dormant for far too long. We have provided the power that fueled his pathetic existence. Now it is our turn to take control."

Out of nowhere the twins felt a pair of hands pull them away from the chaos and behind a nearby tree. They looked up and found Signor Avela wrapping her arms around them, keeping them close and away from the winds. Her eyes wore heavy black circles and she looked like she had been through hell.

"Signor," Em said. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking you to safety. Come on." Avela attempted to bring the twins with her, but they both resisted.

"We can't leave Jerell," Hale said.

Avela gazed out from behind the tree. Jerell showed no signs of stopping, a floating time bomb threatening to go off at any moment. Hale pushed his way out of her grasp and ran to Jerell, to the eye of the storm he was creating. Standing directly underneath Jerell's body, he did the only thing he knew he could do.

"Jerell you need to come back."

"We told you!" the voice boomed. "Jerell is gone. We have control now."

If Hale had noticed anything over the short journey, it was that Jerell was fond of Xela. Perhaps only the terrible truth would bring Jerell's consciousness back to the surface. "Xela is in danger and she needs us. Her brother took her and who knows what he is doing to her right this very minute."

Jerell's face gazed down at Hale, expressionless. "We care not for this Xela of which you speak. She is only of concern to the host we inhabit. We grow weary of your plight. We have other things that must be done."

"Jerell, she could die. We need your help or Xela could die." Even Hale felt pain from saying the horrible reality. He hoped that this pain would give Jerell the strength to come back.

The green glow faded for an instant and with his own voice, Jerell uttered one word. "Xela..." The green glow was quickly reinvigorated and with its return, Jerell was forced underneath once again. The entity taking control did not like being toyed with.

"No!" the voice said. "This body is ours!" Jerell's body lifted his palms to the sky, loosening the dirt in the earth and bringing the ground into the storm. The earth whipped about with the wind, stinging Hale's face as each grain grazed his skin. The entity was trying to force Hale away.

"You can fight it. You just did and you can do it again. Em and I can't rescue Xela alone. Fight this possession. Fight so that you may see her face once again." Hale noticed Jerell's hands shaking. Jerell was indeed fighting back against whatever possession had befallen his body. The voice groaned over and over, desperately trying to keep its grip, but Jerell's will was proving too strong.

"You cannot take away what is already ours," the voice said. "We will finally return to the earth and live once more." Jerell's body convulsed, its green glow flickering like a flame struggling for air.

"No," the voice groaned. And with that final breath, the winds died down, calming the air and sending the dirt back to its source. The earth ceased its quivering and remained silent. The trees returned to their proud posture as they once were. The sea's violent waves receded to calm crescents. Jerell's body faded from its green glow back to normalcy, his blue eyes resurfacing where green pools of light once were.

"Thank you," he said as he gazed into Hale's young face. Jerell's knees buckled and he fell. Hale caught him and slowly lowered the back of the Ranger's head to the earth as his sister and Avela ran to his side.

"He's back," Hale reaffirmed. "He needs to rest."

"He can rest on horseback," Avela said. "We must depart immediately. Time is against us and the Daemon crawls closer to victory."

"What has happened?" Hale asked. A Signor would never travel so far from Sol City without a pressing reason. Without answering, Avela scooped Jerell from the ground and took off in the direction of Dyad. When they arrived back, Avela gently placed Jerell's limp body on the horse with her as she mounted.

"I blame myself for not seeing it sooner," Avela said. "By Airato's breath, I have been a fool all this time."

"Signor, I don't understand," Em said as she pulled two horses from the stables for her brother and her. "Why did you come here?"

Avela stopped and faced the twins, sadness overtaking her face. "We have a spy in the Temple. We intercepted an encounter between one of the Daemon's men and a hooded figure known as the Sleeper. Seems our faith is not as secure as we thought behind our walls."

"How could there be a spy?" Em asked.

Avela caressed her horse and made sure Jerell was secure. "We managed to capture the Daemon's messenger but the Sleeper eluded our grasp. He told me everything. He was relaying information from a source in the Temple back to his master. I released him back to the Daemon, where surely he will meet his end."

"Do you know who the Sleeper is?"

"No, the spy could not name the Sleeper's identity. It was a mystery even to him. Since I have learned of this traitor, I shared my information with no one and departed immediately so I may catch up with you."

The twins mounted their steeds. "So what do we do now?" Em asked. "Xela has been kidnapped."

"But you have the Grimoire. The Daemon did not achieve total victory. We will rescue her. But first we travel north. A remote monastery lies hidden where we may converse with the gods. I can trust no one else but Airato herself."

***

Xela tried her best to overcome the funnel cloud like she had done with Gabryelle, but Fael was much stronger. The storm was much more violent and more nauseating. Xela felt sick during the entire journey, due to the fury of the storm, further exacerbated by Gabryelle's fits of laughter. _Why in the world is she still laughing?_ Xela thought. _She knows something._

After what seemed like hours, Xela felt solid ground beneath her feet and collapsed, catching herself with her hands. The smoke began to clear and reveal where they had gone. The room was pearl white with yellow flowers blooming on every end table, a lavish chamber with a big window looking out on the city below, framed by tapestries of yellow silk and all-white furniture. Xela immediately recognized the familiar cityscape below. It was Sol City. And the room was in the Temple of the One.

"Surprised to be back so soon?" Fael said. He walked over to the window and gazed over the city. "I suppose you are wondering how I managed to get you into the Temple, let alone into the city past that pesky inner wall's magical barrier. When you can not surpass an obstacle by scaling it or passing through it, you must tunnel underneath it."

"Why are you telling me this?" she said, refusing to look in his eyes. She wouldn't accept his gloating. "It doesn't matter how we got in. Once the Four find out you have invaded the temple, whatever you are planning will never come to pass. You will be caught and executed immediately."

"I highly doubt that sister." Fael smirked the way he did when he was about to crush her spirit. "You see we are guests here, not intruders. And we are about to be officially greeted." In that instant, Signor Marquis walked into the chamber with the biggest smile on his face. With his arms outstretched, he embraced Fael like a brother. There it was. Fael smiled at Xela over Marquis's shoulder, for once again he was five steps ahead of her.

Xela couldn't help but frown at Marquis's betrayal, the man she thought was the driving force to bring the Daemon down. And here he was, embracing that very enemy he had been zealously hunting.

"Don't look so grim Xela," Gabryelle said. "If you wanted a hug, I'd be happy to oblige." _So this was the joke,_ Xela thought. Gabryelle always had issues holding in her excitement.

"If you so much as touch me I will end you," Xela said. "Signor Marquis, how could you? The Daemon is here, in your grasp. And yet I see you in a brotherly embrace with evil incarnate. Have you lost your mind?"

Marquis's expression darkened as he moved away from Fael. His eyes were different, blacker than they usually were. Did Fael possess him? Or had his mind descended into madness so far that he couldn't be reached? He walked over to Xela and clutched her by the throat. Instinctively, Xela grabbed his wrist with both of her hands, trying to pull them away from her. Marquis slammed her against the wall, knocking what wind was left out of her lungs.

"Quiet you witch," he snarled. "You are a fool. A damned fool. Don't you see? I have deceived Airato herself. I have been in league with the Daemon this entire time. As I ascended to the rank of Signor, no one questioned my unwavering faith. But little did they know it was not for Airato that my faith stood strong."

"You're a fraud," Xela said, barely able to get out her words under the strength of Marquis's hand. He released his grasp and backed away, sending Xela crumbling to the floor, gasping for breath. She scrambled to her feet, keeping her back against the marble wall. Everything she had known up until this point was a lie. Was the mission to retrieve the Grimoire a wild goose chase? She had looked upon Marquis's noble face with nothing but respect worthy of his post. But where those feelings once were, hatred has spawned in their place.

"You'll never get away with this," she said. "The others will not stand for your betrayal. This city will never follow you."

"On the contrary Xela, the city will not only follow me, but do so most willingly, with no coercion on my part," Marquis said. "You see, Avela has left the city on personal business, tried as she might to cover her tracks, and I have sent an assassin so that it will be her last errand. Korbal and Cerena will also befall similar demises, leaving me the sole survivor of a coup d'état to bring down the Four by the Daemon himself. Control of Sol City will be given to me without question and I will rule the countryside as its governor." Marquis's words hit Xela again and again like the broad end of a sword.

"So my quest for the Grimoire," Xela began, "was it all for nothing?"

"No, my dear," Fael interjected as he walked to Xela's side, each step slow and purposeful. He was flaunting his control over the situation. Xela could smell the arrogance on his breath. "We needed you to know about that pesky Grimoire so you could retrieve it. But what the Signor here didn't tell you was that the Grimoire couldn't be touched by a person it considered tainted. Of course by now, you have already figured that out."

"I get it now," Xela said. "The book would never let you hold it with all the blood on your hands." _Only one of pure intentions may lay hands upon that which is hidden._ "But that doesn't explain everything Fael. Why didn't you just take the book when you took me?"

"Very simple dear sister," Fael said, circling around her like a vulture to a decomposing corpse. "The sanctuary was a magical barrier that repelled me and my magic. You had just taken the book from its resting place; the magic had yet to wear off. But by now, the magic has fizzled out and the power sealed within is up for grabs by anyone with thumbs. And the book will take the shape according to the one who holds it."

A puppet. She was nothing more than a puppet in Fael's ultimate scheme. Her companions were all puppets too, completing the puzzle where Fael could not. She wanted to scream, to slit their throats and stain the marble floor with their blood. "My friends won't let you take the book," Xela said through her teeth.

"They won't have a choice. Yokun is going to beat them to a bloody mess and when their bones have been ground into dust, he will deliver the Grimoire to me." Xela lurched forward, reaching for Fael's throat. Xela's anger had gotten the best of her. Fael easily side-stepped to avoid his sister's pounce, leaving Xela a crumbled mess on the floor where he had stood. "Getting desperate? Perhaps you should focus your anger on something more valid. Such as surviving?"

"Your allies are dwindling Xela," Marquis said. "What are you going to do when you stand alone against the Daemon and his army?"

"As long as one flicker of light exists, we can never give up hope." Should she try to run? No, she would never make it. For once, Fael was right. She would never get away and that wouldn't stop whatever they were planning. Jerell, Hale and Em would find her and help her escape. In the meantime, she had to do one thing. Survive. And that included the fact that another Grimoire existed, a sister to the very book Fael needed, would remain her secret. For now, she would play her part.

"Spare me the inspirational, vomit-inducing speeches," Marquis said, slapping Xela across the face with the back of his hand. "Your flicker of hope is about to be doused. You couldn't possibly imagine what is in store for you." Marquis strode over to the window and gazed over the city. "Playing this part of Signor has grown weary on my mind Xela. The countless times I had to say 'May Airato guide you' or any variation of the phrase makes me sick. You should understand. Airato did nothing but stand idly by as your family and the only man you loved died around you. Well, no more. Everything is coming together as planned. Fael, I think it is time that we take her to the dungeon."

Fael nodded and beckoned her to follow. Xela obliged knowing resisting wouldn't be possible. They walked to the central staircase that Xela had been to the first time at the temple. They were somewhere in the middle of the structure, the staircase stretching endlessly toward both the heavens and the underworld. She followed Fael as he began the long descent down.

"So how have you been sister?" Fael said without looking at her. "Have the past two years been kind?"

"That's a fairly loaded question don't you think? You ruined my wedding day by forcing me to kill Raynor. Father died due to the injuries inflicted by you. And I can't even say what you did to our mother. Three tombstones now stand as a testament to your deeds, all of them people I loved."

"I remember that day. What a triumph! I only wish I could have stayed to see you shoot your fiancé with my own eyes. Hearing it second hand is never as fulfilling. As for Father, it is disappointing that he had to die before he saw what I have accomplished."

"I see Gabryelle has wasted no time embracing her new role as your minion. Is that what I'm going to become? Just a zombie created to follow your every order? Let her go Fael, she has nothing to do with this."

Fael snapped his fingers and Gabryelle ran to his side like a puppy dog. "This is war Xela. And in war, collateral damage is inevitable. Besides, Gabryelle is better off now than she ever was." Gabryelle twisted her head to Xela and smiled. "And no, something much different is in store for you."

"Gabryelle's current state only gives me one more reason to kill you." Xela glanced down and saw the bottom level approaching with every step. _Where are we going?_ She wondered. "I freed the Grimoire from its protective magic, what more could you want with me?"

"Oh sister, your part is just beginning."

"He's got a master plan for you," Gabryelle said.

The rest of the descent was spent in silence. But even the sound of Fael's breathing made Xela twitch. _He shouldn't even be breathing,_ she thought. _He should be dead._ As the stairs ended on the bottom floor, Fael stopped and faced a blank wall. "Did you know that this tower actually descends past the ground level, that its foundation is rooted in the ruins of a lost city upon which this city is built over?" Fael pressed his palm against the cold stone and a glyph glowed where nothing was before, depicting a circular shape with tendrils slithering from its core. Fael leaned in and whispered, "The black sun rises."

_The black sun rises?_ Xela thought. The wall opened where the glyph had appeared, creating a gateway in the foundation. Beyond was true darkness, a seemingly endless void. Fael extended his hand to Xela.

"Step into the abyss with me sister." Xela pulled her hand away from her brother and stepped into the darkness, listening as the wall shifted back into place. At first she saw nothing, not even the tip of her nose an inch from her face. But slowly her eyes adjusted as the three of them walked farther and farther into the dark. _Truly he is taking me to the underworld,_ Xela thought. Only demons would dare wander where they were going.

Finally her eyes were able to see in the dark, not perfectly, but well enough. Xela breathed in musty, damp air. There was wide open space where they stood, ruins scattered around them. Fael's statements were true. There was an entire city below the Temple. As her eyes darted from structure to structure, she imagined what this city could have been like. Buildings as tall as the Temple, aqueducts carrying water across the city, children running through the streets. But then she returned to the realization that she was standing in that city and it was nothing but rubble. Nothing in recorded history speaks of the land upon which she was standing. As if the buildings, the people, and memories never existed. And if she let Fael succeed, Sol City would follow in its predecessor's footsteps.

"What happened here?" she asked.

"Whatever name this civilization had is long forgotten," Fael said. "It is said that this was the greatest city ever built, a utopia, a piece of the heavens granted to the earth. The gods rewarded the people for their faith by blessing their city with riches, beauty, and some say, the key to long life. But the people quickly forgot the reason their great city had become so blessed and soon, the gods received no praise from their subjects. The people became lazy, gluttonous fiends, worshipping the riches the gods had given them instead of the deities themselves."

_That doesn't sound like a utopia,_ Xela thought. She had seen the unfaithful, those who wavered in their beliefs for the shear pleasure materials provided, stray from the path. But an entire city falling into temptation was something she could not fully believe.

"But one day," Fael continued, "the gods struck back. They sent a fire over the city, burning everything to the ground and scattering the citizens to the ends of the continent. The land was cleansed of the evil the people had created and the gods, disappointed in what mankind had become, departed from our plane of existence, leaving us to fend for ourselves."

Fael folded his hands behind his back and strolled as if he was on a leisurely walk in the city. He was waiting for something. Xela could feel it.

"What is the name of the man traveling with you?" Fael asked. "I hope you haven't given your heart away to another so quickly."

"Why? So you can kill him too? Make him a pawn to carry out your plans? The great and terrible Daemon. Ha!" It felt good, to turn his ego back on his heels. Fael was always proud and mocking him might force him to reveal a weakness. It had always worked during their sparring sessions. "You don't have the spine to carry out your own dirty work. You are nothing more than a coward hiding behind his puppets."

Fael cackled so loudly Xela thought the ruins would come crashing down around her. The echo seemed endless. That was not the reaction she had expected. Fael sighed and took Gabryelle by the hand. "You simpleton. Your hatred towards me has clouded your mind. Dear sister, though I possess great power, I am not the Daemon."

Xela stopped short and gazed through the darkness at Fael's face. Her brother was crafty and had mastered the art of manipulation. It had to be another one of his tricks. "You're lying Fael. It couldn't be anyone else. Only you would have the cunning and sheer madness to formulate such a masterful and convoluted plan." But her brother's face was straight, with no wince of cunning. Even his eyes seemed to be proving her wrong. Fael was more unsettling when he spoke the truth in opposition to his usual mendacious demeanor. A smile crept onto his face with a pleasure he usually suited for misery.

"Sister, I am touched and flattered by your compliments. But I must confess, you are wrong. As I said, the Daemon is someone else entirely. I am merely his first, acting in charge in case of his absence. But fear not Xela, for you will meet him momentarily. Your face to face is long overdue." And in an instant, Fael and Gabryelle faded into the darkness, an echoing cackle the only trace left behind.

_It's a trick to confuse me,_ Xela thought. She stood still in the darkness, waiting. Someone more cunning, stronger, and more evil than Fael? Xela never knew anyone like that. But his face. It was the same face Fael had when he confessed to their mother's murder all those years ago. His face showed no sentiment, the emotion of a marble slab. "He's a liar," she kept telling herself, but the words didn't calm her. "He's just trying to throw me off."

"I'm afraid not," a voice said, seemingly coming from everywhere. Xela spun frantically trying to find where it was coming from. But even with her eyes adjusted, the darkness was disorienting. She could hear the faint sound of footsteps. They were slow and calculated, intimidating. The steps proceeded to get louder and louder until they stopped completely. "It's good to see you Xela," the voice said.

With the sound coming from directly behind her, Xela slowly turned to face her foe. Upon looking on his face, she fell backwards to the floor. She crawled on the cold ground, desperately trying to put distance between herself and him. But he followed her, stepping carefully, maintaining the distance between them.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," the Daemon said.

Xela, struggling to recapture her breath, was barely able to utter the Daemon's name.

"Raynor."

Chapter Eleven

"When your fate greets you at your door,

And it is a fate you do not wish for,

Fight with all your strength.

For the only one that can write a path anew

Is you."

\- Sermon, Signor Avela

Raynor had not aged a minute, as if time had stood still for him the past two years. Even in the darkness, she could see he wore a long hooded robe of a dark color, his cowl sitting on the back of his crown. His long hair that she used to stroke fell its familiar way to his shoulders. Xela couldn't draw a deep breath and she felt her muscles weakening to the point of failure. She felt dizzy, light headed, and nauseous. Her hands trembled as she tried to grasp that the past two years were years living under a veil of misdirection.

No. If she just reached out to him, her hand would surely pass through him as if piercing a curtain of smoke. That would prove he wasn't there. He was a trick, an illusion created by Fael to confuse her. Or it was a dream, a nightmare that Fael conjured to bring the love of her life back from the dead to torture a heart that was unable to forget. Maybe this entire journey was a long, extended dream away from reality and she would wake up curled in her bed back in Laedon. Life would resume normally as it should. Raynor and her parents would still be dead, but it was a life she was familiar with, away from the ventures of the religious elite and madmen.

"Xela I know you," Raynor said, coaxing her with his soft voice. "You are trying to rationalize this entire situation and I'm here to tell you it's a waste of time." Raynor lowered himself into a crouch and cupped his hand on Xela's cheek. His hand felt cold, like it had been submerged in ice for far too long. He was no illusion. She immediately slapped his hand away and scrambled backwards, kicking up dirt and loose stones with each motion.

"Sweetheart, I thought you would be happier to see me."

Xela touched her cheek; the same one Raynor had touched a moment before. It still tingled from his touch. "This is a new low, even for Fael. You look like him, your voice sounds just like his, your touch is soft. You even bear the same scent. But it's all a lie. Raynor is dead, I buried him myself. You are an imposter. You have to be." She struggled to her feet and screamed into the darkness. "How did you do it Fael? How did you make him look like Raynor?"

"I am no imposter," Raynor said, his voice never rising above a heavy whisper. "Listen to the tone of my voice, Xela. You know I am no illusion, no copycat, no doppelgänger. I was there." He stepped forward and Xela countered with a step back. "I was there when I asked you to meet me on the bridge. I was there when we kissed for the first time in the forest behind your house. I was there when I proposed to you in the village square in front of the entire town. And I was there when you shot me with your own arrow, left with little other choice."

Everything he said was true. Only Raynor could know those details of their relationship. "How is this possible? I saw you die. Did Fael resurrect you for a second time?" she asked. "Was his appetite not satisfied two years ago?"

Raynor walked over to Xela's timid form and lifted her chin with his forefinger, smiling as if he could relieve all of her concerns. His smile was a familiar comfort and yet, still chilled Xela to the bone. "I am not resurrected. I am as I was."

"I don't understand," Xela said, lowering her eyes to the floor. Her head was pounding.

"My dear, must we jump into business so quickly? We should enjoy each other's company before you grow angry with me. Do you remember that time I brought an injured wolf home to nurse it back to health? You were screaming at me before I could even explain the situation. Let us discuss what you have been doing with your time, although I am sure I can guess based on the fact you stand before me."

Xela stared into Raynor's eyes. She remembered the days when the tiniest glance into his eyes would pacify her instantly. Here, her confusion swiftly fizzled out in exchange for rage. She wanted answers. "You were dead for two years and yet, here you stand like it was all a dream. I mourned you for two years and I find that my tears were for nothing. No Raynor, I could never enjoy company with a man so self-serving and loathsome. How are you here when I killed you myself?"

Raynor slapped her across the face, so hard that her face hit the ground. She quickly jumped back up, her face throbbing in pain. "Look what you made me do," Raynor said, his voice still retaining its unnervingly soft inflection. "Fine, you want to skip the pleasantries? Let us jump to the gritty details. I will honor your wish Xela. Fael, Gabryelle, let's escort my fiancé to her quarters."

Fael and Gabryelle reemerged from the darkness, seemingly materializing from the air and seized her by her arms. Xela did not struggle. Raynor wouldn't harm her so much as he still needed her for something. Perhaps if he managed to reveal the blueprints of his plan, she could stop him before he could carry it through. They began to escort her through the darkness to who knows where. Raynor lead the way, his footsteps echoing endlessly through the undercity.

"You ask how I stand before you flesh and blood? To be clear, I have not been resurrected and I am no zombie. The very idea is insulting."

"That didn't stop you from turning Gabryelle into one."

"Hey!" Gabryelle chimed in. "I have a brain, I can make my own choices!"

"Of course you can," Raynor said, humoring her delusion. He pulled a dagger from beneath his cloak and handed it to her. "Cut your forearm until I say stop." Gabryelle took the dagger without question and immediately glided the blade across her flesh, blood rising from the incision and dribbling down her arm. She created three other slices on her arm, mimicking each of the previous slashes before Raynor grabbed the dagger from her and returned it to his cloak. "Good girl Gabryelle." Gabryelle smiled as if she had suffered no injury and took hold once again of Xela, her blood still swimming down her arm.

"See Xela?" he said. "She follows orders to the letter, just as I instruct, without question, never leaving room for interpretation or defiance. She is the perfect warrior. She is one of the lucky ones, for she has also been graced with some of my powers as well. But you already knew that ever since she failed at capturing you. But do not think that escaping Gabryelle's kidnapping attempt put a dent in my plans. In fact, I knew she would fail."

Xela heard a few rats skitter by over boots. Even those filthy creatures paled in comparison to Raynor. Where they fed on carcasses, he fed on the living. "Then why bother letting her try?" she said.

"Patience, Xela. We will get there. In regards to me being very much alive, I stand before you because, simply put, I tricked you." The truth stung more than Xela anticipated, though it was an answer that had crossed her mind. "On our wedding, which was a gorgeous occasion by the way, I implemented a plan that had been swimming in my brain for months. Fael had come into contact with me quite some time ago and he proved he could be useful to my ends."

"Around the time when my mother passed away," Xela said. Fael cackled, giving a little squeeze to Xela's arm. "Now I think I understand how my brother came to be with his powers."

"Power always comes with a price," Raynor said. "And when magic is involved, one must make sacrifices in order to achieve what must be achieved. Gabryelle sacrificed her own life for a chance at another. Not of her own will, but it was a sacrifice she made. And Fael here sacrificed the person he loved most of all."

"Mother."

An image of her mother flashed in a second through her thoughts from the last time they were together. They were talking about the engagement and how happy Xela was. Xela thought she was happy too, commending her for refusing to be given away as her father intended. Xela was strong like her mother.

"You know Xela," Fael said, "I really didn't think Raynor was a good man for you, but after meeting with him myself, I truly gave the marriage my blessing. I wept for her sister. I loved her and for that reason, she was the only choice." Xela lurched for her brother, but Gabryelle was able to pull her back.

"Don't look so grim my darling," Raynor said, stroking Xela's cheek. Xela shook her head to shoo Raynor's fingers away. "I helped give that pathetic woman purpose. She made your brother so much stronger. Besides, my time in Laedon was up, the information I had gathered proved fruitful. Fael and I conspired to fake my death so I could move forward with my plan."

"How could you fake your death? I shot you in the heart."

"Well, when you thought Fael was bringing me back to life, I was actually creating a force field for myself, an outer shell if you will, to protect against any physical harm. The shell would take the blow and I would walk away unscathed. Your brother is quite ingenious, as he was the one who provided the idea that you end my life. Or so you would think. I thought the whole scene was acted out perfectly."

_Do his powers have no limits?_ Xela thought. "You monster. I loved you." She couldn't help thinking that the least he could do was actually die for her. But she could not shed one tear. She was too angry and far too many tears had been shed for a man that not only abandoned her but didn't love her and never had. "Why bother? Why bother getting close to me when you surely could have attained the information you were looking for without my involvement?"

Xela tried to think back. Did Raynor ever ask her anything important about the village, maybe about her father? Nothing came to mind.

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong Xela. You were the information I so longed to find. You were the ultimate goal. It was always you." Xela felt her skin crawl as if a thousand beetles were dancing across her flesh. She was sick of people not knowing what her role in this was or simply refusing to tell her.

"I have possessed these powers for a long time," Raynor continued. "I have turned a number of people to my cause and killed just as many who refused my rather generous offer. But still, what I needed most continued to elude me. Nothing I did, no amount of power I achieved could help me. Until I found you, in Laedon of all places, living right under my nose as I searched high and low for you."

"I still don't know what I have to do with any of this," Xela snarled, overwhelmed with frustration. "I retrieved the Grimoire from the sanctuary; its magic has surely worn off by now. What do you want with me?" Xela's frustration reverberated off the walls and Raynor was surely smiling in the darkness, waiting for her outburst to calm.

"You serve a much higher purpose Xela. When I finally found you, I had to be sure everything was true. And one by one the signs appeared that you were the one I searched for. Everyday occurrences that normal people would simply brush off were of the utmost significance. Once it was confirmed, I had to make preparations for this day, when I finally would have you back in my grasp." Raynor raised his hand, indicating them to stop. "We are here."

Xela looked around as dull blue flames were lit upon the pillars surrounding the area with a snap of Raynor's fingers. The veil of darkness was slowly lifting, revealing a large, expansive chamber. In the center sat a stone slab, a structure that looked like a cross between a bench and a bed. And at the far end was a tall statue, depicting a hideous creature Xela did not recognize. The figure was shaped like a demon, deformed and mutated beyond anything humane. It had giant wings, like a bat, attached to its back and a spiked tail protruding from behind, an extension of the creature's spinal cord. Its hands resembled talons more than fingers, long knife-like extensions reaching for flesh to claw into. Two curved horns rested on its head.

"Are you familiar with the Old Gods Xela? Before our time, a council of nine deities governed the laws of the land, long before it was called Sol. Each of the gods had their own worshippers, domain, and rituals. But human-kind betrayed the trust of the Old Gods, choosing instead to worship the gifts they had been given instead of the gods themselves. So the world was cleansed, with but a handful of men left to continue the human race."

"I know this story. The city was burned to the ground." Xela would cross her arms if the Daemon's servants weren't restraining them.

"Airato is one of the Old Gods that returned to this plane to give humans another chance. I believe you are familiar with Gaia as well. Another of the Old Gods, but she never truly left. She was the kindest of the Old Gods and stayed behind with a handful of followers that immediately repented. Together, they formed Eden."

"Then why wage war with Airato and not Gaia as well?"

"Because Airato is the dominant religion in this plane. Why wage war with a goddess shrouded in obscurity? In order to be taken seriously, I focused my efforts on the majority, though I hold quarrels with both deities."

"I think Airato and Gaia will both still endure despite your efforts," Xela asserted. "Even if you manage to destroy Sol City or Eden, their people will remain strong. Faith has a much greater power over people than fear. You will not win Raynor."

Fael and Gabryelle sternly sat her on the stone slab facing the statue, both servants keeping a firm grip on their captive. Raynor stood underneath the shadow of the stone creature, basking in its monstrosity, seemingly empowered by the silhouette above. He stared at her and for the first time since their reunion, he raised his voice.

"You are a fool." His voice reached the intensity of a harsh whisper. "You are not only going to bear witness to their fall, but you will be the instrument that breeds their destruction." He turned swiftly from her and gazed up at the statue. This figure held great importance to Raynor. Even Fael and Gabryelle seemed to be showing reverence to the figure's presence. "Another god has returned to this world," Raynor said.

"Is this your god?" Xela asked. "Certainly you don't need me if you have a god on your side."

Gabryelle giggled. "She truly doesn't know."

"Are you meaning to tell me that Father never told you?" Fael asked, releasing his grip. Fael was truthfully surprised and his surprise quickly twisted to maniacal joy. "Oh Father, what a fool you were. But I guess I shouldn't seem surprised. Father always protected his little girl."

"What a fool." Gabryelle clapped excitedly, loosening her grip on Xela and joining Fael at Raynor's side.

"What is it?" Xela snarled. "What did Father not tell me?"

"The truth about your ancestry," Raynor stated. He continued to speak as he walked slowly toward Xela, like a predator to his prey. His eyes were ablaze with hunger, but Xela remained unsure of its nature. "Your Father never told you who your mother was."

"Madness Raynor! You know my mother. If you recall not five minutes ago, Fael sacrificed her for power."

"Lies, Xela. She was not your real mother. Seems Daddy-dearest had his own secrets. Even from you."

"What? No. She carried me and bore me herself. I know this to be true."

"Untrue," Raynor said. "Your father had relations with a woman before meeting the woman you believe to be your mother. She was no ordinary woman. She possessed great beauty and great power. Your father fled with you to Laedon as an infant when they discovered what you were and what your existence meant. They did this hoping to shield you from what may come."

"Then who do you claim is my mother Raynor?" Xela said. "Tell me!" she screamed after a few moments of silence.

Raynor circled his hands, creating smoke in the space between his palms. The smoke gathered to form a thick cloud of smog. At first, the smog revealed nothing, but an image began to appear. Slowly, Xela could start to make out that it was a woman and as the image grew clearer, the identity of her mother became too apparent. The woman was beautiful with long flowing red hair. She was surrounded in a green aura and dancing fireflies as she leaned down to smell a rose growing by her side.

"Terra?" Xela asked. She clutched at her heart. How could that be? Her father told her everything. How could he have never told her? Xela remembered what Terra's parting words had been upon their first meeting.

You look so much like your father.

Another thought entered her mind. Terra was the daughter of Gaia. If she was indeed Terra's daughter, then what did that mean for her?

"Yes," Raynor said, confirming her thoughts. "Terra is your mother, making you a descendant of Gaia. You are a demigod. And your father was a high priest of Airato. You have the grace of two Goddess's flowing within you. And it is this power that remains to be awakened. Did you ever wonder why you have encountered all means of magic during your travels and never remember even one instance in Laedon? Your father did his best to shield you from that world. But you can see how well that ended up."

Xela stood slowly from the slab, staring into nothingness, her mind becoming clearer. "That's why I was able to escape from Gabryelle's storm cloud before. I was desperate and I must have tapped into something I didn't even know existed."

Fael clapped his hands. "Congratulations sister, you finally figured it out." Xela shot him an evil stare and then gazed on Raynor. He dissipated the smoke with a wave of his hand, wiping Terra's image clean from the air.

"Within you is a power of two goddesses. I need to harness that power to achieve my ultimate goal. I am merely his harbinger. You are going to bring my unholy master back to this plane."

"Who might that be?"

Raynor presented his hand to the demonic statue. "The only Old God that both Airato and Gaia feared. Shaktor. Your body has the potential to hold the essence of a god. And through you, he will return.

"I will never help you."

"When the ritual commences, the way will be opened. Any feelings or misgivings you have about this will be irrelevant. Such is the charge of the Vessel."

Without thinking Xela turned and ran for the abysmal darkness from which she entered this nightmare. She wished she had never learned the true objective behind capturing her alive. Panic had just taken over.

"Gabryelle," Raynor said with a wave of his hand. Gabryelle quickly appeared in Xela's direct path. Xela's reaction was too slow and being caught off guard, fell to the cold ground with a swift strike from her enemy. As quickly as she felt the icy stone beneath her, she was pulled back to her feet, dragged to the statue of the god, and chained to his legs by her wrists. The gauntlets were cumbersome, forcing Xela to let her arms clang to the ground.

"I can't have you escaping before you fulfill your duty," Raynor said.

"I know how to stop you. The Grimoire has a twin. My friends will find it and stop you."

Raynor smiled. "Did you not think that I already possessed that particular tome?" Xela frowned. "Why would I send you to retrieve a tome I needed without thinking of the every situation that may arise?"

Xela struggled under her chains. "Accept your fate Xela. You are the Vessel. You will be the driving force that brings Shaktor back to this plane. He will plunge this world into darkness from which it will never return. Airato and Gaia will be erased from existence. Give up hope, my sweet darling." And with a flourish of his robe, the Daemon and his servants vanished, leaving the Vessel alone in the darkness with only her thoughts.

Chapter Twelve

"Upon first words with the Goddess,

Wyndel threw himself down in prostration.

For only a deity as pure as Airato,

Could sound as inspiring and lyrical."

\- Book of White, Ch. 2, Verses 10-11

Lying in a bed of white sheets, Jerell awoke, his eyes slowly opening as they adjusted to the light that was pouring into the room via the window on his left. He did not know how long he had been asleep, but from the way his body ached with every movement it was longer than a single night. The last thing he remembered was losing control of his powers, failing to keep the Spirit from escaping to the surface. He witnessed everything he had done, through his own eyes, but his will was not his own. He was a puppet in a losing fight with his puppeteer.

Jerell sat up slowly to try to get a bearing on his surroundings. He immediately noticed he was naked, that someone had stripped him of his clothes and placed him in this bed. The bed was small, only able to fit one person comfortably, and was placed in the corner of the small room. Three other beds were lined up against the back wall with the same sheets as his, all empty and neatly made. Was he housed at an inn somewhere? A woman sat on the edge of another bed, her back facing him.

"Where am I?" Jerell asked the woman.

The woman stood and walked over to Jerell's side. "Somewhere safe," Avela said with a forced smile. "At least for now."

"Signor?" Jerell questioned, remembering her face but confused by her presence. But then he remembered she had arrived to pull the twins from harm's way; harm that was entirely his doing.

"Yes it is me Jerell. We have been worried."

"We? I'm sorry about all the questions. My mind seems to be foggy." Jerell touched his eyes and rubbed them, an attempt to jolt his brain into functioning normally. Scraping away the crust around his eyes made him feel more awake. Then he remembered the twins. "Where are Hale and Em?" Jerell asked as he threw quick glances around the room. Perhaps they had been there the whole time without him noticing. He stood, using the sheets to cover his nakedness from the Signor.

"They are fine," Avela said, pushing him back into bed with a decisive hand. "And it's no surprise that your mind needs time to recuperate. The situation I witnessed put your entire being under a great deal of stress. So much so that you have been sleeping for a prolonged period of time. Four days to be exact."

"Four days?" Jerell took a moment to meditate on how long four days was, what events could take place in four days. For four days he had done nothing but walk the dream plane, as the world continued to function without him. _I shouldn't have pushed myself so hard,_ Jerell thought. _I was careless and foolish to think I would withstand the Spirit's influence._

"Yes," Avela reiterated with an air of annoyance. She wasn't one who liked to repeat herself. "We arrived yesterday and the monks here found us a place to rest. Honestly, we weren't sure if you were ever going to wake up. But now that you have, I'm sorry to say there is little time for you to adjust. I can only imagine the situation in Sol City is growing worse."

"Has war broken out?" Jerell asked while jerking himself forward against Avela's hand. "What about Xela? Do we know where she is?" He expected the worst.

"To catch you up, a spy within the Temple has been working for the Daemon this entire time. Who that spy is remains a mystery. Unfortunately, Xela's whereabouts and her condition remain unknown. I would imagine she is alive though. The Daemon wouldn't have gone to such great lengths to capture her to just kill her."

Yes, four days asleep had been entirely too long. The Daemon had used the time wisely. Not only was Xela gone but he had eyes in the Temple, the very structure that housed the faction waging an unofficial war with him. No more time needed to be wasted.

"I will get ready immediately. What is required of me?"

"You?" Avela asked. "Nothing. You failed to keep Xela out of the Daemon's paws. As far as I'm concerned, your duty is to return home. The twins and I are going to speak to Airato." Jerell was thrown by how bluntly the Signor stated their next move. As if speaking to a god was a day to day task. Reminding him of his failure didn't make him feel any better either.

"I still wish to help. Xela's current state, whatever it may be, is my doing. I wish to rectify the situation."

Avela stood looking wary. "Then get ready and meet us in front of the sanctuary. The monks will show you where." Avela turned and stopped. She didn't turn back to Jerell. "You have great power Jerell and are a worthy ally. But what happened put two of my greatest pupils in extreme danger. Keep your powers under control or I won't hesitate to put you down permanently. Their lives mean more to me than yours."

Avela quickly exited the room to the right, leaving Jerell to leap out of bed and dress in a white tunic and brown pants that were left on the bed adjacent to his. Next to the clean clothes lay his Ranger cloak, newly washed and free from dirt and bloodstains. His boots and staff had also been left there as well at the foot of the bed. Once dressed, he left the room and turned right down the hallway, following where Avela had gone minutes before. A pale-skined young man, bald and short, greeted him dressed in a red robe. The monk smiled and gestured his hand to the staircase directly to his left. Jerell nodded and descended the stairs, stepping outside into the morning light.

The sanctuary's land was massive and consisted of three living spaces as well as the sanctuary proper. The sanctuary itself looked like a giant staircase that reached for the heavens, a magnificent stone structure that had been overrun with moss and plant life between its cracks. Monks were everywhere and traveled in small groups, dressed in the same red robes as the one he had seen moments before and with their heads lowered in prayer. As Jerell walked closer to the sanctuary, it seemed to grow, to extend its reach even farther than before, disappearing into the clouds above. Avela stood by the twins at the sanctuary's entrance waiting for him.

"Glad to see you're back with us," Hale said smiling.

"Just please don't try to kill us again," Em said in her typical sarcastic tone.

_I guess the world hasn't changed much in four days,_ Jerell chuckled to himself. But he understood she meant well. "So, what do we do from here?"

"We climb." Avela lead the group up the stairs to the temple's entrance. As they climbed, Jerell looked beyond the sanctuary's borders. The forest that surrounded the area was dense with plentiful green. He was glad to be back near a forest away from the ocean, but he wondered where on the continent the forest lay. The country of Sol was mainly a sylvan landscape and the number of forests spanning the countryside overtook the number of townships and cities.

"Where are we exactly?"

"A forest near the northern border with Gyy. We rode north around the Ivories and then to the east. That doesn't matter now."

At the top, two guards stood post at the entrance, wielding no weapons or armor, garbed in simple red robes. As Avela attempted to pass through the entrance, their inside hands shot out, blocking her path in a criss-cross fashion.

"No one enters the sanctuary without the grace of the Elder," the guards said in unison. Out of the darkness beyond the entrance walked an elderly man, whose time on this plane was reflected in his wrinkles. His long white beard and hair swayed slightly like a pendulum with each step he took and his bulky nose seemed to jump out from his face.

"Someone wishes to enter the sanctuary?" he asked, his voice low and raspy. It seemed the simple act of speaking weighed heavily on his vocal cords. "Only one seeker may enter here, one who is worthy of speaking with the gods."

Avela stepped forward. "I wish to enter here Elder. Do you find me worthy?" The Elder squinted his eyes, closely examining Avela from his distance. Avela stood nervously, twitching her hands and shifting her feet.

"You are a noble woman but I am afraid I cannot allow you to enter. Your heart is in the right place, but anger bubbles beneath the surface. This troubles me." The Elder glanced to his right and pointed to Jerell. "You," he said. "What is your name?"

"Jerell."

"Jerell," the Elder repeated. "A good name. You are afraid, worried for what approaches in the coming days. You fear for the safety of one you care for, perhaps even love. Fear can make us weak, but can also give us great strength and spur within us the courage to overcome it. You alone may enter the sanctuary. Be wary, you must pass the three tests before stepping into the presence of the divine."

Avela turned and nodded, her displeasure transparent. "Go. We need the advice of the divine if we stand a chance at gaining an upper hand." Jerell followed the Elder through the entrance into a pitch dark room as the entrance behind faded away. There was no turning back now. Jerell waited patiently for a torch to be lit so he may see the first test he would have to overcome, but no fire came to life.

"When you cannot rely on your senses, you must rely on faith," the Elder spoke. "An unwavering faith is required for those who seek council with the divine. Traverse the path laid in front of you with no certainty that it is truly there. Only then can you continue on."

Jerell closed his eyes and focused on dulling his senses instead of sharpening them. Faith was something he had a great deal of, as he was raised to do so. His love of Gaia and all her wisdom seemed to flow through him, propel him forward. He took a small step in front of him, feeling nothing solid beneath his boot. He brought his foot back, hesitating taking the next step.

_Traverse with no certainty that it is there,_ he thought. Jerell took the step forward without hesitation. Once his weight was taken off his back foot, he felt a solid fixture beneath him, but he saw only the dark abyss below. He took another step, arriving at the same result. He took another and another, each one pushing him closer to the exit. His faith was creating a bridge across the room, where his doubt would have him fall into the chasm. He continued a consistent stride until the Elder reappeared in front of him, his old face a sign of his success.

"You are strong in your faith," the Elder complimented. "But alas, that was the easiest of your tasks." He waved his hand and a doorway appeared. They stepped through it together, revealing a new chamber, bathed in a warm green light. The room mimicked the forest surrounding Eden to the last detail. Jerell examined the room and knew every branch, every flower, and every bush. Perhaps the chamber was projecting his memories of his home into reality. The Elder walked ahead of him and waved his hand, revealing a sight Jerell was shocked to see. Terra, the wise leader of Eden, stood smiling as a layer of vines ensnared a young girl beside her. Jerell looked to the Elder for answers.

"You are strong in your faith warrior," the Elder stated. "But following faith so blindly has consequences that we should not bear witness to. Will your faith be your guide or your slaver?" The Elder disappeared, leaving Jerell to face his test. Terra reached her hand to him, her eyes as green as emeralds.

"Jerell," she said. "Good. I'm glad you are here. Come see what I have found." The young girl's eyes trembled in fear. She had an air of familiarity about her, but Jerell couldn't place where he had seen her before. He refused to move from his position, even as Terra commanded. "I found a traitor in our midst," she continued. "I want you to kill her."

The girl struggled underneath the vines, forcing the vines to constrict their hostage even tighter. "Please," she said trembling. "Please don't hurt me. I didn't do anything." Jerell looked into Terra's eyes, seeing her enjoyment at the girl's pain.

"No," he protested. "What proof do you have that she has been traitorous?" Terra squeezed her hand, tightening the vines grip on the girl, who was now gasping for breath. Terra's face was blank, devoid of any emotion as her eyes fixated on Jerell. Their intense connection chilled him, for this illusion that was playing Terra's part was striving to manipulate his emotions. Terra had never once provided Jerell reason to doubt her commands, but she never called upon him to kill anyone before. It was against the Ranger's Code to take a life unless in defense.

"Shouldn't it be proof enough that I believe her to be so?" Terra asked, rage rising in her voice. "I will only ask once more. Kill her and rid of us of her treasonous presence. She is a poison that will infect our faith from its foundation. If you truly have faith in Gaia then you will do this."

Terra stood waiting for an answer, her hand clenched in a fist as the girl groaned in pain. Jerell walked with long strides to the entangled girl. Her eyes pleaded with him to spare her. Those eyes were not the eyes of a traitor begging for mercy. They were the eyes of an innocent child wrongly blamed for an act she had no part in.

Jerell unsheathed his dagger, gripping the blade's handle in his sweaty palms. "I won't do it Terra. This isn't right." He cut the vines trapping the child and she took off, fading into mist in the forest the chamber had created. "You are the traitor Terra. This is not Gaia's way."

"How dare you defy me. I carry out my mother's will. My word is law and for breaking it you will pay for your insolence." Terra stormed forward at Jerell, who quickly punctured her heart with his dagger. Now bleeding profusely, the illusion fell to the floor dead, her eyes frozen open in shock. As the last of her life left her, the chamber's environment faded to reveal a room made from gray stone, its walls barren and bleak. Even the smell of pine dissipated leaving a neutral scent behind. The Elder stood at an entrance on the other side of the room, patiently waiting. His smile affirmed that Jerell had passed the test. Though the entire test was an illusion, the act of killing his superior had shaken Jerell spiritually. He prayed he would never be forced to commit such an act in the future.

"Your faith remains a fortress warrior," the Elder praised. "Those who compromise your moral compass, even those dear to us, can cause you to falter and stray from the path. Many individuals have failed, crushed under their own self-deception. Your mind remains clear. But one final test remains before you may speak with the divine." The Elder waved his hand and the last doorway appeared. As Jerell moved to cross through it, the Elder blocked his path.

"Every warrior has a weakness," the Elder warned. "Enemies will exploit that weakness in order to conquer you in battle. That weakness strikes deep in the warrior it plagues, compromising his ability to focus on what lies ahead. This is where I leave you Jerell. Step through the door and confront your greatest fear. By doing so, you will hinder the weapon your adversaries could use against you. Should you succeed, the path will open to you."

The door to the next chamber opened. Jerell breathed in deeply, attempting to slow his heart from racing. He feared like no other that he would lose control of his powers once again and be unable to return, forever awake but buried under the presence of the Spirit. He stepped through the threshold and prepared for what was to come, leaving the Elder behind. He expected to find a doppelgänger of himself drunk with power, enslaved to an entity thousands of years old. But what appeared was not what he expected.

The chamber was a blank, grey room, similar to the previous room. Nothing could distract him from the body that lay in the middle of the room. The corpse lay on its side facing away from him, shielding the identity of the deceased. He smelled the air as an aroma swirled around his nostrils _. It smells like a meadow,_ Jerell thought. _Like grass mixed with wild flowers._ It was but this small detail that clued him in on who the individual was. He rushed forward, falling to his knees as he turned the corpse to face him. And as he feared, the face of Xela stared back at him, eyes frozen open in terror, her face pale white.

_My greatest fear,_ Jerell thought. _My greatest fear is losing her. Never being able to tell her. Never hearing her voice again._ Jerell released his tears silently, pulling Xela close to him. He felt no heartbeat and her body felt cold as ice. He gently placed her back on the floor, his tears slowly falling from his cheek to hers.

"Well you only got it half right." Jerell looked quickly to see himself looming over Xela's body, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes and veins glowed green. "You were the one that did this to her."

Jerell lifted himself from the ground to his feet, staring at his mirror image, bathed in power. "I would never hurt her!" he yelled pointing to Xela's corpse. This replica was of his likeness, but twisted. Though its appearance matched Jerell's exactly, its demeanor was off-kilter. The Spirit had corrupted the body it inhabited. He expected this, but he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Oh but you would," the doppelgänger retorted back. "You have lost control of your powers once before, so who is to say you won't again? And when you do, we will take control once again. And trust us when we say, our dominance will be uncompromising."

"I will never do this. Never. Be gone!" Jerell screamed and lashed out with his staff. His darker double jumped into the air, hovering above the ground.

"You cannot fight us Jerell," it taunted. The illusion dived for the floor, pinpointing Jerell's position. He leaped to the side and recovered to his feet, only to be tackled to the ground. His mirror image hung over him, pinning his wrists down. "Give in. Give in. Give in." Jerell felt his mind descending into madness, his doppelgänger's voice like a metronome. Jerell managed to squeeze his legs free, flipping his clone over his head. Jerell scrambled to his feet and grabbed his staff.

"You will taste her blood," the look-alike barked. Jerell charged and landed a blow to his mirror image's head, sending him to the ground. Jerell's mind calmed as his clone faded from his view. He quickly shot a glance to the location of Xela's body and that too was gone.

I will never hurt Xela. I will make sure of that.

Jerell heard a lock click, hearing the final door creak open. Without hesitation he pushed through into a small room, wishing to leave that cursed chamber behind. The room was illuminated by a single blue crystal placed upon a small stone altar. Not knowing what else to do, Jerell kneeled to the crystal, focusing his energy on calling out to Gaia or whoever would listen. The crystal most certainly was a communicator between him and the divine.

"Jerell," a faint voice called.

"Jerell," a different voice called out.

Two separate voices, distinctly female, repeated his name over and over in an alternating echo. Jerell opened his eyes and he found himself in an open plain, not the altar within the sanctuary. A clear blue sky hung above his head and green grass flourished underneath his knees. He rose and looked around, seeing nothing. Everything was still, time in a constant state of tranquility, as if it did not exist. The horizon stretched on forever in all directions, never impeded by mountains, hills, or even cities. An endless plain of green paralleled by an endless sky of blue.

"Jerell," two voices said in sync. He spun around and two women stood before him. One had long wavy red hair and was bathed in a luminescent green light. The other had long blonde hair, dressed in white robes, and was surrounded by the purest of white. Jerell felt his knees weaken as they could be no other than Gaia, the goddess of the earth, and Airato, goddess of light. Both goddesses coexisted.

"Jerell," Gaia spoke softly. "My child, we haven't much time."

"Please tell me what I should do," Jerell said.

"Xela is more important than you have previously understood," Airato said, her voice as light as the melody of a harp. "The Daemon has discovered her secret and plans to exploit it to bring chaos back to the world."

"What secret?" Jerell asked desperately.

"She is my granddaughter," Gaia said. The news hit Jerell like the broad end of a sword. "Terra is her mother."

"And she also has my power flowing through her because of her father," Airato continued. "This makes her very unique. And it is this reason the Daemon has sought her out. She is the Vessel."

"The Vessel?" Jerell began, struggling to make a sentence amidst the daunting revelations. "What does the Daemon plan on doing with her?"

Even as divine beings, the two goddesses couldn't hide their concern.

"He is going to use our combined essences stored within her to summon back another divine being," Gaia answered. "Only he is not as kind as we are. He is our brother. He is Shaktor, the god of discord."

"Please no questions," Airato said raising her hand. "We haven't the time to fully explain. What you need to know is that the Daemon must not be allowed to summon Shaktor. If he succeeds, even we cannot bring the world back from the void."

"The crystal on the altar," Gaia said, "Take it when you depart. It will serve you in ways we do not have the time to explain right now."

"But wait," Jerell said. "I must ask you for one favor." If they were able to grant it, he would feel more secure in the coming war.

"You want us to bind your powers," Gaia predicted. "Your greatest fear is that you will lose control again and kill Xela. You care for her. You love her."

"Yes," Jerell confirmed. "I don't want to hurt her."

"I cannot bind your powers Jerell," Gaia admitted. "Even with my power, the Spirit is a collection of your ancestors and their essences. The Spirit is almost as powerful as a god thanks to spending millennia absorbing souls. Your powers are more valuable to Xela than you can imagine. You need them more than you know. Trust me Jerell, when the time comes, you will understand why I am telling you this."

"You must depart for Sol City immediately," Airato said. "Xela is held prisoner by the Daemon underneath the Temple of the One. Her essence is weak, but we can still sense her despite the Daemon's attempts to misdirect us. He grows stronger with each passing day, but so does she."

"Go Jerell," Gaia said, "and rescue Xela before she unwillingly releases hell on this plane. We believe in you."

Jerell blinked and he was back in the sanctuary, as if he had never left. Perhaps he hadn't left physically, only his spirit had met the two goddesses. He retrieved the crystal and placed the stone in his pocket. He turned to leave and saw a black figure standing at the exit, holding a sword in each hand. And without a word, the figure charged forward and attacked.

***

"What the hell happened here?" Avela asked upon returning to the sanctuary's entrance. She hadn't been gone for five minutes and someone or something attacked the monks guarding the entrance, leaving them in a mangled heap on the stone. Em and Hale were hunched together on the ground, beaten and bruised, but not nearly in as dire a condition as the monks.

"Signor," Hale groaned. "A figure clothed in black came out of nowhere and ambushed us. It was looking for you."

_Why me?_ Avela thought. She unhitched her shield from her back, sliding her right hand into the holster and positioning the shield at her front. _A good defense is the best offense,_ she thought. Carefully stepping over the corpses, she entered the sanctuary.

The chamber Avela entered was ordinary and plain. She wouldn't be confronted with any tests of her own. She briskly spanned the chamber and came upon an identical room. Beyond she could hear a dull crash, a body smashing against something hard. Avela edged forward as quietly as her heavy boots would allow. Pushing herself up against the wall between the second and third chambers, she peeked around the side to see the small room that lay beyond the third.

It was small and two figures were present. Jerell lay on the ground against the opposing wall. The second figure was clad in black clothes and stood over Jerell.

"Who are you?" Jerell said, so faint it barely registered to Avela's ears. Avela hugged the wall as she crossed into the third chamber, sneaking along the edge to avoid being seen by Jerell's attacker.

"Damn it," the assailant cursed. Avela winced as the sound of two blades scraping against each other echoed from the chamber. Battling with two swords was a difficult style to master, but when done so, became an eloquent, graceful and deadly fighting technique. This assassin was skilled. "You are not my target. Where is Signor Avela?"

Avela shimmied along the wall, glancing around the corner into the glowing blue room. The visitor had straddled Jerell across his waist and held his two long blades crossed over his throat. Jerell was barely breathing, every inhale done with calculated vigilance to prevent the swords from cutting his neck.

"I don't know where she is," Jerell said. "She was outside the sanctuary when I was granted entry." Avela could see the assassin tense up, the blades vibrating slightly due to frustration.

"The Signor was not outside as you claim," the assassin said. "Where. Is. She?" Avela stepped out from her corner and took two steps into the room, purposefully making her presence known.

"Looking for me?" she asked. Avela walked forward as the assassin jumped from the floor to meet his target. Avela met her assassin with a strong right cross with her shield, landing a blow directly in the attacker's veiled face. As the black figure scrambled backwards in pain, Avela pulled Jerell from the floor. "Go. I'll deal with this." Jerell nodded and took off for the entrance.

The assassin had recovered from Avela's first blow and stood ready to fight. "Not quite going the way I imagined," the assassin admitted. "But we arrive at the same destination. Your blood on my sword." The assailant charged forward, thrusting both swords as one for Avela's torso. She countered by stepping back to a defensive stances, lowering her shield in the blades path. The weapons met with a loud clang.

"Have to do better than that," Avela taunted. Taking a sword in each hand, the assassin attacked, swiping his blades in a vertical motion one after the other, each attempt meeting the metal shield. Avela backed away into the third chamber and lunged forward, catching her aggressor off-guard by landing a concentrated blow to the torso. Recovering quickly, the assassin rolled to the side and swung his right hand as he maneuvered, finding flesh on Avela's left calf. Avela yelped at the sudden pain, retreating backwards towards the right side of the chamber.

_He's good,_ Avela thought. _Very good. I don't know how long I can last._ The gash on her leg was excruciating and she could feel the blood running down her leg into her boot. Running was no longer an option as she was now one leg slower than him. All she could do was stand her ground.

"Whoever told you a mere shield is a suitable weapon is severely lacking in judgment," the assassin said. "What good is a weapon that can't make a man bleed?" Avela rushed forward through the pain in her leg, ramming the shield into her adversary, sending him sprawling across the floor. "How about one that can break your ribs?" Avela did not leave time for her opponent to rise. Rushing as best as she could over to his side, she sent a swift kick into his torso, forcing him to roll over in pain. She kicked again, forcing him against the stonewall.

Lifting the assassin with his collar, Avela removed his veil with determination, revealing the face of an average man. He scowled at her, baring his yellow teeth as if he were an animal. "I am no pacifist, but I do not wish to kill you," Avela said. "Give up your bounty and I will let you live. I have no quarrel with you, just with your contractor." The man spit in Avela's face, smiling with a likeness of a hyena. Avela head-butted the assassin, grunting as her skull met his face. With her opponent effectively dazed, she tossed him across the room, his head smashing against the ground upon impact. The assassin did not move. _Unconscious,_ Avela thought. _No point in spilling his blood._

Why was he sent to kill her? The Daemon had a part in this but how did he know she had left the Temple? She had informed no one of her departure. Perhaps the Sleeper had his hands in much deeper than she thought.

She crossed the remaining two chambers before re-emerging into the midday sun. A few monks had gathered to handle their fallen brothers. The Elder stood supervising the situation, shaking his head in sadness. Avela walked over to the elderly man, wishing only to comfort him. "Your condolences are appreciated," the Elder said without looking away from the corpses. "Is the assassin inside the sanctuary?"

"He is unconscious," Avela confirmed. "You may do with him as you wish."

"My guards were specially trained to protect this hallowed ground. To see them quelled so easily disturbs me. Dark powers are at work here." The Elder glanced down the staircase at Avela's companions. Hale was tending to his sister's wounds as Jerell fiddled with a palm-sized blue crystal in his hand. "Go to your friends," the Elder said. "You must be on your way. You have much to do." Avela nodded and descended the stairs.

Jerell faced Avela and, upon seeing her wound, frowned with great worry. "Your leg needs to be bandaged."

"I'm fine Jerell," Avela said. "It's not like I haven't been in combat before. A little blood never hurt anyone." Avela put most of her weight in her right leg, hiding the pain that shot through her left. But Jerell was right. Ten years ago she would have been able to walk through the pain but her leg would need to be tended to as soon as possible.

"Here," Hale said. He placed his hands on her wound as his hands glowed, the wound sealed tightly as if it had never been there. "The soreness will recede in a few hours." Avela nodded in thanks.

"I have spoken to the gods," Jerell said. The words stung Avela. Her heart still weighed heavy over the Elder's decision to deny her passage. She was on the holy council, one of the Four. And instead, Jerell, a man with no faith in Airato or her beliefs, was granted entry. But to be frivolous with what little time they had would yield disastrous consequences. She pushed her feelings down.

"What did they say?" she asked.

"They know why Xela is so important to the Daemon. It's not good. She has untapped power that the Daemon plans to use for his own devices. To resurrect a god to be exact."

"Resurrect a god? Then our top priority is to rescue her. She is more important than we realized."

"The gods granted me this crystal." Jerell lifted it to show Avela, seeing the crystal reflect the sun's rays outward while glowing brightly from a powerful magic within. "It is some sort of instrument. The gods gave them to me to help in the fight against the Daemon."

_Thank heavens Airato has come through for us!_ Avela thought. "What does it do?" she asked.

"Don't know. But it's important to the fight. They knew where Xela was taken. She is being held underneath the Temple of the One in Sol City."

"Underneath the Temple? How?"

Commotion from the sanctuary's entrance interrupted their conversation. Avela looked up as her assassin stood defiantly at the top of the staircase, the head of the Elder in his left hand, both of his swords in his right. His face was splattered with blood.

"You should have killed me," the assassin said, tossing the Elder's skull down the steps. The dismembered face bounced gleefully down the staircase, rolling over to Avela's feet. Even in death, the Elder showed no fear. Avela looked up and scowled at the murderer, who smiled at his handiwork like an artisan to his masterpiece. "This man's death hangs on your head Signor. You may as well have been the one to cut through his flesh."

Avela unhitched her shield once again, but was met with laughter.

"You should focus your energy on what's to come," the assassin said. "Certainly there is no way I can defeat you on my own. Not with your friends here to back you up. Luckily, I am prepared for a predicament such as this." Taking one of his swords, the assassin inverted the blade to his torso and penetrated his stomach.

What the hell did he do that for?

"The Daemon will have me killed for failing to end your life," the assassin said as he spat blood through his teeth. "May as well take you down with me." In the distance, Avela picked up a high pitched wail, followed by other growls, animalistic and fiendish in nature. "My blood was blessed before I was deployed for this contract. With my blood spilled, every demon in a twenty mile radius will flock here, heeding the call of our master." The assassin dropped to the ground dead, his blood trickling from his wound.

With her heart racing, Avela turned to Jerell, whose expression affirmed her panic. They didn't stand a chance against a hoard of demons. Another screech pierced the air, much greater in volume than before. And that's when Avela spotted them. A group of banshees flying over the top of the sanctuary, their ghostly visage's more terrifying than she imagined. Their faces seemed more animal than human, aching to spill blood. The sun's rays glided through their forms as if passing through mist.

But banshees were not the only entities that they were contending with. Swarms of other phantoms joined their fellow spirits as they descended on the sanctuary. Demons emerged onto the open dirt of the complex, different varieties with claws, talons, and fangs, and different colors, all deteriorated to a faded, lifeless version of their original tone. These creatures too, desired blood.

Em and Hale quickly joined her and Jerell. "What do we do?" Avela said. "We can't fight all of them." A beastly roar echoed from the forest, followed by another and another tenfold. A pack of blood lions broke through the forest and stormed the demon horde. As they clashed, a single lion approached Avela, Jerell, and the twins. On its side were three scars made by three daggers.

Avela watched as Jerell glowed green and touched the lion, smiling. "He's here to help," he said. "As thanks for sparing his life." The lion emitted a small growl between its teeth. "Get on. He is going to get us out of here." Jerell raised the ground beneath them to align with the lion's back and they leaped to mount the beast.

"To Sol City then," Avela said. The lion roared and bounded back into the forest as the battle between beast and demon raged on behind them.

Chapter Thirteen

"And in the darkness of my prison,

I prayed earnestly to the Goddess

And she answered with a warm light.

I knew then I would be saved."

\- Book of White, Ch. 7, Verses 29-30

Raynor circled Marquis's office eyeing all the books that took shelter on his walls. For a man of Marquis's position, he kept his office small. A circular room circumscribed with books and a roaring fire seemed more than fitting for a scholar, but not a Signor of Airato. For a man who craved power, Marquis kept his private quarters simple. Raynor smiled to himself as Marquis's eyes followed him mercilessly.

"You seem suspicious Marquis," he said. "Or is it that you have spent too much time glancing over your shoulder at all your past deeds?"

"I respect your power Raynor, but I do not trust you."

Raynor reached a finger out to touch the bindings of the books. With each step, his finger transferred to the next book from the last, leather bindings shifting to frail parchment to sealed scrolls. "I hear you sent an assassin after your colleague. Avela, I believe."

"With the other Signors dead, our plans will not be forced to continue in the shadows. I am tired of hiding."

"I grow weary of skulking in the shadows too Marquis. But do not let impatience cloud your judgement. I have planned this for years and I will not accept any mistakes." Raynor stopped as his finger caressed the binding of a powerful tome. The binding was fraying, but the power stored within was stronger than ever. "This is it." He removed the book from its place and smiled. "So much power in these pages."

With a swift toss, the manuscript entered the fire, but refused to hinder to the flames. Raynor pointed to the resistant book and expelled smoke from his fingertips. The smoke drifted along the floor to the hearth and entered the flames. The fire grew with great invigoration, fueled by supernatural power. The tome could resist no more and was quickly eaten by the flames.

"This tome was the only way my ritual could be undone. Now there is no way to stop me."

"With its twin destroyed, the Grimoire's magic cannot be undone," Marquis added. "Victory is assured."

Raynor's skin tingled at an approaching presence. Someone was coming from deep under the city through his domain. _It looks as though the rescue party has arrived,_ Raynor thought. "Prepare your guards Marquis. We have company."

***

Xela lay motionless on the floor of the dungeon below the Temple of the One. She didn't know how many days had passed because her sense of time was fractured. The sun didn't touch this far below the surface. She could only guess by the number of times Gabryelle was sent to feed her. She estimated she had been prisoner for at least a week, maybe eight days. But time didn't matter. She knew Raynor couldn't proceed with his plan without her, as he seemed confident he could use her body to summon a god.

She had spent the majority of time during her incarceration meditating, a practice she had abandoned after Raynor died. Or when she thought he died. She still wasn't used to saying he wasn't dead.

For days she would sit and focus on Airato. In the darkness of the under city, she hoped Airato hadn't abandoned her as Xela had done before. She felt herself growing stronger with each session, inching closer to a power Raynor believed to be untapped. When she descended into the depths of her mind, a faint voice guided her along. The voice never named itself, but Xela sensed it was Airato. The goddess of justice was the captain leading her down the river to an unexplored ocean of resource, of strength she could use against Raynor and his dastardly plans.

During the week Xela sat in the dark, she had been coached to make her powers manifest physically. Airato's lessons gave her access to an ability to create weapons from her spiritual energy. She could summon a dagger to her palm or a sword to her side, but she still lacked the ability to make use of the weapon. Xela was growing anxious and hated being forced to wait as Raynor forwarded his plan.

She looked up at the looming statue above her. Shaktor was an abomination, a hideous creature that didn't belong in the same category as Airato or Gaia. He was a demon. Even though her spirit remained intact, Xela felt as if Shaktor's presence was already trying to invade her, craving the physical form that kept him at bay from the world. He was calling out to her. Or she was hallucinating and going mad in the eternal darkness that was her dungeon.

Her nightmares were manifesting before her eyes, the key players shifting into the foreground. As each day passed, or each period of time she estimated as a day, Raynor's madness was coming closer to fruition and she had no plan to stop him. _As long as one flicker of light exists, we can never give up hope._ These words mocked her; the flicker of light that she strongly believed in was slowly and strategically choked out of being as she waited. Her meditations had finally taught her to create her own light and today would be the day of her escape. She could feel it.

Xela closed her eyes as she sat up as well as she could with her restraints weighing her down. Soon Airato spoke to her in a whisper.

"Focus Xela," Airato said, her voice like the melodic strumming of a lyre. "Visualize the weapon in your hand. Feel the hilt; understand the weight it will have, the bluntness of its strength. Now make it manifest."

Xela felt a hilt drop into her palms, the weight of the hammer she envisioned firmly in her grasp. She smiled as Airato continued. "I must leave you now Xela. Trust in yourself as I have in you."

As Xela felt Airato leave her, she opened her eyes and lifted the hammer she had created. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the hammer to her chains, shattering a section of the links binding her left hand to Shaktor's statue. Repeating the same action, she freed her right hand, leaving only the gauntlets as a testament to her bondage.

_Thank you Airato,_ she thought, steadying her weak legs as she stood. In the darkness she heard footsteps approaching and she steadied herself for anything. Four figures materialized from the darkness as their visages came under the dull blue flames flickering in her chamber.

"Xela!" Hale said. The teenage mage rushed forward and thrust his arms around Xela. The young boy squeezed so tightly Xela had difficulty breathing. Jerell, Avela, and Em looked on with just as much relief as Xela felt seeing them alive.

"You are alive," Jerell said. "I'm so sorry it took us so long."

"Better late than never," Xela said with a smile. "How did you find me?"

"Airato," Jerell said. "She and Gaia told us everything about the Daemon's plan and what role you play. Airato directed us toward your essence, even though it was deep underground."

"You should be thanking us," Em said. "We crawled through sludge and waste just to rescue you."

"My, my, my," Gabryelle's voice taunted. "Seems we have a new breed of rats down here to contend with." With each step from the darkness, Gabryelle's weaponized chains clinked together. She crossed her arms as her four guards stepped out from behind her, wielding their weapons, prepared to fight. "Clever rats, but rats still the same."

"This coming from someone without a heartbeat," Xela said.

Gabryelle unhooked her chains, preparing for the fight herself. She wasn't going to back down. "Very witty Xela. Someone's been waiting to use that for days."

Mimicking Gabryelle's aggressive stance, she too readied herself. She was weak but her spirit never felt stronger and she wouldn't give up without a fight. She focused on the power within and daggers came to her hands. They flickered like a flame gasping for air. She could feel her companions' eyes on her as she unveiled her new abilities.

"Oh come on Xela. In your current state, you wouldn't last against a boy with a wooden sword. Boys, time to dance." Gabryelle whipped her chains into motion as her guards charged forward. Avela struck first, swiping her shield to the left, knocking two of the men down immediately. She quickly engaged another incoming attacker, blocking his first strike with her deadly targe.

Jerell's staff flowed like water, knocking his assailant away before Jerell himself pounced in for an attack. Em chose her ice daggers, slashing violently at her enemy, who couldn't decipher how best to proceed. Hale levitated his daggers in his usual style, attacking his opponent by flanking him from behind. And Xela stared at Gabryelle who stood relaxed with her chains whirling by her side. She looked entirely too relaxed.

"End of the line Gabryelle."

"Oh no," Gabryelle mocked, pretending to be lightheaded by holding the back of her hand to her forehead. "The mighty Xela is going to kill me." Gabryelle straightened herself, making herself appear soldier-like. "Give it your best shot."

Gabryelle puffed into smoke, dissipating into the dank air. Her cackle echoed through the chamber, her voice disembodied and god-like through the clanging of metal. "When will you ever learn Xela? We are always one step ahead of you." As each of her friends struck a final blow, their enemies also disappeared into mist, as if they had never been there. Puzzled, they all shared a gaze filled with anxiety. Xela's blood started to pump with adrenaline. Her gut was telling her to run.

_Decoys,_ Xela thought. "We need to move." The Daemon was omnipotent while they were in his arena. "Follow me!" Em quickly created her candelabra, but Xela quickly motioned her to put the flames out. "No, we don't need to draw attention to ourselves." Xela tried to recall the foot patterns she had taken to the chamber and reverse them with no success. Splashes of water from fleeing feet mixed with heavy pants filled her ears. Gabryelle had gone silent, stalking her prey with quiet patience.

With her mind racing, the maze of the dungeon seemed unsolvable. She glanced around in the darkness, recalling nothing of their location. It was a long shot but she had an idea. "The black sun rises," she yelled, her voice carrying through the void. In the distance, a small opening appeared with a flood of white light. With haste, the group ran for the exit, embracing the light as it covered them. But the light was not the only thing that greeted their arrival.

Marquis stood with more than a handful of elite guards at his side and he looked genuinely pleased. "Avela, how good of you to return to us. We were all worried when you disappeared so suddenly and without a word."

"The Grimoire has been retrieved." Avela pulled the tome out and Marquis's eyes lit up like a candle.

"No!" Xela said. Marquis snatched the Grimoire from Avela's grasp. "He's a traitor." Marquis smiled as the veil of deception was lifted.

"You..." Avela said. "You sent the assassin after me."

"Now now Signor, as protectors of our faith we need not get so testy. We must hold our emotions in check if we wish to serve Airato with our best foot forward."

"How dare you speak of Airato you snake," Xela said.

"Oh, suddenly our faith is restored in the goddess of justice?"

"Where are you keeping Korbal and Cerena?" Avela said.

"They are being dealt with as we speak. Perhaps their suites weren't as fortified as recently believed."

Avela took her shield and with a powerful swing, knocked Marquis across his face, sending him and a few of his men to the ground. "Move!" Avela commanded as she swiped more guards off their feet. Xela sped up the central staircase, leaving the others in the dust. The central staircase could easily take the wind out of anyone, but with adrenaline surging through her body, she ascended the stairs through her throbbing muscles to the 20th floor. Her companions followed a few steps behind with Marquis's guards on their tail.

Xela decided on Cerena's suite first. Unlike Avela and Korbal, she had not seen battle in decades, making her the most vulnerable. Jerell pushed Xela back and kicked in the door, only to be greeted by a trail of blood from the entrance leading into the bed chamber. The apartment smelled of death and the typically white rugs were stained with a crimson trail that Xela knew would lead to grief.

"Don't let the twins see," Xela directed Jerell.

Avela pushed her way past Xela and into the bedroom. There they found Cerena's body in a bloody pool. She had been stabbed multiple times in the chest. Xela stepped beside Avela and placed a hand on her superior's shoulder. "Marquis will pay for this."

"She was the kindest person I knew." Xela felt Avela's body tighten.

"We have to make sure Korbal is okay," Jerell said from the other room. Xela left Avela with her fallen friend and shifted into the hallway. Korbal stood covered in blood, his broadsword caked in the crimson gore of a defeated adversary. Marquis had underestimated his peers and their abilities.

"Signor!" Korbal lifted his chin and immediately his eyes welled up when gazing upon the twins, his students. He laid his blade against his cloak and carefully wiped the blood away. Sheathing his sword, he fell to one knee.

"Em, Hale, it is good to see you alive and well."

"Signor, it's time we go," Avela said. "We have all been played."

"We will go. Marquis will pay for his crimes later." Lifting himself from the ground, his face shifted from relief to worry. "Where is Cerena?"

"Cerena wasn't as lucky."

"Damn. Did you give her the rites?"

"Yes. She can rest in peace. Come. Reinforcements will be here soon."

"I can help you escape!" a voice from the corner piped up. The gnome Xela had encountered on her previous visit to the temple peeked out. He looked just as cunning as he did when he introduced his levitator or elevator or whatever invention he had tried out on her. Though his demeanor here showcased concern instead of whimsy.

"Quint, what are you still doing here?" Avela questioned. But she left no time for an answer. "Can you really get us out of here?" The rattling of armor echoed down the hallway, signaling the advance of the elite guard. Xela glanced to her right to see a handful of the guards charging them down.

"We have company." Hale reached out and flicked his hand skyward, pulling the red rug from underneath the men's feet. The guards groaned as they returned to the floor face first.

"That should buy us some time."

The gnome, Quint, swiftly lead them to his contraption that Xela despised. _Great. Another trip down the devil's trap,_ she thought. Quint had made the platform much larger than the previous model. The base could now fit everyone, though it was a tight squeeze. Xela's gaze never left Quint due to an overwhelming sense of anxiety and distrust.

"Hold on tight everyone," Quint said. As he clapped, Xela and Jerell braced themselves. The levitator dropped and within seconds arrived at the exit to the Temple. Again, Marquis was waiting for them and Gabryelle stood by his side.

"You are not going anywhere," Marquis said. "The Daemon knew an attempt like this would be made and he organized a preemptive order in the event that it did.

Avela stepped forward, showing little patience in Marquis's games. "You are a fool Marquis. The Daemon is only going to bring chaos to the world. Once he succeeds, you will no longer prove useful. You will be expendable."

"We shall see how expendable I am when Sol City is placed under my command." Avela rushed forward to bash Marquis like last time, but Gabryelle whipped her chain, knocking Avela to the side with a blow to the head. The guards rushed in to engage Xela and her friends.

Xela looked on as the skirmish took over the hall. Korbal decided Gabryelle was his game and was fending off her wild chain attacks with his sword. Jerell and Avela took on a guard together, exchanging blows with the overwhelmed patrolman. Hale and Em were dealing with their adversaries accordingly using their magic. But Marquis had disappeared. His cowardice sent him into hiding. With her strength slowly returning to her, Xela summoned her dagger quickly and joined Korbal in the fight with Gabryelle.

Korbal, having been in the fight longer than Xela, lost his focus and was struck down by a heavy chain, leaving Xela a solo fighter.

"Here we are again Xela." Gabryelle smiled as she swung her chains faster, piercing the air with each rotation. As she whipped a chain to the left, Xela dodged with a swift roll to the floor and quickly leaped to Gabryelle. With a strong kick, Gabryelle hit the marble wall and Xela held the glowing knife to her throat.

"There is no escape," Gabryelle laughed underneath the dagger's blade. "You can never escape." Xela focused her energy and elongated her dagger to a long sword. With a swift cut, Xela severed Gabryelle's head. As her head fell to the floor, Xela noticed the look of laughter in her former friend's face.

As if on cue, Raynor's voice rang through the atrium. "A spirited effort Xela," he said, "but spirit isn't enough to attain victory." Xela turned to see Raynor standing at the foot of the staircase, with Fael by his side. And her eyes widened in fear when she saw the object her brother clutched in his devilish fingers.

Fael stood patting the cover of the Grimoire with his nails. "Now we have all we need to complete the ritual." Xela froze, never straying her eyes from the tome. "You've lost sister. Time to face your destiny."

"Forget the fight!" Jerell yelled. "We need to get Xela out of here!" Leaving their enemies behind, the group rushed out of the temple, spilling into the streets of the city. They had to get away from Raynor. He could not be allowed to read the incantation in Xela's presence. "Split up. Flee to Eden. My men will allow you entry. We must survive to fight for tomorrow." Jerell grabbed Xela's hand and together they took off away from the Temple in the direction of the marketplace, the twins and the Signors in another, with only the hope of reuniting in Eden. They had finally come together and as swiftly as they had, they had been broken apart.

Chapter Fourteen

"Life is constructed as a circle;

Those who do good will be rewarded

And those who do ill will be punished.

Those who betray, beware,

For those who stab others in the back,

Will receive those bloodied knives

Tenfold in their own."

\- Book of Black, Ch. 5, Verses 21-22

"Keep going!" Jerell said, hastening Xela to keep up her pace. The sun had set on the open plains of Sol, but their pursuers didn't rest with the sun. They thrived on the darkness. With Jerell and Xela now in their opponent's arena, the need for caution was crucial to survival.

The multitude of growls that followed behind them was testament that they would not be able to escape so easily. The Rangers never ventured this far from Eden so they would be of no help. They had relied too much on luck as it is. The blood lions arriving at the sanctuary. Caelin choosing their side in the fight. These things were fortuitous, but not based in skill. It would be the present that would prove if they had the will to survive.

Lifting his hand, he forced the earth a few feet behind him to rise as a barrier. A few growls faded into yelps, but still the horde pressed on. Jerell repeated the movement again, attaining the same result _. I can't keep this up,_ he thought. _I can't risk overexerting myself again._

"How's it going?" Xela called from the front.

"Took out a few but there are still a great deal of them. Any ideas?"

"We could fight them," Xela said. "It sounds better than running."

Jerell couldn't help but smile. "This coming from the woman who backed off a cliff upon seeing a banshee's face."

"I'm not scared of demons and ghosts anymore. They just piss me off."

"Glad to hear it. I'm in."

Xela skidded to a stop, paused for a moment, and summoned her dagger. Across the battlefield flew a dagger of light, striking a nasty red demon with bear-like features in the sternum, if it even had one. The demon stopped short, causing the demons behind it to collide together. More kept charging, jumping over the crumbled heap or crushing their former allies as they traversed over them. Jerell didn't know how she had attained such abilities, but her power seemed to be growing.

Jerell closed his hands into fists and alternated pounding them down at his sides, sending shockwaves through the ground and knocking the monsters off their feet. He slammed his fists together, up heaving the earth beneath the demons' feet and rebounding them into the air. He could hear the snapping of bone as one by one, the fiends plummeted back into the unforgiving earth. Yet still, more demons approached, their charge undeterred by Jerell's display of power.

"How many of them are there?" Xela said.

"More than should be chasing a couple refugees. The Daemon refuses to let you escape."

"Desperate or not, we can only do so much against an army." She threw another dagger, splitting the head of a giant yellow demon. The ground shook slightly as the demon fell dead to the ground.

The sound of hooves faded into their ears, slowly picking up in volume as a creature approached from behind. Jerell spun around, ready to engage an enemy when a familiar face greeted him.

"Nestor," he said. Jerell heard the sound of blade sinking into flesh as Xela released another dagger into the demon mob. Xela turned around and smiled at the sight of her steed.

"I have never been happier to see you Nestor." Nestor replied with a loud whinny, a sense of urgency behind his cry. Xela climbed on his back and pulled Jerell up behind her. The demons were close. "Let's go boy." Nestor took off toward the forest, a tiny black speck that barely stood out in the pale light of the full twin moons.

"The demons have stopped," Jerell said, watching as the demons began to linger farther behind them. "That was too easy." _If they stopped, what's coming?_ The sound of Nestor's hooves hung in the stagnant air as the earth held its breath, as if Gaia herself paused in anticipation for what came next.

From where the demons dropped off, three giant canines emerged from the darkness, giving chase to the refugees. Their fur was the color of blue flame and flowed like fire, covering them head to toe. Each hound had large black eyes the size of Jerell's fists. The hounds' thick paws beat against the dirt, kicking up large chunks with each stride. Their teeth flashed under the twin moons, slobber dribbling from their mouths.

"I don't think we can out run them," Xela said.

"You think we should fight?"

"I think we have a better shot at killing them than beating them to the finish line."

Jerell grasped his staff. "I'm with you wherever you go."

Xela nodded and leaped from her seat on Nestor's back. Jerell followed and readied himself as Nestor trotted a distance away. Jerell pushed the earth up, creating a wall, hoping to slow their enemies down. The dog's vaulted with ease over his obstacle, unimpeded by the attempt. As the hounds reached their position, they slowed to a stop, breaking off from their formation in an attempt to surround their prey.

Xela was forced to defend. The beast swiped its paw at Xela as she lunged with her dagger, slashing horizontally at the dog's leg. Jerell stood his ground, waiting for the two remaining hounds to make a move. The one to his left rushed him, pinning him to the ground under its massive forepaw. Drool dripped from the monster's lips.

Jerell flinched as a sharp pain struck his thigh. He looked down as the dog's slobber burned a hole into his trousers through to his skin, causing it to blister. As more slobber began to fall, Jerell did his best to twist his body away from the slobber. "Don't let them salivate on you! It's acid!"

"Thanks for the heads up," Xela said before rolling underneath the belly of the hound she faced, dagger in hand. Jerell wriggled his right arm free and punched upward, forcing the earth to butt the canine in its throat. The yelping dog recoiled in pain as Jerell leaped to his feet and mounted the creature's back. Grabbing a handful of fur, Jerell wrestled for control as the hound flailed wildly, thrashing its head and body desperately trying to hurl its unwelcome rider from its back. In its writhing rage, the hound hit its demon brother, slashing the creature across its torso. The wounded puppy yelped in pain and ran off into the darkness, leaving behind a heavy trail of blood.

"A little help please." Jerell glanced at Xela as she struggled under the weight of a canine's paw, dodging the quick bites that aimed to rip her head off her torso. Jerell forced his whipped dog to Xela's and yanked its coat. His hound yelped and tackled the other dog off of Xela, obliging Jerell to leap away from the fray. The dogs tore each other apart, their misdirected rage finishing the fight for Xela and Jerell. After a few minutes, the dogs collapsed as their blood seeped into the grass.

As quickly as the dogs were finished, a screech struck Jerell's eardrums like a mace. Jerell looked up and saw a legion of phantoms approaching, lead by banshees shrieking their high pitched battle cry. _The Daemon's trump card,_ Jerell thought.

"What do we do?"

Xela's face stiffened as the specters grew closer. Jerell watched as her hands glowed white and grew brighter as they continued to shake uncontrollably. _What's going on?_ Jerell thought. The light in her hands extended and took form. A bow lay in Xela's hand, a glowing transparent instrument created from pure light. "How did you..."

"Sometimes you just have to dig deeper." Without hesitation, Xela raised her weapon at the incoming enemies. As she raised her hand to the string, an arrow fizzled in existence on the bow, already strung and poised for her target. The arrow flew across the open plain into the phantoms. The arrow made contact with a banshee, filling the creature with light from the inside out. The ghost screamed as its spectral body burned in the light. The white light expanded and encompassed the entire phantom army and erased them from the sky in an instant.

The pair stood silent at the wonder they had just witnessed. "That was amazing," Jerell said.

"Clever work commanding that hell hound." Jerell smiled as he wiped off the blue fur clinging to his tunic and trousers. Even the canines in hell still shed.

"We should keep going," Jerell said. "You think Nestor has the strength?"

"He will take us as far as he can." Xela whistled and Nestor trotted back to them from the safe distance he had kept during the skirmish. They mounted and rode off. With the adrenaline worn off, Jerell began to succumb to fatigue, his eyes heavy as boulders. But as he fought off his impending sleep, he gazed up at the twin moons. Their luminous glow were the only beacons in the sky. The usually star-littered sky had been swept clean by darkness. _Not a good sign of things to come,_ Jerell thought.

Nestor rode for a few more hours before slowing to a weary trot. They dismounted on the edge of the plains, an area where trees began to dominate the landscape. Spotting a formation that would work as a temporary shelter, Jerell and Xela lay underneath their stone canopy on the soft grass.

"Do you want me to take the first watch?" Jerell asked.

"I think after what we did to those pups, no demon would dare face us. I think we are safe for the time being."

"I suppose Nestor is as good a lookout as any." Jerell laid his head beside Xela's, the grass cushioning his head like a pillow. "I don't care what anyone says. After sleeping in a bed for days, the grass still makes a cozier mattress."

"As if my shackles were lined with feathers." Jerell looked at Xela's wrists, bruised and beaten by the weight of her cuffs.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner."

"It's okay. My time in the dark gave me plenty of time to think." "About what?"

"Everything. Raynor wanted me to play the Vessel so I have just begun to play."

"So that's how you learned to conjure weapons."

Xela nodded. "Airato taught me, helped me build my strength until I was capable of performing the task without her guidance. My energy pool is deeper than I ever imagined.

Jerell sat up, leaning on his elbows as he looked into Xela's eyes. "You are the Vessel," he said. "A woman blessed by not one, but two goddesses holds great power."

"Well, the approaching crisis wasn't the only thing that preoccupied my mind."

"What did?"

"You."

"Me?" Jerell asked. Since their first encounter, Xela had made the musings of her heart very clear and Jerell had no part in it. But did she finally feel something in a way that coincided with his?

Xela nodded. "I kept thinking back to our day in Sol City; sparring, leading me to the gardens, the kiss."

Jerell blushed, lowering his eyes to the ground. "If I offended you in anyway, I'm sorry. It was an impulse. I don't know what came over me."

"Don't be sorry." Xela leaned in and kissed him. He closed his eyes and felt her soft lips brushing up against his. He reached his hand to her cheek and cupped it in his palm. She was so warm. She pulled away slowly and as Jerell opened his eyes, she smiled. "I was cold. My heart was shattered after Raynor died. I never wanted to open myself to such vulnerability after that. And vengeance was the only thing I craved. But now..."

"I promise," Jerell said, "I will never let Raynor take you. Never." He pulled her into him, exhilarated once again by her touch. And they lay back onto the grass together, in a firm, warm embrace.

***

"What do you mean they escaped?" Marquis barked. Measures had been taken to ensure that the prisoner and her rescuers wouldn't elude capture, but those tactics had failed. Explanations were due. As Marquis's blood boiled, his guard captain stood erect with perfect posture, trained to never slouch even in the face of his superior's anger. However it was a time such as this that Marquis truly wanted an emotional reaction by his captain. He wanted to see fear. "How could they escape?"

"Sir, these rebels were skilled indeed," the captain said. "Even with our superior numbers, they managed to elude our guards. I pulled the sentries from their positions on the outer wall to search for them within the city and close them in, but our search turned up nothing."

Marquis stepped into the face of his captain, putting an inch between their noses but still his captain did not wince. "You idiot. By pulling the sentries from the wall, you allowed them a clear path out of the city into the wilderness." Marquis turned on his heel, swishing his robe as he turned. _The Daemon will have my head,_ he thought. Taking a few steps away, he pondered his next step. This incompetent monkey would not prevent his rise to power in Sol City. But Marquis was not a man without mercy.

"Captain Ulmech, leave me. But know that if you fail me again, it will be the final act of your pathetic life." Captain Ulmech bowed graciously and swiftly left the room. Marquis always made good on his promises and he knew Ulmech was sweating under his chain mail despite his composed demeanor. Though not an outward expression of distress, it suited Marquis well enough.

_We had all the pieces of the puzzle,_ he thought. _Under my watch the plan was coming to fruition and on my watch, the Vessel escaped._

"Cracking under pressure are we Marquis?" Raynor said from a darkened corner.

_Damn, how long has he been lurking there?_ Marquis made no effort to turn in the Daemon's direction, continuing to stare out the open window at the city below. A crowd was gathering, a crowd of concerned, confused citizens demanding answers. Marquis intended to give them all they needed to hear.

"I am simply dealing with the situation." Marquis eyed Raynor's reflection in the window. The Daemon stood smiling with his arms crossed over his chest. His black robes seemed to crawl and squirm over his body unlike normal fabric, like it was breathing. "We could have used your power during the skirmishes in the Temple. Where were you during those struggles?"

"Preparing the ritual. It is not a matter of acquiring the Vessel and reading the words my friend. This ritual requires a great deal of magic, so my mind and body must be strengthened to withstand the strain. Can't have the harbinger die before the coming."

"It still wouldn't have killed you to prevent Xela from escaping."

"If I recall, it was the ineptitude of your so called 'elite guard' that allowed our precious Vessel to fly the coop."

"Your little minion girl didn't appear to be performing as well as you anticipated either. She now lies dead thanks to Xela."

Raynor stepped from the shadows. "Your men achieved nothing but an exemplary array of bruises and beatings. Learn your place Marquis. I am the emissary to Shaktor, not you. Your task was clear. Keep the Vessel detained long enough for the Grimoire to make its way into my grasp. You failed."

Raynor stepped to Marquis's side, placing a strong grip on the Signor's shoulder. A chill shot up Marquis's spine, making him shudder at the Daemon's touch. "Go to your people Marquis. Do what you do best. Put them at ease."

Marquis left without a word, quickly traversing the halls to the outer balcony, where many speeches and decrees were given. But this decree would be his last as Signor. Once Shaktor was awakened, Marquis would become governor with sole control of the city placed in his hands. No longer would he wear the mask that burdened him for years. That much, at least, was promised to him.

As Marquis stepped out onto the balcony, the crowd was high with emotion. Some praised his arrival, throwing their hands to the sky in thankfulness. Others showed disrespect, barking obscenities at him for taking as long as he had to make an appearance. Nonetheless, everyone wanted answers. But would they be prepared for the ones Marquis would fish to them? Marquis was a Signor, so his word was law. The people would believe him.

"Good people of Sol City," Marquis said as he raised his hands to the crowd. The citizens immediately ceased and stood eagerly listening, living on his every word. This was true power, the power to command the population with a mastery of the spoken word. "I know you have questions about the tumultuous events that occurred this morning. The ones we trusted, the people we looked to for guidance, the men and women we loved, have betrayed us. Signors Avela and Korbal have begun a revolt."

The crowd, unsettled by the news, planted their heads into each other's ears, whispering words of concern and astonishment. After allowing them to indulge themselves to the news, Marquis raised his hands again, silencing the crowd. "This morning, Avela and Korbal put a coup into motion in this very building. I survived the attack, but I am afraid that our beautiful Signor Cerena was not as fortuitous." The people of the city stood silent, bowing their heads in reverence for their fallen leader.

"But fear not my good people. I will not allow this travesty to taint our fair city. I have not lost faith in Airato or in your own conviction. Be vigilant. These rebels will return to claim their prize with a legion of followers. Avela and Korbal no longer have your best interests at heart, just a thirst for power that I refuse to quench. I say we let them choke on their betrayal. Brothers and sisters, rise up with me and we will crush this rebellion together." The crowd cheered, clapping wildly and raising their fists in triumph. Marquis smiled over the gaze of his people, the people who would blindly follow him no matter the path.

Chants of loyalty flooded the air. "Marquis! Marquis!" the people rallied. With a final nod, he turned and left the crowd to marinate on his words. With the people of the city under his control, Shaktor was one step closer to his imminent return. As he re-entered the Temple, Raynor applauded at the Signor's speech with slow, purposeful claps.

"Well spoken Marquis. They lingered on your every syllable. Seems your prowess for language balances out your inadequacy to command the guard."

"Your praise overwhelms me."

"You have just planted the seeds of misdirection. And soon, our plans will take root. Even Gaia and her dominion over nature couldn't hope to uproot us now. Salvation is lingering above our heads. Can you feel it?"

Marquis nodded. "We need to focus on retrieving Xela. Without her, the ritual cannot take place."

"No, we don't," Raynor said as he caressed the cover of the Grimoire in his hand. "We are far too great a threat for her to just ignore. My ex-fiancé suffers from a vexing sense of morality. She and her companions will try to stop us."

"And when we strike them down, Shaktor will rule the earth, with me as governor of Sol City."

Raynor sighed, a heavy breath that forced Marquis to tense up. "Shaktor will not allow a mere man to rule in his stead." Marquis's pulse quickened, his heart pounding in his ears. _He dares betray me?_

"That was not the deal. I have been promised control of the city." Raynor reached out, grabbed Marquis's robe and shoved him into the marble wall. Marquis gasped for breath as his spine crunched against the hard stone.

"Plans change. I do, however, know another purpose you will serve." Marquis heard the suffocated sound of a dagger being removed from its scabbard. The smooth edge of Raynor's knife glided across his throat. "The ritual requires one very important element that cannot be forsaken. Yes, the Vessel is important to anchor Shaktor, but the ritual must begin with a bang, as a spark starts a fire."

"A sacrifice," Marquis said. There was no question in his mind. Raynor's breath wafted over Marquis's face, and with each exhale, Marquis counted down the precious seconds of life he had left. "But why me?"

"Because I need the blood of a traitor." Raynor shifted his grip to Marquis's throat, putting crushing pressure on his larynx, effectively cutting off his airflow. "For it is written, 'and the great betrayer himself shall know the cold stab of betrayal.' What better blood to spill than the life force of a man who turned his back on his friends, his subjects, and his faith, in a quest for power? Marquis, you know there can be no other."

_Tricked,_ Marquis thought. _Played for a fool. This was his plan all along._ "I swear to you, I will find a way to return the favor. Even if it takes an eternity." Raynor smiled and with a swift, excruciating stab, the dagger pierced Marquis's stomach, his blood dripping off the blade to the floor beneath their feet. As his vision blurred, Marquis's body fell to the floor, drained. He could barely make out Raynor as he wiped the blade clean and uncorked a small vial to carry the blood. The last sound he heard before darkness took him was the sound of Raynor's laugh as it echoed endlessly through the hallway.

Chapter Fifteen

"As the doomsday approaches,

We must ally ourselves with souls of light.

Because when the dust settles,

It is those people who achieve salvation

Regards of who triumphs in battle."

\- Book of Judgement, Ch. 1, Verses 10-12

Xela's eyes flickered open as the morning's first light washed over her face. Jerell no longer lay next to her, but stood a few feet away gazing over the plain they had crossed the previous evening. They had traveled a lengthy distance but probably wouldn't reach Eden until dusk. Nestor grazed on the grass a short distance away, seemingly unaware of the danger that loomed over their heads. _I suppose I should enjoy the peace while it lasts,_ Xela thought.

The status of the twins as well as the two remaining Signors of the Four crossed her mind. She hoped Jerell and she weren't the only ones to find means of escape. They all knew to meet in Eden, a place where no unwanted stranger could enter. It was the means of reaching the hidden city that worried her.

Xela pushed herself up, stretching her muscles as the sun flooded her body, filling her with warmth. She closed her eyes as the sun beamed down, absorbing as much of the radiance as she could muster. After being in that dungeon for such an extended period of time, the sun's touch invigorated her, reminding her just how much she felt a connection to nature and the world around her. _Like mother like daughter,_ she supposed.

Should she confront Terra with her knowledge that she knew everything? But to what end would that serve? Would it truly make her feel better in saying the truth to her mother's face? After a few seconds of thought, Xela decided the answer was no. The immediate task was dealing with Raynor and his plot to help an evil god return to this plane. Perhaps, if time allowed, she would speak openly of her family ties. Nothing could change that Terra was her birth mother and to deny the fact plainly would be unhealthy.

Xela slowly walked to Jerell's back and folded her arms around his body, pulling into him. "Good. You are awake," he said as he placed his arms over hers.

"Thank you," Xela said.

"For what?"

"For everything you have done."

"And what have I done?" Jerell turned around to face Xela, letting her hands glide across his chest to his back. His smile made her forget her worries. For a fleeting moment, she was blissfully happy.

"Rescuing me, caring for me, loving me."

"You, Xela, are the one I should be thanking." He embraced her, pulling her into him just as they had done before. She hoped this feeling would never end. Xela hadn't felt like this in a long time. The guilt she felt before she knew the truth about Raynor's deception was gone.

"We should get going if we are going to reach Eden," Jerell said.

"Let's go." Xela whistled for Nestor and the two of them mounted him. Xela just hoped her friend would be able to carry them as far as they needed to go. Nestor took off with a sprint, leaving the open plains behind for the familiar dense forest that guarded Eden.

As the trees ascended around them, Xela noticed immediately how different the forest was from her last visit. Judging by the way Jerell tightened his grip on her waist, he could see the change too, possibly even feel it more strongly than her. The trees looked to be in limbo between vibrant life and rigid death. The radiant green that canopied the sky was becoming pale, edging closer to white in their pigment. The plant life too, seemed to be succumbing to a pallid tone. The forest floor, usually sprouting with all manner of critters and animals lay silent, unmoving, and barren.

The emotions ripping the forest in two were worse. Though only in a whisper, Xela could hear the trees, the plants, the forest itself crying for help, begging her to save them from an excruciating, slow demise. Their whispers swam through her veins, transferring their pain to her. As each moment passed, she felt everything the forest felt. Her skin was the bark of an oak, slowly being peeled away like a banana. Her hands were the petals of a rose, breaking off slowly one by one. Her blood felt dry, desperately seeking replenishment.

"Do you feel it too?" Jerell squeezed her side, reminding her that he was present on her horse. Xela quickly glanced at her fingers and her skin, comforted that they were intact and not mimicking the pain she felt. She shook her head, pushing the images from her mind.

"Yes," she said. "The pain is unforgiving."

"I have never felt pain like this from the forest before. Your powers are growing if you are experiencing the same thing I am."

"It scares me," Xela said. "I've never felt such physical pain. Why is the forest in such torment?"

Jerell surveyed the area, looking for some clue that could pinpoint the cause of the decay. "I can only guess this is Raynor's work. A venom seems to be coursing through the heart of the forest. We should tread carefully." Xela slowed Nestor down to a moderate trot, listening intently for anything hostile that may approach. But the forest responded with silence. She forced herself to focus on the destination and not the pain that ailed her. Hours passed and no entity engaged them. But as the pair inched closer to Eden, the pain continued to grow and Xela felt more desperate with every breath.

Seeing her pain, Jerell forced them to stop for a minute and as Xela dismounted Nestor, she collapsed to the ground, decaying twigs snapping underneath the weight of her back. Her vision grew blurry around the edges of her sight. _I'm hallucinating,_ she thought. She reached up to grab the sunlight squinting through the trees, the rays slipping through her fingers like a beautiful golden liquid. As the liquid made contact with her skin, it burned like molten lava, searing her skin down to the bare bone. Xela cried out in pain as her skin melted away like butter.

Her body shook suddenly out of her illusions. Jerell was grasping her shoulders, shifting side to side observing her eyes. She shot a look at her hand. Her fingers were fine, her skin unharmed.

"Come on," Jerell said. "We need to move. Terra should be able to help us with this." He lifted Xela from the ground and shoved her in Nestor's saddle behind him and they took off again, this time full sprint. Xela wrapped her hands around Jerell's waist, holding herself against him as they raced through the forest. Everything was a blur and the entire forest seemed like an ever extending streak of light. Seconds later, her eyes closed and she drifted into sleep, her body retreating from her empathetic suffering.

***

Jerell felt terrible leaving Xela's side, but Terra called him personally. She had been sleeping for a few hours after the doctor had come to examine her. Jerell gently placed Xela's hand by her side, resting it on a soft bed of grass. Terra had offered her quarters for Xela's recovery, knowing full well the effects the forest could have with someone so connected to it. Terra's room was more of a nature sanctuary with a grass bed, a stream, and plentiful flora.

As Jerell left Terra's quarters, the twangs of pain from the forest hit him again, like a branch impaling his stomach. The pain sat in his gut for a few seconds before fizzling away. _I'm surprised Terra isn't bedridden herself,_ he thought.

Terra met him at the central tower's entrance, standing under the vaulting atrium whose apex expanded high above the city itself. Even she had aged, wrinkles slowly creeping to the surface of her usually porcelain-like face, her vibrant red hair darkening to charcoal gray. She was the most connected to the earth, to her mother, and she was feeling the effects most vividly.

"Jerell," she said, her voice low and raspy compared to her usually sultry demeanor. "How is she doing?"

"She's resting well. Her first connection to this forest shouldn't have been so harrowing."

"I know." Terra clutched her chest and took in a deep breath. A pain must have hit her as it did to Jerell moments before. "Come into the chamber. We have much to discuss." She opened the doors to the receiving chamber, its walls very familiar to Jerell. He gazed at Gaia's mural, hoping to see the sparkle in the eyes of the artwork. But no light glistened where they once were. Even Gaia's soft features were lost as the mural showed signs of decay.

"What are we going to do?" Jerell asked. "The Daemon is now in possession of the Grimoire and we barely escaped as it is."

"This explains why the forest is dying. It's preparing itself for death, just as the human body shuts down when faced with the imminent. Eden will not be safe for much longer."

"Xela must remain safe. If she is exposed to the contents of the Grimoire, she will die."

"Worse," Terra said, touching her right temple. "She will be alive, forever crushed under the ponderous presence of Shaktor. Death would be merciful compared to what she would endure." She paced back and forth, her eyes closed as she pressed her fingers even deeper into her skull. "Our options facing this threat are limited. Any action we take will have consequences."

"Perhaps we can destroy the Grimoire. That book is the reason we are in this mess."

"Yes, but the book cannot be destroyed by an instrument constructed by man. It must be done with a divine weapon. Only Xela has such a weapon, a bow made from Airato's essence if what you told me is true about the events on the plains. In addition, the plan involves getting close to the Daemon, close enough to take the Grimoire away and destroy it. Would you risk Xela's possession to destroy the book?"

"I don't want to, but it's the best we have."

"There may be another way," Terra said. Her admittance piqued an interest in Jerell, but her tone suggested the option was no better than the previous.

"What is it?"

"I will explain later. Xela will want to hear it as well. For now, we must awaken the Crux."

Terra led Jerell further into the chamber, the wisps that normally danced around her merely hovered idly by her ears, dimly illuminating the way. Terra's labored strides worried Jerell as they inched closer to the Crux, the room tucked in the back of the chamber. For the first time in millennia, the Rangers would be forced to strategize a military strike within the chamber's walls. The era was closing on Eden's neutrality in world affairs.

Terra snapped her fingers upon passing through the doorway and her personal wisps dashed from her side to the ceiling with an encumbered flutter. As they reached the room's apex, dozens of other wisps lining the walls awoke from their slumber, shimmering to life and casting their green glow on the Crux. Within seconds, the Crux was awakened.

The chamber was formed from the wood of a red oak, laced with iron bark. Roots sprouted from the ground to form a circle of benches around an empty center where the symbol of the Rangers was proudly framed. Moss and vines eagerly climbed to the heavens in sporadic patterns. This sanctuary had not yet been touched by decay.

"I had hoped I would never use this room again," Terra sighed. "I called the lieutenants. They will be here soon." She took a seat on the northern-most bench, practically collapsing on the wooden appendages. "I don't know if I am going to survive this fight Jerell. The earth has never fallen so close to ruin. The only thing I look forward to now is joining my mother by her side."

"I won't let you give up," Jerell said.

"And neither will we." Lieutenant Tiro stood in the doorway, his silver hair and faded blue eyes shimmering under the green glow of the wisps. He was the eldest serving member of the Rangers, as well as Jerell's mentor and uncle. The resemblence was uncanny. Though Jerell had no biological father, Tiro acted as the only father figure when he was growing up.

"Good to see you still alive Jerell," Tiro said. "Though I expected no less with your skills." Tiro extended his arms and wrapped Jerell in them. "Your mother, Gaia rest her soul, would haunt me until the end of my days if she knew I didn't protect you."

"It is good to see you Uncle," Jerell said.

Tiro was flanked by five other men and women, all of them commanders of the other units. They all swiftly entered and sat, looking eagerly at Terra posturing in her seat, pushing the burden of the forest down from the surface. Terra was too proud to show weakness to her soldiers.

As the last commander entered the Crux, the familiar faces of Avela, Korbal, and the twins emerged into the chamber. Besides cuts and bruises from their battles, they looked relatively unscathed. _They made it,_ Jerell thought. He smiled as Hale stepped away from his mentors and threw his arms around Jerell, squeezing as tightly as he could.

"Good to see you too Hale," Jerell said as he patted the young boy's head.

"Well we certainly weren't going to die and let you have all the fun," Em said. Jerell smiled and she grinned back. However, Avela and Korbal remained solemn, their expressions displaying a great deal of concern as they bowed in greeting.

"Where is Xela?" Avela asked.

"Resting," Jerell answered. "She has endured a lot."

"Come," Terra said. "Please sit. All of you are key players in this fight."

As they all sat on the roots of the oak, a grimness settled into the Crux. The air remained still, the soldiers silent, listening intently for Terra's instructions. Terra said nothing as she sat palms open in her seat, listening to the earth. Her body shuddered and quieted before she spoke.

"We have little time," she said. "Our actions must be swift and confident. Surely those of you who are connected have felt the tremors in the earth. Darkness approaches. Tiro, you have a plan?"

Tiro rose from his seat and a large group of wisps descended from the walls to meet him, shifting in color to a light blue. The wisps joined together to create a three-dimensional image of Sol City to scale. "The wall surrounding Sol City is much too strong to be dealt a frontal blow. So we suggest an attack from underneath. Using his skills, Jerell can uproot the barricade from underneath, destroying the foundation of the outer wall. This will allow the main group to enter the city." Upon Tiro's words, a section of the wall crumbled to dust, showing a large gap in the city's fortifications. Jerell nodded in agreement.

"What about the magical barrier?" Hale asked. "My sister and I won't be much help with it still functioning."

"Unfortunately, we don't know the source of the barrier's power. What we do know is that we can weaken part of it by destroying a number of key junctions where the magic connects to create the barrier. This is the job of the secondary group. They will split off from the main force and eliminate the junctions so our more magically gifted allies can enter the city. The secondary group will signal when their job is finished." The wisps recreated Tiro's plan, highlighting the target areas with a small burst of light.

"This is where our special unit will enter. Jerell and Xela will lead their allies through the chaos to the Temple, where they will force their way inside and attempt to stop the Daemon, while we continue to engage the enemy inside and outside the city walls." The wisps recreated the plan again, stopping at the entrance of the Temple. "I'm assuming you have a plan once you arrive?"

"I'll slit Raynor's throat," Xela said from the doorway. Jerell rose and ran to her, grabbing her hand. "When he dies, his army will die."

"Why do you say that?" Tiro asked.

Xela slipped away from Jerell's grasp and sat on a root. "Because the army you face will not be living. They will be a legion of reanimated corpses, merely carrying out the commands of the puppet master. If he dies, the dead will return to dust. Raynor will be watching from the Temple's roof. He will want to view everything as it happens."

"Getting into the Temple will be difficult," Avela said. "Marquis will have guards everywhere and more than likely has branded us as traitors to the populace."

"We will deal with them," Xela answered. "They will meet the same fate as their master. However, Fael is mine. I have unfinished business with him...family business."

"Then the plan is clear," Terra said. "You will depart tomorrow at dawn. May Gaia guide you." The lieutenants stood and bowed and made their way to exit. "Jerell, Xela, please stay. We have one more matter to discuss."

Em put her hand on Xela's shoulder. "Glad to see you alive, Xela."

Xela nodded as the rest of the room cleared out. Terra stood, her face grimacing in pain. She waited until the room had cleared before speaking her mind. "Xela, entering the fight is especially dangerous for you. If the Daemon manages to begin the ritual, victory looks all the more unlikely. So, you must destroy the Grimoire using the bow you created from your energy pool."

Xela looked down at her palms. They trembled slightly and Jerell took them in his. Xela's hands were cold, her body still suffering from the laments of the woods. "If that is what I must do, it will be so."

"Unfortunately the move is risky," Terra said. "It worries me that you have to get close to do it, but it seems we have little choice. There is another option, but you won't like it."

Xela leaned forward, grasping tighter to Jerell's fingers. "What is it?"

"It's more of a backup plan. That is where Jerell comes into play. Xela, you are special because as the Vessel, you can contain Shaktor's essence without burning up in the process. However, this doesn't mean that another vessel couldn't petition for Shaktor's presence."

"But how does this involve me?" Jerell asked. He turned to Xela, whose eyes were wide with understanding. "I don't understand."

Terra turned her eyes to Jerell. "As a descendant of the Druids, you are housing the Spirit within your body and calling upon it when you require power. You are a vessel. The crystal you hold from Gaia has the ability to extract the Spirit from your body, making your body vacant."

_This is why she couldn't bind my powers before,_ Jerell thought. "So what you are saying is..."

"If the ritual begins, in order to save Xela, you must force Shaktor to enter you."

"Preventing his return and killing me in the process," Jerell said with clarification.

Xela jumped from her seat. "No, there has to be another way. I won't let him sacrifice himself for me."

"It is the only way to stop Shaktor if the Grimoire isn't destroyed," Terra said. "I'm sorry."

"Then I won't miss." Xela said.

"I trust you won't. Get some rest you two. Tomorrow, this ends."

***

Xela awoke sweating in the night, escaping the black sun that plagued her once again. She felt the sun penetrate her being and she felt her consciousness fading into darkness. She looked to Jerell who still lay asleep. Slipping from the bed of grass, she tiptoed out of the bedchamber and down to the Crux where the meeting earlier today formulated the battle plan.

She couldn't fail. If she failed to destroy the Grimoire, Jerell would take the blow for her. He would absorb Shaktor's essence and die as Shaktor attempted to enter this plane using the wrong vessel. She couldn't allow that to happen, not after such turmoil. She finally found something, someone she truly loved.

As she entered the Crux, Xela met eyes with Terra as the Elder of Eden mediated.

"Xela," she said. "You're awake."

"I am." Xela opened her mouth to speak her mind but the words fizzled away before they reached her tongue. What could she possibly say?

"So you know." Terra lifted herself from her seat and stood.

"Yes," Xela said. "Why didn't you tell me the last time I was here?"

"Would you have believed me? Would you have so willingly accepted my help?"

"No. Not at all."

"You needed to hear it from someone else," Terra said. "I refused to be responsible for turning my daughter's life upside down." Terra reached out her hand and held Xela's face in her palm. "My beautiful daughter."

Xela held her mother's hand. "When all this is over, will you tell me everything?"

Terra nodded. "Yes." Terra pulled away to return to her seat. "Get some rest. The world needs saving." Xela smiled and left the Crux, hoping her mother's touch might keep the black sun away for one last night. She now had one more person to fight for. She couldn't fail.

Chapter Sixteen

"The valor of men coming together is truly inspiring.

Even in the most dire circumstances,

Situations where victory is near hopeless,

Humans find the strength to fight.

Curious and stupid, but inspiring."

\- Book of Letters, Letter to a Prisoner

Xela stood with the Rangers on the plains outside Sol City with the dense forest at her back. The anxiety of the impending attack held weight in Xela's mind as she gazed at the city's outer wall 300 meters away. Terra's suggestion that Jerell should sacrifice himself should she fail to destroy the Grimoire was unacceptable. Every since that revelation, the thought buzzed around her head like a persistent wasp.

Jerell and Xela lead the unit of Rangers from Eden in silence. Their conversations usually flourished, but instead a grim tranquility dominated the space between them. Perhaps Jerell wished to remain focused on the upcoming mission. He occasionally looked in her direction and forced a smile. Xela herself couldn't bear to speak any words with him because whenever she began to form them, she couldn't help but fear that they would be the last between them.

Their quietness reflected on the Rangers under their command. They remained quiet during the journey, only allowing an infrequent whisper to be shared among them. They were in the dark about the entire situation, only aware of their small part to play. Little did they know, they could lose either of their commanders by the end of the day.

Sweeping the uneasiness with Jerell aside, Xela analyzed the situation as she always did. The Rangers numbered at little more than five hundred. Raynor's forces had yet to make an appearance, most likely biding his time until the Rangers began the assault. The Daemon enjoyed making his adversaries believe they were inching closer to victory before stomping on their progress with a heavy shoe. This added even more unnecessary apprehension to the situation.

Raynor's army would be expansive; there was no doubt in her mind about that. The only question was just how large. As the most powerful necromancer the world had ever seen, Raynor commanded a force of phantoms, demons, undead, and who knows what else. Their ranks could, or maybe wound was more appropriate, be in the thousands, vastly outnumbering the Rangers two, five, or maybe even ten to one. Raynor had spent the better amount of two years preparing for this day.

Not too long ago, Xela stood looking upon the beacon that was Sol City as a demonstration of faith, a destination to a pilgrimage that she willed to take for as long as she could remember the name 'Airato.' Staring at the same white wall that protected its ignorant citizens, she saw the place as an obstacle to be overcome, an enemy to vanquish. No one before had ever succeeded in assaulting Sol City and Raynor knew this fact. Though she couldn't see or sense him, she knew Raynor was waiting, urging her to attack. They both knew he had the advantage in this fight.

For the first time in days, she turned to Jerell to speak. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Jerell answered. His eyes never met hers, focusing on the target ahead. "I'm more worried about you honestly."

"I'm fine." Xela didn't even believe herself when she said it. She eyed the blue crystal hanging from Jerell's neck. She wanted to crush it underneath her boot, for its presence was a constant reminder of a possible outcome to this battle.

"When I bring the wall down," Jerell said, "Raynor's army will be revealed. No matter what we see, we make a break for the city. We can't afford to waste time." Jerell whistled and the unit behind them repositioned to allow their companions to join them at the front. Avela and Korbal wore white robes with armored breastplates, spaulders, and shin guards made of iron bark provided from the Rangers. Em wore a fire red tunic over trousers and black boots while Hale wore a full-length blue robe with a belt cinched around his waist where his four daggers rested. Being citizens of Sol City, their faces showed remorse at the act they would be witness to.

"We're ready," Korbal said, unable to hide his remorse. "Let's take our city back."

Xela focused her mind. If they wanted to win this fight, she could no longer dwell on what could, should, or would happen. She would not fail. She would destroy the Grimoire and prevent Shaktor's return, as well as prevent a sacrifice Jerell should not have to make.

Jerell took a wide stance, grinding his feet into the dirt beneath them. His eyes glowed to life as Xela felt the ground beneath her begin to quake. Beginning as a faint vibration, the earth's quivers intensified to a violent tremble. Jerell grunted as his being glowed brighter, his veins becoming pure green energy. Xela stared at Sol City's wall, waiting for the foundation to crumble.

With a groan, Jerell threw his arms down to his sides as the earth rifted, finally forcing the eastern walls of Sol City to succumb to Jerell's power. Dirt kicked up from the ground and thickened the air as a 50 meter section of the Outer Wall crumbled to the ground, cloaking the city behind a thick cloud of dust. Xela raised her right hand, signaling the Rangers to stand their ground should an over-excited soldier run in recklessly.

Dark clouds quickly shifted over the plain, blocking the sun in the sky. All the color seemed to fade as the suns' rays disappeared from view and Xela felt a twinge in her gut. Beneath her boots, the grass had withered into dry stalks of yellow, crunching under her weight as she stepped away from her unit. _No,_ she thought. _My vision._ She looked down the plain at the broken wall, bracing for whatever emerged.

Slowly, blots of black emerged from the gap, filling the empty space with bodies. Though she couldn't make them out from her distance away, she knew they were dead, reanimated corpses that comprised Raynor's army. As more of them flooded from the city to the plains, the mass formed what only Xela was familiar with.

The black sun.

"Draw your weapons!" Xela commanded. She closed her eyes as her soldiers did as she ordered, focusing her will on conjuring Airato's bow. She visualized the bow in her hands; the weapon's weight as light as a feather, its string made from spun gold, the feel of its grip. Xela felt warmth ravage through her body, spreading from her chest to the rest of her extremities. She opened her eyes as a bright light in her palms elongated into Airato's bow, a gift from the Holy Goddess. She felt the energy leave her, but she didn't feel drained as she had the first time.

She turned back to Jerell. "Let's go." Lieutenant Tiro blew the Ranger's horn and with a battle cry, Xela raised her bow above her head. Her unit ignited with the same battle cry and following Xela's lead, storming down the plain. As they ran, Raynor's forces mirrored their actions, spilling out from the gap in the wall like water escaping from a dam, crying a barbaric chant as they charged. And they kept coming, with no end to the mass in sight.

As her forces approached, Xela could finally discern the appearance of her enemies. They looked human, no visible signs that their flesh had been compromised, no suggestion that their life had been stripped from them and replaced by puppet strings. These soldiers would die for the cause because they knew nothing else. Though their humanly faces greeted Xela's army on the plains, she knew they were far from it.

As Xela ran, she lifted her bow and a magical arrow materialized at her fingertips like before. Her transparent weapon glistened with brilliance without the sun's rays striking its frame. She released her projectile into the oncoming crowd, striking a dead woman in the chest. As the arrow hit, a small sonic boom knocked a small group of soldiers back dead again as light engulfed them. Xela inhaled deeply.

Five seconds later, the armies collided.

Xela dissipated the bow and conjured two glowing daggers to her hands. Xela lunged at her enemy, a burly man with a bald head and dark eyes. She dug her weapon into his gut before he could react and retracted the blade as a second assailant raised his blade to strike her. Rolling to the left just as her enemy's blade sliced the air where she had stood, she swiped the dagger horizontally with her right hand, forcing the blade to slice her attacker's side. She retracted the blade with equal speed as she swept her leg behind his ankles, knocking him to the ground. As the attacker hit the dirt, she slit his throat.

Shooting a glance to her right, Xela watched as Hale masterfully danced his daggers around multiple enemies, repeatedly sinking the blades into their flesh and withdrawing them for another blow. However, he was failing to notice a soldier moments away from flanking him. Xela threw one of her daggers at the incoming attacker, plunging her weapon into the soldier's forehead.

Hale turned in Xela's direction merely to say "Thanks Xela," before turning back around to a woman with a mace.

In the chaos of battle, Xela searched for Jerell in the crowd as she kicked an enemy square in the jaw. Jerell's green cloak was perfectly camouflaged in the mix of Rangers and black soldiers. They needed to enter the city soon before the horde became too dense to bypass.

"Jerell!" Xela said. "Jerell!" A heavy set soldier rushed her and with the hilt of his axe, butted her in the forehead. Xela's vision rattled from the blow and she fell to the ground. She looked up at her enemy, a blurry giant looming over her, the double-sided axe raised to behead her. She was too shaken to counter successfully. Without warning, the earth beneath her attacker's feet shot upward, throwing her assailant off his feet. Xela picked herself up and spotted Jerell twenty feet away.

"You alright?"

"Yes. Thank you." Xela scrambled to her feet to meet the same blurry giant head on.

"Where is that signal?" Jerell said. Xela slashed violently right, connecting with the giant's face as he pursued her. A small red flare arced across the battlefield, alerting the Rangers of the magical barrier.

"Time to go Jerell," Xela said.

Jerell nodded in agreement and the pair sped through the massive crowd of warriors. Xela connected a few attacks with her dagger for good measure as they approached the crumbled wall, never reducing her velocity. Jerell lead the way, his green cloak whipping at his back, systematically beating any enemies in his path with his staff. Xela's adrenaline kicked in, pure energy rushing through that allowed her body to push past its physical limitations.

Jerell cleared a path straight for the gap, never straying from the most direct route. She had never seen him so focused. Yes, they had been involved in numerous battles together, but never before had she witnessed such ferocity in his actions, his movements flowing like water from one attack to the next. She only hoped this new level of focus that he was exhibiting wouldn't get him killed.

As they neared the wall, the gap only 20 meters away, Jerell tapped into the Spirit once again, raising a hip-height barricade between them and the gap from the ground. With each stride, the wall moved with them, crashing into enemies too stupid or slow to dodge from its path. _Clever,_ Xela thought. _Very clever._

The breach in the outer wall was larger than Xela originally perceived. After the original break, the wall continued to fragment in a domino effect along its edges. Xela and Jerell leaped over the rubble, dodging a few more falling pieces of debris and at last stepped within the confines of the outer wall. The houses that bordered the fallen wall were destroyed with it, piles of wreckage in their place. Xela prayed the denizens of those homes had the sense to evacuate before the wall collapsed.

Xela and Jerell held their ground against more undead soldiers as they waited for their other companions to breach the wall. When they finally stepped over the rubble, fifteen soldiers lay dead, or dead again, at their feet. Korbal, Avela, and the twins were breathing, their clothes sprinkled with blood.

Korbal swiped his blade clean. "I haven't fought like this in years. Those creatures are throwing themselves at us like cannon fodder."

"Let's go. The Rangers can't hold off Raynor's forces forever." Xela lead the team through the streets of Sol City. Only chaos could describe the state of the city. Citizens darted into their homes at the sight of Xela and her company, shouting obscenities specifically at Korbal and Avela.

"Traitors," some said.

"Blasphemers!" others cursed. As their doors slammed in the face of their salvation, Avela bowed her head.

"Airato, do not fault them for they do not know the truth."

The Temple at the city's center rose higher into the heavens as they approached. Upon reaching the marketplace, the elite guard met them weapons ready. All lined up in formation, thirty men and women prepared to fight. They wore armored plates of gold over blue tunics and black trousers, the colors of Airato, but the fools didn't understand they were fighting against her.

"By order of the city, surrender yourselves at once," the commander said.

"Out of our way," Em said conjuring two fireballs to her hands. With a groan, she released the projectiles toward the guards. The guards dived out of the way, breaking the formation while others charged forward. Hale stepped forward and levitated their helms from their skulls and smashed the metal into their faces. The flames danced back forth as Em manipulated their path, forcing the embers to jump between the soldiers.

"Go," Em said. "We can hold these guards off. Get to the Temple."

"This isn't the plan," Xela said. "We go together."

Em threw another fireball into the fray as the guards began scrambling to their feet. "We don't have time. We'll be fine. Been fighting since we were five remember?"

"Don't kill them," Avela said. "These are good men merely misdirected. Spare them if you can." Avela jumped through the flames and disappeared behind the smoke that trailed behind. Xela nodded and dodged the dancing flames as she, Jerell, and Korbal leaped past the guards, following Avela.

With guards behind them, the group broke into a sprint toward the Temple. The wealthy citizens that populated the area around the Temple were nowhere to be found, most likely locked away in their lofts and mansions as those under them fretted being caught in the crossfire. The battle had not reached this part of the city, as was the Rangers' intention to cause as little collateral damage as they could.

Xela looked to the sky with the Temple's entrance before her, watching as dark clouds gathered together, clustering around the roof of the Temple. She was right. The roof is where Raynor would be, watching every play of the battle as it unfolded.

"Are you ready for this?" Jerell asked.

Xela paused. Was she truly ready to face Raynor and Fael? Were her abilities still too weak to matter or were they developed enough to attain victory? Xela wanted nothing more than to face her adversaries but was she ready?

"Let's finish this." Xela pushed open the doors of the Temple and was met with the scream of a banshee. The central staircase was a swirling tornado of specters, floating through the air like kites catching the wind. Xela couldn't count the number of specters before her, but they numbered at least in the hundreds.

She looked up and saw Fael leaning on the railing of the first floor, his black eyes full of dreadful ecstasy. "Glad you could make it to the party Xela. We were wondering how soon you would raid the city. Happy to say, we are glad you have chosen to return to us so soon."

"Enough talking Fael," Xela said. "You're mine."

"Fine, but only if you can catch me." Fael darted from his lookout and began to climb. Xela wasted no time and sprinted herself up the stairs of the Temple with Jerell and the Signors barely able to keep up. Nothing would prevent her from taking Fael's head once and for all.

***

Lieutenant Tiro swung hard and struck a blow to the right temple of an enemy soldier with his staff. The corpse fell to the ground dead again as Tiro turned his focus on another enemy. As he defeated this one, he gazed around the battlefield. His men were falling, overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies the Daemon's army had at their disposal. The number of green Ranger cloaks that littered the dead was too many.

The Daemon must have been preparing for this battle for years. The dead that charged from the city walls were in the thousands. Even if they possessed twice as many Rangers as they began with, their forces were nowhere near matched.

"Rei," Tiro called to the nearest soldier. A small statured but naturally quick man rushed over to him, his young face covered with dirt. "What's our status? How many have we lost?"

"Sir, we have lost almost one hundred men already. Specifically twenty one or twenty two from our unit have been slain."

_Gaia's mercy,_ Tiro thought. _It's a massacre._ If Xela and Jerell didn't fix the problem quickly, there weren't going to be any men left to fight. He turned back to his soldier. "Fight well. This isn't over yet."

The small Rei leaped back into the fray as Tiro looked to the crumbled wall of Sol City. _Hurry Jerell. We can't last much longer._

***

Xela chased Fael up the stairs of the Temple of the One as the maelstrom of spirits circumscribing the walls of the tower wailed around her. Behind her she heard her companions clash with the specters in battle, but her progress would not be hindered. The phantoms that thrashed around her didn't approach her as she climbed, almost leading the way to her target. _This is Fael's doing,_ she thought. _He's trying to separate me from the group._ It was better this way anyway. Fael was her problem and she would eradicate him herself.

"What's wrong sister?" Fael's voice called from above. "I'm right here. Kill me if you can."

Xela looked up and saw her brother continue his ascent to the top of the Temple. Focusing inward, she conjured Airato's bow and aimed for Fael as she rounded another railing. The bright arrow flashed across the atrium and grazed passed Fael's head, finding closure in the spectral body of a ghost. Light burst from within the phantom and exploded, taking with it ten other wailing phantoms near it. Fael stopped in his tracks and stared at Xela across the atrium, a rage burning in his black eyes.

"Do you really think I would let you kill me so easily?" he snarled. Xela shivered as an anger Fael had never demonstrated took form. Smog began spiraling from his crown, shrouding his body in charcoal smoke. Xela raised her bow and aimed with another arrow of energy. But she wasn't going to shoot just yet.

"Do you think our mother would have wanted this for us?" she asked.

"She is not your goddamned mother," Fael's voice carried from the smoky form as it rose from the staircase. Hovering to the center of the atrium, Fael continued. "And it no longer matters what she wants. She has played her part in all this."

"What do you gain from this Fael? If Shaktor is reborn, this entire world will descend into chaos. And in that chaos, what part will you play?"

Fael cackled and even the phantoms hovering about the atrium shivered away from him. "You have spent so much time chasing after tomes of power and lost loves that events unfolding around you are unnoticed. The Cabal has plans; plans that have been in the making for millennia. And no amount of heroic fighting or divine intervention will impede these plans. Play your part sister as you always have."

"Who is the Cabal?" she asked. "I have never heard anyone utter that name."

"Why tell you when your soul is about to be taken over by a god? Surrender."

Fael's mass swooped from the atrium to Xela. Xela let an arrow fly before jumping to the side. As the arrow penetrated the smoke, Fael uttered a groan. Light burst from within the smog, but was quickly contained as Fael reformed on the stairs ten feet from where Xela stood. He looked to be unscathed.

"You are not required to be conscious for Shaktor to possess you. I can see now that you will not surrender your body so easily. It's more fun this way anyway." Fael held his arm out and smoke emptied out to form a sword with a black blade.

Xela mimicked his weapon choice, dissipating Airato's bow and arming herself with a blade of her own. The light extended from her fingertips and solidified into a blade, a transparent weapon of Airato's grace.

Fael smiled as he lifted his blade to the center of his face, presenting the sharpened edge to Xela. "Just like training with our father so many years ago. This is my superior fighting style Xela. Do you really think you can best my sword play?"

"Let's find out." Fael lunged forward with a vertical strike, one Xela easily defended with a block. Sparks danced from the swords as their blades collided with each other. Fael pressed his weight into his attack, pushing Xela backward up the stairs. The blades sizzled from enduring contact until Xela let up and backed further up the staircase.

"Already on the defense I see," Fael said. "Seems your quest for vengeance didn't refine your skills with a sword." Fael slashed right and left, right and left in an aggressive, never-ending pattern. Xela blocked every incoming strike as she was forced to navigate the staircase rising higher to its peak. Fael suddenly broke his pattern and kicked his foot forward, knocking Xela on her back. Fael attempted another vertical strike with Xela in a precarious position, but Xela rolled to the right as Fael's sword made contact with the carpet lining the staircase.

Xela scrambled to her feet and slashed horizontally along Fael's waistline. Fael jumped backwards and upon landing, thrust his sword forward again. Xela caught the incoming weapon with a successful parry and slashed at the tiny opening she was allowed. Her holy blade made contact with Fael's side and her brother grunted as he placed his free hand over the wound.

As Xela prepared for another strike a banshee flew between her and Fael, emitting a piercing scream. Xela slashed at the creature and as the sword made contact, the specter fizzled away. _Coward,_ she thought. _Still he hides behind puppets._

She attempted to make another strike, but her body froze where it stood. For a brief moment, her muscles would not react to her command. Fear sank into the base of her spine. As quickly as she lost control, it was back and Xela prepared a defensive stance.

"You are growing weaker sister," he said. Fael lifted his hand from the wound Xela had inflicted to reveal the blood that coated his pale skin. "Where your powers have manifested in the past few days, I have had years to nurture my abilities. How soon will your energy deplete and you will be a slave to my power?"

"Not planning on it anytime soon."

Jerell's staff connected with Fael's head. Her brother hit the floor and tumbled down the staircase before scrambling back to his feet. Jerell and Xela took chase up the stairs, inching closer to Raynor's viewpoint. As they ascended, Xela shot fleeting glances out of the windows lining the staircase. The battle was still raging below and the darkness outside was black as night despite being after high noon. Time was running out.

"You are not going to get away that easily," Fael said. His smog form reappeared in their path. As he re-solidified, Fael bunted the hilt of his sword into Jerell's skull, sending the Ranger crashing to the floor and down the steps. He was still conscious, but the wind had been knocked out of him. Fael grabbed Xela's throat and squeezed. "The time for games is over. The time is now. Give yourself to your duty as the Vessel."

"Go to hell," Xela spoke through his crushing grasp. With what little motion she had, she thrust her sword upward. The holy blade entered Fael's body and reemerged through his back, the tip dripping with blood. Fael's grasp instantly gave and he stumbled forward, placing a hand against the wall to hold himself up. He faced the window overlooking the battlefield. The maelstrom of phantoms whirred even more wildly around her in a wailing tornado.

"This changes nothing," he groaned. "No matter what you do, your destiny has been decided and nothing can change that." He turned to her and smirked as blood ran down his robes. "Say hello to Shaktor for me."

Xela kicked her boot into Fael's gut. The force sent Fael backwards through the glass window. Xela leaned over the open edge and watched Fael fall. Even as death approached from below in the form of the cold earth, Fael cackled with delight as if he had never lost. Xela retreated back inside and went to Jerell. He sat propped up against the wall clutching his head.

"You killed him," Jerell said.

Xela nodded. "I once swore I would make Fael pay for the crimes he committed against our family. And despite knowing he can never harm another human being, I know his death matters little. Raynor must be stopped."

"Avela and Korbal are staying behind to make sure nothing else enters the Temple. Let's go." Jerell and Xela moved as quickly as they could to the roof, taking care of the specters that now flailed wildly as if trying to escape the confines of the Temple's walls. At the apex of the final staircase, Xela and Jerell opened the hatch and climbed into the open air, where Xela's final confrontation with Raynor would determine the fate of everything.

Chapter Seventeen

"When the final battle approaches

And the last trumpet is blown,

Your past deeds will be laid out before you

And your fate will be decided."

\- Book of Judgement, Ch. 4, Verses 53-54

The sky was darkened by ominous clouds and fractured by streaks of lightning. In the distance, Xela could hear the clash of battle where the eastern wall had stood. Her eyes laid on the battle below, watching as an ocean of black soldiers seemed to be swallowing what little units the Rangers had left. _They're winning,_ she thought.

"Here we are at last Xela," Raynor said. He stood on the north end of the tower, fifteen meters away, facing her with the Grimoire resting in his hands. "The eleventh hour approaches." Raynor showed no semblance to what most people would consider evil or even vile, even as she knew he would use his power to exploit her. She could have never seen his true intentions without him telling her every explicit detail.

"I don't plan on surrendering without a fight Raynor," she said. "You have corrupted the lives of too many to be graced with submission."

"I expect nothing less than your full resistance. But tell me something, Xela. Has your battles to this very spot not been taxing on your spirit? I cannot help feeling that this resistance you plan to front will be less than exceptional."

Xela focused inward once again, visualizing Airato's bow. The energy flowed from her fingertips and her thoughts manifested into the beautiful weapon. Xela smiled as she raised the weapon to her line of sight. _This is it,_ she thought. Her hands fidgeted as she aimed for the Grimoire, openly exposed as a fleeing bandit in an open field. An arrow flashed to the string. She breathed deeply and released the arrow.

Raynor made no attempt to move as the projectile approached, a spear of justice flying through the air. Xela held her breath waiting for the Grimoire to come apart in Raynor's hands and foil his mad plans. As the arrow reached the binding of the Grimoire, it fizzled away upon hitting an invisible wall. _What's going on?_ Xela thought. _It should have worked. Why hasn't the Grimoire been destroyed?_ Xela quickly summoned another arrow to her bow and released. The arrow refused to piece the tome, disappearing before contact. Xela could feel the energy within her depleting.

"Fael played his part perfectly," Raynor said. "He preoccupied you just enough to deplete what precious energy you had stored within you. I knew how Fael would be able to get under your skin and you played the part of a vengeful sister to the letter. It is true that the Grimoire would have been destroyed if it had made contact with your weapon. Truer still, if you conserved yourself until now, my barrier would have been shattered. But you lack the energy to break a barrier created by me, a man who has savored his energy for this final encounter."

"No," Xela said as Airato's bow flickered in her hands like a candle in the wind. Xela focused on retaining its form but she was too weak. She felt her energy slipping away through her fingertips. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, catching herself with her hands. Airato's bow faded away.

Jerell hunched down to pick her back up. She stared into his eyes, hoping to find comfort in his shimmering pools, praying that indeed there was another way to combat the magic of the Grimoire. Jerell's face mirrored no such hope. His eyes were full of determination, full of valor as he intended to take the fall for her.

Raynor cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?" Raynor read the words from the Grimoire, a language Xela neither understood nor cared to understand. The clouds in the sky shifted upon the first syllable, positioning for the approaching apocalypse. Smog began rising from the pages of the Grimoire and oozing into the air. Lightning flashed more frequently, a streak of electricity arcing across the sky every few seconds.

Xela felt a stab of pain pierce her abdomen and she keeled over to the ground. She clutched her stomach as she felt like a demon was attempting to escape captivity through her torso. Her heart quickened as the pain slowly began to intensify, where excruciating pain evolved into overwhelming.

"This can't be happening," Jerell said. Xela felt him clutch the back of her head as she writhed backwards involuntarily. It felt like her spine was being bent in half until it broke. After a few moments that felt like hours, her spine reverted back to its normal state, with the pain of the bend still intact.

Raynor continued to read the words from the Grimoire. The stabbing cruelty from deep within her stomach showed no sign of ebbing away and soon Xela felt her insides boiling. She could barely catch a breath as her lungs seemed to ignite into flame. Her bones were melting, their solid structures being liquefied to nothing more than ponderous sludge. Xela expected, and in a way wished, that her body would pass out from the pain.

"It is done," Raynor said. The Grimoire melted in his hands into a black muck, but Raynor did not cry out as his skin seared from the touch of the no longer solid manuscript. He panted heavily as blood dripped through his fingers and sections of bone were revealed when his flesh was stripped. With a crimson hand, he reached into his robes and retrieved a vial of blood contained tightly with a cork. Xela's vision began to blacken.

"I add the blood of betrayal to seal the summoning." Unsealing the vial, he emptied its contents to the ground where the Grimoire had melted. The blood sizzled upon impact and evaporated into the air. "Shaktor, lord of discord, come forth."

_Here at last,_ a voice in Xela's head whispered to her. Xela panicked as it invaded her ears, a voice too familiar from her dreams of the world's destruction. _For too long, I have bided my time. This plane will soon feel my wrath._

Xela strained to lift her head and watched as the smoke that had emptied from the Grimoire swirled in a maelstrom. Raynor raised his bloodied hands in praise to the storm as it molded itself into the form of a demon. Two horns burgeoned from the mass followed by talons, claws, and a long spiked tail with a tip fashioned of a mace. The figure formed no face, forced to remain a smoke-born shape, but its silhouette was horrifying enough.

_My Vessel is prepared,_ Shaktor said in Xela's mind. _My reign over this world begins now._

The smoke-formed entity charged toward Xela with a demonic growl. Jerell leaped in front of her with outstretched arms.

"You fool," Raynor said. "You cannot save her." His eyes widened as the essence of Shaktor was upon Jerell and Xela.

Jerell threw the crystal to the ground and stomped on the blue gem with his boot. As the crystal shattered, a blue essence drifted from the broken stone and seeped into Jerell's skin. Jerell screamed but held his ground as a deep green essence, its color vivid against the darkness of the sky, slowly emptied itself through Jerell's open mouth. Xela watched in horror as Jerell's body became vacant for Shaktor.

Shaktor's form made contact with the Spirit as it escaped, absorbing the entity in its darkest recesses. The Spirit was destroyed. Shaktor's encounter with the Spirit did not fault its path and continued, diving into Jerell's chest.

"No!" Xela screamed as Shaktor's essence disappeared into Jerell's body. Jerell turned to Xela as she lay sprawled on the ground. His face showed no fear even as death itself writhed inside his body.

Jerell's form convulsed as if suffering from madness and hovered above the roof of the Temple. He grunted and groaned as he clutched his head and his heart with every inch his body rose into the sky. Xela's pain ebbed away and she found the strength to move.

Raynor's eyes widened in shock. "What have you done?" he said. "How could Shaktor anchor to him and not you?" Raynor stood and walked over to Xela, a fire burning in his eyes. He lifted her from the ground by her throat and tossed her across the roof. She slammed on her side near the edge, her arm dangling over the precarious edge.

Raynor grabbed a mound full of Xela's hair and whipped her again across the roof. Xela's legs dangled over the roof's edge by the time she was able to stop her momentum. She pulled herself up to prepare for another attack by Raynor, but none came.

"My lord!" Raynor cried to his master, his arms reaching to Jerell's thrashing body.

Jerell's mouth spoke in the voice of Shaktor. "How is this possible? I feel this body weakening rapidly." Jerell continued to struggle violently, his body whipping into an uncontrollable frenzy in mid-air. "You have failed me. This vessel is uninhabitable!"

"No. I did everything right. This is not my fault!"

"No," Shaktor said, anger and desperation in his demonic voice. "I can feel my grip on this plane slipping away." Smoke began spilling from Jerell's mouth just as the Spirit had been expelled. A furious wind kicked up and Xela soon felt she was in the eye of a ravaging tornado. The legion of phantoms haunting the atrium of the Temple surfaced from below Xela's feet, joining the tornado encircling the roof.

"I'm sorry my lord," Raynor said. He fell to his knees with his hands clasped together, begging to his god to show mercy. The Daemon knew fear indeed and quivered at the sight of punishment.

"Failure was not an option," Shaktor said, his voice booming. "You will be punished." Shaktor emitted a terrible scream as his anchor to Xela's plane faltered. Jerell's body retreated to the roof with a thud when the last of the smog left his being. Shaktor bubbled in a mass of smoke, his form imploding upon itself. As the smoke fizzled into the air, a lightning bolt rained down from the sky, striking Raynor on the crown of his head. He screamed as his body convulsed. Raynor's eyes glazed over as he spoke one last time.

"The Cabal...will succeed..." His body slumped over and collapsed in a crumbled heap, his skin smoking like it had been held over a fire to cook. The Daemon was at last dead.

***

Tiro watched as the enemies he faced suddenly stop mid-stride and crumble lifeless to the ground below their feet. A pool of black armor lay sprawled from his position to the edge of the destroyed city wall and past him stretching toward the forest. He could only imagine that his face mimicked the looks of his fellow lieutenants and his Rangers; astonishment mixed with relief and pride.

What men the Rangers had left, once they overcame the surprise of their enemies fall, cheered wildly, whistling and hollering with everything in their lungs. Tiro hunched himself over, laughing to himself in complete exhilaration. _Gaia be praised,_ he thought. _They did it._ The clouds plaguing the sky began to dissipate and the sun, the glorious sun, shone once again down to Gaia's great earth. The plains beneath his feet that suffered from the cruel curse of the Daemon slowly saw their lush green shade rejuvenated.

Lifting himself upright, he commanded the troops. "Into the city!" Tiro sprinted to the front of the pack with a new-found sense of energy and led his troops into Sol City. The damage the battle had taken on the citizens was high, especially those lining the outer wall. The homes of families, even those of the smallest in size, could be rebuilt but he only hoped that not too many lives were taken in the fight.

The city folk that hid within their walls from the carnage of battle slowly peaked out into the afternoon sun. Upon realizing they were safe and the fight was over, they clutched each other with glee and thanked the soldiers that passed them with words of praise and a hearty handshake.

As the Rangers' troops entered what Tiro thought was the marketplace, he spotted the twin mages standing guard over a unit of thirty or so men, tied together with a rope. The elite guard, it seemed, had been quelled with ease by two teenagers. "Well I can see you two didn't have too much trouble here."

The twins turned to Tiro, smiling under the dust and dirt caked on their faces. Their robes had specks of blood spread throughout. He frowned. _Children, no matter how powerful, should never be thrown into war,_ he thought.

Em smiled. "Nothing a couple of prodigies like us can't handle."

"It's good that you were able to spare them," Tiro said. "They shouldn't be punished for being manipulated. You two are quite the team."

Tiro walked over to the defeated guard, all whining and whimpering like children despite being grown men. Revealing his dagger, Tiro sliced the rope that bound them and they straggled to their feet, brushing the dirt of the marketplace off their uniforms.

"How could we be so blind?" one soldier said.

"We were all fools," another said. "We should have followed the path of Airato, not following Marquis' orders so blindly."

"Quit wallowing in the past and focus on the present," Tiro said. "A battle has just ended and the populace needs to see their men taking charge. Now go and help these people." The soldiers nodded and dispersed to different directions of the city, probably whatever district they had originally been signed to.

"Come on," Hale said. "We need to go to the Temple and make sure the others are okay." Together the Rangers and the twins marched through the city to the Temple, where they hoped all of their companions would anxiously await their arrival.

***

Xela kneeled to Jerell, caressing his head in her arms. He was forced to shallow breaths, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but only in small contractions. He smiled as he squinted through the newly revealed sun, reaching her face with his hand.

"We did it," he said. He coughed and blood spat from his teeth to his tunic.

"Don't strain yourself," Xela said. "The others will be here soon and Hale is a healer. You're going to be fine."

Jerell laughed as well as his injuries would allow. "We can't kid ourselves Xela. This is it for me. Shaktor ripped me apart."

"You can't say that. You can't leave me after we just found each other." She grabbed her fallen Ranger's hand, interlacing their fingers as the color from his face began to fade away.

"I know you are scared Xela. But you've conquered the demons that haunted your past. You must now look to the future." Jerell's eyes flickered like a moth's wing, but managed to stay them open. "You have a group of friends now that will be with you every step of the way."

"But you won't be there," Xela choked. "You won't be there."

"I know," Jerell said. His breathing was slowing to a crawl. "I love you."

"I love you too." Xela's gaze never left Jerell's blue eyes. They were so beautiful as they glistened under the brilliant sun. Jerell took a final breath, a desperate inhale that failed to spur his lungs, and his soul departed from his body. As his chest descended down, Xela squeezed Jerell's hand even tighter and with her other, shut his eyes to the world.

"No." Xela lowered her head to rest on Jerell's chest and felt the warmth from his body wither away until only a tranquil coldness remained. She could hear the latch to the roof open over the cheers of victory ascending from the city below and for the first time in a very long time, Xela wept.

Epilogue

Avela stood overlooking the reconstruction of the eastern wall, a skeleton at best compared to the original structure. The wall would take months to rebuild, possibly even an entire year to make sure the structure remained sound and could ward off attacks in the way Sol City was renowned for. They would be taking no shortcuts when it came to protecting the city's citizens. Besides, those who lived in the poorer districts of the city enjoyed having the work. Perhaps she could lengthen the construction, allow workers the opportunity to feed their families for a little longer.

Avela spotted Hale amongst the workers doing his best to help. She barely recognized him in a soiled tunic and trousers when he usually donned the robes of a student. As she looked on, Hale raised a two-ton stone of granite and gently placed into place, ready to be mortared. A swarm of workers then mounted the giant stone and began to prepare it for the next layer.

Happy with his task, Hale turned and spotted Avela. Wiping away beads of sweat, he walked over to his mentor. Avela's former student was no longer the same eager adolescent she took under her wing more than a decade before. The eyes that marveled at the wisdom she could lend his ear were now somber after everything he had seen. His journey across the country taught him many wonders and horrors that Avela could have never explained without him seeing them for himself.

"Coming along nicely don't you think?" Hale said.

"I can see you have wasted no time in doing your part," Avela quipped.

"Just putting my abilities to good use," Hale said. "Since the crisis has been averted, I needed an outlet. Besides, if anyone gets injured on site, I can heal them before sending them home."

"You have a maturity beyond your age, Hale. I only wish your sister showed the same service as you did. Speaking of which, where is Em?"

"She said she had an errand," Hale said stroking his chin. "But she didn't say what it was."

_Strange,_ Avela thought. She had watched Em since Jerell had passed and the young mage was taking the Ranger's death hard. She could be seen pushing her abilities to the point of exhaustion in the training grounds or sleeping alone in her quarters with the day still hours before dusk. Em had always been searching for a father figure in her life and it seemed Jerell is the one she chose.

"If you see her, please tell her to come talk to me. Korbal and I are worried for her."

"I will Signor."

"For now, Korbal and I have much to discuss. We must decide who will take Cerena and Marquis's place in the Four."

"Signor, may I offer an opinion?" Hale asked as he dusted off the dirt from his knees. Avela nodded in affirmation. "After spending time with the people of the city, I realize they need a voice. Yes, you speak for Airato on matters of religion and any laws that coincide with her teachings, but the people need someone to speak for them, to communicate their concerns with you."

Avela thought on Hale's idea. Of course the Four had to be made whole again, but perhaps in all this, Avela knew the people needed to become more involved. Marquis' betrayal and utter manipulation of them during his last days was an example of such a failure to keep the city's denizens in the loop.

"Indeed," Avela said. "Korbal and I will create a Senate, a place where representatives of the people may convene and speak of their wishes. Not just from Sol City, but every province within our borders."

Hale smiled. "I like that very much Signor."

"Now I must be getting back. Keep up the good work Hale." Avela turned back in the direction of the Temple. Korbal met her upon arriving at the front entrance.

"How is construction going?" he asked.

"Well enough. More importantly, how is Xela?"

Korbal lowered his head, searching for the most accurate words. "Distant. She refuses to leave her room and she turns away all visitors."

"This is to be expected," Avela said. "Jerell made a great sacrifice for her. Two weeks time is hardly enough time to recover."

"What should we do?"

Avela paused. "We wait. Xela is the strongest woman I know. Despite the torment forced upon her, if anyone can pull through, it's her."

***

Xela sat upon a plush cushion in her quarters, deep in meditation as the warmth of the sun beat on the back of her neck. She focused her energy and Airato's bow dropped in her lap. Summoning the weapon was second nature now as she felt her pool of energy expanding even further. Her endless sessions were the only thing that kept her heart from falling out of her chest.

"Airato," she called out in her mind.

After a brief pause, Airato was in her presence. The goddess's arrival was like feeling warmth of fire in dead of winter. "My child, I am here."

"I must find answers. Both Raynor and Fael spoke of something they referred to as the Cabal. I must know what it is."

"This knowledge is beyond my grasp Xela. Darkness surrounds the Cabal and clouds the identity of the entity. Whether it is one person or many, I cannot see."

"Is there anything you can tell me?"

Airato paused. "A symbol. A black hand. Around each fingertip ripples like a stone tossed in a pool of water. This symbol appears to me when I focus on the Cabal. It acts as a ward and hinders me, prevents me from revealing its form."

"Thank you Airato."

"Xela, do not let Jerell's death lead you down a path of vengeance. Don't let his sacrifice be the only thing you remember about him. Gaia and I will always be here to assist you. You are still the Vessel."

Xela opened her eyes and dulled her focus. Airato's bow faded away and Xela looked up as Em entered quietly through the door carrying a small satchel. "Are you ready?" Em asked.

"Yes." Xela stood up, revealing Jerell's Ranger cloak on her shoulders. The woolen garment lightly skimmed the floor behind her heel as she walked forward. "Did you get everything I asked for?"

"I did. You really think you can find out what this Cabal thing is?"

Xela shrugged. "I hope so. Avela and Korbal have so much to do for the city. Reconstruction of the wall is only scratching the surface. I, on the other hand, go where Airato and Gaia guide me."

Em smiled. "Good, then Jerell will be avenged."

Xela placed a hand on her shoulder. In the state she was in two years ago, she would have said the same thing. And she had. She had carved a path down a road of obsession and anger. It was destructive and almost destroyed her life. She would not allow Em to walk the same path as she did.

_Jerell,_ she thought. _My life was not your burden to bear._ He had saved her from becoming a monster, a bloodthirsty monster that lived no better than Fael. Then he saved her again from being possessed by a god. What had she done for him?

For a moment she thought she saw Jerell standing in the corner smiling, holding a blooming Gaia's Grace in his fingers. His blue eyes sparkled as the sun trickled in through the windows. A moment later he was gone, dust in the wind. She turned to face Em, a face full of confusion, anger, and sadness.

"Not vengeance Em. I fight for justice." She whispered in the young girl's ear as she embraced her. "Don't remember him for his death, remember him for his life." Xela lifted the satchel from the floor and left Em in her quarters. She thought the whole ordeal would be over when Raynor and Fael were dealt with, but she was wrong. An enemy without a face lurked in the shadows. This was only the beginning.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Jacob for being my very first reader and being the most supportive. Thanks to DJ, for being the second reader and encouraging me to continue. A huge thank you to Sabrina, for being my impromptu editor. Thank you to Amanda for the cover design. And to all who spend the time to read this book, thank you. Xela's story will continue because of you.

If you enjoyed reading The Vessel, then please return to Smashwords.com or the retailer you purchased this ebook from and rate it. If you would like to review this novel, that too, is appreciated.

About the Author

Michael is originally from Worcester, Massachusetts but currently "lives" in Sturbridge. He uses the term lives loosely because he works for a cruise line, so his time is spent sailing around the world. On top of writing, he also enjoys playing video games (mainly RPGs), dancing (his main source of income), and listening to music.

Connect with this author on Goodreads: <http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6472250.Michael_Alexander>

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