 
# Lascaria – Sins of the Ancestors

Written By: Steven Sterup Jr.

Copyright 2016 Steven Sterup Jr.

Legal Disclaimer - This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Special thanks to Amber Adams and Tammy Sterup for their help with editing.

Again, I would like to dedicate this book to Tammy, my wife. Her undying support is the reason I keep writing.

If you haven't read it yet, please be sure to check out Book 1, Lascaria – Evil Reborn, available at many e-book sites.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

# Chapter 1

Kriista was woken by the morning sun. The morning was chilly but not exactly cold. She knew this meant that winter was coming but it was still a ways off. The dew on the grass sparkled in the new day's sunlight like a million crystals each with its own miniature copy of the sun. The air smelled clean, fresh and devoid of the stench of humanoid pollution. This was the kind of morning that Kriista loved, at least she used to love them. Today the beautiful morning was nothing more than a reminder of what happiness used to feel like. Yet another slap in the face to let her know that life went on without Elyse. At times Kriista wished that life would just stop, that she would just die. But after a few moments of reflection she would realize that this wouldn't bring Elyse back and instead she would focus on the hatred she felt for Lascar and Zephillia. This hatred is why she kept living, kept trying, without it the draelic queen would have simply given up.

Kriista rose from her bedroll not bothering to brush her hair or straighten her clothing. Her hair had grown longer in the months following Elyse's death but Kriista didn't care if she looked presentable so she tied it up in a ponytail. As she was tying her hair back she looked down on her nephew Dhrel. One of the few comforts she had was that at least she wasn't doing as badly as her nephew. Since Dhrel's fiancé had died and Shye's thoughts were ripped from his mind he had barely spoken. The young king would answer simple questions but conversation was still impossible for him. The poor man, Kriista thought, as hard as it was for her, it was ten times harder for her nephew.

Kriista, Dhrel and Gromthule were on a trip back to Norzen to bury Elyse at Stone's Rest. Elyse was one of the queens of Norzen so her body and sacrifice needed to be celebrated at the draelic capitol. They had buried Shye with the druids, since she was half druid. Gromthule had offered to take Shye back to the xeltheen capitol and bury her in a manner befitting the future queen but Dhrel said no and motioned to the druid graveyard. Gromthule respected Dhrel's wishes and buried her with the other druids. Despite Dhrel's lack of vocabulary the large druid seemed to be able to communicate with the young king, although even this was limited to one word responses from Dhrel.

After pitying her nephew the draelic queen went about her morning routine. Her grief was stronger than her hunger so instead of eating she drank some of the water they had gotten from a nearby stream and went to the open field beside where they were camped to train. During the whole trip training was the only thing Kriista did besides driving the carriage with Elyse's coffin in it. The hatred for her father and step-mother consumed her thoughts. The draelic queen trained as often as she could so that when she did finally confront them she could kill them. Even though it was Zephillia who had actually killed Elyse Kriista blamed Lascar more than his wife. If only she could kill Zephillia first then Lascar would know how it felt to have his wife taken from him. Then after she had enacted her revenge Kriista would kill her father, slowly.

Kriista played through many of these scenarios in her head as she trained with her sword. She envisioned Zephillia and then Lascar as she sliced the tree trunk. Pictured their heads as she thrust her sword through another. Every campsite looked the same after they left, most of the trees around the campsite were decimated and falling down, this one would end up the same.

As the hunger in her stomach rose Kriista forced it down, she would not let herself be weak. When she struck one of the trees splinters flew off and one of the larger ones caught her in her sword arm. The pain meant nothing to her as she pulled out the large splinter. The splinter was nearly as big as her finger but Kriista refused to let herself feel the pain as she pulled it out of her forearm. This made the draelic queen even angrier so she again sliced at the tree, cleaving through the trunk. The tree began to fall towards the carriage with Elyse's coffin. Kriista quickly moved between the falling tree and the carriage and caught the tree. She threw it back in to the field and grew furious with herself. She should have been more careful, the tree could have crushed Elyse's coffin. Kriista's anger turned to blind rage, she moved to the trees away from the carriage and began chopping and stabbing them as well. There was no end to Kriista's rage and it wasn't until she realized she had broken the sword that she stopped. Kriista fell to her knees now annoyed with the sword for being inferior. She cursed the blade and the pitiful excuse for a smith that had crafted it.

It was then that Kriista noticed someone watching her. At the edge of the field, where the trees grew closer together, there was a figure lurking between the trees. The figure had on a hooded robe and it looked somewhat familiar.

"What do you want?!" the draelic queen yelled towards the figure.

The figure didn't answer. Instead it started walking slowly towards her.

"What do you want!?!" she yelled again louder this time. The volume of her voice caused several birds who had been hiding nearby to fly off.

The figure still didn't answer, it kept walking slowly towards her. As it got closer Kriista stood up to face it. When the figure was half way across the large field the draelic queen could swear that it looked like Lascar.

"Show yourself!" Kriista commanded.

The figure stopped, lifted its hood and stared at Kriista. It was Lascar!

Kriista sprang forward with her broken sword, it still had half a blade which was enough to kill someone. As she got near Lascar she thrust the sword at his chest but the evil king side stepped her and Kriista fell forward impaling the ground, tumbling head first over the sunken blade. The draelic queen lunged for her blade and pulled it from the ground but when she stood up Lascar was almost twenty feet away. Her father wasn't that fast, how could it be him? And why was he not fighting back?

"Who are you really?" Kriista asked in a lower voice.

Lascar began to transform and then it was Zephillia. The evil draelic laughed at Kriista, turned and began walking toward the carriage.

"What are you doing?" the draelic queen asked frantically.

"I came to finish the job," Zephillia replied as she continued toward the carriage and the campsite. She was going to kill Dhrel!

Kriista ran at her step-mother with her broken sword. The draelic queen lunged at Zephillia's back as she slowly walked on but the evil draelic ducked and Kriista again hit nothing, tumbling head-over-heel into the side of the carriage.

The draelic queen got her bearings and again rose to fight her step-mother. As Kriista got up a second time she saw that Zephillia was again over twenty feet away, nearly back at the middle of the field. Zephillia transformed again, this time she turned into Elyse.

"Control your hatred," Elyse said.

"But how? Why?" Kriista couldn't find the words to express what was going on in her head and she fell to her knees again.

"Your hatred will kill you," Elyse said as she walked slowly towards Kriista. As Elyse got closer to Kriista she began to transform again, this time it was Gromthule.

"How could you? Why her?" Kriista said as tears began to form in her eyes. The draelic queen no longer appeared angry, instead she now seemed very lost.

"Because it's what you needed to see," Gromthule said as he reached down. Gromthule placed his hands on the small draelic queen's waist and lifted her like she was a child. He put one of his hands on the back of her head and placed her head to his shoulder. The large druid then hugged Kriista as she began to cry. "It's ok to miss her."

Kriista had cried as Elyse died but since that day she refused to even acknowledge her grief. The draelic queen had used hatred to mask her grief. She had used pain and hunger to avoid dealing with the death of her wife. As she hugged the large druid she could feel his love for her, not romantic love, but the love a father has for his daughter. This kind of love she had never experienced before.

"Your hatred will only get you killed," the large druid said as he held the small draelic queen.

"It's all I have left," Kriista said dejectedly.

"No it's not. You have a nephew that needs you, I need you," Gromthule said

The large druid placed Kriista on the ground and put his large hand under her chin. He lifted her face to meet his.

"You two are like family to me and I don't want to lose anyone else," he said with a smile.

Gromthule took a few steps back and transformed back into Lascar.

"Hatred makes you weak, it makes you blind," Gromthule said in his own voice even though he looked like Lascar. "I should not be able to beat you, you are one of the best warriors I've ever known. But this," he said motioning to Lascar's body. "This is your weakness. Your hatred for him."

Kriista struggled against the hatred. She wanted to not only kill Lascar, she wanted to make him suffer.

"I'm not as fast as you, not as strong as you, but I beat you. Twice," the illusion of Lascar said with Gromthule's voice. "How can you expect to beat the real Lascar when you have this handicap?"

Kriista fell to her knees again and put her hands over her eyes.

"I don't know," Kriista answered.

"Exactly," Gromthule said returning to his real form. "Anger is a tool, hatred is weakness."

Gromthule knelt down in front of Kriista and put his arms around her.

"I have come to love you like a daughter. Please, let me help you," the large druid said in a comforting voice. "Elyse is gone and no one will ever replace her, but your life goes on. It must. Your people, all the people of Lascaria need you and Dhrel to save them. We will get justice for Elyse, not revenge."

Kriista put her arms around the large druid. She felt safe, she felt loved. When the draelic queen was younger she had wished for her father to treat her this way. After many years and countless disappointments she came to realize that her father would never love her. Kriista blamed herself for being weak and not having magic, but she knew now that there was something wrong with Lascar. Elyse had loved her, Dhrel loved her, and even Gromthule loved her.

Gromthule was right, the hatred was a weakness. No one had ever beaten her in a fight unless it involved magic. The desire to have revenge was making her blind, she should have seen that it wasn't really Lascar or Zephillia she was fighting. As she forced the hatred down and began to think more clearly she realized something. Gromthule acted like a father, he must have had children. Why was he saying that she and Dhrel were all he had left?

"What happened to your children?" the draelic queen asked.

"Hatred got them killed," Gromthule said as he took his arms off of Kriista and stared at the ground. "You know I had a wife before Kaelysa."

"Yes, I remember your story," Kriista said.

"About fifty years after that I was still full of hate. My children, twins, a beautiful daughter and a strong son, were poisoned by my hatred," the large druid said as tears welled up in his eyes. "My children were consumed by my tales of how Lucian had killed their mother. They felt that Lascar needed to pay for his father's sins so they tried to kill him at Stone's Rest."

"Oh," Kriista said realizing that Gromthule's speech about hatred was one of experience.

"Needless to say Lascar killed them easily. He then set out to kill all the druids to prevent another assassination attempt. My hatred not only killed my children, it sparked a witch hunt that killed thousands of druids. I was so blinded by hate that I hadn't realized I was poisoning the minds of my children and sentencing them to death," Gromthule said as a tear fell from his eye.

"I see why this is so important to you. I will try not to let you down," Kriista said as she threw her arms around the large druid's shoulders and placed her head on his chest. She had never felt this kind of love before, it took the edge off of the grief she felt for Elyse. Kriista did not want to disappoint Gromthule, he was as close to a father as she had ever known.

# Chapter 2

Kriista, Dhrel and Gromthule continued on their mission to reach Stone's Rest before winter set in. Their trip was slow, hauling a carriage with a coffin as well as three people was almost too much for the two horses they had bought in Xanthan. Winter was coming but pushing the horses too much would cause an even bigger problem. Being stuck out in the middle of nowhere during the month of winter would probably kill the horses which would delay their arrival yet another month. Because of this the three pushed the horses as much as they could take each day then Gromthule would attempt to help Kriista and Dhrel train for the battle that was to come.

Most of their evenings were spent meditating and training. Although Kriista was a world class warrior, Gromthule had picked up many fighting styles in his long life that she had never seen. Kriista and Dhrel were most interested in a fighting style that used two swords. While shields were much better protection it was impractical to carry a shield all the time. Learning to parry and block with a second sword provided some protection and the second sword was light and easy to carry on a belt sheathe.

The meditation helped Kriista stifle her hatred and even helped Dhrel overcome his inability to speak. In the weeks before they arrived at Stone's Rest Dhrel had begun to speak in normal sentences once again. He had also gotten quite good at wielding two swords. The young boy who was taken out by Kriista without landing a single blow was now nearly on her level of skill. His aunt could still take him in a fight but Dhrel was able to mostly block her attacks and even get in a few hits of his own. Now a young man, his body was beginning to fill out. He had lost his childish softness and had gained quite a bit of muscle tone. Although the young king was still not completely a man, he was quickly becoming a skilled fighter and this made Kriista proud.

When they finally arrived at Stone's Rest, nearly three weeks behind schedule, they made their way to the stronghold. The horses had gotten slower as the cold came to Lascaria. They had intended to finish with Elyse's funeral and still be on time for Dhrel's meeting with the Xanthan council, but as they reached Stone's Rest they realized this wasn't going to happen.

The young king was to meet with the council on his nineteenth birthday to declare his intention to become king as well as to appoint the lead council member who would be his advocate and second in command of the country. But because of the slow horses Dhrel's birthday had gone by a week ago. Gromthule had tried to persuade Dhrel to head to Xanthan alone so that he could make it on time for the meeting but the young king refused. Elyse's funeral was more important than a political meeting and if the council objected Dhrel would make them understand. The death of his aunt, one of the queens of Norzen as well as the death of Shye, the future queen of Xanthan, were more important than pandering to some politicians. He was after all the king, what were they going to do, fire him?

When the carriage hauling the three adventurers and the coffin of Elyse arrived at Stone's Rest they were greeted with many curious stares. Most of the draelic recognized Dhrel. His features hadn't changed much, he simply looked more battle hardened and more respectable by draelic standards. It was the large druid that caused most of the curiosity. Many draelic had never seen a druid. Some thought Gromthule to be an overly large xeltheen others realized he was a druid and wanted a closer look. The draelic were not scared of druids, apprehensive was a better way to put it. They had heard stories of the feats druids were capable of as well as their hatred for Lascar. Most of the draelic spoke of druids with respect and admiration for their ability to continue fighting Lascar for centuries. In Norzen at least, druids were the unsung heroes of many oppressed draelic during the evil king's reign.

Once at the gates to the stronghold the reactions changed. The draelic soldiers were not about to stare at Gromthule and they didn't mutter to each other about the druids. The soldiers were respectful, this man whatever his race was a guest of the queen and above them in station.

It was still early morning when they arrived so once they had driven the carriage to the church of the stronghold Kriista lead them to the royal living quarters. Kriista gave Dhrel some of his father's old clothes to wear and found some respectable clothes for Gromthule to wear as well. Kriista then dressed herself in her finest general's uniform. Draelic general's uniforms were rather plain, they were mostly dark grey and had many gold buttons on them. Generals wore small bars pinned to the left side of their chest near the shoulder to denote their rank. Kriista's rank was one long bar to signify that she was the queen in charge of the entire army. The general under her would have a bar half this length and the general under this one would have five smaller bars continuing to the lowest ranked generals who had only one small bar. Kriista had not officially chosen a second in command because Elyse had held this rank until her death. Grulek was the five bar general under Elyse but today Kriista needed to appoint the second in command at Elyse's funeral. The queen had decided on Grulek and even though she knew that this would cause unrest, she needed to have him in charge. Grulek was the only draelic Kriista believed would carry out Elyse's plans.

Grulek had done wonders for the draelic in her absence. As they traveled through Norzen, Kriista noticed the farms were all plowed. Being that winter was almost here they would sit that way until spring but Grulek had worked diligently to do what he promised. The large draelic man was not only a good general, he was a good leader. He had rallied all the soldiers to help the farmers get ready for the coming spring. On her trip the queen also spoke to some of the farmers and nearly every one of them had told her tales of the soldiers that had come to help them repair and rebuild their farms. Kriista had only known one other general who was as influential and dedicated to the people of Norzen and her funeral was today. It seemed only right that Grulek take her place. However, this decision would undoubtedly cause much debate among the other generals. A man being lead general was one thing but to make him prime minister, officially in charge of all Norzen, was something else.

It was nearly noon before Kriista was ready. She had sent for the royal barber to fix her hair back to the shoulder length style that Elyse had loved. The queen even put on some makeup and a bit of perfume. Since Elyse's death Kriista had not cared about her appearance, but today she needed to show all of Norzen that their queen was still alive and well. The queen of the draelic needed to be strong, commanding and beautiful so that her subjects knew she was still in charge and fighting for their freedom.

Kriista, Dhrel and Gromthule arrived at the funeral a little after lunch. Most of the generals and soldiers had already arrived and were sitting in benches set up near the coffin. The coffin was placed on a wooden table in an open area in front of the benches. Under the table there was dried lumber piled up with some tinder stuffed in the gaps. On the other side of the table were six large chairs. The chairs were arranged on different level platforms. The largest chair was on the highest platform and this was for Kriista. On a step below and to the left was the spouse's chair, this chair would remain empty to signify the death of Elyse. Then on a lower platform was the third chair, reserved for the prime minister, below that was the lead general's chair. On the right was two chairs on the ground level for Dhrel and Gromthule. The right side was reserved for influential friends and the family of the queen, but today they only needed two. In front of the benches, closer to the coffin were two chairs reserved for the Elyse's family. Elyse had no siblings but her father and mother were still alive so they would be given these seats.

Kriista, Dhrel and Gromthule made their way through the crowd of soldiers and generals that were standing around reminiscing about Elyse. As they got closer to their seats, opposite the coffin, Kriista noticed that Grulek was already sitting at the lead general's chair. When they approached him, Grulek stood and saluted his queen with his fist to his chin.

Draelic salutes are very ceremonious in nature. The lower ranking officer would solute a higher ranking one by placing their fist to their chin. This would signify that the higher ranking officer had the right to speak first. The higher ranking officer would then place their fist to their chest to signify that they were in charge.

Kriista in turn saluted back with her fist to her chest. Grulek then saluted Dhrel and even Gromthule with his hand to his chin before sitting down to wait for the funeral to commence. Dhrel and Gromthule had no idea how to salute like a draelic so they just bowed as was customary for xeltheen.

The priest then took to the center of the funeral area and tried to quiet the soldiers. Elyse's parents sat down when they heard the priest speak but the soldiers didn't pay him any attention. After a few more attempts by the priest Grulek stood and walked a few paces forward.

"Attention!" Grulek yelled in his low commanding voice with his fist to his chest.

The soldiers quickly moved to their seats and saluted Grulek with their fists to their chins. The generals however didn't salute back, only taking their seats when they heard Grulek's command. This annoyed the large draelic but he was a patient man, he knew it would take time for the generals to respect him.

"At ease!" Grulek again yelled. "The floor is yours priest."

"Today we mourn the loss of our queen, Elyse," the priest started. "I give the floor over to queen Kriista," he said motioning to Kriista.

Kriista stood up from her chair and walked down the steps so that she was ground level. She was not addressing soldiers as a queen today, she was instead speaking to them about her wife. The queen wiped a tear from her eye as she approached the coffin and prepared to speak to the soldiers. The act of her wiping a tear caused some murmurs from the crowd. Mostly from the generals who saw it as a sign of weakness that the queen was crying.

"I am here today to speak to you not only as your queen but as Elyse's wife. Elyse was not only one of the greatest generals of Norzen but also a kind caring woman." Kriista paused wiping yet another tear from her eye. "She commanded you all but she also respected you. She would help any of you as if you were her family. She was easy to love because she gave so much of herself. That reason is why she is lying here today. She died fighting Lascar to save our country." Kriista wasn't about to go in to the details of how it was Zephillia who had actually killed Elyse. That story was way too complicated to explain in a eulogy. Her people only needed to know it was Lascar's fault.

"To her parents, I apologize. I was not able to save her and for that I am deeply sorry. Your daughter was everything to me, I would have gladly taken her place if I could have. Please forgive me," the queen said as she wiped tears from both eyes and returned to her throne.

"Now if Elyse's parents will please perform the ceremony of release," the priest said motioning to Elyse's mother and father.

Her parents rose from their seats and Elyse's mother grabbed the sword that was at her side. The sword had belonged to Elyse, it was her general's sword, the same sword Kriista had given to her when Elyse was appointed as lead general.

For the ceremony of release one of the relatives of the deceased, usually the mother if she was still living, would take the sword and plunge it through the body of her dead child. If the mother of the person was dead then the duty would fall to the father and if there was no father then to the children of the deceased. Finally, if there were no living family members the priest performing the funeral would then have to perform the ritual. There were many ceremonial reasons given for this act, but mostly the draelic believed that this released the soul of the person allowing it to go to heaven.

Elyse's mother, Irel was a rough looking draelic woman. She was a retired general who had served many years ago. She had grey curly hair that looked similar to the way Elyse had worn hers. Irel's face was also very similar to Elyse's face only much more worn and stern looking. Elyse's mother wore her general's uniform with no bars. Generals were allowed to wear their uniforms after retirement as long as they removed the bars from their shoulder. Even though she was retired Elyse's mother still commanded a lot of respect with the current generals. Irel had served while Kriista was the lead general under Lascar and the two never got along very well. When Elyse and Kriista started dating Irel was courteous to Kriista but they were never very close and avoided each other for the most part.

Irel walked with the sword up to the coffin while her husband stayed standing in front of his chair. When she was at the coffin she spoke.

"I would like my daughter-in-law to do the honors. Kriista was everything to Elyse, it's fitting that she be the one to release her," Irel said holding the sword out, hilt first toward Kriista.

Kriista was astounded by this act of compassion. Irel had been the general that she butted heads with the most when she was lead general. Despite this the queen rose from her throne and walked to take the sword.

"You kept me sharp, my dear. I enjoyed our debates as a general. What I regret most is not accepting you sooner as Elyse's lover. I guess what I feared most was her ending up dead because she was with you," Irel said as she released the sword.

"That is exactly what happened and I'm very sorry," Kriista replied.

"No, what I hadn't realized until today is that it wasn't your fault at all. I've spent too much time blaming you. Elyse chose this path long before she met you. She wanted to save Norzen even if it killed her. She would have ended up here much sooner had she not met you. Lascar gave her a cause to die for, you gave her something to live for." Now Elyse's mother was teary-eyed as well.

"I will always consider you family Irel. Please, if you need anything just ask," Kriista said as Irel returned to her husband.

The crowd of soldiers grew eerily silent as Kriista raised the sword over her head. All the soldiers got to their feet and saluted with their fists at their chins. Even the generals sitting directly behind Elyse's parents stood at attention.

"My father will pay for what he has taken from us!" Kriista yelled toward the crowd, again feeling the pull of hatred. "I release you Elyse! Find your way to the maker!" And Kriista thrust the sword through the coffin, through Elyse's body and through the table under the coffin splitting the table in half. The crowd gasped as Kriista split the table. All the draelic had heard tales of Kriista's strength, but to see it first hand was still a shock.

Kriista returned to her throne and addressed her people once again.

"Before the ceremony is finished I need to appoint someone to take her place. We need a new prime minister. Generals please come forward," the queen announced.

The generals proceeded to line up in front of the throne, higher ranking generals in the middle with the one bar generals crowding around the edge. Grulek took his place in the middle of the generals. For each rank of general there was only one with the exception of the one bar generals. There were about twenty one bar generals, as this was the first rank of general and they were all considered to be equals. The fourth and third bar generals stood a few feet from Grulek, they did not want to imply that they supported a man as lead general. The second bar general stood beside the third.

"I understand that there is some apprehension towards my lead general," Kriista said motioning to Grulek. "I want to applaud those that supported him in rebuilding the farms."

This caused some sneers and jaded looks from several of the generals, including the fourth and third bar generals.

"It's due to his tireless efforts and his unwavering support for Elyse's plan to rebuild the farms that I am proud to name him prime minister," Kriista said as she moved toward Grulek to hand him the prime ministers half bar.

The generals all began to mumble in disagreement over whether he should be prime minister and if a man was actually capable of being prime minister. Grulek accepted his half bar and replaced the five smaller bars on his shoulder. After saluting Kriista with his fist to his chin he then turned to the crowd of generals to pick the new lead general and saluted them with his fist to his chest. The fourth and third generals refused to salute back to him but the second and most of the one bar generals all saluted with their fists to their chins.

Kriista stepped forward with a furious look on her face ready to chastise the generals who refused to salute but Grulek stuck out his large hand, careful not to touch the queen.

"You have more important things to worry about my queen, especially today. Let me worry about my generals," the large draelic said in a respectful tone.

Kriista was impressed. She had chosen the right person and furthermore the soft-spoken draelic had said two sentences in succession. During her time with Grulek she had barely heard him say more than a few words in agreement or objection to her plans. It seemed that he actually had something to say for once or maybe he was just getting more comfortable with his role as a leader. Either way Kriista sat down on her throne and let Grulek deal with his subordinates with a satisfied smile on her face.

"You don't have to like me but you will obey me. I have been entrusted to carry out Elyse's plan for our country and I WILL NOT let her down," Grulek said his voice rising to emphasize his point.

"And furthermore, I will not tolerate insubordination. If you can't carry out my orders I will demote you to below someone that will," the large draelic continued.

The fourth and third general still refused to salute their new prime minister but Grulek was too busy looking through the one bar generals to care.

"Iris, step forward please," the prime minister commanded.

A smaller draelic general, who didn't look very sure of herself stepped forward. Iris was a blue draelic, often considered lesser to the purple draelic so this was to be expected. Her skin was a light blue like the sky on a clear day and her hair was deep purple, long and straight. She moved to the middle where Grulek had been standing and stood at attention with her fist properly at her chin. She kept her dark brown eyes looking straight into Grulek's eyes and said gaining confidence. "Yes sir!"

"You have helped me coordinate the soldiers and the farmers. I have come to rely on your advice and devotion. Iris I appoint you lead general," Grulek said with a smile almost sneaking onto his face.

"I will do my best sir," Iris said as she accepted the five bars and then took a step back to stand between the fourth and third generals.

"Iris will choose her fourth after the ceremonies," Grulek said in a loud voice so that all the soldiers could hear. Then in a quieter voice meant for only the generals to hear he said. "And I would not expect to hold on to those bars, ladies. Changes are coming, the ones who embrace them will be the first to rise." This time he did let a smile slip through but this one was more sinister.

The generals all returned to their seats with several of them mumbling about their uncertainty with Grulek's leadership and some even whispering insults about men in power. After the generals had returned to their seats the priest lit the fire under Elyse's coffin. All the draelic, the generals unhappy with Grulek, even Kriista raised their fists to their chins in salute for their lost queen. Dhrel and Gromthule stood in silence with the draelic, the two of them holding their hands at their backs and lowering their heads in xeltheen tradition.

After the fire was lit and all the draelic had returned to their seats Kriista called for their attention once more.

"Before you leave, my nephew, the king of Xanthan would like to address you," Kriista said in a commanding voice.

She then whispered to Dhrel as he was rising to speak.

"Be sure to speak about Shye as your wife, draelic won't understand betrothal. It will avoid confusion," she said sitting down to let him speak.

Dhrel adjusted his father's clothes as she prepared to speak. They were a bit too small for him, but he had no other clothes fitting for a funeral. The suit from his father was dark blue, with a white undershirt and matching blue pants. Dhrel had to remove all the pins and buttons from the suit to avoid offending any draelic. Lastian's suit was one he wore to diplomatic affairs and so it was adorned with heroic medals of Lascar's reign.

"Hello," Dhrel said unsure of himself. He had never addressed such a large crowd, even worse the crowd was made up of draelic soldiers. "I have come offering a treaty and renewed trade agreements with Xanthan. After the funeral I am returning to Xanthan and I will persuade the council to arrange trade agreements with the farmers." Dhrel was gaining confidence as he spoke.

"We have stock piles of seeds that we will be glad to offer with no payment required. All that we ask is that you trade with us, fairly of course, for the items that we can produce. As you know our lands cannot produce grains like yours and even though we have stockpiles of seeds we must ration them until another solution is found." Dhrel began pacing with his hands behind his back gaining momentum and confidence.

"Your renewed farmlands provide us with the solution we have been looking for. We have many vegetables and livestock to trade. Please consider my offer," Dhrel said concluding his speech. Now his words turned toward the funeral.

"Elyse was very special to me, not only my aunt but my friend. I am honored to be a guest here. In the fight that killed Elyse I also lost my wife, Shye. I pledge the full support of Xanthan to help the draelic free themselves from Lascar's grasp. We will not stop until we defeat him. Xanthan and Norzen will fight as equals, the war is finally over, but a new fight begins." Dhrel then walked back to his chair and the draelic soldiers began to applaud.

In reality the war between Xanthan and Norzen was nothing more than a standoff for centuries. There were never any real battles with casualties, only spying, mistrust and distain for each other. This however did not alleviate the suffering on both sides of the conflict. Norzen's farmlands were devastated by Lascar and with Xanthan refusing to deal with them the draelic were forced to enslave the humans to provide them with food. On the other side, Xanthan's farmlands were ill-suited for producing grain so they stockpiled anything they were able to produce. This caused grain to be rationed out like gold. The common villagers, unable to afford grain began to suffer malnutrition because of this. Not only did they have little grain to eat, feeding livestock also relied on grain. Grazing livestock was time-consuming and required a lot of open land. The common farmer was lucky to raise one or two cows a year, just enough to survive if the food was rationed properly.

After Dhrel's speech Grulek stood and dismissed all the soldiers. The rest of the day was spent with everyone talking about Elyse and their new Xanthan allies. For the first time in centuries the draelic had hope for more than mere survival.

# Chapter 3

The day after the funeral Dhrel, Kriista and Gromthule set out for Xanthan. Winter was almost upon them but without a coffin to slow them down they were able to travel much faster. It only took them two weeks by horse to reach the Xanthan capitol of Goleth. The days had grown much colder but they were able to reach Goleth just as the first snow was falling.

Dhrel and Kriista had never been to Goleth but Gromthule had been there many times. The two royals marveled at the size of the city as they walked through the streets. Goleth was unlike any town they had seen before. The houses were all two stories high with fancy woodwork around the doors and windows. There were no run-down or abandoned houses, the whole city seemed to be pristine. Even when they walked through the market streets they were amazed at how clean it was. There were no street vendors with carts or beggars asking for coins, only decorated store fronts and potential customers walking up and down the walkways.

After the market, the three adventurers came upon the government district. Unlike Tyrillia and Norzen, Xanthan had no royal palace. Instead there were many fancy houses for the council members to live in. This was because even though Xanthan always had a king or queen, they were governed for the most part by nine council members. These council members were elected by the people of Xanthan and served until there was a death or retirement of a council member. The king's or queen's role was still to rule the country but the council members could overrule him or her if they had at least seven votes in opposition. This steep count was not meant to take power away from the king, it was more to keep the king from doing something the people of Xanthan disapproved of, such as going to war. The second function of the council was to deal with the day to day running of the country, things a king or queen was too busy to be concerned with. Most of these decisions were trivial like the best way to irrigate for the outlying towns or whether such-and-such town had the rights to farm the land near it.

In recent years, with Meelaranda's death and Dhrel being too young to rule, the council had taken over the job of the king. Dhrel coming back to accept his place as king would certainly cause confusion and maybe even some hard feelings. Gromthule had warned the young king that he may have to convince the council that he was capable of taking over for his mother. From stories they had heard, the council had become corrupt and most of the members would not be willing to give up their newfound power without a fight.

The council meeting chambers were easy to pick out from the lavish houses that surrounded it. It was the only building that was one story high and it was quite a bit larger in order to hold all the desks and the debating area for the council members. The large double doors in the front of the building were wooden like the rest of the houses but they were decorated with a picturesque scene of one of the previous kings fighting a Sharlok tiger. Gromthule told them that this was one of the first kings of Xanthan, Dolenal. The scene was of Dolenal as a young king, about twenty years old. He had fought a Sharlok tiger single handedly and started the tradition for hunters and huntresses. Any new kings or queens had to be tested this way as well and this was news to Dhrel.

"You mean I have to go kill a poor defenseless tiger to 'prove' that I am good enough to be king?" Dhrel asked.

"Yes, and I wouldn't exactly consider them defenseless," Gromthule answered.

"I think you forgot who you're talking to. The poor thing might as well be a pig I'm slaughtering for all the danger I'll be in," Dhrel said laughing.

Gromthule was amused by the young king's confidence in himself. It was hard to believe that a year ago this young man had come to him for help. He was not wrong though, even a Sharlok tiger would present very little challenge for Dhrel. Dhrel was used to fighting Lascar and forces far more powerful than a simple forest predator. Gromthule pitied the poor tiger that would have to face off against Dhrel.

"Perhaps you can talk them out of it?" Kriista chimed in.

"Oh, this ceremony is very important to the people of Xanthan," Gromthule answered. "They need to have confidence in their king."

"They come to watch right? The council I mean?" Dhrel asked the large druid.

"Yes, they and the lead hunters will be there to make sure you aren't killed," Gromthule said laughing a little.

"Well then, maybe if I just subdue the tiger?" the young king asked.

"That might be acceptable. I've never heard of anyone subduing a tiger, it's probably a bigger feat to 'not' kill it," the large druid answered. Gromthule was again amazed at his student. Dhrel was turning into quite the strategist, often thinking of ways to do something that no one had ever thought of. Gromthule swelled with pride, this student might actually be able to stop Lascar.

The three of them grew quiet as Gromthule opened the large doors. The sight was not quite what they expected. The room's walls were full of books and there were nine desks with chairs. The desks were all lined up four on one side and four on the other. The ninth desk was at the far end, presumably for the lead council member. On the other side of this desk was a short hallway leading to another set of double doors. These doors were also wooden and very plain. The doors were painted white with gold handles.

"I assume that is the council debate chambers?" Dhrel asked, motioning to the white doors.

"Yes, since they are not in here, I'm guessing they are debating something," Gromthule replied.

Kriista remained quiet. This was not the kind of government she was used to, it was all new and interesting. She had always assumed that every country did things the same way. The Xanthan way of doing things seemed very bizarre.

Gromthule made his way to the debate chamber doors and opened them slowly to avoid interrupting whatever debate was going on. The room was quite large and spacious. There was a stage with a throne and a row of chairs on either side of the throne. In front of the stage were nine chairs arranged similar to the tables in the other room. On the stage currently was a xeltheen man waving his arms around speaking about the draelic while he paced.

The xeltheen man wore important looking open robes, they were green with gold trim on the sleeves and the chest. Under his robes he wore a white shirt and brown pants. As they looked around they noticed that all the council members were dressed exactly the same. The man on stage had a soft face, the face of someone who had never worked a day in his life. His long straight black hair was in a ponytail. Every time he said the word draelic his face would look as though he smelled something rotten and the way he said draelic implied that he hated them.

"How do we know the draelic are sincere?" the man asked the room. "I mean what proof do we have? Just the word of some commoners at the border? No, I propose we deny them access to Xanthan as we have for centuries. There is no reason to trust these savages. It may be a rouse so they can find our grain stores and steal them."

It was then that the councilman realized they had company. He didn't recognize any of them except for Kriista. The councilman's face turned pale like he had seen death coming for him. The councilman sputtered and spat, trying to find an excuse to quit talking and leave the stage.

"Um, uh, I, I'm done. Someone else can have the floor," He said returning to his seat, nearly falling from the stage.

All the council members turned to see what had quieted the blowhard who normally would have taken the whole afternoon emphasizing his point. Seeing their guests, one of the council rose from his seat and walked to meet them.

"My king, queen Kriista. It is a pleasure to see you. I was worried when you missed our appointment last month. I hope all is well?" the councilman said bowing in xeltheen tradition.

Dhrel and Gromthule bowed in return but Kriista, not knowing how to respond, placed her fist to her chest.

"I have news if I may speak to the council," Dhrel said in a tone that suggested he had bad news.

"Of course, my king. My name is Lethian, pleased to finally meet you," Lethian said bowing again and then returning to his seat.

Lethian didn't quite fit in with the rest of the council members. He looked similar to them, he was after all xeltheen. But he had a rough face, a working man's face. He was also very polite, whereas the other council members were giving their guests looks of disapproval. Lethian had long blond hair tied up in a ponytail just like the rest of the council members, but something about him told them that he didn't quite fit in here.

Dhrel made his way to the stage followed by Kriista and then Gromthule. Kriista and Gromthule took seats on either side of the throne while Dhrel stayed center stage to address the council.

"I apologize for missing our meeting on my birthday," Dhrel started. He was a bit nervous and not quite sure what to expect from the council.

"It could not be avoided. My betrothed, Shye and queen Kriista's wife, Elyse have been killed by Lascar," Dhrel stated sadly.

The council members began muttering to themselves. As their voices grew louder Dhrel raised his voice to get their attention once again.

"Queen Kriista is here to offer us a peace treaty and trade agreement with Norzen. The draelic have freed themselves from Lascar. With our help they can stay that way," Dhrel concluded and took his seat.

The blowhard was the first to rise and take the stage. He had apparently gotten more courage after realizing that Kriista wasn't going to kill him. He stood sideways so that he could address both the council and Dhrel at the same time.

"What guarantees do we have that they won't just steal our grain?" the blowhard said in a condescending tone.

"None," Dhrel said causing some of the council members to gasp at the bluntness of his statement.

"What we have is an opportunity. I propose we give them half of our grain stores. In exchange they will trade with us for newly harvested grain in the fall," Dhrel said with confidence.

"Just 'give' them the grain?" the blowhard said raising his hands feigning exasperation. "Why not give them our livestock, our children. With no grain we might as well just let them have it all."

Lethian then took to the stage, he took the side opposite of the blowhard facing him.

"I see the merit in king Dhrel's proposal. At the rate we are going, we have maybe ten or twenty years before we run out of grain. We need to give the draelic a chance. This benefits us as much as them."

"Oh, you would be the first to side with the king. You were Lastian's friend and Meela's confidant," the blowhard alleged.

One of the council members in the audience stood. The woman was dressed like all the others except that her robe had double lines for the gold trim.

"You will refer to queen Meelaranda by her full name and title Godrich," the councilwoman said.

"I apologize," Godrich said bowing to the councilwoman who returned to her seat.

Dhrel realized that this woman must be the current lead council member. Dhrel wasn't sure if her title should be foreman, forewoman, or foreperson so he decided to ask.

"Who are you miss, if I may ask?" Dhrel asked trying to be polite but it just came out as condescending he thought.

The woman rose to address Dhrel.

"I am foreperson Shia, my king. I apologize for interrupting them but protocol must be met," Shia said and then sat down again.

"No, no I wasn't scolding you, in fact I agree. I just wanted to know what to call you so I could thank you for correcting Godrich on the use of my mother's name foreperson Shia," Dhrel said satisfied that he had sorted out any confusion. "Please continue," he said motioning to Lethian.

"I think that's all that needs to be said. I put it up for a vote. All agreed to give the draelic half our grain stores?" Lethian said looking now at the audience and raising his hand. Six of the other council members also raised their hands, including Shia.

"All opposed," he continued. Only Godrich raised his hand.

"All abstaining," he finished. The council member who had not voted stood and walked up to the stage.

"I am councilman Dunam," he said introducing himself to Kriista as he bowed. "I would like to hear from you before I cast my vote, if that is alright," Dunam said looking at Dhrel for approval.

"Yes, that's a good idea," Dhrel agreed. "Would you mind?" he said looking at Kriista.

Kriista stood and walked to the center of the stage. The xeltheen all looked petrified, except for Lethian and Shia. Every one of them knew Kriista's reputation, if there was one draelic they should be scared of, it was her. Although no one credited her for killing anyone, they all knew she could not be beaten and had a bad temper.

"I thank you for the chance to reconcile our countries. Norzen will pledge half of the grain harvested next fall in exchange for the grain you provide us. We don't wish to be greedy, only to survive. We also would like to open trade with Xanthan. You have many things we can't grow, and our livestock has dwindled to the point where it will take us years to be able to feed ourselves. As you have noticed, our guards have left the border. We have no interest in this war with Xanthan. The war was Lascar's doing, we want peace." When she had finished she was surprised that most of the council members, excluding Godrich, applauded.

"I change my vote to agree," Dunam said and returned to his seat.

"The vote passes. As soon as it's safe to transport the grain in the spring we will send it to Stone's Rest for distribution," Lethian said to Kriista. He then bowed to her and left the stage.

"You're all fools," Godrich said, unwilling to let the matter go.

"The motion passed. Godrich, return to your seat," Shia scolded.

Godrich begrudgingly went back to his seat. The sight made Dhrel think of a child throwing a fit.

Shia then took center stage and addressed the council.

"I motion that we move along with the choosing of a foreperson for king Dhrel," she said in a commanding tone.

"I second," Lethian spoke up.

"Motion passes, anyone interested in the position will present themselves to king Dhrel. The appointment will be tomorrow at morning session as we only have a few hours left today," Shia instructed and then took her seat.

The rest of the day drug on with countless boring speeches about how each person would better the Xanthan society. Many spoke about helping the poor and cleaning up the townships but mostly Dhrel thought it was all just political nonsense. Not one of the council members actually intended to do anything they said. After three hours of speeches Dhrel was so bored that he was glad to see Shia take the stage. Perhaps she might have something serious to say. Every council member had been on stage saying the same boring speech with only small variations except for Shia and Lethian.

"That concludes our presentations and tomorrow at morning session Dhrel will decide. I thank you for your time," Shia said as she started towards the doors.

Dhrel stood up and began to walk after her.

"Shia? Why didn't you speak?" Dhrel asked.

"I'm retiring after you choose my replacement," Shia said looking almost sad.

"But why? I was going to choose you. You have what I'm looking for in a foreperson," Dhrel stated.

"I'm one-hundred ninety-five years old, young man. I want time to spend with my family. I have forty-three grandchildren and this job takes up too much time," she responded smiling as she talked about her grandchildren.

"I understand, but seriously. None of these people care about the poor or the townships. They only care about getting the job, telling me what they think I want to hear," Dhrel said his frustration rising.

"You can choose anyone that is a council member, not just the ones making speeches," Shia said winking at Dhrel.

"Thank you," Dhrel said bowing to Shia. That's exactly what he needed to hear. If he couldn't choose Shia he could choose Lethian. The only council member that didn't annoy him. Lethian seemed like he truly cared about the people of Xanthan, not just his position. Dhrel searched the crowd and finally found Lethian standing near one of the desks shuffling papers.

"Do you mind if I call you Lethian?" Dhrel asked.

"No, my king, you can call me whatever you want," Lethian said bowing.

"We're not in session anymore, you can call me Dhrel," the young king assured him.

"Yes, of course, I get caught up in the pomp and procedure some times. Drives my brother crazy," the councilman said with a smile.

"What did you do before you became a councilman?" Dhrel asked curiously?

"My family has always been cattle farmers. Actually I guess I still am. I go back to visit the farm when we are on break," Lethian said, his smile growing.

"I would like to name you foreperson," the young king said more seriously now.

"Are you sure you want a farmer leading things around here?" Lethian asked in disbelief.

"You have what I'm looking for. I want someone with honesty," Dhrel responded.

"Well if it's honesty you want then I accept," the councilman responded.

"Tomorrow then," Dhrel said as he bowed. Lethian bowed in response and headed out the door.

Gromthule then lead the way to the house that was reserved for the royal family. It was nearly identical to the other houses with the exception of the Xanthan royal seal on the front door. The house was large enough that the three of them could sleep there comfortably. It would be a nice change from camping out in the cold autumn air.

# Chapter 4

The next morning Dhrel woke and began making breakfast. Even with Shye gone, Dhrel continued his ritual of making breakfast for everyone each morning. Kriista usually woke before him but the few times she attempted to make breakfast it was apparent that she was an even worse cook than Dhrel. After breakfast was finished Dhrel called Gromthule and Kriista to come eat.

Kriista sat absentmindedly picking at her food. Since losing his ability to sense emotions, Dhrel didn't notice that something was bothering his aunt, but Gromthule did.

"What's on your mind today, my dear?" the large druid asked.

"I think it might be better if Dhrel stayed here in Goleth," she replied. Kriista then looked at Dhrel. "We need to talk about this. You don't have magic anymore. I think you need time before you face Lascar."

"I'll be fine," Dhrel answered curtly, staring at his breakfast. It was apparent that he didn't want to talk about it.

But Kriista felt that she needed to get her point across so she picked up her spoon and threw it at Dhrel across the large table. She aimed for his head, it was just a wooden spoon, it wouldn't hurt her nephew. Dhrel, still looking at his breakfast, reached up and caught the spoon right before it hit him in the forehead.

"You don't need magic, why do I?" the young king asked, still looking at his food.

"I stand corrected," Kriista stated.

"Dhrel is quite a capable fighter now. Not that you shouldn't worry about him, but he is not the same boy from a year ago," Gromthule added. "Also, his loss of magic might only be temporary. Strong emotional changes can cause this type of thing."

Gromthule had noticed that since Shye's death, Dhrel had changed. It wasn't just the loss of his magic that was different. Dhrel was more calm and calculating. Where once the young king would have charged after Lascar in anger, Dhrel was now content to patiently wait for his best chance to strike. Perhaps the death of his fiancé had taught him a lesson, one that can't be taught from a book or sparing lessons. Perhaps Dhrel had finally realized that in war, people die.

"So my magic might just come back some day?" Dhrel asked, now interested in the conversation.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't wait for it. No one has ever gone through what you did. You lost half of yourself, it might change the way your magic works," Gromthule said. "Learning to fight without magic will help you, even if your magic returns," The large druid added, trying to convince the young king that his training was not a waste of time.

"Yes, I can see that. You can't count on magic, it's very..." Dhrel paused trying to think of the word to describe it. "fickle."

"Exactly, I've gone years without any magic only to have it come back and be different, forcing me to relearn everything," Gromthule concluded.

Dhrel turned his eyes back to his breakfast, lost in thought. While Kriista continued to stare at her nephew, worrying that he was not ready to face Lascar again.

Gromthule broke the silence as he rose to put his dishes in the sink.

"It's almost time for you to address the council again," the large druid announced.

Kriista and Dhrel cleaned up their dishes as well and then headed off with Gromthule toward the council building.

Upon entering the council chambers, Dhrel noticed that all the council members were already there. They were in the debate chambers once again, discussing how to coordinate with the draelic for the shipments of grain they intended to supply. When Shia noticed Dhrel arrive she addressed him.

"King Dhrel, right on time. I hope the house was adequate," she said.

"It was quite nice, thank you," Dhrel replied.

"We will suspend this discussion for later. I'm sure the king isn't interested in the details," Shia stated, addressing the council.

Dhrel walked to the throne followed by Kriista and Gromthule. As the others sat, Dhrel turned to stand before the council.

"I have made my decision. I appoint Lethian as lead council upon Shia's departure." Dhrel was amused at his ability to speak like the Xanthan council when he chose to. He would just remember Draylen's voice in his head and then try to speak like his grandpa used to.

Godrich was outraged. He quickly stood up ready to protest, but Shia held up her hand to silence him.

"King Dhrel has made his decision. I will be resigning in the spring, at which time Lethian will take my position. As always, anyone who doesn't agree with the king has the right to resign their post," Shia said looking at Godrich who immediately sat down. She then turned to Dhrel and said in a whisper so that no one else could hear. "I know you're not actually king yet but Xanthan needs a king, at least in appearance. We will still have the official taking of the throne ceremony next year, but I think the Xanthan people need to think of you as their king in the meantime."

Dhrel replied in a whisper to match hers. "I understand, this year has brought many changes. The people need something stable. I..."

Before Dhrel could finish his sentence the doors to the council chambers exploded, throwing splinters of wood into the room. Dhrel stared at the entrance and could see the chamber guards were dead on the floor. Then he noticed Lascar walking into the council chambers, followed by Zephillia.

Lascar looked exceptionally evil today, he had replaced his dirt brown robe with an ornate one more suitable for mages. His new robe was black and laced with gold thread along the open front and hood. Underneath the robe he had on a black shirt and pants, also laced with gold thread at the seams. Zephillia wore a purple robe similar to Lascars, with silver thread instead of gold.

Everyone in the room stood to face Lascar and Kriista began to feel her hatred again. She leapt from her seat and charged her father. But as she was about to pass Dhrel, Lascar raised his hand and everyone in the room was frozen including Kriista. Dhrel felt a strange sensation, his body tingled like a foot that had fallen asleep and was just now getting the blood back. He could feel that Lascar was trying to paralyze him with the others but he could still move. Dhrel thought quickly, he needed to pretend he was frozen. This was one of those situations where patience was the correct strategy.

"You coward, I will kill you for what you've done!" Kriista yelled, obviously overtaken by hatred once again.

"Hush daughter, I'm here to speak to Dhrel. I'll deal with you later," Lascar sneered as he approached Dhrel.

"What is it you want from me?" Dhrel asked calmly.

"I'm here to offer you one last chance," Lascar said in a condescending tone.

"I will never join you. You have nothing to offer me," the young king responded through gritted teeth.

"I do, actually," Lascar said motioning to Zephillia.

Zephillia stepped forward transforming herself into a copy of Shye.

The sight of Shye shocked Dhrel. He couldn't believe how much he missed her. How he wished he could hold her, feel her thoughts in his head once more. But this was not Shye. Dhrel could feel the anger rising inside himself. He wanted to kill this imposter for daring to pretend to be his beautiful wife. The feeling nearly overwhelmed him, but then he remembered his goal. Killing Zephillia would give Lascar a chance to respond, he couldn't take that risk. Kriista was here, the only family he had left. If Lascar killed her, the young king would never forgive himself. Dhrel knew he had to be smarter, more cautious, if he wanted to win this.

"It's not really Shye," Dhrel responded, pushing down the anger.

"It could be," the evil king responded. "I can bring her back, just like I did with your grandmother."

Zephillia then transformed back into herself.

"I want no part of your sick, twisted magic," Dhrel said in disgust. "And I don't consider her my grandmother any more than I consider you my grandfather."

"Well then, I guess I'll have to kill you," Lascar stated. "I see that killing your wife has weakened your magic considerably. While I doubt you're a threat right now, you might get your magic back. Also, I need you out of the way so I can take back my kingdom."

Lascar then turned his back on Dhrel to face the council. Dhrel slowly moved his hand down to the short sword on his belt. He had left his full swords at the royal quarters but at least he still had his short sword. Stabbing Lascar in the back was tempting but Dhrel knew he needed to hit the evil king's heart, he would have to wait until Lascar turned around again.

"I am revoking Xanthan's right to their own government. You will now be treated like the humans." Lascar took a few steps forward, grinning in evil contentment. "I tried to give you some freedoms but you throw them in my face by plotting with the draelic to overthrow me. How unfortunate."

Lascar turned back to Dhrel who was ready. Dhrel plunged the short sword through Lascar's heart and the evil king slumped over grasping the blade that was now in his chest. Zephillia sprang forward attacking Dhrel but she was no fighter. Dhrel grabbed her shoulders and forced her head down on his knee. Zephillia fell backward and slid off the front of the stage, nearly unconscious. As Dhrel turned back to deal with Lascar Kriista grabbed Dhrel by the throat with one hand and lifted him off the ground. Dhrel struggled against her but Kriista was far stronger than he was.

"I can't stop, he's making me do this!" Kriista yelled.

Lascar got to his feet with the sword still in his chest.

"It will take more than a sword to kill me," Lascar stated, pulling the sword from his chest. "I see you are immune to magic now, quite a trick." Lascar held out the sword and Kriista grabbed it with her other hand. "Now kill him!" the evil king yelled.

"NO!" Kriista yelled as she thrust the sword into Dhrel's chest, piercing his heart. The young king fell limp and shut his eyes.

Lascar then turned to help his wife to her feet. "All you alright?" he asked her as she tried to stand, still a bit dizzy.

"I'll be ok," Zephillia said.

While Lascar was distracted Dhrel opened his eyes and grabbed the sword from his chest. Being a short sword it was perfectly balanced for throwing, a skill he had practiced with Kriista for weeks during their long journey. Dhrel threw the sword at Zephillia, if he couldn't kill Lascar he would try Zephillia. Perhaps it might distract the evil king long enough for Dhrel to get out of Kriista's grasp.

But Dhrel was not quite the marksman that Kriista was and the sword missed its mark. Instead of hitting Zephillia in the heart it was off a few inches, but Zephillia wasn't as strong as Lascar. She fell backward from the force of the sword, landing squarely on her back, hitting her head on the stone floor. Zephillia wasn't going to be getting up from this blow so easily and Lascar knew it, but he had to deal with Dhrel first.

"I'm not so easy to kill either!" Dhrel yelled at his grandfather.

"I'll just have to try harder then," Lascar sneered, looking at Kriista again. "Rip out his heart," the evil king commanded.

Before Kriista could move, Dhrel felt something. Something was rising inside him again, he recognized the feeling. Dhrel quickly placed the palm of his hand on Kriista's forehead and shut his eyes. As he concentrated a blue light engulfed his hand and then Kriista's eyes began to glow with the same blue light. His aunt released her grip on him and fell to the ground. Dhrel hoped that he hadn't just killed Kriista but he was relieved to see that she was still breathing, he had only dazed her.

"You still have magic!?!" Lascar exclaimed.

"It would seem so," Dhrel said as he walked towards the evil king.

Lascar held up his hand attempting to drain Dhrel but nothing happened. He then shot a red beam at Dhrel, striking him squarely in the chest but the beam just faded as it hit Dhrel. When Dhrel reached Lascar he thrust his hand out into Lascar's chest, grabbing his heart. Lascar's eyes were filled with fear, his grandson was stronger than he had imagined.

The seconds seemed to last hours as Lascar's eyes searched the room looking for anything to save himself. At last he saw it, the throne. He couldn't use magic on Dhrel and not one person here besides Kriista could overpower Dhrel but the throne was extremely heavy, made out of solid metal. Lascar quickly raised his hand and the throne flew at Dhrel's back. The sounds made everyone cringe as the enormous throne broke several of Dhrel's bones causing the young king to release Lascar's heart.

Lascar saw his chance to escape. The evil king grabbed his wife with one arm as he held his chest with the other and ran out of the room. Dhrel had won once again.

# Chapter 5

By the next morning Dhrel's wounds had completely healed. There was no sign of the sword wound to his chest and his bones had completely recovered. Dhrel was making breakfast for everyone, acting as if the day before was just another day when Kriista walked into the kitchen. She hadn't spoken to Dhrel since the incident. The young king wasn't quite sure why but he figured it was either embarrassment or guilt over what she had done the day before.

"Dhrel, I want to say I'm sorry. I am weak, perhaps it is me that should stay home," the draelic queen said regretfully. "I'm a liability."

Dhrel laughed at this as he continued portioning the food on to the plates.

"What's so funny?" the draelic queen asked.

"I was just thinking of how I couldn't have beat him without you," The young king replied.

"But I almost killed you. What if he uses me again?" Kriista asked.

"I didn't just knock you out. I gave you something." Dhrel paused searching for a way to explain what he had felt. "It was sort of like a dam or a wall in your mind to keep him out. It won't protect you from his magic but it will keep him out of your head. Also, I still need your help training. Yesterday was messy, and I was lucky. I need to do better."

"Oh," Kriista said realizing how much power her nephew had. Dhrel was following in his father's footsteps, perhaps even surpassing Lastian in some ways. Her face now beamed with pride. Her nephew might be the only person who could stop Lascar, and he wanted her help.

Gromthule walked into the room, overhearing part of the conversation.

"And don't you go thinking I don't need you either," Dhrel said smiling at the large druid. "I need to do better mentally as well as physically."

"I'm not so sure about that. Even when Zephillia goaded you with Shye's form you kept your cool. I'm very proud," Gromthule said.

"Yes, but I almost lost it. I wanted to rip her head off and nearly did. I could use more practice," the young king countered.

"But in the end you didn't. A victory nonetheless," Gromthule responded, accepting the plate of food from Dhrel.

The three of them then sat at the table and enjoyed their food in silence. When they were finished, Gromthule cleared the table and returned with a map. The large druid sprawled the map out across the table while Dhrel and Kriista stared with curiosity. The map was of Lascaria. Neither of them had ever seen a map detailing the whole continent.

"We need to head here," Gromthule said pointing to the southern edge of the map which was labeled 'The Desert'. "Lascar will try to head there to retrieve the artifact first. I'm sure he realizes now that he needs more power to defeat you and the artifact might just be enough."

"Winter is almost here. Can you survive the cold?" Dhrel asked the large druid.

"Yes," Gromthule replied transforming into a creature that neither of them had ever seen before.

The creature was enormous, standing on its hind legs its head would have hit the ceiling of the house. It was covered entirely in fur and had large claws and teeth. Gromthule then returned to his druid form.

"It's called a bear. They live in northern Xanthan near the mountains. They are quite capable of living in the cold," the large druid stated.

"Ok then, I think we should leave as soon as we get some supplies together," Kriista responded.

With that the three of them went out into the city to procure supplies for their long, cold journey. Dhrel, being the king went to the council and requested grain to take on their trip. Even the closely guarded grain would not be refused to the future king who had just saved the entire council on the previous day. Kriista went to the market to buy dried meat. After the snow began to fall animals would be hard to find, most of them hibernating or living in caves until the spring. Gromthule set out to the market as well, but he was searching for dried fruits and vegetables. Being a druid who had lived off the land most of his life, he was the perfect one to determine which of the dried plants would survive the long trip. He was also the only one who knew exactly which plants they would need to get the right vitamins, since all the plants would be covered with snow. They only needed enough to reach the druid encampment where they could resupply before continuing on across the swamplands to the desert.

Finally as night began to fall, the three of them returned to their temporary home and decided to spend one last night there. They all talked excitedly about the coming journey. Dhrel and Kriista had never been to the swamplands nor the desert so they were anxious to see them. Gromthule, on the other hand, had been to both and tried to prepare them again with tales of the creatures they would encounter. After a good night's sleep the three of them gathered the supplies they would need and then set off towards the druid camp.

# Chapter 6

The trip to the druid encampment was long but generally uneventful. For the first week Gromthule had transformed into a large horse and carried Dhrel and Kriista until the snow began to get too deep. The three of them felt it would be cruel to ride real horses because the cold of winter would undoubtedly kill them. Dhrel and Kriista were apprehensive about riding Gromthule but he assured them that he had posed as a horse many times and would have no trouble carrying them. After their first week, when the snowfall became too heavy and the cold had set in, they had to walk. And even though Gromthule had carried them nearly half way, the rest of the trip took them until spring. After resupplying at the druid camp and spending a few days there recovering, they set off into the swamps.

The first day in the swamps Dhrel and Kriista marveled at the beauty of the place. The edge of the swamplands was particularly curious because instead of gradually changing into a swamp the forest just abruptly stopped and the swamp began. Even Gromthule had no explanation for why the change was so sudden.

The swamplands were both beautiful and creepy at the same time. The trees were not like the trees of the forest. The swamp trees looked as though they were drooping downward, bending to touch the soft, muddy ground. The trees were also closer together than in the forest, blocking out most of the sunlight making the swamp very dark. They had to watch their step carefully. Even though there was very little vegetation on the ground the moss and peat under their feet would sometimes obscure a sudden drop off that might cause them to sink. For this reason they carefully followed Gromthule who led the way with a stick to check for sinkholes.

The animal life of the swamps was also very curious. They had seen a few creatures that Gromthule had called crocodiles and several breeds of snakes, they had even seen a few geleth. They were careful to keep their distance from the geleth and crocodiles, though neither would pose a serious threat to any of them. In the swamps Kriista hunted for small mammals for them to eat so they could conserve their supplies for the desert. A few times she had brought back strange creatures that Gromthule had told them were unfit for consumption due to the poisons in their hides or claws, but Kriista quickly began to recognize these and stuck to hunting the ones similar to rodents.

On the fifth day Gromthule began to notice that the shadows off in the distance were eerily quiet and sometimes he could swear he saw them move. Kriista, being a good tracker also noticed this, but with her inexperience in the swamps she assumed it was animals. As they were eating their lunch that day Gromthule decided to inspect these shadows more closely. He excused himself from the meal stating that he needed to relieve himself. As soon as he was concealed by a few large tree trunks that had grown very close together he removed his robe and transformed into a small cat, slightly larger than a house cat with completely black fur. The form was not soft and docile like a house cat having a sleek muscular form resembling a panther but much smaller.

The cat Gromthule climbed up one of the large tree trunks and snuck across the branches heading to the east, where he had seen the shadows. His cat eyes lit up the dim swamp like a bright summer day but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. The small feline he had chosen shifted its vision and he could now see heat. He glanced back and saw the heat from Kriista and Dhrel. Dhrel's aura was strange, Gromthule couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. Even in the dark cold swamp Dhrel was glowing bright blue, whereas Kriista was the normal orange-red color of heat that Gromthule expected from a person. He turned again to the east and continued to search for whatever was lurking in the shadows. His observation about Dhrel would have to wait for another time.

When Gromthule was far enough away from their camp that he could barely hear Dhrel and Kriista speaking he noticed a dark red figure. This creature was concealing its heat, but not completely. What kind of strange creature could do this? Whatever it was, it was a master of camouflage, who knows how long it had been following them. Gromthule snuck closer to the form, trying to figure out what manner of creature had such skill. When Gromthule was right above the creature looking down on it the creature moved. It wasn't a creature after all, it was humanoid. The creature looked up at Gromthule, its eyes cold, giving off no heat just like the swamp floor. The creature was also much smaller than a human, perhaps only four feet tall. On the ends of its bony fingers were small claws like the claws of a cat. It was then that he knew what it was, a necromancer.

Gromthule scurried back across the branches toward Dhrel and Kriista trying to roar in warning but all that came out was a small meow. He was in the wrong form to sound a warning but this form was fast and he needed to reach them before the necromancer did. Gromthule continued on, followed closely by the necromancer. The necromancer shot a ball of energy that to Gromthule's heat sensitive eyes appeared deep purple and cold. The ball of cold hit a branch near him, nearly causing him to fall but his feline reflexes and speed kept him moving forward.

Kriista was the first to hear the noise as the branch froze and fell to the ground. Then she heard a cat scurrying across branches and a humanoid running on the squishy moss-covered ground. As the necromancer came into view Dhrel also noticed it.

The necromancer was clothed in a black hooded robe with no opening in the front and no adornments. He, Dhrel assumed based on the figures build and how it ran, had a grey sallow looking face. It was as if the necromancer's skin had been pulled tight across its skull revealing the bones underneath. Its eyes were white and lifeless and its hood was down showing long grey stringy hair. Its teeth were white and sharpened to a point. The creature was also wailing, which sounded something like a young girl screaming only in an octave higher.

As the creature got closer, Dhrel realized that this was no human renegade mage and it wasn't a druid who had turned to evil magic. This thing was really some kind of creature that appeared humanoid but wasn't.

When the creature was near enough to them it started throwing balls of cold magic at them. Gromthule jumped to the ground and transformed into a geleth. The geleth curled up into a large ball like a boulder and absorbed the first two cold balls. The effect of the magic forced Gromthule to revert to his druid form as he fell unconscious.

The creature then began throwing cold balls at Kriista who quickly dodged them. She ran at the creature, drawing her swords. She dodged several more cold balls and then when she finally reached the creature it threw up both hands and a wave of cold hit Kriista like a brick wall. The draelic queen flew backwards and landed on her back, the cold also knocking her unconscious.

The creature then turned to Dhrel with its evil sharp toothed grin. Dhrel started walking slowly toward the creature speaking to it.

"I'm not sure if you can understand me but I don't want to hurt you. Leave my friends alone and I'll let you go," Dhrel said in a calm voice, trying to reason with the creature.

The creature stared at Dhrel curiously and Dhrel stopped, almost to Kriista. Dhrel wasn't quite sure if it understood him or if the creature was stunned by Dhrel's lack of action. Then the creature reached down and grabbed Kriista by the leg. It began dragging her off and Dhrel raised his voice.

"Let her go or I will be forced to hurt you!" the young king yelled at the creature.

The necromancer turned and threw a cold ball at Dhrel. When the cold magic hit Dhrel it dissipated just like Lascar's magic had and the look on the creatures face changed to a mixture of fear and anger. The creature dropped Kriista's leg and raised both hands summoning another wall of cold. Dhrel began walking again and walked right through the barrier, absorbing it as he moved through it. The creature reached for a small dagger attached to its belt and thrust it at Dhrel but the young king grabbed the creature's wrist and flipped it over onto its back. As Dhrel released the creature's arm it scrambled to its feet and ran off into the swamp. The creature wailed again but this time the screeching sounded more like a cry for help or maybe it was in pain.

Dhrel carried Kriista back to the camp and laid her carefully with her head on one of the supply bags. He then turned Gromthule over on to his back to make sure he was alive before searching for the large druids robes to cover him up with. When Dhrel returned with the robes Gromthule was sitting up holding his head but Kriista was still knocked out.

"Well, that didn't go as well as I'd hoped," Gromthule said smiling at Dhrel.

"I think you need to dodge more Grom. Those cold spells pack a punch," Dhrel suggested, joining the druid in laughter.

"I've seen those creatures before but never actually fought one. I guess I'll chalk that up to a learning experience. Is she ok?" the large druid asked, looking at Kriista.

"I think she'll be fine. It hit her with some sort of cold wall, well rather she hit the wall," Dhrel answered, still laughing.

"That's not funny," Kriista said still lying down but very much awake. "Oh, my head feels like I got hit with a tree," she said sitting up with both hands on her head.

"I realized how my magic has changed," the young king said, returning to more serious thoughts. "I'm not just immune to magic, I'm absorbing it. I can feel the rush of power like from the fire."

"That is interesting. You continue to surprise me," Gromthule replied.

"Those 'things' better watch out. Dhrel the magic sponge is not to be trifled with," Kriista said, seeing her chance to get back at her nephew. Kriista and Gromthule both burst into laughter.

After a few seconds Dhrel gave up trying to remain serious and joined them in laughter. Dhrel was happy that Kriista was able to laugh. Elyse had been a good influence on the draelic queen. How he missed his other aunt, but at least he still had Kriista.

"We will need to be more careful from now on. That was a lesser necromancer. It will bring friends, maybe even its master if it comes back," Gromthule said, calming his laugher.

After finishing their food, the three of them gathered their supplies and continued on their way to the desert. They were only two days, maybe less, from the edge of the desert, if they could keep going at a brisk pace the necromancers might not even find them before they left the swamps.

# Chapter 7

As night approached the next day Gromthule realized that they were not going to make it out of the swamp before dark. The swamp was a dangerous place at night and they had nearly a full days walk before they entered the desert. Despite the fact that the necromancers were probably hunting them, Gromthule decided that they should make camp for the night. As dangerous as the necromancers were, the snakes, scorpions and venomous spiders which hunted at night were a greater risk. Sitting around a large campfire was the best protection from these venomous predators that stalked the night.

Dhrel had chosen to take the first watch that evening since Kriista and Grom had both taken their turns on previous nights. While they slept Dhrel kept a look out, occasionally seeing some of the bolder spiders that tried to get close to the fire. These large spiders, whose bodies were nearly the size of a grown man's head, couldn't stand the bright light of the camp fire. As long as Dhrel kept the fire glowing brightly the spiders, who used heat vision to track their targets, wouldn't be able to see Dhrel or his two sleeping companions. In fact, some of the spiders had gotten close enough that the light from the fire seemed to cause them physical pain. These brave spiders would end up running off screaming, a horrible and eerie sound that gave Dhrel chills every time.

Hours went by and the spiders slowly began to realize that the bright light was painful and not some large meal, so they stopped trying. In the silence that followed Dhrel began to succumb to his weariness. Within a few minutes the young king began to see images of Shye. How much he missed her. What he wouldn't give to hold her one last time, smell her hair, hear her voice. While Shye was alive Dhrel's every waking thought was about having sex with her but with Shye gone the young king missed her terribly. Not the sex, he had barely given sex a second thought since her death. He missed her company, her laugh, even the condescending tone she got whenever he had done something she disapproved of. What he wouldn't give to talk to her one last time.

The image of Shye in his dream began to take on an angelic glow. Her beautiful red hair began moving as if a breeze was lifting it towards him. Shye held her arms out to her side and the delicate, almost translucent dress she was wearing began flowing like her hair. She was so beautiful, so perfect. Dhrel held his arms out to welcome her as she floated towards him. As she floated closer to Dhrel she smiled at him but when she opened her mouth to speak a strange sound came out. The sound reminded the young king of a thousand whispers, all in different languages, none of which was Tyrillian. The sound continued to grow louder and louder. The image of Shye disappeared in a puff of smoke and Dhrel realized he had fallen asleep.

Dhrel scrambled to his feet trying to figure out where the million voices were coming from. He looked down at Gromthule and Kriista, how could they sleep through all this noise? As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes Dhrel noticed that the sun was rising, he had been asleep for hours. The voices continued to grow louder and the young king put his hands to his ears to block the deafening sound. But his hands didn't block any of the noise, it was all in his head. He was the only one that could hear the million whispering voices and they were getting louder and closer.

Dhrel took his hands off his ears and scanned the surrounding trees for signs of anything threatening but there was nothing there. He continued listening to the sounds, attempting to make out what was being said but the young king was now certain it was another language. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. It was then that Dhrel realized why he hadn't noticed anything before. He slowly moved his gaze upward. In the trees above them was nearly twenty lesser necromancers, all looking down on him.

"Wake up Kris," Dhrel whispered as he pushed Kriista with his foot.

Then Dhrel was overwhelmed by the million voices all copying him. "Wake up Kris." It was then that Dhrel realized, they were trying to communicate with him but they didn't know what language he spoke.

"Hello," Dhrel said and the million voices all copied. "My name is Dhrel." This time the million voices all said "My name is" but instead of saying Dhrel there was a thousand different sounds all at once. They were learning and trying to say their names instead of his. Dhrel decided to try something different this time. If he could hear their thoughts, perhaps they could hear his.

This time he thought his words instead of speaking. "We mean you no harm." The million voices all echoed his words in unison again. Dhrel thought to himself again. "What is it you want?" This time the voices didn't copy him, instead there were a million versions of "Help" or "Help us" all overlapping, none of them in sync.

"What help do you need?" the young king thought to the creatures, who now awakened feelings of curiosity instead of fear from Dhrel.

Some of the voices thought "Save us from him," others thought "Free us from the master," while still others thought "Stop him.", or even "Punish him."

The overlapping voices were getting hard to understand, it was very confusing to the young king. He decided if this was going to be the way he had to communicate with these creatures he needed to speak to just one of them.

"Can I please speak to only one of you? I'm new to this and you are confusing me," he thought to the creatures.

Soon one voice responded, sounding more confident than the rest. "I speak for family." The word came out as family but Dhrel sensed that the creature didn't really mean family in the traditional way. It was apparent that communicating in Tyrillian was not easy for the creature. Also, as a million voices Dhrel couldn't determine much about them but as a single voice he realized it sounded like a child.

"Thank you," Dhrel thought. "I am not used to speaking to so many at once."

"Speak not easy to you. Help understand. Speak us long words," the lone creature thought to Dhrel.

If this had been said aloud, Dhrel probably would have misunderstood but since the creature was thinking directly to him, he understood the meaning behind the words. The creature wanted an example of Tyrillian, a story perhaps, something to give them more of the language to learn from.

Before Dhrel could tell them a story Kriista finally woke from her sleep and saw the necromancers. She jumped to her feet and kicked Gromthule. "Necromancers!" she yelled at Gromthule who also jumped to his feet.

Dhrel turned to Kriista with his hands up. "Please, they mean us no harm. I think they need help."

"But the one that attacked us?" Kriista questioned.

"I think it was scared. They sound like children," Dhrel replied.

"What do you mean? I don't hear anything," the draelic queen responded.

"They speak without words," Dhrel said and Kriista realized why only her nephew could hear them.

"Thank you, we understand your language now," the creature thought to Dhrel. "We wish for your help to free us from the master." The creature spoke perfect Tyrillian now and its voice had changed, mimicking Kriista's but sounding slightly older.

When Dhrel thought about the similarities to the voice compared to Kriista's he felt a strange attraction coming from the creature. The creature thought Kriista was beautiful.

"This one likes you, Kris." Dhrel said smiling at his aunt.

"Eww," Kriista exclaimed not thinking.

"I did not mean to offend her," the creature thought apologetically.

It was then that Dhrel realized the creature was somewhat feminine. Although it looked similar to the one that attacked them its features were softer and its teeth smaller. Even the eyes of the new creature seemed to be more curved downward alluding to the fact that this was a woman.

"It's ok, I think it's a girl," Dhrel said smiling even wider.

"Oh..." Kriista began blushing. The creature also seemed somewhat embarrassed as it shifted its gaze from Kriista to some trees in the distance and began smiling like a child with a secret.

Dhrel then began to realize that he was feeling too much emotion from the creature. He was beginning to feel attracted to Kriista himself and it made a chill run up his spine. True, Kriista was beautiful but she was also his aunt.

"I am sorry. I will keep my feelings to myself," the creature thought, sensing Dhrel's revulsion to the thought of being attracted to his aunt.

The creature then noticed Gromthule and Dhrel could feel its elation. The creature began thinking directly at Gromthule but Dhrel could still hear it as if the creature was speaking aloud. The words were obviously ancient xeltheen but Dhrel could vaguely understand the meaning behind them.

"Great animal spirit, the tree spirits welcome you. We have waited centuries for you to rescue us from the master. You bring us a savior, one stronger than the master. Oh how we have missed you great animal spirit."

Judging by the look on Gromthule's face, he not only could hear the tree spirit but he was very surprised. He thought back at the tree spirit and again Dhrel could vaguely understand the meaning.

"Great tree spirits, we have searched for you. We believed that you had left us. I apologize for not finding you sooner."

Gromthule then turned to Kriista and Dhrel to explain.

"These are the tree spirits, we lived with them for centuries before the humans came. They all disappeared at about the same time the humans came to Lascaria. I'm not sure why they look like this, they used to be beautiful creatures that lived with us."

Then Dhrel's mind was flooded with thousands of images from the tree spirit, telling him the story in seconds. He saw a beautiful image of what they looked like before they were transformed. They resembled trees, having bark like skin except for around their faces. Their hair was green and looked like hanging vines. Their faces were vibrant and colorful, similar to the female xeltheen facial markings but more in hues of green and brown and covering their entire face. Dhrel was slightly embarrassed because in the images of the tree spirits they wore no clothes. The image of the one he spoke to was particularly appealing and the tree spirit could sense his attraction.

"Oh Kris, if you could see what she used to look like, you would not be saying eww," Dhrel said, his face bright red.

"She's showing you dirty pictures?" Kriista asked in astonishment.

"No, they were like the druids. They didn't need clothes." Dhrel responded, his face losing some of the redness.

"But she is showing you pictures?" Kriista asked again.

"Yes, their life story in a few seconds. It's amazing." Dhrel exclaimed. "They lived with the druids until some strange creatures came and took them. Enslaving them with those collars." Dhrel motioned to the collar on the tree spirits neck.

No one had noticed the collars until Dhrel mentioned them. They were very thin, and made of leather with a single black gem affixed as a clasp.

"They used to eat trees, which is why they are called tree spirits. They take on the form of what they eat. But the master forces them to eat the moss and slugs in the swamps. It's making them look like this." Dhrel continued.

"Can't we just take them off?" Kriista asked with concern.

"The gem is magical. It could kill them if not done properly." Dhrel responded.

Dhrel reached out to touch the collar belonging to the tree spirit he was talking to but then stopped and started searching the trees. The tree spirits had woken his ability to sense emotions and thoughts. He could feel a hateful presence getting closer. The presence loathed the tree spirits, blamed them for its fate. Then Dhrel felt even more hate, directed at him. The presence could see him but Dhrel couldn't see it.

"Humans! In my swamp!" said a loud voice that sounded male. It was low and husky but somehow sounded beyond human. "Stupid, pathetic, weak humans. Think you can come to MY swamp and do whatever you want?"

Dhrel searched the trees where the voice came from but still nothing was there.

"Show yourself!" Kriista impatiently yelled.

A figure slowly began to form, appearing ten feet from them. The figure was male and extremely tall. The creature was nearly ten feet tall and bone thin just like the tree spirits. Dhrel could see the resemblance to the tree spirits but at this distance it was quite apparent that it wasn't a tree spirit but some other form of creature. Its hands were elongated as were its fingers, each finger nearly a foot long. The creature also wore a black robe with a hood that had no adornments.

When the creature removed its hood the resemblance to the tree spirits disappeared altogether. Its face was long and hollow looking with dark black holes for eyes and in its mouth were rows of needle like teeth. The creature reminded Dhrel of a giant leech and it smelled of decaying flesh.

Dhrel could feel that the creature's hatred of humans was stronger than its hatred of the tree spirits. He wondered what humans had done to anger this creature.

Then he felt the tree spirit thinking to him again. "The master hates humans because they trapped him here. He won't tell you, make him show you the pictures. Like I showed you mine."

Dhrel understood what the tree spirit meant but he needed to be clever about this. It was obvious that the master couldn't hear thoughts like the tree spirits. Dhrel could use this to his advantage, trick the master into thinking about things he normally wouldn't talk about.

"Why do you hate humans?" Dhrel asked, knowing that the master wasn't going to answer him.

"Why would I tell you, stupid human," the master hissed. As he said this Dhrel concentrated on reading the master's mind. But the master didn't give him the images he had hoped for. All Dhrel could get was a phrase over and over again in the creatures mind. 'The sins of the ancestors shall be paid for by the descendants!'

Dhrel tried again. "Just tell me what humans have done that is so bad and maybe I can help."

"You are as stupid as my little slaves. You cannot comprehend what you have done. Your minds are too small," the master responded.

The master held out both hands and dark beams of energy shot toward Kriista and Dhrel. Kriista collapsed but Dhrel simply absorbed the magic. The master then shot a beam at Gromthule and knocked him out as well. After realizing that Dhrel was still conscious the master held out both hands and tried again.

"You'll have to do better than that parasite," Dhrel yelled at the master, trying to anger the creature and make him use more magic.

Dhrel could feel the master's power, it was as strong as Lascar, maybe stronger. He could also feel the surge when the energy beam hit him. He was absorbing the energy, with enough energy he might be able to use magic against the master.

The master channeled a solid beam of energy on Dhrel. Dhrel could feel the energy in his body rising.

"Die, you stupid human!" the master yelled. Dhrel could feel the master's anger rising but at the same time confusion was setting in.

"I'm not human," Dhrel said with a contemptuous smile.

"What are you?" the master asked quietly tilting his head in curiosity.

"I'm not exactly sure, but I'm definitely not human." Still smiling an almost evil smile, Dhrel held his hands up to the sky and shut his eyes. He could feel the energy he had absorbed trying to get out of him. It was trying to escape but the young king held on to it, changed it, forced it to do his bidding. Then, after Dhrel felt he had control of the magic he released it. Little blue balls of energy flew everywhere, leaving trails as they flew around aimlessly. After a few seconds the balls of blue energy found their targets and flew straight to the collars of all the tree spirits, shattering the gems. Once free, the tree spirits attacked the master, piling on top of him, using their claws to tear him to shreds. Within a minute there was nothing left of the master or his robe except for a black smudge on the ground where he had once been.

The tree spirits then lined up in front of Dhrel. The female tree spirit that had spoken to him before addressed him again.

"We thank you for our freedom. When the animal spirit and the pretty one wake, please tell them of our gratitude. We wish to return to the forest of the animal spirits, to our home. We will never forget this." Then the tree spirit stopped as it sensed something from Dhrel.

At first Dhrel wasn't sure what he had been thinking of to make the tree spirit stop so abruptly but then as all the tree spirits all began to kneel he realized. He was thinking about his kingdom, where the tree spirits called home. How he would be happy to have them living in his forest. He would even persuade the xeltheen that these tree spirits were allies if there was any apprehension.

The tree spirit spoke to him again as they all kneeled. "We would be happy to call you our king."

"You may call me king if you like. I will certainly call you friend." As he said this Dhrel held out his hand. It was a very human gesture, one that Draylen had taught him as a child. But the xeltheen had no gesture of friendship quite like the simple human handshake.

The tree spirit understood the gesture immediately from Dhrel's mind and stood up to shake his hand. She understood that her new king considered them equals not subjects.

"I'm sorry that the master didn't show you his story," the female tree spirit thought to Dhrel. "I would be happy to share with you what I know of it. He would often think of it when he was alone. He thought us stupid and incapable of communicating."

"Yes, he was very wrong," Dhrel responded.

The tree spirit then began to show him a very long story. After she had finished with the master's story the tree spirit led her people back toward Xanthan.

# Chapter 8

Dhrel waited patiently for Gromthule and Kriista to wake from the master's spell. After they had recovered Dhrel began to tell them the story he had witnessed from the tree spirit.

Nearly two-thousand years ago a race of technologically advanced creatures came to this planet to claim it as a prison world. They needed somewhere safe to store their most violent criminals and prisoners of war. They constructed a great machine capable of thought. This machine was cared for by six custodians, each with a key to help them control the machine. The machine was created to keep the prisoners healthy and care for them. Providing food, favorable living conditions and also making sure they could not leave. The machine also made the prisoners and the custodians unable to die from old age, once on the planet they simply stopped aging. With the machine caring for the prisoners there was no need for hundreds of guards and caretakers, all it needed was the six and their families to keep it running. What the aliens didn't realize was that this world was already inhabited by the druids. The druids lived on one of the small continents, now known as Lascaria.

The master was one of these guardians, he lived on this world with his wife. His outpost was on the continent of Lascaria. Although he and his wife were unable to have children, his wife was not barren. One of the druids appeared to the master's wife in a humanoid form resembling her husband and she became pregnant. The boy that was born from this union was unlike the master's race. This child changed form slightly every time he ate something different, the boy was the first of the tree spirits. After some time the master realized that the child could not be his and banished his wife and the boy to live in the north. The master's wife discovered the druids and decided to live with them. Eventually her child married a druid and had children of his own giving rise to all of the tree spirits.

As the centuries went on the master's wife married a druid as well and had another child. This child was a girl, and very different from the other tree spirits. It was apparent from an early age that this child had abilities that none of the other tree spirits had and she was quite cruel. After years of trying to help the child fit in, it became obvious that she would never be able to live with the druids so she was banished. This child's name was Faamyn, Lascar's mother.

Faamyn was furious and hunted her parents for revenge. Faamyn killed her father in the druid village but her mother escaped and led Faamyn south to where the master lived. Faamyn's mother begged her ex-husband to save her from her daughter but he only found amusement in the tale. Instead of helping her he locked her up and waited to give Faamyn a gift. But when Faamyn arrived her mother had already escaped and stolen the master's key to the machine.

Faamyn and the master tracked her mother to the south, nearly to the edge of the continent. They had her trapped, she was stuck between them and the ocean. As they closed in on her the whole world began to shake. The climate began to change around them and the continent now known as Lascaria, once a large green forest began to split into separate climates. The place they had chased Faamyn's mother to had, within a few hours, turned into a dry desert. They continued to brave the quickly changing desert in pursuit of Faamyn's mother, but what they found was something entirely different. As they came to the edge of the continent they found an enormous space transport. The reason for the world shaking and the sudden change in climate was this new ship.

The master quickly ran back to his house which had now been converted by the machine into a swampland. Faamyn, however, tried to blend in with the aliens.

The machine had two major rules that it had to follow. The first rule was to never let anyone on the planet die, the second was to never let anyone leave. Part of the second rule was the problem. In order to not let anyone leave the machine had nullified any electricity, a form of energy that Dhrel, Gromthule and Kriista had never heard of. The aliens that landed in their large transport not only used electricity to power the ship, but their bodies were kept alive by electricity. The ship was full of humans.

The great machine struggled to reconcile the two rules that it had to uphold. It could not let the humans die but it also could not let electricity onto the planet. The turmoil caused something to happen to the machine, something similar to insanity. The machine changed the world and at the same time changed the humans. It made Lascaria suitable for humans to live in and began randomly changing humans to help them survive as it tried to remove the electricity inside them. Out of the nearly two-thousand passengers only four hundred survived the machines mutations, some of them barely recognizable as human. In the end the majority of the remaining humans could be separated into three groups. The xeltheen, the draelic and the ones that still looked human.

Over time Faamyn drained some of the humans and began to look more human herself. She had found people who didn't know what she was and she kept it hidden from them. More than half the humans had been transformed so she could fit right in. Faamyn helped them find a place to live and eventually even befriended their leader, Lucian. Faamyn had given up on her search for her mother, instead seeing a better opportunity in the humans.

"Wait, so the 'friend' in the desert. You think it could be?" Kriista asked.

"Yes, I think it's Faamyn's mother. And the artifact is a key to the machine." Dhrel answered.

"You don't seem too concerned by the fact that for one, you are both human and second that you came from another planet." Gromthule exclaimed.

"I'm the grandson of an evil wizard that wants to kill everyone. I can absorb magic and read minds. Also I just helped kill a giant leech man. And you think the fact that humans came from another planet is strange? It's not even the strangest thing I've had to deal with today," Dhrel said bursting into laughter.

"He does have a point Grom," Kriista said joining her nephew in teasing the large druid.

Gromthule gave them a disapproving look then turned to collect his belongings. But when his face was hidden from them he let a small smile slip through. Dhrel had a point, everything that had happened in the past year was indeed much stranger.

"Fine, fine. I'll get my stuff," Kriista conceded, joining Gromthule in collecting their supplies.

"You do realize that means we're both part leech thing or whatever that was," Dhrel exclaimed in disgust.

"Ya..." Kriista agreed. She shared her nephew's revulsion but there wasn't much they could do about it. "So, those were the necromancers everyone was so afraid of?"

"No, actually I forgot that part," Dhrel began. "The necromancers, the real necromancers, left the swamp months ago. The tree spirits think they headed to Brizen. None of the tree spirits knew why, but apparently the master used to teach them and learn some of their magic from time to time. Then suddenly they all packed up and left. The necromancers are exactly what everyone said they were. Not a race or species, more like a religion. Renegade mages and druids from around Lascaria that came together to practice evil magic. They learned to raise the dead, drain the lives of the living and command evil spirits." Dhrel stopped for a second thinking of Lascar. "But they are not our concern, we need to stop Lascar."

After his explanation Dhrel joined them in collecting the supplies as they prepared to continue their journey to the desert.

# Chapter 9

The beginning of the desert was just as abrupt as the line between the swamp and the Xanthan forest. Dhrel assumed this was some byproduct of the machine making Lascaria livable for humans. Just like the edge of the forest, the swamps just stopped. He could actually put one foot in the desert while one foot was still in the swamp.

"Do you think the 'machine' can hear us?" Kriista asked. She had no idea what the word machine meant, assuming it was the things name. In Kriista's mind the machine was an enormous creature with vast magical powers. She pictured it with hundreds of tentacles and a giant round body with huge eyes. Dhrel on the other hand had a clear picture passed on from the tree spirit.

The machine was located in a cavern, although the tree spirit had no images to help locate the machine, it did have a clear picture from the master about what the cavern looked like. The machine was a computer using energy similar to Lascar's magic beams. It used this energy to think a thousand times faster than any living thing. It had controls, many knobs and levers used to adjust its rules and also used by the guardians to oversee the people on the planet. One of the controls was used to communicate with the race of the guardians' somewhere on another planet, but Dhrel had only given Kriista and Gromthule an overview of the story. The things he understood in the memories of the master were not things he could explain to them. The ideas of computers and space travel. Large machines carrying people through space between planets. What a machine actually was and how a computer could almost think. These things Kriista and Gromthule would have no point of reference for so it was pointless to try and explain. But Dhrel understood quite well, possibly better than anyone on the planet besides the guardians.

The guardians blamed the humans for being trapped here because their arrival had caused the machine to malfunction. It ignored the orders from the guardians and refused any incoming communications. The machine had determined that the guardians were a danger to the humans so in its twisted logic it deemed the guardians as prisoners. Many attempts were made to shut down the machine both from the guardians on the planet and from the race of aliens back on their home planet but they had made the machine too powerful. The planet was now no longer a prison they could use, the machine had turned it into a sanctuary where no one could enter and no one could leave.

Dhrel was content with this situation. He had no desire to leave and no desire to meet any creatures living on other planets. His only concern was for Lascar. What if Lascar somehow managed to control the machine or tap into its power, using it to rule the whole world? Dhrel could not let that happen. He needed to find the keys and destroy them or at least hide them away from Lascar. The keys were the only way into the cavern where the machine was housed. Even with Lascar's tremendous power, the machine would not let anyone in without the keys, all six of them. In truth, he only needed one key. That would be enough to keep Lascar from corrupting the machine further.

Dhrel realized he had been daydreaming. It was rude to ignore his aunt. "No, the machine can't hear us. It's not really alive."

"What?" Kriista asked and Dhrel realized he would only confuse her by telling her the truth.

"It's sorta like a huge concentration of energy, magic if you will. It's not really alive, it's making decisions based on what the guardians told it to do." Dhrel was happy with this explanation. It wasn't a lie, it was more a simplified description of what the machine really was.

"I see. So we need to keep Lascar from finding it then right?" she asked.

"Yes, if he can control it we're all doomed," the young king responded.

This caused Kriista to rethink what the machine looked like. To her it was now a huge ball of energy, shifting and swirling.

Gromthule had been strangely quiet as they walked through the desert, searching for anything that might help them find the master's ex-wife. Although he also had many questions about the machine and was half-heartedly listening to Kriista and Dhrel talk, his thoughts were focused on looking for signs of sand crawlers. Even though it was barely mid-day, the heat was beginning to bother him. While Kriista and Dhrel had no problems with the heat, or cold for that matter, Gromthule did not share their power.

"Don't be alarmed. I need to find something that can handle this heat better," the large druid said as he disrobed and changed into something that could more easily deal with the heat.

Despite his warning both Kriista and Dhrel had to take a step back as Gromthule turned into an enormous leathery beast. Dhrel could feel something in his mind. It felt like a thought was trying to push its way into his head. It was Gromthule. It wasn't as easy as feeling the thoughts of the tree spirits but it was definitely Gromthule trying to say something or more accurately show him something. It seemed like Gromthule wanted them to get on.

"He wants us to ride on him I think," Dhrel said and Kriista started climbing up the creature.

The creature Gromthule that had changed into was large, its back at least eight feet high. It had a gentle looking face and flat teeth. The creatures back was only slightly rounded, giving both Dhrel and Kriista plenty of room to sit without fear of falling off. Its feet seemed to be well adapted to walking on sand as well. They were wide, flat and almost webbed to keep the creature's vast weight from sinking. The tail of the creature appeared to be its only defense. On the end of its long tail were two spikes, each almost a foot long, sticking out either side.

The three of them plodded along the desert for hours, Kriista and Dhrel riding on Gromthule's back. Occasionally Dhrel would get feelings from Gromthule, but mostly they were warnings as the large leathery beast saw sand crawler tubes sticking out. Dhrel and Kriista continued their conversations about the strange things that Dhrel had seen and Kriista only became more confused as they spoke of subjects that she had no point of reference for.

Finally as the sun went down Gromthule led them to a small rock outcropping that seemed to be a good place to spend the night. After they had removed themselves from Gromthule's back he turned back into himself and put his robe back on.

"Thank you, I'm not sure I could have made it this far as myself," Gromthule said drinking some of the water they had brought with them. "I'd say we're half way, the desert is small. I'll get the rations for today." He then reached into the pack and brought out one stick of jerky for each of them. The jerky wasn't going to satiate their hunger but it should give them enough strength to continue their journey.

"I could try to find something to eat if you like?" Kriista spoke up.

"No, never hunt at night in the desert. It's worse than the swamp. The sand crawlers sleep in the day under the sand, only coming out if they feel vibrations above them. At night they walk around and hunt," the druid whispered in a tone that suggested caution and quiet were very important.

Kriista lowered her voice to match his. "Anything we can do to protect ourselves?"

"Not really, just listen. If you hear rushing sand wake me up. I'm sorry but I'm beat, I need some sleep if I'm gonna carry you the rest of the way," Gromthule said, nearly half asleep already.

"I'll keep watch," Dhrel offered. "I'm not really tired anyway."

"But you didn't sleep last night either," Kriista protested. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, actually I feel great. Something about absorbing the master's magic. I feel like I could stay awake for days. You go ahead and sleep, I don't mind."

Kriista wasn't going to protest, she actually felt drained even though she had ridden most of the way. The heat might not affect her the same as normal people but she still hadn't had much to eat in the last few days. So without any more talking Kriista curled up on one of the supply bags and quickly fell asleep.

They had taken another day to clear the swamp and Dhrel had stood watch that night as well. But even though he had been awake for nearly two days now he felt as though he had just woken up. The master's magic was strong, it gave him an abundance of energy. If Gromthule and Kriista hadn't been with him he might have sprinted the entire journey. In fact, he hadn't even eaten the jerky Gromthule gave him. He carefully snuck it back into the pack after they fell asleep, Kriista and Gromthule would need it more than he did.

Dhrel pondered his new abilities as he sat watching over his family. They hadn't made a fire since it might attract things in the desert, but Dhrel could swear the night wasn't as dark here. Out of the corner of his eye he could see small rodents running through the sand followed by a snake that appeared to be tracking them. Above him he could see a bird circling, also watching the rodent and the snake, deciding which it wanted to bring back to its nest. On the horizon Dhrel could see a large creature that looked similar to the one Gromthule had turned into followed by two smaller ones, likely its children.

It was then that Dhrel realized he wasn't seeing light, there was none. The sky was black, not even a moon was visible but Dhrel could still see. He was seeing the motion. The animals were perfectly visible to Dhrel until they stopped moving. He wouldn't have realized this but a scorpion had just come from under the sand and stung one of the rodents. As the rodent lay twitching from the poison it began to disappear. When the rodent was completely dead, not even a heartbeat, it vanished. Dhrel looked around, he really was seeing movement. The rocks, the sand, he couldn't see any of it unless something made it vibrate. Was this something else awakened by the tree spirits or yet another side effect from the master's magic? If it was the tree spirits he could keep it and this could be quite useful. If on the other hand it was a side effect from the master's magic, it would fade eventually.

Dhrel quickly forgot his self-debate as he noticed a large patch of sand moving towards the rocks. It was moving very slowly and quietly, but it was definitely moving towards them. As it got closer Dhrel could see an outline under the sand. It had eight legs and the front two legs had giant claws on them. It was some sort of mix between a spider and a scorpion. It didn't have a poisonous tail like a scorpion and the face was more like a spider with large fangs. On the top of its strange head was a tube that protruded to the surface of the sand. It was a sand crawler!

Dhrel jumped up and with both hands shook Gromthule. "Sand Crawler!" he screamed, causing Kriista to jump to her feet.

Gromthule didn't say a word, he simply began transforming. He turned into a sand crawler and started beating his claws on the rocks and squealing. The other sand crawler popped up from the sand and raised its claws in the air matching the squealing sound that Gromthule was making. Gromthule walked out to the other sand crawler sideways, with his body propped up as high as he could on his thin legs, in a show of dominance, and the other sand crawler lowered its claws. After a few seconds of this, the intruding sand crawler cautiously turned and slipped back into the sand heading away from the rock pile much more quickly than it had come.

"I guess that's how you deal with a sand crawler," Kriista exclaimed as Gromthule shifted back to his normal form.

"Yes, I let it know that this rock was taken," the large druid said with a smile. "Well we still have a few hours, I'm gonna get back to sleep. Good work Dhrel. Let me know if you see any more." In a matter of seconds Gromthule was sound asleep again.

"Boy, he really was worn out," Kriista whispered to Dhrel. "You want a break yet? Not sure I can get back to sleep anyway."

"I'm good. You're welcome to keep me company though," Dhrel replied.

"You sure you're alright?" Kriista persisted.

"I think it's the master's magic. I feel like I have so much energy. And I can see the animals move in the darkness. That's how I noticed the sand crawler."

"I'm just glad you're on my side. If you had followed Lascar this whole world would be doomed," Kriista laughed. Behind her laugh Dhrel could hear the despair. Her laugh covered the pain, but he knew it was there.

Dhrel saw his aunt in a new light after his encounter with the tree spirits. She was not just his aunt. She was a beautiful woman who had been forced into fighting her father. She had lost her wife and now he and Gromthule were all she had left. He needed to protect his aunt, even though she was probably twice as strong as him, she needed his protection from Lascar. Kriista seemed different to him now, somehow weaker, like a little girl. He thought of his aunt more like a little sister, he would not let Lascar hurt her again. In truth he needed Kriista as much as she needed him.

# Chapter 10

In the morning Gromthule gave them each another stick of jerky for breakfast and after some light conversation he turned back into the leathery creature and they were off. Kriista had fallen asleep after a few minutes the night before, comforted by Dhrel's presence, she fell asleep leaning on his arm. Dhrel, however, still had energy to spare. Even as they loaded themselves on to Gromthule's back he still felt as if he could run the rest of the way without breaking a sweat.

By mid-afternoon they had found what they were looking for. After coming over a rather large sand dune they realized that what they were standing on wasn't a sand dune after all. It was the human ship, covered in sand. On the back side the ship was completely exposed. The hull of the ship was silvery and reflected the sun in their eyes. The few windows of the ship had been broken but through them they could see many strange things. Dhrel thought that this was perfect. He could show them what computers were, what machines were. Now they could understand.

Dhrel leapt from Gromthule's back and ran down the steep incline up to one of the broken windows that was within reach. He peered inside, checking for sand crawlers or anything else that might have thought it made a good home. To his relief there was nothing inside but computers. He climbed in the window and began pulling on one of the consoles. It came off the wall with ease and nearly landed him on his butt. Then he pulled up one of the many concentrations of nobs and headed back out the window.

"This is what a machine is!" he shouted.

"It's just metal." Kriista said confused as Gromthule turned back into himself, forcing her to jump off.

"Yes, it's metal and something called plastic. Energy surges through these small metal wires causing the machine to move. Some of the smarter machines have little boxes that work like your brain. The energy makes it think," Dhrel said very pleased with himself.

"I see," Gromthule said, not quite sure he understood.

"You don't believe me?" Dhrel asked.

"No, no, we believe you. It's just that we don't understand how it works," Kriista reassured her nephew.

"It's like a wind-up toy. The energy works like the springs to make the metal move." Dhrel tried again to explain it in a context that might make sense.

"Oh, now that makes sense. And the thinking box, it's like a book but with energy making it go. You write down what to do and it does it?" Kriista was beginning to understand. The feeling that she was smart caused Kriista to think of Elyse. If Elyse had been here she would have understood Dhrel's explanation in a second. Elyse was the smartest person she had ever met, but perhaps Dhrel was almost that smart.

"Yes, that's it. You write instructions and the brain box tells the mechanical part what to do. 'The Machine' is like that only one thousand times smarter. It can actually decide what to do itself." Dhrel smiled at his aunt. She was far more intelligent than she gave herself credit for. Again, Lascar's doing. Her father had belittled her for so long that she had no confidence in herself.

"Well then, the master's ex-wife should be around here somewhere." Gromthule exclaimed, changing the subject. He didn't understand the machine but he didn't need to. As long as Dhrel and now Kriista understood it, they could figure out how to deal with it.

"Yeah, but where?" Kriista began searching through any of the broken windows low enough for her to reach.

"I'll get to the top of this thing and see if there are any shelters nearby," Gromthule exclaimed. "And watch out for sand crawlers."

Dhrel headed toward the other end of the ship to see if there was any more windows on the other side. As Gromthule reached the top of the enormous sand pile on top of the ship Dhrel felt something. The feeling was a mixture of fear and relief and it was coming from the south east. Whatever the tree spirits had awakened inside him had not only brought his abilities back but amplified them.

Dhrel stopped and yelled to Gromthule. "I feel her! She sees you!"

As Dhrel yelled to Gromthule he felt the fear rising in the master's ex-wife.

"This way!" Dhrel yelled as he ran after her.

Kriista and Gromthule struggled to keep up with him, Dhrel's new found energy made him very fast. They ran across two smaller sand dunes and then as they reached the top of the third, larger one, they saw a cave. The entrance of the cave was made out of rock with sand covering it. The rock was nearly the same color as the sand around it and the opening was fairly small, they would need to bend down to enter. This was the perfect place for the master's ex-wife to hide. As they drew closer Dhrel could tell that this was where she was hiding.

"She's in there," Dhrel exclaimed after Gromthule and Kriista finally caught up to him.

"Keep your guard up," Gromthule stated as he slowly crept into the cave entrance.

After they came through the small, inconspicuous opening they found themselves in a rather large cavern. The cavern was dark and cool and in the distance they were sure they heard water dripping. Gromthule shifted into the small panther-like cat with heat vision so he could see any dangers, but there was nothing there. The whole cavern was cold and black to the small cat so he shifted back and grabbed his robes.

"Are you sure she's here?" Gromthule asked.

"Oh yes," Dhrel answered staring into the distance.

Even though the master's ex-wife gave off no heat, she was alive. Dhrel could see her heartbeat lighting up her body. She was invisible like the master, but Dhrel could see her.

"I don't wish you harm," Dhrel said to the apparently empty room.

Gromthule and Kriista were startled by the loud hissing voice that came back. The voice echoed through the cavern but neither of them could understand what was being said. Only Dhrel understood.

"Why are you here?" the voice commanded.

"We are looking for the key," Dhrel responded in the same language as the voice.

"What language is that?" Kriista asked Dhrel frantically.

"What do you mean?" Dhrel asked in response.

"You are speaking the same language as the voice, I think," Kriista exclaimed.

"Weird, I didn't even realize," Dhrel responded.

"You have the abilities of my children," the voice said now speaking in Tyrillian. "Are you one of my children?" On the far side of the cavern a shape appeared. Although it was obvious that she was the same race as the master, she appeared less harsh. Her features were more rounded than the master but she still had the many rows of sharp, needle like teeth and the dark holes for eyes. The master's ex-wife was smaller than the master also, only about the same height as Gromthule, which was still fairly tall.

"Actually," Dhrel began. "I think we would be your great, great grandchildren."

The creature smiled at them with its creepy, toothy mouth and moved forward. As she moved the cavern lit up. But the light was not coming from any single light source. It was as if the rocks of the cavern walls were all giving off a small amount of light.

"Animal spirit, I thought I sensed one of your kind," the creature said to Gromthule. "Please, you may call me Sol." As she said this she bowed to the large druid. "Why do you seek the key?"

"My name is Gromthule," Gromthule responded. "Lascar, Faamyn's son, wants the key. We intend to keep it from him."

"Ever the protector," Sol stated as she turned and began looking through several small holes carved out in the cavern walls. "Where is Voleth?"

"Lascar killed my father many years ago," Gromthule said in a sad tone.

"And so you take his place." Sol continued to search through the small holes, apparently unable to find what she was looking for. "Your father was a good king, kind and generous. He took me in when I had nowhere to go. I'm sure you will follow in his footsteps. You were just a baby when I was forced to leave, but I remember you. You were Voleth's greatest joy. He would often tell me stories about the king he wanted you to become."

Sol went to a different wall and continued searching through the small holes. "I know of Lascar. So I know you speak the truth. He will use the machine to destroy."

Sol then turned to face them with a small golden object in her hands. "Here it is," she said holding out the key. The key was circular and flat with an intricate design on one side and completely smooth on the other. It looked similar to a gold coin but slightly larger. It had four holes evenly spaced around the outside of the disk just large enough for a small rope to be put through them. She held out the disk to Gromthule. "I hope one of you can hold it. The machine is very particular about who may hold the key."

Gromthule was the first to reach for the key. As he touched the key, severe pain shot through his arm and knocked him backward.

"You are not the one," Sol stated and then held the key out for Dhrel.

Dhrel stuck out two fingers, preparing for the pain that Gromthule had experienced but there was none. Dhrel's head began to swim with images. He saw Shye die. He saw Draylen die. He watched as Lascar killed his father. Dhrel was filled with rage and hatred. Lascar needed to die. Dhrel could use the key to kill Lascar, to exact his revenge. As he felt all this hatred he began to hate himself. It was his fault that each of them had died. He was the cause for all of this. He needed to die also. Dhrel realized what the key was doing and pulled himself back.

"No the key is not for me. All I feel is hate," Dhrel said in disgust.

"You are strong. Not many can resist. You are guardian, but something else, something special," Sol proclaimed, referring to her race as guardian to avoid confusion, then she held out the key to Kriista. "I knew it was you, but a demonstration was in order."

"I have no magic. I'm not like them," Kriista protested.

"You are right. You are not like them. Your magic is different and harder to use. You are more like me. So this key is meant for you." Sol pushed the key closer to Kriista.

Kriista looked at Sol confused but reluctantly held out her hand. Sol dropped the key into Kriista's palm and Kriista's eyes began glowing bright purple.

What Kriista saw was not a flash of images and emotions like Dhrel. Hers was more like a dream but she was watching it from the outside. She was sitting in her old room in Lascar's stronghold. Kriista's mother, Shazen, was sitting on the bed brushing her hair. A few moments later Lastian burst into the room, obviously excited.

"I will ask father tonight. I don't want to wait any longer. You will be my wife," Lastian said as she grabbed Shazen around the waist and lifted her up.

Shazen had a concerned look on her face so Lastian set her back on the bed.

"What is wrong my love?" Lastian asked.

"I am pregnant. Your father will be furious." Shazen looked down at the floor, waiting for the worst.

"That's great! After we are married we will tell everyone. I'm going to be a father..." Lastian trailed off deep in thought.

Shazen looked at Lastian with love in her eyes. She had not expected him to be so happy. Lastian always talked about how much he hated his father, how he didn't want to be like him. She assumed that a baby was the last thing he wanted.

"Come, let's go tell father that we want to be married. Right now." Lastian grabbed Shazen's hand and led her out of the room toward the throne room.

Upon entering the throne room they noticed Lascar on his throne and several generals all standing at attention in front of him. When Lascar saw Shazen and Lastian enter he quickly stood up.

"Just in time," Lascar said in a loud voice. "And this is my bride-to-be Shazen. She will be queen of Norzen."

"No father, she is mine!" Lastian yelled.

"I have made my decision," Lascar said in a calm voice.

A tear streaked down Shazen's face and the dream faded from Kriista's mind. Soon after another dream began to take shape. Kriista was now in Lascar's room at the stronghold and in the corner she saw her mother crying. Lastian burst into the room again, this time he was frantic.

"We must leave tonight. I think father suspects something. Pack Kriista's things and meet me at the stables. Some of the guards owe me a favor and will look the other way while we escape."

"No, I can't do that to her. Kriista will be hunted for the rest of her life. Please think of your daughter, she doesn't deserve that life." Shazen covered her face in self-loathing. "I love you but think of your daughter first. We can't be selfish."

Lastian's expression turned from panic to sadness. "You are right, Kriista means everything to me. I will not do that to her. Even if she never knows the truth, I will do what I must to protect her. I'm sorry, my love. I will never bring this up again." Lastian turned and walked out of the room slowly.

A second later the door exploded with red energy, throwing splinters all over the room. As the smoke cleared Lascar walked into the room, his eyes glowing the same color of red.

"You think you can leave me? Run off with Lastian? I will not be made a fool!" Lascar yelled as he lifted Shazen off the floor with magic. "I would sooner kill you than let you make me look weak. I have two powerful children. Do you seriously think I need you?"

Shazen's expression turned sinister like Lascar's. "You have one child..." She waited a second for the words to sink in. "And one grandchild."

Lascar's anger overwhelmed him. He began crushing Shazen and she screamed in pain. Fifteen year old Kriista came running into the room.

"What are you doing?!" Kriista screamed at Lascar.

"Your mother is a traitor!" Lascar closed his fist and Shazen was killed. "Your brother and your mother conspired against us. I need to deal with Lastian now." Lascar then turned and left the room. Fifteen year old Kriista sat beside her mother's dead body and cried. The dream began to fade again and Kriista woke.

Kriista wasn't sure what to think. Her emotions were all over the place. She was at once relieved and angry at the same time. Lastian was her real father and Lascar had hidden it from her. Then she felt regret. She had hated Lastian for leaving, for trying to kill Lascar. Believed Lascar when he told her that Lastian, her real father, was a traitor. She had even helped Lascar hunt him down.

Kriista fell to her knees with the key still clutched tightly in her hand.

"Oh Dhrel," she said through the tears. "I'm not your aunt."

"What?" Dhrel asked. He could feel the storm of emotions coming from Kriista. Then as she spoke he felt joy.

"I'm your sister."

Dhrel couldn't help it. The overwhelming joy and the news that he had a sister forced him to run to Kriista and hug her. He knew, somehow, he just knew that she was his sister. He just couldn't quite figure out why and every story he heard had told him otherwise. But somehow in the back of his mind, he always knew.

Then Sol spoke again. "Now you see. You are the key holder. You made the machine show you what you wanted to see. You have the willpower required to direct the machine. The machine can't control you, you control it."

# Chapter 11

After Kriista and Dhrel had time to process their new status as brother and sister, Sol began explaining to them what they needed to know about the keys and the machine.

"You will need to get all of the keys. Even if you wish to let the machine continue as it has you must stop anyone from further corrupting it. If anyone strong enough to change the machine gets a key they can change the world to be what they want. Lascar may not be able to control it like Kriista but he might be strong enough to change the machine enough."

"Can't we just destroy them?" Dhrel asked. "With no keys, there's no way to corrupt it."

"I've tried. The machine won't let anyone destroy them," Sol answered. "The only way is to seal the keys in with the machine. No one can get in without the keys so if they are inside..."

Sol didn't have to finish, they all understood.

"So how do we find the rest of the keys?" Kriista asked.

"Four of them are on the largest continent of Brizen and one on the small northern island of Marlok. I have heard that the guardians of my race have lost the keys on Brizen. Some of the prisoners have them now. But Brizen is large and I have no idea where the keys are." Sol looked distressed at the thought of prisoners in control of the keys.

"Well obviously the people who have the keys haven't destroyed the world yet so we have time," Dhrel stated, trying to cheer up Sol.

"Yes, you have a point. But not much time. Lascar, or someone like him will eventually find them." Sol's expression was a bit lighter now but she was still worried.

Kriista had been holding the key in her hand the whole time. As she stood up, getting ready to say goodbye to Sol the key slipped out of her hand and hit the sandy floor. Kriista stooped over to pick up the key but as she reached for it, the key flew toward the entrance of the cave. Once at the entrance the key stopped in mid-air and a figure began to appear around the key. It was Lascar, he was now holding the key in his hand.

Lascar's eyes began to glow red as the machine fought with him for control but in the end Lascar won out, at least for the moment.

"Quite a nice toy you have here. I've been waiting here for almost an hour for you to put it down. You shouldn't make your father wait," Lascar sneered at Kriista.

"You're not my father, you pathetic bastard!" Kriista yelled.

Lascar began to laugh an evil laugh that made Kriista's skin crawl. "Took you long enough. You never were very bright. Such a disappointment."

Lascar stuck out the hand that didn't have the key and threw Gromthule into Dhrel, smashing Dhrel's head against the cavern wall. Dhrel fell to the ground unconscious, blood dripping from the open wound on his head. Gromthule tried to get to his feet but Lascar threw him farther into the cave smashing the large druid against the back wall.

"Not so fast druid," Lascar hissed, turning his attention back to Kriista. "Now, I guess I'll have to call you granddaughter from now on."

"You can call me Kriista, you are nothing to me!" Kriista ran at Lascar and unsheathed her sword ready to kill her former father.

"Oh please," Lascar spat at Kriista. He focused his magic on her and she was held tight. Lascar then reached for a pouch on his belt and placed the key inside. The machine was obviously a distraction to Lascar, he did not have complete control while he held it. "There, now you can have my full attention." He raised his other hand and removed the sword from Kriista's hand. The sword flew to Lascar's outstretched hand and flipped over so he could grab the handle. He then pointed the sword at Sol. "I have some friends that have been looking for you."

Two figures appeared beside Lascar, one on each side. As they came into focus it was apparent that they were guardians, the same race as Sol. They began speaking in their language at Sol and surprisingly Kriista understood what they were saying. Like the tree spirits had done for Dhrel, the key had unlocked Kriista's powers or at least shown her how to use them.

"You are a traitor to our people. You killed your husband. You had relations with the animal spirits and produced illegal offspring. You will be punished for your crimes." Both figures spoke in unison as if they had the same mind. "The punishment is death."

"But she didn't kill her husband," Kriista interrupted but it was too late. Before Kriista could reason with them Sol's body exploded in a shower of black ooze.

The figures then began to speak to each other.

"What should we do with the offspring?" said the one on the right.

"Kill them all," said the one on the left.

"You'll find out we're not that easy to kill!" Kriista shouted in their language.

Lascar and the two figures both looked astonished at Kriista's ability to speak to them.

"It speaks, kill it!" both figures shouted in unison again.

Both of them began concentrating on Kriista and her head started to hurt. It felt like her head was being crushed under rocks. A small amount of blood came from her nose and eyes then she fell to one knee.

"What are you doing!?!" Lascar screamed at them. "Speak Tyrillian!"

"Your kind is an abomination. We must kill you all," both said in Tyrillian.

"You're idiots," Lascar exclaimed and the sword shot from his hands and into Kriista's chest piercing through her heart. "That's how you kill 'our' kind. Now, if we're done here, I have five more keys to find." Lascar turned and began walking out of the cave.

"You must die as well. None of you shall pollute this world, any longer," the one on the right said. Then the two began focusing on Lascar.

"I was right, you're both idiots. WHY AM I SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS!?!" Lascar yelled and the cave began to shake.

Lascar stood staring at the two figures, crossing his arms over his chest and then he began to laugh a sick and twisted laugh. "This is why we don't have allies." Lascar said looking over his shoulder out into the desert.

Out beyond the entrance of the cave Zephillia limped into view, moving towards her husband. She looked to be in bad shape. She held her arm over her chest where Dhrel had stabbed her and favored her right leg. "Yes, you were right, but they brought us to the key. They have served their purpose," she responded.

Lascar held up a hand to each of guardians and his eyes began to glow. Slowly the red from his eyes traveled to his hands and the two figures burst into flame. The high pitched squeals coming from them only made Lascar laugh louder.

Then as the two figures lay in burning puddles of black ooze he saw Kriista. Her eyes were glowing bright purple and she was pulling the sword from her chest.

"I'm Dhrel's sister, you think that would kill me? Maybe you're the idiot!" Kriista yelled as she used the sword to get to her feet.

Lascar held out his hand to bind Kriista but she wasn't paralyzed. She simply winced as she overcame the magic. He tried again, still nothing. He threw an energy beam at her and hit her square in the chest. Kriista fell to one knee but again, overcame the magic and the pain. Kriista wasn't absorbing the magic like Dhrel did, her body was fighting back, defending her.

"I do have power. You just weren't smart enough to teach me how to use it," Kriista taunted. "I see Zephillia isn't fairing so well either after Dhrel got done with her." She wanted to hurt Lascar, but also she needed time to heal. She needed to buy time so she could make another attempt at getting the key back.

"She will be fine now, thanks to you. The key should give me enough power to heal her," Lascar spat back at Kriista.

"If you can control it. It didn't look to me like you were the one in control." Kriista was healing quickly, she just needed to distract him a little longer then she could strike.

"I will learn to control it, don't you worry, Granddaughter."

"I said, don't call me that!" Kriista's voice rose as she was finally healed enough to fight back. She ran at Lascar, sword in her hand.

Lascar realized the mistake he had made, he had underestimated Kriista. He quickly held his hands up toward the ceiling and it began to shake. Rocks started to come down from the ceiling as it collapsed. Kriista looked back at Gromthule and Dhrel, she couldn't leave them. She ran to Dhrel and grabbed him with one arm then proceeded to the back of the cave to where Gromthule was lying. The rocks continued to fall.

"Enjoy your tomb," Lascar said as he thrust his hand toward the ground and the cave collapsed in on them. "By the time you dig your way out of this I'll be in Brizen searching for the second key. I hear an overconfident governess has it."

Kriista shielded Gromthule and Dhrel from the falling rocks but as the rocks piled up on top of her back she began to realize that they were trapped. She was incredibly strong but there was so much rock piled on her that she couldn't move. It took all her strength to keep it from falling on her brother and the druid. She began to panic, she needed to wake them up.

"Dhrel, Grom, wake up!" she screamed at them.

Gromthule started to stir, groggy from his collision with the wall. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"Lascar trapped us in the cave. It fell on top of us and I don't think I can hold it much longer," Kriista sobbed.

"Calm down, child. Concentrate. You won't let us die," Gromthule said calmly.

"What!?! I'm not strong enough!" she screamed back at him. "I need Dhrel's help and he won't wake up."

"You don't need his help. Just concentrate. Feel the energy inside you. Force it out. Make it explode," Gromthule said still far too calm.

"I can't, I don't know how." Kriista began crying. "I can't let you die. I've lost too much."

Kriista began concentrating, not on the energy but on Dhrel. She tried to force her thoughts into his head. "Wake up!!!"

Dhrel woke with a start. "What was that? What happened?" he asked frantically.

"Lascar collapsed the cave on us and if you don't do something we're all going to be crushed. I can't hold it much longer," she said to her brother.

Dhrel tried to get to his feet but there was no room, so he settled for getting to his knees. He began concentrating, feeling Kriista's fear, not for herself but for what would happen when she could no longer hold back the rocks. She was not afraid to die, she was afraid of losing them. Dhrel had vowed to keep his sister safe, he would not let her down.

Dhrel could feel the energy building in him. The voice in his head, Kriista's voice was distracting but also helpful at the same time. She was urgently begging him to save them and he was trying. The energy grew stronger, fueled by his need to protect his sister. He held on to it, letting it build. Dhrel had to use it precisely or it might kill Gromthule. He directed the energy forward feeling it building against the rocks in front of him then he released it. The rocks flew away from them and the explosion nearly deafened them, but they were free.

Dhrel turned to Kriista and she smiled at him then fell face first into the sand.

"We're going to have to teach her how to absorb energy," Gromthule said as he reached down and lifted Kriista gently

"Yep, she had none stored up. I know how that feels." Dhrel smiled at Gromthule as he got to his feet and followed the large druid.

"Let's find some place for her to rest. It will be dark soon. I'll take watch tonight. You should sleep," Gromthule scolded.

"Yes, I think I can sleep tonight. That took a lot."

After they found a large enough rock pile they made camp. Gromthule gently put Kriista's head on one of the supply bags and Dhrel curled up beside her. As Dhrel drifted off to sleep he was happy. He now had a sister. Not just any sister, one he already loved and trusted. Out of all the surprises he had endured the past year, this was by far the best.

As he watched Dhrel and Kriista sleep the adrenaline in his system began to fade. Gromthule was hurt far worse than he thought. Within a few minutes Gromthule passed out, his wounds too much for him.

# Chapter 12

In the morning Dhrel woke to find Kriista already awake. She was sitting on a rock looking down on them as they slept.

"Well that's a bit creepy," Dhrel exclaimed.

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be creepy. Was just thinking about our family. How messed up everything is."

"No need to apologize. Our family is messed up." Dhrel smiled at his sister as he climbed up on the rock beside her.

"Did you know that I never cried? Not once. Not until I met you," Kriista said returning Dhrel's smile.

"I'm sorry," Dhrel said as he looked down on Gromthule.

"No reason to be sorry. I never had any reason to cry. That's my point. I had nothing to lose, no one I cared about. Ok, I did cry once, when my mother died, but after that for almost fifty years I had no one and nothing. As messed up as our family is, I finally have someone. I have a little brother," Kriista exclaimed as she punched Dhrel in the shoulder.

"Ow! You're pretty strong. You shouldn't pick on your little brother." Dhrel rubbed his shoulder. It actually did hurt but not as much as he pretended it did.

"Bah, don't be a weeny."

"Now you call me names! What a mean big sister."

The two of them laughed. The feeling of having someone filled the void that they both felt. The death of their wives had left them both missing something, but unintentionally Lascar had given them what they both needed.

Their laughter woke Gromthule. He squinted up at them on the rock as the sun rose behind them.

"What has you two in such a good mood?" the druid asked in a weak voice.

"Nothing..." they said in unison. The tone of their voice and the way they said it told Gromthule everything he needed to know. They were happy to be siblings despite everything that had happened the day before. "Well if you two are done goofing around, we need to get our supplies and head back."

"Ok," Kriista said as she jumped from the rock and landed beside Gromthule.

"Holy crap, that's nearly ten feet down," Dhrel exclaimed. He was amazed at how gracefully Kriista landed.

"I didn't even think about it, I just knew I could do it," Kriista responded.

"Your powers are growing," Gromthule said as he tried to get to his feet. Once to his feet he stumbled and had to catch himself on the rock wall. He was not like Kriista and Dhrel, his injuries did not heal so quickly.

"Are you alright?" Kriista asked reaching for his arm.

"No, I think I broke something. Can you bring me my pants?" Gromthule asked and Kriista looked at him puzzled.

Gromthule never wore pants. He said they were too restrictive, and caused problems if he needed to change forms quickly.

"Yes, pants," Gromthule said, noticing the confused look on Kriista's face. "I need a second opinion, and it would be a bit embarrassing to remove my robe without pants on."

In truth, Gromthule would not have been embarrassed if it had been anyone else. But he considered them like his children. He did not want his "adopted" daughter to see him naked.

Kriista riffled through the supplies searching for Gromthule's pants while Dhrel climbed down from the rocks.

"Here they are," Kriista exclaimed. She held Gromthule's arm to help him balance while he painfully put his pants on. Afterward he removed his robes while he grunted in pain.

"Oh my!" Kriista exclaimed as she noticed the large purple bruises on Gromthule's ribs.

"Dhrel has a hard head," Gromthule said trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm sure crashing into the wall didn't help either," Kriista responded.

"The wall is this side," Gromthule stated as he pointed to his right side. The bruising on the right side was slightly less but still covered most of his side.

Dhrel put his hands carefully on Gromthule's left side and felt around. Dhrel's eyes began glowing light blue. Soon his hands were glowing with the same blue light.

"That won't work on me," Gromthule exclaimed. "I'm a full blooded druid. I have no human in me at all. It's the same reason you couldn't heal Kaelysa."

"Oh," Dhrel said in disappointment.

"It's a blessing and a curse. Lascar can't control my mind either."

"Well I guess that explains why he didn't take you over back in Goleth," Kriista said.

"I'm immune to quite a bit of magic from your family. Somehow Lascar can still hurt me though. And paralyze me," Gromthule explained.

"Or throw you around," Dhrel added.

"Yes, some of his magic still works on me. I imagine it's more difficult though," the large druid responded.

"So, what do we do then?" Kriista asked, growing more concerned.

"Well I can't shift while injured and I can barely stand, let alone walk. You will have to leave me here and go get help. The druids..."

"We will carry you," Kriista interrupted.

"Yes, let's find some sticks and make a sled to pull him over the sand," Dhrel added.

"I will be fine here," Gromthule complained but neither of them were listening to him any longer. Dhrel headed off toward the north trying to find sticks large enough while Kriista searched to the south, back by the wreckage of the ship, for something that they could use to tie the sticks with.

As they searched for materials, Kriista and Dhrel had a conversation with their minds.

"Is this how you and Shye used to be?" Kriista asked.

"No, this is more like talking. What Shye and I had was almost like we were the same person. We shared emotions, thoughts. We didn't have to speak. We just knew what the other was thinking," Dhrel explained.

"That would be strange, but nice at the same time," Kriista thought to Dhrel. She couldn't feel Dhrel's emotions but she could sense from the tone of Dhrel's voice in her head that the conversation about Shye was upsetting him. She needed to change the subject. "I found some wire and what looks like a chair. The material seems to be strong enough to hold Grom."

"I noticed several chairs had 'plastic' covers. That material should be strong enough to hold him. I'm going to head your way. There are no sticks here, heck there are no trees. Maybe there are some plastic poles or something that we can use," Dhrel thought as he turned back toward the ship.

"I think I found something. You need to come see this."

Kriista had gone further into the ship than they had before. Through the broken windows there was just enough light that she could see a large room. The room appeared to have glass walls but as Kriista touched the walls she realized that they weren't glass, they were clear plastic. She searched for a door but none of the walls had handles.

"This looks promising," Dhrel said as she came up behind Kriista.

"Yes, but there's no door," she replied.

"Yeah, I think this was a mechanical door that slid up," Dhrel said as he motioned toward one of the walls. "We'll have to break it."

Dhrel kicked at the door but it just bounced him back.

"This stuff is very tough," Kriista exclaimed. "Let me try."

Kriista picked up one of the metal boxes on the ground and threw it at the door. The metal box stopped as it hit the plastic wall but the corner hit with enough force to put a small crack in the wall.

"Progress!" Kriista yelled.

"Yeah, do that again," Dhrel agreed.

Kriista retrieved the metal box and threw it again, harder this time. The box smashed through the plastic wall and landed on the other side.

"There we go. Now let's see what we can find," Dhrel exclaimed as she walked through the shattered door.

After a few minutes they had found everything they needed to construct a make-shift sled for Gromthule. They had a medical cot, a sheet of plastic and a few tents. With some effort they attached the sheet of plastic to the back of the cot and one of the tents over top of the cot. This would allow one of them to pull Gromthule from the front while the back slid across the sand. Most of Gromthule's weight would be on the sled so they could take turns pulling him. The tent attached over the cot would make sure Gromthule didn't get overheated since he couldn't transform into the giant leathery beast.

After some convincing, Gromthule eventually gave in and accepted their help. They needed to get Gromthule to the druids before chasing after Lascar. The desert was slow but eventually after a few days they made it back to the swamps. Once in the swamps they were greeted by four tree spirits.

The tree spirits looked much improved from the last time they saw them. They appeared to be getting better since Dhrel had freed them from the master. Some of their bark skin was returning and they now appeared to be turning green once more.

"We thank you for everything you did for us, savior," the leader of the tree spirits thought to Dhrel.

"I can hear them," Kriista thought, not realizing that she was actually thinking to the tree spirits.

"You learned to speak to us, pretty one," the leader thought, looking at Kriista.

Kriista was a bit embarrassed about being called 'pretty one'. "My name is Kriista. Pleased to meet you."

"Kriista, such a pretty name for a pretty woman," the leader responded.

The leader was not quite back to herself but Kriista could see the beautiful woman she was becoming. If they were not in such a hurry to stop Lascar, Kriista might have taken the time to flirt with this beautiful creature. But now was not the time for personal indulgences, Lascar was getting farther ahead of them by the minute.

"I appreciate the compliment but we must stop Lascar, maybe under different circumstances," Kriista replied, trying not to offend the leader.

"I understand completely, now is not the time. Perhaps when you come back. My name would be hard for you to pronounce. You may call me Yala. It is an animal spirit word that I have always liked. It is the name of a kind of tree that grows in Xanthan," Yala explained.

"Yes, Yala, if I ever make it back here I would like to get to know you better," Kriista said blushing.

"Now that we are free..." Yala explained, looking back at Dhrel in reverence. "I will help my people to learn your spoken language. I will also try to help my people with names that you can pronounce. I wish for us to live with the xeltheen so we must learn to be like them."

"My...name...is...Yala..." Yala said out loud. Her voice was beautiful. It sounded like wind rushing through the leaves on a cool autumn morning. Her pronunciation was a bit off but everyone understood what she meant.

"I will help you to learn," Gromthule chimed in. "My people will offer you a home with us."

"I...thank...yooooooo...," Yala said, still having trouble pronouncing words in Tyrillian.

"Now you two had better head out. Lascar has a large head start. I assume he is heading to the port in Tyrillia. As far as I know there is only one port that will take you to Brizen. It is at a small town west of Donnik. I don't recall the name of the town but I'm sure you can find your way there," Gromthule explained. "And if you stay on the edge between the swamp and the desert your journey should be pretty easy. The creatures don't cross between them and generally stay away from the border."

"Are you sure you will be ok?" Kriista asked.

"We could stay and make sure you get home safely," Dhrel added.

"The tree spirits know this swamp better than I do, I'll be fine," Gromthule said. "In a few months maybe I can join you, when my ribs heal that is."

"You get better first," Kriista said as she bent down and kissed Gromthule on the forehead.

"Yes, get better first," Dhrel said as he held his hand out to Gromthule.

Gromthule reached up his hand to shake Dhrel's as he said. "You watch over each other. You are stronger than Lascar when you are together, that's why he never wins."

"This last one he almost won," Kriista said feeling guilty.

"But he didn't win, did he? You saved us," Gromthule reassured her.

Yala stepped forward and held her hand out to Dhrel. "I will see you again, my king. We await your return," Yala thought to them.

Dhrel shook Yala's hand and nodded.

Yala then turned to Kriista who held out her hand like Dhrel had, but Yala moved in closer and kissed Kriista on the lips.

"Please come back, so you can know me better," Yala thought to Kriista with a smile on her face.

Still blushing, Kriista collected their supplies and put her arm on Dhrel's shoulder. "Let's be off, brother. Before Yala changes my mind."

Dhrel smiled as he walked off with Kriista's arm on his shoulder. Maybe Kriista would be ok. It had been nearly a year since their wives had died. Perhaps Kriista had the right idea. Yala could never take Elyse's place, but they didn't have to be monks either. Dhrel pondered this as they walked away. Maybe someday he would find someone else too.

# Chapter 13

Dhrel and Kriista walked for days on the border between the swamps and the desert. They had seen no sign of Lascar and their journey was quite easy compared to their time in the desert and the swamps. They hadn't spoken much other than idle conversation to pass the time since they left Gromthule. But as they drew closer to Tyrillia, Dhrel noticed that Kriista was more quiet than usual. She seemed to be deep in thought, perhaps feeling guilty about kissing Yala.

"Are you alright, Kris?" Dhrel asked.

Kriista pulled herself from her daze to answer her brother. "I'm fine."

"It's ok, you know?" Dhrel was half asking and half telling his sister.

"What is?" Kriista replied.

"You don't have to shut yourself off. You have nothing to feel guilty about. I'm sure Elyse would understand," Dhrel answered.

"I know, but I still feel bad. It's not like I love her, I just..." Kriista stated.

"You have physical needs, doesn't mean you love Elyse any less," Dhrel reassured her.

"Now that's just weird, hearing that from my little brother is just weird." Kriista was getting a little embarrassed talking to her little brother about sex.

Dhrel laughed at her embarrassment.

"I've also been thinking about something else," Kriista interjected, trying to change the subject.

"What's that?" Dhrel asked.

"I think I was wrong back in the castle in Tyrillia. When I said we were playing checkers and Lascar was playing chess," Kriista stated, her face wrinkling up in thought again.

"How's that?" Dhrel questioned.

"It's more like we are playing checkers and he is playing the piano. We just think he's playing chess," Kriista responded.

"Piano? What does that mean?" Dhrel asked, obviously confused.

"We think he's playing chess, so we try to move our checker pieces to stop his chess pieces. Even though it's nearly impossible for us to win. But in reality Lascar is on the other side of the room playing the piano. He doesn't care if we beat his chess pieces, they are a distraction. He's changing songs, changing the tempo and we keep tapping our foot to his tempo. So by trying to beat his chess pieces we aren't paying attention to what he's really after."

"I guess I sorta see what you're saying," Dhrel responded.

"In Xanthan, at the council chambers, and again in the cave in the desert. We are doing exactly what he wants us to do," Kriista said.

"How is that? We beat him both times," Dhrel countered.

"Did we? He got what he was after. He got the key," Kriista stated. "He persuaded us to go look for the key and then he took the key. Did we really win?"

"So what do we do? Stop following him? Then he wins anyway." Dhrel could see her point but saw no way to change course.

"No, we can't let him get the rest. I guess my point is, we need to be smarter. The only time I saw that he was actually scared was when you stabbed Zephillia, caught him off guard and then nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He wasn't expecting that. And again when he saw that I had powers. That's when I began to realize that he had this all planned out. He isn't trying to kill us. I think it's more of a test or maybe even training."

"You think he knew we couldn't be killed by a sword to the heart?"

"Yes, I think he's training us, or maybe testing our strength. And at the same time keeping us on track. But I have no idea why. I saw what he did to the guardians when they turned on him. I think he could kill us in an instant if he wanted to. He is way more powerful than he is letting us see. And what's more he basically told me where the second key was and who has it. It wasn't a mistake or overconfidence. He wanted us to know where it was."

"So, maybe he can't find the keys without us? He has been alive for a thousand years and hasn't found them yet. Maybe he needs us to find them." Dhrel was beginning to see Kriista's line of thinking and it made sense to him. He wasn't sure why he hadn't seen in before.

"You know Lascar insults you and belittles you to keep you in check. You see that right?" Dhrel asked his sister.

"What do you mean?" Kriista replied.

"He wants you to think you're stupid because he's afraid of how smart you are," Dhrel answered smiling.

"You really think so?" Kriista asked, not really sure she believed her brother.

"Yes, the only thing I think he's afraid of is us outsmarting him. If you are right and he's way stronger than he's showing us then it makes sense. He wants us to think he's weaker so we get overconfident. He doesn't want us to think about it too much because we are both as smart as he is," Dhrel concluded.

"You might be right," Kriista agreed.

Dhrel and Kriista both trailed off in thought as they walked. In the distance they could see the grassy plains of Tyrillia. It was easy to see miles away on the edge of the desert. The desert had no trees and was nearly flat. They were almost there, maybe another day or so and they would be away from the swamps and the desert.

As they walked along Dhrel had a thought. It was almost time for them to make camp for the night, why not start training Kriista now?

"It's nearly night, we should make a camp fire. I can teach you what Grom and Kaelysa taught me," Dhrel said as he went a bit into the swamp to find some logs for the fire.

Kriista turned around and realized that her brother wasn't asking, he was already getting ready to make a fire.

"I suppose, it is getting dark."

Kriista wasn't quite sure she was ready for magic training, she had just found out she had powers. But at the same time she knew it was pointless to argue with Dhrel, little brother or not, he was almost always the one in charge.

In a way that comforted Kriista, she didn't like making the hard choices. The ones that could end up killing someone or getting someone hurt. She was the queen of Norzen and had to make those kind of decisions at home all the time, but out here she was glad to let Dhrel take charge.

Within a few moments Dhrel had all the logs and some tinder together and was concentrating on them trying to use magic to start the fire. Kriista saw the perfect opportunity to pick on her brother and lighten the mood, a habit she had picked up from Elyse.

"So, you are gonna teach me but you can't even get the fire lit?" Kriista laughed.

"Funny, but no, I'm trying something new. You're not the only one learning," Dhrel exclaimed with a somber look on his face. "Lascar can ignite fires, we should be able to as well. With some practice, of course."

"I was just joking," Kriista relented. She wasn't trying to upset her brother, perhaps she wasn't as good at teasing as she thought.

"I know," Dhrel replied. His somber look had turned into a grin that told Kriista it was Dhrel that had gotten the final laugh this time.

"Fine, you got me that time. So, where's this fire?" Kriista asked sarcastically. She wasn't about to let Dhrel win at this teasing game.

"Oh fine, just light it. I'll work on this later," Dhrel said in disgust. Dhrel pointed at one of the logs. "I think I have the right idea but it's just not working. Feel this log, it's warm. I just can't get it to ignite."

Kriista reached over and felt the log Dhrel pointed at.

"Yeah, you got the right idea. It's nearly hot enough to ignite," Kriista encouraged. "Try one more time."

Dhrel concentrated on the log again. He pictured flames but that didn't seem to do anything. He then had an idea. He thought back to when he used to be able to expel magic from his hands. Instead of picturing the flames he tried to feel the energy. He placed his hand on the log and tried to push energy out of his hand. Similar to how he absorbed energy from the fire, he tried to do the opposite.

Smoke began to rise from the log and soon the log began to glow red hot. In a few seconds Dhrel removed his hand and the log burst into flames.

"You did it!" Kriista exclaimed. "Teach me how."

Dhrel looked up at her and his surprised expression turned to a fiendish grin.

"First you have to learn how to absorb energy, then I'll show you how to use it."

"Ok, what do I do?" Kriista asked excitedly.

"First just put your hand near the fire. Feel the heat." Dhrel watched as Kriista did exactly what he told her to do. "Ok, now close your eyes and think about the energy that is making the heat. Feel the energy and try to pull it into your hand."

Kriista shut her eyes and tried to do as Dhrel told her but all she could feel was the heat. She couldn't feel the energy.

"I don't think it's working," Kriista said. She opened her eyes and stared at Dhrel with a disappointed look.

"Don't give up just yet. It's complicated and simple at the same time. Once you feel it, the rest comes easy. It's like trying to push a heavy rock down a hill. The hard part is to get it moving in the first place." Dhrel tried to explain in a way that Kriista would understand.

Kriista stuck out her hand and shut her eyes to try again.

"Now, move your hand closer to the fire, just a little bit," Dhrel instructed.

Kriista slowly moved her hand closer to the fire. As her hand got closer, the heat felt less intense. It was like her body was trying to protect her again. Her power worked differently than Dhrel's but the result was similar.

Kriista's body began to absorb the energy, but once it started it picked up momentum. The flames began to rush toward Kriista's outstretched hand and soon the flames began to die down as Kriista absorbed all the energy.

"That's interesting," Dhrel commented. "You are taking the energy faster than the fire can handle."

Kriista opened her eyes and watched as the flames touched her hand.

"Whoa, I can't even feel the heat anymore. It feels great. I feel great."

"Yes, it does have that side effect," Dhrel laughed.

Kriista pulled her hand away from the fire and the flames began to grow again.

"And tomorrow when the sun is up, try to imagine the same thing but from the sun. Just sit in the sun with your eyes closed and try to absorb the energy from the sunshine. As Grom says, 'It's more efficient'," Dhrel said in his best Gromthule voice.

This made Kriista laugh. She thought of how much she would miss Grom which led her to think about Lastian.

"I wish father had told me. I mean, I know he had his reasons not to, but I just wish I could have known he was my father when he was alive." Kriista's tone turned sad as she spoke.

"Yeah, I wish I could have known him at all," Dhrel replied in the same tone. This got Dhrel thinking about Lastian's journal.

"You know, I have father's journal. Perhaps there's something in it for you. I've read the thing almost a hundred times and I keep finding things in it that I swear weren't there before," Dhrel said as he reached in his pack and took out the journal.

Just as Dhrel held out the journal to Kriista it began to rain farther out in the desert. Kriista looked up at the sky with a concerned look on her face.

"What's wrong Kris?" Dhrel asked.

"It never rains in the desert. I mean never. Not even once in a thousand years has it rained here." As Kriista spoke she stood up and looked out at the rain falling in the desert.

"Never?" Dhrel asked in disbelief.

"As far as I know, never," Kriista replied.

Dhrel stood up and set the journal down beside the fire. He joined Kriista and stared out at the rain which was now pouring down maybe a day's walk out into the desert. The rain clouds were dark and ominous looking, and heading their way.

"We're going to need some shelter. That looks like a pretty bad storm," Kriista said looking at Dhrel.

"Yeah, but I don't really want to go into the swamps. It's dark now, the spiders will be everywhere," Dhrel replied.

"Well, maybe we can..." Kriista stopped as lighting shot across the sky and lit up everything.

"What was that?!" Kriista yelled.

"Oh no!" Dhrel yelled. "That's lightning!" As he said this he realized that Kriista had no idea what lightning was. He had seen it in the vision from the tree spirits, but she hadn't. "It's electricity."

"Do you think that means..."

"Yes!" Dhrel responded before Kriista finished her question. "It means Lascar has figured out how to use the key!"

As quickly as the rain started, it stopped. The sky cleared up and the stars were visible again.

"What the..." Kriista exclaimed.

Dhrel turned to Kriista with a satisfied smile on his face. "He hasn't quite figured out how to use it yet. We still have time."

"Good, because that looked bad," Kriista sighed.

Kriista turned back to the fire to put another log in and noticed that Lastian's journal was in the fire. Dhrel had apparently hit it with his foot in the excitement but the journal wasn't burning.

"The journal, it's not on fire!" Kriista exclaimed.

Dhrel immediately turned and grabbed the journal out of the camp fire. He held it up to inspect the damages but there were none.

"It's not even warm," Dhrel said in disbelief.

"Maybe that's why it changes every time you read it. It's magical?" Kriista pondered.

"It must be," Dhrel said handing the journal to his sister.

Kriista slid her hands all around the journal also inspecting it for damage but found nothing. She then opened the journal to the first page and began to read.

Dear Kriista,

I'm sorry that I wasn't able to tell you that I was your father. And if you are reading this, then I am probably dead or missing, but at least now you know the truth.

I couldn't risk putting you in danger. Please understand, I love you very much. You are my first child, my oldest. Everything I have done was to protect you.

You seem to have a power deep within you that I don't understand. It's not like mine or Lascar's and I don't know how to teach you to use it.

I will learn what I can and hopefully put what I find out in this journal.

If some day you learn to use this power, you will be able to defend yourself against Lascar. Until then I can't risk him finding out whose daughter you really are.

I'm sorry for the secrecy and deception, but it is the best way to protect you, for now.

Love,

Lastian.

Kriista set the book in her lap and tears began to well up in her eyes.

"What is it?" Dhrel asked worried.

"It is magic. The first page is a note from father to me," Kriista said as she closed the book and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"It must change based on what we need or who's touching it?" Dhrel wasn't quite sure and was as much asking as telling Kriista.

"That sounds about right," Kriista said as she reopened the book and read some more.

Dhrel was quiet for a while as Kriista read. He thought about his father and about Lascar. Had Lascar really planned all this out? Were they really just moving to Lascar's tempo as Kriista put it? There must be some way to stop this. Even if he had everything planned out, there must be some way to change course and do something Lascar wouldn't expect.

After a while Kriista put the book down with a smile on her face.

"I think I found it. A way to get the upper hand," Kriista said. "Father talks about Lascar's study, but you and I never found a study."

Dhrel stared at Kriista. She was right they had never found a study, but where could Lascar have hidden a whole room. Surely someone would have found it in all the time that Lascar was gone from Stone's Rest.

"I think I know where it might be," Kriista continued. "In the upstairs, across from Father's room there should be another room."

"Yeah, there should be another room. Lascar's room doesn't take up the whole other side of that floor, something must be there," Dhrel interrupted, understanding what Kriista was getting at.

"Exactly," Kriista agreed. "The problem is that there is no door. He must have hidden the door somehow."

"Ok, in the morning we will head to Stone's Rest and find that room," Dhrel announced.

"No, in the morning I will head to Stone's Rest. You need to head to Goleth and officially become king. Our people need leadership and peace of mind. It's nearly as important as stopping Lascar."

Dhrel looked down at the fire. He knew Kriista was right. He needed to become king before they left for Brizen.

"Yes, you are right. Our people need some peace of mind." Dhrel paused for a second to think about their trip to Brizen. "Who knows how long we will be gone. We have only found one of the six keys. I may be early for the ceremony but I think they will make an exception when I explain how long we will be gone. I mean, this could take years."

"Exactly," Kriista agreed. "We need to make sure everything here is running smoothly before we go."

"We should get some sleep," Dhrel added. "Tyrillia is still a day or more and then we have to find a town that has horses."

"Let's just hope Lascar can't figure out how to use that key before we are done," Kriista said as she took the bed roll out of her pack and settled down with her back to the fire.

"Night sis," Dhrel said as he did the same.

Kriista rolled over and faced Dhrel which caused Dhrel to do the same.

"Please don't call me sis," Kriista paused for a second. "Father used to call me sis and it just brings back bad memories."

"I'm sorry," Dhrel replied. "I didn't know."

"It's ok, there was no way for you to know that." Kriista smiled at Dhrel and then rolled back over.

Dhrel rolled over onto his back and stared at the stars. What a messed up life they had. If their grandfather hadn't turned out to be evil and hell-bent on destroying the world maybe Lastian could have been a real father to them. But as Dhrel thought he realized that it was pointless to wish for what could never be. He needed to concentrate on what they could do now. After all, he did have a sister now. And she was perfect. He couldn't have hoped for a better sister.

# Chapter 14

Lascar sat on a bench at the docks in the Tyrillian port city of Shojeth. Zephillia sat next to him, her health much improved. The long docks had no ships but had room for probably ten or more. Shojeth was once a major port to the continent of Brizen, but since Lascar's rule it was nearly abandoned and in truth was port for only one ship. The single ship that still carried goods and passengers to Brizen only had one destination, the Brizen port of Gojeth.

As Lascar sat on the docks he pondered the names of the two ports. In Tyrillian the names had no meaning and sounded like a silly rhyme made up by school children. But in ancient Xeltheen, the names had simple meanings, west port and east port. When humans first came they adopted them as city names, when in reality the druids used these words as descriptions. Over the years even the Brizen city had adopted the name Gojeth, despite its original name, which no one could remember.

"Xeltheen language has a certain appeal, don't you think?" Lascar asked his wife.

"Yes, I suppose it does," Zephillia responded, wondering what Lascar was getting at. Lascar was not a man for idle conversation or small talk, he must have a purpose.

"I sometimes wish father had let me learn xeltheen when I was a boy," Lascar said trailing off in thought of his cruel father.

"Yes, my mother forbade me to learn it as well. She thought it was a sacrilege or perhaps, more accurately, a betrayal of our people," Zephillia joined Lascar in pondering their cruel parents.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation Lascar turned again to continue the conversation.

"Father only ever let me learn one language, besides Tyrillian." Lascar paused for a moment to make sure Zephillia was paying attention. "An ancient human language called Latin." He paused again letting Zephillia consider his musings.

After a few moments, when Zephillia added nothing, Lascar continued.

"It was a silly language, it had no style, no passion. Too similar to Tyrillian in form, even some Tyrillian words are based on Latin ones." Lascar paused again waiting for his wife to join the conversation, but it was apparent that even though she looked well, she wasn't feeling well.

"Are you doing ok?" Lascar asked with concern. It was an emotion that no one, besides Zephillia had ever seen from the evil king. He truly cared for her and only her.

"I am still a little foggy," Zephillia responded putting her hand on her forehead to reinforce the statement.

"Soon, I will be able to fix that as well. Not much longer dear, I promise." Lascar then looked downward and tried to turn the conversation to something more constructive.

"The plan is taking shape now, not much longer," he said putting his hand on Zephillia's leg.

Zephillia looked at Lascar and tried to smile, but the despair in her gaze did not go unnoticed.

"What if they don't follow?" Zephillia asked.

"They will follow, it may be a week, it may be a month, but they will follow," he reassured his wife.

"How can you be sure?" she asked.

"If they have decided to go back home, I have left them a few 'incentives' to make sure they get back on the right track." The way Lascar said incentives coupled with the evil grin on his face made Zephillia feel much better.

"So you're still ten steps ahead of them I take it?" Zephillia asked, almost knowing the answer.

"Yes, they can change the course of their journey but I still control the destination," the evil king replied. "We have no need to rush things, time is running out, but we still have plenty left."

Lascar's words again comforted his wife. She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. After a few minutes a ship was visible on the horizon. Lascar turned to his wife as he lifted her head gently.

"It's time dear, we can't let too many people know you've been resurrected." Lascar paused for a moment to find the right way to say it. "Also, it adds to the performance for our grandchildren."

His evil grin again comforted Zephillia. As she stood up she began to grow smaller and younger. Within a few seconds she was the image of a young human girl about ten years old with long blond hair and a pale complexion.

"Perfect! No need to change your name. We have to leave them some clues. They aren't the brightest some times and we don't want them getting lost," Lascar said as he grabbed their bags and began walking toward the end of the dock.

# Chapter 15

After a few days Dhrel and Kriista found a Tyrillian town that had horses for sale. They said their good-byes and each headed to their own capitol. Within a few weeks Dhrel arrived at Goleth. He was again amazed at how little the city changed. The world was falling apart as Lascar was completing his plan but Goleth looked as beautiful and serene as ever.

After spending some time admiring the unchanging nature of the town Dhrel made his way to the council chambers. Again the council was in the debate room with the doors closed. Dhrel could hear Godrich yelling, although he couldn't quite make out what the blowhard was going on about this time. Dhrel walked closer to the doors and the voices became clearer, Godrich making another attempt to undermine the trade agreement with Norzen.

"We gave them grain and haven't heard a single word about progress or repayment," Godrich said in disgust. "I think they are planning something! What if they keep the grain and attack us?"

No one in the room responded. With the exception of Godrich's ranting, the room was silent.

"I move that we send hunters to spy on these so called farmers. See what they are up to!" Godrich yelled but again no one answered.

After greeting the guards with a Xeltheen bow, Dhrel walked through the large doors. Godrich's expression turned to an evil grin as he noticed Dhrel.

"Oh, our future king graces us with his presence. Perhaps he can shed some light on what those filthy Draelic's are planning," Godrich said crossing his arms over his chest.

Dhrel looked around the room as the council members all turned to look at him. He noticed that Lethian wasn't there.

"Where is Lethian?" Dhrel asked, intentionally ignoring Godrich's question.

"He is ill, so I am filling in for him," Godrich responded.

Even though Dhrel's emotion reading wasn't quite what it used to be, somehow he got the sense that Godrich wasn't happy about Lethian being ill. Which was strange coming from someone who should be Lethian's political rival. The feeling only lasted a second and then Dhrel could feel nothing again. How he wished he could remaster this ability. With it coming and going he couldn't rely on it.

"I would like to go see Lethian. I have some court business to discuss with him," Dhrel lied.

"Anything you have to discuss with him can be discussed with me. I am foreperson temporarily and have all the privileges until Lethian returns," Godrich said with a grin.

"I would feel better discussing this with Lethian. Where might I find him?" Dhrel asked trying to copy Godrich's tone.

"He is at his home, in the country. He has been ill for a few weeks now. One of the guards can show you the way," Godrich said in disgust as he waved his hand.

"And to answer your question," Dhrel said in a commanding tone. "The Draelic are working hard preparing the fields. They have no soldiers on our borders. In fact, most of the soldiers are out working the fields with the farmers and I hear the crops are doing quite well. Early estimates say that we should get more than a years' worth of grain in payment this year. If things keep going the way they are, by next year's harvest we will have a surplus of grain."

Godrich again crossed his arms and glared at Dhrel.

"I would like the council to start organizing our farmers in preparation for the harvest season. We want to make sure we have enough vegetables and livestock to trade. I also thought we might give them a few yearling hogs," Dhrel paused a second to gauge the responses around the room. "Draelic used to be the main suppliers of hogs as well as grain. If we give them some yearlings to start raising, our people can concentrate on animals that do better in our climate, like cattle and sheep."

"You want us to trade for grain they owe us?! How preposterous! And now you want us to give them hogs?!" Godrich yelled.

"We gave them the grain as a gift, to get negotiations and trade off to a good start," Dhrel stated calmly.

"I never agreed to this," Godrich said, his tone still louder and angrier than was appropriate.

"You were out voted. Please discuss my proposition about the hogs and remember, we stand to gain more than we are giving," Dhrel said satisfied that he had outmaneuvered Godrich. "Oh yes, I would ask that any farmer willing to give a yearling hog to the Draelic be given enough grain from the stores to make sure they are well compensated."

"WHAT!?!" Godrich protested. "You want us to deplete our stores even more?!"

"As I said, by next year's harvest, we should have a surplus of grain," Dhrel said calmly. "If we treat our new allies as friends, that is."

Dhrel didn't wait for Godrich to respond, he quickly turned and walked back out the large doors and shut them behind him. He could hear Godrich ranting but this time some of the other council members were chiming in. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying with the doors shut, but it sounded like some of the council members were against Godrich.

Before Dhrel could ask, one of the guards turned to him.

"I would be glad to take you to Lethian's house after my shift is over, Lord Dhrel," the guard said meekly.

"Please, just Dhrel or King Dhrel if you must, but never Lord. I am no better than you, we just have different jobs," Dhrel said considerately.

"Yes, sir," the guard said courteously.

"Sir works, remember I'm your superior, not your better," Dhrel reassured the guard.

The other guard smiled, then quickly returned to attention, hoping he hadn't offended Dhrel.

Dhrel turned to the other guard.

"Don't worry, I hope to rule like my mother. From what I hear, she was quite kind," Dhrel said to the worried guard.

The first guard was beginning to see that Dhrel was not like other kings or queens, even Meelaranda was not so informal with the guards.

"I hope you don't mind my saying but you act more like your father, than your mother. He was not just our king, he was our friend," the first guard said seeming a bit uncomfortable speaking to a king so bluntly.

"Good," Dhrel said placing his hand on the guard's shoulder.

The guard nearly jumped out of his armor. Dhrel wasn't sure if the guard expected punishment or cruelty, but neither was Dhrel's intent.

"I hope someday you will see me that way," Dhrel concluded as he walked out of the council chambers toward where he had left his horse.

# Chapter 16

Dhrel decided not to wait for the guard to get off duty and after the guard gave Dhrel detailed instructions the young king found it quite easy to locate Lethian's house. In fact, Lethian's farm was the only farm directly north of Goleth, as well as one of the largest farms Dhrel had ever seen. The entire farm was so large that Dhrel couldn't see the end of it. Judging from the size of the farm, Dhrel thought Lethian's family must be one of the largest cattle farmers in Xanthan.

As Dhrel walked up the stone steps to the modest looking house he was greeted by many of the people working at the farm. Each one of them gave Dhrel a simple bow, some of them welcoming him, others simply saying 'My king' with a bow. It was very strange to Dhrel, even in Goleth he was not greeted with such formality. When Dhrel had reached the front door, it opened before he could knock.

"Welcome my king. I am Lethian's brother Sarthol. Please come in," the rather large xeltheen man said as he motioned for Dhrel to enter.

Dhrel was impressed with Sarthol, as hard and rough as Lethian looked, Sarthol was more rugged. It was very obvious to Dhrel that Sarthol worked the farm, the men outside were his employees but he was the type of man that worked harder than any of them. It was hard for Dhrel to believe that Sarthol was Lethian's brother. Where Lethian looked like a typical xeltheen, only more weathered and hardened, Sarthol was far more muscular and larger than any xeltheen Dhrel had ever seen. Although large for a xeltheen, Sarthol was still quite a bit smaller than the huge druid, Gromthule. In fact, Sarthol looked like he was human, or at least part human.

"Pleased to meet you," Dhrel said holding out his hand.

Sarthol had no idea what a handshake was and Dhrel quickly corrected himself and bowed instead.

"Lethian said you would come, but I didn't believe him," Sarthol stated as he led Dhrel through the house toward the bedroom area. "I mean, a king coming to visit a lowly farmer at his home? That is the stuff of fairy tales. Are you and Lethian more than just friends?"

Dhrel was a bit embarrassed at Sarthol's insinuations but composed himself quickly.

"No, Lethian is just the only council member I can trust. And my friend," Dhrel responded as Sarthol opened Lethian's bedroom door.

"I told you, Dhrel is not my boyfriend. My boyfriend lives in Goleth and you can meet him as soon as it's safe for him," Lethian said with a weak voice.

"Safe?" Dhrel answered, obviously confused.

"Things at the council are going badly Dhrel, I mean my king," Lethian said forgetting who he was talking to.

"We're not in the council chambers, Dhrel is fine," Dhrel corrected his friend.

Sarthol looked on suspiciously, he still wasn't quite sure that Lethian was telling the truth.

"Quit it Sarthol, Dhrel had a wife a year ago. I'm sure I'm not his type," Lethian said to his brother, straining to increase the volume of his voice.

"Alright, I'll leave you two to talk politics," Sarthol said as he dismissed his suspicions and walked out of the room.

"Now, what did you mean it's not safe for your boyfriend?" Dhrel asked again more seriously.

"I don't think I'm sick. I think I've been poisoned. Things are tense at the council. Many of the members are suspicious of Draelic spies no matter how many reports we get to the contrary. It's like someone is feeding them false information and when I started digging into who it was I suddenly became ill," Lethian said quickly and then began coughing.

"Strange," Dhrel said as he stood up and began pacing. "And now Godrich is trying to insight more hysteria by saying the Draelic aren't going to trade the grain back to us."

"No, that can't be right. Godrich has been helping me keep tabs on everyone. He brings me weekly updates along with some of my favorite tea," Lethian protested. "He tells me who is acting out but says that he's been trying to reassure them that the treaty is being honored by the Draelic."

"That isn't what I walked in on today," Dhrel said with a worried look on his face. "Godrich was proposing that the council send spies to Norzen to find out what the farmers are really up to. I think he is the one trying to invalidate the treaty, but I'm not sure why."

"This is very concerning." Lethian had another coughing fit and tried to catch his breath while talking. "H...h..."

"I know you think he can't be the one but can I check your tea?" Dhrel interrupted.

"What I was going to say was. How could I have missed that? He is the one that brings me tea. He could easily be the one poisoning me. I'm not that naïve, Dhrel," Lethian said barely able to catch his breath. "It's in the kitchen, ask Sarthol. He brings it to me. He knows where it is."

Dhrel smiled at Lethian and turned back toward the kitchen to find Sarthol.

Lethian surprised Dhrel. Even though everyone seemed to think Lethian was ill suited to be foreperson of the council, he was very quick witted. Apparently he hid his talents well and for good reason. It was easier to find out who your enemies were when they underestimated you. After some thought, Dhrel decided that Lethian was actually perfect for the foreperson's position. Everyone thought him a naïve farm boy who was easily tricked. Dhrel also wondered where Lethian picked up such a knack for politics. It wasn't something you were just born with, someone must have taught him.

Dhrel found his way to the kitchen and saw Sarthol pouring some tea in a glass. A horrible thought crossed Dhrel's mind. What if it's Sarthol? Would Lethian's own brother be in on this? Or maybe it was his idea?

"Sarthol?" Dhrel began. "Can I see that tea?"

"So you think it's in the tea as well?" Sarthol said handing the glass to Dhrel. "I told Lethian that snake Godrich could be poisoning his tea but I drank some and I feel fine. I knew that Godrich was up to no good."

Dhrel was relieved, having a would-be assassin in the council was one thing, but if it was Lethian's own brother, that was something entirely different.

"Does Godrich bring anything else?" Dhrel asked as he sniffed the tea.

"Just some rola fruit, Lethian hates them, but they are my fav..." Sarthol stopped mid-sentence, lost in thought. After a few seconds he looked extremely angry. "I'm an idiot!"

Sarthol quickly grabbed the strange, orange and bumpy fruit from the bowl on the table and ran to Lethian's room. Dhrel quickly followed with the glass of tea.

"Lethian, eat this!" Sarthol yelled. He handed Lethian the rola fruit and turned to Dhrel. "Rola fruit is a natural remedy for snake venom. I wouldn't be affected because I eat the remedy every day!"

Lethian winced as he bit into the strange fruit and juice ran down his chin.

Dhrel was surprised at Sarthol's quick mind. He was as quick witted and intelligent as his brother. These two men must have been taught by someone, they were both way too smart for it to be a coincidence.

"How is it that two farmers are this smart?" Dhrel asked hoping he wasn't being prejudice.

"Oh, so farmers can't be smart?" Sarthol asked but his expression wasn't angry, it was more like he was teasing Dhrel.

"No, farmers are smart, but someone taught you. You know way too much about politics and snake bite remedies to be self-taught," Dhrel responded.

"Ha, don't worry. I'm not offended. And yes, we were taught by a very smart man," Sarthol said as he gave Dhrel a strange look and then waited. It was almost as Sarthol thought Dhrel should know the answer but he didn't.

"Your father, you dolt," Sarthol laughed. "Didn't he tell you? He looked after us after our father died. Came out every week to check up on us and teach us how to handle ourselves. Oh and math, science, politics, reading, writing, everything a big city school would teach us."

Lethian grabbed Sarthol's arm trying to interrupt but he still couldn't speak very loud.

"Sar, Dhrel didn't know his father," Lethian whispered.

Sarthol's expression turned from teasing to remorseful in a second.

"Oh sir, I'm very sorry. I assumed..." Sarthol trailed off. He didn't need to finish the sentence, his point was made.

"No worries, I'm just glad you two had such a good teacher. Because I'm going to need some help with this politics thing," Dhrel said almost embarrassed. "We need to expose Godrich and find out why he did this. Killing him won't accomplish what we need."

"I think I see where you're going with this," Lethian whispered and Sarthol nodded.

"We also don't know if he's working alone," Dhrel added.

"Exactly, now you're starting to think like a politician," Sarthol said with a smile.

"Actually I was trying to think like an assassin," Dhrel said.

"Same thing," Sarthol laughed.

"Hey now, I'm a politician," Lethian protested in a hoarse voice.

Sarthol looked at Dhrel still smiling.

"I tried to stop him but Lastian made it sound so glamorous. How could an impressionable young boy choose cows over that?" Sarthol's smile grew even wider.

"Well you did, maybe you're the smart one after all?" Dhrel began smiling just like Sarthol and they both looked at Lethian.

"If I wasn't poisoned I'd throw this disgusting fruit at you both," Lethian said in a whisper, smiling back at them.

"So how exactly can we expose Godrich and find out who he is working with?" Sarthol asked, returning to a more serious tone.

"Well, we could do my ceremony to become king early." Dhrel paced a bit trying to think. "And if you came back to work Godrich might start to get nervous. We don't confront him, we let his imagination tear him apart."

Lethian coughed a bit and tried to clear his throat. Dhrel wasn't sure if it was the fruit he obviously hated or the fact that he was poisoned that was causing Lethian to struggle with talking now.

"So I act like I suddenly love this disgusting thing?" Lethian said holding up the rola.

"No, you just act like you suddenly got better and say as little as possible about it. That way Godrich has to imagine what really happened," Dhrel said with an evil grin. "We want him to worry, 'Do they know? Are they gonna kill me?'" Dhrel said in his best Godrich voice.

"Oh, you want to make him nervous," Sarthol said finally seeing what Dhrel had in mind.

"Yes, then hopefully he will try something more drastic while we're watching. That way we can see if he has help and maybe figure out why he did this," Dhrel said expanding on Sarthol's conclusion.

"And the ceremony? How does that fit in?" Lethian asked.

"You are healed and Godrich doesn't know how or why. Then you approve me taking the throne early, he gets even more panicked. He thinks he has months before I'm king. If his plan is to take over the council and undermine me then he will have to do something extreme to keep his plan going," Dhrel answered.

"Force his hand. You would make a good politician," Sarthol said grinning snidely at Dhrel.

"Actually I've been learning from my encounters from Lascar. Winning is as much about strategy as it is about force. Do you think you will be well enough tomorrow to address the council about my early ceremony?" Dhrel asked, changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

"If this rola doesn't kill me I should be fine tomorrow," Lethian answered, sickened by the rola he was eating.

"Good, I should head back to town. I need to sleep in my bed so that Godrich doesn't figure this out too soon," Dhrel said as he headed for the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the meeting, get there early if you want to see the look on Godrich's face as I walk in," Lethian said smiling again.

"I don't want to miss that," Dhrel said as he shut the door.

Dhrel walked to his horse and headed back to town. Dhrel had a bad feeling that Godrich wasn't working alone, that he was somehow working for Lascar. Maybe he was being paranoid. There was no sense in making Lethian and Sarthol worry for nothing. Godrich wouldn't be the first overly ambitious man to try and kill his political opponent. But Dhrel just couldn't shake the feeling that was yet another piece of Lascar's intricate plan.

One other thing bothered Dhrel as he rode back to town. How did Sarthol not realize it was snake venom? Also it seemed like Sarthol was trying too hard to make Dhrel believe he knew nothing about him and Lastian. Everyone knew Lastian died when Dhrel was only three, how could a man so obviously intelligent not know this? There was just something about Sarthol that made Dhrel suspicious but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Perhaps his dealings with Lascar had made him too suspicious of everyone, maybe it was just Dhrel being paranoid again.

# Chapter 17

The next morning Dhrel rose early so that he could arrive at the council meeting before Godrich. Godrich was a man of ritual, he arrived at exactly the same time every morning and left at the same time every night. People often speculated that he ate the same meal at exactly the same time every night as well.

When Godrich arrived he proceeded to go about his daily ritual. He checked the mail on the way in and put everyone's mail on their desk. He then went to his desk to make his morning tea and when it was finished he walked into the council chambers with his stack of meeting notes from the previous day. Godrich was nearly always the first to arrive and because of this he used the morning to review the previous day's meeting and plan his strategy for the day. But this day he was not greeted by empty council chambers. Today as he opened the doors he saw Lethian on the stage shuffling with notes and Dhrel sitting in the king's chair behind him.

Dhrel was the first to notice Godrich and the look on Godrich's face was not what Dhrel expected. Instead of surprise, Godrich looked happy to see Lethian. Then as Godrich realized Dhrel was there the look turned to loathing. This confused Dhrel. Godrich obviously had a dislike for him but he seemed genuinely happy to see that Lethian was alive and well. If only he could read Godrich's emotions, then he would know for sure.

"Lethian!" Godrich exclaimed with more enthusiasm than Dhrel had ever seen from the man. "You are better I take it? You can resume your duties?"

"Actually, I'm still a bit weak but figured it was a good time to start getting caught up on my work. I have left you with so much to do, I felt like I should give you a hand," Lethian answered still not quite trusting Godrich.

"Oh, thank the maker! I'm not sure I can take much more of this. You can keep your job, I had no idea what the foreperson had to deal with every day. That being said, I appreciate you trusting me enough to 'temporarily' take your place, but if I have to do this one more week I think I'll go insane," Godrich said in an upbeat tone. After addressing Lethian he again turned his gaze to Dhrel and the loathing returned to his face. "Your highness."

Dhrel was now completely confused. If Godrich was being sincere, which Dhrel was inclined to believe that he was, then who tried to poison Lethian? He needed to find out, but asking Godrich directly wasn't an option. Dhrel needed to keep their findings a secret, perhaps one of the other council members would slip up and show their hand as they came in. Or maybe it was the person who prepared the tea? Maybe someone Godrich met along the way to Lethian's house? So many possibilities, how could he figure out which lead to follow? Then he remembered something Draylen once said. 'If you have a complicated problem it is better to start somewhere rather than nowhere.' A simple adage, although Draylen was referring to math problems, but Dhrel thought the principle was still the same.

"Where did you get that interesting tea you brought to Lethian's house? I would like to pick some up for myself," Dhrel asked, careful of how he phrased the question.

"I make it myself, it's a family recipe. I don't think my mother would approve of me sharing it," Godrich replied, the distain in his voice clear to Lethian as well.

"Watch your tone, councilman Godrich. That is your future king," Lethian scolded.

"My apologies, my family is just very protective of that recipe," Godrich said. As he spoke the distain returned. "If you don't mind, I need to review yesterday's session notes." After he finished Godrich took his seat and proceeded to go over the notes. Periodically, as he read, he would glance up at Dhrel with a hateful look.

Dhrel sat on his throne contemplating what lead to check next, but his mind kept returning to the nagging feeling that Sarthol was hiding something. How could Sarthol poison his own brother? Why would Sarthol poison his own brother? He needed to question Sarthol, but in a way that would not alert the intelligent man.

While the young king thought about Sarthol the council members arrived one by one, each greeting Lethian and showing no signs of dissent. Dhrel was wrong about this being political. He began thinking about the conversations he had with Sarthol. Was Sarthol too quick to agree with Dhrel's idea that the motive was political or was he still being paranoid? It was as if Dhrel was caught up in one of the great spy novels Draylen read to him as a boy. He didn't know who he could trust, even Lethian could be part of this. The only one the young king knew he could trust was Kriista and she was far away, probably dealing with her own countries problems.

After some thought on his situation the young king decided to be cautious, he needed to treat everyone as if they could be part of this. He needed to question Sarthol and Lethian separately and in a way that would not arouse their suspicions. He needed to appear to be helping them but at the same time Dhrel needed to keep his opinions of them objective. Finally the young king decided that he needed to try to look at them as Kriista would see them. Not that Kriista was overly suspicious it was more about the fact that he was far too trusting.

Dhrel was lost in thought and not paying attention to the council meeting when Lethian addressed him directly.

"King Dhrel?" Lethian asked. "You wanted to bring up something before the council?"

"Oh, yes, my apologies. I was pondering another situation," Dhrel responded trying to hide the fact that he was completely uninterested in the council meeting.

"You have the floor sir," Lethian said as he took the seat beside Dhrel.

Dhrel stood and walked slowly to the podium. When he finally reached the podium he paced a bit as if he was searching for how to say what was on his mind. In truth he was trying to judge the reactions of the council members before he spoke. Most of them looked interested, somewhat bored, or even a few seemed completely oblivious to his presence.

"What I want to propose may seem a bit out of the ordinary. But, currently we have an out of the ordinary situation," Dhrel said as he continued to pace. "As you know I have been attempting to stop Lascar from regaining control of our country. With Queen Kriista's help we have discovered that he has headed to Brizen."

As Dhrel said the word Brizen, every council member became immediately interested.

"He has plans for retrieving something from there that he can use to regain control. Since I intend to follow him and stop him I propose that we have the ceremony for me to become king early. In fact I was hoping to leave for Brizen next week."

One of the council members stood and waited to be addressed but Dhrel had no idea about council procedure. Lethian stood and tried to help.

"Councilwoman Liana, you are recognized," Lethian said before returning to his seat.

"The ceremony is called the Sharlok Trial. And I second the motion," Liana said and quickly returned to her seat.

"Yes, my apologies, I am new to this. I didn't even know it had a name," Dhrel said somewhat embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

Lethian again stood.

"You are to be king, it is our job to keep track of these things. No apology is necessary." Lethian paused a second to wait for any objections but no one stood. "The motion has been seconded, all in favor..." Lethian again paused and counted hands. Everyone but Godrich raised their hand. "All opposed?" Lethian looked at Godrich but Godrich didn't raise his hand for opposition either. "All abstaining?" This time Godrich raised his hand.

Godrich was a smart man, he didn't want to directly object to the new king's first motion before the council but Godrich didn't like breaking tradition. By abstaining Godrich was not required to explain himself but at the same time everyone knew he did not agree with the council's decision.

"Do you wish the floor Councilman Godrich?" Lethian asked.

Godrich just stared at Dhrel, arms crossed over his chest. "No."

"The motion passes, the Sharlok Trial will be scheduled for tomorrow morning at dawn." Lethian turned to face Dhrel. "If that is alright with you, sir?"

"Yes, tomorrow is perfect," Dhrel answered. "One more thing before I step down, if I may?"

"Of course, you still have the floor," Lethian said as he returned to the seat beside the throne.

"I will be gone for an undetermined amount of time. I presume at least two years." Dhrel scanned the room for reactions and noticed that a few of the council members looked worried, while Godrich looked pleased. "While I am gone, I leave our kingdom in your capable hands. With Lethian as foreperson I need not worry about the treaty with the Draelic. Lethian has executed my plan flawlessly and I would like to recognize his excellent leadership during my absence." Dhrel paused for a moment. He needed to recognize Godrich as well but he wanted it to be seen as sincere. "During Lethian's illness Godrich has stepped up to carry some of that weight. With Godrich and Lethian, I feel I am leaving the council and our country in good hands. Thank you and I must be going to prepare for the Sharlok Trial. Please continue with your normal council meeting."

Dhrel looked at Godrich as he walked from the stage. The look on Godrich's face now confused the young king even more. Dhrel had expected more distain, even loathing but Godrich's expression was one of nervousness, maybe even fear. What could he have said to make Godrich react this way? Whatever the reason, Dhrel couldn't think about it now, he needed to focus on the trial. It wasn't the Sharlok tiger he was worried about, he could easily kill the tiger. It was finding a way to defeat the tiger without killing it that was concerning him. How was he going to subdue the huge tiger without harming the poor creature? Dhrel needed to set a new example for the kingdom to follow. He needed to show his people that killing wasn't always necessary.

Dhrel returned to his room where he found the large library quite useful. There were many books dedicated to the largest carnivore in Lascaria. Somewhere in all these books there had to be the answer he was searching for. Dhrel searched the books well into the night before finally finding some information that might help him subdue the tiger. With renewed confidence that he could show his people a new way, Dhrel went to bed.

# Chapter 18

The following morning Dhrel was up at the break of dawn. He had a small breakfast and then headed off to the council chambers to meet with the hunters and huntresses that were to 'protect' their future king if he couldn't manage to kill the Sharlok. Thinking of this made Dhrel smirk, causing his escort to worry about their future king's sanity. To them the Sharlok was a creature to fear and respect, to Dhrel it was a puzzle to be figured out. How to subdue the Sharlok without accidentally killing the poor thing.

When Dhrel and his escort finally arrived at the Sharlok Trial, the young king was greeted by the council, Lethian included. Searching the small crowd that was gathered there he noticed someone out of place, Sarthol. Since only council members and the hunters and huntresses were allowed at the ceremony, Dhrel wondered why Sarthol was there.

"Sarthol?" Dhrel called out as he made his way through the small crowd to the rugged xeltheen man.

"Yes, my king?" Sarthol responded with a courteous bow.

"How did you talk them into letting you attend?" the young king asked. "And please, call me Dhrel. You are neither a guard nor part of the council, you have no reason to be so formal."

"As you wish, Dhrel. And I am here as a special exception to watch over my brother. He is still not quite recovered," the rugged xeltheen responded.

"You take care of him like a father. If you don't mind can I ask what happened to your parents?" Dhrel asked cautiously.

"I don't mind, but it's not a story I tell just anyone. But, since you will be my king after today I can make an exception," Sarthol answered.

"Lethian and I are adopted, most people don't know this. And we're not even really brothers," Sarthol explained

This made sense to Dhrel, they looked nothing alike.

"Our mother wanted children but our father wasn't able to give her any. So they adopted me when I was five and a few years later a tragic accident left Lethian an orphan and they adopted him as a baby. I was about eight at the time." The look on Sarthol's face told Dhrel that this tale was not an easy one to tell.

"My mother loved us unconditionally and we were very happy for a while. Then when I was fifteen and Lethian was about seven, my mother died when some cattle were spooked and trampled her. My father, who never really payed any attention to us, started to drink. My mother was his whole life and we were reminders of what made her happy." The look on Sarthol's face turned from sadness to regret as he continued to speak.

"One night after a long night of drinking, I think Lethian was about sixteen at the time, my father came home in a particularly bad mood. Lethian, was going on and on to me about his new boyfriend when father came in. Now remember, this was a while ago, when being gay was not so commonplace. And my father was raised in a time where it was actually forbidden. So, he proceeded to yell at Lethian while I watched. My father called Lethian weak willed and told him that a gay son was never going to take over his farm. But Lethian was anything but weak willed. Lethian grew furious and yelled back at my father, saying mother would have approved. This my father couldn't handle and he beat Lethian so badly that I had to carry him to bed. Lethian got a few hits in but a sixteen year old kid was no match for a grown farmer."

Dhrel could see the discomfort growing in Sarthol's mannerisms and hear it in his voice as he continued.

"The next day as my father was walking home from the bar I confronted him. He told me I was weak willed to side with my gay brother and tried to beat me as well. I of course was not sixteen, a grown man at the time, so I knocked him around a few times until it was clear that he was beaten. As I started to walk away he yelled at me that he was going to beat Lethian every night until he started acting like an upstanding xeltheen and found a girl. I couldn't take anymore, I lost it. I picked him up and beat him to death. Not something I'm proud of but I couldn't let him hurt Lethian anymore. I never intended to kill him, he just wouldn't shut up about how he was going to change Lethian, even if he had to break every bone in his body."

Sarthol looked down, ashamed of what he had done.

"I've only ever told Lethian of this, everyone else thinks my father ran off somewhere, or maybe he fell into the river by our farm one night after drinking. You and Lethian are the only ones that know the truth. If you feel you need to bring this up to the authorities, well I guess you are the authorities now. But, I understand if I need to face punishment for this," Sarthol finished, still looking down in shame.

"I think this was a long time ago, when I wasn't king. Who knows, if someone had treated my sister that way I might have done the same thing," Dhrel responded.

"I doubt that," Sarthol said.

"You're right, I would have torn them apart with magic, I'm not much of a fighter," Dhrel said with a laugh hoping to ease the tension.

Sarthol looked up at Dhrel, his face a little less tortured. "Perhaps you would have."

Now Dhrel's mind was filled with confusion. If Sarthol cared for his brother this much he would not have poisoned him. Godrich didn't appear to have done it either. Who else was left that could have poisoned Lethian, and why? Dhrel couldn't think of anyone that would want to hurt Lethian. Watching everyone greet Lethian at the ceremony it was obvious that he was well liked, even by Godrich.

"It is time!" Lethian yelled over the crowd. Dhrel would have to consider these things later, he needed to concentrate on the Sharlok Trial for now.

"King Dhrel are you prepared for your trial?" Lethian asked in a loud voice.

"Yes, I am prepared," Dhrel responded in a similarly loud voice.

"Hunters," Lethian said as he motioned to the group of hunters. One of them stepped forward with a cup.

"King Dhrel, as is tradition, you will drink from the cup of the hunt before you face the Sharlok," Lethian said taking the cup from the hunter.

Dhrel stepped toward Lethian and held out his hand to take the cup.

Lethian leaned in and whispered in Dhrel's ear. "Don't worry, it's just a bunch of herbs and vegetables to give you energy. The hunters drink it a lot, it's more a formality than anything."

Dhrel grabbed the cup and placed it to his lips. It smelled horrible and as he drank it he realized it actually tasted worse than it smelled.

"Oh yes, it's disgusting as well, but it's good for you," Lethian joked, still whispering.

As soon as Dhrel drank the strange concoction he felt more energetic. He assumed it contained vera root, a natural source of caffeine used in many bar drinks to keep the patrons awake and ordering more.

Lethian turned and faced the crowd.

"Dhrel Tyrillias, son of Meelaranda and Lastian Tyrillias, has chosen to face off against the beast. Upon his victory, he will forever be known as King Dhrel," Lethian said in a loud commanding voice.

Dhrel thought his last name sounded weird. People didn't often refer to him using his last name. In Xanthan people generally didn't refer to anyone by last name. Perhaps it was because mostly everyone knew one another, there were not that many people after all. Also, Dhrel thought his last name might cause people to be fearful of him. It was, after all, the last name of Lascar and previously of Lucian. Two very well-known tyrants. There was also the connotation that the human lands were named Tyrillia, after Lucian.

Dhrel thought for a second about how self-centered his family was. Lucian named a country after himself and Lascar named a whole continent after himself.

Then Dhrel was snapped back to the present as he realized the crowd was all cheering, even Godrich could be seen clapping.

Lethian then turned and spoke quietly to Dhrel.

"Now, if you will step down into the pit," Lethian motioned to some steps leading down to a metal gate. "We can get started whenever you are ready."

Dhrel walked down and opened the gate, followed by one of the hunters. When the young king was inside the hunter closed the gate and spoke to him.

"If you are in trouble just yell, we will subdue the beast if need be," the hunter said with a bow.

Dhrel smiled at the hunter and returned the bow. As he bowed, he began to feel light headed. What was in that drink? His vision began to get blurry and the young king knew that someone had poisoned him. Perhaps the same person that had poisoned Lethian. Dhrel knew that he couldn't leave the pit, not yet. If he didn't face the Sharlok he would not be able to be king, no matter the circumstances.

Dhrel stepped out into the middle of the large pit and raised his hand to show that he was ready. The hunter that followed him to the gate then threw a ceremonial dagger that landed at the young king's feet. Dhrel was amazed that he hadn't staggered to the middle or fallen from the dizziness he was experiencing but this was important. He couldn't fail this.

The hunters at the other end of the pit raised the metal gate on the Sharlok's cage and the enormous beast cautiously walked out into the pit.

The Sharlok were not mistreated for this trial, in fact they were fed a feast before the trial. Xeltheen respected these enormous beasts and treated them like royalty, but Sharlok viewed people as competition so a Sharlok caged in with a person would definitely cause the beast to react violently.

When the Sharlok noticed Dhrel it bared its teeth and let out a vicious roar. Dhrel held his ground and yelled back at the creature. Dhrel wasn't sure if he was threatening the beast or letting it know that he was ready, but either way it seemed appropriate.

The crowd around the pit began to murmur, they had never heard of anyone yelling at a Sharlok. Even the hunters looked a bit concerned. What if this was viewed as a challenge and the Sharlok became more vicious because of it?

But, much to everyone's surprise, the Sharlok viewed this as a warning and lowered its head. With its head nearly to the ground it slowly walked up to Dhrel. A low growl could be heard coming from the tiger. The creature wasn't giving up, but it was afraid. It continued to get closer to Dhrel, occasionally sniffing the air, trying to figure out how much of a threat Dhrel was.

The tiger slowly raised its head as it got close enough to Dhrel that he could feel its breath. The young king began to copy the low growl coming from the beast. Dhrel lowered his head slightly to look directly into the tiger's eyes, but with the poison's effects growing stronger the young king felt off balance and fell to one knee. The tiger immediately took this as a sign of weakness and leapt at Dhrel. The young king rolled under the enormous tiger causing it to land a few feet away. His plan had failed, he figured he could intimidate the creature into submission but that was no longer an option. He would have to fight it.

The tiger quickly spun around to face Dhrel again, growling louder. Dhrel regained his balance, stood up and growled back at the tiger. The Sharlok lunged at Dhrel with one of its giant paws and Dhrel ducked under it, slamming his fist into the tiger's chest. The tiger yelled in pain as it toppled over before quickly regaining its footing.

"Use the dagger!" Lethian yelled, but Dhrel was determined not to kill the creature.

The young king again stood up and faced the tiger without a weapon. Since he was unable to intimidate the creature into submission Dhrel would have to go with his second option. Somehow he needed to knock out the tiger, this would prove much more difficult since the poison in his blood seemed to be gaining momentum.

Dhrel shook his head trying to clear his vision. Though the tiger was only about six feet in front of him, it appeared like a giant red blob. Thankfully Dhrel could still see movement, but the tiger itself might as well be a giant red rock. The young king darted his eyes back and forth, trying to catch some sign of movement. He was waiting for the tiger to make its next attack.

The tiger seemed to sense that something was wrong with Dhrel. It slowly walked sideways attempting to get behind the young king and catch him off guard but Dhrel shifted and continued to face the tiger as it circled. Realizing that this tactic was getting it nowhere, the tiger roared again in frustration, hoping it might scare the young king into making a mistake. Dhrel didn't budge, he held his ground and yelled back at the tiger.

The tiger grew impatient and leapt again for Dhrel, this time mouth first trying to grab the young king's throat. Dhrel noticed the motion and could almost make out the tiger's wide open mouth as it flew towards him. Time seemed to stop for the young king as the tiger continued towards him. Dhrel wondered if magic was against the rules, and if he subdued the tiger using magic they would probably just make him do it again. But, what did he have to lose? After all he was poisoned, that was cheating right there.

Dhrel's eyes lit up bright blue and he jumped a foot in the air as the tiger's jaws closed in on his throat. With as much force as he could manage, the young king thrust his fist into the tiger's large head, right between its eyes. The force threw Dhrel backward and the tiger downward. The crowd around the pit all gasped at once. Neither the tiger nor Dhrel was moving. After a few seconds of silence one of the hunters noticed that the Sharlok was breathing.

"Subdue the Sharlok! Put it back in the cage!" the hunter yelled to the rest. Within a few seconds five hunters dropped into the pit and surrounded the tiger. They threw ropes around its neck and waist. After a bit of struggling they managed to drag the enormous beast back into the cage and shut the gate.

When the tiger had been secured Lethian ran into the pit and straight to Dhrel. Lethian placed his hand on the young king's chest and then smiled as he yelled to the rest of the crowd. "He's alive, just unconscious!"

Dhrel opened his eyes when he heard Lethian's voice.

"I've been poisoned. Not sure what kind. Must be in the cup," Dhrel mumbled quietly to Lethian.

Dhrel's body was beginning to overcome the poison, his eyes still glowing bright blue. He turned his head to look at the cup. Dhrel noticed Godrich acting nervously as he was standing next to the cup. Then, much to the young king's surprise, the councilman dumped the cup all over the ground before placing it back on the table. Dhrel's foggy head was clearing. Did Godrich really just dump all of the evidence? He braced himself on the pit wall and got to his feet. He searched the crowd near the cup but Godrich was gone. Then the young king noticed the look on Sarthol's face. Lethian's brother was looking far off into the distance and seemed concerned, but the concern wasn't for Dhrel. As soon as Sarthol realized that Dhrel was staring at him he began smiling, trying to appear happy that his king was alive and well.

"Cheers to King Dhrel!" Sarthol shouted and the crowd joined in.

Sarthol then disappeared into the cheering crowd as well.

Dhrel's head was now even clearer, had he imagined Sarthol's reaction? Was it just the poison messing with his head? Why did Godrich try to poison him?

"Did you see Godrich by the cup?" Dhrel asked Lethian as they walked across the pit to the gate.

"No, are you sure it was Godrich?" Lethian asked in response. "For now let's get you back to the council chambers. Godrich is probably there. We can find out what's going on."

"Alright, but the poison is almost gone now," Dhrel said trying to reassure Lethian.

"I figured as much. Remember I knew your father," Lethian responded with a grin. "The glowing eyes and all, figured your body was burning it off."

"Ah, that explains why you're not freaking out and yelling for a doctor," Dhrel laughed.

"Indeed," Lethian responded, placing his arm across Dhrel's shoulders. "I wasn't worried as soon as I saw your eyes. Although, Lastian's were always red."

Dhrel had no explanation for the difference in eye color, so he just put his hand on Lethian's shoulder and replied. "Indeed."

# Chapter 19

Dhrel and Lethian arrived back at the council chambers, followed by the rest of the council except Godrich. They searched the council chambers and the debate room, but Godrich was nowhere to be found.

"We need to find Godrich. Where is his house?" Dhrel asked hurriedly.

"Are you sure it was him?" Lethian asked in response.

"No, but he's missing. If it wasn't him, where did he go?" Dhrel was getting a bad feeling that something more was going on here. Either Godrich was a really good actor or someone else poisoned Lethian. The two poisonings were seeming less like a coincidence and more like a conspiracy the more Dhrel thought about them.

"Follow me, let's find Godrich and I'm sure he can clear this up," Lethian responded and quickly walked out the council chamber doors.

As they walked toward one of the council houses Dhrel thought about everything that had happened. Lethian's unwavering confidence in Godrich. Godrich bringing tea to Lethian every day while he was poisoned. Dhrel was beginning to understand.

"Godrich is your secret boyfriend, isn't he?" Dhrel asked.

"Yes," Lethian replied. "So, you see, it is very unlikely that he poisoned me."

"I think I'm starting to understand what's going on here," Dhrel said deep in thought.

"Good, because I have no idea what's going on," Lethian responded in exasperation. Lethian waited, but Dhrel didn't say anything else.

"Are you going to fill me in on this revelation?" Lethian asked. Lethian seemed desperate, he didn't want his boyfriend to be the one responsible for an assassination attempt on the new king.

"Not yet, there's still one thing I need to figure out. Perhaps Godrich has the answer. If so, your boyfriend is nothing more than a pawn, a scape goat, in a much bigger plan," Dhrel answered, still staring at his feet, deep in thought.

When they arrived at Godrich's house Lethian opened the door and walked in. It was clear to Dhrel that Lethian was comfortable here. How long had their secret relationship been going on? And why didn't Lethian want this information made public? Dhrel really hoped that Lethian had nothing to do with this plot, but paranoia was his constant state of mind these days. The young king couldn't afford to trust anyone unconditionally except for Kriista.

"He will be upstairs, the third floor. In his private study," Lethian said as he walked to the winding staircase.

Dhrel was amazed at how much the house looked similar to his own. Except for decorations and furnishings, the young king would have thought that it was his house.

Upon reaching the top floor, Lethian walked to the door at the end of the hall. In Dhrel's house this was the room he had chosen for his bedroom. It was strategically the best choice. Any intruders would have to walk all the way through the house before getting to his room. Dhrel had set up innocent looking traps all through the house so that anyone trying to get to his bedroom, while he slept, would surely make a mistake and topple books or metal pans and vases. But in Godrich's house there were no traps, the hall was almost completely bare except for a few pictures.

Lethian knocked softly and then, without waiting for an answer, opened the door to the room.

"Godrich, what are you doing?" Lethian exclaimed.

Dhrel stepped into the doorway and saw what had caused Lethian's surprise. Godrich was hurriedly packing.

"You're not supposed to be here," Godrich responded, his eyes wide with fear.

"What are you doing!?" This time Lethian's question was more emphatic.

"I need to leave, you weren't supposed to be involved. Please, just go," Godrich replied.

It was then that Godrich noticed Dhrel standing in the doorway.

"This is all your fault! Why did you have to come back!?" Godrich yelled angrily at Dhrel.

"How is this my fault?" Dhrel asked calmly.

"Your family causes nothing but death. I was told I needed to poison you or they would kill Lethian," Godrich said, still frantically packing items from his desk into a large sack. "Now leave me alone! If they see you here, they might just kill us both."

"Who are they?" Dhrel asked. Although he was fairly certain he knew who was behind this, the young king wanted to hear it from Godrich.

"Sar..." Godrich stopped, still staring at Dhrel. He wasn't moving and quickly his face began to turn pale. In a few seconds Godrich's lips began to turn blue and Lethian got worried.

"Godrich, what's wrong?" Lethian said as he took a step toward Godrich.

When Godrich began to fall forward Dhrel saw the arrow sticking out of Godrich's back and he smelled the poison. It was not just any poison. It was swamp spider venom. One of the most deadly poisons in the world. It could paralyze a man in an instant and kill him in seconds. There was no cure for this poison because there wasn't time to administer it. The victim would be dead before anyone knew why he had died. Dhrel quickly realized that the arrow had to have come from the open window behind Godrich.

Without hesitation Dhrel stepped in between the window and Lethian just as another arrow came flying through it. Dhrel caught the arrow in his hand but the blades on the arrow tip broke the skin. The poison wasn't as quick with Dhrel as it was with Godrich. Dhrel began to feel like he couldn't move and then he couldn't breathe. Dhrel stood there and the seconds seemed like hours.

Out the window Dhrel could see a hooded man with a bow. The hooded man was standing on a tree branch sticking out from a very large tree. As Dhrel watched, unable to move, the man removed his hood. It was Sarthol. Sarthol then smiled and waved at Dhrel before jumping. Dhrel was beginning to lose consciousness but before he did, he wondered how a normal man could jump three stories to the ground. Sarthol couldn't be a normal man. Then everything went black.

When Dhrel awoke his vision was foggy. As he got his bearings he was sure he was in Lethian's house. Every muscle in his body hurt, his head hurt and every time he breathed in it was like a horse was standing on his chest.

"Leth..." Dhrel tried to speak but after the first syllable it was dead air. Even his voice box hurt.

"Dhrel!?" Lethian yelled from what the young king guessed was the kitchen. "Are you awake?"

"Yessss." The sound that came out of Dhrel's mouth sounded more like a hiss than a word. Dhrel tried to sit up but his muscles weren't ready for movement yet.

Lethian came rushing into the room with a glass in his hand.

"No no, don't move yet," Lethian said as he put his hand under Dhrel's head. "Drink this, I hope it helps." Lethian put the glass up to Dhrel's lips as he held his head.

"I'm not sure what kind of poison that was but rola seems to help all kinds. I know it's disgusting but it should help," Lethian continued as he slowly tipped the glass up.

In truth Dhrel thought the rola fruit juice was quite pleasant. Considering all the things he had eaten in the swamp and in the desert with Kriista, this was actually pretty good. It had a musky taste to it like a musk melon only stronger yet at the same time it was much sweeter. He could understand why Lethian found this fruit so distasteful, most xeltheen ate bland foods without much flavor. Dhrel actually found xeltheen cuisine quite boring, even the fancy dishes served to royalty. He often found himself spicing up foods with tora peppers when no one was watching, something he learned from Draylen and Shye when he was younger.

"It," Dhrel tried to speak but his body was still not cooperating. "It was swamp spider venom." What came out was more a whisper than Dhrel had intended but Lethian understood.

"That would make sense," Lethian said looking down at the floor.

"How long was I out?" Dhrel asked, his voice gaining some power as he spoke.

"About a week." Lethian's expression turned to sadness. "We buried Godrich yesterday. I'm so sorry for everything. This is all my fault. I should have seen something. I was blind to what was happening. Maybe I didn't want to see it."

"It's not your fault. Lascar chose people close to you, people you trusted. He knew you would be the one to figure this out if he didn't." Dhrel slowly and painfully sat up. "I'm sorry. I got you involved in this."

"You did not," Lethian protested. His face was less sad and more angry now. "Lascar did this. I deluded myself into thinking this was a political squabble, but it's not. This is a war for our freedom. In war there are casualties. I will not be so naïve anymore."

"So, did Lascar use me against my brother also?" Lethian asked.

"No, sadly I don't think so," Dhrel responded.

"Then why is Sarthol helping Lascar?" Lethian seemed very confused.

Dhrel wasn't sure how to explain it but Lethian needed to hear the truth. If he was going to keep Lethian safe, the foreperson needed to know what was really going on.

"Sarthol was not what he seemed. He jumped from the tree outside Godrich's window after shooting us." Dhrel paused for a second trying to figure out how to say what he had to say.

"What? Sarthol shot Godrich? And you?" Lethian asked. Apparently Lethian had realized it was Sarthol that poisoned him, but everything must have happened to fast for Lethian to see Sarthol out the window.

"Yes, and then Sarthol jumped from the tree outside Godrich's window. He's not xeltheen. He's like me," Dhrel explained.

Lethian's face was filled with horror. He was realizing that the conspiracy was much larger than he had originally thought. Not only was Sarthol helping Lascar, but Sarthol was helping Lascar willingly.

"So is Sarthol related to you?" Lethian asked, trying to wrap his mind around everything he was beginning to understand.

"I think so," Dhrel responded.

"Then he was also related to Lastian," Lethian said deep in thought. "Why did I not see this sooner? He was always so much stronger than me, so much faster, than anyone."

"He told me about killing your father..." Dhrel began but Lethian quickly interrupted.

"He killed father?" Lethian asked.

"Sarthol told me you knew. It was right after your father beat you, when he found out you were gay," Dhrel answered.

"Father knew I was gay, since before mother died, he didn't care." Lethian paused for a second, trying to find the right words. "And he never beat me, he was never anything but kind to me," Lethian explained.

"But Sarthol told me he was a mean drunk after your mother died?" Dhrel questioned.

"No, father only drank once a year. Each year, on their wedding anniversary he would go to the town tavern and have a few drinks with some of their friends in remembrance of my mother. It was sort of a celebration of her life. The night he died was on one of those nights. I was told that he fell in the river and drowned because he had a few too many that night."

Lethian got a concerned look on his face as he spoke. Almost as if he remembered something that didn't quite fit.

"What is it?" Dhrel asked kindly.

"Father was never fond of Sarthol. He thought Sarthol was too cruel to the cattle and the workers on the farm. He wanted me to take over the farm but I never had any interest in cattle. I did hear Sarthol arguing with father a few times the week before father died. I didn't catch all of it but it was something about father blaming Sarthol for the cattle stampede that killed mother. At the time I thought father was wrong, but maybe Sarthol did cause mother's death as well."

Lethian's concerned look quickly changed to one of sadness.

"Sarthol was always so kind to me. It's hard to imagine that he killed mother and father." Lethian then went silent.

Dhrel wasn't about to go into details about how Sarthol described beating his father to death. Lethian was in enough pain as it was.

"Well, we don't know the whole story, but you need to be careful. Lascar is fighting a dirty war. He doesn't care who gets hurt or who dies. When I leave you will need to choose your confidants carefully. Only tell people what they need to know," Dhrel explained.

"Yes, it's obvious to me now. This war is just starting," Lethian said as he hung his head.

Dhrel wasn't sure if Lethian was sad about Sarthol, Godrich or possibly all of it. Nevertheless Dhrel was certain that Lethian was someone he could trust. He did have an ally, maybe he couldn't trust Lethian as unconditionally as he trusted Kriista, however Lethian was definitely an ally.

One thing still didn't make sense to Dhrel. Why had Sarthol concocted the strange story about their father? There was no reason to make up such an involved story. It actually reminded Dhrel of Lascar. Lascar would have made up a strange story to confuse his opponent. Perhaps Sarthol made up the story just to see if he could. The only thing about Sarthol that Dhrel was certain of was that he was an enemy.

# Chapter 20

Kriista sat in Lascar's room completely frustrated. She had found the door to the hidden study, Lascar's evil lair, she often thought. But the door was sealed. She was embarrassed that she had never seen it before. It wasn't well hidden, only a wall tapestry covered the door, and not very well either. The door had no handle, just a simple outline on the wall where the bricks didn't quite line up, but no amount of pushing or beating on it would open it. The draelic queen had even tried to break it down with a sledge hammer but this only destroyed the hammer and made her more frustrated. The door must be magically sealed. This meant Kriista would have to wait for her brother to arrive before she could see what was inside.

Beating on the door and the walls around it had become a daily ritual for Kriista in the month since she found it. She didn't hold out much hope that she could get in, but she had to try. It might be another month or more before Dhrel returned to Stone's Rest. If he wasn't able to convince the council to do his ceremony immediately he would have to wait until his actual birthday, which was still two months away.

Dejected and angry, Kriista left Lascar's room. She would try again tomorrow, but today she needed to focus on the ceremony. It was the anniversary of Kriista's marriage to Elyse, not the exact day, but the day her people chose to celebrate it. This holiday had previously been called The Day of Forgiveness. A day when all the prisoners would be brought out into the courtyard and the ruler of Norzen would choose one or more of them to pardon based on their good behavior and willingness to atone for their crimes.

Elyse's Mercy, as the draelic had renamed this holiday, was one of the country's most beloved. It was a day of redemption, forgiveness and rebirth for some hard working prisoner or prisoners. This was a day of hope for many people. A day that their ruler would take pity on some poor soul that had learned the error of their ways.

Kriista dressed herself in her finest uniform. In fact, she only had one, the one she wore to Elyse's release ceremony last year. Being the queen, she could dress how she liked, all her old general's uniforms had been given away the moment she became queen. How Kriista hated dressing up, but she had kept her finest uniform for days like this. Days when looking the part of the queen was just as important as being the queen.

After about an hour of fussing and fidgeting with her uniform and hair, Kriista headed out to the courtyard where the ceremony was all set up. The stage had once again been placed on one end of the courtyard facing the crowd, with her throne directly in the middle of the stage. This time there was no spouse's chair, only a chair for Grulek, the prime minister, and the lead general, Iris.

Iris had done a wonderful job as lead general. Kriista was surprised at how the shy, quiet, blue draelic had overcome all of this to become a very commanding and respected general. Although Kriista didn't consider herself prejudice, she did fall into the same bad habits as the rest of Norzen. Blue draelic were considered weaker and less able than purple draelic. Perhaps she was a bit prejudice after all. Something she intended to change. She needed to show all of Norzen that she supported Iris, not because of her skin color, not despite her skin color, but because Iris was the right draelic for lead general.

Kriista looked out at the crowd as she took her seat. There were many xeltheen in the crowd. A sight that she would have found impossible only a year ago. Some of the xeltheen were sitting alongside draelic, laughing and joking. If their prejudice for xeltheen could be squashed so easily, maybe the prejudice for blue draelic wouldn't be so hard after all.

Grulek was visible on the side of the stage, he was leaned in closely talking to Iris. Kriista could hear them, though she tried not to. She didn't want to intrude, but her hearing was far better than normal draelic. In fact, if she concentrated she could pick out a single conversation in the crowd across the large courtyard and hear exactly what they were saying.

"Do you think queen Kriista will mind?" Iris asked sheepishly.

"I know it's Elyse's day, but honestly queen Kriista is not like her father. We need to be straight forward with her and ask her permission. If she says yes, then we can announce it," Grulek said trying to calm Iris.

Kriista knew exactly what they were talking about. It was no secret that Grulek and Iris had been seeing each other. It was also no secret that they planned to be married. Kriista thought today was the perfect day for them to announce their marriage. She understood Iris's misgivings. It was bad form for two generals to be romantically involved, but Kriista and Elyse had done the exact same thing, although theirs had to be kept secret to avoid Lascar's wrath.

Grulek walked up to his chair, saluted Kriista and sat beside her. Iris followed the overly large draelic and saluted Kriista as well. To Kriista's surprise it was Iris that asked.

"Queen Kriista, do you mind if I speak to you?" the small blue draelic asked almost shaking in fear.

"You have no reason to be afraid Iris. I think I know what you are going to ask," Kriista said trying to calm the overly nervous young woman.

"Yes, umm, would you mind, umm, would it be possible..." Iris struggled to find the right words. "Grulek and I would like to announce our marriage, if that is alright with you."

Kriista smiled at the small blue draelic. Iris seemed to get more nervous.

"That would be a wonderful idea. Elyse's day should be happy," Kriista again tried to calm the nervous young woman, but this seemed to be a constant state for Iris.

"I, of course, would renounce my seat as lead general. I don't..." Kriista cut Iris off before she could finish.

"No," Kriista said firmly, almost causing the small blue draelic woman to jump out of her skin. "You will keep your station. I need you, the people need you." Kriista tried to calm her voice as soon as she realized she was only making Iris worse. "There hasn't been a lead that commanded this much respect since Elyse, as far as I know. Please reconsider."

"What about Irel?" Iris asked.

"Irel was never lead general, she was my fourth. But yes, your leadership does remind me of hers. You lead with respect not fear. People do what you command because they want to impress you, not because they are afraid of you," Kriista explained. She could see Iris physically calming down.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, my queen. I will keep my position," Iris relented.

Iris then went to her seat beside Grulek and sneakily slid her hand under his. Iris was a very nervous person, having Grulek's hand on hers, kept her calm.

Out of the corner of her eye Kriista noticed a hooded man, moving suspiciously in the crowd. When she turned her head to get a better look, the hooded man was gone. Somehow the man seemed familiar. The way he walked, his stance. Maybe she was just imagining things. She had grown a bit paranoid lately. With Dhrel gone she didn't know who she could trust. Grulek she trusted, Iris she also trusted, perhaps even Irel, but everyone else was suspect. Dhrel had become her test for people's intentions. If Dhrel thought they were suspicious, then Kriista did as well. It was very hard to do this without her brother and she hoped he would return soon.

The fourth general ceremoniously walked up to the stage. Kriista didn't know this woman, but assumed that Iris had replaced all the high ranking generals in order to keep Elyse's plan of reconstruction running smoothly.

"It is time to start. If you are ready, my queen," the general said as she saluted.

Kriista stood up, saluted in return, then walked to the front of the stage.

The crowd was still very loud and boisterous. It was doubtful that anyone would hear her and at the same time she didn't want her people to think she was like Lascar so she opted to let Grulek quiet them.

"Grulek, can you please?" Kriista asked politely.

Grulek stood and walked up beside Kriista. His enormous frame dwarfed Kriista, it was almost as striking as seeing him beside his future wife.

"Attention! Queen Kriista wishes to address you!" Grulek yelled then saluted Kriista before returning to his seat.

The crowd quickly quieted down. Over the past months, nearly a year, Grulek had proven himself to be a good prime minister. He had the respect of many of the generals, and he certainly had the respect of the people. It was, after all, Grulek who started the work on Elyse's plan to rebuild Norzen, to resurrect the farms. A plan which the prime minister still took very seriously. Kriista had gotten several letters from farmers who told tales of how the prime minister himself helped them replow and plant their fields that spring. This didn't surprise Kriista, it only reinforced what she already knew. Grulek was the perfect prime minister.

"Thank you, and welcome to the first Elyse's Mercy celebration," Kriista said in a loud voice. "I say it's the first because this holiday will not just be a chance to pardon reformed prisoners. It will now also be a celebration of Elyse's legacy. Her compassion and love for our land." Kriista paused and put her hands behind her back.

"It is harvest time now. A harvest that would not be possible without the plan that Elyse put in to motion. She had a dream to make our land prosperous again and today is the first harvest achieved with that plan and your hard work. You will tell your children and grandchildren about the first ever Elyse's Mercy celebration. You will probably bore them time and again with your tales of how this land was once barren until one intelligent queen decided to make a plan. Your children and grandchildren will scarcely believe that our country was once unable to produce food, but you will tell them and they will roll their eyes as you recount this very day." This caused the crowd to laugh and Kriista smiled at them.

"Not only should you be proud of Elyse's plan, you should be proud of yourselves for believing in it. Your prime minister, Grulek..." As Grulek's name was called the crowd began cheering briefly. "Grulek has helped nearly all of you to realize your farm's potential but I think you need to give a round of applause to yourself. Grulek did not do this by himself. Without your hard work, none of this would be possible. You should be proud of yourselves most of all. You did this. We simply provided guidance and help where needed."

When they were sure the queen was finished, the crowd erupted with applause.

After a few moments of cheering, Kriista held up her hand to silence the crowd.

"Now please bring out the prisoners," Kriista said motioning to the prison guards.

Kriista stepped down from the stage and moved to the middle of the large courtyard. After a few minutes the prison guards returned with five people, one of them the general who tried to assassinate Elyse. Kriista was a bit shocked that this general was one of the repentant prisoners she was about to question.

When the general was in front of Kriista she spoke.

"I don't think you know my name. I am Ratha. I am very sorry for the part I played in the attempt on Elyse's life and I'm very sorry that she is gone," Ratha said as she placed her fist to her chin. Her wrists were still shackled so it was not an easy task. "I realize that Lascar was just using me. Over the past year I have also realized that you are not like your father. You care about these people. I made a mistake, and would like to offer myself to work the farms. I know I will never be allowed to be a general again, but please let me help the farmers."

Kriista was surprised by this. Ratha actually seemed sincere about her offer to work the farms. Her apology did not seem rehearsed and she actually seemed to be accepting of her fate.

"And what of you four?" Kriista said looking at the four men behind Ratha.

"Their only crime was following me. They are the soldiers who fought with me. They also would like a chance to work the farms and repay their debts," Ratha said for the four men.

"Is this true?" Kriista asked.

All four men either said yes or nodded their heads. Judging from their voices and movements, they were embarrassed that they had anything to do with Elyse's attempted assassination. This was exactly the type of prisoner that should be pardoned on Elyse's Mercy. In a way, Kriista thought Elyse would have been the first to advocate for their pardon.

Kriista motioned for the prison guards to remove their shackles. If this was some type of rouse, it would be better for them to try something while she was there. But instead of attacking, all five of them raised their fists and saluted Kriista.

"Thank you, my queen," Ratha said as she lowered her eyes to the ground. "I will do my best to help feed this country. We all will."

Kriista noticed the hooded man again, he was moving through the crowd. As Kriista moved her head to get a better look at him, he vanished once more. She felt nervous, like something was gonna happen.

"There is a hooded man in the crowd, can you go see what he's up to," Kriista whispered to the head prison guard. She hoped it was nothing, but there was no reason not to have the guards check on him.

The guard nodded and motioned to the other three guards, who followed him into the crowd.

When the guards were no longer visible, engulfed in the crowd, Kriista turned to Ratha.

"Please follow me to the stage."

Ratha and the four men followed and took their place beside Kriista. Kriista motioned for Grulek and Iris to step forward. It was almost time for them to announce their marriage.

"In honor of Elyse's Mercy I am happy to announce that these five prisoners have shown remorse and a willingness to repay society for their crimes. I grant them pardon with the condition that they work the farms for no less than two years. None of them are allowed to work in the Norzen army but for all intents and purposes they are free," Kriista said loudly so the crowd could hear.

"Now," Kriista said as she walked between Grulek and Iris. "As you all know, Elyse's Mercy is a time for celebration. In that spirit Iris has an announcement."

In draelic society it was improper for the man to announce the marriage. The woman was expected to announce it to everyone.

"Grulek and I will be married," Iris said with more confidence than Kriista would have imagined. Perhaps she was only nervous talking to her superiors. Iris had no problem talking to her soldiers or common citizens.

Iris held out the huge ring, big enough to fit on Grulek's large finger.

"Grulek will you be my husband?" Iris asked ceremoniously.

"Yes!" Grulek said with more enthusiasm than Kriista had ever seen from the large draelic man.

"According to draelic tradition, you are henceforth man and wife," Kriista said taking their hands and joining them before letting go.

Kriista heard the arrow leave the bow, she heard the whistle as the feathers cut through the air. She searched the courtyard, hoping to glimpse the arrow and catch it before it hit its mark but she couldn't see it.

Ratha jumped at Grulek holding her arms out wide facing him. As Grulek caught the woman an arrow landed on Ratha's shoulder blade, piercing all the way through and into Grulek's chest. The momentum of Ratha jumping broke the arrow head off but it wasn't deep enough in Grulek's chest to cause much injury. Ratha's body caused the arrow to miss its mark and it hit him in the right side of his chest instead of dead center. The surprise and the arrow knocked Grulek off balance and he fell backward still holding Ratha.

Kriista saw the hooded man again, standing beside the crowd. The guards Kriista had sent after him were laying at the man's feet. The hooded man had the bow in his hand that had fired the arrow. As he turned to run Kriista saw his face. It was Zorlen, but she had killed Zorlen! How was this possible?! Kriista bent down beside Ratha and Grulek.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll live," Grulek reassured her.

"How did you know?" Kriista asked Ratha suspiciously.

"I saw him aiming at Grulek, I wasn't about to let some assassin ruin my chance at redemption," Ratha said with honesty. "I don't care if he is a man, he is my chance for freedom."

That was enough for Kriista, she quickly leapt off the stage and ran after Zorlen, or whoever was trying to pose as Zorlen.

Zorlen had made it out of the courtyard and out of the city before Kriista began catching up to him. Zorlen was fast but Kriista caught up to him in a field that had been mostly harvested. He had almost made it to another farm that was growing nut trees before Kriista finally got close to him. She stuck out one of her feet and tripped Zorlen who went head over heels, losing his bow in the process.

When Zorlen rose to face her, Kriista realized it really was Zorlen, not some imposter. How could he still be alive?

"Surprised?" Zorlen asked disdainfully.

"Yes, how are you still alive?" Kriista asked in response. She saw Zorlen reach for a short blade on his belt and she ducked as he swung.

"I'm like you I think," Zorlen spat at her. Zorlen removed his second short blade from his belt and thrusted both at Kriista's abdomen.

Kriista dodged again and grabbed both of Zorlen's wrists. She squeezed with such force that the bones in his wrist cracked as she threw him over her head. Zorlen instinctively released the blades as the pain in his wrists became unbearable. Kriista bent over to pick up the lost blades as Zorlen took off again, running full speed at the nut farm. Zorlen knew that if he could just make it to the trees he could lose Kriista.

Another hooded figure, taller and more muscular, jumped out of the trees right in front of Zorlen. Zorlen spun on his heels and tried to do a spin kick to the man's head, but the hooded figure held out his hand and caught Zorlen's foot. Zorlen fell to the ground with a thump.

"Calm down boy, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to rescue you from your own stupidity," the hooded man said.

"What? Who are you?" Zorlen asked quickly. Zorlen heard something familiar in the man's voice.

"It's me, your father. Lascar said you'd be here doing something stupid. I guess I should have come here first," the hooded man laughed as he removed his hood. Sarthol stood looking down at his son for a moment before he stepped over him to intercept Kriista.

"Run boy, you are no match for your cousin. You have much to learn," Sarthol said over his shoulder and Zorlen quickly stood up and ran for the trees. Sarthol looked much younger than Zorlen remembered, but it really was his father. He had so many questions. How was he not dead? Where had he been? But these questions would have to wait. His father was correct, Zorlen had underestimated Kriista again, he was no match for her.

Sarthol stood ready to fight Kriista, blocking her way. Kriista had no choice but to stop as she met Sarthol at the edge of the field.

"Out of my way, that man is an assassin!" Kriista yelled at Sarthol.

"Now now, let's not be harsh. He didn't actually kill anyone," Sarthol said slyly.

Kriista tried to shift to the left to get by him but Sarthol blocked her way again.

"Move!" Kriista yelled, becoming angry. "I won't ask again!"

"Well, to be honest you haven't asked me anything," Sarthol said.

"What?" Kriista asked, confused.

"Now that is a question," Sarthol smirked.

"Get out of my way!" Kriista yelled, frustrated as she tried to duck to the right this time. Sarthol again stepped in front of her.

"That, my dear, is a command, not a question," Sarthol replied. He had successfully stopped Kriista from chasing Zorlen. Now he was just having fun.

"Why are you stopping me from getting to Zorlen? What's he to you?" Kriista asked growing furious as she realized that Zorlen was probably gone by now.

"Well he is my son, and you are my niece, Dhrel is my nephew, Lascar is my father and Lastian my brother," Sarthol teased. "Hello, I'm your uncle Sarthol. And I think that about covers our family history lesson."

Sarthol stepped one foot forward and drew two short blades from his belt with one swift motion. Kriista jumped backward before the blades could hit her. She was thrown off guard by the admission from Sarthol but it wasn't going to be that easy to beat her in a fight.

"Whoa, I heard you were good. Impressive," Sarthol said still smirking.

Somehow Kriista got the impression that Sarthol was patronizing her.

Kriista's anger rose and she swung one of the blades she had stolen from Zorlen, narrowly missing Sarthol's head.

"Now now, no reason to be so snippy," Sarthol laughed. He was having too much fun with this, it was easy to make Kriista mad.

Sarthol thrust his left blade at Kriista's shoulder, then after she parried it he sunk the right blade into her leg.

"Ah ha, not so quick after all," Sarthol joked.

Kriista's eyes began to glow purple, she was so furious that she couldn't see straight.

"Now I see the family resemblance," Sarthol teased. "I mean the temper, not your eyes. Although that shade of purple accents your hair." Sarthol flipped backward, catching Kriista's chin with his foot.

Kriista quickly got her bearings and screamed as she ran at Sarthol. But Sarthol still wasn't taking Kriista seriously. Kriista swung the blade with all of her might, if she couldn't out maneuver him she would overpower him. Sarthol held out his blade to parry Kriista's blow but as the two swords connected they shattered. The momentum of Kriista's blow carried the hilt forward hitting Sarthol in the chest which sent him flying backward.

"Dang, you are strong. But that temper will be the death of you. Lucky for you Lascar said I can't kill you yet," Sarthol said as he turned and quickly ran for the trees after Zorlen.

As Sarthol reached the tree line he yelled back over his shoulder. "We should do this again, maybe next time I'll get to fight without this handicap."

Kriista sat there contemplating what just happened. By handicap she thought Sarthol was referring to Lascar's mandate that she not be killed. But she hadn't lost, she did overpower him in the end. If there was a next time she needed to do better. Sarthol was right about one thing, her anger could have gotten her killed. She was blinded by her anger, Sarthol could have killed her, or at least made a decent attempt at it.

Then as the adrenaline in her body subsided she realized, Sarthol was her uncle, Lastian's brother. Her family was larger than she thought and most of them wanted her dead. Well, maybe not dead right away, but they wanted something sinister from her. Why did they need her?

Kriista got up and started walking back to town. The stab wound in her leg was nearly healed, but it still hurt. There was no point in chasing them, it was two versus one, and she wasn't entirely sure she could stop them by herself. She needed Dhrel if she wanted any hope of stopping the two of them.

# Chapter 21

Sarthol finally caught up to Zorlen a few miles from where they had confronted Kriista. Zorlen was sitting on a large rock with his arms resting on his legs. The pain from where Kriista had broken his wrists was apparently still bothering him.

"I can show you how to heal faster," Sarthol said as he walked closer to Zorlen.

Zorlen jumped to his feet and reached for where his swords used to be, but then he remembered he had lost them to Kriista. The pain in his wrists had apparently made him oblivious to Sarthol's arrival. Normally Zorlen was very observant, but somehow Sarthol had snuck up on him.

"How can you be alive?" Zorlen asked, sitting back down.

"That's a long story, which I will tell you, but first you need to learn how to use your abilities," Sarthol said as he threw a small freshly cut tree branch at Zorlen's feet.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Zorlen asked with distain.

"Pick it up," Sarthol answered impatiently.

"Why?" his son asked defiantly.

"Just pick it up, you'll see," the rough xeltheen man said.

"Fine," the assassin said as he grabbed the small branch. "Now what?"

"Concentrate. Feel the energy in the branch and steal it," Sarthol commanded.

Zorlen could feel something, the branch felt different. Perhaps it was his father explaining what the feeling was or maybe because he was so tired and hurt that his body took over. Whatever the reason Zorlen could feel the energy now. The energy in the branch began to flow into his hands and the pain in his wrists lessened to a dull throb. Then the assassin looked at a tree next to him and put both hands squarely on the trunk. The tree began to wither and crack as Zorlen sucked all the life out of it. Soon the tree looked as though it had been dead for years.

"And now we have firewood as well," Sarthol said as he kicked the dead tree causing it to fall.

"Would have been nice to know that!" Zorlen said angrily. The assassin then turned to the tree and began pulling some of the smaller branches off to make a fire with.

"I guess it's time for that long story now," the rough xeltheen said as he sat beside the pile of sticks.

"I'd say so," Zorlen said as he angrily threw a large branch on the pile.

"Where do I start?" Sarthol asked rhetorically. "I guess I'll just start at the beginning."

Sarthol began rubbing a small stick between his hands while it was against the larger branch. Soon the friction caused smoke to rise from the branch and then a small fire started. While Zorlen continued snapping branches and throwing them on the fire Sarthol continued his story.

"I am the second son of Lascar. Lastian was my older brother and I am about eight hundred years old. I never had any quarrel with my brother, but Lascar was a different story. He required obedience from his sons, something I'm not good at."

"When I was about a hundred, give or take, I met a beautiful druid girl. Of course, we fell in love and ran off to get away from Lascar. We had a beautiful baby girl and named her Raylee. We were happy for several years, but eventually he found us and killed my wife. He let me keep my daughter, because she had no magic, on the condition that we live in Stone's Rest with him. I agreed and we lived with him for a hundred years or so before I realized that my daughter was just like me."

"Raylee had found a young mage and she ran off with him. It took Lascar several years but he eventually tracked them down. Raylee had given birth to a boy in the time she was gone. The boy was about six months old. I was given a choice. Either I distract Raylee while Lascar killed her husband or he would kill them all. I didn't see a choice, I loved Raylee more than anything. So I showed up on her doorstep and told her we needed to speak privately. We took a walk in the woods near her house, but it didn't take long before she got suspicious."

"Raylee ran back to the house in time to see Lascar kill her family. I didn't know Lascar wanted to kill her son. Had I known that, I might have done things differently, but it was too late for that. When Lascar demanded she come back home, Raylee refused. He tried to stop her but Raylee was always very fast, even faster than me. She got out of the house before Lascar could subdue her, leaving a dagger in my chest as payment for my betrayal."

"What does that have to do with faking your death?" Zorlen interrupted angrily.

"You'll see, I'm not done yet," Sarthol said and then continued his story.

"I went back home with Lascar but I couldn't live with what I had done so I just disappeared. Not only did I have to hide from Lascar, I now also had to hide from Raylee. I've seen her a few times in Brizen and barely gotten away with my life, so I now stay in Lascaria. Near Lascar, whom she is afraid of, but hidden from him so he can't make me do anything like that again."

"To answer your question. I have to die and reinvent myself every thirty or forty years. I don't want to endanger my wives and before you ask. I have no other children than you and Raylee. I was hoping that you could live a normal life. Lascar knew nothing about you, or so I thought. So pretending to be dead was the best way to keep you from this life, from him."

"So why come back now?" Zorlen asked, still angry.

"Lascar has found you," Sarthol explained.

"Yeah, he tried to kill me. Well, have Kriista kill me," Zorlen said with contempt.

"Ha! He didn't try to kill you. It's much worse than that," Sarthol said emphatically. "That was a test, he just wanted to make sure it was you. If he was trying to kill you he would have assumed you dead and moved on. But, he knows who you are, and that's why I'm here."

"Why?" Zorlen asked confused about the whole thing.

"Because he knows where you are and who you are. He has plans for you. If I don't help you escape you will end up dead or worse," the rough xeltheen replied.

"Worse? What's worse than death?" Zorlen was getting more confused by the second.

"Believe me, Lascar has fates worse than death for people who disobey him. I should know, part of my penance for having Raylee was twenty years in his dungeon. I don't want to see that happen to you." The look on Sarthol's face told Zorlen that his father was not exaggerating, Lascar's dungeon was much worse than death.

Zorlen sat for a moment thinking about everything his father had said. Most of it just made him angry, but the parts about Lascar didn't. He knew perfectly well what kind of person Lascar was before signing up to help him track Dhrel. Zorlen wanted to be like Lascar, powerful and unafraid. He had been angry at Lascar for sending him to his death, but now that he knew it was only a test Zorlen had more respect for Lascar. It was quite a clever rouse, something he himself might have tried if the roles were reversed.

The more Zorlen thought about it, about Raylee and her child. About Sarthol's betrayal and punishment. The more Zorlen respected Lascar. Sarthol and Raylee deserved their punishments, they disobeyed. Lascar's punishments fit the crime, as far as Zorlen was concerned. He wasn't about to tell his father this, the old man wouldn't understand. The assassin wasn't sure he could ever forgive his father for pretending to be dead, but Lascar had never done anything like that to him. Lascar valued him, perhaps even respected him a little.

"So what's the plan...'Dad'?" Zorlen asked.

Sarthol could tell by the way Zorlen said Dad that his son was not happy with his explanation. The rough xeltheen would just have to try harder to win back his son's approval.

"Well, Lascar has given us a mission. But don't worry. As soon as we find a chance we will leave. Hide, like I have for years. I can show you how. We just have to complete a few things for him and he will lose interest in us, for a while." Sarthol could see the displeasure on his son's face, but he assumed it was because they had to serve Lascar.

In truth Zorlen's displeased look was because of his father. He thought Sarthol was spineless. How could his own father be so weak? The assassin had respected and loved his father before his apparent death. But now, all he could see when he looked at Sarthol was a coward.

"What's our mission?" Zorlen asked, trying to stop thinking of his cowardly father's deeds.

"We must 'convince' Dhrel and Kriista to go to Brizen, and quickly," Sarthol explained.

"We know where Kriista is, what about Dhrel?" Zorlen asked in response.

"Don't worry, Dhrel will be here in Norzen very soon. I made sure he would want to come," Sarthol said with self-satisfaction.

Sarthol's conceited look only made Zorlen loathe his father more. If Sarthol was going to be disobedient to Lascar, he could have at least stuck with it. If he loved Raylee that much why did he not just warn her? Give her a chance to leave with her family. Sarthol didn't even have enough courage to follow his own convictions. The more Zorlen thought about his father the more convinced he was that his father was simply a coward. Always choosing the easiest path, even when it meant sacrificing his own ideals. This reminded Zorlen of something his father had once said. 'A man who only thinks of himself will die with no one by his side.' Maybe Sarthol hadn't realized he was describing himself. Either way, Zorlen's displeasure with his father was quickly turning to hatred.

# Chapter 22

After Dhrel's recovery he was eager to meet up with his sister in Norzen. Lethian provided Dhrel with his fastest horse and swore to his new king that he would do his best to keep Xanthan running smoothly while he was away. Content that he had left Xanthan in good hands Dhrel sped to Norzen hoping to warn his sister about Sarthol.

When Dhrel arrived Kriista told him all about her encounter with Sarthol and Zorlen. Explaining to Dhrel that Sarthol was in fact their uncle and Zorlen their cousin. Dhrel in turn told his sister about his encounter with Sarthol and how he had tried to destroy the Xanthan leadership.

"Actually, I figured he was part of our family. But Zorlen, that I didn't see coming," Dhrel stated matter-of-factly. The new king was still quite angry that Zorlen had killed his grandfather Draylen.

"I know you would like to track down Zorlen but we have more important things to deal with right now," Kriista said trying to both comfort and focus her brother.

"Yes, did you find the study?" Dhrel asked trying to put Zorlen out of his mind.

"Sorta, I did find it, but I can't seem to open it. It's sealed with magic I think." Kriista sounded disappointed, more with herself than anything.

"Let's take a look at this magical lock. I've gotten some of my magic back, maybe I can open it," Dhrel said trying to reassure his sister that she hadn't failed.

"Ok, it's in Lascar's room." Kriista motioned to her brother and then headed to the royal quarters. Dhrel followed closely behind her, hoping he wasn't overestimating his magic. While it was true he had gotten some of his magic back, he didn't feel as powerful as when Shye was alive. It was like she was half of his power. Without her his magic felt weak, like he was trying to run a race with a broken leg.

Kriista reached for the door when they arrived at Lascar's room but suddenly stopped motionless.

"What is it?" Dhrel asked in a whisper.

"Someone is inside," she responded in the same whispered tone.

"Guards maybe?" Dhrel hoped it was guards but deep down he knew it wasn't.

"No, none of my guards would be in my home without permission." Kriista slowly drew one of her swords as she quietly opened the door. The door opened silently and the draelic queen crept into the room without a sound.

"I don't see any switches," Zorlen said. Zorlen was on his hands and knees feeling the edge of the floor trying to find a way to open the study door.

"It's got to be here somewhere. Lascar wants his journal, they can't be allowed to find it," Sarthol said, also on his hands and knees searching the floor on the other side of the magically sealed door. Suddenly Sarthol stopped searching and held perfectly still. He sensed something or maybe he felt a breeze from the open door. Whatever the reason, he knew they were not alone.

Sarthol reached for his swords as Kriista lunged at him. The rough xeltheen man quickly spun around and parried the draelic queen's attack and sent her flying into the nearby wall, nearly colliding with Zorlen. Zorlen jumped to his feet and drew his new sword from the sheathe on his back, a long curved blade meant to be used with two hands. He swung downward at Kriista's head but Dhrel caught the blade with his bare hand. Dhrel's eyes were glowing, the bright blue illuminated the back corner of the room where Kriista had fallen.

"Run!" Sarthol yelled at his son as he sprinted for the open door. Zorlen hastily sheathed his sword and ran after his father.

Kriista looked up at her brother in amazement. She had only seen one other person stop a blade with their bare hands, Lastian.

"You become more like father every day, that's why Lascar is afraid of you," Kriista said as she held her hand up for Dhrel to help her. Dhrel grabbed her hand and smiled.

"Sometimes, when I least expect it, I can use it. But most of the time it's like the magic is just barely out of reach. Grom said it has a lot to do with emotions. I was scared that Zorlen was going to kill you. I didn't think about it, I just reacted," Dhrel said, now even more confused about his magic.

"You'll get it, Grom said it will take time to relearn it. Be patient," Kriista comforted.

"I suppose," Dhrel said while he looked at the open door. "Do you think they will be back? Should we call the guards?"

"Yes, they will be back and no, my guards can't handle them. I would be sending them on a suicide mission. It's best if we deal with those two," Kriista said, also looking at the open door.

Kriista had a point, 'normal' people had no business fighting their kind. It would be a suicide mission, just like she said.

"Well then, we better get this open before they come back then," Dhrel said pretending to crack his knuckles.

"Yes, that journal they mentioned. We need to find it first," the draelic queen responded.

Dhrel could see the outline of what looked like a door in the wall. There were no handles, no hinges and he could faintly see energy surrounding the door and the wall on either side.

"Yes, this is magically locked. I can see the energy around it. Let me see what I can do," the young king stated.

Dhrel put his palms against the door. If he could remember how it felt to remove the magic from Kriista's shackles maybe he could do it again. He pushed on the door trying to force the magic out, like he had before but nothing happened. The young king pulled his hands off the door, rubbed them together and put them back for another try. He pushed again, trying to displace the magic, but again nothing happened.

"Remember, your magic has changed. Grom said you have to find new ways to do things," Kriista reassured her brother.

Perhaps she had a point. Dhrel was trying to recreate the feeling when he removed Lascar's magic from the shackles. Maybe he needed to absorb the magic, like he did with the master. He was after all a 'magic sponge', as his sister put it.

"I'll try that, maybe I can absorb it," Dhrel said as he removed his hands, rubbed them together again and then placed them back on the door.

"Exactly, that's what..." Kriista stopped mid-sentence as the door began glowing bright red. The magic in the door was trying to fight Dhrel but the young king didn't fight back this time. He let the magic push while he pulled and the magic was absorbed into him.

The study door let out a hiss as stale air rushed by them and then swung inward. The room inside was completely dark with no windows. Even in the middle of the day there was no light coming in. Kriista grabbed a candle from Lascar's end table and lit it before walking inside the room.

Dhrel stood outside the door not quite sure he wanted to enter. What kind of secret evil did Lascar have hidden in here? Maybe the gruesome torture devices and old demonic tomes they had expected to find in Lascar's room were actually in this study.

"I'm not seeing any traps, it seems safe," Kriista said from the middle of the study.

Dhrel cautiously stepped inside the room searching the doorway for trip wires and other traps. As soon as Dhrel had both feet in the door all the candles on the walls of the room lit up at the same time. Dhrel and Kriista both jumped, startled by the sound of nearly one hundred candles all lighting at once.

"What was that?!" Kriista exclaimed.

"The room reacted to me, somehow," Dhrel answered, still not quite sure how it happened. He had felt a strange pull, like something drawing energy out of him as he entered. It wasn't a great deal of energy, just a small amount. Maybe the energy he took from the door reacted to the room? Maybe that was supposed to happen? You enter the room by taking the energy from the door and the energy then lights the room?

With the new light the two of them could see the room more clearly. The walls were not only covered with candles, but also by thousands of books on shelves. Dhrel skimmed through the titles as he went along. Most of the books seemed to be about magic, different styles and approaches to using magic. Some of the books looked quite old, perhaps from when Lascar was younger. But none of the books seemed to be a journal and none of them looked like they had been touched in centuries.

"This might be it," Kriista yelled from the far side of the room. She was standing beside a study desk and chair. Dhrel wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it before, after all it was the only desk in the entire room.

"A desk with one book on it, I'd say you're probably right," Dhrel teased.

"Yeah yeah, you didn't even notice it Mr. Smarty pants," Kriista teased back.

The draelic queen flipped through some of the pages, trying to find something of interest but the pages were blank.

"Umm, it's empty," Kriista said confused. "Or maybe it's like fathers book and only looks empty to me. You try." Kriista picked up the book and handed it to Dhrel. In Kriista's haste she had forgotten to look under the desk for traps. As soon as the weight of the book was off the table they heard a loud click and the door slammed shut and they could hear something that sounded like a heavy stone being moved into place and then a thud.

"I think I just trapped us in here," Kriista said almost laughing.

"How is that funny?" Dhrel asked not sure if his sister was all there.

"Oh come on! You don't find it a little funny?!" Kriista asked.

"Not that it matters anyway. This isn't going to keep us in here for long," Kriista said still smiling at her brother. "If it's magic, you will absorb it. If there's no magic, I'll just break through the wall. This room just trapped the wrong two people."

Now Dhrel understood why Kriista thought it was so funny. If anyone else had stumbled in here and done the exact same thing, they would probably be trapped here forever. Lascar's ingenious trap wouldn't be able to hold the two of them very long at all.

"Ok, yeah. It's a little funny," Dhrel relented.

"Well let me try first, if I bounce off the door and knock myself out it's your turn." Kriista's grin was so ridiculous that Dhrel couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't about to stop her now, even though he could plainly see the magic energy covering the door again.

Kriista took a few steps back, preparing herself for the collision and then ran full speed at the door. When Kriista collided with the door she was thrown back into one of the walls and books tumbled down on her, nearly covering her whole body.

Dhrel fell to the floor laughing, almost unable to breathe.

"Wait, you can see the magic on the door can't you?" Kriista asked, feigning anger.

"Of course I can, why didn't you ask that first?" Dhrel responded still trying to catch his breath.

"I... I... I didn't think about it, til just now," Kriista pouted. "Now if you're done picking on me, you mind opening the door?"

"Sure," Dhrel said as he walked over to the door and put both palms on it. He absorbed the energy just like before but afterward the door didn't move. Dhrel pushed on the door, kicked the door and even tried to smash it open with his shoulder, but it didn't move.

"Umm, you mind bashing this thing again? I think it's locked physically as well," Dhrel said hoping his sister wasn't really angry at him.

"Oh! Now you need the clumsy oaf's help, do you?" Kriista asked still pouting.

"I never called you that. It was just too funny to watch you bounce off the door like a rubber ball." Dhrel started to laugh again, but quickly stopped as he saw his sisters, obviously fake, angry look.

"Say you need my help..." Kriista teased.

"I need your help," Dhrel said looking downward, pretending to be ashamed.

As soon as Dhrel was finished faking his reluctant confession Kriista leapt to her feet and threw books all over the floor. She took her stance again and ran at the door full speed. When the draelic queen collided with the stone door it exploded into Lascar's room leaving a cloud of stone dust in the room.

"I told you the room trapped the wrong two people," Kriista grinned. She was covered from head to toe with gray stone dust from the door. The sight pushed Dhrel over the edge and he again fell to the floor laughing, unable to breathe.

"What's so funny now?" the draelic queen asked, but Dhrel couldn't catch his breath long enough to answer. Kriista turned and walked out of the room pretending she was angry at her brother, but as she walked through Lascar's room she saw herself in the mirror. She shook herself off like a wet dog but very little of the dust fell off. All she really accomplished was to make another dust cloud.

"Ok, that's funny," Kriista relented as she started laughing.

In a few moments, after they had both caught their breath, Dhrel grabbed the journal from the floor and followed his sister out of Lascar's room. When they were both in the throne room Dhrel plopped the book on the table and sat down in front of it.

"I think I'm going to take a bath, you see if you can make the stupid book work," Kriista said.

"Ok, you might want to take two baths. That's a lot of dust," Dhrel smirked.

"Ha ha, watch it buddy or you'll be the one needing two baths." Kriista then walked downstairs and told one of the guards at the front door to have the maid start a bath.

With Kriista gone, Dhrel returned to the book. This book was important but how was he going to read it? He proceeded to flip through the pages like Kriista but it was still blank. He tried concentrating and putting his palm on the book. Perhaps he could siphon off the energy protecting the words. This also didn't work.

The young king put the book down and began to pace the room. How would Lascar guard a journal? It was apparently different than the way that Lastian had guarded his journal. For Lastian's journal all that was required was for the person to touch it, Lascar's was different but it couldn't be that much different. Lascar had to be able to read it and write in it. Dhrel must have missed something upstairs.

Dhrel went back to the study and searched the table. It was pretty ordinary, there was a pen, an ink well and some blank paper. The middle was devoid of dust because the journal had sat there for a very long time. Other than these simple objects, there wasn't anything that could explain how Lascar was able to use the book. When Dhrel had nearly given up he noticed the small needle sitting beside the ink well. On the end of the needled there appeared to be dried blood. That was it!

Dhrel ran downstairs with the needle in his hand. As he approached the table he pricked his finger and put a drop of blood on the outside cover of the book. He hadn't noticed the strange design before, but knowing about the blood it made perfect sense. The design on the outside of the book was a small circle in the center, about the size of a silver coin, half the size of a gold coin. And coming off the small circle was a spiral that reached the edge of the cover. When Dhrel put his drop of blood in the center, red magical energy sped through the spiral and the book itself began to glow red.

Dhrel again opened the journal and this time the pages were filled with writing. Dhrel skimmed through the first half of the journal while Kriista took her time bathing. Lascar wrote about many magical theories in the first half, mostly about how to gain more power, speculation about the necromancers, but mostly about resurrecting Zephillia.

When Dhrel reached the second half of the journal, Lascar's writing changed. The writing appeared to be more recent, perhaps only a few years old. Dhrel could tell this by the fact that the ink was barely faded and the paper still seemed crisp and new. Lascar now wrote about the keys.

Apparently Lascar had been searching for the keys for a long time and he finally figured out where they all were. The only thing stopping him was getting Sol's key. He spoke of the master's ex-wife as though she was a myth. Apparently Lascar knew she had one of the keys but couldn't find her. He even knew she was in the desert, but apparently her magic kept the evil king from finding her.

Kriista had returned from her bath and as she dried her hair she noticed that Dhrel had somehow made the journal legible.

"You did it!" Kriista exclaimed. "Anything interesting in there?"

"You were right," he said dejectedly. "We helped Lascar because we didn't know what was really going on."

"How do you mean?" Kriista asked.

"He couldn't find Sol. We led him right to her." Dhrel's expression became more depressed as he went on. "If we hadn't gone to look for her, Lascar's plan would have never been possible. He used us to find her and then stole the key."

"Yes, while that is true, all we can do is try to be smarter now." Kriista shared Dhrel's regret for getting Sol killed, but they couldn't change what had already happened.

"You're right. I'll keep looking, you can get some rest. There must be more to what he's really up to in here," Dhrel said staring back at the journal.

"No, I think it's your turn to rest. I just got done with a nice long bath, I'm very well rested." Kriista smiled as she slid the book away from Dhrel.

"You might be right," Dhrel agreed as he yawned. He hadn't realized that Kriista was gone for nearly three hours until he looked out the window and saw the sun going down.

"Why don't you ask the guard to bring you some supper, then head to bed, I'll see what I can find," Kriista suggested as she sat down in the chair next to Dhrel.

"Actually, can I take a bath too?" Dhrel asked sheepishly.

"Of course, just ask the guard to get the maid while he gets your supper. The maid will run you a bath while you eat," the draelic queen explained.

Dhrel then proceeded down the steps to speak with the guard while Kriista picked up where her brother had left off.

Lascar wrote about the keys with respect, although Kriista couldn't find anywhere in the writing that stated what he wanted to use them for. The only other key, besides Sol's key, that Lascar wrote about was one of the Brizen keys. It was apparently held by a well-to-do witch, who had amassed great power, supposedly from the key. This witch lived outside the port city of Gojeth in a large expensive house. Most of the people of Gojeth either feared or respected her, depending on how well off they were. The witch apparently was kind to her wealthy friends but detested the people she considered below her in status. Having many wealthy friends, she became quite powerful. Most people considered her the unofficial leader, maybe even queen of the town. In the writing Lascar often referred to her as The Governess.

Lascar went on to talk about how the keys were attuned to only one person. Each person could only use one key. They only exception to this was himself. Somehow the evil king was able to use any of the keys, not completely but enough that he could use the power of any he might get ahold of. He claimed to have found out about this in a very old book written by one of the previous key holders. The previous key holder had written this as a warning to the person he passed the key on to, the witch of Brizen. The book warned about Lascar's ability to use any key and that she was to keep herself hidden and not draw attention to herself in order to keep the key safe. She had either never gotten this book or had chosen to disregard the warning. Perhaps she thought she was powerful enough to face off against Lascar and win?

Kriista thought about this for a bit. The keys apparently made the person quite powerful, but they still aged. Eventually they had to find another person to carry the key. She wondered how many people had held the keys, successfully hiding them from Lascar for all these years. This witch of Brizen was careless and she had no idea that she had garnered Lascar's attention. Kriista almost felt bad for the witch, even with a key, someone who wasn't part of her family wouldn't stand a chance against Lascar.

Kriista then found something interesting, a passage written at the end of the journal. It appeared to have been written right before Lascar left for his journey to resurrect Zephillia. In the passage he talked about Dhrel. Basically he feared that Dhrel might get his key first. If Dhrel was as powerful as Lastian and got his key first, Lascar's plans would be ruined, perhaps his life might even be in danger. The evil king needed as many keys as he could get to protect himself from Dhrel.

Dhrel returned to the throne room, looking and smelling like he had just taken a bath. He had a funny look on his face as he approached Kriista and she could tell something was on his mind.

"What's wrong?" Kriista asked.

"I think your maid was flirting with me," Dhrel said confused.

"Yeah, she is a feisty one," Kriista laughed.

"It was just weird, coming from a servant," Dhrel explained.

Kriista turned to her brother and he could tell right away that she was upset.

"Linsa is not a servant!" Kriista yelled.

"Wait, what, I..." Dhrel struggled for words but he had no idea why his sister was so upset.

"Linsa holds one of the most prestigious jobs in Stone's Rest. It is her job, but I detest the word servant," Kriista attempted to calm herself. This was clearly a subject that bothered her. "I have known her since she was a child. The one person I trust more than any general, any soldier, even more than Grulek is my maid. I have to. She oversees my food being cooked, the cleaning of my room, my clothes, my baths, everything. But mostly Linsa is my friend."

"I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to belittle her. But she is a servant, even if that is her job," Dhrel said trying to explain himself.

"Can we agree to use a different word, maid or just call her by name. When I hear the word servant I think of slave. Yes, she does serve me, but I don't like the connotation that goes along with the title servant."

"I completely understand," Dhrel agreed. "It won't happen again."

"Actually I don't think you do," Kriista said regretfully. "And I don't expect you to. I'm sorry, Linsa and I used to be together. It didn't work out, but we stayed close friends. This was long before I met Elyse."

Now it made sense to Dhrel, Linsa was about sixty or seventy years old. She probably had been Kriista's first real relationship, the kind that you never forget. That kind of friend was not someone you would let anyone insult, even if it was by accident, even if it was your brother.

"She's married now, has four kids. One of them a one bar general, another is her apprentice, Kayla, a nice girl. The flirting wasn't serious, she just has a silly side to her," Kriista added. "I imagine when she passes Kayla will take over and I will hopefully trust her as much as I do Linsa." Kriista got quiet and appeared to be deep in thought. Perhaps she was pondering the short life 'normal' people had or maybe she was just saddened by the fact that Linsa would be gone someday.

"Anyway, I found something in the book," Kriista said, returning to their search for knowledge.

Kriista showed Dhrel the passages she had found and explained some of what she understood from them. After some discussion they both agreed that they needed to leave for Brizen in the morning. If Dhrel finding his key scared Lascar that much, they needed to find it. Anything that might help them stop Lascar was worth trying.

# Chapter 23

Sarthol and Zorlen rode their horses slowly though the countryside as they made their way to Shojeth. They were in no hurry and they stopped frequently for meals and for Sarthol to train his son. Zorlen was getting quite good at fighting, he still couldn't beat his father but after a few weeks of training he was able to hold his own. They hadn't spoken about their failed attempt to get into Lascar's study and retrieve the journal, but this weighed heavily on Zorlen's mind. He didn't want to disappoint Lascar, he wasn't scared of Lascar, he wanted Lascar to respect him.

"Why haven't we talked about what happened at Stone's Rest?" Zorlen said as he swung the elegant two handed sword and blocked Sarthol's attack.

"What do you mean?" Sarthol asked in response.

"Isn't Lascar going to be angry that we didn't get the journal? We didn't even go back to try again, we just left," Zorlen said as he swung his sword barely missing Sarthol's arm.

"Oh, you thought we were supposed to get the journal?" Sarthol asked as if Zorlen was a child.

"We weren't there to get the journal?" the assassin asked as he swung again, this time nicking his father's hand.

"Ow, let's take a break. You're getting too good for me to speak and fight at the same time," Sarthol said as he sheathed his swords and sat on a nearby log.

Zorlen followed his father and sat on the other end of the log, not too close, he still didn't like his father. The assassin had resolved himself to stay with Sarthol so he could find Lascar again. His father's training was also a plus, there were many things he didn't know and many things Sarthol could teach him. Zorlen thought of Sarthol as more of a partner of convenience than a father. As soon as Sarthol was not useful anymore, Zorlen could just leave.

"Ok, this is the way that Lascar does things. We were there not to get the journal but to inform Dhrel and Kriista that the journal was important. We were supposed to make sure they found the study and the journal. That way they head to Brizen sooner. I have no idea what the journal really is but I'm sure whatever it says leads them right where Lascar wants them to be," Sarthol said matter-of-factly.

"So this is more of Lascar's plan?" Zorlen asked. He was quite impressed with Lascar's ability to devise such thought out strategic plans. This plan of his was intricate and he had clearly placed the journal there long before he left Stone's Rest. How long had Lascar been working on this plan? The more he thought of it, the more impressed Zorlen was with his grandfather.

"Everything is part of Lascar's plan, that's why we're going so slow. We want them to get to Shojeth before us. We need to make sure they get on that boat," Sarthol said as he cleaned the blood from his hand. The wound was healed already and no longer hurt, the real pain was to his ego. His son had gotten a solid hit on his hand. Soon Zorlen would be a match for him, just like Raylee. This worried Sarthol. Raylee had turned on him and if it came to it would probably kill him, given the chance. Hopefully Zorlen wouldn't turn out the same way.

"Shojeth is actually only another day, we can camp outside the town on the hill that overlooks the port. That way we can see them get on the boat. After that, we take the next boat to Brizen and meet up with Lascar," Sarthol stated as he put his supplies back on his horse. "We should get moving, we don't want to miss them."

"What if they raced here first? Maybe they are already in Brizen," Zorlen stated.

"Good point, we'll go ask the dock hands if they've seen a white haired man with a purple horned lady," Sarthol laughed. "Wait that would describe Lascar as well." This made Sarthol laugh even harder.

"Wait, isn't Zephillia blue?" Zorlen asked seriously.

"Yes, she's blue, it was just a joke," Sarthol said disappointed. Zorlen was way too serious for Sarthol. His son had no ability to find fun in anything.

They continued their journey to Shojeth with fewer breaks. Zorlen was determined to get to the port and make sure they weren't wasting time. He had begun to keep up with his father in their sparing matches so he felt that more training was unnecessary. He needed to find a real fight to test his new skills. He needed to fight Kriista again. If he failed to win against Kriista a third time, then he might have more to learn.

The port was empty when they arrived, not even dock hands were wandering around. Sarthol looked worried by the lack of people on the docks.

"What's wrong?" Zorlen asked.

"There's no one here. That means the ship left yesterday, maybe the day before. We will have to wait a week or two until the next ship. We should head to the bar, the dock hands are probably there spending their wages til the next ship docks," Sarthol said as he turned his horse to the small town barely visible from the docks.

"What's the point of that?" Zorlen asked.

"For one, we have nothing better to do. And for two, maybe someone remembers seeing Dhrel and Kriista. Either way, I could use a drink," Sarthol responded.

Zorlen reluctantly turned his horse to follow his father as he rolled his eyes. Zorlen had spent his fair share of time in bars, but right now he just wanted to go to Brizen. Sarthol was right about one thing, they needed to know if Dhrel and Kriista had already left.

They approached the center of town as the sun was setting. With daylight fading, it was fairly evident which building was the bar. It was the only business with lights on. It was also the only place they had seen with people outside.

Sarthol tied his horse to the post outside. He didn't really care if anyone stole the horse or not, they were already at their destination. In a week or so he would end up letting the horse go or perhaps selling it cheaply before their trip to Brizen. Zorlen, however, didn't think that far ahead. He carefully tied his horse to the pole and scoured the area for any would be thieves. The horse belonged to him, no one was going to steal it without a fight. Sarthol noticed his son's apprehension.

"You can't take horses on a boat you know?" he stated more than asked.

"Yeah, I know, it's still my horse," Zorlen responded.

"Lighten up boy, the horse doesn't matter. If someone steals it, we'll steal it back or maybe not. All depends on whether they already left or not," Sarthol said as he walked into the bar.

The music was loud, the patrons were louder. The bar was much more brightly lit than they were used to, but this wasn't a seedy bar where you would hire mercenaries. This was a small town, workman's bar. The patrons were regulars, most of them lived in the town and worked at the docks. Even most of the scantily clad waitresses probably lived in this town most of their lives. There was nothing to hide here and no one to hide it from.

Sarthol and Zorlen got strange looks as they walked to one of the empty tables in the back of the room. Sarthol who had spent much more time in bars raised his hand to let the bartender know that they would like to order drinks. After a few moments one of the more attractive waitresses walked over to their table. This was a common practice in small town bars. The older and less attractive waitresses relied on repeat business from patrons they flirted with while the one time customers would generally order more and tip better to a younger, more endowed waitress. Sarthol knew all the tricks and as soon as the young pretty woman asked for their order while intentionally bending over to show off her cleavage he asked if they could have another waitress.

"I'm quite capable of taking your order sir," the pretty young waitress protested.

"I'm sure you are, and I'm also sure you've probably worked here about two weeks. And you'll probably only work here another two. Until you have enough money or meet a man you can con out of enough money so that you can move on to where you really want to go," Sarthol said without taking a breath. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to know if she would be our waitress." Sarthol pointed at a woman in her mid-forties. She was still quite attractive and similarly well endowed. But judging by her age and how she flirted with most of the men as she walked by, she was a resident.

"Well, if that's your deal, have the old broad." The pretty young waitress now didn't seem so likable. She even gave Zorlen a disgruntled glare as she turned quickly, throwing her skirt into the air and showing off her slim undergarments. This Sarthol was also not surprised by and he leaned over to whisper into Zorlen's ear.

"She thinks you're rich and I'm obnoxious, you could probably get her into bed if you just flash a few gold coins." Then Sarthol sat back and winked at his son.

Zorlen had no interest in women right now, not that he wasn't interested in women. The waitress was exactly the type of woman he would have slept with, but he had more important things on his mind at the moment.

"I'll pass father." Again Zorlen emphasized father in a way that annoyed Sarthol. He only really used dad or father as a barb, never sincerely.

"Have it your way, son. But you are way to wound up, you need to let off some steam or you're gonna have an aneurism or something," Sarthol laughed as he held his hand up for the beautiful forty-some waitress.

The waitress walked over slowly, being sure that everyone in the bar was watching her walk. Sarthol was pleased with himself, he hadn't just picked a resident, he had picked the queen of the bar. She was the one that really ran things here, she might even be the owner or the owner's wife. As she walked over, even the bartender was watching her strut. Definitely not the owner's wife, the bartender would never be so careless as to watch the owner's wife like that, maybe the owner's girlfriend Sarthol thought as the woman strutted to their table.

"My name is Sharleen. What can I get you boys?" she asked as she bent over pretending to need the light to see her notepad. In reality it was the same move the younger waitress had tried. Showing some cleavage nearly always resulted in bigger tips. But Sharleen pulled it off much more elegantly, it even took Sarthol a second to realize what she was doing.

"Well, Sharleen, I'd like two house ales and a bottle of some of your good whisky. The stuff the bartender has in the back room," Sarthol said as he smiled up at her.

Sharleen began to protest until Sarthol placed two gold coins on the table. "The rest is for you. And some clean glasses please?" Sarthol grabbed the two glasses from the table that looked as if they had been used only moments ago and handed them to Sharleen. One even still had ale or something in the bottom of it.

"Right away," Sharleen said with a fake smile. She knew that would only leave her ten silvers for a tip.

"That was just to get your attention, we'll be here a while, I still have enough for a tip," Sarthol said as he winked at her.

"Ok sir." This time Sharleen's smile was not fake. Ten silvers was not a great tip for the expensive whiskey, but ten silvers as a down payment, that she could work with. In truth, ten silvers from one customer was considerable, it was just a ploy to get more from a man with money but Sarthol knew this. It was a game to him, a game he was very good at, even enjoyed.

"You gave her ten silvers to start?" Zorlen whispered in outrage.

"Information costs money boy. It also takes time. Be patient." Sarthol looked at his son with disbelief. "You really don't remember how to work a bar?"

"I never did like the bars, I was always bored," Zorlen responded.

"You're missing out on all the fun," Sarthol stated placing his hands behind his head.

"We're not here for fun, we're here to find out if they came through yet," Zorlen snapped back.

"Which is exactly what I'm doing, you need to learn patience. You also need to loosen up a bit and have some fun with it. What's the point if you don't have fun?" Sarthol enjoyed retrieving information from unwitting people. It was one of the few qualities that Lascar had ever liked about him. Perhaps that's why he enjoyed it so much, or maybe he was good at it because he enjoyed it so much. Either way was fine with Sarthol.

Soon Sharleen came back with their house ales and a bottle of whiskey. She also brought with her some clean glasses.

"When you have some time, come back and talk to us a bit. I think my son here would also like to talk to the younger girl. She is more his type I believe," Sarthol said as he motioned to the young waitress from before.

"That's Megan, and I think she might be interested. If you plan to order from her too," Sharleen said winking back at Sarthol. She didn't really mean order. What she really meant was tip generously for a fun evening. This was perfect.

"Why would we order more drinks? We have plenty?" Zorlen asked as Sharleen walked away.

"They don't want us to order more drinks, they want us to order them," Sarthol explained as he elbowed Zorlen in the ribs.

"Oh," was all that Zorlen could say. He was a bit embarrassed that he hadn't caught that the first time.

After some time Zorlen got over his embarrassment and decided to address the situation at hand.

"I'm not interested in paying for sex," Zorlen stated.

"Who said anything about paying for sex? I'm paying for information, if they want to throw in some sex also, who am I to complain?" Sarthol chuckled.

Zorlen just rolled his eyes and took another drink of the barely palatable ale. He decided that maybe some whiskey might make the ale taste better, after all Sarthol had paid two whole gold pieces for some whiskey and two disgusting ales. The whiskey had better be good. Much to Zorlen's surprise the whiskey was actually quite good, at least he couldn't taste the ale anymore.

After about an hour of Zorlen sitting there being condescending and standoffish, as well as drinking more than half the whiskey, the waitresses finally sat down at their table. Megan sat very close to Zorlen and gave Sarthol dirty looks as she poured another whiskey for the already drunk assassin. Sharleen sat a bit farther from Sarthol, she was a bit wiser and wanted to make sure Sarthol wasn't going to try anything funny, at least not until he paid.

Zorlen drank another glass of whiskey and then with slurred words tried to get Sarthol to move things along. "Why don you ask dem whats yous was gonna ask dem?"

"Sorry, my son can't really handle his whiskey, but he needed to let off some steam," Sarthol apologized. "But he has a point, we're looking for some friends of ours. They are heading to Brizen and we're not sure if we missed them or if they haven't arrived yet." As he asked, the rough xeltheen slid two gold coins onto the table. One at Sharleen and one at Megan.

Sharleen played it cool and slid the coin onto her lap, but Megan quickly snatched up the coin and stared at it to make sure it was real.

"Megan, don't be rude," Sharleen snapped at her trainee. "Well if they came through here, I may have seen them. What do they look like?"

"One was a human with white hair, I think he cut it short recently. He's young looking, like my son and pretty fit. His companion is his sister, although they look nothing alike. She is a beautiful draelic woman, purple, with curly hair." Sarthol could almost see the wheels turning in Sharleen's head. She didn't quite believe the friends line. He needed to try a little truth.

"Ok, it's my niece and nephew, and their father is quite upset with them. You see they are royalty, lashing out at their father. They are heading to Brizen to go meet their mother. My brother doesn't really care if they go see their mother, he just wants me to make sure they make it safely to Brizen." Sarthol paused for a second trying to judge Sharleen's reaction to his new story. She still didn't quite seem convinced. "You know how royals are, I'm the black sheep. My brother paid me a lot of money to find his children, money I'm willing to spread around to anyone that helps me. Please, help me find his kids before my brother has his guard go looking for them. The guards won't ask nicely, they will beat on anyone that might have seen them until they get answers."

For a moment Sarthol thought he might be laying it on a bit thick, but then Sharleen moved her hand on top of his.

"Ok, I may have seen two people that looked like who you're asking about. And these two people, I may have seen, might have gotten on the ship two days ago," Sharleen said as she grinned at Sarthol.

"Well then I guess my job is done until the ship comes back, I'm off the clock until then," Sarthol smiled back. He took two more gold coins out of his pocket and slid both of them to Sharleen.

"Hey!" Megan protested.

"Sorry, I pay for information, not getting my son so drunk he can't walk," Sarthol laughed. "If you want more, you'll have to take it up with him."

Megan turned to Zorlen and put her hand under his chin. "You wanna go back to my place? Maybe have a private party?"

Zorlen looked up at her, unable to see straight.

"Why sur, I'dd love ta hab a pahty at yous place." Zorlen placed his hand on Megan's arm trying to steady himself to stand up, but Megan immediately screamed and pulled her arm away. Apparently all the alcohol had caused his body to think it was poisoned, in an effort to heal itself Zorlen's body reacted in a way that Sarthol was not ready for. Zorlen's body had the innate ability that Lascar had strived for all his life. Zorlen could drain human energy by touch.

"Whoa, I'm sorry Megan, I didn't mean to," Zorlen said, his speech no longer slurred. In fact, he didn't feel the least bit drunk any more.

"Get away from me!" Megan yelled as she tried to stand up. The energy that Zorlen had drained from her caused the young waitress to lose her balance and then Megan passed out.

Sarthol turned to Sharleen and tried to explain.

"Sorry, my son has a condition, it's not intentional, he didn't mean to hurt her," Sarthol struggled to find words that wouldn't panic his new companion, but it was too late.

Sharleen stood up from the table and rushed to Megan's side.

"You two need to get going," Sharleen said cruelly.

"But, it was an accident, he didn't mean to hurt her." Sarthol then noticed four large dock workers standing up from their chairs. The largest one, and apparently the bravest, stooped over and yelled in Zorlen's face.

"She said get out!" the overly large man yelled.

"You don't want to do that friend," Sarthol said trying to keep the man from losing his head. "We'll be going as soon as we're sure she's ok."

But it was too late for the large dock worker. Zorlen stood up from his seat, nearly two heads shorter than the man that yelled at him. Sarthol saw his son reach over his head for his sword and quickly leapt over the table, grabbing Zorlen's wrist.

"No deaths. We don't get to Brizen if someone dies," Sarthol pleaded with his son.

Zorlen quickly broke free from Sarthol's grasp and unsheathed his sword. With one swift motion he drove the sword though the middle of the table. Then took out a gold coin and placed it beside his blade.

"No deaths." Zorlen was angry but he could still think clearly enough to realize that killing a dock worker would only slow his trip to Brizen. "Let's go outside," Zorlen said turning to the man who yelled at him.

"Little man, this is gonna be fun," the large dock worker said as he grabbed his coat and went outside.

"Not for you it's not," Sarthol muttered quietly under his breath. Sarthol quickly retrieved Zorlen's sword from the table and tossed two more gold coins at Megan who was still unconscious. "That's for her trouble, sorry again Sharleen." Sharleen just ignored Sarthol, so he ran outside to make sure his son didn't lose control and kill anyone.

When Sarthol got outside, he saw three men surrounding Zorlen and the large dock worker. They were goading the big man on. 'Show him what's up', 'Megan will give you a freebee for this' and 'Knock the skinny bastard's teeth in'. The large man stood with his feet apart and his fists ready, but it was obvious to Sarthol that the man was no boxer, he was just big. The big man was overly anxious and as he swung, Zorlen just stood there with his hands behind his back, dodging. The large man was getting frustrated so he lunged at Zorlen with his whole body but Zorlen simply took a step to the side, and tripped the man.

When the large man got to his feet he yelled at his companions. "Hold the squirrely bastard so I can hit him."

"This is good training son! How many times can you hit them without knocking them out?! How much pain can you inflict before they give up?!" Sarthol yelled to his son.

One of the companions ran at Sarthol. Sarthol dropped to the ground and hit the companion squarely in his knee. The cracking sound was horrible and even made Sarthol wince a bit.

"I guess you're done, sorry," Sarthol apologized to the man lying on the ground holding his knee.

The other two companions tried to grab Zorlen but Zorlen dodged them, hitting one in the ribs and the other in the kidney. Both men stumbled a bit but quickly recovered and ran at Zorlen again. The assassin was so busy with the two in front of him that he forgot the large one behind him. Pain shot through his back as the large man's fist hit him dead center in his spine.

"No, don't hit him there!" Sarthol yelled but it was too late.

Zorlen turned, now extremely angry. The large man had reminded him of how Kriista had nearly killed him. Zorlen hit the man in the ribs over and over again. Occasionally there was a sound of breaking bones, other times a dull thud.

"No killing!" Sarthol yelled again.

Zorlen stopped and the large man fell, unable to stand any more. His two companions just stood there staring, unable to believe how fast Zorlen had just destroyed their friend. After a few seconds they ran to the large man's side and attempted to drag him off, presumably to a doctor.

Zorlen slowly walked back to Sarthol with his hands again behind his back.

"I didn't kill him," Zorlen said with a sneer. Then the assassin walked to his horse, untied it and started to ride out of town.

Sarthol stood there for a second thinking about what happened. Zorlen could absorb energy from people. It took Lascar centuries to figure this out and Zorlen did it by accident because he was drunk. His son was dangerous, maybe as dangerous as Lascar. True, Zorlen didn't have magic, but maybe what he did have was just as bad.

Sarthol quickly untied his horse and hurried after Zorlen. He needed to talk to Zorlen about what happened.

"Son, wait up," Sarthol said as he drew closer to his son.

"What do you want?" Zorlen spat, still angry.

"Just so you know, I can change form. I got it from my mother. Not like into animals like true druids, but I can change my appearance, age, even turn into someone else. What you have is way more dangerous. I've never seen anything like it," Sarthol explained, trying to get Zorlen to talk about it.

"So? And I kinda figured out you could change how you look. You're at least thirty years younger than when you faked your death," Zorlen responded angrily

"Well to be honest there's one person who can do what you did, Lascar. It's similar anyway. But he had to train and train to learn how to do it. You just did it by accident. What if you shake someone's hand and accidentally kill them?" Sarthol asked concerned for his son.

"I could feel it, it was like with the tree. I stopped it as soon as it started. The only reason it happened at all was because you wanted to go get drunk. I think I'll just ask grandfather about this, I doubt you would have any idea how it works. But until the boat comes, no more visits to town. At least not for me." Zorlen then spurred his horse and took off toward the hill where they had originally planned to camp.

Sarthol wasn't sure why Zorlen was so angry. Maybe because he almost killed that girl? Because Sarthol couldn't help him understand his powers? Or perhaps the reminder of how Kriista almost killed him? Whatever the reason, Zorlen was angry and very dangerous, staying away from town was probably the best idea.

# Chapter 24

When Dhrel stepped off the boat in Brizen he could feel that magic worked differently here. It was as if he felt more powerful and weaker at the same time. The sensation was confusing, how could he be both weaker and more powerful? He turned to watch Kriista as she stepped off the boat and it was apparent by her confused look that she was feeling the same strange sensation.

"What is that?" Kriista asked.

"I'm not sure, this will take some getting used to," Dhrel answered as he turned and looked at the town.

Gojeth was very different from Shojeth. Where Shojeth was a small human town up on a hill away from the docks, Gojeth appeared to be a large, populated city that stretched as far as Dhrel could see in either direction. The town smelled of cured salty fish, ale and burning wood. The smell wasn't entirely unpleasant, it actually made Dhrel hungry.

When Dhrel looked around at the people walking by he noticed that most of them were races he had never seen before. There was one race that looked feline, with long pointed ears and most of their bodies covered with fur. Most of this feline race were skinny and about Kriista's height and as he watched them go by, lost in their conversations, he noticed that there was not a single man of this race. They were somehow all women. That was when Dhrel noticed that many of these feline women were with shorter, stockier men that appeared to be ovine. They didn't have cloven feet or anything but the large ram like horns and general look of their face reminded him of a sheep. And similar to the feline women all the ovine appeared to be men.

There were also a few humans wandering around but not nearly as many as the cat women or sheep men. Then Dhrel noticed another race, a very sinister looking reptilian race. He wasn't quite sure if they were all the same race since many of them looked like different lizards he had read about in Draylen's books. Some of the reptilians had spikes protruding from their heads some had colorful markings around the eyes and cheeks and still others were smooth and colored like rocks. But in the end Dhrel concluded that they were probably the same race, but just like humans, they came in many different skin colors.

Just as Dhrel was about to head to one of the buildings and start his search for the witch that ruled this city a small ovine man came around the corner and stopped right in Dhrel's path. The ovine man appeared nervous and jittery.

"Name is Glath," the small ovine said as he held his short stubby hand out to Dhrel. Glath was smaller and thinner than the other ovine men Dhrel had seen.

"Dhrel," the young king answered as he shook the ovine's hand.

"I assume this is your first time?" Glath asked almost rhetorically.

"Yes," Kriista replied. Her response made Glath jump.

"Sorry miss, didn't see you there," Glath said staring at Kriista. Glath looked Kriista up and down, forgetting what he was talking about.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence Kriista couldn't take it anymore.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"My apologies miss, I have never seen your kind before. You have to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And that's saying something, I've met some pretty amazing looking women..."

Dhrel cut Glath off, realizing that the small ovine man would just keep talking if Dhrel didn't redirect the conversation.

"You're barking up the wrong tree Glath," Dhrel interrupted.

"What? I know I'm not the most handsome man, I'm short and thin but I have power and influence in this city, surely..." Glath droned on.

"That's not it friend." Dhrel stopped, trying to figure out a polite way of saying it so that he didn't offend or embarrass his sister.

"He means I like women, you're just not my type," Kriista said with a smile.

Glath almost looked happy, Kriista wasn't rejecting him because he was small and weak. She just didn't like men and he wasn't ashamed of being a man.

"OH!!!" Glath said just a bit too loud. "I could introduce you to some of my friends, they are quite attractive."

"Sorry Glath, we're not here on vacation. We're sorta working," Kriista said trying to turn this conversation around.

"Yes, yes, my apologies, I should have asked that first. I just assumed... Well, most people... I guess you're not most people... I should probably just ask now shouldn't I? So why are you here in Shojeth?" Half the time it seemed like Glath was actually talking to himself out loud. Like his thoughts were spilling out of his mouth.

Dhrel wasn't quite sure they should trust this silly little ovine just yet. They had made so many mistakes already, they needed to be more careful.

"We're actually here looking for artifacts to study, we're from the Tyrillian Academy, but first I think we should learn more about your town and the people in it. That might make things go a bit smoother don't you think?" Dhrel asked turning his head to Kriista to make sure she was on board with his little rouse.

"Yes, I think knowing more about the people of this land will help us immensely," Kriista agreed.

"Ok, well, umm... Where should I start? Where should I start? You're new here and probably don't even know what to call us so I guess I'll start there. Well my race is known as the Kaljeck. As you've probably noticed the men and women look very different from each other. Yes, that's a good place to start, humans always ask that question. I'm not sure why it is but women look like... What do humans call them? Cats, that's what they call them. And the men look like umm, sheep? I think it's sheep. Some say goats but sheep is probably more accurate." Once Glath started talking it was hard to get a word in edgewise. He seemed to be able to carry on a conversation with himself just fine and needed no one else.

"The reptiles," Glath said with a scowl. He obviously didn't like them. "They are our newest allies, they are called the scaldreth. And they all look different, but I'm assured by knowledgeable people from the scaldreth that they are all the same race. But between you and me, I don't trust them. In public they are gruff and unkind, but if I ever saw one in a dark alley... I mean if I was dumb enough to walk alone in a dark alley at night, which of course I'm not, but if I was I'd run the other way as fast as I can. Since we signed the treaty people go missing at night, not a lot of people, and usually the poor and homeless, people that won't be missed you know? Well anyway, what else do you want to know?"

It took Dhrel a second to be sure Glath was actually asking him a question.

"Well we've heard that the Queen, the woman in charge of the city. She has seen one of these artifacts we are wanting to study, she may even have one," Dhrel said.

"No, no, shhhh... Never speak about her in public. Come with me, this way, follow me. There is a bar this way," Glath said, almost whispering, as he walked toward one of the buildings. The building had no sign but in front, standing by the doors were two scantily clad Kaljeck women waving at anyone that walked by.

Then Glath's voice rose, he wanted everyone to hear what he was saying this time.

"This way my friends, this is one of the most popular taverns on the water front. We'll sit down with some good ale after your long trip."

When Glath stepped through the swinging wooden doors he raised his hand with three fingers up and then pointed the three fingers at a table in the back corner of the room. The Kaljeck woman at the bar nodded and grabbed three large glass mugs.

Glath led the way to the back table, occasionally glancing behind to make sure that Dhrel and Kriista were still following him.

Kriista had a bad feeling about this. This bar, this strange little man, everything about it screamed trap to her. Kriista needed to find out if Dhrel felt the same way, but if it really was a trap she couldn't let Glath know. For the first time in a while Kriista tried to force her thoughts into Dhrel's head.

Dhrel turned to look at his sister, he could feel her trying to communicate but it wasn't working. Dhrel sat down next to Glath at the table and tried to speak to Kriista without words. For Dhrel it was much easier.

"What is it?" Dhrel thought to his sister.

Once Dhrel started the conversation it became easier for Kriista. Somehow Dhrel needed to help her or it didn't quite work.

"This is a trap. Glath is up to something. Did you see the look on his face when you mentioned the queen?" Kriista asked her brother silently.

"Yes, I figured as much. But we need information and he obviously knows something. I figured it was worth the risk. And I'm not really afraid of a few guards or thugs, you could take on ten guys and not break a sweat," Dhrel thought to her and then smiled.

Kriista was pleased that her brother had so much confidence in her but this was a place they knew nothing about. "What if the Kaljeck or even the scaldreth are as strong as me? Maybe they have magic?" Kriista didn't like risks.

"You have a point, but we need to beat Lascar to the keys. I think this risk is worth it," Dhrel thought.

The waitress arrived at the table with their drinks. Kriista noticed that she also seemed nervous, not like Glath but still nervous. She looked at the drinks at least five times before finally handing them out. It was as if she wanted to make sure of who got which drinks.

"I think they did something to the drinks, you notice how she checked them over and over before handing them out. Like she wanted to make sure we got the right ones?" Kriista asked Dhrel silently.

"I did see her acting funny, good catch," Dhrel responded without words and again smiled at his sister.

It almost annoyed Kriista how much confidence her brother had in her. Not the confidence itself but the fact that he thought he could do whatever he wanted and she would somehow always save him.

"You need to be more serious. What if something comes up that I can't handle?" Kriista asked without saying a word.

"Kris, just because I have confidence in you doesn't mean I'm walking into this blindly. I noticed the waitress, I was suspicious of Glath from the beginning. Now if I'm reading things right, they intend to poison us or maybe just knock us out and take us somewhere to be interrogated. Either way, I highly doubt they have a poison anywhere that could kill us. And if they want to interrogate us, that is the perfect opportunity to find out who this witch is and where she has the key," Dhrel responded without words.

Kriista was impressed, she was apparently wrong about her brother. He wasn't relying solely on her, he was just assuming she had his back, and he was right. This new closeness with her brother was a strange thing but it was nice. He trusted her completely but wasn't relying on her to do everything. This felt very much like what she had always wanted, a family.

Dhrel sniffed at his drink, he could smell the toxin in it. A normal person wouldn't have noticed it but Dhrel and Kriista weren't normal. It was very apparent that Glath had no idea who he was dealing with.

"So, is this the best ale in town?" Dhrel asked out loud as he lifted his mug and took a big drink.

Glath nervously stared at Kriista, hoping she would drink hers. He fidgeted in his seat and eventually picked up his mug hoping Kriista would do the same before the poison started working on Dhrel.

"No, but it's a close second," Glath said his voice shaking. Glath was strangely abrupt with his words.

Kriista enjoyed watching the conniving little ovine squirm a bit too much. She picked up her mug slowly and spoke to Glath.

"Well if this is a close second, when are you going to show us the best ale?" Kriista smiled evilly as she slowly lifted her mug and then put it down again. "I mean, I will need something to compare this to, perhaps we can head there soon?" Kriista lifted the mug again, this time much slower, watching Glath the whole time and enjoying every minute of it.

Glath began to sweat and shake. If Dhrel had not suggested that they play along with this like some game, Kriista would have killed Glath and the waitress when the ale hit the table. She could smell the poison before the waitress even got to them. It wasn't meant to kill them, it was a heavy dose of a common root people used to help them sleep. Most people would have smelled the alcohol or the grain of the ale and thought nothing of the almost fruity under tones of the sleeping root.

"You would not have killed them and we both know it," Dhrel said silently in Kriista's head.

"Wait, you heard that? Are you listening to my thoughts?" Kriista asked back silently.

"No, you were thinking just a bit too loudly. I think you forgot you were talking to me in your head. You have to shut it off you know? Now please drink the ale before we miss our chance. You've made him sweat enough, he will have nightmares about this day for a long time. In fact after you drink the ale, maybe give him a scare. Really get some revenge." Dhrel grinned slyly at Kriista and then drank the rest of his ale.

Kriista relented and tossed back the whole mug of ale in one drink. Dhrel turned his head slightly so that Glath couldn't see what he was doing and winked at Kriista. Then Dhrel acted like he was dizzy and dropped his head on the table with a loud thump. Glath jumped at the noise and then stared nervously at Kriista.

"Wha di you dooo?!" Kriista yelled pretending to slur her words. She grabbed one of her short blades from her belt and stood up, pushing the chair out from behind her. The chair slammed into the back wall and toppled to its side. "You are trying to kill us!" Kriista grabbed the small man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him effortlessly across the table. She drew back the blade and just before she was going to plunge it into his chest she pretended to pass out, dropping the dagger on the floor and landing on top of Glath in the middle of the table.

"Ok, now that was good," Dhrel thought to his sister. "Maybe you should have been an actress, traveling around with the plays."

"Oh, come on, I'm not that good. But I think the poor little bastard wet himself," Kriista thought to Dhrel.

If they weren't trying to act unconscious the two of them would have been rolling on the floor laughing right about now. In their heads they could hear each other trying to laugh, but laughter was something that had to be heard, not thought.

Soon two large scaldreth men came to the table, each one grabbing one of them and throwing them over their shoulders. Outside there was a carriage waiting and once Dhrel and Kriista were thrown into the back the two scaldreth hopped in beside them and the Kaljeck man driving the cart took off down the street toward the edge of town.

Kriista and Dhrel had both been peeking once in a while to get a sense of what was happening, talking to each other in their head the whole time. They marveled at how the patrons of the bar reacted, or rather didn't react, to two people being drugged and abducted. It seemed like this was a common occurrence here. Nearly all the patrons kept drinking their ale acting like they didn't even notice what was going on. The few that did turn their heads, quickly looked away, hoping the large scaldreth didn't take them as well.

# Chapter 25

The trip to the witch's castle took a few hours and by the time they arrived, Kriista and Dhrel were sore from laying still for so long. The carriage ride had been bumpy and the driver seemed to be in a hurry. As they peeked out past the two scaldreth guards Kriista and Dhrel noticed a few smaller villages. In fact, the driver had been in such a hurry that he didn't even stop to let the horses rest at any of them.

When they finally arrived at the witch's castle they didn't go through the front gates. The carriage continued past the gates to a small dimly lit side road that seemed to go around the back. As Dhrel peeked up, the darkening sky was completely blacked out by a canopy of trees. Along the side of the carriage the trees were so close that he occasionally heard the branches scrape across the sides of the carriage.

"This must be some hidden dungeon the witch uses for prisoners she wants no one to find out about," Dhrel thought silently to Kriista.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Kriista replied.

"Should we go now?" Dhrel asked with his thoughts.

"No, we still have the element of surprise, let's get closer to her before we let her know what we are," Kriista replied silently.

"Where are we?" Dhrel asked out loud acting groggy.

"You'll find out soon enough," the smaller scaldreth snapped.

Kriista also sat up pretending she was just now waking up.

"What's going on?" Kriista asked.

"You are 'guests' of the Governess," the larger scaldreth replied.

Then the carriage stopped and they could see a doorway in the stone wall. It was partially covered with vines but a single candle outside the door lit up the area like a star. The two scaldreth picked up their prisoners and tossed them over their shoulders again before proceeding through the eerie door.

Once inside it was quite evident what this place was. Along each wall of the narrow hallway were prison cells, about half of them with prisoners inside. The strange thing was that all the prisoners were Kaljeck or human, not a single scaldreth. Dhrel got the feeling that this was not a prison for people that had committed crimes, rather a place to stash people that ask too many questions.

At the end of the hall the scaldreth opened the door and threw them both inside.

"You two should say your goodbyes, I have a feeling you're for dinner tonight," the smaller scaldreth said with an evil grin.

"Now?" Dhrel asked with his thoughts.

"No, let them leave first," Kriista replied silently.

As soon as the two scaldreth had left the dungeon and shut the door behind them Kriista stood up.

"Now," Kriista said out loud.

Kriista then walked over to the cell door and pulled the door inward until the hinges snapped.

"The doors open outward, that would have been easier," Dhrel teased.

"Yeah, but this was way more fun," Kriista replied with a huge smile.

"We should let them go first," Dhrel said motioning to the prisoners.

"Exactly what I was thinking," Kriista replied as she walked over to the next cell and ripped the door off.

Dhrel proceeded down the other side, placing his hands on the lock and concentrating. Within a few seconds there was a loud pop and the door swung open.

"My way is more elegant," Dhrel shouted over his shoulder to his sister.

"My way is faster," Kriista yelled from down the hall. She had opened twice as many as Dhrel.

Some of the prisoners thanked them before running to the exit, others tried to warn Kriista and Dhrel about what was really going on there. It seemed that the Governess fed the troublemakers to the scaldreth in order to secure their loyalty in policing the town. Some of the prisoners even claimed that they had never said anything about the Governess, they just happened to be in the wrong alley at the wrong time. Apparently the Governess didn't care who or how many the scaldreth ate, as long as they remained loyal.

When all the prisoners were safe Dhrel turned to his sister as he opened the door to the rest of the castle and with a mischievous smile proclaimed. "I think it's time we introduced ourselves, don't you?"

"Indeed," Kriista replied, acting as if she were invited to a royal party instead of walking out a prison door.

On the other side of the door was a winding staircase that led up. When they reached the top of the stairs they heard what sounded like a dinner party on the other side.

"Where do you suppose this door opens to?" Dhrel asked.

"Wouldn't that be hilarious if it opened up behind her throne or something?" Kriista replied.

"Oh the look on her face," Dhrel said sinisterly and opened the door.

Although the door wasn't exactly behind the throne it was on the far side of what appeared to be a stage that the throne was in the middle off. There was a chair on either side of the throne and a table directly in front of it. The Governess was sitting on the throne and two younger looking men were on either side. In front of the stage were several tables each with four of five people. It was apparently some kind of celebration. When the Governess heard the door open she turned angrily, expecting to yell at a guard. When she saw who it was her anger turned to surprise and then fear as she realized that these two people had just walked through the prison to get here.

"Guards!" the Governess yelled and four scaldreth ran for the door.

"I've got this, you 'introduce yourself' to the Governess," Kriista said with a grin.

The fear in the Governess's eyes grew and she stood up from her chair. With a glance to the side she could see Kriista throwing her guards around like rag dolls. She then returned her gaze to Dhrel and began to chant something in a language Dhrel had never heard. Soon a fireball appeared in her hands. She thrust her hand forward and the fireball grew to the size of a man's head and flew at Dhrel.

Dhrel didn't even pause, he merely raised his hand and caught the fireball, absorbing it. The Governess panicked. She began chanting another spell, this time a beam of ice shot from her hands. This time Dhrel didn't bother raising his hand, he let the beam hit him in the chest and it was also instantly absorbed.

"What are you?!" the Governess yelled. "Wait, are you Lastian?"

"No, I'm his son. And it's time for you to hand over the key," Dhrel said as he closed the distance between them.

"You'll never get it, and you can't hurt me while I have it," the Governess said with a self-satisfied smile on her face. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key, holding it up like a shield.

Kriista had finished with the scaldreth and leapt over the table. She reached out her hand to take the key but a bright flash of light appeared and Kriista was thrown across the room.

"See? Nothing you can do, so I think I'll be leaving now," the Governess said as she turned to walk out.

"Not so fast, I haven't tried yet," Dhrel said as he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

"Go right ahead," the Governess hissed.

Dhrel grabbed the key from her hand and immediately the feelings of hatred began again.

"No, that's not possible!" the Governess shouted as she tried to grab the key back. But when she touched the key she was thrown back just like Kriista.

Dhrel struggled with the hatred and fell to his knees trying to control it. Quickly he slipped it into his pocket so that it wasn't directly touching his skin and the feelings subsided.

Dhrel stumbled as he tried to get to his feet. He needed to make sure that Kriista was alright. When Dhrel turned to look where Kriista fell his view was blocked by Zorlen who was now standing five feet in front of him. In the back of the room he could hear Lascar's voice.

"Very good, my boy. Seems you have rid that wretched witch of her toy." Lascar's voice still reminded Dhrel of a snake hissing. "Now be a good grandson and give it to me."

"If you want it, come take it!" Dhrel spat back at his grandfather.

"Of course, I can't take it. But I bet he can," Lascar said motioning to Zorlen.

Zorlen threw a punch at Dhrel's head but Dhrel saw it coming and ducked. Dhrel was very glad at that moment that Kriista had insisted on continuing Gromthule's training exercises. Dhrel struck Zorlen in the side with his fist knocking the wind out of the unsuspecting man.

While Zorlen was trying to catch his breath Dhrel leapt over him and landed on the table. He located Kriista lying unconscious by the door on the other side of the stage. Zorlen swung at Dhrel again but the young king easily jumped over his arm before running to the edge of the table. When Dhrel got to the end of the table he jumped up and landed on the very edge, tossing the other end of the table up, smashing it into Zorlen's chin. Zorlen fell backward dazed but quickly got to his feet. By then it was too late, Dhrel had lifted Kriista off the floor and dashed out the side door.

Zorlen ran after them but as he reached the door Lascar raised his hand and slammed the door in his face.

"I can catch them. I'll get the key," Zorlen said fearing that Lascar would be angry with him. But when he turned Lascar wasn't angry, he actually had a sinister smile on his face. Like he knew a secret.

"I don't want you to catch them," Lascar replied.

"But they have the key," Zorlen pleaded.

"People don't keep playing a game if all they ever do is lose," Lascar said smiling wider.

"You knew I'd fail?" Zorlen asked confused.

"Yes," Lascar replied.

Zorlen didn't apologize and he quit arguing. Lascar wanted it to happen this way so he had nothing to be sorry for.

"What now grandfather?" Zorlen asked.

"Now that is the correct response. You are ten times the man your father ever hoped to be," Lascar exclaimed with contentment. "I knew you were the one. At this rate we may not need Dhrel much longer. You just need more training. Notice how there was no reaction when Dhrel hit you? Anyone else would have exploded with light, like the Governess did. You are the same as Dhrel."

Zorlen's face lit up with pride. This was just another test and he had passed.

At the back of the stage the Governess stumbled to her feet, holding her head. "What...where..." Then she saw Lascar and sheer panic covered her face. "GUARDS!"

Several scaldreth guards came in the huge front doors and stood looking around, not sure why their Governess was so frantic because of an old man. Lascar raised his hand out behind him and the huge doors slammed shut, crushing half of the guards. The rest of the guards ran at Lascar but before they could get close to him he waved his hand and they all flew back at the door.

The Governess began chanting another spell then thrust her hands forward at Zorlen. An invisible force collided with Zorlen knocking him towards Lascar.

"Well, I guess you're not able to absorb magic like Dhrel," Lascar said looking down at his grandson. "But I'm sure that means you have other talents he doesn't."

Lascar stuck out his hand to help Zorlen up. As soon as Zorlen had grabbed his hand Lascar lifted his grandson up with such force that Zorlen thought his arm might fall off.

"You are incredibly strong!" Zorlen exclaimed.

"Shh," Lascar said placing a finger to his lips.

Zorlen quieted his voice. "You don't want them to know how strong you are, do you?"

"And that's why you are ten times the man your father is. It took you two seconds to figure it out," Lascar smiled. "But that is a discussion for later, I have many things to teach you. For now I need to show you how to use that gift of yours."

Lascar then turned his attention to the Governess who was chanting again.

"You realize that language is a very old human language called Latin? It doesn't have any special powers. You could say any words you want and the same thing will happen," Lascar said as he slowly walked closer to her. "It's all in your head, magic I mean. It makes no difference what words you say, it's what you think that matters."

The Governess finished her chant and thrust her hands forward again. The invisible force collided with Lascar and he took a step back to steady himself.

"I may not be immune to magic like Dhrel, but I'm about one thousand times stronger than him," Lascar said with a laugh. "I seriously doubt your small mind could control the magic required to actually hurt me."

The Governess began chanting louder, sure that saying the spell louder would make it more powerful.

Lascar laughed at her attempts.

"You just don't get it do you? Let me show you," Lascar sneered as he raised his hand causing the Governess to be lifted off the ground.

"See, no words. It all happens up here," Lascar said as he pointed to his head. "Now where is that apprentice of yours?"

"I don't know," the Governess spat at Lascar.

"Yes, you do. But, that's ok, I'll find him." Lascar looked over the room carefully. He could feel the apprentice's magic but he couldn't quite figure out where it was coming from.

"Zorlen, do you feel the magic?" Lascar asked.

"Yes, I can feel it. I wasn't sure what it was at first but it's magic," Zorlen said surprised with himself.

"Find it, use your new gift and steal his magic," Lascar commanded.

"Yes, grandfather," Zorlen replied then began searching around the room. He could feel the magic, but it was like someone was trying to hide it.

"This should help," Lascar said turning back to the Governess. He began to squeeze his fist and the Governess struggled for breath.

"Yes, that's it! She is covering him! Her spell is getting weaker!" Zorlen exclaimed.

"Let me show you how it works first. This will make him easier to find as well," Lascar said motioning for Zorlen to join him.

When Zorlen had rejoined Lascar on the stage, the evil king placed his hand on the Governess's chest.

"You see thoughts are kept in the brain, in your head. Magic is in your heart. Your brain controls it, but magic comes from the core of your body," Lascar explained. Lascar concentrated on his hand over the Governess's heart and her chest began to glow. Lascar's eyes lit up with red energy as he drew the power from her.

The Governess screamed in agony as her life and magic were drained out of her. She tried to fight back with magic but it was as useless as a mouse struggling to free itself from a cat's mouth. In a few seconds her body fell to the floor, lifeless.

"It's not difficult, you just need to know where to draw the power from. If you don't draw it from the heart they might survive. And you wouldn't get any magic," Lascar explained.

"I sense him now. There he is!" Zorlen exclaimed pointing at one of the younger looking men in the room. Zorlen then walked over and did exactly as Lascar had done to the Governess, but where Lascar's eyes had turned red, Zorlen's were as black as night.

"Now that's a color I haven't seen before," Lascar pondered. "This is going to be interesting."

"What shall we do with the rest of these people?" Zorlen asked.

"How about you drain them all? I'll head back to camp, I want to check on Zephillia," Lascar replied. "And you need the practice."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Zorlen answered.

Everyone in the large room began screaming as Lascar walked to the large doors and flung them open with his mind. When he was on the other side of the doorway he turned back to give Zorlen one more order.

"None of them leave," Lascar commanded.

"I understand, grandfather," Zorlen replied with an evil smile, then Lascar slammed the doors and left Zorlen alone to his task.

# Chapter 26

When Zorlen returned to camp Lascar and Zephillia were sitting near the fire eating. At the edge of the camp Zorlen could see his father sitting alone eating his meal. Even in the nearly moonless sky he could tell that Sarthol was upset about something. Zorlen assumed that his father had yet another spat with Lascar but he wasn't about to ruin his otherwise great day by asking, so he grabbed a plate and sat down beside Zephillia to enjoy his meal. Zorlen had grown quite fond of Zephillia over the past few weeks. He had never known his real grandmother and his mother was nothing short of abusive.

Zorlen had been raised primarily by his mother. Sarthol was always gone, working on a job or scouting for some rich client. While Sarthol provided for them financially, he would only visit home once every few months. Zorlen's mother became bitter over the years and by the time Zorlen was fourteen his mother had turned from bitter to resentful. The nightly beatings from his drunk mother or whatever boyfriend she had brought home went on for years. It wasn't until Zorlen was seventeen that he finally stood up to her. Even at fourteen Zorlen could have easily killed his mother and whatever man she had brought home for the evening, but Zorlen kept making excuses for her. He would tell himself that she was dealing with things the only way she knew how, she would get better someday, or on many occasions he would convince himself that it was his fault.

A few days after his seventeenth birthday his mother came home with a particularly nasty man who insisted that Zorlen wait on them like a servant. Zorlen, still believing that it was his fault, served them and took the man's beatings in stride. But when his mother and the man began insulting Sarthol and comparing Zorlen to him, he lost it. Zorlen beat the man until he was nearly dead but refused to touch his mother. With fake tears, or maybe they were real, he wasn't sure, she begged him to forgive her and give her a second chance. Zorlen instead gathered his things from his room and gave her one final warning. If he ever heard from or saw her again he would beat her like she had beaten him for years.

In contrast, Zephillia was kind and generous when it came to Zorlen. She treated him with respect and love. At times Zorlen was worried that Lascar was jealous of all the attention she gave him. But Zephillia was quite perceptive and assured Zorlen that his grandfather knew it was a different kind of love she had for him. Zephillia had never known her only son Lastian and she detested Sarthol for his weakness and constant complaining, but Zorlen was like the grandson she had always wanted, even if he wasn't really hers.

When Zorlen was finished eating the deer Sarthol had hunted for them Zephillia took his plate along with Lascar's and stacked them in a pile with hers. In the morning she would do the dishes, but tonight was a night for celebration. Her adopted grandson had begun to embrace his new gifts.

"So, how did it go at the castle?" Zephillia asked.

Zorlen wasn't sure if she wanted to hear all the grizzly details. He was still somewhat skittish about admitting he murdered nearly twenty people.

"It went ok, I suppose," Zorlen said sheepishly.

"Ok? From what Lascar tells me, you are quite powerful," Zephillia beamed.

"Yes, I suppose so," Zorlen answered, still not quite comfortable talking about all the people he had just killed.

"Don't be so modest. Lascar tells me you drained about twenty people. The power must be surging through your body. I remember when I first realized I could drain life from people. It was an accident and I drained a man who was trying to rape me. The feeling of power was one thing but the fact that I had overpowered a man twice my size..." Zephillia trailed off in thought.

"How old were you?" Zorlen asked, he was beginning to feel more comfortable after hearing Zephillia's confession.

"Oh, I think I was sixteen?" Zephillia said looking at Lascar with a mischievous look on her face. "It was right after I met you, dear."

"Well I was sixteen..." Lascar responded.

Zorlen wasn't quite sure what to make of this conversation. He got the impression that he was missing some important detail, but neither of them was going to tell him.

"Well anyway," Zorlen continued growing more comfortable with what he had done and what he was. He was born this way, why should he be ashamed of who he was. Zephillia sure wasn't ashamed and neither was Lascar. "I felt like I could lift the whole castle off the ground with one hand."

"I know what you mean, sweetie. Sadly the feeling won't last long. Maybe a day or two. But, while it lasts you will be stronger than Dhrel and Kriista could ever hope to be," Zephillia said with a sneer. Even though Dhrel and Kriista were her actual grandchildren, she preferred Zorlen. "I'm getting worn out, I can't drain people in this body. Perhaps you and your grandfather can practice some other things before bed. He is a good teacher," Zephillia said as she smiled at Lascar.

"That's a good idea. You have proven yourself, to me and your grandmother. It's time I reward your efforts," Lascar said as he stood up. He then stuck out his hand and the staff half way across the camp flew to him.

Zorlen knew that Lascar hid his real powers around Dhrel and Kriista but how powerful was his grandfather really? Maybe he was about to find out.

Zorlen stood up and grabbed his sword from beside him, but before he could unsheathe it Lascar stopped him.

"We will use staves for this. Swords are nice, but a staff is faster and more elegant. It's not that a staff is better, but the skills you learn will help you with any weapon," Lascar explained as he walked out in to the open field beside the camp.

Zorlen put down his sword and as he followed Lascar he grabbed a staff. Once in the field with Lascar he noticed that his grandfather looked quite a bit younger. Maybe it was a trick of the dim moonlight, but Lascar appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Although Zorlen had never seen Lascar look that young, he had seen portraits of his grandfather in Stone's Rest.

Lascar raised his free hand and two trees, one on either end of the open field, caught fire. The field was illuminated and Zorlen could now see that Lascar was indeed much younger than he had been a few hours ago.

"You're trying to make them think you are older and weaker than you really are?" Zorlen asked.

Lascar laughed. "Like I said, no one plays a game if all they ever do is lose. It makes them think they have a chance."

"Is it hard to change your appearance?" Zorlen asked.

"Actually, yes, it was at first. Somehow your father does it without effort. Probably because his mother was a full blooded druid, but for me it took years to master," Lascar responded.

"So, do you think, Sarthol being my father and all. Do you think I could do it too?" Zorlen pondered.

"Maybe, I can try to show you how as well. What reason would you have to change how you look?" Lascar was curious. Zorlen had proven himself to be quite cunning. Perhaps Zorlen had an idea that might help him.

"Well, it's a lot easier to spy on people when you don't look like yourself," Zorlen responded.

Again Lascar was surprised. Zorlen was proving to be the most competent and loyal of all his offspring. Saying you were loyal was one thing, a person's actions were the real test.

"If only Lastian would have shown your enthusiasm," Lascar pondered. "But, I have you now, don't I? And you will become twice the man Lastian was."

Zorlen beamed with pride. Being compared to Sarthol was demeaning, being compared to Dhrel was a compliment, but being compared to Lastian was an honor. As far as anyone was concerned, Lastian was the best fighter the world had ever seen. Lastian had never been beaten in combat, in fact, whole armies had been known to turn and run if they found out Lastian was the general in charge of the army they were fighting against.

"So whose key was it that they took?" Zorlen asked.

"Well since you didn't seem to have a reaction to it, I'd say it was your father's," Lascar responded.

"How can you tell?" Zorlen questioned.

"If it had been your key, you would have known it. It would have called to you. A feeling you would have most definitely mentioned. And I have Kriista's key and Lastian's key. Raylee's key is in the prison at Katzack. And of course, Dhrel's key is the master key, which was not the key we saw," Lascar explained.

Lascar attacked with the staff and Zorlen blocked. Lascar was very quick and strong for a man his age. Zorlen nearly fell over from the power behind the blow.

"So, what is this master key?" Zorlen asked as he attacked Lascar with his staff. Three successive blows to different areas and Lascar blocked them all with ease.

"It looks similar to the other keys except it has long spikes where the others have holes. The keys fit on to these spikes and the key becomes whole," Lascar explained as he struck Zorlen on the shoulder. "Keep your guard up. Watch every opening."

"I've never seen you with Lastian's key. What happened to it?" Zorlen asked. He faked a blow to Lascar's leg then swung hard at his head but Lascar easily blocked both before sweeping Zorlen's legs out from under him.

"Lastian's key is right here," Lascar said standing over Zorlen. Out of his pocket he pulled out a key on a string. The string was attached to the belt on Lascar's waist. After showing Zorlen the key he returned it to his pocket and held out his hand to help his grandson up.

When Zorlen got to his feet he swung at Lascar's knees. Lascar quickly jumped over the staff and cracked his own down on Zorlen's back.

"Well done, any opportunity or distraction should be taken. Your opponent means to kill you, never forget that," Lascar said as he backed away from Zorlen.

At the edge of the field Lascar could see Sarthol watching them. He was very careful not to look directly at Sarthol. Apparently satisfied that they were sufficiently distracted, Sarthol moved quickly to the pack beside the fire. He carefully removed Kriista's key with a swatch of cloth, so that he did not directly touch it with his skin. He then put it in his pocket and snuck out of the camp.

Lascar grinned evilly and Zorlen mistook the grin as approval. Zorlen attacked again, swinging first at his grandfather's side, then at his feet. Then while Lascar was concentrating on the staff, Zorlen placed his other hand over Lascar's heart. Zorlen's eyes became black. Lascar easily threw Zorlen twenty feet away with one hand.

"Now now, no magic. This training is about staves. But, that was a good tactic. I have to give you points for that." Lascar was smiling, this time it really was an approving grin. His grandson was clever, sneaky and opportunistic. He would defiantly become better than Lastian with time.

"Your father has apparently taken it upon himself to return Kriista's key to her. Maybe he wants to trade for his own. I figured he would try something like this, hoped he wouldn't, but sadly I knew he would. I can't trust your father," Lascar said remorsefully.

"I'll catch him before he gets to Kriista!" Zorlen exclaimed. But as he started to run Lascar raised his hand and Zorlen stopped paralyzed. "But I can catch him."

"I'm sure you would catch him and return the key. But this provides us with an interesting opportunity," Lascar said as he put his hand on Zorlen's shoulder. "Kriista's key is nearly drained of power. It will take weeks to recharge, but Sarthol's key hasn't been activated yet. Not only can I get a fully charged key, but I can force another key open in the process."

Zorlen stared questioningly at Lascar.

"Let me explain," Lascar said as he walked with Zorlen back to the camp.

"The keys are activated when the right person touches them and they become immune to my magic. But, if the key is activated by one of my offspring and then they lose the key I can force the key to stay activated. It must be from one of my offspring and I can't take the key from them. They must lose it or put it down, or even just give it to me," Lascar explained.

"So you think father will give you his key? Maybe he's trying to help," Zorlen rationalized.

"No, sadly, your father means to use the key to protect himself from me. He seems to think that I want to kill him even though I've given him every opportunity to join me. I guess he will finally get his wish and I'll have to kill him." Lascar looked almost sad at the admission. The more Zorlen thought about it, the more he realized that the look was more like disappointment.

"I want to give him the chance to do the right thing first though. If that's alright?" Zorlen still held out hope that his father might change.

"Ok, I'll give him one more chance. If he comes back and offers me the key, all is forgiven," Lascar relented. "For now, let's work on your training some more. This time we'll use swords, since you are so fond of yours."

Lascar raised his hand and Zorlen's sword flew to his hand. The evil king tossed the sword to Zorlen and then headed back out to the field. After catching the sword Zorlen ran to catch up to his grandfather.

# Chapter 27

On the west side of the castle, about two or three miles out, Kriista and Dhrel were enjoying their meal for the evening as well. They were in good spirits, considering they actually recovered one of the keys. The rabbit Kriista had caught wasn't the best meal they had ever eaten but the situation made Dhrel's cooking taste even better. Night had set in and the stars shone brightly in the nearly moonless sky. The only illumination for miles was their campfire.

"I still can't believe we actually got one of the keys!" Kriista exclaimed with her mouth full of food.

"Keep this close to you, in your pocket or something," Dhrel responded, holding out the key to Kriista.

"No, you keep it. Lascar can't hurt you. And I can't touch it," Kriista explained.

"Ok, but I'm not going to touch it either. It makes me feel angry, like I want to kill everyone." Dhrel paused, thinking for a second. "You think that's what makes Lascar the way he is?"

"No, he was like this as long as anyone can remember. Since he killed his father, maybe before that," Kriista responded.

Something in the distance got Kriista's attention. She could hear someone attempting to sneak up on them.

Without turning her head she thought to Dhrel. "Someone is watching us."

"Can you tell who?" Dhrel asked with his thoughts.

"No, but they are trained," Kriista thought.

The figure drew closer, Kriista could tell the person was directly behind her. She leapt from her seat and flipped around, drawing her sword. As she spun around, the figure hit her sword hand with a precise strike causing her to release the sword.

"You really need to train more. If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead already," the figure said in a low gruff voice.

When the figure stepped closer to the fire, Kriista could see his face clearly. It was Sarthol.

"What do you want?!" Dhrel yelled as he quickly scrambled to grab his own sword.

"Not so fast," Sarthol said. Sarthol effortlessly drew the bow from his back and fired off an arrow, hitting Dhrel in the hand. "You have even less chance of beating me than your sister."

Dhrel pulled the arrow from his hand and stood up to face Sarthol. With speed Sarthol didn't expect, Dhrel held his hands out toward Sarthol and a bright blue beam of energy struck the thief in the chest. Sarthol flew backward striking a nearby tree and dropped his bow. To Dhrel's surprise, Sarthol didn't look scared or angry. Instead the thief stood up, dusted himself off and smiled.

"I stand corrected. You have abilities I didn't know about," Sarthol chuckled. Sarthol slowly walked to the fire and put his hands out to feel the warmth of the flame. Kriista and Dhrel stood ready to defend themselves if the thief tried anything again.

"So, what do you want?" Kriista asked Dhrel's question again.

After rubbing his hands together and pausing to build tension Sarthol finally answered. "I propose a trade."

"What kind of a trade?" Dhrel asked cautiously.

"I just happened to have Kriista's key, and you have my key," Sarthol stated. It was apparent that he wasn't afraid of them. He considered the offer a courtesy.

"And if we say no?" Kriista asked the obvious.

"I could have just stolen it and left you with no key, but I am more interested in messing up Lascar's plan. Which means I want to give you some information as well." Sarthol still spoke as though he was in charge.

"What kind of information?" Dhrel asked, trying to determine if Sarthol being here was just another piece to Lascar's plan.

"Smart boy. Your grandfather doesn't give you enough credit. He seems to think he has you completely fooled. But, I'd wager that you have at least some inclination that he let you steal the key," Sarthol smiled.

Dhrel felt so stupid at that moment. Of course Lascar let them have the key. He wasn't sure why, but something in the back of his mind told him it was too easy.

"That explains how we got away so easily," Kriista said. Apparently she had the same reservations about their easy victory.

"So why did he just let us have the key?" Dhrel asked. He was still unsure of Sarthol's honesty and intentions but what did he have to lose? Even if Sarthol lied and was there for some other purpose, they could still gather some much needed information about Lascar's plan.

"That I'm not sure of, but make no mistake. He let you have it. That happens to be my key, so you can't even use it. So, with that in mind I stole Kriista's key from Lascar in hopes that we can come to an arrangement." Sarthol still spoke with authority, but he was a con-man and con-men usually spoke like they knew everything in order to fool their marks. "I also know that you have my key in your right pocket. I can feel it, it's calling to me. Just like I'm sure Kriista knows exactly where I have her key." Sarthol then turned to face Kriista with a self-satisfied grin.

"Yes, it's in your boot," Kriista replied, pointing at his left foot.

"Good girl. So, what do you say?" Sarthol asked. "And don't go thinking you can get the key before I have the chance to run. I'm much faster than you." Sarthol then returned to facing Dhrel. "And even with your abilities, I'd bet that you can't catch me. You haven't trained very well either."

"Ok, say we do trade you. How do we know you will actually trade? You might just take them both," Kriista said. She still wasn't sure that Sarthol was telling the truth.

"My dear sweet niece. Like I said, I'm a thief, if I wanted both, you wouldn't have my key right now. I want to make sure Lascar's plan fails. So in the spirit of good will I'll give you the information first." Sarthol then sat down by the fire, unconcerned that Dhrel and Kriista were still ready to attack at any second.

"This all started, well what I can piece together says it started when Lastian was killed. Lascar inadvertently found Lastian's key when he killed Lastian. Well, it was in his pack, not really on him. Meela was carrying the pack at the time, so Lastian wasn't protected from Lascar's magic. I'm still not sure why Lastian didn't keep it on him. There must have been some reason Meela had the key, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it was. Anyway..."

Dhrel sat back down, still ready for some kind of trick, but this story caught his attention.

"So, Lascar gets one of the keys by accident and Lastian had activated it. Lascar accidentally grabbed the key while he was searching Lastian's pack for some journal he wanted. He was surprised that the key doesn't try to kill him. In fact he was somehow able to force the key to remain active. This gave Lascar an incredible amount of power, power he can then use to resurrect his dead wife. You see, resurrecting someone takes a huge amount of power, even more than Lascar could normally create."

Kriista sat down as well, the story was at least interesting, even if she wasn't sure how accurate it was.

"Ok, so Lascar has this key he found, resurrects his dead wife, boom, the key is drained. Now these keys regenerate power over time but Zephillia doesn't have that kind of time. She will die again unless Lascar gets another key quickly. So Lascar tricks you two fools into helping him find the next key. He steals that key from you, he has two regenerating sources of power. Then he tricks you two into coming here to find a third key. He hopes it's Zorlen's key but, as luck would have it, it's mine." Sarthol grinned like a kid who just found his parents stash of candy.

"He can't trust me enough to be sure I'd activate it and give it to him. He can't stop me if I activate it and run off. So what does he do? He lets you two have it. You get to think you win, and he gets time to figure out if he can use me to activate the key. Now for the good part. There are two more keys and a master key left. You know one of the keys is on the island of Marlok, I'd bet that is Zorlen's. But the one key left, the one that is on this continent, belongs to my daughter Raylee. I've heard that it currently resides in Katzack prison. Not an easy place to get into and even harder to get out of, but I'm sure you two will be able to handle it."

"What was that about a master key?" Kriista asked.

"I was getting to that my dear niece. The master key is special, it can only be touched by Dhrel. Lascar can't even go near the thing apparently. But once combined with the other five keys, it will become a thing of incredible power. How Lascar plans to use it and how he thinks he can touch it are beyond me. But, I'd wager you don't want to wait and find out. I have no information about the master key other than I know your father had it at one time. Somehow Lastian found a way to move it. It wasn't in the pack that Lascar found so I'm not really sure where it could be. I'd guess he hid it somewhere you would find it. My brother knew that these keys were important, Lascar wanted them so we wanted to make sure our father couldn't get them."

"If you and Lastian tried to stop Lascar, why all this? Why did you kill Godrich? Why poison your brother?" Dhrel asked.

"Oh, well, you see, Lascar had me over a barrel, so to speak. I needed to do what he wanted to save Zorlen. Lascar was going to kill him. But, I convinced him that I would stop trying to undermine his plan and instead help him if he let Zorlen live."

"How does any of that mean you had to kill Godrich, your brother's boyfriend?" Dhrel asked again with more emphasis.

"Adopted brother, and it was either kill Lethian or Godrich. Those were Lascar's orders. I chose Godrich. That doesn't justify what I did, but I'm also not going to apologize for saving my son or my adopted brother." Sarthol didn't even show a single sign of remorse. In his mind killing an innocent man was perfectly acceptable to save his son, who was far from innocent.

"So I gave you the information I know, use it how you will. Here is Kriista's key." Sarthol reached down his boot leg and pulled out the key with a cloth covering it. After handing it to Kriista he turned to stare at Dhrel. "And my key?"

Dhrel wasn't sure this was a good idea, but having a key they could use was better than having a key they couldn't. What's more, if Sarthol really was trying to stop Lascar's plan, they had an ally. Not the most reliable ally, but someone working toward the same goal at least. With some reluctance he reached in his pocket and handed the key to Sarthol.

Sarthol quickly unwrapped the key and placed it in his palm. Sarthol's eyes began glowing red like Lascar's. After a few seconds of what appeared to be a mental struggle, Sarthol's eyes returned to normal and he put the key in his pocket.

"Well that was unpleasant, but necessary. I'll leave you two to your mission. I need to try to get my son away from Lascar." Sarthol didn't waste a second, he stood up, collected his bow and took off into the forest.

"Wait! Why was it unpleasant?" Kriista yelled after him.

Sarthol stopped and turned. He seemed compelled to share his story with someone.

"I saw my grandson killed by Lascar. A mistake I can never undo. It was my fault, although Lascar tricked me into doing it, I let him trick me. If you see Raylee, tell her I'm sorry. I never meant for her child to die. I actually thought Lascar was going to help him. What a fool." Sarthol's somber tone turned authoritative and boastful once more. "Well, good luck. I truly hope we never see each other again."

Kriista sat once again with her hands folded. She wondered what had happened to Sarthol, he seemed like he might have been a good person once. She also wished that they would never see each other again, but perhaps it was for different reasons.

# Chapter 28

Kriista sat by the fire staring at the key in her hands. She had her key back, but now what? The power coming from the key felt very weak. Sarthol was telling the truth about Lascar draining the keys. And she could feel the key trying to recharge, so he was also telling the truth about that. How much of Sarthol's tale was the truth?

"You're doing it again. You need to remember to close your mind after we have a mental conversation," Dhrel said with a grin.

"Sorry, but I wasn't trying to keep if from you anyway," Kriista said still deep in thought.

"And to answer your questions, Sarthol seemed to be telling the truth. I got no sense of deception whatsoever. Although I did get the impression that he left some parts out," Dhrel concluded.

"You can use your emotion reading again?" Kriista asked.

"To tell the truth it comes and goes. Ever since we got to Brizen all my powers are very, umm, what's the word?" Dhrel struggled.

"Sporadic?" Kriista asked.

"Yes, that's close. It's not just that it comes and goes, the intensity of it fluctuates. But anyway, Sarthol was telling the truth as he saw it. So.."

"We should head to Katzack prison," Kriista interrupted.

"Yes, but first we have to figure out where it is," Dhrel finished.

"Well Sarthol motioned to the North West, so I guess we could walk that way until we find a town and ask for directions," Kriista surmised.

"I suppose that's our only option at this point. I'm not about to go back to Gojeth when I can't control my powers. At least your strength is constant," the young king proclaimed.

"Well, now that you mention it, my strength has been acting the same way as your powers. I just wasn't sure I should mention it," Kriista said somewhat embarrassed.

"You know, you can trust me. I'm your brother, whatever is on your mind, just talk to me," Dhrel said in a caring voice.

"Well there is this one thing," Kriista said with a serious face.

"What, you can tell me anything." Dhrel was worried now, it must be serious if Kriista was afraid to speak about it.

"Well..." Kriista fidgeted in her seat a little.

"It can't be that bad," Dhrel probed.

"You need a bath." Kriista couldn't take it anymore and nearly fell over backward laughing.

"Oh ha ha, very funny." Dhrel looked annoyed, but at the same time Kriista could see a slight smile coming on. "You could use one too." As Dhrel said this he grabbed the water jug from beside him and dumped it on Kriista's head.

Kriista stood straight up, the ice cold water shocking her. She grabbed the jug and splashed it in Dhrel's face, then the two of them laughed at the site of each other.

"Well, in the morning we'll be needing some more water," Dhrel said controlling his laugher.

"Maybe we can find somewhere to bathe as well." Kriista was not as good at containing her laughter as her brother. She hadn't laughed like this in a long time, she didn't want to stop. But as she looked down at the log she was sitting on, her laugher did stop. She had dropped her key again.

"I need to attach that key to me somehow. I don't want to lose it again." Kriista wrinkled her forehead while she thought of how exactly to attach it.

"The holes. Maybe a necklace?" Dhrel asked, calming down some.

"No, a belt buckle. It's a bit large to be a necklace." Kriista flipped the key over in her hand inspecting it thoroughly.

"That should work. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm wide awake now. Shall we start cleaning up and head toward Katzack?" Dhrel asked.

"Sure, let's get going. We can at least walk til we get tired." Kriista began packing up her stuff while holding her key in her right hand. "Definitely a belt buckle. I can't carry this in my hand all the time."

After a few minutes the two of them had everything in their packs once more. They had no idea how far Katzack was but surely they would meet someone if they just kept going. And perhaps this someone might give them directions. For the first time in a while they felt as if they knew what was going on. They had a reason to go to Katzack. They had a clear idea as to how they could mess up Lascar's plan. They needed to find Raylee and give her the key that was meant for her. Raylee sounded like someone who would gladly help them stop Lascar's plan.

# Chapter 29

Sarthol crept slowly back to camp. Lascar and Zorlen were still training in the field beside their campsite. Sarthol had been gone for hours, how could they still be training? A few more hours and it would be morning, Lascar was pushing Zorlen too hard. Sarthol remembered being trained like this when he was a teenager. Lastian was usually off on scouting missions for their father and Sarthol being the only one left in Stone's Rest, became Lascar's focus. At that time Sarthol had blamed Lastian's absence for the mistreatment, but as the years went on he realized his brother was getting a different kind of abuse. Being forced to scour the world for some artifacts that Lascar needed, never being allowed to have a life, and being criticized and punished every time he came home with bad news. And as bad as he and Lastian had it, from all accounts, Kriista had it the worst. Sarthol wasn't going to let Zorlen suffer like they did.

Once he reached the edge of the field, Sarthol stood straight up and walked out to confront Lascar.

"Lascar, Zorlen and I are leaving! We're done with your schemes and tricks! Your big plans are done!" Sarthol pulled the key from his pocket and held it up like a shield.

Lascar lowered his hands and started walking toward Sarthol.

"I see you have your key, well done. Despite your outburst, I'm willing to let it slide, if you hand it over," Lascar said calmly as he approached his son.

"Never! Zorlen, get behind me. He can't hurt us when I have the key." Sarthol motioned to Zorlen and Zorlen obeyed. "I just have one question before we leave. Why did you have to kill Raylee's child, my grandchild? What could have possibly been so dangerous about a newborn?" Sarthol was angry, he had never had the courage to confront his father about this subject, but the key gave him new confidence.

"I never realized you felt so strongly about this." Lascar put his hands behind his back.

"Just answer the question," Sarthol commanded.

"He would have been like Dhrel and it was way too early to have someone like Dhrel around. I wasn't prepared to deal with someone like that yet. And to tell the truth I wanted to kill Dhrel too, but Lastian hid him quite well. By the time I found Dhrel it was too late, the boy had powers already." Lascar kept his hands behind his back and paced slightly.

Sarthol saw something in Lascar's eyes every time he said Dhrel's name. Sarthol had never seen his father afraid of anyone, but this was real fear. Dhrel was strong enough to hurt Lascar.

"You're afraid of Dhrel. He is as powerful as you are isn't he?" Sarthol questioned, still keeping the key in front of himself as a shield.

Lascar laughed loudly, startling Sarthol.

"Well, he could be. But I've taken careful precautions to keep his powers in check. I killed his wife, which caused him to have to start over. Then brought him here, closer to the machine." Lascar laughed again and Sarthol got worried.

"Why does that matter?" Sarthol asked even though he felt an uneasy sense that Lascar was up to something.

"The closer to the machine you are, the less you can use your powers. It took me years practicing on this continent to overcome the weakness you feel here. And the closer we get to the machine the harder it will be for Dhrel to use his powers." Lascar quit pacing and took a step toward Sarthol, still holding his hands behind his back.

Sarthol grasped the key tighter. "Not so fast!" Sarthol yelled, pushing the key closer to Lascar.

"Well, it's decision time, my boy. Hand over the key now and I'll forget this ever happened. Run and you only delay the inevitable. I'll get the key eventually and kill you for your betrayal." Lascar seemed oddly confident.

"No, I think I'll take my chances. Zorlen, get your things, let's head back to Lascaria," Sarthol commanded and turned to face his son.

Zorlen was waiting for his father to turn, then plunged his short blade through Sarthol's heart. At the same time he used his left hand to grab the key.

"You shouldn't be able to do that," Sarthol gasped as he looked down at the short blade in his chest. "Why?"

"I'm not a coward like you. Grandfather and I will rule the world," Zorlen said with cruelty on his face.

Zorlen threw the key to Lascar who caught it gracefully with one hand. As Sarthol slipped into unconsciousness Lascar struggled with the key, forcing it to remain active.

"Nicely done Zorlen, now would you like to learn how to kill one of our kind?" Lascar asked with an evil smile.

"Yes!" Zorlen responded emphatically.

"Powers you drain from one of our kind you keep permanently. It's not like the weak mages," Lascar sneered as he walked closer to his unconscious son.

"You should do it, Zephillia needs you to be stronger." Zorlen removed the short blade from Sarthol's chest and spun his body around to face Lascar.

"I have plenty of power to keep Zephillia alive until this is finished. You just gave me another key to drain. But you have proven yourself more worthy and more loyal than any of my offspring. You deserve a reward for all your hard work. You will need it to face Dhrel." Lascar's smile grew wider and more sinister as he spoke.

"So my father was right, Dhrel is a threat," Zorlen stated.

"Yes, not to me yet, but you will need more power to deal with him." Lascar put the key in his pocket and took a step back to observe. "Pull his heart out of his body. Thrust your hand through his chest, just under the ribs and grab it."

Zorlen did as Lascar instructed. When Sarthol's heart was out Zorlen let go of the body and a lifeless Sarthol fell to the ground. Sarthol's heart shone brightly in the darkness. It was glowing red and pulsing.

"You see our kind is different than the other races. If the heart is allowed to live, the person will eventually come back to life. All the power, the soul if you will, is contained in there." Lascar pointed at the heart in Zorlen's hand. "Now drain it like you did the mages."

Zorlen began concentrating on the heart, feeling its power flow into him. Claws began to emerge from his fingertips and black scales ran down his arm. Within a few seconds his entire body was covered in black scales and his eyes turned black as night. He opened his mouth to yell as the power surged through his body and his teeth had been replaced with razor sharp fangs. He began to take on the look of one of the guardians only different. Lascar had never seen a guardian with scales, an obvious improvement.

As quickly as Zorlen changed, he reverted back to himself. The heart in his hand crumbled to dust as he fell to his knees, reeling with the new power that flowed through his body.

"Good, you are a quick student," Lascar commented.

When Zorlen had caught his breath he stood up again. He had many questions for his grandfather.

"When you say our kind, what do you mean?" Zorlen asked.

"That is a loaded question, my boy." Lascar rubbed the stubble on his chin, trying to figure out a way to put it that would make sense to his new apprentice. "We come from a very powerful race, the guardians, for lack of a better term. You see we could not pronounce their actual name, but guardian is a good translation. Also we go beyond guardians because we are also, at least partially, druid as well. Druids are distant relations to the guardians. Some believe that hundreds of thousands of years ago the druids and guardians were the same race, but the druids came here to live while the guardians pursued technologies to take over worlds."

Lascar began pacing, as he usually did when he was trying to think and speak at the same time.

"You see when druid blood and guardian blood merge, in a child, it creates something much more powerful than the original races. Guardians and druids, they both have the same..." Lascar paced faster trying to come up with the word he wanted. "Oddity, I guess you would call it an oddity. Their hearts can survive if the body dies, thus resurrecting the body, under the right conditions. We, being both, are even stronger. We can drain the essence, the soul, from the heart and absorb the power. Making us the ultimate race."

Lascar decided that his new apprentice was worthy of even more truth than he had ever divulged to any of his offspring.

"I wasn't sure you were very strong. I mean your mother was human, a mage, but still a human mage. There must be something to combining the three races that produces even more power. I'm half human mage, one fourth guardian and one fourth druid myself. There must be something to it." Lascar pondered as he paced even faster.

"My mother wasn't a mage, she was a drunk," Zorlen scowled at the mention of his mother.

"She was a mage once, you only knew her after she had lost herself. But I met her when she was younger. Sarthol, of course, never knew of this. I met her when she was pregnant with you. I decided that I would take a chance on you. Dhrel on the other hand is more druid than human, Kriista, more human than the other two..." Lascar stopped pacing. His mind was working furiously trying to figure out the link.

"It makes no sense, there is no rhyme or reason to the amount of power we possess. There must be other factors that I'm not seeing, or there is always the possibility it is completely random." Lascar was now speaking more to himself than Zorlen, but Zorlen was attentively listening just the same.

"It actually can't have anything to do with the parents, it must then... Yes, it must be the machine. The machine is the other factor. It does things to humans, sometimes completely random things, or at least I think they are random. So if you have any human blood at all, the effect it has on us is multiplied, magnified. But you must first have guardian and druid blood, something to multiply. Because multiplying nothing results in nothing. Yes, that must be the other factor." Lascar trailed off and began walking toward the camp. Zorlen followed trying to listen to his grandfather's musings.

"If I had realized this sooner, I could have made the perfect apprentice centuries ago. But, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth. Pure randomness and dumb luck provided me with exactly what I've needed for so long." Lascar turned to Zorlen and began addressing him again. "Well, as luck would have it, we found each other anyway. Despite the overwhelming odds, I have found my perfect apprentice and you a dedicated teacher. The things we will do, my boy, the world will never be the same."

A sinister grin came over Zorlen's face, his teeth still looked sharper than normal and his eyes still had a hint of the blackness. Even his skin still had a shimmer about it, as if his scales were just below the surface. Draining his father had changed Zorlen permanently.

"Yes, grandfather, I'm ready to learn."

Be sure to check out part 3, Lascaria – The Prisoner Queen.

Want to know when my new books are coming out? Sign up for my mailing list to receive a head's up when my books will go live.

If you enjoy my work please leave me a review. I appreciate the feedback and enjoy hearing from my readers whether it be compliments, suggestions or criticisms.

You can also check me out on twitter @StevenSterupJr or on my website at www.StevenSterupJr.com.

Asuune Series Book 1

Curse of the Asuune

Mark Albet is thrust into a world of vampires and angels as he struggles to understand the reason behind his wife's murder. While Mark struggles in his new reality he gets help from his longtime friend, Sarah. Mark's feelings for Sarah grow and become confusing as she attempts to prepare him for life as an Asuune, an immortal half-angel, in their fight against vampires. Mark's love for Sarah can never be revealed to her because each Asuune only gets one true love and Sarah already knows who hers is. If Sarah already knows who her love is then why does she insist on making Mark's life more difficult by teasing him with sexual advances and innuendo?

Kathrine Albet, Mark's daughter, must find her place in the Asuune world to help her father find and rescue Sarah. After accidentally stumbling across this strange world of vampires and angels, Kathrine comes to realize that this new reality is exactly where she truly belongs. While helping her father she meets her true love, Paul, only to find out that this alluring man is helping the vampires. With the help of her new Asuune friends, Kathrine strikes out to find out what kind of man Paul really is and if his feelings for her are the same.

Asuune Series Book 2

Deception of the Asuune

The conclusion to Curse of the Asuune.

Kathrine Albet longs to have a peaceful life with the mysterious and ancient Asuune, Paul even though she can never have the thing she secretly wants the most, a child. Despite this desire she finds herself at the center of a devious scheme to destroy humanity. Left with no choice, Kathrine accepts the help of her family in preparing for the fight of her life. It seems that every evil being wants Kathrine's loyalty or death. What makes her so important?

 Demonic Temptations - Incubus Tormented

The first two stories in the Demonic Temptations series in one book.

Incubus Tormented

Shawn has a rare disease that causes insanity in the women he is involved with. Sometimes it takes months, others, only hours. A mysterious letter leads him to a doctor that has a rare disease herself. Dr. Lisa is amazing and very understanding of his problem. If he didn't annoy her so much they just might be able to have something resembling a relationship. Neither of them can have sex so it would be the perfect match.

Lisa specializes in rare diseases and even has one of her own. The men she has sex with get sick and eventually die. She had it under control but something has changed recently, possibly because she hasn't had sex in years. The images in her head won't stop and she feels like she is going insane. The worst part is that they are about Shawn, her best friend and patient. Every time he is in the room she can barely keep her hands off him. Is this the result of his disease or hers, maybe both?

Succubus Forgotten

Samantha breaks her rule of only helping half-demons when Ceralin's older brother Thomas needs her special kind of help. However, this isn't the only reason. Cassandra, the woman Thomas will need to rescue, isn't just any demon.

Thomas is tricked into helping a lost girl who reminds him of his sweet little sister, Ceralin, whom he abandoned millennia ago. His guilt forces him to help the frail redhead Cassandra but that isn't the reason he can't leave her. Thomas knows he will abandon Cassandra just like he did his sister. Can Thomas overcome his greatest enemy to keep Cassandra safe? Even if her greatest threat is himself?

Lascaria Series Book 1

Lascaria - Evil Reborn

The evil king Lascar ruled over Lascaria with an iron hand for nearly 1000 years. His mysterious disappearance and absence for the last 50 years has allowed the people of Lascaria peace and prosperity. When his son Lastian has a child, the evil king returns to reclaim his throne and his kingdom. What is so special about his grandson, Dhrel?

Dhrel wants a simple life with his family but his grandfather, the evil king Lascar, has other plans for his grandson. As Dhrel and his family try to escape the evil king they begin to realize that Lascar has another agenda entirely. Will they figure out his plan before it's too late? Dhrel must learn to control his magic to defend his family from the evil king.

Kriista, the daughter of the evil king Lascar has always been a faithful supporter of her father. Recent events and actions by her father have put everything she knew into question. Is her father really evil or the misunderstood monarch that she has always believed? He has always been strict but since his sudden return he has become paranoid and sees conspiracies where there are none. Perhaps everything she believed in was a lie.

Lascaria Series Book 2

Lascaria – Sins of the Ancestors

After the loss of their loved ones, Kriista and Dhrel struggle to comprehend Lascar's true plan. With Zephillia's resurrection Lascar appears to have won, but there is more to it than Dhrel and Kriista realize. They need to figure out what is really going on before it is too late. What else does the evil king have planned for them? Can they stop him before they end up like everyone else that dared defy the evil king Lascar?

Lascaria Series Book 3

Lascaria – The Prisoner Queen

Kriista and Dhrel continue on their journey to stop their evil grandfather. As Zorlen's power continues to grow they realize that they will need help defeating Lascar and Zorlen. With this in mind they set off to find their cousin Raylee who is in Katzack prison. Raylee, the oldest living offspring of Lascar, might be their last hope for defeating the evil king.

Lascaria Series Book 4

Lascaria – The Legend of Lascar (Coming Soon)

Witness the events that led to Lascar becoming an evil tyrant, hell bent on destruction. Discover the story behind the evil king as Dhrel reveals what he has learned from his father's research. Explore Lascar's youth, from his time as a young boy with a cruel king for a father, through the devastating loss of the only person he ever cared about. After reading this harrowing tale of love, betrayal and loss see if you can answer the question that has never been definitively answered. Was Lascar born evil, did circumstances make him evil or did he choose evil?

Lascaria Series Book 5

Lascaria – The Shadow King

The exciting conclusion to the Lascaria series.

When Kriista went missing eleven years ago Dhrel was left caring for Lexianna, her daughter. He was forced to accept the one thing he never wanted, responsibility. Now that Lascar is breaking free from his prison Dhrel must put his plan into action, ready or not. The first order of business is finding Kriista. His sister is a huge part of his plan to defeat his evil grandfather once and for all. Dhrel's plan and his life fall apart as his niece discovers who and what they all really are. Can Dhrel recover or is his grandfather destined to rule over Lascaria once again?

Morven's Legacy Book 1

The Fire Maiden's Desire

The sexy redhead Rachel is cursed to give birth to a demon that will devour her and destroy the world. Her only hope is a mysterious man she can't find. A new prediction from a strange old woman leads her to believe that her sidekick Jack may be her best hope at finding this man. The only problem is that Jack is the man of her dreams. Can she resist her desires for the handsome thief long enough to survive her curse? Perhaps one night with the stunning Jack is worth dying for.

Jack Craylet has a problem. He is in love with his best friend, the curvaceous, fiery haired Rachel. He'd follow her to hell and back, maybe even die for her but she doesn't know he exists. He has no clue why she insists on traveling around the kingdom nor what she's really looking for but the secretive maiden has his loyalty. Even when she seems smitten with another man he can't help doing everything in his power to make sure she is happy.

Morven's Legacy Book 2

To Seduce a Sorceress

Daniel Jahl has a plan to kill the evil wizard Morven, the man who murdered his parents. All he has to do is seduce the wizard's granddaughter and convince her to let him in to Moven's magically guarded castle. Daniel has seduced hundreds of women, this should be simple, but none of his previous conquests were anything like Lydia. As Daniel discovers everything he knows about Morven might be a lie he must face his greatest fear. Has he seduced and betrayed the one woman he might actually be able to love? If he tells her the truth will she ever be able to forgive him?

Raven's Embrace

Fawn, although most people know her by her code name Raven, is one of the best assassins in the world. When she takes on a very lucrative job to kidnap, then kill the prince, she realizes that the bumbling fool isn't the cruel womanizer she's been led to believe. She thought assassins were deceptive, nobles and royals are worse. Can she find her way through this web of lies before it is too late? Despite his roguish charm and possible innocence, she has a job to do and Raven always kills her mark.

When Alexander Kurts, the prince of Selenthal, wakes up in a prison cell, he is surprised to find out that the most beautiful woman he's ever seen has kidnapped him. While trying to find a way out of his situation he comes to realize that she is even more deadly than she is beautiful. Someone wants him dead and this gorgeous assassin might be his only hope for survival. If he could only figure out why she seems to detest him he might just get out of this.

Raven's Gamble

The sexy assassin, Raven, returns in the exciting conclusion to Raven's Embrace.

Fawns's perfect life with her husband King Alexander Kurts and their new daughter Ella has to be put on hold as she is forced to resume her former identity, Raven, in order to protect everyone she loves. The original plot to have Alex killed may have been foiled but the person behind it is still out there. Fawn needs to navigate a maze of deception and lies to find out who really wants Alex dead but that doesn't mean she can't spend a little time playing matchmaker for Sebastian Fox. This man, possibly one of her closest friends, puts his life on the line every day to protect her husband and daughter, he deserves to be happy as well.

The Order of Human Purity Book 1

Kiss of the Lamia

Seven years ago Oliver Holduff's life was ruined on prom night. Although the horrible accident killed his date instantly Oliver escaped without a scratch. On the same night, Oliver's one and only friend, Chelsea Bauer and her date disappeared without a trace. The horrible pain Oliver has lived with since the accident starts to fade the moment Chelsea mysteriously returns to ask him for a favor. She's not the same awkward, teenage girl but she's still Chelsea. Of course Oliver would drop everything to help her find out who murdered her father, even if it was her.

