

The Children of Zion

By D.R. Hurley

For Ali.
D.R. Hurley

One

Drip,

Drip,

Darkness!

Drip,

Drip,

Fear!

Drip,

Drip,

We feel them smother you. Consume you,

Drip,

Drip,

Lost you have become,

Drip,

Drip,

But no more.

Drip,

Drip,

Stand free from fear,

Drip,

Drip,

Rise up from the darkness,

Drip,

Drip,

Draw strength from within,

Drip,

Drip,

You are not alone.

Drip,

Drip,

'Hey, I wouldn't lie in the water if I was you!'

Drip,

We are here for you, Father.

Drip,

Drip,

Your children are coming!

Drip,

Drip,

'Didn't you hear me? Get out of the water. You might catch something!'

Drop!

With a sound echoing that of a drowning man taking his first breath from ocean's deep, a figure came screaming into consciousness to find himself surrounded by an endless sea of nothingness.

The echo of a dream slipped quietly from his mind as the man looked hungrily upon the vast blanket of shadow spread out before him with growing fear.

His eyes searched frantically to find something that would bring recognition flooding back to his bewildered conscious, but there was nothing to see amongst the roving darkness. He couldn't even see the puffs of warm vapour steaming in the cool air from his pulsing breath.

Where am I? he thought desperately. How did I get here?

His heart thumped harder against his chest as panic set in, intensifying the pain in his throbbing head.

Dark eyes continued to scour aimlessly throughout the void, but to no avail. He was confused and looked within for answers.

Nothing!

The man tried hopelessly to recall the past, but found his mind to be as bleak and dark as the tomb to which he was confined. His aching conscious was nothing but a sea of empty waves, crashing violently against his skull.

What happened to me? he thought, noticing the tattered remains of sodden clothes wrapped around his numb skin.

Slowly, his eyes began adjusting to the dark, and were soon able to make out the shiny body of water in which he lay. He watched helplessly as the water lapped gently against his skin. Its malign touch was deathly cold, despite its shallowness, and caused him to shudder.

For a while he sat frozen amongst the shadows, grasped by the fear of the unknown. His gaze passed blindly into the deep void of nothingness that surrounded him, but saw very little in return.

The air was rank with an eerie silence. Broken only by the constant drip of a leaking pipe somewhere high up in the emptiness. Small droplets of filth escaping from cracks in rusted metal, fell silently through the unknown darkness and into the ice-like water below. The man wrapped aching arms around stiff legs, drawing them near, and shivered.

Desperately, he searched his mind once again, hoping to recall some scrap of knowledge that might reveal something about his past. But the man failed every time he tried.

Panic continued to grow in the back of his mind, gnawing at him like a dog chewing on an old bone. The man's heart beat faster with every second and his breathing became rapid. The crashing waves of pain continued their relentless assault against his head, becoming so intense it felt like his skull would crack. All was lost to darkness. Until suddenly there was a sound. A sound that was, a voice.

'For Tumarr's sake, didn't you hear me? I said you shouldn't lie in the water. Get out of there you fool, or you might catch something.'

The piercing sound startled the man as it sliced through the void.

'Who's there?' he cried back in response, as his tired limbs thrashed wildly amongst the icy water, trying to locate its source.

The voice called out to him again, its echo seemed to be everywhere.

'There's a ledge close by, you should get on it. Who knows what's floating around in that stench you're bathing in?'

For a while he remained still. The fear of the unknown was too great. But then slowly he gave in, and began to crawl through the murky fluid. His body ached terribly with every movement, but he pressed on regardless and quickly came to a cobbled wall. Cautiously, the man reached out with a shaky hand and began to search.

There! Just above him at arm's length, the wall ended.

A second hand joined the first, and together he found enough strength to pull himself free of the water's freezing clutch. His battered body collapsed onto the dry floor with a gasp, as a fresh wave of pain surged through him. The man lay shivering for a time as large pool of water formed around his sodden mass. The throbbing pain in his head worsened, but the smooth firmness of the stone beneath was reassuring.

'There's a rumour going around someone beat up the guards. Wasn't you by any chance?'

The same voice called out again, but this time there was no reply. Its question made no sense to him.

'Huh, silence is often a sign of guilt.' it said mockingly.

The man regarded the voice as it continued to speak. It was female, and sounded young. Was she somehow linked to his current predicament?

'Maybe it wasn't you. Shame. I wish I could have seen it. Nobody's ever had the guts to do that before.' A long silence followed before there was any more talk.

Eventually, a weary voice replied with the only question that seemed appropriate.

'What, are you talking about?'

This time the voice wasn't as quick to respond, but inevitably did.

'Haven't you heard? They had an incident outside. Whilst, interrogating a prisoner-'

'Prisoner?' the man blurted suddenly. He tried to rise but a pain in his chest stopped him.

'Yeah, you know. Like the ones that stay in prisons.' the voice taunted.

'I'm in a prison?' he gasped, 'For what reason, what have I done wrong?' the man's voice was electric, and laced with panic.

'How should I know? I don't care. I just heard that some guy managed to zap a few of the guards earlier. It sounds fantastic!'

A quiet mischievous laugh echoed throughout the darkness. The man sat immobile trying again to find some answers in his mind.

'I've no idea what you're talking about. I don't remember anything.' A brief silence ensued before any reply.

'Really? Nothing at all? I'm sure I'd remember a thing like that if I'd done it!'

'My mind is blank I tell you. I recall nothing. Except waking up in this place. Wherever it is?'

Another chuckle echoed throughout the void.

'Well, I can tell you. You're in a prison, that's where. And likely to remain for a while, just like the rest of us!'

'I realise that!' he countered, feeling his temper rise. The sound of chuckling continued to permeate the air before the voice responded.

'You should do. The guards don't like it when prisoners get frisky with them. I'd wager much of the Empire will have changed by the time you see it again!'

The man rolled onto one side then eased himself up, despite his pain. The thought of being confined to this engulfing shadow brought terror to his heart, but he tried to remain calm.

'I'm trapped in this darkness with an empty mind, and a ghost that's trying to mock me. I'll go mad for sure!' he muttered. The imposing darkness was filled yet again with more laughing which only riled him further.

'Ghosts you say. There are no ghosts in here, friend. Rats maybe. And perhaps a couple of other crawlies, but no ghosts.'

'I am not your friend.' he said bluntly,

'How do you know? Thought you couldn't remember anything?'

'I can't,' he snarled, 'just shut up and leave me alone.'

A sharp huffing sound came back in response and for a time nothing else was said. The distant sound of dripping water was all that could be heard, until the man finally decided to speak.

'What is this, Empire, you speak of? he asked curiously. 'Are they the ones who've put me in here?' The response came quickly this time, and with more than a little disbelief.

'You're kidding right? You must really be crazy if you don't know what that is. Unless of course you're just pretending, so you can get out of here quicker. Well? Come one then, speak up. Which one is it?' the voice demanded, but was met with silence. The question angered him greatly so he refused to respond, judging it pointless.

After a few long moments the mysterious voice spoke again. This time however, it was far less scornful.

'You know what? I'm sorry. Perhaps I spoke out of turn. Let me come down and take a look at you. All this toing and froing in the darkness is becoming tiring.'

A bright light suddenly erupted from high up in the chamber, startling the man. It grew steadily into a lilac blaze then began to move, fighting back the darkness. It floated silently down towards where he was sitting and caused him to panic. He scrambled backwards with a gasp, awaking numerous bruised muscles, until his back pressed into a wall. The light was so bright now it forced him to look away. His eyes were unable to cope with the brilliance. The frightened man raised an arm to shield himself from the blinding light and caught a glimpse of something set into the orb's glowing centre.

It glided down to the chamber floor without a sound, halting several feet in front of him. The dazzling light began to dwindle shortly after, until it was little more than a faint, warm glow surrounding its master. It was several moments before the prisoner was able to focus on the little girl now standing before him. And longer still until he was able to speak, since his mind fought to accept that which he had just witnessed.

'Don't you know it's rude to stare?' the girl said firmly. The man was speechless. His dark eyes widened at the sight of her.

'Is this a dream?' he breathed, watching in amazement as the wonder continued.

The child smiled and began to sing softly to herself, rubbing her hands together. Somehow, she managed to form a small ball of light between her little fingers, then released it into the cool air. The gentle action of her movement caused the man to flinch. It amused her to see him stare opened mouthed at the glowing orb floating close to its creator. The sphere bobbed gently up and down, illuminating the surrounding area. Long fingers of silver light radiated out from its surface, touching the face of the man who sat before it. A man, who had been the victim of much cruelty.

He was young, but stern of face. An oily black mass of thick knotted hair rested upon his brow. He was tall and lean, but looked badly beaten.

The girl sighed deeply as the man reached out to touch the floating orb, but was unable since it kept moving away from his intrusive fingers.

'Oh, you're a Cowldonian. A shame. I guess it really couldn't have been you then who attacked the guards. Oh well.' her glum voice matched the look of disappointment on her face. The man stopped his quest to grasp the orb and looked at her.

'What do you mean?' he asked, but she didn't reply. The child's gaze was now drawn to the bare skin of his arm.

She reached out, but he withdrew from her touch. The girl soothed his concerns and tried again, moving slower this time so not to spook him. The man remained still as she carefully inspected his arm, wincing as she pressed the darkened areas of his bruised skin.

He studied her curiously whilst she did this. Maybe it was the light, but the girl's skin was blue in colour. It surprised him greatly. Enough to make him wary of her presence. Yet despite his caution he felt no danger from the child and allowed her to proceed. He noticed the purple marks wrought frequently upon his pale skin which seemed to interest her. They were everywhere.

A small gasp escaped from petite lips as she observed them.

'I've never seen a person covered in so many...' she said softly, retreating several steps. The silver orb of light following silently above.

'What is it, what are all these bruises?' he asked, suddenly concerned. The girl took a moment to reply. She looked very upset.

'They are polar burns, caused from the weapons the guards wield. They must have beaten you senseless with them.'

'Well that explains the pain.' he said dryly, rubbing his body. She looked at him with pity, but her lingering gaze seemed only to annoy him.

'Why are you staring at me?' he said crossly. The girl snapped out of her thoughts.

'Forgive me. I feel bad for doubting you earlier. I thought you were just acting. But now I see the truth.'

'What truth?'

'It's well known that excessive use of polar batons causes temporary memory loss, which would explain why you can't remember anything. But you've got so many...'

'So?' he said impatiently, 'What's wrong with that?' The girl swallowed, as if trying to force the words out of herself.

'I'm afraid you might not never get your memory back.' she replied before turning away, unable to meet his glare. The child was clearly distressed, but for reasons unknown. She did not know him. Why should she be concerned with his condition?

'Those brutes,' she said angrily, 'how could they do such a thing? It's so careless. So thoughtless. It's what you get for employing idiot ogres. They should all be punished.'

The orb's glowing light increased, as if linked to the child's temper. It shone brighter now, illuminating her completely. He could see her clearly, and noticed she was very young indeed. Seven, eight at the most. Long fiery hair fixed into a huge side ponytail hung over her right ear, framing a set of large emerald eyes. Her cheeks were round, and her chin was delicate, giving her a fairy-like appearance. She was dressed in the same clothes as him, except hers were in far better condition.

'What did you do?' she asked curiously. More to herself then him. The man shook his head.

'I don't know. I don't even know where here is!' he replied, frustrated not to have any answers.

A long sigh escaped from his troubled face. The man slumped and rested his wide chin on blood stained knees. The little girl looked at him for a time before answering and cocked her head, as if listening to some unknown voice.

'You really don't know, do you?' she said softly, finally believing him. She took a few steps forward and crouched.

'You are in the Chambers of Ah'mend Darr. A place where people are held before being tried at the high courts of the Iron City.'

'I'm to be tried?' he said with a gasp, 'for what?' The girl shrugged.

'Who knows? Could be anything. Most of those brought here often remain forever. Left to rot! It's much easier for the Empire to forget a few lives then to pay for expensive court fees.'

She looked around the dimly lit chamber and became distant as she spoke.

'I bet there's hundreds of decayed bodies littering these foul halls.'

The man also looked, thankful not to be bound in one of the many iron shackles dangling from the stone walls, some of which still clung to skeleton prisoners.

'What do they think I've done?' he asked quietly. The girl turned her head to look at him.

'Well, I did hear the Emperor's son, Alexander, has been kidnapped. Maybe they think you have something to do with it? Probably executed under Cowldonian law for high treason if found guilty.'

The man began to shake with fear.

'That's absurd.' he hissed angrily, rising to his feet. The action caused him to gasp but he tried to ignore the pain.

'What would I want with an Emperor's son?' he asked with a shaky voice. The girl stood and shrugged again.

'I don't know, you tell me.' she replied whilst reaching out to flick the floating orb. Light spiralled around revealing new parts of the chamber as it spun.

'I'm telling you I don't have anything to do with this kidnapping!' the man said, his tone becoming more agitated.

'Well, how do you know you didn't? Thought you couldn't remember anything?'

'I can't,' he said through gritted teeth, 'but I think I would remember something like that!'

The child grunted, then turned to face him.

'You'd think so, wouldn't you? Then tell me, do you even know your name? That's pretty important too. And not something one tends to forget.'

The man stopped and became still, the anger now drained from his features. He sighed deeply and shook his head before slowly dropping to the floor, wrapping stiff arms around his legs. He looked up at her but said nothing, unable to reply. It did not matter. He didn't need to. The empty look on his face was enough to satisfy her answer. It was several long minutes before she attempted to soften the tense atmosphere.

'Maybe you were just dragged off the street under false pretences, I don't know. But you don't seem like a kidnapper to me. And I do know that somebody definitely blasted the guards earlier whilst being questioned.' She smiled broadly as she began to imagine the scene.

'Those brutes got more than they bargained for this time. I wonder who done it?' she muttered sinisterly. A mischievous laugh escaped her petite lips, revealing a darker side not yet seen before.

'That again, huh.' the man groaned, 'Maybe it was me? You should be careful. Best not get close to such a dangerous individual.' he said coyly. The girl laughed. Her sweet voice echoed feverishly throughout the chamber.

'I don't think so. No Cowldonian has ever been able to wield such a power. Your Gods forbade it.' The statement caused him to raise an eyebrow.

'Well you seemed quite able.' he replied crossly, pointing to the spinning orb. The girl stiffened at his remark.

'I am not a Cowldonian!' she said angrily. The man smiled, enjoying her unrest, then decided to change the subject as a new questioned formed in his confused mind.

'What is Cowldonia?' he asked curiously. The girl broke into yet more laughter.

'You really do have issues, don't you?' she said chuckling all the more. The man however failed to see the humour of it.

'Didn't we establish that already?' he said, clearly annoyed. 'You still haven't told me who you are, girl. Or what you're doing here.'

He rubbed his throbbing head, as if it would help to numb the pain, but it did little to comfort.

The girl smiled, then moved close, placing a tiny hand on his forehead. He flinched at her touch.

'My, we are jumpy, aren't we? And you said you were dangerous!' she joked before trying again. This time he remained still, and let her proceed.

'What are you doing?' he asked, but she scolded him for talking.

The girl began to sing softly. The sweet-sounding tune was unfamiliar to his ears and the dialect unknown, but it was calming. As the song continued a strange blue light emitted out of the hand that she held against the man's head. A cool, soothing sensation flowed through his skull, relaxing him. He felt sleepy, but tried to stay awake. After a short time, the song ended, and the child's eyes opened.

She removed her hand from his forehead and the man was astonished to find the pain in his head was no longer there.

'How did you do that?' he asked. The girl smiled.

'That's not important right now, and neither is my history. All you need to know is that I am a prisoner, just like you. Although my crimes are not so justified.'

She turned around and snatched the bobbing ball of light out of the air then sat down next to him, juggling it between her petite hands.

'Care to explain? It's not like you're going anywhere.' he said with a sly grin. The girl smiled then began to speak.

'I'm alone in this land. And have been for some time. I've learnt to look after myself. The other day I was caught by a tradesman trying to steal a piece of fruit from his stall, it was only a melon. He called for a guard and that was that. Now I'm here as punishment. They'll probably hold me for a few days before releasing me. At least I hope they do.'

The man turned his head to look at her.

'Seems a bit harsh for such a petty act. I guess survival is a crime here.' The young girl grunted and continued to play with the ball of light she had created, trying to balance it on the end of her index finger.

'I heard one of the guards who put me in here say how a prisoner had managed to put three of his mates in the infirmary. Later, when I saw them throw you in here, I wondered if you were the one they spoke of. Guess I now know it wasn't.'

'Sorry to disappoint.' he replied.

Yet, despite his feelings, a tiny flicker of a vision shot across the back of his empty mind. A memory of pain, anger and uncontrollable rage. A blinding purple light filled his eyes and then...

Nothing.

It was gone before he could make sense of it.

The man stared into the stone floor confused.

'Why can't I remember!' he said quietly. The girl groaned and threw the glowing orb into the dark.

'Haven't we been through that already?' she asked, watching as the orb quietly drifted back towards her.

'I guess the guards hit you a bit too hard. And from the amount of polar burns you have, it may be a very long time before you remember. If ever!'

His eyes drifted down to his arms which bore many purple coloured marks. The lilac flames of the guards' Polar batons had bitten deep through his clothes, and licked the naked skin underneath. Most of his body was still numb from the ice-like water he'd been laying in, and the parts that weren't were becoming sorer with each passing moment.

His dreary gaze shifted to the floating sphere of light bobbing above the girl's head. His eyes were adjusted to the light enough so he could see further into the chamber. Not that there was anything worth viewing. Just endless walls studded with arched recesses, presumably cells. All empty except for a few bones and rusted iron chains, probably used for restraining particularly restless prisoners. Just in front, the stone floor dropped away, leading down to that dark water he awoke in. Its surface now like glass.

Time passed by, and the two sat in silence. The man thought about questioning the little girl further, but was denied the chance when a high-pitched screech rang throughout the chamber, assaulting the ears of both captives.

Metal scraped harshly against stone, ripping through the silence. The noise was instantly followed by a golden pillar of light, flooding in from a now open doorway.

The floating sphere disappeared and both prisoners shielded their eyes from the brilliance.

The man looked up at the rectangular doorway and could just make out what looked like a large, blocky figure of a guard that filled it.

D.R. Hurley

Two

City of Umlie, one hundred leagues east of Jyonti. Two days earlier...

'...and if you look over to your right you can see the marvellous Gardens of Umlie. A beautiful setting overlooked by the Dragoul watch tower, one of our most famous landmarks. Built over two hundred years ago by the famous sea Captain, Raymus Dragoul. The tower not only serves as a guide for all traders coming into the city at night, but also stands as a monument to those who died in the Unification Wars. Ah now, if you cast your eyes east you will see...'

The exuberant Mayor Dallinor spoke proudly about the great city of Umlie's wondrous history, as the Imperial party continued its annual tour. Much to the boredom of Emperor Lucius Gildane. He always found these annual visits incredibly tiresome, and painfully tedious. His ageing mind slipped frequently away to the Empire's capital, Bangarrow, where he longed to be. Wandering amongst the lush pastures of the palace estate. Lucius wished he could be out hunting the roaming deer and wild game, one of his favourite past times. But his duty to the Empire required him to attend such, dreadful proceedings. So, reluctantly, he attended. With as much enthusiasm he could muster.

'Every year the same,' he grumbled quietly to himself, trying to ignore the mayor, 'you'd think they would change the program a little!'

The grating sound of metal upon stone filled his ears as he limped along. The steady buzzing of tiny gears and whirling servos issuing from his mechanised leg covered most of the Emperor's grumblings, though not completely. Lucius felt a sharp nudge to his side which ceased his complaining.

'Quiet dear, she may hear you!' hissed Helena sharply. The Emperor's wife felt her cheeks blush from a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance at her husband's constant lack of respect.

'It's only once a year and you know how much Alex likes these visits. His endless studies rarely give him the chance to travel beyond the palace gates. So please, don't spoil it for him!'

Lucius groaned quietly, but he knew his wife was correct. His son did spend most of his time learning about the world, yet seldom encountered it. Perhaps he could force a little more interest into this boring episode. The thought did little to improve his mood, and he continued to mutter under his breath, until he caught sight of Helena's disapproving glare.

The party consisted of the Emperor, his wife, and their eleven-year-old son, Alexander. The boy's personal tutor, Miss Emily Hutkinson, was also in attendance, as well as the usual entourage of ambassadors and governors that often appeared at such proceedings.

A troop of Dragoon soldiers dressed in ceremonial armour escorted the party, led by Sergeant Haze of the twelfth division garrison. The men marched quietly in standard formation, flanking the group so not to get in the way, but close enough to engage any potential threats. Not that there would be.

Haze had taken the liberty to break formation and walk beside Miss Hutkinson, who was holding onto Alexander's hand. The young boy was skipping happily along as the others walked. Haze took great pleasure in pointing out historical facts to miss Hutkinson, often inaccurately. But the young lady merely smiled, not wanting to offend the veteran soldier. She knew far more about the city than most, and let him continue out of politeness.

Umlie was not the largest city in the Empire or even the wealthiest, yet it was certainly the most famous. Many considered it to be the jewel of the nation, and the true heart of Empire. A place thousands of people flocked to everyday, be it for trade, education or pilgrimage. For Umlie was a holy land and steeped heavily in tradition.

Built over the sacred Tumarr crossing. A place where, according to history, was the very site Great Mother Hamiya wept for a thousand days after the terrible tragedy which destroyed the family of gods. Hamiya's tears fell endlessly from her broken heart, tearing the land open to create two of the largest known rivers to span the planet.

The gift of water to the world, in exchange for her life force.

The point which these two mighty rivers crossed was said to be the exact spot on which Hamiya became one with the planet, at the beginning of time itself. Umlie was built around the crossing.

'Now here's a beautiful piece of Cowl craftsmanship,' the Mayor announced as the party came before a large paved courtyard, dominated by a gigantic circular fountain at its centre,

'This sculpture depicts our Great Mother, awarding the Mi'harna rose to the Cowldonian Patriarch, Baross Kitejaw, for devoting his life to the Empire. He eventually become our first High Lord and Emperor.'

The fountain's captivating presence was such that it held everybody's attention who saw it, almost forcing them to admire its holy aura. Groups of Cowldonians could be seen huddled around its perimeter, chanting prayers of thanks to mother Hamiya for her sacrifice.

Even Lucius was forced to appreciate its beauty, nodding his head in appreciation at the sculpture of his oldest ancestor. A gentle rumble of vibration buzzed around his stomach as his leg's intricate workings continued to function. He watched quietly as some of the dignitaries began bowing in the customary way of the OWL.

Left hand to head, heart, then extend. Bless the life you gave to us.

The Order of the White Lady seemed more prominent these days. Their numbers swelled in recent years for reasons unknown. There were so many amongst the Imperial party Lucius felt compelled to oblige and quickly followed suit, despite his own beliefs.

Helena smiled warmly upon seeing the display and stifled a chuckle. She knew Lucius's own beliefs lay entwined with the mighty sun God Belthor, and spent many nights discussing with him the fundamentals of the faith she herself practised. It amused her to see him honour the order openly. Such were the needs of an Emperor to his people it seemed.

Crystal clear water sparkled in the morning sun as it gushed over the statue's pristine stone. The rock was mined from the distant mountains of Trian's Namoleon belt, more than two thousand leagues away. A giant monument that rose sixty feet into the air and was said to have been blessed by the Gods themselves. Two great figures stood at its centre. One, a beautiful maiden with hair that hung far down her back. The other, a large man of noble face crouched on one knee. He presented a broadsword to the smiling maiden, who in return extended a flower back to him. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and brought many to gaze upon it.

'A truly wondrous creation,' announced Helena, feeling the need to comment since her husband seemed unable. Or uninterested,

'The Trian's bestow a great honour upon our society, to which, Cowldonia is thankful.' There were a few cheers of acknowledgement throughout the group. Lucius smiled at his wife, and nodded.

'Right, shall we continue? There's still lots to see and not much time.' the Mayor said before leaving. Her black and burgundy robes caught high in the air as she marched briskly off to the tour's next point of interest.

The Imperial party came to the end of the giant courtyard and started to climb up a wide staircase lined with perfectly trimmed orange flower bushes down its centre, and gold banisters either side.

'Umlie may be the largest trading point in Empire, but its real importance lies in its schools. Which we all know teaches various crafts and skills, that citizens from all over the globe can use for the rest of their lives. It is also home to the first founding of the Sect of Sisters, who currently reside over the school's management and upkeep.' As the group reached the top of the stairs, the Mayor stepped forth with her arms spread wide and spoke again.

'My Lords and Ladies I give you, The Schools of Umlie.'

The party was greeted by a truly spectacular site. A huge structure dominated the immediate distance, which drew many gasps of joy from those that saw it. The building itself was a work of art, a true feat of Cowldonian architecture. Umlie city was built around the lands linking the Hamyian crossing together, but the famous school itself was nestled high in the air, above the turbulent waters. The entire structure sat suspended in the air, atop a series of colossal arched legs, interlinked at its centre like a huge stone spider. Its mass spanned the entire width of the Western Hamiyan river. The legs not only supported the building's immense weight, but also acted like stairway to allow passage into the schools. Heavy iron doors covered with beautifully carved murals marked the building's entrance, each one depicting a significant event in history.

The Imperial group stood awed by its beauty, watching the busy happenings below with great interest. Dozens of merchant vessels sailed peacefully underneath the floating structure, alongside ships crammed full of tourists. It was a bustling hive of activity. All of which failed to stir the Emperor's wandering thoughts.

Lucius gazed nonchalantly across the thriving market area with no sign of emotion. He'd seen the schools a hundred times before, and just wanted to continue with this annoying and rather tiresome affair, so it would end sooner.

He tried unsuccessfully to ignore the Mayor's irritating voice, but the woman continued to spit out facts and historical events relating to the city. He cast his grey eyes towards the raised plateau of an airship dock, hanging over the streets that they seemed to be approaching, and smiled.

At least they'll be refreshments soon. he thought.

As Lucius liked his lips in anticipation, Helena felt a tug on her formal gown which drew her attention downward. The black fabric of her gold threaded sleeve was fixed with a little hand.

'Please mummy, I don't want to see the schools just yet. Can't I go to the markets below? It really would be far more exciting.' The young Prince pulled his special face with hopes of sealing the deal. He knew his mother could not resist such a thing.

'Miss Emily says it would be a good learning experience as well.' he added suddenly, much to the discomfort of his tutor, who blushed brightly after being put on the spot.

'It would be good for the Prince to see the markets first-hand. Since his studies are currently focused on international trade.' she said quickly, trying to redeem her composure. She knew Alex well enough to know he was just making it up, but went along with it anyway. Secretly she agreed. The markets would indeed prove to be far more stimulating than continuing on with the main group.

'Well, I don't suppose it would be a problem,' Helena said warmly, 'but you'll have to run it by your father as well. He is the Emperor after all.' she whispered, exchanging a chuckle.

She looked back to her husband, whose attention seemed focused solely on picking the hairs off his finely pressed tunic, and shook her head.

'What was that?' responded Lucius dully, 'Oh, yes, yes of course let the boy go explore. It would be good for him. Have an escort take him down, but he is to return by the end of the tour. I don't want to be left waiting any longer than necessary.' he muttered the last comment which didn't go unnoticed by his wife, but she chose to ignore it.

Sergeant Haze stepped smartly forward to offer his service.

'I shall escort them personally, my lord.' he said boldly, giving a short bow. The Emperor nodded as he replied.

'Good. Then I shall hold you personally responsible if anything were to happen. Meet us at the airship dock when you're done sightseeing.'

The sergeant thrust a clenched fist into his glittering chest plate in salute, before dismissing himself. He assigned a fresh-faced corporal to take charge of the troop, then detached four soldiers to accompany him. Haze led Miss Hutkinson away, with the Prince laughing and cheering. Alex skipped gleefully behind the group of soldiers, who led them down a sloped path cut into the embankment, towards the waiting markets.

A faint whistle sliced through the air, indicating the fuel reserves in the Emperor's leg were running low. Lucius groaned, then waved over an attendant as the Empress watched her son skip away. He huffed as another cell was hastily inserted.

'Blasted contraption, haven't they designed something better yet?' he moaned as a gold-plated canister was replaced. A puff of steam vented from his knee, indicated the procedure was complete. The mechanical instrument he bore was the finest of its kind. Expertly wrought by the finest craftsmen. Its slick operation and ornate design made it far superior to those more common varieties, though to Lucius, it remained little more than a burden on his character. He turned his attention back to the Mayor, who was eager to move them on, and waved for her to continue.

The remaining party members continued their march towards the plateau. A short flight of steps brought them onto its surface, and the hulking mass of a wooden airship waiting to take off. A smartly dressed attendant greeted the Imperial family's arrival with a bow. Standing before a beautifully wrought wooden carriage, the attendant opened the gondola door, indicating they should enter. The Knight Class airship wasn't the smallest of its kind, but more than large enough to accompany the entire party comfortably. Its steam powered engine chugged idly as the passengers were seated. Some of whom placed overlapped hands to their chest and offered prayers to the vengeful sky God, Jakkaro, in hopes of a safe flight.

The carriage's interior was equally lavish. Its plush walls were lined with red leather and rich fabrics lined its windows. The seats were draped with thick animal pelts and bore the Gildane family crest engraved into the backrests. It was a carriage truly worthy of an Emperor to ride in.

Once they were all in position, and the door sealed, the attendant pulled out a silver whistle from the depths of his silk waistcoat and blew sharply, signalling the pilot it was time to proceed. Twin props mounted either side the vessel began to spin rapidly as the pressurised system drove the engine on, venting steam into the air as slowly the airship began to lift.

The ground shrank quickly as the vessel moved through the air. Its clattering engines took them over the packed markets below and across the vast ocean-like river towards a similar platform, jutting out from the spider-building's northern face.

Passengers aboard a passing ship waved frantically towards the sky, as they recognised the Imperial colours of green and brown hanging proudly from the airship.

Lucius sneered distastefully at the fools as he looked down from the gondola's window, but waved back regardless.

Don't they have anything better to do?

He grunted to himself then placed a hand on his mechanical leg. The polished metal was cool to the touch. He traced a finger subconsciously around it's gold-plated trim as he looked across to his wife, noting the concerned look on her slender face.

'Helena, what's wrong? Does the air voyage trouble you?' he asked, looking into her dark eyes. She smiled weakly at him.

'We're getting an awfully long way from the markets. Do you think Alex will be alright?'

'Haze is with him, I'm sure he'll be fine,' replied Lucius softly, gripping her hand, 'Nobody would dare tangle with that old veteran. Besides, this was your idea!' he added coyly. Helena's smile broadened.

'I know, but I'm beginning to regret it.'

'He'll be back in no time, you'll see.' But her husband's words did little to ease the dull ach of fear nibbling at her heart.

The ship continued its ascent, moving in line with the landing platform in a matter of moments. The pilot skilfully vented enough steam from the system as the vessel drew near, reducing the upward thrust of its rotors as they began to descend. The airship touched down smoothly on the landing platform spraying dust into the air. A plethora of attendants waited close by as its engines ceased, and to let the dust settled before opening the carriage doors.

Common citizens could never afford such an extravagant luxury as this, and would be expected to climb up the building's mammoth staircase legs by foot. But this was the Emperor of the largest and most powerful nation on the planet. No expense was spared.

Once safely disembarked the party continued with its annual tour, spurred on by the energetic Mayor. A pair of huge iron doors greeted the approaching group as they stepped off the windy landing platform. An entrance usually reserved for those of noble birth and great status.

Beautifully crafted, the doors depicted the last moments of the Great Mother before becoming one with the planet, in a torrent of water. The remaining members of the God family watched helplessly above, mourning her passing.

The magnificent doors opened silently as they drew close, allowing the party to enter. Their ears met with the sound of music along with cheers from those who had gathered to bear witness of the Emperor's arrival. Polished instruments sparkled in the golden sunlight and citizens waved flags and clapped. The party made its way through the mass of adorning subjects, under the direction the garrulous tour guide, who continued to lecture the group as she had always done. Much to the Emperor's frustration.

*****

Everyday hundreds of ships passed through the Tu'mar Crossing to deliver their cargo, sailing from all parts of the Empire and often beyond. Merchants of all kinds came to sell their wares in the huge market areas that littered the Hamiyan rivers' banks. A network of stalls and shops, filled with all kinds of wonders, brought from the far corners of the globe. Crowds of people occupied its busy docks, haggling with traders to get the best deal possible. The air swelled with pungent exotic aromas as dozens of barbeques and griddles cooked rare delicacies.

The young Prince, Alexander Gildane, stood in awe as he tried to take everything in, testing the encyclopaedic knowledge of his tutor Miss Hutkinson at every available opportunity. But even she became strained, trying to answer the endless flow of questions.

Alex watched curiously as a deep-sea pirate spit roasted a strange fish, over a roaring driftwood fire. The brightly coloured flesh gave off a distinctively salty and slightly smoked aroma that filled Alex's nostrils, making his mouth water. He moved on to the next booth, which was draped in fabulously coloured fabrics, patterned scarves and strange wind chimes. He smiled at the funny collection of small hairy animals crawling over the stall. The boy became drawn towards a furry blue creature that had clearly eaten one too many treats. He reached out to pet the fluffy beast, but stopped when Sergeant Haze advised otherwise.

'Sire, if that thing bites and you break out in some kind of tropical fever it'll be my neck that hangs!'

'I'm sorry Sergeant,' replied Alex, 'I did not see the harm.' Haze rubbed a hand across his thick moustache and grunted.

'You need not apologise my Lord. It's my duty to see you're safe until we are returned to the Emperor.'

The boy smiled, then noticed the striped colours of green and brown running down the soldier's arms. His family's colours. It wasn't the first time Haze had offered his services to look after the Prince. One day, Alex would be in charge of these men, and dearly hoped the sergeant would still be among them to protect him.

The small party moved on, exploring further into the market. They came across a group of Salushun dancers, which the Prince insisted they simply had to stay and watch. The boy clapped with glee whilst watching the graceful movements of the foreign dancers. Sergeant Haze spent the time watching the busy market for threats.

'It's getting late, I think it's time for us to make our way back.' announced the sergeant suddenly. Miss Hutkinson also agreed that it was time to leave, much too the Prince's disappointment, and they started to head back.

Their progress was slow, due to the streets being so thick with activity, so Haze decided it best to cut through the quieter alleyways, hoping to avoid the worst of the mayhem.

It was there they met a group of robed figures, who stood huddled in the narrow alley, one of which greeted the party as they approached. Sergeant Haze dismissed the figure at first. His attention was focused more on their late return. But the soldier stopped after realising that it was not just some backstreet salesman, but in fact a Timmetan monk from the distant region of Trian.

'Greetings to you all, great children of Tumarr!' The Trian said proudly, 'I am Pretoc, Warden of Kitos. I bid you blessings from the All Father, on such a fine and prosperous day.'

The monk lowered his hood then bowed low before the group, setting the tone for his fellow companions, who did the same.

'Hello.' said Alex quickly, stepping towards the monk. It was the first time the Prince had come across a citizen of Trian, the proud rat-like race who lived in the mountainous region far to the east. They were rarely seen amongst the Empire, particularly since relations between the two nations was often strained.

He looked curiously at the hairless creature, noting the soreness of its reddened skin, and the shrivelled stumps of its burnt whiskers. His tail lay limply on the ground, where Alex saw several ribbons of parchment tied along its ribbed length.

'I am Alexander, and this is-'

'Not the time for idle chit-chat with random strangers!' Haze interjected, coming to stand between the two.

'Sire, we really must be on our way back.' He placed a hand on the young boy's shoulder and lent close.

'It would be unwise to speak about our business to this...creature.'

'It's alright Sergeant,' the monk said suddenly, 'we know of your mission and mean not to hinder you in this task.' Haze looked at the monk puzzled, then stood to face him.

'How do you know that Trian?' he said coolly. Pretoc's long rodent face smiled in response to the question, further creasing his wrinkled head.

'The All Father provides. It was he who brought me a vision of this meeting. We humbly ask if we may join your escort of the Prince out of the market.'

The party were taken back by what the monk said, except for Alex who was very keen on the idea, but also a little naive of the situation. Timmetan monks lived solitary lives in their ancient windswept temples, high up in the great mountainous region of Trian. Often, they would travel on long pilgrimages, sometimes venturing into the Empire. But it was not known for them to have dealings with other cultures whilst on these journeys of spiritual enlightenment. The monks shunned their own race, for some unknown reason, even to the point where their fur was painfully removed from their bodies. A cleansing of the soul, some would say, in devotion to mighty Slarr, their deity.

'You honour us Warden, but there really is no need.' said Miss Hutkinson, who tried also to deter the monk's unexpected offer with a warm, but slightly nervous smile. The other two monks had now come forward to join their leader, and both bowed respectfully before the prince.

'So few in your group. Don't you priests usually travel in larger numbers?' asked Alex. The monks looked down at the boy and smiled.

'You are correct young Prince, we do. But our brothers have not yet finished their morning sermons, and will join us later. Tell me, do you know much of our ways?' Pretoc asked.

'Alex has spent many hours studying the distant races of the world, and their homelands. My student has shown a particular interest in your nation, though we know painfully little.' offered Miss Hutkinson. Pretoc smiled.

'For that we are grateful. You honour us.'

'Perhaps, as way of thanks we might be able to answer some of your questions, whilst we accompany you?' said one of the other monks. His hands were hidden from view inside his heavy robes, so not to show off the many scars he bore.

Little is known about the true nature of the monk's order, other than seeking redemption for the All Fathers wrong doings, centuries ago. A devotion that bordered close to fanaticism, but served them well in battle. Like all Trian's, the monks made fearful opponents. Sergeant Haze was more than aware of this and eyed the trio wearily.

'An excellent notion, Brother Addius.' said Pretoc, placing a clawed hand on his companion's shoulder.

'It's agreed then,' declared Alex, 'you are to accompany us until we reach my father.' Pretoc smiled and bowed once more, this time lower.

'On my honour.' he said solemnly.

Haze was far from happy and tried to object, but the Prince insisted they accept and reluctantly, the veteran soldier obeyed. He quietly told his men to remain alert while the monks moved ahead.

Together the small group made their way back, with the trio of monks taking the lead. Haze quietly ordered two of his men to drop to the rear of the group, whilst the remainder flanked the prince, clearly unhappy with what had just happened. They grumbled quietly amongst themselves, but were soon hushed by their sergeant.

The crazed shoppers on the bustling market streets made way for the monks as they walked silently along, eager to avoid the mysterious figures. Time passed slowly as they travelled towards the airship dock.

The grizzled sergeant became concerned when the monks turned the wrong way down a side alley, away from their destination.

'Warden, I think we should have gone the other way.' he said firmly.

'This path will lead us quicker to your destination.' Pretoc replied without looking back. Haze was unsure, but decided to go along for the moment as they continued further down the narrow pathway. Miss Hutkinson noticed the diminishing sound of the noisy trading area until it was completely lost to an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps. She shared a concerned look with the Sergeant. They both knew that something was not right.

The path brought them out to an enclosed courtyard with four gated exits. The place was empty, except for a robed figure sitting silently on a bench next to a fountain in the courtyard's centre. Pretoc stopped when the Prince asked him a question.

'Warden Pretoc, is it true your race wields the power of Keir?' he asked suddenly.

'Would you like a demonstration?' replied the monk calmly.

'Oh yes please, that would be marvellous to see-'

'Out of the question my lord, it's completely forbidden!' protested Haze, his face starting to darken. But the Monk ignored the sergeant and signalled for his brothers to proceed. Seconds later, one of the monk's hands parted from his heavy robes and formed a small ball of fizzing energy at the end of his clawed finger. He threw it towards a flock of birds, that happened to be passing, and caught one in the chest. The hapless creature exploded in a cloud of gore and feathers, as the crackling ball instantly vaporised it.

Prince Alex clapped with glee, but the moment was short lived when his soldier bodyguards suddenly drew their swords.

'How dare you commit such a heinous act in front of us!' yelled Haze, his face flushed with rage. He came before the monk with a hand on his sword; his knuckles whitening from his clenched grip around the pommel.

Pretoc remained calm, and looked slowly across the group.

'Is something wrong?' he asked honestly, 'I thought Brother Atheily's display of our teachings was more than adequate for your viewing.'

'This is a holy place, you cur! Your blasphemous conjuring and blatant disregard for our beliefs have desecrated the spirit of the Tumarr family.'

'I only sought to please the young Prince. If we offended you, then I sincerely apologise. It was not our intent.'

'Not your intent. Belthor's teeth, what did you expect! That power is forbidden, it is too dangerous to wield. The Gods decreed it so.'

'Your Gods, perhaps. But that is not true of our God. It is by the All father's hand that we bare the privilege of its use.' countered the monk.

'And therein lies the fault!' snarled Haze. The bristles of his thick moustache seemed to stand on end.

'Please sergeant, the fault lies with me. I didn't see the harm.' said Alex, hoping to diffuse the growing tension. Haze turned to look at the boy.

'No Sire, I'm to blame. I should have never allowed us to be in the company of these honourless wretches.'

'Careful Sergeant. It would be unwise to provoke us.' said Pretoc coolly. Haze stepped forward.

'You dare threaten me?' he said dangerously. Pretoc chuckled softly and shook his head.

'No. I am merely stating a fact.'

The sergeant snorted at the remark, and held the monk's gaze for several long moments. After what seemed like an eternity, he stepped back with a huff, then ordered his men to stand down. Alex noted the sly grin, creeping over Pretoc's inflamed face when the soldier's back was turned. It was the first time the monk looked sinister and made the Prince feel uneasy.

The Trian then turned his attention back to the Prince once more, fixing the boy with a gentle smile.

'I think it's best we end our, congregation. For the sake of all parties. But first, a final question. Tell me, Master Gildane, do you know of the monks travelling song?' he asked in his usual calm manner. Alex shook his head nervously.

'An ancient hymn. Long been taught in our brotherhood. Said to have been created by the grand elder monk, Ramoss, whilst journeying on the first pilgrimage of enlightenment. Would you like to hear it?'

Sergeant Haze felt his temper rise once more. At this rate the Emperor would have him flogged for not getting the boy back to the city's main entrance in time.

'We must leave at once. The Emperor is waiting. I'm taking us back.' he growled impatiently. But the monk didn't reply. Instead, Pretoc remained still, and stared at the Prince as if there was no one else around.

'Didn't you hear me, Trian? I said we're going. Stand aside and let us pass now, or there'll be consequences.' The steel edge of the sergeant's voice did little to move the Monks. All of them remained frozen in place. Their feline eyes glazed as they focused on the boy.

Miss Hutkinson gasped as a sudden chill ran down the length of her back, making the poor woman shudder. She began rubbing her arms and was starting to feel seriously uncomfortable. Another flock of birds raced through the sky, squawking noisily as they left the safety of a nearby tree. The sudden disturbance made her cry out in fright. The tense situation was beginning to get the best of her, and she wanted desperately to get away.

It was then the monks began to hum softly together in unison. A deep monotone sound resonated from their throats, which although strange, was calming to hear. A short time later, Pretoc began to sing in the ancient language of his forefathers, a song which Alex found most intriguing, even though he could not understand any of the words. Haze spoke again, insisting they leave, but the Prince couldn't hear. Alex had become completely mesmerised by the monk's song and stared deeply into Pretoc's cat-like eyes.

Fatigue swept through his young body, blurring his vision. He fought to remain awake. Alex became so fixated on the monk he failed to see anything besides the movement of the Trian's cracked lips, who continued to sing.

The robed figure sitting by the fountain, who'd so far remained still, rose from his seat and moved silently towards the group whilst Alex was yawning. The boy could feel his eyelids grow impossibly heavy. He felt something tug at his body, but he could not look down. He was frozen, and continued to stare wearily at the monk. Distant sounds of voices echoed faintly in his ears, but they were so far away he could barely distinguish them.

A large clawed hand was the last thing Prince Alexander saw before finally succumbing to darkness, and the hypnotic sounds issuing from the Warden's lips as he went into a deep sleep.

D.R. Hurley

Three

It is said the Children of Tumarr were intended to be the sole guardians of planet Kargos. Protectors, whose charge was to uphold the globe's beauty, and honour its spirit. A gift, left to them by their creators, who gave the ultimate sacrifice so that their children's lives could flourish. And flourish they did. But instead of nurturing life and preserving the goodness in the land they took all that could be spared, leaving nothing but death it its place.

Now these insects, these Hwethgar, seek only to feed their insatiable desires. They are a poison. Dark and deadly. Their corrupted reach spreads far across this world, almost to every corner. A grasp rooted deeper than the tallest mountains, and must be stopped. The Gods are displeased. Their flock has turned and must be culled. And so, a new shepherd is sent forth to do their bidding, and tame the plague which sweeps over this world.

He is the Father. And he is coming!

'Move along scum, Inspector's waiting. Don't wanna be late for him!' The ogre's gruff voice was quickly followed by a heavy fist, that careered into the disorientated prisoner's head, knocking him into the wall. The dazed man squinted in the bright light as two monstrous guards dragged him through an endless corridor. Their giant forms scuffing off the walls as they went. The man's heart pounded in fear as he was taken away.

Many of these dim-witted brutes found employment within the Empire as Enforcers, simply because of their imposing presence. Only a fool would dare to confront them. Their huge frames were vastly strong, and pain seldom bothered them, due to the unusual thickness of their skin. They were bullies by nature, slow and stupid. But found pleasure in the torment of other, weaker races, making the Enforcer's role perfectly suited for them.

Bare feet slapped into oily puddles as they continued their march through the blinding passage. The man tripped, and tried to steady himself. But his bound hands found no purchase on the grimy walls, and slid across the manky surface until he fell.

'Ahh sweetie, lost yer balance?' one of the guards taunted, whilst the other kicked him in the back.

The man gasped in pain as the guards' raucous laughter filled the narrow passageway. A meaty hand came down and picked him effortlessly off the floor before shoving him forward. It was a repeated scene that continued for some time. The captive was beaten more at the amusement of the guards, who continued to laugh each time they hit him.

Finally, they came before a large iron door which barred their path. One of the guards stepped forward and struck the thing hard with his fist, speaking through a small hatch that opened soon after.

'Prisoner brought for Boss-Baxi to see. Clearance Malloc, 2513.'

The hatch screeched shut. It was followed shortly after by a sharp hiss of rushing air, as steam vented around the doorway. The ogre seemed untroubled by its scalding touch upon his hairy skin, and stood idly as the door slid open on. He stepped through, then waited as his colleague shoved the prisoner into the opening.

The man fell into a large room that looked clean and well maintained. A stark contrast to what he'd so far been accustomed to. A woman sat behind an organised desk, filling out some sort of paperwork. She ignored the ogre as it fixed its beady eyes upon her, and simply held out a wad of papers as it stomped over. The brute grinned stupidly as it snatched the forms from her grasp, revealing a mouth full of missing teeth; but she chose not to acknowledge him.

The ogre grunted deeply, then stuffed the form into his trouser pocket. After which, he pointed a massive finger towards a door on the other side of the room and the group walked over. The guard called Malloc threw the prisoner inside and followed, slamming the door behind. The remaining guard stood outside, slouching against the wall whilst he waited.

The prisoner looked up from the floor, casting his dark eyes about the sparsely furnished room, and tried to ignore the pain from his aching body. A large wooden table and two chairs was all he saw. A bald figure sat quietly at the table's far side, watching him with interest. A few moments passed, then the stranger politely asked the prisoner to sit.

At first the man was slow to rise, until the ogre kicked him. The man scrambled to his feet then hobbled away from the brute, noting the smug grin stretched over its ugly face.

'Look, whatever this is, I didn't do it ok, there must be a mistake.' the man said hastily, drawing a confused look on the stranger's face.

'Mistake? Oh no I don't think so. Mistakes are something this department doesn't make. So please I invite you, take a seat.'

The prisoner sat cautiously while looking nervously around, recoiling from the ogre's presence as it came to stand directly behind him. Its huge form towered over the man, who shuddered as its warm breath washed over him. The stranger remained silent and eyed the prisoner coolly, rubbing the bristles of his fine goatee. He finally dismissed the creature with a wave of his bony hand and began to speak.

'I see you have been well looked after.' he said dryly as the prisoner watched the guard stomp away.

'Well then, let's get to it. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Baxi. Rymund Baxi. Jyonti District Inspector. I'm taking over this investigation since its former head, Inspector Sarrso, has unfortunately been reassigned. Now, as I'm sure your aware, you are here because the Emperor's son was kidnapped three days ago and-'

'I didn't do it.' snapped the man, halting the Inspector.

Baxi's eyebrow raised as he took in man's response. The tight curve of a smile formed around the edge of his mouth.

'Really? Well, I for one would beg to differ. Since we found you at the scene of the crime covered in blood.'

'What?' cried the man. His eyes widening in fear at the Inspector's statement.

Baxi's smile broadened upon seeing his reaction, and chuckled softly to himself before continuing.

'Oh come now my good fellow, don't try to pretend. Just tell us what you know and maybe the Emperor will be merciful.'

'I don't know anything, I swear.' the man said defiantly. He continued to protest his innocence as the ogre, Malloc, repositioned himself again. Shifting his tremendous bulk across the room until the guard finally came to a rest against the wooden door, slumping heavily against it. The door creaked angrily in response to the sudden weight exerted upon it.

'I'm telling you I don't know. I can't remember anything.'

'How convenient.' muttered the Inspector.

'It's true. Just look at these burns, they're everywhere. The girl said it's why I can't remember anything-'

'What girl?' asked Baxi curiously as the ogre casually un-hooked a large polar baton dangling from his belt.

Malloc toyed idly with the weapon, handling it with a surprising amount of dexterity between his stubby fingers as the two men argued. His beady eyes scanned up and down the thing as his dim mind tried to decipher its intricate workings.

In truth it was little more than a simple club, about the length of a man's forearm, utterly devoid of decoration save for a leather wrapped hand grip. A set of purple stones were pressed into the club's wooden surface, which emitted a faint glow. Once broken the stones would burn furiously, enveloping the club in searing lilac fire.

Malloc's tiny eyes sparkled at the sight of the stones. He longed to see them burn. The lilac flames were most fascinating to watch, and the aroma was quite pleasant. He rubbed the baton gently with his finger and smiled dumbly to himself. No one would mind if he sparked them, would they? He didn't hear the Inspector's call. Or respond when he stood.

Eventually, Malloc looked up and was met by the hard stare of Inspector Baxi, who was now standing close to him with hands on hips. Baxi's baleful glare passed between the weapon Malloc cradled in his ham-sized fist and the prisoner. The ogre straightened and looked uncomfortable, shrugging its immense shoulders shamefully after realising the Inspector's meaning. Baxi shook his head disapprovingly and pinched the brow of his nose.

How stupid to leave him in the care of those, morons. What in all the Gods' name was Sarrso thinking? No wonder the system is in shambles!

He tore his gaze away from the brute and walked quietly back to the prisoner.

'I'm sorry. Please forgive the interruption. It was most unprofessional,' he said, fixing the ogre with a hard stare. Malloc shuffled uncomfortably under his baleful gaze and scratched himself nervously.

'Now, where were we?' continued Baxi, while pulling out his chair.

'You were about to let me go.' the prisoner replied. Baxi smiled in return, then sat down. He opened a small folder laying on the polished wooden table. It contained several pieces of paper which he removed.

'So, you don't know anything. Well, it would seem fortune favours you today since we just happen to know everything about you, Leos.'

A puzzled look instantly formed on the face of the man who sat opposite.

Leos? Is that my name? he thought to himself.

'Let's see here. Raised in an orphanage on West Barn Road until the age of ten, where you fled to the streets of Bangarrow and began a life of crime. Six counts of burglary, seven for assault, thieving. Says here you became a member of the notorious Black Hand Gang, very nice crowd to be hanging round with...'

If the fragile mind of the prisoner wasn't already confused enough, then now it was completely shattered, because everything the Inspector had said to him was swallowed up by the black, oily pool of his mind. None of it was at all familiar.

'The list goes on, but I won't. I think we can all see what kind of a picture is being painted here.'

The prisoner's expression remained blank as his thoughts drew inwards.

Leos...

If that is my name, then maybe those other things are true?

No, it can't be. He's lying!

The creaking table brought his mind back as Baxi leaned closer.

'So, Leos. Is there something you wish to tell me?'

The prisoner slowly leaned forward to meet the Inspector, and stared back at him for a moment before answering.

'I've already told you. I don't know anything!' he said crossly, tired of all this nonsense. Baxi sighed deeply then rose. His wooden chair scraped noisily across the floor as he stood.

'Then I'm afraid I'll just have to help you, since you can't remember. Guard, restrain him.'

The prisoner jumped in fear as two massive hands clamped down onto his shoulders, pinning him to the chair. The ogre had appeared out of nowhere and now held him in an unbreakable grip, which gave Baxi time to move close and press his bony fingers onto his temples.

Leos felt a burst of pain the moment their skin touched, followed by an explosion of images erupting in his mind as the Inspector forced him to watch his memories of the crime scene.

'Let me take you back to where it happened, scum. Let your mind see what my eyes have!' hissed Baxi through gritted teeth.

Leos watched helplessly as his mind was transported along snaking alleyways and unfamiliar streets. Drifting like a ghost for an undetermined time, he finally arrived at a small enclosed courtyard with four gated exits and gasped at the scene of violence laid out before him.

He saw a blood drenched fountain sitting in a courtyard of stone, surrounded with bodies. Its once clear waters now gushed crimson. Numerous corpses littered the area, their limbs were smashed into unnatural angles and flesh punctured by white bones. The dead wore striped uniforms, they were all soldiers, and seemed to have fallen in a ring around another.

The body of woman lay nestled amongst the group. Harbouring the same amount of torture. All the victims looked as though they'd been ripped apart by a pack of wild animals...

'Tell me traitor, what was the price for betraying your beloved Empire? Wealth? Power?' Position? Answer me now!'

The distant sound of Inspector Baxi's voice reverberated painfully throughout Leos's mind as the dream continued...

His presence once again moved uncontrollably amongst the scene of slaughter. Floating slowly around the circle of death until it settled upon its centre.

A small tunic bearing the striped colours of green and brown lay pinned to the ground by an ornate bronze dagger. The jacket itself was clean and free from gore, much like the stone around it, and had the Gildane family crest pinned to its breast...

The horrific image thrust into his mind was too much for the prisoner to bear. He managed to break free of the Inspector's grip and threw himself to the floor, just as his stomach emptied. A deep rumble of laughter split the air as the guard Malloc watched, clearly amused by the captive's ordeal.

The Inspector placed a hand on the table to steady himself after the exertion, and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. Once he was composed, he walked slowly around the man's crouching form.

'I will ask you again, traitor. What happened to the Prince?' Leos remained kneeling on the floor coughing for a minute before speaking.

'I've already told you, I'm innocent. I know nothing of this Prince.' he wiped his mouth before sitting back in the wooden chair, slumping onto the table. Baxi's stare hardened.

'We found your worthless body at the scene, covered in blood. A scrap of parchment, listing the Trian's demands, was in your possession.'

'That's Impossible! It's lies, all lies I tell you.'

'The only thing I find impossible is that someone would actually want to betray our great nation.'

'No!' shouted Leos, but the Inspector slammed both hands onto the table in response.

'Tell me!' he cried, finally losing his temper. But the prisoner continued his pleas of innocence. Baxi wanted to throttle the fool, but instead got up from the table and paced around in an attempt to calm himself.

'Ok, you win,' he sighed deeply. Baxi rubbed the bridge of his nose gently as he spoke,

'It's clear to see we're not getting anywhere like this. Malloc, would you please restrain him again?'

With a speed that defied his enormous bulk, the ogre wrapped his huge arms around Leos, fixing him once more to his chair in an inescapable bear hug. Baxi moved close then reached out with his long bony fingers, clamping them hard on to the prisoner's forehead, who tried in vain to shake himself free but could not. The ogre's power was just too much.

Leos struggled as pain surged into his head once more, aggressive and hostile. He felt a stinging presence bore into his mind, trying to force its way into his conscious like a parasite. But before it had a chance to take hold the intruding presence was attacked by a sharp burst of energy that smashed into it. The reflex was so strong it severed the mind connection and pushed both the Inspector and Malloc back several paces.

Baxi gasped in shock from the expulsion, and grasped his head. He stood disorientated for a while trying to figure out what had just happened. He cast his eyes back to the prisoner, who looked equally bewildered.

'So, you're a Medion, and a powerful one too! How interesting. But don't worry, those little tricks won't work on me.' he said darkly.

Leos stared back in surprise, unsure of what just happened. His hands moved unconsciously to rub the purple bruises on his arms.

'I too am a Medion, boy! The foremost of my order. I could turn your mind into a jabbering pile of slush if I wish, so don't tempt my patience.'

The Inspector suddenly leapt towards Leos with arms outstretched. He grabbed hold of the prisoner then thrust a free hand onto his head, trying to re-establish the mind link. Pain returned to Leos's head, only much worse than before. He cried out as Baxi forced his conscious into his own, delving deep into his mind with such aggression that he neutralised the prisoner's psychic defences instantly, leaving him free to delve into the subject's memories un-oppressed.

Baxi knew had to act quickly. It takes great skill for a person to force their way into another's consciousness. The mind is as much a living thing as the body it's encased, and will naturally try to defend itself from foreign invaders.

At first the Inspector found nothing. The void of nothingness which made up Leos's mind was empty, just as he said. He scoured the darkness carefully. The passage of time moved slower in this place compared to reality. It felt like hours had passed before Baxi finally noticed a faint glimmer of light, lodged amidst the depths of the prisoner's mind. His presence moved instantly towards it.

As he travelled, Baxi saw the light split into a blur of tiny fragments, each of them formed the basis of a picture. He'd done it. The man's memories were before him, now he just had to find the Prince. He pressed on harder, spurred on by this development, but the images remained distant no matter how far he travelled. Baxi was determined not to fail. He thrust himself deeper into the prisoner's mind then he had ever done so before...

Outside, the pair showed signs of struggle from the invisible battle. Sweat poured down the contorted features of both men as they fought both mentally and physically against one another. Veins bulged on the Inspector's head as he drove himself to the limits of his skill. Baxi knew time was running out. His strength was fading.

His conscious pressed on. Traveling at speed until it was close enough to make out some of the images locked within the prisoner's mind.

An arched door with the word Mostin written above.

A child, partially submerged inside a vat of boiling fluid, screaming in agony.

The Inspector stopped before an image of a strange being, floating above the ground. Its flesh was deathly pale. A terrible wail ripped through the void as its black eyes locked onto Baxi, so loud it shattered the mind bond...

The Inspector was brought screaming back into reality seconds later. The force of the separation threw him across the room like a rag doll, crashing to the floor in a sprawled heap.

He awoke sometime after, shaking with exhaustion. His body was damp with sweat and he felt dizzy. The world seemed to darken as a shadow fell over him.

Malloc leaned over the Inspector with genuine concern.

'What happened, Boss? He get you again?'

Baxi drew deep lungfuls of air to catch his breath and wiped the mass of perspiration from his bald head with a shaky hand. He looked upon towards the now unconscious prisoner slumped over the table.

'I do good, Boss, huh?' Malloc asked with a chuckle, helping the disorientated Inspector back to his feet.

Baxi didn't reply and continued to stare at the man despite his delirium. He reached for the bottle of Fogberry juice nestled within his waistcoat and took a draft to numb the pain of his throbbing head, balking at the bitter taste.

'Lock this scum up,' he said finally, 'I'll make arrangements for him to be sent to the High Courts and stand trial!'

Still dazed, the Inspector straightened his coat and made for the rooms exit, but turned back before leaving. He looked at the prisoner one last time, noting the dull ache in his stomach he usually trusted when something was not right.

'Malloc,' he said to the ogre, who looked down at him with a toothless grin, 'be a good fellow and clean up this mess.'
D.R. Hurley

Four

The lingering odour of fresh paint hung faintly in the air, filling the nostrils of General Marcus Zion as he walked through a recently decorated corridor in the Emperor's palace. The short airship ride from command headquarters to the capital was unfathomably late, and put the General in an unsightly mood.

Now, as he strode past the various portraits of noble lords and famous leaders, his mind envisioned numerous ways of flogging the idle piolet's whose stupidity risked making him late for his appointment.

The time served soldier ensured his appearance was immaculate as he made his way towards the parade grounds, and his waiting army. Nothing was out of place, and everything was exactly the way it was supposed to be. His polished boots sparkled in the morning light beaming through the windows, while the rack of medals pinned to his barrel chest glistened like new. The impressive rack of trophies swung gently as he walked, but were a mere trifle when compared to the one worn around his neck. The Cowldonian Star. The highest accolade a soldier could possibly hope to attain.

Beautifully wrought from black silver, the five-pointed star was a symbol of bravery, integrity and devotion of the highest calibre. A thumb sized piece of moonstone rested in its centre, finishing the piece. It was the General's most treasured and possession.

A long feather clock completed him, sitting perfectly on his broad shoulders. The lavish garment looked as if it had been made that very morning and was a testament to his authority. If there was any criticism to be had about the General's appearance it would be of his scared face.

The long years of service had not been kind to this proud and powerful warrior. His ageing scalp was cropped short with silver hair, revealing a myriad of injury's adoring his skull. The largest ran the entire length of his weathered face, a wound which caused the loss of his right eye several years ago.

Rather than cover it with a patch, the General chose to fill the empty socket with a cloudy, milk coloured orb that glowed red in dull light. Crude as it may sound, he used it as a psychological weapon against his foes to enhance an already menacing appearance. Indeed, he was an ugly brute of a man. But also, a powerful and frightening one.

'Lieutenant Kapple, how close are we to locating his lordship's son?' he growled to the younger officer trying to keep pace with him.

'The search continues, my Lord General. But we do have the traitor found at the scene in custody, and our best man is questioning him as we speak.' It was a response the Lieutenant knew would displease his leader and braced himself accordingly.

Marcus stopped and fixed the youth with a hard glare.

'You mean to tell me that it's been three days and we're still no closer to finding him? What am I supposed to tell the Emperor later when he asks for an update on the kidnapping?'

There was no reply. But it didn't matter. Marcus already knew what he was going to tell the Emperor. News of the Trian monks' capture had already reached his ear. They were apprehended several leagues east of Umlie, heading back to their filthy lands no doubt. The trio of monks travelled alone, and had already parted with the Prince's company. Predictably they failed to reveal his whereabouts. A painful setback since it would be several days before the conspirators arrived in Jyonti for further interrogation, and by then Prince Alex could be anywhere. If he wasn't already dead.

Those dogs, he thought to himself, I'll see their lands burn for this!

The nervous Lieutenant tried to change the subject by confirming the morning's proceedings, but his diversion did little to improve the General's mood. Clearly, he had other things on his mind.

They walked to the end of the corridor where two armed soldiers stood in front of a pair of large wooden doors. They stood straighter upon seeing the General, and raised their swords in salute as he approached. Marcus barely acknowledged the men, walking past them with a grunt.

'Tell me, Kapple, are the reports on the Trian militia and defences up to date?' he asked.

'Yes General. As far as we're aware. The latest update from our deep reconnaissance unit was filed ten days ago. I have read the report.'

'What does it say of the Rayamthos defence?'

'It includes accurate information about all areas, including the exact location of its main stronghold.' The General turned to look at the young officer. He seemed to approve of the news.

'Have the report on my desk right away. I wish to review it after the parade.'

The Lieutenant insisted he would see to it immediately and promptly took his leave, saluting with a clenched fist to the chest before he left. Kapple probably thought it might get him into the General's good books.

Fool. Why must I surround myself with idiots! thought Marcus as the dwindling form of the Lieutenant scurried down the corridor. The boy had not so much as smelled a battlefield, let alone fought in one since his commission. How could he put his faith in such untested men?

Not in his army.

He paused a moment whilst thinking. Unconsciously rubbing the large medal hanging from his neck as his mind drifted off to better times.

'My Lord?' questioned one of the guards after a few minutes. Marcus shook himself back into the present and the matter at hand. He gave word for the doors in front to be opened in his usual abrupt manner, and then marched out into the morning light. The brilliance took him out onto a balcony overlooking the parade ground at the eastern side of the palace.

Four thousand eyes loyal to the Empire stared back in anticipation as the General prepared to give his speech. A sharp command from the acting Drill Officer brought the soldiers to attention in one smart movement. Marcus took a moment to survey his beloved army. Soldiers wearing polished chest plates and metal helms stood perfectly still in the morning sun. Hands garbed in thick leather gloves clasped long spears, their hafts held up to the heavens. Flags bearing the Empire's colours of green and brown, stirred lazily in the breeze. The finest army on the planet was his to command. It truly was an honour.

The General felt his barrel chest swell with pride. It was good to be a Cowldonian.

'Soldiers of Cowl! I summon you here today because a great crime has been committed against our nation.' his gruff voice carried easily over the mass of soldiers without the need of amplification.

'We are the victims of a heinous plot which threatens the very future of our great Empire. Villains have kidnapped the Emperor's only heir, Prince Alexander, and threaten his life unless we meet their demands. The treacherous dogs from the east have yet to announce such terms, but I believe it will likely involve releasing lands that we have long fought to protect back into their twisted hands.'

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in.

'I say to you now, my brothers, Cowldonia will not bow before such a thing. The agents of adversity shall not intimidate us. This mighty Empire will not be at the mercy of cowards who prey on the innocent, nor let those steal that which is ours by right. The White Army shall march to the borders of our enemy and demand the Princes release. Lest they risk war.'

A loud cheer erupted from the soldiers which roared through the giant stone courtyard. The General waited for it to dwindle before continuing his speech.

'And if they refuse, if the Prince comes to harm in any way, we shall send them to the Dark Uncle, and see them burn in the Pits of Atholly for all eternity. The Trian scum will rue the day Cowldonia goes to war!'

The soldiers' cheers grew louder as they roared in glorified unison at their commander's words. They chanted his name over and over and thrust fists high into the air. A wolfish smile crept over the General's face as he watched. His hand subconsciously moved to the Cowldonian star hanging from his neck, and grasped it tightly.

Marcus left the balcony shortly after. The dying sounds of chants echoed throughout the corridor as headed for his quarters to begin the necessary preparations. Soon they would be on their way. In the name of justice, he will be triumphant, and his honour would finally be restored.

D.R. Hurley

Five

The task at hand will not be easy since the Hwethgar now threaten his coming, and there must be no threat. The unworthy insects will try to interfere, but we will not let them. For we are the guardians of the Father and must prepare for his return. It is he who will lead us to the grey sands, and to our fate. He, who will take charge of this world and destroy the plague which threatens to overwhelm it. But not yet.

A child he remains and must yet be protected until he is ready. This is our destiny. We have seen it. We must ensure the Father's return. It is our duty to him. The Hwethgar must not interfere. We will not let them!

The startled figure rose from yet another disturbing dream and found himself amidst the all too familiar sight of a grimy prison cell, and the terrible pain still afflicting his body. Leos wiped his damp brow, having forgotten the dream's hissing words. Its meaning would have meant nothing had he remembered, since the spoken language was unknown to him.

He pulled himself off the hard mattress bunk, after yet another restless slumber, and leant against the wall. The tiny room which had been his home for the last day or so was marginally better than those awful chambers he'd met that blue-skinned child in.

Blue-skinned!

He shook his head at the thought. What other surprises did this world have in store for him?

Inspector Baxi had since relocated him to solitary confinement to protect the other prisoners, which suited him anyway since he preferred his own company. He began scratching his arm whilst thinking about his recent ordeal with that man. The purple bruises on his skin remained unchanged, except from becoming itchy. It was several long moments before he noticed the waft of cool air brush over his skin, dislodging his mind from thought.

Leos looked around the damp cell and found to his surprise, the large iron door was open.

Now what's happening? he wondered, eyeing the opening warily. He half expected a guard to come through and drag him away, but there was no movement to be heard beyond his confines. Only silence.

Is that Baxi playing tricks?

Eventually, he succumbed to curiosity and rose to his feet, cautiously stepping over to the door as quietly as possible. Leos peered into a dimly lit corridor, noting the distinct drop in temperature. The cold air made him shiver. He remained still for a while listening, afraid to go any further. It was strangely quiet. No sounds of laughter from guards mocking inmates or prisoners shouting abuse. Only the noise of his own thumping heart pulsed between his ears, and the raw slap of bare flesh onto cold stone as he stepped out into the hall.

Something's wrong.

A thick liquid between his toes, brought his dark eyes down to gaze upon a patch of blood, smeared across the floor. The man suppressed a cry of shock for fear of alerting someone.

Something's definitely wrong!

Leos felt his skin tingle from the sense of death he was now suddenly aware of, and decided to leave. But before turning back to the sanctuary of his cell, he heard something which made him pause.

At first, he thought it nothing, just a trickery of the mind. Until he heard it again. Standing motionless in the doorway he listened curiously to the strange noise which had for some reason paralysed his body. A quiet whisper of a voice lurked faintly in the air, just at the edge of his hearing. He looked carefully around the corridor but saw no one. The voice continued to speak. The language unknown, yet somehow made sense. It wove a seductive web of provocation, enticing the man to follow. Leos's mind became swollen with desire. He Felt compelled to leave and investigate the scarlet trail.

But then, almost as quickly as it had come, the sound vanished, and his wild thoughts of escape withered into nothing. At least for a moment.

Another step brought Leos deeper into the corridor.

What am I doing? I must be crazy. That Ogre, Malloc, must have hit me too hard!

Leos shuffled further into the corridor, against his better judgement. It was eerily quiet, not a soul was in sight. The hairs on his neck rose a little further with every step taken. His heart beat harder and harder. The bloodied trail slithered away into darkness, there seemed no end to it, but he continued to follow cautiously.

The man crept alongside the patches of scattered blood until he entered a large room containing several statues and many rows of chairs. Some sort of meeting room perhaps? The dark path went through to the other side, stopping before a flight of stairs, but unfortunately didn't end. It continued up the stairs with no sign of its source. Leos knew that if he wanted to find it, then he had to climb.

A shaky hand reached out to grasp the cold banister which lined the steps, but his feet remained glued to the floor. He couldn't move. It was too much. The stench of death filled his lungs completely, making him dizzy. Cold sweat began sliding down his back as he began questioning himself. What if there was a body up there, what then? What if it wasn't dead? What if the killer was still there?

The uncertainty he faced brought him back to his senses. Why should he care? Let the guards deal with it. He was already in enough trouble as it was and had been lucky so far. The best thing to do was head back to his cell and hope no one caught him creeping around.

With his mind now set, Leos pulled his hand away from the banister and turned back. He didn't want to become involved in some foul murder which, knowing his luck, that crackpot Inspector would try and pin on him as well. Worse yet, he could end up being the killer's next victim! Being tried for treason was a much better option since he could still prove himself innocent. Once his memories returned, the Inspector would learn the truth.

Leos started to creep back, until he heard the strange voices again. Only this time they were louder. He spun around startled, but just like before, found himself completely alone.

'Who's there?' he hissed, but there was no response.

The voices came at him again. They seemed to be all around. They grew louder as they spoke to him in the same unfamiliar language as before. Leos's breath shortened as panic set in. He searched around desperately for the source until he realised it was in his head.

'Get out. Get out of me!' he cried, pressing his hands to his head, but the sound persisted, forcing him to listen to the strange words. Somehow though, the longer they spoke to him the more he felt comforted and slowly, he began to calm down. The room darkened further as his mind drew within...

The image of a child flashed before his eyes, followed by a giant canister filled with bubbling fluid. A baleful cry brought terror to his heart and shattered the huge container.

Glass fragments mixed with darkened fluid as the tank's contents sprayed across the room. A naked body slowly rose of the floor, and then...

The dream ended. Leos found himself back by the stairs. The man drew long slow breaths as he tried to calm his troubled mind. The strange vision was so intense it felt like he had actually been there. Was it a memory?

The answers he sought became lost for all eternity when the room suddenly came alive, turning his already fragile world into complete chaos. The deafening sound of alarms roaring into life merged aggressively with flashing lights as the building's security system activated.

Leos jumped like a scared animal, and felt his body surge into overdrive as an erratic heart pumped blood furiously around his body. The massive surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins caused him to bolt up the stairs, ignoring all his previous hesitations. He climbed two flights in as many seconds, then charged down another corridor. Despite his panic, Leos noticed that he was still following the thick, velvety trail. It led him to a large open room with a statue at its centre, and the source of the gruesome path. He never saw the meaning of the sculpture, only the sprawling body of an enormous guard lying at its base.

Leos tried to slow himself, but lost his footing on a patch of blood and went tumbling. He fell hard to the floor in a grisly slide towards the horrific site and came to a sticky halt just in front of the victim's open chest.

The lifeless eyes of prison Officer Malloc stared blankly at Leos. The ogre had been ripped apart from his waist up, exposing a mass of dangling entrails and broken rib bones.

Leos gagged and scrambled away, becoming totally overcome with nausea at the sight of it. A rank stench filled his nostrils making his eyes run and the room began to spin. Inevitably his stomach decided that it didn't want to contain itself anymore and discard its contents across the polished floor. He coughed and spluttered between lungfuls of air, wiping his mouth with a blood-stained arm. What happened here?

There was no time to ponder. The distinct sound of angry voices brought his attention back to the dilemma he now faced.

Flashing lights and wailing alarms continued to sound as guards began pouring into the building. It wouldn't be long before they came upstairs and found the remains of their comrade. The situation was bad. Leos knew if the guards found him here then it would be all over. He would hang. There was no alternative. He had to flee.

He surged to his feet and ran, not caring where he was going. It just had to be away from here. A terrible sense of dread swept through his body as he negotiated the building's complex layout. The risk of discovery was so great it drove him on faster and faster. The combination of fear and adrenaline elevated his senses to new heights.

Angry shouts ahead brought him to a stop. Harsh voices bellowed orders as the guards searched, but it was impossible to tell which way they were headed. He looked around desperately for a way out as the heated cries grew louder and went to a nearby door, but didn't go through.

The strange voices came to him again in that moment, whispering at the edges of his mind. They brought forth a strong feeling of uncertainty that washed over him, freezing his hand. Leos couldn't explain why but he knew that way was wrong, so the man turned on his heel and ascended another flight of stairs.

Not long after, the door he'd left burst open and a mob of angry guards stormed into the corridor, each of them wielding batons wreathed in purple fire. Leos praised his luck but didn't look back, driving deeper into the building. The strange voices stayed with him and became a constant companion. Telling him exactly where the guards were before they got close.

Who's helping me? How can I understand them? he wondered.

Ultimately, he didn't care. His only concern now was to escape the building. Leos took appropriate steps to avoid being caught whenever he could. Darting down corridors or climbing yet more stairs under the direction of the mysterious voices. A strange confidence grew inside him. Maybe he would survive this after all?

His mind buzzed from the intense activity, so much he failed to notice the corridors overhead lights fizz and crack as he ran underneath. One exploded, creating a shower of sparks that covered the fleeing man, but slowed him nonetheless.

Leos's ears throbbed in time to his pounding heart as he ran bare foot into a large open-planned room and made his way over to a huge section of glass wall overlooking the streets below. Maybe there was a way out?

Rain pounded into the window's surface, making it vibrate. It was dark outside, and judging from the hundreds of twinkling lights, he was very high up. No chance of leaping out then.

The man turned back, frustrated, and began looking around the room. He spotted what looked like a service elevator at the far end of another corridor. Maybe he could use it to escape?

But his hopes turned to dismay when he saw an out of operation sign positioned in front of his potential exit. He cursed his luck and moved closer regardless. Perhaps he could prise open the doors and climb down the shaft? It was risky, and the last thing he wanted to do. One slip and he would fall to his death. But what choice did he have?

Leos pondered the decision, but his reluctance saved him. For in that moment of doubt a massive explosion ripped through the elevator doors, throwing him back. Pressure from the blast shattered the glass wall, sending hundreds of shards tumbling down to the distant streets below. Leos was thrown some twenty feet across the room, landing hard on the floor, and took several seconds for him to recover.

Pain in his belly caused him to look down to his blood-stained clothes. A deep gouge had opened across his stomach. Another blast drew his eyes back to the smoking ruin in front. The elevator was gone, replaced by a gaping hole spewing out thick gouts of black smoke into the air. Long arms of electricity lit up the open shaft, scratching wildly at anything within their deadly reach. Despite the flames, the air around him dropped suddenly making his breath frost. The dazed man went cold with fear as a terrible wail screeched out from within the burning shaft, followed by the hideous creature it belonged to.

A demon, sent forth from the fires of Atholly, floated menacingly before the escapee. Its terrifying presence sent juddering waves of fear pulsing through Leos's trembling body. The creature was deathly pale and looked like a deformed son of Tumarr. Its thin body hung motionless in the air as it regarded him silently. Black jewel-like eyes looked down at him, chilling his sole, but its head was worst of all. A nest of short tentacles hung limply from where its mouth should have been, writhing slightly as its foul gaze continued to linger upon the man.

The monster cocked its large head as Leos scrambled away. Bolts of electricity bounced harmlessly of its thin body. Rain blew into the room, driven hard by the prevailing winds surging outside. Was this monster responsible for killing Malloc? Who cares, he wasn't hanging around to find out!

Leos scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his stomach, and sprinted back down the corridor he'd just came up. Engulfed with fear, he ran at full speed, moving faster than he had done before. Water splashed high as his tired feet slapped onto the floor. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins as his throbbing heart beat harder against his chest.

Leos was horrified to see the creature following when he looked back. Its clawed feet scraping across the floor as it floated towards him. The thought of confronting that thing was frightening. It made his sweat run cold down the crease of his back.

He ran faster and winced as the stomach wound flared to life once more. Blood trickled down his leg leaving a trail. He groaned in pain but continued to flee. His attention split between the gushing wound and the pursuing monster. He didn't see the crouching prison guard leap out from a side passage until it was too late.

Leos felt his world spin as the body of another person barrelled into him, bringing him down. The pair slid across the floor in a tangled mess and came to a stop, desperately struggling. Leos tried to shake off the large man but with little success. His heart sank further as another six guards appeared out of nowhere, bellowing angrily.

'Secure the prisoner!' shouted one of the men as they all fell on him. An ogre was amongst their number, and stepped forward to seize Leos by the throat. A toothless grin spread across its stupid face as the giant's meaty hands clamped firmly onto the escape, hauling him to his feet. He threw the prisoner against the wall laughing as his comrades pinned him in place.

'Dis is gonna be fun!' it said whilst rolling its massive shoulders. The ogre wore a studded leather vest over its swollen body and iron capped boots. It carried no weapons at all, its hairy arms were more than enough.

The other guards stepped back to let the brute play, drawing polar batons from their belts, ready to ignite. None of them had spotted the pale demon as it came silently from behind.

In a flash of blinding speed, it struck at the guards, ripping the furthest one away to pierce his throat with its razor-sharp claws. The man's body slumped to the floor in a gargling heap, clutching his throat. Crimson fluid spilled onto the ground as he lay writhing.

Another guard tried to intervene, but his slow and cumbersome blow was easily parried by the agile beast, who brought the man down with a lethal stab to the back. Cries of panic filled the air as the guards turned to attack this new threat. They threw themselves at the monster courageously, but failed to make contact. Its body moved with blistering speed that wound a deadly trail of death around them. Two more fell in just as many moments.

The dim-witted ogre was left by itself, and charged recklessly at the beast with a howl of rage. Its heavy arms swung wildly, but its flurry did little more than knock holes in walls and destroy furniture. The demon was too agile, and avoided the clumsy ogre easily.

The giant bellowed with rage and brought both arms down to pulverise the creature, only it wasn't there. The floor cracked from the blow and the ogre stared in disbelief as it struggled to work out why the monster wasn't there. Its life ended shortly after.

The pale beast summoned a ball of crackling energy into its clawed hand and threw it into the ogre's back, vaporising part of its torso in a blazing light. The giant stood still for a moment before falling. Its brain too stupid to realise it was even dead. It fell to the floor with a resounding wet slap not long after.

The creature turned its gaze towards Leos, who stood frozen with terror at the sight of it. All he could do was watch helplessly as it went to strike him in the chest with its deadly claws. But somehow the blow never connected.

A blinding flash of purple light split the air in two as the creature lunged forward. The invisible barrier enveloping Leos crackled with energy as it deflected the blow and pushed back the attacking monster. The stunned beast recovered in a heartbeat and screamed defiantly before striking again. Its tentacle maw writhed in fury as it leapt towards its prey. Leos saw his death approach and was pinned with fear.

But his saviour came in the form of the remaining guard, who charged into the beast from behind, knocking it down.

A searing hiss of burning flesh filled the air as the guard's polar baton connected with its head. The lilac flames bit deep into the creature's flesh, making it wail. The attacker pressed his advantage and lunged again with his glowing weapon, hoping to end the fight. But the beast's recovery was swift. It parried the blow easily before imbedding both its clawed hands deep into the guard's chest. Ending his life his life with a sickening crunch.

Leos took the opportunity to leave while the beast was distracted, and fled the scene of violence.

What was that thing!? he thought to himself.

Lights were still flashing as the alarm continued to sound and more shouts could be heard. Not knowing where he was going, except away from that monster, Leos blindly turned down another corridor and through a pair of double doors which led into some sort of canteen. He ran past rows of metal tables that were lined up next to each other, and made for the exit on the other side of the room. To his horror several more guards burst through the doors with batons drawn. They saw Leos and instantly charged towards him, yelling at him to stop. There was no chance of turning around, not with that thing behind. The only option was to push through.

Without stopping, Leos grabbed a steel chair and swung hard for the first guard, knocking him out cold. He then jumped at the other before he had a chance to swing his polar baton. The pair tumbled to the floor, sending the flaming weapon sliding out of reach. Leos made to grab it, but was pulled back by his advisory. The two men fought on the floor like a pair of wild dogs, punching and kicking frantically. Leos wailed when the guard sucker punched his bleeding wound during the struggle, making him bend in two. His opponent made for the baton and would have seized it, were it not for the bony elbow that crashed hard into his stomach, winding him. The guard's grip on Leos loosened whilst he gasped for air. He looked up in time to see the polar batons lilac glow bear down on him as Leos struck.

Leos got to his feet awkwardly and limped towards the exit. The pain in his gut burned like fire. He covered the wound with his hand then pushed the door open. More shouting could be heard as the guards desperately tried to find the missing prisoner. They were getting closer. The smartest thing now would be to move away from that sound as quickly as possible. Any hesitation would result in capture, and after all that had happened tonight, that would mean death. He longed for the enticing voice within his head to return, but his mind remained silent. Why had it stopped now?

Instead, he looked to his own intuition and found a staircase close by. The man cautiously made his way down several flights without detection and found more corridors greeted him at the bottom. This accursed building was a labyrinth, and his previous thoughts of escape were starting to dwindle.

He moved quickly down the endless passageways, unsure of where to go next, and paused for a moment to think. His heart jumped when he heard more voices close by and started to panic when he realised, they were getting louder.

'Hurry up, this way. We have orders to secure the stairs before the prisoner escapes, we must contain him in the upper levels!'

Without thinking, Leos checked one of the hallway doors, but it was locked. He tried another, searching for an open door with no luck. Time was running out. He could hear them approaching. It wouldn't be long until he was caught.

He tried another door and found it locked again. It was all over. But then it seemed that luck finally was on his side as one of the doors opened and he darted inside. Closing it mere seconds before numerous armed guards entered the corridor.

Leos held his breath as the men thundered past. Once it was clear, he secured the door shut with a couple of brooms that were propped against the wall and took a moment to calm down. He scanned the room eagerly, hoping for another way out, but there was none. He was trapped! It looked like he was in some sort of laundry room. Large wheeled bins, overflowing with piles of dirty sheets filled the tiny space, leaving a musky scent in the air.

Now what? he thought whilst grabbing a sheet and ripping it in two. Leos grimaced as he wrapped the length of fabric around his body and pulled it tight. The makeshift bandage was far from perfect but would do for now, and seemed at least to slow the bleeding.

At the other end of the room he noticed there was a large metal vent, probably used for sending laundry to lower levels for washing. The thought of sliding down the shaft was unfeasible. Still, it was the only chance he had of escaping.

He walked up to the vent and pulled it open. The heavy metal door squeaked noisily as it moved but didn't seem to alert anyone. Leos held his hand above the opening and felt a cold breeze skim through his fingers. Was he really going to do this?

There was a shout from outside, reminding him that he was still in danger. Running back over to the barred door he listened as the guards yelled more orders.

'The blood trail leads here, search every room, he can't be far. Little bugger must've sneaked down before we got ere'

That was it, there was little choice. Leos decided to take his chances with the vent after all. He ran back over, but in his haste tripped over a basket and fell onto a shelving unit stacked with linen. The unsteady tower came crashing down, and would have crushed the man if he hadn't rolled out of the way. The commotion alerted the guards outside, who tried to open the door but found it shut. The flimsy barricade would only hold them for a few seconds. Time was up.

Leos managed to get within a few feet of the hatch when the doors burst open. Not looking back, the man carelessly threw himself into the metal chute and tumbled down into the unknown...

*****

A group of guards stormed into the room wearing padded armour and wielding flaming clubs. The largest pushed his way forward and stood in front of the metal chute.

The one-eyed brute looked down into the blackened pipe, his face twisted in hate. He roared angrily then began hitting the shaft with his polar baton, sending sparks into the air.

'Gutless cur. Where does that pipe lead to?' he yelled.

'The washroom on Sub level one, Boss.'

'Belthor's wrath. Everyone down there now. And secure all possible exits along the way.'

The alert was given, and the guards responded. It wasn't long before the building's lower levels were flooded with armed men, desperate to find the escapee who'd killed their colleagues so brutally. It would only be a matter of time before he was caught.

The doors leading to the main washroom burst open. Dozens of guards poured in shouting and screaming. To their surprise they found the room empty. The one-eyed guard couldn't believe it, he looked around the room in disgust. How could he have gotten away again?

He felt his blood boil and was about to lash out at the nearest man when one of the guards came over.

'We found this, Boss. Over there in the corner.' He was handed a set of clothes, shredded and stained with blood.

The one-eyed man looked around the room and noticed a space amongst the stacks of folded garments. He threw the tattered clothes angrily to the floor and spat on them.

'Search the perimeter and alert all posts on the boarder. The convict may try to flee the city. If this man's not found before morning, heads will roll! Get it done, Now!'

D.R. Hurley

Six

Leos slipped passed the remaining guards stationed on the ground floor without any trouble, since their attention was focused solely on catching the prisoner running amuck on the upper levels. And yet, if they had bothered to look twice at the suspicious bare footed guard, whose uniform was clearly too small, then things might have turned out differently.

His trip down the metal shute ended with him crashing into a large pile of soiled uniforms, where he was then able to escape.

Leos quietly made his way towards the building's unguarded exit and disappeared into the night when it was safe to do so. Moving silently amongst the dark, he quickly began to put as much distance between himself and the enforcer building as possible, keeping his presence confined to the shadows wherever he could. He was sure the guards would increase their search to the surrounding area and had to keep moving.

Rain fell hard in a steady sheet from the heavens. Leos caught sight of twin moons nestled high amidst the clouded sky, lighting his way. The silver glow radiating from their crescent façade picked out the gothic looking buildings he ran though. Steeply pitched roofs studded with gargoyles cut sharply into the night. Their leering eyes seemed to glare down on him with mocking glee. Water spilled over slate tiles to the streets below as the deluge continued.

Most would agree that the Imperial architecture, for all its beauty, was quite menacing to behold at night, but for Leos it was a haven when compared to the grimy walled cell he had been confined to of late.

He paused briefly in the shadowy recess of a street corner to ponder his next move, spotting a nearby wagon across the way. The streets were empty, so he ran over and tried the coachman's door. Luckily it was open. He reached in grabbed the closest thing to hand, a heavy overcoat lay draped over the seat which he took before leaving. The garment was itchy, but fitted him well. He pulled the coats large hood over his battered features then continued his flight into the stone town.

Keeping off the cobbled streets, Leos kept to the shadows, taking care not to be caught in the warm glow of hanging lanterns lining the streets. He slipped down alleys to avoid contact with others wherever possible, maintaining his swift pace as best he could, despite the searing pain of his stomach wound.

On he went, street after street. Cutting down one passage then another. Eventually he had to stop, his lungs burned from exhaustion and seemed to tighten as he panted heavily. The makeshift bandage tied around his waist was a hindrance to his breathing.

He took shelter under a porch whilst he recovered. The tiny structure offered some protection from the worst of the storm, to which he was thankful. Leos squatted against the recessed door, and drew deep breaths of moist air into his burning lungs. Amidst this brief moment of respite, his thoughts slipped back to the prison he'd just escaped, and that awful creature which had tried to attack him.

A cold shiver shot down his spine at the thought of the thing that had so easily dispatched the guards. He should be lying dead with the rest of them, but he wasn't. Something had protected him. He remembered the blinding flash of colour which deflected the creature's blow, some sort of shield or barrier he guessed? He had no idea why or even how it happened.

His head began to ache from the endless stream of questions rolling over his troubled mind. At first, he thought it just another injury from his tussle with the guards, until it built into an excruciating level within his skull. Leos wailed as the pain suddenly exploded in his mind with tremendous force, pinning him to the spot. He gripped his head tightly, trying to shut it out, but it did little to comfort. Writhing on the floor, the sensation intensified and brought forth a snapshot of visions igniting within his mind that he could not shut out...

He saw the pale demon standing before him in a courtyard of stone, its tentacle maw twitched faintly as it loomed close. Was he on the ground? The pale colours of a blue sky could be seen beyond the creature as it moved closer. Leos looked down and saw that his hands were coated in blood. He gasped in horror as the creature stood over him and then, darkness...

Leos found himself back in the present looking up towards the rain filled sky, panting hard as the vision receded. The pain in his head was gone. Leos picked himself up slowly from the ground and tried to make sense of it.

Was that another memory, he thought?

If so, what did it mean?

He had no answers, and wracked his mind desperately to know, but it was useless.

The pain in his stomach brought his mind off the subject, and to a more pressing matter came which required his attention. Long had it been since his body was blessed with the luxury of food and he was becoming weaker from lack of nutrition. He drew the coat's hood back to wipe his sodden hair out of his dark eyes, then shook himself down.

It was then he noticed a dead weight in the coat's inside pocket. Something heavy was nestled there. Leos placed his hand inside the coat, and grasped a cold metal object. To his surprise he withdrew a highly polished timepiece, plated in gold. The weighty thing was attached via a fine gold chain, snap-hooked into a loop. He decided to keep the watch as it might prove useful and pocketed it once more.

Realising he'd delayed enough, he fastened the coat and pulled over his hood. Another glance showed him it was safe to proceed, then he carried on into the night, with no clue as to where he was going.

Eventually, he came to a large opening that was filled with empty stalls, a market square he presumed. Crouching low amongst a pile of wooden crates, the man scanned the area for signs of life. There were none. So, he crept out slowly from a dark alley and made his way across to the square's centre. Perhaps there might be something worth scavenging? But unfortunately, there was little to be found except rubbish and mouldy fruit. Still, what choice did he have?

The man stuffed a rotten piece of something into his mouth, then instantly regretted it. The fruit was bitterly sour, and covered in grit. He spat it onto the water drenched floor in disgust and moved on, picking his way carefully through the huge collection of stands.

Leos spotted a stack of large barrels and went over to look, hoping they might be filled with something he could eat. The barrels were marked with a logo of a tree, perhaps he might be onto something! They were stacked too high, and far too heavy to move by himself, so he decided to climb up and get in from the top.

Leos hoisted himself up and gasped as fire burned in his stomach from the wound. He slipped on the wet surface and tumbled back to the ground, rocking the stack. The blood drained from his flesh as a large barrel rocked towards him and fell over, threatening to crush him. The man raised his arms to shield himself from the impact, but instead released a blast of raw energy from his throbbing hands, which disintegrated the barrel in a shower of splinters.

Leos grunted as a mass of dried fruit peppered his body from the sky. He looked at his shaking hands in shock, then back to the gaping hole where the barrel used to be, unable to explain what had just happened.

He got to his feet then scampered away, fearful the noise might attract someone, but managed to scoop up a few handfuls of fruit off the ground. The man hurried through the disused market whilst stuffing food into his mouth and hid in a nearby alley. The pieces were delicious, despite being hard to chew, and coated in grit, but he wolfed the down anyway.

It was then he noticed there was something lingering in the air, which caught his attention. A faint sound of music and laughter could be heard over the endless downpour, which attracted the man like a bear to honey. He followed the sound cautiously and splashed through puddles as he followed it.

Leos stood before a large stone building, similar to those around, only it was in far worse condition, and noted the beams of warm light seeping out from its boarded windows. A large sign etched with the words Boars Head, rocked squeakily on rusted hinges. The soiled appearance of this dingy looking place was strangely out of place next to the surrounding buildings, whose dominating features were far more gothic looking compared this grimy watering hole's plain and simple appearance. Still, it was shelter, and maybe he could find some food inside.

Leos walked towards the building's large wooden doors, decorated with chipped green paint, and went to go in, but something grabbed his leg. He jumped in surprise, and felt his heart leap.

A surge of power swelled up from within his mind. It travelled down his body, and into his now clenched fists. Raw energy buzzed madly around his fingers, making his hands glow red, frightening the life of the poor beggar, who pleaded not to be hurt.

'Hamiya's breath, Please, Sire show mercy. I mean no harm to you. Just after a bit of coin to wet me whistle Sir that's all, that's all.' The homeless man cowered in fear before the stranger and his glowing fists, and tried to shuffle back. Leos became panicked at the sight of his crimson wrought hands and shook them loose, dispelling the power instantly.

What's happening to me?

He apologised to the frightened beggar and stepped out of his way, leaving the jabbering wreck of a man babbling on the floor, then made for the entrance.

Leos quickly looked behind before pushing aside the heavy oak doors, and entered the alehouse.

D.R. Hurley

Seven

The tall candles in Inspector Baxi's office burned long into the night, reducing them to little mounds of melted wax that dripped frequently onto the floor. The Inspector had remained locked in his office for hours on end, searching for anything regarding the traitor Leos and his despicable life of crime.

Jyonti held the largest magistrate courts in all the Empire and as such, earned the title, Iron City, on the account of its many prisons. If the law was broken, Jyonti was usually the place they'd take you to stand trial. Baxi's desk had come to resemble a miniature city of stacked paper towers, loitering across his work surface as he continued to ransack the buildings archives. But his attempts were futile. There was no file, no record, no other information regarding the traitor Leos. Nothing except the report sent to him by the Imperial Commission, detailing the first interrogation of the now re-appointed Inspector Sarsso. It was like the man didn't exist.

Baxi rubbed his tired eyes with the palm of his hands, trying to stem the mounting fatigue slowing his weary mind. Another useless file landed on his cluttered desk, just like all the others. The Inspector cursed his luck, then threw himself back into a large leather chair, which creaked loudly in response. He sat there for a time thinking. His fingers toyed idly with the golden signet ring on his finger.

Breath of the Mother, I've been through everything and still haven't found any reference to this, Leos. The man's a ghost!

Baxi felt a dull ache in his mind from the rise of emotions coming from outside his office, but chose to ignore it. Being a Medion meant the Inspector had the ability to detect one's feelings, whether he wanted to or not. He also had the power to delve into a person's mind, and seek out the truth of their past. A useful tool for any officer of the law trying to find out if a suspect was guilty or not, and one that could be presented in court. Though it came at a price.

It takes great skill and control to see into someone's memories, and even more to cope with them. Over the years Baxi had gone into the sub-conscious minds of hundreds of criminals, thugs, rapists and murderers and seen terrible horrors that no man should witness. Naturally he'd become hardened to it, yet sometimes there would be visions that even he could not deal with, and be forced to lock them deep down in the furthest reaches of his own mind.

When he entered the traitor's mind the other day there were so many things that hadn't made sense. And that troubled Baxi greatly. Never before had he seen a mind so empty. It was like all of his memories had been somehow, removed. The fact he had to travel so deep just to find a few meagre glimpses of the suspect worthless past was frustrating, and curious. He couldn't even use the memories as evidence for the trial, the High Courts would not be able to except such limited images. Something had happened to that man, of that Baxi was certain.

Yes, the guards had been a little heavy handed on the prisoner, but that was irrelevant. A polar baton's bite would only suppress a subject's memories temporarily, and still be a mere trifle to unlock for a skilled Medion such as he. But this man Leos was almost wiped clean. Either he was especially adept at deception, or something far more sinister was at work.

He doubted the former notion since the emotions he felt from the traitor during the interrogation were genuine. Leos really didn't have a clue about anything Baxi had talked about, and was completely terrified of the potential consequences bestowed by treason. Then again, the man was able to expel Baxi's presence from his mind on two occasions, a sign that he was potentially a Medion like himself. Convenient how the report failed to mention such an important and dangerous fact.

A cold shiver ran down the Inspector's spine as a ludicrous idea came to him.

What if his body was only placed at the scene? What if it's all just, some kind of deception?

He dismissed the thought immediately, and reached for the report once more. That kind of notion was just an easy solution to something he feared was unsolvable. Or was it? Leos was found at the scene after all, with the parchment of demands in his possession. But why was he abandoned so? His conspirators must have known he'd be captured, and face death. Did something go wrong? What did they hope to gain from this? There must be something else he'd missed, something he'd not seen. But then again maybe there was nothing to be found at all, just paranoia. Whatever Leos hoped to gain from the kidnapping was still a mystery, and it galled Baxi to think a man could betray his own nation.

In the end it mattered not. The man was going to die tomorrow, along with all the Trian monks. The Emperor had already sent word to arrange a public execution in Bangarrow square tomorrow morning. The traitor would have to be transported soon to make the short trip up to the capital in time. Normally crimes such as this would be dealt with here in the Iron City, but the dogs of Trian were a special circumstance. An example to be made. Cowldonia would not be held at the mercy of terrorists.

He threw down the file down and checked his pocket watch, realising for the first time how late it was. He could still catch a few hours rest before the trip to Bangarrow, and decided that would be best.

The Inspector reached for his coat and happened to knock the useless document off his desk, scattering papers across the floor. He cursed his clumsiness then bent down to retrieve it. Grabbing a sheet of the ground, Baxi happened to catch sight of the list of convictions printed at its bottom.

-Case number 10/2305-

He paused for a moment and stared blankly at the document. The numbers seemed to call out to him, and rang faintly in his mind.

Case number 10/2305

I know this!? he thought.

Case number 10/2305

The Mostin Abduction?

Yes, that was it. One of the Inspector's first major cases he'd dealt with years ago, when he was young and working in the capital. But why should that be of any importance? In fact, why was it even down on this man's file, that particular case was nearly fifteen years old, and Leos would have only been a child at the time.

Intrigued as to the relevance, he headed over to an old filing cabinet at the far end of his office and opened the top drawer. He searched through all the folders it contained, then slammed it shut again and went to the next one. And then the one below that. He continued to burrow his way through the casket of forgotten files and eventually found what he sought. A file labelled 10/2305.

Baxi tore it out and quickly scanned the old document. The case itself was irrelevant. A series of kidnappings at an orphanage on West Barn Road that looked like...wait! West Barn Road?

He stopped for a moment to think.

'West Barn Road...' The words rolled slowly over his tongue as he repeatedly spoke them aloud. Wasn't that...

He recalled the scant memories located in the traitor's mind, and the image of the arched door which read Mostin.

Baxi went back and scanned the interrogation report,

Raised in an orphanage on West Barn Road. Was it the same orphanage? Was there a connection? He hadn't seen any memories of the man's upbringing, or anything to link him to that report. He continued to read and started recalling what had happened.

Numerous children in the area had been snatched out of their beds, sometime in the night, and never seen again. The abductions were random, with no apparent pattern, other than they were all orphans. No witness ever came forward, and no suspects ever identified, resulting with the case being left unsolved. After all, nobody really cared about a bunch of homeless kids in one of the capital's poorest boroughs.

We never found the children, and we never convicted anyone either.

Something strange was going on. It couldn't have been a mistake or a simple misprint, that never happened. The Imperial Commission was renowned for being meticulous with their reports. It was a loose end, and Baxi hated loose ends. It indicated sloppiness, and a lazy approach to policing that he couldn't abide. But he knew perhaps to let it lie.

He stifled a yawn and got ready to leave, taking a moment to rub his bald head. The dull ache continued to grow within his mind and was getting stronger. It was only when he started to gather his belongings that Baxi really took notice of the loud commotion coming from outside, and the whirling mass of frantic emotions issuing forth. Something had got the men riled.

At least that explains the pain. he thought dryly, and made a mental note to obtain some more Fogberry juice at the next convenience. Still, the commotion seemed unusual, especially at this ungodly hour. It could only mean trouble.

A fist started pounding against the Inspector's door, followed by a panicked cry.

'Inspector Baxi, Sir! Are you in there? Please Inspector, come quickly...'

Baxi quickly opened the door, fearful of it being knocked down.

'Blood of the mother, what's all this about? Calm yourself at once man, and tell me what's going on out here?' he said angrily at the red-faced guard, who was clearly disturbed.

'There's been murder Sir. In the Ah'mend Darr prison. One of the prisoners-'

'I don't care about prisoners murdering themselves man. Belthor's teeth, it saves us the trouble of doing it-'

'It's not a prisoner Sir, one of the ogres is dead. Murdered.' blurted the officer. Baxi's bloodshot eyes went wide at the news.

'That's Impossible. You must be mistaken!' he cried, but the guard shook his head.

'It's true Sir, the one known as Malloc, he's dead. The ogre's been butchered alive, they say it's horrific. The remains of another ogre were also found in the upper levels, alongside five guards. The bodies were all mutilated!'

The Inspector turned pale as blood drained from his face, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. There had never been a murdered guard before. Not ever! Now seven in one night, two of them ogres. It was unheard of!

'There's more sir, Lieutenant Rhodas sent out an alert to all watch posts in Jyonti. He believes a prisoner has escaped confinement and fled into the city.' Baxi couldn't believe what he was hearing.

'Which prisoner?' he asked, though deep down feared the answer was obvious. The officer responded.

'It's the traitor Sir. The man Leos. He's missing.'

The Inspector's face flushed red as he took it all in, grinding his teeth angrily.

'Call up every man in the building immediately. I want all available personnel out on the streets looking for this man. Make sure all squads are doubled and armed accordingly. The suspect male is exceedingly dangerous. Use any force necessary to contain, but I want him brought back alive. Understood? We're not gonna let this scum get away with murdering our own. I shall personally see his head part from his body when this is through.'

They both headed down to the armoury, where guards were already readying themselves with batons and shields. The officer accompanying Baxi spoke again.

'How shall we proceed Sir? Will you lead the hunt?' he asked. The Inspector shook his bald head in response.

'No. I'll head over to the prison, and liaise with Rhodas to secure the scene before catching up. A barrel of mead goes to the team that catches the convict first!' he shouted, drawing a cheer from the men around him.

'I want this Slarr loving creature captured by morning at all costs. Don't let him leave the city!'

The Inspector's mood darkened severely as he left the building, and took the first carriage to Ah'mend Darr prison. It seemed the man he interviewed earlier was not so innocent after all.

D.R. Hurley

Eight

Leos entered the alehouse unseen. Such was the hour that those who weren't already passed out on the alcohol saturated floor were way beyond the realms of normality to notice his subtle entrance. The building's appearance fared little better inside then it did out. It truly was a dismal place. Apparently lacking the kind of decency one would expect to find in any reputable establishment. Maybe it would be safe to stay here after all.

He quickly spotted an empty table in the room's corner and made his way over, trying not to step on any of the locals. Affectionate waves of heat radiating from a log fire greeted him as he approached. A gentle warmth he welcomed quietly as he sat down at a wooden table. He turned his chair to face the fire, and found it rocked annoyingly as he rubbed his hands. Leos pulled down his hood and for a while just sat staring into the flames, trying to go over the events that had occurred. So much was unclear.

The drunken cheers and laughter which filled the tavern went unheard to his ears as time passed. And gradually, his eyelids drew heavy and began to close...

Suddenly a snapshot of the pale creature appeared within his head. Its image so clear he could almost feel its panting breath upon his skin. His heart leapt in fear as he heard its rancid voice whisper in his ear, 'Father...'

Leos opened his eyes with a fright, and found himself staring into the twisted features of an angry barman.

'I said, what you be a'vin then?' belched the giant man standing before him.

Leos's mind raced as he fought to steady his nerves. He wasn't sure how long he'd blanked out, but judging from the brute's snarling face, it must have been some time. He stared at the ugly fellow, who clutched several tankards of ale inside his massive hands, and fumbled for an answer.

The bartender looked back through a squinted eye, taking notice of the purple bruises on Leos's hands and face. He didn't seem too bothered by his beaten appearance. Although judging from the look of his other patrons it was hardly surprising. His attention appeared largely focused on the growing puddle of water collecting under Leos's chair, and growled menacingly at the sight of it.

'I'm assuming you've not come ere to keep ya'self warm.' he said impatiently.

At the same moment, one of the burning logs cracked and spat out a smouldering chard. it flew through the air and landed on the slumped form of an unconscious man, sprawled over a nearby table. The smell of burnt skin cut through the rank air as the chard seared a part of the man's exposed flesh. He was so drunk it might have burnt through to the bone were it not for the barman, who kicked out hard, knocking the drunk to the floor. The barman grunted in amusement then returned his crooked gaze to Leos.

'So, what'll it be then? Will yer be drinking, or moving along?'

'I'll drink.' answered Leos, before realizing he had no coin to pay the man. Unless, there was always that shinny timepiece? Maybe the barman would take it in exchange?

He pulled out the polished gold watch and laid it onto the table.

'I want some food too!' he said confidently, although deep down thought he might be pushing his luck.

The barman dumped a tankard onto the table, so he could pick the watch up with a free hand. He studied the shiny object for a while, squinting in the light, and began to nod slowly, chuckling to himself.

'How can a man who has no boots come to have such, niceties?' he asked with a sly grin. Leos remained silent, and was slightly embarrassed by the remark. The barman grunted, then pocketed the watch.

'I'll be back in a while.' he said before limping off towards the bar.

The man disappeared though a small door which probably led to the kitchen. It seemed to have worked. Although maybe he was on his way out the back door to find the authorities and alert them of this suspicious character. But, considering the entire place was full of suspicious characters it didn't seem likely that was going to happen.

That thought drew his mind back to the predicament he was in, and of his recent escape from custody which had temporarily slipped his mind. Obviously, he was glad to be free, but he got the feeling that his escape was no accident. The guards were too organised to have left the cell door unlocked. Someone, or something must have opened it. But why?

The stress was too much, every question he had seemed to be answered with another. And what of that foul creature? The thought of it brought hairs on the back of his neck to stand. Even warmth from the nearby fire wasn't enough to stop a cold chill from running down his back.

He became lost in his own mind and was only brought back to reality when a large wooden plate crashed down onto his table, followed by a tankard of foaming ale. The barman stared for a moment, only this time he came across as being slightly jollier.

'If you'll be needing anything else, just ask.'

He left as quickly as he came, tendering to the needs of his other clients. Leos gazed intently at the plate of food. Any self-respecting person would have thought twice about ordering food from a place such as this, but surprisingly it didn't seem too bad. The platter was well portioned with various cold meats, cheeses and fresh bread and contained very little grit. There was even an assortment of pickles, all nicely arranged around a large tomato to finish it off. Unfortunately, the chef's artwork went sorely unnoticed by its intended consumer, who hastily stuffed handfuls of food into his mouth. He stopped only to wash it down with large gulps of ale, before continuing again. In a few minutes the hearty dish became no more than a load of scattered crumbs across his lap.

Leos was just swallowing the last remains from his tankard when he felt a slight twitch from under his coat. Instantly he turned, and caught the slender hand which had tried to pickpocket him. The hand belonged to a small figure whose face was hidden under a deep velvet hood.

Leos Pulled the hood back to reveal a rather startled looking girl with emerald eyes staring back at him. It took him a few seconds to realise that this, blue-skinned child, was the same girl he'd met in those awful prison chambers.

'You!' he hissed angrily, immediately pulling the girl round to sit on an empty chair next to him. The giant mass of red her was now brushed back and tucked safely inside her cloak, hidden from view.

'You're supposed to be locked up!' he said quietly, still holding onto her hand. The girl tried to break free of his grip but couldn't.

'That's funny,' she replied whilst squirming in her seat, 'I was thinking the same about you-'

'I think you've got some explaining to do!'

'As do you. There aren't many who've been able to escape from Ah'mend Darr, especially after attracting so much interest.'

Leos looked slightly sheepish for a second, and cast a nervous glance around the room to see if anybody was paying attention.

'You managed to escape,' he said in a slightly calmer voice, 'how'd you get out?'

'Sorry to disappoint you, but they released me this afternoon. Said the charges had been dropped and I was to go about my way. What's your story?' The man remained quiet.

Luckily the moment was interrupted by the bartender who'd came back to clear away his empty plate.

'You ready for another?' he said bluntly, 'that shiny watch has another round left in it, for both of yer.'

It was an awkward moment. The two exchanged glances before Leos spoke.

'That's very honest of you friend.' replied Leos. The barman stood upright whilst grunting to himself, seemingly offended by the remark.

'It's good for business to be honest. And I'm not your friend. You want the ale or not?' Leos nodded and the barman hobbled off, leaving the pair alone whilst he went about his work.

The man brought his attention back to the girl and looked curiously at her skin, which had a prominent tinge of blue to it, but said nothing about it. It wasn't long before the barman returned with a couple of fresh tankards, which he dumped onto the unsteady table. The girl spoke first once he was out of earshot.

'Are you planning to hold onto me like this all night? I know we've already been introduced, but I'd like to take things a bit slower if you don't mind.' she said sarcastically

'You... What?' replied Leos confused, 'don't play the innocent, you're the one who tried to pocket me!'

'You still bothered about that? Obviously, I wouldn't have tried if I'd seen your face first.'

'And that makes it all right does it!' replied Leos angrily.

'Of course it does. If I'd have known it was you, I would have realised an escaped criminal wouldn't have had anything on him worth taking! Now let me go.'

Leos sighed then loosened his grip on the child, who snatched her arm back.

'Bully!' she muttered, rubbing her wrist.

'Keep it down will you!' he cautioned, and shot another anxious glance around the room. But apparently, he had nothing to worry about, since the young girl assured him half of the people in here were escaped convicts anyway. It was probably true, but Leos didn't want to take any chances. He'd spent far too much time here already and felt he should move on.

A bout of cheers and hoarse laughter broke out from across the room, which drew his attention. Leos turned to see two men playing some sort of drinking game. One held a tankard on top of his head, trying badly to keep its foaming contents from spilling down his back. The other stood opposite, adopting a rather unbalanced fighting stance. The game, whatever it was, seemed to end badly as the looser leapt onto his friend with arms swinging. The men around made room for the drunken brawl and laughed heartily, throwing more ale over the pair as they fought.

Leos turned back in his chair to face the girl, who was smirking deviously.

'You gonna give that to me or what?' she asked, reaching for one of the tankards.

'I'm not sure they'll let me...' he began, but she snatched the ale from him before he could finish. The man stared in disbelief as the child drank deeply from the tankard.

'You want to get out of the city, don't you? I can help you out if you want.' she said between gulps, drawing a look of surprise from the man.

'How did you... Never mind. I won't be needing help off the likes of you. Little thief! You'd probably have my throat cut the minute we get out of here.' he said coldly, before taking a long sip of his ale.

The girl's youthful face turned sour, and her checks went purple from the offensive comment. She brushed a length of crimson hair out of her eyes, then returned her focus to the foaming tankard of ale, swallowing large gulps of the amber liquid.

'Do you really think that?' she said after draining the contents of her mug. The girl wiped her foam laced mouth with a ragged shirt sleeve then continued speaking.

'Well, who'd have thought? A nice young girl like me, could do an awful thing like that. Is that why you keep looking at me?' Leos looked up from his drink.

'What are you talking about?' he asked.

'You! You've been staring at me this whole time when I'm not looking, don't think I haven't noticed. What's wrong, haven't you seen a Hibernian before?'

He didn't know what to say to that. Her directness stunned him. He fumbled for an answer.

The girl shook her head in disgust, but stopped after noticing one of Leos's many purple bruises

'Oh yes, of course. I forgot about that. You probably don't know any better, do you? I'll have to try and remember. For both our sakes.'

Now it was the man's turn to look angry for being mocked so. The girl smirked briefly, then changed the subject.

'Seems to me that you need to get out of this place. And it just so happens that I'm planning to leave this dump myself.' The child played with her empty tankard and then became drawn towards the remaining drink. She guessed it wouldn't take much to prise it from Leos's shaky grip, it seemed like this man had a lot on his mind. Though not surprising really, since he was in the limelight for Royal abduction!

'Are you going to drink that, or just sit there caressing it.' she said impatiently. Leos's unsteady grip tightened around the tankard as he drew it close.

'Ok, say I come along. What's in it for you?'

'That fresh pint will do nicely for a start!' the girl said with a cheeky grin.

'I'm serious. Why risk it? You could get into a lot of trouble helping me.' The girl thought for a moment before answering.

'I'll need something in return later. A favour for a favour. I can't say what, but it wouldn't be too taxing for a man like you I'm sure. Even in your condition. Well, how bout it?'

The girl's eyes glistened with anticipation as the last tankard came slowly across the table. She snatched it away and began drinking just as disturbance from behind caught Leos's attention. He looked around, and saw the large bartender hobbling over to the alehouse entrance, with the two brawlers under each arm. A moment later the pair were literally thrown out of the building into the rain drenched street, much to the amusement of the hairy beggar, who laughed heartily at their expulsion.

Leos brought his gaze back to his own table, and couldn't believe how quickly the young child had managed to empty the contents of the tankard. She could definitely put many seasoned drinkers to shame.

'You know you've got a bit of a problem there don't you.' he said as she wiped her mouth dry.

'That's funny, coming from the guy who can't remember his own name.' she replied before burping.

'Leos,' he said quietly, 'my names Leos. At least that's what the interrogator said it was.'

'Is that right?!' she said with a surprised chuckle, 'well then, I'm Lyanna. It's nice to make your acquaintance, Mr Leos. I suppose we better make a move before anyone gets wind of us. You'd do well to cover up a bit more as well, young sir.' she said with a nod towards the wet guard uniform that could be seen under his coat, and the dark patch of blood spreading around his stomach.

'You're hurt,' she said with genuine concern, 'here let me see what I can-'

'It's nothing, really. We need to get going now!' he snapped, pulling his coat closed. He shot another nervous glance around the room, but nobody seemed to have noticed. Lyanna thought for a moment before responding.

'I know a place where we can get you some fresh clothes. It's not too far from here actually. We should be able to get there unseen.'

'Oh yeah,' he said half doubtful, 'and what is this place of yours?'

'It's a safe house, and that's all you need to know, for now. Well, you coming or not?'

'Fine, let's go.'

The girl jumped off her seat, then pulled Leos from his, drawing a grunt of pain from the man.

'You sure that's nothing? It looks quite bad to me.'

'I said it's fine. Now come on, quit dawdling and take me to this place.'

The girl sighed, then made for the exit, dragging the Leos by the hand. They started walking through the busy tavern, however only managed a few steps before the man halted. Something was wrong.

Leos froze as a paralyzing force held his body in place, and remained motionless as a cold sense of fear swept through him, making the hairs on his neck rise. Lyanna too felt his skin turn cold and watched as the man's eyes became dilated. The tavern's raucous atmosphere seemed to dwindle in his ears as a strange voice spoke to him in an unknown language. It was the same one from the prison.

'That's not the way to go.' he said quietly, though his voice seemed distant. Lyanna queried his meaning, but found herself being dragged back towards the kitchen.

'What's wrong with you, Leos?' she said, but he didn't respond.

The girl yelped as she tried to resist him, but wasn't given any choice but to follow. She must have only taken three or four steps when the entrance doors burst open.

A flurry of guards entered the building, wearing full riot gear and wielding glowing polar batons. The sudden commotion caused many of the tavern's patrons to wake up.

'Everybody stay where you are, this building is now closed under Enforcer law. Remain calm, and we'll get through this quickly and-'

The officer was cut short by a very red-faced barman who limped over towards the intruders, waving a dirty rolling pin.

'This place won't close unless I says so, ya hear!' he bellowed, clearly not intimidated by the large body of men. The officer in charge stepped forward to meet the enraged owner, flanked by an ogre.

'Stand down you. This is District business. All will abide while we search the premises, or they'll be consequences.' he growled to the red-faced barman now standing before him.

'This is Dobbos' place, yer hear. And I'm the only one who says what's going to happen round ere!'

The officer grunted, then stepped back to let his companion take over. The barman snarled as the ogre stepped forth and batted the man to the ground with a backhanded swipe. The officer chuckled, then casually stepped over his slumped form to address the room.

'The suspect male we're looking for is tall, with dark tussled hair and a beaten appearance. If any of you have seen this individual, then it would be wise to inform us immediately.' The rest of the guards moved in to search the building, laughing as they pushed and shoved the taverns patrons out of the way. But their amusement was short lived.

A half empty tankard came hurtling across the room and hit the ogre square in the face, shortly followed by a chair. Then several drunkards, who shouted abuse at the invading group as they charged. Seconds later, the whole room ignited into chaos as an all-out brawl ensued.

The guards were taken by surprise as dozens of alcohol fuelled men leapt onto them from all sides, wielding bottles and tankards for weapons. Flashes of lilac cracked amongst the flurry as polar batons connected to human flesh, singeing skin and creating a burnt fragrance in the air. The large barman was quick to recover and led the charge unphased, striking the ogre who'd just floored him in the face with his rolling pin. There was a sickening crack as the blow connected to the creature's jaw, scattering yellow teeth into the air.

Lyanna broke free of Leos's grip as he came back to his senses, seeing the brawl for the first time. She led the way forward into the kitchen, with the bemused man in toe. The tiny room was unsurprisingly filthy, and Leos felt his stomach turn after seeing where the food he had just eaten came from.

The pair made their escape via a service entrance and fled into the once quiet streets, now swarming with guards. They didn't stop to think about the bartender and his patrons, who unknowingly helped him escape, or the carnage that was taking place inside the building as guards and drunkards battled furiously. Chairs became weapons and tables became shields. One guard came crashing through the front window in a shower of glass, and landed on the sleeping beggar, who became so enraged at his disturbance, got to his feet and charged into the fray with both arms swinging.

All this courage and bravery went unnoticed to Leos. He was more concerned about the squad of guards that had spotted him, and were now giving chase. Sweat trickled down his brow, despite the rain, and his breaths drew hard and heavy. It wasn't long before the gap between the two groups tightened, as Leos grew more and more fatigued and his wound flared anew.

The young girl surged ahead; unaware Leos was struggling to keep up with her blistering pace. The muscles in his legs burned fiercely and his feet seemed to get heavier with every stride. Even the rain felt hard against his skin. Each droplet was like a ball of lead, pounding against his body from all directions. The pursuing squad gained more ground and got dangerously close. Leos cried out to the girl and she quickly hurried back.

'Go!' she cried whilst running past him, 'keep going straight. I'll catch up to you.'

A crackling ball of blue light formed around the little girl's hands as Leos ran ahead, the colour intensified with each passing second. Wind spiralled around Lyanna's body as the power grew stronger, spraying water in all directions. The moons' light broke through the clouded sky, filling her with new strength. Her body was thrust high into the air as she raised both arms above her head, her crimson hair billowed spectacularly in the night.

With a cry, she threw the crackling energy toward her pursuers, who had no time to react. The ball of light exploded onto the water saturated streets, freezing the cobbled surface on which they men trod. A devious smile spread across her tiny face, as she watched the now blinded guards crash helplessly onto the icy ground, cursing loudly as they struggled to get up.

Lyanna turned her attention back to Leos, who was now way ahead of her, and raced to meet him. It didn't take long to catch up with his hobbling form, and she ignored the obvious look of disbelief written upon his face.

'How did you do that?' he yelled, 'can you do anything else to help us?'

'It doesn't matter now, just keep running. We need to turn left by that bridge up ahead, and then carry along the river for a bit. It's not much further. Do you think you can make it?'

'Don't worry about me,' he said between gasps of air, 'just get us to this safe house of yours.'

D.R. Hurley

Nine

Insects. Hwethgar. A fitting name for those wretched beings that consume this world. Look at them now and see what fools they are! To hunt such a force is folly, and yet they still try.

Blinded by their ignorance, they pursue the one who would save this world. They think they are so mighty, so powerful. Yet naïve they remain. The child will escape, and soon he will grow. Their doom is at hand, the gods themselves decree it. They who once spoke to us, as we now speak to him. Together we will cleanse this world of the insect filth that taints it. In their name we will rule, as one!

The rain fell hard against Pieta Sovell's door, driven swiftly by the hash winds which rattled his windows and whistled down his chimney. A truly wonderful sound he thought, once one was tucked up safely inside!

The old Hibernian had just settled down for the night in his favourite chair, with a book in one hand and a pipe stuffed with tobacco in the other, as he usually did on most evenings, when he heard a rather intrusive knocking sound coming from his door. Pieta normally would have ignored such a ghastly disturbance on such an awful night, since it was probably just another homeless beggar wanting a dry roof to see out the storm. But the knocking persisted in such an aggressive manner he feared the very screws holding the door in place were in danger of being smashed out!

So, he got to his feet, with pipe still in hand, and made for the door, cursing in his native tongue. Why was it always his house they chose to disturb? There were plenty of other, grubbier houses on the street that could take them in.

He pulled the door open, still cursing, and was about to start ranting when he caught sight of two, half drenched individuals, standing underneath his porch. One was a tall, barefooted man, with a beaten appearance. He didn't recognise him. But the other was female, and bared resemblance to someone he couldn't quite place. At first, he mistook her for a small child, until the girl pulled back her hood, and revealed a pixie-like face surround with crimson hair. Pieta gasped as memories of an old life came flooding back into his mind.

'Miss Darnto?' he said in amazement. The girl took a step forward.

'What's the matter, Pieta, you getting deaf or something in your old age?!' she said rudely, ignoring his bemused features.

'Come on shift out the way, we're soaked to the bone and could do with some warming.' The young girl pushed her way past the bemused man and began removing her sodden clothes.

'I suppose you're going to stand there all night?' she said to Leos in an equally rude manner, as he stood in the rain.

'My lady, I'm speechless,' the old man stammered, 'what fate has led you to my door, after so many years?' He gave a short bow that seemed out of place.

'If I'd have known you were coming, I would have-'

'Enough of that, Pieta. Come in and shut the door quickly.' the girl said, throwing her coat over a small pile of firewood.

My lady? thought Leos, who was completely baffled by the old man's term for her.

'And don't you worry about that either!' she snapped at Leos, 'just come inside the pair of you and shut the door. It's letting in an awful chill.' The two men exchanged a shared look of surprise.

'If it's not too much trouble, of course?' said Leos awkwardly. He assumed this, Pieta, was also a Hibernian, judging from his blue skin. The old man nodded in response.

'Of course, yes of course. You are both welcome here. Praise the Maidens you have come. Please, come in and dry yourself.' Leos gave his thanks and entered, but not before looking back to see if anyone had seen them.

He went inside the narrow hallway leaving Pieta to shut the door. For some reason he felt like he could relax a bit here and breathed a sigh of relief. Pieta hastily put every bolt and latch he had across his door, before turning to see what looked like a wounded Enforcer standing in his hallway.

Leos held the stolen coat in one hand while pressing the other onto his weeping stomach wound. The surprised look on Pieta's face made him embarrassed. Pieta was not one for associating with the law, not that he had anything to hide of course, but always thought it better to keep his distance, and felt a little uneasy.

'Are you in some kind of trouble?' he asked curiously, but the girl dismissed his concerns.

'Of course I'm not, Pieta. Come now, you know me better than that.'

'It's because I do know you that I ask.' he muttered.

'Nonsense! I merely bumped into an old friend of mine and we were catching up when the rain struck. I remembered you lived close by and thought it might be nice to say hello.'

'I see,' replied the old man, clearly unconvinced, 'and what of your injured friend, Madame. It's not like you to be courting with members of the law.'

'You leave Leos alone, he's fine. Just had a slight accident that's all. I'll see to him in a bit. As you can see, we could do with drying off, and I'd appreciate a bit of food. Our bellies are rather light at the moment, if you don't mind.' She gave a cheeky smirk to Leos, whose perplexed expression remained unchanged.

Pieta looked curiously at the man whose uniform clearly didn't fit, and the purple bruises that frequented his exposed skin.

'Leos?' he said curiously, 'tell me Sir, is that your real name or some sort of alias?' Again, the expression on Leos's face did not alter. He simply stared at the old man, unsure how best to respond. His silence spoke volumes to Pieta.

'Ah, where are my manners. I'm sorry for all the questions, but you see it's, well. It's been so long and I-'

'Time enough for that later!' said Lyanna with a sharp tone that didn't go unnoticed to Leos's ears.

'Yes of course, come both of you into the lounge, I'll fetch some clean bandages for your friend also. Please sir, try not to bleed on the carpet, if you will.'

He led them along a short hallway and into a room with several heavy looking chairs, placed near a stone fireplace. Pieta stoked the fire as they got seated, adding another log or two where needed. The warm flames were very welcome indeed and gently illuminated an otherwise dark room. The old man went off, only to return again a short time later with two large blankets, and a bundle of neatly folded clothes.

'I kept these from our last meeting.' he said fondly, handing the girl some clothes. Lyanna seemed to withdraw slightly at his comment, but quickly recovered. She gratefully took the garments from the old man, then he handed a pile to Leos.

'These belonged to my son, they were his travelling clothes. I think they should fit. But first, we must tend to your, accident, as it were. It looks a bit nasty.'

'It's fine really.' said Leos wincing as he reached for the pile of clothes.

'No, I insist,' protested Pieta, 'come now, let's see to it.'

'He's right Leos,' interjected the girl, 'it needs sorting before it gets any worse. That wound won't heal on its own.'

Leos reluctantly agreed to let them help and slowly removed his sodden shirt from his body, much to his discomfort, then unwrapped the sheet blanket from his waist. The wound was deep and bled slowly, it looked painful. Pieta couldn't help noticing the numerous bruises covering his guest's body, but held his tongue. Lyanna also stared briefly. The bruises were less purple now and more of a pinkish colour, a sign they were healing, but the sight of so many was still disturbing. She couldn't help but feel pity for the man.

She moved out from her chair and knelt beside Leos.

'Don't worry, this shouldn't hurt a big lad like you.'

'Shouldn't?' replied Leos sceptically. Lyanna smiled, then placed her hands over the wound and began to sing softly. A familiar blue light emitted from under her tiny hands as the song continued. There was pain, sharp and intense. Her touch felt bitterly cold against his skin. Leos gasped, and gripped the chair's arms tightly, but tried to remain still. He listened to the tune, hoping it would distract his mind, but the words were unrecognisable to his ear.

After a short time, the pain receded, until it was little more than a cool soothing sensation. The song stopped, and the little girl moved back slightly. Pieta handed her some damp cloths, which she used to wipe away the remaining blood.

Leos looked down and was amazed to see that the wound had all but gone. A large patch of pink skin remained in its place, which was sore to the touch. Lyanna gently bandaged the wound.

'Now, that wasn't so bad, eh?' she said calmly, 'it will still need several days to heal properly, but will do for now. The bandage will stop the skin from breaking.' Leos was dumbfounded. Unable to believe what he had just seen. A simple thank you was just about all he could manage.

The girl smiled then moved back to her chair, taking the garments Pieta had given her.

'I'm going to change out of these wet rags.' she said to them both, then walked to the spare bedroom. Pieta nodded, then collected the blooded prison clothes. He stared at the man sitting in his home, and took note of his bemused face.

'You have the look of one who's never seen the Eyther before?' he said to Leos, which made the man's cheeks go red.

'I don't know what to say.' he admitted, feeling more than a little embarrassed.

'My memories are... What is it, the Eyther?' he asked.

The old man smiled, further wrinkling his weathered face. He considered the question as he sat down in the opposite chair, and began to explain,

'It's one of the talents bestowed to us by the Maidens.'

'The Maidens?' asked Leos curiously.

'That's right, the Silver Maidens. Ja'mei and Ja'mia. The beautiful twin sisters of Tumarr, and daughters to the great Belthor and mother Hamiya. When the family of Gods fell from existence, they passed on certain boons to their children to aid them in their future.' Leos looked down to the patch of pink flesh and rubbed it softly.

'And this, Eyther, is one such boon?'

'Of course. You see, the Maidens had a love for nature, and all the world's creatures. They spent their time playing with the animals, and nurtured them when needed. They wanted their children to be able to heal any kind of pain, just like they could, so granted us, the Eyther.'

Pieta raised a callused hand and smiled warmly as a blue light suddenly engulfed it. Leos marvelled at the display and stared intently as the shining light gradually faded.

'What else can you do with it?' he whispered.

'Oh, lots of things I suppose. There's really no limit. Its power varies greatly between the user, but generally, it works strongest at night. The light of the twin moons seems to empower us further.'

Leos thought back to his recent encounter with the law. And remembered seeing the ball of light Lyanna had summoned before throwing at the guards.

'So, what did we get then? I mean, what did, Cowldonians get?' Pieta smiled,

'Knowledge, above all else. Enough to craft wondrous creations that have shaped the entire planet. Take the Airships for example. If the Empire chose not to share this wonderful invention with the world, things would be quite different.'

Leos nodded to the old man's words, but couldn't help feeling a little deflated.

'What happened to the Maidens?' he asked softly. Pieta seemed to grow sadder as he continued the tale.

'After the Great Betrayal, the Maidens grief was such they chose never to see the land they had loved in the light of day. For to see the planet's beauty without their kin brought eternal sadness to their hearts. They couldn't bear to stay, and so fled into the sky. They still appear every night, mourning their loss. Masked as twin moons. Their silver light serves as a reminder to their grief. You can still feel the sadness exuding from them as you look up sometimes. But, alas, I digress. You must change. Just leave the rest of your clothes there please.' he said, pointing to a wooden table.

'I presume you'd like me to dispose of these, garments, for you?' Leos looked embarrassed and just nodded in reply.

'Very good then.' said the old man before getting up and darting off to the kitchen. The sound of clanging pans and rattled cutlery soon drifted into the room.

Leos stared into the fire, and watched the dancing flames skim over the wood. A gentle breeze blew down the chimney, which aggravated the movement further. He got changed whilst no one was about, removing his wet trousers and dried himself with a towel Pieta had provided.

He put on the old clothes, which fitted him nicely. The finely woven shirt and cotton trousers were of typical Hibernian style, and seemed expensive. A little flamboyant for his tastes, but he wore them regardless.

Afterwards, he rubbed his sore feet then sat back in the comfortable chair, flexing his toes in the fire's warmth. For the first time since he woke up in those god awful chambers, he relaxed, and for a moment let his mind forgot about all the troubles that plagued him. He wriggled his toes more whilst sinking further into the chair.

The fire's warmth bathed him in a satisfying orange glow. The chair was a little too small for him, but still comfortable.

His dark eyes drifted lazily about the room. He saw maps of distant lands, and tapestries written with strange words hanging from the walls. There were books all around, hundreds of them. All placed about the room in every available space, again the text was unknown. Everything seemed to be from somewhere else. Even the heavy armchairs and thick blankets were woven with strange pictures of large tusked animals and snowy mountains, that somehow didn't fit in with this city.

His gaze fell finally upon the little girl who re-entered the room in her new clothes. They were of a similar fashion to his own, only more fitted. She too never seemed to quite fit in with her surroundings, but strangely, looked very much at home amidst this unfamiliar atmosphere. An atmosphere that appeared to have aged her from the moment she entered.

'Nice to see you again, my lady.' he said coyly. The girl remained still. For a moment she said nothing, and just stood there staring at him.

'What's wrong?' he asked when she didn't respond, noticing the slight glazing of her emerald eyes.

'I'm sorry. It's just, you reminded me of...' she started but never finished as Pieta suddenly appeared, carrying a tray of food and a steaming pot of coffee. He set the tray down on a nearby dresser, then paused after seeing Leos in his new clothes.

'My, my. Don't you look like the man of Hibernia. Dare I say noble.' he said to Leos with a wink, then offered them both a bowl of soup. Lyanna took one too, then sat down in the chair opposite.

For a while she stared into the fire, cradling the soup between here petit hands.

'What exactly is Hibernia?' asked Leos between mouthful of the warm broth. The girl smirked at the silliness of the question, and tried not to laugh. She began eating the soup, so to hide from Leos's scowling face. Pieta looked at the man dubiously.

'I can't tell if your joking, sir?' he replied.

'Pieta look at his arms.' said the girl with a smirk.

'Ah yes, I did notice. Had a little run-in with the law eh? He said with a raised eyebrow. Leos remained silent.

'Well, it's none of my business. Let me explain then. Hibernia is the land of winter my lad. The most beautiful realm in all the world. Its borders lie far to the north, where the air's forever cold.'

Lyanna's gaze drifted back to the fire, and watched the golden flames dancing around thick chunks of burning wood. A sadness filled her eyes as the old man continued.

'It is a distant kingdom, covered deep in layers of snow and ice. Dangerous and perilous to the unwary, but also beautiful and enchanting beyond compare.'

'You are from this place?' asked Leos.

'Why yes of course. It is the nation of our birth.' replied Pieta proudly. The girl however chose not to respond, and just nodded.

'It was.' she said quietly.

'And I thought you were a Cowldonian!' said Leos jokingly, and for a moment he thought the girl would truly explode after his accidental insult.

'I told you in the cell I wasn't. And the tavern!' she snapped.

'Relax, I'm only messing with you.' apologised Leos, trying not to laugh. The girl's cheeks darkened as she continued to stare at the fire. For a while no one spoke, until Pieta coughed awkwardly to break the silence.

'Come, eat your soup. I'll go get some coffee to warm us properly, it should be ready now.'

The old man rose from his seat, then began pouring the dark brew, placing a steaming cup by each of his guests. The coffee gave off a pungent spiced aroma which scented the air. Pieta rubbed a hand through his snow coloured hair after finishing, then put on his spectacles to check the time on his ornate pocket watch.

'Maiden's breath, it's late.' he said to himself before stuffing the watch back into his claret coloured waistcoat.

Pieta sat in his second favourite chair, the first being pinched by Lyanna, and started to light his pipe. A burning match lit up his wrinkled face as he puffed away, emphasizing his blue complexion that was similar Lyanna's, although his was much darker.

'So, my lady,' he said whilst puffing out thick wafts of silky smoke, 'how long has it been since our last parting? Ten, twelve? Surely not-'

'Fifteen years last full moon. And it still feels like this very morning when we said our goodbyes. I hope your retirement has been, relaxing?' Leos almost choked on his coffee. Fifteen years!? Surely, they were mistaken. The two looked at him, sensing his unrest.

'What's wrong my lad?' asked Pieta. Leos stuttered with his response.

'Well it's just, I thought you were a child.' he said to the girl, almost embarrassed.

'You what?' snapped Lyanna, stiffing in her chair. The old man chuckled.

'It seems you've also forgotten about the longevity of our race.' he said, continuing to laugh. Leos felt his check glow from being mocked.

'We're Hibernian Leos, our bodies age slower. My people have been blessed with the gift of long life and can live at least, three times that of a Cowldonian. Most have survived longer. Why, I'm close to my ninetieth year, so don't call me a child!'

'Alright I'm sorry, I didn't know ok.' he pleaded, raising his hands in defence.

'Seems like your mind is a little worse for wear my boy,' said Pieta with a smile, 'anyway, enough of that nonsense. Has it really been so long since we last met?' the old man asked, bringing his attention back to Lyanna.

'It's true I've certainly enjoyed my time resting these old bones, and indulging myself whenever I see fit!' he chuckled, proudly patting his round belly.

'And yet, not a single day has passed during my travels that I wished to be back home, even now a piece of me yearns for it. I guess my heart will always lie in Anthrea. Tell me, I don't mean to be rash, but is that the reason why you are here. Are you finally going to honour our agreement or-'

'Be silent Pieta!' snapped Lyanna suddenly as her checks darkened in anger. Her outburst startled the old Hibernian, who sat frozen for a time, puffing on his pipe before speaking again.

'I am sorry. Please forgive me. It is not the time to speak of such things.'

He encouraged the pair to drink, before the coffee went cold. Leos did so quickly, eager to break the tense air. The brew was rich and spicy, but sent a warm feeling throughout the body that grew stronger with every sip. A strange, but satisfying flavour lingered in the mouth, which cleared the nose and sharpened the mind. Leos enjoyed the beverage and took a second cup when offered.

Pieta began to speak of how he had to search far and wide to get hold of the unique beans that grew only in his native land.

'I met a fellow who deals in exotic imports one year. His stall was set up on the river outside of Barlik. Twice a month he gets a shipment sent downstream from Ostium, and twice a month I go back to him and refill my jars.'

At that point Lyanna put down her cup and stared at the man.

'Twice a month you say?' she asked suddenly, 'when is your next delivery due?'

'Well as it happens, it's actually tomorrow. I was going to leave early in the morning, but it can wait now that I have guests to-'

'Pieta you must take us to Barlik tomorrow. First thing in the morning, no, just before sunrise. And you must be discrete ok. We can't have anyone seeing Leos leave the city.' she said insistently, although it sounded more like a command then a favour. The old man was speechless. It took him a minute to reply.

'I, guess I could, but I don't see why-' he began stuttering, but again was cut off by the girl.

'Good, then it's settled. We best get some sleep before we depart, daybreak's only a few hours away, and we must be fresh for the road. Goodnight gentlemen.' Lyanna got up and left the men to themselves. The pair sat for a while in silence, confused at the sudden change of events. Pieta was the one to speak first.

'Same old Lyanna. Always rushing off,' he muttered,

'I cannot offer you a bed, I'm afraid. You'll have to sleep here. But I can bring some extra cushions if you like?'

'No, I'm fine thanks. You have been most kind, Mr Pieta. Thank you. Although I'd appreciate some socks.

The old man smiled, then nodded in response. He rose from the comfort of his chair and made his way to his bedroom.

'Just leave the fire to burn out.' he said to Leos before leaving. Leos replied with a grunt, then wrapped a thick blanket about him and settled down as best he could.

Outside it was still raining; the sound of water splashing hard against the windows filled the man's ears, but was most comforting. He stared into the fire as his thoughts wandered. It didn't take long for sleep to find him, and soon he drifted off into a deep slumber, filled with strange and vivid dreams...

It started with a dozen voices. Slow and ghostly. They hissed at him in a strange language, the words were unknown yet somehow hypnotic. Leos realised he was alone, standing in a dark void of eternal nothingness.

Looking around, he saw only darkness, there was nothing to be seen. The voices persisted, coming from all around yet at the same time nowhere. At first the words were completely alien, but were now beginning to make sense. The more he listened the more he understood. And out of all the many voices echoing around him, the man heard one cries loudest of all.

Father,

We are here!

D.R. Hurley

Ten

Amongst the looming shadows of a forgotten structure, a figure stood alone before a large cylindrical tank. Its contents filled with murky green fluid, and the stain of a dark shape floating within. A slither of crimson light emitted faintly from where the figure's eye should have been, betraying a sinister appearance. The soldier never saw the trickle of tiny bubbles drifting through the tank's rank fluid, for his thoughts of the past were so strong it consumed his vision of the present. A reflection set upon the glass tank revealed the face of its creator, General Marcus Zion.

The veteran soldier stood transfixed amidst the eerie gloom for hours. His figure poised and otherwise motionless, save for the gentle movement of his thumb, rubbing across a medal in the shape of a metal star. A medal once held dear by someone close to his heart. Someone now lost forever.

'Soon justice will be upheld. And my heart can finally be at peace.' he said aloud.

Time passed slowly in this lonely place. He didn't know how late it was, nor even that the sun was soon to rise, for light could not penetrate this underground structure.

'Tell me Marcus, what about my son's capture? Has there been further development?'

Memories of the Emperor's voice echoed loudly inside the General's head from the meeting he attended earlier that day. It seemed to go well, he mused, despite the gravity of the situation...

'I'm supposed to be the most powerful man in the entire Empire, and yet, despite all the assets available to me, my family is being held at the mercy of criminals! How could this happen, Marcus, I truly don't understand!?'

General Zion stood proudly before Emperor Lucius Gildane in his private chambers, unfazed by his lordship's outburst.

'Who can say that which drives a man to commit such acts, my lord. Or in this case, what rat?' the General replied bluntly.

'It's definitely the Trians then?' asked Lucius.

'Indeed it is.' replied Marcus, who held up the bronze dagger clutched tightly by his side, and presented it to his friend.

'We recovered this from the crime scene, sire. A ceremonial weapon. Its origin is clear. This message was also found in the traitor's possession.' He removed a piece of folded parchment from within his tunic and handed it to the Emperor.

For the unjust king, who sits firmly upon his mountain of lies, we beseech thee. A reckoning is upon you, and must be succeeded. The child's life returned, for the lands you once stole. A fair exchange we feel, for blood once spilt.

Lucius shook his head in disbelief as he read the message.

'This makes no sense. It speaks of the borderlands, the frontier! Is that what they want? I thought we settled that quarrel recently. A treaty was sanctioned two winters ago.'

'It would seem, my lord, their temper still smoulders. But we do have some good news. An arrest was made this very morning. My men return via airship with the monks responsible for taking the Prince. They are scheduled to arrive soon. Rest assured, those scum will not breathe clean air for much longer. Soon they will be brought to justice. The Dark Uncle will bathe their souls in the Black Sulphur Pits for all eternity!' Lucius grunted in agreement.

'That's something at least. Are you confident they can reveal anything more about this plot?'

'It's unlikely sire. I expect their role was simply to carry out the abduction, but we will interrogate them regardless.'

'You will have to work quickly, I want a public hanging to be performed tomorrow morning, spread word around the capital immediately. We shall make an exhibition of them! Anything else?' asked Lucius.

'I've sent word for the White Army to prepare itself for war. We'll march to the border with a show of force, and bring the cowardly vermin to justice. Your men wait only for the command, my lord.'

The Emperor's metal foot clumped repeatedly as he limped across his lavishly decorated chamber, leaving an imprint on the soft carpet. He stopped before a sun-drenched balcony overlooking the royal gardens, and considered the idea before replying.

'You believe that is the best course? To respond with force. Won't the Trian's simply kill the boy as soon as they see Cowldonian soldiers marching upon their door?'

'I believe that's what they'll want us to think, sire. Once the Trian dogs see Cowldonia banners bearing down on them, they will know we our serious, and have no choice but to release your son. Lest risk open war.'

Lucius sighed and looked out over the Imperial estate, and the gardens his son loved playing in. It was late afternoon, and already the great provider was beginning his descent to the horizon.

'A gamble. With the highest of stakes at play. I will consider your plan. I trust in your advice Marcus, it's just my heart pains me to take such a risk needlessly. Part of me thinks we should simply give in to their demands. The land holds little meaning to us anyway, why not-'

'Because we cannot bow to villain's Lucius, no matter what the cost!' replied Marcus firmly, 'if we do so then what next, what message will that send to the world? That Cowldonia can be so easily bent to the will of others. No! We must fight this, contest it-'

'This is my son's life Marcus; my son! I thought you of all people could sympathise with that....' Lucius paused as he saw his friend's face slacken. The memories of the past suddenly flashed before his eyes.

'I'm sorry, my friend. Forgive me. I replied absent thought.'

'There is, nothing to forgive, sire. It is because of my own pain that I can stand here knowing we have no choice. Truly, I know what you're going through.'

He smiled softly for a moment and touched the medal hanging from his neck.

'Will you drink with me, Marcus?' asked Lucius, as he walked over to a wooden cabinet filled with fine drinks. He removed a bottle of Cowldonian brandy and poured the General a measure. Marcus took the glass and raised it.

'To family.' said the Emperor.

'To justice!' countered Marcus. The two men nodded in agreement, then drained their glasses in one swift movement. Lucius poured them both another.

'Now tell me, what of this traitor I've heard of? Surely the rumours cannot be true?' Marcus eyed the amber liquor in his glass as he replied.

'I'm afraid they are, sire. A citizen of Cowldonia was taken into custody shortly after the, incident. He was found at the scene, covered in blood.'

'And his involvement?'

'Progress has been made, yet still nothing forthcoming. It's proving difficult since he seems to have no memory.'

'Well that's convenient.'

'A possible ruse by the true architects of this plot, to protect themselves from discovery. Nothing more. Rest assured, we have top men working on it.'

Lucius turned from his friend and began pacing the room, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. Puffs of vapour escaped into the air as the mechanical leg operated.

'The scum who sanctioned this treason will hang!' he said bitterly, whilst turning to face the General.

'Thank you, Marcus. I know you're doing your best...'

The memory faded, and Marcus found himself standing before the giant cylindrical tank once again. The green waters contained within it cast an unearthly glow upon him. He didn't flinch when the voices came, hissing quietly in the back of his mind. At first, he thought it was nothing, his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he'd exceeded his quota of Cowldonian brandy for the night, and it was beginning to get the better of him? He turned as the voice spoke anew, and called out to the darkness, but he was met with silence.

The rank fluid in the tank began to bubble as the words came at him again, closer this time. Marcus then realised he could actually hear them speaking inside his head. The language was unknown to the General, yet somehow seemed to make sense, and was disturbingly alluring, hypnotic even. It started as a whisper upon the air, but soon grew into a scratching hiss that pierced the innermost depths of his mind.

'What do you want of me!' he yelled, turning to locate its source. The voices persisted, until one spoke clearly.

To remember the past. It hissed slowly.

Marcus suddenly found himself taken back to the Emperor's chambers as a wave of thoughts flooded into his mind unrepressed...

'If there was one wish a man could have, Marcus, wouldn't it be to ensure the safety and wellbeing of his family?'

'He would do anything to protect his kin, even forfeit his own life if needed.' agreed Marcus before savouring a particularly old, and refined brandy from the palace cellar.

Lucius sipped his drink and regarded the man sitting before him. His figure had certainly grown more of late, but he was still a fine soldier. Proud and honourable, except for that ridiculous eye, although he understood its purpose.

'I would burn them all to get him back.' said Lucius darkly, taking another long sip from his crystal tumbler.

There was no response. The Emperor cast his ageing eyes over to his friend, who had paused mid sip of his drink, and noted the long scar that ran down his face and the medal worn around the General's neck. An item the Emperor knew all too well of its meaning to his friend, and the inner turmoil it caused him.

'You miss him?' asked Lucius. Marcus kept his gaze fixed upon his drink as he spoke.

'Every moment, of my continued existence. But my heart cannot wallow forever. A man's life is written with both feet as he walks the everlasting cycle of existence, guided by whatever god or demon, he must go forth into the unknown with his hands tied behind his back.' quoted Marcus sombrely, raising his glass in a mock toast. The Emperor followed then together they emptied their glasses.

Lucius got out of his chair. The ornate leg buzzed into life as he walked slowly back to the balcony, thoughts drifting back to that of his son. Bathed in the fading afternoon sun, the Emperor looked every bit as splendid and regal as a man of his position should be. He wore a dark green tunic and a brown sash with, the Gildane coat of arms pinned to his breast.

'The Dark Uncle's eyes be welcomed those responsible for this treason, after I'm finished with them.' he said aloud. Marcus grunted in agreement, whilst pouring himself another generous measure of brandy.

'Yes, and it shall be my hand that guides them to him.' he muttered...

The dream faded. Marcus came back to his surroundings.

The hypnotic voices continued their spell, which he did not resist, they had him now. The strange words swirled around his mind from a million directions. The water in the tank bubbled furiously. One voice stood out among the others, loudest of all.

Do what is right for your kin. It said to him. Marcus froze, and stared at the tank.

'I live only to serve my country.' he replied, with a hand pressed to his heart.

No, you live to avenge that which was taken! The one voice said as the others spoke around it, still chanting the language he did not recognise.

Serve thy country, young Hwethgar, by serving yourself. Serve through pain and pity, to one day rise as a true king...

The misted words caused an avalanche of troubled thoughts to fall upon Marcus's mind. He ground his teeth angrily as a lone tear fell down his check.

'Justice, is finally within my grasp. A mere arm's reach from my fingers.'

It's what you deserve...

'After so many years, the time has come for me to reach out and take what is needed, and sooth the searing pain in my heart.'

You shall have it...

He reached out and placed a palm on the glass tank, his fingers spread wide across the smooth surface. The water continued to boil. He saw the reflection cast, a bitter reminder of his shame. He looked at his face, the glowing red eye, lost at the same time his heart tore open. The face he saw changed and shifted to another. The appearance on the glass was not unlike this own.

A face that reminded him of himself in days gone by.

A face that belonged to his son.

Justice is owed to you. In his name war will be waged...

'Yes' he said bitterly. His fingers clenched tightly around the medal.

Honour your family with vengeance...

'I will' he swore. His voice filling with hate.

Blood to be met with blood. The dogs will suffer, just as you have. They will know fear!

The voices stopped. The water calmed. Silence ensued. The General came out of his daze and saw his own reflection cast upon the tank once more. The red eye glowed menacingly in the dull light. He turned to leave; his mind now set to purpose. A cruel smile spread across his scarred face as he regarded the precious medal held within his fist.

'Vengeance shall be mine!'

D.R. Hurley

Eleven

The City of Jyonti was surrounded by a thick stone wall, some twenty feet in height, and studded with an array of gate house blocks, every mile or so. Each was built directly into the wall and contained a troop of twelve soldiers, whose orders were not only to protect the city's borders, but contain any escapees trying to flee.

Life was typically routine for the men stationed on the wall. Every day a soldier would spend one hour on the main gate, then a second hour patrolling along the parapet carrying heavy crossbows. After this, he would have several hours rest before repeating. But this time would usually be spent polishing kit and maintaining equipment, in case of surprise inspections instigated by bored officers, who didn't have anything better to do. Many soldiers posted here considered it an easy number, and a break from the stress and danger of active service.

Today however the soldiers at the gate didn't seem to have their usual lacklustre attitude to searching, and bore a far more diligent approach, checking persons and their carts with renewed purpose. Something had them spooked. Pieta could tell.

The old man exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves, and gripped the leather reins a little tighter as his horse drawn cart trotted towards them. He had a pretty good idea as to the reason for all the excitement. They were looking for someone.

'Come on, Amicus, don't be daunted.' he said to his horse as they headed closer to the horizon's stone laced silhouette, separating the Iron City from the rest of the Empire. The wagon, which had an unusually thick chassis, was painted cyan, and decorated with golden Hibernian symbols along its sides; a style that was so typical of the northern realms, but stuck out like a sore thumb in this region of the world.

Long grass lined the roadside dressed in morning dew; the captured drops of moisture sparkled brightly in the growing sunshine like precious jewels. Pieta could hear the faint rustle of golden wheat swaying softly in the gentle breeze. Indeed, it was a glorious spring morning, but that was not on the front of his mind.

'Now, please remember. You are my niece, who's been visiting from distant Hibernia and now sadly the time has come for me to see you home.' he whispered to the child-like person sitting next to him.

'Yes, yes, I know that Pieta, don't worry!' said Lyanna dismissively as she swung her legs idly over the cart's edge. The girl seemed more concerned about the annoying squeak originating from the cart's wheels, then attracting the attention of the authorities.

'Can't you do something about that blasted noise?' she asked crossly. Pieta chuckled to himself but continued to look towards the approaching gate, their path was barred by two soldiers armed with spears.

The pair had dressed in simple travelling clothes. Pieta wore a red waistcoat, unfastened, and a loose-fitting coat, stitched with gold embroidery on the cuffs and trim. Lyanna's robes were much more fitted and dyed various shades of purple and lilac. A guard stepped forward and waved them on. The old man nodded and headed towards the indicated spot. The elaborate cart jerked suddenly as it drove over a rut in the track, which caused a muffled cry from beneath them.

'Quiet you fool, we are upon them!' hissed the girl as they closed the distance.

They slowly trotted up to where the guard wanted, then came to a halt. Amicus shook his shaggy mane and whinnied as one of the soldiers approached.

'By order of the Jyonti District Inspector, all traffic leaving the town must be searched for a missing person. Step down from the wagon immediately.' the guard said by way of greeting. His steel cuirass and kettle hat shone brightly as it caught the morning sun. The two Hibernians exchange a glance, then did as they were ordered.

'State your business and destination.' said the soldier as his colleague began looking around the little cart. Pieta cleared his throat and spoke first.

'Of course. My niece and I are journeying over to the port of Barlik, where she will join her parents on their way back home to the Northern Realm. I also hope to acquire some fine Hibernian coffee beans, before my return on the morrow.' The guard grunted then looked at the little girl, who smiled warmly at him. Her auburn hair hung heavily in a side ponytail today, and she played with it idly as she stood.

He inspected the wagon's rear and found it empty, save for a few woven sacks.

'For the beans.' Pieta said nervously as the guard poked at the sacks with his sword.

'Anything?' he said to his colleague, who was now on his hands and knees, looking underneath the empty cart. Pieta shared a nervous glance with Lyanna that went unnoticed.

The soldier then stood and dusted off his grey trousers.

'Nothing. It's clean.' he said, before moving back to the main gate. The other man nodded then moved aside to let them through.

'Alright, be on your way.' he said firmly, waving them forward.

'Tumarr's blessing to you sir.' said Pieta gratefully as the pair climbed back onto the cart.

The old man took the leather reins and cracked them gently. The cart moved on, squeaking as it went. The men at the gate raised their weapons and stepped aside, allowing the wagon to trundle through the stone arch. A giant banner of green and brown hung above, flapping gently in the morning breeze. The smile faded from Lyanna's face and became a sneer of resentment as she looked upon the Gildane family crest, stitched upon the fabric.

'And good riddance!' she muttered.

*****

It was a slow ride across the neighbouring farmland district, but unfortunately not a smooth one. The pair were frequently stopped by random patrols of soldiers, mounted on steam-powered horses. The mechanical beasts produced a trail of blackened fumes from their hind mounted exhausts, so were easy to spot. None however, managed to discover the secret compartment inside the cart's chassis. Nor its hidden cargo.

As the day drifted along, the patrols became fewer and further apart, yet Pieta felt it was still much too risky to let Leos out of his hiding spot, since the main trail east to Barlik was fairly well travelled.

'How's our friend doing down there?' asked Pieta as they trotted along. It was almost noon, and mighty Belthor was almost at his peak. Warm rays of heat radiated strongly from the great sun God, making it feel more like summer.

'Sleeping. Although I dare say soundly. It's probably quite stuffy in there with this heat. It's quite fortunate you had that thing installed. I don't know how else we could have gotten through there. Why did you decide to do it anyway?' Lyanna asked curiously. Pieta chuckled quietly to himself.

'Well, it's quite obvious really. I knew one day I'd get a knock on my door and have to ferry a wanted man out of the country, so went ahead and got it ready!'

'Fine, keep your secrets. It matters not. It serves our purpose, though I fear it's done nothing to ease our friend's mind. He feels somewhat, troubled in there.' Pieta grunted to himself.

'I too would find it difficult to rest, if I was wanted for treason!' he replied dryly. Lyanna stiffened in her seat as her face became full of worry.

'What are you talking about?'

'My dear child, I may be old but please, don't think me a fool. It's not hard to read the clues.' he said with a wink. Lyanna didn't answer.

'The only question I wish to know is why? What could drive you to aid this, alleged criminal, and help him escape? Do you expect your people to hide him from the Emperor or something? That's quite a dangerous game to play don't you think?'

'It's complicated,' she replied quickly, 'and don't call them my people. They're not.'

'Not yet,' he mumbled, 'well, the road ahead is still long, we've got time go through it if you like.'

Lyanna sighed and took a moment to think before answering. The steady clop of hooves hitting stone filled the ensuing silence, although not quite enough to carry over the annoying squeak from the wheel.

'I don't know,' she said finally, 'perhaps, because it is the right thing to do.'

'Because it is the right thing to do,' muttered Pieta, 'and why should that bother you now? Have you finally had a change of heart about your past?' he looked down at her, hoping for a reply, but she turned her emerald eyes from him.

'Perhaps I feel, that if I can save his life, it may help to ease some of my own troubles.' Pieta considered this.

'As decent as that sounds, my dear, I fear it will do little to appease. The past will remain as it is. One life spared would not bring the countless others back.' Pieta noted the sadness in her face as his words sunk in, and decided not to press the matter further. At least she had finally decided to go back.

'Well, it is a noble gesture in any case. But then again, has aiding and abetting a suspected kidnapper ever been deemed noble?' he said raising a bushy eyebrow.

'He didn't do it, Pieta!' she said bluntly. The old man's eyebrow raised further still.

'You know this?'

'I know he feels innocent, truly believes it. You can't fake those kind of emotions.'

'Even with memory loss?'

Lyanna smiled and looked away, her gaze drifting over toward the rolling hills once more.

'I suspect, one would still retain a certain element of deceit. I have felt no such thing from him.' This seemed to satisfy Pieta who nodded slowly in agreement.

'So, what's your plan?' he asked.

'I'll worry about that when we reach Anthrea.' she replied with a smirk.

*****

It was late afternoon when the squeaking cart arrived at the town of Barlik. It passed through the main gates with little more than a nod from Pieta. The guards clearly recognised the old man from his frequent trips to the area, and didn't bother to question him about his business. They made their way into the town and found a quiet spot, out of the way from prying eyes, to get Leos out of the secret compartment in the cart's base.

The man hauled himself out and dusted himself down, clearly distressed from his long and uncomfortable confinement, judging from the angered look on his face.

'I leave you here,' Pieta said to them both when they were all set, 'you'll have to take the long way around, but it will be much safer for you to get to the dock by yourselves, especially if there are any more guards here. I'll see to your travelling arrangements. Stay safe.' The old Hibernian mounted his cart then whipped the reins, making Amicus trot away.

Lyanna waved him off then led Leos into the town. She was quite familiar with the place, and took the man through the winding back alleys of Barlik. They were careful not to cross any of the busier thoroughfares, unless it was necessary. With Leos's hood pulled over, the pair looked much like a simple Hibernian family of father and daughter. It wasn't uncommon for Hibernians to venture south and settle down, so the two did not look out of place wandering the busy streets. The clothes that Pieta had given Leos were comfortable and neutral in colour, so at least they didn't stand out.

Barlik was a quite a small port by all accounts, yet it was still relatively important, and quite prosperous because it provided a direct link to the Empire's capital, Bangarrow, for those travelling along the northern Hamyian river. Most of its trade came downstream from the Northern Realms, who would then journey west to the capital or continue south to Umlie.

Defended by a small garrison of soldiers, just on the outskirts of the town, Barlik could be considered a place of strategic importance for those wanting to invade Cowldonia, a fact the Emperor was frequently reminded of by his military advisors.

Despite this, it was never fortified, since Lucius Gildane did not want to be remembered as the Emperor who created a militarised state. Not that Leos knew any of this. He saw the untrusting suspicion in everybody he made eye contact with, as he and Lyanna headed to the main dock.

'Relax, you're giving me a headache,' she whispered, rubbing her temples, 'you're acting like an escaped convict who's trying to hide!'

'I am trying to hide.' Leos hissed back. He cast yet another nervous look around, as the pair picked their way through the cluttered streets.

'We're just two people, trying to make their way back home to distant Hibernia. Everything's fine.' she said, flicking a stand of auburn hair out of her eyes. Leos however didn't share the sentiment at all. To him, everything was definitely not fine. They still had to get past the next checkpoint, then hope Pieta's contact had made it through in time. The old man was convinced he could barter passage for them, and up until now he had been good on his word.

As luck would have it, the authorities had not yet alerted Barlik regarding a prison break, and the pair managed to get across town without any trouble.

Many of the buildings they passed looked like they had been fashioned out of the hulls of old ships. When Leos asked about it, Lyanna stated only the wealthiest of families could afford to own any brick-built properties around these parts.

After a while they broke free from the hustle and bustle of the town's main high street and made their way along the riverbank, looking for old Pieta.

Leos was struck by the sheer size of the river that stretched from one horizon to the other and beyond. He could hardly make out the lapping shores on the adjacent side. A cool breeze blew over the rippling waters, gently rustling his dark knotted hair. Boats of various sizes moved up and down the river, powered either by wind or the more advanced steamer engines of recent production. Leos watched one such boat chugging along, with a swarm of gulls squawking noisily in the vessels ponderous wake.

He spied a strange open topped barge full of grain, that was pulled by a large sea creature. The steersman sat up front on a raised bench, a pair of reins held loosely in one hand, a long pipe in the other. A lengthy whip was seated next to him. The creature was mostly submerged, save for its bulbous head sticking out of the water, a harness of thick ropes bound it to the boat like a horse and cart.

'I never realised how pale you are.' said Lyanna as she looked over to Leos. The man frowned and scanned his arms.

'What are you talking about?'

'Look at you. Your skin is so pale. It's unhealthy. I never noticed it before. You should get out more.' Leos shrugged.

'What are you, my mother?' he grumbled, walking away,

'just keep a lookout for old Pieta. I want to keep moving.'

'I see him!' said Lyanna, pointing ahead. Leos followed her gaze and saw the man's cart, about a hundred paces away, it was being loaded with large wooden barrels from a cargo ship of moderate size.

The ship's hull was painted blue, with white stripes around the top, and a large circular paddle mounted low on each side. As they approached the words Fidelis could be seen painted on the stern.

'There you are, I was beginning to fear you wouldn't make it.' said Pieta, who stopped checking the contents of his sacks in the back of his cart. He climbed down to greet them.

'I've managed to secure passage for you aboard this vessel,' he said quietly, 'it's due to sail upriver to Ostium, departing within the hour. From there, you can make your way north east to Anthrea.

'Aye, if the Gods will it!' shouted a rasping voice from above. The group looked up to see a tall, skinny man of hard face, leaning over the ship's railings.

'Hopefully old Jakkaro's temper will remain calm enough for us to make good time.'

'Captain Ectar ensures me you will be well looked after during your stay.' said Pieta whilst turning to introduce the veteran sailor.

'We are in your debt, Mr Ectar.' said Lyanna politely.

'Aye,' the captain grunted whilst tipping his tatty looking hat, 'a debt that I may call upon, if the need arises.' he said with a crafty grin.

'The least we can do for your hospitality.' she replied.

Lyanna turned and hugged Pieta suddenly.

'Take care Pieta, you've been most helpful as always.'

'Not at all. I'm just serving my country, as many a Hibernian would. But please, don't let this be our last parting. Come back and tell me the outcome of your trip.' She smiled warmly then continued the embrace. Leos watched the exchange and wondered about Pieta's meaning of, serving his country, and made a point of mentioning it later. Lyanna ran over to the gangplank, and climbed aboard. Leaving Leos to extend a hand towards Pieta, which was accepted.

'I cannot thank you enough for what you have done.' he said sincerely. The old man smiled, further wrinkling his aged face.

'I know not how you came to meet Miss Darnto, or what trouble you've been caught up in, although I might wager a guess. But that's none of my business. All I ask is that you look after her on your travels. The road to Anthrea is long. Please, keep her safe.'

'You really care for her don't you, Pieta?' said Leos.

'As do all her people,' the old man said with a surprised look on his face, 'see her safe return to them.'

Pieta left Leos with a pat on the shoulder, then mounted his cart and whipped the reins gently. Amicus trotted away slowly, pulling the creaking cart back into the town, leaving a confused Leos to ponder his words.

Her people?

'Come on Leos!' cried the girl from the boat, 'Captain needs a hand to make ready.' He nodded, then made his way over to the vessel, thoughts tumbling through his mind about his companion's mysterious past.

D.R. Hurley

Twelve

With the Father's path now set, our gaze must pass onto the Hwethgar puppet. The one whose fate must dance to our merry tune. It will be from his hands, the first brick of destiny's tower shall be removed, and start the fall which will ruin them all. As the dust settles, his sacrifice will have paved the way for the Father's holy task to begin.

Only one now stands in his way. But his life, is bound to our will. The strands of fate shall sway to suit our needs. Even now his mind toys with the decision to be made. But not for long...

The ancient brass hammer, located in Turrim Tower, struck hard enough against its bell to send a deep, resonating shockwave across Bangarrow square, for all the people to hear.

Normally the sound would have gone unnoticed, amongst the hustle and bustle of daily life, but on this occasion, it was received by the ears of hundreds of silent Cowldonians. All of whom had gathered early to see the public trial, held by the Imperial state.

Four times the hammer would strike. And four times the bell would ring to alert the Dark Uncle of those about to be sent down to the underworld, Atholly, for judgement. By the time the third strike was heard, all eyes were fixed upon the wooden gallows, situated in front of the city hall, and the three hooded figures that knelt before it.

The Trian monks had arrived in the capital the previous day, bound in chains. Since then, the trio had been beaten numerously by their captors, in an effort to stir a confession, but had always proclaimed their innocence. Now they faced certain death. Word had spread quickly throughout Bangarrow, just as the Emperor had wanted, and the overall turnout on the day was vast, considering the short amount of notice given.

The mysterious creatures were a sight to behold for the people of Cowldonia, who stared open mouthed at the would-be kidnappers. Robbed of the heavy robes they usually adorned, their hairless bodies were now exposed to the world, and revealed something of their fanatical culture that, for most, had no clue.

Blocks of sacred text, taken from Slarr's opus, had been painstaking tattooed onto their inflamed skin, along with dozens of scars which criss-crossed their bodies. A stark contrast indeed, to all previously held conceptions of this ancient race.

The Imperial party waited patiently for the proceedings to begin, standing on a large dais next to the gallows. They were dressed in full ceremonial attire and accompanied by a troop of house dragoons, also in ceremonial garb. Grey clouds filtered lightly over the morning sky as the last bell sounded.

Lucius knew it was time to step forth and address his people, but instead hesitated. He gripped his wife's hand tightly and gazed nervously into her dark eyes, recalling the numerous discussions they'd had about Alex since his kidnapping. His people needed to hear Cowldonia's response and now was the time to deliver it.

The couple had been wed for many years and had enjoyed a genuine romance, but Helena knew her husband well enough to know his heart was severely torn between his duty to the Empire, and his own family honour. She also knew him as a man of noble character, and would ultimately make the right choice, no matter what the outcome. After all, how could he risk his only son's life on the General's gambit? It was an impossible decision, and galled Lucius to think that was the only way not to lose face in the eyes of his people. But dammed he'd be to see Alexander harmed.

He nodded to Helena and left her with a faint smile. The Emperor of Cowldonia stepped forward under the gentle clatter of whirling gears, ready to deliver his speech, and took a moment to survey his people before speaking. The polished metal of his mechanical leg shone brightly as it caught the morning light.

'People of Cowldonia! A great, and terrible crime has been wronged against us, and our fine nation. We have been betrayed, by those we have called friend for so long. It grieves me to think that despite all the years of peace we shared, was little more than a ruse to cover true feelings. As you may know, my son, Prince Alexander, was taken by villains several days ago. And now those same hands threaten to end his life, and the peace we've worked so hard to achieve.'

He paused to let the words sink in, taking the time to straighten his pressed white tunic. It was then his gaze caught sight of the Gildane family crest, pinned to his right breast. The precious item gleamed brightly in spite of the dull light, and in that moment, he knew what must be done.

'Let them now be revealed to you. Look upon their faces and know that justice will soon be delivered.'

The Emperor raised a hand towards the gallows, and a pair of armed soldiers started to remove the prisoners' hoods one by one, drawing many cries of hate from the public. Some of them threw rotten food, others cursed their treacherous deity, Slarr.

Inspector Baxi also felt his emotions stir as he watched the Timmetan monks unveiling. He studied the creatures curiously, and was left wondering what lengths could have driven them to remove every trace of fur from the hunched bodies. To what purpose did it serve? Even the Trians' long whiskers had been reduced to a clump of shrivelled stumps. Their inflamed skin looked blisteringly sore; one might assume they had bathed in a pool of acid to alienate themselves from their own kind. His face remained unreadable and gave away no sign of emotion as he studied them.

Baxi watched quietly from the corner of the city square, fingering the small bottle of Fogberry juice within his overcoat pocket. The bitter liquid would help ease the pain in his mind if the crowd got too unruly. Normally he would have done his best to avoid such a large gathering of people, due to the amount of energy they released, but being the lead Inspector on this case his presence was required.

He was accompanied by a particularly large pair of guards, who towered mightily over him. Usually he despised being so close to those idiotic creatures, but on this occasion thought it best to have some form of protection today, just in case things got a little out of hand. A squad of enforcers would have been his preferred option, but due to pressing demands of this ever-growing search for the traitor, resources were scarce.

He looked back at the pair of brutes and shook his head. The ogres seemed rather uninterested in their surroundings and looked idly around, scratching themselves. Predictably, they had failed to take in the gravity of the day's proceedings.

Baxi also tried his best to look engaged, but found his thoughts kept drifting back to recent events. Memories of the escaped traitor, Leos, still weighed heavily on his mind. And there was also the small matter of floating wraiths, which several eyewitnesses claimed to have seen that night.

His ogre guards grinned dumbly and began chuckling as the crowd started throwing rotten food at the prisoners, which brought the Inspector's attention back.

He watched the crowd carefully, noting the sudden shift of mood. Clearly, they were outraged at the Prince's kidnapping and wanted to vent their anger openly before their leader. The steady rise of emotions produced a gentle ache within his head, so he took a tiny sip of Fogberry juice to numb the pain.

As Baxi's eyes swept slowly over the capital's populace, they came to land on the rugged features of Lord Zion, standing proudly at the rear of the dais. The Inspector felt his mood darken upon seeing the old General. Memories of his previous encounter with the man still angered him greatly.

To think blame could be cast solely upon him for the traitor's escape was absurd, ludicrous even. The General didn't hold back either with his all too famous temper, threatening to strip Baxi of his position, and cast him in chains if the matter wasn't dealt with immediately. As if it was that simple!

The Inspector's fists clenched tightly as his emotions rose, much like the crowd, who seemed to be getting unrulier with every passing second.

His eyes moved off the Lord Zion and settled on the Emperor, who was now raising a hand towards his people, signalling the crowd he was ready to continue. The scornful cheers and jaunts began to dwindle as the crowded mass settled once more. Baxi felt his own emotions dwindle and returned to his usual calm demeanour.

The Emperor continued his speech again, but was quickly interrupted as one of the monks suddenly cried out.

'Do not be deceived by this man's lies,' he shouted angrily, drawing many hostile eyes towards him.

'What purpose would it serve for our nation to provoke one yours?'

The crowd responded with an eruption of angered shouts and taunting jeers. A soldier came forward and thrust the butt of his spear into the monk's stomach, doubling him over. But the Trians wouldn't be silenced. And soon, another found his voice, protesting that this was not Slarr's will, but his words were also silenced. General Zion was outraged at the prisoners' brazen claims of innocence, and quickly gave the order to gag the Trian scum, so to prevent any further outbursts.

When all was settled the Emperor continued, hoping to calm the crowd. Their mood seemed to be shifting towards hostility. Yet he couldn't help feeling that what the monk said was true. The whole thing didn't make sense.

He cast such thoughts aside and lifted his voice.

'Long has it been known that the Trians seek to expand their lands and reclaim what is allegedly theirs. The border lands that lie between our two nations have always been contested, and as of yesterday, General Zion has confirmed to me that this is indeed the true nature of their plot, and the ransom for my son's life.'

More cries spewed forth, combined with another barrage of rotten food. Lucius was surprised at the increasing rate the crowd's mood changed, but felt equally shocked to notice his own emotions rise. He tried his best not to get caught up in the moment, but it was so inciting, so invigorating, and impossible to ignore.

His head became dizzy and his breathing quickened. The man's strength drained from his body instantly and he stumbled forward. Lucius caught the dais handrail, for fear of falling and dropped to one knee. Steam vented into the air as his leg quickly compensated for the increased load forced upon it. Helena cried out to him over the crowd, concerned for his wellbeing, but the man waved away her concerns. A few moments later, the strange feeling passed, and he was fine again. Somehow in that brief period his mind became set, and the decision was clear.

Lucius looked across to the kneeling prisoners and felt nothing but pure hatred towards those dammed creatures who'd threatened his son's life. He stepped forwards with renewed purpose and raised his arms high, shouting over his people.

'I say to you now. We will not be held at the mercy of villains. We will not bow down and let fear rule us. The White Army will go forth to Trian and lay siege until your Prince is returned!'

The crowd cheered all the more as he pointed to the accused.

'Let these foul creatures be a message to their dark master. That all those who betray us be dammed along with their deity!' The monks stiffened at the last remark, clearly offended at the slight made against the All Father, and shared an agitated glance between themselves.

Helena gasped in fear at the suddenness of her husband's conviction. The man she loved had just said openly he was prepared to risk the life of his son, over a scrap of worthless land. It shocked her to the core. She turned from the scene as tears fell down her checks and hid her sorrow from the crowd. It was then she noticed the wolfish grin spread broadly over the General's features as he looked towards the Emperor.

*****

Pretoc surveyed the crowded mass of Bangarrow's people with his keen eyes.

Fools! It is you who will be eternally judged for your deception, while my brothers and I lord by our master's side, relinquished of our sins!'

The situation they faced was painfully clear. They were going to die, and had prepared themselves with prayer. At least when they finally meet the All Father, he would show pity on their sacrifice and cleanse their souls of sin.

He looked out across the sea of snarling faces and was shocked to see the amount of hostility directed toward him. So much hate, so much fear. It was frightening to behold. To be so quickly turned into an object of aggression for these people's own transgression was saddening. But his thoughts of empathy soon changed to one of caution as he felt his senses tingle.

The old monk's hairless skin felt prickly, and he detected the faintest tingle of metallic buzzing, dance over his tongue. There was a presence in the air, malevolent and cunning, and it was stirring the crowd.

Pretoc looked over to his brothers, and was pleased to see recognition in their eyes. They too had felt something, but were unable detect its source. The presence they sensed was dark and sinister. Never before had they felt such a thing and became instantly suspicious. Their concerns were short lived as more guards appeared and began hauling them to their feet. They shoved the monks closer to the gallows and into the confines of thick rope nooses.

Suddenly one of the monk's heads snapped back, just after he was bound, and his gag fell from his face. The Trian immediately started yelling at the crowd, cursing them in his native language, which drew further cries of disgust from their hate filled mouths. But to Pretoc, his voice seemed hollow, and empty. The monk then changed his speech to the common tongue and cursed the Emperor further, condemning his son to death at the hands of Slarr. The statement riled Lucius and stunned the other monks.

Atheily you fool, what madness drives thee? hissed Pretoc in the depths of the speaker's mind. But the garrulous monk didn't waver, and continued to hurl abuse defiantly.

The other monk tried to reason with his friend through telepathy, but could not deter him. Both Trian's looked at each other in confusion, unable to explain what was happening.

Pretoc then remembered the oppressive presence he had felt just moments before. Quickly, he reached out with his own senses to touch that of his friend and was shocked to discover the monk's mind was smothered under a veil of darkness. The old Trian immediately focused his mind, then sent a wave of golden energy crashing into the darkness. The rite of cleansing smashed into the dark presence and dispelled the thing instantly. No sooner had it happened, the hateful monk's head fell limp onto his chest, and he began to groan. Pretoc then used his powers to gently stir his companion's conscious back into reality.

Atheily, what in Slarr's name just happened? he asked as the monk slowly came too. His reply echoed faintly inside Pretoc's mind.

Something is here. he said wearily.

The two monks exchanged another worried look then began searching the crowd, Pretoc knew he didn't have long. Time was desperately short.

_We must warn them!_ he thought and began searching frantically for someone to contact.

But as luck would have it, help came to him.

*****

The continued surge of rising emotions oozing from the crowd began to effect Inspector Baxi's mind greatly. Usually this amount of energy would be painful to a Medion. But instead of suffering, he found nothing but pleasure.

Baxi smiled broadly as a warm feeling buzzed around his skull. The growing sensation pleased him no end, and encouraged the Inspector to chant proudly for his country. He watched the Trian monks' display with eager anticipation, and felt bitter resentment towards those hated creatures. Soon, the wretches would be on their way to the Dark Uncle, and judged for their sins.

Without thinking, he cast his mind out to read the cretin's feelings, and was duly rewarded with a sublime sense of fear, issuing forth from the trio.

Good. Let them know fear, just as that little boy does!

He cast his eyes back to the Emperor and was pleased to hear Cowldonia would meet such action with undeterred force.

'Send them now to Dreaco. And by his eternal judgement, may they forever burn in the deepest pits of Atholly.' the Emperor bellowed to the roaring crowd.

Baxi also took up the cry and waited for the monks to swing with bated breath. Any moment now, and the dogs would pay for their crimes. He could feel the crowd's desire for blood, and let those intense feelings wash over him with welcomed joy. It was glorious. Soon justice would be served, and the land would rejoice.

Just as the excitement was at its peak, a searing pain erupted inside the Inspector's head, freezing him to the spot. Worse than a thousand a bee stings, the intense burst threatened to overwhelm him completely, and made him stumble into one of his guards. The ogre merely stared in confusion for a moment and then smiled.

Baxi gripped his throbbing head and panted hard, trying to work out what had just happened. A new pain had appeared within his head, brought on from the crowd's heightened feelings. He fumbled for the bottle of _Fogberry_ juice and quickly took a large swig, balking at the liquid's bitter taste. The effect was instant and reduced the searing feeling to a more tolerable level. Baxi sighed deeply and rubbed a hand down his damp face, relieved it was all over.

He looked back to the gallows and found the eyes of the lead monk staring back at him with chilling intensity. He cursed himself the fool. His lack of care caused the Trian to home in on his position when he reached out with mind, giving the monk a chance to strike. But as their eyes locked, the monk shook his hairless head back and forth, and nodded towards the crowd.

Beware, son of Tumarr. Something lurks unseen...

Baxi's eyes went wide as he listened to the words echoing throughout his mind. He knew the Trians had the gift of telepathy but had never experienced it firsthand. To have another being's voice echo loudly throughout his skull was a strange and disorienting sensation, to say the least, but he kept himself focused. It wasn't long before he realized the monk's intent and surveyed the crowd with mounting horror.

Baxi cursed himself a second time for his blindness and not seeing it sooner. The Trian was right. Something _was_ there.

He quickly took another sip of the foul liquor, then reached out again with his mind, turning his senses towards the crowd. Immediately he was set upon by a fell presence that was smothering everything in a vast blanket of darkness. But was shocked most of all to see it lie heaviest on the Emperor.

Baxi withdrew his mind then began reciting the _litany of purging_. The rite would protect him from the smoldering darkness that threatened to swamp his conscious again. The sacred words of his order steeled his resolve and gave strength enough to pierce through the cloud.

The Inspector cast his mind out once more and rose through the darkness. At first, he was taken back by the scale as he looked down onto its reach but managed to remain calm. Such power, such control! The will alone to cast such a thing was staggering. As his mind floated harmlessly above the presence, he realized its purpose was to goad and encourage those caught under its seductive net, by heightening their emotions. But why? What purpose did it serve to whip everybody into a frenzy? He could not understand nor stop to ponder. The thing must be ended.

Baxi knew his own power as a _Medion_ was severely limited in this situation, but it could still be used to locate the caster's source. He tried to reach out over the crowd, but the people's bloodlust was too great, and made it difficult for him to concentrate.

The Great Bell in Turrim tower sounded once more, signalling the hangman to get ready. The resounding chime cut through the roaring crowd stunning them into silence. They settled quickly in anticipation of what was to come and Baxi used this opportunity to add speed to his search. This time he was successful and reached far over the crowd, desperately trying to locate the now retreating spell to its source. There, he saw it, over by the....

The first bell rang out. The hangman pulled a long wooden lever and the trap beneath the first monk's feet fell.

The crowd roared with glee and Baxi was brought screaming back into reality as his conscious was totally overpowered by the immense rush of emotions.

He collapsed in a heap at the feet of his ogre guards, landing hard onto the ground. The ogres were too taken by the moment to notice him fall, and roared loudly as the first monk dangled limply in the air. Another clang sounded, and with it, a second monk fell to his death.

*****

Pretoc tore his gaze away from his dangling brothers and looked frantically around. He could see the Inspector struggling to stand and noticed a stream of blood pouring from his nose. A Cowldonian's mind was so brittle, it's a wonder they had Medions at all! Still, he willed him to hurry, knowing he had to find the assailant before he left.

His feline eyes looked up towards the shadows of a building, sitting on the opposite side of the square. The corrupting presence seemed to flow strongest of all from this spot. That is when he saw it.

Up in the darkened recesses of a balcony, a ghostlike shadow of a figure floated calmly in the air with arms outstretched. It was the source of the projection and was controlling the crowd in an effortless display of power.

It was...

The brass hammer swung back for a final time, then crashed into the bell. And with it, Pretoc, Warden of Kitos, died to the roaring sounds of screaming voices filling his large ears.
D.R. Hurley

Thirteen

The twin moons of planet Kargos nestled high amongst the night-time sky, wreathing the land in a chilling silver glow. The Fidelis chugged steadily along the Northern Hammiyan River at a comfortable pace and was on course to make port the next morning.

So far, the voyage had been pleasant, and blessed with calm waters, as the vessel continued to make its way north.

Leos stared blankly into the night as he leaned against the ship's railings, much as he had done the past hour since there was little else to do aboard, and found his thoughts returning to recent events. His confinement, the accusation of treason, his escape from prison, and that pale monster. The very thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. If only he could remember something about himself, something that might reveal his place in all this madness. He wanted to know so desperately who he was.

A brief spell of nausea struck him in that moment. Maybe it as the voyage? He felt dizzy, and shuddered as a sharp pain stung his mind. Leos gasped as a blurred mass of images erupted within his head...

He was in a room, surrounded by people taking notes on parchment, and studying him carefully. An injured Trian lay at his feet, writhing in a pool of its own blood. Its left arm missing, and the scent of burnt flesh weighed heavily the air. Leos looked down to see a searing ball of crimson energy, spinning in his hand, and screamed...

His mind came back to the ship, and the lapping waters of the enormous river. A chill breeze rustled his knotted hair as his senses recovered.

Another memory? Or a vision of things to come? He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. He was becoming frightened of all these outbursts.

The man instinctively rubbed a hand over his forearm, and looked down. The once purple marks had all but disappeared, leaving only a trace of a bruise, if one looked close enough. But his mind was still empty. Why can't he know more?

A growing concern edged into his conscious that couldn't be ignored. Perhaps his memories would never fully return, and he would remain a slave to these random images. Whatever they were.

'Feeling cold?' a young voice said from behind. Leos didn't turn to look at the Hibernian as she approached. The air had indeed grown cooler as they'd sailed north, but he wasn't troubled by it.

'No. I was just daydreaming, that's all.'

Lyanna didn't seem convinced by his answer.

'You sure? I thought I'd heard a gasp.'

'I said I'm fine.' he replied sternly, but then quickly apologised for his tone. It wasn't her fault he was confused.

'Well that's good,' she said with a smirk, 'because once we reach the Northern Realm it's going to get an awful lot colder. They don't call it the land of winter for nothing!' The man's face remained unchanged. He kept his gaze fixed onto the water, seemingly uncaring for the remark.

'You know, you don't have to be afraid. I have faith your memories will return. You'll find yourself again, I'm sure of it.' Leos stiffened and turned to face her.

'I'm not afraid,' he growled, 'I'm just tired of not knowing who I...' he paused mid-sentence as a thought struck him.

'How did you know that?'

'Know what? replied Lyanna casually, twirling a strand of crimson hair around her finger.

'My thoughts. You keep saying them. It's like your reading my mind or something.'

'What in Tumarr's name are you talking about?'

'You did it at Pieta's house the other day, and in the tavern. Don't pretend you don't know!'

Lyanna didn't seem to know what he meant, and stared at him for a while with a confused look on her face. It took a good while before her face changed, as she began to understand.

'Oh that,' she said dismissively with a wave of her hand, 'that's nothing to worry about. It's just because I'm a Medion. I don't even know I'm doing it most of the time.'

'A what?'

'You know, a Medion. Someone who can sense the emotions of others. There are many like me. It's not that uncommon.'

'You can read minds!' gasped Leos, suddenly feeling quite exposed. He instinctively pressed his hands to his head and backed away, which made the girl laugh.

'Of course not you fool, it's nothing like that. I can't actually tell what someone's thinking. But I can sense how they feel at that moment, which kind of steers you in the right direction to assume-'

'What am I thinking now?' he asked quickly, still clasping his head. The girl sighed and shook her head.

'Well, obviously your feeling scared and, distrusting of me? Oh really, thanks for that Leos. After all we've been through as well!' she huffed.

Lyanna stomped over to the railings, muttering something he didn't understand. Then scolded him for looking so ridiculous; highlighting the fact of covering one's head with his hands would not block out a Medion, no matter how much she would have liked it to at this particular moment.

Leos slowly lowered his arms and shook his head in disbelief, wondering what kind of world he had woken up in.

'That crack pot Inspector said something like that too. Thought I might be one of those, Medions, but I didn't know what he meant. Guess now I do.' he replied.

'Yes, the Cowldonians can do it also. Though they are far fewer in number, and nowhere near as talented. Even the best of them are paltry compared to ours. Most end up succumbing to madness from the constant exposure of energy groups of people emit. They eventually become reclusive, almost fearful of society, barely able to cope with the pain any longer.' she said.

'You are not troubled by it?'

'No. A Cowldonian's mind is delicate, fragile even. Most other races of the world are far more tempered, except from the Trians of course. They don't have Medions.'

'And who were they again, exactly?' The girl rolled her eyes.

'The race of rat men, who dwell far to the east. Slarr's children?'

'Slarr?'

'Their treacherous deity. Surely, you remember that tale by now?' The man's blank expression was enough of an answer. Lyanna tutted before speaking.

'He's the one who caused the Tumarr family to break apart and leave this world. Said to have been one of their kin, until mighty Belthor transformed his body to resemble the appearance of his twisted heart for his crimes. It's why the Trians have the power of telepathy, amongst other things. But that doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure you're not a Medion, I've not seen any reason why that person might think that?'

'Can old Pieta do it?' asked Leos cautiously, changing the subject from himself. Lyanna shrugged.

'Probably. I don't really know, never thought to ask him.'

'Aren't you and him close?' Lyanna smiled and nodded in response.

'You could say that.' she said, as little grin spread over her elf like face. Leos turned to look at her. The moons' silvery light made her emerald eyes sparkle.

'Tell me again why you're doing this for me?' he asked suddenly.

'Doing what?'

'This. Helping me escape from the country. What exactly are you getting out of it?' The girl looked confused.

'I guess, I'm just a nice person.'

'I'm serious Lyanna. That's not enough; I need more than that. You could get into serious trouble if we're caught.' She took a moment to think.

'I needed the push to go home, and used you to fuel it.' Leos frowned.

'That's it? That's all it was? To go home. I don't believe you. There must be more to it than that. Come on, why did you need me? Couldn't you have gone on your own?'

'I was too afraid.'

'Afraid of what?' he pressed.

Lyanna paused for a few moments before answering, struggling to find the right words. The colour of her blue skin paled slightly as she recalled a distant memory from her past.

'Something terrible happened, a long time ago. I had to escape.'

'What, like a prisoner? Were you in jail back home also?'

'No, no. Nothing like that, don't be stupid. As if I'm a criminal. I just needed to get away.'

'Does Pieta know about it? Is that what he meant by honouring your agreement.' Lyanna looked away, unable to meet his eye.

'It's complicated. I don't want to talk about it now.' she replied, walking away. The sound of her boots clumping on the wooden deck filled the night air. Leos grunted, then spoke again.

'You know, the old man told me a funny thing before leaving this morning. Said that your people needed you. What did he mean?' Lyanna froze.

'It's nothing I'm sure. He's always coming out with silly little things like that. I wouldn't worry about it.' she said dismissively.

She walked over to the ship's railings and pressed her head between the metal bars, staring blankly at the distant riverbank.

'Doesn't seem like nothing. Care to talk about it? Lyanna didn't respond.

For a while the pair remained silent, watching nothing but the water. The sound of churning wake and the occasional creak of twisting wood broke the uncomfortable silence. It was some time before Leos spoke again.

'Mind reader, huh. Whatever next!' he said quietly, but Lyanna didn't answer. Instead, her eyes stayed fixed on the distant horizon, and a look of concern spread over her youthful face.

'What is it?' asked Leos, trying to follow her gaze across the vast river.

'I thought I saw something.'

'Like what, another boat?' he replied, still scanning the darkness.

'I know what a boat looks like. This was...' she left before finishing, and quickly headed over to the ship's bow, with Leos following closely behind.

Some of the crew were out playing cards on the deck as the girl raced over and didn't take much notice as she climbed the railings. The wind was stronger here and blew her massive ponytail, wildly about.

'Over there, see!' she cried to Leos, pointing ahead. But her eyes were far keener than his and he failed to see anything.

Several crew members looked up at the commotion and came over to see what the fuss was. One man bore a lantern, and raised it high. The sailor gasped in shock as he saw the familiar silhouette of a large creature, ghosting the horizon.

'Haymia's blood! All hands, all hands to arms, we're under attack!' he yelled frantically. One of the crew ran over to the squat wheelhouse at the boat's midsection and rang the brass bell hanging outside. The ship came alive as a swarm of stern-faced men flooded onto the deck, armed with swords and spears.

A loud, gruff voice carried far over the commotion, demanding attention.

'What in all the seas is going on here? Someone report, now!' bellowed Captain Ectar to his men. A stocky sailor with a slick beard came to answer.

'Sea Hydra, coming in off the port side, Captain.'

'What? Impossible! We're far too south for those beasties to appear.' cried Ectar, running over to the ships bow. The Captain stared dubiously into the night for any sign of the dreaded monster, but saw nothing.

Suddenly there was a huge splash, followed by a bone-chilling roar as a horrible creature with five snarling heads emerged off the port side. Leos froze as the crew rushed forward to defend the ship, and stood in awe of its terrifying presence.

The monster's fat body lay half submerged in the dark water, and was adorned with dozens of thick black scales, strong as the toughest armour. Its snapping heads lunged back and forth on lengthy necks as it went for the crew.

One head roared and smashed its bulk into the side of the ship, causing the men to stumble. A sailor fell and was nearly bitten in half as the Hydra clamped its needle-like jaws around his torso. The man's high-pitched scream sent chills down Leos's back as he was picked up off the deck and shaken wildly. A hideous snap indicated his back was broken. The monster hurled the limp body out into the night before attacking again.

Men tried in vain to stab the creature with poles, but its hide was too thick to penetrate. More screams filled the air as another man was taken. A set of sharp fangs clasped tightly around the doomed sailor's head as he was hauled into the air. The crew pushed forward, knowing the only way to drive it off was to strike at the beast's soft neck tissue. But that meant getting dangerously close.

The situation became worse as the boat jerked again, and the men faltered. More roars erupted from the starboard side as a new shadow fell onto the deck. The sailors cried in fear as a second Hydra appeared and started to attack, its multiple heads lunging wildly as it snapped at the crew. The wooden deck became slick with blood as more men perished.

'We are lost!' yelled someone as the crew desperately fought for their lives.

Captain Ectar stood defiant at the front of his men in an impressive show of bravery. He thrust his blade deep into the jaw of one of the hydra's heads as it came within range, killing it instantly. The sea creature wailed horribly from its remaining mouths and set upon him as one, biting and screeching in a frenzied rampage. One slammed into the man's chest, knocking him over. As the Captain fell, a second head dived down to the deck and sunk its blood-soaked teeth into his thigh.

Ectar screamed in agony as the beast lifted him into the air. But the thing jerked back and shrieked before the final blow came, releasing its prey. The Captain crashed onto the deck and rolled away, catching a glimpse of his saviour as he scurried to safety. He saw Leos standing before the monster with a dripping sword in hand, his young face twisted in rage. A deep gash ran across one of the Hydra's necks. It hung motionless in the air for a few moments before falling to the deck, nearly crushing a man.

The remaining three heads turned their attention to face this new threat. Leos jumped back and hacked again as they lashed forward, but his blade skimmed off the creature's scaly hide, causing no harm. Another head lunged for him, which he managed to dodge, but was knocked to the floor by another. His sword skittered away across the blood smeared floor, far from his reach. Leos scrambled backwards as the snapping jaw of the third head closed in, its rancid breath washed over him as it came.

Just as he thought his time was up, the ship became engulfed by a surge of freezing air that blasted over the deck. Leos watched his breath turned to fog as the air temperature dropped in a matter of seconds. A searing bolt of crackling energy smashed into the monster's head, instantly freezing it. The ice block plummeted to the deck and shattered, covering the man with a plethora of frozen shards.

Leos looked back to see a swirling mass of frosted air circling around Lyanna. The girl's arms extended towards the beast, bathed in a blue aura as she summoned the Eyther. The twin moons' presence empowered her skill to new heights. She syphoned large amounts of energy into her body with a devious grin on her face.

The monster lunged for the girl, but she jumped back easily, releasing a blast of hastily cast power, which unfortunately missed. She tried to press the attack but lost her footing as the ship rocked again. The second monster had thrown its bulbous mass into the ship to dislodge the crew, sending many over the side.

Lyanna gasped as she fell flat onto the deck, the power faded from her hands, but she recovered in time to see many rows of pointed teeth bear down on her in hungry anticipation. Foul breath assaulted her nostrils as the Hydra closed in for the kill.

Leos watched the scene with mounting horror. For him, time appeared frozen. His panic-stricken mind became filled with a score of eerie voices, the same ones from when he fled from the prison. They wailed to him as one, demanding he act. The sight of his friend being attacked triggered something wild inside him and he lost control. In the next moment, he was charging across the deck with a wordless roar.

Leos leapt high into the air and caught the beast's head in his arms at the last moment. The monster recoiled, trying to shake him free, but he managed to wrap his legs around its scaly neck and held fast. A raging fire took hold of his soul and brought forth immense power. Its overwhelming force surged furiously through his veins. He gripped the beast's head tightly between his hands and pressed with all his might.

The Hydra screeched hideously as the man's hands erupted with fire. Crimson light spilled into the night as Leos burnt the creature's flesh. The summoned power grew to a ferocious level before discharging through his fingers.

Leos roared with hate as the creature's head exploded in a grisly mass of gore and filth, that sprayed across the deck. The explosive force threw the man into the night, where he plunged into the ice-cold water.

A terrible screech ripped through the air as the remaining heads cried in unison. The beast retreated into the safety of the river and swam away, dragging its headless necks as it fled.

The crew cheered in triumph and pressed the attack, intent on killing the beast, but their spears were soon out of throwing range and it escaped.

Once it was gone, the men went to aid their comrades and deal with the remaining hydra. Some broke off to help the injured Captain, but the old dog shouted angrily for them to help the others confront the remaining monster.

Lyanna got back on her feet, and leaned over the rails, searching for the man who'd just saved her life. Her emerald eyes scanned desperately across the dark waters in search of Leos, but she couldn't see him. Does he know how to swim?

The ship lurched for a final time as the last hydra shifted its massive bulk back into the water, finally driven away, and almost sent the girl toppling over the side as it disappeared into the gloomy night.

Lyanna cursed, then created a small ball of light between her hands once she was steady, throwing it far into the darkness. The glowing sphere bobbed gently up and down as it cast a silver light across the water, but there was still no sign of him. She cried out his name, but there was no reply.

Leaning further, she looked down the full length of the hull, in case they'd drifted past him, and caught sight of something at the ship's stern. It was figure, pale a ghostly, standing perfectly balanced on top of the railings. She leapt down and headed over, thinking it might be Leos, but when she got close there was nothing to be found. She stared confusedly over the sides, but the figure had vanished. Had she imagined it?

The wet slap of falling body crashing to the deck brought her attention back towards the bow. Leos's limp form lay sprawled in a heap, drawing a gasp from the girl as she ran towards him. Her boots clunked heavily on the blood streaked deck.

Lyanna quickly rolled him onto his back and checked his breathing. The man's skin was deathly cold, and he groaned drearily, but at least he was alive. He managed only the girl's name before slipping back into unconsciousness.

D.R. Hurley

Fourteen

Several days had passed since the public execution of the Trian monks. Inspector Baxi spent the bulk of that time hiding from the world, amidst the shadowy confines of his district office.

The man lost countless hours brooding over recent events, particularly of those fleeting moments after the monk's death, although memories of that day were surprisingly sketchy. However, the little he did retain was solely dominated by one thing alone. The phantom creature.

Baxi re-lived the moment he'd first seen the mysterious being, over and over. The recurring scene played constantly throughout his mind in an endless spiral of uncertainty.

He remembered standing before the roaring crowd on unsteady legs, his vision blurred. A line of crimson marked his face from his bleeding nose and beads of cold sweat trickled slowly down his bald head as his mind reconnected with his body.

The surge of energy generated as the crowd erupted into a bout of raucous cheers, severed the delicate link Baxi had maintained with his floating conscious. He screamed in pain as the resulting force mercilessly wrenched his mind back into his body, leaving him a collapsed mass on the ground. This went unnoticed to those around him, and many painful moments passed before he stirred. He had to finish the entire bottle of Fogberry juice just to dull the searing pain in his head, caused by the public's heightened emotions.

After which, Baxi turned his throbbing head and saw the Trian prisoners dangle motionless in the air. Their ribbed tails hung limply between clawed feet, several inches from the ground. A clear picture indeed, forever burned into Baxi's retinas. Justice had been served.

The next flash of memory showed him staggering amongst the crowd, fighting desperately to get through the mass of pressing bodies, before climbing a statue in the centre of town square. Height was all that mattered at that moment. He had to get above the people so he could see it again before it left. He was still desperately weak from the last ordeal, so could not use his powers. Instead, Baxi was forced to rely on his natural vision.

And then he came to it. The last piece of his disturbing memory. Whilst clinging to the smooth surface of the polished stone, he saw the beast. The Inspector stared disbelieving at the lone creature, lurking in the darkened recesses of a distant balcony. He remembered how the thing looked back at him with its black, soulless eyes, connecting to his presence. His heart froze as their eyes met.

Little else remained of that day, nor of those that followed. He knew the citywide search for the traitor Leos continued, despite his supervision, and was becoming a serious drain on Enforcer resources. But realistically speaking, the search was all in vain, save for appeasing the people's thirst for action. Baxi suspected by now the rogue would be on the outer fringes of the Empire, if not into neighbouring territory. It was a slim chance indeed if he had chosen to hide amongst the city's slums, but it was feasible. He could be holed up with his old gang, The Black Hand, if his memories returned at least, but then again, that seemed all too dangerous for a man wanted for treason.

No, the most logical chance for survival would be to flee the Empire with all haste. That's what Baxi would do if he was in that situation. And precisely the reason why he'd taken the precautionary measure of dispatching ravens to every corner of Cowldonia, bearing word of the traitor's escape, which should have been received by now. It wouldn't be long before they had him, he was confident about that. To him, Leos was nothing but a loose end, and such things often have a habit of being righted. One way or another.

Despite this, minor setback, something else still bothered him. A little niggle at the back of his mind. A gut feeling of doubt that had plagued the Inspector for some time. Strong enough to keep him awake at night. To the point where he had abandoned the sanctuary of his bed and took to wandering alone out in this filth infested part of town, harbouring nothing but low lives and thieves. Often, he'd tried to ignore the feeling, but it weighed too heavily on him. Something was amiss with this case, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Baxi looked up at the stars; the hour was late. He didn't exactly know how late it was, but certainly closer to morning than he would have liked. He continued to walk quietly along the cobblestone streets in his semi trance-like state and remembered the dream which drove him from his bed. He his heart beat wildly against his chest as he re-lived the moment once more...

He saw himself lying on the floor, drenched in a pool of his own blood. A swirling mass of papers spiralled furiously around him as the chilling form of the wraith-creature loomed over him, with its lifeless eyes...

Baxi woke, his sheets slick with cold sweat. What was it about that creature that riled him so much? Where did it come from? He pondered all of this as he continued to walk. The night air was cold. He drew his collar tighter around his neck. Baxi wondered why the beast would stir up the crowd to the point of rioting, or even how it was possible. To think, a lone being could possess such power was frightening to comprehend.

He continued to walk briskly, ignoring the sluggish pull of fatigue that plagued his muscles with every step. Ultimately, he did come to a stop. Sleep it seemed had finally caught up with him. He took a moment to rub his tired eyes with the palms of his hands and let out a long, slow breath.

'What are you doing here Rymond?' he said quietly to himself, 'surely you have better things to be doing?'

The Inspector looked down at the rippling puddle in which his foot was placed and saw the shimmering reflection of the twin moons shine back. Baxi smiled, then brought his weary gaze up to look upon the two orbs nestled tightly within the blackened sky. The Maidens' glow cast a silvery light from their crescent faces. He bowed respectfully towards them in the customary way. Left hand to head, heart, then extend.

Bless the life you gave to us.

'My ladies.' he said quietly before kissing the OWL symbol carved into his golden signet ring.

The Inspector looked around. The streets of the capital were quiet tonight, which suited him fine. It was better that way. He didn't want to be seen lurking around this part of town, a high ranking official out here alone. Not that he was afraid of such things. Baxi knew he could take care of himself, even without his powers. He just didn't want the hassle of conflict. Besides, he preferred his own company. To be alone was one of the few joys left to him. The rare moments of free time he had were spent seeking out more peaceful and secluded settings, to rid himself of the constant pains in his head. He chuckled at the thought; a servant of the people, who despised the company of others. It was an irony that often amused him.

He walked down yet another rundown street, lined with terraced houses, glancing at the street name as he passed, West Barn Road. The gothic architecture of this area was so typical of Cowldonia design and looked particularly gloomy and menacing at night. It could even be described as chilling by those of a more... Wait!

Baxi stopped mid stride, frozen as a sudden realisation swept over him. It was the creature, the one from the execution, he finally remembered. It was the same thing he saw in the mind of that villain Leos at the interrogation. Yes, that was it. That's what had been bothering him these past days, he knew somehow it had seemed familiar. The creature was known to Leos. But so what if it had? Could it mean the creature was in league with the traitor and the monks? Clearly there must be some kind of link between them, but what?

He considered the question for a while, pacing back and forth, and brought his mind back to execution. On the day of the hanging, it was the Trian monks who first alerted him to the creature. So why would they choose to spend their last few moments of their existence informing him if they were truly collaborating? It was a question he couldn't answer.

Another flash of memory from the interrogation slipped into his mind. It was the image he saw in the traitor's mind before the demon appeared.

An arched door with the words Mostin written above.

He remembered Leos's case file, then quickly strode back to the sign he'd just passed and read it again.

West Barn Road. It was the same as in the report, which meant the orphanage must also be here. What fate should lead him here on this night! There might be some clue to be found about the traitor Leos after all. Maybe something to indicate where he could be now. Or maybe, he had returned to hide, thinking nobody would come looking here. Unfeasible, illogical, but quite possible he surmised.

The Inspector turned his gaze up to the sky once more.

'Blessed be your guidance sisters.' he said with a smile, then started walking down the cobbled street, in search of anything resembling the distant fragments he'd seen in Leos's mind.

It didn't take him long. A little further down he spied a building squashed between the terraced rows, worn and dishevelled. Like most of the buildings around here, this one had clearly seen better days. A large wooden sign hung over the arched wooden door, engraved with the words, Madam Mostin's Orphanage.

Dried leaves tumbled wildly around, swept up as a gust of wind lifted them high into the air, forming a swirling mass around the entrance. Baxi approached slowly. He climbed the stone steps and felt his senses stir as unseen eyes fell upon his back.

He spun around quickly, scanning the area. But saw nothing. The grime ridden streets were empty. Most of the neighbouring properties' windows were all boarded up. Baxi cursed himself silently for being so foolish. He should have known better then to let his mind get to him.

Slowly he turned, and set his eyes upon the heavy wooden door before him. A black metal ring hung upon its centre, which clunked deeply when knocked. Nothing stirred for a time, the place seemed empty. He went for the knocker again but stopped as he heard the distinctive sound of shuffling feet coming from inside.

The Inspector took a few steps back then waited patiently for the door to open. After a series of unfastening locks, the door swung inward with a slow creak, revealing the partial outline of a shadowy figure.

'Yes?' a weak voice said from inside, while raising a lantern. The warm glow of candlelight spilled into the night, illuminating the Inspector.

'Madam Mostin?' asked Baxi softly.

'Who is it, what do you want?'

The figure peered out a little further, the lantern's glow now revealed its bearer. An old woman, dressed in worn clothes. She looked at Baxi cautiously with her sunken grey eyes.

'My name is Rymund, Madam. Rymund Baxi. Jyonti District Inspector. I've come in search of information about one of your children. I appreciate how late the hour is.' He showed the women his identity papers as proof.

'My children?' the voice replied curiously, 'there have been no children here for quite some time, Inspector. This place, is only a shadow of what it once was.'

Baxi stepped a little closer, taking care not to spook the old lady, whose thick accent implied she was not originally of Cowldonia, most likely the western provinces' of Tilliya.

'Madam I understand. I seek only knowledge. If you could please help me, I would be most grateful.'

A long silence ensued while she thought. The old woman's grey eyes bore deep into his and Baxi could see the mind behind them was still sharp.

'You are alone Inspector?' she said finally.

'Yes, Madam. I prefer to conduct my investigations that way. Helps keep me focused. Less susceptible from distraction.'

'We all need a little help from time to time Inspector.' she said dryly. Baxi smiled.

'Very well, you may enter.'

Baxi relayed his gratitude with a nod and stepped inside, once the door drew open. He stepped into a dimly lit hall that was sparsely furnished and waited patiently as the old woman locked the door, ensuring he remained a respectable distance away. Afterwards she set the lantern down onto a small table next to the door then turned to face him.

'Before we begin, Madam, I must ask. Is there anybody else here in the property with you at this time?' The old woman straightened her dress then answered.

'No, Inspector, there's not. I am alone.'

Baxi stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge her reply. He instinctively reached out with his senses and read her current emotions. The old woman was cautious and a little afraid, but he detected no deceit in her whatsoever. He nodded, accepting her answer as truthful and thanked her for her honesty. Obviously, her concerns were natural, considering she had just let a complete stranger into her house.

'So, there must be some importance to your task for it to be conducted at this hour, and to by an individual of your rank.' she said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence.

'Yes, my case is quite sensitive to the Empire. Again, I must apologise for the inconvenience. Sometimes the leads we get must be acted upon immediately, otherwise they become useless.'

'Well, you need not concern, I was already awake. I like to conduct my daily prayers before daybreak.'

'You are a sister of the White Order?'

'Why yes, Inspector, I am. How did you know?'

'I noticed the OWL symbol on the broach you wear. I too am a servant of the White Lady.' announced Baxi, raising his hand to present the golden signet ring on his index finger. A thin smile broke onto the woman's face.

'What is it you wish to know?' she asked politely.

'I need to see records of all the children you've housed over the last twenty summers.'

'Why? she asked curiously, 'is one of them in trouble?'

'You could say that, madam. You've heard about Prince Alexander's abduction yes?'

'Of course. I don't think there's a soul alive who hasn't.'

'I believe the main suspect was raised here. It's possible he may have returned but after talking with you it's clear that isn't the case.'

'So what do you want, Inspector?'

'I was hoping to find a little more information about him. It may help discern his current location.'

'I've run this orphanage for the last forty years, Inspector. And in all that time I've saved hundreds of babies that were left helpless on my porch. What makes you think that I could help you find one child? What information do you hope to attain?'

Baxi fixed the lady with a hard stare.

'All information is vital, no matter how trivial. The barest scrap of knowledge will always help to complete the puzzle.' The old woman began to nod slowly as if satisfied with his answer.

'Very well. In that case, I guess you'd better follow me.' she said before picking up the lantern again.

'This way please.'

She led the Inspector along the main hall and deeper into the building. Passing many doors along the way. Clearly this orphanage was a great deal bigger than first thought, stretching back a good distance behind its narrow frontage.

They stopped before a red door, studded with iron bolts. The woman produced a set of keys from beneath her robes and began to sift through. Baxi enjoyed the distinct sound of the latch releasing as the door became unlocked. To him, it sounded like progress.

He watched patiently as the lady pulled the door open. She invited him in with an outstretched hand, then followed close behind, raising the lantern high.

Warm light spilled into the small room, which was filled with dozens of thick books and documents. Every wall was lined with shelves except for one corner, which was home to a wooden desk and chair.

'I suggest you start here.' she said, whilst setting the lantern down on a side table next to the door. Madam Mostin then carefully removed the candle from inside, so to light the others placed around the room. Baxi continued to wait patiently, until she had finished.

'It's cold in here. Would you like me to light the fire?' the old woman asked.

'No, thank you,' replied Baxi whilst removing his long coat, 'I favour the cooler air. Helps focus the mind.' He placed the garment neatly over a chair and rolled up his sleeves.

'Some coffee then perhaps?' Baxi smiled and gave a short bow.

'You are most kind, Madam.' The old woman left without another word, gently pulling the door too as she went.

Baxi turned his gaze upon the mountainous task laid out before him and clapped his hands together, rubbing them tightly.

'Time to go to work.'

*****

The next few hours passed slowly and with little reward. By the time Madam Mostin returned with a second pot of coffee, the bright glow of morning's light had crept silently into the small office, illuminating the gloomy space completely.

Inspector Baxi slumped wearily over the wooden desk, nestled in the room's corner. His blood shot eyes struggled to focus on yet another wad of old papers, which weighed heavily in his hand. The neatly scribed text shifted frequently into a mass of blurred words as he tried to read. Slowly, his body sank further into the firm wooden desk as sleep finally wrapped its inescapable fingers about him.

Madam Mostin walked briskly into the room, carrying the pot of spiced coffee. She set the steaming brew down, then turned to withdraw the curtains, wrenching the mattered fabric drapes open with a sharp pull. Metal rings screeched loudly across iron rails as the curtains were dragged open, flooding the once dull room in a brilliant light that made the Inspector's eyes squint, and forced him to shield them.

'I trust you have found what you were looking for, Inspector? Or should I consider charging you rent?'

The coffee's rich aroma wafted heavily in the air. Baxi sat up and eagerly poured himself a cup, drinking deeply. Then offered one to his host, who politely declined.

'Regretfully, no. I can find no record of the child I seek. I am confused, Madam. Tell me, if you please. Did you ever have a child run out on you?

Madam Mostin frowned at the directness of the question.

'No never. Why?'

'Well it's just that the man I'm after was reported to have fled from here, at the age of ten. But none of your records suggest there ever was such an occurrence.'

'Nor would they. I gave these children a proper home, Inspector. A chance of life. Abandoned by their mothers for whatever reason, I welcomed them in with loving arms. Taking them off the god forsaken streets and fed them. I cared for those children like they were my own, with the hope that one day some of them would have a chance at making something of themselves, despite being rejected by society.'

'But my report states this was untrue, one did escape.'

'Then your report is wrong, Inspector. No child ever left Mostin Hall. Unless of course it was in the arms of a fosterer.'

'And what of those that were taken unwillingly, Madam?' Baxi said whilst climbing out of the chair, his stiff body hindering the simple action,

'Like the ones stolen in the night, all those years ago.' He turned to face her, noting the sudden change of expression about her face, and the unconscious movement of her fingers.

'Those children have haunted my dreams ever since.' she said slowly.

The Inspector's senses stirred. He couldn't help noticing the wave of guilt, pouring out of the old woman as the past came back. Even after all this time those feelings still hurt. He didn't have to be a Medion to see it.

'It wasn't just this house. Many others were taken too. But the they didn't really care for the children. For them it was just a business. Nobody cared for the orphans like me, so they didn't report it.'

'But you did Madam.'

She looked at him solemnly and nodded, her eyes glistened with moisture. Madam Mostin removed a small book from beneath her robes, then handed it to him.

'I carry the burden of their loss every day. The names of those children will stay with me forever. I pray for them and hope they can forgive me for failing to protect them.'

Baxi opened the booklet and read its contents. His dark eyes grew large as he scanned the list of names, it was much longer then he'd thought.

'This cannot be!' he gasped.

'Like I said, Inspector. Nobody cares for orphan children. That's why the investigation failed.'

He looked again down the list, so many names. Much more than was reported as officially missing.

'But I was there, when it first happened. I was involved with the investigation. There weren't this many orphans taken.'

'This house has been struck with darkness more than once. After the first time, I lost faith with the authorities and decided not to report any more losses. A fact I'm still ashamed of.'

Baxi looked in the book once more and caught his breath. Amongst the list of forgotten names, one stood out most. His dark eyes widened as he recognised the text,

Leos.

D.R. Hurley

Fifteen

And so, a glimmer of his power has been revealed and dangerous he has become. The would-be king must learn to control these forces, lest risk his own destruction. As we watch quietly from afar, our hand will guide his path until the ascension. But first, he must know the truth, for his eyes are blinded by darkness.

A veil is hung, that now must be raised. To reveal the monster those Hwethgar made with hopes of taming, but none so could. Now watch oh child and you will see; the story of your past unfolds...

Leos woke with a cry, frightened back into the world by a nightmare that seemed all too real. His brown eyes darted frantically left and right as he failed to recognise his surroundings. His dark hair lay matted to his brow as beads of sweat rolled down his skin and his chest heaved back and forth, drawing great drafts of air into his lungs.

'It's alright Leos. Calm down.' Lyanna said gently, trying to soothe his troubled mind. She was standing quietly by his bedside, and tried to ease the man back into reality.

'You're safe now, don't worry. We're traveling aboard the Fidelis to Hibernia, remember?' she said calmly. Leos turned to her; a blank look of recognition etched on his rugged face. It was several long moments before he remembered his companion, calling her name joyfully.

The man tried to rise out of the narrow bunk, but gasped suddenly as a fresh wave of pain flooded throughout his body. Although, it was something he had grown accustomed to of late.

Leos wheezed as the intense burst froze him in place for a time, before slumping back onto the wooden bunk. He looked over and saw Lyanna now sitting on a nearby stool, a hand pressed onto her forehead. She was taking slow, measured breaths, as if to steady herself.

'Lyanna, are you alright. What is it?' he asked wearily, trying again to sit up, though much more gingerly this time. His body was stiff and ached terribly from the effort.

The girl's strained look fell the instant he spoke, and almost immediately she was once again her normal, chirpy self.

'Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I could sense you were in pain whilst out on the deck and came down to see you. The closer I got, the more intense the feelings became, until it was overpowering. At least, for a moment anyway.'

'You knew about me from up there?' he asked, clearly surprised.

'Of course I did. I'm a Medion!' she said, tapping a finger onto her temple. Leos replied with an amused grunt before slumping back down onto the bunk's hard mattress.

He lay still for a time staring at the long wooden planks that made up the ceiling before for speaking.

'I was dreaming,' he said slowly, still looking at the slats, 'at least, I think I was. It felt like I was trapped inside a nightmare, only it wasn't. It was real!'

Lyanna watched him curiously.

'You remembered something about your past?' she asked. Leos remained still as he looked into his mind.

'I'm not sure. It couldn't have been. It was too disturbing.'

'Tell me what happened.' she asked keenly, dragging the stool closer to his bunk. Leos took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

'I saw a courtyard of stone, wreathed in moss. It was...' he stopped again, struggling to make sense of what he had just seen.

'What?' the girl asked impatiently, leaning close. Leos continued, his dark eyes squinted slightly as he lost focus on the ships wooden ceiling, and tried to recall the moment once lost to him.

'No!' he hissed quietly 'No it can't be.' He turned his gaze upon Lyanna, his face was stricken with terror. The fear in his eyes was alarming, and her beating heart went out to him.

'It was the same place that Inspector showed me. The kidnapping, the Prince. I was there, Lyanna. I was there!'

He stopped as the memory returned. Wide eyed with fear, Leos began to tremble.

'It's ok. You can tell me,' she said soothingly, rising from the chair, 'It's probably just, your subconscious reliving that awful image the Inspector subjected you to, nothing more.'

'No, Lyanna, it wasn't. This time it was real. I remember the bodies, lots of bodies. Everywhere. Scattered like fallen leaves. They were all dead, every one of them. And I sat quietly amongst them, my hands coated in blood. The air was so dense and thick with the stench of death. I struggled to breath. I could see...' he paused, shaking his head.

'See what, Leos. What did you see?' she asked with baited-breath.

'I'm not sure what it was. I've never seen anything like it.'

Lyanna drew close and placed her small hand over his. Immediately she sensed a storm of confusion writhing within him. So strong was their connection that it made her fingers tingle. Her emerald eyes looked deep into his.

'You must think, Leos. This could be important.'

'I told you I don't know,' he said sharply, pulling away. The connection broken,

'I don't know what they were. They were like ghosts, or demons or something. One of them carried something in its bony arms, a child, I think. It took it away whilst the others stood watch over three hairless creatures, dressed in heavy robes. It looked almost like they were being controlled. They moved in unison, as if in a trance. One of the beast's cast its gaze upon me before it left. Those black soulless gems of eyes had no life in them, pierced into my very soul.'

'And then?'

'Nothing. The dream ends, and all became darkness. There is nothing more to tell.'

Lyanna became still and sat quietly whilst taking it all in. Her eyes glazed over as her thoughts drew inside, trying to make sense of his words.

'What does it mean?' He watched helplessly as the girl shook her head from side to side.

'I don't know. I need time to think.'

'I'm not a murderer!' he said quickly, but the girl looked at him wearily for the first time since their meeting.

'I'm not sure what you are.' she said.

Leos looked hurt from the remark, but ultimately felt the same.

'Tell me, do you remember the other night when we were attacked?

'The monster with all those heads?' he replied.

'That's right. The foul creature who tried to make a meal out of me. Nearly succeeded to, had you not intervened.' she said, lowering her head. Leos shivered as he remembered the encounter.

'How could I forget? I can still smell its foul breath upon me...'

'I saw something that night which I can't explain.' she blurted, before he could finish. Her tone became agitated.

'At the end, when we were looking for you in the water, there was, a creature. Floating at the back of the ship.'

'Floating in the water?

'No, floating in the air. Above the railings.'

'What kind of creature was it?' asked Leos.

'I'm not sure. It was there for a moment only and then gone. I've never seen anything like it. At first, I'd thought I'd dreamt it. But now, after what you've just said. I'm not so sure.'

Leos's face remained confused.

'What does this all mean?'

'I don't know. But that's not all, there's something else that's been bothering me. Something far more, concerning.'

'Go on.' he said wearily.

'You never told me you could use Kier!' she snapped.

Leos was startled by the outburst and stared back at her for a time, unable to reply.

'I'm not sure I follow?' he said honestly, but the girl was having none of it and pressed the matter further.

'Yes you do. I know you do! Don't try and lie to me. I saw what you did to that monster, everyone did. No son of Tumarr has even been able to wield that power. You shouldn't be able to. It's forbidden!'

'Lyanna slow down. I don't know what you mean.'

'You're lying.'

'I'm not I swear. Last thing I recall was hearing a strange voice in my head and then all of a sudden, I had no fear. I can't explain, it's like something stirred inside me, but now its dormant.' protested Leos. But the girl rose angrily, then walked towards the cabin door, shaking her head. She stopped before leaving and cocked her head back.

'What are you?' she asked quietly, but the man had no answers to give her. Instead, Leos just looked down to his shaking hands and shook his head.

'I don't know.' he replied softly.

Lyanna turned to face him and closed her eyes. The giant auburn ponytail dropped as she cocked her head, as if listening to some unknown voice. Several long moments passed before she opened them again. The air was tight with tension, they both said nothing.

Eventually, it was she who moved first. Lyanna slowly made her way back over to him.

'Forgive me. I didn't mean to overreact. I'm just a little frightened. A lot has happened recently.' she said quietly, with an uncomfortable look about her. Leos remained silent.

The girl shuffled awkwardly then tried to change the subject.

'The Fidelis made port an hour ago, and has already begun unloading its hold. We should get going. Do you need a hand getting ready?'

'No!' he said gently, 'I can manage.'

Lyanna nodded, then turned to leave. Once she was gone, he let out a long, slow breath and rubbed his face. His feet slowly made their way out of the bunk and onto the cool wooden floor. Gingerly, he rose to his feet, grumbling the whole time. His face twisted in pain.

Pray the day comes when I wake without pain! he thought grimly to himself.

Surprisingly, Lyanna popped her head back through the door, a ghost of a smile spread across her pixie-like face.

'There are some clothes in the locker over there. Be sure to wrap up warm. It may be a bit fresh outside!'

*****

He found her in the corridor a short while later, wearing a heavy fabric coat. She looked dressed for travel, and carried a small sack on her back and a long hiking rod in her hand. The coat looked old, but finely stitched, and was fastened shut with large silver buttons. It was a pastel shade of purple, trimmed with silver thread in typical Hibernian fashion. Nestled amongst the coat's thick collar was a rather fine-looking cream scarf, that concealed her neck and chin.

'Took you long enough!' she said bluntly as the man emerged.

Leos shrugged, ignoring the jibe. He walked awkwardly over to her; his leather boots clumped heavily on the wooden floor. He sported a similar travel pack which contained a few meagre supplies Captain Ectar had provided. A gesture of gratitude it seemed for the previous night's engagement.

'You'd better take this to cover your face. Just in case word has reached here of your escape.'

She handed him a dog-eared hat, which had a pair of googles stitched into it. The lenses tinted in deepest red. He took the garment without speaking.

'Look, about before, I'm sorry if I got angry. It's just-'

'I don't want to talk about it now,' snapped Leos, 'we're passed it. Just get me off this boat.' Lyanna smiled faintly, then beckoned him to go first.

A sharp blast of cold air sailed down the flight of stairs as Leos approached, so bitter his breath was taken away. The girl chuckled then reminded him that they were on the outer fringes of her land, and he'd best be prepared for it to get an awful lot colder.

Leos donned the hat which hung low over his face and checks. He fastened his coat's collar tightly around his neck to conceal his chin. Once ready, they went up onto the ship's deck.

He was greeted with a dazzling white light, as mighty Belthor's warm rays reflected off the snow-covered landscape, robbing him of sight. He pulled the hat's goggles over his eyes, but still found himself squinting, despite their protection. They made their way down the gangplank, moving past the crew unnoticed as workers busily unloaded the ship's cargo. Dozens of crates, nestled amongst nets of thickly woven hemp, were hauled aloft by cranes and winches, as the men unloaded the ship's hold. It was a swarm of activity. Hard and heavy work, but the crews knew their trade, and got to it with practised efficiency. They knew they had to work quickly if they wanted to make the next tide.

Captain Ectar directed his men, shouting orders to his crew and chastising the harbour workers for their apparent lack lustre attitude.

'If Jakkaro's breath changes and the winds pick up, I'll skin ya all alive, yer bloated wretches!' he bellowed angrily, shaking a fist in the air. The old man leaned heavily on a wooden stick to take the weight of his bandaged leg.

'Oi, you two! Just where d'you thinks you're scuttling of too? Think you can slip past old Ectar, did yer?' he growled as Leos and Lyanna approached.

'It's good to see your injury hasn't dampened your spirits, Captain.' said Lyanna smiling. Her response seemed to amuse the man as he chuckled gruffly to himself.

'Aye Missy. It'll take more than a scratch to put me down.' he said wryly before turning to Leos

'What in all the seas are you supposed to be? Some kind of travelling buffoon?' he said dryly, laughing at the man's almost total concealment.

Leos shrugged and fumbled for a response, feeling a little awkward.

'It's his first time in the Northern Realm. Go easy on him.' Lyanna said quickly, making the old Captain grin all the more.

'First time, huh. Ha! Sounds likely. You never did strike me as the travelling type.'

He continued to laugh, then clasped hold of the man's arm. His face stiffening to become more serious.

'Yer saved me ship lad, and for that you have my thanks. I don't know what you did back there. Ain't never seen the likes before neither. Not least from a Cowldonian. You must have had a Trian for a mother or something to do those kinds of things, Ha!' Ectar laughed hoarsely and slapped Leos across the man's padded back, holding his gaze for a moment, before continuing.

'Well, daylight's burning. I'll be seeing you two. I hope the luck of whichever Gods you pray to, holds true.' Ectar hobbled away, turning his attention back to the Fidilas.

*****

The pair left the dock and made their way into Ostium under Lyanna's direction. The girl picked her way easily through the busy streets and seemed totally at home. Her face was a mask of joy as she took them along the windy streets.

'By Tumarr, it feels so good to be back!' she said gleefully. Leos noted the slight tinge of blue in her complexion had deepened considerably, although it was still far lighter than the locals, it had definitely changed. He presumed it linked to the freezing climate but didn't bother to ask.

'Let's head to the Editorium. It's not far. I want to hear what's been happening.' she said excitedly. Leos protested, wanting to avoid the public, but she was not inclined to care. Rather than cause a scene, he decided to leave it alone and follow her without further objection. As they made their way through the cluttered streets, Leos became more intrigued by their captivating surroundings and felt his anxiety lessen.

The first thing he noticed was the abundance of colour amongst the snow-covered buildings. Shades of cyan, purple and teal coloured most of the buildings with strips of intricately woven patterns the colour of brass and gold adorned most window and door frames. The majority of buildings here were tall and narrow, some as high as five stories. Many were topped with bright terracotta tiles, but a few wore deeper browns and black clay. It was a far cry from the drab grey and sand coloured stones he saw in Cowldonia. The architecture here was much simpler and rustic. Thick beams of red wood supported porches and roofs. Many were etched with hand carved patterns and symbols, all picked out in gold.

Fires burned openly in the street, melting snow from the rooftops, and provided a spell of much needed heat. Everywhere he looked, people bartered and traded, as was typical with any major coastal settlement. Wooden stalls filled with beans, dried bread and all other sorts were set up all over. The lingering scent of spiced coffee filled the air, a smell which brought Leos back to old Pieta's house with every lungful he took. The land may have been bitterly cold, but there was plenty of warmth to be found.

The most striking thing Leos noticed was the huge difference in size between genders. Males were mostly large and bear like in appearance, with thick beards and lengthy hair. Whilst in stark comparison, the females were often much shorter and petite, and generally stern of face. They were all extremely youthful in appearance, and for once Lyanna's child-like guise didn't seem so out of place.

Then out of nowhere, a deep thunderous sound rumbled throughout the town, freezing Leos on the spot. Three times the sound roared, cutting through the air and quickly silenced the town's people. Lyanna's face lit up with excitement at the sound of the town's Magna Horn, and cast her eyes eagerly towards the horizon.

'Look!' she cried, pointing to the sky.

Leos turned but couldn't see much in the dazzling sun light. His eyes still not accustomed to the brightness, despite the googles. There was a shape, large and bulbous, moving towards them. He stared in wonder as the machine drew closer. Eventually it passed overhead, hissing and spluttering as the flying contraption vented steam from its clattering engine. The Squire class airship chugged past and headed for the town centre.

The bells of Ostium rang loudly in conjunction with the great Magna Horn, which sounded again, signalling the arrival of the Hibernian Herald. A regular occurrence that happened across the realm. Twice monthly the heralds would arrive from the distant capital of Anthrea, bearing news of world's affairs. Always they arrived via airship since it was the fastest known way to cover Hibernia's snow-covered landscape and travelled to every corner of the land.

A tiny hand grabbed hold of Leos, which made him flinch.

'Come on, I want to hear the Herald's word.' Lyanna said. Leos tried to resist but found the girl all to persistent, so for a second time found himself following reluctantly.

They slipped into the natural movement of the crowd, which appeared to be heading in the direction of a large, round building piercing the town skyline. It seemed everybody was going. The crowd's excitement grew as they drew closer to the large building, dominating the surrounding structures. It was huge. Its walls were a series of large arches, supporting a domed roof of thick terracotta slates, from which a wooden platform sprouted out. A design to accommodate great numbers easily. Leos saw the docked airship resting quietly upon the jetty, the occasional hiss of steam vented into the bitter air as its mechanical system depressurised. Figures could by seen scurrying about its wooden surface, readying the vessel for its next departure, tightening ropes and refilling the boiler. Like all airships, the machine needed significant amount of maintenance to keep it airworthy.

The crowd led them inside the giant structure. Leos saw a huge stone staircase spiralling down from the roof onto an elevated platform in the room's centre. Bright tapestries hung from every scrap of wall, depicting all sorts of images which he found completely unfamiliar.

The herald came forth. Resplendent in his brightly coloured tunic of gold, purple and red, he looked out over the crowd from the circular platform. Calmly he raised a large scroll above his head, a sign for those gathered to silence themselves. A few minutes passed before he was happy to proceed, the crowd were now his and looked on with hunger.

Slowly he unrolled the large scroll and began to read the finely scribed gold print, his voice projected easily to the furthest reaches of the open building.

'People of Hibernia, I bring to you on this day grave news, as decreed by the steward of Anthrea, Lord Ellious Fiddorus. The Imperial state of Cowldonia has been set upon by villains! Prince Alexander Gildane, the Emperor's son, has been kidnapped and his whereabouts unknown.' He paused for a time to let the expected gasps and cries run through before continuing.

'A ransom has been declared for the Prince's release, which the Emperor has controversially stated, will not be met. He has declared the nation of Trian responsible for the kidnapping, and it is his will to respond to this apparent act of terrorism with a show of force.' The herald's voice gave way to a series of shouts and cries issuing from the gathered citizens. Their fears grew worse as the bad news continued.

'It is now known that the White Army of Cowldonia marches towards Trian, led by none other than the notorious Warlord, General Marcus Zion, the Emperor's champion. Cowldonia has formally requested the noble state of Hibernia to shows its support in this matter and send out diplomats to discuss terms with Trian for the immediate release of the Prince.' Further cries of disbelief rose up, forcing the herald to stop once again.

'This will lead to war,' one shouted

'A war that will end at our borders!' cried another

'What is the Steward's reaction?'

'Where does Hibernia stand?'

The sense of panic was rife amongst the crowd. Lyanna tried hard not to be engulfed by it. She glanced over to Leos, who looked nervously around. The man knew he was involved in all this and pulled the thick furred collar of his coat higher to further obscure his face. He saw fear in people's eyes. Fear that would quickly grow to hate and anger if people knew the truth.

Lyanna's expression was one of worry and concern. Her tiny hand grabbed onto his arm and she drew close.

'This is bad, Leos,' she said quietly, 'we must leave now. I have to speak with Lord Ellious as soon as possible.'

'Who's that?'

'The Steward.' she whispered quietly. 'I'll tell you more outside. Let's get moving.'

Leos nodded. He'd suddenly become very uncomfortable standing here and was keen to get away. A strange feeling of caution swept throughout him that grew worse after the herald's next announcement.

'The state has also put out a warrant for the arrest and capture of a young Cowldonian male of average build and dark features. He is believed to be linked directly to the kidnapping and wanted for crimes of treason. This traitor must be apprehended as soon as possible.'

Leos's eyes went wide behind his goggles as the herald proceeded to describe him. This was it. It wouldn't be long now before he was captured again. Now he was the one to feel fear and Lyanna, clearly sensing his unrest, tightened her grip a little more and tried to steady him with a stern look.

She nodded toward the exit, indicating it was time to go. Slowly the pair retraced their steps out of the building and onto the courtyard, quietly slipping away from the assembled mass of worried people, who continued to shout questions at the herald.

'We must make our way north to Anthrea at once.' she said quietly once they were safely outside.

'What for? Shouldn't we be hiding?'

'Because Cowldonina might be going to war against the wrong nation.'

'So, that's not my problem.'

'Yes, it is, Leos, don't be cold hearted. You could be the key to stopping them.'

'What do you mean?' hissed Leos as she cast her large eyes about.

'If what you said to me before is true, then there may be some other power involved. Someone we've not yet encountered, who is fanning a war. Trian may be innocent!'

'Why would anyone want to start a war?'

'Leos, don't be naive. History proves nations constantly seek to topple one another for power.'

'I can't risk being captured again.'

'I know you're concerned. But think about it. If we can prove that there is somebody else involved, then we have more chance of proving you're not a murderer!' Leos paused before answering.

'So, you do believe me. That I am innocent.'

'Yes, I do.' she replied truthy. Leos smiled, then nodded slowly.

'Alright, let's say I agree. Why would the Steward even agree listen to us and not simply slap me in chains?'

'Let me worry about Lord Ellious. Our first concern is getting out of here. Anthrea is some distance and the road will be slow.'

'Ok, fine. I'll go with your idea. So how do you plan on getting there? We cannot walk from here-'

He stopped speaking as he followed the girl's gaze up towards the Editorium roof.

'Oh no,' said Leos dismally.

*****

'I thought you knew how to fly one of these?!' cried Leos whilst holding on for dear life to the ships main prop housing.

'It's been a while!' shouted Lyanna, as she frantically worked the airship's controls, opening pressure valves while trying to steer. The girl's blue tinged skin became much deeper as she tried to fly the Squire class vessel, which usually had a crew of three, all by herself.

'Decrease ballast!' she ordered. Leos had since fallen to the deck and cowered desperately to the hull with arms outstretched, unsure of her meaning. The fur hat he'd previously worn had come free to reveal his panic-struck eyes.

The ship fell hard to starboard. Leos wailed and slid across the hull towards the safety rails, drowning out Lyanna's repeated calls for aid with his own squeals of fear.

'Leos, we need more lift. Untie some sandbags and open the fire box vents. Hurry!'

Another sharp fall portside sent Leos sprawling back over to the other side. His long arms wrapped tightly around the outer rails as he hit the hull, holding him fast. He looked down to the streets of Ostium which whizzed past below, its people looked like tiny ants scurrying about their daily business.

He jumped as a blur of red tiles suddenly appeared, mere inches from his face as the ship crossed over yet another rooftop. Leos yelped as they crashed into the roof's apex, sending dozens of clay shards tumbling down to the ground. Luckily nobody was hurt from the falling debris. So much for slipping by unseen. Half the Hibernian army will be chasing them at this rate.

'Leos, the bags!' cried Lyanna again. Leos took a moment to compose himself, then reached out over the edge of the ship to grab the nearest sandbag, which swung wildly about. He clasped hold of the release line then pulled sharply. The slip knot came loose, and the heavy bag of sand dropped. The sound of clattering tiles could be heard as the heavy weight crashed through someone's roof.

Not wanting to stop, Leos then moved onto the next bag and then next. A series of sand bombs plummeted to the ground, smashing rooftops or landing in the street. It wasn't long before he felt the hull rise and gripped the rails tightly as somehow his balance became unsteady. He looked back and immediately saw his error, the ship had listed sharply portside and was slowly heading off course again.

'Do it on both sides you fool!' screamed the girl from the pilothouse as she fought with the helm, trying to compensate.

Leos looked down the slanted length of the ship as it dropped dangerously close to the ground. There was no choice but to let go. He slid down the hull and crashed into the other side with a grunt, but his momentum was such that he kept going and tumbled over the rails with a cry of genuine fear. Luckily, he grabbed the hull line, but the force of his weight wrenched the safety rope free from its binds.

Leos wailed as he tumbled through the air towards the street. The slack line snapped tight at the next anchor point as it held true. His hands burnt with fire as he slipped further down the line, drawing further cries of pain. He swung wildly about as the ship slammed into the side of a passing building, causing several sandbags to fall. Leos bounced and span off timber framed buildings, miraculously avoiding the falling bags.

The sudden loss of weight seemed to be enough for the ship to stabilise, and slowly he was lifted out of harm's way. The ship rose evenly and soon became clear of the endless rooftops. Leos's knuckles had turned white as he maintained his vice like grip upon the thick rope.

He calmed himself, then set about wrapping the line between his feet, so to take the weight off his straining arm muscles. The cool air bit deep into his checks, turning them red and tugged wildly at his hair. He heard a snigger above, then looked up to see Lyanna smirking down at him. A broad smile set upon her youthful face.

'Please, don't try to help, I can manage!' he yelled while swinging above the now shrinking town. The girl laughed, then walked back to the pilothouse, chuckling the whole time. The clattering sound of the ship's engine masked the abusive language Leos yelled as he climbed to safety.
D.R. Hurley

Sixteen

Six days of endless marching had passed since Cowldonia's White Army set forth from Bangarrow on their noble quest for justice. Their journey towards the distant lands of Trian would be slow and arduous, but the soldiers' nerve was steeled, thanks to their unshakable faith in their cause. It was an event historians would praise for years to come, the Empire's greatest hour in the face of utmost adversity.

The cheers of the capital's people rang loudly in the soldiers' ears as they left the cluttered streets of the capital. Banners fluttered high in the light morning breeze and the air was thick with brightly coloured confetti, scattered from the rooftops.

The Emperor himself had led the parade, traveling alongside the nation's champion, General Zion, until they had reached the outer borders of the city, where he handed over command. The pressing needs of a country as mighty as Cowldonia demanded its ruler's attention, despite his personal attachment to the quest. Lucius was strongly advised against going by his aides, and as such reluctantly remained behind. Though secretly, Marcus suspected the Emperor's advisors were fearful to risk their leader going into battle with the disadvantage of his mechanical leg. Something which Marcus completely agreed with.

The day itself was a spectacle of momentous proportions, though sadly little more than the faintest echo of a memory for the General, as he sat quietly inside his lumbering war carriage, brooding over the coming days.

His force was now out of Cowldonian province, and making steady progress across the outlying border lands of Tilliya. The mighty wagon still led way, trundling ahead of the enormous procession. Its twin, rear mounted banners flapped gracefully in the steady air, proudly bearing the Imperial family crest and the Cowldonian colours.

Built from heavy oak timbers and iron fastenings, the carriage alone weighed several tonnes, and took no less than four mechanical steeds to pull. In battle, the wagon would serve not only as command beckon, but also a symbol of power, for it was a terrifying weapon. Wooden wheels bound with thick bands of steel ground steadily across the land, churning endless clouds of golden dust in its wake.

Behind it followed the Emperor's army, with its many wagons and soldiers marching silently on to the sound of clattering metal and snorting horses. A detachment of carts laden with strange contraptions brought up the rear, almost a full league behind.

Many races throughout the world were blessed with gifts from the Gods before they fell from grace. The southern tribes of the Mierock people had the power to command animals through will alone, and the Hibernians could harness the freezing elements. Even the Trian's had the blasphemous use of their Kier energy. A talent bestowed to them by their treacherous deity, and the ultimate source of Cowldonia's bitter resentment towards them.

It is believed that when the Great Tumarr family passed centuries ago, they decreed the power of Kier was far too unstable for their children to wield. Its use would bring ruin and destruction. As such, Belthor and Hamiya chose not to bless the world with it, and instead gave their favoured sons and daughters with the knowledge of craft. A power which has enabled the Cowl to create all sorts of wondrous inventions that has since shaped the world, and granted them the title of foremost engineering masters on the globe.

This skill is the true source of the Empire's strength, for few would dare face the wrath of such strange and archaic engineering lightly. A fact General Zion hoped to exploit, if the need arose and stronger action were required to retrieve the Prince.

He rocked gently back and forth amongst the lavish furnishings of the wagon's interior and sneered at the unsightly taste of his surroundings. He'd always felt uncomfortable riding in this ostentatious monstrosity, thinking it better suited for an Emperor then his more modest, if not rugged character. But his rank and position deemed it necessary. Secretly he'd preferred to be in the saddle of a good steed; a real steed, not one of those God-awful contraptions that were so popular these days. Although traveling in this, appliance, did have some perks.

A large measure of brandy lay heavy in his right hand which he toyed with idly. That was at least until he was dislodged from his daydream by a firm and familiar voice, returning him to the present.

'My lord, what are your thoughts?' the voice said curtly.

Marcus crashed back into reality with relative disgust and found his attention being focused upon the faces of two Captains, sitting on the opposite side of the carriage's table. The General quickly regained his composure and sat a little straighter, grunting to himself before draining the contents of his glass.

'Gentlemen,' he began, whilst savouring the rich liquor tingling his pallet, and trying to recount their previous conversation, 'your concerns for the Trian defences have been noted, yet predictably they are in vain. Arrangements have already been made to neutralize the target, so you have nothing to fear. The Rayamthos defence poses no threat to us, of that you can believe. You are quite safe.'

The two men shared a confused look with each other, much to the General's amusement. It was a moment before anyone spoke. The silence broken only by the occasional hiss of venting steam from the oldest Captain's mechanical arm, and the gentle trickle of flowing brandy as the General poured himself another generous measure.

'What arrangements do you speak of my lord?' questioned Captain Offidius, commander of the 21st dragoon detachment, and the most senior officer in the whole division, next to the General. A giant of a man with many years of service. He'd fought in countless battles at Zion's side, and wasn't afraid of his superiors abrupt, and often intimidating nature.

Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly as he focused upon the insolent man and his, ridiculous muttonchop beard and monocle. His left eye glowed menacingly in the carriage's dull light as he regarded Offidius's mechanical arm. Expensive though it was, it still bore the appearance of a dreadfully crude device. The gears within its metal casing clunked loudly as the Captain adjusted his position on the bench.

Marcus raised the crystal tumbler to his lips and sipped slowly. The rich brandy warmed his pallet gently and left a sweet aftertaste that was most satisfying.

'A team has already been dispatched to deal with the problem and will soon be in position. Once there, they will remain hidden until further notice. If negotiations fail, then I will signal them to proceed as planned, and make ready for our attack.'

Once again, the two men were taken back by the General's news, but it was the younger of the two officers who replied first.

'Attack my lord? Doesn't that go against our orders? We are to intimidate only. To lay siege and show the Trians the folly of their campaign.'

The long scar running down the General's face twisted noticeable as he clenched his teeth.

'Don't talk to me of duty, Captain Parmen. I know too well the Emperor's command. But, if the enemy chooses not to comply, then I will be forced to act accordingly, as previously discussed. Is that clear?'

The young Captain's face brimmed with rage at being spoken too so disrespectfully, yet it was Offiduis who intervened, hoping to diffuse his comrade's unrest before he got himself into trouble.

'Be that as it may, my lord, but the fact remains. The Rayamthos defence possess a very real and serious threat to our soldiers-'

'My soldiers, Captain!' growled the General between mouthfuls of brandy. Offidius paused at the response, then nodded before continuing.

'No one has ever been able to breach the system, let alone get close to its inner workings and remain undetected. The Trians will surly sniff out your team in an instant.'

'Do you have so little faith in your commander's word, Captain? Do you fear I have descended into madness and will lead us all to our graves?' There was no reply, from either man.

Instead the three officers endured an awkward silence, which remained for several long and uncomfortable moments. Offidius's metal fingers carefully grasped hold of his monocle in an excellent display of dexterity, where he proceeded to clean the dust off it, which prompted Captain Parmen to speak up once again and break the tension.

'My Lord General, there is no man who walks among us that doubts your judgment. But, the risks to this operation are vast. We do not yet know the full effectiveness of the Trians in battle, and besides. What faith can we have in this team you speak of. Nobody has even heard of them!'

'That is because you are not meant to know, Captain Parmen, unless I deem it necessary, which for the time being I do not!' growled the General in response to the younger man's comment.

Marcus had never been particularly fond of this upstart youth and had little patience for him. Always questioning his senior officer's orders like they were fools. Yet despite his constant lack of respect, his prowess in battle could not be ignored. Parmen was a ruthless killer. And though his heavy-handed tactics caused many an eyebrow to be raised back in the capital, the General could not deny his effectiveness. He needed soldiers like Parmen to carry out the most gut wrenching of tasks, where other men would falter.

He observed the youth with his one good eye as he sipped his drink. A well-groomed man, with slick black hair and pencil moustache. Tall and lean. His sharp, youthful features gave him a distasteful air of nobility, a trait so typically common amongst his bloodline.

Parmen came from a long line of distinguished officers that stretched back over a century. His noble heritage brought arrogance, and blinded the officer into thinking he deserved respect, simply out of principle. Now the youth stared back at his general with barely suppressed rage. His slender jawline clenched in time with his fist at being spoken down to again, but he knew better then to provoke his leader. He drew a slow breath, then bowed his head apologetically.

'But even so, my lord, can we trust this team to succeed in their mission?' continued Offidius.

'I trust them more than I trust any man here today to do my bidding successfully and without question. The Rayamthos defence will not be a threat. And now, gentlemen, if you please. I have other, more pressing matters that demand my attention.' He motioned for the pair to leave then unrolled a large map, detailing Trian, which he set upon the wooden desk that separated them.

The two men took their leave without another word said and climbed out of the enormous carriage to join their men.

'Crazy drunk! He's obviously deluded, there is no team. If there was, we'd have heard of it surely?' ranted Parmen once they were safely out of earshot. The two men stood watching the dwindling form of their leader's carriage from the sanctuary of the dry grass verge, so not to hinder the army's advance.

'Don't be so quick to judge the General. He is an experienced officer who plays his cards very close to his chest. He wouldn't commit to an operation unless fully prepared.'

'He's a relic. A fossil, whose love of tonic has clearly affected his better judgement.' Offidius smiled, shaking his head.

'You sir must learn to tread more carefully around him. The General's not opposed to flogging his officers in front of the men.' he cautioned, jabbing a metal finger into the lad's chest.

Parman snorted in disgust.

'His arrogance will send us all to the grave.'

Captain Offidius took several paces forward, scratching the silver bristles of his muttonchop beard as he pondered his colleague's remark.

'Maybe. Yet you still follow him willingly. What exactly does that say about you?'

Parmen felt his temper rise at the remark, yet managed to control himself.

'What choice do I have?' he said bitterly.

Offidius turned to face the youth, and carefully placed a set of metal fingers upon his shoulder. A cloud of steam vented into the air from his elbow as the mechanized arm flexed. Parmen squinted as the glass lenses of his colleague's monocle caught the sun.

'Then let us pray our leader's claims are true. Otherwise we all march openly to our dooms.' he replied grimly.

*****

'Idiots!' cried Marcus, pounding his fist onto the map laid out before him.

'Bloody hang the lot of them!' he cursed bitterly, before dumping the contents of his glass into his gullet.

'Oh, come now father, we can't all be that bad?' said a voice within his head.

Marcus paused as he remembered the words. The ghost of a smile appeared briefly in the corners of his mouth. He thought back to the time he last travelled this road, softening his scared face for a moment. A horse whinnied outside, then galloped past the carriage with a trail of golden dust in its wake.

Marcus quickly looked outside and watched the rider gallop off to rejoin his troops. His old eyes saw a different man sitting upon that horse and his smile broadened as the memory of his son flashed before him once more.

'Personally, I'd say the fault lies with those further up the chain. Not setting the proper example to us, less worthy individuals!'

Marcus grunted in amusement as he fell back into his seat, losing focus on the dusty landscape. He touched the weighty medal hanging around his neck as a scene from what seemed like another life now played out again in his mind...

'You son are the worst of the lot. I'd wager it is by your forked tongue that my officers constantly seek to undermine me!' General Zion spurred his horse into a cantor to draw distance from his son, silently cursing himself for letting jibe get to him.

The pair rode together at the head of a small force of around two hundred souls. An expedition sent out from the Empire, with the intention of quelling rising tension between the neighbouring nation of Trian. The day was still young, but there was at least a full day's ride before they reached the arranged meeting point.

Marcus's green eyes studied the distant landscape and could just make out the hazy shimmer of Trian's mountain range, jutting out of the horizon. A sight which brought him no comfort. He breathed a long sigh and slumped in his saddle. Belthor was set high today, and the great provider beamed mightily down upon the dusty plains of Thailen with relentless fury. Marcus dabbed his sweat lined brow with a silk pocket chief. The land was dry and getting rockier with every step. How he'd missed the rolling hills of his beloved Cowldonia already, and his heart ached terribly to be with it.

The sound of heavy thuds shook the ground as Malfus galloped up from behind, breaking Marcus's brief moment of respite. The mechanical steed Gideon rode was the first of its kind. A bizarre concoction of beaten metal plates and braided hose, powered by the all new condensed vapor engine. A prototype soon to be rolled out across the Empire.

Gideon drew level with his father's horse and noted the hidden sadness in his eyes.

'Missing your precious nation already, father?' he said mockingly. Marcus quickly regained his composure then glanced over to his son. The youth cut an impressive figure in the warm heat. His heart swelled with pride to see the Cowldonian Star hanging around Gideon's neck. Its dark surface shone brightly in the sun, despite the dust filled air. Could there be any other to look so noble, so just? The General cleared his throat.

'It's this damnable dust that's all. There's no end to it!'

'Quite,' replied Gideon, with a raised eyebrow, 'well you need not fear father. It appears we have finally come to our journey's end and will soon be at the mercy of our hosts.' Marcus grunted.

'I seek to close the matter quickly. I don't trust these Skritt's one bit, and intend our stay to be as short as possible.'

'I don't think there's a single being alive that you do trust, my lord.' countered Gideon.

Marcus didn't reply. His attention was drawn to the distant figures now visible on the plain's horizon. Gideon followed his father's gaze, raising a hand to cover his eyes from the midday sun. The Trians were much further west then they ought to be.

'It would appear they too are keen to end this, debate.' he said jokingly, but noted the look of concern etched on his father's face.

'Ready the men.' he said sharply 'We'll soon be upon them. And tell them to be on their guard. Something's amiss.'

'Yes, my lord' replied Gideon, before wheeling his metal horse round...

The sound of cantering hooves filled the air, but it was not from the weighty stride of Malfus. A young rider had moved alongside General Zion's wagon and called out to him, breaking Marcus from his thoughts.

'Blood of Belthor! What now?' he roared angrily as his mind came back into the present.

He leaned over to the wagon's viewing port and looked out in search of the noise. His haggard face twisted into a snarling mass of wrinkles as his infamous red eye glowed deeply, locking onto the approaching rider. The young soldier went pale as their eyes met. The thunderous wrath carved onto his leader's face was enough to drain the blood from him.

'All these confounded interruptions. How am I supposed to plan this dam war?' he bellowed.

The rider came closer with head bowed, but remained a safe distance away.

'Forgive me, my lord,' he yelled, slowing his horse to match the wagons speed, 'we approach Thailen. What are your orders?' Marcus cast his gaze forwards then opened the wagon's door, leaning out to better see. The General's eyes narrowed as he gazed upon the approaching land with a distasteful sneer. The ruined settlement looked just as bleak and dreary as ever.

'Give the word to stop. The army will rest until I say otherwise. Have my personal guard assemble here promptly. I wish to tend to my son's grave.' He then disappeared back into the wagon slamming the door, much to the relief of the rider, who promptly took his leave.

*****

The sun was set high in the sky by the time they finished. General Zion rose quietly from the ground having laid a woven wreath of Silliun flowers, a plant which first sprung over the grave of Demico, the doomed nephew of Tumarr. It is said the world's earth was forever nourished when the child God's blood spilt onto it. The gift of life for the ground, where nature would flourish thereafter.

Gideon had always enjoyed their scent, it reminded him of his mother. It was her favourite flower. Now its fragrance would lie over both their graves, back in the capital. A solemn look cast over the General's face as more memories of his son swamped him.

This was it. This was the place where it happened. This patch of dirt which held so little value to anyone at all had become the most significant and mournful site in all of Marcus's life. For on this worthless scrap of worm filled land lies the true grave of one of the most noble and promising young citizens the Empire has ever known. And who, like Demico, was betrayed to his death. Though it was not through jealousy that this child of Cowldonia was felled, but treachery.

My Son, how I miss you.

The guilt of death still weighed heavily upon him, even after all this time. As a leader of men, the failure to protect his soldiers was difficult to bear, but ultimately inevitable. But as a father, the failure to protect his child's life from harm was a burden so great and terrible he would carry the wound till the end of his days. Forever haunting his steps. No parent should ever live to see their kin fall.

Since his death, Marcus repeatedly cursed himself for missing the opportunity to tell his son how proud he was of his achievements, or honour him publicly. Fearful the display might show favouritism over jealous rivals, who thought the nobleman's rising career was only fuelled by his father's influential position.

I was a fool to think that.

He stood before the site alone, choosing to leave his guard of soldiers standing back someway so that they could not see the hurt in his eye. A faint breeze sent down from Jakkaro's breath scattered dust over them all and caught the General's cape, briefly lifting it high to reveal a lining of deepest purple.

Such a waste, such folly! Why did it happen? A thousand times I have asked yet none can answer.

No matter how much he tried to recall, Marcus never understood why the Trian's attacked. There was no sign of hostility, no hint of betrayal. Yes, the Skritt's were never fully to be trusted, but none could have predicted that which happened here.

He pictured the scene clearly in his mind. Slarr's children stood quietly in long rows; not an ounce of discipline to be had amongst them. His troops had approached slowly with weapons sheathed. They were only supposed to negotiate, to discuss. What madness took hold of the Trian's may never be known, but he remembered seeing the distinct hatred in their feline eyes. The bitterness within shining through.

The attack came without warning, slaying many of his men in a matter of moments. A barrage of crackling energy sent forth from clawed hands, tore through the ranks of unprepared soldiers with horrifying ease. Eventually Marcus and his men managed to beat them back, but the price of victory was high. Marcus's hand rose to touch the deep scar running down his face. A gift left to him by a silver furred Skritt who bested him. His life should have ended that day, yet it was not so.

Tears fell openly down his wrinkled face as he remembered Gideon standing valiantly over his broken body, single handedly fighting off the Trians as they closed in for the kill. A newly promoted Captain by the name of Offidius, dragged Marcus away, despite his own injuries. His bearded face was stricken with anguish from the removal of his right arm, but he carried on with the task regardless with gritted teeth. Blood spurted into the air from the tattered threads of Offidius's missing sleeve, staining the earth as they fled. The scraps of bloodied fabric fluttered angrily in the wind as he pulled the wounded General to safety, despite the man's plea for his son, until a body of fresh troops finally rushed in to save them. It was there Offidius finally allowed himself the luxury of passing out, as the last remains of his strength finally left his body.

By the time General Zion's forces had regrouped it was already too late. Gideon was lost. They found his ruined corpse sometime later amidst a pile of Trian corpses, pierced from a dozen blades, but still clenching his dripping sword. A son's life spent willingly to save his father.

Peace be with you always.

Marcus's gaze moved down to the weighty medal held tightly in his grip. The Cowldonian Star. A medal awarded to those in recognition for their great courage and bravery in the face of adversity. In all the Empires long history there were but few occasions when these prodigious medals were ever awarded, and this one belonged to his son. Now, this small lump of polished metal was all that remained of him and Marcus carried it to serve as a reminder of his failure.

'Soon, all will be made good. I will wield the strength of Cowldonia in your name and use it to smite our foes. Your life will finally be paid for with the blood of their wretched lives. I promise you, son. Justice will be done!' he said through gritted teeth.

Droplets of warm blood fell to the ground as he brought a clenched fist to his chest in salute; the medals sharp points easily punctured his flesh. Marcus wiped his face dry, then turned away, leaving the sacred spot. He returned to his army and quickly gave orders to resume the march with all speed.

D.R. Hurley

Seventeen

When Jakkaro's wrath forced Hallas to flee into the east, it was Belthor's hand that stayed the final blow. The Great Provider gave mercy to his son and prevented his first born from killing his brother, to avenge the loss of his own child. Instead, Belthor changed Hallas's form to match that of his jealous heart. And so, the creature Slarr was born.

Now, ours is the task to finish what Belthor lacked in strength to achieve. The race of Slarr's children must be wiped clean in order for new life to grow. Only one amongst their number could threaten our plans, but that life is so fragile, so delicate, the merest breath of intervention would see it toppling into despair. It need not concern us, for now...

The final dummy exploded, sending its straw stuffed insides high into the air. Strands of golden fibre fell gently to the ground like autumn leaves, tumbling over the Trian warrior who'd destroyed it with a lethal blast of energy. The young doe slowed her heavy breathing and relaxed tense muscles, controlling her body in preparation for another attack.

A heartbeat later, she jumped backwards into the air, propelled by her powerful hind legs. The warrior spun around mid-flight to bring her mighty halberd slicing through a tree, and another dummy hidden behind it. Her large ears pricked at the sound of rushing air. The doe instantly spun on her heels and whipped her tail around to knock the projectile out of the air before it struck, then brought her vambraces together to deflect a second object which came from above.

A haze of shimmering light appeared around her forearms as the doe expertly channelled energy from her mind into her armour, creating a shield. A heartbeat later the tiny stone was vaporised into a cloud of dust, temporarily blinding her. The shield had saved her from injury, but cost her vital seconds of vision, which was enough for her assailant to place a sliver blade against her throat.

The youth froze, panting with fear. The shock caused her ribbed tail to straighten. The fight was over. She had lost. And her life forfeit.

'Remember child, it takes only a heartbeat for the battle to turn ill. You must remember to use all your senses, Nikita, to be totally in tune with your body and mind. If this were a real fight you would be dead.'

The blade retracted from her throat and into the pocket of Master Rykun, who looked upon his niece sternly.

'You push me so hard Uncle, I cannot keep up. Why do the other Long Furs get off so easily?' The old master paused for a moment before answering.

'Because, you bare the great honour of protecting a senior member of the High Council, until pain of death. And they do not. If you were to fall in battle, I would never forgive myself for allowing you to go into a fight so unprepared.'

'More like if I failed saving you!' she muttered.

'Just because I happen to be that said member, doesn't mean your charge is any less honourable.'

He placed a fur covered paw on her shoulder and removed a piece of straw dangling from the end of one of her whiskers. The doe pulled away, resenting his touch upon her.

'You always say the mightiest of warriors can fall before a single arrow.'

'That is true. But it still pays to be prepared.'

Rykun smiled at his niece, despite her resentment. The youth was almost fully grown, and rapidly becoming a strong and fiercely independent doe. He had cared for her these last ten years, since the death of her parents, and now considered the orphan child his own.

Nikita chewed her lip as she walked over to a nearby tree, picking up the leather sheath she had removed before training, and placed it back onto her weapon. She fastened it with a piece of gold thread, but was scolded a second time by her uncle for doing so.

'Would you put clean clothes upon a soiled body? Respect your weapon. Treat it like an extension of yourself, and always clean the blade before sheaving it.' The doe muttered something under her breath, then did as she was told.

What does it matter anyway, it would still be just as sharp!

Nikita was an acolyte of the Long furs. An elite group of warriors charged with protecting the nation's highest officials. It was considered a great honour to be picked for the role. Though some suspected Nikita's inclusion was heavily influenced by her uncle's position.

The Trian race was built upon war and every citizen began their life training in the military schools. A system which not only focused on academic study, but also basic soldiering, weapons handling and the sacred use of Kier. This strict regime continued for years, until the individual came of age and ascending into adulthood with a choice. Seek enlistment in the regular army or work as a citizen to provide support for the economy.

Yet the latter option did not mean escape from life as a soldier. All Trians were required to attend weekly training sessions to maintain their skills. War was just a part of life. Nikita's time was close. Soon she would have to make that choice which would change the course of her life.

The doe kept her eyes low as the old master started to lecture with words of self-improvement, however she soon found her thoughts drifting away. Her brown eyes glazed over as she imagined faraway lands filled with riches and glory. The youth had already decided enlistment was not for her, and the thought of spending her life confined to the fields of her parents' estate was equally disturbing. It was a fate she knew she had to escape. What she wanted most of all was to explore the world beyond Trian, and longed to make it so.

A plan was already made. Everything had been worked out. On the eve of her next birthday, she would gather any provisions needed and flee to the southerly village of Ancorrin. From there, she would travel alongside the eastern river towards Klayco. She knew how to live off the land so wasn't worried about finding food or shelter. Once arrived at the coastal town, she could find work to raise enough funds to buy passage on a vessel to the New Continent and continue her adventure. It was perfect! The idea of leaving this place behind and her strict uncle excited her. So much so that her wild thoughts caused a smile to creep across her face.

The dream promptly ended as pain lashed into her. Master Rykun released a tiny burst of energy from his clawed finger, sending it into his niece's feet. Nikita yelped as the energy scorched her skin.

'Pay attention to my words child. I speak not for my own benefit, but yours!'

Nikita glared at her uncle but remained silent so not to anger him further. The day was still young, and she wanted to spend it as lazily as she could, not working extra details for being disobedient. The old master sighed as he regarded her.

'Soon I must travel to Hythrall. I have business there. After which, I am required to attend a meeting back in Altrad with the other council members. I shall be gone for some time-'

'You're going to the capital again?'

'Yes child, I do. The needs of our country are vast, and demand frequent attention.'

'You spend more time with them, then you do your home.' grumbled the doe. Rykun smiled. Perhaps the doe did hold a spot for him within her heart after all.

'Such is the burden of a councillor. However, upon my return I hope to continue with your training.' Nikita huffed.

'What choice would I have anyway?'

Her uncle stiffened at the remark, and shook his head. Why couldn't she understand?

'Very well. I trust next time you will have thought well on the lessons of today, and adjusted your mind accordingly.'

Nikita kept her head low, not wanting to take her eyes off the dusty ground and meet her uncles disapproving glare. Secretly she couldn't wait the old fossil to go, but that notion was kept safely inside her head.

Rykun noticed the doe was fidgeting with something on her finger. The sight of it caught his breath.

'I see you've chosen to wear your mother's ring.' he said softly.

Nikita paused then moved her hands to her sides.

'I'm close to the age she was when father gave it to her. It seemed right to finally wear it.' Her words brought a brief smile to Rykun's long face, but also filled his eyes with sadness.

'It suits you. You should keep it. Your mother would have liked that.' His sentiment sparked no reaction from his niece. Rykun knew the doe was still reluctant to talk about her parents and decided to let the matter lie.

Sensing there was little more to be gained with the breaking of words, the old Trian dismissed the doe with a wave of his clawed hand. Nikita grabbed her things and raced out of the Gatelands Meadow before her uncle had a chance to change his mind. It was a place that had seen three generations of her family train.

A fresh wind rolled down from the surrounding mountains into the lush pasture, rustling trees and sending leaves tumbling through the air. It caught hold of the Master's long, sagging whiskers and swayed them gently as he watched her leave.

'That child will be the death of me.' he said quietly to the wind. His amber eyes widened slightly as a familiar voice called back in response.

'Death comes to us all, my friend. Even one so mighty as you!'

The old Trian's rock-like face softened at the sound of the voice. He turned slowly to face the new arrival and was greeted by the sight of his life-long friend, Ambassador Callus.

The two had long shared friendship and were renowned for being troublesome in their earlier days. They came together and pressed foreheads in the customary way.

'You must be patient with her.' said Callus after the embrace, gently resting a paw on his friend's shoulder.

'She hates me, Callus,' said Rykun sorely, 'and she should. I admit that over the years my desire to see her succeed has overshadowed my duties as her godfather. But, I did so out of my duty to protect her. I will not allow myself to fail again. Like I did with her parents.'

The old master turned from his friend and walked out of the training ground, stopping before an enormous tree sitting in the centre of the meadow. He looked fondly at the tiny carving etched onto the trees bark and sighed deeply.

Callus shook his head slowly, then moved silently to stand with his friend, arms locked behind his back. He followed Rykun's gaze and smiled with recognition at the sight of the carving.

'You're too hard on yourself. Your sister's loss was tragic yes, but not linked to you.'

'Wasn't it? I should have protected her, Callus. I should have been there when she needed me. I sent Freya to her grave.'

'You did no such thing. She knew exactly what she was doing. And as for Nolan, well...' He paused, unable to finish the words and shrugged. Rykun looked back to his friend.

'Your hands were bound,' began Callus once more, 'you had no choice.'

'There is always a choice.' said Rykun grimly.

'Brother please, don't be a fool. The weight of the dead is a heavy burden to carry, one which you should not have to bear alone. And besides. None could have predicted what happened that day.'

'So, what should I do? How can I fix this?'

'You must be strong and trust your instincts. Remember, Nikita still does not know the truth.'

'That is because she is not ready.'

'Is there ever a good time to speak of such matters? I fear your only delaying the inevitable. You have to tell her soon, my friend.'

Rykun kept his eyes on the tree as he considered his friend's words. Eventually Callus spoke again, hoping to make him see sense.

'The young have a way of forgiving. In time she will come to understand and the resentment she now feels will heal, and turn to love. Her nineteenth-year falls in a few days, her coming of age. I suggest you do so before it arrives.'

Even though it was coming from Callus, it still wasn't any easier to swallow. The thought of telling his niece the truth about her parents had frightened Rykun for many years. How a truth so cruel could be understood by someone as volatile as Nikita without driving her away was beyond him.

His feline eyes lost focus on reality as he stared at the carved symbol, succumbing to his grief as thoughts of the past rolled over his troubled mind. Rykun reached out to touch the symbol with a clawed paw and sighed heavily. He remembered the day his sister had caved it, nearly thirty years ago. Slowly, he began to nod as his mind became set.

'The decision has been made. The child will be told on the eve of her next year.'

And may Slarr be forgiving!

D.R. Hurley

Eighteen

Hibernia was often referred to as the White Realm, its vast landscape has always been hidden beneath a thick blanket of snow. Even in mid-summer, its lands rarely thaw for more than a handful of days, revealing a rocky and barren plain. The frozen landscape is broken only by dense woodland trees, whose leaves never fall from their thick branches.

Long has it been said that Hibernia stands ever in the shadow of Belthor. For even he, the mighty sun God, does not have the power to thaw its frozen peaks. And so, has turned his back on it. Only at day's end do the true masters of this realm appear. For as Belthor's reign fades the Maidens rise to claim these lands for themselves, bathing all the land in a silver light that is both chilling and beautiful.

Tonight, was no exception. The clouds had parted to reveal a stunning veil of twinkling lights, shining brightly amongst the heavens. The vast snow fields of Tantam lay siege to the capital, Anthrea. They looked like a huge patchwork of rocky pillows all stitched together by dozens of trees, whose branches sagged heavily with snow. A lone plume of black smoke stood out amongst the beautiful setting. Trailing high into the sky, it cast a nasty stain upon the landscape as the remains of a Squire class airship burnt into the night.

Two lonely figures stood quietly before the wreckage, watching in silence as the dancing flames continued to play over the crackling wood. Warm golden light drenched the bodies of the vessel's former crew members, who considered their next move.

'We should go.' said Lyanna calmly, not taking her eyes of the burning airship. A moment passed before any response was heard. Leos replied with a long and slow grunt signalling they were both in agreement.

Time passed without spoken word until finally the ensuing silence was broken by the delicate crunching of snow beneath feet. Lyanna walked slowly away from the fire, leaving her companion to his thoughts. His large and once dominant shadow now stood alone before the flickering flames.

'I thought you knew how to fly these...?' said Leos as he walked away from the crash site.

*****

The night sky had grown into maturity, and the twin moons of planet Kargos seemed to smile down upon the two figures that trudged steadily through the heavy snow. There was no need to conceal their path, the trail of deep footsteps would soon be swallowed up by the drifting snow. Bouts of steaming air poured into the night, despite the cold, as Leos trudged ever onward in the wake of his companion. The girl seemed completely unaffected by the bitter environment.

Lyanna strode onwards with her head held high. Her porcelain face beaming with pleasure as she took in the natural beauty of her homeland with an overwhelming sense of pride. It had been too long since she'd felt the bite of cold air rushing into her cheeks, and missed it so much. To be amongst it once again was truly a feeling of pure joy and she laughed to herself with arms outstretched. The moons' light invigorated her further, heightening the sensation.

Leos however was fighting with every step. Struggling desperately to resist the freezing wind as it blew harder into his face. The snow was falling thick now and affected his vision. His goggles repeatedly clouded with moisture as frozen flakes landed on their lenses. He fastened the dog-eared hat under his chin, then pulled his tunics thick woollen collar as tight as he could to seal himself from the cold. The gloves Lyanna had provided him with were miserably thin and not nearly thick enough to protect him from the elements.

He rubbed his hands hard, hoping to stem some warmth back into them. The futile gesture did nought to relieve his grief as the bitter cold responded in force, further numbing his extremities. He cried out to the girl to stop. But his pleas were lost to the howling winds sent forth from Jakkaro.

The vengeful sky God appeared particularly bad-tempered tonight as he drove ever more snow down onto the hapless pair, hindering their advance across the blanketed ground. Countless numbers of frozen pellets crashed into Leos's face as he pushed further on. The wind was blowing even stronger now, with no signs of letting up.

Eventually it was too much for him. His failing body refused to take any more abuse as his limbs became painfully heavy. Leos collapsed onto the compacted snow, uncaring for its bitter touch against his skin.

That's it, he thought to himself I'm done. I can go no further. Just stay here until morning then we can finish this...tomorrow. It will be much easier then. I...'

His thoughts slipped into darkness as his mind became lost to a familiar sea of nothingness.

*****

'I see you hiding there little one. Do not fear. I'm not here to harm you. Come out and let me look at you.'

The young boy lifted his mass of knotted hair over the container and saw the red eyed devil staring back at him. A frightened gasp escaped his young lips as he withdrew, terrified of the monster's glowing appearance in the dull light.

'You are most peculiar to watch,' it said to the boy, 'I thought you would be grateful of this power I bestowed to you. Is that how you repay my, gift?'

The child cautiously lifted his head once more, his confidence slowly returning. The devil-man chuckled softly.

'Good. Now you must come with me. It's time to return.'

A hand lashed out and grasped the boy's arm, immediately dragging him free of his hiding place. The Boy wailed in fear as he was brought before the hollowed tank once again. They placed him inside. Bound him in place.

Cold fluid rushed up from his feet, making him panic. A tiny fist pounded against the inside of the Tank. The child begged them to stop. But off course they didn't. They never listened.

As the rank fluid rose above his head, the boy looked through the murky void to the world beyond, and saw the devil-man's crimson eyes staring back, smiling darkly...

Leos awoke with a gasp, and found that he was not buried deep under the expected blanket of snow, but instead rested upon a patch of hard earth that was most uncomfortable.

His head rose cautiously off his backpack. Slowly, the man cast his weary eyes around what seemed like a cave. A small fire burnt steadily nearby, but there was little else around. Leos shuffled closer to the warm heat. The sound of howling wind caught his ears that although distant, seemed to make the little fire flicker as a faint breeze washed gently over it.

His hands drew close to the flames and he watched quietly as the radiated heat warmed his numb fingers. There was no sign of the girl. Hopefully his companion wasn't too far away. The idea of being left alone here was most disturbing, especially after that dream. What was that anyway? Another memory? A nightmare? Or both!

He cast his mind from it, tired of all the second guessing, and considered crying out for Lyanna but decided against it. He didn't think it wise in case he attracted something hostile. When lost in a strange land it was always better to be prudent with one's safety.

He sat quietly by himself, and soon lost focus on the dancing flames as his thoughts drifted inward. There was still precious little to recall, his memories had not returned and all he could think of was those vivid dreams, especially the one he had on the boat. It troubled him deeply.

A stone courtyard littered with bodies. His bloodied hands. And those creatures. The very thought of them made him shudder, despite the fire's warmth. Those confusing fragments played endlessly inside, like a constant spiral of torment. What did it all mean? He'd been accused of kidnapping. Of murder! And if what he'd remembered was true, then surely he was guilty?

No. He was wrong. Had to be wrong. There must be more to it. He couldn't believe he was a killer. Surely, he was being hunted for something he hadn't committed. But what was he doing there, at the time? Had he been one of the Prince's soldiers? Did he get injured trying to stop the attack? Possibly. That could explain why he was lying on the ground. But then, he would have been found wearing a uniform or something and the guards would have identified him.

And what of his powers? Those strange happenings that continued to affect him. What did Lyanna call it? Keir? Whatever it was, it's clear he shouldn't possess it and had changed her perception of him. Did she consider him dangerous? A threat?

What am I then?

His mind swam with endless possibilities and questions that all seemed unanswerable. That was until a sharp crack of snapping wood brought his mind back into the cave.

Leos's dark eyes darted wildly about as he tried to locate the source of the sound, suddenly he didn't feel quite so safe.

'Lyanna?' he whispered, forgoing his previous hesitation of drawing danger. The sound of heavy thumps answered his call. Something approached. Leos felt a tiny tremor through the ground as the footsteps grew louder. His heart faltered as he heard the distinct sound of panting breath. The dull ache of fear surfaced in the pit of Leos's stomach as he realised whatever it was that was coming, it was big.

A portion of the cave became wreathed in darkness as a humongous shadow completely engulfed it. The man's dark eyes went wide with terror as a giant monster lurched into view. He scrambled back from the fire, his breathing now rapid.

It was huge. Tall and wide. The beast's enormous frame easily dwarfed his three-fold and towered mightily over him. It stood upon four powerfully built legs connected to a set of broad shoulders. Its head was large and canine in appearance, offset by a thick lower jaw studded with teeth as big as his hand. A heavy pelt of matted fur covered every inch of its muscular body.

The beast froze as it fixed its snarling gaze upon him. Leos noted its rigid form. Blasts of warm breath pulsed quickly out of its large nostrils, steaming the cold air around it. Its black eyes locked onto his, and Leos knew instantly he was staring into the face of death.

A moment later, the beast leapt for him, with a speed that belayed its massive bulk. It pounced on top of Leos, who barely had time to register the ferocity of the attack. Only it didn't kill him.

The beast was repealed by a flash of purple light that sent both of parties reeling. A protective shield enveloped Leos, saving his life, but it failed to stop the entire force of the blow. He tumbled to the ground, grunting in pain. The beast shook its massive head from side to side and swept its branchlike tail across the hard ground, scattering dirt and small stones all around.

Leos crawled backwards, trying desperately to escape its wrath. But he quickly found his back pressed up against the cave's rocky wall. He was trapped!

The hairy beast, now recovered from its dazed state, was stalking slowly towards him, although much more cautiously. Its head moved low as it stepped closer, sniffing sharply as if to determine what kind of creature it faced.

Leos checked his surroundings and reached for the only thing available, a broken spear plucked from a clump of firewood. He gripped it tightly between sweaty hands. One good thrust between its legs would end its life. And probably his too. Still what choice did he have?

He got up quickly and adopted a crouching position.

'Come on then!' he yelled, gritting his teeth as the snarling beast stalked ever closer.

A surge of anger swelled up from within his breast and travelled down his arms. Leos felt his hands buzz as he somehow channelled raw energy into the broken weapon, setting it ablaze with orange light. He looked aghast at the flaming spear, but there was no time to consider what was happening.

'Ok, let's finish this!' he snarled. The monster accepted his challenge, roaring with a force strong enough to make the rocky ground tremble. It charged again, and Leos let out a cry readying himself for the end.

Then out of nowhere there was a shout, and Lyanna appeared with arms outstretched. She screamed defiantly in her native tongue as the monster charged on thundering paws.

Leos cried out for her to move, but her feet remained planted. She stood valiantly with unflinching nerve.

It was close now, almost upon them. But the girl was calm, fixing the beast's snarling features with her own steely gaze. At the last second the monster stopped. Its front legs stuck fast into the ground, halting its rampaging advance in a skidding cloud of dust and stone. The cloud settled quickly. Leos watched as the beast retreated several paces. It circled around then slowly approached the girl, displaying none of its former aggression. The creature halted quietly before her, releasing a firm snort of steaming air out from its nostrils. Leos called for her to step away, but she remained still. He held his breath during the uncomfortable scene, totally baffled by the sudden change of events. Had she used the Eyther to still the beast?

The air was thick with tension, but Lyanna remained focused. Slowly her hands fell to her side, and the beast's temper subsided. A tiny palm extended its way towards the creature's nose, who stepped forward to sniff it with several deep snorts.

It growled a long, slow rumble that to Leos sounded almost sad. Lyanna chuckled in response then embraced the beast with open arms. Its massive head fell gently onto hers, swamping the girl in a mass of white shaggy hair. After a moment she turned to face her companion, who was completely flabbergasted by what had just happened.

'What do you think you're doing? Put that thing down you fool.' she snapped upon seeing he still held the broken spear, its power now faded.

Leos hesitated, fearful of letting go the only thing which might protect him. But the girl scolded him again and the weapon clattered to the ground.

'You big dolt!' she said sharply, 'not only do I have to drag your half-frozen corpse out of the snow to save you, but then I am rewarded with you attacking my Ennir. Maidens' grace, I was only gone for a moment.'

Lyanna paced around the cave with obvious fury. Her complexion darkened to a purple hue as she stormed about.

'And what business do you have trying to eat my friend?' she yelled angrily. Leos stammered pathetically as he tried to defend himself from the woman's wrath.

'I wasn't trying to eat him. I-'

The hairy beast lowered its head down between its massive paws, grunting deeply before it collapsed to the ground in a big heap.

'I don't care if you were hungry. Surely you would have known better than to eat a stranger. You don't know where he's been.'

Leos's panicked face changed to one of confusion as he tried to make sense of her words. He Looked between the girl and the monster.

'What are you talking about? That mangy creature was about to eat me!' he said stupidly.

'Do not call my Ennir mangy,' she snapped, 'It's not his fault he's hungry. Poor thing. Look at him. So pathetic. He's half-starved, that's all. Desperate and weak. Serves him right I say! A foolish errand indeed to undertake, especially since no one asked him to.'

The beast rose in response to her words, climbing onto its meaty paws then plodded over to where the girl was standing. Leos thought it looked almost sheepishly as it drew near her. Its large bulk was totally dwarfing the child as it approached, but the girl seemed unfazed by it. It circled around then came to a rest by her side, head lowered slightly. Lyanna moved a tiny hand out towards the creature which made Leos cry out in fear.

'Careful Lyanna. Who knows what that thing will do.' he hissed.

The beast snapped its head over and locked eyes with his, growling dangerously. Leos's heart leapt in fear, but the young Hibernian simply rolled her eyes then swatted its nose, telling him to stop it. The man thought his friend was about to be swallowed whole by the beast, but instead of violence the creature stopped growling and returned its gaze to the ground. She placed her hand its head and began stroking it slowly.

'Oh, leave Argoed alone will you. He said he was sorry.'

Leos was gobsmacked at her response and stood speechless for a time before replying.

'Argoed? You know this beast?' The disbelief was evident in his voice. How could she know this monster?

'Well of course I do you fool. Argoed is my Ennir, my Life Guardian. He's been with me from birth. For better or worse. It's traditional for every...Never mind.' She stopped herself before finishing. Leos moved closer to them both like a frightened child, now he was the cautious animal that approached.

'What do you mean?' he asked nervously, but the girl didn't reply and continued stroking the beast.

Argoed raised his massive canine head slightly and looked at her, Leos couldn't help but notice the fierce intelligence held behind its oval eyes. Clearly this pet of hers was more than just a wild animal he'd mistook it for.

'No, I haven't. And why should I anyway. What difference would it make!' she said quietly. Again, Leos was confused, unsure of her meaning.

'I'm sorry, what did you say?' he asked, but she did not answer. It wasn't until the beast nudged her with the end of his wet nose did she speak.

'No!' she said sharply, but the creature persisted. Nudging her with enough force to make her take a step to keep balance.

'I said no. I don't need to tell him.' she whispered.

'Tell me what, Lyanna?'

'It's nothing.' she replied firmly. The beast let out a gentle rumbling from its mouth that sounded like it was amused.

'Stop being such a know it all.' she said crossly.

Leos's gaze passed slowly from girl to beast as he finally realised.

'Are you talking to that thing?' he queried. Lyanna huffed.

'Argoed is not a thing, Leos. He is a Snow Lion. Granted a rather dishevelled and slightly smelly Snow Lion, but a Lion all the same.'

The creature gave a short growl in response, seemingly offended by the remark. Lyanna smirked.

'Well you are!' she said mockingly. A sly grin spread onto her Pixie face.

'But you're talking to him, right? I mean, how is that possible?' asked Leos. Lyanna groaned, tired of all the questioning, but decided to explain.

'It's said his race was once favoured by the twin daughters of Tumarr, and as such granted with the gift of speech through one's mind. That way the twins could engage with them secretly whenever they wanted.'

Leos scratched his head as he tried to make sense of it.

'So, it can talk?'

'Yes Leos, he can talk. But only to me. In my mind. That's part of the bond we share. Only I can hear his thoughts, and him mine.'

'So why doesn't everyone have one of these, Snow Lions.' he asked, waving a finger at the beast.

The girl waited a moment before answering, gathering her thoughts. Again, the giant lion nudged the girl slightly to proceed. She drew a long breath before speaking.

'Because it is a gift bestowed upon those of Royal blood. That's why they are so few. A cherished gift left to us by the Gods before their parting.'

The man's face softened considerably.

'Lyanna what are you saying? Are you some kind of-'

'I'm tired.' she snapped, before changing the subject.

'The storm's much too heavy for us to proceed. We'll have to wait until morning before moving.'

She turned to leave, despite Leos's persistence for answers, and bade him good night. The hairy beast shifted its enormous bulk to follow her, fixing Leos with another dangerous look before leaving.

The heavy thumps of walking paws echoed softly around the cave as the pair disappeared into darkness once more. Leaving the man standing amongst the dull embers of the now dwindling fire, with nothing but a mind full of puzzled thoughts for company.

D.R. Hurley

Nineteen

' _I have something to show you, Nikita.'_

' _What is it, momma?'_

' _Something very special. I've kept it safe for a long time. Would you like to see it?'_

The young doe sat up from her bed and watched keenly as her mother removed a tiny object from the folds of her cloak. She gently took the youth's paw and carefully placed a ring onto her palm.

The doe's eyes grew large as she regarded the object. It was fashioned from two bands of woven bronze and bore a string of rosewood jewels across its twisting surface.

' _Your father gave that to me. On the day you were born. Said he chose it as a symbol of our eternal love. I want you to have it.'_

The doe cradled the ring in both hands and brought it near.

' _It's beautiful.' she said softly. The mother looked down on her child and smiled._

She placed a clawed hand on her shoulder and look into her brown eyes.

'Look after it dearly, my sweet little, Nikita. And remember. No matter what happens, your parents will always love you.'

'I will, momma...'

Nikita lay quietly on her bed staring at the ceiling. Her feline eyes glazed over as she lost focus on reality and recalled the past. The memories of a life once cherished now seemed painfully distant and obscure. She struggled to remember anything of her parents these days, particularly her father.

To think the only resemblance of family she had left was her cowardly uncle made her deeply upset. The one who chose willingly to forego his oath and desert his sister when she needed him most filled her heart with rage. What' s more, he had the audacity to choose her as his own charge. It was an insult beyond compare.

She cast any thoughts of the fool from her mind and tried to calm down. Thumbing the bronze ring on her middle finger as she waited in the dark, and tried to think of her childhood home instead. The precious band she wore provided a surprising amount of comfort when touched. Perhaps she felt it was the last real connection she had to her parents?

Eventually, the doe came back to the world and decided it was time. Satisfied the night had grown old enough for her to leave. The treacherous twin moons of planet Kargos would soon give way to the rising sun. And by that time Nikita hoped to be far from the confines of her former life, and her oppressive uncle.

It seemed fitting that she would start her new life on the eve of her nineteenth year. As day broke, she would step into the light of the new day an adult, and never again let her life be decided for her. She would live as she wanted to and make her own path. Not tread on those laid down by family long past.

Moving silently amongst the cramped confines of her living quarters, Nikita prepared herself for the journey ahead. Stowing a small stash of coins into her travel bag along with a few other meagre supplies, a length of rope and some dried food. Finally, the doe reached for the sacred halberd mounted on the wall, yet her hand stayed from clasping it.

The ceremonial blade was given to her by her uncle upon graduating into the Long Furs. It was a symbol of her status as an acolyte that had been a part of her life for many years. But for a moment she considered leaving it behind. A final message of defiance to her uncle. The thought lasted little more than a few moments. She would need protection on the lonely road ahead.

Nikita took hold of the weapon then slung the leather bag onto her shoulder. Without another thought given, she crept out of the stone house, which had been her home for the last ten summers, and slipped quietly into the night. The world outside was blissfully dark, since the twin moons lay hidden under a blanketed sky. A good omen. She did not want the lap dogs of Tumarr watching her movements.

The settlement was also silent. No sound could be heard. Save for the occasional rustle of leaves brushed gently by the cool breeze, and the chatter of insects. But caution pressed her to stay off the open tracks, just in case. Though there was little to fear.

Few were awake at this ungodly hour. The occasional sentry posed only the slightest of concerns, since she knew how to avoid them. The doe had spent many long nights patrolling the same routes and was confident her senses were keen enough to detect them first.

Her feline eyes easily cut through the darkness as if it was daylight. A skill she knew would pose little advantage amongst her people, since all shared it.

She continued to move silently. Sticking to the cluttered housing areas, she snaked back and forth in a zigzag pattern between the stone buildings. Nikita quickly made her way down to the eastern fringes of Nyatti without too much trouble. She was fortunate her settlement was built amidst the low land area of the Namoleon Belt. Sighted perfectly between the rocky slopes and roving forests, it afforded her the luxury of using the woodland trees to cover most areas without detection.

The Belt itself comprised of an endless sea of towering rocks sprouting high out of the ground, which formed an impassable labyrinth around the entire nation of Trian. Legend says it was created by the Tyrant Belthor. For it was he, who brought up the stone from beneath the earth to seal away the creature Slarr from the rest of the world. The ultimate punishment for his crimes against the Tumarr family. And forever confining the deity to a life of eternal solitude.

Leaping high into the canopy, Nikita waited patiently as another guard came slowly into view. Safe amongst the rustling branches, the doe held her breath as a young male passed disinterestedly. She could tell from the lose grip of his glaive and his lacklustre amble the youth's mind was likely more focused on sleep then maintaining a diligent role. Still, she remained focused, ignoring the temptation to flick an annoying bug off her brown fur until the guard had safely passed.

She travelled swiftly in the night, moving like a ghost. Leaping from branch to branch without a sound, until the trees parted again, and was forced to go back down to the ground.

Landing silently amongst an allotment of sprouting Nevinroot, Nikita carefully picked her way through the tiny clusters of beige stalks puncturing the ground. She didn't want to risk stepping on any. The local delicacy secreted a poisonous substance across its skin, that had to be cooked for several hours to ensure it was safe to consume. One false step would see her dreams of a new life prematurely end.

She spared a word of thanks to mighty Slarr upon leaving the garden, then hurried on towards the edge of the town, and the growing shadow of the eastern gate. The massive wall which enclosed her settlement from the rest of the world grew larger with ever step, and quickly dominated her view. She pressed herself against the wall's surface and detected a faint tremor of movement from the patrolling guards above. She knew that to go through the gate meant capture, so decided to head south towards the squat form of a watermill ahead in the distance.

She traversed the great wall to keep out of view. It wasn't long before the sound of gushing water and the creaking of wood filled her ears.

The Old Mill, as it was known, was a huge building, tall and square. Its thatched roof offered a steep pitch, so typical of Trian design, but was certainly climbable. At least she hoped!

The enormous wheel, bolted to its side, creaked noisily as it turned, meandering slowly as the sloshing water fell endlessly from its blades. The stream curved around the mill and disappeared through a tunnel at the walls base. The tunnel itself was barred either side with thick iron rods, making it impossible to escape through.

Nikita kept a safe distance from the structure, choosing to hide behind a pile of wooden barrels until it was safe. Her tail twitched nervously as she scanned for life.

This is it, she thought to herself, there's no going back now!

She raised her pointed nose to the wind and sniffed the air, exposing sharp canine teeth. There was nobody about. She fixed her weapon tighter across her back then whispered a prayer to Slarr.

'By the All Fathers will, guide my path, Oh Great One.'

Nikita drew a deep breath and focused her mind. A moment later the doe sprinted across the open ground and leapt hard. Her powerful legs sent her high into the air with practised ease and onto the slippery water wheel. A clawed hand dug deep into the wheel's wooden blades, whist her feet scrambled from purchase. It brought her higher with each passing second, until she was able to stand at the apex. Another leap propelled her onto the building's roof, some three stories up, where she began to climb up the knotted lengths of thatched reed. The squeaking wheel and tumbling water masked her ascent from those sleeping inside.

Her long snout twitched rapidly as she smelled the air. Nikita peered over the ridgeline with frightened eyes and scanned the wall. She was much higher now and could see into the parapet. Creeping carefully across the hipped roof, she continued to scan. A lone sentry patrolled some ways ahead bearing a torch. A long spear rested idly against his shoulder.

She thumbed the bronze ring on her middle finger subconsciously whilst weighing up her options, and guessed the sentry was a good fifty paces away. Far too close to risk the jump. She would have to wait for him to pass.

The clouded sky finally parted, and the twin moons shone through in all their eerie glory, illuminating her homeland.

Nikita turned and saw the silver orbs drift silently above the Namoleon Belt's distant peaks, and sneered in disgust. Not even the mighty wall of rock could block out the moons' ever watchful eye. She shuddered as the silver light wash over her. The Maidens' glow was treacherous and not to be trusted. An ethereal gaze sent forth by Father Tumarr to spy on Slarr's children for all eternity, and bring ruin to their lives.

The doe ground her teeth, cursing her luck, then brought her attention back. The baleful light gave life to the valley below and the endless forest sweeping out beyond the confines of the wall.

Foolish children, she thought darkly to herself, your meddling presence merely aids my task!

She found the river and tracked its path east towards the sea and her destination. The port of Klayco. She had plenty of coins to barter a trip down to the coastal town via an airship. It was the fastest way to travel in Trian and the most common since the natural landscape was incredibly difficult to navigate, with very few roads.

Ancorrin was the closest dock she could make, and only a few days travel along the river. Despite its small size, many ships flew in and out of the town daily, so it seemed logical to head there next. But first, she had to deal with the small matter of the wall. Her attention returned to the task at hand.

The guard had moved on, far enough for him not to notice a figure leap through the sky and onto the wall. Nikita froze upon landing and held her breath. Time passed without sound.

So far so good. she thought, rising cautiously.

She peered over the great walls lip and scanned the valley below. The embankment was dangerously rocky, as to be expected, but skirted close to the river. The forest lay just beyond and would conceal her journey.

Quietly, she climbed over. The wall had been made decades before and thankfully its stone surface made it easy to find purchase amongst the various blocks. She kept her tail wrapped tight around her body, so not to unbalance as her sharp claws jammed into cracks. Her descent was painfully slow, but at least she remained undetected, and tried to stay focused.

Suddenly, a foot slipped as a broken shard of stone came free. Cold air raced past the doe's ears as she fell. Nikita's eyes widened in terror as she frantically fought for purchase, but her claws scraped painfully across stone as she slid faster and faster. She sensed the ground rise rapidly to meet her and knew in that instant she would soon meet her maker.

In an act of desperation, she kicked hard off the wall and away from the rocky embankment. The doe sailed through the air and straight into the icy clutches of the flowing river.

The water was far deeper than she realised, and caught her safely. Her body twisted and tumbled in the depths as the freezing current dragged her under. Her fur protected her from the worst of the river's icy bite. But it pulled her into chunks of submerged stone, battering her into them with no remorse.

She tried to make for the surface, but the tremendous flow held her down. The rapid thump in her chest grew stronger as the air in her lungs burned away.

Chance seemed again to favour the doe as finally the river's anger seemed to ease, and she lifted to the surface. She gasped desperately for air before disappearing again, the river's spirit was not ready to release her just yet.

Eventually she broke free as the turbulent waters subsided and she was able to stay above water long enough to catch her breath. A large rock stuck out of the river which she used to break out of the flow and into the calm eddy behind.

Clinging to its smooth surface, a shivering and sodden wreck, she found herself to be some distance away from the town and in the cover of the overhanging trees once more. Though she could not reach dry land since both sides of the riverbank were a sheet of rock and much too high to scale.

She looked back to the wall and could see several torches converge on the place where she fell. But the sound of rushing water masked their voices and she couldn't tell if they were shouting alerts or still unawares. Judging from their slow movement, they probably thought it was just another rockslide that caused the splash. Hopefully!

Her sodden face snarled in anger, as a glint of silver light broke through the branches to illuminate her position.

'Curse you and all your kin for the rest of your days, meddler of ways!' she hissed bitterly towards the moons, spitting a wad of phlegm into the water.

'They can't see me from here, so turn your gaze elsewhere.'

Trians weren't known for their love of water and Nikita especially hated getting wet. Yet since their land held many treacherous rivers, all were schooled in the arts of water navigation from an early age. Despite her resentment for the situation, Nikita new it mattered little. She was in the clear and could begin her long trip down to Ancorrin safely.

She stilled her temper and set her mind the task of escaping the river. Withdrawing the awkward weapon from her back, she let go of the rock and allowed herself to be swept away by the flow once more. The doe lay on her back with her feet first, to try and conserve as much energy as possible. She didn't have to swim, the current would take her where she needed, and quickly made her way down stream holding the halberd in line with her body. The weapon was surprisingly buoyant, despite its weight, and helped her stay afloat. After a while the river widened and begun to slow. Its banks were still a wall of sheer rock, making it impossible to climb, yet she need to get out.

Nikita searched the treeline ahead, and noted a protruding branch hanging over the cliff face, just after the next bend. Its mass was of considerable size, large enough she presumed to support her weight.

Quickly, she summoned a crackling ball of green energy from her clawed hand and cast it towards the immediate treeline. The explosion caused several trunks to tumble down, dangerously close to her position. Nikita gasped after narrowly avoiding being crushed by a rolling beam, then swam towards the largest one, climbing onto its slippery surface as quickly as she could.

Without pausing, she removed the length of rope from her bag and hastily fastened it to her halberd. Her clawed feet dug hard into the floating trunk as she slowly rised. The undulating current made it difficult to stay balanced, but she wouldn't need long. Nikita watched patiently as the fallen tree approached and readied her mind.

A moment later she threw the blade with all her might and let go of the rope. The weapon sailed through the air with rope in toe, then disappeared inside the nest of hanging branches. A scattering of leaves indicated the blade had stuck fast which was all she could afford before missing her chance. Nikita leapt hard as her makeshift raft passed underneath. She reached for the swinging rope and thankfully grabbed hold with a cry of relief. Her dripping form swung back and forth above river to the sound of creaking wood, but the weapon held true and slowly she began the arduous task of climbing.

Nikita spoke words of thanks to the All Father as she climbed, hoping her blessed deity would prevent her from falling. Fortunately, the blade held long enough for her to reach the safety of the tree, where she pulled her frozen body up onto the trunk, and lay slumped across its hard surface, painting hard from the exertion.

Her ribbed tail dangled limply from the branch as she gave one last word of thanks to mighty Slarr.

*****

The night air was chill, yet full of promise. Dawn was soon to rise, and with it the beginnings of a new day, and new life beyond.

Nikita's wet form shuffled painfully along the dusty trail as she trudged slowly through the forest towards Ancorrin. Her limp tail lay still as she dragged it across the ground as the first rays of light crept into the land. Despite all her hardship, the mind of the doe was set firm and looked eagerly to the future with renewed purpose.

Her life was hers now. And she embraced it eagerly.

D.R. Hurley

Twenty

'Why am I sitting here Inspector? Shouldn't you be scurrying around following leads back in Jyonti? Trying to locate our missing Prince? Not fooling about pestering me. His lordship's whereabouts are still unknown and as for the traitor, well. I needn't have to remind you about the importance of locating him, do I?'

'Indeed you don't, Inspector. I assure you the matter is our highest priority and we have dedicated all our resources to finding him.' replied Inspector Baxi as politely as he could.

He reached for his cup of spiced coffee with a hint of a smile creeping onto his wrinkled face and took a small sip of the dark liquid. The brew's spicy aroma warmed his mouth pleasingly, even though the liquor had gone cool.

The two men sat outside an old tavern that Baxi often frequented in, located close to Bangarrow square. The day was still young. Belthor had only just begun his climb into the sky, yet the streets were already crammed full of people going about their daily business. The soothing effects of Fogberry juice he'd taken earlier were already beginning to fade. It wouldn't be long before he needed another draft.

The morning rays cast a gentle warmth upon Baxi's bald head, which the Inspector found most pleasing, and helped to ease his anxiety. Once again, his eyes flashed briefly towards the shadowy recesses of the street's architecture, scanning for any malign presence lurking amongst the rooftops. His mind was clearly rattled after his last episode in this area, having reached out several times already with his feelings before his colleague's arrival. And probably why he felt compelled to bring an ogre along with him. Just to be safe. He'd ordered the hulking brute to remain a short distance away, mainly because of the smell.

'Now tell me, Baxi, what troubles you? My time is frightfully short, and the Emperor has inundated me with a countless number of duties that I simply must fulfil. I really don't have time to spend chatting away on foolish matters.'

'Are you implying the Prince's life is unimportant?' asked Baxi. He placed his cup back onto the wooden table and sat back in his chair, resting his locked fingers across his lap.

'You know that's not what I meant. Now hurry up man, out with it. What is it you want?'

Baxi noticed the man's face wobbled irritably as he spoke and did his best to suppress a shudder.

'Well, Mr. Sarsso, I just wondered what prompted you to leave the investigation on such short notice. It seems a little strange to me that the Empire's most, senior Inspector, should be reassigned from a high-profile case at the last minute. Don't you think?'

The man opposite stared blankly for a moment as he tried to understand Baxi's meaning. Then slowly, Inspector Sarsso began to chuckle.

'You're talking about the Prince's kidnapping?' he said with a smirk, 'you want to know why I was reassigned? Is that the reason for your prolonged stay in our capital? To question me?'

The obese Inspector broke into a bout of hearty laughter that jiggled his swollen gut profusely beneath his already straining clothes.

'Am I to assume, that I am now a suspect?' he said while chuckling. Baxi sighed deeply.

'I'm glad to see my question amuses you.'

'Oh my dear friend please forgive me, I don't mean to be rude,' replied Sarsso, wiping a tear from his eye. Baxi's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the man's reaction.

'Yet I'm afraid to say you are, Inspector.' he said calmly. Sarsso regained his composure and stuffed an iced pastry into his mouth.

'Why in Jakkaro's name would it even matter? It doesn't concern you. If anything, you should be glad of it! I have been summoned to attend the personal needs of the High Council at the Emperor's request. And you sir, have been given the chance, by my hand, to impress our great leader beyond reasoning. Success in this will grant incredible fortune and position for you.'

He continued to laugh whilst chewing, until a deep rumble cut through the air, making him pause. Sarsso's gaze became locked on the towering figure standing behind Baxi as the ogre moved its enormous bulk closer, crossing its trunk like arms. Its ugly face twisted into a snarl of resentment. Baxi noted the change in colour of Sarssos's face and tried to disguise his amusement.

'A fact I am most grateful of, believe me. Yet, one cannot be judged negatively for wondering why you were removed. The question still stands.'

Inspector Sarsso looked at his colleague curiously for a moment before answering.

'Who knows?' he said after a while, 'I am but a humble servant of the Empire and will go as directed. Perhaps my reputation merely proceeds me.' His comment drew a grunt of acceptance from Baxi.

'I'd like to ask a few more questions about your progress with the case if you don't mind.' Again, the Inspector remained silent for several moments as if trying to guess his colleague's intent. His eyes moved back towards the hulking shadow that still glared at him disapprovingly.

'Sounds serious. Is that the reason for bringing that numbskull along with you? To make sure I would comply. Or are you expecting trouble?' Now it was Baxi's turn to look surprised.

'Who Brutus? Oh no Inspector please, you've got me all wrong. I'm merely letting the poor fellow get a bit air. He wanted to come along so badly, and you know how our colleagues like to get out and about from time to time. They get so bored in the dungeons, you know. It's good for them to see the world.'

'How noble. But it's not the kind of charity I'd expect from you.' replied Sarsso dryly, still not taking his eyes off Brutus. Baxi shrugged.

'What can I say? Recent events have changed my opinion. But, back to my question. My intent is to merely gather as much information about the traitor Leos as possible. And since you were the first person to read him, I'd hoped you might have uncovered something of importance I might have missed. Our time together was much too short for me to complete my interrogation, due to his rather, untimely departure from confinement.'

'Ah yes. The escape which led to the death of several enforcers. Damn sloppy! I am well aware of the incident, Inspector. Yet still unable to believe it could have happened.'

'We are still looking into that. So far, the only viable option is that he had inside help, though I don't know from whom.'

'Impossible,' snapped Sarsso, 'preposterous! It's about as feasible as those outlandish reports of floating wraiths.'

'Something else I'd hoped you could shed some light on actually.'

'What in Tumarr are you talking about?'

Baxi learned closer and kept his voice low.

'You interviewed him first. Spoke to him at length. Was there anything he'd said which might indicate his whereabouts now? Anything at all.'

'No, of course not. Otherwise I would have documented it.'

'What about the floating wraiths? Did you find reference to them?

'Belthor's teeth! Floating wraiths again. Are you mad?'

'Maybe,' replied Baxi with a wry look, 'it matters not. A final thing then if I may. When you looked into the traitor's mind, did you see anything regarding an orphanage?' The man opposite said nothing.

Baxi reached for the lukewarm coffee and began to sip slowly. In the briefest moment he stopped after detecting the faintest flash of emotions slip from his colleague's otherwise guarded feelings. He pretended to ignore the sensation and set his cup down calmly. It may only have been a flicker, but still intriguing. Baxi's eyes moved back over to Sarssos and found he was already looking at him.

'You've read the report, haven't you? Then there is nothing more for me to say.' he said coolly.

'Maybe you saw something, yet didn't think it was relevant. Chose to leave it out?'

'I left nothing out, Inspector.'

'You're sure?'

'Quite sure!' replied Sarsso, more than a little sternly, 'I don't see how any of this could possibly be of any relevance.'

'It's nothing really. Just a theory brought on by an old case I noticed.'

'What case?' Sarsso enquired.

'Child abduction. From an orphanage here in the capital. This man may have been involved.'

Once again Baxi sensed another tremor of feelings slipping out from Sarsso. He held the Inspector's gaze a while before there was an answer.

'And you think this important? Baxi please, there are dozens of orphanages scattered across the Empire. Who cares if this man came from one of them?' Baxi smiled whilst nodding.

'You are probably right, Inspector. I'm sure it's not important.'

It was then Sarsso hoisted his swollen body up from the chunky wooden table and scattered a few coins by his cup, ending the meeting.

'Well Baxi, it's been, amusing to say the least. And now if you don't mind, I shall be on my way, I'm already behind schedule and there are matters which require my urgent attention.'

'You are right, Inspector, of course. I am sorry to have kept you. Please forgive me and thank you for your time.'

Baxi rose from his chair and gave a short bow. Inspector Sarsso regarded him one last time then grabbed another pastry before squeezing into the mass of crowded people.

Baxi watched the man disappear, then sat back down. For a while he remained silent as his thoughts drew inward. His bony fingers moved slowly over the stubble on his chin, rubbing it gently as he replayed the conversation in his head.

Dozens of orphanages.

Scattered.

The remark became lodged in his mind. There was something not quite right about his colleague which intrigued him.

Orphanages.

Nobody cares.

He slapped the table suddenly then leapt from his chair, making the ogre to flinch.

'Brutus, follow me. We must go at once!'

*****

The oppressive sound of slamming doors, ricocheted frantically throughout the vaulted ceilings of enforcer archives, drawing dozens of disapproving sneers towards the direction of the building's newest arrivals.

Inspector Baxi froze instantly, his dark eyes widened. He slowly turned his gaze back with an eyebrow raised, ignoring the stream of angry eyes boring into his skull, and shook his head disapprovingly at his colleagues, heavy handed nature.

Moron! Next time he'll go first.

Obviously, he had hoped for a rather less noticeable entry, but ultimately expected nothing less from the towering dim wit who was smiling naively at him. Baxi had feared the ogre's presence would cause nothing but trouble. But the pressing needs of his investigation meant he had little time to escort the brute halfway across the city to Enforcer Lodge. And he could not simply allow the beast to wander the streets alone with hopes of it making it back by himself. Ogres were far too incompetent to be left running around unattended. They have been known to get themselves into trouble on many occasions. Trying to take the law into their hands at inopportune moments.

The Inspector cleared his throat, then quietly made his way over towards the front desk, located in the centre of the room. His leather boots squeaked annoyingly on the polished floor of deepest green, further adding to his discomfort.

Striding past rows of dark walnut aisles, Baxi marvelled at the amount of information they must contain. Each of them was crammed full of endless files and reports. A forest worth of paper contained within a single building.

Brutus clumped steadily behind his new boss, grinning proudly. The ogre was overjoyed at the prospect of proving himself a worthy asset to this man, and more than ready to carry out any task required. He stopped directly behind the Inspector and awaited his first assignment, taking the time to straighten his gaping leather vest. The buttons had long since been ripped free. It wouldn't be long now.

Baxi took another step forward to avoid the steady blast of warm breath beating down upon his bald head and rang the desk bell.

As the pair waited patiently for the attendant to arrive, Baxi began delicately rubbing his bony fingers across the grey stone desk. His hand glided softly back and forth its chilled surface several times, attracting the attention of the ogre.

Brutus found the graceful movements quite hypnotic and began swaying his head in time with the simple action. A thick line of drool trickled down the ogre's chin as he became mesmerised, and landed on the Inspector's shoulder.

Baxi paused, his body now rigid. His gaze shifted painful to his side and saw a large blob of moisture, running down his coat. The man huffed sharply, then pressed the brass bell a second time. Its chime echoed feverishly throughout the building, but nobody stirred.

He removed a silk handkerchief from his waistcoat and began to wipe himself clean as he waited, feeling his temper rise. Another wad of drool fell onto his opposite shoulder.

Baxi's eyes stared fiercely into the stone desk for several moments, as he cursed under his breath. He struck the bell twice more, drawing further looks of disgust, then continued to dry himself.

A gigantic hand flew past his head not long after, and slammed down onto the bell, cracking the stone desk. Baxi dragged a hand down his face and groaned.

Blessed mother, please give me strength to proceed...

The crisp echo of heeled shoes striding across the room filled his ears, commanding his attention.

'What in Tumarr's name in the meaning of this?' a red faced attendant hissed as she hurried towards the desk. Her brown eyes blazed with fire at the sight of Brutus, and the damaged desk.

'We do not accommodate ogres in this establishment, sir. You must remove it from the building at once, or you shall be forced to leave.' she said angrily.

Baxi raised a hand, trying to defuse the situation, and pulled out his identification papers from his coat.

'Inspector Baxi, Jyonti District Enforcer. I'm sorry for the disturbance, but I've come here on official state business in the Emperor's name. This, gentlemen, is a key witness in my investigation. Please, I need to locate some information that is vital to this man's statement.'

The woman's gaze passed slowly between Baxi and the hulking ogre sceptically. Brutus smiled back in response, revealing a mouth full of blackened stumps. Another blob of moisture fell onto Baxi's coat, drawing a sneer of revulsion from the attendant as she recoiled.

'Please, it is imperative I see all the case files for the capital over the last decade. No, better make that two decades.'

'This is most irregular, Inspector-'

'Please, dear lady. My work is vital to the success of ensuring our nation's future. The Emperor himself commands me!'

The attendant raised an eyebrow. For a while it seemed she was going to deny him access. Fortunately, she nodded, and pointed towards the aisles behind.

'Bangarrow archives are located there. What crime do you require, Inspector?' she asked.

'Child abduction.'

'I see. Well then, you'd best follow me, and do try to be quiet. This is a place of research and study.' she said looking at Brutus. Baxi assured her they would be respectful.

The pair were then led across the room towards an aisle marked with the Gildane family crest on its end.

'Everything here is kept in a strict order,' she said sternly as they walked along the seemingly endless aisles, 'and everything has been meticulously categorised alphabetically. Every file taken must be put back in its exact place, and no documents are to be withdrawn from the premises unless written authorisation is provided. Is that clear?' Baxi nodded.

'Understood. But that won't be necessary. We just need to clarify some facts.'

The woman said nothing more as they continued along. Baxi had seldom come to the archives in his career, but on those rare occasions he was always left in awe of the sheer mass of store information on hand. This occasion being no different.

'Up there, third row. I will call for a ladder.'

'Oh no, please. That won't be necessary. Thank you, madam. You have been most helpful.' replied Baxi. He gave a short bow in appreciation, to which the ogre stupidly copied. Though he didn't fully understand it's meaning. Baxi jabbed him in the thigh when she wasn't looking, then told the ogre to retrieve the box full of files.

Brutus's reach was long, making the files easy to retrieve. Although it took him several attempts to select the correct box. A pile of them lay stacked on the floor by the time he was finished. Baxi sifted through the container while his colleague began replacing the others. It wasn't long before he found the file he was searching for. A report titled Mostin abduction.

His eyes darted quickly over the document as he absorbed its contents, hoping to find some discrepancy from the other back in his office. Yet to his disappointment he found it to be the same. Baxi put the report back then decided to flick through the remainder of the box's contents. There were dozens of cases he'd never heard of, some dating back decades. Curiously, there was one report that did stand out which he promptly removed.

The Anstall Orphanage Abduction.

Baxi opened the folder and began to read. The case was similar in comparison to the Mostin incident, taking place six years prior. Several children of a similar age were taken in the night. No witnesses ever came forward and the investigation collapsed, leaving it unsolved.

Baxi kept the file then searched the box again. He soon found another.

The Ironhall Abduction.

It was dated three years after Mostin. Baxi couldn't believe it. Surely it wasn't a coincidence.

The sound of squeaking boots once again filled the room as the Inspector quickly walked back towards the attendant with the files in hand.

'I need to see the Jyonti district files please.' he said curtly whilst laying the documents on her desk.

'What crime?' the lady said with obvious reluctance.

'Child abduction.'

She sighed then asked him to follow. This time she led him to an aisle bearing the emblem of Jyonti. Again, it wasn't long before the correct box was located but this time Baxi asked the attendant to stay, despite her objections. He grabbed the first file and checked the date.

'I need a map, right now. Do you have anything highlighting all the districts in Cowldonia?' he asked hastily.

'Why yes of course but-'

'Please madam, I need it immediately. Some parchment also. Brutus. Take that container and the one from before, over to that table. We have work to do.' he said whilst disappearing down the next aisle.

D.R. Hurley

Twenty One

The harsh, windswept lands covering Tantam's snowy region blew hard against the round cheeks of a Hibernian, sitting quietly amidst the rush of freezing air, apparently unfazed as the bitter winds turned her blue skin a soft shade of purple.

Lyanna had perched herself on top of the creature, Argoed, for the first time in what seemed like an age. The great snow beast was standing before a cliff at the cave's rear, where it proudly surveyed the valley below with keen eyes. It should have been a joyous and momentous occasion, to be reunited again. And yet, there was no happiness to be felt.

Uninterested in the beautiful winter landscape laid out in front of her, the girl's wandering gaze lost focus on the frozen tundra as she became consumed with mixed feelings of guilt and sadness.

She sat silently for a time upon her oversized mount. The girl's fiery long hair was loose and blew wildly in the morning breeze, as the cold winds harassed it mercilessly. She chose not to fix it in her usual way this morning, a ponytail over her right ear. Instead the girl chose to leave it down, allowing her thick locks to fall freely as the wind continued to tug at it. A feeling which she found to be relatively pleasing, although not nearly enough to lift her gloomy mood.

A delicate chin came to rest upon petite hands as she leaned forward on the snow lion's back. Argoed could not see the glazed look of sadness cast in her emerald eyes, perhaps so deep even the jesters of Parc Adull could not break. One would think the entire world balanced on her little shoulders.

Lyanna's eyes drifted down into the snow-covered valley below. A place once ruled over by the Darnto family for over millennia. Now left in the hands of those of a much lesser calibre. The snowy hills and powder-white trees began to shimmer and blur as she lost focus on reality once again. Her thoughts drifted back to a time filled with love and laughter, something that now seem so distant. She wondered if it was ever real.

What troubles your heart, Sulun? I sense a great sadness in you.

The kind words of a noble voice echoed calmly inside her mind as Argoed spoke to her. The words came as a surprise at first, but quickly became familiar. They wrenched the girl back into the present moment.

Are you not pleased to see your homeland again?

Lyanna drew a long, slow breath and sighed deeply before answering.

'It's been so long Argoed. So long. And yet, the sight of these lands still fills my heart with woe.'

You are still troubled by the past, little one? Is that not why you have returned? To face your, demons?

'No, my friend, it is not. My coming here was not entirely through choice. If I had my way, I would still be a hundred leagues from here. But regardless of the cause, there is but one thing I am glad. To be reunited with my Ennir warms my heart. I have missed you so much.'

The girl leaned forward to embrace the hairy beast's back.

Your presence brings much joy to me also, Sulun. For I have missed you dearly. The years since your departure have been long, and arduous. Life in the wild is hard, and I have spent much of my time alone wandering the mountains, often faced with starvation. I was coming to think perhaps, I would find my end out here.

Lyanna chuckled softly to herself.

'Ah yes, I remember now. Your little vow. Never to return unless it was by my side. So noble and valiant. But pointless. Foolish even! It served nothing. But at least you kept your word, I suppose. I've never seen such a shaggy and unkempt mess. Your fur is filthy and smells of damp too. I bet you haven't bathed in ages.'

She ruffled his long fur with her hand as she spoke. Argoed chose not to reply to the jibe with words but showed his disapproval with a deep grow that rumbled slowly.

Enough of this nonsense, Sulun! Please tell me. I still know not the reason for your sudden return. If not born from duty, then what?

Lyanna didn't answer and remained quiet, but Argoed persisted and pressed the matter further.

What trouble are you in? Is it to do with that Cowldonian male? Is he the reason why you have come? Why are you travelling with him? Please tell me you're not courting him. The girl scoffed at his words.

'No, of course not. Whatever would make you think that!'

Then what purpose does he serve? I'd thought you'd know better than to associate with a son born in the west.

'I see your love for the Empire is just as strong.' she said with a wry smile. Argoed snorted sharply.

My caution stems for good reason. History has proved them devious and untrustworthy. The men of the west aspire only to rule and conquer. Nothing else matters to them. And besides, their scent is always so strange and, unfamiliar. It's not right. I never liked the way the western folk smell. This Cowldonian male is especially strange. His scent is, different from his kin. Like none before him. It sits ill with me. I don't like him.

The sheet of ice surrounding the girl's heart finally cracked. She laughed loudly to the wind.

'Oh, leave Leos alone, you old nag. He's not that bad. You don't even know him. Besides, you're the only one who smells around here.' she said, laughing all the more.

However, the joyous sound became all too brief and quickly faded as memories from the previous night's encounter came back.

'Actually,' she began, 'Leos is different. In a way that I've not encountered before.' The beast raised its head, sensing her unease.

As I thought, he said quickly, untrustworthy! Deceitful! Now what is it child tell me, what business do you have with him? The girl stammered for a moment as she tried to respond.

'I'm not sure what he is, I...

Is he a threat to you? the beast snapped.

'No, of course not.'

Is he dangerous?

'I don't think so, no.'

Then why is he here? Why is he with you?

'I...think...' she started but couldn't find the words.

Out with it, child! Now!

'I need to take him to Anthrea,' she blurted suddenly, much to Argoed's surprise, 'he must speak with Lord Ellious urgently.' Argoed's massive head snapped up.

A Cowldonian in the palace! Absolutely not! Out of the question. He replied angrily.

Not for a thousand years has the Empire stood before the Golden Throne without war on their lips. His presence will surely ruin us.

The beast snorted and shuffled his great mass around with a thump of heavy paws.

'Argoed stop, you're being childish. The Great War was over millennia ago, things have moved on. Relations between us and the Empire have long since strengthened and both nations trade happily together.' Argoed shook his head defiantly as the girl's words began to sink in and stopped his stomping.

'Please Argoed, we cannot make it alone. At least not in time. Will you not take us?' she asked desperately.

No, I will not. I do not trust him.

Lyanna continued to plead, but the creature wouldn't listen to reason. She realised if she wanted her friend to help, then she would have to tell him the truth.

'The Empire is about to start a war against Trian!' she said. Argoed froze on the spot, shocked by the news.

What madness do you speak?

'We have to go Argoed, before it's too late. Leos has information that is vital to preventing the war.'

What does he know?

'I cannot say for sure. It's something that must be seen on the Telling Stone. Lord Ellious must see. Please believe me. I would not ask unless it was urgent.'

The great beast stayed frozen for a while thinking. Finally, his massive head nodded slowly in agreement. Lyanna squealed happily and wrapped her arms tightly around his shaggy fur as she hugged him tightly.

The moment was short lived however as the creature's ears suddenly pricked up at the sound of approaching steps.

'Good morning.' said Leos casually from behind, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. The man's heart leapt in fear as the beast's head snapped around to look at him, bearing its fangs angrily.

'Easy boy, calm down. I'm sorry if I've interrupting something.' he said fearfully.

Argoed's eyes narrowed as he watched him approach. There was an obvious look of distrust etched upon his canine features. He growled deeply. Leos smiled nervously at the creature and kept his distance, fearful of being eaten. He saw the girl perched high upon the beast's shoulders and greeted her as well. She replied in her usual, chirpy manner, then told Argoed to settle down.

'Did you sleep well?' she asked, with genuine concern. But Leos responded only with a shrug of his shoulders and quickly changed the subject.

'So, what's our next move?' he asked, rubbing his hands together.

The girl smiled then raised her arm, pointing towards the distant cluster of mountains lining the horizon.

'There lies Anthrea, heart of Hibernia. Once we reach it, we will make for the Winter Palace, where Lord Ellious resides.' Leos's eyes squinted in the bright light.

'Will it take us long to reach the capital?' he asked with apparent unease. The thought of trudging through those snow fields again was deeply concerning.

'No, not long,' replied Lyanna, 'Argoed will guide us there before days light fades.'

Leos looked glumly as he considered the arduous trek that lay before him.

'I'll try to keep up.' he said, donning his gloves and google hat. However, his confidence was met with laughter as the girl chuckled loudly at his response.

'Such a child you are, it's so sweet,' she said mockingly, 'the night's snow is far too deep and fresh. It wouldn't have settled yet. You'd be up to your waist for most of the way, and likely freeze within the hour. I don't much fancy the thought of saving your carcass again.'

'How then?' replied Leos crossly. The girl's face split as a mischievous smile spread over her pixie-like features. She patted Argoed's back slowly, clearly enjoying the moment.

Leos backed away with hands raised in protest, fiercely voicing his objections, but his qualms were quickly silenced as the beast's hind legs suddenly fell to the ground with a heavy thud, abruptly ending the discussion.

'There's no way I'm getting on the giant flea bag!' he said sharply. His response sparked a dangerous growl from Argoed, but was promptly hushed by the girl.

'Yes, you are,' she replied calmly, 'or, I'll have Argoed eat you.'

Leos felt his heart leap as the beast suddenly lurched for him. Its wide jaw opened to reveal a wall of huge teeth.

'You wouldn't.' he said worriedly as the creature took another step closer. Leos noted the sudden feral look its eyes as he licked his teeth.

'Wouldn't I?' she said calmly, 'if you're not with me then you're really no good to me either, so may as well be gone. And besides, Argoed could do with a good meal, couldn't you Argoed.' The snow lion moved closer still and brought his head level with Leos's. A slow rumble issued from the beast.

'Alright, I'll do it!' he yelped as he felt a blast of hot breath wash over him.

Lyanna smiled then patted the back of Argoed's head, who quickly drew back from the man and sat down. The wild look now returned to one of calmed restraint.

Reluctantly, Leos made his way towards the shaggy monster, cursing under his breath. Gingerly, he clambered on, drawing a yelp of pain from the creature as he accidentally tugged loose a patch of fur.

'Be careful of my Ennir.'

'Apologies, I lost my grip.' he said quickly. Lyanna shook her head.

'Now hold on. It's just like riding a horse.' she said reassuringly, although Leos couldn't help feeling he was still being mocked.

'How would I know if I've ever ridden a horse before?' he muttered.

Perching himself behind the young woman, Leos felt incredibly anxious sitting upon the creature's back, but he was given no time to settle his nerves. As soon as he mounted, the massive snow lion turned on its haunches and galloped away.

Argoed bolted through the cave on thundering paws, dodging rocks and turning corners with astonishing ease. Leos ducked frantically to and fro as waves of stalactites frequently appeared out of the dark, threatening to remove his head if struck. Fortunately, the danger soon passed as the caves dull gloom gave way to dazzling white daylight.

The mighty beast leapt out into a great field of endless snow, trailing off in every direction. Leos pulled down his goggles and clung on for dear life. The sound of laughter filled his ears as Lyanna enjoyed the thrill of rushing speed, and her comrade's unease.

The night-time winds had sculpted the open landscape into an undulating carpet of powdered waves. Huge drifts of snow that had formed in the night lay untouched by the world. It was a terrain most travellers would struggle to conquer, but Argoed's speed never faltered. His powerful muscles drove him though the drifts easily, careening over the frozen peaks of Hibernia's land with apparent ease.

Leos gripped the Lyanna's waist tightly as he fought to stay on, unable to take shelter from the rushing wind that stung his checks. He looked ahead and saw they were quickly running out of ground. Lyanna sensed his concern and laughed all the more.

'Prepare yourself!' she yelled merrily as they drew dangerously close to the cliff's edge.

The swift pace continued, with no sign of stopping. Argoed reached the summit and leapt into the air with a roar, landing expertly on the sloping ground some distance away. They skidded down the mountain towards the valley's bottom at a rate of knots. Leos wailed as they rapidly descended the ever-increasing slope, wrapping himself tighter still around his companion.

The snow lion moved skilfully down the slope in a way only an animal of the wild could do. Staying clear of the loosest drifts so not to cause an avalanche. He darted around protruding rocks and random trees without pause and carried the pair safely down. After a short while the slope became less severe. It quickly tapered into a flatter surface, as they finally reached the bottom. Their path sent them into the valley, hugging alongside the Altenti River.

Argoed's stamina was unrelenting. He carried them both for hours without rest and stopped only briefly to drink from the Alenti's icy waters, much to the relief of Leos who desperately needed to stretch the stiffness in his legs. Before long they were off again. They journeyed out of the valley and beyond, pushing through clusters of thick trees and over yet more fields of white.

The sun's rays were already falling by mid-afternoon as Belthor began his descent towards the horizon's edge. Argoed had brought them far. As the sun lay close to setting, the great snow beast trudged into the foothills of Sharr, and stood before the huge mountain range with a sense of pride. There amongst the mass of towering rocks, could be seen a large cluster of buildings, and the end of their journey. Lyanna's face beamed with pride as she once again laid eyes upon the nation's capital.

'Behold, Anthrea, City of Kings.' she announced as they drew nearer to Hibernia's greatest city.

They came off the wild path and headed along the main trail leading up to the capital's entrance. Leos stared in awe as he took in the sheer scale of the place. A massive cluster of buildings stretched out for leagues in every direction. Rows upon rows of terracotta roofs swept far and wide, sitting proudly above brightly coloured houses of cyan and teal. Thick beams of redwood, lined doors and windows. Every one of them carved with the same golden lined patterns. Leos recognised the design from the buildings in Ostium and admired their intricacy. Huge fires burnt openly in the streets, bringing a spell of warmth and comfort to the bustling community.

A great trail of cobbled stone cut though the busy city, splitting it in two. Its path led straight up towards the largest building of all which dominated the surround area with its size and unquestionable beauty. Yarlik hall, home of the royal family and centre of Hibernia.

Leos breathed a sense of wonder upon seeing the domed palace and stared wide-eyed at the majestic structure. Even from this distance its beauty was evident.

Argoed walked slowly towards the magnificent building with his head held high, proud in the knowledge he had finally come home. At first, they passed by unnoticed, but the presence of this large and noble creature soon brought attention.

Within minutes, the blue-skinned people of Anthrea paused from their daily business to gaze upon the mighty beast. They whispered to one another, and shared gasps of shock. Children pointed in the street, unable to believe what they were witnessing.

Leos felt awkward at the rising number of people that stopped to watch and cautiously pulled the thick woollen collar of his jacket a little higher around his face, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the growing press of eyes falling upon them.

Every step of Argoed's massive paws brought more interest. The once noisy and bustling streets had fallen silent in a matter of moments, as all eyes turned to them. Everyone was watching now. Some even chose to follow, shuffling slowly behind as the trio continued to make their way towards the grounds of the palace.

'What's going on here Lyanna? What is this?' whispered Leos, as they made their way.

Lyanna shrank down, in an obvious attempt to hide herself from the growing crowd of onlookers. Her emerald eyes stayed low so not to make eye contact with anybody.

'I'm not sure. I'd hoped we'd slip by unnoticed.' she said quietly.

'Slip by? On top of this thing! Didn't you think we might stand out a bit?' hissed Leos.

Argoed turned his head back slightly towards them both and snorted. Leos was sure he'd spoken to Lyanna, but she wouldn't divulge when pressed. A short while later, the snow lion turned his head once again then grunted deeply, seemingly agitated. Lyanna became rigid and quickly shook her head, drawing further sounds from their mount.

'What is it?' asked Leos, 'what's he saying?'

The girl remained silent. In the end, the answer he sought came not from the lips of his child-like companion, but instead from within his own mind.

They stare in disbelief at what they see.

Leos sat bolt upright as the calm words suddenly echoed through his mind. His eyes widened behind the tinted lenses of his goggles as he looked sharply from side to side, trying to locate the source of the voice.

'Who said that?' he said quickly before it happened again.

The Snow Lions have returned. The people are curious.

Half frightened, half astonished Leos slowly leaned forward towards the giant creature with a flabbergasted look. Argoed's head turned back again, and to Leos's surprise, the snow lion winked at him, before releasing a low rumbling growl that sounded like laughter. Lyanna shoved him back, clearly not appreciating being squashed.

'They're, not staring at us. They're staring at you.' he said softly.

Lyanna quickly sat up from her withdrawn state and turned around. A thunderous look was wrought upon her pixy face.

'What did you say?' she said angrily.

'It's you, isn't it? You're the one they've come to see.' he said, but she cut him off before he could finish.

'Nonsense! You don't know what you're talking about. What makes you-' She stopped suddenly as a noble voice entered her mind once more.

I told him!

'You what! How could you?' snapped Lyanna.

Because he needs to know the truth, Sulun. They all do! And his endless questions irritate me.

'Argoed you fool. What have you done? You're not supposed to talk with anyone except me.' Argoed growled softly.

It's true, I am bound only to speak with the rulers of Hibernia. But since none currently sit upon the throne, I choose to speak with who I wish unabated.

'This is so strange.' commented Leos, still in awe of the whole experience.

However, his companion was bristling with so much rage her blue skin darkened. She ignored the man's naivety and muttered a series of curses in her own tongue. Argoed increased his pace towards the palace, hoping to distract her. Lyanna made a further point of saying the matter would be discussed later.

'So, you going to tell me who you are? Or shall I ask him?' asked Leos curiously, but the girl remained silent. He leaned forward, hoping to entice a response from Argoed. The snow lion was also quiet. He would have to wait for an answer.

They came to the palace gates and walked straight through, leaving the growing mass of followers to stare in their wake. The armed guards did nothing to prevent them from entering, and simply stared in awe as the went past.

Argoed carried the pair through the royal gardens at a stately pace, until finally he reached the foot of the palace, where they were forced to dismount. Leos shook out his stiff legs. He wasn't used to riding so long and felt a terrible ache in his thighs.

'Is this it?' he asked, 'is this where we'll find Lord Ellious?'

Lyanna answered with a slow nod then walked on, stopping before a huge marble staircase that swept down gracefully from the royal palace in a gentle arch. The stairs curved elegantly around a spherical fountain, which stood proudly in the fading sun, and came to rest upon a courtyard of polished stone. Cool water trickled down the narrow furrows, carved into the fountains silver skin, perfectly matching the famous Hamyian Rivers that crossed over at the fountains top. A tribute to the Great Mother, who wept a sea of river's after her family's sudden and tragic demise.

Argoed nuzzled the girl gently when she paused to touch the delicately carved banister with obvious apprehension. Silent words of reassurance passed secretly between them that brought a smile to her face. He lowered his mighty head slightly with a respectful bow, then led the way forward, travailing up the stairs with practised ease, despite his large paws which barely fitted on the smooth stone steps.

Leos sidestepped, and motioned for Lyanna to follow with an extended hand, bowing in mocked amusement. She smiled weakly then stepped forward.

They slowly made their way up the regal staircase, until it brought them before a set of huge wooden doors, exquisitely carved with intricate patterns all picked out in gold. A pair of giant Snow Lions guarded the doors flanks. Beautifully sculpted from pink marble, the massive sentinels sat proudly before the palace entrance and were almost equal in mass to Argoed.

Leos removed his fur hat and gently rubbed the taut skin around his eyes loose after wearing the goggles for so long.

'I think it's best you cover yourself a while longer,' said Lyanna, making the man pause, 'Just until we know for sure it's safe.'

Leos agreed, and quickly rustled his knotted hair free before adoring the garment once more.

The young woman drew a deep breath before entering. Finally, the long-dreaded moment had come. It was time to face the past.

She placed a hand upon the golden handle, and pushed.
D.R. Hurley

Twenty Two

A warm glow of orange light spilled onto the desolate plains of Trian's boarders as the mighty sun god, Belthor, brought his all-conquering gaze over the horizon. A breath of dust filled air swept down from the north, harassing dryweed bush and other shrubbery littering the rocky landscape.

Master Rykun's ear twitched involuntary as his keen senses picked up the scratchy sound of rustling bushes and skittering dirt. He surveyed the mountainous realm of his birth with great pride, whilst his long whiskers swayed gently in the morning breeze, and playfully flicked over his silver fur. He noted the jutting spires of twisted rock, thrusting high into the sky, like jagged teeth and found their presence ever appealing.

Only one way exists through the dense and often treacherous landscape of the Namolean belt without airship, and that was by way of the Rakouth passage. A huge channel cut right out of the western mountain range, which allows for safe travel into the Trian region. This entrance was later fortified and became known as the settlement of Hythrall.

Traffic into Trian has always been strictly monitored. Usually traders from both sides of the belt would exchange goods in Hythrall before returning home. It was an arrangement many considered fair since relations between some nations, such as Cowldonia, were notoriously brittle. Even so, trade was by all accounts good and Hythrall enjoyed a prosperous and wealthy community. Though far from the global scale of Umlie, it remained one of the largest places of trade in the east.

Master Rykun stood quietly in the northern turret of Hythrall's gatehouse, scanning the never-ending field of stone, sweeping over the horizon. This is what he presumed the outsiders saw of them, of Trian. A barren wasteland, devoid of life and beauty, fit only for a ragged society of scroungers and thieves. Never to be trusted. And yet, nothing could be further from the truth.

The Trians were a noble and peaceful race, steeped in tradition and content to stick with their own. They simply wanted to be at peace with the world. Few outsiders had ever ventured far into the eastern realm, for it was deemed forsaken and unholy. Fewer still have ever seen the nation's capital, Altrad. The old master could probably count on one paw the number of Cowldonians who've stood before the brass gates of Trian's largest settlement.

This net, this ring of mountains, to which they were all confined, is where most thought Slarr's children dwelt. Rykun knew this from his long years spent on the council, and had numerous dealings with weary outsiders. He liked to stay here as a reminder of their ignorance. If only they knew the truth. If only they could see the beauty held within this land. The life that grew.

Blankets of forests with trees as tall as buildings, lush fields of golden wheat, crystal clear waters running down from the mountain. That was the real Trian. A hidden oasis created for the people in secret by their deity, who'd sought redemption for his once bitter and jealous nature. Slarr's actions may have brought an end to peace and harmony in the world, but eventually he sought forgiveness for his mistakes. By pouring the remains of his spirit into the centre of the barren wasteland he was confined, he ensured new life would thrive in his place. And his children always provided for.

It had been many days since Rykun had seen the lush landscape of his country's inner region. Not since his troublesome niece went missing.

The old master promptly left the turret and headed north, making the steep climb towards the Rayamthos defence, further up the mountain. His wandering thoughts drifted away from the distracting opinion of outsiders, and settled on matters closer to hand.

Impetuous youth. What in Slarr's name was she thinking?

The news of his niece's departure was a deep wound that weighed heavily on him. Rykun had already lost much of his family to conflict, and now to lose her was devastating. He should have seen it coming, the fool! Blinded by his need to protect his only kin, Rykun had lost sight of what it meant to be family. Ultimately, he drove her away.

It was not the first time such a thing had happened. The way of the Long Fur was difficult, and caused many young does to leave in favour of easier paths. But her inclusion within its ranks meant she would be kept away from front line soldiering and safe from danger. Which is why he pushed for her to be selected. Not that he doubted her prowess in combat. He admitted the youth was a highly skilful opponent with warrior instinct. Some would say she had the potential to be one of the best Long Furs ever to be trained. If only she would dedicate her mind to the task. Still, his niece was far more capable now then he was back in his day, and rightly deserved of her place amongst the elite ranks.

His regretful thoughts had brought him far along the stone fortification. By the time he'd realised, Rykun had descended the outer wall, and was heading back towards the garrison. He stopped momentarily to gaze upon the sprawling settlement of Hythrall's market zone, down in the valley. His vantage point enabled him to see far. Across the rows of trading stalls and storage areas, to the distant residential district, embedded in the southern side of the Belt. Squat houses built from rock, hued out of the mountain, dominated the lower landscape. All of them thatched with dried reeds the colour of charcoal.

A cool breeze tumbled down the mountain, which brought with it the faintest thump of distant impacts, stirring Rykun's attention. He turned his mind from the scene below, and looked towards the garrison's training grounds, and saw whiffs of rising smoke drift over the wall. A common sight which he usually would have ignored, had it not been for a familiar voice shouting orders between the blasts.

Intrigued, the old Master made his way towards the sound, then stopped to peer over the stone wall. He watched the morning routine, taking place some twenty feet below him, with an element of pride.

A group of a students, training under the watchful eye of their Master, on one of the settlements many training grounds. It would appear the morning's lesson focused on Kier, for they all were gathered on one side of the yard facing the smoking remains of several practice dummies.

Rykun watched as the students expertly summoned little balls of crackling energy between their clawed hands, before unleashing them into the wheat filled sacks. It was a sacred art, bestowed upon all of Slarr's children at the time of his passing, despite it being dubbed too dangerous by the other Gods. The ability to harness energy from within and release it instantly as a destructive mass was what made their race so powerful and deadly. But also brought a great deal of distrust from other nations, particularly Cowldonia.

He watched the dummies become vaporised by the lethal blasts. Attendants ran out of stone shelters, placed either side of the practice range, to replace the burnt sacks. They dumped the remains into small wooden barrows before disappearing again to safety. The white furred instructor tutored the group patiently while this happened, giving advice on posture, stance and controlled breathing. Rykun smiled as he recognised the familiar voice. It belonged to one of the nation's finest instructors, Master Callus.

The Trian Ambassador must have sensed his friend's presence. He quickly turned to see Rykun gazing down from above. He bowed respectfully, then turned back to his class.

'Remember what I have said today. The key to mastering Kier is through focus. Each of you will reflect on my words and continue without me. I will return presently. Custos, take over please.' The Acolytes bowed in unison before resuming their training under the watchful eye of the grim-faced officer.

Ambassador Callus made his way up a tiered set of stone steps towards his friend, who waited patiently for him at the top. His clawed feet gently scraped off the stone steps as he climbed.

'It brings me great pleasure to see you here, Master.' said Callus as he came to his friend. They embraced in the customary way, with foreheads pressed.

'A feeling shared by me also. I see you are starting early today.' replied Rykun, nodding towards the group.

'As is Slarr's way. The young it seems, tend to be more responsive at first light. And besides, it helps breed a little discipline into them. A quality which many now appear to be lacking these days.' said Callus jokingly.

Rykun grunted softly in response, before walking away, casting his gaze upon the mountainous range they were nestled amongst.

'Forgive me,' started Callus, suddenly feeling a bit awkward, 'I did not think. News of your niece's whereabouts still escapes us. But I have sent word to all the other watches to keep a lookout. They will find her.'

He placed a reassuring paw upon his friend's shoulder and squeezed gently. Rykun let out a long sigh and kept his eyes locked on the horizon.

'I've failed her, Callus. I've failed them all.' he said softly, still looking ahead. 'My duty was to protect and raise her by the same values her family intended.' Callus shuck his head slowly.

'Rykun, it is a difficult age. None could have predicted this.'

'I should have known something like this would happen. Should have seen it coming.'

Callus grunted softly.

'We both should have. But that's beyond us now. For whatever reason it was, Nikita chose this path on her own. Even if we did know what she was plotting, I doubt our words could have swayed her from her course. After all. She has too much of her mother in her.'

'That's what I'm afraid off. Who knows what she may do?' Rykun kept his eyes on the rocky horizon as he spoke.

'Either way it boils down to me. I should have told her sooner about her parents' death. But the reality is, I was too afraid. I thought by not saying I was somehow protecting her.'

'The truth is not often a thing so easily spoken. I know not now the words that will ease your heart, but I do know this, we will find her together, my friend. I promise you. And then when the time comes you will be ready.'

Rykun's eyes drifted slowly to meet his friend's and smiled warmly in thanks for his support. He knew Callus was right and cursed himself silently for giving into doubt.

'Will you walk with me, ambassador?' he said softly. Callus replied with a bow, then together, they walked slowly along the wall again, and found their conversation back to where it usually ended; politics.

The morning sun was warm and most of the sky was free from cloud. After a few hours, the pair had traversed the entire perimeter. Rykun found himself once again standing in the gatehouse turret when the news reached them. Neither one of them had heard the distinct sound of scuttling feet upon stone, as the messenger drew near.

A runner dressed in short robes, edged in blue, came sprinting over to them from the garrison, yelling feverishly as he approached. The runner was unarmed, save for a small carrier tube made from the tusk of an animal, pinned tightly at the waist.

The tone of her cries caught both Masters' attention, who shared a look of concern, before turning. The young doe came skidding to a halt, then quickly fell to one knee with her head lowered. Her dark grey fur was matted with sweat and her chest heaved as she struggled to breath, drawing rapid breaths of air.

'Master Rykun, Master Callus, I bring terrible news!' she blurted between gasps of warm breath. The runner tried to steady her breathing before speaking. Clearly, she'd travelled from central office in Hythrall's market district, judging from her attire.

Rykun stepped forward and unceremoniously lifted the guard to her feet.

'What is it? Is it about Nikita? Have you found my niece?' he said quickly.

'No, Master. There is still no news regarding her. Instead I bring tales of woe, hailing from the west.' the youth spluttered.

'Well what is it? Speak quickly and see it removed from your tongue at once.' snapped Callus, eager to hear.

'It concerns Cowldonia my Lord. The Empire has executed a party of monks from the Ramool temples, in a public display. They were on a pilgrimage when they were captured.'

The two elder's eyes went wide with disbelief.

'What? Impossible!' exclaimed Rykun, 'The Cowl would never do such a thing. Not without consulting us first.'

'It's true, Master. Emperor Gildane conducted the hearing personally. Thousands attended the hanging. The monks' bodies are yet to be recovered.' continued the runner between puffs of air.

'Slarr's tongue, for what reason would he sanction this atrocity against us?' asked Callus.

'They claim treason, my Lord, against the Empire. Prince Alexander has been kidnapped and they accuse Trian of his abduction.'

'Blood of the deity, this cannot be!' cursed Rykun.

'It gets worse, Master,' the doe said, removing a roll of papers from the carrier tube on her waist. She presented it to Rykun, who in turn snatched it away. The old Trian scanned the parchment quickly between his clawed fingers, recognising the wax seal which secured it.

'The Hibrenian Flower?' queried Callus. 'Why would the realm of snow choose to contact us at this moment?' Rykun shuck his head, then carefully broke the seal and unrolled the document. His eyes darted quickly over the paper and confirmed it was signed with the Steward of Hibernia's mark.

'Father preserve us,' he whispered, 'Lord Ellious's forces have spotted the White Army marching towards our borders, laden for war. He wishes to know if the allegations of kidnapping hold truth, and requests an urgent meeting of nations to settle this dispute peacefully before war breaks out!'

'This is preposterous!' shouted Callus, 'Why would they think Trian is responsible for this? What proof do they have?'

'When did this supposed crime take place? asked Rykun to the runner.

'Six days ago.'

'That could put them near Thailen by now. A day or two out at most.' muttered Callus as he pondered the messenger's answer.

'There is still time, we must move immediately.'

'For what,' cried Rykun angrily, 'we have done nothing wrong. It must be some sort of trick, some rouse too...' he stopped talking as a worrying thought entered his mind.

'Could it be the FOT has reformed and have something to do with this?'

'No. Impossible. That group was disbanded after the borderland skirmish, you know that-'

'But what if they've returned. What if someone has stoked the fires of that radical movement?'

Callus grabbed his friend's shoulder and turned him round, fixing Rykun with a stern look.

'Rykun please. I see where your mind's going but it's not true. We would have known about them by now if they had reformed. Besides, it matters not for the moment where the blame lies. We must get to work quickly, lest war be upon us!' he cautioned, 'A party must be sent out at once, to meet with the Cowldonians and discuss the accusations. I will make the arrangements.'

'No,' said Rykun sharply, 'as a member of the High Council it is my role to answer these claims of treason with-'

'I am the ambassador of our land, Rykun. It is my duty to go. Your safety is paramount. You are needed here. The other council members must be made aware of this, you have to meet with them in Altrad, and prepare for the worst. If the Empire truly wishes for war, then we must be ready.'

'By Slarr we will be ready. Trian will stand firm. I will have the western gate closed until further notice. All trade beyond Trian will cease immediately. Our borders are to shut.'

Callus nodded slowly in agreement.

'A wise move my friend. I shall leave at once. You there, runner! Send word to the garrison and hail Commander Adlow. He is to prepare for immediate dispatch to the frontier. I shall meet with him shortly.'

'Yes ambassador.' said the runner, who promptly turned on her heel at set off again to deliver the message.

Rykun turned to his friend.

'Be careful. And may the will of Slarr guide your safe return.'
D.R. Hurley

Twenty Three

The high domed ceilings of Anthrea's Winter Palace were filled with the raucous echoes of hundreds of raised voices, each of whom fought desperately to be heard by the head of state. It was a common occurrence that often graced these fine halls.

Usually, it would have taken place inside of the royal throne room, but on this occasion had been moved to the banqueting area, due to the sheer volume of those attended. Amongst the usual coin merchants and trade leaders frequenting these political debates, stood military leaders, advisors and high-ranking members of office who all sought the attention of Hibernia's already burdened leader, Lord Ellious Fiddooris.

Today's hearing, much like the previous day's engagement, focused solely on war. In fact, since word came of the potential conflict between Trian and Cowldonia, the great halls had been plagued constantly by the swelling press of the public demanding a response. If the Trians were truly guilty of treason, then war would surely follow. Many were frightened of the potential aftermath which war inevitably brings, and were eager to learn of Hibernia's position towards the matter.

Would the state standby and remain neutral? Content to watch silently from afar as the two most powerful nations of this time potentially tore themselves apart. Or should they intervene? The choice was difficult to say the least, particularly since Hibernia's recent spike in wealth was due to a trade deal between Trian. Despite countless hours of endless discussion, none were closer to any sort of agreement.

Since the sudden and untimely death of the late King, the White Realm had been left leaderless. Its people never fully recovered from the great calamity, more than half a century ago which claimed the lives of not only the entire royal family but also half of Anthrea's population. Since then, Hibernia has slowly crumbled, and its people have become divided. Many struggled to accept the new regime which rose from the disaster, and they quickly lost faith in their leader to carry on Hibernia's legacy.

Lyanna stood quietly at the back of the group trying to take it all in. The intense debate had consumed everybody's attention so much her sudden appearance went completely unnoticed. Even the gigantic shadow cast down by Argoed drew none to their presence.

Lyanna's heart thumped loudly against her chest as she waited, filling her ears with its increasing rhythm. She stood immobile, frightened by the fear of what she was about to face in the coming moments. She wanted desperately to be somewhere else.

Leos took note of his companion's change of mood, taking in the sudden paling of her blue skin. Gone was the girl's usual hard-faced demeanour. It was now replaced with worry and doubt, making her appear more like the frightened child he originally mistook her for, back in those dreadful prison chambers. He knelt down beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she began pulling the large ponytail hanging over her right ear through her fingers.

'Hey, you ok. What's wrong? You're not going to let this lot of stuffy politicians bother you?' he said calmly, 'I'm the one who should be worried. What if they imprison me or something?'

Lyanna raised her head to look at him. Her emerald eyes, so often burning with fire, now looked hollow and empty. Slowly, her cheeks rounded as a smile began to creep over her face, bringing some of her warmth back.

'I won't let that happen.' she said softly.

A quiet, gruff from behind signalled Argoed was also in agreement, as the snow lion tipped its massive head down slightly to Leos, much to the man's relief. Perhaps the great creature was finally warming to him? Although he still felt considerably wary of the beast.

'Besides, I'm the one they'll want to imprison.' she whispered before stepping forward.

Leos's covered face twisted in confusion from the remark, unsure of her meaning. He watched quietly through the tinted lenses of his furred head piece as his companion made her way towards the room's front, still pulling at the thick mass of her crimson hair. Her tiny steps were lost amongst the endless shouts and cries.

She got halfway before stopping, and began to falter before the commotion.

It's too much; I can't go through with it. she thought as her heart beat harder and began to turn back. However, the seething mass of voices suddenly gave way to a mighty primal roar which rose above all others and shook the very foundations of the palace.

Argoed stepped forward with a snarl then released another gut-wrenching roar, commanding all eyes to look upon his magnificent presence. The mighty beast stepped past Lyanna, and slowly headed towards the centre of the crowd, causing all to part before him. A mixture of fear and awe written upon their shaken faces. The sound of heavy thuds upon stone echoed throughout the room as Argoed plodded forward, with Lyanna following behind. Leos was wary to make himself known, so elected to stay where he was.

Hushed gasps of disbelief stirred quietly amongst the group, as the pair walked silently towards the room's head. Finally, the parting crowd split to reveal a rather stunned and flabbergasted looking Steward.

Argoed's humongous form stopped short, several paces before Lord Ellious, and gave a respectful bow before sitting on his hind legs. The wide-eyed man stared slack jawed at the towering creature, and rubbed a calloused hand though his silver hair. He was among the many thousands who'd presumed the race of noble creatures had died alongside the monarchs and gazed in wonder at the beast. A little voice piped up from behind the creature and addressed the Steward, drawing all eyes.

'Lord Ellious,' said Lyanna bashfully, stepping out from behind the gigantic beast with a sheepish gait, 'forgive my intrusion. I come before you baring crucial knowledge that may affect the potential situation brewing in the east.'

The Steward's eyes scrolled down towards the young woman presented before him, and looked upon her as though she was an apparition. A glimpse of familiarity ghosted his mind as he looked into her emerald eyes, but he could not place her.

'I am sorry, Miss, but I'm at a loss for words. It has been many years since the palace of kings was blessed with the presence of the Maidens' favoured. How come you to be in the company of such esteemed creation?'

Her emerald eyes moved back to the snow lion standing behind, then returned to the Steward as she considered her next words.

'Because, my Lord, he is bound to me. And I to him.'

A muttering of gasps entered the room at her words. Lord Ellious stared at her for some time before answering, curious as to the strange feeling growing in his stomach.

'Long has it has been spoken, that the snow lions' return would hail the beginning of the true rulers of our lands to emerge. Tell me child, will you grant me the privilege of your name? For my mind fears to believe that which my heart is telling.'

Lyanna's gaze shifted uncomfortably over to Argoed once again, who nodded in response. She swallowed, then drew a long slow breath before answering.

'I am, the Lady Darnto, my lord. And this, mighty creature here is Argoed, my Ennir. Presented to me at birth by my father, Marrius Darnto, the late King of Hibernia.'

An eruption of noise swiftly followed, as the room suddenly came alive with gasps and cries of disbelief as people took in the shocking news. Leos was also stunned, despite his previous suspicions. A raucous squabble broke out as some shouted false to the claims, whilst others begged to know more.

'The Darnto's were lost sixty years ago. None from that line remain.'

'The claim is folly! The monarchs are dead. The great slide killed them!'

Lyanna ignored the crowd and kept her gaze set firmly on the steward.

'I speak the truth, my Lord. I was not in the city when the avalanche struck. I managed to escape the mountain's wrath.'

'Impossible, the bodies were reclaimed.' someone yelled from behind.

'Lord Ellious please! You must believe me.' replied Lyanna. Her eyes started filling with tears as memories of that awful day came flooding back.

'You speak lies, this can only be a deception. How black your heart is to create such a fable!' shouted an angered coin merchant, who had stepped to the front.

'But what about the snow lion?' argued another, 'What of his return? She must be a Royal to command him, surely.'

'A rouse, it must be a rouse. A heartless trick to tame the beast from its lair in the mountains and deceive us!' replied the merchant.

The onslaught of questions and accusations from the crowd began to affect the Lyanna's mind. Her heart beat faster as the crowd relentlessly accused her of lying. Her emerald eyes became wide with fear as tears ran freely down her face. She stepped away from the angry cries, frightened by the verbal onslaught, until her back was pressed into the towing form of her Ennir, where she quickly buried her face into his long fur, trying to hide.

'I can't do this,' she whimpered, 'it's too much. I never should have come.' Leos's masked face was wracked in pain to see his friend so upset. He strode forward and tried to reassure the girl, who turned to embrace him tightly.

The giant snow beast snarled in anger upon seeing her ordeal and got to his feet, in a sudden display of rage, slamming both his colossal paws onto the stone floor, with such force the stone cracked. Argoed released a truly gut-wrenching roar, that shook the ancient chandeliers hanging from the ceiling loose, and made those outside the room flinch in terror.

Leos covered his ears until it ended, like so many others in the room, as the Lyanna continued to hold him. After what seemed an age, the roar finally subsided, and all became still. The only sound to be heard was the muffled tears of a sobbing girl.

Lord Ellious was the first to move. He shuffled forward to stand by the group and knelt before Lyanna, placing a hand gently upon her shoulders. He looked into her woeful eyes and smiled warmly.

'Dearest child, please, forgive this rabble. They seek only truth. Our hearts are still torn at the loss of the monarchs. The Darntos were held dear by us all. Their loss, along with the thousands of others who died in the avalanche is a deep wound yet to be healed.'

Lyanna's eyes glistened with moisture as she fought back the tears, the knowledge of that fateful day brought back to her mind in full.

'None know more than I the tragedy of that day. The pain of loss we suffered bares a scar that shall never be healed. But I am afraid you are all mistaken, for not all were lost that day. There was one who did escape the massacre. And, it is the same one who is responsible for the event that claimed so many.'

The old man's wrinkled face twisted in surprise as he began to understand the enormity of her words.

'My dear child, what are you saying?'

'It was me. I did it. I caused the great calamity of our time. It was birthed by my hand. By my recklessness.'

A sea of gasps encompassed the room at her words. Lyanna turned to face the crowd and spoke aloud.

'I was playing with Argoed, way up on the summit, blasting craters into the snow for him to jump whilst we were looking for pine flowers. I was going to give them to my mother, she was always fond of their scent. I became careless. Created too many explosions, too much force. The next thing I knew, the mountain came away and...' Lyanna paused, unable to finish her words. The pool of guilt swelling from within her threatened to engulf her.

'My child. Even if it were true, how can I believe your tale. We must have proof of the matter. You know what I would ask of you?'

'I do your grace. And will agree to submit my mind, as well as Argoed's for reading. The truth must be known, no matter how painful.'

The old man nodded, accepting her answer. To think, this girl, this innocent child could cause the death of so many was unfathomable. He looked towards the hulking snow lion, who'd come to stand behind her, and watched as it placed its massive head onto the ground in a seemingly apologetic gesture.

'Why didn't you make yourself known sooner? Why wait so long to come forward?' Lyanna stepped back and wiped her face dry with her sleeve.

'I was terrified to see my home buried under a torrent of snow. My only thought was to run away, rather than face the consequences of my actions. So, I fled and spent a lifetime wandering in exile. After I reached the border Argoed chose to stay behind, despite my pleas. He could not bring himself to leave our realm, so choose to spend his days hiding in the mountains, until I had returned.'

Lord Ellious rose and slowly began pacing in a circle. He was more than a little hesitant to believe yet the evidence brought before him was becoming all too clear. Could this girl really be the lost heir? And if it truly was, then surely her coming would unite the land once more.

All of the steward's doubts and fears were picked up easily by the Lyanna, whose unique abilities as a Medion enabled her to sense the aging man's feelings as plain as if he'd given voice to them.

'Please, your grace. I know my life may be forfeit for my crimes, but I beg you please. You and the servants of the Winter Realm must hear my voice for the words I bring are of grave importance.'

The Steward's face hardened as he looked at Lyanna.

'Your return was not governed by the need to answer for your supposed actions?' he asked sternly. The girl shook her head.

'No. Not exactly. At least not yet. I came to give you a warning. If you will let me explain.' Lord Ellious took a moment to think.

'Very well, you have my ear,' he said finally, 'please tell us of the news you claim to be of such importance.'

Lyanna bowed slightly and gave her thanks, wiping her damp cheeks with her sleeve before proceeding.

'Cowldonia currently matches to war against the western region of Trian.'

'A fact known to us all-'

'Yet they do so under false pretences! I beg you Lord, please. We must save the lives of those people before they're thrown away needlessly.'

'Hibernia knows of the alleged treachery and is yet to make a decision on the matter. The Emperor seeks vengeance, and quite frankly the evidence points solely with Trian. Word has already been sent demanding an explanation of their actions.'

'No, my lord, you don't understand. The Trians are innocent, they are not the ones to blame. Some other force is at work here, and this man here has proof of it. He alone bears knowledge of what happened the day Prince Alex was taken. It is because of him I have returned.'

Lord Ellious raised a bushy eyebrow towards the garbed figure who had previously comforted the girl and regarded him slowly, as if only just becoming aware of his existence.

'And how is it this, mysterious person who has brought you here, knows what the Empire does not? I would advise that you choose your next words carefully.' cautioned the steward. The subtle warning laced in his rasping tone was more than clear.

'Perhaps, it is better to see for yourself, my lord.' she replied quietly.

Leos turned his head towards the girl, who in turn nodded for him to proceed. After a deep breath, he began removing his goggles and pulled free the fur hat from his head. The chamber gasped in unison as the young man revealed himself to the room.

'Blood of the Maidens! Is this the Cowldonian traitor?' exclaimed the steward. His wrinkled face drew dark with rage upon seeing the man.

'Yes, your grace, I am he.' said Leos coolly.

The room erupted with more cries of shock as people were stunned by the news. The escaped prisoner who betrayed his nation was here in the palace. Lord Ellious called out for his guards to seize the man immediately, despite Lyanna's pleas. Several burly guards quickly ran over to surround Leos. The man backed away from the mace wielding brutes and looked helplessly toward the girl, who was desperately trying to reason with the steward.

'My Lord please. You must listen to me,' she begged, 'this man is not a traitor, he has been framed. The true villains are still at large and if you would only-'

'You dare bring a criminal here into this great home, in hopes of protection?' shouted the Steward, 'half of Cowldonina is out searching for him and you want me to give sanction for his crimes? What if Emperor Gildane was to find him here, what then would he think of Hibernia's collusion with him?'

'The man is innocent your grace, I swear it. Please, send for a Medion and have his mind read, they will confirm what I say is true. I would not have brought him here if it were not so. This man holds the key to Trian's innocence.'

Lord Ellious paced angrily around as he listened to the girl, his blue complexion turned darker still as his anger increased.

'It is not our place to interfere with foreign politics,' he said finally. 'Take him to the dungeon at once. He will remain there until the matter is discussed.'

The guards instantly moved to restrain Leos, who tried in vain to escape, but there were too many. The guards beat him as he resisted, drawing cries from Lyanna as he called out her name. The great snow lion was also angered and sprang up quickly with a snarl, causing panic amongst the body of people.

Leos struggled, but the guards were too strong. Fear flooded into his mind at the thought of being imprisoned once again. His heart raced as he struggled amongst the blue skinned guards' iron grip, calling to the Steward he was not a criminal. But found his breath taken as a spear haft was thrust into his stomach.

Leos gasped as the air from his lungs was stolen. He ground his teeth as he was hauled away, and felt the fires of rage rise up from within. The burning anger stirred fiercely within his soul the more he was restrained. His clenched fists began shaking from the growing tension.

Then suddenly it happened. A great flash of purple light exploded from Leos, launching all those around him into the air. The vaulted ceilings echoed with a dozen cries as people balked in terror at the stranger's actions, followed by a series of heavy thumps as the burly guards came crashing to the ground some distance away unmoving.

Leos stood alone with gritted teeth. His brow was wet with sweat and his face wreathed in anger. The room became silent as all eyes fell over him. The sound of his painting breath was all that could be heard in the great hall.

'Ja'mai's breath, what is this devilry?' whispered the Steward, as he looked at the man fearfully.

Leos felt the fire within him diminish, and with it, the anger gave way. His usual calm manner returned shortly after. He stared blankly at the mass of wide-eyed Hibernians looking at him fearfully, and stood awkwardly. The palace's cool air suddenly felt rather hot and stuffy.

His dark eyes soon found the girl's, whose expression matched all those around. A mixture of fear and confusion etched onto their blue faces. Slowly the man raised his hands and knelt down, as the room became silent.

Lyanna walked slowly to her friend, and tried to calm him. At first, he recoiled from her outstretched hand, but eventually took it gently. He felt saddened to see the fear in her emerald eyes as she looked at him, then turned his gaze back to the Steward, whose attention lay focused on the groaning guards scattered across the floor.

Lyanna's voice was the first to break the eerie silence.

'My Lord please, not all is as it appears. Send for a Medion, and I promise we will solve this thing together.'

D.R. Hurley

Twenty Four

The fool continues to dance to our tune, blinded by his hate. The grief he feels swells constantly in response to our gentle touch, a trait we will exploit to suit our needs. Even now, his torment serves best to fuel our goals. The strife within his blackened heart gives speed to our cause, just as we have foreseen.

Soon, the time comes to reveal our presence; and show the world that which the Gods have sent forth to sow the seeds of their destruction in their name.

The sun parched ground trembled fiercely, as the weight of twenty Brer's thundered along the dusty plains of Trian's outer borders with all haste. The camelids shaggy manes swept wildly behind their long necks in the rushing air, and their mouths foamed with spit from the blistering pace their masters had set. A huge billowing cloud of golden dust rose up from the earth, as the party travelled west towards the growing shadow of soldiers, spilling over the horizon.

Master Callus rode at the head of the group, flanked by a dozen or so guards. His mind whirled with a myriad of questions, since the impossibility of this frightful news still hadn't set in. As ambassador of Trian, he was responsible for negotiating the will of his nation. But nothing so far was as serious as what he was now riding to. The very thought of this meeting's consequences frightened him beyond reason.

Again, he failed to believe what had been said. Treason, kidnapping, and the threat of war with the Emperor of Cowldonia? It was utter lunacy! It made no sense at all. What possible proof could the Cowl have to strengthen these ridiculous claims of betrayal. Why hadn't word been sent to them earlier, demanding some sort of explanation?

His grip tightened around the sun browned reins a little more as he cracked them again, spurring his mount to reach the growing stain in front as soon as possible. His feline eyes continued to widen at the ever-increasing mass of troops. Even at this distance it was huge. Clearly, the Cowldonians were serious with their intent. And from the looks of it, were planning on total annihilation of his nation.

And yet there, in those briefest of moments, Callus found himself taken by a quiet spell of madness as the faintest glimmer of amusement scuttled into his mind upon considering the name of this potential advisory. He found himself stifling a chuckle at the thought, but left his head to shake in pity.

The White Army; The Empire's supposed protectors of peace. Who only set forth from their holy realm to smite the countless evils that would ruin this world, in the name of justice! A folly indeed. Callus often suspected their swords would have found more fitting victims, should they have been set to task much closer to home. Especially those involved in the Borderland's skirmish, ten years previous.

He ground his teeth at the thought of those council members lost that day, but then quickly dashed such thoughts from his mind. Now was not the time to bring up past transgressions. He had to stop this approaching madness before it grew beyond control.

Yes, relations with the Empire were still fractured, but never before had there been any real concern for the threat of invasion, not on this scale at least. Now his nation's fate rested solely upon his shoulders, and the lives of his people hung in the balance.

His clawed fingers tightened further still as he cracked the reins once more.

*****

'Great mother alive, what is it now?' barked General Zion from within his lumbering war carriage, angry for being disturbed once again from his plans for battle. He didn't even bother to open the carriage door, and continued to scrutinise the map of Trian laid out before him. The solider panted hard as he tried to keep pace with the trundling monstrosity of Zion's war carriage. He cried out again through gasps of hot air.

'Mr Lord! A party of Trian's have been spotted ahead. They're heading straight for us.'

Marcus paused from his work as the news sunk in.

'Hmmm, there're late...' he growled to himself disapprovingly.

He quickly turned away from his preparations and opened the door, looking towards the rising cloud of dust some ways ahead of their position. The old General smiled darkly, before ordering his coachman to stop. He studied the approaching group through a view glass, taken from inside the cab. The party was larger than he'd first assumed, a group of twenty or so he guessed, and were travelling quickly. It wouldn't be long before they arrived.

The General's face twisted menacingly as his smile broadened, creasing his scared features further still.

'Ah wonderful,' he breathed quietly, 'a humble gift sent to me, by the Dark Uncle himself. Perfect! This truly is a sign that our cause is just.' The soldier listened quietly as his master chuckled, and noted the deepening glow of his right eye.

Marcus stepped down from his mount, then fixed the soldier with a hard stare, making the poor man go rigid with fear.

'Send word to Capitan Parmen immediately. I want him to assemble three troops of soldiers to our front, in hammer formation.' He ordered. 'A detachment of crossbows is to cover our flanks. Hurry man! Get to it at once, lest you face the whip! I don't want our esteemed guests to be left waiting while you dilly about.

The young soldier brought a clenched fist to his chest in salute before scurrying away, thankful to be leaving the General's presence. Marcus's wolfish gaze returned to the approaching group, and continued to chuckle quietly to himself.

*****

The midday sun had grown strong. Baking the already dry ground into a desolate plain, which frequently whipped up bursts of skittering dust, high into the dry air. One such cloud passed over the tightly formed unit of soldiers, waiting patiently amidst the dry heat with weapons drawn. The interval was short for their guests arrived soon after their assembly.

A group of snorting Brers appeared out of the swirling dust clouds at full gallop, their weighted stride could be felt through the ground as they headed straight for the grey uniformed soldiers. General Zion's men stirred slightly upon seeing the party of Trians, and gripped their swords a little tighter. Their commander's voice rumbled from the centre of the mass, ordering his men to remain steady.

The charging camelids came to a stop a short distance before the assembled soldiers, each of them was slick with sweat, and panted hard. Ambassador Callus steadied his mount and spied a single banner rinsing high in the centre of the opposing force, proudly bearing the colours of green and brown. A gentle ripple of cloth swam up the woven fabric as it caught the midday breeze.

Marcus stood proudly below his beloved nation's flag as the ambassadorial party spurred their mounts into a gentle trot. A hand lay gently on the pommel of his sword, which was sheathed inside a beautifully wrought scabbard. The other played idly with the short crossbow, hanging at his waist. Marcus shunned the use of the more modern pistols, favouring the simple crudity of this reliable weapon. He said nothing as the rat men trotted closer, standing immobile in the baking sun, his face like stone and feelings unreadable. His mind found it awfully peculiar that one animal should ride atop another!

As the newcomers came to a halt, some thirty yards away, one of the Brer's broke free of the pack and moved a little closer. Its white furred rider was the first to break the tense silence.

'Greetings to you all, men of the west. In the name of the All father, I, Ambassador Callus welcome you to these lands, and wish to know why the Emperor's army marches towards our door-'

'We do not come to part hollowed words with you, Trian. Our business is with your Council!' the General said curtly, cutting the speaker off before he could finish. His strong tone caused an obvious stir of anger amongst the rat-men, who snarled in anger for being spoken to so disrespectfully. A wryly smile crept onto the side of Marcus's face, as he found their reaction amusing.

The Trian leader jerked his reins sharply, then moved closer still.

'How dare you speak to me like some sort of gutter cretin, man of Cowl! I am the voice of this realm. You will make your intentions known!' replied Callus angrily.

Marcus smiled slyly, then stepped away from his men.

'I know who you are, Skritt. Your face is known to us. But it is not the one I seek audience with. For we, the bringers of light, have come here in the Emperor's name to see justice done and honour maintained.'

'What is your purpose in these lands?' replied Callus flatly.

'Do not take me the fool, and pretend you know nothing of the great slight that has been cast against the people of Cowldonia. We have come to set it right.'

Callus's mount snorted, then moved about, clearly agitated by the growing tension. The old master quickly settled his Brer with a sharp tug on his reins before replying.

'So, it is true. The child Alexander has been taken, and you presume it was by the hand of Trian the Empire's future is in jeopardy?' He chuckled to himself for a moment before continuing.

'You are deceived General. I fear you've come all this way in vain. Trian knows nothing of the matter, nor would it. Why would we seek to kidnap the Emperor's son? To what purpose would it serve, and to what end could we justify such a heinous act? It is not Slarr's way.'

'Don't speak to me of claims of innocence, Skritt!' shouted Marcus, 'the treachery of your God is once again felt by Cowldonia. But this time, instead of burying our grief in tears we stand in rage, unbending and undeterred.'

General Zion casually pulled a slender object from within his tunic and cast it towards the ambassador. The glittering shape imbedded itself deep in the ground before the Brer's feet, causing it to rear. Callus expertly controlled the beast and immediately summoned a ball of sizzling energy within his clawed hand, along with the Trian soldiers, but stayed from launching the orb as he recognised the blade.

'Impossible.' he whispered, letting the fizzing ball dissolve into nothing.

'That knife was left by the captors of our beloved Prince. And you Skritt's will suffer for it!'

Master Callus's eyes widened at the sight of the item. Its metallic surface shone brightly in the sunlight. He quickly dismounted and retrieved the weapon embedded in the dirt, drawing a gasp of shock from his troops. Callus scanned the bronze weapon, instantly recognising the blade for what it was. A ceremonial knife carried by the monks of the southern Temples. The hilt had been heavily engraved with Trian text, and depicted the sacred words taken from Slarr's book of redemption.

'The traitor who bore that weapon swears it was given to him by the leader of a group in league with your council. His confession has led us to the capture of your agents, trying to make off to the sanctuary of this realm. We stopped them of course, but the Prince it seems, had already been moved on.'

'You're lying General,' retorted Callus, but the General quickly silenced his protests with a raised hand.

'Those blades are kept only by your kind, and used for sacrificing souls to your malevolent deity. How else could we have come by it!'

'Show me this traitor! I wish to speak with him immediately, and prove to you his mouth spills only lies!' snarled Callus venomously.

'You know as well as I the traitor escaped us, and lies hidden somewhere here in these lands, under the protection of Trian. We demanded his release, and the release of Prince Alexander Gildane, lest war be upon you.'

'More lies!' Callus hissed.

'No ambassador, it is not. Before their death, the monks further revealed information about-'

'So, the monk's execution is true!'

A wry smile crept onto the General's face as he nodded in response.

'Justice has been served, Ambassador, and judgement already cast. As of this moment the treacherous three currently lie at the heels of the Dark Uncle, and will spend eternity paying for their crimes.'

Marcus's words caused a great stir amongst the Trian party.

'You have tried citizens of Trian, and executed them under your own authority, without consulting or informing our nation of their crimes? That alone could be construed as an act of war. Why would you risk such provocation?'

'The evidence was clear, and we stand by our actions. Now the time has come for you to stand by yours. Failure to cooperate with the release of the Cowldonian traitor only furthers your guilt, and will leave us no choice but to take back what is ours by force.'

'Trian is innocent. We have not captured your Prince. There is no traitor in our lands. Everything you perceive to be true is little more than a deception. We did not do this! Stand down, and I promise you, we can work together and resolve this matter-'

'I've heard enough of your words, Skritt. Tell us your decision.' said Marcus curtly.

He kept his eye fixed upon the white furred Trian as he silently weighed his answer.

'I pity you, General. To believe we could have done this brings much sorrow to my heart. I will send word to your Emperor at once, demanding more reasonable negotiations. Perhaps he will not be as blind to the truth as you.'

After a few moments the Ambassador's words were met with a heavy sigh, as the aging soldier began to shake his head slowly, rubbing a hand down his scared face.

'Then, there is nothing left to resolve, Ambassador. Your lands will part before our righteous path. We will seal away this darkness forever more!' replied Marcus calmly.

Callus was shocked by his response. Had he not heard him? He stared at the man for some moments before speaking,

'You are insane, General. Completely! To think such a thing!'

'No, son of Slarr, my purpose is clear.'

'If you persist in this folly, then you will find our gates barred, and our armies mustered. We will defend ourselves without question!'

Marcus nodded without further comment, satisfied the time for words had passed.

I'd hope you'd say that...

'So be it, foolish Trian. You leave me little choice. If there is to be a war, then let it be known. It was not the Empire who commenced it.' He turned from the ambassador and returned to his men, leaving the enraged Trian to his fate.

Master Callus's tail whipped furiously back and forth, and his whiskers bristled at the General's insolence. His patience was totally strained. There was to be no reasoning with this man. His thoughts quickly turned from diplomacy to defence. Trian must be warned of the impending attack, of which he was certain would follow. Time was short, and he would travel with all haste.

He mounted his Brer then cantered towards his party, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. Marcus paused before reaching his men. His pupils became dilated as the familiar sound of a forgotten language began to echo faintly within his mind, stimulating his senses. He stood frozen in the sunlight, listening closely to the words. It goaded him, and enticed him to proceed on the chosen path with words of reassurance.

Marcus's smile darkened as he turned to see the rat-man return to the ranks of his filthy race, and ordered their party to leave. His fake eye glowed menacingly in the golden sunlight as he embraced the decision to move forward. His heart became steeled for the task ahead.

'Soldiers of Cowl,' he yelled proudly, 'by the grace of the Emperor you may commence as ordered. Fire at will!'

No sooner had the words left his lips, the air was torn asunder with the flight of wood, as two dozen crossbows let loose a torrent of bolts towards the Trian party. Brers whined as they were brought down, their matted skin punctured with numerous shafts as they fell, crushing the legs of their riders who failed to roll clear. The shrill cry of pain reigned forth as the Cowldonians released another volley of death into the hapless group, causing terror amongst the Trians. The stone tipped bolts ignited with lilac fire on impact, staining the air with burnt flesh.

Some tried to retaliate, hurling balls of crackling energy out of their clawed hands. Bodies flew as the lethal bursts exploded amidst the General's soldiers, but it was not enough to stem the slaughter. The bolt throwers were relentless in the attack, and let fly a final volley as the ranks of sword bearing soldiers closed the short distance.

Crimson fluid spilled onto the dry earth as the two parties met. Soldiers in grey cut down the unprepared rat people in a brutal display of violence, hacking and slicing without pause. The Trians were sorely outnumbered, and there could only ever be one outcome, but they fought back with grim determination, fighting to the last. Their blades rose and fell with alarming speed, felling many Cowldonains. But the sheer weight of number quickly smothered them.

A young officer led the enemies charge, killing all without mercy. His blood crazed face twisted in anger, as he hacked down an injured Trian. Driving his sword deep into the creature's chest. Captain Parmen embraced the exhilaration of the slaughter wholeheartedly, and began roaring with glee. He ripped his blade free and searched eagerly for another opponent, hungry for the next kill. His prayers were shortly answered.

Amidst the gore and endless slaughter, one figure stood defiant amongst the crushing weight of numbers. Master Callus moved swiftly amongst the maelstrom of gore with untold speed. His slender sword blazed wildly with fire, as he channelled energy into the weapon, making its bite lethal. The old Trian twisted and turned, slaying all who came near in a whirlwind of death. Limbs were cut through and necks slit open as his glowing sword moved through the air with unprecedented skill and speed, but even he couldn't hold back the pressing number of soldiers, and quickly his muscles began to tire.

He fired a sharp burst of energy into a group of nearby soldiers. Their charred bodies tumbled to the ground clearing a path. If he could break free, there might still be a chance to warn Trian.

A wordless cry brought his mind back as a young officer swung wildly for him. Callus easily parried the blow, and stepped sideways, shoulder barraging the man's exposed back, which sent him tumbling.

Captain Parmen grunted as he landed on the ground and looked back to the insolent creature that bested him with hatred. Callus was shocked to see the amount of rage within the youth's bloodshot eyes and felt pity. Clearly this one had succumbed to madness.

He stepped forth to end his life, but in the next moment stopped as his body went rigid. A searing pain exploded across his back, freezing him on the spot. Callus's sword clattered to the ground as he fell, screaming in pain. A metal bolt was buried deep into his back. He wailed as the shadow of his attacker loomed over him.

General Zion smiled evilly as he quickly moved in on his prey, the weighty crossbow tumbled from his grip, its service was no longer needed. His glowing eye seemed to burn with fire as the taste of death hung enticingly on his lips.

Callus raised his hand, summoning one final burst of energy to save himself from the blow, but he was too slow. The General brought down a glittering blade, severing his arm below the elbow before the ball could be formed. The Ambassador screamed in pain, clutching the bloodied stump of his arm and writhed in agony.

Amongst the many cries and clash of metal, the Ambassador heard a sinister chuckle, issuing from his attacker before the final blow came, and darkness took him.
D.R. Hurley

Twenty Five

Baxi waited patiently inside the drafty room, sitting quietly amongst the shadows of the dormitory's corner. Dim rays of pale light shone through a single window at the room's end, illuminating the Inspector's less than poorly furnished surroundings.

The establishment's owner had kindly brought up a padded chair from her private quarters, which provided Baxi a small degree of comfort whilst he waited. The old lady didn't take too much persuading for him to carry out his theory, although having a towering brute such as Brutus for an accomplice often had that effect on people. A good reason he thought to be in the company of the Empire's somewhat lesser respected employees. Perhaps their use wasn't as limited as he once thought.

Unfortunately, the owner drew the line at Brutus staying with the children, so he was confined to the downstairs hallway, which to be honest, suited Baxi just fine. Ogres were hardly known for the ability to conduct great feats of stealth, and Brutus was a particularly clumsy specimen of his race. Even now he could hear the gentle rumblings of his companion's breath drifting up the stairs as he slept.

So much for being alert! thought the Inspector.

The night dawdled painfully along, as time slowed to an unbearable rate. As he sat listening to the occasional murmurs and stirs from snoring children, Baxi began to doubt himself and his theory. Maybe he'd got it wrong after all. It was of course highly feasible he'd made a mistake. His time spent in Enforcer Archives, compiling an endless list of cases, resulted in him finding a truly worrying and deeply disturbing pattern of kidnappings, spanning the whole of the Empire.

His evidence suggested small groups of children were being taken from orphanages over the last decade, in a six month cycle. Every case was left unsolved. He feared quite possibly many more acts had not been reported. The fate of those children remained a mystery to him, yet he suspected there was some cruel act of debauchery involved. Only the traitor Leos was known to have survived these attacks. When he thought back to his mind reading, Baxi remembered seeing nothing regarding it. A strange anomaly indeed.

A wild theory came to him. Maybe the Trians were farming these children for brainwashing? The intention being to trick them into betraying their own country further down the line.

He stifled a chuckle at its lunacy. Clearly, his prolonged lack of sleep was affecting his mind. But then, as he continued to ponder, he became quite taken with the idea. It might well explain how the man came to turn on his own country.

Stop it Rymund. You're being ridiculous!

A cold chill swept down his spin as a new query came to him. Would Prince Alexander meet with the same fate as those other children?

His gaze passed around the room and back out the window, still nothing. Maybe this wasn't the next location. But then again it had to be. He was sure Bretol was the next district in the pattern, and this orphanage was only one of two not previously targeted, the other having been closed two years previous. If the Inspector was right, then they had to strike here. Unless of course the pattern had changed?

More time passed. Baxi looked towards the window once again and smiled. The Maidens wore a thin veil of cloud this night. Their gloomy light was occasionally broken by the passing clouds drifting idly across the sky. He gave a silent prayer to their presence and moved his hand. Touching his head and heart before extending, as was the customary way. After which his mind returned to the job at hand.

He didn't know what time it was now. His body became stiff from not moving and slowly he started to shuffle around in his chair, trying to ease the tightness in his lower back and shoulders.

The tattered curtains draped over the room's only window fluttered slightly as a small breeze caught them. Baxi's eyes quickly darted over to them and became puzzled. He was sure they were closed not moments before. Why was it open now? Maybe the latch had fallen? No, he would have heard that.

He sat back a little further in his chair, making sure he was concealed, and held his breath in anticipation. Could this be the start of it? He wondered. His gaze remained fixed on the window. Yet nothing stirred. The trouble he sought to disband came from within the room, and not outside.

As a gentle current of cool air passed into the room, one of the children began to rise slowly up into the air. His matted blanket fell onto the bed, leaving the youngster floating rigid. Baxi's eyes went wide, but he remained calm as the child floated silently towards the window. A second child rose to join the first, shortly followed by a third. What in Tumarr's name was happening here?

He had to move now, before it was too late. He looked to the window, but it was still empty. Who was doing this and where was this power coming from?

Quickly, he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, hoping to dispel the power, but his conscious was instantly repelled by a malign presence that completely blocked him from acting. The Inspector pressed a hand to his face and gasped, reaching for his Fogberry juice as his mind stung from the expulsion. No sooner had the dark liquid taken effect, he sprang to his feet and reached for the child as it passed through the window, but missed. He watched helplessly as the boy rose up into the air, towards the roof.

Baxi fled the room, then ran up the stairs, shouting for Brutus to follow. The ogre was slow to respond and groaned loudly from being disturbed, but soon realised something was wrong as he saw the Inspector darting up to the next floor.

Baxi climbed three flights, then burst out onto the roof in time to see the child rise up from the building's side, still asleep, and drifted silently towards a group of figures carrying large woven sacks. They were all Cowldonian and dressed in dark clothes, yet their faces weren't masked. Each of them had a rough look about them.

He saw another child rise up behind the first and realised in his haste he'd forgotten to shut the window before leaving, and cursed his stupidity. However, his chastisement was brief.

Baxi froze as he caught sight of a pale creature floating silently behind the brutes, several feet from the ground, and balked at its horrible appearance. He watched in horror as the being slowly turned its foul gaze upon him, and felt the pain in his head return. The creature's jet-black eyes, pieced straight into his soul, freezing his heart. He started to panic, and watched his panting breath suddenly begin to fog. It was the same creature he'd seen at the execution, of that there was no doubt.

Baxi reeled at the sight of the horrible monster, and felt sickened to be in its presence. In all his years he'd never seen anything like it. He looked at the seething mass of tentacles, hanging limply from where its mouth should have been and wanted to vomit.

The creature seemed to alert its followers, who turned in unison to face him. Their blank faces and dull eyes indicated they were in some sort of trance. It spoke no words, but gave a nod towards the intruder standing before them. The men silently obeyed, moving as one.

They ran for Baxi and tried to pin him down. The Inspector backed away as the men rapidly approached. Without thinking, he dived towards the closest, hoping to topple him, but he was too strong and held his ground.

The Inspector struck him in the face, but was clubbed to the ground by another. They set upon him instantly, kicking and stamping. Baxi tried to fight back, but there were just too many. A sharp blow to the head dazed his vision and the men used the opportunity to secure him.

'Cast him over the side.' uttered one of the brutes in a flat, emotionless tone.

Baxi's limp form was taken over to the nearest edge. His head rolled helplessly for side to side as he tried to regain his focus. Despite his delirium, the Inspector knew he had seconds to act. In a last-ditch effort, he tried desperately to break free, but he was still disorientated from the blow and his captors were too strong. He struggled but there was no use. He could not break out. And watched in mounting horror as the building's edge came dangerously close. Time had run out.

A bellow of rage ripped through the night, grabbing his attention. One of the men suddenly disappeared into the air, and flew over the building's side without a cry. A sickening crack sounded a few moments later as he met with the ground. Another man was clubbed down by a massive fist, the force of it was so strong it sent him skidding across the roof in a limp mass.

Baxi's body crashed to the floor, knocking the wind out of him as the men let go. He scampered away from his remaining attackers in time to see the giant silhouette of his saviour blocking out the sky.

Brutus's huge arms laid waste to all those around him. His immense strength proved too much for the helpless men, as one by one they fell before his brutality. It was all over in a few moments.

Baxi pulled himself back to his feet, then staggered over to the ogre, who was holding the last of the men by his ankle and making for the rooftop edge.

'Brutus wait!' he yelled, just before the giant launched him over. The brute turned his round head from side to side, looking for the familiar voice, and then grunted dumbly when he saw the Inspector staggering towards him. A childish smirk spread over his ugly features upon seeing his master standing again.

'I do well, Boss, huh?' he rumbled smugly. Baxi drew close and patted the ogre's massive chest.

'Yes, Brutus, you have. Good boy. An extra barrel of mead for you upon our return to Jyonti.' The ogre smiled dumbly in response upon hearing the news, his angular face beaming with pride knowing he had been useful.

Baxi focussed on the still dangling man and squatted before him. He checked over him as the ogre maintained his iron like grip, searching for any clue as to who he was, but the man had nothing. Whoever this low life was, he was somehow connected to that vile beast of a demon he saw before. There was no sign of if it now, or the children.

Baxi cursed his luck again for letting it slip away, but then turned his attention back to the man.

'Hold him still for a moment please.' he said to the ogre. Brutus's meaty hand tightened further and effortlessly held the captive steady whilst the Inspector pressed his long fingers firmly onto the thug's forehead.

He took a series of long, slow breaths to clear his mind, then closed his eyes. Baxi thrust his consciences deep into the kidnapper's mind, hoping to find some answers, and found little resistance to his presence. He delved deep into the man's memories and tried to track back his recent activities...

He saw images of children, bound in sacks and being loaded onto wagons as if they were, produce. The carts travelled slowly by night without torch light, along what looked like some sort of tunnel. It was hard to tell because of the dim light, but the journey appeared long, and the unmistakable sound of sloshing water was present. He skipped forward and saw the wagon break through into a dimly lit room of unknown size, where the men set about unloading their grisly cargo onto some sort of raft.

A torch bearing figure stood motionless before them, hooded and cloaked, and seemed to be directing proceedings. His features were masked by the veil of darkness, until all the children were stowed. He stepped forth into the torch light to place a weighty bag of coins into the palms of the suspended man...

Baxi gasped as he finally realised who the figure was. It was Sarsso, the Bangarrow District Inspector he met with the other day. What in Tumarr's' name was he doing there?

The sudden shock upon seeing his colleague brought Baxi back into reality with a startle. He panted sharply from his exertions and wiped his bald head dry, before taking a swift draft of Fogberry juice to numb his aching head. He grimaced as the bitter liquid coated his tongue, but felt his mind run wild with millions of questions. A District Inspector, paying thugs to kidnap children. For what purpose? It didn't make sense.

He stood up and began pacing around as he thought, movement made him focus, and thought back to the meeting he had the other morning in the capital. It was then remembered the moment of deception he detected when questioning Sarsso. It wasn't just a slip of his character. He must have been fearful of Baxi, and possibly even of discovery.

The Inspector came to a halt, then looked around the roof space and the lifeless bodies lying around. Damn that ogre for being so careless. Those men might have revealed more answers. He could have throttled the beast!

Yet, in his heart the Inspector knew he couldn't be angry. The ogre had just saved his life and given him an important lead in this investigation. He drew a deep breath then exhaled slowly, regaining his composure. Something far larger was going on here and he had to uncover it. His work at recovering the escaped convict, Leos, seemed more crucial than ever. The traitor would surely hold more clues regarding this case and the Prince's kidnapping. He would have to assign more men to continue the search.

'Brutus, listen to me very carefully, I have an important mission for you. Take that scum back to the local Enforcer cells. Guard him with your life until my return. Do not go anywhere else, and do not get distracted on your way. Do you understand. Go directly to the Enforcer lodge, now!'

The ogre's barrel chest swelled with pride from the importance of his mission, and he nodded eagerly in acceptance.

'Yes, Boss-man. I go now. What 'bout you?' he rumbled.

'I'll meet with you shortly. After I've informed our host, Madam Aigo, of the grave news. Then arrange for some officers to be sent here and deal with the clean-up.'

The ogre nodded once more, then asked if he would be needed again later, to which the Inspector replied yes.

Baxi watched as the hulking giant threw the thug's limp body over his shoulder before stomping away.

'It seems we will be paying our colleague Mr Sarrso, another visit after all.' he muttered.
D.R. Hurley

Twenty Six

The Namoleon belt, which surrounds Trian, is not only an impassable mass of rock which limits the way for those trying to get into the eastern region, but equally confining for those trying to get out. A colossal wall of snow tipped mountains, piercing through the clouds and into the heavens beyond.

Paths though the belt were notoriously difficult, and often treacherous. Rockslides were a common occurrence amongst its desolate peaks, as were frequenting dust storms, which could be whipped up in a moment's notice by the gusting winds. Few had travelled over the belt and lived. And as yet, no army had dared to cross it. A fact which the Trians had relied upon for centuries, and could rest assured in the knowledge they would never be in danger of invasion.

That was of course until the Rakouth passage was made. A path that, although necessary, had created a huge chink in Trian's otherwise impenetrable defence. For the first time since its creation, the east was vulnerable. However, this weakness was quickly compensated for as Trian engineers devised a cunning plan to protect their nation from any potential threat.

The Namoleon belt held hundreds of mountain lakes within its rocky clutches, and it was from these waters that a great power was formed. Teams of builders spent years digging trenches from the lakes and channelled them into a colossal dam right above Hythrall. If Trian was ever to come under attack, the western settlement would close its bronze gates and the dam would be opened, sending forth a raging torrent of unstoppable water flooding into the passage, and cleansing the land of its foes. The armies of Trian would then march forward as the enemy recovered, sweeping all those aside who'd dare to bring ruin upon this proud nation.

It was a remarkable, if not simple feat of engineering that took decades to construct, and was later dubbed 'the Rayamthos Defence' after its creator, Sarlio Rayamthos. Since then the defence has never been used, save only in the first instance of its creation, to demonstrate its destructive capabilities. Soldiers walk endlessly along its fortified walls, forever guarding this tremendous power, knowing full well that they will never experience the deafening roar of a million tons of water unleashed. One such individual paused amidst his routine patrol of the dam's perimeter to look upon the giant body of contained water.

Kyle Barlock often dreamt of seeing such an incredible thing unfettered, and secretly longed for it to happen. He stopped midway along his route, and cast his weary gaze towards the northern turrets on the adjacent side of the dam. The squat towers sat proudly either side of an empty canal. The ancient lock, made centuries before, would fill the dam after it emptied with water stored high in the mountains, ready for the next release. Kyle rested the haft of his spear upon the cold stone floor, happy to let the ground take the weight of his weapon from him for a moment, and rubbed his shoulder.

Shifts on the walls had recently doubled, since the High Council got word of a potential threat involving neighbouring Cowldonia, and the young Trian was tired from the increased workload. He looked at his encumbering weapon, and resisted the urge to cast it into the water. The spear's blade was deadly sharp, yet awkwardly top heavy, making it a burden to carry. Nothing at all like the exquisitely wrought Halberds the Long Furs bore.

Those sacred weapons were said to be beautifully well balanced, and embedded with certain fibres that made Kier channelling a breeze; a real joy to wield. At least, so he was told. No wonder their nation's, so called Elite, were unmatched in combat. With a weapon like that, even he could slay the foes of Trian without so much as breaking a sweat.

Kyle rolled his shoulder without thinking, in an attempt to loosen off stiff muscles, and silently cursed his leaders for jumping to conclusions. No army, not even the Cowldonians, would ever risk a weapon like the dam being unleashed upon them. It would be suicide! His country was more than safe. And the High Council should deal with outside affairs through politics and leave the likes of him alone.

Besides, he'd heard talk of Master Callus riding out to meet the supposed invaders and had yet to return. That alone would suggest that the matter, whatever it was, was being settled. Otherwise the ambassador would have returned screaming for mighty Slarr's spirit to protect us!

The water looked black in the evening light and lapped gently against the edges of its stone confines, as a faint breeze drifted over it. How he wished to see his weapon sink into its depths, but knew the act would cause outrage amongst his superiors.

Kyle looked past his disgruntled feelings, and saw the glittering stars twinkle over the dam's surface. The reflection of the night sky shimmered as the water moved, and the young buck raised his head up to gaze in wonder at the sight above him.

The clouds had parted this night to reveal a sky studded thousands of times with tiny lights glistening brightly. Kyle's youthful eyes studied the scene in amazement, and let his mind run free. For a short while he escaped the complexities of life all Trians were plagued with. He had always been fascinated with the planet's natural beauty, and planned one day to leave the safety of his homeland and travel to the western city of Umlie, where he could study in the famous schools and learn about the ways of nature.

He stood frozen a while longer staring at the stars, captivated by the thought. Often, he would spend the long night shifts like this, watching the sky instead of the outer perimeter while none were about. Kyle's mind usually focused on where he wanted to be and not on what he was doing. A harmless trait.

And yet, even if he had been completely focused on his duties, the young Trian still wouldn't have seen the ghost-like assassin moving silently towards him. Nor stopped the fatal blow that struck from behind, ending his life instantly.

His body didn't fall as his spirit parted. The noise of his ragged corpse clattering to the ground would have alerted the others. Instead, an invisible force held him rigid in the air, before silently carrying him over towards the water's edge. Kyle Barlack's limp body, slipped quietly down into the shadowy depths of the dark water, dragged down by the weight of his ceremonial armour, along with those of his comrades, who also suffered the same fate.

This sudden, unseen plague swept quickly throughout the dam unchecked, as one by one the guard's fell prey to the silent death that stalked them. The twinkling lights above could only watch in sadness as the protectors of Trian's greatest defence system fell peacefully under their eternal glow. The merciless killer acted without emotion, and didn't stop until its task was achieved.

Another life slipped quietly away. His executioner watched silently as the last guard slipped peacefully into the deep water, just like the rest. A creature whose wire thin body floated above the cool stone floor. Its pale skin was peppered with dozens of purple blemishes, across its thighs and forearms. And where its mouth should have been, hung a mass of dangling tentacles.

Slowly, the creature tilted its bulbous head, removing its black jewelled eyes from the watery grave, and brought its eerie gaze upon another being, identical to itself, floating silently across the dam to meet it.

This new arrival was quickly joined by a third, who appeared from one of the northern turrets. The creature said nothing as the other beings approached and remained still, save for the occasional twitch amongst its fleshy tentacles. They came together in silence, a trio of wraiths, unique to this world, and exchanged their secret thoughts. Then, as one, headed down into the structure's southern tower, continuing the purge of life.

The guards inside met the same fate as their comrades, a quick and painless death conducted with ruthless efficiency, and soon the entire area was cleansed of life.

Knowing they had free reign, the creatures quickly made their way into the structure's depths and headed straight towards the enormous stone cavern, situated underneath the dam.

Dozens of metal braziers illuminated the colossal chamber in a sea of orange light, revealing the curved basin of the dam above, and a set of interlocking metal plates planted in its centre. The giant gates nestled directly above a cavernous pit, which comprised the room's centre. A stone path encircled the void's perimeter, which appeared to lead straight down to the centre of the world.

The wraiths betrayed no sign of emotion as they entered the chamber, and made their way around the parapet. They came to stand equal distances apart, and turned their foul gaze upon the enormous rocks, suspended from the ceiling. Thick bands of iron links lay embedded in stone counterweights. The chains ran up towards the ceiling over a series of pulleys, connecting to the metal gates. Once released, the giant rocks would plummet into the abyss, wrenching the colossal gates open with a screech of scraping metal. The dam's contents would drop into the inky black void and funnel into the buried sluice ways traveling underground, until it exited either side of the great bronze gates of Hythrall.

The beings moved into position as one, floating up towards the chains. Each of them placed a clawed hand upon one of the enormous metal links and waited. Moments later, a strange glow emerged from under their ethereal touch, growing brighter with every second until it became a searing red blaze. A mighty crack resounded soon after as the massive chains snapped. The heavy links flayed through the air, twisting from the release of tensile forces as the mighty rocks fell. Clawed hands rose towards the descending counterweights, instantly halting their descent. The force of them falling would certainly damage the dam's structural integrity upon impact.

The great stone blocks remained frozen in the air by the unseen forces, until the creatures flexed their enormous will and safely lowered the colossal stones to the ground in an effortless display of telekinetic power. Each of them returned to the chamber's walkway, once this was done and exchanged more words in silence.

Their first task complete, yet the mission was not over. The Rayamthos Defence was now useless to the Trians, and would take weeks to repair the damage. And by that time, it would be too late.

Silently, under the veil of silvery light, the creatures emerged from the dam's southern tower and slipped away into the night to carry out the rest of their dark business.

D.R. Hurley

Twenty Seven

General Zion scanned the fortified settlement of Hythrall keenly, and was happy to indulge the growing sense of anticipation swelling within his heart. He stood upon the crest of a rocky outcrop, overlooking the Trian trading post with a looking glass pressed close to his face. A wolfish grin spread deviously across his haggard features.

Last night's raid went exactly planned, and the Trians were none the wiser. The recent intelligence report of their defences proved to be accurate after all, and his agents easily accomplished their mission, passing by completely undetected. A success on all accounts, and further proof for operations back home to be increased.

Just think what an army of them could do... he mused.

Pressing his one good eye closer to the glass, he adjusted the lens further with a twist of his wrist, hoping to see clearer his first obstacle. The gloomy light cast down from the Silver Maidens' crescent faces made it difficult to see, but it was starting to brighten. He saw the settlement's colossal brass gates shut tight, just has he had expected, which indicated trade with the outside world had ceased. The Skritt's were clearly spooked, after learning the Emperor was coming and taking suitable precautions.

He followed the outerwall north from the gatehouse's tower, and tracked its step ascent slowly, until it reached the eastern turret of the Rayamthos Defence, further up the mountains. It was difficult to tell from this angle, but it looked as though the Trian guards were preparing to swap shifts. The tiny figures were lining up ready for the handover and seemed not to be in any panic.

Marcus chuckled darkly to himself and lowered the looking glass to his waist.

'Good,' he rumbled slowly, 'good. They do not yet know their precious dam is inoperable. Everything is indeed going as planned.' he said to none but himself.

This was it, finally the time had come. So easily did he want to stand longer and savour the moment to its fullest, but he knew they had to move. Daylight was soon to break and with it the change of watch. Hythrall was of great strategic importance and must be taken quickly. A delay here would jeopardise the entire operation.

The retractable tube snapped shut as he closed it suddenly, then he made his way back down the slope towards his assembled troops, waiting patiently for his orders.

'Give the word to move, Captain. We march at once. I want my troops inside the passage as the first light of day breaks.' said the General to his most senior leader.

'Yes, my Lord.' replied Captain Offidius, a little too hesitantly. The veteran officer seemed reluctant with his response to move and stood awkwardly before his General. The slight air of doubt within his Captain's voice gave Marcus pause for concern.

'You still think we are in danger, Captain?' he asked gruffly. Offidius paused for a moment before answering, a slight clunk of whirling gears broke into the air as he flexed his metal arm.

'Forgive me, my lord, it's just that...' he hesitated again whilst trying to choose the right words.

'Well what is it man? By Dreaco, out with it now at once!' snapped the General. Offidius quickly regained his composure and decided to vent his views.

'Sire, the gate remains closed. Yet you still wish to commit a frontal assault. Forgive me, but our forces cannot break through so easily. They will falter upon the Trian's defence like water over stone. Our men would be vulnerable to attack until the gate is breached. We'd need a miracle to get through quickly, judging by the thickness of it.'

A wry smile crept onto the General's face in response.

'And that is what you shall have, Captain, I promise you that. A miracle to belay all others and give speed to our path.'

Offidius cleared his throat and took a step closer.

'It's not just the gate that troubles me. It's this whole operation. I was led to believe this mission was to be one of, intimidation only. A show of force. An act to merely show the Trians we are serious about our threats, and that the Emperor's son, Alexander, must be released before it's too late. You know of my objections regarding the recent encounter with the Trian ambassadors, yet I followed through regardless. But if we go through with this now then war will truly erupt.'

'We are already at war, Captain, lest you forget. The day those filthy Skritt's crept into our lands and desecrated the Emperor's family, we were at war! I will not let my nation be held by the whims of these tyrants.' replied Marcus sternly, walking away. But his Captain pressed the matter further.

'I agree, my Lord. Truly I do. But, frankly speaking, from someone who has known you for a long time, I am concerned you seek to use this campaign to quell the demons of your own heart.'

Marcus froze mid step as anger took him. His body stood rigid and his hands clenched. He turned to face Offidius, who noted the glow emitting from his fake eye grew fiercer.

'You go too far, Captain!' he growled dangerously, 'my heart seeks only justice, for my country and for its people. My command is to be obeyed without question. Is that understood? I will not tolerate disobedience within my ranks. Especially from one who's already proved he is not capable of leading from the front.'

A hiss of pressurised steam vented into the air as Offidius pointed a metal finger towards his leader.

'You know that's not what happened that day, Marcus. I could barely stand, let alone fight. This, confounded arm, is a testament to that fact.' he said angrily, feeling the blood rush to his face.

'You left your post, man!'

'I saved your life.'

'You only saved yourself,' spat Marcus venomously, 'and took comfort in letting those you deemed beneath you carry out your role. Fleeing from the scene like a wounded dog!'

Offidius clenched his fist tighter to the sound of whirling gears.

'You know that's not true. I'm worried for you, Marcus. The grief inside blinds you from the truth and seems to have swollen of late. Gideon knew there was no other way for us to survive. He stayed willingly so that you might escape.'

'Do not speak his name again! You are not fit to birth it.' roared the General, his eye now blazing with fire.

'The matter is closed. I will speak no more of it. Try my patience further, Captain, and you will find yourself stripped of your rank and shackled to the highest peak of this godless realm for the crows to feast upon.'

The old Captain felt the bristles of his beard stand on end as he met his commander's baleful stare with unflinching resolve. His breath came in short rapid bursts, but deep down he knew this man's word would hold true if pushed enough.

After what seemed an age, Offidius felt his anger receded, and slowly bowed to his superior, knowing there was no way of reasoning with him.

'Apologies, my lord. I overstepped my position. It will not happen again.' he said coolly. Marcus stepped closer towards his subordinate officer.

'Issue the command, Captain,' he said darkly. 'We strike at once. I want you personally leading the first wave.' The seasoned Captain brought a fist to his chest in salute before turning away, leaving a small trial of dust left in his wake as he marched smartly down the rocky landscape.

Marcus remained still for a while longer as the officer left, taking a moment to calm himself. He drew in a long breath then released it slowly, turning his gaze back towards the unsuspecting settlement lying peacefully below.

'My will is just.' he said quietly before making his way back towards his army.

*****

The first light of the new day was close to rising, and soon Father Tumarr's scrutinous gaze would spill over Trian's desolate landscape as night finally gave way. A fresh body of guards had marched up from the nearby garrison and were positioned by the western tower, since it was the closest. They had completed the arduous climb in good order, so to take over from the night watch before sunrise, as per the norm.

The lowland garrison and the dam were connected via a series of steep stone walkways, jutting out of the mountainous landscape. The Outerwall also encompassed the northern tower of Hythrall's gate house, allowing soldiers to patrol full circle around the entire perimeter if needed.

The smartly formed row of fresh-faced soldiers had lined up close to the water's edge on the southern wall, looking towards the northern turrets flanking the canal on the other side of the dam. They waited patiently for the handover to take place, unaware of the fallen bodies submerged beneath their feet. Nobody saw the distant cloud of dust rising steadily in the west, nor hear the faintest rumble of galloping horses travelling in the wind. The Trians focus lay solely on the coming parade, and kept their eyes facing forward, lest risk the wrath of their superiors.

After a short while, the soldiers of the day watch began sharing concerned looks, since the usually strict routine had failed to commence. Everyone knew the night watch should have appeared by now and heads began turning as the agitated voices of their leaders issued from within the western turret. Something was wrong. Several hushed words of split forth from the ranks, whilst others hissed back at them to remain silent. The frantic voices spilling out from the turret grew louder, followed closely by the clatter of metal as those inside began to run.

A young soldier, standing furthest from the tower, heard a sound in the wind which caught his attention. His large ears pricked up at a sound similar to braying horses, and his eyes turned in curiosity to see. The buck, who went by the name of Hazzlid, stepped out of the ranks and walked slowly towards the noise, despite constant warnings from his comrades, hissing frequently at him to return.

He approached the parapet slowly, with a curious look wrought upon his fur-covered features, and looked down to the garrison below. His feline eyes shifted focus towards the distant gatehouse, and its metallic brown gates. Numerous tiny figures scuttled back and forth across the fortified wall. Something had gotten them spooked.

One such individual could be seen running up the northern boundary towards his location, while the remaining guards of the new watch began pointing to the horizon. Hazzlid's youthful eyes followed their direction, and cut through the gloom to fix upon what looked like a plume of dust rising up in the Rakouth passage. His clawed hand rested upon the stone's cold surface, where his acute senses detected the faintest tremor of vibration running through it.

His grey eyes went wide with disbelief, as finally he understood. His mouth dropped open and his hands trembled with fear. He wanted to shout a warning, but could only splutter the words.

'Prefect!' he began wailing frantically, sprinting back to the tower, 'Prefect, come quickly!' He ignored the bemused looks of the other guards, still standing obediently, and continued to yell. His clawed feet scratched the stone floor as he skidded to a halt before the western turret's entrance. A white furred Trian bounded outside, bellowing furiously. His long face twisted in anger upon seeing the upstart fool who had broken ranks suddenly.

'What in Slarr's name fuels this madness? Hazzlid, get a hold of yourself now and join the others before I-'

'Prefect Tullyus, come quickly,' he said though gasps of panting breath, 'something vast draws near in the west, and will soon be upon us!'

The senior commander's fur bristled with anger at the news.

'What, Impossible, you must be mistaken!' he replied, following the guard back towards the wall and the huge cloud of dust now dominating the horizon.

They reached the parapet just as day broke, and saw the full horror bearing down on them. The Prefect's long whiskers sagged low as the golden light revealed to him a mighty force of soldiers, bearing the colours of green and brown, hurtling down the Rakouth passage at an unprecedented rate. His ribbed tail fell flat onto the floor as fear took him for a moment.

'But this is madness,' he exclaimed, 'the gates remain closed. It would be suicide to attack?' The Prefect turned back to his troops, now swarming around him, curious as to the commotion. Their young faces stared wide eyed in terror at the approaching army, and many gasped at the sight.

Prefect Tullyus gathered himself quickly, then prepared himself to give the one order he'd thought he would never issue.

'Prepare the dam's release!'

*****

The roaring noise was deafening, and all encompassing. Three hundred metal horses brayed under the steel boots of their riders' will, splitting the compacted earth with sods a new, as the weight of countless hooves thundered across its parched surface. The high-pitched clatter of rattling armour surrounded all ears as the White Army charged towards the great wall of bronze, splitting two the mountainside.

Captain Offiduis heard nothing as he led the first wave's charge. Riding at the head of a heavy cavalry unit, he found the weighted strides of his mechanical steed fade to nothing as his blue eyes darted back and forth between the ranks of endless soldiers, seemingly approaching their doom. The ranks of metal horses belched blackened fumes into the air from perforated exhausts, as the fuel cells hidden within their bellies worked hard to maintain full speed.

The Trian gates remained closed, yet still they advanced. Driven forward by the will of their tyrannical leader, General Zion. Time slowed further still, as Offidius continued to look around. A horse drawn wagon, leaden with spear wielding troops drew near. He picked out their faces. Each of them betrayed feelings of doubt and concern upon their sun burnt skin, much like his own. Everywhere his gaze fell, soldier's clung fiercely to weapons, their grips so tight, their knuckles had whitened. They were frightened. All of them. Yet their loyalty to the Emperor spurred them on regardless.

The last remains of night had faded away, and with it the shadow of the growing colossus to which they rode was finally revealed. A great wall of deep bronze, some forty paces high and wider still, was a thing to behold. Its polished surface was marked with countless runes and symbols, beaten into the metal by skilled artisans that none here knew their meaning.

The gatehouse grew higher with every passing second. Its glistening walls looked strong and immovable as the morning rays shone onto it. They were close now, very close, and still the bronze doors weren't open. Offidius knew they would have to stop now or risk utter destruction.

In that brief moment of doubt, his mind became set. He would give the command, and halt the attack. General Zion's wrath would indeed be terrible, but he could deal with that later. For now, the safety of his men was paramount, and he wasn't about to let them sell their lives for this, madman.

But then, amidst the height of this despairing madness, he saw it delivered. The miracle General Zion had promised appeared in the sky. A sight that would remain etched upon his soul for all eternity.

*****

The crash of gongs resonated throughout the air, as repeated blasts of energy impacted onto their bronze surface, signalling the alarm. Trian guards hurled balls of energy towards the hanging gongs, alerting Hythrall of the impending attack, whilst soldiers from the garrison headed towards the gate house.

'Why isn't the dam moving? What's taking so long? Must I do everything myself around here? Why hasn't the night watch been located?' yelled Prefect Tullyus as his troops scurried around the dam.

Everywhere he looked, guards scrambled frantically with panic-stricken faces to take up positions along the parapet, yet still there was no sign of the defence's activation.

His question was answered by a Custos, charging out of the depths of the turret, who ran over to meet him. The senior guard's brown fur was matted with sweat and his breath came in heavy bursts.

'We have been sabotaged, Prefect. The dam is inoperable. The counterweights lie severed, there's no way to open the gates and release the water. Hythrall is defenceless!'

'Slarr's breath! What is happening to us?' cursed Tullyus. The Custos shook his head and continued to rain bad news.

'There's more. We have found several patches of blood throughout the area, but no sign of any bodies; the night watch has all but disappeared!'

Tullyus's head throbbed at the sudden turn of events. Yet he was given little chance to recover as another guard appeared bearing word that the locks on the great bronze gates had somehow been opened, and the mechanisms destroyed. The doors remained closed, but it would be impossible to seal them from attack. Hythrall was open.

'Blood of the All Father, what is happening this day?' cried the Prefect.

He looked between his people and the approaching doom, knowing full well the situation was dire. The locks were disabled, but it would still take an immense force to prise open the gate, which would at least by them some time to mount a defence. He turned to the Custos, and relayed a new plan.

'Shore up the gate as best you can, and keep working on the dam. If needed, we'll blow the thing open and teach these curs what it means to tempt Slarr's wrath!'

The soldiers scampered away, leaving Tullyus to direct his forces as best he could. However, the Prefect soon became aware as a new series of cries, alerting him towards the gatehouse's direction. This time all eyes were drawn to the sky as the makers of their doom approached...

*****

At first there was one, appearing from their flanks. The fast-moving creature could be seen hurtling through the air, and soared low over the mass of charging soldiers. Passing them at an incredible rate. The speeding blur of pallid flesh was quickly joined by three more of its kind. The wraith-like beings rocketed past the Colwdonian army on a path which sent them towards the colossal bronze gates.

Captain Offidius was just about to give the order to halt when he caught sight of the strange beings, racing towards the gatehouse. At first, he mistook the creature's allegiance, fearing they were some kind of new enemy, but quickly realised his error. He watched in awe, as the group of creatures lined themselves before the Trian gatehouse, and prepared to attack.

The beings' clawed hands stretched out towards the mighty gates in unison, deifying its magnificent presence. Seconds later, the dusty air split two with a screech of twisting metal, as suddenly the giant doors began to crumple under the might of unseen forces. Offidius gasped, along with half the Cowldonian army, as the metallic gates were dragged open by the sheer will of the floating beasts, and wrenched off their mighty hinges.

He shook his head in dismay, as the creature hurled the enormous gates onto the mountain with little more than a flick of their wrists, and felt revulsion at this display of unsurpassed power.

So much strength. Was this the team that General Zion had mentioned earlier? If so, he could understand why Marcus would wish to keep them secret. How in Tumarr's name did they come to be? The great mother herself would not choose to give birth to such, monstrosities. He found their alluring presence appalling, even though they'd just saved his men, and tried to wrench his eyes free from them.

Soon after, a resounding cheer erupted from the army dislodging his thoughts. The grim-faced soldiers roared triumphantly upon seeing the spectacular display, and found their hearts swelling with courage as an intense wave of emotions swept over them. Offidius too felt his loathing diminish, and found his emotions swell with pride. He became lost in the moment, and took up the cry with his men before he could think. A clenched fist thrust high into the air as the charge renewed.

*****

The first wave broke into Hythrall under the sound of thundering horns and screaming horses with unstoppable momentum, signalling for the rest of the force to attack.

General Zion watched his army pour into the Trian settlement with unrepressed delight and gave the word for the rest of his men to engage.

'Onward, brave soldiers of Cowldonia. Onward for the Emperor!' he yelled from atop his war carriage, waving his sword. The glittering weapon shone brightly as the morning light caught it.

The White Army answered his call, and charged towards the gatehouse with chants of death in their throats. This was it. There was no going back now. The Battle for Trian had begun.

D.R. Hurley

Twenty Eight

It seems there is one whose stumbled upon our path of righteousness, and seeks to destroy all that we have attained. But this, little Hwethgar, knows not the peril it lurks around.

An annoyance it proves to be yes, but one that will soon be swatted from our mind. It is only a matter of time. And that is something we, the ascended, are not fearful of...

The morning light had only just begun to spill over the cobbled streets of Bangarrow, by the time Inspector Baxi had arrived. The open topped cart in which he travelled, careened through the city with all haste, desperate to get to its destination as quickly as possible. Baxi was concerned that news of the previous night's engagement may have reached the ear of Inspector Sarsso and drove his ride with all speed.

The smooth sandstone buildings passed by in a blur as they continued to travel swiftly through the narrow streets unhindered. The capital was quiet, still waking in the growing light of the new day, which gave them precious time to close the gap.

Baxi kept his council as he and Brutus travelled. His mind ached terribly from the enormity of what he was about to do, and part of him wasn't even sure if he really wanted to go through with it once they had arrived. It was a ridiculous notion, and so inconceivable. How could it even be true? A District Inspector. Potentially involved in a series of kidnappings that has spanned over the last decade. It was ludicrous!

The thought stuck in him like a barbed spear, and brought him to question everything he stood for as an officer of the people. Yet the evidence was clear. The images he saw inside the mind of that low life thug, back on the orphanage's rooftop, was conclusive. Sarsso was involved in this. Whatever this was! Hopefully he would find his man unawares, and not have fled the city as he'd feared.

He fidgeted impatiently, unable to contain himself further, and caught sight of his ogre companion sitting quietly on the cart's floor. Baxi noted the amused look written across the beast's ugly features as Brutus watched the world pass by. His meaty legs sprawled out in front of him and his giant feet hung over the back of the wagon, idly rocking from side to side with the movement of the vehicle. A regular carriage was inadequate to transport them both, so the Inspector procured a passing tradesmen and had him ferry them both to Bangarrow, at personal cost. But the pressing needs of his investigation outweighed any worry for private finances. Baxi felt the services of this somewhat, reliable ogre, may still be needed, so the trade-off was more than compensated.

Brutus had indeed managed to find his way back to Bretol's Enforcer complex without killing the prisoner, much to the Inspector's surprise. He even managed to secure the kidnapper in a cell until Baxi arrived. Maybe he would have to put in a good word for the creature at the next promotion hearings?

Meanwhile, the Inspector had spent their time apart issuing orders to his men. He wanted them to secure the scene at the orphanage and scour the area for any possible clues, which he knew to be unlikely, but still worth trying.

The morning light gathered slowly, and soon the short cart ride from Bretol District was over. The pair found themselves standing before the entrance to Enforcer Headquarters with the diminishing sounds of trotting hooves echoing in their ears. Baxi drew a deep breath then strode forward, entering the large and imposing building as calmly as he could. The stomping mass that was Brutus, followed in his wake.

The pair stepped into a generous room that was sparsely furnished, and walked over to meet an officer seated behind a wooden desk, running the length of the room.

'Inspector Baxi of the Jyonti District Enforcers. I'm looking for Inspector Sarrso. Can you tell me which department he is located in please?' he asked formerly, whilst producing his credentials and proof of rank. The young officer glanced at the papers then looked warily at the menacing form of Brutus, towering behind the Inspector.

'You're a little ways from home, Inspector. Everything okay?' asked the officer.

Baxi eyed the youth cautiously for a second, fearing he was involved, but then instantly dismissed the notion as being foolish. Surely not all those employed in the Empire were corrupt?!

'Just a routine meeting regarding inter-district relations I'm afraid. Nothing exciting.' replied Baxi. The youth sighed in response.

'Oh, that's a shame. For a moment I thought your presence here was somehow linked to the traitor's escape. A new development perhaps?' Baxi's eyebrow raised at his statement.

'You know of my task?' The youth seemed surprised.

'Well of course I do, Inspector. Everyone knows the name Baxi around here. You've become something of a hero to us. Were all rooting for you to succeed, sir.'

Baxi smirked at the absurdity of his statement.

'Since when are heroes revered for losing their prey?' he said sardonically. The officer smiled.

'A minor setback I'm sure. Soon to be set right. Believe me when I say, you have our confidence, Inspector.'

Baxi allowed his smile to broaden further. He wasn't used to such praise, and found it highly invigorating.

'Then, by the Maidens' grace, I shall see it done.' he said poetically, giving a short bow. The officer nodded, then informed Baxi where the room was without any more questions. He offered to take them both there personally, but the offer was politely declined. Baxi left the youth without further comment.

From there, the pair made their way deeper into the building, drawing little more than a glance from the scant few occupants it contained. The streets of the great capital must have been busy today, for there were so few inside. Either that or extra resources the state was using to locate the traitor Leos must have been draining the system. Baxi still believed if the man could be found, he would no doubt lead them to the Prince's location, justifying the high demand of enforcers.

In any case, the reduced presence suited Baxi perfectly. Before long the Inspector found a door with the name of his suspect engraved upon its wooden surface.

Baxi took a final breath to steady his nerves, then entered the room, leaving the ogre to squeeze through the door by himself.

He breathed a sigh of relief to see Inspector Sarsso inside. The large oaf was sifting through a stack of paperwork littered across his desk. His tanned face was startled upon seeing Baxi appear, and for a moment he remained still.

'Inspector Baxi, well this is a surprise. For what do I owe the pleasure? You know it is customary for one to knock before entering.' he said dryly. Baxi instinctively scanned the room without replying, checking for any potential threat.

'I was just in the neighbourhood and wanted to check in.' he said nonchalantly.

'Been burning the midnight oil again, have we? Judging from you're rather, dishevelled appearance. I trust you're here with news of the traitor's capture?'

'Not exactly.' replied Baxi. His face remained cold as he moved closer to Sarsso, drawing a sneer of disgust from the Inspector.

'By Tumarr, what in all the Gods is that stench, man?' cried Sarsso. But his distress faltered when his eyes clapped onto the hulking form of Brutus, carefully squeezing his enormous bulk through the door.

'Ah, I should have known. Still courting with ruffians, I see. Really Baxi, a man of your stature should not be seen frequenting with such creatures. It's beneath you, not to mention degrading.' Baxi remained calm.

'I'm not here to discuss your old-fashioned views, Inspector.'

'Then please, for the love of Hamiya, tell me what it is you're doing here?' questioned Sarsso, with more than a hint of irritation in his voice.

Baxi remained silent for a moment, then walked back to the door and closed it calmly before turning to face his colleague, once the room was secure. He eyed Sarsso coolly for a moment longer as the ogre shuffled awkwardly out of the way, and perched himself in the room's corner. Sarsso looked between Brutus and Baxi, his face betrayed little emotion, but it was plain to see he was cautious.

'Enough with the secrecy. I can't bear it any longer. What all this about?' asked Sarrso in a more agitated tone. Inspector Baxi cleared his throat then began.

'Last night I was nearly killed by a group of thugs. They attacked me in the Bretol district-'

'So?' replied Sarsso harshly, 'it's an occupational hazard in our line of work I'm afraid.' Baxi tried to stay patient and continued.

'I've come looking for answers Sarrso. I know you can give me them to me.' Sarsso shuffled into a more comfortable position but kept his cool. It seemed he wasn't aware of anything yet.

'What in Belthor's name are you talking about?' he replied innocently, but Baxi pressed further.

'Men dressed in black. Carrying heavy sacks. They were taking children, Sarsso, from the only running orphanage in Bretol. A strange power commands the villains' movements. The like of which I've never felt in all my years. It lifted the children out of their beds while they were sleeping, and carried them out the window towards the roof as if they were made of feathers. If it wasn't for dear Brutus here, the kidnappers would have killed me for trying to intervene.'

Sarrso looked over to the ogre who straightened his leather vest. His face beamed with pride at being mentioned so heroically. He sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands down his face.

'Let me get this straight. You bungled an attempt to thwart some minor case of child-napping, instead of looking for the traitor, and barely escaped with your life? So what? I don't see what this has got to do with me-'

'It has everything to do with you!' stated Baxi, cutting the other man short after finally losing his patience, and slammed both hands down onto the Inspector's desk.

'I mind-read one of the assailants, Sarrso. I looked within to see who he worked for, and you know what I found? Your bloated face staring back!'

'That's preposterous.' began Sarsso, his face starting to redden at the insult, but Baxi kept pressing.

'What's going on here, Inspector? What are you involved with? Don't try to pretend.' he snarled angrily.

Sarrso's round face grew flush with anger at being spoken to so disrespectfully. He rose out of his chair to meet Baxi's eye.

'How dare you come here into my district and accuse me of such things!' he said through gritted teeth. Baxi met his gaze with matching fury.

'Don't play games. You've been exposed. The villain I've detained has enough information to put you down for good!'

'And you think that's enough to charge me?'

'More than enough. You know as well as I, a mind-read can be submitted in a court of law as evidence.' A cruel smile split the Inspector's chubby face, pushing his eyes into slits.

'You can't threaten me, Baxi,' he said smugly, 'it would never come to that. We know how dangerous the Cowldonian prison system is. Death rates have been very high of late. It doesn't take much for one of our colleagues to get a little over excited and oops, another prisoner crushed.'

Baxi held the man's stare a moment longer then stepped back, looking at Brutus. His pupils dilated as Sarsso's words brought a strange thought to his mind.

'So, it was your fault the traitor was beaten mercilessly?' he whispered, 'you gave the order before leaving.'

'What did you say?' growled Sarsso. Baxi looked back at him, though his gaze seemed distant.

'It was you wasn't it? You tried to have the traitor killed. That's why you were reassigned. To cover your tracks. An ogre's mind can never be read, it's too chaotic to decipher. Nobody would believe their word against yours if an accident occurred. You could deny the whole thing.'

'I don't know what you're talking about, Baxi.'

'Oh I think you do, Inspector. You were trying to kill, Leos, all along, weren't you? And simply put the blame on the ogres for being careless. But something went wrong. The traitor struck back. The only question is why? Why was he such a threat?'

'He was a traitor to our nation. Deserved of death.'

'That's not it. There's more to it than that. What was he to you?'

'You are confused, Baxi. Desperate to find some tenuous link to the case-'

'Is it because you kidnapped him from the orphanage, all those years ago? Was he going to expose your crimes?'

'This is absurd. Your accusations are completely unfounded. Not to mention disrespectful-' Baxi grabbed the man's shirt and pulled him close, fixing him with a steely gaze.

'What happened after you took him from the orphanage, Sarsso? What horrors did you expose him and all those other children to? Did you hand them over to the Trians? Are they the ones who turned them against the Empire? Speak to me, you gutless cur.'

'You need to stand down right now, Inspector. So help me, I'll see you hung up from the highest rafters of the Empire.' Baxi sighed deeply and relaxed his grip.

'Fine, I understand. I can see this is getting us nowhere.' he said calmly, letting the man go. Baxi turned to face his ogre companion, slouching in the room's corner.

'Brutus, I think it's time you dusted off that shiny baton of yours, don't you think?' he said suddenly.

The ogre's round head snapped up upon hearing his name then grunted in confusion. Baxi smiled at the brute and secretly jabbed his thumb towards Sarsso.

'Well, go ahead, Brutus, it's ok. Why don't you show the Inspector here how it works? I'm sure he'd love to see a, demonstration.'

The ogre's dumb face looked blankly between Baxi and Sarsso for a time. His tiny brain struggled to digest what was being asked of him. One boss wanted him to club the other boss, and it was alright? But he wasn't supposed to club the bosses. Or any of the Enforcers. He was an ogre and ogres were supposed to protect the little folk? It was all too much for the dimwit to take in, and he scratched his head in confusion.

Baxi saw the creature's dilemma and shook his head. He should he explained to the ogre outside what his intentions may have been, to avoid any potential embarrassment.

He walked over to Brutus then touched one of his enormous hands. The skin on skin contact was enough for Baxi to send his companion a telepathic image in his head.

At last something clicked, and the ogre's perplexed features twisted into a brooding smile, that revealed a mouth full of missing teeth.

Brutus flicked the latch off his retaining clip then unhooked the heavy club from his belt, enjoying the feel of it in his shovel-like hand. Sarrso tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. With a flick of his wrist the ogre smashed the baton against the wall, narrowly missing Baxi's head in the process, and broke the tiny stones embedded into the baton's wooden surface, enveloping the weapon in a crackling sheaf of lilac fire.

Brutus lunged for Sarrso, and caught the Inspector square in the chest, causing him to wail in discomfit as the baton stung him.

'Baxi, you mad man! What are you doing? Call off your pet immediately!' cried Sarrso, clutching at his burning chest. He scrambled away, but the ogres reach was vast, and once again the baton lashed out, this time catching his arm. Brutus grunted with glee the whole time, clearly enjoying himself. He found the combined smell of burnt skin and the baton's flames highly intoxicating as it filled his nostrils.

'Why did you kidnap the children, Sarsso? tell me!' demanded Baxi.

'I don't know what you're talking about!' replied Sarrso defiantly.

Another lash from the ogre sent him sprawling across the room, knocking him senseless. Sarrso barely had to recover before he felt the crushing weight of Brutus's hand clamp around his throat. In an unbelievable show of strength, the ogre lifted the obese Inspector up off the ground and held him steady. Sarrso writhed helplessly as his feet dangled in the air. He struggled to breath and tried desperately to break free, hitting the ogre's hands to little effect. Brutus's grip was like iron, and the ogre smiled menacingly as he jabbed the Inspector again with his polar baton, this time in the stomach. Baxi moved closer and watched the proceedings without comment.

Once he was satisfied, Baxi commanded the ogre to release the man. Brutus sighed, he was having too much fun, but obeyed reluctantly when ordered a second time. Sarsso's fat body crashed to the floor as Brutus finally let go of his grip. He clutched at his throat whilst gasping for air and agreed to talk.

'Ok, Rymund, you win. I'll tell you what I know.' he spluttered.

Baxi patted his companion on the chest, then told the ogre to stand down. He walked calmly towards the gibbering wreck and squatted next to him as he spoke.

'I don't work for the Trians, Baxi. My heart is loyal to Cowldonia. The children are being used in some sort of project. An experiment. To secure the future of the Empire. It's been running for decades. Its secrecy is of the highest order. Not even the Emperor knows of its existence.' Baxi frowned.

'A project that's hidden from our own Emperor. What kind of experiment is it?'

'I'm not entirely sure. They've created some kind of treatment. It makes better soldiers. Stronger, faster men. Far superior to that of a Trian. Leos was one of the first. But his lack of progress deemed him a failure.'

'And the Trians? What have they got to do with all this?'

'I don't know for sure. It's something to do with the power they possess. The energy they call Kier. The experiment used hosts in an attempt to replicate it somehow, but it never worked.' Baxi looked confused

'Replicate Kier? But that goes against all of our teachings. The Tu'marr family prohibited our use of it. Your talking blasphemy, Sarsso. Of the highest kind.' Sarsso began chuckling quietly.

'Please, my dear Rymund. Not everybody shares your staunch religious views. It matters not where it hails. Power is still power.'

'But why children Sarsso? Why take those innocent souls?'

'The treatment they use doesn't work on adults. A mature body won't accept it. The process kills them out right. That's why they need the children. The treatment is administered over time, in miniscule doses so the body won't reject it. It takes years to achieve. That's why they chose orphans. Nobody cares if a few random children were kidnapped, so the supply is plenty and the money, oh the money... It would set you up for life.' Baxi ground his teeth.

'But why did you try to kill Leos before his trial? He was going to die anyway. Why hasten his death?'

'I don't know why. The orders came from above. I was just doing as commanded.'

Baxi shook his head again in disgust. He wrenched the still flaming baton from Brutus's hand and thrust it two-handed, into Sarsso's chest.

'You honourless scum! Who's running the operation, Sarrso? tell me!' he hissed, pushing harder. Sarsso wailed as the lilac flames burned his flesh.

'I don't know...'

'Tell me!' shouted Baxi, striking the side of Sarsso's head.

The commotion drew unwanted attention from outside. Soon the sound of thumping fists striking against the door rang forth, followed by worried calls. Sarsso cried for help, until Baxi hit him again.

'Brutus! Secure the door. Don't let anyone get in here. Hurry!'

The ogre was surprisingly quick to respond, and made to leave just as the door burst open. The charging guard that entered stopped in his tracks as a meaty hand enveloped his face and thrust him back out. Brutus smashed through the doorway, taking half the frame with him as he effortlessly pushed the bemused guard to the floor. His ugly face twisted into a snarl as a group of enforcers hurried to their comrade's aid, and placed himself in front of the gaping hole with arms crossed.

'Boss says none shall enter. Understand?' he bellowed angrily, causing the remaining men to falter. Each of them shared a worried look, unsure how to proceed.

Inside, Baxi was still pushing Sarsso for answers, and had since discarded the now useless baton, its fire now spent. He placed a hand upon Sarsso's bleeding head.

'Tell me the name, or I'll fry your mind.' he hissed.

'Rymond, I swear. I don't know. The man who recruited me has since been removed from my mind. Every time I look back, the image is gone. But his voice somehow remains. He told me that I would be looked after if I agreed to help. And that every few months I would get a message, requesting more subjects and where to get them. The men you encountered last night work for me. I pay them to collect.'

'Don't want to get your chubby hands dirty, eh?' said Baxi. Sarsso shrugged between ragged breaths.

'I saw a tunnel wreathed in shadow. Is that where you take them?'

'Yes. The testing laboratory is located underground, here in the capital. The entrance is located at the old sewer outlet in Gosland Woods. You can follow it to the lab. Just head straight until you reach the treatment facility, then bare north. The entrance is located behind an iron bulkhead, numbered 201.'

Baxi's eyes narrowed as he looked at the other man, disgusted with his actions.

'The Dark Uncle be merciful for what you have done, Inspector!' he said darkly.

Baxi quickly leapt onto Sarsso and pinned the Inspector to the floor. He pressed his bony fingers firmly onto Sarsso's head, then using his mental power, invaded his mind.

Sarsso's swollen body writhed uselessly on the floor as he tried to shake Baxi off, but his attempts were in vain. His limbs become increasingly heavy as Baxi began to shut his mind down, putting the man into a coma-like sleep.

When it was done, Baxi sat quietly for a time, staring at the unconscious Inspector sprawled across the floor. Drops of warm moisture rolled down his bald head, which he wiped away with a swipe of his hand. The exertion had taken a heavy toll upon his mind. The aftershock of the action punished him severely. Baxi quickly took several sips from his last bottle of fogberry juice, conscious its contents were getting low, and tried to steady his breathing. He would have to renew his supply, before this was over.

After a few agonising moments, calmness returned, and Baxi got to his feet. He took the time to dust off his striped brown trousers, then straightened his waistcoat before making for the door.

'Let's go, Brutus.' he said firmly, trying to mask the frailty in his voice, and waited patiently as the ogre shifted his immense mass out of the way.

When Baxi stepped out into the corridor, he was greeted by a group of very nervous looking guards holding batons, staring warily at him.

'You men are to stand down immediately.' he said with renewed vigour,

'Says who?' replied one of the men. Baxi fixed him with a hard stare.

'Inspector Baxi, Jyonti District Inspector. I'm taking charge of this incident. You men are now bound to my authority. That man there is to be tried for crimes against our country, and must be secured at once until further notice.'

The guards looked wearily between the sparling body of Inspector Sarsso and Baxi.

'You've killed him.' one of them said. Baxi shook his head.

'He's fine. I've just put him in a mind-coma for safety. He cannot wake, unless I restore him. Now, Go. And await further instructions. Brutus, follow me. We have a sewer to find.'

*****

They left immediately, and headed for the place Sarrso described after commandeering yet another cart for the two of them to travel in. Thankfully it was a short journey. Gosland Wood lay at the edge of the city's western border, and by mid-morning the pair were already negotiating the dense woodland foliage in search of the abandoned sewer outlet. Baxi had a vague idea where it was located, so took the lead finding the tunnel.

His instincts proved true, and before long the two officers were standing before a large, exposed tunnel of stone blocks at the base of a high embankment. The outlet for the capital's sewage system was easily large enough for a wagon to pass through. Its lower half ran wet with water.

Baxi looked into the dark hole which stretched off beyond sight and sneered at the faint odour emanating from it. He wasn't sure what they would find inside, but whatever it was, he was ready to uncover it.

'Stay alert. We don't know what to expect. Understand?' he said to the ogre, who grunted in response, unhooking a fresh polar baton from his belt.

Baxi set forth into the outlet with Brutus in tow. Together, amongst the darkness and the reek of sloshing water, the pair slowly made their way into the unknown.
D.R. Hurley

Twenty Nine

The magnificent White Army of the Cowldonian Empire met little resistance as it swept into the Trian settlement of Hythrall in a tide of righteous fury.

Balls of crackling green energy rained down from above as the first wave of troops careered through the now ruined gatehouse, causing numerous explosions amidst the ranks of the invaders. But the fizzing projectiles were too few in number, and most were absorbed by the armoured plates of the mechanical horses.

The heavy cavalry smashed into the defenders' hastily formed line without falter, leaving a trail of choking fumes in their wake. The unstoppable mass of steel charged deep into the open grounds of the market sector, where the slaughter truly began.

It started with a torrent of ear-splitting cracks that wrought the air asunder, as riders fired multi-barrelled pistols into the mass of screaming Trians, desperate to get away. Bodies were hacked down mercilessly as they fled, regardless of age or gender. The Cowl slaughtered them all. The first wave pressed hard to maintain the attack. Within minutes, a large portion of the market district had fallen to their rampage.

Captain Offidus leaned down from his charging mount and caught a brown furred Trian square in the chest with his metal arm. The horrific impact made the veteran officer grimace, as the Trian was knocked from his feet. Offidius swore he could feel the tremor of breaking bones run through his arm as the creature's rib cage shattered.

A rousing cheer from behind caused the man to turn in his saddle. He was flabbergasted to see a stream of wagons pouring through the gatehouse. The next wave had arrived early.

Marcus, you Fool! What have you done? Your desire to claim victory has clouded your mind. You've come too soon. We'll be drowned by the weight of our own numbers!

Offidius knew each of Hythrall's districts were separated via a series of connecting stone walls and decided to get his men out before the swell of troops trapped him. It riled him to leave the first part of his mission unfinished. His orders were to clear the market area so the next wave could concentrate on the garrison situated in the north, but what choice did he have? Marcus's impetuous decision to move forward had forced his hand. He had to get his men out of there before they were swamped.

After quickly locating the nearest gate, the officer rallied his forces and led them towards the open plains of Hythrall's farming district, choosing to ignore the scattered groups of remaining defenders still swarming the area. The veteran felt his anger rise, and cursed the General for being so reckless.

As he and his men left the market area, the second wave came under fire from the Trains and the Cowl started taking losses as the wagons unloaded their cargo.

Dozens of grim-faced soldiers lost their lives to a hail of fizzing energy as they poured into the market area. But the invaders pressed on regardless. Wading through the sea of explosions with chants of valour on their lips. The Cowldonians were hungry for blood. And quickly set about their dark work.

*****

Trian guards stationed along the ruined gatehouse watched helplessly as the soldiers from this new wave assaulted the northern garrison, and set to the task of breaching its stone walls. The Cowldonians were probably trying to secure the dam before it was used, but none among them could fathom why it hadn't yet been released. Was there a problem with the mechanism?

As they continued the barrage onto the attackers, the guards' fears turned to horror as a large part of the enemy force suddenly broke free from the main group and headed south into the housing district.

The Trians' hearts sank low, knowing what damage those monsters would inflict on the hapless citizens residing there. They spoke prayers to mighty Slarr in hopes of rescue. Grinding their teeth angrily, the guards continued their relentless fire from above with renewed vigour, casting more balls of energy down to the invaders, felling many of the lightly armoured attackers. Their victory was short lived.

The strange wraith-like creatures, who so easily tore open the enormous bronze gates, had remained motionless in the air since their initial attack. Now they moved forward to intercept this meagre threat. A wave a power burst out from the ground as they landed inside the gatehouse parapet, hurling bodies high into the air. The Trians reacted quickly to this new danger, and tried in vain to target the beast's with blasts of Kier. But the creatures were too agile to be hit.

They somersaulted and weaved amongst the guards, battering some of the searing projectiles away with a mere swipe of their clawed hands, while most were simply avoided. The defenders fought bravely, and charged headlong into this strange foe. And quickly realised they were hopelessly outmatched. It didn't take long for their bodies to fall over the parapet and find death at the feet of charging horses.

*****

The Cowl brought more wagons into the battle, as troops from the second wave filtered away. This latest batch of reinforcements bore large catapults bolted to the wooden chassis. Further wagons laden with purple rocks, rolled up beside them, and were carefully loaded onto the heavy weapons. The men were cautious not to drop the volatile stones. They were the same rocks used to power the Enforcer polar batons and would burn fiercely once shattered.

At a word of command, the rocks were hurled into the enemy buildings, smashing through roofs and crumbling walls. An explosion of lilac fire erupted soon after. The fire quickly spread amongst the dry thatched roofs, sending plumes of black smoke into the air.

As the great brass gongs of Hythrall continued to ring loudly over the sounds of battle, dozens of families ran screaming through the narrow streets of the housing district, desperate to get away from the carnage. But the Cowldonians set too them without mercy, running everyone down as they fled for their lives. Goods scattered across the dusty ground as traders abandoned their stalls. Some brave individuals banded together and made hasty barricades, ready to protect their nation.

As the White Army spread into the built-up areas, they found many pockets of resistance. The brave defenders fought bitterly against the crushing tide, but were little more than an annoyance.

Captain Parmen relished the thought of all the slaughter that was to come and charged headlong into this hated foe, howling with glee. His bloodshot eyes sought death whenever possible and were promptly rewarded. He carved a bloody ruin through the narrow streets. It mattered not who he fought. His secret prayers to the Dark Uncle were answered this day. And he would send many offerings back to his lord in gratitude.

*****

Elsewhere, the slaughter raged on. Cowldonian troops had taken most of the settlement and were in the final stages of the assault. The small garrison of soldiers stationed at Hythrall were all but destroyed by the organised ranks of General Zion's forces. The last remains of the defence had become driven into isolated groups, scattered throughout the denser areas. They would soon fall.

Prefect Tullyus commanded a dwindling force of troops at the lower levels of the garrison's southern wall. He'd left the safety of the Rayamthos Dam to help coordinate the defence, but his resources were all but spent. It wouldn't be long before they were overrun. Most of the day watch were dead, along with the small amount soldiers he'd precured from the garrison, and the Cowldonians' numbers seemed limitless.

His crackling blade sliced through the body of a grey uniformed soldier with ease, as he charged energy through it. The fallen body was the last of a small group of invaders and gave him precious moments to recoup.

Tullyus's feline eyes struggled to cut through the drifting smoke that was littering the battlefield. If it wasn't for his excellent hearing the Trian would have been crushed by a headless creature that charged out of the smoke straight towards him. He jumped back in time, narrowly avoiding the thing as it thundered past uncontrolled. It drove itself through a partially collapsed wall before toppling over. Plumes of steam escaped into the air as the machine's engine finally gave way. As the dust settled, he spied movement to his right.

'You two, here now!' he yelled to a pair of battle-weary soldiers running to the front line.

'I'm re-assigning you. Take a message to Altrad immediately. Tell Master Rykun that Hythrall is lost. The Empire has struck without warning and ruined our defence with an overwhelming force. It is imperative Trian's armies gather in full to stop this attack. The Cowldonians have declared war. We must rise to meet them.' The soldiers' panic-stricken faces stared back intently.

'But the enemy has us overrun, it's impossible to flee.' replied one of the soldiers. The Prefect fixed the youth with a hard stare.

'Head up to the Eastern Turret. Take the abandoned trail which skirts along the northern face of the Belt. Follow it until you are free. Hopefully, the Cowl are blind to its existence. Go now! Stop only to warn other settlements of the attack. Tell them to prepare.'

The two soldiers listened intently to their commander's words whilst trying to regain their breath. The younger of them was clearly distressed, and stared wide eyed at the surrounding chaos. Her tail was rigid with fear. Tullyus saw her unease, and placed a reassuring paw on her shoulder. He looked into the doe's eyes to regain her attention.

'Do you understand? You must go with all speed. The fate of Trian lies with you both.' he said softly. The two Trians exchanged nervous glances, then nodded in agreement.

Satisfied, Tullyus ushered them away, and stood watching for a moment as the pair quickly made their way towards the steep path trailing up into the mountains.

Suddenly, a sentry tower close by exploded as a projectile smashed into it, raining hundreds of stone shards onto the ground. Tullyus reacted quickly. He brought his vambraces together and charged them with Kier to produce a small shield. The hasty barrier protected him from the worst of the blast. Yet he still felt the sting of debris peppering his white fur.

A troop of enemy soldiers swarmed the remains of the building, carrying blood stained swords, and charged towards him.

Tullyus spun his glaive in response, then readied himself with a silent prayer to his deity. A great leap sent him high into the air and over the heads of the charging troops. He focused his mind then let lose a fizzing ball of green Kier energy from his paw, which exploded amongst the invaders. When he landed, Tullyus leapt back into the ranks of disorientated men and let fly with his glaive, hacking and slicing with brutal efficiency.

He charged more energy into the weapon, making the blade glow white, and tore through his foe. Slashing down at one soldier's arm, he removed it cleanly from his body, before turning to decapitate another with a two-handed swing.

Soldiers fell as quickly as they came. Their numbers were useless against the cramp confines of the narrow walls. Tullyus was able to funnel their masses to his advantage. But the constant use of Keir brought a terrible toll on his body and before long, his strength was all but spent.

Sensing his danger, the old warrior channelled the last of his power into his weapon before striking its pommel onto the crimson ground, releasing a blast of energy that radiated in all directions. The short wave sent a dozen soldiers tumbling. Some fell over the parapet, giving him time to get clear. It was in this moment he noticed a small group of citizens running up to meet him, armed with the crudest of weapons. They leapt onto the Cowldonian soldiers before they had a chance to recover, cutting them down mercilessly in a matter of seconds.

Tullyus leaned heavily on his weapon as the last of the grey uniformed invaders fell, taking the time to recover. He rallied his reinforcements and began issuing orders for them to flee, despite their protest. Though not strictly soldiers, every citizen of Trian was required to maintain frequent military training throughout their lives. This group was a collection of workers from a nearby plantation who managed to arm themselves with the short blades used for their daily work. Either way he was glad of their aid, but sent them on their way to gather as many survivors as possible before fleeing.

Once again Tullyus found himself alone. The old Prefect looked down from the walls and felt his heart break to see such carnage unfolding everywhere. His people could do nothing to halt the maelstrom of death. He wondered how mighty Slarr could let this thing happen to his children.

Amongst this moment of panic, an idea struck him which he hoped might buy some time. He cast his eyes back towards the distant mass of the Rayamthos Defence and knew exactly what to do.

*****

Captain Offidius admired the tenacity of his opponents. The Trian citizens fought valiantly and with honour, but they lacked the disciplined ranks of an organised defence. They became quickly overrun by the crushing weight of numbers lined against them. He drove his men across the open fields of the farming district with little resistance.

The Empire's colours flew high as he led the charge. Its banner flapped proudly in the wind, yet he felt no pride in his work that day. There was no honour to be found in this slaughter, nor acts of valour. This senseless violence was nothing more than simple butchery. It sickened him to be part of it. He focussed his attacks only on those who resisted, directing his men away from the hundreds of defenceless Trians fleeing. It wasn't long before he and his men had secured the farmlands.

Satisfied his mission complete, Offidius positioned his men out of view in a nearby valley, just inside Hythrall's eastern border. He set a watch on the higher ground to scan the neighbouring lands, in case a Trian counter strike was sent in. The remainder of his men used the time to regroup. Checking weapons and tending to the wounded. Others simply rested. Grateful of the respite.

For a while, Offidius sat motionless atop his metal horse, looking across the endless mountain range that dominated the horizon. The engine in his mount's stomach was set to idle to conserve fuel. Gentle wisps of black smoke drifted out of the mechanical steed's twin exhausts, staining the air as he rested. The stench went unnoticed to him, as he reflected on the day's barbaric outcome. He didn't know how long they'd been fighting, but suspected several hours had passed since the opening attack.

As his thoughts wandered, the grizzled Captain spied a group of Brer's charging across the fields south of his position. His eyes were drawn to a mass of tiny specs, spilling out of the burning housing district, and onto the open landscape. The screams of terror were lost to the wind as the former citizens of Hythrall fled their dying city. A blessing which the Captain repaid with a silent prayer to Belthor. Thankful that the Great provider chose to keep him from hearing their torment.

He pitied the poor creatures. It need not have been this way. If he was in command, then negotiations would have stretched further to prevent this needless bloodshed. But he wasn't. His grim thoughts soon turned to horror, as he saw the source of the groups torment.

A body of grey soldiers had charged into the fields in pursuit of new prey. Swords waved frantically back and forth as the soldiers began hacking at the Trians without pause. Offidius reached for the view glass stowed on his mount and pressed it to his face. He quickly picked out the tattered fabric of the troops blood-stained banners and ground his teeth. It was the fourteenth battalion. Captain Parmen's unit.

The servos in his metal arm whined as his fist clenched at the sight of those cowards killing defenceless civilians. It seemed the cur was happy to invoke such cowardly tactics upon his foes, despite the dishonour it brought to the Empire.

Offiduis was not blind to his companion's heavy-handed approach to battle, but had never had the pleasure of witnessing it first-hand. His old eyes watched in horror at the devastation Parmen was causing. His troops hacked down people of all ages, like they were wheat in a field. Scores of Trians were run through as they fled. Some pleaded on their knees. Begging for mercy. They were shown none in return. The soldiers of the fourteenth waded into the mass of terrified civilians without remorse and worst of all, seemed to be enjoying it. This was not soldiering. It was murder. It appalled Offidius to think his countryman would entertain such barbarism.

Without thinking, he kicked the power regulator on his metal steed back into life and galloped away, cursing his colleague's name to the Gods. Vents in the machines belly glowed fiercely, as he gunned the things fuel cells to maximum output.

The grassy fields trembled in his wake as the officer charged towards the fourteenth's position, and the unmistakable form of its leader.

Offidius quickly singled Parmen out from the rest of his brigands as he closed the distance. The cowardly dog was busy hacking down a group of defenceless Trians, despite their pleas for mercy. He clearly revelled in the carnage he was inflicting. He reached for the pistol holstered in his mount's neck, and started firing shots into the air to get their attention. Most of the soldiers looked up from their butchery and paused at the senior officer's ranting. All except from Parmen. Drunk from his bloodlust, the youth continued to strike at the unmoving body of his latest victim with a blood ridden sword.

Outraged by his insolence, Offidius fired a shot into the dead Trian's chest before the man could strike again. He yelled louder.

'By all that is good, stop this savagery at once, Captain!'

Parmen turned to face this new threat, panting hard. The youth's bloodshot eyes were filled with so much rage. It took him several long moments to realise this was not an enemy, but a fellow Cowldonian.

The officer finally raised his sword in mock salute towards his comrade, then thrust the blade deep into a dead Train's chest. He wiped the gore off his face with a piece of fabric he ripped from another body.

'What do you think you are doing here soldier?' bellowed Offidius from atop his mount. His wrinkled face was flushed with anger.

A sly grin split the youth's features before he turned his back on the man, ignoring the outrage. He retrieved his weapon and began cleaning it on the Trian's robes, chuckling to himself.

Offidius was further offended by this deliberate show of disrespect and lost control of his temper. Leaping down from his mount, he quickly crossed the ground between them both, and grabbed the insolent cur by the shoulder, pulling him back. Parmen was quick to react, and brought his sword to bear, only to have it caught in the steel grip of Offidius's metal arm. A gout of steam vented into the air as the tiny gyros in his fingers tightened their grip around the blade, fixing the weapon.

'Belthor's teeth, look at yourself man! Your supposed to be a Soldier of Cowldonia! Not some mindless barbarian. There is no honour in this murder you are committing. You soil the very colours upon your breast!'

The piston in his arm hissed as he pushed the man away. Parmen stumbled back, weaponless, but maintained his balance.

'Murder?' he replied between gasps of air, 'you think this is murder? These Skritts seek only the time to regroup and rearm. Once gathered, they will return and fall upon our flanks like the cowards they are.' Offidius was stunned by the man's delirium, and shook his head.

'Regroup? Hamiya's blood! There are children and elderly here. What possible threat do you think they could have posed?' he said, thrusting the sword into the compacted earth. Parmen brushed his hair damp hair back with a sweep of his hand. He straightened his tunic, rubbing the worst of the blood caked dirt from his uniform and began walking around Offidius with a causal gait, choosing not to avoid the fallen bodies sprawled across the ground. He simply trod on them knowing this would aggravate his comrade further

'It matters not their age. They are all just as dangerous. The General gave me the task of clearing the housing district. And I will do so as I see fit.' he said darkly, reaching for his sword.

Offidius remained still the whole time, but kept his eyes on him.

'It grieves me to think you see valour in your actions. Yet you could not be more wrong.'

Parmen chuckled at the comment.

'My will is set, Captain. My heart true. I suggest you look to achieving your own objectives. Leave me to do mine.'

'Who are you to tell me what to do, boy!' Parmen smiled deviously.

'I think my family's reputation would be enough for you to guess. Now If you'll excuse me, I must be getting along.'

The young Captain left his senior with a wry smile, then began shouting orders to his troops. The men of the fourteenth quickly regrouped, then left the area, vanishing into the smoke-filled housing area to carry on with their grim work.

Offidius breathed slowly, barely able to suppress his anger.

'This is not the end of it.' he muttered.

*****

The stone passage descended further into the depths of the Rayamthos Dam, leaving behind the distant sounds of battle with every step taken.

Tullyus panted hard as he followed the endless spiral of steps leading into the darkness. The various wounds he'd sustained, combined with the amount of expended Kier energy had taken a heavy toll upon his body, making it difficult to proceed. Yet proceed he must. Hythrall's only hope was to release the dam and by the guidance of Slarr he would release it! Even if it meant his own life was forfeit.

Eventually he reached the main chamber located underneath dam, and stared up into the conical surface of the basin with hope. He could see the gates were disabled, and the stone counterweights missing, but that didn't matter. There was another way to release the waters.

In a brief moment of respite, he began to wonder what had happened to the soldiers he'd sent down earlier to release the dam's gates. He glanced around the cavern, but there was no sign of life. Tullyus did not have time to query, and set his mind back to the task at hand.

Gathering the last of his might, the Prefect summoned a ball of energy between his paws, then threw it towards the thick stone ceiling around the gates. The ball was weak, but exploded in a shower of dust right where he wanted. Chucks of stone fell through the air, whilst streams of water sprayed out through new cracks under pressure. But the wall was much too thick and failed to breach.

Tullyus coughed and spluttered as the chamber filled with dust. His body felt weary from his exertions, but he still had enough strength to release one final blast. One strike, and the wall should break, flooding the chamber with a billion gallons of water. Since the bronze gates of Hythrall were no more, the water should spill into the settlement. Hopefully it would submerge the attackers, maybe buying his people sometime. It was risky. The swell might also claim the lives of innocent Trians. But what choice did he have? The windswept halls of Ramool would always welcome him later.

He uttered a prayer to Slarr, praying for his forgiveness, then let fly with a final blast. The green ball flew through the air at speed, hissing and crackling as it went towards its target. Tullyus's aim was true once again. The blast would have exploded on impact. However, it didn't.

The Prefect's feline eyes went wide as he saw the ball stop suddenly in the air, mere inches from the ceiling. In desperation, he managed to release another blast of energy at the same point, draining his life force in the process. Tullyus collapsed from the effort, his body was utterly spent, and tumbled to the ground. He managed to look up and saw the ball had stopped short, just like the others. Cursing in his native tongue, the bemused Trian had never seen such a thing happen in all his long years. His eyes filled with moisture knowing his plan had failed. It was then, amongst his despair, he heard something.

A voice hissed out at him from behind. He turned, but found nothing. Again, the voice sounded, this time louder, closer. Tullyus rolled onto his front and used his shaking arms to lift himself up onto his knees. He scanned the area, but he was completely alone. His feline eyes darted wildly around the room and his breath shortened.

The voice began again and this time it was joined by others. Hissing a string of unfamiliar words, in a language he did not understand. The Prefect soon realised the words were not in the air, but instead in his mind. He squeezed his temples firmly, trying to shut them out. The voices persisted and grew louder still, scratching his mind. He wailed, unable to take the pain. His eyes fell onto the gaping hole in the chambers centre, and gasped.

A pale creature floated silently in the air above the void. He recognised it as one of the things that tore open the bronze gates. He watched helplessly as the thing drifted slowly towards him. The voices in his head moved as the creature did. Tullyus knew it was the source of his unrest and screamed at it too stop. The wraith-like being continued its mind assault until it came to a halt, several feet before him. The taught strands of tight muscle covering its body were blistered with tiny marks of purple, scattered around its thighs and forearms.

Tullyus looked up at its large head, the monster had no mouth, just a short mass of dangling tentacles that twitched occasionally. The thing looked down at him for a moment. It then turned its foul gaze upon the two spinning globes of energy, still frozen in place. A long arm reached out and the balls moved towards it, merging into one as they flew. This new orb landed in the creature's palm, who cradled it gentle between its clawed fingers. Such power, such control. Tullyus had never seen anything like it.

Its hand tightened slightly around the ball, crushing it slowly into a black sphere of concentrated energy, before letting go. It remained hovering above the creatures open palm, until it flicked its other fingers in Tuyllus's direction. The orb did as commanded. It flew with incredible speed towards the Prefect, hitting him square in the chest. The beaten plate of his bronze amour did nothing to protect Tullyus. Part of his torso was vaporised instantly by the dark orb. His body slumped down to the ground in a mangled heap before he even knew he was dead.

The being looked down on him. It stood silently for a moment without moving. The briefest wriggle of its tentacle maw was all the emotion it betrayed. Then slowly, it headed up the steps the dead Prefect had just came, and back towards the sounds of battle.

D.R. Hurley

Thirty

King Marrius walked calmly along the city streets, waving happily to the adoring people of Anthrea as he and his family attended the traditional ceremony of naming. The Lady Darnto took her place close to the King's side, along with their three children; Johnas, Hythan and Lyanna. The youngest of which walked nervously in her father's illustrious shadow, happy in the knowledge she would never have to bear the enormous burden of being a ruler.

A gentle nudge to her arm, brought her green eyes down to see the wet snout of a white-haired creature nuzzling her. Argoed spoke silent words of encouragement inside of her mind. He was hoping to reassure the child that one day she too may have to undergo the same ceremony with her children, should she ever take her father's place. The girl scowled, then ushered the young cub away for being so ridiculous. She would never see the throne. Her brothers had seen to that. Though secretly, she was thankful her life was not bound to it. It was a pressure she'd always feared.

The young snow lion dropped to the rear of the group and re-joined the rest of his pack. Their giant forms walked proudly behind the Royal party as they made their way through the snow-covered streets. One for every family member. Arzon, the packs Alpha, looked down upon the pup disapprovingly as he returned to his place.

'Do not leave the pack and commune with your life-bound Argoed, until after the ceremony. Understand!'

The deep voice of the pack's leader echoed loudly throughout the young pup's mind, making him lower his head in shame for not thinking. Arzon grunted softly, happy he had made his point to the cub. The king's Ennir was the largest and oldest of the group. He had stood by Lord Marrius since his birth, centuries ago, and took his role in traditions very seriously.

The Royal party arrived before a great alter of red wood, erected in the centre of Anthrea's enormous public square. Atop it stood the high priest of Puella, and an acolyte, who held a fine box in his arms. They both greeted the party in the customary way, then beckoned the family to take their places upon the giant structure. The snow lions also followed suit, under the direction of Arzon's silent words, aligning themselves either side of the altar as the Darntos made ready.

Thousands of people had gathered from across the realm to witness the ancient ceremony. The blessing of the Monarchs in the eyes of the Maidens was a tradition every Royal member had to go through. This time it was Lyanna who had finally come of age to be recognised as a potential ruler. The high priest presented the King with a set of small objects, taken out of the fine wooden box once all were settled.

The Hibernian Flowers shone brightly in the sun light. A set of exquisitely wrought broaches made out of the finest silvers and gems in all the lands. A gift bourn to every member of the family since the elder days, and solidified their status as a future leader of the land.

The King came first, presented by the high priest, then so came the Queen, whose broach was worn as a hair piece, and finally the boys Johnas and Hythan. Lyanna was yet to receive hers, so waited till last.

When it was time, the High Priest retrieved the last flower from the box and passed it to the king, who then asked Lyanna to step forward. The girl nervously obeyed, doing her best not to look at the huge mass of onlookers. She stood before her father with trembling hands as the priest began reciting the sacred vows of the sermon.

The King smiled warmly at his daughter and dropped to one knee, placing his hands around the child to steady her nerve. He positioned the flower above her left ear, just as her mother wore, then rubbed his daughters check affectionately with his finger.

'This day is yours. Remember it.' he whispered...

Lyanna tried hard not to let her emotions get the better of her. She remembered how she wanted that moment to last forever, standing proudly with her family amidst the adorning cheers as the public rejoiced. It was a moment so precious to her, and so wonderful. Yet it remained little more than a distant memory.

Slowly, a little hand came off the smooth surface of the telling stone, ending the dream. Lyanna opened her moist eyes to the familiar sight of Lord Ellious and his gathered dignitaries, staring back. She tried to compose herself, but it was plain to see she was upset. The thoughts within had been buried deep for years, and drew a tear from her emerald eyes. She felt the hand of the palace Medion leave her shoulder before confirming to the steward the memory was real. Lyanna wanted to scream at the fool,

Of course it was real! she thought angrily, but held her tongue. A hundred faces stared back at her in anticipation, watching quietly for what would happen next.

Leos also watched closely with bated breath. The last few days of his confinement had been an utter bore. His captors at least had the decency to keep his belly full. To be incarcerated again was mind numbingly dull. The palace Medion and his entourage had plagued him numerous times throughout his confinement, wishing to probe his mind. An act Leos knew he had to support as a sign of good faith, yet their findings proved to be little different from those who'd tried before.

The unfolding marvel he now witnessed was truly something. He found himself more impressed by the strange opaque wall that could somehow project memories across its surface then the actual content it played.

He scanned the large object set upon the wall keenly. It was a good ten paces across he guessed, and around the same in height. Its silky-smooth surface bore the colour of a clouded sky, though it was difficult to see properly from his angle, kneeling on the floor with his hands bound behind his back.

The Cowldonian had been kept a safe distance away from the crowd of people assembled in the chamber, and was surrounded by a troop of nervous guards who looked on at him cautiously with tightly held weapons. Clearly the Steward was taking no chances after the last encounter with him.

His gaze moved back to his friend, who was now clutching a silken bag against her chest. It was one that she removed from the inside of her travelling coat. After several long moments, Lyanna finally withdrew what was inside. A little object, small and shiny, yet priceless beyond compare, and thrust it up high into the air for all to see.

The Hibernian flower sparkled brightly in the morning light, drawing a gasp of disbelief for the rooms many on lookers.

Lord Ellious walked towards the child, who gingerly handed over the famous heirloom thought lost to this world. His eyes widened as he inspected it carefully. There was no denying it. This girl truly was a child of the Darnto family. And the rightful ruler of Hibernia.

'Blessed be the day that I, Ellious Fidorrus, should see rulers of this land return.' he said softly, before handing back the jewel, 'how? How in Tumarr's name can this be possible?'

Lyanna drew a deep breath to remain calm, but it was clearly difficult.

'It's true my lord please, you must believe. Please don't torture me further by making me relive the moments leading up to the calamity.'

'Oh no my child, fear not. I will spare you that pain. You have convinced me that you are indeed the lost heir.' He turned to the crowd and raised his voice so all could hear.

'May all thee gathered here, bear witness to these events. The lost heir has returned. Hibernia has a Queen once more!' He bowed before the girl and the entire room followed suit. Lyanna felt terrible exposed and stood uncomfortably until the Steward rose again. Her checks had darkened considerable from embarrassment.

'What path now shall we take, your Highness? What is it your will seeks of Hibernia?' asked Lord Ellious.

'Slow down there a moment your grace. I don't mean to confuse. I am not here to take the throne away from you. All I ask is that you listen to my friend. You must see what this one has seen, regarding the Prince of Cowldonia's kidnapping.' Her eyes fell back to Leos, who suddenly felt extremely awkward stuck in the middle of such a moment.

The steward's eyes looked back towards the Cowldonian prisoner cautiously.

'Yes, the one who has stricken me with great torment of late. A man, branded traitor, who appears to wield the same power as a Trian. I must confess, my heart seeks to send him back to Cowldonia and be rid of his presence. Hibernia wants nothing to do with this, abomination. I doubt his claims are worth noting.'

'Please, Your Grace, move him over to the telling stone and you shall see different.'

Lord Ellious spent long moments pondering her pleas. He didn't trust the newcomer one bit. A Cowldonian should never be able to control that power. It was a blasphemous notion. Yet part of him was curious to hear his story.

'Very well. Bring him over.' the Steward ordered at last.

The guards around Leos dragged him painfully to his feet, and pushed him over to the large wall. He was greeted by a rather nervous looking Medion, standing next to the telling stone.

Lyanna stayed close to his side. She instructed him to remain calm and focus his thoughts solely on the kidnapping. The palace Medion was a little hesitant to place his hand upon the prisoner's forehead, but eventually did so. He took a calming breath before making the link to the telling stone.

Leos felt a tingling sensation run through his body as soon as their skin touched, that was not altogether unpleasant.

Once again, the large wall began to shimmer and change as man's memories were transferred onto its smooth surface, until finally it settled onto what were the same terrible thoughts playing inside of his head...

A secluded courtyard of stone, filled by a group of Empire soldiers, was cast onto the wall. They stood protecting a child with weapons drawn before a strange being, whose skin was the colour of death.

The crowd gasped loudly as more creatures, identical to the first, leapt out of the shadows and started killing the soldiers with nothing but their clawed hands.

The angle seemed strange, it was hard to tell how many there were because Leos was lying on the floor, but it must have been several.

Slowly the scene changed as the man's eyes shifted over from one side of the courtyard to the other, surveying the carnage. The child, who must certainly be Prince Alex, stood quietly before a hairless Trian, seemingly oblivious to the slaughter taking place around him. A pale monster floated beside the monk, and somehow managed to put the child to sleep with a raise of its hand. It then pointed to the robed figure, who took the child in his arms. The creature waved its hand once again and the lead monk obeyed, taking the child Prince away, while the other monks followed in tow.

As the party left, one of the monsters cast it fowl gaze upon Leos, just before leaving the courtyard, and floated over. Its blood coated arms left a trial of crimson upon the floor, as the beast drifted closer. And then...

The screen became blank, and the stone returned. The Medion removed his shaking hand from its surface, thankful to break the bond.

The room remained quiet for some time, as those inside tried to make sense of what they'd just seen. Some of them stared at the Cowldonian with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Others shook their heads with disbelief. Even the palace Medion took a few steps away from him, a cautious look swept over his blue skinned face.

Leos's heart beat hard against his chest as he gauged their reaction. He found the reassuring eyes of his friend staring back at him. Though she too looked equally disturbed. Lord Ellious also remained quiet for a while, yet became the first to break the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly before speaking.

'Well, that was quite a performance, wasn't it!' he said finally, 'it would appear that I may owe you an apology for doubting you, my lady. There does indeed seem to be more going on here than meets the eye. Trian may yet be innocent.'

Leos looked at the girl confused then back to the steward.

'What do you mean, my Lord?' asked Lyanna. The old man stood before Leos with his hands behind his back.

'It's clear to me that whoever, or more to the point whatever, those agents are, there're clearly the ones in control of the situation and not the Trians. To me, it looked as though those monks moved under the command of those, things. Which I find most disturbing.'

'So, you think the Trian's have been framed?' asked Lyanna.

'It certainly does appear that way, my dear. Based solely on what we have just seen here today. However, my real concern is why? Why would anyone want to provoke a war between two of the land's strongest nations? To what purpose would it serve?'

The room filled with a sea of mutterings in response to the Stewards questions, as people debated the issue. It was no hidden fact that both Trian and Cowldonia had plenty of enemies that might seek to topple them. No one seemed to put forward any serious suggestions.

Again, the stewards voice rang out through the air as he commanded attention.

'And another point of note I might add, why leave this one alive? To what purpose? Every other person there was killed. Yet, you sir, were left unscathed.'

Leos shrugged his shoulders in response to the question.

'I have no answer for you, my lord. Those fragments are the only memories I have of my past. I don't know why I was there, or if I was involved.'

The steward grunted at his response. Leos guessed the man didn't fully believe him.

'What of those creatures then, my Lord? What are they?' someone cried out from the crowd. A question that quickly led to more voices crying out for answers about the beasts.

Lord Ellious stilled their worried shouts with a raise of his hand. He turned back to the pair and inclined them to answer.

'Well,' he said sharply, 'what of those monsters? Tell us all that you know.'

Again, Leos replied with a shake of his head, professing to know nothing of the creatures, except how he'd encountered one briefly on the night he was... relieved of his confinement. A statement that raised more then a few eyebrows amongst the court.

It was then the turn of the girl to speak up. For she admitted it wasn't the first time she'd seen the beings and recalled the tale of when they were aboard the cargo ship.

'I think it was following us my lord. But I've seen no sign of it since the night we were attacked by the sea hydras.'

'Could the creature have provoked the attack?' asked Ellious quickly. Lyanna sighed deeply for lack of answers and shook her head.

'It's possible I guess, but I don't see why. The telling stone has shown us a glimpse of their prowess in combat. It would have been more than capable of dispatching us by itself. Why not attack directly?'

'Maybe the Cowldonian is in league with the beast's!' cried someone from the crowd, still unconvinced by the Leos's claims of innocence. He tried his best to stay calm, but was becoming tired of explaining himself. Again, the crowd persisted with their claims of guilt. Spurred on by each other, the voices grew louder and more hateful.

'Maybe he is responsible?'

'Yes, yes. He's wanted by the Empire, lest we forget!' cried another. The crowd's mood was changing all too quickly. They were frightened, and needed someone to blame.

Lord Ellious stepped forward and raise his voice to lighten the atmosphere. When they finally settled back to something like order, he turned his attention back towards Leos.

'Are you sure there is no more for us to see? Anything at all? No matter how slight or minor it seems?'

'I told you Steward! That's it!' snapped Leos, forgetting himself for a moment. He apologised. He was just as confused as the rest of them and had become so tired of living in darkness.

Lord Ellious came back to the palace Medoin for help.

'Dont you not have the skill to look deeper inside his mind and solve this riddle?

The Medion shook his head.

'My Lord, it might not be that simple. My colleagues and I have been studying this man closely these last few days, and noticed something rather peculiar.'

'What do you mean?' asked the steward.

'I sense there is indeed more here to learn from this one, but his mind has somehow been altered to conceal the past. A shadow of darkness lies over him which I cannot pierce. Its presence is barely noticeable, and took us several attempts to even detect.'

Leos's eyes grew large upon hearing this. He looked up towards the girl, and found her youthful face mirrored his own.

'Concealed? So, I haven't lost my memories after all?' he said aloud.

'No, you have not, strictly speaking. Merely deceived to think you have.' replied the Medion.

Lord Ellious's bushy eyebrows twisted as his thoughts drifted inward.

'Who would do such a thing and why? What secrets are you hiding?' he muttered to himself quietly.

'Maybe those pale creatures did it.' said Leos suddenly, 'We all saw how easily they put the boy to sleep. Could they be the ones who did this to me?' he asked, turning his gaze to the place Medion.

'I suppose it's possible. We don't know the full extent of their capabilities yet. But it would take a tremendous mind indeed to accomplish that kind of feat. A skill to rival even that of the Volanti, which is deeply worrying.'

'A powerful force indeed, and one that has not been seen for an age.' said Lord Ellious. Leos looked back to Lyanna.

'Who are the Volanti? he whispered. Lyanna looked at him calmly as she spoke.

'They are the Elder ones. The Ancients. Sacred beings said to have spawned from the shards of Russco, the mighty fire bird, upon his death. Their mountain domain sits just north of Trian, of which its peaks pierce into the very heavens of the sky. The very last link to the Gods themselves.'

Leos listened intently, but his face became a puzzled mass of twisted creases upon hearing the girl's description.

'Ancient beings huh,' he said sceptically, 'could they help me to unlock my past?'

All eyes passed between the steward and his council as they waited anxiously for a response.

'It is possible,' one of the advisors said, drumming his fingers across his pointy chin, 'yet it is doubtful their kind even exists. The race of birdmen was set to end, and long has it been since anyone has travelled to their realm.'

Leos stood up suddenly and moved closer to the Steward. The guards rushed quickly to his side but Lord Ellious commanded them to remain still.

'Then it is clear, I must seek out these ancient creatures and ask them to cure me. You said they have the power, right?'

'The old text speaks of it, yes.' said the Steward.

'Then there is no choice. If it will help us find the Prince and clear my name, then I have to go. The truth must be revealed. Maybe then I will truly find who I am. For better or worse.'

Leos looked down to the floor and saw his reflection across the polished stone. The Steward watched quietly as he did so and noticed a sudden fear had crept into the Cowldonian's eyes.

Lord Ellious remained quiet for a moment whilst pondering his response, his old eyes moved to his advisors.

'As ludicrous as it sounds sire, it maybe be the only way to reveal the truth about the Prince's kidnapping.' one said coyly. The old man grunted again, then began pacing slowly around the room, a trait he often employed when deep in thought.

'Trust I be the one to see these days,' he muttered, 'distant lands sit on the brink of war threatening to engulf us. The lost heir of Hibernia returns, on the back of a snow lion no less. And you. Man of the Empire. Who wields a power so powerful it was forbidden by the Gods to his kind! What am I to do? Silver maidens, guide my hand in this...'

After what seemed like an agonisingly long wait, Lord Ellious finally came to a decision. He turned before the assembled crowd of onlookers, who had grown quiet, then gave his response.

'Release his bonds.' he said firmly, drawing many gasps from the crowd but the Steward yelled over them,

'I decree here, in the presence of all those assembled toady. That responsibility has fallen upon us to seek the truth. This man must, for the greater good, be freed to travel up to the Mountain Realm, and seek the answers that may or may not change the outcome of a nation's fate. Hibernia will send word to the Emperor urging him to belay his march upon Trian as new evidence comes forth. This one will travel under the protection of our soldiers, so not to escape.'

Leos rubbed his sore wrists after the guards cautiously released him. He smiled broadly as Lyanna came to his side.

'My lord, I want to travel with him also, since it is I who brought him here. I wish to see his fate unfold.' she demanded suddenly. Lord Ellious frowned.

'You have just returned and now you wish to leave? It is not possible. Your people need you.'

'I am not crowd Queen yet, so they need not worry. Besides, if the Volanti do truly still exist then it might help our course. It is said my ancestors once walked with them and formed a close bond. Maybe my presence will help? Time is short and we do not know what the White Army will do upon reaching Trian's boarders, if it hasn't already arrived.'

'And how do you propose to get there in time? The mountain has forever been shrouded in a storm. Our airships cannot get near it.'

'Argoed can carry us far swifter than any means we here possess. He will take us there.' The snow lion's mighty form stood up proudly upon hearing this and moved to her side.

Lord Ellious's old face wrinkled further as he considered her statement. He didn't like the idea of setting them free, but it did seem the only logical solution.

After a long pause, the Steward finally agreed to let them proceed. Leos's fate became sealed.

Things moved quickly after that, for there was little time to waste. Preparations were made for the long road ahead. The Steward sent envoys to both the Empire and Trian, detailing events which may prove Trian's innocence and requested a gathering of parties to discuss the situation.

Before the day ended, Leos found himself once again sitting upon Argoed's back, riding into the snow-covered landscape with the city of Anthrea growing smaller with every bound of the creature's stride. A sense of hope grew within him. Finally, he would be able to unlock his past, and discover the true person he was.
D.R. Hurley

Thirty One

Baxi held his breath as he and Brutus crept through the surrounding darkness of the city's sewage outlet. The foul air assaulted their nostrils with every step taken, and was becoming stronger. Yet that seemed the least of their concerns.

Ever since they'd arrived, the Inspector couldn't shake the feeling of dread building up inside. His instincts screamed caution at him, and the dull ache in the pit of his stomach grew stronger all the time.

They'd been walking for some time now, along the small maintenance path running parallel with the drain. The shallow trough was definitely wide enough for a cart to trundle down, and he felt confident they were on the right path.

Brutus said nothing the whole time. His attention focused solely on not placing his massive feet into the murky water. Baxi could tell from the sharp snorts of breath the ogre drew, he was far from happy.

After a few hours the soft sounds of flowing water became replaced by a much more turbulent churning, and a green light could be seen glowing ahead. Baxi pressed on to the illuminated area which brought him into a large domed chamber, that could only be the water filtration unit. A series of images flashed into his mind, stirred up by what he saw. The kidnapper's memories he read last night were definitely the same as this location.

In the centre of the room was a device, half submerged in a pit of murky water. It was connected by several more tunnels above, which dumped waste from all over the capital into a central container so it could be processed.

The arched ceiling was studded with giant stones, radiating green light. They cast an eerie glow over the chamber which did nothing to ease Baxi's anxiety.

Water tumbled down into the structure, driving water wheels that powered the simple filtration system, separating waste out of the water. The sound here was fierce, to the point of deafening. Baxi didn't understand what exactly it was the machine was doing, but he did know it was another testament to the cunning of Cowl engineering that made his nation so prosperous.

He cast his mind off the device and searched the chamber's inlets for the most northern route. So far, their journey had taken them relatively straight, so it was easy to guess which one to take.

Baxi scanned the area. It was clear the villains who kidnapped the orphans must have unloaded their cargo here, since there was no way of getting a cart up to the next tunnel. The only access was via a set of narrow steps, over in the corner.

'They must have had another cart waiting up there, to take the children away.' cried Baxi, pointing out the spot.

'Come, Brutus, let's see where it leads.' he said over the roaring water. Then walked up the slippery steps toward the northern tunnel inlet, taking care not to touch the damp railings that were slick with runoff from the spraying water.

The Ogre was slow to follow, for fear of getting wet. Gingerly, he made his way up the narrow steps, groaning the whole time as the rank moisture, brought up by the machine, coated the bare skin of his arms. Baxi sensed his companion's discomfort, and felt the ogre's sour mood decline further still. It brought a smile to his face.

The tunnels above were slightly smaller, though judging from the amount of water spilling down, they must have been quite deep. Too deep in fact for a cart.

'A boat then, perhaps?' quired Baxi, once they got to the top. The kidnappers probably hauled it along with ropes, so to take the children further into the sewer.

'Poor souls. They must have been terrified. Great Mother bless them eternally.' said Baxi, kissing the OWL symbol on his ring.

Again, they went on as they did before, with the Inspector taking the lead and Brutus awkwardly shuffling behind. The light was slightly brighter in this part of the sewer, yet still painfully dull. Their silent pace continued at a steady rate, ever cautious to proceed, Baxi didn't want to rush into a potentially dangerous situation recklessly, though the stench of excrement was becoming unbearable.

After a short while, the curved wall which they followed parted to reveal a small recess, several paces deep, before it continued back into a seamless tunnel. Baxi slipped into the gap and found himself standing before a large iron door, peppered with dozens of fist sized rivets. The bulkhead had the number 201 carved into its dark surface. This was it, the entrance that Sarrso had described. They'd finally found it. But how to enter?

A large plate and ring were bolted to the side of the recess, likely used to shore up the boat for unloading. The door itself had no handle, and no exposed hinges, obviously it was secured for the other side. Was it simply a matter of knocking, or was there some other way?

Baxi ground his teeth at his former colleague's lack of enlightenment of the situation. He should have asked Sarrso how to enter, and cursed his lack of foresight. He quickly searched over the bulkhead while Brutus waited. Rubbing his hands all over the cool iron surface in a desperate attempt to locate the release mechanism. There had to be a hidden latch or pressure plate, or something to unlock the door. But there was nothing apparent.

He cursed his luck again, then stepped back to lean on the wall so he could think. His fingers were greeted with the cold touch of metal, belonging to the thick metal ring, bolted to the wall. Baxi wrapped his bony fingers around the tie off point and gripped it firmly. The ring gave way, and twisted in his grip. A sharp click, sprung from behind the wall, quickly followed by another at the bulkhead. The Inspector's heart leapt as the heavy door swung back silently by itself on well oiled hinges.

Praising Great Mother Hamiya for her assistance, Baxi crept slowly into the opening and helped Brutus get through.

Inside, the pair found themselves standing in another corridor, this one however ended in a descending flight of stairs, which trailed off out of sight. They followed it cautiously, taking care to remain quiet. The air in here was cool and free from odour, a welcome change thought Baxi, from the rancid smells of the sewer. Yet he could still feel a damp gathering of sweat forming on his bald head.

Quietly they made their way down. The path was lit with yet more stones pushed into the ceiling, this time emitting an amber glow. They descended until the stairs ended at the foot of a large room, which Baxi presumed was the hidden laboratory Sarrso had spoken of.

The room was packed full of tables of equal size, and all sorts of strange apparatus sitting on top. Every ounce of space was taken up by something. Even the walls lay completely concealed, hidden under a blanket of paper, vessels and tools. Shelves sagged noticeable under the weight of countless glass jars; their bulbous innards filled with an impossible mix of substances the Inspector was clueless to name. Everywhere he looked there were files. A vast library of research and knowledge, but regarding what was unclear.

He picked up a bundle of notes scattered across a nearby table and began to read. Most of the paper's text meant nothing to him. The tongue of engineers was unfamiliar, but the document did surmise something about a "possible success" and "further subjects would be needed to finalise the results".

He dropped the document, then picked another from the next table. His eyes scanned over it quickly, but he found nothing of worth, just a mass of lengthy equations and numbers he didn't understand.

However, there was one block of text which he did find interesting. It stated, due to the nourishing effects of the treatment, the subjects required very little monitoring, so staff presence on site could be reduced. That would explain why nobody was here. But what did it mean by subject? He discarded the document and moved on.

Baxi maintained his cautious advance, but was forced to remind Brutus to leave everything alone several times, after he clumsily knocked into a table and scattered papers across the floor.

A faint hissing sound could be heard issuing from an open bulkhead, on the wall ahead. Intrigued, the Inspector headed towards the entrance and told the ogre to stay put for the moment. He peered into the new room with bated breath, then found himself gasping in horror at the sight of its contents.

Amber light bathed the room's contents in a sickly glow. Baxi saw rows upon rows of glass vessels, stretching out from the rooms centre, each of them filled with a thick viscous liquid, the colour of bile. An entangled mass of twisted pipes and banded hose sprouted out from every canisters top, spilling into the bunded area behind. Black ribbed tubes and hose filled with yet more of the manky fluid covered every floor space in entwining unity. The pipes trailed off towards a set of squat machines, lined up against the wall which buzzed constantly and clattered from steam powered devices. Clouds of moisture spewed into the air with a gentle hiss.

Baxi stared in awe as he made his way down the metal gantry, cutting through the centre of it all. His boots clumped noisily on the mesh floor, but the sound wasn't registered. His focus was set firmly on the tiny black shape suspended inside one of the nearest vessels.

He cast his eye over the thing warily. The containers were small, about a third of his size, but plenty big enough for... His stomach turned at the thought of what they might contain. But he still found himself compelled to look.

The glass was cold and glistened with moisture. Baxi gingerly wiped a section of it clear with his hand, hoping not to disturb the thing lying within. He moved close to looked inside, and held his breath.

His prying eyes were greeted with the sight of a floating child, held captive within the murky fluid. Baxi felt the blood drain from his face as he regarded the poor creature. The lower part of its face was covered by some sort of mask, attached with a tube that disappeared into the murk. The child's hairless features were still, and its skin was deathly pale, it must have been submerged like this for some time. The sight of it caused him to shudder.

'Belthor's soul, what is this?' he cursed, horrified by what he saw.

Suddenly the child opened its eyes, and looked straight at him. His piercing gaze held fast the Inspector and tore into his soul. Its eyes were cold and devoid of colour, utterly lifeless. A stream of bubbles spewed forth from the mask, tumbling up through the clouded fluid as the child breathed out. The poor thing was alive!

Baxi heard a sickening cry tear through his mind, like scraping metal. The sound was cold and piercing, it froze him on the spot.

Save me! it wailed frantically to him, save me from despair and end my pain!

The man's heart leapt violently against his chest as the voice rocked him to his core. He froze as the thing reached out with its mind to connect with his, powerless to stop it. Baxi winced as the thing's torment bled into him freely. Such pain, such anguish. It was impossible to think one could survive this level of torture.

He shook his head desperately to try and dislodge it, and stumbled over, breaking the connection.

Scrambling away from the canister, panting rapidly, he watched helplessly as the cascade of bubbles slowly receded, and the thing within drifted back into the murky confines of the tank.

Baxi tried to calm himself and wiped the sweat from his brow. His hand reached out to stop the approaching ogre who was about to help him up.

'No, it's ok, I'm alright.' he said to Brutus, who looked curiously at him.

'We find something, Boss, huh?' he grumbled. Baxi nodded silently in response as he took a quick draft of Fogberry juice, it was all he could do in that moment.

Finally, he started to calm and looked back to the glass vessel. Its contents were still. His eyes flashed over the room. There must have been dozens of children contained here.

It was then he noticed a large bundle of papers placed neatly inside an alcove, at the vessel's base, which he quickly retrieved.

Subject's responded well to treatment.

Initial stages of dosage seem favourable.

More observation needed.

Suggest dosage increase by 0.5% over the next quarter.

Ascension: - Likely.

Baxi read through the papers with sickening horror. The kidnapped children were being turned into something else, but what was still unclear. Surly the state wouldn't fund such a thing? He looked around and noticed a separate group of containers nestled in the rooms dog-legged corner. Even from here he could see the vessels were substantially larger. Easily big enough for an adult person to fit inside. Their contents however were not filled with the same murky liquid of the others, those ones being green. He counted six in total as he headed over.

Each of them was connected by a series of familiar ribbed pipes that trailed off into yet more bulky machines sighted behind the cylindrical vessels. The water was dark, but they were defiantly empty. He began to search cautiously around this new discovery and again noticed that each of the canisters had a set of papers belonging to them. Baxi squatted low and grabbed the nearest bunch, hoping to discover what exactly they had been used for. Until a new sound grabbed his attention.

It was a sneeze. And sounded from a place just over to the right. He got to his feet, papers still in hand, and moved closer.

'Who's there?' he cried, but there was no response. He motioned for the ogre to follow then headed over. Behind the bank of canisters was another room, this time barred with bands of thick iron rods that stretched from floor to ceiling.

'Blood of our mother it can't be?' swore Baxi as he looked upon a young child sitting quietly on his own. His noble features and golden hair easily definable amidst the dimly lit cell.

'Quickly Brutus, get the door open now, hurry man!'

The ogre shuffled his bulk over to the large metal lock hanging from the cell door and wrapped his meaty fingers around it. A sharp tug was enough to pull it free, and the ogre stepped back. Baxi quickly opened the metal door and went inside, but the boy leapt back, terrified by his actions.

'No, don't take me please!' he whimpered, scuttling back into the darkened corner of his cell. The Inspector paused, then dropped slowly to his knees, soothing the child gently with words of kindness.

'My Lord Alex,' he said softly; his voice little more than a gentle whisper, 'please sire don't be afraid. My name is Baxi. Rymund Baxi. I'm here to help. Your father has sent me to find you.'

The Prince was trembling with fear but looked back in hope upon hearing this man speak of the Emperor.

'He is here?' stammered the child. Baxi's wrinkled features remained soft and calm, he shook his head slowly in response to the child's question, but reassured him he they would soon be reunited.

'Sire, you are safe now. We will take you home. But you must tell me of the villains who put you here, so they can be arrested. Was it the Trian's? Did they take you and lock you away?'

Alex shook his head nervously and looked at the ground. Baxi placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed his question further, desperate for an answer.

'Please your grace, who did this to you?' he said softly. Alex swallowed, despite his dry mouth and raised his eyes. He lent close to whisper in his ear.

'It was Marcus Zion.'

Baxi caught his breath, shocked by the words.

'Marcus Zion. The General? He was the one who did this?' he exclaimed. Alex nodded sheepishly, but the Inspector refused to believe him.

'No, it can't be. Impossible.' he said defiantly.

'It is. I swear to you it is-'

'You must be mistaken.'

'I'm not Inspector, it's true. The General sent men to take me from the city and bring me here. He told me I needed to remain hidden until the threat against my life was neutralised.'

The boy's statement puzzled Baxi further.

'My lord, what threat?'

'The one that Trian had made. Marcus told me all about it. Said my father wanted me brought here so I would be safe.'

Baxi shook his head slowly, and fixed the boy with a hard stare.

'Sire, I fear you have been deceived. Your Father believes the Trian's have kidnapped you. His army marches towards their lands as we speak. In hopes of finding you.'

'But it's not true I'm here, I've always been here. And I want to go home now. I've been so scared.'

'I know, dear child, I know. And we shall get you back, I promise. I just can't fathom why the General would want to kidnap you and start a war.'

'He promised I would be safe here until it was safe to return. But I can't bear to be he any longer. Not with them.' spluttered Alex, pointing nervously towards the distant containers.

Baxi followed the boy's line of sight, then glanced down to the wad of papers he was still clutching.

'You've seen them then? The children locked away in those awful chambers. The look on your face tells me you have.' said Alex quietly. Baxi nodded slowly.

'What are they?' he whispered. The Prince moved a little closer as he spoke.

'Marcus told me they were sick, very sick. He was trying to cure them. He said he could take away their pain and make them strong, but it would take time. Later, they would rise to lead our armies and become great heroes of our nation. The power they wield would protect us from the Trian's forever. I believed him at first. Until I heard them calling to me. And so many times after. Even now I can hear them, crying in my mind. They beg me for freedom, but I'm too scared to answer. I just want them to stop calling me. Please Inspector, take me away from this place.'

Tears came flooding down the child's face as he began to weep, leaving a trail of flesh among his grubby skin.

'Are you saying the General is turning these children into, some sort of new weapon?'

'I don't know what they are, only that they are in terrible pain.'

An image of the pale demon from the orphanage flashed into Baxi's mind making him shudder.

So, that's what they are. he thought grimly.

Finally, the horrifying truth became all too clear. The fate of all those poor orphans, stolen from their beds, ended here. Their lives to be used as fodder for this, darkest of experiments. And for what? To produce some blasphemous new form of life whose powers defied the very laws of the Gods. It sickened him to his core.

Baxi cast his eyes back towards the containers, and suppressed the urge to vomit. How could his country allow this atrocity to happen was beyond him? The General, of all people, heading this vile operation. It had to stop, of that there was no doubt.

He turned from the Prince, then spoke to his companion.

'Brutus. Listen to me very carefully now, this is extremely important. You must take the Prince out of here and back to his father at the palace immediately. Do you understand? Take him to the Emperor with all speed and guard him with your life. You must keep the Prince safe until he is returned home.'

Brutus looked between Baxi and the child whilst digesting his orders. After an awkward silence the ogre grunted deeply in acknowledgment, but his ugly face was wracked with concern.

'What bout you, Boss?' he asked gruffly.

'Don't worry about me, I'm going to stay and have another look around. I want to find more proof General Zion is linked to this. Your only concern is that of the Prince, ok? Get him to his father as fast as you can.'

Brutus scratched the skin under is open leather vest and looked around warily.

'Me no like leaving you in this place, Boss. Feels like, death here. It not safe.' Baxi was touched by the ogre's concern for him, and placed his hand on his colleague's barrel chest.

'Agreed. Something foul is at work here, which is why I must keep looking. Don't worry, I'll catch up with you soon enough, and converge with the Emperor. This whole area must be shut down. Who knows, maybe we can still do something to help those poor souls. Now go, be swift in your task. And don't stop for anything.'

The ogre paused for a moment whilst thinking, then slowly nodded. He shifted his immense bulk to face Prince Alex and stretched out his enormous hand carefully.

'Come, Boss-child. Brutus show you way home now.'

The Prince smiled nervously at him, clearly intimidated by the creature, but obeyed.

Brutus led the child back the way they came and disappeared up the stairs, leaving the Inspector alone in the dimly lit room. Baxi would rather have gone with the pair but felt compelled to stay a while longer. The operation here was too big to ignore and he still wanted to find some kind of evidence that linked it to the General. He was confident the ogre wouldn't fail him, and confided in that knowledge.

*****

Baxi stayed for some time after, continuing his search around the room. He sifted through documents and papers in hopes of finding some link towards the General, but he found nothing. He still couldn't believe it. The country's most senior soldier, masterminding such depravity. His mind reeled at the thought of it, but knew better than to let it distract him.

The scattered papers littering the lab were all the same, none of them had any reference or signature from the General. It seemed he was careful not to leave any trace. Baxi chose to pocket the documents anyway and tucked them neatly into his overcoat. At least he would have something to bring back and get the ball rolling. He would make sure this entire place was shut down and everything seized.

He looked back towards the banks of cylinders and felt a swell of pity rise up inside. He didn't know what would happen to the children or even if any of them could be saved. Better to end their lives quickly he thought then let them live in torment a moment longer.

He began making his way back towards the bulkhead, it was time to leave. General Zion was probably in Trian by now and he dreaded to think how many lives were lost to that madman's warmongering. The Emperor alone had the power to stop him, and must be informed. Time was of the essence.

Following the gantry back to the exit, Baxi walked briskly between the rows of trapped children, and kept his eyes low, unable to look at the cylinders. But the Inspector stopped short of the exit as a shrieking wail sliced through the air and froze him to the spot.

Baxi turned immediately to see what had made the sound, but found nothing.

'Is someone there?' he called. But his question was met only with silence. His heart beat harder while he waited in the gloom.

Then suddenly, one of the vessels closest to him began to bubble. He watched the steady stream of cascading air rise through the dark fluid cautiously. Another canister began to stir, and then another, and another. Soon the fluid in all the glass tanks started moving. The sound of rushing air surrounded Baxi as all the containers boiled violently for no apparent reason.

A sea of voices exploded within his head crying out his name. The Inspector wailed as the hissing words stung his mind, and pressed his palms tightly to his skull to shut them out. His eyes widened in fear when he saw dozens of writhing bodies, forcing themselves against the confines of the glass vats, desperate to get out. The wrinkled skin of the children's palms pressed onto the containers smooth surface, trying to break free. Their lifeless eyes looked towards him desperately, and the voices grew ever louder.

Baaaaxxxxxiiiiii.... They hissed in unison.

The man's heart hammered into his chest as panic gripped him. Before he knew it, Baxi was sprinting away, dashing across the metal gantry. He bolted through the iron door and slammed it home, locking it tight in a matter of seconds.

Panting hard, the Inspector fumbled for the bottle of Fogberry juice and in his haste, dropped it onto the floor. Cursing out loud, Baxi watched helplessly as the dark liquid seeped into the cracks of the stone floor and filtered away; that was his only bottle.

Moments later, the heavy door thudded deeply as something on the other side smashed into it. He jumped back and watched nervously whilst stepping away from it. Baxi gasped in fear as another voice screeched his name again. He turned instantly to meet it, but was met with nothing. He continued to back away and tried to calm his shaken nerves. He shortly felt the hard stone of the rooms wall pressing into his back.

Baxi's eyes darted left and right, but there was nothing to see amongst the glass jars scattered about. The room was empty, and for a moment silence returned. He let out a deep breath as the pain in his head receded, then reached out with his mind to search the room, but there was no other presence to be found.

Quietly, the Inspector unhooked the slender baton dangling from his belt and gripped it tightly. The polar baton was reassuring to hold, yet he hoped it was unneeded. He moved between a row of tables littered with papers and made for the room's exit. He had to get out of this place quickly. Baxi managed only a few steps before it happened again.

A fell shriek pierced out of the gloom, louder than before and almost directly behind him. He turned instantly, but still he found nothing.

More voices came, crying out his name. They came from all directions, but he could not make out the words, the language was unknown to him.

'Great Mother, protect me!' he cried as the beating sound of his heart thundered in his ears. He stretched out his mind once more, but this time was instantly repelled. The suddenness of it caused him to stumble into a nearby table, sending a flurry of papers into the air.

Drops of crimson fluid fell onto the scattered documents as he bent over its surface. Baxi whipped his nose. The voices called out to him again, this time inside his mind.

'Oh Great Mother, guide your servant. Protect me with your will. I am your guardian of hope and shield against the surrounding darkness...'

Baxi drew strength from the litany of proofing as he spoke it defiantly. A sacred rite which steeled his nerve and sent a surge of courage coursing through his veins. The voices swirled around him, then receded into one. The language now plain to understand,

You dare speak of her, son of Tumarr, like she is your saviour. The Gods heed not the call of those that have fallen. Your path is beyond saving!

Baxi riled from hearing the words, but ground his teeth angrily in response. In the next breath, the room came alive as a strong wind gusted up from nowhere, lifting documents everywhere. The swirling mass of papers swept wildly across the room, spinning faster with every moment. Baxi could just make out the stairway which led back to the sewer, and staggered into the storm.

Fighting hard against its pull, he looked up to see something perched ahead on one of the tables furthest away and mistook it for some kind of creature. The squatting form leapt down to the ground and rose to meet him. The thing that stood before him was the same monster he'd seen the other night at the orphanage.

'I know what you are, child,' shouted Baxi to the creature, 'I know what's been done to you, and the others like you.'

You know nothing of us, foolish Hwethgar! Baxi held his ground.

'Yes, I do. I've seen the chambers and know of the General's plan. Please, let me help you. Together we can stop him, and set you free.'

You are a fool to think the puppet controls us. The Gods alone command our will. Your General, has nothing to do with it. His will is bent to ours. The grief he feels within swells by our desire. We have consumed him with hate.

The creature leapt forward with amazing speed. It landed on a table close to the Inspector without a sound. Its action spooked Baxi, who smashed his baton into a wall then moved backwards. The weapon blazed into life as a roaring lilac blaze covered its shinny surface.

The pale being cocked it hairless head, then casually jumped to the ground. It continued its advance towards Baxi, moving through the paper storm as if it wasn't there. Its clawed feet scraped lightly across the stone floor as it took another step closer. It looked dangerous; its lean body was a mass of tight muscular cords. Baxi could see it was ready to strike.

He stepped back cautiously, eager to keep as much distance between him and the monster as he could, and tried to skirt around to the exit. But the driving wind made it difficult to advance.

'You think Zion is innocent, after what he's done to you?

He caused much pain. But his actions gave speed to the Gods. For that he is pardoned. They heard our call and answered. It was they who spoke to us through our torment. Guided us through our pain. They taught us their tongue. They spoke to us in our hour of need, and paved the way for their will.

Baxi shook his head.

'You're wrong. I have felt your pain. The years of torture must have warped your fragile minds. Corrupted it. How else could you believe that deluded story was true. The Gods didn't speak to you! You created them yourself, to survive. A light to cling onto through the darkness.'

The creature's tentacle maw twitched and wriggled as its voice hissed inside his mind.

You think your cause is just, yet you know nothing of destiny. Your lives are spent, your race is forfeit. As the world bleeds, the Gods decree they must end its torture. The gift they left has been abused, and as such, its lands must be cleansed.

'You're insane, I pity you!'

It is you who are pitied, in your ignorance. Nothing can stop the God's vengeance. War will erupt across the globe freeing the earth of your filth, starting in the east. From there it will spread to other countries, restoring the balance for a new breed of children to emerge. From the ashes of your grave, the true sons and daughters of Tumarr will rise to take your place, just as the gods intended.

'Can you not see your mind is corroded? You speak of a madness that will never come to pass!' roared Baxi defiantly.

No. it is you who is rotten. Even now the puppet General brings forth the ruin that will see your reign end. Our brothers and sisters will be the first of a new breed to be guided by the Father. By his hand we will flourish.

Baxi looked through the locked bulkhead, and the dozens of containers within, then back to the creature. Its presence sickened him. Would the others succumb to madness also? He felt anger towards its creation, knowing that he had to destroy it and the rest of its kind before their insanity could spread.

The creature paused, and spoke again in his mind.

You cannot stop this. We, the ascended, shall soon rise. The Gods plan will come forth!

'Enough! This folly ends now, death has come!' he roared before leaping into the mass of swirling papers.

Yes, for you it has...

Baxi ignored the creatures hollowed words and swung his baton towards its hairless head. The being stepped easily to the side and avoided the blow, causing Baxi to overreach. He stumbled forward awkwardly and was not only left off guard, but exposed.

A searing pain smashed into his back as the creature fired a small blast of energy at him, which sent the man sprawling. The cold stone floor rose up to meet him and snatched the air from his lungs. Baxi rolled in time to see the pale devil fall onto him. Its clawed hands buried deep into his stomach, drawing a sickening wail from the Inspector's mouth.

Baxi screamed as the thing leaned over him, its black eyes looked deep into his, and pierced his soul. His hand lashed out in response and struck the beast in the head, knocking it off him. A strong whiff of burnt flesh assaulted his nostrils as the lilac flames surrounding the baton bite deep. The creature screeched as it fell, but quickly recovered. It raised a blood-stained claw to touch the purple scar on its forehead.

Baxi grimaced as pain washed through him. He felt warm liquid seep onto his legs and realised it was blood. He coughed and spluttered as the creature came back, trying to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The flaming baton slipped from his weakening grip, and clattered to the ground.

Inspector Baxi watched helplessly as the last moments of his life were filled with the sound of rushing wind and blinding light, as the creature released a final crackling ball of energy at him, removing him from this world.
D.R. Hurley

Thirty Two

Here it was, the moment she had craved. Today was the day that Nikita took her life back and left the old one firmly behind.

She looked down to the large bag of coins cradled safely inside her clawed hand. The accumulation of the last week's work at those wretched plantations had paid off handsomely. Unfortunate though it was she'd had to spend her original money on food and lodgings whilst traveling along the lonely road from Nyatti. With this money, she could buy passage aboard one of the cargo haulers heading towards the Eastern Continent, and a fresh start.

The long hours spent trudging through the waterlogged fields, nestled amongst the foothills of the belt were not spent in vain. Her joints still ached from spending the nights bent over harvesting Nevinroot, and her paws were painfully sore. Yet all that torment was worth it. She headed up the mountain path leading towards the dock, eager to get moving.

The settlement of Klayco, where she presently resided, housed one of the largest airship docks outside of the capital, and was suitably located on the eastern most side of the Namoleon belt. A location which long exploited direct links to the outer continents, that some races struggled to maintain.

Nikita hated her bleak surroundings. To her, it seemed like she rested upon the very edge of the world. She paused to look back upon the collection of scattered buildings, dotted around the undulating rocky landscape. There was little vegetation here, except the occasional mountain shrubs and dryweed bushes. A stark contrast indeed from the dense landscape of her woodland home. Former home, she had to remind herself. The doe was loathed to admit how much she missed that place already, and cast it from her mind.

She returned to the path once more, and followed it up to the natural plateau where the dock was sighted. Beyond which, the open cliff-face plunged hundreds of paces into the roaring seas, which crashed relentlessly upon the sharp rocks.

A strong breeze greeted her when she finally arrived at the dock. The gusting winds brought down from the western currents, rustled her cloak and fur no end, but her attention was fixed elsewhere.

Nikita's heart leaped with joy to see the giant shadow of an Emperor class airship dominating the immediate surroundings. One amongst many vessels stationed here, though by far the largest. The colossal ship was making ready to depart as great gouts of steaming air could be seen escaping out of pressure valves around its huge, upward firing rotors.

Workers hauled cargo into the hold via a number of service ramps situated around the hull, and crews could be seen scurrying around the open deck. checking securing ropes and completing other menial tasks. It was a ship most commonly used for industrial haulage, due to its tremendous loading capacity and extended flight time, but did cater for a fairly large number of passengers, though the cabins were far from comfortable.

The young doe let out a squeal of excitement upon seeing the great airship and jumped merrily up and down. The dream of a new life, which she had envisaged for so long, was finally unfolding. She quickly ran over, ignoring the disapproving looks of dock workers, and headed for the boarding terminal.

Dozens of crates and containers lay everywhere she looked, workers towed wooden carts fully laden with barrels and boxes ready for loading on the various airships dotted arcos the port.

The bag of items, tied firmly to her halberd, swung gently in the breeze as she went over, its meagre contents were all that she had to her name. Clothes and a small supply of stolen Nevinroot would keep her going for a few more days. The metal shaft weighed heavily on her shoulder, but she was too enthralled to care.

As she got closer, she noticed a concerning amount of Trian's gathered around the terminal she was heading for. The doe hoped she would still be able to buy a ticket and continued to advance. But as she drew closer her thoughts turned to despair as she realised the bustling mass of citizens were not just impatient to get on, they were being held back, and close to rioting.

There were cries of anger and pleas from the group demanding passage, which she couldn't understand why they weren't allowed through. Nikita pushed through the crowd of angry protesters as best she could, and managed to get to the front. The gates were barred tight and several nervous looking guards stood behind clutching their weapons tightly.

'What is this?' she cried desperately to the nearest one, 'why can't we enter? I have good money here, and seek passage to the Eastern Continent!'

The guard came closer and shouted through the gates.

'Access is closed, forthwith. As of this morning, word has reached us indicating the High Council has declared a national state of emergency. All outward-bound vessels are to be seized for military assignment until further notice.'

The does felt her heart sink; she couldn't believe this was happening. Her emotions quickly turned to anger as she ground her front teeth for being denied this one opportunity to escape.

'What are you talking about, what emergency?' she yelled. The guard was shocked at her answer.

'Slarr's breath child, haven't you heard? Trian has been invaded. Soldiers of the Empire pour into our lands from the west. War is upon us. All citizens able to bear arms must report to the nearest garrison for immediate deployment. Only those not able to fight will be relocated to an area of safety.'

Nikita's whiskers dropped as she heard the news, along with her tail.

'This cannot be? it must be a dream!' she said disbelievingly.

'How could you not know, where have you been?' Nikita rested the pommel of her blade on the ground whilst fumbling for an answer.

'I've been working in the night this last week, picking Nevinroot, and slept through the day. The long hours have kept me away from the world.' The guard grunted.

'Well, I suppose that would explain it. I too have spent time working in those vast fields, it's easy to lose track. But that doesn't mean you can come in here like some kind of High Councillor and make demands. The gates are closed, and for good reason. Only those able to contribute to the war effort can enter.' said the guard.

The doe felt her legs weaken as the news set in. The numerous cries and angered shouts from the crowd became lost to her large ears as her mind withdrew. How can this be true? The Empire at war with Trian. It was a nightmare.

Despite all the mounting confusion she found her thoughts returning to the wellbeing of her uncle and could not fathom why. After all, she wanted to run away from the tyrant, didn't she? And this was her chance. Why now should she be concerned for his safety? She was trying to leave him. It's what she'd always wanted.

It was then the guard noticed the long pole she grasped, and the unmistakable shape of a halberd's blade hidden within its sheath.

'You bare the weapon of the Long Furs. What in Slarr's name are you doing here? You must report back at once, who is your charge?' he said angrily. The doe stuttered her response, suddenly embarrassed.

'I've yet to be assigned, which is why I was working.' she lied.

'Well you can bet they'll find you one now, especially with your skills. Get in here and find the next charter back to your office, the situation is dire. What settlement are you from?'

'Nyatti.' she said reluctantly. The Guard's stern features softened upon hearing her response and she noticed a sudden pity in his eyes.

'You are a good ways from home young one. But I'm afraid there would be little point in going back. Nyatti has fallen, like so many others. Latest reports say the Empire's White Army has made its way northeast. Its likely Altrad is its target.'

Nikita's heart faltered at the news her home had been destroyed, even though she was trying to leave it. A great feeling of guilt swelled up inside, at the thought of her desertion.

'Where is my Uncle... I mean where is Master Rykun? I have to go to him at once.' she said suddenly.

'He's in Altrad of course, co-ordinating the defence along with the other High Council members.'

'I need to get back there, now. I must speak with him.'

'That airship over there, The Hand of Slarr, is scheduled for departure soon. It's carrying supplies back to the capital, as well as those able to fight. If you hurry you should make it. Its dock lies farthest to the north. Here, you better come through.'

The guard made room for Nikita to pass through the blockade and pointed her in the direction of the ship, not that he needed. Amongst the dozens of different classed vessels moored up, the Emperor class vessel was only one whose motors stirred idly as preparations were made to lift. Nikita hurried towards the loading area and saw the dock workers had already started to remove the vessel's hitching. She shouted wildly at them to wait, arriving just as crews began removing the boarding platforms.

'Cutting it a little close, aren't you?' they said as she clambered aboard, just in time.

No sooner was the doe on deck, the last rope came free and the airship began to rise, drifting up into the air under the sounds of chugging motors. The ground below quickly shrivelled away as the Hand of Slarr gained momentum, and soon they were up high in the sky travelling north towards the heart of Trian.

The young doe's heart was a turmoil of emotions. she felt awful for deserting her post, and prayed to the All Father her uncle would forgive her. But also cursed the timing of this sudden invasion. Maybe it was Slarrs's way of punishing her for being so selfish and wanting to leave?

She made her way deeper into the ship, questioning the crew about how long the voyage would be. Travel by Airship was by far the quickest method of transport across the mountainous landscape, but Emperor vessels were not known for their speed. It would still take several days for them to reach the capital.

The hours that followed passed slowly aboard the airship, since there was little to do except observe the rumours spouted frequently by others aboard. The most common being why they were at war. She was wary to believe all the gossip, but after talking to various individuals aboard the airship she concluded the general thesis was the same. Cowldonia wanted revenge for the kidnapping of the Emperor's son, and believed the culprits were hiding in Trian. Surely that was nothing more than here-say?

Some even said a group of Timmetan monks had been executed in the Cowldonian capital. Why in Slarr's name would the Empire think that Trian would risk a war? it was complete madness.

In the end it mattered not, she would soon find out for herself once they reached Altrad. Her uncle will know the truth, she just hoped they would reach the capital in good time. She spent most of the journey hiding. Thinking it best to keep to herself, and avoided where possible the groups of gathered soldiers, so not have to worry about explaining herself.

Safe in the confines of a cramped cabin, Nikita grieved silently at the loss of her home, and feared more and more for her uncle's safety. Hopefully she would arrive in time to make amends with him, before it was too late.

D.R. Hurley

Thirty Three

Finally, the Hwethgar have discovered our intent. It matters not. Their interference is of no consequence. The wheels of fate grind ever on regardless. All that matters now is the Father. We must prepare for his coming.

Night was set to break. The final embers of light receded before the growing power of darkness, and the warm glow of a hundred burning torches grew brighter as Belthor faded away.

General Zion's steely gaze looked through a broken window in his command structure, silently watching the mighty sun God's passing. He grunted softly to himself as the great ball of fire sunk below the mountainous skyline which surrounded this filthy landscape and spoke a silent prayer in his head for the deity's safe return.

His one eye moved back to the mass of shuffling figures steadily entering the disused building his men had commandeered earlier and gave little response to their respectful nods. His haggard face was set firm like a mask of stone, oblivious it seemed to the senseless death which surrounded him. A fact which held true. For the General's mind had seen much of war and was long since tempered by the sight of its many horrors. This campaign was no different.

He drew strength from the righteousness of their cause, and from the dulcet tones of delicate voices, swirling in his mind.

_For every death made in his name, a drop of blood be cleansed_.

A tight smile split the edges of his mouth, as Marcus embraced the words spoken in his head. They were right of course. They had always been right. This war will see him rise, in the eyes of the Gods...

Their eternal praise will see him rise through the gates of the afterlife, where his name will be called, and spoken with love forever more. And then finally, as he takes his place among the stars, he will look into his son's eyes, and know that all is forgiven...

His mind crashed out of the vision and came back into the room. Marcus found himself looking down upon a large map rolled out onto a table in front of him and cleared his throat. The blackouts were getting stronger, he must keep them in check. Thankfully nobody had noticed, and he quickly regained his composure.

He looked to the map detailing Trian's landscape; its corners pinned by a daggers blade thrust deep into the table and remembered the briefing he was about to give.

He remained still as the remainder of his company arrived. A heavy cloak of black feathers framed his square shoulders, keeping the brunt of the nights chill away from him. Marcus couldn't remember donning the garment.

Outside the rain fell gently to the ground, a light drizzle which some proclaimed to be the tears of sadness from the Great Mother herself. A bad omen, for those who questioned the Empire's current course of action. Marcus dismissed such tales as folly.

His eye moved slowly across the gloomy structure as the last few officers arrived. It was a drafty place, recently abandoned by its former owners, who fled desperately to avoid the unstoppable rush of his forces. Far from fitting for a dignitary such as he to reside in, but this was war, and luxuries such as comfort were a scarce commodity. This place would have to do until such time as it was to move on.

The bulk of his army sought refuge from the elements amongst the tattered remains of other buildings which made up this nameless settlement, whilst the remainder stood watch. It was a place of no importance, that served little more than a stepping-stone towards a greater target. The stench of battle still clung bitterly in the air, and everywhere one looked could see the terrible scars of battle left from the previous day's engagement.

Finally, the last officers arrived, bearing words of forgiveness at the delay. The General said nothing to the men, but everyone gathered saw his irritation as the dull red glow emitting from his fake eye took on a deeper shade, further exaggerating his already sinister appearance.

'Gentleman,' he said sternly, 'I would first like to thank you, on behalf of the Emperor, for the great service you have bestowed upon our nation. The Trian race have been caught unawares, and so far, our forces have met little resistance. But the speed of our advance will begin to falter as the _Skritt's_ defense is fully mustered.'

He poked his gloved finger onto the map, highlighting the direction his army had traveled.

'Our attack began here, in the south west corner of Trian. The one place we could enter. Thanks to the swiftness of our attack, and the element of surprise, Hythrall fell in a matter of hours. A most glorious victory indeed. From there, we travelled north east towards the heart of this godforsaken land, in the direction of Altrad, The Trian capital. A place which, I'm sure your all aware, is of great tactical importance to our campaign.

Once taken, it will serve as a base of operations for the coming days. Our forces can spread out to cover the land, neutralizing all that remains of the Trian defense. Supplies will be brought up and directed as needed, and the overall command of the enemy will be shattered. Everything depends on taking the settlement quickly. When the High Council falls, the whole country will be leaderless and chaos will ensue. Do I make myself clear?' he growled. A few muttered words of agreement filled the air, though one voice had the nerve to speak out.

'What do you expect to find there General? There is little knowledge of the Trian capital or its defenses. How can you be sure of our success?' The voice asked.

Marcus knew instantly to whom it belonged. It was one that had become all too familiar of late. A constant thorn in his side.

Captain Offidious was not afraid to air the concerns that he and many others shared, with regards to their mission.

'It's true we do not yet know the full extent of our enemy's strength, Captain. But rest assured, measures are being put in place to rectify this.'

'Such as?' queried Offidius, scratching at the silver bristles of his mutton chops. The movement caused a gentle hiss of steam to vent from his metal arm.

Marcus gave the man a crooked smile, then raised his hand, beckoning unseen men to come forth.

'Bring the prisoners.' he yelled.

The sound of clanking metal came from an unseen doorway, followed by a huddled group of Trian prisoners, pushed out by Cowldonian soldiers. Amongst them was one dressed in the tattered remains of a once fine robe, now matted with grime and dirt. he cradled the bloodied stumped of his severed hand tightly.

Ambassador Callus stood wearily before the group. The prisoners were all week from lack of nourishment, and their bodies battered from abuse at the hands of their captors.

General Zion's smile broadened at the sight of them.

'These _Skritts,_ have once held positions of power in some form, which we have been able to utilize and reveal a weakness. The main road into Altrad is not well defended, save for a few minor garrisons, but the capital itself is surrounded by an impenetrable wall of thick stone, making a direct assault on its main gates the most viable option.'

'Wouldn't the Trian's be expecting that General? After all we used the same trick in Hythrall. A frontal assault would be much too obvious, or do you plan to unleash your pets again?' Marcus smiled,

'No, Captain, I'm afraid not. Their task lies beyond the capital, for now, and need not concern you.'

'You still haven't told us who they are General, or _what_. I think it's fair to say I speak for all of us here, we wish to know more about these creatures of yours.' said Offidius to a mutter of agreement from his fellow officers. They began asking questions about the mysterious beings.

'Yes, tell us more about them,' yelled Captain Parmen, piping up for the first time, 'I want to know what manner of creature they are?'

'Can we trust them?' asked a grizzled veteran, with flecks of fresh blood still on his scared face. Marcus smiled coyly at their curiosity.

'Why don't you ask them yourself?' he said coolly.

The officers went quiet and looked around, yet there was nothing to see. Then something detached itself from the shadowy recess of the rooms corner and stepped forth. The figure's sudden appearance caused some of the group to move back. Such stealth, had it always been there? How come nobody saw it until now?

It walked silently towards the General and stood next to him. The flickering glow of warm torch light spilled over the creature's pale body, illuminating its lean muscular frame. For reasons unknown, it carried a faint bruise across its forehead. Marcus was unsure why the exact wound had appeared on them all, but ultimately didn't care.

He turned his gaze back to his men. The officers eyed the beast warily, much to the amusement of the General, who plainly reveled in their discomfort.

'What is it?' exclaimed Offidius.

'This being represents the next step in our nation's evolution, the product of years of research and experimentation to create the ultimate warrior.'

'How many are there?' asked a lieutenant.

'For now, their number remains few. But steps are in place for this to increase, now that they have been proven in battle. You've all witnessed the destructive power they wield. Imagine what a whole army could achieve. The Empire would become the greatest power on the planet!' the General said with a clenched fist.

'What name do you call them?' asked someone in the group.

'They are the Ascended.' replied Marcus proudly. Most of the officers looked warily at the creature, uneasy to be in its presence, yet one amongst them moved closer.

'It's beautiful.' whispered Captain Parmen, seemingly mesmerized by the wraith-like being. He approached it slowly with a strange glint in his eye. The young Captain's hand reached out to touch its pallid skin but stopped short when his mind became flooded by a sea of visions depicting pain and suffering.

Parmen fell to his knees, gripping his head tightly. A sudden nauseous feeling swept over him, and his stomach began to heave, emptying his insides onto the dirt floor. The youth scampered back to his comrades, who help him to his feet. The creature turned its large head towards him, fixing the officer with its black eyes. Parmen shuddered at the sight of it and turned away.

Marcus grunted amusedly at the display and tried to resume his briefing but stopped as a weary voice called out.

'Abomination, monster!' hissed Ambassador Callus from behind. His outburst drew all eyes onto him,

'I see the atrocity you have spawned. That creature is an insult to your Gods. Its creation goes against everything they stood for! Slarr has foretold of the time when the sons of Tumarr would deify their makers and bring ruin to the world. Your arrogance will be your downfall, and the death of us all.'

The Ambassador met the creature's eyes with unflinching hatred, who in turn stared back silently. A gentle rummage amongst its tentacle maw was the only emotion it betrayed.

Suddenly, the Ambassador's body lifted into the air and he began to splutter as somehow the breath from his lungs was choked out of him. Callus writhed desperately but was unable to move. His body was pinned tightly by an invisible force that held him rigid, several feet off the ground. The world began to darken, and his eyes drew heavy. Callus felt his life force slip away as the creature killed him, yet death was not to be.

General Zion ordered the creature release him, which it did instantly. The old Trian's body fell hard to the ground and he coughed uncontrollably whilst gasping for air, his long face twisted in hatred as he looked at the beast. The creature's gaze moved away from the Trian and turned back towards the group of officers, who seemed ever more fearful of it.

'As I said, my children are loyal to me and to the Empire. Now, if there is no more delay we shall get back to the matter at hand,' The General said calmly,

'As Captain Offidius so rightly pointed out, a frontal assault on Altrad is not feasible, which is why I have arranged, in secret, for a substantial detachment of aviation vessels to assemble out of sight, north of the Namolean Belt. Our ground forces will act only as a diversion, placing themselves before the settlement, and beyond the reach of any potential defenses.'

The General drew his sword and used its tip to mark out the plan as he spoke, indicating how his troops would maneuver.

'The fleet will be mobilized before our arrival. They will pass over the Belt and fly straight for Altrad. If all goes to plan, they should appear shortly after nightfall tomorrow. Then the attack will commence.' A quiet mutter began sounding from the group after he finished.

'A Secret fleet, enough for a whole detachment? Tell us General what other surprises you have in store for us?' said Offidius again, much to the annoyance of the General, who was getting rather tired of being questioned.

'Such are the burdens a leader must carry. To keep one's cards held close to his chest, until such a time is required to reveal them. Now, a hard push through the night will see us arrive before daybreak, a raven has already been dispatched. The fleet will move in from the north and begin the bombardment. Troops from the air will land inside the capital then move to secure the main gate, allowing our ground forces to move in unmolested and secure the settlement. You all have your orders gentlemen, each of you know their task in this. I expect you all to make the appropriate preparations. Now, if there are no more questions, make ready to leave. We march for Altrad!'
D.R. Hurley

Thirty Four

A thunderous crash ripped through the darkness of night, followed by an almighty creak of twisting wood as the Hand of Slarr banked suddenly to avoid another explosion.

Nikita tumbled out of her bunk and onto the hard surface of the ships deck, brutally jolted from a restless slumber. A cry of pain escaped her mouth upon landing, but she managed to scramble back to her feet just before another explosion rocked the ship again. The world around shuddered violently, and brought fear into her heart.

Her large ears pricked at the distinct sound of a klaxon wailing, a signal to all those aboard of immediate danger. Nikita quickly reached for her blade then left the cabin, stumbling into the narrow corridor outside. She made her way topside to find out what was happening.

The path was difficult, due to the constant swaying of the vessel. She clung tightly to a handrail of thick rope fastened to the wall, but was still thrown against the vessel's sides. What in Slarr's name had happened?

The journey so far had run smoothly, except for the rather lengthy delay yesterday when the ship had to refuel, they had made good time. Now she regretted her decision to rest before their arrival in the capital, but pushed such needless thoughts to the back of her mind.

A chill wind rustled her fur as it howled furiously down the corridor, much to her surprise. She gripped the rope handrail tighter and continued on. It wasn't long before she found the source.

A gaping hole was torn out of the vessel. It must have been at least ten paces across, for a whole cabin had been removed from the hull, leaving nothing but the blackened sky in its place. The wind blew hardest of all now, but she moved on regardless, peering out into the void of night as she drew level with the hole.

Below her was Altrad, the capital of Trian. The distinct mass of clustered buildings made it obvious to distinguish, even amongst darkness. But the gloom was peppered with orange light and Nikita found herself gawking in horror as many of its buildings burned brightly in the dark.

She tried to move closer to the hole, and look further out, but a sudden a blur of wood shot up from below and startled her, causing the doe to fall again. It was another airship, much smaller than the one she rode on. It buzzed past at a great pace followed by several others. A feeling of dread swelled up from the pit of her stomach as she realised, they were too late. The Empire was here.

She pulled herself back to her feet, then continued the path up towards the main deck with a renewed purpose, finding a staircase at the end of the corridor. She climbed up to the growing sounds of battle ringing above.

The doe stepped out onto the deck, and was greeted by a scene of total chaos. Everywhere she looked Trian soldiers fought desperately with Cowdonian invaders in a sea of carnage.

Troops dressed in grey leapt bravely across the void of air, landing onto the gigantic vessel's deck, ready to fight. Their transport ships flew dangerously close to ensure the men had a chance of surviving; the pilots must have been crazy!

At first the soldiers were few in number, but more were coming in. The defending ship's crew sent blasts of green energy screaming into the hulls of approaching ships, bringing some of them down. But more arrived in their place. Several more drew close enough for the crews to board.

A group of soldiers leapt bravely across the open air and made it to the deck where the fighting began. More Empire soldiers arrived, and the clash of steel against steel grew louder with every second.

Nikita plunged straight into the nearest group of invaders as the attack intensified. Her deadly blade came down in a large ach, that sliced through her enemies before they had a chance to react.

Quickly, she made her way towards the enemy vessel, still hovering close by. It was small, but the hull was well protected from attack, like most used for war, which left its propulsion system woefully vulnerable. The doe sent a ball of fizzing energy into the large sack of air, fastened above the transport ship, which punctured its surface. It wouldn't destroy the vessel, but the loss of buoyancy would be more then its upward rotors could manage, and slowly it sank back down into the darkness below. A tiny victory amidst a scene of never-ending violence.

Nikita calmed her breathing, taking a moment to survey her surroundings. The sky was littered with dozens of floating vessels, the like of which she'd never seen before. The largest mass of warships ever assembled dominated the sky, whose wooden hulls wreathed in the orange glow of fire as the capital burned beneath them. The unmistakable colours of green and brown hung frequently amongst their number. It was a terrifying sight to behold, but also magnificent.

Smaller ships went tearing through the night whilst heavier class vessels drifted slowly behind. Their task was to simply rain death from above as soldiers carrying heavy crossbows spat lengthy bolts into the streets below. Others bore catapults of great size bolted to the deck. Troops sweated hard to load purple rocks into the launchers, striking them hard before firing to ignite. The burning shards left a streak of lilac in the sky as gunners launched them. One exploded close to the Hand of Slarr, but failed to cause any damage.

Nikita snarled defiantly in the face of her adversary and sent another blast of energy hurtling back in response, but the attack went wide of its target, and fizzled out into nothing.

The few ships the Trian's had launched were severely outnumbered, and caught completely unawares. Most were destroyed before take-off, and those that made it to the sky were quickly brought down.

Her keen eyes then peered over the railings, to witness the devastation below. The sight of what she saw made her want to weep. Her tear-filled eyes watched in horror at the true vastness of the attack as a great sea of touches was formed up in the west, which could only belong to the dreaded White Army.

Grey uniformed soldiers waited patiently in organised ranks as the air assault continued. A flurry of flaming boulders sent forth from their catapults smashed repeatedly into the capital's walls with relentless fury, taking chunks of stone out of the Trian's defences, though their aim seemed random. It was more like a distraction then a concentrated attack.

Nikita brought her mind back to the task at hand. The Hand of Slarr was badly damaged, but still fighting. It headed deeper into the capital with all the speed it could muster, in a bid to reach the dock located at the southern holding, a league or so away.

Renewed were the calls to fight as Prefects tried to organise the remaining soldiers as the ship finally broke free from the worst of the attackers.

Nikita looked back to the west as their vessel adjusted its ponderous course, just in time to see a great tower of fire rip through the air, right where the western gate was. The sight of its destruction drew a gasp of fear from those around her. They were too far to see exactly, but it looked like the Empire had blown the capital's last defence apart and were likely flooding in.

Quickly, she set off towards the ships bow, deciding the best course of action would be to make for the pilot house and speak with acting commander. She had to get answers on what they were doing.

The open deck was littered with countless bodies, some still had life and wailed painfully from injury, but most were dead. The blood of both to Trian and Cowldonian mingled freely into a sickly mess across the wooden deck. It wasn't long before she reached her goal.

The protruding structure was badly damaged, a large chunk of it had been blown away, exposing its crew to the elements. Nikita scaled the small flight of steps leading up to the bridge with a single bound, and made her way in.

'We must turn back and support the ground troops!' she cried, bursting inside. But her desperate pleas drew little more than a snarl of anger from the small group of seniors.

'The rudders been damaged, she won't respond properly.' cried the helmsman in response.

'Our ground troops can't stand alone against a fleet of that size. You're condemning them to death!' she yelled.

A Prefect next to the helmsman turned to face the upstart youth with a glint of madness in his eye. He saw the weapon she bore and snarled.

'What thinks you can order me, Long Fur? Get back out there and fight, now!'

'Our people are dying.' wailed the doe.

'The ship won't turn as she should. We cannot manoeuvre into a position quick enough. The enemy will tear us apart! Even if we were able, the Cowldonian are too many. We wouldn't stand a chance.' he barked angrily at being questioned so. 'We are close to the northern landing. Our best course is to make for it with all speed and prey to the All Farther it is not overrun!'

Nikita stilled her temper and listened to his reasoning. She knew the Prefect was right and nodded grudgingly to his words. She ground her teeth then made her way back to the deck, cursing under her breath.

The doe summoned a ball of energy and cast it angrily towards a passing ship. The orb was dark and matched her mood which surprised her. It caught the vessal's rudder and instantly exploded, sending the airship careering out of control into the darkness. She spat on the deck then headed for the bow.

The giant airship had listed portside since some of the ropes securing the enormous sack of air shackled above had come loose. The twin rotors mounted in the rear continued to turn in unison as they made their way to the landing platform. She could see it ahead now, and gripped the handrails tightly as her overcoat flapped wildly in the cold air. The smooth plateau of rock where the platform was sighted, jutted proudly out from the capital, high above the surrounding buildings. It looked clear and free from damage. Hopefully her people still held it.

She looked back to the cluttered skies behind. It seemed the invaders weren't interested in pursuing a lonely ship, and continued their attack on the streets below. A curious tactic she thought, and one which confused her since their wounded vessel was clearly easy prey.

'Ready yourselves, we approach the landing!' yelled a burly prefect wielding a spear. His grey fur was marbled with the blood of his enemies.

'I want every able soldier on me now. We'll make for the High Council upon landing, and regroup with any ground forces. Ready yourselves for a hard fight!'

Nikita whispered a prayer to the rushing wind as the Hand of Slarr began its final descent, hurtling straight for the landing site. Orders were yelled to decrease speed. The ship's crew worked quickly to engage the counter rotors, but they were slow to respond. Gouts of hot steam spewed into the night sky as the crews desperately vented pressure from the system, but the vessel was too heavy, its colossal weight propelled it forward. Panicked cries rang out as everyone realised she wouldn't stop in time.

The ship plummeted hard into the plateau, ripping its hull open in a spectacular spray of splintering wood, and cut a deep furrow into the earth. Nikita cried out as she slammed onto the deck, her halberd went spinning across its surface. The sound of death filled her ears as retaining straps broke, sending cargo creates tumbling forward, crushing some unfortunate souls with their mass. Others were knocked over the sides.

The vessel continued its path of destruction with unstoppable force. The screams of fear became lost to an almighty crack as the hull split in two. The aft potion dropped back and rolled onto its side, killing more of the crew with an appalling crunch of bodies.

The airship started to slow, but the ordeal was far from over. The securing ropes attached to the giant air bag ripped free of the aft section and began lifting the bow back off the ground with a deafening creak of wood. Panicked cries rang out as the nose lifted upward, demanding the ropes be severed. The crew desperately hurled balls of crackling energy into the hull until the bag became free, whilst others hacked at the taught lines wherever they could.

Finally, the bulbous sac came loose, and the bow crashed to the ground, leaving the gas bag to drift up into the night. Dust clouds choked the air, disguising the smoking ruins of the Hand of Slarr dying on the platform. A groaning mass of voices cried out in the night as the survivors slowly recovered.

Nikita got to her feet, feeling the pain from a dozen bruises across her beaten body. She staggered through the remains of the deck, coughing and spluttering, and searched for her weapon. She found it lodged deep into a wooden crate and went to retrieve it, pausing only to help those get back to their feet when she could. She walked past the pilothouse, and balked in horror as the settling dust revealed the skipper impaled on the steering column and the bodies of his crew lay broken at his feet.

The remaining Trian's gathered themselves sluggishly. The grey furred prefect shouted aloud for his people to rally on the platform. It took them some time, but eventually several dozen Trian's stood ready to fight with anger in their eyes. Those not able to fight stayed behind to tend to the wounded.

Nikita kept pace with the defenders as they headed down to the settlement floor, driving the pain of her aching body from her mind. She used it to fuel her anger. The doe wanted death, along with those of her group, and the Empire would give it to them. Of that she was sure.

She raised her blade high into the air as she ran, and cursed the invaders. The other Trian's cheered to have a Long Fur among them, and drew strength from her presence.

It wasn't long before her prayers became answered. No sooner had they left the confines of the plateau, the Trian's were greeted with a sea of grey, as Cowldonian soldiers raced up the main street, killing all those who opposed them.

The two forces meet under the light of fire as the capital burned. The clash of steel rang through the smoke-filled streets, followed by screams of death. The chant of war sprung forth as both sides made pledges to whatever deity they worshiped.

Nikita sated her rampant desire for blood on whoever opposed her, cutting a bloody wedge though her enemies with horrifying ease. Dozens fell to the swing of her crackling blade and she incinerated more with blasts of dark energy thrown from her hands. Her bloodlust became rampant, an insatiable desire. Once it was done, she sprinted off into the smoke in search of more foes to slay.

*****

'For the fallen. For Gideon!' Roared General Zion as he charged into the fray with a bloodstained sword. Hundreds of soldiers took up the cries as Cowldonia and Trian forces meet in an epic battle throughout the capital. One fought for conquest, the other survival. The attackers spat hate filled curses as they hacked down their foe. The streets ran red as the battle raged on, combined with the flash of crackling energy from numerous blast of Kier energy. The noise was incredible. The secret fleet had succeeded in distracting the filthy skritts long enough for them to blow the main gates. Now they withdrew, to let the bloodied hand of justice sweep into the city and cleanse it with light.

General Zion's face twisted in hatred as he hacked down another cur with his sword, ending the wretch's life with great satisfaction. His eyes looked past the maelstrom of death that surround him and saw the unmistakable shape of the city council building in the immediate distance.

'Onward men, with the light of the Emperor we shall secure our victory!' he cried, raising his sword.

The night was filled with raptures cries as men took up the cheer. United as one, the White Army pressed on with renewed purpose. A wolfish grin spread over the General's features as he thought darkly to himself.

History will remember this hour, and I shall rejoice as the Empire's saviour!

'For Cowldonia,' he roared defiantly, 'for Gideon!' and pressed on to the council.

D.R. Hurley

Thirty Five

'Keep fighting, we must push them back!' The defiant tones of a roaring Prefect gave strength to his soldiers as another wave of Cowldonian soldiers were repulsed from the council building.

Master Rykun looked onto the stone courtyard outside the building, from the safety of a balcony. The tall columns lining its sides had stood proudly for a thousand years, and were now streaked with blood and cracked from battle. Fires raged uncontrollably across rooftops, spewing huge plumes of thick black smoke into the night sky.

Rykun felt his heart break to see his beloved city burn, his oval eyes glistened with moisture as he watched his people lay down their lives to protect Altrad's beauty. How did it come to this in so short a time?

A sharp call alerted him back to the remaining council members, huddled around a giant map of the capital. Their Long Fur guards stood patiently close by, tightly gripping their razor-sharp halberds. Councillor Myer spoke first.

'Master Rykun, our defences are scattered. The enemy has divided us on two fronts, here and here. The continued bombardment of the enemy air fleet has scattered most of our forces. Pockets of resistance lie scattered around the city. Isolated and vulnerable.'

'What about our own fleet, were we able to raise it in time?' The Councillor shook his head.

'No, the swiftness of the enemy's arrival meant that most were destroyed before take-off. Even if they had all managed to launch, our numbers would have paled against the sheer mass of enemy vessels lined up against us. They must have had scores of workers building them for years.' Rykun weighed the response.

'Anything we can do?'

No. But oddly enough, the latest reports state the Cowldonia air fleet is pulling back, we are at a loss as to why.'

'Perhaps their commander wishes to take the fight to us personally?' pondered Rykun.

'A bold move indeed,' muttered councillor Allious, 'one that speaks of arrogance.'

'So be it then. Gather all our remaining forces, we shall meet them head on. I want a detachment of troops to sweep round from the south, picking up any bands of resistance along the way, then flank the enemy. The rest of us will hold here and form a distraction. With any luck, their leader will show himself, and then we can strike. Remove the head, and the beast will topple.'

'How do you know he'll show.' asked Councillor Berdon.

'If it is, he, I'm thinking of, there will be no doubt. Take courage, we may yet get through this-'

A blood-stained prefect burst into the room cutting Rykun off. His chest heaved back and forth from exertion.

'A large wave approaches from the east, they will be here in moments.' he yelled fearfully.

Rykun went back to the balcony and saw a mass of troops heading up the street in support.

We're out of time.

He turned back to the group.

'Ready yourselves now, we go to meet them. They must not enter the building. Long Furs, take the councillors to the upper levels and barricade the doors, protect them with your lives until this is done.'

'But sir, you must also remain with the other members.' cried a grizzled guard.

'I am in charge of defence. My role lies with our forces. Now do as I say.' he snarled, drawing his sword.

Rykun led his soldiers quickly down to the lower levels of the complex as guards sealed the heavy oak doors of the council chamber, running out just in time to see his foe.

Troops in grey came rushing towards them, screaming words of hate as they charged in. The battle raged quickly as soldiers from both sides fought bitterly against one another for their lives. Balls of light exploded amongst the ranks of enemy soldiers as Trian defenders hurled projectiles almost point blank at their foe. The stone courtyard became stained with blood as soldiers butchered each other mercilessly.

Rykun snarled angrily as he fought the invaders. He eyes caught sight of a large banner entering the courtyard, and stared hatefully at its colours of green and brown flapping amidst the chaos. He recognised the Cowldonian officer standing underneath. It was the enemy leader. General Zion.

Anger swelled within his breast upon seeing this foe. Rykun rallied what few troops he could and rushed over, yelling the All Father's name as he charged. The General looked up, hearing the battle cry, and smiled darkly.

'Leave the silver furred wretch to me. Take care of the others!' he said as the slender form of Master Rykun sprinted towards him, with sword in hand. The old Trian fixed the General's face with a hard glare, and prepared himself for the coming fight.

The two leaders clashed with a ringing of steel as they meet eye to eye, swords locked together. Rykun barred his fangs as he fought to break his opponents guard, but Marcus held him at bay.

'General stop, you know this is madness. The Prince of Cowldonia has not been taken by us. How can you justify the lives of my people?' yelled Rykun as they traded blows. His voice carried easily above the clatter of battle.

The General's face flushed with rage at his insolence and shoved the Trian back.

'Of course I know, foolish creature. The Prince is safe within our lands. His part played out beautifully for our cause, don't you think?' Rykun frowned.

'Your cause? Slarr's breath what are you saying. That you wanted this all along?'

Marcus smiled darkly upon seeing the Trian's distress and nodded.

'It's no less then you deserve.' he replied. Rykun snarled.

'This is insane. My people have done nothing to deserve this massacre-'

'Your kind has taken more blood from me than you will ever know. Now justice is at hand, the dead shall be avenged. Duth nei vannuth mou!' he yelled, pointing his sword towards Rykun.

The Trian's eyes widened to hear the forbidden language spoken aloud, and for a moment was taken back.

'How do you know that tongue?' he gasped, shocked at what he had heard. Marcus smiled.

'I know many things, Skirtt. Many things indeed. The Gods themselves have taught me their speech, for I am their chosen champion.' Marcus said, raising his arms.

He began to circle the Trian, testing his movement. Rykun replied in turn, stepping back to maintain some distance. As they moved, the old Trian felt his senses tingle as he looked into his opponent's eyes; there was something strange about this man's aura which didn't add up.

Reaching out with his mind, Rykun sensed an underlying fragment of power, coursing through the General. It wasn't much, only the faintest glimmer, but enough to strengthen his body beyond his years.

'Ahh, I see you have discovered my little secret. You impress me.' he growled, feeling the Train's mind upon him.

'What have you done?' whispered Rykun.

'Only what was needed. The key to the Gods power has been unlocked, for the good of the Empire. This body contains only the barest touch of their grace, but if you saw my children, well. That's another story. Their lives will strengthen our nation's reign for centuries to come. I doubt though, you be alive to see for yourself, little Hwethgar-'

'Stop it. Enough with those words!' shouted Rykun, finally enraged, 'it's forbidden to speak the language of Tumarr, nobody is worthy of that speech. The voice of the Gods is too dangerous for us to use, the teachings prohibit it.'

A cruel smile spread over the General's face; he had a manic look in his eye.

'Your teachings mean nothing to me. By my hand, justice will be served. My son will be avenged and your race, forgotten.' Rykun shook his head in pity for his foe's delusion.

'You are truly mad if that is what you believe.' Marcus smiled.

'You still don't agree? Very well. I have something for you now, little rodent. It is a gift from the gods. They instructed I give it thee.'

Marcus reached for the heavy sac, dangling from his waist and removed its contents. A severed hand was cast down to the ground before Rykun's feet. He gasped after seeing the stately ring bound to its index finger. It belonged to Callus.

'I see its presence please you. Good! Then you will be equally pleased to hear your friend Ambassador still draws breath, and it was he who revealed to me your council's location.'

'You monster. What did you do?'

'Only what needed to be done. But don't worry. I will soon end his pain, once his usefulness is spent. But you will be long dead before that happens!'

In the next instant, General Zion came straight at him without pause, lunging clumsily for his enemy, hoping for a quick kill. Rykun easily countered the attack with a flick of his wrist and stepped aside. Marcus roared in anger as he was left unbalanced, then thrust again. This time his blade was met with steel as both weapons locked. Rykun cursed bitterly in his native tongue, which only drew more laughter from the General.

The sounds of battle became lost as the two fighters duelled. Relentlessly trading blows whilst Cowldonia and Trian soldiers battled around them.

*****

Nikita heard the sound of her beating heart thumping in her ears as she ran into the back of the council building. She knew her uncle would be there, directing the defence, and left the safety of her troops in hopes of finding him.

She leapt up from the street and landed onto an open balcony. The sound of battle echoed dimly as she made her way inside the building, drawing a curse of resentment from the doe for not going to meet it. But she had to find her uncle.

She headed up to the council chamber on the floor above and entered. The circular room was empty, much to her surprise, but she called out anyway. She panted hard from her recent exertions and took a brief moment to recover.

The clash of steel and cries of pain could be heard outside, which drew the doe to the open balcony. Nikita gazed down and reeled at the unfolding slaughter below. It was clear to see from her vantage point the Cowldonian's were winning, slowly pressing back the Trian defenders through weight of numbers. One battle stood out amongst the fighting as warriors from both sides gave room to let the duellists fight unhindered. She watched helplessly as the two warriors traded blows. Her tail became rigid with fear as she realised who was fighting and began yelling frantically, her voice laced thickly with panic...

*****

Rykun paused momentarily upon hearing the cry and looked up to see his niece staring down at him. His opponent saw his distraction and acted immediately, stepping forward to thrust his blade deep into the Trian's ribs. Rykun screamed in pain as the weapon bit deep.

Marcus tried to press the attack, but was repelled when Rykun fired a weak blast of energy from his bony fingers. The bolt was small and hastily cast but found its mark, smashing into the General's chest with enough force to topple him. A blood slick sword left the General's hand when he landed, skittering across the stone floor.

Marcus looked down to the gaping hole in his chest plate, grunting painfully as hot fire burnt his skin. He cast off the ruined armour which had saved his life and scrambled away to recover his lost weapon.

Rykun meanwhile had regained himself enough to realise he could still take victory. He moved in for the kill, hoping to end this madness. His glittering sword raised high, ready to strike, but the blow never fell.

A sharp pain thrust into his chest, making him keel over...

*****

Nikita screamed in terror as she watched her uncle fall. The single arrow buried deep in his chest, erupted into a blazing lilac fire that ravaged his torso. Her feline eyes tracked the shot back to a young faced noble with bloodshot eyes, laughing manically as he dropped his short crossbow, and began striding over.

Captain Parmen grinned deviously to see the Trian leader fall. The sight of his pathetic form writing on the ground, filled the youth with glee. This was it; his time had finally come. With this kill, he would bring great honour to his name, the likes of which his illustrious family has never achieved. He would stand highest of all in the pages of history.

He took a moment to savour the kill. Watching keenly as the doomed Trian tried feebly to remove the flaming bolt from his chest. He smiled broadly at his discomfort. The arrow clattered to the floor. Its fire spent, but the damage was done.

Rykun wheezed painfully as he tried to slither away from the approaching officer, but it was no use. His body was failing.

Parmen stepped forth, eager to make the kill and raised his sword high. After a few feet the youth found himself pinned by the iron clutches of General Zion, whose haggard face was twisted in rage.

'That's my kill, boy. My destiny!' he roared, gripping the officer by his tunic. The blazing fire of Marcus's fake eye meet equal fury in Parmen's blood crazed stare as the men became locked. But fate was on hand and robbed both Cowldonians of glory...

*****

A piercing shriek from above made the pair look up to see a falling mass bare down on them with weapon raised.

Marcus reacted quickly, throwing Parmen into the path of their attacker's blade in a cowardly display. The crackling halberd blazed with fire as its wielder channelled raw energy into it. Captain Parmen stood no chance.

The youth barely had time to raise his sword as the mighty blow struck. Slicing across the man's face to catch his exposed arm. Parmen screamed as his severed hand clattered to the ground, still clutching his weapon. The scorching heat from the halberd had sealed the wound, leaving the scent of burnt flesh to poison the air.

He looked briefly at the crouching form of a Trian warrior before she leapt into the air once more. His hate-filled eyes tracked her path, eager for vengeance.

Nikita's robes splayed out widely behind as she landed in front her uncle, in an effortless display of agility. No sooner had she landed, the doe kicked out at the snivelling officer and sent him tumbling. The fires of her blade cut through the air as she spun her weapon around, ready for combat. Her long face became a twisted mass of features as she snarled at her next advisory, General Zion.

Marcus ground his teeth angrily for being denied his kill for a second time, and stared venomously at this new foe. He spun his sword in a wide arc, loosening his already weary muscles in preparation for the coming fight.

'You Skritt's just don't know when to quit!' he said bitterly, but Nikita didn't respond. Her eyes remained cold and her body poised. She crouched low before her hated adversary with her weapon held behind her back. Then suddenly she was gone.

The doe's powerful young legs thrust her high into the air, and over the head of her opponent, who barely had time to counter the downward strike of her halberd.

Marcus stumbled back as Nikita landed a few feet away, shaking with rage. She used the time to summon a large ball of energy from within, then sent it screeching into a group of soldiers, changing in to support their leader.

Bodies flew back as the blast exploded amongst their number, killing many instantly. The survivors were badly maimed and writhed painfully on the floor, clutching various injuries. The explosion caused Marcus to stagger back again. The two became separated as troops from both sides came flooding in to reinforce the area.

Nikita used the distraction to slip away and headed back over to her uncle. She quickly found him gasping and dragged him from the scene, trying not to look at the large smear of blood trailing in their wake. She hauled him back toward the outer edges of the courtyard. Rykun cried in pain and begged her to stop. Finally, she gave in and laid him against a stone pillar lining the courtyard, drawing more cries of pain from his dwindling breath.

The doe kneeled close to her dying uncle, and pressed her forehead against his gently. Her feline eyes glistened with moisture to see him so badly injured. What had she done? This was all her fault.

The old Trian smiled weakly between wheezing breaths and cupped her face with a blood-stained paw.

'Praise the All Father, you have returned to me child.' he rasped. His voice was deathly weak as the last of life force slipped away. She knew he didn't have long and began to weep.

'Forgive me uncle. I never should have left you. I have dishonoured the Long Furs, and my family. I've failed you all.' she said with gushing tears. Rykun smiled at his niece.

'No child, it is I that have failed you. I should have been more loving to you. More forgiving. I never meant to push you away.'

'You were just doing what you thought was right. I see that now. For all these years I hated you for abandoning my mother. But I've done exactly the same. I'm sorry uncle.'

Rykun reached up and grasped her shoulder gently.

'You had your reason's. I cannot blame you for that. Perhaps if I had told you the truth about your parents you would have seen things differently.'

Nikita looked at him curiously.

'What truth? I don't understand.'

'The story of your past is not as straight forward as you think. Nor easy to accept. The truth may have helped you to understand, yet there is still hope. Cullus still lives. He alone knows the tale of you parents. Rescue him from the clutches of the Empire and you will know the truth. You alone can do this. I have faith in you, Nikita.'

He drew her face close to his once more, gently pressing his forehead against hers in the traditional way of kinship. A final whispering of words escaped his lips.

'I'm proud of you my niece, forgive me for not loving you as a farther.'

Master Rykun became still, as death finally took him. His broken form slumped heavily against the stone pillar and looked at peace. The young doe gripped her uncle tightly as the tears fell. She wept deeply for a time, forgetting about the battle, and cursed herself bitterly for failing.

Her guilt filled heart soon turned to anger as hate swelled within. A surge of violence rose up from inside, and began to take control of her.

Nikita roared defiantly with rage, then leapt to her feet, ready to seek vengeance. She stared into the furious battle and was glad to be in its presence. She looked for the thickest mass of enemies and plunged carelessly in, eager to vent her fury.

Soldiers in grey fell freely to her weapon, like blades of dead grass. Her unstoppable wrath was matched only by her desire to kill. Hate filled energy surged into her halberd, setting it ablaze with the darkest of flames, the likes of which not seen by her kinsman. Her flurried blows left a searing trail of fire in her wake. The sizzling particles temporarily lit up the night as they hung motionless in the air. It was too much for the invaders, their lines started to break. None could stand before her anger as she quickly cut a bloodied path back towards the source of her hatred.

General Zion fought tirelessly amongst a troop of his remaining soldiers, pushing back the regrouping defenders with practised ease. The doe's eyes narrowed as his glittering blade cut down yet another Trian soldier. She screamed hatefully towards him.

'This slaughter ends now!' she roared whilst charging. Marcus turned quickly in response to meet this new challenge, and smiled darkly. The Skritt's berserk face pleased him greatly. He raised his blood-soaked sword in mocking salute.

The doe came straight at him. He waited until she was close, then roared as he raised his own blade to meet hers. Nikita's eyes widened as the General's sword burst into fire, which took the doe off guard. How was that possible?

Their weapons met with explosive force, cancelling each other out. The backlash sent a wave of heated wind coursing through the air. Marcus ground his teeth as a bone jarring force shuddered down his arms, and found himself skidding back before the doe's anger.

Nikita snarled venomously as the two warriors became locked in mortal combat. Their faces wracked in hate. The General was much stronger than he looked, and was able to hold her off, but the youth was supple, and speed was her ally.

Marcus leaned forward with gritted teeth, sweat pouring down his face. He hoped to use his weight to drive the Trian back and make her falter, but the doe was wise to the move.

Shifting her weight from her weapon, Nikita spun on her heel and let the man stumble forward. A clenched fist hammered into the centre of his exposed back as he passed, drawing a grunt of pain.

Marcus cried as he fell over, knowing he was open to attack. Time froze as he prepared himself for the blast of energy he knew she would unleash upon him. But nothing happened.

Rolling onto his back, Marcus was shocked to see a fizzing ball of energy held motionless in the air, mere inches from his position. He smiled menacingly as he saw a white being standing between him and the girl, and let loose a raucous laugh from his bloodied mouth.

Nikita snarled at the strange creature, who had somehow managed to halt her attack with its outstretched hand. She didn't know what the beast was, only that it blocked her way. The thing's black eyes remained fixed on her as it drew the crackling orb to its clawed hand before casually tossing it into the path of a Trian soldier, taking his life.

'It seems death has found you after all, little Hwethgar.' laughed the General as he rose awkwardly to his feet.

'Tell your deity, the rest of your kin will soon be joining you in the afterlife. Take her down now!' he snapped before leaving.

Nikita ground her teeth as the General re-joined his men. She'd already expended a huge amount of kier in the battle, and knew she couldn't sustain its use much longer. She would have to end this quickly.

Grudgingly, she kept her blade free of energy, and focused on her natural skill, whilst her body recovered.

The creature crouched into a fighting position and made ready to strike, but the doe moved first. Leaping right at the beast, she brought her halberd to bear upon its foul head, only to find the thing was gone. The being had vaulted backwards just in time; its incredible reflexes had saved it from decampment.

A flurry of blows soon followed as Nikita pressed the attack, fighting harder than ever. Her strikes rained furiously on the creature who managed to block them with its hands; turning aside attacks at the last second which should have killed it.

In a counter move, its clawed fingers grasped hold of the halberds shaft, before delivering a powerful kick to her waist with both feet.

Nikita lost grip on her blade and went sprawling away, feeling the hard sting of earth as the ground rushed up to meet her. The Ascended creature cast the halberd away. The sacred weapon plunged deep into a stone pillar, far from reach.

Nikita recovered, barely in time to dodge the ball of purple light the creature had thrown towards her position, and leapt hard mere seconds before impact. It exploded in the spot she would have been, leaving a smoking creator in the ground.

The doe countered with a blast of her own as she flew through the air, but the shot went wide of the demon. She landed gracefully on top of a courtyard pillar and saw the being give chase. Another blast of energy surged from her clawed hand as the creature leapt towards her position, but the pale beast battered the ball of energy away with a swipe of its hand. Nikita somersaulted backwards before the thing struck, and landed on a nearby rooftop where it continued to pursue her.

The pair fought bare handed across the burning roofs, punching and kicking with equal fury. Her skill was on par with the pale daemon. The anger she felt inside drove her on to greater heights of skill, but it would not last long. She could already feel the sluggish pull of fatigue entering her muscles.

A burst of light from her hands sent the thing sprawling as she shot it point blank in the face with energy. The creature shrieked a high-pitched wail, chilling her soul, as the impact seared its pale forehead. It recovered quickly, then leapt again; the force of its landing crushed tiles to splinters beneath its feet.

Jumping from roof to roof, the pair moved onto another building close to the city's boundary wall, below which ran the great river Ammos, which split the country in two. There was nowhere left to go.

Nikita felt her strength failing, and knew she had to end this match quickly before the thing overpowered her. The constant exertion of fighting started to take its toll on both fighters, as their attacks began to weaken.

Suddenly, the monster leapt onto her, in a desperate attempt to bring her down. Burgundy tiles clattered onto the ground as the pair fell onto the roof, locked in a bitter struggle. They rolled dangerously close to the roof's edge, sending more tiles falling.

Nikita leant forward and bite hard into its neck, tasting its blood. The sickly fluid poured into her mouth, making her gag. She spat dark fluid onto the roof as the creature wailed in pain, clutching its bleeding neck.

The doe turned to her side, just as the wraith fired a week bolt of energy from its fingers. The blast exploded in a shower of splintering stone as it tore through the roof, shredding the right side of her face.

Nikita screamed in pain from the injury and clutched her blinded eye. She felt a tingling force wrap round her body before being lifted into the air.

The creature held her motionless with its powers and summoned a dark ball of energy in its hand. She tried desperately to break free of the invisible force's grip, but it held her rigid. Then she remembered her tail.

She whipped it round sharply and swatted the creature's hand, causing it to drop the ball at its feet.

Bright light engulfed the pair as the rooftop suddenly exploded, sending both bodies tumbling through the air.

The doe's limp body plummeted over the wall, and into the flowing water of the river Ammos, where it disappeared. The Ascended creature crashed into a nearby rooftop and for a moment remained still. Its chest heaved back and forth as it recovered from its injury.

Slowly, it got to its feet then floated over to the wall. Its black eyes looked down to the river below, scanning its surface. There was no sign of a body. The flowing current had claimed her for itself.

The creature slumped wearily against the parapet and rested. The epic battle had taken its toll, and for a time it sat motionless, listing to the sounds of gushing water. It pressed a hand to its bleeding neck. Dark light emitted beneath its pale fingers, sealing the wound. Shortly after, a voice hissed inside the depths of its mind grabbing its attention.

The creature raised its hairless head up, fixing its black eyes on another pale being floating above. The mirror image of itself. A faint bruise lay on its skin, around its neck and forehead

Come brother, we have much work to accomplish. It said calmly.

The wounded creature nodded then got to its feet. A line of dark fluid trailed down its torso.

Once they were joined, the two beings floated in silence above the rooftops as the city around them burned. Plumes of dark smoke filtered into the sky from all directions as the sound of death continued to rain heavily throughout the night.

Altrad was theirs. And soon to, the world.

D.R. Hurley

Thirty Six

Rising from the plains of winter's grasp, stood a tower of rock and earth so mighty, its distant peaks were obscured from sight by a blanket of static clouds, clinging tightly around its presence.

The mountain stood alone at what seemed like the top of the world. An implacable mass which had existed since the cradle of time. Its roots stretched far into the very core of the planet. The lands around grew dark from its encompassing shadow, driving further an already inhospitable realm into one of total adverseness. No life was ever found in this place. The sound of wildlife had long since passed thanks to the endless gale, sweeping angrily around the mountain's base.

Leos blew hard into the woven scarf wrapped tightly around his face. The precious warmth of his breath already stolen by the time it left his mouth. This was the worst it had been since they'd left Anthrea. Even his companion seemed to struggle with the harshness of it all.

The Hibernian's blue skin was marbled purple as the wind stung her exposed flesh, but she pressed on regardless. Walking stoically in a trench of compacted snow, cut out by the creature Argoed.

The trio made their way ever closer to the rising mass of rock which dominated the near horizon. The storm was so bad now that Leos couldn't even tell if it was still day. Though he guessed it was, since the temperature was only just bearable.

So far, they had travelled quickly and with little hindrance. The terracotta roofs of Hibernia's capital seemed a fleeting memory since their departure, and Leos could barely remember the touch of warmth against his skin for it had been so long.

At night they sought refuge wherever they could find it. Sleeping in the bowels of a darkened cave, or against the mass of matted fur as Argoed sheltered them from the elements. Leos found little rest on such occasions. His mind refused to sleep for fear of waking under the crushing weight of hair, if for some reason the snow lion rolled over them. But of course, he didn't.

Argoed remained a stalwart friend throughout their quest. True to his word, the snow lion brought them safely through treacherous landscape. And now after days of travel, the Cowldonian found himself staring up towards the one place he'd hoped could reveal his identity.

In a rare moment of serenity, not yet witnessed since their arrival, the wind promptly receded, enough for the pair stand open mouthed before the glory of the mountain. Snow drifted gently to the ground in the still air.

'All those days of travel, and now this? If I knew which of the Gods to curse I would. This Elder race better be up there, so help me.' he grumbled.

Leos turned to face the girl, and found she was smirking. Probably sparked from the sourness of his mood.

'You think we'll find the Volanti up there?' he asked quizzically.

Lyanna turned her child-like face to his, and meet his stare with a familiar kindness. She smiled warmly at her friend and reached out to hold his hand.

'I don't know,' she said honestly, 'but what I can tell you is that whatever we do find up there, we shall do so together. No matter what happens.'

Leos smiled thankfully and gripped her hand gently, drawing courage from her response. A growl from behind cut through the tender moment, deep enough to cause a tremor of vibration through the ground.

The Cowldonian turned his startled gaze to meet the snow lion's giant head, mere inches from his own. Lyanna smirked, then laughed loudly, turning to rub her tiny hand across the beast's massive features.

'I guess we shall all find out.' she laughed. And with that, the trio stepped forth towards the rising landscape to face the great unknown, together.

*****

The pale creature watched silently from afar, as the companions began their ascent. Its slender body hung motionless above the frozen landscape as snow continued to fall, yet no flakes ever touched its pallid skin. Its demonic face, cast like stone, betrayed only the faintest twitch of emotion from its tentacle maw. A faint bruise marked its neck and forehead.

It waited patiently, until the group became little more than a distant spec on the mountain, impervious it seemed to the bitterly cold air, whilst its mind connected to the rest of its kind...

The Father stands close now to the cusp of his power. Soon he will rise, as our task comes to fruition.

This world is set to fall and we, his ever-devoted servant, shall walk forever in glory beside his divine step.

That is our destiny, the Gods have proclaimed it.

Nothing can stand in our way!

About the Author

An avid sci-fi and fantasy enthusiast, Mr Hurley enjoys spending his free time exploring the British countryside with his family, watching movies and creating fine Indian cuisine that contains an unhealthy level of heat.

He lives in North Wales with his wife and three children, their pet cat Fraggle and rabbit, Miss Sugar Sprinkles the 2nd. The Children of Zion is his first book.

If you liked the story, it would be absolutely wonderful if you could either share, or leave a short review on the platform you purchased it from.
