 
### Table of Contents

Description

Title Page

Copyright

The Passers

Prologue

Revenge

Lambord Redfear

Realisation

Old Wounds

Dreams Lost

Training Begins

History Lesson

Goodbyes to Some

Emeraldon

Training

The Hamlet of Verdalia

Progress Report

Word is Out

Woodland Round Up

Home Sweet Home

The Freegan Rise

Servant's Call

The Fire Hills of Dargoon

Battle Looms

Face to Face

Ride to Victory

A New World

On The Run

Destiny Fulfilled

Author Biography

End Credits

THE PASSERS

The Passers, Book One

Loretta Laird

At the time of Awakening, Jadara is awakened to her own destiny. She is the one who has been foretold to bring about the time of Change in the land of Fellnesia.

Meanwhile, the evil Greenflack tries to expand his reign of terror by enslaving the peaceful freegan; noble beasts from The Fire Hills of Dargoon.

With the help of the Passers, she begins to know courage and love in this heady mix of adventure and romance. Will true love conquer all in this epic quest?

THE PASSERS

The Passers, Book One

LORETTA LAIRD

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

THE PASSERS

The Passers, Book One

Copyright © May 2015 Loretta Laird

ISBN: 978-1-910397-88-6

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

The Passers

"They ride around with eyes of brown,

And souls within their skin.

When deaths abound, you'll hear their cry,

Make haste and let them in."
Prologue

The wind blew fiercely as the giant, panting horse galloped relentlessly through the deserted plain. Dark was falling fast and that meant that creatures far more terrifying than those in pursuit would soon abound. Shelter needed to be found and none knew this better than the grim-faced warrior who rode with such fury. The trust he had witnessed in the emerald eyes of his passenger haunted him with each passing league. A man could get lost in those eyes, a luxury he could ill afford. At least not until he'd found shelter, he found himself thinking with a wolfish grin.

The day had started well enough with an early wash in possibly the coldest water he had ever experienced. He and his men had gathered in the modest market place unaware, or perhaps unconcerned, with the wary glances of mothers as they sent their children inside or the wistful looks of several passing maidens as they found excuse after excuse to pass through the town's central square. They were making ready to leave.

The Passers never lingered in any place beyond a few starred nights. The danger both to the men and the local population was too great and their responsibilities to the land too vast. The people of this hamlet known as Jadehollow were the ruling kin-folk of the Air Element. Their aged king had passed and been returned to the elements and his Primary Mate, Oakina, was set to rule in his place until her daughter partnered with a Primary Mate and took on the role.

The process had been overseen by The Passers, hence their brief stay in the town, and had been a thoroughly dignified and solemn procedure with the grace that they had come to expect from the gentle, tree-dwelling folk of Jadehollow. Their royal kin-folk were adored by the people resulting in the richest land in the realm. The Passers were invited out of a deep-rooted respect for their calling and as a deterrent for any rival tribe who may foolishly think to intervene with the way things were done in Fellnesia. From time to time, a greedy group of kin-folk might have interfered with the order of life, but never with the Passers present. That is, until today.

Unbeknown to The Passers, a claimant to the throne order of Jadehollow was making his way towards the peaceful hamlet. He, a certain Greenflack, was a cousin to the deceased and next in the male lineage for the throne. He was now armed and in charge of an army five hundred strong. This army was awaiting the order to strike. Their primary target--one Princess Fernella.

The order was to crush any remaining opposition and take control. Greenflack, although a greedy and ambitious man, was clever. He knew of the presence of The Passers. He would never have expected his cousin to overlook the age-old rituals of passing and that could never be achieved without the timeless role of The Passers. He also knew that The Passers would be leaving sometime soon--gold really does buy you anything including kin-folk's loyalty--thus leaving the town defenceless and unsuspecting.

His only regret was that the lovely Fernella would not become his Primary Mate. Her on-going mortality was just too big a threat.

Greenflack, in his arrogance, had made one fatal flaw--ignoring the total fear and respect that The Passers' very presence inspired. They had no need of gold; just their role in the very fabric of Fellnesia equalled their freedom and dominance into any corner of society. Their warrior-like forms and tattooed markings coupled with a mysterious lifestyle gave them the awe of deities.

As Princess Fernella arrived in the market square to formally and respectfully dismiss the guests, Aquarion, the local blacksmith--a man very down on his luck since the arrival of a skilled wood crafter--could stand the guilt no longer. One glance at the dancing green eyes and the elegant glide of the royal princess as she walked towards The Passers, greeting everyone by name, was enough for his resolve to vanish and his humanity to dominate. He rushed towards The Passers, ready to confess.

A wall of bronzed muscled flesh blocked his path and he stumbled back, feeling like he'd struck a stone wall. He gazed up into fierce brown eyes, barely visible through the copper markings that adorned the faces, which were glaring back at him, frowning at the scrutiny.

"I-I... must speak with your leader," he choked. "A-a-attack!"

The men were brushed aside like flies as their leader, Lambord Redfear, emerged. If the wall of men were enough to induce nightmares, then this man was like the very devil himself and he was in no mood for a prolonged visit. He towered head and shoulders above Aquarion and was almost double his width. He wore the customary woven cloak of The Passers, slung over his naked shoulder and secured with an intricate silver broach. His young face was weathered from a lifetime spent exposed to the elements yet his lively brown eyes reflected his true age.

He was the youngest king ever to rule The Passers, having succeeded his own father five snows before when fever robbed the band of nomadic warriors of their leader. Lambord then just twenty-seven, took control of the men. He had proven his loyalty every day since and was soon hailed the most just and worthy king the men had ever served. Each of the mighty giants would willingly lay down his life for their ruler and he would return the honour for any of them. Thus, the band of brethren travelled around the land of Fellnesia assisting the souls to pass to their new form as was fitting to the Element of their kin.

Lambord now loomed menacingly above the troubled wood crafter.

"Spit it out, man!" he growled. "What is all this talk of attack?"

By now Fernella had arrived on the scene and was resting her arm lightly on the arm of Aquarion ready to defend him, her subject, against this bear of a man who was clearly intimidating one of her beloved people. She turned on the Passer, her eyes ablaze with anger, sparks flashing in the emerald irises. Not a trace of fear was there which, for a moment, took the breath from the warrior king. He gazed back, momentarily forgetting that word 'attack.' The look that met his seemed to tear at his very soul. He quickly blinked and cursed himself for being in the same place for too long. It always began to stir up passions in his men, and the urge to set down roots. He was usually immune to such thoughts; usually content to satisfy a physical desire only.

He shook his head, banishing his worries, and returned his awareness to the angry eyes before him.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well, what?" he bit back, determined to meet this vixen on his terms.

"What do you have to say to my friend here? Why are you being such a bully?"

He spluttered, aghast at the accusation. "Me? He was the one shouting about an attack."

By now, it had all become too much for Aquarion. The loyalty that his princess was showing him, standing up to this barbarian made his betrayal more real. He broke down in tears, his shoulders racked with sobs.

Eventually, the sorry tale unfolded and Aquarion was dismissed to be taken to a holding place to await trial. He could not stomach a glance at the lady Fernella, whose downcast head and pale hue were more than enough punishment to haunt his dreams. His moment of weakness would destroy the very fabric of the society that he had played his part in so gratefully, the society where his children had been raised and the place where his Primary Mate had been returned to the element of air.

"I owe you an apology," she whispered. "I just never thought for one minute..." her voice trailed off. He heard her sharp intake of breath and witnessed her head shoot bolt upright, a determined look appearing upon her face.

"Battle!" she stated. "We must go into battle."

Impressed by her mighty words yet realistic about the chances of a grieving town against a trained army, Lambord Redfear made a decision. A decision that would cause him more trouble than he could ever envisage. A decision that would change the very fabric of the society that he worked so hard to protect; a decision that became his destiny and the destiny of many who came after him. In truth, it was a decision that went against the very code of The Passers yet seemed to fulfil their very existence.

He decided to rescue her.

He caught up with Fernella about a hundred yards from her tree dwelling. She was preparing to collect her battle armour and sword bow. He hurriedly outlined his plan to remove her from danger, stressing the importance of her survival. She disagreed vehemently and tried to force her way past his burly frame. With a laugh, he swung her up onto his shoulder, whistled for his horse and leapt astride. Just as the distant sound of metal clashing with metal reached their ears, they were cantering out, passing the last house and entering the forest beyond.

Despite her pounding fists on his back, despite all her orders, cries and finally pleas to return her to fight and, if necessary, die with her people, they did not pause. Not until they reached a distant mountain top did he decrease the pace. There he brought the horse about and pointed towards a burning settlement in the distance.

"Look!" he instructed. Turning her face with his fingers under her chin, he repeated "Look! Your home."

Tears filled her eyes, giving them the image of a clear pool before they overflowed.

"Why?" she asked. "Why?"

"Greed," he answered, respecting this woman enough to address her with honesty. "A claim to your land and a plan to kill you. They won't rest now until you are found and destroyed. I will take you to a place where you will be protected. A land such as yours, where people are true and kind of heart. There we will plan to reclaim your land and liberate your people. You were no good to them dead. You alone are the true heiress to your kin-folk."

As she gazed into his dark eyes, he saw a look of trust that caused an unfamiliar knot of emotion deep within his throat. She nodded and managed a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Later, after a weary ride, they found a cave secluded in the side of a steep mountain. The air was thinning and there was a sharp chill that crept about them. Lambord made short work of starting a small fire, enough to warm them but not to attract attention.

Shy now, aware of the proximity between them, she quietly sat and watched the flames dancing and making patterns. She shuddered as she thought of the flames engulfing her precious home and tears once again sprung to her eyes. Mistaking her trembling for cold, Lambord draped a fur around her shoulder, tucking it in under her as she sat.

"Where is it we are going?" she enquired as calmly as if they were out on a day trip. "We are a long way from the Air Element kin-folk."

"You would not be safe there," he warned. "I am taking you to the mountains, just beyond this one as a matter of fact. My sister lives there with her Primary Mate. He is Water."

She gasped, for the first time showing signs of fear. "Water? They will never accept me."

"Stories and rumours are the best defence." He smiled kindly. "When we learn to fear then we rarely explore the world," he added mysteriously. "The people of Turonia are simple folk ruled over by a worthy chief, Harmish Greywater. He is my brother in all but name and will open his home to you. His kin-folk will then follow his lead. You will be safe."

Fernella sighed and suppressed a yawn, nodding both to his calming words and with the heaviness that sleep brings. She shivered; this time with cold, and Lambord moved towards her, opening his arms to swallow up her tiny frame. She turned towards him to offer her thanks then gasped as his breath reached her face in a gentle caress. He was so close now. She began to wonder what it would feel like to have those lips on hers. She did not have to wonder for long.

He leaned in towards her, seemingly mesmerised by the depth of her eyes and the beauty that would be his this night. With a quiet sigh, she offered her consent.

Revenge

"She's nowhere, my Lord." A young man with long, fair hair approached with a timid step. He was concerned about the news that he had to deliver, news that the princess Fernella had eluded them. Cool green eyes regarded the messenger with contempt.

"A maiden has escaped from a mighty army with no trace?" he roared. With a movement as swift as lightning striking, Greenflack drew his sword and impaled the youth. The corpse crumpled to the ground as Greenflack stalked away.

"Unacceptable!" he muttered.

Surveying the carnage all around him, Greenflack allowed himself a moment of pure delight. He had conquered the elusive hamlet of Jadehollow despite the presence of The Passers. No one was left to contest his claim. The Passers lay scattered and lifeless at his feet. The kin-folk cowered in their dwellings as his men enjoyed the spoils of the battle. Maidens were had, be they willing or unwilling; his men paid no heed. Their urges would be sated this night regardless.

Greenflack stepped across the body of Aquarion, impaled by the sword of Greenflack's first officer.

"Traitor." Greenflack spat a globule of moisture onto the corpse.

A raven-haired man approached with the air of one used to his own authority. His eyes scanned the bloodbath and took in the power hungry gaze of his Lord.

"Greenflack," he greeted his superior with a brotherly gesture. "We have a situation I'd like you to attend to personally."

Greenflack spun around, at once intrigued. For Em to require his presence, it must be interesting indeed.

"Lead on!" he ordered brusquely.

Stepping almost daintily between the bodies, the men moved towards a small hut as if performing a macabre dance. They pushed open a rickety wooden door, which swung on its rusty hinges with a creak.

Inside the small dwelling crouched a figure that Greenflack had heard of only in boyhood tales. Its smooth scaled head protruded from a hunched body. The figure, although human in shape, glowed with a silvery radiance. It rasped as it rocked, staring straight into the small fire that lit the cramped space.

"Dolchie!" breathed Greenflack, gasping for air in the confined room.

His heart hammered in his chest, his earlier joy replaced by terror. The Dolchie were rumoured to foretell what was to come. It was said that they saw the colour of a man's soul and all whose destiny they revealed would ever after fear their magic. Their revelations were said to entwine with the lives of those chosen and the predicted future would shape the present. Greenflack had imagined them to be a legend but here he was gazing upon the gruesome truth.

"Greenflack," hissed a gravelly voice emanating from the creature before him. "Come closer to the glow of the flame. You are indeed chosen by the Dolchie to hear your destiny."

Greenflack listened; his mouth gaped in horror.

"A day will come when your reign will end. One who joins the worlds will defeat you; a Passer, yet so much more. She is the three that has been spoken of since the dawn of time. The Change is coming and your end will be swift, Greenflack. Draw on the freegan at your peril. They are more than your frail mind can control. You will rue this day, the day you became ruler of Jadehollow, for it is not your destiny. You dare to defy fate and you will pay the price with your very soul."

The Dolchie gasped for air and its rocking intensified. "Pain!" it screamed. "So much pain!"

The screams reverberated around the small hut as Greenflack burst out gasping for clean breaths of air. He leaned heavily on the wooden frame that held the entry point.

"Kill it!" he snarled at Em. "Find the princess and kill that... that thing."

Em's face paled at the prospect of murder. He was many unpleasant things but cold-blooded killing never sat well with him.

"Coward!" sneered Greenflack, casting a disgusted look at his pallid companion. Pushing his way back into the hut, he strode across the room and reached out towards the curled up figure. Grasping its neck with his powerful hands he twisted, fuelled by a burning fury. The snap that ensued sickened Em's very soul.

A surge of brutal energy coursed through Greenflack's body, a sensation he had never experienced before. The essence of the Dolchie seemed to pass into him. He felt a burning rage and silver shards sparked from an aura that surrounded him. He felt an emotion beyond anger and it filled him with ecstasy. Gasping for air once more, Greenflack burst from the hut, splintering the frame as his glowing form forced its way into the daylight. A trail of silver interlaced his flesh and settled in a spiralled twist over his body.

Rage still consuming him, Greenflack turned to Em. "Fail me again and it will be your neck that is severed. Now find me Fernella!"

Not waiting to be told twice, Em raced off to mount his horse. He was an experienced tracker and soon picked up the trail of hoof prints on the dusty track. Hoof prints too large for an Air Dweller. A Passer's horse had left the hamlet, of that he was sure.

Greenflack considered the prophecy he had heard. Freegans were an option he had not considered. They were creatures of old. They had been part of Fellnesia since the dawn of time. Their power and fiery essence could be very valuable to him. If he could harness such power, he could truly conquer the whole of Fellnesia. Greed filled his vile heart as he sought a way to harness their spirit to his will. A surge of raw energy filled him and he glimpsed himself touching the flesh of a freegan. The thrill that ensued convinced him of his plan. The Dolchie must have transported their energy to him and he would use it to foresee his own path.

Crowing with arrogance, Greenflack made ready to trek to the Fire Hills of Dargoon. There he would face the freegan and bend them to his will. Fernella would be stopped and his reign would begin. A slow smile spread over his scarred face as he rode north.

Lambord Redfear

Lambord Redfear had never experienced a feeling akin to that which he felt when he left Fernella in the mountain hamlet of Turonia. He knew that his sibling Drew, and her Primary Mate, Harmish Greywater, would care for her. He had seen it in their eyes as they greeted the two weary travellers on their arrival late last night. Childless from an unfortunate ailment that had cursed his sister since the time of her first bleed, they had lived as guardians for an assortment of waifs and strays ranging from injured animals to orphaned youngsters. Kind-eyed and always ready with a hot meal and a word of comfort, Drew and Harmish presided over their kin with fairness and harmony.

The small hamlet of Turonia was perched almost precariously on the side of the tallest mountain in Fellnesia. It was accessed by a winding pass that was hard to negotiate on the best of days and totally impassable for most of the snows. This made it the perfect place to secure a princess who was in hiding from a terrible threat to her life. Lambord knew enough about Greenflack's type to know that he would want one of only two things from a pretty rival to the throne order--instant death or a life as his mate, the latter being a far more gruesome option in Lambord's opinion.

Although he was not able to take a Primary Mate himself, he had no intention of allowing this beautiful green-eyed girl to be mated with another. The nights spent in caves along the route to Turonia had awakened him to how it would be to take a Primary Mate and a little piece of him would never again feel fully satisfied with his life as a nomadic Passer.

Lambord now sat at the bottom of the mountain looking up at the little dwelling that he'd just departed. He was reluctant to leave yet knew that his duty was to the men that he had left behind. The Passers did not abandon their own, his father had taught him that, but he had known that his destiny lay entwined with the Air Princess. He'd known as soon as he beheld her, eyes blazing as she'd sprung to the defence of Aquarion. It was as if he was back with the Dolchie when it had foretold his own fate. Foretold the part that he must play in bringing about The Change.

* * * *

Long ago, a woman mated with a Passer and bore him a son. This was a rare occurrence in Fellnesia as The Passers were not permitted to take a Primary Mate. That son was Lambord. As a young boy with unruly curls and wide brown eyes, Lambord was taken from his mother. He was claimed by the order and hailed as their next king. From then on his training ensued and he was schooled in weaponry, history and, of course, passing.

Lambord had taken to the fighting well. He was a natural swordsman and bested many of the more experienced men by the time he had grown hair on his chin.

Passing was another issue. He shuddered and shied away from the presence of souls as they searched for a willing vessel to carry them to their resting place. Lambord was eager to sport the intricate bronze marks that were left as a constant reminder to the bearer of his fight but he balked at the thought of another's soul entering his body for the duration of the passing.

It was with a strong sense of unease that Lambord first entered the tree dwelling of the dying man. The Passers had been summoned to Carster, an Air dwelling deep in the central forests of Fellnesia, slightly south of Jadehollow. Their kin chief, Grenite, had been ailing and had sent word to fetch The Passers. A death meant a passing ceremony where a day was spent in grief then a celebration for the life and the safe passing of the soul followed. This could last for many more days and was a chance to celebrate the lives of the living as well as the passing of the soul. Many Primary Mates were selected at these occasions, and many more casual matings occurred. A life created at such an event was surely a life blessed.

Lambord covered his mouth with distaste as the pungent odour of death assaulted his senses. The old man lay swaddled in cloth and curled up as he would have looked in birth. His bed was carved with markings depicting tree-dwelling creatures and leaves, carved with the care and love associated with this kin.

Lambord started as he recognised the presence of the man's essence trying to escape the failing frame of age. It surged with a powerful force and leapt through the air as it felt the Passer enter. Unprepared for the onslaught of energy, Lambord was thrown to the floor. He shook his head, not quite certain what had transpired. A warm glow tingled in his arm and spread up through his body bursting into every part of his form. A snake-like pattern encircled his wrist and spread up towards his shoulder, leaving a permanent trail of dark copper colour. It stopped just under his armpit, spiralling around his muscled contours.

Lambord felt his mind close as it had been trained to do. Souls were to be transported only. They were not allowed to penetrate the mind of The Passer. Lambord could hear the thoughts of the dying man and see his life story unfold before his eyes. A large tear fell down the Passer's cheek as he saw the pain and loss that death evokes.

Struggling to his feet, Lambord sensed another's presence in the room. He turned quickly, ready to draw his hook sword from its place at his side. A silver glow in the corner of the room stopped his action dead.

"Dolchie!"

The silver shape hissed and rocked, pulling itself closer to Lambord.

"Passer King," it whispered. "Yours is the destiny I tell."

"But I am not the king," he corrected. "This is my first Passing."

"King you are, boy," it continued murmuring with a reptilian voice. "Eyes of green will seek you out. That is the life you must preserve. She must be saved. The Change is within. Three worlds meet."

The creature closed its bulging eyes and fell silent.

"What green eyes?" demanded Lambord. "Who must I save? Where and when?"

His questions fell into the room and met silence. The Dolchie spoke no more. Lambord pushed his way out into the light, catching his breath as the fresh air bombarded his lungs. He stood gulping great mouthfuls of the sweet air of the forest. Within him, an eager soul craved his resting place. Lambord could see the place, a quiet glen dappled with the sun's light. The trickle of a stream played sweet music into the tranquil space.

Lambord set off into the forest striding purposefully. He had a few leagues to go, but he knew his path. Two burly men followed the young Passer. They hung back, but their presence offered the support and protection required. The boy was proving himself a just and worthy addition and the men were already as loyal to him as they were to his father, the king.

The sun had travelled a fair way across the sky when Lambord finally pushed his way into a clearing and stopped. The fading light gave the clearing an ethereal glow. Lambord looked around for the guidance of the older men. It had felt right up until now but suddenly he was unsure. The enormity of his part in the circle of life seemed to loom like an insurmountable force. A strong hand gripped his shoulder, and he felt soothed.

"You feel despair, lad. It is just the soul making its final adjustment to death. It tries to hold on for one last moment but then it will be gone. Be strong, lad, and just let it pass."

Lambord smiled his thanks to Roughier, his favourite tutor. The smile died on his lips as a spasm caught him unaware and he sank to his knees. Howling like a wounded animal, Lambord felt a sensation like his insides were being ripped from his body. A rush of wind followed, and Lambord fell forward onto the damp green grass. He lay still, unaccustomed to the helplessness he felt. Two strong arms pulled him to his feet and held him tight.

"That's it, lad. That's it. He's free now. Your part is done."

Roughier held the younger man close, despite his manly bulk. The first passing could take its toll, he knew that well. They stood for a few moments, embracing when another tattooed body burst through the clearing.

"Lambord, your father, the king... He's dead. Messengers have just arrived. His horse threw him off, and his head hit a rock. They found him leagues from here. He was cold. There was nothing they could do. The men have gone to collect him. Come!"

Lambord made it back to the hamlet and gazed at the man he had called king and father. He lay regally on an ornately carved wooden bed. Roughier leaned in to absorb the soul, a pattern that resembled the fortress battlements appearing boldly on his chest as he did so.

"We need to leave," he instructed. "If that is your order, my Lord," he added quickly, looking to Lambord for confirmation.

Lambord looked around at the circle of grim-faced men. They bowed their heads respectfully at their new king.

"We ride!" It was the first order that Lambord, King of The Passers gave.

* * * *

Now, looking up at the hamlet of Turonia, Lambord knew that he had played his part in The Change. Whatever that girl was destined to do or become, his part in that journey was done. Lambord's task now was to find his men and regroup. Their fortress, all be it abandoned, would no longer be safe. Greenflack was sure to search for the girl there. Lambord took one last look at the mountain sanctuary where he had left a small piece of his heart. He dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and galloped away.

Two green eyes surveyed him from a rocky concealment. Watching his retreating figure, the onlooker then turned towards the mountain pass and proceeded to ascend.

Realisation

It scarcely seemed like time had passed, yet seven awakenings had come in the land of Fellnesia. In the mountain dwelling of Turonia, a small girl, Jadara, was hidden from view. She could hear the thundering of hooves approaching the hamlet up the winding mountain pass but had learnt to hide at that sound, as her mother had taught her. Jadara knew not why, yet with each stranger's approach she was concealed from view.

Her own wise theory--and one supported by her co-conspirator and greatest friend, Thanly--was that something had gone wrong with her eyes. They shone and sparkled like the eyes of her kin yet were a muddy brown colour. Thanly often remarked that she needed to bathe more. He added, with the wisdom of his eight years, that if she managed to remove the grime her eyes would surely shine blue like the rest of the kin-folk.

Jadara had tried. Her face had stayed red for a week after the scouring she had subjected herself to. Yet brown her eyes remained. The amber glints that sparked in them when she was angered reminded Thanly of the fires they would gather around to protect themselves from the chill of the snows. He secretly thought that Jadara's eyes were rather splendid and was envious of their depths. Yet he would have rather been buried in ice than admit that to his devoted friend.

Her mother, grandmother and grandfather consoled Jadara's wails. They praised her beauty and assured her that her eyes were just as they were supposed to be. Her mother would hold her close by the light of the fire and tell her tales of princesses and kin-folk far away. Jadara adored her mother and would not have been adverse to eyes the colour of new grass like hers, but all she had were muddy brown ones that resembled the mountain pass after the rain. It was a pain she bore at the tender age of six and a half.

Not once, though, did such anguish deter her from her favourite pursuits of tree climbing, fighting and hunting. Thanly joined her in all but the scaling of the eark trees. He just did not seem to have the skills required and ended up slipping to the bottom in an ungainly heap. Thus, Jadara was able to claim her revenge for his taunts about her unfortunate eyes.

So, as the horsemen galloped by, those wide brown eyes peered out from behind the grey stone wall. It was a wall that went some way to supporting the ramshackle hut, an exclusive design for the mountain regions of Fellnesia. Those eyes stared out in wonder and awe as The Passers arrived in town.

Mothers shooed their young ones inside and fathers rushed out to greet the travellers as brothers, as friends. Doe-eyed girls suddenly eager to run errands sought any opportunity to wander past in the hope of attracting the attentions of the ruggedly handsome strangers who promised a life of adventure and escape from the toil that mountain life could bring.

Pots were soon boiling and the fresh smell of mutton broth and freshly baked bread filled the air. Ale ran as freely as the flow of the mountain streams. There was a festive atmosphere these nomads were able to conjure up on arrival at any small dwelling with the skill of enchanters.

Night fell to the sounds of storytelling and dance. Maidens were flushed with the onset of sexual awakenings coupled with crafty sips of the strongly brewed mead and intoxicated with the men's tales of adventures of far off lands and oceans.

The small child sat unseen now, concealed beneath a laden table, watching, listening, and wondering. Her brown hair, unkempt and tangled, curled around her face, framing those amazing eyes that seemed to shimmer in the dancing light of the fire. She would not be missed this night. The hut would likely not be searched but if it were, her cunning ruse of plumping her sleeping mat with padding was bound to work. It had on many other occasions, occasions where she and Thanly had explored the moonlight tracks around the mountains or taken torches to investigate the tunnels beneath.

She could see from her vantage point that her mother, Fernella, had other things to think about, like the strangely familiar warrior who was demanding her undivided attention. This Passer was unlike the rest. His broad shoulders and bronzed skin contrasted with the terrifying and intricate markings that covered his arms and chest. They were the markings of a great warrior, a leader of men, yet his eyes were soft. His manner was unlike the burly, boisterous nature of his men. He sat apart from the others, at a distance from the crowd, looking deep into the emerald green eyes of her mother, whispering words that she could not make out from her hiding place. His damp hair framed his face in soft waves and his eyes, the colour of autumn leaves, twinkled in the depths of his weathered face.

He laughed out loud as a blush appeared across her mother's cheeks, the rumbling sound reaching her ears like approaching thunder. The girl, one Jadara Elicia Greywater, daughter of Fernella Greywater and adopted granddaughter of the late kin-folk Chief Harmish Greywater, shivered, unable to tear her gaze from the scene before her.

Harmish would have challenged any man who dared to suggest that this child and her mother were anything but kin to him and had done since the day Fernella mysteriously arrived in the hamlet that nestled on a flat ledge at the side of the Highyet Mountain. Its curve of huts and lofty location shielded its inhabitants from harm. It was, in fact, the perfect place for the true and rightful heir of Jadehollow to birth her child and stay hidden from the evil that hunted her. Plainly Fernella was of the Air, her emerald eyes betrayed her birthright, but Harmish claimed her and fiercely protected her and her daughter until his death.

As suddenly as these things are prone to happen, the scene that the unruly child was so content to watch became a scene in which she took an active role, as providence, or fate, played a hand. This hand came in the form of a small, seemingly harmless mouse. It was a harvest mouse just going about its nightly business yet playing a part in the destiny of this unaware and innocent young child.

The mouse had begun its journey from its cosy nest, drawn out by the sweet aroma of food. It ran quickly under the table--the table that concealed Jadara. It followed its nose towards the scent, towards fate. Unbeknown to that small, grey rodent, it was to become the instrument for change. Change in the life of Jadara.

The scream that ensued was enough to wake the dead, or so said the local hags many days later, determined to embellish the events with each new telling. A little jumble of curls and cloth shot out from under the table and straight into the unwitting arms of one Lambord Redfear, warrior king of The Passers. Being of strong mind and even stronger limb, he scooped up the terrified child and met, eye to identical eye, a startling revelation. His magnificent head raised and those chocolate eyes bored into the very soul of Fernella. His brows lifted in just one single question. In contrast, Fernella's head bowed, the blush deepening upon her silky cheeks.

"Mum," said the sorry child, sniffing. "It was a mouse, Mum. You know I don't like them mouses." Large salty tears fell as Jadara, blissfully unaware of the awkward situation, continued to sob. Her thin shoulders shook as she sniffed and hiccupped sorrowfully.

Lambord's muscled arms tightened instinctively around the trembling shoulders of the tiny waif in his arms. He checked to ensure she was unharmed, suddenly aware of his own brute strength as he searched the down-turned face of Fernella. He was searching for the answer he somehow knew he would see. A slight nod was all he needed as a powerful swell of emotion flooded his very heart and soul.

"She's yours," Fernella stated with a resigned tone.

"But... Why? Why didn't you tell me?" Lambord's quiet question was framed with a steely edge as his eyes glittered like granite.

By now some of the other Passers had sensed unrest in their king and were circling the unusual group with hands poised by their belts, ready to draw their sickle-shaped weapons on command. Hand raised, Lambord gave the silent order to stand down, painfully aware of two wide eyes that were staring out from his shoulder. Trembling tears were replaced by shudders of terror.

"It's all right, lass. Hush now," he soothed in a gravelly voice choked with raw emotion. "Who do we have here?" he added trying to raise a smile from the elfin child in his arms.

"Jadara Elicia Greywater," she replied her chin now set into a proud line. "Please, put me down now. I am not a baby. I am six and a half."

Despite himself, a low chuckle escaped the lips of the Passer king. With a bow, he put the child to the ground. Tilting his head to one side, he introduced himself.

"Lambord Redfear, King of the Passers."

With a contagious giggle, Jadara extended him a curtsey then in a hushed voice that only he could hear, she added, "Please don't tell anyone else that I was 'fraid of a mouse. My friend Thanly would laugh himself silly."

With a roar of merriment that made several onlookers jump clean off their feet, the Passer king tapped the side of his nose and agreed to the secret. He then patted Jadara on the head and sent her off to bed before turning a rather more serious look upon her mother.

Old Wounds

Ten more snows came and went before The Passers were seen again in the hamlet of Turonia. In fact, it was starting to be as if they were merely legend, a tall tale for those cold nights huddled around the fireside. Yet, one day when the streams began to flow again, in the time of new growth, a herald arrived breathlessly eager to share news that The Passers were a mere day's ride away. By all accounts, it was added, they were riding as if the very devil were on their backs.

In the light of the dawn, Drew looked at her granddaughter as she pumped the water. She watched her, smiling every now and then as villagers passed by. She would soon lose her, she knew, just as she had lost Fernella, the girl's mother, that past winter.

"And what will himself have to say about that when he gets here," she wondered aloud.

They had done all they could, but the fever took who it chose, and that was the way of things. She'd been returned to the elements without the presence of The Passers. This was not fitting but the snow had been impenetrable. She'd been returned to the Water, not the Air. They'd come too far for the secret to be revealed now.

"Speaking of secrets," she said, smiling wryly to herself as she gazed once more at the familiar features of her beloved granddaughter. The scrutiny caused the maiden to turn around and look back towards the stooped form of her once strong and virile grandmother. This winter really had taken its toll on the mountain hamlet. She knew this from painful experience having lost her dear mama to the fever. A cloud of raw hurt passed across the young maiden's expressive brown eyes. She managed to mask the emotion and grin in the direction of her observant gran who had not missed the pained look of a moment before.

"What?" she laughed, shaking her unruly curls loose of their tie. "Not working quickly enough for you? You are such as taskmaster," she added as she closed the gap between her and the old woman in a few long strides.

Her gran gave a wry grin "You, Jadara Elicia Greywater, work hard?" she cheekily replied, showing the spirit that her weakening frame often denied her. "Pigs might fly!" Then, in a more serious tone, she added, "We need to talk," patting the log next to where she had begun to lower herself.

Jadara frowned, at once stretching out her hand to assist her senior in the process of sitting. The hand was, of course, slapped away.

"I am not dead yet, girl. If the day comes when I can't sit down on my own, take me out and slice me up with your sword bow!"

They both sat rather awkwardly on the log as Drew composed herself to continue.

Jadara respectfully waited showing patience beyond her years. Love and mutual respect were evident between these two women separated only by generations yet united by love. Passers-by might have smiled at the tranquil scene before them, oblivious to the inner turmoil of Drew and the weight of the secret that she was about to reveal. It was a secret that would tear the last thread of her family apart. A secret that could threaten all she knew and loved. A secret that could threaten the whole of Fellnesia.

"Do you remember your father?" Drew started cautiously, knowing the effects these words had on the fiery temper of her ward. "The one they call Lambord. The warrior king of The Passers. He came by here last when you were a child. You may not recall."

"Huh!" scoffed Jadara unimpressed by the grand titles but angry at the sense of abandonment that those names could evoke. She did remember the strong arms and rumbling laugh of the giant man who had lifted her off her feet so many years before. She had recorded the moment in her young mind, desperate to have the kind of father that her peers enjoyed. A father who was there to tend wounds, light fires and cuddle up to in the harsh bite of the snows.

"Father! That implies some sort of commitment, doesn't it?" she queried not meaning to channel her anger towards the loving relative before her.

"That's enough of that," warned Drew. "The Passers are a respected force in these parts and no one speaks about them so. His duty goes beyond you, I'm afraid. It is time for you to grow up and face a world that is beyond what you know and hold dear. A world at war. A world where you will become a key part. Your decisions today will affect many for years to come. I just fear that you are not ready."

"Ready for what? Gran, you are talking in riddles. How are my decisions important? I am only going to decide what to cook for dinner and what time I will meet with Thanly for target practise. How can that change anything?"

"Word has come that The Passers are riding. They are making their way here, through the awakening," Drew said. "Jadara, they are coming for you."

Drew reached out to touch the familiar hand of this serious girl who, despite looking as far removed from a water dweller as was possible, had come to mean as much to her as her mother before her. She closed her weary eyes as she remembered Fernella, the wide-eyed girl who had arrived so many summers before. Lambord had been precise in his instructions to care for her. Her life mate, Harmish had agreed without hesitation. Lambord had that way with people. He had ever since they were children growing up on a mountain so very far from there but so like the one she herself had been brought to as a young maiden, ready to be mated. Her thoughts really were wandering now; Drew laughed to herself as she was brought back into the moment by a gentle squeeze of her hand.

"Gran, Gran, can you hear me? You said that they were coming for me?" she gently reminded the older soul. "What use would I be to them? I don't want to go. They can't make me, can they? You'll stop them, won't you, Gran? Gran?"

Drew smiled into the brown eyes that sought her reassurance. "Darling," she soothed. "When I have finished my tale, you will go with them. If I know you, and you know I do, you will even go willingly."

"Never!" spat out Jadara vehemently.

She eagerly settled down to listen though, Drew noted to herself. And she began the tale from that start.

Dreams Lost

Many hours and many more questions later, Jadara wandered out to her special place, the place where she went to meet Thanly. It was the place they had discovered as children during a game of 'hide me and seek you.' It was a place where she could be herself without the pressure of her responsibilities. As kin-folk of the chief, Jadara had a certain way that she was expected to behave, to conduct herself. This place gave her the chance to be free of those burdens. Here she honed her hunting and fighting skills with the reluctant help of her truest friend Thanly.

Thanly was skilled in all forms of 'male-mate' behaviours and was coerced into passing on these talents by one Jadara Greywater. One look from the chocolate pools of her eyes was enough to convince him. Enough to convince him to do just about anything she asked. Although in recent months he had started standing up to her a bit more. He started to agree with the folk of the hamlet about what 'she-mates' should, or more likely should not, be doing. Since this change in him, Jadara had been spending more and more time alone. Her skills were becoming a match for Thanly, and she secretly believed that this may have been the cause of his change in attitude.

On this day, in the time of awakening, there was more on her mind than Thanly. She sat half way up the old eark tree, on a branch that only she was able to reach.

'Unnatural.' That's what Thanly said about her ability to climb trees. She'd laughed then and taunted him from her vantage point on high. Now she knew though. Now her grandmother had explained it all. Tree-dweller was her heritage. She was of Air, not Water. Her mother was an Air princess who was hidden away for her own safety. Part of her felt it couldn't be true, yet it made so much sense.

The figure of her father, whom she could only recall meeting once, swam in front of her eyes. Now it all rested on her. She would leave the people who had become her family to find the people who were her kin-folk and needed her. If it hadn't been for her, her mother would have returned. She knew this with certainty. As her grandmother--no, aunt she corrected herself, still confused--had predicted, she would go when her father came. She would go and go willingly.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the deep timbre of a male voice.

"Now that is no place for a she-mate to be sat!" it called out brashly.

She leapt down and was caught in the strong, brown arms of Thanly. His blue eyes still twinkled with merriment whenever he teased her.

"If you could, you'd be up there too!" she challenged, her brown eyes already dancing with amber sparks at the thought of an ensuing dispute.

"Beast!" he growled low. She could hear and feel the rumble of his laughter as it made its way through his muscled chest to escape from his full lips. He went to cuff her but, as usual, she was too nimble for him and she danced out of reach with a giggle.

"Why so serious before?" he inquired, his eyes searching hers for the truth. He had known this slip of a thing for as long as he could remember and had become her self-appointed protector from the time she could walk.

That's about when she had started getting herself into situations that she needed protection from, he thought to himself. Like the day she had wandered into the bull enclosure. His breath quickened just with the recollection of the fear he'd experienced as a young nipper of ten, rushing in to pluck her out. Those brown eyes had won him over even then when she'd gazed adoringly up at him that day.

"Huh!" he mused out loud, doubting that display of adoration had lasted very much longer than a moment. The sole aim of Jadara's life seemed to consist of vexing him to the point of distraction. Yet those eyes still bewitched his very soul and, most nights, they were his last thought before passing to slumber.

There were many a maiden who would have happily tried to rid Thanly of his preoccupation with Jadara, but he seemed oblivious to their charms. Those charms became more evident at the dusk of each awakening when layers of clothing were shed and a certain feeling entered the air, bringing new matings both in the livestock and their human owners.

"Well?" she queried, hands on hips and foot tapping impatiently on the dusty ground. "Ask a girl a question then go off a-slumbering before you hear the answer, is it?" Jadara really was spoiling for a fight and Thanly shrugged in mock surrender.

"I really came here to talk... That is to ask... I mean..." he struggled now with the words that he had been rehearsing all day, for years really, come to that.

"I am glad you're here, Thanly," began Jadara almost at the same time. "It's my father," she continued, "wait until you hear this!"

Sensing that this was not to be his moment, after all, Thanly perched himself on a nearby stump and prepared for a tale that would alter everything. Alter his dreams and his hopes and open up a world that went beyond anything that this simple mountain dweller could have ever imagined.

Training Begins

In the silence that followed Jadara's revelation, the snap of a twig could be easily distinguished from the other sounds of the forest. Upon hearing it, Jadara reached to her side belt, drawing her sword bow. Thanly, always a match for her, instinctively reached for his weapon of choice and that of his water element heritage, a sickle sword. They both stood poised and ready for whatever might approach. Side by side, they stood ready to face the danger together. Their safe world now seemed an alarming place full of potential hazards.

In a whirl of colour and flesh, men like giants pushed through the undergrowth and out into the opening. Their tattooed skin and bare flesh struck terror into the hearts of the two young would-be warriors who faced them.

"Enough!" growled a voice that came from the lead figure. "Stand down!" he barked at Jadara and Thanly as they stood ready for combat.

Thanly lowered his weapon, in awe of the authority in the voice of this monstrous man. Jadara, however, had overcome her initial fear and was now filled with a rage that overcame any girlish fears she might have felt. If anything her fear had increased her anger which was now directed at one man, the man in front of her. A man who was not used to the look of hate that was now aimed in his direction.

"Jadara," hissed Thanly out of the corner of his mouth. "Stand down!"

"Stand down? Stand down?" she raged. "All these years without a word and now I am being attacked by my own father!"

A laugh that sounded like a distant rumble of thunder shook the air.

"Yes, she said you were fiery lass. Spirit like your mother she said. If I remember it right, girl, you were ready to attack us. Is this how you usually go about welcoming guests to your hamlet?"

By now rather a large crowd of warrior-like men had gathered around and were peering, with interest, at the girl in front of them who was talking to their king in a way that none of them would have dared. The girl glared back at them with eyes so like their own they forgot their manners and stared on.

"When you've all had a good look," spat the angry girl, twirling around sarcastically for effect.

"Jadara!" Thanly said, aghast at her spite. He might not have seen The Passers since he was a boy, but their reputation succeeded them. Father or not, there was a way to deal with these almost spiritual beings that did not have to involve angering them.

"At peace, lad," spoke the lead warrior, extending his hand for the customary palm touch greeting of the Water Folk. "Lambord is my given name. Lambord Redfear, warrior king of The Passers, and these are my men." He extended his hand out to indicate the gathered army behind him.

"Thanly," replied Thanly. "I am honoured to meet you." He nodded to include the assembled group. "I am... fr-friends with Jadara," he added with a burning hue colouring his cheeks.

A hue that did not miss Lambord's piercing gaze.

This better not be a complication, he thought to himself, angry at arriving past the onset of the awakening. This girl in front of him certainly possessed the ability to bewitch any man, and Lambord needed to be on his way without the added delay of a love-sick pup.

"Let's see what you two can do with those weapons that you still seem to be aiming at my men," challenged Lambord with a playful swish of his own long hook sword. A flash of metal revealed equally terrifying swords appearing in the hands of the tattooed warriors as they moved forward with menacing grace.

Sure of his talent in this area and his lithe advantage, Thanly thrust his arm forward as he dodged attack after attack from The Passers. Rage filled Jadara's heart as she heard the easy laughs of the men as they toyed with Thanly without breaking into a sweat. She leapt to his aid with a throaty cry and parried her sword bow with fury. It glanced off the arm of the nearest warrior, drawing a trail of blood, a deep crimson. Her lungs, filled with the scent of battle, felt as though they would burst as she made thrust after thrust at the endless stream of attackers. After the initial lucky hit, she failed to make the slightest dent in the defence of the skilled warriors and fell back towards the tree trunk panting. Thanly soon joined her and their eyes met with a rueful smile.

"Maybe, we've met our match today," he joked.

"It had to happen one day," she agreed, calmer now.

Lambord and his men looked on with admiration at these two young challengers.

"I think our quiet life may be over for a while," said the one they called Roughier, wrapping a piece of his tunic around his still-bleeding arm.

"Aye," agreed his friend, as he reattached his hook sword in its place on his leather strap. "You've got something there, old friend."

"How about some refreshment, sire?" said a younger-looking lad. "All this fighting has worked up a hunger in me for some of that meat that I smell cooking in the hamlet."

"Anything would work up a hunger in you, Adamen," jeered Lambord with a swing at the younger man's head. "Come on, let's eat!"

The men quickly dispersed, leaving Lambord looking solemnly at the child he'd sired yet knew nothing about. The responsibilities of The Passers meant that siring a child was an unusual event, not totally uncommon but unusual nevertheless. This woman-child that gazed back at him with tired yet determined eyes was unique. The child of a Passer and an Air Princess. A child that could unite the tribes of Fellnesia forever. That was up to him. He had to take the responsibility for this girl--for her future, her training and the ultimate battle for her birthright.

"On your way, boy." Lambord nodded towards Thanly. "You fought well, son, now go home where you are needed. Take a Primary Mate and forget all about this one here." He gestured towards Jadara with a dismissive wave. "She has a greater destiny. She leaves today. With me," he added firmly so there could be no mistake.

Thanly remained still. His face showed the sudden realisation that his friend and potential she-mate would be leaving. That one expression reflected his world as it seemed to crash around him. Leave? He'd heard what Jadara had said earlier, of course, but that seemed like just a story.

"Go, Thanly," said Jadara. "Go in peace. I will see you later," she whispered.

Thanly walked back towards the village, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Their hearts went out to him; Lambord, as he understood the depth of such feeling, and Jadara, as she felt her carefree, childlike days leave with his retreating figure.

History Lesson

"'Bout time I explained a few things, lass," began Lambord, his deep voice commanding attention. He closed the gap between himself and his daughter and gestured for her to sit down next to him on a protruding stump.

"You certainly have your mother's beauty," he said after a long pause, unable to conceal the emotion from his comment. "I loved her very much," Lambord said, with touching simplicity.

"And she you," consoled Jadara, patting the muscled arm with compassion.

"Aye, and she knew about responsibility too. She protected you and made sure you knew how to defend yourself. You don't think that young pup would be allowed within ten yards of you if he hadn't had a talent to offer, do you?"

"You mean, she knew? She knew that I came up here and fought and hunted?"

"Oh, yes! I expect so, lass. There was not much that got past your mother or your gran for that matter. That much I remember about her." His laugh rang out loudly, startling birds from the surrounding trees.

Jadara was more than a little put out by the fact that her secret place may not have been so secret after all. Put out that her mother might have known exactly what she had been doing up here. She smiled ruefully as she thought about all the trouble she could have saved herself in tales of how her gown had come to be torn or how the scratches had appeared on various parts of her anatomy.

"So," began Lambord, intruding on her musings. "I expect you have some questions for me but first, let me fill you in on some details and then we'll see where we are after that."

Jadara nodded her consent, unsure that she could take another dose of history but knowing that The Passer king would be in a hurry to get on his way.

"From the first day I met your mother, I knew that trouble would catch up with me sooner or later. She was the most stubborn, beautiful, compassionate and dutiful woman I ever met." His voice became distant, as if he were trying to catch hold of a familiar image. His eyes looked towards the sky as he cast his mind back to that first meeting, so many summers past.

"If not for that black-souled beast, Greenflack..." Lambord's eyes darkened to the deepest black and glinted like granite. "Your mother is...was the rightful heir to Jadehollow. You now are that heir, Jadara, but more, so much more. You are sired by me, so that gives you a heritage that none has ever shared. Passer and Air Princess in one. The potential of power is so great in you that your very existence is a threat to the fabric of Fellnesia. If news of your being ever spread beyond this hamlet, your life as you know it would end. You are no longer safe here. This haven that you have grown to love is in danger. You must ride with us. It is the only option. I am sorry."

Jadara was stunned but grateful for his honesty. "But what do I have to do?" she questioned. "How do I get back what is mine? How do I defeat this Greenflack?"

"For a start," boomed Lambord, leaping to his feet with feline grace, "there is no more 'I.' You are 'we' now. You are a Passer. True, you would be the first female we have had, and that will come with problems of its own, but we will face that when we have to. The men _will_ follow orders," he said with the finality of a man who believed sincerely in his own authority. "Now, get your things," he ordered, "and pack light. We've no room for she-mate nonsenses."

"Nonsenses?" Jadara could feel the heat of her rage spring up again, and she had neither the skill nor the inclination for diplomacy. "I am not just going to ride off with you and your band of savages! I have a grandmother to care for and duties to my kin."

"Pack!" barked Lambord, already striding towards the smell of his repast. A trail of men emerged from among the trees, following with rueful grins to each other at the retreating back of their king. Never had they heard him challenged by anyone, let alone this slip of a lass. Never since her mother, that was.

"This is shaping up to be one of our more interesting visits," noted Roughier.

"Mmm," mused Adamen, taking a long look towards the girl who had already caused too much distraction for his liking. There was something about that combination of dark curls and eyes that were far too deep for his comfort.

"No!" howled the older man, clutching his chest in mock torment. "The awakening has you _flammerised!_ Not her. Not if you value your future prospects as a male-mate."

Pushing and laughing, the men continued down to fill their bellies, leaving a quiet and thoughtful Jadara to reflect on what she had heard from her kin over the last few sun passings. It was a lot to take in. A lot to accept but accept it she must as her life would be taking her in a new direction before moon up today. It was a direction she must embrace for the sake of kin she did not know. The kin she did treasure would be left in the wake of her responsibility with no knowledge of her sacrifice. Lambord--she couldn't yet think of him as her father--had made it clear that her true heritage must remain a secret shared only by his trusted men and his sister, the woman she knew as Gran.

She needed to clear her head. She needed some time.

She ran. She ran as she'd never run before. A sense of pure freedom rushed through her body, as it always did when she sprinted. Today she valued it so much more. She ran on and on, her lungs bursting and protesting with pain. Still she ran.

At last, in a clearing overlooking the mountain lake she knew so well, she stopped. She allowed air to refill her lungs. She enjoyed the sweetness of the clear fresh air and the crispness of the cold. Her limbs ached with pain and pleasure, and the pounding of her heart banged like a drum in her ears.

"Fast," panted a voice next to her causing her to start like a dapple caught in a hunter's gaze.

"Wh-where... Who..." she began, her breath still catching up with the words she tried to form. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"Don't mind me," answered the stranger. "Let's just say I am taking in the fresh air!" He gave a short laugh. The laugh did not reach his eyes. They were fixed firmly on Jadara, taking in the details of her appearance.

"Dark eyes, for an Air Dweller," he commented. "If I didn't know better, I'd mistake you for a Passer," he sneered with a knowing smirk. "My, I have forgotten my manners. I go by Em. My given name is Emeraldon and you, I believe, are Jadara. I knew your mother," he added when her eyes widened in surprise at the recognition.

"You knew my mother?" Jadara was aghast at this stranger and how much he seemed to know of her sheltered life.

"A beauty," he stated simply. "She was a true princess. My condolences child, you must miss her."

"Bu-but how?" Jadara stammered. "I thought..." she stopped, instinctively distrustful of this stranger.

"They were fools to think they were not followed. I have been watching you with interest my dear. The arrival of Lambord causes me to think that I may have been correct in my assumptions. I represent an interested party. Interested in your future, that is."

Again, his smile caused revulsion in Jadara. She sensed danger and scanned the locality for means of an escape or attack.

"Oh, fear not," crowed Em. "I am not here to hurt you. I am preparing to leave myself. I have a report to deliver that will make me a wealthy man. I caution you though, girlie. One word of our meeting to The Passers and I could not guarantee the safety of, say, any accident befalling a certain grandmother whilst you are away." He leaned in close to Jadara's ear and added menacingly, "If you know what I mean."

"What?" she spun round, her hand reaching for her weapon, only to find an empty clearing.

The man had gone.

Jadara started a frantic search of the surrounding shrubbery, to no avail. She finally leant against a tree to collect her thoughts.

"It must be Greenflack," she concluded. "He knows about me and he has power beyond his own hamlet." The danger to her kin roused a fire in her that could only mean trouble. She decided that as soon as she got close to Jadehollow, she would leave her father and his men and face Greenflack herself. Maybe she could reason with him and save her mountain kin-folk. The only family she had ever known.

With a plan forming in her head, Jadara ran swiftly back, back to her destiny. A destiny she was determined to take control of.

Goodbyes to Some

The change in Jadara was noticed at once by both Lambord and Drew. They exchanged worried glances then bewildered shrugs. Oblivious to the attention, Jadara rushed through the hamlet to pack her few belongings, strapping her weapons firmly onto her travel belt. Her horse was saddled within minutes, and she began to pace restlessly at the start of the path between the grey huts.

"What do you suppose has come over her?" puzzled Drew, looking to her younger brother for answers.

"Search me," he replied.

He signalled to his men who groaned as they hauled themselves to their feet, still weary from the pace of the journey earlier that day. With the warm meat and cool ale in their bellies, they were just reaching the point where a doze in the sun would be a welcome friend indeed. However, one look at their king was enough to banish such luxuries from their minds as duty called again. They shared rueful glances as they returned to their mounts and swung their powerful bodies into their saddles.

Drew made her way over to her ward, concern etched in the lines of her face. Her eyes were alert to each expression that Jadara could not conceal from one so wise.

"Out with it!" she demanded. "You can't be leaving an old woman with a look like that on your face."

Jadara had no intention of sharing anything with the frail-looking woman whom she had come to love as a mother and friend. The harsh words of the stranger still rung in her ears.

"I will just miss you, Gran," she said at last. "It will all be different from today and I am not sure I am ready."

"No," persisted Drew. "There is more. I know you, child."

Jadara forced her face into a smile that reached her eyes. She added a wicked wink for effect and quipped, "Who will keep you out of trouble when I am gone?"

Unconvinced, Drew leaned in close and whispered, "He is a good man, Jadara. Allow him to be a good father too. Trust him. Trust him with all you hold dear and he can protect you. Lie and you put your safety at risk. Heed my words, girl. Heed them!"

Jadara shivered despite the warm air. She really was a witch, this grandmother of hers. How did she see so much? Jadara grasped Drew into her arms and held tight.

"I love you," they both said together.

"I _will_ be back," promised Jadara. With a graceful leap, she mounted her snowy mare. "Thanly?" she asked, looking around for her friend.

"Leave it, lass," Lambord instructed, grabbing hold of her reins and beginning to lead her away from the group. "Let the lad be."

With a swift move that took him unaware, Jadara snatched back her reins and rode off down the track. "Jadara!" she shouted back. "My name is Jadara!"

"There is a reason she-mates do not become Passers," growled the warrior king as he too took off down the track, determined that the young girl, daughter or not, should learn about respect. He missed the look of merriment that passed between his men and the old lady who waved them off.

"Good speed and healthy horses," she said smiling, voicing the common parting words of their region.

Dust flew up in clouds as The Passers left town. The people were as mystified with their departure as they were with their arrival. That they were taking Jadara too, something was amiss.

What next? they muttered to one another in awe.

In a few easy strides, Lambord's black stallion had caught up with the frail white mare that Jadara rode.

"Ease up on her!" he ordered, leaning over to grab the reins. He pulled the horse into a slow walk. "We have a distance to travel and she needs to be fit."

"I can manage my own horse," Jadara spat. Her cheeks were smudged with a combination of tears and dust.

Lambord paused and bit back his next remark. The sight of the girl this upset troubled him. He had thought her strong but now, it seemed, he'd been wrong. Something filled him with unease, a position he hated to be in since danger inevitably followed.

"What troubles you?" he asked kindly.

"You mean, apart from being ripped from everything I hold dear," Jadara retorted, raging that he'd seen her so vulnerable.

"Don't fight me, girl," warned Lambord with such authority that Jadara looked at him with uncharacteristic meekness. "I am the king of these men and you will show me respect. I cannot have anyone in my ranks challenging me. It is not the way things are done. We work as a team. A team with one leader. Obey me or you put our safety at risk. This is not some adventure that you are on. This is real. Every day we come face to face with death. It is the way of The Passers. A way you will learn. So watch, learn and control that temper of yours," he finished. With a flick of his reins, he drove his horse towards the valley and away from the mountain path.

Jadara had never been out this way before, and she marvelled at the scenery of wide open plains. In the distance, she could make out a vast forest; trees that were so tall they could be seen many leagues away. She turned to look back at her mountain home, the small dwelling contrasting white against the green leaves of the Awakening. There she'd spent time she loved, filled with mating rituals and births, new life. She already ached for those she held dear. She wondered what her father had said to Thanly to make him stay away from her farewell.

Jadara glanced at the strong muscled back of her father riding ahead. So many questions still plagued her yet she found herself unable to voice them. A friendly voice beside her broke through her thoughts.

"A man not to be crossed," it told her. "Daughter or not," he added, his tone heavy with mirth.

"Adamen, isn't it?" asked Jadara, with the first genuine smile since leaving her home.

He laughed and nodded, feeling ridiculous at the warmth that spread through his insides at the thought that she had not only noticed him but remembered his name.

"At your service," he grinned, tipping a mock salute with his hand.

"You seem... er... different to the rest," she said, trying not to offend his pride or draw attention to any lack of status within the group. "You are less marked," she concluded, blushing crimson as he caught her staring at his scantily clad torso.

Adamen's grin widened considerably as he basked in her shy discomfort. He was charmed by her innocence, usually attracting the company of much more experienced women on his nightly stopovers.

After a prolonged pause, he replied cheekily, "Maybe mine are less obvious, is all."

His roar of laughter echoed in her ears as she spurred her horse forward to avoid any further embarrassment. This caused much mirth from the men who could only guess at the conversation by the loud guffaw from Adamen and the scarlet face of their leader's kin.

* * * *

Not as amused as his men, Lambord considered the conversation that was occurring behind him. He turned his thoughts to the practicalities of having a she-mate along. He knew fully the needs and desires of his men and the price of a nomadic life. His daughter would be safe, he was sure, but the thoughts and fantasies of his men were something that he had no control over. That young pup, Adamen, was certainly a complication that he had not considered, and he cursed his own stupidity. He knew exactly what that young mind was imagining. His own thoughts of Jadara's mother had been very much the same, so many moons ago. Realistic and protective, he made his way back to confront the boy.

"Like what you see, do you?" Lambord said menacingly.

"She is most impressive," replied Adamen with arrogance. He understood the respect that Lambord was due, but he had the blind courage of youth.

"Son," continued Lambord, "I have a duty to the kin-folk of Jadehollow to protect their rightful queen and deliver her to her destiny. As one of us, you too share that responsibility. You swore an oath when you came to us, cast out from your own kin. We took you in, and now I order you, as your Lord, to see the female as one of us, as a sister. You must swear to protect her and escort her to her rightful place, training her in the skills necessary to defend her throne and maintain the peace of her kin-folk. Do you accept this?"

Adamen sat startled at the tirade from his king. He was a man who was usually as scarce with his words as he was with his praise.

"I do," Adamen replied simply.

Up ahead, Jadara was enjoying the thrill of riding through the countryside. She was skilled in horsemanship and rode as well as any man in her hamlet.

"You ride well," noted Roughier, as he trotted to match her pace.

"Thank you." Jadara inclined her head in acknowledgement of his praise. "How is your arm?" she asked, with a further tilt of her head. "I am sor--" she started to say.

"No!" barked Roughier, cutting off her apology. "A warrior should never have to say sorry for a fair strike. I am honoured to be marked by a Passer princess. I am your servant." Roughier tried to add the flourish of a bow but came close to unseating himself in the process.

Jadara laughed in spite of herself and was met with one in return from the scarred face of the older Passer.

"Now that is more like it," he chuckled. "Old Roughier can still charm a she-mate to joy."

"He certainly can." Jadara was enjoying the banter as they approached a sheltered copse.

"Horses rest!" shouted a voice from the back of the rank and a circle of men and animals was made before dismounting began. A young lad of about twelve summers took Jadara's horse towards a cool stream for a drink. Jadara could feel the dryness in her own throat, and she reached for the skin she had tucked into her waistband. She threw her head back, took a long gulp of the clear mountain water and tasted home.

Almost on cue, she heard a crack behind her. Afraid that the raven-haired stranger had followed her here, she turned, drawing her sword bow with a snarl. From the dense woods emerged Adamen holding a most disgruntled looking Thanly by his shoulder. Adamen's dark eyes were furious, and a spark of something else gave him the strength to hold the burly lad imprisoned.

"Thanly!" Jadara cried. "Put him down. It's Thanly!" she pleaded.

Lambord was on the scene within seconds and wrenched the youth from Adamen's powerful grasp.

"You are either very brave or very foolish," he hissed as he marched Thanly to a nearby tree and, without breaking his grasp, secured him to the trunk.

"I am Jadara's protector," shouted Thanly. "I will not let her be lead into the hands of danger. Passers or not, she is safer with me."

"Fine words, lad," mocked Adamen with a sneer. "Let's see you protect her now." He drew out his long hook sword and held it under Thanly's neck.

Jadara was ready in a second, her weapon unsheathed. She duly held it under the neck of the obnoxious brute that was manhandling her one and only friend.

"Stand down!" ordered Lambord.

Reluctantly, Adamen and Jadara re-sheathed their weapons, glaring angrily at one another. Adamen gave a mocking laugh.

"Protector! Who protects who?" he mumbled as he strode off into the trees, swinging angrily at the branches that dared to get in his way. A mixture of jealous rage and frustration at his lack of self-control was evident in each strike.

Jadara felt her body's exhaustion at the events of the day. Her senses felt sluggish, and her body swayed. A moment later, her world went black.

Emeraldon

Emeraldon had enjoyed the carnal relief that had been offered by the stable hand, eager to gain a silver coin. He often wondered why they always approached him with their lurid offers. Was it a look in his eye or an unspoken understanding? It mattered not. It only served to aid his slumber when travelling. Rather pleased with his day's work and finally settled on a soft bed in a travellers hut, Emeraldon rested.

He had trailed The Passers with the youth, constantly feeding him threats about what Greenflack would do to his family should he fail to get Jadara to reveal The Passers' plans. Emeraldon enjoyed watching people under pressure. He thrived on manipulation, suggestion and dominance. When the time had seemed right, he had urged Thanly forward to reveal his presence and offer his service as a protector to Jadara. He rested now, knowing that he would have to stay alert in the next few suns in order to remain concealed from The Passers.

He had been a sickly boy, growing up under the constant threat of the Fire Mountains of Dargoon. He lived on the edge of the Earth territory, yet was of Air. His kin-folk were small and unskilled, relying on raiding parties that scoured the surrounding lands for food and materials. His sire had passed when he was a babe and he had been raised by a group of aunts and cousins who cared for the small boy and his mother. She had lost coherence since the passing of her Primary Mate so was prone to wandering and ramblings around the small hamlet. For this, his tree dwelling was avoided by most and his peers regarded him with a mixture of fear and contempt. Having no male to teach him a trade, Emeraldon got by on his wits. He soon learned that his quick thinking could separate a man from his wares faster than a sword. He mastered coin tricks and sleight of hand that left his victims bewildered.

His hatred of The Passers had begun when he learned that they had not considered his father worthy of a ceremonial passing. This decision had left his family as outcasts and added to the contempt with which they were regarded. Emeraldon's hatred festered throughout his youth and, although he had never seen them in his dwelling, he knew that he would face them one day. One day they would atone for his father's passing. When the opportunity to join a travelling stranger's quest to claim his birthright and battle a hamlet far superior to any he knew, Emeraldon willingly consented.

He joined Greenflack and proved invaluable to the recruitment process. Mercenaries with no kin to support were always ripe for the picking. With his conjuring illusions, Emeraldon, known as Em, would use deception to part such men with their purse. Once in debt to him, they would be forced to serve in their growing militia. Desperate men, whose wealth had been squandered, proved irresistible playthings for Em's deranged mind. He mastered the art of mind control, leaving once mighty warriors as gibbering wrecks fit for nothing but ridicule in the hamlets that they passed through. Once the defeat of Jadehollow was complete, Em served his Lord by inspiring loyalty in the kin-folk who dwelt there. His methods were never questioned, although the minds of some residents never quite functioned again. A few examples of his persuasion soon brought the unruly opposition under control.

Observing the malice in his recruit, Greenflack enlisted Em to aid him in a personal mission. Greenflack sought the total annihilation of the creature of legend known as The Dolchie. They were said to have once controlled the fate of Fellnesia, travelling in threes to pass judgement on kin-folk who denied their destiny. The Dolchie could foretell the future by glimpsing words from the timeline of individuals whose destiny could affect Fellnesia. By prophecy, they would ensure that peace was maintained. The right word to the right individuals was usually sufficient, as their reputation caused most to fear them.

Greenflack had denied his destiny. He pursued a path that he had been warned to avoid. Worse still, he had destroyed the very mouth that foretold his fate. He now raged against the creatures that moulded and guided the passing of time. He wanted that control. He aimed to kill The Dolchie and rule by his own will. Em was selected to search out and bring The Dolchie to judgement, judgement at the self-appointed hands of Greenflack.

Finding them had been the easy part. He had followed the tales, listened at firesides and, when necessary, initiated a quiet talk with the passing of a coin. The Dolchie had aged. They no longer travelled the lands, rather, lived out a pitiful existence cowering in the huts of loyal kin-folk.

Em put together a small band of debtors, eager to repay their due. A late night raid or two with the stealth of thieves was all it took. They made short work of the undertaking.

But Em refused to end a life. It was one thing to use his cunning to collect these gruesome trophies, but another to be responsible for the death of such a timeless creature. Instead, he transported them on a waiting wagon to the abandoned Earth Fortress of Zergain, where an impatient Greenflack awaited.

Em shuddered as he recalled the day he had finally arrived at the fortress with The Dolchie. He watched in horror as Greenflack systematically tortured then slaughtered them, then continued to observe as swirling snakes of silver curled around his arms and onto his body, finally coming to rest in twisted patterns that adorned his flesh. The slaughter had been at the bare hands of Greenflack but not before he had had his fill of acts of wanton degradation and abuse. Physical contact was a necessity it seemed, to absorb the essence of creatures. The cry of horror and then raw power that emitted from Greenflack at the passings was one that Em would long remember in his darkest dreams. Greenflack had torn the secrets of passing from the freegan beasts. Their majestic undisturbed existence in the Fire Hills of Dargoon had been defiled by Greenflack's attack and subsequent domination of the creatures. He was now filled with the ferocity to conquer the whole of Fellnesia, halted only by the continuing existence of the Passer bastard.

Em reflected on his latest charge, whilst making ready to depart the traveller's lodge. He had been eager to depart the fortress, disturbed by the change in his master since the passing of The Dolchie. His trip to Turonia had come not a moment too soon and he smiled at the approach of the final battle that was to come. Regardless of the outcome, Em was always able to preserve his own existence. It was a talent that had served him well thus far.

Training

A new day had dawned before Jadara opened her eyes to the world again. She awoke to the sweet smell of roasting meat and the hum of voices. At once, a leaf piled high with fragrant slices of cooked harie was placed beside her. She looked up, wanting to know who to thank for the fast-breaker meal and saw the wizened face of Roughier grinning back at her.

"You gave us quite a scare," he said. "Eat up and get your strength back. Our hunters caught the biggest harie in the forest for your pleasure."

Smiling, Jadara thanked him and ate hungrily. She looked up from the feast to find several pairs of warm brown eyes staring back at her.

"I wasn't the only one worried," laughed Roughier.

"Yes, but you were the only one who stayed up all night to guard her," boomed Lambord as he approached the gathering. "A she-mate with so many willing protectors," he marvelled. "Who has ever seen the like of it? This man caught your faint and watched you like a hawk to the detriment of his own sleep."

Lambord sat down next to Jadara and added in a quieter tone, "How are you faring?"

"Thanly?" Jadara replied. "What happened to Thanly?"

"It seems we have a new recruit," Lambord chuckled, "Another protector to add to your list, princess. Although, I have yet to determine if he is a love-struck fool or a potential warrior. Time will tell. I have left him on horse duty until I am convinced of his use to us. He seems to have a way with horses so he may be an asset after all."

"Huh!" growled a voice from outside the group. Adamen was unconvinced of the worth of this new mouth he had to hunt for.

"Thank you," said Jadara simply, with a bow of her head. Her curls tumbled around her face and her big eyes looked up through them with gratitude.

Adamen noticed the look with a sharp intake of breath. This witch was really getting under his skin and it was a feeling that he was not happy about. Passers did not dally with such things as emotions. It clouded their senses and made them vulnerable. He strode off to clear his head. A hunt would do it. They needed food for the journey, and this thicket was abundant in its wildlife. Soon the thrill of the chase would erase any thoughts of the she-mate and her wide-eyed beauty.

* * * *

Nearby, a lone figure began to saddle up the horses. A thoughtful look was etched on his brow as he tightened the reins and soothed the weary mounts. He would have to watch out for Adamen, he could tell. It had been hard enough to convince the warrior king of his intentions, but this broad-shouldered fellow seemed to despise the mere sight of him. He knew why, of course. He had heard the talk around the camp of Jadara's rare beauty, out of earshot of her father, he had noticed. Who would dare cross the Passer king?

"Who indeed," smirked Thanly to himself as he busied himself again with the animals.

"Share the joke," said a quiet voice from above him.

"Now there's only one she-mate insane enough to be up there!" laughed Thanly as he quickly looked from branch to branch up in the eark trees that surrounded him.

"Too late to find me," Jadara teased as she landed nimbly on the back of her horse and slid to the ground next to him. She looked up at him with a twinkle in her deep brown eyes. "Couldn't bear to let me have all the fun, eh?"

"Hey! We're partners," he retorted sharply. "Where you go, I follow. Hasn't it always been that way?"

"You came after me," Jadara said with awe. "What about your home, the farm, your family?"

"They'll still be there when I return, a hero," Thanly puffed out his chest in mock bravado. "I thought that you could use a friend amongst all these warriors."

"Yes!" Jadara agreed at once. She leant forward and flung her arms around him. "Yes!" she laughed and danced in a circle, her arms ending up in a tangle around his neck.

"Be still, she-mate," he growled. "You'll spook the horses."

As she turned back towards the camp, a slow smile spread across his lips. A smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

"A friend is what you will need," he added.

* * * *

Back at the circle of bedding, men had begun to spar. One on one and two on two, they fought. Blows were struck and dodged. Grunts and curses filled the air.

"Grab your weapon, girl," ordered Lambord. "We train, then we leave."

Not needing to be told twice, Jadara reached into her bedroll and pulled out her sword bow in a smooth stroke. She turned to confront her first opponent and found herself face-to-face with Roughier.

"Time to find out if your first blood was just luck, princess," he challenged with a bow.

"Honoured to, warrior," she retaliated with spirit.

Blow after blow they dodged, moving in a slow circle around the camp. Her speed matched his skill, and they fought with style and grace. Many groups paused to watch this she-mate fight. Most were impressed despite themselves, but some were still appalled by the new addition to their group.

With sweat glistening on his brow and his breath coming in short gasps, Roughier held his hands up in surrender.

"You are learning fast," he praised, "and I am too old to challenge you further. Who will take my place?" He scanned the assembled group for relief.

"Willingly, old timer!" said a voice from the edge of the wood.

Adamen appeared with the carcass of a freshly slain dapple draped over his shoulder. Its antlers had been sliced through, and he carried them in his left hand, as was the custom for the killing of such a beast. Even animals had the right to a passing, and there were ways to respect the order of life. Removing the maleness of the creature ensured its passage to spirituality. Slinging the body of the creature to a nearby flat stone, Adamen withdrew his cleaned weapon and took up a stance worthy of his experience. He flashed Jadara a fearsome grin.

"Princess." He acknowledged her with a quick bow. "Shall we?"

"Warrior." She inclined her head whilst keeping her eyes on his and backing a safe distance away. Her pulse throbbed in her neck at the closeness of his raw maleness. He was obviously fresh from a hunt, and this made him dangerously tense and alert.

Adamen sniffed the air, catching her scent on the soft breeze. He was a skilled hunter and could read the instincts of animals intuitively. His Earth upbringing, close to the Fire Hills of Dargoon, served him well as a Passer. He had been forced to survive a harsh world since birth, and only the fittest made it this far with Lambord. Adamen's sire and older siblings, all boys, had trained him well. Nothing could distract his focus in a fight.

Nothing until now. The fresh smell of apple blossom on the wind caught him off guard. For a split second, his thoughts paused on how that scent would taste. That was enough for Jadara to seize her chance. A sharp pain coursed through his thigh. Amid hoots of laughter and taunts from his peers, Adamen saw the retreating blade of a sword bow. Crimson blood seeped from his wound and trickled thickly down towards his knee.

With a growl equal to that of a freegan, Adamen pounced, brandishing his hook sword over his head. Jadara was quick and dodged several potentially fatal blows before she felt a stinging in her shoulder. Lambord had seen enough. He stepped forward and held his hand between the two.

"Peace!" he ordered. "Blood for blood and now rest." He shot Adamen a warning glare just to ensure the younger man's compliance.

Adamen nodded and offered his hand to Jadara. She extended hers then recoiled quickly as she felt the warm pulse that Adamen's touch stirred within her. It spread like liquid through her body and brought an instant blush to her cheeks.

Arrogant in his victory, Adamen's smile widened at the response he had stimulated in Jadara. His own body hardened automatically at the attraction he felt coupled with the adrenalin of the recent combat.

Jadara looked away, furious with her body for betraying her in front of this warrior. She stormed off into the woods with Lambord's voice behind her saying, "We leave as soon as we mount up."

Jadara walked until she reached the babbling stream and stood for a moment, allowing the rhythmic sounds to sooth her temper. She was unaccustomed to the feelings that betrayed her when Adamen was nearby. Thanly, her truest friend, deserved her loyalty and if anyone was to claim her as a Primary Mate, shouldn't it be him?

As if to taunt her further, her skin began to prickle, and her heart rate increased as she heard footsteps behind her.

"A lucky strike," she said, not turning her head for fear of the troublesome blush reappearing.

"I'm flattered you knew it was me," teased Adamen, crouching down to the stream with a white cloth in his hands. She watched as he soaked it through then squeezed it out, folding it over to make a pad. She gasped as he stood up, towering over her, and applied the pad to her shoulder.

He mistook her gasp for pain and had the grace to look sympathetic. "Does it hurt?" he asked gently.

"N-no. The water is just cold," she said, the first thing she could think of to cover her true emotion.

"So brave," he crooned, rubbing the cloth seductively over her shoulder and across her neck.

His lips were so close to her ear that the words made their own light caress across her cheek. He moved in closer and she turned her head towards his. Her lips parted in response to his closeness and a tiny sigh escaped her full lips.

Adamen could fight it no longer. He leaned in to the soft lips before him and kissed them with a gentle possession.

It was hard to describe who was more shocked at Jadara's passionate response. She returned his kiss with fervour, moving her lips in response to his. His kiss deepened, and she matched his intensity. Her body pressed into his hard chest and a soft moan escaped her.

"Damn!" cursed Adamen, pulling away and stepping back, raking his hand through his hair.

* * * *

Jadara was bereft. She looked up into his darkened eyes, confused, aroused and uncertain. For the second time that day, she left. She marched back to where the warriors were preparing to depart and leapt onto her horse.

_How dare he!_ she fumed to herself. How dare he kiss her like that then curse her embrace? Wasn't drawing blood enough revenge for her lucky strike to his leg?

She drove her heels into the unsuspecting sides of her mount and rode to the front of the group. She came up alongside Thanly and matched his pace.

"Jadara?"

"Just ride!" she snapped. Then, softening, she added, "Let's just ride, Thanly. Like the old days, eh?"

"Like the old days," he echoed and leaned over to rub her thigh.

Behind them rode Adamen, who did not miss the companionable gesture that had just transpired.

"Damn!" he cursed again to no one in particular.

The Hamlet of Verdalia

For a few days, The Passers fell into the easy pattern that they had maintained for generations. They rode, hunted, trained, slept, then rode again. Very rarely did they come across hamlets and, when they did, they chose to restock and ride on. Questions about the presence of a she-mate among them were better avoided. Suspicion was easily aroused during such troubled times.

Jadara had so far managed to avoid any contact with Adamen, contenting herself to shadow Thanly and train with her father and Roughier. Her skills were improving, and she was gradually learning more about The Passers and their role in the very fabric of Fellnesia. Roughier was a thorough tutor and an enthusiastic storyteller. He had developed quite a soft spot for the young she-mate and his standing in the group was raised by her interest in him as her guide.

Adamen, frustrated with how things had been left by the stream, busied himself with wild hunts and extensive training. Many men were left cut and bleeding as he worked out his tension in battle scenarios. Nothing could distract him for long, though, as the constant presence of Jadara in the group was a daily reminder of his lack of discipline.

He had worked so hard to prove himself to Lambord coming, as he did, from a hamlet that had never had a successful entry to the brotherhood of The Passers. Adamen had wanted to join them ever since he'd seen them ride into his home as a boy. Their markings and strength fascinated him. His spirit, even as a youngster, had brought him to the attention of their king.

The Passers had come to ease his grandfather into spirituality. Braber, the sire of his sire, had led the kin-folk for some fifty summers when his time came to pass. The hamlet mourned their leader, and The Passers arrived to return him to Earth. During the first feast of The Passing, when the she-mates danced the 'Leaving of the Soul' ritual, a fire freegan from the nearby hills had swooped the hamlet. It was a fairly regular occurrence, which usually resulted in the loss of some livestock but on this occasion the large beacons that had been lit for the ritual enraged the beast. It began its decent with a wild cry and caused panic among the gathered ensemble.

At ten summers, Adamen had crept out to witness the dance, fascinated by the fires and movements of the she-mates. He had seen the freegan attack and, in the ensuing chaos, had observed a young maiden who had been grounded by the strike. Her leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and she was struggling to flee the scene. Adamen, with no thought for his own safety, raced to the girl and dragged her to a sheltered spot. There he stayed with her until the onslaught was over. He was found by Lambord and hailed a hero. The praise he garnered from the warriors that day surpassed the taunts of older brothers and the expectations of an authoritarian father, forced into the role of kin-folk chief. His mind was set from then on that a Passer he would be. The reward for this ambition came the day his father passed, and he was taken in by the nomadic order when they left his hamlet.

But now he was jeopardising his future by allowing his desire to rule over his sense. These were not the actions of a Passer. Yet each time he caught Jadara looking towards him with a mixture of hurt and anger in her eyes, his resolve to avoid her weakened. Maybe he could just explain, get her alone and... No! He cursed his impure thoughts and drove his unfortunate horse towards a new hunt.

Never had The Passers eaten so richly!

Carelessly thrashing through the bushes, Adamen cursed as he came into a clearing upon a well-used track leading to a small cluster of huts at the edge of a vast lake. He was ruing his error when a strong hand clamped over his mouth and pulled him back into the thicket.

"What are you thinking, lad?" hissed the voice of his king. His breath rushed unpleasantly into Adamen's ear as he was reprimanded. "I could hear you coming a league away. What hunt would succeed with such an onslaught of noise?"

"I-I..." stammered Adamen, embarrassed at being found making such a blunder by this mighty warrior king.

"Think next time," soothed Lambord, as if sensing the unease in his companion. "Look!" he gestured his free hand towards the hamlet nestling on the banks of the shining silver lake. "What do you make of it?"

"Water," replied Adamen simply. "Water kin. But a long way from their usual dwelling."

"Not a place that I have ever encountered," said Lambord, finally letting go of the younger man's neck.

In an unspoken agreement, they both melted into the undergrowth and back to the camp. With an insight born of serving many seasons as one entity, the group were on their feet with just a glance at the returning duo. Horses were mounted and whispered conversations transpired. It was soon agreed that the party would ride into the harmless looking hamlet and seek supplies. Word may have reached the kin-folk via the trading routes on the water about Greenflack and his activities in the area.

Adamen, ignoring the pained look in the eyes of Jadara, flanked her side. He watched all sides closely for signs of attack. Ever loyal, Roughier took up the other side and Thanly rode behind, vainly attempting to break through the warriors' guard. Adamen grinned at the sport of keeping the lad in his place and his spirits lifted. He imagined a warm bed for the night and some mead in his flask. His daydream was interrupted by a feeling of being observed. His hand reached for his hook sword, and he nodded toward Roughier as he drew the full length of his weapon from its belt.

In a flash, all the bushes around them came to life. Fearsome faces emerged from the greenery and surrounded the warriors. Undeterred and not without enjoyment, The Passers drove their horses toward the figures with hook swords brandished through the air. A primeval cry emerged from all around her as the unsuspecting attackers turned towards their hamlet and fled. Hoots and jeers accompanied the retreat, and The Passers rode on towards the first hut, fashioned from the reeds that grew abundantly around the lake. A tall, gaunt man emerged and held his palms up in a gesture of peace.

Lambord called for his men to halt and dismounted to greet the lofty stranger. Their palms touched, and they exchanged names with a formal bow. With a loud roar, Lambord grabbed the kin-chief and swung him up into the air.

"Kindert!" he exclaimed. "It can't be you! Not after all these years!"

"It really is me," gasped Kindert as the breath left his body. "Put me down, young pup!"

He turned to the warriors with what remained of his dignity.

"Welcome to Verdalia," he greeted them with a respectful bow. "It is an honour that my kin-folk have dreamed of, to have The Passers in our midst. Please, enter our humble hamlet and rest and revive your travel-weary souls."

With those kind words, he gestured his hand towards the hamlet's centre in an invitation to proceed.

The warriors did not need to be asked twice. They proceeded towards the homely smell of roasting meat and the promise of mead.

Only Jadara hung back, leading her horse towards the stable block. She watched as her father entered the hut, already deep in conversation with Kindert. Up ahead the men sat around the central fire. They had wasted no time in flirting with the willing maidens and tearing large strips off the roasting beast. Jadara noticed that Adamen was receiving a great deal of attention from the she-mates, and she tried to stop the rising fury that the scene evoked in her.

"Are you going to stand there all day or give me a hand," said a voice close to her ear.

"Thanly!" she started. "I was just coming to help you. What can I do?"

"If your princess's hands can bear it," he teased, "unhinge the saddle strap and rub their backs down with rag strips."

Not in the mood to react to his mocking, she did as he'd asked, and soon they were working companionably side by side. The horses made soft whinnying sounds as their tired muscles were soothed by the cool cloths.

"Jadara?" began Thanly, breaking the silence between them.

"Mmm?"

"Where are we? Where are we headed? Exactly what is the plan?"

For once she was at a loss for words. Something stopped her revealing her earlier encounter with the raven-haired Air dweller. She kept her own plan to herself.

Anyway, she reasoned to herself, it is not so much a plan as an idea, at this stage.

"I know not," she said. "Like you, I am in the hands of The Passer king."

"Let's leave," urged Thanly, moving closer to Jadara and grabbing her arms tightly. "Slip away together. Go back to Turonia. Set up house and be Primary Mates. You and me. Let's forget this world of danger and war, Jadara. Shall we?"

"What, and miss this tender roasted dapple meal?" drawled a voice from the doorway.

Adamen stood there leaning on the frame, his languid body language hardly disguising the fury in his eyes. Jadara pulled away from Thanly's grasp, colour flooding her cheeks. She ran from the stable and straight into Lambord. Not looking to see who had pursued her, she followed him into Kindert's hut. Her heart hammered in her chest as she thought of the two men she had left--Thanly, her dearest friend whom she had grown up with, and the Passer, who caused her body to betray her in such a delightful way.

The darkness of the hut bewildered her at first, as dark shapes loomed at the edges of a small room that housed a glowing fire in its centre. A dusty floor and a small table completed the meagre space.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, Jadara noticed a stooped ashen figure sitting in the corner of the room, chanting and rocking back and forth. The creature had skin that appeared soft but scaly and it gleamed silver in the firelight that both lit and heated the room. The heat was intense and yet the living thing shivered, almost rippling in the amber glow. Jadara moved towards the creature, instinctively reaching out to give comfort. A hand prevented her action, and Kindert's eyes locked on hers.

"Do not approach!" he warned. "The Dolchies are a rare breed. They cannot tolerate human touch. Your act of kindness could mortally wound her."

Jadara recoiled in horror at the thought that she could have caused harm to this poor mite. She stared forward, unsure whether to smile or look away.

"Child," rasped a voice barely more than a whisper. "Child, come close and hear your true path. You are a child of two worlds and for this reason you will be hunted by those who wish you harm."

"Greenflack." Jadara's lips released his name unwittingly.

"Ha!" cackled the eerie voice. "Greenflack is the known assassin. Watch for the assassin from within for he is the force that blocks your destiny. He will stand for you and against you and his will shall crumble like the ashes of a fire. Beware the fiery call of the freegan. BEWARE!" The effort of the last word caused the Dolchie to slump over and close its scaly eyes.

Assassin from within? Freegan? Jadara could not take it all in and looked to her sire for support.

Beside her, Lambord raged inwardly at the thought of a betrayal from his men. The Passers had a code, and none had ever broken that sacred vow. None until he had taken it upon his himself to rescue this cursed maiden, he thought. Only the power of love could cause a Passer to stray from his life path. But such dalliances were often short lived. He knew of this only too well.

A glance towards Jadara, as she tried to come to terms with the recent revelation, brought him back to the moment, and he reached to enfold her in his strong embrace.

"I'll care for you, Jadara," he vowed with passion. "Any betrayer will have to get through me first."

Jadara allowed herself to be lowered into a chair, listening as Lambord and Kindert made plans for the next leg of their journey. Their voices dulled to a murmur as her eyes betrayed her and closed in a sleep filled with dreams of fire breathers and rasping voices.

Progress Report

Steely green eyes flecked with amber shards observed the progress of the raven-haired messenger as he crossed the courtyard of the crumbling ruin. Greenflack had been expecting Em for some weeks now and he was not a man who liked to be kept waiting. He maintained his stance at the top of the stairway, hands on hips in a gesture of masculine dominance.

"Well," he drawled with a lazy demeanour.

Em was not fooled for an instant. He had survived this long by knowing the moods of his master and he could feel the tension emanating from his every pore. Em was equally frustrated. He had been surprised by the early arrival of The Passers into Turonia. He knew it had only been a matter of time but hoped to have exerted a greater influence over the boy before the warriors arrived. He had played on the feelings the young pup had for the Air wench and was enjoying his manipulation of this youthful infatuation. Thanly was a puppet in his game and was proving to be a useful source of information, one that he was uneasy to leave whilst he made his report to Greenflack.

Bending in an extravagant bow, Em lowered his gaze in deference to his king.

"My Lord," he grovelled. "I have mourned the days that I have not been inspired by your presence."

"You may rise," said Greenflack, his chest puffed with self-importance at the compliment.

Em struggled to conceal a smile as he congratulated himself at his own cunning when playing his master.

"What news do you bring?" queried Greenflack, motioning Em to follow him into the makeshift dwelling.

Em proceeded behind his king, noticing the lavish decor that the tumbled down building had been adorned with. A girl, young enough to have barely bled, cowered in the corner, chained to a post with heavy links.

"The kin of a man who opposed me." He gestured with a dismissive wave as he saw Em's eyes linger on the child. "He opposes me no more but she serves to remind me of my enemies and my daily struggle to bring harmony to this dysfunctional land." A short humourless laugh accompanied his words. "Not my taste but you are welcome to her."

Em's stomach churned in disgust but his face remained an impassive mask. "Maybe once I have given my report, sire."

A buxom servant sauntered in with a jug of mead, spilling some as she swayed provocatively towards the pair. Greenflack's eyes feasted greedily upon her protruding bosom.

"Now that is a mate," he remarked seedily. He reached forward, ostensibly to grasp the jug and instead ripped the blouse she wore, exposing her creamy flesh. Large breasts tumbled from their confines and a throaty chuckle escaped the maid's wanton lips.

"One each, my Lord," she offered the men, shaking her shoulders to allow her heavy mounds to sway to and fro.

Greenflack grasped the weighty flesh and noisily suckled the rosy peak. Em shuddered and he looked away, the sound of the intimate scene ringing in his ears.

"Await me in my chamber," ordered Greenflack with a playful slap on her rear. Her breasts still swinging free, the wanton woman sauntered from the room.

"Now," said Greenflack, regaining his regal demeanour. "I had better like the news you bring or my post will be host to two enemies."

Em regaled Greenflack with news of Jadara and her flight from the safety of Turonia. He told of The Passers and their claim to her and of the boy who was prepared to betray for love. Em gave details of their route and their stopover in the hamlet of Verdalia.

"Burn it!" ordered Greenflack at the mention of the safe haven for the band of warriors. He called out to a guard who marked the entrance.

"Send word to the freegan," he commanded. "They will burn Verdalia."

The liveried man departed at once, a look of fear etched on his face. The freegan were being held in the dungeons of the ruin and their haunting cries struck fear into the hearts of all but Greenflack. He seemed to delight in their pain and the power that he drained from them.

Minutes later, a dark shadow fell across the room as a freegan rose from the damp depths of the room below the ground. A piercing cry echoed around the ruins as the beast rose up to do its master's bidding.

"Now, what news of The Passer's bastard," he spat.

"My source has been a valuable asset," Em proudly began. "It seems that the princess has encountered a Dolchie." Em knew of the Dolchie and how they were the only beings that struck fear into the black heart of his Lord. Greenflack paled and reached out to steady himself on a chair.

"I have wiped out the Dolchie," he whispered. "These past seasons, have I not eradicated those half-lives from my land?"

As he spoke, he glanced down at the silver lines that etched his arms like veins of liquid mercury. Their swirling patterns disappeared up into his tunic where they danced mockingly across his entire chest.

"The Dolchie are no more," he said with a puzzled tone.

"All but one, it would seem, my Lord," said Em, enjoying the discomfort of the man before him. "They warned the girl of the freegan and of a betrayer. A betrayer within."

"Damn their interference," raged Greenflack, pacing the room with impatient strides. "How long must I suffer their scorn?"

"If I may continue," Em said boldly. "I must make haste to return. I fear that Thanly may be weakening in his resolve and we need one last piece of intelligence. The girl has changed her loyalties. She will awaken but not by Thanly's touch. A Passer known as Adamen claims her attention. He rides with them from Holesbane."

"Burn it!" cried Greenflack. "They may not rest there. The Fire Hills of Dargoon are too close. Too close to the last freegan that defies my will." Greenflack paused. He considered a moment then a slow smile spread across his scarred face. "Burn around it. Draw them to Holesbane and I will use my power to entrap the girl. The call of the freegan will be too much for her to abide and I will use it to bring her here to me."

Satisfied with his scheme he dismissed Em and walked towards his chamber. As he passed the tethered girl, he raised his foot and struck her with a force that took the wind from her small frame.

A second shadow passed over the room as a freegan took flight. Greenflack edged closer to his bed licking his lips with anticipation. The naked woman was sprawled across his bed, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She lifted a large breast and curled her tongue seductively around her rosy nipple. "Mamma wants to feed," she coaxed and smiled to see the twitching length of his member straining to be loose.

Quickly sated, Greenflack lay among the limbs of his she-mate and pondered his next move. He needed to be rid of Jadara. She was all that stood between his total dominance of Fellnesia. He trusted Em to manipulate the boy but he knew not to underestimate the Passer king. The freegan were his only remaining chance to entice the girl to him. Their power was an untapped resource that fuelled his desire for supremacy. Greenflack rose and shrugged on his gown. He left the sleeping wench and descended the stairs, already revelling in the haunted cries of the beasts below.

Word is Out

The new day dawned clear, making troubles fade away. Spirits were high as the warriors ate their fill of last night's leftovers. A plan was afoot to travel in long barges across the lake, saving a few days' ride. The horses had already been strapped down and were being floated towards the far side of the vast water. Goodbyes were uttered as children lined the banks, waving and cheering with the innocence of youth.

Slowly the long barges glided out of the harbour of huts that made up the hamlet of Verdalia. The gentle whinny of the horses could be heard on the misty dawn. The Passers sat in the centre of one of the wooden barges, huddled close and uneasy at this mode of transport. They much preferred the rhythmic galloping of their powerful horses to the almost hypnotic movement of the lake's surface.

Jadara sat so close to Thanly that their thighs were touching. She took nothing but comfort from this contact as she turned to her left to chat amiably with Roughier. She was engrossed in the story of how he had become a Passer. Her face reflected the twists and turns of his tale, changing from horror to humour in an instant. Unaware that she was being observed by the men, she hung on each word that the older man uttered.

Adamen's face reflected the raw emotions of lust and anger, anger at his own lack of self-control. His feelings infuriated him yet he could not look away from her innocent face, delighting in a remark made by Roughier. He had heard the story before, of course, but marvelled at the reactions of one to whom it was new.

Roughier was approaching his sixty-fourth awakening, and he had ridden with Lambord and his father before him since his initiation at seventeen. He had been a strong youth, standing head and shoulders above his peers. He had come to the attention of the now deceased Passer king as he rode with his men to a sudden and solemn passing in the Earth lands. Branado, the clan chief of the kin-folk of Tymoria, had passed and needed to be returned to Earth before the snows. The people of the hamlet had just begun their warrior games and Roughier had entered despite his youth. Branado's passing request had been that the games were to proceed.

When The Passers rode in they were greeted with the ceremonious games. Earth kin took their games very seriously, and The Passers were invited to enter a warrior. Logan, Lambord's father, a confident and seasoned fighter, relished the chance for some action, so he entered himself. As the games progressed, it became obvious that two warriors dominated, and a showdown was inevitable. Logan finally faced Roughier in the final three challenges--fire fear, demon drop and combat.

Fire fear involved baiting a freegan from his volcanic home and battling it to the death. The beasts were feared throughout the Earth element as they flew low and fierce among homes and livestock, often wiping out entire kins with a single fiery breath. In the challenge, the beast was lured from his nest and the warriors attempted to race one another to destroy it. Logan was the seasoned warrior whilst Roughier was an innocent pup, relying on his size and strength to succeed. The battle was brief as Logan launched himself from the ground in an almighty leap, sickle sword aloft, as he struck the beast in the soft flesh of its underbelly. Innards rained down on the startled youth as Logan howled in triumph. A reverberating cheer arose from the eager crowd as Logan claimed the first victory.

Demon drop required the contestants to leap from a cliff top and travel down the face of rock, grabbing branches, ledges and roots as they descended to ground level. Roughier had the advantage here as he was young, nimble and well used to escaping from scrapes in unconventional ways. He had found that maiden's fathers lost their desire to pursue when faced with a sheer cliff drop. With a cheeky wave, he stepped off the cliff as if he were strolling along a pathway. He reached the bottom before Logan had passed the halfway point.

At one all, total conquest depended on the combat round. Swords were drawn, and the two male-mates faced each other in the battle ring. The way Roughier told it, Logan simply lost his footing, and he was crowned champion. As the longest serving Passer, his story was never disputed, but many who had witnessed Roughier in battle knew of his total domination in any fight. The respect for his king that was evident in his tale added to his credibility as a Passer.

The end of the story came abruptly and Jadara looked up to find numerous pairs of eyes regarding her fondly. She smiled back at them, looking around the group with equal warmth. It unnerved her at how quickly she was feeling part of these fearsome warriors, how quickly they were becoming her kin. Her affection came to an awkward halt as her eyes met a pair that glared back at her with granite brutality. She tried her best to glare back, cross that one man could spoil her happy mood. She turned back to Roughier and pointed to one of the amber markings on his forearm.

"Are these awarded for battles?" she asked, tracing the intricate spiral design with her finger.

"No, she-mate, no. These are for passings. It's what we do. When we're not fighting," he added, to lighten the mood.

A rumble of mirth resounded from the men as they looked down to study their own markings. Each held a special memory from a passing that they had absorbed. Jadara still did not really understand the passing process and just why these men were so caught up in mystery and legend. Why were they so feared yet they inspired such awe throughout Turonia? She turned her attention back to her father who shook his head at her.

"All in good time, lass. Now is not the time to know. When you're ready, I will tell you more but now we must head towards the Air folk. We will need more than we have here if we are to stand a chance at defeating Greenflack. It will be the moment when the kin-folk need decide who they will stand with."

Jadara's face clouded with pain as she thought of her grandmother and the harm that was promised if she revealed her meeting with the raven-haired stranger. Anger rose, causing her brown eyes to flash their amber sparks.

* * * *

Adamen found himself staring at her again. He would give anything to know what was going on in that head of hers, to know what caused so many emotions to flit across her face. Trying not to tip the raft, he edged closer to her, sliding in between her and Roughier, who had leaned over to watch the dancing fish that swam in the wake of the moving craft.

"Someone has made your blood boil," he said. "I wonder who has caused you such anger."

Jadara quickly blinked away her rage and flashed a look in Adamen's direction.

"I was thinking about Roughier's story," she lied smoothly.

Not believing her for a moment, Adamen chose to ignore the lie in an effort to try and gain her trust. He had a strong feeling that all was not as it seemed with Jadara, and he sensed unease in her. The Passers were trained, not only in combat but, in how to read people and their instincts served them well. He had decided to put his personal desires to the back of his mind and try to win back the maiden's good favour.

"About the other day," he whispered, "I am sorry if I caused you offence, princess."

She gazed down at her knees, a blush already staining her cheeks. He grinned boyishly at her evident humiliation as he recalled her passionate response.

"I-I...have... What I mean is, I have never, you know, been with a male-mate," she quietly stammered, the blush on her cheeks intensifying. "Don't mock me!" she hissed angrily as a wide smile spread over Adamen's face. "How dare you!" she raged, as he made no effort to hide the merriment he felt at her confession.

The looks they were beginning to attract from the others on the barge made them both avert their eyes from each other. Deep in thought, Adamen could not stop the smile from gracing his handsome face. She certainly seemed to know male-mates by her response to his touch, but it pleased him greatly to hear that she did not. Knowing his effect on her now, he leaned in towards her. Her sharp intake of breath made him bold.

"I felt it too, Princess, and I look forward to finding out more about your pleasure in my kiss."

Jadara certainly didn't trust herself to answer, so she busied herself adjusting her position on the raft. Her discomfort was short lived as a soft bump heralded the fact that dry land had been reached. She looked up and gasped at the scene before her. Trees as far as the eye could see had been burnt or scorched. Black ash lay across the once verdant landscape. The Passers scrambled out of the raft, almost falling over in their eagerness to investigate. Jadara walked quietly to her father's side and laid her hand upon his arm. It was tense with built up rage, and she felt the pulse of his fury.

"Who?" she asked.

"Greenflack!" Lambord said. "No one else would be capable of such an act."

"Are we close then?" Jadara was already thinking of her chance to escape and face this monster.

"No," said Lambord. "He has moved his power far from Jadehollow. Far indeed," he mused, more to himself than to her.

The Passers helped to unload the horses then mounted up and prepared to ride. They had agreed to press on to the nearby hamlet of Fardaria to find out what had transpired since their last patrol. The chief of the hamlet was known to Lambord as a trusted friend, and they could take refuge there to reassess their plans.

Unbeknown to Lambord, Jadara's mind was busy forming its own plan. A plan that could jeopardise all that he was working for.

As the group prepared to depart, they heard the sound of approaching hooves across the cindered plain. A small speck of colour gradually became a lone messenger, dispatched from Adamen's own hamlet, Holesbane.

"Dirken!" greeted Adamen, surprised at the arrival of his childhood friend.

The slightly built man dismounted from his horse, exhaustion evident from his stance. He gratefully accepted the offered skin, freshly filled with water from the lake. Lambord waited for the newcomer to drink, impatience evident in his taut muscles.

"Attack!" gasped Dirken between gulps. "We are all under attack. Greenflack has set his sights on the Fire Hills of Dargoon. He has captured the freegan and uses them to wield terror over the land. They are unleashing fire on all who oppose him. I was sent out to get help unite the loyal kin from all elements. The time has come for the elements to fight together, to stand against Greenflack."

Lambord listened with a puzzled frown.

"Why now," he mused. "What has changed? Why does he need to increase his power? What does he know?" He spoke the last words more to himself, but he gazed at Jadara with concern. "It is not possible," he said. "How?"

Jadara looked quickly away from his probing stare. She knew how and she was pretty sure that she knew why. As she suspected, it would be down to her to put things right. Too many people had suffered because of her.

"Assassin from within," the Dolchie had said. She was that assassin. She was the cause, and she needed to be the solution.

A quick conversation between Lambord and Roughier had established that the group would ride to Fardaria and send out messengers to each of the Elements. There would be a call to war, a call to unite and defeat the common enemy. The Passers would then ride back with Dirken to prepare for battle. Greenflack seemed to have established himself in a dwelling within easy reach of the Fire Hills, so the hamlet of Holesbane would be a perfect base for challenging him.

Adamen was uneasy about such a return to his kin but his duty came first, and he trusted the counsel of his king. The group wanted to make haste in reaching Fardaria and set off at a frenzied pace across the ashen field of the once abundant forest lands, home to the Air Element, the tree dwellers. Home to Jadara's kin-folk.

Woodland Round Up

A day's hard riding with only a brief repast ended abruptly when a wall of men blocked the path ahead. The men were distinctive, and a pang shot through Jadara's heart as she saw the familiar green eyes that her mother had possessed. Those green eyes heralded the kin-folk of Air.

The warriors were dressed in pale green tunics, tied with wide rope belts from which hung sword bows, the weapon of choice for Jadara too. Their hair hung in the traditional braids of Air dwellers, and their faces were set in the grim realisation that they may have met their match this day.

"Peace!" boomed Lambord. "Has it come to this? The Passers greeted with such hostility?"

"Times have changed, Passer!" said a man stepping forward from the line. "Strangers are no longer welcome in the hamlet of Fardaria."

"Strangers?" said Lambord. "Move aside, boy, and let us meet your chief. I come with grave news for the whole of Fellnesia. The time has come to unite or fall. As perceived by the Dolchies, the time of Change has come."

The men fell back at these words. Whichever Element a child was born to, the story of the Change was told as bedtime tales. The Dolchie foretold of a time when the Elements would unite, and a new age would begin. It was to be an age when kin would leave kin, and new tribes would emerge, tribes that would combine the people of Fellnesia. This time would be called 'The Change.'

Lambord led the wary group of warriors into the town circle. All the men had their hands poised by their swords as they looked from left to right, above and below, waiting for signs of an attack. Adamen and Roughier flanked Jadara, pressing close to her horse. Not a sliver of daylight could have passed between Adamen and her, he was so close. The side where Adamen rode felt hot, and her pulse raced up and down her leg as the rhythmic riding brought his naked thigh into contact with her own clad one. Through the thin fabric of her own gown, she could feel the heat of his solid form. Despite the potential for disaster such a union could bring, Jadara found her thoughts wandering to what the rest of that taut body would feel like, moving against her own. She looked up, aghast at the betrayal of her imagination, to find Adamen's eyes searching hers. As if he could read her mind, he growled a low snarl and leaned closer.

"Beware such looks, Princess," he rumbled. "A man could forget his vows and satisfy that curiosity of yours."

Jadara's lips parted at the unexpected delight that his words aroused. When she absentmindedly licked her top lip, the moan that erupted from Adamen brought her to her senses. She quickly dismounted and busied herself with her horse, determined not to look up at his retreating figure, thereby missing the hatred-filled glares that passed between Adamen and Thanly. Eventually, Roughier moved in to defuse the situation with a slap on the back and the promise of a hearty repast.

Lambord approached Jadara from the right.

"Follow me!" he ordered and led her towards a ladder that dangled from the low branch of a nearby tree. Jadara gazed up for the first time since arriving. She gasped at the scene before her. Tree dwellings sat nestled in the low boughs of the mighty earks. A thriving community busied themselves above her head as they travelled along wooden bridges from hut to hut. Laughter rang out as jokes were exchanged; life carrying on as normal. Jadara ached for the familiarity of home. It seemed like so long ago that she set out on her quest, so long since she'd laughed in that carefree way. Lost in thought, Jadara conjured the face of Drew. Her grandmother seemed to frown at her, urging her on with the task in hand. Guiltily, Jadara broke her daydream and followed her father up the ladder and into a nearby hut. By its size and position, she knew it to be the dwelling of the clan chief. Inside the brightly lit hut, Jadara was greeted by two warm arms, encircling her and pulling her in for a crushing embrace.

"Princess." He greeted her with the customary kiss on the forehead that was unique to the Air folk. "You are truly welcome here. It is our honour to receive you. I knew your grandfather well. He was a fine leader. My given name is Yourian," he said with a small bow.

Jadara nodded her head in gratitude, unsure of how to respond. She gazed into Yourian's grass-green eyes. They so reminded her of her mama. A white beard surrounded his weathered face, the skin brown from exposure to the sun. Jadara sensed kindness and smiled into those familiar looking eyes.

"You must be weary," he soothed. "My daughter, Heidina, will attend you. Go and rest. Your father and I have much to discuss, starting, I think, with an apology for your greeting here today. Times have been very uneasy since your last visit, old friend," he added, turning towards Lambord.

Jadara, sensing a long discussion, searched for the maiden known as Heidina. A willowy girl, of around thirteen summers, smiled shyly and approached.

"P-P-Princess," she stammered, leaning awkwardly to place a kiss on Jadara's forehead as her father had done.

"Jadara, please. I am still new to the concept of princess, a title only bestowed on me a week ago. So just Jadara suits me quite well."

Jadara reached for the girl's hand and continued in a secretive tone. "Now, where can we go to get some repast and peace away from those fearsome warriors?"

Like a pair of conspirators, the giggling maidens linked arms and walked out of the hut. Heidina directed Jadara to an empty dwelling nestled in the overhanging branches of a nearby eark. A canopy of green hung down to create a private space. A small bedchamber led to a secluded seat that was harnessed to the branch overhead with sturdy vine. The construction allowed for a rocking motion. Jadara lowered herself onto the plump cushion and relaxed as the gentle swaying eased her aching limbs. Within minutes, her eyelids began to feel heavy, and she soon lost the fight with consciousness. Heidina melted away, leaving Jadara to enjoy an undisturbed nap.

Jadara's sleep was all too soon disturbed by unpleasant dreams of the raven-haired Em. He was pacing around her grandmother's house. In her slumber, Jadara heard the voice of Drew calling to her for help.

"I will return," called Jadara. "I will come back for you."

With a start, Jadara's eyes flew open. She gasped as she saw the muscled form of Adamen leaning lazily on the frame of the bedchamber, regarding her with a satisfied gleam. He seemed larger than usual in the confined space of the tree dwelling, and his manliness was hard to ignore.

"Troubled slumber, Princess?"

"I-I... dreamed about home."

* * * *

Her frank answer impressed him, and her openness touched his heart. He did not deny that he had enjoyed the few minutes spent watching her. Concerned by her obvious distress, his instinct had been to scoop her up and comfort her in his protective arms. Alas, his thoughts then turned to carnal images of what he would do next. The lure of the bed next to her only encouraged his vivid fantasy. Adamen observed with amusement the change in Jadara's breathing. He had had enough women interested in him to read the signs of arousal and knew from experience that he could just reach out and pull this beautiful she-mate into his practised embrace. The thought made him ache for her in his loins. His duty seemed to pale in significance as their two souls reached out to find each other.

* * * *

Jadara squirmed under his scrutiny, aware of his smouldering eyes and taut body. She stood up, eager to avoid the vulnerability she felt looking up at him from the seat. Now there were two of them in the enclosed space, and their bodies were just inches apart. Jadara allowed herself to imagine how Adamen's arms would feel under the soft touch of her fingertips, how she could run her hands across his muscled chest. Her breathing became heavier as she let her mind wander to places lower on his body, imagining what she might find there.

Jadara stretched out a tentative hand and heard a low, throaty growl from the warrior before her. Urged on by his passion, she touched the solid wall of his chest as a responding moan escaped her lips. Adamen lowered his head, and his lips possessed hers. Fire leapt through her body, and a heady glow filled her core. Her mouth responded instinctively to his, and she moved her lips with a furnace of passion inciting her on. Adamen appeared delighted by her primeval ardour and began to lower his head to trace a trail of burning kisses down to her breast. His hand grasped her thigh and crushed her wanton body against the timber wall behind. Jadara dug her nails into his back, climbing up his solid frame and wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. If she could have climbed inside him, she would gladly have done it. Adamen was not sure how long his resolve would last as he lifted his head to gaze down into the amber eyes, flecked with sparks of desire.

* * * *

With a gasp of longing, Adamen thrust his finger into the centre of her womanhood. His rough, battle-scarred hands plunged in and out with a steady pace. He caressed the very essence of her desire as waves of ecstasy brought her to a shuddering climax. Wave after wave of gratification rippled through Jadara and pulsed against Adamen's teasing fingers as Adamen relentlessly stroked and thrust into her with his skilled fingers. Then, with a groan of desire, he lifted her up and effortlessly lowered her onto his pulsing erection. This time he thrust with long easy strokes as she reached climax after climax at his expert technique. Finally, when he thought she was sated, Adamen let out a cry of joy and gasped her name. His seed filled her body and released one final wave of indescribable elation that filled every nerve ending in her body.

* * * *

Jadara flushed with shame as she looked down at her feet. Her body had betrayed her, and she had acted like a wanton she-mate in front of this man who had mocked and tormented her mercilessly. She rushed into the bedchamber and stood with her back to the doorway.

"Please leave," she ordered. "I must prepare to return to my father."

"He awaits you in the kin-chief's dwelling," Adamen said brusquely.

Jadara gasped as she realised what she had been doing whilst a room of people awaited her arrival.

"You knew!" she accused. "You came to summon me. How could you?"

"As I recall, princess," drawled Adamen, closing the gap between them and tracing a possessive finger down her back, "you weren't exactly fighting me off. The way I remember it, 'twas you who reached for me."

Already cruelly betraying her, Jadara's body began to respond to Adamen's light caress. He chuckled with the vanity of a man who knew his talents.

"Now, now! No time for that. We are already late. But maybe I will return later."

"Over my dead body you will!" stormed Jadara, pushing past the warrior's bulk to escape the arousing presence of his coital scent.

A satisfied laugh echoed from the small room as Jadara left to meet her father. She hoped that her appearance would not reveal her afternoon's activities to the assembled group. Jadara fumed at the conceit of Adamen assuming she would want to repeat the intimacy. She pushed aside the nagging thought that her chamber would seem very empty on her return, without the presence of the Passer.

Back in the dwelling of Yourian, plans were afoot. Various riders had already been dispatched to take a message to the surrounding hamlets and kin-folk. This was not just a problem for the Air Element, but Earth and Water were at risk too. It was time for the people of Fellnesia to unite as one and restore peace to their land. A heated debate was now in full flow as Lambord paced back and forth, and Yourian wrung his hands in frustration.

"She's safer here until it is all over!" he raged. "She is our queen. She is our destiny. We are not prepared to send her out as a sacrifice for your ego."

"Caution, friend," warned Lambord in a deadly calm voice that struck fear into the hearts of those who knew him. "She is my daughter and I shall keep her safe. She rides with me!"

"Agreed," added Roughier with a flourish of his arm. "Her only chance for safety is with us."

"May I be entitled to an opinion?" asked Jadara. Her tone was polite but her fists clenched into tight balls at her side revealed the truth about her feelings on her fate being decided by a group of squabbling men. Roughier noticed and promptly curbed his next remark.

Lambord inclined his head in assent, and the assembly looked expectantly towards the young maiden burdened with their hopes for the future.

"I will _not_ cower here like a docile she-mate," she said. "My people need me and I will fight alongside these warriors to claim back what is mine by birth. My mother sacrificed her family to protect me, and I will honour her name. Greenflack better know what he has unleashed by his traitorous actions. I will not stand by and allow him to intimidate and destroy the lives of the innocent. I will ride and I will go to war and I will win!"

She didn't notice Adamen observing her from the doorway, his eyes filled with pride at her outburst. "Damn that she-mate!" he cursed for the umpteenth time.

* * * *

Further away, under the window and straining to hear what the elders spoke of, Thanly shook his head with a despondent sigh. He slipped, unnoticed, out through the huts, glancing behind only to check that he had been unobserved. He headed towards a clump of trees and disappeared from sight.

* * * *

The feast that followed the meeting of elders was one that was talked about fondly for many a year afterwards. There was a strange kind of elation tinged with fear that preceded a battle. Primary Mates clung to each other with the prospect of separation a growing reality. Boys too young to take a life-mate but old enough for war sought comfort in the arms of willing maidens. Dancing and music lasted into the night, and Jadara lay on her bed listening to the revellers below.

She hadn't glimpsed Adamen all night. No doubt he was enjoying the company of a willing mate. Her body still ached from his touch. It had been her first coupling, so she was tender, and the telltale red stain had penetrated her gown.

The call to war had been sent, and it was decided that The Passers would remain for three suns to gauge the potential size of an army. The warriors would then advance to Holesbane and wait there. Jadara knew that this would be her chance to slip away and make contact with Greenflack herself. She was certain that amidst the battle preparations she would not be missed. Her fingers touched the small dagger that she had slipped beneath her garments before leaving the familiar surroundings of Turonia.

This could be easily plunged into the heart of the traitor, she growled aloud.

A rustle of leaves caused her to sit up in bed and grasp the cold handle of the weapon. She cautiously stood up and edged around the room, hand raised and poised for attack.

A dark shadow fell across the bed as a massive form filled the doorway. Her body knew before her mind had made the connection who stood there. The telltale patter of her increased heart rate could mean only one man.

"Training now?" he queried, taking in the poised dagger and the warrior-like stance.

"I thought you were... Oh, never mind."

"Jadara, you are surrounded by the best warriors in Fellnesia. No one is going to harm you."

"Why are you here? I thought you might have been out enjoying yourself," she said.

"When I could be in here enjoying myself?" Adamen quipped, edging closer to his target. He glanced around the room and observed the stained robe.

"No!" he gasped. "Jadara, I didn't know. I know you said you were but... I thought you may have..."

"May have what?" she demanded, hands flying to her hips in outrage. "No, Passer! As I told you before, you had the honour of being my first mate. I should thank you," she goaded, determined to cause him the shame she felt. "I have developed a taste for mating now. I will choose my next man with more care."

"Why, you witch," snarled Adamen. "I have not finished with you yet! You will never want another man when I have had my fill of you."

Soundlessly he closed the gap between them and lowered his head to catch her lips in a punishing embrace. Fighting and clawing at his flesh, Jadara's outrage was quickly replaced by soaring passion as she responded to his kiss with a fever that matched his own. He moaned with pleasure as he seemed to instinctively sense the change in her response.

This time, Adamen raised her up and lowered her onto the bed gently. He removed her robe and ran his strong fingers over her naked form, tracing every inch of her body with his skilled hands. His lips then traced the path of his hands, urging her to buck and thrust against his touch as he kissed and tasted every part of her. As he explored her form with his mouth, his fingers slipped into the place that held her inner warmth. Her tightness thrilled him, and he was soon pushing his shaft into her moist core. Conscious of the tenderness of her first time, he moved with a gentleness that thrilled and delighted her. She cried out for him to push harder and deeper until he could stand no more. He withdrew then re-entered her with the force of his desire and brought them both to simultaneous satisfaction. Sated, they lay entwined as the sounds of gaiety carried on outside the window.

At dawn's first light, Jadara awoke to find a heavy arm stretched protectively across her body. The rising sun cast a golden glow over the small chamber and reflected on Adamen's naked torso, giving him the appearance of copper. Stretching out, he instinctively tightened his grasp around Jadara's small waist and drew her into his tight embrace.

"Good morning, Princess," he crooned, beginning to rub his thumb over her hardening nipples.

Reddening at the memory of last night's lovemaking, Jadara buried her head in the pillow and groaned. A low chuckle rumbled through Adamen's chest. "Now she's shy," he teased. "What happened to the woman from last night? She's been replaced by a timid girl."

Determined to prove that she was no such thing, it was some time later before Jadara emerged from her quarters. She almost walked straight into Thanly.

"Jadara!" he exclaimed. "I was just on my way to find you. Care for some training?" He brandished his weapon in circles.

"Thanly. I'd love to."

Eager to pursue a normal activity, one that she felt skilled in, Jadara followed Thanly's lead out of the hamlet and into a large clearing.

"Where have you been hiding?" asked Thanly. "I have been looking for you. It is not like you to sleep for so long."

Jadara flushed and mumbled something about aching limbs and too much riding. She then raised her sword bow in a challenge, hoping to avoid any further interrogation. Happy to oblige, Thanly began to parry his own sickle sword left and right, exchanging strongly delivered blows. Their combat lasted until the sun was high in the sky. Jadara relished the fresh air and ability to move freely, and Thanly was glad to be away from the horses.

At last they stopped and drank deeply from their skins. Thanly looked at Jadara with a question in his eyes.

"Will you ever return to Turonia?"

Jadara took a moment to reply. "I promised I would," she confessed. "I promised Drew."

"You've changed so much in such a short time," Thanly remarked. "Turonia would never suit you now," he said sadly. "Not for long. I'd hoped that one day we'd be as one. You and I together, in Turonia."

"Oh, Thanly!" gasped Jadara, so upset that this gentle friend could be so hurt by her actions. She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. Tears sprang to her eyes and she wept for all that she had lost and all that was still to come. Thanly soothed and rubbed her back, relishing the intimacy of the moment. His eyes glanced furtively towards the undergrowth as if he expected to be interrupted.

It was this embrace that Adamen witnessed as he strode into the glen. His brown eyes blazed and glinted like charcoal at the scene before him.

"Princess," he growled, nodding curtly towards the pair. "Lambord requests your presence. Now."

"You," he snarled at Thanly, "make ready the horses. We leave today!"

"Today?" questioned Thanly. "But I thou--"

"Don't think!" Adamen cut him off. "Just ready the horses."

As Thanly left, he fumed inwardly at the sudden change of plan.

Jadara attempted to follow but felt a vice-like grip encircle her right arm.

"Couldn't wait to try your new found skills out, Princess?"

Jadara flared up in anger and snatched her arm away. "How dare you!" she fumed. "Thanly is my friend. At least he was until you all showed up and took my life away!" She glared at him with her eyes blazing. There was so much that she wanted to say but could not find the words.

"It matters not to me," he said cruelly. "A welcome distraction before a battle is a common occurrence."

Jadara had heard enough. She stalked past Adamen with quiet dignity, relieved that she had not revealed more of her feelings towards him.

* * * *

Adamen followed with his eyes cast down. He regretted his spiteful outburst and cursed himself for allowing jealousy to tarnish what they had shared. His skin still burned with her feminine touch and the scent of her hair lingered in his mind. He had been with women before, of course. The Passers had left many a notch on she-mates' bedposts. But Jadara was different. She had somehow touched his soul. It was forbidden for Passers to settle down, to take a Primary Mate. He knew that, but something about her reached out to him. His urge to protect one minute and seduce the next had him totally flammerised--as Roughier would put it!

Back in the hamlet, preparations were almost complete for departure. Lambord beckoned Jadara over to his horse.

"We leave at once," he whispered. "Scouts have seen strangers out in the woods. They fear for your safety. Roughier will remain to bring word from the Elements. We will move on to Holesbane. Jadara, you will be safe with me. This journey will take you closer than you have ever been to your destiny. Are you ready?"

Jadara looked into the fiercely marked face of her father and nodded. She was more determined than ever to finish this. She could face Greenflack, she was sure of it.

With a squeeze of her shoulder, Lambord mounted his horse and led the warriors onwards.

Home Sweet Home

The ride to Holesbane passed uneventfully enough. The long days of riding had taken their toll on even the most hardened of the warriors and they travelled in pensive silence. The looming threat of battle hung around the group like a stubborn dawn mist. Lambord insisted that they enter the hamlet by the mountain pass to avoid detection by any sentries that Greenflack might have posted on the approaching road. Adamen led the way, as he was returning to the kin-folk of his youth, whilst Jadara rode behind, bound up in a cloak that obscured her features from inquisitive eyes.

Stealing a wary glance up at the rambling Fire Hills of Dargoon, Jadara could scarcely believe the erupting explosion that met her gaze. She had heard legends of these fiery peaks at her grandfather's knee, but nothing had prepared her for the splendid inferno that she now beheld.

Adamen had turned in his saddle to check on the group in his wake, and he caught the awe and wonder in Jadara's expression. It pleased him to see her reaction to the place he had called home for many awakenings. His eyes softened and he smiled widely at her.

Taken aback by this friendly gesture, Jadara found herself returning his smile.

"Amazing!"

"It is that," Adamen agreed. "We will be arriving soon. You'd best cover yourself better with that cloak until we know it's safe."

Jadara obeyed. She knew that peril awaited her just leagues from here, and she wanted to be in charge of any meeting with Greenflack. He was not going to catch her unaware. She had come too far for that.

As they approached the hamlet nestled among giant rocks that had long ago been spewed from the Fire Hills, devastation met their eyes. The scorched land still smouldered, and carcasses of livestock littered the landscape. Flying parasites buzzed mercilessly around the rotting meat that moved eerily with the writhing mass of their larvae. Jadara, grateful for the cloak that encased her head, pulled the material to cover her nose from the rancid smell that assaulted her.

Adamen caught his breath. This once verdant land now lay desolate. His home had suffered yet the hamlet remained intact. He could see the sturdy clay stone structures that made up the semi-circular dwelling that was so familiar to his gaze.

"A warning," said Lambord, riding up alongside. "Greenflack knows we ride here. He is sending us a sign of his power."

"Well, I am ready to show him a sign of mine!" bellowed Adamen.

A fellow Passer, Gregin, rode up on the other side of his young friend.

"We have company," he observed, gesturing in the direction of the huts.

The gathered crowd heralded the arrival of the riders. Dirken strode forward to greet Lambord in the respectful bow of the Earth Element. He was accompanied by a tall she-mate with golden hair curling loosely down her back. She walked with the confidence of one that is used to being admired. She was dressed in a simple tunic that was fastened around her waist with a braided tie. Her feet were bare although it did not hinder her graceful gait as she made her way through the assembled gathering. With a cry of recognition, she flung herself toward Adamen, leaping aboard his startled stallion and settling herself across his thigh.

"Addy!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and pulling him closely towards her.

"Xila," he responded. "Peace to your kin."

Adamen shot a gleeful look towards Jadara, who had seen enough and was preparing to alight from her mare. She put her back towards the reuniting couple, fury lighting her eyes.

Thanly moved to her side to lend a hand as she dismounted. "Someone's been missed," he whispered.

"Poor fool!" said Jadara scornfully.

She led her horse to the stable where trails of weary beasts were beginning to eat and drink their fill.

By the time Jadara had returned to the central meeting place, the crowd had dispersed, and there was no sign of Adamen, Xila or Lambord. A small, dark-haired woman offered a bowl of roasted meat which Jadara accepted gratefully. She perched on the back of a wooden wagon and ate hungrily.

A loud guffaw emanated from a nearby dwelling followed by the high-pitched laughter of a she-mate. Jadara instantly recognised the deeper voice and her eyes flecked with sparks of amber. The tumbledown door all but fell from its hinges as Adamen burst from within.

"Damn it, I will be but a moment," he laughed good-naturedly and strode towards the fire for a refill of ale and a plate of meat.

Smiling broadly to himself, he did not notice Jadara until he was level with her. She regarded him with swelling rage.

"Princess," Adamen acknowledged, with an incline of his head. "Care to join us?" He motioned towards the hut.

"Join you?" she spat. "How could you?"

"As you wish," he said good-naturedly. "My friend Xila is keen to meet you."

Jadara jumped from the wagon and flew at Adamen, her fists pounding on his hard chest. He was taken aback by her rage and reached down effortlessly to clasp her two angry hands in his one large one. He used pressure to force her arms up above her head and took one step towards her thrashing frame. Crushing her lips with his he forced a bruising kiss on her lips. Despite his brutality, Jadara felt the familiar stirrings of her passion and reluctantly returned his kiss, pushing her tongue inside. At once his mouth softened and annoyance gave way to desire. He released her hands, and they instinctively circled his neck. She pulled away, breathing heavily and looked up at his dark eyes burning with fervour.

"Go back to your she-mate!" Jadara said through gritted teeth as the space between them enabled her thoughts to clear.

She ran off to climb the branch of a nearby eark. Somehow the touch of the ancient bark always soothed her soul and brought peace to her troubled mind. Alas, not this time. Jadara sat, allowing her travel-weary limbs to stretch out before her, and began to reflect on what she had witnessed just moments before. Again her eyes sparked with passionate intensity as she recalled the scene of that beautiful she-mate and Adamen. She recalled the golden glow of her hair and the length and grace of her stride.

Jadara looked down at her own petite legs and cursed her shortcomings. How could he have been with her in such a way, and then return to his she-mate? How could he have suggested she join them? What manner of male-mate was he? He had used her to sate his lust and now had cast her aside for the true object of his desire. The betrayal was raw.

_Betrayer_ , she thought. _An assassin of my heart was not what I expected_ , Jadara lamented.

From the height of the branch, Jadara looked around the hamlet of Holesbane and took in the detail of the clay-stone homes. Their pretty exteriors had been adorned with blossoms and boughs in keeping with the mourning rituals of the Earth Element. Jadara noticed the lack of movement in the meeting place and the closed shutters of the main kin-chief's building that stood directly north of the hamlet, as was customary in these dwellings. She concluded that a passing must have occurred, and she prepared to go and pass her respects to the grieving family.

A flash of colour at the edge of her vision halted this plan of action. She looked to her left, only to see the disappearing form of Thanly. Curiosity overwhelmed her as she followed him between the stone huts and out into the forest beyond. Jadara struggled to keep pace with Thanly, but something stopped her from calling out to him. His actions seemed odd, so she chose to keep silent. It was this silence that proved to be her saving grace in the events that transpired.

Thanly dodged in and out of trees until he reached a clearing. He raised his hands to his mouth and uttered a soft hooting sound. A responding sound echoed back into the dell, and a figure emerged to join Thanly there. Jadara had positioned herself behind a thick trunk and smothered a gasp as she recognised the face of Em, the raven-haired man.

"What news?" he snapped, twitching his head this way and that, uneasy at the proximity to the nearby hamlet.

"She's here."

"You've done well, boy," said Em.

"And my family?" demanded Thanly. "What news of them. Do they remain safe?"

"All in good time, boy, all in good time. We must arrange for a trip outside the hamlet. Jadara must be brought out here, away from those barbarians that guard her. My master wishes to meet with her alone."

"Not alone!" protested Thanly. "I will accompany her. I shall keep her safe."

Em laughed a cold, hard laugh that ended in a rasping cough.

"You will be the person she least wants to see, betrayer!"

"Bu-bu-but, my family," protested Thanly weakly. "You said they'd be harmed."

"They are safe in Turonia. What would Greenflack want with more prisoners to feed? No boy, your betrayal came from your own desire to possess her, to take her as your mate and keep her away from the rest of Fellnesia. You wanted her, and you would have done anything to achieve that."

From the safety of her vantage point, Jadara listened with mounting disgust. Bile rose in her throat as the enormity of Thanly's betrayal was revealed. How could he? He was her friend, her Thanly. She turned, blinded by tears, and crashed through the undergrowth away from the scene playing out before her eyes. She pushed on, moving deeper into the forested surrounds of the Fire Hills. Dimly aware of voices calling her name, Jadara rushed on sightless in the thickening branches. She was scratched and bleeding but felt no physical pain, bruised instead by raw emotions. A protruding root sent the princess sprawling to the rocky precipice of a large ravine. Jadara grasped at a rock as her legs swung out into open space, but her weight propelled over the edge. Crashing through vines and loose rocks, Jadara's body tumbled. Her bones crunched as they met with unrelenting obstacles on her decent.

Finally, resting on a ledge, Jadara caught her breath. She dared not move left or right for fear of falling down the remainder of the steep cliff. The pain was now a reality, coursing through her body and causing her to slip in and out of consciousness. The vague notion that a voice called to her entered her dream-like state and she willed her own vocal chords to respond to the hail.

In her hallucinations, strong arms encircled her and held her close. The virile odour of manly flesh imprinted on her mind.

"Mmm, Adamen, you came," she murmured. "I knew you'd come for me."

The fear in the eyes of her rescuer and the fierce passion with which he, single-handedly, scaled the cliff with her clasped tightly to him did not go unnoticed by her anxious father, nor the awaiting team of fellow rescuers. Lambord wisely spoke not a word of his observations. He simply gave a pat on the back of gratitude to his friend: the friend who had just saved his daughter's life.

Three suns came and went before Jadara's soul returned to her body and her eyes flicked open. She took in her simple surroundings. A vacant chair set beside the large bed she lay in was all the furniture in the substantial room. An open shutter caused a veil of material to dance merrily in the cool breeze. The orange hue pouring in revealed the hour as sunset. Jadara winced with pain as she attempted to get up out of bed.

"Stay right where you are," ordered a deep voice strained with emotion.

Jadara looked up at the approaching figure of Adamen. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his face looked pale in the evening glow.

"You look terrible," she rasped with a throat as dry as the sand plains of Thermon.

Adamen leaned over, proffering a skin of cold water. She drank thirstily and smiled her thanks.

"I look terrible?" Adamen tried to joke. "You should see things from here, Princess."

"Where am I? What happened? Thanly?" She suddenly recalled the horror and tears sprang into her eyes. "Oh no, Thanly!" Sobs shook her frail shoulders causing shots of pain to course through her.

"I am sorry," Adamen said. "Thanly has gone. We think to Greenflack. He was seen talking with the stranger who had been noticed in Fardaria. The stranger is Greenflack's advisor. A man they call Em. He has betrayed you, Jadara."

"His family," sobbed Jadara, unable to stem the flow of her tears. "They threatened to kill his family."

"No excuse!" roared Adamen, furious at the hurt in Jadara's soft eyes. "He could have come to us. We would have sent protection."

Jadara looked away with a guilty flush. Wasn't she just the same? She too had kept a secret that threatened the ones she now loved as kin.

* * * *

Adamen reached to grasp Jadara's hand. Visions of her crumpled body had haunted his waking hours, and he had maintained a constant vigil at her side. He was in no doubt of his feelings--he loved her. He wanted her, and he could not bear to think of what he would become without her. It had struck him as he sat and watched her soulless form in the bed. As a Passer, he had sensed the absence of her soul as her body healed. At the return of her essence, he had raced off to fetch Lambord, who now waited patiently outside, listening to the dialogue between these two young mates.

* * * *

Lambord had some decisions to make but now was a time for his daughter to recuperate. He entered the chamber and greeted his offspring with a brief hug.

"Adamen," he said. "Go now and rest. She is safe and back with us in body and spirit. Your work is complete."

Adamen slowly released Jadara's hand as if it were the last thing he wanted to do. She looked up in thanks and noticed the swirling tail of a bronze mark snaking up his forearm.

"Your arm," she said. "You have a mark."

"I do," he answered grimly. "I have absorbed my first soul. I am a Passer."

Jadara looked from man to man with a puzzled frown.

"I do not understand," she said.

Lambord sighed heavily and waved Adamen on his way.

"It's time you knew more, more about The Passers. When a soul leaves a body, it passes into the element of that kin member. Water passes into water, Air into air and Earth into earth. Our role is to assist in that process. The soul does not always find its own way, so it often needs our help to pass. We accompany the soul to its resting place so the harmony of the land remains in balance. We are the interim vessel for the soul.

"The markings that you noticed are the traces of each soul that we bear. Each one is different, each one unique. We wear them with pride. Each soul takes a part of us. We are warriors to protect them. We do what it takes to find the resting place for each one. Some we carry for a short time, some we hold for longer. We know the place when we see it, and the force is released. We bear the marks of that journey forever."

Jadara listened, fascinated.

"Adamen," she asked. "He has only just received his first marking. Did he absorb the soul of the passed kin member? I saw the signs of mourning before I left the hamlet."

"Lass, something I don't really understand has happened these past few suns. Adamen had that mark when he climbed up the ravine with you in his arms. The soul he bore was yours, Jadara. He held your soul while you healed and released it back to you just now."

"So, I had passed? My soul left me?" Jadara was confused. She did not know much about the end, but she did know that no one returned from a passing.

"I don't fully understand myself," confessed Lambord. "It seems that your body needed to heal without your soul. The pain in your soul caused by Thanly's betrayal may have hindered your body from healing. The... er... connection," Lambord said, looking abashed at the implication of his words, "that you shared with Adamen was strong enough to allow your soul to leap. You two are joined as one."

Shocked at the idea of what had transpired, Jadara closed her eyes to make sense of the facts.

"Adamen is my concern now," continued Lambord. "He was not a full Passer as he had never absorbed another's essence. That is why he remained unmarked. He could never attract a passing. I believe now that his destiny lies elsewhere. It lies with you."

A thrill of excitement shook Jadara's body as the truth of Lambord's statement filled her heart with certainty. She then remembered Xila and her face fell.

"What of Adamen's mate here?" she asked. "The one who greeted him so warmly?"

"Xila is the Primary Mate of Dirken," he explained. "Adamen rescued her from a freegan when he was a youth. They are as kin to one another."

Once again, tears flowed freely down Jadara's cheeks. She cried with the hurt of betrayal and the promise of new beginnings. She cried with pain and with fear for her kin. She cried for what she must do and the trust that she must deceive.

"You must rest now." Lambord looked concerned at her visible trembling. He feared that he had revealed too much and that she was not sufficiently recovered to cope with such a burden.

Jadara composed her wild thoughts and reached for his hand, reassuringly patting its weathered skin.

"I am feeling much recovered," she assured him. "Please stay and tell me what news from the hamlets."

Lambord settled himself down into a low wooden chair beside the bed. He outlined the developments of recent days. He told of how the kin-folk of the Elements were beginning to unite and pledge their loyalty to defeat Greenflack. It seemed that his power had extended to the edges of Fellnesia, causing chaos and destruction in its wake. Jadara listened in horror as tales of Greenflack's unscrupulous behaviour were recounted. Her tender heart went out to her people, the people she knew and the ones she had yet to meet.

"War looms," Lambord told her solemnly. "There is no avoiding it now. Greenflack knows of you, thanks to Thanly."

Jadara gasped. "What news of Thanly?" she asked. "He was scared. I heard him. Scared for his family and scared for me."

"He betrayed you," stated Lambord with the conviction of a man who saw the world as black and white. "He had your trust and he betrayed you. Even now, he may be using his knowledge to help our enemy."

Jadara's mind raced with the fate of Thanly. She had been the one to put them in danger. She should tell her father of her encounter with Em. Yet, somehow she could not bring herself to divulge this secret. She could not imagine a war caused just because of her and her destiny. Her destiny was to face Greenflack and face him alone. Jadara vowed that as soon as her strength had returned, she would continue her quest single-handedly.

Lambord continued to outline the positions of troops and times for attack but Jadara, still weakened from her ordeal, felt her eyelids closing in reluctant slumber.

Sensing the change in Jadara's breathing, Lambord crept out and back to the hub of his strategic advisors. The path of his daughter and the young warrior whom she cherished played heavily on his mind. Adamen was shaping up to be a fine Passer, maybe even fit to replace him as king in the future. He came from a line of respected Earth kin-folk, so his heritage was ideal for the role. Lambord had not failed to notice the attraction between Adamen and Jadara. Anyone who had eyes could see for themselves the effect that they had on each other. He would be proud to call the boy his kin if a mating were to occur; however, taking a Primary Mate was forbidden for a Passer. His soul had to be pure to accommodate those of the Passings. Linking to a Primary Mate meant linking souls and that left a body immune to the collection of the spirit of a departing soul. Fernella had understood this. It had taken some explaining but she had understood. Lambord was not as sure that his strong-willed daughter would take as kindly to the arrangement. It meant that Adamen would have to leave of his own free-will and join with Jadara in the same ceremony to avoid any stray passings to occur in between.

"Damn that Thanly!" cursed Lambord, as he considered the volume of deaths and passings that would inevitably result from battle. They would need every Passer they had. However, if Adamen began to absorb souls it would be too late for him to deny his calling and Jadara would lose him forever.

"You seem troubled, friend," said a familiar voice.

Lambord was pleased to look up and see Yourian. He had arrived with Roughier and his men, ready to make a stand against Greenflack. He was not the only kin-chief in the increasingly crowded room. Every hour more and more kins were arriving in the small hamlet of Holesbane. Tents had been erected in the surrounding area as the army gathered.

"I think Greenflack may suspect something is afoot," roared a new voice accompanied by a loud guffaw.

"Yourian." Lambord motioned towards the newcomer. "May I present your host, Allent, brother of our esteemed Passer, Adamen, and ruler of the hamlet of Holesbane."

"Peace, Allent," greeted Yourian, adding a kiss to Allent's forehead and a low bow of respect.

"Where is that brother of mine?" said Allent. "He has not yet greeted me."

Allent stood a head taller than the willowy Yourian and twice as broad. His red beard hung down to his chest and compensated for the lack of hair on the smooth dome of his head. He was feared as a volatile leader and his hamlet maintained an uneasy peace with its neighbours. Allent had a reputation as the only man who had ever tamed a freegan. Legend told that he had found a young beast and raised it to do his will before releasing it back to its fiery home, poised to fight his enemies on command. Allent took great delight in this status and had told the tale round many a fire in his lifetime.

Lambord gestured in the direction of the huts. "He remains with Jadara," he explained. "His heroic rescue has bound him to her. He will not leave her side. Her safety is in grave danger, and he feels her pain. They are as one since the passing. I cannot explain. I have never seen this happen before but we are in strange times and we must trust what transpires. We all fight for the future of Fellnesia. Jadara has her part to play in that and so, it now seems, does your brother."

Many heads nodded in agreement. Then they began the mammoth task of organising the people into warriors.

The Freegan Rise

Jadara's dreams were not aiding her recovery. Each time her eyes closed the image of a fiery beast, far more terrifying than anything she had ever seen before, haunted her. Its scales were as red as the fires it hailed from, and its giant wings beat with a force that enflamed the inferno that it left in its wake. Its eyes seemed to search her out, calling to her with a haunting cry. Its blackened eyes reflected the scorched remains of forests, dwellings and plains.

Jadara awoke with sweat drenching her body. She glistened in the light of the moon and gasped as her dream slowly faded, reality gradually seeping back into her consciousness.

"What troubles you, Princess?" Adamen whispered from his staunchly-manned position beside her bed.

"Dreams," she replied. "Dreams of fire and beasts and eyes, those tormented eyes," she sobbed.

Warm arms encircled her shuddering body as Adamen eased himself onto the bed to comfort her. Jadara snuggled into the firm wall of his chest and calmed as his familiar heartbeat drummed a soothing rhythm. Her breathing slowed and her tears subsided as the image of the fire beast faded.

The proximity of the mighty warrior soon began to dawn on Jadara causing a new onslaught of worry. With trembling hands, she stroked his tight chest, exploring the contours of his form.

Adamen drew a sharp breath as his body responded to the light caress. His loins tightened in pleasure and anticipation made more potent by his recent encounter with her gentle soul. He was more intensely aware of her emotions in a way he had never been before and ached for every part of her. Her wounds were still raw, and he refrained from reciprocating her touch. This abstinence was a cruel torture as he yearned to lean over and mimic her gentle caressing.

Jadara was momentarily confused by his lack of response and was unsure of how to proceed. An answering moan of sweet delight at her exploring fingers was all she needed to move her hands lower, past his waist, feeling for the heated flesh of his manhood. Her palms touched the long, throbbing shaft that she discovered there. Taking the initiative was making her bold, and she stroked with increasing skill. When Jadara traced a slippery line with her tongue along the path that her hands had just travelled, Adamen groaned with desire. His handsome face broke into a wanton grin, delighted by her courage. He leaned back lazily on the downy pillows ready to enjoy her discovery of him.

That indulgence was short-lived. Adamen could stand only moments of taking the passive role. His mind flashed with how he wanted to touch and taste the sweet flesh of his mate. With a low growl, he took control and grabbed Jadara around her tiny waist. He lifted her onto his lap, lowering her slowly onto his pulsating length. Her tight entry almost made him lose control and he swore with fury at his lack of control over his own body.

Jadara paused, at first alarmed by his anger, then, unable to stop herself, she rose up and down, marvelling at the feeling of his body united with hers. Enjoying the sensation and loath for it to be over, Jadara eased her pace and moved seductively. Her hands grasped Adamen's arms, and she leaned forward, urging him to taste her rosy nipples. Happy to oblige, Adamen savoured the taste of her, sucking and nipping with mounting passion. Together, a wave of euphoria rose up between them and they pulled together, each one increasing the pleasure of the other with their ecstasy.

Sated, Adamen pulled Jadara into his arms and held her close.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured. "I will ward off your dark dreams."

"They were such fiery beasts," she began to explain. "With eyes so sad, so very sad..."

Trailing off, sleep once again claimed the young princess. Adamen stared, deep in thought.

Freegan, he mused as his own eyelids grew heavy. How could she know of them? How could she be dreaming his very dreams?

* * * *

The glazed eye reflected the burning fire that blazed across the mountain. Black as night yet shimmering like a glassy lake, they stared into the very soul of the dreamer as if imploring her to respond. Their desperate cries called to her, reaching out across her consciousness. Warmth spread through her tired limbs, coursing through every part of her broken body. Strength returned in pulsating waves, strength to go to them and heed their troubled cries.

They need me. Her thoughts echoed the resounding message.

Jadara awoke. She was consumed with energy as her dream intensified in its powerful refrain.

"They need me!" she called out. "I must go to them!"

Adamen's arm pinned her to the bed.

"No!" She shook it off with a force that surprised both herself and the warrior in her bed. "I must leave! I am needed."

Adamen sat up now, fully awake and alert to the sudden change in Jadara's spirit. She was up and dressing. Astoundingly, no mark scarred her skin. Just yesterday, he had caressed her scars, the stark reminder of her perilous fall.

This was the work of sorcery. Adamen could feel her power and the heat that radiated from her very soul. He could feel it deep inside him where they were still as one. Something worked within her, something he couldn't name yet he felt its familiar presence as if he'd encountered it before.

"Jadara, stop!" he ordered as she bolted from the room.

With little more than a glance behind, Jadara headed towards the stable. "I must go," she mumbled to no one in particular. "They need me."

* * * *

Lambord was tending to his stallion as the muttering maiden arrived in the stall.

"Jadara!" he exclaimed, amazed to see her recovered from her injuries.

"They are calling me," she gasped. "I can feel their pain. Fire all around and their cries are haunting. Those black eyes filled with woe."

"Freegan!" retorted Lambord as he burst into the stable. "They have linked with you. They have sensed your floating soul and found your consciousness."

"I must go to them," she wept.

Lambord pulled her trembling body into his tight embrace. "Jadara," he soothed. "Come back with me. I will tell you about the freegan then I will go with you and find them. You are chosen indeed, to have been linked with these creatures. Come."

He guided her towards a nearby dwelling then sat her down upon a feathered seat. Roughier and Adamen entered the narrow door, their giant bodies filling the small room. Adamen's grim face searched hers for signs of how she was coping. He carried the guilt of her restless soul as he had absorbed its flight from her almost lifeless body on the cliff.

Lambord started to recount the tale of the freegan that the two warriors had grown up hearing at their kin meets. A tale that told of the origins of The Passers and how their gift had been bestowed by the majestic power of the freegan. Freegan were a fire dwelling blend of dragon and phoenix. Their purpose was to absorb the souls of the departed and act as their vessel to the final resting place in the flames of the Fire Hills of Dargoon.

As the human population multiplied and the freegan population dwindled, the balance was unable to be maintained. People sought lands beyond the realm of the Fire Hills and favoured Air and Water over Fire and Earth. They took with them the given gift of fire, bequeathed with blessings from the freegan. A chosen group of delegates were dispatched to parley with the beasts, and these men were granted access to the thoughts and consciousness of the freegan essence. It was agreed, by this small assembly, that man would take on the responsibility for the gathering of souls and their passing to the next realm. Their souls would be given the choice of setting to concur with their choice of dwelling place. Air would be returned to air, Water to water and Earth to earth. Fire would remain the kingdom of the freegan and would be hallowed by all of the kins.

Jadara listened with awe to the legend. It seemed to awaken something inside her very being. She heard and felt the emotion of the tale as if she were living the very history that unfolded. The Passers who were witness to her trance-like connection later reported having felt the heat of a shining inferno radiating from her very heart and heard the sounds of freegan voices from within her mind.

Lambord continued. He explained that the select group of men who had attended the gathering became known as The Passers, being as they had passed into the Fire Hills to gain a spirituality and because they now possessed the ability to absorb the souls of those who were passing into the next life, aiding their journey to become one with the Element of their kin.

The freegan were left to live out their existence in peace, apart from the occasional rogue member of one race or other bent on causing harm. It now seemed that the freegan had called out for help. Greenflack was rumoured to have imprisoned the beasts, determined to have them submit to his will. His power-crazed rampage of the land had led to an attempt to recreate the merging of minds between the two species. The freegan had reached out to the suspended soul of Jadara whom they recognised by her kin-link with Lambord. She was now their only means of communicating their pain.

Adamen sprang up at that revelation. "Pass it to me!" he cried, leaping toward his king with his fists clenched in frustration. "I will endure their torment. Do not let her carry such a burden."

"Peace, Adamen," Lambord ordered. "We will not allow her to suffer. We will ride with her to the Fire Hills of Dargoon and release those noble beasts from slavery. Then they will break their connection with Jadara."

Jadara came towards Lambord and Adamen. She moved like a sleepwalker. Her eyes glowed with a dancing fire. "They thank you, king and noble warrior, and await your arrival. They caution you not to underestimate the one known as Greenflack. They say he has grown strong and powerful and wields his dominance with cruelty. They advise that he awaits the princess. He knows she will come to him."

Jadara shook her head quickly from side to side. Her trance ended, she blinked at the light of the fire.

"I must go," she repeated with quiet authority.

Nodding as one, the three warriors made ready to accompany her.

Servant's Call

The plan was unravelling fast. Since Thanly had been discovered and forced to leave Jadara's company, Em had been trying to find a way to infiltrate the inner circle of Passers. Those damn warriors surrounded themselves in mystery and legend that none would betray. Em jealously considered how he could inspire such loyalty. He had returned Thanly to the fortress where Greenflack was awaiting his final confrontation with Jadara. The ruined shell of Zergain, the former Passer stronghold, stood desolately against the backdrop of looming mountains capped with snow. The Awakening was well underway but nature had a strange way of leaving the mountains tops the last to know that the snows had ended. The proximity of the rising peaks brought a chill to the air, a chill that seemed to whisper of the impending conflict.

Em shivered and brought his cloak in closer to his slender form. He hurried towards the relative sanctuary of the inner rooms, unscathed by the external decay.

Sensing the change of pace, Thanly lengthened his own stride. He was lost in his own bleak thoughts; the finality of his loss and the fear of the repercussion that would be rained on his unsuspecting family.

A carved wooden door opened, revealing a warm fire within. A menacing figure appeared.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Greenflack said. "Not the captive that I was looking for. You must be Thanly. I cannot say it is a pleasure."

Greenflack turned and returned to the fire, stretching out his hands towards its warmth.

Thanly, rather taken aback at the lack of formal greeting, paused. He was unsure how to proceed. A sharp dig in his ribs and a nod of Em's head encouraged him to follow.

Thanly entered the room and cast a look around, admiring the splendour. From such a dishevelled facade, it was beyond belief that the interior could be so lush. Noticing his gaze, Greenflack intruded on Thanly's thoughts.

"A man must have his comfort," he bragged. "My needs are modest yet I enjoy fine things."

As he spoke, Greenflack moved in mesmerising circles around the fire touching furs and plump head rests as he traversed. Thanly readied himself for the attack. He would surely suffer the wrath of this man for his incompetence.

"I think I will have one more use for you," Greenflack said with a smack of his lips. "The girl will come. She is drawn to me by the freegan cry. I have ordered them to call her. They can enter her mind and bend it to their will. As I control them now, so too do I control her. None can thwart me. Those Passers are nothing compared to me and the power that I wield."

As he spoke, Greenflack continued his circumnavigation of the fire. His words and movements created a hypnotic effect. Thanly watched in awe.

"Em!" Greenflack stopped now and turned to the older man. "Go back and keep watch. The girl, Jadara, ails. Her soul is weak. Freegan, I will lure her to The Fire Hills of Dragoon and bend her to my will. Observe all this and report to me."

Dismissed by this final order, Em quickly departed. He barely even glanced at the young fool beside him. He cared not for his fate, eager only to preserve his own life for as long as possible. As quickly as he could he made his way back to Holesbane. A length of grey hair and an old musty cloak would ensure his identity remained concealed. His green eyes would cause no alarm with the Air kin. He slipped unnoticed into the central gathering place and found a shadowed corner. From there he could observe the comings and goings of the key figures in this game. For a game was what this was to Em. His perverse malice in the sufferings of others brought a sickly smile to his pasty face.

He didn't have to wait for long. Soon he learned that Jadara had come as close to death as anyone had ever been. It seemed that she had chased a traitor from the hamlet and lost her footing at a ravine. She was now laid up in a nearby dwelling with Passer guards never leaving her side.

Em relaxed. With Jadara confined to her bed, his duty was done for a short spell. He could take some time to recharge himself. A visit to the rear of the stable brought the welcome smile of a strong young man with bouncing blond curls and a lean frame. The coin in Em's outstretched hand made clear the expectation and a silent bargain was struck.

After a short while, Em curled up beside the central fire for a much-needed slumber. Satisfied in a way that was sadly rare, sleep came as a welcome friend.

He slept dreamlessly until the sounds of a waking community roused him and alerted him to the news that the princess had woken and left the hamlet in the early hours, accompanied by just three warriors. Cursing his own indulgence, Em set off. Sure of his path, he spied the belching peaks of Dargoon and shuddered with dread.

The Fire Hills of Dargoon

Their journey was quiet, and they rode with determination, each lost in their own thoughts. Adamen glanced frequently towards the Air princess, wishing that he could share the weight of her burden. His memory of the freegan had not dimmed over time, and his dreams were still peppered with their haunting cry.

Jadara too was lost in thought. Her mind raced with images of fire and passion. She yearned to reach out to Adamen, yearned to be in the safety of his arms and feel his touch. Yet those memories were fading as the freegan advanced on her consciousness. Their desperate cries for help echoed through her psyche, and she saw visions of pain and torture that made her reel. She swayed in her saddle as a wave of torment seized her mind.

"Jadara!" shouted a concerned voice just as strong arms reached out to encircle her.

"So terrible," she whispered. "Their pain feels so real."

Adamen pulled her effortlessly from her horse and onto his saddle, tucking her into his chest. Jadara sighed with relief as the warmth of his body coursed through hers and she felt safe.

"That kind of sigh could give a man ideas, Princess," he said gruffly.

Jadara's response was to snuggle in closer to his heat, making him groan with masculine urges. His mind had already started to conjure up scenarios where he could show her exactly what effect her tiny body had on his. Jadara could feel for herself how her closeness affected him and was thankful he could not see her frenzied blush.

Roughier and Lambord came alongside the pair with expressions of concern.

"She rides with me!" barked Adamen. "Her horse can be set loose to find its way back." The scowl that accompanied this command made the older men nod in agreement. One look at the pale face of Jadara was enough to banish any possible argument on the matter.

* * * *

The ride progressed in silence. Jadara allowed the peace of slumber to overtake her, and the warriors were lost in their own thoughts of battle. At the sun's setting, Lambord called the small group to a halt. He dismounted and proceeded to share out their meagre rations. Adamen swung down from his horse with Jadara firmly in his arms. She awoke with a start and immediately struggled for release.

"I can walk," she protested, instantly aware of his body pressing into hers and the intimacy of the gesture.

Ignoring her completely, Adamen carried her towards her father, then went straight past him and into the trees.

"The princess will need to attend to herself," he snapped curtly in response to the puzzled looks of the older men. "I shall stand guard."

Roughier's face changed from bewildered to amused... until he observed the hard-set face of his king.

"An unfortunate complication," he mused. "Yet, a worthy mate and an uninitiated Passer."

Lambord's responding glare put an end to Roughier's observations.

In the wood, Adamen turned Jadara's face towards his with a gentle touch. He leaned in and caught her lips in a fierce embrace. Jadara's body responded instantly, and her lips opened to welcome his probing tongue. For long minutes they kissed, their bodies entwined. Jadara broke away to allow his lips to run down her extended neck.

"I have wanted to do that all day," he gasped, finally breaking his trail of seduction.

"Oh, Adamen," breathed Jadara as her frantic heartbeat slowly returned to normal. She traced the side of his chiselled jaw with and leaned forward to kiss his rough cheek. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, yet," he laughed. "I am delivering you to the lair of the most fearsome beast in Fellnesia. By my hand, you have been joined with them and now are their sole hope for survival. I think that I have been your very curse, not the hero I set out to be."

"But with you beside me I cannot fail," Jadara soothed.

Her innocent trust stirred a need in Adamen that his body responded to at once. He reached out and cupped her face whilst his hand slid expertly up her thigh. She gasped and tightened her hands on his back, encouraging him to be bold. His probing hand found the moist warmth that it had been seeking, and she responded, clawing deep into his back, urging him to roughly mate with her using his fingers as his shaft. She climaxed almost instantly, panting his name, shocked at her body's instantaneous reaction. He withdrew his fingers when the pulsing of her inner tunnel ceased, then replaced them with strong thrusts of his shaft. Almost as quickly as she, he reached his peak and spilled his seed deep inside her.

* * * *

Giggling like naughty children, they re-emerged from the dense wood as Lambord and Roughier were finishing their sparse repast. Wordlessly, Roughier handed them their small share and eyed the rose-like flush that adorned the princess's cheeks and neck. He busied himself with his bedroll, unwilling to intrude on the couple.

As they ate, Jadara stole shy glances at Adamen. He was certainly looking pleased with himself, and that knowledge brought a secret smile and further blush to her complexion.

That night she slept, firmly wrapped in the safe arms of her Passer. She awoke feeling refreshed and almost gay. Her spirits had lifted, and she relished a day of riding in the warm sunshine. The Awakening was swiftly moving into High Sun, a time for the bearing of fruit and child. The kin-folk of Fellnesia eagerly anticipated this time of life-giving gifts.

Jadara assisted the men in saddling up their mounts, then mounted Adamen's mighty steed, settling herself onto the dapple skin covering. Adamen swung up behind her, beaming with joy at the prospect of her proximity. He just could not get this witch out of his head and his decision to let her mare loose the previous day was fast becoming his most ingenious to date. The thought of a day spent with her body rising and falling against his own conjured images that he allowed himself to dwell on for more than a mere moment before Lambord's sharp command to move off interrupted his pleasant distraction.

Night was falling as the weary band arrived at the foot of the Fire Hills of Dargoon. They had come around the longer way to avoid detection by Greenflack's men who were stationed at various intervals all along the well-travelled pass. Adamen knew of a narrow path that led directly into the side of the mountain and had led them along this precarious route to the entrance; concealed by a rock formation that created a space just wide enough for the group to pass but narrow enough to seem like a natural crevice. They dismounted before soothing and securing their nervous horses.

Continuing on foot, Lambord entered the crevice first. The passageway glowed with an amber light that shone from the fiery depths of the mountain. The glow radiated out along the rocky caverns that were weaved in the rock like intertwining warrens. Jadara followed with Adamen behind, keeping a protective hand in the small of her back. Roughier came casting a scouting look around the vicinity before entering. Eyes quickly became accustomed to the smouldering glow as the group proceeded with a swift pace.

"Aghhh!" Jadara cried out. "We are near. I feel the torment." She had fallen to her knees with her hands clasped around her head, desperate to block out the painful cries that she was experiencing. Adamen tried to get alongside to comfort his she-mate, but the narrow corridor forbade it.

Jadara writhed in pain before crying out in a strangled voice, "She comes!"

Eyes closing, Jadara slumped forward, her head falling limply to her knees. There she remained, motionless.

Lambord paused. His instincts were sharp, and he too could sense the troubled souls ahead. The freegan were a noble race, and their sensitive souls were as much of a curse as a blessing. They absorbed the pain of their own kind so if one suffered, they all cried out. Jadara was now linked to the throbbing hurt of an entire species and her body, left frail from the possession, was paying the price.

Adamen roared in fury at his helplessness.

"Release her!" he cursed into the catacombs ahead.

"Peace, brother," soothed Roughier from behind. "The beasts hear your woes and feel our approach."

Lambord turned and lifted Jadara into his arms as if she were a child. He cradled her to him and placed his hand to her forehead. Moments passed before Jadara's eyes fluttered open. She observed the concerned faces hovering over her and managed a weak smile before struggling to extricate herself from her father's strong hold.

Adamen reached out to assist her, pulling her straight into his own fierce embrace. Unconcerned with the audience, he claimed her lips with a possessive growl.

Jadara instantly felt the now familiar heat coursing through her body and down into the place where she longed for him to enter. Her own lips answered his in an equally demanding fashion, and her small arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling to bring herself closer into his hard form. She too remained unconcerned about the other two warriors as passion dominated.

It was Adamen who pulled roughly away, his breathing heavy. His eyes glowed in the dim light as he saw the desire reflected in her chestnut irises. A swell of pure pleasure surged through his body by her response to him. He felt strangely content to just drink in the emotion in her gaze. Adamen, who had never pursued a she-mate, felt a grin spreading over his face. This maiden Air princess was really getting under his skin and it felt good. He had been with women, too many to count, but they had been distractions from the loneliness of his chosen calling. He barely recalled their names and their faces seemed to merge into one. These eyes that looked at him now, not only with raw passion but with even something more, could never be forgotten. He could no longer imagine his life without the ecstasy that he had felt when mating with Jadara. Just the thought of her responses to him made him hard with desire. Their wild coupling edged with soft caresses and featherlike kisses was new to him. His previous experience had been comprised of stolen looks across the campfire followed by a swift mating behind a nearby hut or wagon. Several rough thrusts had always been sufficient to satisfy his needs after long periods of abstinence.

"Ahem!" coughed Roughier. "When you have finished resuscitating the princess, can we move on?"

Roughier shoved Adamen playfully in the back and urged them back to the matter at hand. Lambord strode ahead, his muscles tense at the scene that he had just witnessed. Time was of the essence in getting the two together in the Primary Mate Festival, but so many other matters were more pressing. Lambord feared that it could be too late if Adamen was exposed to death in any upcoming conflicts. This operation alone was bound to cause some bloodshed and asking Adamen to stay away from battle was like asking the sun not to rise in the morning.

With her senses reeling, Jadara stumbled on, trying to match the pace of the furious warrior at the fore. The ground beneath her feet was uneven, shaped from rock that had been carved out by millennia of lava pouring through. Her mind whirled with images of Adamen's kiss, the freegan forgotten in the throes of her passion. She had caught a glimpse of something that troubled her in the eyes of The Passer. He had stared deep inside her, connecting with her very essence, and the feelings that she had tried to mask felt exposed and raw. She was in love with him. The shocking realisation hit her, and she stumbled once more.

She couldn't be. He was a Passer and could never truly be hers. Yet she yearned for him in body and spirit, never sated by their lovemaking alone, just craving more and more of his very presence.

"Jadara!" came a rough command from behind as she lost her footing for the umpteenth time. "Focus on your feet. Slide them along the floor, so you feel the crevices and grooves."

Meekly, Jadara obeyed, happy for the mindless task.

After several long hours of walking, they rounded into a cave reflecting the dancing patterns of fire on its smooth ceiling. Long stalagmites snaked up in intricate patterns, their jagged edges needle sharp.

"We are here," Jadara spoke with a calm certainty.

The trio of warriors stood around the elfin girl as an awesome beast came into view from the other side of the cavern. Its massive head bowed low as it paused in front of the group. Jadara looked straight into the eyes of her dreams, glassy black and brimming with the unshed tears of pain. Its orange and red scaled skin resembled the fire from which it came, and its mighty wings curled around its broad torso. Claws protruded from the giant bird-like feet and clacked on the smooth stone with a deafening echo. The chamber vibrated with a power that sent shivers down the backs of the mighty Passers. Their majesty paled in significance to the presence of this noble and ancient creature.

Instinctively, Jadara moved forward. She reached out a hand to touch the head that came towards her. Adamen moved to restrain her, but four strong hands gripped him and pulled him back.

"This is what we came for," whispered Lambord. "I sense no malice in this beast."

Adamen allowed himself to be restrained, moving his hand towards the hook sword that hung at his belt.

Jadara closed her eyes and allowed the contact, opening her thoughts to the freegan telepathy. In her mind's eye, she saw the freegan living at peace since the dawn of time. Their souls sang out harmonious melodies of creation and the beauty of each passing, bringing new life and hope to a growing world. The joy was soon replaced by anger and confusion. Her mind was filled with fear and burning. A pair of emerald eyes fixed on her.

"Come to me!" they taunted.

Jadara, sensing a new consciousness, tried to retreat. Her hand on the creature's head was paralysed. She could not break her hold on. A burning sensation filled her body as the freegan's bond to her faded. Her fear increased. Strong hands tried to break the connection. They failed. Jadara felt herself being drawn into a strange, new power, a power that threatened to consume her. In her vision a man's form emerged. It beckoned her with a rhythmic gesture. Her mind was captured. She could not break free. Distant voices called out her name, urgently striving to bring her back. Through a fog-like haze, the figure came closer until it reached out its hand. Coldness flooded her mind now. The figure began to dissipate. All that remained were the penetrating eyes.

"Jadara, find me. The freegan will remain here, imprisoned, until you come. Their freedom will be assured if you journey alone."

"Greenflack!" she cried. "I will come."

Adamen pulled franticly at the motionless freegan, threatening its life, roaring out his desperation. His shout reverberated around the glistening grotto. Not Lambord or Roughier combined could stop him this time. Hook sword drawn, he faced the freegan ready to strike, desperate to break the connection.

With a cry of anguish, Jadara fell to her knees. Her cheeks were stained with tears. She leant against the beast before her and sobbed. Her mind was calmed by the returning melodies of creation as the freegan soothed the ache in her heart.

"Sorry, princess," it lamented. "Greenflack has my kin. I am the last remaining of my kind here in Fire Mountain. He used our minds to reach you. Now you must go to him and free us. We are dying. You are our last remaining hope."

Silence followed as Jadara struggled to her feet. Three pairs of arms reached for her as she collapsed, her knees no longer able to support her frame. The freegan backed sorrowfully out of the cave, its tar-like eyes never leaving the warm brown eyes of Jadara. She gave a slight nod as it disappeared from view. This time, it was Lambord that made to give chase, his weapon drawn, and a snarl of rage etched on his weathered features.

"Peace, Father," she said reassuringly. "I am well. The connection is past. The freegan have left my mind." Her eyes lowered with her deception, her very being aching for comfort from these fine men but knowing that the burden was her destiny and hers alone.

"Where is Greenflack?" demanded Adamen, still pacing the cave with frustration.

"He has the freegan," she responded. "He bends them to his will and uses their honesty against them. His power has grown strong. He extracts it from the creatures in his captivity. They are dying. We must return and muster our forces."

Jadara knew that fighting talk would distract The Passers. She planned to return with them to Holesbane then complete her journey alone. She had known from the start that her path was a solitary one yet she had not predicted the love that she would come to feel for her companions. She knew what she had to do, but it was not a task that she relished.

* * * *

Lambord hastened a retreat whilst Adamen searched Jadara's face for the truth. He knew this female and had a sense of her unease. Her clever distraction may have fooled her war-focused father, but Adamen was determined to extract more information about her encounter. They had all heard her cry the name 'Greenflack,' but he had sensed that she called out in recognition. How she recognised him, he was unsure but he was looking forward to the way he intended to find out. A hungry smile lit his eyes as his gaze settled on the barely concealed curves beneath Jadara's garments.

* * * *

As the group departed from the Fire Hills of Dargoon, Jadara listened to the tales spun by Roughier, his mood lightened by the seemingly safe return of his ward. He told of freegan and men and how the world they knew had come to be. Jadara, puzzled by much of what she had learnt on her journey, questioned him.

"If the freegan are a peaceful race, integral in the creation of Fellnesia, how were they baited and fought in the name of sport? You yourself bragged about the defeat of one such creature in your quest to become a Passer."

Roughier looked shamefaced at the accusation. "Some were reared as playthings for the frivolity of men," he admitted. "I am pleased to say that Lambord's reign ended such occurrences. I take great shame in my part of their misunderstood history."

Jadara's smile attempted to reassure. "We all have a shame to live with," she sighed.

A sharply indrawn breath caused her to start. Adamen's hands gripped her waist and all but flung her towards the older Passer.

"You two seem so fixated on one another's shame, perhaps you should console each other more personally."

Leaving her bereft upon Roughier's steed, he galloped ahead to consult with Lambord. Jadara reeled. She perched uncomfortably on the front of the new mount, loathe to recreate the intimate position of her ride with Adamen.

"Ignore his hotheadedness, lass," Roughier counselled. "He is feeling all flammersied and knows not what he means."

Jadara's anger seethed. That man had the audacity to mate with her then cast her off without a thought.

I'll show him, she fumed inwardly. If he thinks he can just take me whenever he pleases then discard me, he can think again.

* * * *

Up ahead, Adamen's stomach churned with equal fury.

Shame is it? he thought. Am I not worthy of a princess? She'll see. I can live quite happily without that kind of trouble.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the small band as they made their way back to the gathering forces of Fellnesia.

* * * *

The fields surrounding Holesbane were strewn with makeshift shelters and tents. Air, Water and Earth kins merged together, united against the oppressive might of Greenflack. Jadara sat atop a grassy hillock and surveyed the activity below. Male and female alike had responded to the war cry and their bravest warriors joined the ranks. Lambord mingled among the army, greeting each in their customary embrace. He knew their leaders by name and welcomed each as kin. Jadara looked upon the scene with a heavy heart. All of these people ready to take up arms, ready to surrender their lives, yet hers alone was the life that was required for sacrifice. She stood up, brushing the grass from her gown and turned, with a determined air, towards the dense forest that lay beyond.

Battle Looms

Under the fabric of temporarily constructed dwellings, battle plans were being drawn. As The Passer king, Lambord had the dubious honour of having the highest rank. He abhorred battle and had devoted his reign to maintaining peace through constant tours of the land. His men had once dwelt in a fortress just south of the Fire Hills, a majestic place that served as a home and training facility for newly initiated Passers. Here they had lived as brothers, refining their battle skills and schooling their minds to awaken to the pitiful cry of the passing soul.

It was in this revered place that Lambord had been tutored. He had thrived in the peaceful ambiance yet longed for the adventures that could be had throughout Fellnesia. His own father had taken the most active role in his guidance, tutoring him in both sword skills and strategic planning as a future leader. At the rise of Greenflack and the ensuing slaughter of many of his best men, he had embarked on a ruthless campaign to ride from hamlet to hamlet protecting kin from further attack. The fortress had fallen to ruins as his quest for justice had changed the nature of his calling from monastic advisor to fearsome warrior. It had also served to build many alliances which had now been called upon.

Throughout the surrounding fields, scores of shelters housed these collaborators. They would ride as one to assault the enemy, drawing them from the sanctuary of their defences. Greenflack had made a disastrous error in his choice of location, selecting the very hub that Lambord knew so intimately. He had honed his skills as boy and man on the grassy plains beyond the once mighty fortress of Zergain.

Lambord now sat, deep in conversation with kin chiefs from far and wide. Green eyes met blue which gazed at brown with unease, mistrust and open hostility. Lambord sighed heavily. He now knew the force that they faced and the power that Greenflack had amassed. The freegan had unnerved him. Their ability to penetrate the mind of his child had shaken even him.

"Begin, Passer," a stern voice commanded. "Why have you brought us here, beyond our Element? Why would you call on the good will of so many to defeat one man?"

The speaker was Rivain of Great Hallows, a tall woman with snow-white hair. Steely blue eyes challenged Lambord with the calm authority of one who is accustomed to obedience.

Lambord looked at the ensemble. High-ranking kin from all corners of Fellnesia had gathered to offer him their support. He owed them the truth.

"Peace to your kin," he began earnestly. "I have sent a call for all to respond, a call to all of Fellnesia. The Change has come. The Change is a girl, a princess, and the rightful queen of Jadehollow.

"She is my offspring. Her mother was Fernella, sired by the late king of Jadehollow. She escaped and was secured in Turonia. The child was born of Air and Earth. She lived with Water and they claim her as their own.

"She is the child of the three which was foretold by The Dolchie to each of your kin at the first light of the Elements. The stories passed down from fireside to fireside throughout the ages and throughout the land. She is one with the freegan. I have seen it with my own eyes. She glows with the silver gift of The Dolchie.

"I fight for her, for her destiny, her birthright and the world to come. I urge you to fight with me as friends, as kin, as Fellnesians."

The silence that followed made Lambord doubt his own heart. He was sure that these people would heed his words and rise up with him to conquer the injustice that beset the land. Then, one by one, the kin chiefs in the room joined hands. They clasped firmly, pledging allegiance to the cause. Each then departed to rally their own troops, ready for the dawn raid on Greenflack's defences.

The space became quiet and still. Then Lambord could hear a wave of excitement infiltrating the camp. Voices were raised as each kin rallied their support to join the cause. Rumours that The Change was imminent fuelled the fires of determination.

Lambord allowed himself a moment of serenity. He could, at last, protect his own kin. He could right the wrongs of not saving Jadehollow the first time he had the chance. Even now, he found it challenging to accept his own fate and the part he had played in the events that had transpired. Without him, Greenflack would not be wielding the power he was, yet neither would Jadara have been sired. He closed his eyes and tried once more to be at one with the will of destiny.

A small cough broke his musings.

"Ahem! Sire, news of Jadara. She has gone."

"What do you mean gone? Gone where? Check with Adamen. He is like her shadow."

"He awaits you outside, sire. She has left tracks through the forest. She moved fast and was headed to the fortress of Zergain," said the young messenger, tripping in his haste to exit the fabric structure before the mighty warrior tore it down in pursuit of his offspring.

"Damn!" cursed Lambord, meeting the determined brown eyes that entered the fabric dwelling.

Face to Face

As soon as Jadara reached the cover of trees she started to run. Snaking through the thick trunks, she sprinted until her heart felt like it would explode from her chest. Still she ran.

Her head pounded as the cold air rushed through her tangled thoughts. Her mind had not felt like her own for too many long days. Thoughts of freegan, Greenflack, Adamen, Thanly and home dissolved one by one. Jadara had the feeling of freedom, a blessed release. Still she ran.

Entering a large clearing, she finally paused. Head bent down towards her knees, she gulped lungfuls of air. A large grin spread inadvertently across her face. She'd missed that feeling.

Standing straight, Jadara surveyed her surroundings. Trees thinned out as a large stone structure loomed up about a league ahead. It was run-down and crumbling now but had obviously been a mighty fortress in its time. Jadara felt a pull towards it. She knew at once that this was the place that housed her fate. Greenflack dwelt within. As she allowed her mind to accept his name, his forceful will re-entered her consciousness.

"Wait!" the rasping voice was back deep inside her head.

Jadara was no longer sure who spoke; freegan or man or a combination of both. She was angered at the audacity of whoever this was to force his thoughts into her mind uninvited. Her hand closed on her weapon with a tight squeeze.

"He'll pay for that and so much more," she vowed.

Jadara took a deep breath and drew up her shoulders in a determined gesture. She'd come this far. Now was the time to end this war.

A swirling mist curled around the trees from the direction of the ruin. It entwined around the solid trunks of the towering earks and laced around Jadara's ankles, spreading slowly upwards. A dank smell of moist leaves accompanied the fog. Jadara tried without success to keep her eyes fixed on the dwelling in front of her. She knew how lost one could get in a haze like this.

As she stared, a ghostly figure emerged. The dark silhouette stood out from the white mist. It was getting closer. Jadara drew her sword in a flash and she stood poised for attack. The shape, now clearly defined as a tall male, stopped.

"Peace," came the customary greeting.

"Thanly?" Jadara could hardly believe her own eyes. Was this another mind trick played by her enemy? "Thanly, is it really you?"

"Jadara." Thanly stepped closer now, his features becoming clearer with each step.

Face to face, the childhood friends regarded one another. Jadara paled, her eyes filling with tears.

"Thanly!" she finally cried, pulling him into a warm embrace. "You're alive!"

Thanly stood statue still, allowing the small arms to fall awkwardly away.

"You will follow me," Thanly ordered in a voice devoid of emotion. "Greenflack awaits."

"I don't think so," fumed the slighted princess, rage boiling up within her. "First, you will tell me how and why you betrayed me. I thought we were friends," she sobbed.

"And I thought we would become Primary Mates." Thanly spoke in a voice laced with spite. "Until you went with him. I came to find you, you know. That day in Fardaria. You'd been with him, not me."

"Thanly... I..."

"What is past is past," he said. "I made my choice. Now I bring you to face Greenflack. He bids you welcome."

"Welcome?" spluttered Jadara. "He wants me dead."

Thanly shrugged. "He means to speak with you first."

"And your family," continued Jadara. "What news of them?"

For a moment, a softening came over Thanly. His eyes became warm, and he looked towards the trees as if remembering. "They are well," he spoke quietly. "For now. But please, hurry. Greenflack does not like to be kept waiting."

Jadara trotted in the wake of the striding figure before her. She tried to prise further information from him on the way but was met with a wall of morose silence.

As the trees thinned out, the ground became rocky. Large boulders had to be navigated, and the pair focussed their attention on the task of remaining upright. Jadara twisted her ankle several times. Refusing to cry out, she contented herself with channelling her pain into her building fury. Determined to be prepared for the confrontation, Jadara searched her memories for clues that might help her. She relived the past few weeks, replaying conversations, stories and experiences for any nugget of hope. Dolchies, freegan, kin-folk and Passers raced through her mind with alarming speed. Naked trysts and the feeling of a strong embrace nudged their way into each memory. The warm eyes of the man she'd grown to love and trust lingered the longest.

Adamen, she spoke quietly as her soul reached out to its mate, I'm sorry.

The gates of the fragmented dwelling seemed surprisingly intact as Thanly rapped on their wooden panels. A bearded warrior swung open the entrance and stared lustfully at Jadara.

"Well, this is a bit more like it," he growled, moving towards Jadara with a toothless smile. He wheezed his rancid breath across her cheek, spittle dancing at the corners of his mouth. "In there all we got is fat females and little girls." He gestured towards the main dwelling with a sharp spear as he spoke.

Thanly stepped between the warrior and Jadara, a look of hatred on his face.

"She is not to be touched!" he commanded. "She is Princess Jadara of the Air Element and is Greenflack's guest."

"Changed his tastes, has he?" continued the man, unperturbed by Thanly's show of authority. "Not really got enough for his Lordship, if you know what I's meaning."

The man then proceeded to flounce around, pulling his shirt out to indicate large breasts. "Likes a bit more up top, he does," he guffawed.

Thanly pulled Jadara by the arm and indicated a short staircase where a man stood, observing the fracas with disdain. Greenflack. His glassy green eyes pierced her warm brown ones as they met face to face for the first time.

Greenflack masked his shock at the power that emanated from this Passer abomination. He could see the amber glow that surrounded her and the silver flecks that radiated from her soul. The Dolchie had left its mark on her, and her union with the freegan had caused her essence to burn with the fire of their home. Greenflack quickly concluded that she had no awareness of this aura or its potential for magic. He thrilled at the prospect of absorbing it when he killed her. His hand twitched, as he considered ending it now, and he was filled with an exhilaration like none he had ever felt before. Regaining control, he stepped forward to greet his guest.

"Greenflack," he said with a bow. "Kin to you through your grandfather, the king of Jadehollow."

"Jadara," she said in return to the formal greeting. "Kin to you through my grandfather, the king of Jadehollow, and my mother, Fernella, rightful ruler by the bloodline," she said, signifying her displeasure by insulting the family ties of this pretender.

Greenflack started at her claim; then a cruel smile curved across his face.

"So like your royal kin-folk," he insulted. "So mighty. Yet you are all that remain. Do you now challenge me?"

"I do," Jadara replied simply.

"Let us talk inside."

Jadara calmly followed, searching Thanly's face for a sign of loyalty.

"You will find no ally there," mocked Greenflack, seeing the hope fade from Jadara's expression. "As will be the case with any of my men. I own them. I own their families. And you would be surprised what some people would do for their families, cousin." He added the last word as an insult.

"Even as we speak," said Jadara passionately, "thousands of warriors unite to storm your defences. You will not win this day."

Greenflack laughed with contempt. "I can destroy those troops anytime I wish. I can knock them to the ground with one flight of the loyal freegan. My power is more than your puny army can withstand. If you surrender, this battle need never be fought. If you do not, the killing is on your head, not mine. They fight for you, Jadara. You will bring about the deaths of those people. I have already won. I rule this land and all in it. You are powerless here."

Jadara retched at his words. They rang so true. She had come to end this. Her destiny lay here. If she submitted now, all would be well.

Her eyes took in the room. Her gaze landed on a whimpering child in the corner. Jadara made to attend her.

"Leave her be," Greenflack said, halting her. "She does not concern you."

Ignoring his authoritative tone, Jadara moved towards the trembling child. She crouched down low and laid her hand gently on the thin shoulder.

"Peace, child," she soothed. "I won't hurt you. Are you injured? Has anyone touched you?"

The girl shook her head as tears filled her eyes. "My kin," she sniffed. "They burned my hamlet and took me away." Green eyes brimming with unshed tears looked up at Jadara. "My sire, they watched him burn. Mama screamed when they took me away."

Jadara turned towards Greenflack, the spell of his earlier words broken.

"Is this what you call ruling? You rule by fear and death. The land has been destroyed by your flame and poison. You are a scourge on Fellnesia. I will not submit to you. I will stand and fight you with my last breath."

"So be it, Princess," Greenflack said with a bored expression. He had had quite enough of this she-mate now and yearned to be rid of her. Claiming her power was all he now desired but he would have to connect with the freegan to discover how. "She may get to know our guest a little better," he said to Thanly. "Restrain her here until I return."

Thanly linked the chains around Jadara's wrists and ankles, pulling tightly before securing them. As a result, her hands were bent at an uncomfortable angle. She was sure she saw a gleam of pleasure in the eyes of her jailer as he secured the last bolt.

"Thanly," pleaded Jadara. "Where is my friend in there?"

"Friend!" scoffed Thanly once again, as his foot met her side in a sharp kick.

His footsteps died away as Jadara faced the terrified girl. She attempted a smile before beginning a series of quick questions. Unsure of how long she would have to ascertain the facts from the girl, Jadara got straight to the point.

"Where are you from?"

"My kin are from Jadehollow," replied the girl. "I am sired by Grewran. I am Verdily. My father was the son of Oakina. Her Primary Mate was the king who Greenflack replaced. Oakina mated again but not for life, so my father was the product. He could never claim leadership as he had no birthright, but he defied Greenflack at every turn. Eventually, he was taken and burned for all to see. And Greenflack took me to ensure their compliance. I hear many things here. I know where his power is coming from."

Jadara smiled kindly, urging the girl to continue.

"He began to hunt the Dolchie, offering handsome riches to those who would betray them. Distrust of the Dolchie and the promise of wealth caused many to show disloyalty. One by one, they were brought here. They never left," she said sadly. "Their souls left traces on Greenflack and he absorbed their energy. He is as a Passer now. He claims the souls but will not release them. They have been stored within him, feeding him power beyond any mortal man. He is tormented by their screams. I hear his dreams." Verdily shuddered at the memory of his mournful cries emanating from his bedchamber and the silver sparks that lit the dark night.

"What about the freegan?" Jadara persisted. "Where are the freegan?"

"Even now, they dwell beneath us," Verdily glanced down at the earthy floor. "Their call echoes through the earth. They long to return to their home, their fire. They are dying."

Jadara tried to make sense of all she had heard before the return of her foe.

"How does he control them?" she asked urgently.

"That I do not understand," she sobbed. "It is forbidden to ask about The Passers. I know not what manner of man he has become."

Jadara soothed the child with comforting words. Her mind raced at the knowledge she had gained. If he had reached the freegan somehow, maybe she could too. Maybe she could release them from his will and end his reign of terror.

The Dolchies were another matter. How could their power pass to him? Lambord and Roughier had not spoken of this, but they had never killed a Dolchie or had a foretelling from one. What if she had absorbed some power too?

She had also linked with the freegan. They had sought out her soul. It had been them and them alone, long before Greenflack had intruded into her mind. If Greenflack could harness the power, maybe she could too?

The soft snorts of the girl beside her indicated her slumber. Jadara set to work searching her mind and trying to sense the presence of something, anything that could aid her. She pleaded with her inner thoughts for help.

Now they've all left me! she mused, maintaining a wry humour.

Exhausted and ready to dream, Jadara fell onto the sacking underneath her and prepared to let her body succumb to sleep. At the edge of her mind, in the place between awakening and dreams, a lingering force seemed to lurk. It waited to be noticed then seemed to fill her mind with its noble charisma. Jadara smiled in weary recognition.

"Freegan," she mumbled.

The familiar songs of creation soothed her troubled mind as the last free beast joined his will to hers. Jadara listened as if in a trance to the songs of peace and wellbeing. The songs repeated, growing in intensity as the words formed into a coherent voice.

"Jadara," it coaxed. "Your time has come. You must be strong. The girl has told you well. She is your kin, joined to you by Oakina. Her heart is strong and her senses alert. You will know what to do when the time comes. Trust in your thoughts and act upon them for they will guide you. Greenflack lusts for your power. Even now, he plots to take it. He has the souls of the Dolchie trapped within him, and he can take your soul too. Protect it, Jadara. You have the soul of time itself, and you are the Change. It has always been you. Peace now, Princess."

The songs reverberated throughout Jadara's dreams as she rested in tranquillity.

Ride to Victory

Adamen was livid. He had been in favour of riding out as soon as her disappearance was noticed. Lambord had other ideas. He had ordered Adamen to wait. They were orders Adamen could not disobey despite every pore of his being longing to ride off and decapitate the bastard who had taken his Jadara. His entire body yearned for her. His sleep, what little there had been, had been peppered with visions of her naked form riding him. He saw her above him, lowering herself teasingly down his hard length then laughingly rising up again in sweet torment. His dream then blurred, and a broken body lay spread eagle over his. Jadara's lifeless eyes stared at him. Her soul lost forever. Adamen had roared out in raw pain, bringing Roughier running.

He now paced up and down the stable block, single-handedly trying to saddle the horses for the entire army. Lambord's giant frame momentarily blocked the doorway, extinguishing the light of dawn. Roughier followed him in, and together they regarded the distraught warrior before them.

"He won't harm her, yet," Lambord said. "She is too valuable. He wants her for something, but I know not what. Her death will gain him nothing. We have time. We must strike and make it count. End this reign of terror. It is what we came to do. We must not deviate from the plan. He will be expecting us to strike soon. He will not be expecting the size of the warriors we have marching with us. The advantage is ours. She remains safe. This I know."

"My Lord, you ask too much," Adamen said. "I must go to her. Our destinies are now as one. We are joined, and her soul calls out to me. She is in more danger than we could ever imagine. Revoke your order and let me go to her."

Lambord looked into the eyes of his friend. This Passer was as kin to him yet the girl was his kin. He blinked and recalled a pair of warm jade eyes looking into his with unwavering trust. This destiny was no longer his to control. His hold was ending. The Change was near.

"With my peace." He nodded his consent.

Adamen swung onto his horse and let out a murderous cry. His insides sung at the release of the tension in his limbs. This was what he'd been born to do. He would rescue Jadara and tell her. For a second he balked then a slow grin spread across his handsome face. He'd tell her he loved her.

* * * *

A sharp kick to her side ended her peaceful dreams. Jadara sat up with a start. Emerald green eyes stared, inches from her face.

"Well, well, Princess. I trust you are rested?"

A cup of foul smelling water and a slice of bread that was covered in a cotton-like mould was pushed before her.

"Eat up!" commanded Greenflack, pacing away across the room then back again, seemingly restless.

In truth, he had been pacing since the early light woke him from slumber. Not even the softness of his maid's ample flesh could distract him from his purpose. After visiting the freegan who dwelt below the fortress, he had formulated a plan to gain Jadara's power for himself. Time was short as the warriors who protected this Air and Passer abomination were sure to have noticed her absence.

He had been enlightened by the freegan that her soul had already left her body once at a time of near death. This meant that it would be more easily taken. The Dolchie essence within him concurred with this theory. He would need to get her to the point of death whilst being free to absorb her throbbing power. Even now, in the day's early light, he could see an amber glow surrounding her.

The child sees it too! He suddenly realised, his eyes drawn to the young girl who stared with awe at the princess before her.

His need for the young prisoner was superfluous now. She could be disposed of. He called out for his latest recruit and smiled with satisfaction as Thanly stepped into the room on cue.

"Take this girl out and do as you please with her," he said with an absent-minded wave of his hand. "I have no further use for her. Cut out her tongue and give her to the guards. They may be in need of a distraction."

"Noooo!" yelled Jadara, struggling to stand. Her side ached from the well-delivered kick. "Take me. I will go in her place."

Greenflack laughed. "You, I need," he said. "Take her as I ordered. Why do you wait? Am I not the Lord here?"

Thanly walked forward and unshackled the trembling girl. He dragged her across the floor, half carrying her weakened frame.

"Thanly, please," implored Jadara. "Thanly!" she called after his disappearing silhouette.

Salty tears slid down her cheeks in vain. Greenflack watched, unmoved by her compassion. He disposed of what he no longer needed. It was how he maintained control. If people continued to be of use, their lives and those of their families were spared.

Jadara looked at him with her eyes full of hatred.

"You are despicable!" she said scornfully.

"I am," he agreed. "Now on to the business at hand. I intend to take you to meet my allies. My pets, if you will. They will assist me in harnessing your power. Then I will dispose of you and return to Jadehollow as the ruler of all Fellnesia."

Jadara looked at him astounded. "You are insane! I have no power. I am just a descendant of the family you murdered in cold-blood. I have come to take back my birthright and destroy you."

Jadara stopped, breathing heavily. She had certainly sounded braver than she felt right now, all alone and up against this merciless killer. Why had she come here alone?

Greenflack shook, his shoulders hunched over. Suddenly, his loud shout of mirth filled the room, reverberating from the rafters.

"My, what spirit!" he jeered. "You have power, Princess. It seeps from your every pore. It is not just the Dolchie foretelling your future that leaves a trace, but you have more, so much more. I can feel it in here."

With that, Greenflack slipped off his tunic revealing markings of pure silver criss-crossed over his body. They pulsed like liquid mercury, running under his pale skin like a life force.

"Passer, I am," he roared. "For I have the very souls of The Dolchie in here. They live in me, awaiting their final resting place, a place they will never see!" he said with a laugh bordering on insanity. "Oh, they know. They know and pulse inside me, screaming to my soul to release them, but I am the Lord. I am the Master, and I am in control!"

Jadara baulked at the ravings of this man. "You are no Passer," she challenged. "Passers strive for good and recreate the noble art from the mighty freegan race. Their task is one of honour not greed. They strive to release souls, and their markings are a sign of respect. Yours are a reminder of your abuse. They eat you up from the inside out."

"Silence!" shrieked Greenflack. "You will accompany me to the dungeons to meet your final resting place. In me!" he added with glee.

Jadara shuddered as the realisation of his plan enfolded. How could the freegan prevent that, she wondered.

Still bound, she was pushed ruthlessly down a set of stone steps, down into a dank, dark space. The smell overpowered her, and she leaned over, heaving from her core. An empty sound came from her mouth as no food had passed her lips since arriving the day before.

Just as they disappeared from view, a heavy thud followed by another came from the direction of the sentries at the gate. A large shadow moved across the courtyard and towards the dark passage that led down.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, Jadara could just make out large shapes lined up along a long wall. They resembled mighty boulders yet an orange glow emanated from their direction.

"Why have we come here?" asked Jadara. "What can these creatures do? They are dying. I feel their pain."

"Yes," agreed Greenflack. "They die and I will absorb them. I will take on their souls and be the very heartbeat of the land. You will help me. You are linked to them. It's how I found you at the Fire Hills of Dargoon. I can only force my will on to them by touch. When I have your power, I will control them from anywhere I am. Then, as they perish, I will add their souls to mine and be more powerful than anyone has ever been. The time of The Change is at hand. I am The Change. The land will bow down to me!"

Greenflack reached out a hand to the nearest shape. As he made contact with its flesh, a cry rang out through Jadara's mind. A cry so sad, it brought tears to her eyes.

"You're hurting them," she sobbed.

Greenflack's eyes narrowed. He surveyed her suspiciously. "You hear them now?" he queried.

Devastated by her impetuousness, Jadara faced him and stood tall. She was about to speak, but a voice within her took over. Greenflack could only stare as the silver specks that he had observed around Jadara converged to create a shell of metallic armour, protecting her.

"I hear them," she challenged in a voice from far away, a voice that Greenflack recognised from a time long past yet not forgotten, despite his best effort to erase the memory with murder. It was not the voice of Jadara, more a rasping whisper, hardly louder than a puff of wind on the still air.

"Dolchie," Greenflack named the sound.

"Greenflack, you will release them or suffer the consequences. War is at hand and you will be defeated. You have drawn power from these freegan at your peril. Your frail mind cannot comprehend their age and majesty. Your soul will be the price you pay. You did not heed us when first we spoke. Heed us now!"

Jadara's vision was blurred with a silver glow that seemed to emanate from her body. The man who stared at her now appeared terrified.

Recovering from his daze, Greenflack reached for his weapon. He was afraid of the power he had just witnessed and cursed himself for his delay. Bringing Jadara down here had awakened her link to the freegan and to the Dolchie presence that lingered in her. Those words were echoes of his own Dolchie encounter. They had haunted him his whole life, and now they'd caught up with him. But he was ready.

His whole life had led to this moment. He was The Change. He had believed it for so long now that doubt was not an option. He raised his sword bow and struck her.

Greenflack's blade sunk straight into Jadara's body, sending a shot of pain up to her mind and into her very soul. She heard the cries of the freegan and The Dolchie from within her. They called to her, warning her to be ready.

Adamen stepped forward. He towered above the slumped form of Jadara. Bending, he lay his hand on her arm.

"This soul will never be yours!" he shouted. Suddenly, a large rock came barrelling down, knocking Adamen on the head and sending him sprawling to the floor beside Jadara.

"Adamen," she managed a weak smile. "You came."

Thanly stepped over the pair of crumpled bodies and dragged Jadara's towards the awaiting freegan.

"No!" Adamen struggled to his feet, only to be gripped in the vice-like arms of two guards.

Jadara was roughly pulled to her feet and stood inches from Greenflack.

"At last," he said. "I will have your soul and those within you."

He reached out to lay his hand on her bare arm. Slowly a snake-like pattern began to dance up his arm, twisting and weaving into an intricate design that began to resemble that on Adamen's skin, the pattern that had appeared when he'd held Jadara's soul. Eyes wide with the sensation, Greenflack gasped with a strangled ecstasy.

In the still of her mind, Jadara felt her soul draining away. She strove to hold onto herself but was too weak to resist. At the edge of her consciousness, a familiar friend lurked.

"It is time, Princess," it said calmly. "The collective essence of the freegan will enter you. Do not be afraid. We will use you merely as a bridge to destroy the poison that contaminates our land. You must call Adamen. He is a Passer. Only he can save you now. His soul is already linked to yours. He will feel the loss of you deep within him. Call to him. Call on his last remnants of strength for his part in this story that was foretold."

She obeyed at once. "Adamen," she said. "Adamen, he takes my soul."

Adamen jolted upwards. He knew she was right. He could feel her leaving him. With an animal cry, he flung off the two burly captors and rushed forward.

Greenflack stood unable to move as he absorbed more and more of Jadara's soul. He drew strength from the freegan that he remained linked to with his left hand.

Thanly stepped forward, keen to protect his Master. Adamen, who had no time for this miserable youth, drew his sword and sliced through Thanly like a knife through butter. He reached Jadara and grabbed her other arm. As he did, he noticed the freegan behind Greenflack turn its head slowly around.

What happened next caused a blinding light and a scream that haunted the sleep of Adamen for the rest of his days.

The freegan made their move. They entered Greenflack both from Jadara and from the freegan he held. They raged a war on his soul, filling it with the collected souls of time itself. The Dolchie within him assaulted his mind, pouring out their wrath at the imprisonment of their spirits for so long. Unable to cope with this barrage of so many psyches, Greenflack's body began to crumble. He grew still. The force of the blast emanating from his core turned his skin ashen and grey. It turned to dust and blew away.

The freegan cried out in victory, free at last to return to their fiery abode.

Adamen held fast. His grip never loosened yet he felt no sign of life from Jadara. The silver aura had faded, just specks of light danced around her head, remnants of the explosion. Adamen's arm was blank again. He stared down at his unstained flesh in disbelief.

This can't be, he thought, cursing inwardly. To come this far then to fail at the last.

Unwilling to release her, Adamen sat in the silent cellar his eyes fixed on the dancing lights. They mesmerised him, swirling so meaningfully. He watched in awe as they weaved into a pattern, a pattern he knew so well.

"Jadara," he breathed. His breath caught in his throat, and he held it there afraid to release it and banish the soul that moved around him. For the first time since being a boy, he was scared. He held the frail arm and waited.

The swirling lights skittered towards Jadara's body, framing her face. They seemed to merge as one, taking the form of her dainty features. Almost as a mask, they set, moved closer to her skin then disappeared.

As soon as they vanished, Adamen felt a burning in his hand. It spread slowly into his arm, moving upwards like molten veins. Staring in horror, Adamen saw his arm pulsing with silver threads. They quickly transformed into intricate patterns and stopped. Adamen felt the souls, so different from when Jadara's had entered him. These felt cold and lost. They cried out in his mind and begged for release. Adamen felt the pain of the curse of their foretelling and the desire for final peace. He was a Passer. He knew his duty. These souls had sought him out, and he would carry them to their resting place.

A small whimper brought his attention back to the scene before him. Jadara coughed and opened one eye.

"Is he...?"

"He is," replied Adamen firmly. "It is over, Princess. You have restored the peace of this land, freed the freegan and saved the souls of The Dolchie."

"I may have had a little help." Jadara smiled and closed her eyes, responding to the hand that still gripped hers with a squeeze.

With his last remaining strength, Adamen lifted Jadara and staggered up the stone steps. As his eyes became accustomed to the glare of the day, he became aware of the approaching bulk of two warriors.

"Not now," he groaned, instinctively reaching for a blade.

"Well, if that's the thanks we get for coming to your rescue!" jeered a familiar voice.

"Roughier!" Adamen gasped, never so relieved to see his friend.

"Peace, brother," greeted Lambord in a more formal fashion.

A murmur of recognition emanated from Jadara, causing the two men to exchange thankful glances.

As they stood, taking in the magnitude of their victory, a small figure emerged from behind Roughier's back and rushed towards Jadara.

"Jadara!" she cried, large tears springing to her clear green eyes.

"Verdily."

"I found this one running through the battlefield," explained Roughier. "It seems Thanly had a last minute attack of conscience and let her go. She was running back to Jadehollow," he said with a chuckle.

Adamen let his eyes wander around the surrounding plains beyond the fortress. Bodies lay scattered, and the sickly odour of blood filled his nostrils.

"Quite a rescue," he observed dryly.

Lambord took charge of Jadara as Roughier led Adamen to his mount. The girl stayed close to Jadara, clasping her hand and gazing up at the tattooed men with wide eyes.

The weary party made their way slowly back to the hamlet of Holesbane. It would be a time to count the losses and mourn those who had passed. The new day would bring the victory celebrations and the crowning of a Queen.

A New World

Jadara's eyes fluttered open. Her limbs felt heavy and her head pounded. All around her sounds of merriment filled the air. She smelled the musty fragrance of a fabric dwelling and looked up to see a cloth roof suspended between wooden poles. She knew that she was away from the dank dungeon, away from Greenflack and from the torment that had racked her very being. Jadara lay still. Suddenly she was aware of heavy breathing and the faint growl of deep sleep. Jadara froze, her senses trying to decipher the presence. Her hand reached for a weapon, anything to cause damage. Gradually, the odour infused her mind. It had become so familiar to her. It was an odour that reeked of maleness, of passion and of love. Adamen.

As if aware of her consciousness, Adamen opened one sleepy eye and reached out his bronzed arm to cup her cheek. The intimacy of his gesture caused a shiver to reverberate around Jadara's small body. She looked down at his muscled arm then gasped as she saw the intricate silver swirls weaving around his arms and up across his chest. Her fingers lightly traced the lines and followed them up his arm, across his shoulder and onto the front of his torso.

"Dolchie," she whispered. "They passed into you."

He nodded grimly. "And I will pass them on again when the time is right. They will have their peace now. Thanks to you," Adamen acknowledged, as his finger gently stroked her jaw.

His eyes flooded with an emotion that seemed to be raw pain. Jadara's face creased in a frown.

"What?" she asked. "What has happened? Is it the freegan? What of them?"

Adamen reassured her quickly. "The freegan are safe. They have returned to the Fire Hills of Dargoon. It is I, Jadara. I have absorbed the souls of the Dolchie. I am a Passer at last."

Jadara smiled. "But that is good news indeed. You have all the qualities and now you have carried souls to their resting place. What can be saddening you?"

Adamen looked into the trusting eyes before him, eyes that glowed with pride in his confession. He saw the love that he felt reflected back at him and winced as he explained.

"You and I can never be now. Passers are forbidden to have a Primary Mate. They may have no earthly ties. Their souls must remain free, not tied to another mortal. In freeing the Dolchie, I have cursed our love."

Adamen watched as the implications of his actions dawned on Jadara. "Many have died for this cause," he explained. "I have come to say farewell. There is much to be done. You will proceed to Jadehollow where you will take up your rightful place as ruler and I will ride with Lambord once more. My duty is clear."

Eye to eye, the lovers regarded one another. Their gazes flitted from hurt to passion then to the blank resignation of the truth. Adamen's hand continued to caress Jadara's soft cheek, his mind racing with desire and desperation. He would have liked nothing more than to take her in his arms one last time and taste the sweetness of her kiss. He held back, aware of her weakened form and mindful of the pain their separation would already bring without rekindling their desire for one last coupling.

Jadara yearned for his touch to move beyond her face. Her body ached down the path his hand could take, right down to her inner core of desire. Yet his touch remained light on her face.

In an act of absolute will, Adamen withdrew his hand. He saw the hurt that his action had caused but knew that he had, in fact, minimised the pain of parting for them both. He raised himself from the low bed and left the tent without looking back.

* * * *

Hot tears fell from Jadara's eyes as she stared at the closed flap of material that hung down as a door. She willed it to move and reveal the familiar form of the man she had grown to love coming back to claim her despite his calling. Long minutes passed as she waited, her quiet tears turning to loud sobs. The emptiness that engulfed her ached more than her flesh wounds. It was a void that could not be filled. Yet her duty called her to rise up and embrace her birthright.

Small hands roused her this time, shaking her shoulders urgently. Imagining it a dream, Jadara looked into the young laughing face of Verdily.

"Rise!" she giggled. "Come to the party!"

With the joy of youth, she danced about the space, twirling in giddy circles. The laughter was contagious and Jadara found herself smiling back.

"You are quite dizzy," she teased, as the girl swayed from side to side, grabbing the pole to keep her upright.

"Come on!" Verdily persisted. "They await you. You are the Queen now. The party may not begin without your command!" The girl bobbed in a mocking sign of deference and gestured her hand grandly towards the exit.

Jadara pulled aside the heavy fabric and closed her eyes against the glare of the new day. A loud cheer rose up from the temporary camp that had been erected to house the loyal allies. The crowd before her greeted her arrival with waving banners and excited cries. A hush fell over the assembled throng and Jadara realised, after a poke in the side from Verdily, that it was her speech that they anticipated.

"We have suffered much loss," she began, speaking from the heart. "We have grieved the dead and mourned their passing. As is the way of our people throughout Fellnesia, we must now remember them with joy. It matters not whether we are of Air, Water or Earth. Today we are all Fellnesians. Today we rejoice as one."

Jadara raised her arms then lowered them, signalling the festivities to commence. The roar that resounded was deafening. Groups broke off to begin their revelry and Jadara circulated among the tents, endeavouring to thank each and every individual for their part in the victory.

Alive with the ambience of the day, she finally arrived back in the nearby hamlet of Holesbane. Two guards stood aside allowing her entrance to the central meeting place. A large group of men and women sat around a sturdy earken table. Long benches had been placed at its sides and a heated debate was in full session. The familiar figure of Yourian beckoned her to an empty space and she acknowledged Allent and Kindert with a polite nod. The eyes of each kin-chief present revealed their Element and it seemed that they were disagreeing about the future of Fellnesia.

"But The Change is upon us," said a voice from the end of the table. A tall, willowy woman with eyes as blue as the mountain streams and hair as white as the snowy peaks, spoke with a voice that tinkled like the melting of icicles. Jadara felt a stab of longing for her childhood home. She smiled across at the kind face.

"Apologies, Jadara. I am Rivain of Great Hallows. I greet you and welcome you. Your birthright is acknowledged here."

A murmur of assent rose up from all around the table. Jadara thanked them with a shy incline of her head.

"We are in discussions regarding how to proceed," she explained patiently. "Some wish to return to the old order of things whilst some would embrace a new world."

Heads nodded and eyes looked towards Jadara.

"And you?" questioned Allent, giving Jadara an opening to speak.

Jadara thought. She had the chance to unite the Elements to end the conflict. "I would be honoured to have such worthy allies," she began with a dignified tone. "My kin would welcome friends from Earth and Air and I would be grateful to have advisors with such wisdom. I propose," she continued boldly, "that we meet every Awakening at a place that we build as one. A centre for the whole of Fellnesia. We will employ the best craftsmen from our lands. There, in that place, we will air our grievances, consider future plans and advise one another with acumen."

Jadara looked from face to face, worried that she had somehow overstepped her authority. Gradually, there was a wave of boisterous chatter. Excited voices added grander plans and a date was set for the next Awakening. One by one, kin-chiefs look their leave, departing as friends. Soon only Allent, Jadara, Yourian and Kindert remained.

"Your father bade you farewell," Yourain said softly. "His duty was too great to linger. He vowed to see you again in Jadehollow."

Jadara thanked him and assured them that she was fit to travel. It was agreed that Yourain and his men would accompany her on the journey ensuring her safe passage. Allent had sworn revenge on the enemy known as Em, who had evaded the capture or death that befell the other men loyal to Greenflack. It was surmised that he had fled to the heart of the Fire Hills and Allent intended to corner him and trap him like a hunted dapple. Kindert would return to his hamlet and pack up his people. They would then ride to Jadehollow and help to repopulate the dwindled kin.

The goodbyes were hard. Firm friendships had been forged and allies made. Jadara recalled her arrival, cloaked and afraid. She left a queen.

On The Run

When the battle had seemed inevitable, Em had ensured that he was moving in the opposite direction. He had never mastered the sword bow, never had a male kin member to teach him. The other boys had found him odd, due mainly to the eccentricity of his mama. Deception and manipulation were his weapons of choice, and they had served him well thus far. When battle loomed, he knew that he had the disadvantage. It was a place that Em did not like to find himself.

The cry for war had sung out over the camp at the close of day. Em knew that Jadara had been captured, lured by the disloyal call of the freegan. He pitied the loathsome creatures that had been ensnared below. Pitied them, but not enough to face them or attempt to free them from their slavery. Em was scared of their pain-filled cries and the sounds of their suffering that soared out over the stillness of the night. Thanly had been summoned many times that day, and Em was grateful for the reprieve.

Em now stood, back to the setting sun, scanning the horizon. A line of dark shadows, hardly a blot on the horizon of scorched earth with sky, came into view.

"Attack!" yelled the watchman, rallying the men from their daily pursuits. Em looked down from his vantage point on the crumbling battlements to see men scurrying to make ready for the approaching attack. Weapons were expertly dispatched as men became warriors and prepared for the fulfilment of their long, hard training.

The line of approaching warriors was becoming clearer. They rode relentlessly, charging with a united cause.

An enemy with a shared goal was not easily defeated, particularly when they faced a renegade band of hired assassins. Em was not prepared to find himself on the defeated side, so he decided to cut his losses and leave. Too many had now seen his face. He had allied himself with the wrong side this time, but would live to tell the tale around the next campfire.

His determination to escape before the growing line of riders arrived meant that the usually eagle-eyed Em failed to notice a dark shadow passing outside the courtyard. Such was his resolve to flee that he slipped away into the wooded knoll, to the passages that led to the Fire Hills themselves, without seeing the bulky shape. Without a backwards glance, he disappeared from view.

The noises of the battle could not be avoided, and Em sat shivering in the gloomy tunnels listening for an end. The cold fingers of dark crept around him, raising his awareness of the time. The tunnel remained as pitch black as it had been since he crawled in, but the drop in temperature alerted his senses to the rising moon.

Sleep came fitfully in the end, as Em tossed and turned on the jagged rocks of the tunnel floor. Waking abruptly, he struggled to recapture the remnants of a dream. A voice called out to him, urging him deeper into the mountain. Em decided to follow. He walked on, rounding curve after curve on the sloping paths. Em could feel a heat radiating from the centre of the Fire Hill. He could see the amber glow of the fiery core. One last corner was between him and the burning essence of Dargoon. He peered cautiously around the rocky wall and stood aghast at the sight before him.

A giant man stood at the edge of a ravine; arms spread out wide emitting a savage cry. All around him danced silver specks. They swirled and spun, seeming to come from his very essence. In and out of their host they played, as if free from a lifetime of confinement. The man, however, stood as still as if he were made from the stone that surrounded him.

The silver spheres seemed to halt as one. They gathered around the head of the potent man. His head cocked as if hearing a sound that eluded Em. Then he smiled, a smile that traversed his face like the sun coming from behind a cloud. It was a smile of such joy and hope that it made Em retreat from view, ashamed at sharing such an intimate moment.

By stepping away, Em did not see the journey of the silver lights as they descended into the inferno below, popping on contact with the surface as they disappeared. When he next glanced around the wall of rock, the passage was empty.

Em sat down, his back pressed to the smooth, warm stone. He was a patient man. His was the long game as it always had been. He knew that battles would wage and subside, leaders would come and go, and there would always be greedy men for him to manipulate and deceive. He felt quite joyous as he anticipated his next adventure.

What Em did not anticipate was the determined lust for revenge of the kin-chief Allent and his band of hunters who were hot on the trail of the betrayer. They never returned without a kill.

They had followed the cracked twigs and footfalls of a medium-built man right into the tunnels of the hill. Allent knew these tunnels well. His men often slept in their warmth when out hunting in the time of snow. His people still had to eat, and the well-placed tunnels allowed his men shelter enough to hunt, supplying enough food to cover the time when the mountain paths were impenetrable.

The warrens within, it seemed, had now given shelter to the cruellest betrayer.

Signalling to his men to halt, Allent, could just make out the heavy breathing of someone overwhelmed by the heat and fumes of the mountain's blistering heart. As one, they rounded the corner to observe a hunched figure, drenched in sweat and pulling desperately at his garments.

"Are you the one they call, Em?" bellowed Allent. The tunnel vibrated with his imposing tone.

Em stood up, dazed and bewildered. He stumbled and stepped forward. His eyes widened as the edge of the precipice loomed before him, and he swayed backwards and forwards.

The poison in the air had made him light-headed. He blinked slowly, aware of some blurry figures approaching. Em took one more step backwards. It was a step too far. His weight shifted, and he grasped for a handhold. The edge offered no such hold, nor did Allent's men who stood motionless, horrified at the scene. Em tumbled, his body hurtling towards the sea of red. He hit the molten rock and was gone.

Allent and his men exchanged grim smiles and turned back to the darkened tunnels. Tunnels that would return them to the festivities of victory below in the shadow of the Fire Hills of Dargoon.

Destiny Fulfilled

The ride to Jadehollow was uneventful. Each rustling in the bushes still caused Jadara's heart to flutter with the hope that a burly warrior was awaiting around every corner, despite her efforts to temper her imagination. Thinking of Adamen caused Jadara's chest to hurt. His face hovered before her each time she slept, and he was her first thought on waking. Her body longed for his touch, and her soul cried out to him. Inside she was empty. She knew not how she would rule without his guidance and strength yet rule she must. Now that she had pursued her destiny, she must fulfil it.

The ride was taking several days. Nights spent amongst the lush, green trees did little to calm Jadara's spirit. The company of Verdily eased her pain somewhat, although the child rode on Yourain's strong mount, and her fatigue meant that she spent long hours in slumber. The easy chatter around the campfire was a welcome distraction while it lasted, but all too soon weary riders would retire to get their rest before the morning brought another day's travel.

On one such night, the second of the journey, Jadara sat beside Yourain who regaled her with stories of his youth.

"I knew your grandfather," he revealed. "We were youths together in Jadehollow, cousins really. My sire and his were of the same Primary Mates. His was the oldest so had the claim to rule. My father did not make a challenge. It was agreed that he would go and begin a new hamlet, allied to Jadehollow yet ruled by another. That is how I became the kin-chief of Fardaria. We have been awaiting you, Jadara, to restore the Air kins to their rightful place, not just servants of Greenflack living in fear, but proud people who have skills to offer Fellnesia."

"But why me?" puzzled Jadara. "You too had a kinship to Jadehollow, why did you not challenge Greenflack? Why did your kin not return to Jadehollow?"

"By then, I had my own kin to protect. I had built a haven which ran in peace. You have been to Fardaria, you have seen the tranquillity there. Why would we exchange that to live under the tyranny of Greenflack? Besides, you were foretold. The Dolchie had predicted The Change. They spoke of one born of three worlds, one that would unite the kins. It was said that The Change would enter the realm of fire yet rise to glory. The silver glow of The Dolchie would shine from within and defeat the assassin. Anyone who was in doubt about that truth only has to look to you now."

Jadara quietly considered Yourain's words. Her destiny was clear yet weighed heavy on her young heart. She found her mind wandering back to the days of her youth, the kind crystal blue eyes of Drew glistened in her vision. It seemed so long ago yet she could still smell the mountain air and taste the fresh spring water.

"Will I see Turonia again?" she wondered out loud.

Yourain gave her hand a fatherly pat. "I have learnt that many wonderful things can occur in the blink of an eye. You must take each day and appreciate what it brings, child. Nothing but pain will come of bringing yesterday into tomorrow," he said wisely.

Yourain rose and tucked his fabric bed under his arm. He gave Jadara one last reassuring smirk and pointed towards the low branch of a nearby eark tree.

"Perfect spot," he said.

Left to watch the fading embers glow, Jadara sensed the presence of an old friend in the back of her mind.

"Peace freegan," she spoke deep into her thoughts.

"Queen Jadara," its mighty voice filled the corners of Jadara's every thought. "You are soon to face your destiny. You must embrace it without fear. The Change will only be possible through you. The old ways are passed. Do not search us out again. We will be departing from this life. Greenflack drained the very depth of our energy. We have just enough power to pass into fire, where we will become one with our Element. The Dolchie have passed there before us. They saw you before you were born, Jadara, and their sight is never wrong. Embrace, Jadara! Embrace!"

The deep sound resonated and faded to a low rumble. Jadara sensed an overwhelming peace as she lay her head down beside the fire. With a loud crescendo of majestic force, the sky burst open. Flames of orangey red sprouted across and faded back to the star scattered backdrop of night.

Silence hung, and Jadara felt a void within her. Her eyes grew heavy, and she allowed herself slumber.

The tree-lined path that led into Jadehollow was adorned with fabric of every colour. Ribbons hung between eark trees and happy faces with cheeks rosy and bright lined the sides of the approach. Small children swung from tree to tree chattering and calling with joy.

"She rides!"

"She is here!"

Cheers and singing filled the forest, and the atmosphere was charged with long awaited hope. Jadara waved and smiled broadly, turning her head from side to side, hoping to greet each and every face that had joined the celebration. As her horse struggled to penetrate the crowd, she dismounted and walked towards the wooden gates. Her hands were grasped by children who pulled her onwards, giggling and chatting and bombarding her with names.

A piercing scream shook the festivities and halted the parade of eager children. A wild looking woman appeared, her corn-coloured hair clinging to itself in dirty tails. She stood aghast with both hands clasped over her open mouth. Wide green eyes stared in disbelief at the horses beyond Jadara.

"Is it true?" she shrieked, grabbing the hand of the older woman who had arrived panting at her side. "Verdily!"

"Mama!" Verdily leapt from Yourain's mount and flew into the waiting, outspread arms of her mother. The embrace stole the breath of both mother and daughter as they relished the sweet reunion.

Jadara moved on towards the centre of the hamlet, a perfect circle of grass surrounding a fire pit. Rope and wooden ladders led from the edges of the lush green turf to low-slung bridges adjoining one dwelling to another. Similar wooden structures to those that Jadara had beheld in Fardaria were placed at various intervals around a larger circle shape. Jadara felt a sudden pang as she remembered the magic of that tranquil hut and the touch of passion that had led to her sexual awakening. She blushed as she became aware of curious faces standing close by and awaiting her reaction to the new home.

"It is beautiful," she breathed, the scent of the fragrant earks filling her nose and bringing a familiar sense of home. "It is more beautiful than I imagined. I am home."

A resounding cheer echoed through the clearing as the milling crowd began to disperse. Through a screen of leaves that hung like two giant curtains, Jadara noticed a larger wooden dwelling. It had a wide panelled door and strong pillars to support a mossy roof.

Yourain's voice whispered close to her ear.

"Take a moment to rest in there. It is your home. It has been made ready for your arrival using donated pieces. They hope you find it to your liking." He motioned to a small group of anxious looking she-mates who nodded towards the partly open door.

"Thank you." Jadara was overwhelmed by the generosity of a people who had lived under fear and tyranny for so long. She pushed open the heavy door and felt it swing back. The room revealed a low bed, festooned with plump fabric rests. A chair woven from eark bark took the central place in the room and in it sat a slightly frail-looking figure with youthful blue eyes.

"Gran!" shouted Jadara with a mix of joy and disbelief. "W-what... H-how?"

"Well, I see that travel has left you as tongue-tied as when you left," scolded Drew playfully. "Not very queenly of you to stutter, dear! And I have a few things to talk to you about. Keeping secrets and rushing off into danger all by yourself," she said sternly.

Jadara rushed into the waiting arms of her gran and took comfort in a hearty embrace. Her body might look frail, but no one could ever accuse Drew's spirit of fragility.

"Now," she said as she got up and brushed herself off. "I have seen a few ideas for dapple hide that I would like to find out more about."

"I will come too," said Jadara turning to follow. "I do..." Her voice caught as she saw the bulky frame standing holding the door open for her gran.

"Many thanks, young Adamen," said Drew, passing quickly out into the sunshine.

The door closed with a thud and two sets of eyes met across the room. Jadara wanted to run into that warm chest and bury herself in its strength, but she just waited. Her breath drew in with a shuddering gasp.

With a long stride, Adamen closed the gap between them and reached for Jadara's cheek. He traced one finger lightly across her cheekbone and down the side of her face. Her skin felt as soft as dapple skin, and he too gasped a rasping breath. Unsure of how long he could resist touching her more, he moved his dark head down towards her slowly parting lips.

"We mustn't," she squeaked, her voice barely feeling like her own. "You said..."

"Damn what I said," he cursed, closing the final inches between them and bringing his mouth down onto hers with a possessive kiss.

Jadara's lips parted instantly, her body already burning for the touch she knew was imminent. Adamen did not disappoint. Whilst he maintained the pressure of his lips, his hand reached up to cup the familiar shape of her breast. His thumb rubbed and teased her sensitive nipple until it strained at the fabric of her gown, to be released into his warm palm.

Boldly, she pulled on his tunic, running her hands up inside it and onto his taut chest. Her fingers traced sensual paths as she explored his contours. The animal sound that he emitted inspired her touch and soon she was cupping the pulsing bulge of his desire. Her gentle hands rubbed and stroked causing Adamen to lose his focus on her body and throw his head back in wild abandon.

Grabbing her two small hands in one of his, he pulled her nearer to the inviting bed. It was clear by his body language what was on his mind. Jadara quickly wriggled free. Laughing, she instead pushed him into the upright chair. Disposing of her gown she climbed upon his lap and wrapped her legs around his back, pulling her body close to his muscled frame.

Jadara's naked breasts danced playfully in front of his face, and he leaned in to taste their sweetness. Finally bursting from the confines of his garments, Adamen's manhood stood ready to enter the soft warmth that he so craved.

He paused in his delightful indulgence of her rosy nipples and softly spoke.

"May I?"

Jadara felt tears spring to her eyes. She smiled shyly and nodded her consent. Adamen slowly drove up inside her, placing his hands on her waist and aiding her to rise and fall against him. His delight in her was evident in the dancing spark deep in his eyes. Her pace soon quickened. She was eager to feel the building crescendo of pleasure that only he could bring.

She wanted him to satisfy her yet craved for this sensation to last forever. She knew he would leave her soon and she yearned to hold him and beg him to stay. His duty came first, he had made that clear, yet here he was pushing himself into her core. The wave of ecstasy began slowly. It started as a change in her breathing that caused her to choke out strangled moans of desire.

As if sensing her changing rhythm, Adamen bent down once again to capture her nipple in his mouth. He sucked deeply, triggering the link from the sensitive peak to the source of her desire. He lowered his hand down her back and, cupping her creamy behind, found another warm place to penetrate her again with his probing finger.

The assault on her senses made Jadara cry out with wave after wave of carnal pleasure.

Overcome by the tight clenching of her release, Adamen found his. Together they had sought and found the source of their need.

Carrying her carefully to the bed, Adamen pressed the new queen to fit his shape. They lay together, curled up as one until desire renewed itself and Adamen reached out, eager to catch up on what he had missed. A slow smile crossed Jadara's face as she guided the wandering hand to the place that had, once again, begun to ache for its touch.

A new day had dawned before Jadara and Adamen took a moment to talk. Even now, it was hard to sit apart and think about the fast breaking meal that had arrived outside their dwelling. Rich golden fruits graced the platter with soft skin that was easily peeled away to reveal the moist, sweet flesh within. The pair ate hungrily, eyes locked together as they chewed and swallowed.

Jadara was the first to break the companionable silence.

"Your arms," she noted, surprised. "The silver has gone."

"It has," agreed Adamen. "The Dolchie gifted me with their full withdrawal. They passed into the Fire Hills of Dargoon as I stood on the brink of the furnace. As they left, they urged me to join The Change. They claimed it was my destiny to be here, with you. Without the marks, I am no longer a Passer. Their souls were not of the three Elements. They were Fire, so they did not leave their trace on me. Therefore, I am free to be here, with you. If you will have me," he added, almost shyly.

Jadara's head dropped as she beamed with pleasure. "I will!" she agreed at once.

* * * *

In the next Awakening, when the first light of the warm sun shone through the leafy glade, Queen Jadara, dappled in light, rode out to meet the group of tattooed men that approached the hamlet of Jadehollow. Her smile widened as she greeted the familiar forms of Roughier and Lambord at the head of the group. After exchanging the customary greetings, she moved her hand to reveal the large rotund mound that protruded from her gown.

"What news?" asked Lambord merrily. He glanced at his blossoming daughter with pride. "No need to ask if Adamen caught up with you then!" he teased.

Laughing and teasing, the warriors followed the queen to the gates of the verdant hamlet, eager to rest for the night and partake of some feasting and ale and maybe a comely wench to warm their beds.

It was the way things had been and would continue to be in the timeless existence of The Passers. The land may be in a state of growth and change, but The Passers still roamed Fellnesia, charged to seek out the souls that cried out for peace and carry them to their final resting places. It was a charge granted by the freegan themselves. They were the beasts that populated the stories told by the firesides of Fellnesia, as the children grew, as children must, into storytellers, Primary Mates or even Passers themselves. In a land of Change, anything was possible.

THE END
Author Biography

My name is Loretta Laird and I am a romance-aholic!

My passion is to write books that I like to read. I love to get lost in a book though seldom get the opportunity being a busy mum. I enjoy cooking, mostly cakes as that's what I love to eat.

My ambition is to buy a cabin by a lake and sit and write all day, creating worlds and stories that are enjoyed by many.

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LORETTA LAIRD
