 
### The Greylands: Volume IV

### Susan Skylark

Copyright 2013 Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Revised 2019

### Author's Note: each story is unique to itself and is not related in any way to any other work, character, or world by this author.

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

Table of Contents:

The Sundrake

All the Hopes of Men

Other books by this author

Sample Chapters

The Sundrake:

Kipril stared off into the sunset, enjoying the furious colors as the bright orb settled reluctantly into the Sea. He sighed wistfully and turned his back on the breathtaking scene, wending his way home. His weird whistles were answered by the high-pitched, musical voices of his master's small flock of Sea Drakes, winging their eager way towards the cave-riddled sea cliff where they sheltered at night and during the violent storms that often battered the Western coast of Almaria, the largest island in the great archipelago nation of Vesper. The slave boy's main duty was as drakekeeper to his master's little breeding flock. He it was that oversaw every aspect of their keeping, breeding, training, and sale. The creatures obediently settled into their cliff-side caverns for the night with a cacophony of hisses, whistles, and screeches as they disputed over favorite roosting spots. Kipril smiled in amusement, seeing in his mind the minor fracas that commenced in the caves below between his beloved creatures. He stopped briefly in the ramshackle shed to unload his gear and then entered the crumbling cottage that perched precariously on the verge of the cliff, wherein waited his master and supper.

Darfer was an aging, stoic man who greeted the boy with a grunt as he finished setting the table for supper. He had never married, had never wished to; he had no living relatives and no close friends. He lived alone, save for the boy, but slaves were not considered company. The boy quietly reported that nothing of great interest had occurred that day amongst the breeding flock or with the fledglings he was training. Darfer grunted in reply as he sat in his accustomed spot beside the fire while the boy pulled up a stool on the far end of the table. They did not speak all through the simple meal or during the few hours that remained before bed. The boy busied himself with mending some of his equipment while the man smoked his pipe and stared into the fire. Once the fire had burned itself down to barely glowing coals, the man found his grimy bed while the boy ascended into the loft and lay down on the heather-stuffed mattress that was his bed. In the morning, a silent breakfast was eaten and then each immediately set about his daily chores. The boy went out to his drakes and the man busied himself about the homestead with the various chores necessary to existence. Such was their simple life and so it continued, day after day, year after year.

The boy was lonely, but he hardly knew it, for his whole life he had known only the old man, the drakes, and the Sea. He enjoyed his quiet life and neither expected nor dreamed of any other. He was good at what he did and therein he was content. The small breeding flock was stirring as he emerged from the little hut and whistled for his charges. The day was just beginning to grow warmer and they were reluctant to emerge from their roosts into the damp and yet chill dawn, but hunger drove them out into the morning with eager squawks of greeting for their Keeper. They hovered eagerly near the edge of the cliff until he had accounted for each one and then he motioned for them to head out to sea to fish for their daily meal. The creatures bugled in excitement and were soon lost to sight.

Kipril whistled again, but this time in a very different manner and an eager, though cracking croon answered his call. An ancient drake flapped laboriously up from his cave and perched on the edge of the cliff, keening in pleasure as the boy scratched his head. The boy mounted the aged creature, which soon followed the others out to Sea. The flock had found a great school of fish teeming not far from the coast and were eagerly bobbing and diving in pursuit of their favorite prey. Kipril's beast settled on the edge of the area where the flock hunted and floated along like a great duck, contenting himself with occasionally snapping at a frightened fish that tried to flee his voracious conspecifics.

Their hunger sated, Kipril whistled again, and with a contented roar, all of the creatures were soon aloft and winging their way towards the warm beach where they would bask for several hours during the heat of the day. The flock settled contentedly on the beach; the boy inspected each of the creatures, noting one of the females was showing early signs of heat, but otherwise they all seemed happy and healthy. He left them to their basking and approached a cave on the far side of the beach. From within came eager screeches and whistles; the fledglings were hungry and eager for the warmth of the sun. Kipril whistled and the creatures grew silent, this was the last brood hatched and though young, they already knew what was expected before they were fed. They could not yet fly and fed by scavenging on the beach or fishing in the shallows. Kipril took them out, one at a time, and worked on various lessons as they foraged. Once satiated, they lounged on the beach with their elders, though well out of reach of the possibly aggressive adults. So passed the day, as the sun set, Kipril whistled them home once more.

As they sat over their silent evening meal, a knock came at the door. The old man continued to eat while the boy quickly rose and answered the summons. A lean young man in the livery of some great lord stood outside in the dark. Said he without preamble, "is this the house of Darfer, the Drakekeeper?"

"It is," said the boy, trying to hide his eagerness at this potential customer; he loved nothing more than exhibiting his drakes to an appreciative audience, "won't you come in?"

The man continued, "have you any beasts for sale?"

The boy nodded, "we have a clutch that is two months old and coming along well with basic training; they will be ready to begin more advanced training before very long and flying soon after that."

The man looked disappointed, "have you nothing rideable?"

The boy shook his head, "we have only the breeding flock which is not trained. Our sole riding beast is too old and feeble for much beyond our morning fishing forays."

The man looked truly saddened, "a pity, for it is said you have the best beasts anywhere in Vesper, but my master is looking for a creature able to carry a rider. I thank you for your trouble." He turned and walked away into the darkness as Kipril shut the door slowly after him. Darfer only grunted in irritation and continued eating. The boy sighed and returned to his own meal though he now had little heart for his food.

Vesper was a prosperous and peaceful Kingdom, so far away from anywhere else in the world that it was little troubled by outsiders. There were no mammals native to the archipelago, but a variety of strange reptilian creatures were discovered there by the first pioneers, brave or foolish enough to land on those shores back in the dim mists of time. The voyage from the nearest outpost of civilization was long and arduous, not to mention dangerous with the great storms that often battered the coast, travelers were glad to reach the islands themselves, let alone hoping to bring any domestic stock safely through the treacherous journey. So it was that the native fauna was domesticated and adapted for use by the burgeoning civilization. The Sea Drakes were a lithe, winged reptile with long neck and tail, large and strong enough to carry a grown man aloft. They were quite useful for medium to long distance travel, as well as travel between the islands. For shorter distances, there was a bipedal, long-legged beast called a Runner. A heavy quadruped was used for draught purposes and a variety of smaller beasts of various type were used for hunting, farm work, guarding the homestead, sending messages, and companionship. There was even a subspecies of the draught beast that grazed the vast meadows of the island which was found both in domestic and wild forms, the former provided a source of meat and hides while the latter was a favorite of hunters, both peasant and noble alike.

Slaves were quite common in those days, but they were far better treated than many of their class in other lands and times. Most were slaves by birth, necessity, or reduced to such status by unpaid debt or as punishment for some crime. One could be born into slavery yet one could also buy his freedom or be freed by a generous master or the King. Those who could not take care of themselves, at least the able bodied, often ended up in such straits, especially orphans with no one to take them in; such was the case with Kipril. His unnamed mother had left him on the doorstep of Darfer's forsaken cottage as a small child; the man had taken the lad in, but refusing to adopt him as a son, took him on as a slave. The boy had little hope of ever freeing himself, but perhaps when his master grew old or died, he would become master of the wretched cottage and the small flock of drakes and thereby become a free man. But this was all in the very distant future and nothing the lad thought of on a regular basis, ever were his thoughts busy with his drakes and their training.

The days passed in their steady plod, the fledglings grew and learned, the female was bred and the clutch layed, and the boy looked eagerly forward to their hatching. He had seen many a hatchling struggle forth from the leathery shell of its prison, but each new hatching never ceased to be a source of boundless pleasure and joy. The female layed her eggs in the sand of that warm beach, but well away from the raging tide and her clumsy flock mates. Ever she lay near them, turning them when they grew too warm or cold, guarding them from any harm. She would not leave her nest until they had hatched and then the little ones would be on their own, at least they would have been had not Kipril ever been watching over them and anticipating the day of their hatching. Finally, on a cold, damp morning after a tempestuous storm, the little ones began whistling in their shells and breaking forth with a vengeance. The female, content that she had done her duty by her offspring, headed out to sea for a much needed feeding, leaving her brood to the whims of nature or rather the care of the faithful Drakekeeper.

He waited patiently, as each wet and wriggling creature broke free of its shell. They were ravenous little beasts and eagerly consumed the food he offered them, thus gentling them to humans in their first impressionable hours. Eight of the little creatures had broken loose and the final egg was rocking violently until suddenly the beast was free and Kipril's heart froze in his chest. The others were all of varying shades of blue and green, like the sea, but this little creature was colored as the sunset, all in gold and deepest orange. He stared in wonder, never in all his years amongst the drakes had he ever seen or heard of anything like this! But this was no time for astonishment, the little one had to be fed. Once satiated, the sleepy hatchlings were easy enough to pick up and deposit in the safety of a special pen at the back of the cavern the fledglings inhabited. The curious older brood squawked and chirruped at this strange interruption to their usual schedule; they were starting to leap into the air and would soon be a-wing, Kipril hoped to have sold the lot of them before then, because after they could fly they were a great deal more work and he would already have his hands full with this new hatch.

He finished his chores as the sun was setting, whistled up his flock, and headed for home with his strange news for old Darfer. He entered the hut as usual, met by the same indifferent grunt, and then told of the hatching and the bizarre young drake.

Darfer froze, and for the first time in remembrance, the man spoke, "what did you say?" Kipril repeated what he had said and the man said aghast, "are you sure?" The boy gave the man an affronted stare, as the old man continued, "this cannot be! There are legends...but they are legends! Not prone to happen in our drab lives."

He snatched up a lantern, and ordered the boy to follow, as he dashed out of the hut and down to the seaside cave. The younglings squawked in surprise and annoyance to be disturbed at such an hour but Darfer paid them no heed as he stared in wonder at the new brood. There, curled up amongst her drab siblings, was the legendary Sundrake. He hastened the boy back to the house and there confronted him, "have you any idea what this means?" The boy shook his head in confusion and the old man considered for a moment that Kipril's education had been solely in his hands and he had never told him the old stories.

He motioned for the boy to sit on his stool before the dying fire as he paced the room, saying, "legend tells of such a creature, legend nearly as old as Vesper. When our forefathers landed on these shores, an old prophet washed ashore in a decrepit little boat, the sole survivor of a tragic shipwreck. He did not live long after his rescue, but before he died, he foretold that such a creature would one day appear and when it did, we must prepare ourselves, for a great darkness would soon overshadow us and destroy us utterly if we were not ready. He said that the beast and its master would be the key to victory. We must get word to the King!" He looked grimly at the boy, "I am too old for such a journey, you must take the old beast and make your way to the capital city of Versa."

The boy was both eager for such an adventure but also fearful that all his careful work would come to naught in his absence. The old man scoffed a laugh, "fear not for your precious drakes! I can manage in your stead, remember who it was that taught you in the first place." The boy was quite relieved and after a quick supper, went straight to bed that he might be away first thing in the morning.

Just as the sky began to pearl with the first hints of dawn, Kipril whistled up his ancient beast, which snarled in irritation to be wakened well before his usual hour, but he came forth regardless. He flew the old beast out to sea and let him dine on a reasonable number of fish, not letting him gorge or he would be too stuffed to fly far. Once the beast was fed, they stopped briefly to collect what the boy would need for his trip, and then they were soon away. The beast was eager at first to see new lands beneath his wings, but with each passing hour his strength waned, each stroke of his great wings became more difficult, and as he weakened, his pace slowed and he lost height, until at last he was nearly skimming the trees, which forced the distraught boy to urge the creature to land.

It was certainly an ungainly landing but not quite a crash, but the boy knew the beast was unlikely ever to fly again. His heart ached, for he was quite fond of the old fellow but his mind raced, trying to discern a way to complete his urgent errand without his faithful companion. The noise of their landing must have disturbed the local residents, for a number of them came running to see what all the ruckus was about. They stared in wonder, few had ever seen a Sea Drake this close before. They were common enough overhead, but few were found this far inland unless their masters had some errand in the area, which was unlikely, considering the neighborhood.

A man in his middle years approached the terrified boy, who had never seen so many people in his life, though they numbered less than a dozen souls. The man was the local innkeeper and he knew a thing or two about beasts; he knew as well as the boy that this weary creature would never again tread the paths of the sky. The boy was nearly desperate to continue on his way, but his ragged appearance spoke of his poverty and his inability to procure the resources necessary for such a journey. Said the man gently to the cringing boy, "easy lad, can we be of assistance?" Tears filled the boy's eyes as he shook his head, though whether of grief or frustration, the man was unsure. Asked the man, "what brings you all the way from the coast with so ancient a creature?"

The boy squeaked, "I must reach the King, my master set me a vital errand and now I will never reach the capital."

The Innkeeper said thoughtfully, "your beast is done lad, and it would seem your journey too, but I will tell you what. Give me your beast, I'll salvage what I can from him. His hide at least would be worth something. In exchange, I'll loan you one of my runners to make your journey on, and you can stay at the inn and have a bit to eat both tonight and on your return. What say you?"

The boy was stunned, he had never anticipated anything like kindness in the wilds of civilization nor did he like the idea of selling what very nearly was his dearest friend for the price of his hide, but the creature was certainly in distress and there was no other way he would ever finish the journey afoot. He nodded grimly, the innkeeper motioned for one of his serving girls to take charge of the boy, and he and several of the menfolk would see to ending the creature's misery. With a last, pathetic look at the broken creature, the boy followed the kindly woman into the inn.

His first night in a real bed would have been quite refreshing had he not spent the whole time thinking about what was yet to come; his reeling mind left little time or chance for sleep. Having something besides fish stew morning, noon, and night also was a novel experience. He stretched, yawned, and went down to speak with the innkeeper about what was to come. He greeted the boy warmly, saw that he got some breakfast, and went about finishing his morning chores while the boy ate. Once the boy was sated, the innkeeper brought out an old map, but the boy only stared at it in incomprehension. The man shook his head in exasperation at whoever had so severely neglected the boy's education and then sent him on such an errand alone. He briefly explained maps and their use and pointed out the best way to reach Versa. The boy was used to seeing things from the air so easily caught on to the concept. The innkeeper then took him out to the stableyard, showed him how to handle and care for a runner, and then saw that he had enough food and supplies to get him to Versa and back.

Kipril stuttered in wonder, "I thank you sir for you kindness!" Never in all his years of faithful service had his master been half so generous as this stranger. He climbed aback the squatting beast, urged it to stand, and the next moment they were running down the road at a quick clip. Kipril much preferred the freedom of the air, but there was a sense of speed and recklessness one felt aback such a steed that for a time, he simply enjoyed the exhilaration of the ride.

They rode on until there was barely light to see, stopping occasionally to water and rest the beast as the innkeeper had instructed him, but otherwise pushing the beast as fast as he could go over such a distance. Kipril tethered the beast near the wooded edge of a meadow where it could hunt for mice, insects, and small birds amongst the brush. There were no native mammals in Vesper, but rodents had come ashore with their unwitting human chauffeurs. Kipril crawled beneath a bush and was soon fast asleep. Morning found him wet with dew and stiff from his unaccustomed ride. He stretched, ate something out of his saddlebags, tended to the beast, and was soon on his way. The ritual continued for several days until they reached the great city of Versa one bright midday.

Kipril gawked about him in wonder, never having dreamed of such architecture or so many people, though the complexity and number of both had increased exponentially as they neared the center of civilization in the archipelago. But his bucolic eyes had never seen nor dreamed of such a sight. The runner was reduced to a slow plod as they found themselves caught in the thronging streets of the crowded city. Their destination was obvious, as the great castle towered over everything. They reached the gates of the castle and the boy thought to ride straight through, but the guards crossed their weapons in front of him, blocking his way. He looked at the men with such pleading and desperate eyes, they nearly let him pass simply out of pity, but they had their orders.

Said the senior officer posted there, "you cannot just ride in and see the King lad."

The boy said in a barely audible whisper, "but I must, sir! I bear dire news and my master has bid me tell the King."

The guard shook his head sadly and said, "off with you lad, the King cannot be disturbed, even for such portentous tidings as you no doubt bear."

The boy frowned, wondering whether the man was taunting him or simply trying to assuage his feelings. He decided on the latter, as there was only pity in the man's tone. Kipril nodded dully and turned his runner to go. "Hold on a moment lad," came a voice scratchy with age, "perhaps we can be of use to one another." The boy glanced about and found the source of the voice: an old man in deep blue robes shuffled over and peered up at him with smiling eyes full of wisdom and kindness. The boy's disappointment turned to curiosity as a small grin graced his lips; he nodded his eagerness. The man took the reins of the runner and led him off to a small inn where they could talk undisturbed.

After procuring a loaf of bread and a bit of nameless stew, they sat quietly as the boy ate ravenously. Once his hunger was satisfied, the man began, "you seem to have dire news you would tell the King yet you cannot gain an audience, peasant that you are?"

The boy sighed, "less than even a peasant sir, for you speak with a slave."

The man shrugged, "what is that to me? You are still human, no less so for your meager social status. Pray, continue."

The boy brightened at this and said, "I thought only to broach this matter to the King, but I feel perhaps I can trust you sir."

The man nodded, "what shall pass between us shall remain secret, save if you would have me tell his Majesty the King, for I happen to have his ear from time to time."

The boy seemed to melt with relief, but soon his excitement to share his news made him burst forth, "it is about the Sundrake!"

The man frowned, "what about it lad? We all know the legends, but men have been watching and dreading its advent for centuries, all to no avail."

The boy shivered at the gravity in the man's voice, "but it has come."

The man paled in fear and then said eagerly, "can this be true?"

The boy nodded vigorously, "we had a clutch hatch several days ago and one of the hatchlings is colored like the sunset. Could it be anything else?"

The man shook his head in astonishment, "it must be so lad, but we must be very cautious in who hears of this. There are many who would use this event for their own gain and would be most ready to kill for it."

The boy shivered and asked, "what do I do?"

The man, Ubert by name, said thoughtfully, "we had best get you and this miraculous hatchling somewhere safe and secure, where it can be hidden until the time is right to make this known to the world. You go back to your master and tell him you have delivered your message and the King will soon enough take the matter into consideration. I will follow not long after and see if I can convince your master to give you and the creature into my keeping, that we may secret you both away until the appointed time. Then, after all is safe, and only then, will I broach the matter to the King and thereafter we will act as we must."

The boy frowned, "why not take this matter to the King first?"

The man smiled, for the boy had a sharp mind, "lad, there is more at work here than the King's will. He is surrounded by many servants, nobles, and advisors, many of whom are unreliable and would love nothing better than to spread gossip of such an event, and there are undoubtedly some of a treacherous nature who would stop at nothing to claim the beast for themselves. Even the King, perhaps might act in a manner unworthy of his position and thereby endanger all of Vesper. No, it is best we take this privately to the King only after all is safe and secure, so that if we are betrayed, the creature not fall into the wrong hands." The boy nodded his agreement, wondering if men could truly be so vile as to endanger Vesper's future for their own profit. He shivered and knew that they could.

The boy mounted his runner and rode swiftly back to the inn it called home. Ubert went about his own preparations, wondering if this boy guessed anything of the strange adventure that was about to befall him and all Vesper. The boy returned the weary beast to its owner, rested for the night, and began the long journey home, afoot. What had taken a day to fly would take four days to walk. Darfer was in a furious mood when the boy finally returned from a journey that should have taken three days but he had been gone for ten, especially when he returned on foot when he had set out on a drake. Besides the boy's tardiness, there had been a great storm, which prevented the beasts from feeding from the Sea for three days. The adults could manage, but the younglings had to be fed, which meant Darfer had to spend money to feed the ravenous creatures. The older brood was nearly ready to fly and therefore quite troublesome, but the new hatch was presenting a different problem.

The creature for which they had gone to so much trouble was no longer the color of a sunset but of a stormy sea. Not only had its fabulous color disappeared, but it was quite fierce with Darfer when he dared go near it and had already killed three of its clutch mates. The wretched creature had cost him dear, legend or no. So when the boy returned late and without any encouraging word from the King, he was nearly mad with rage. "If I had a buyer this minute," stormed he, "I would get rid of you and that lizard both!"

"How much?" came the unexpected query.

Darfer's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in avarice, "thirty pieces of silver and you can have the pair."

The cloaked man said thoughtfully, "it is a steep price for a troublesome, uneducated slave and a vicious Sea Drake, but perhaps there is some hope for the miserable creatures, with proper training. Sold."

Darfer laughed eagerly, finally his luck had changed. The stranger counted out his money and gave it to the aged Drakekeeper, who then motioned for them both to follow him down the path that led to the cave wherein the young drakes laired. Darfer entered the cavern first, then the stranger, and Kipril brought up the rear, doing his best to hide his eagerness; he knew the stranger to be Ubert, yet he also knew it would only make trouble for the man if Darfer knew he wanted to go with the stranger, so he tried his best to look grim and terrified. Darfer held his lantern aloft and showed what was left of the clutch to his curious customer. The aged Drakekeeper muttered darkly when he saw another dead drake in the pen, but the Sundrake had again taken on its wondrous color and crooned excitedly upon sighting the boy. Darfer cautiously reached in to grab the creature, but she snapped and slashed at the offending hand, which he quickly withdrew as she drew blood.

Ubert suggested, "let the boy try."

Darfer laughed darkly, "better she chew his hide than mine."

Kipril quickly reached into the little enclosure and the creature eagerly perched on his arm, keening happily. Darfer shook his head, "I have never seen the like! The creatures recognize their keepers but never have I heard of a beast that would not let itself be touched, save by certain persons!" He turned grim eyes on the stranger, "you had best take them both and go, before the wretched thing causes me more grief." They turned and silently left the cave.

They walked silently up the path and away from the beach, the cliff, the caves, and the wretched hovel that seemed ready to plunge headlong into the Sea. They walked until they were well out of sight of what Kipril had once called home, and then the man turned suddenly off the ancient path and onto an overgrown trail that led into a little copse. Once inside the little wood, Ubert drew back his hood and shared an excited smile with the boy, then looked curiously at the wondrous creature that had wrapped itself around his neck and was sleeping contentedly on his shoulders. Ubert shook his head, "it must certainly be legend come to life lad. I have bought your freedom and that of the beast; now what will you do?"

The boy gaped, "I am free?"

The man laughed deeply, "yes lad, you are free to go where you will, but you are also responsible for what could well be the fate of Vesper and all her people."

The boy paled, "what am I to do?"

The man said, "I would suggest you come with me. I know a place where the creature can be well tended and you can get an education. I do not know what this creature's future will be, but we had better prepare as best we can for whatever may come."

The boy nodded eagerly, "I would like that very much. Free!" He frowned in concern as a new thought occurred to him, "but the Sundrake? What will come of her? Must I part from her?"

The man shook his head, "this is destiny lad, fate. It cannot be escaped or defied. What must be, will be, and we must do our best to see that things turn out as they were meant to. For now, it seems none but you can control the creature, but who knows what will be the will of the King or the drake or yourself? The future is rarely revealed to such as ourselves. All we know is the creature has a destiny, but only time will tell what that is. Come."

They emerged on the far side of the little wood and found a Sea Drake squatting in the meadow, ready to leap into the air. Kipril looked upon the creature with a professional eye and thought it quite a splendid specimen, easily strong enough to carry the slight man and himself. They mounted the beast and it took silently to the air. The boy said in surprise, "what cues do you use? Mine obey certain whistles."

The man laughed for sheer joy, "we have an understanding lad. He knows what I wish him to do and it is his joy to do it." The boy frowned, not understanding, but he had so much else to ponder that the man's strange comments were soon lost to other thoughts. They flew off silently towards the north. Full dark fell, but the drake seemed to know where he was going even so and flew on.

The boy finally spoke after hours of silent thought, "where are we going?"

The man said, "we will be leaving this great island of yours and reach a small isle directly north where stands an ancient castle, half falling to ruin but it suits our needs. The face of the cliff on which it perches is riddled with caves enough to house a hundred drakes. The castle is inhabited by those known as the Keepers and their pupils. It is a desolate island, often battered by sea and storm. It is rocky, steep, and difficult to build or grow anything anywhere on the island. The currents and shore are such that no boat can safely get ashore so it is only reached by drake. It is the perfect place to get you an education and see to the well-being of your hatchling, until the appointed time." The boy smiled eagerly but his expression was lost in the utter dark of the night about them.

He must have fallen asleep, for the rising sun was well above the Sea as they circled in to land. Beneath them towered a crumbling castle, perched like an ungainly bird on a high cliff, at whose feet the Sea dashed itself recklessly, vainly trying to bring the great edifice down. It was a fairly small island, he could see coastline on three sides while the forth was hidden by a rise of rocky ground. The creature landed, the pair dismounted, and the man led the boy towards what once had been the gates of the castle but which ever gaped open in disrepair. Here there were no guards to bar the way and they entered without difficulty or challenge.

"Ubert!" came a surprised voice as they came to a stop within the courtyard, "I had not expected to see you until our annual council." The speaker, a man in his middle years, draped in a worn blue robe much like Ubert's, continued, "I see you have brought a new student?"

Ubert smiled warmly, saying, "Grim, I had not anticipated such a visit myself, but it seems my plans have been interrupted by legend."

Grim glanced once more at the boy as Ubert spoke and gasped upon recognizing what was coiled about the boy's shoulders. The little drake cocked her head at his stare and cooed what sounded like a question. This comic reply broke the silence and the three shared a laugh. "Can it be the Sundrake?" gasped Grim, "And if so, what is it doing here?"

Ubert shook his head, "I do not know what else to do. Here she will be safe until we can figure out what to do with her. The lad seems to be the only person she will tolerate; he is in desperate need of an education as well. I will return to the King and apprise him of the situation. Will you see to our guests?"

Grim smiled and said, "by all means. Will you be staying long?"

Ubert shook his head, "only long enough to rest and feed my drake, and myself. As soon as we are flight worthy, I shall return to my post." Ubert turned to the boy, "you will be safe here lad and have the chance to learn whatever it is your heart desires. I will send word when I know anything. Farewell."

The boy gazed after the retreating figure as he went to tend to his beast, feeling suddenly alone for the first time in his life. But Grim slapped him on the back and said jovially, "come lad, you and your drake could probably use some breakfast."

The boy nodded eagerly and followed the man deeper into the castle. He was soon seated at a great table, enjoying a plain but hearty breakfast while the drake perched on his shoulder and ravenously engulfed the tidbits of meat he offered her. Grim watched the pair in amusement until a noise down the hall drew his attention as the rest of the occupants of the castle made their way to the kitchen for their portion of the morning meal. There were four men besides Grim, all in their middle years or older and seven boys ranging in age from twelve to seventeen. They all stared in wonder at this enigma in their usually dull kitchen. Kipril shrunk under their scrutiny and his uneasiness caused the drake to squawk in alarm.

Grim crossed his arms and said sternly, "this is Kipril, he is a new student and his curious charge is also to be entrusted to our keeping, at least for now. I expect each of you to welcome him into our little community and also to keep the presence of this rather unique creature an absolute secret." They nodded their agreement and the man smiled, "I thought as much. Eat up lads!" With that, they eagerly took their places at the table and ravenously attacked their breakfast.

Once rested, Ubert and his drake returned to Versa. The beast dropped him in a field outside of the great city and he bid it return to whatever sea cliff it haunted when he was not in need of its services. It roared a farewell and soon vanished from sight. He quickly made his way into the city to apprise the King of all that had come to pass. The guards at the gate knew him well and only nodded curtly in greeting as he passed. He hastened to find one of the King's personal servants that he might ask after an audience with the man at his earliest convenience.

He could have saved his breath, for a servant suddenly came running towards him, out of breath with haste. "Lord Ubert," said he, "the King desires your presence immediately. He has been in desperate need of your counsel for some time and he feared some fell fate had befallen you. Hurry, sir!" The servant then dashed off, assuming the man would follow with all haste, and so he did.

The King was in his throne room, pacing the floor when they entered. He looked up in astonishment and relief before it was replaced with a slight frown of annoyance. "Ubert!" said he, "Where in Vesper have you been? I have been nearly mad with worry for I am in desperate need of your aid." The servant bowed himself out and closed the door firmly behind him, leaving the two alone.

Ubert bowed, saying, "I am sorry Majesty, but a matter of great importance was brought to my attention and I was forced to act in haste without asking your leave to be absent. Forgive my tardiness Highness. How may I aid you?"

The King shook his head, "I hardly know, but let us both be seated that we may discuss this matter in relative comfort." They seated themselves and the King continued, "a man calling himself the Seer came to me a few days ago. He said that a dire threat was coming upon my Kingdom and we must prepare ourselves with no mention of when, what, or how. I demanded he tell me more, but he only laughed at me and said as he went, 'it matters little, for when the time comes, there can be no defense. I shall see to that.' He laughed like a madman and vanished from the castle. I want to call it all madness or vain threats, but somehow I know him to be sincere. It would not be so bad, but I feel he looks forward to this coming nightmare, whatever it is. That is why I am in such desperate need of your counsel. For you, of all my advisors and counselors, are perhaps the only one who understands these matters."

Ubert looked grimly at the King, "he is not among the Keepers, Majesty and therefore if his visions be true, they stem from a source dark and terrible. But he is correct, that we shall see tumultuous times in the days to come. The errand from which I have just returned is one out of legend. I have seen the Sundrake!"

The King gasped, "it cannot be true, but it must be so! What are we to do? Is the creature safe? It cannot fall into the wrong hands. Who is to master the beast and lead us to victory?"

"Good questions all, Sire," said Ubert, "but I have few answers at the moment. The beast hatched not many days ago, so it shall be nearly a year before it is capable of carrying a man. I have secreted the creature and its keeper away in a place where they are unlikely to be discovered unless a search is made for the creature. Besides ourselves, and the boy who tends the Sundrake, there is only one who knows the beast even exists."

The King frowned, "we had best contain that fellow as well, lest he start rumors and people start looking for the creature." He sighed, "now how to find the man destined to save Vesper?" He thought quietly for a few moments and then brightened as an idea came to him, "what if we offer the beast as the prize in a grand contest to test the skill of every eligible warrior in Vesper? It will be a grand exhibition and also draw men experienced in the ways of war together, perhaps this will be the foundation of our army?"

Ubert shook his head, "I do not think that such a good idea Majesty, at least not until the creature is large enough to bear a man. I think this hero will make himself known to us at the appropriate time."

The King frowned, not liking to give up his grand idea, but he contented himself in saying, "very well, your hero has until the beast is big enough to bear a man to make himself known, but if he does not appear by then, we shall have our little contest." Ubert shook his head but could not gainsay the King any more in this matter. He went out to write to his comrades in the crumbling castle of what had come to pass while the King arranged for Darfer to be brought to Versa for a consultation.

Grim received Ubert's message two days later, borne thither by one of the little winged reptiles, almost a miniature drake, that were kept as household pets and used to deliver messages to distant parts of the realm. So they had a year. He sighed and called the boy to him. Kipril came running and Grim told him of how matters stood. Kipril nodded grimly saying, "I will learn as much as I can, but do you think I could learn enough of the arts of war to compete in this contest?"

The man shook his head, "nay lad, the competitors will have studied the sword since birth. You would only get yourself killed. If you are to ride the beast, I do not think it likely that you need win her in such a contest. It is far more imperative that you learn how to read, write, reason, and the like."

The boy sighed in some disappointment, "I am not to learn the sword?"

Grim laughed, "you can learn the basics lad, but only after your other lessons are done for the day. There are much more important things in life than using a sword."

A thought suddenly occurred to the boy, "Ubert called the folk that inhabit this old castle 'the Keepers.' What is it you keep?"

Grim smiled, "it is about time you asked. Our full title is 'Keepers of Lore and Knowledge.' It is our job to maintain the ancient wisdom, legends, and lore, to interpret it, and pass it on to others that it not be forgotten and that civilization not fall into despotism or chaos. Learn the legends lad, take them to heart, and you are well on your way to being called wise."

Theirs was a simple life of learning and meditation. They raised all their own food and did what was necessary to maintain their simple lifestyle, but otherwise they dedicated themselves fully to understanding, interpreting, preserving, and disseminating the knowledge that was committed to their care. Kipril found himself fully enthralled by all they could teach him and his knowledge and skills increased at an astounding pace. Had it not been for the Sundrake, he could have spent the rest of his life doing nothing but learning all there was to know. But such was not to be, for he alone could feed, tend, and train the stubborn but beautiful creature. She would tolerate others in his presence, but none could approach her when Kipril was absent without risking injury.

But neither was it the Keepers' duty to spend their lives in isolated study. Once the students had learned what they must and had bound themselves to the cause, they were then expected to go out into the world and pass on what they had learned, to be of use to their fellow men. Such wisdom did little good if it simply remained in the head of a hermit who never again ventured forth from his retreat. Those few that remained permanently in the castle acted as teachers to the students and spent much of their time preserving or copying the ancient scrolls entrusted to them. None learned simply to please himself.

A year passed all too quickly and the would-be hero had not presented himself, nor had the boy shown himself to be a natural warrior with any hope of winning the forthcoming contest. There seemed nothing to do but take his beloved Sundrake to Versa and there let fate decide who was to master the wondrous beast and save the Kingdom. The King had sent several servants and a small contingent of soldiers to seek out Darfer and bring him back to Versa, willingly if possible. They found the hut on the edge of the Sea, the door gaping wildly and creaking forlornly in the wind, but no sign was found of the man. A search of the surrounding area revealed only the empty cave that once housed the hatchlings and the breeding flock still going about their daily routine with no drakekeeper to mind them. They shook their heads in wonder and returned to Versa. They never discovered what came of the man.

Two days after he was rid of the boy, a great storm battered the coast and above the roar, Darfer heard someone pounding on his door. He opened it to find a man darkly cloaked, standing on his doorstep. Hopeful that it was a customer caught in the tempest, he motioned for the man to enter his humble abode. The man did not stir as the storm raged about him, but snarled over the wind, "I seek the Sundrake. Know you anything of it?"

Darfer stuttered in terror, not liking the feel of this man in the least, "the Sundrake? What would I have to do with such a thing?"

The dark caller sneered, "the time has come for the beast to appear. It must be hatched somewhere, as likely in a brood of yours as another's. Well?"

Darfer trembled, "I sold the beast, it was wreaking havoc amongst my stock. I had no choice. I do not know the name or even the face of the man who took it." The fiend hissed something dreadful and a ball of black flame shot from his hand, utterly consuming the miserable drakekeeper. He turned in fury and disappeared into the tempestuous night.

The day was set for the great contest and spectators and competitors appeared from all parts of Vesper, for never had such a spectacle been held! Nor had such an exciting or epic prize been offered. The Sundrake! The winner was assured to become a legend himself; guaranteed to acquire boundless glory, wealth, and fame. Obviously, such a destiny belonged to the best warrior in Vesper. Three months before the anticipated contest, the King had made his announcement and the Kingdom went wild with rumor and dreams, forgetting that the advent of such a creature held dire consequences for the Kingdom, or so legend said. They assumed the darkness was already overthrown and forgot it was yet to come. The Keepers tried valiantly, but the people were so caught up in their own theories and dreams, that no one listened to the truth of the matter.

On the day of the spectacle, Kipril climbed aback the beautiful beast and Grim stood at his stirrup, saying, "well lad, today is the day. Fear not, things will turn out as they should. We have kept the faith and now the future lies in greater hands than ours. The Master knows what He is about lad, even if we cannot fathom it. Trust everything to Him, and you need fear nothing. Give Ubert my greetings." The boy smiled weakly, said a silent prayer, and urged the beast skyward. She leapt into the air and trumpeted her eagerness to be a-wing. She was a glorious sight to behold: the color of a riotous sunset and twice the size of a normal drake. Grim watched until they were out of sight and then returned to his duties, wondering what the day would bring.

The advent of the Sundrake on the great fields outside the city caused quite a stir as all strained and jostled to get a closer glimpse of the fabled creature. Kipril had her land near the dais of the King, in a special area warded by a host of the King's Guards. Ubert hurried to meet the discouraged boy as he dismounted from the glorious beast. There were tears in the boy's eyes as his old friend approached, he said quietly, "I do not wish to lose her."

Ubert shook his head, "but she was never ours to keep. She must go to whomever is fated to save Vesper. We have done our part in raising and protecting her, now it is just as much our duty to pass her on to whomever our Master has appointed for this great task."

Kipril sighed in resignation, "I know, it is just hard to let her go."

Ubert smiled in commiseration, "only in letting go can we ever truly keep something."

Kipril frowned in confusion at this strange statement but after contemplating it awhile, he came to understand that nothing on this earth lasts forever and only in being willing to give something up, knowing it is ours only for a time, can we ever truly come to possess those things that will last through all eternity. He smiled weakly, "this is a strange time for a theology lesson."

Ubert laughed, "there is never a wrong time to learn more of our Master, lad."

The boy laughed then in contentment, "she was only ever on loan to me, that I now understand. Even this life I call my own, does not truly belong to me. Every breath, every action, pleasure, sorrow, and thought is but a passing thing, and nothing we can claim as our own, save to use each moment for our Master's glory, thereby it truly will last forever."

Ubert smiled, "you have learned much in the course of a year." The boy smiled broadly at the compliment but his reply was cut short as the King approached.

Ubert and the boy bowed, but the King did not notice as his attention was completely consumed by the wondrous creature before him. He then turned to the boy and asked, "can you let her go lad?"

The boy said quietly, "it was my part to raise her Sire, it will be another's duty to see that her destiny is fulfilled. Once I thought to compete for her, but I am no warrior."

The King said to Ubert, "he is a good lad."

The Keeper only nodded in agreement. The King motioned to his herald, who announced the beginning of the contest and the assembled crowds cheered. So it was begun. There were various contests of martial skill over the course of the next three days, but from the start, there seemed to be only one man who would triumph. The rules of the contest were such that the combatants were not encouraged to kill one another, but Grath left a trail of dead and dying men in his wake. He was a tall, broad man with skill unequalled by any who dared face him. By the end of the contest, several of those who should have competed against him simply withdrew in terror, leaving him the undisputed champion. He strode forward, bowed minimally to the King, and said in triumph, "I have come for my prize, Majesty."

The King sighed reluctantly, perhaps this was a bad idea after all. The man was an impressive warrior but his arrogance dwarfed the Sundrake before him. The King ordered, "so it must be." At his command, the warding guards drew back and allowed the man to approach the fabled Sundrake.

The creature looked down at the brazen man as he approached and hissed in agitation. Her scales took on the hue of a stormy sea and she shifted nervously, as if unsure how to act. Kipril tried to dash to her side, but Ubert whispered with a slight smile, "not yet. Providence may yet triumph over our haughty assumptions of how things should work themselves out."

The man boldly continued his approach and the beast tossed its head in warning, she unfurled her great wings and spread them in agitation. Anyone who knew anything of drakes would have paused before approaching the obviously perturbed creature, but Grath ignored her unease and drew ever closer. He audaciously put a hand on her side. She shrieked at this impertinence and leapt into the air, hovering just above his astonished head. In his heart, Kipril wished the beast to calm herself. She obeyed. Kipril stared in wonder as a knowing smile grew on Ubert's face. The drake landed some distance from the trespasser, her agitation decreased, and her color returned to normal. She tucked her head beneath her wing and seemed to be on the verge of a nap.

Grath smiled avariciously, "that is better, beast! Know that your true master has come."

The man made to draw nigh unto her once more, but Kipril ordered her aloft. She obeyed without protest. The thwarted man stared in fury while the boy wore a look of pure wonder. Ubert said with a quiet smile, "now you have it lad. She's yours after all!"

The boy paled, "I am no warrior! How am I to save Vesper?"

Ubert replied, "trust that to our Master as well." His tone turned grim, "the better question is how to break the news to our brutish victor?"

As the beast continued to cavort in the air, Grath's mood became fouler by the moment. Finally, he stormed up to the King and demanded, "what is wrong with this wretched drake? Never have I seen a beast act so!"

The King said in consternation, "that you must ask of the one who trained her."

The man stalked towards Ubert and the boy, demanding, "what have you done to this beast? You have ruined her and all Vesper will fall into ruin because of it."

Ubert made to stand between the enraged man and the boy, but Kipril stood forth and quite calmly asserted, "she was never meant for your brutal use, Sir. She is not ruined, but simply knows you are not her true master. Observe."

No whistles or hand gestures were any longer needed, for somehow he could now control her simply by thinking what he wanted her to do and she gladly did it. She landed happily beside the boy, which enraged the man to the point of violence. He lunged at the boy but the creature sensed his intentions and forced herself between them, snarling a dire warning.

Cowed, the man backed away but promised in a loud voice, "I will have the creature, boy! You have not seen the last of me!" A dark figure watched from the shadows and smiled in anticipation; his plans were coming together beautifully.

The wind lashed the rain and sea into a fury, lightning flashed, and the sea and thunder roared; the sky was black as pitch and it was a wretched night to be abroad. Three days after the events in Versa, two rain battered travelers appeared at the gates of the Keeper's crumbling castle.

Kipril and the Sundrake had returned after the tumultuous events of the day, he intended to continue his education until they could discern what next was to be done. The entire Kingdom was quite astonished at the upset and tongues wagged day and night as all and sundry tried to explain what had happened and what was to come. That such a monumental task should fall to a former slave, a mere boy, was beyond comprehension. Kipril fled before more decisive action could be taken; he needed time to discover his destiny.

There was no one about as the strangers entered the castle proper, due to the weather and the time of day. They had all gathered in the kitchen for the evening meal and were unaware of the visitors. A boy dashed suddenly across the courtyard and stopped in wonder to see strangers in the keep at all, especially in such weather. He had been sent to fetch something that was needed for supper, but his task was completely forgotten upon sighting the strangers. "Could I help you?" asked the tentative boy.

"I hope so," sneered the shorter of the pair, "have the Sundrake and its master returned?"

The boy shuddered, "Sundrake?"

The man laughed darkly, "do not trifle with me boy, I know the thing lairs somewhere hereabouts. You will tell me where or cease to be." He brandished a dagger for emphasis.

The boy quaked in terror, whimpering, "please sir, I have no wish to die. I will show you where the beast lurks."

"And its master?" came the grim question.

The boy quailed, "Kipril is tending to it this very moment."

"And the rest of your companions?" sneered the man.

The boy went to his knees in terror, "at supper, completely unawares."

The man smiled wickedly, "good, then remain here with my companion and your life will be spared, if you continue to cooperate."

He marched off through the gloom and stalked into the kitchen, where every eye looked upon him in terror; they knew to their very souls that they looked upon death this night and that it would be the last thing they ever saw. The intruder drew his sword and slaughtered them like sheep. Five minutes later he emerged, laughing cruelly, "lead us to the Sundrake and its thrice cursed keeper." The boy gazed in terror upon the man's bloody sword and swallowed hard, as the man snarled, "lead on or you shall join your friends in death's cold embrace!" A wail of terror escaped the boy as he dashed out into the night. The strangers followed after.

They came to a stony path that led down the face of the cliff to where the drakes laired; the mortified boy stuttered, "it is the first large cave down the path. You cannot miss it."

"One last service can you render us, boy," said the man with a hiss.

Kipril was just finishing up his evening tasks and turned to go back to the castle for supper when Corbin dashed into cave, panted the boy, "there is someone here to see you."

Kipril frowned, but made his way to the edge of the cave, curious; Corbin fell to the ground and wept bitterly. Grath and the dark stranger took hold of the boy as he emerged from the cave, the latter slashed the boy's palm with his dagger. The boy yelped in pain as they dragged him back into the cave. The Sundrake bugled her agitation. The dark man ordered, "calm the beast or it will go ill with you both."

The boy's heart raced but he dutifully quieted the creature. They drew the boy into the depths of the cave where the creature laired. She keened in confusion but heeded her master's command and remained calm. Grath took his own dagger, slashed his palm, and handed the bloody weapon to the stranger, who pushed Kipril to the ground and drew forth the weapon tainted with the boy's blood. He somehow managed to wrap his fingers around both of the weapons as they sat in his palm. He spoke in a fell tongue and closed his fist. When he opened it, the daggers were gone but a dead black gem the size of a pigeon's egg lay in his open hand. He handed it to Grath, who placed it carefully in some sort of harness or bridle.

"Now," ordered the stranger, "place it around the creature's neck." Kipril tried to rise to his feet, but the stranger's sword was suddenly pointed at his heart, as he hissed, "allow his approach or I shall pierce you through." The boy shuddered, heaved a sigh, and continued to calm the Sundrake, who was again growing restless. Grath approached the beast and secured a leather collar, boasting the black gem, around the base of her great neck; the creature suddenly went wild, but even as she went mad, Kipril felt himself pierced through the heart by the stranger's blade. The boy slumped and lay still; the creature calmed and stared dazedly, as if in a trance.

Grath approached the beast, but she did not stir at his touch. He smiled in triumph and laughed cruelly, "at last. But how?"

The dark man replied, with a hint of pride tingeing his voice, "the creature was irrevocably bound to the boy, none else could control it. But by combining his blood and yours, with the help of a little dark magic, it was possible to interrupt his contact with the beast, which sent it into a panic, but the moment the boy died, there remained nothing to distract her and now she is completely at your command. Had we just killed the boy outright, she would have gone wild and none could hope to catch her. The collar gives you full control of her now that the boy is gone." His smile turned vicious, "order her to consume her late master."

Grath shuddered but a wicked smile grew on his lips; this would be revenge indeed! The glazed look in the creature's eyes turned to one of sudden intent as she set her cruel teeth into the mortal remains of the one she once held dearer than her own life. As she fed upon human flesh, her color changed to utter black and her once bright eyes roiled blood red. As the creature fed, the dark mage hissed in anticipation, "one thing yet remains. Having tasted of human flesh, she will now hunger for it again and none will be able to hold back her appetite. You are vulnerable, even your commands will not stop her from turning on you."

Grath shivered, "then why did you have her do such a thing?"

The magician said ostentatiously, "she is but the beginning. She will be the mother of a new breed of monster, one that will soon help us destroy Vesper and then the world."

Grath scowled, "but you promised she would be mine if I helped you!"

"She is, you fool!" scoffed the stranger.

Grath frowned, "but you said she was dangerous to all men, including me!"

"I did," hissed the sorcerer in contempt, "but that little matter will soon be rectified. Come here!"

Grath took an involuntary step back, but there was nowhere to go. He was effectively trapped between the wall and the beast. His companion raised a cruel looking knife and leapt upon Grath. Corbin, who had been watching everything in horror from a forgotten corner, had never heard a more hideous or pitiful noise. The grim magician stood, holding Grath's still beating heart. He mumbled a few forsaken words and the organ disappeared in a gout of black flame.

"What have you done?!" snarled a voice from the floor of the cave.

"Made you a more useful servant for his Dark Majesty," mocked the mage, "now your precious pet won't be able to tear you apart and dine on your entrails. Get up, we are leaving; bring the beast." Corbin cowered deeper into the corner as the skeletal creature that had once been Grath passed by and the black dragon lumbered obediently after. What had he done?

He waited a full ten minutes, which seemed an eternity to his grieved and stricken heart, and then followed those terrible men, or whatever they were, out into the darkness, thankful that there was now no sign of anyone or anything, save the miserable drops of rain that were all that remained of the once violent storm. He collapsed beside the cave and wept bitterly. What had he done? He had betrayed not only his friends, but also the Master. He was lost, utterly forsaken, for all eternity! How could he live with such grief and sorrow? He heard the crash of the Sea below and for a moment considered throwing himself over the cliff, but knew it would not end his torment. Death would only harden his treachery, horror, and despair into a tomb that would torment him forever. At least there was hope, though small, that he might somehow find redemption and forgiveness while life lasted and that he not be trapped in such misery forever.

The wind had scattered the clouds and now only tattered fragments remained, through which the stars shone with all their glory. Corbin looked to the heavens and pleaded that there might be some means of forgiveness, of redemption, some trace of mercy, and that if possible, he might yet be of use to those he had so grievously betrayed. He was still on his knees, after pleading to the heavens, he bowed his head again, as if in despair.

"Easy lad," came the firm voice and calming hand on his shoulder, "where there is a humble heart, there is grace." Grim's eyes hardened, "and our world will very soon need every faithful heart to take a stand against the coming night."

Corbin looked up in wonder, "how is it you survived?"

Grim shrugged, "our Master's grace I suppose. I felt a great urge to go for a long walk."

The boy stared, "in this weather?"

The man smiled grimly, "I have learned not to ignore such urges, even when they make absolutely no sense."

The boy gasped, "then you have been back to the castle, you know what I have done?"

The man barked a harsh laugh, "what you did? Bah! That was not your handiwork, but the like of which I have never seen. Two or three of those boys had their swords in hand yet the fiend cut them down like wheat before the reaper. This is no mortal foe lad. All you could have done was die with them. Not that cowardice or betrayal is something we like to inculcate in our pupils, how you acted was wrong, but it is not unforgivable. The question is, what is to come of these terrible new foes? Did you see what passed in the cave?"

The boy shuddered and told all he had seen. When he had finished, the man replied thoughtfully, "so the fabled Sundrake has been captured by the Enemy? Not only captured, but apparently ruined with the potential to spawn a whole race of such hideous creatures! This magician and his necromancy is also a thing to chill the blood. How are we ever to defeat such foes?"

"You cannot," said a Voice, firm as the foundations of the earth. They were suddenly on their knees, trembling in terror before He who Was, before the worlds were made. A Great Unicorn stood before them in indescribable splendor, but they knew this was but the least part of His glory. Continued He, "my Enemy has unleashed forces and powers forbidden before ever I called life into being upon this sphere. Mortal men cannot stand against such foes, thus I must intercede on your behalf." He nudged the weeping Corbin with his velvet muzzle, "easy child, all is forgiven. I have heard your prayers, would you weep even as they are answered?" Unspeakable joy grew in the boy's heart as he smiled eagerly.

He turned towards the cave that had now become a tomb and a den of foul magics. "Come," said He with a great voice. Grim thought the very stones might get up and walk at such a command, but instead, Kipril emerged from the cave, rather confused but no worse for wear. Corbin and Grim exchanged a look of sheer wonder. The boy did not seem astonished in the least to be so summoned, he bowed deeply to his Master, shared an eager grin with his comrades, and all three followed the Great Unicorn up the path towards the castle, wherein the rest of their murdered comrades were waiting.

Kipril joined the others who had fallen by the dark mage's sword, while the Master spoke quietly to the two who had survived the encounter. Said He, "I am charging you two with reestablishing this Order, but you must do so in a place less forgotten. You will very soon be overwhelmed with new recruits and you must have somewhere to put them. The times shall grow very dark indeed and all men will need to be reminded that there is Life and Hope yet in the world, but found only in Me. It is a great task I set you, but fear not, you are not alone." They bowed in submission, shared an eager grin, and soon set about making preparations to leave. A thought suddenly occurred to Grim, there was no way they could leave behind all their scrolls and assorted writings nor could they take them with.

The Master, knowing his thoughts, replied, "you may leave all but the most vital documents here, child. Most of it you have already committed to memory and that needed for reference or refreshment will ever be found here, available to those who need it, but quite inaccessible to those intent on mischief and immune to the ravages of time, weather, mold, and insects. This place has been consecrated with innocent blood, ever after it shall be known and feared as a place most sacred, rightly loathed by My enemies and thought haunted by the ignorant."

Grim smiled and resumed his preparations to leave, but Corbin's curiosity could no longer be contained, "what of the others? What of those terrible men and the Sundrake?"

The Master shook His head, "you must trust all of it to Me. There are some things that are not yet meant to be revealed to mortal men." The boy nodded, only mildly disappointed, he had learned much about trust this night already. Their preparations complete, Grim and Corbin waved farewell to their comrades, summoned a pair of the sleepy drakes that sheltered in the caves below, and were soon lost to sight.

The Master then turned to His murdered servants and said, "come, there is much yet to be done. Even now, my Enemy is raising up an army of undead warriors that he will use to destroy this nation before moving on to cover all lands in darkness and death. You alone can vanquish such fiends, against whom mortal men are helpless. Will you go?" A resounding yes answered Him.

He smiled deeply as each man knelt before Him in turn. He touched each man with His great horn and a look of pure joy entered their eyes. They stood then before him, a small company of Knights, ready to accomplish whatever strange task their Master set them. "You must be horsed," said He, though none knew exactly what a horse was. He reared and whistled in a strange fashion, quite uncanny, coming from such a source. But the whistle was soon answered with eager shrieks of joy. The entire flock of drakes that sheltered in the caves below had been roused and eagerly answered this wondrous call. They took wing and lit on the battlements and towers of the castle, peering down eagerly at their Maker.

Kipril asked desperately, "the Sundrake?"

The Master shook His head sadly, "simply a beast like any other child, a bit more grand than most and obedient to you alone, but a beast nonetheless. She has been corrupted by evil and thirsts for the blood of men, she must be destroyed lest more men suffer your fate." The boy nodded in understanding and looked curiously to the other beasts, perched intently on the battlements.

The Master's gaze followed his, saying, "they can be put to good use as well as evil." Suddenly the whole flock had become Sundrakes. The creatures warbled and whistled in excitement, the men looked no less eager. The Master reared in excitement, "mount up, you have work to do!" Suddenly He was gone, leaving the awestruck Knights to themselves, yet each already knew what he must do. They exchanged an eager look, each man called to his waiting mount, and they vanished in a flurry of golden wings and joyous whistles.

Grath was not pleased with what had taken place. He wanted to be the most powerful man in the world, not the most abhorred creature in the underworld. He shivered, not knowing quite who or what he was. He would have preferred the Sundrake to the dark monster that trailed faithfully after as they wound their way deep into the heart of the dead volcano. The Wraith, for that is what the stranger called himself, had chosen this forgotten hunk of rock in the very south of the archipelago for his lair. It was a small island composed entirely of a dead volcano. Nothing grew in this place, for there was only rock and toxic ash and very little water. It was even avoided by seals, sea birds, and any other marine creature that might think about making landfall. The mountain was riddled with passages, caves, and dead ends. It was a perfect warren to breed fell things in. Grath did not like it, not in the least. Here there was no one to applaud his victories or wonder at his might. He was simply a thing, not even a mortal man, and he did not like it.

Snarled he, "I can stand it no longer! What have you done to me? I feel...different."

The Wraith hissed in amusement, "you are no longer a mortal man. You are the first of a new breed of immortal warrior, undefeatable by mere men. I have not coined a term for your, um, species."

Grath was beginning to see the advantages of this strange form and said thoughtfully, "how about Dread Warrior?"

The Wraith shook his head, "no, a little too dramatic for my taste. Men are more likely to laugh at you than cringe in terror. How about Dreadlord?"

Grath smiled darkly, "I like it, but how long until I get to inspire terror in these mere mortals? I do not wish to spend the rest of eternity living in a hole!"

"Patience," snarled the Wraith, "we must make your precious beast at home and then we can see to more interesting matters. Ah, here we are." They had found their way to the heart of the mountain where an active flow of lava brought warmth and a lurid light. The beast rumbled in pleasure at the oppressive heat, for here she would be quite at home.

"Lovely," growled Grath, "you found my pet a home. Now where are you going to find her a mate?"

"Not difficult," sneered the Wraith with sheer malice, "find a male Sea Drake, feed him some poor wretch, and you have yourself a monster only your pet could love."

The Dreadlord laughed darkly, "I like it. When do I begin?"

The Wraith hissed, "what are you waiting for? She now knows where she lairs so it should be no trouble returning to this place. Get busy, I have other business to attend to."

The Dreadlord sighed heavily, ordered the beast to follow, and together they wound their way out of the bowels of the mountain. Once outside, Grath mounted the horror and they took wing. Kipril, aback his own strange beast, hovered high above the volcanic island, waiting to follow Grath on his next adventure. As the dark figure took wing, Kipril followed silently behind and above, smiling in anticipation of what was to come.

They flew all day, only stopping to feed the beast when Grath spotted a school of fish teeming nearing the surface. Once fed, he urged her onwards again until they came to a coast Kipril knew well. It was the very shack where he had spent most of his brief life, but it had finally given in to the elements and lay in a heap with no one to tend it. The feral breeding flock lay sunning themselves on the beach when Grath landed his beast near the collapsed hovel and made his way down to the creatures on foot; they would likely take a fright at the monster he rode and he needed to capture one of the beasts, not scatter them.

There were two males in the group, he liked the looks of the larger creature. He had a few fish from their feeding foray and tossed them to the basking lizards as he approached. They whistled a little nervously, not liking the feel of this creature, but they were well used to men and did not immediately take flight. It had been some time since they had seen a man, but old habit died hard; they keened curiously and Grath drew closer. The largest male sniffed at the fish the stranger offered and quickly snatched it from his hand. Grath kept whistling to the creature and offering it more fish. It seemed to be warming to him.

While Grath was trying to make friends with the breeding flock, Kipril landed not far from where the Dreadlord had left the former Sundrake. She snarled at the smaller male and hissed as the Knight approached, no longer familiar with her late master. Kipril drew his sword and approached the uneasy beast. He grinned, never having learned more than the rudiments of swordplay or having carried such a weapon in his life, he was vastly amused to bear one now and to know full well the use of it. She snapped at him, but her teeth passed through the boy as if he were made of sunbeams. He raised his blade and reluctantly struck, but his sword was as useless against the mortal beast as her teeth were against him. He frowned, this was not going to work. Only a mortal blade could kill this mortal monstrosity, but who was crazed enough to fight such a creature? He thought for a moment and then asked his own beast if he might not try fighting the hideous female.

The creature looked at him in astonishment and Kipril was quite surprised to hear an answer in his own mind, something to the effect of, "do not be ridiculous, I too am an immortal creature and would harm the beast as little as your own blade. We must find someone capable of overcoming such a creature." Kipril gaped, he had no idea the creature was both sentient and immortal. The creature snorted his amusement, "when the Master does something, He does it well. I am called Kaza and we are partners."

Kipril smiled, "I am glad to meet you, my friend. Forgive me thinking you a simple beast."

The thing tilted its head in question, "how were you to know?"

The boy smiled, "well now I know. Where are we to find such a brave soul?"

Kaza shook his head, "you are more familiar with this place than I. What of that vile warrior and his attempts to tame the male drake?"

Kipril smiled in amusement, "he will have little luck with the creatures. They are not trained to ride and he does not know the whistles to which they will respond. It may take him a month to get that beast to do his bidding."

"So we have a month?" asked the Sundrake.

Kipril shook his head, "I was exaggerating. We likely have a few days. Why are you so literal?"

The beast cocked its head again, "I know nothing of exaggeration as you call it. I know only the Truth."

The boy laughed, "it is a human foible I suppose, a way of making our meaning clear."

The creature frowned, "how does obfuscating the timeline make the meaning clear?"

The boy shook his head, "I suppose it may be something you will never understand."

"A pity," said Kaza, "for I do not like not understanding things. Perhaps with careful observation I can come to appreciate this phenomenon?"

Kipril shook his head in amusement, "perhaps you will, but first let us find our hero while we still have a chance to destroy this beast."

Kaza said blandly, "I merely await your pleasure."

Kipril was not sure, but he thought he heard an amused hiss in that comment. As he mounted, he asked, "can you make yourself look a little less like a Sundrake?" The creature did not reply but suddenly his brilliant scales took on the muted tone of his mortal kin. Kipril smiled, "perfect."

The creature looked back over its shoulder at his rider, "and what of you."

"Me?" asked the boy, glancing over what he could see of his person. He smiled in amazement, "I had no idea!"

The drake asked, "how could you not know?"

The boy replied, "I have not always been this way, remember?"

Kaza shook his head, "no, I did not become conscious of anything until the Master called my mind into being, before that I was a silly lizard."

The boy smiled, "as I was a clueless boy. The Master has given us both new life." Kipril studied himself again, taking in the white, silver, and blue garments that had replaced his ragged peasant garb. He concentrated for a moment and suddenly he looked again a common sort of boy aback an unremarkable drake.

"Excellent," said Kaza in approval, "now we can be off." They took wing, careful to avoid cutting across Grath's line of sight, lest they be seen.

As they flew, Kipril frowned, "how did we get from the derelict castle to that volcanic island so quickly?"

Kaza shrugged, "Time means little to you or I. I can simply wish to be at a certain place and time and there we are."

Kipril grinned, "can you wish to be at the place where we can find our hero?"

Kaza nodded, "that is a superb idea, but would you have me appear at the proper when as well?"

Kipril sighed, "of course."

Kaza nodded, "then off we go." They suddenly vanished from sight and reappeared just as suddenly over a little town not far from the coast. They set down in a great meadow as Kaza said, "that little trick will be very helpful to our quest."

The boy gaped, "you did not know you could do it?"

The lizard beamed, "I know as little about my own abilities as you know of yours, but we shall soon learn what we must. Now you had best go find a volunteer." The boy smiled eagerly and dashed off towards the hamlet.

It was a small market town that sat on a busy crossroads, thus strangers were nothing too exciting to the residents of the village so no one remarked the boy as he passed. He saw several stocky, four-legged reptiles, with broadswords sheathed alongside their saddles, tied to the hitching rail at one of the inns. Kipril smiled eagerly and dashed into the common room, hoping he had found his warriors. The three men sat over their midday meal, joking and talking amongst themselves. Kipril thought to boldly approach the men, but a page about his own age dashed up to the audacious lad, saying quietly, "you must not disturb my masters as they eat or we shall both find ourselves soundly thrashed. You can ask them to tell you tales of their valor when they have finished their meal."

Kipril shook his head, "I do not wish to hear tales, but to tell them of a vital quest that needs their immediate attention."

The boy shook his head, "they do not listen to mere peasants. If you could find a great lord to support your quest, and better yet, to offer a substantial reward, my masters would be quite eager to assist you."

Kipril looked at the boy askance, "what kind of heroes are these?"

The boy shrugged, "mercenaries."

Kipril sighed, "then how am I to get the help I need?"

The boy brightened, "perhaps I could aid you?"

Kipril smiled hopefully, "this is a very dangerous quest, you are like as not to be killed."

Ian smiled eagerly, "then I may just earn myself enough of a reputation, assuming I survive, to become a renowned warrior rather than a page. I shall never advance beyond my current state if my masters have any say in the matter. All they think I am good for is polishing armor, sharpening swords, and tending to their beasts. What is this valiant quest you speak of?"

Kipril said, "I need someone to slay a dragon."

Ian asked, "what is a dragon?"

Kipril replied, "think of a dead black Sea Drake, twice its natural size, and thirsty for human blood."

Ian shivered, "that is most definitely a task worthy of a renowned warrior!" He swallowed hard, "you think I can do it?"

Kipril shrugged, "I only know I need to find someone willing to try."

The boy nodded, "you have found your man." He marched up boldly to his gorging masters and said with just a tinge of nervousness, "I am off to become a mighty man of valor."

They barely looked up from their meal, one waved his hand dismissively and said, "just be back by breakfast." And then they went back to their feasting. The boy shook his head in astonishment and accompanied Kipril outside.

Said Kipril, as the boy was adjusting the straps on his runner's harness, "there is one other thing I must ask before I risk your life on this fool quest." The boy looked over his shoulder curiously and Kipril continued, "since your life will soon be in grave peril, are you ready to die?"

The boy looked at him and frowned, "am I willing to die in this idiotic adventure?"

"No," said Kipril, "are you ready to die? If this breath were your last, where would you abide thereafter?"

"Ah!" said Ian in comprehension, "Is this some strange test? Will you laugh at me and say it was all a great joke if I say I am one of those fools who believes his grandmother's old tales? Well, have your laugh, for I truly believe in the Master, and whatever this day brings, I do not fear it, be it life or death."

Kipril did laugh, but for joy, as he said warmly, "may the Master greatly bless your dear grandmother. I could not risk your life else." The boy shook his head in wonder, but said nothing as he swung himself into his saddle. "

Are you not going to mount up?" asked the flummoxed boy of Kipril, "The day wastes."

Kipril frowned and was about to mention his lack of a beast, when a runner poked him in the back with its bony snout. He turned in surprise and the creature gave him a curious wink. He thought at the beast, "Kaza?"

The creature raised both its orbital crests (its version of eyebrows) and thus came the silent reply, "who else?" Kipril smiled and shook his head, greatly amused at the continuing revelations of the day. Ian wondered what the strange boy was waiting for but said nothing; finally Kipril was mounted and led the way out of town.

He thought at Kaza, "do you know the way?"

Kaza shrugged, "yes and no."

Kipril frowned, "which is it?"

Kaza continued, "I do not exactly know the way, but we shall undoubtedly get there." The boy shook his head in wonder but did not reply.

"How far is this monster of yours?" came the cheerful voice of their companion.

Kipril thought hard for a moment, certainly they must not be too far from his onetime home, else they would not arrive before Grath had escaped, but then he had never been allowed to go to town so he did not know much about the nearby settlements. He extrapolated from the meager details Darfer had mentioned over the years and said, "it is probably a half day's ride."

Ian smiled, "then we shall arrive with plenty of daylight to spare." He frowned, "why are you not trying to slay the beast yourself?"

Kipril glanced quickly at his hip, saw that his sword had vanished, and said, "do I look like a warrior?"

The boy laughed, "if you had a sword, you would be just as much a warrior as me, which is not saying much. Where did this creature come from?"

Kipril shuddered, "it is the result of the Enemy's vile witchery, brought about at the cost of innocent blood. You must also know that there is a dread warrior nearby, I hope we can deal with his pet ere he discovers us, else it could be very interesting."

Ian grinned like a maniac, "it makes it all the more an adventure." Kipril shook his head in wonder. Within the time specified, they reached the ruins by the Sea, where the monster yet sat, awaiting its master's return.

Ian stared at the thing from behind a hill, lest they be seen. Said he, "I am starting to have second thoughts. Can I even kill the thing?"

Kipril shook his head, "I do not know, all you can do is try."

Ian swallowed hard, drew his sword, and kicked his beast to a gallop. The dragon had been dozing in the warm noon sun, it roused at the sudden approach of a stranger. It rumbled deep in its throat and the redness of its eyes deepened in fury and hunger. Kipril and Kaza suddenly appeared on its other side, for a moment drawing the monster's attention away from Ian. It screeched in fury and confusion, snapping at the impertinent boy and for a moment, gave Ian time to strike. Instead of trying to strike at the head, the boy aimed his blade under its foreleg where he hoped it was vulnerable, fearing his sword would not pierce the thick scales that covered the monster's dorsum.

His blade struck true, severing the great vessels that coursed between the leg and the neck; it was a mortal wound unless the bleeding was quickly staunched, but it was not immediately fatal, at least not to the monster. Roused to greater fury by pain and confusion, the monster snapped at Ian, who lay for a moment stunned on the ground where the force of his blow had flung him. He was an easy target for the dying monster as it flailed about wildly in its moribund agony. Even if the boy had survived the monster's first attack, he was certainly crushed when the thrashing beast rolled atop his prone form.

Kaza cocked his head, "so this is death. It is certainly not a pretty sight."

Kipril said quietly, "there are many things in this fallen mortal world that are neither pleasant nor beautiful."

Kaza blew out his nostrils, "a good thing we no longer belong to this world."

Kipril smiled wistfully, knowing his true home lay wherever his Master was, well outside this sphere of pain and sorrow. The ruckus atop the cliff had frightened the lounging Sea Drakes and interrupted Grath's attempts to tame the half-wild beast. They shrieked in terror and winged their way out to Sea while Grath rushed up the hill to see what all the commotion was about. He stared in horror at the ruined form of the dragon, heaving its last struggling breath as its lifeblood pooled on the rocky ground.

"No!" shrieked the fiend, as his eyes widened in astonishment as he saw Kipril standing amidst the carnage. "You," spat the Dreadlord vehemently, "I thought we had seen the last of your meddling?"

Kipril smiled insolently, "certainly not, and it was your vile master who meddled in the first place!"

Grath smiled cruelly in anticipation, "we shall see who is the better warrior, boy!"

He lunged at the boy with sword raised; Kipril smiled eagerly as he found his own sword in his hands. Their blades met, darkness and blinding light flashed with each stroke. Grath had been one of the best swordsmen in mortal life, while Kipril could barely hold the weapon correctly, but this seemed to be an even match. Kaza shook his head in impatience, then leapt at the distracted Dreadlord's neck. The fiend screamed, as the sharp fangs found their mark, and then suddenly vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Kipril eyed his companion with an amused smile, "I thought you could do no harm?"

Kaza cocked his head, "to mortal flesh, no, but that thing is hardly mortal. Besides, we have other things to do than spending all day fiddling with that nuisance."

Kipril raised an eyebrow, "all day?"

The Runner took on the form of a Sea Drake and rumbled a laugh, "I think I am starting to understand hyperbole."

"I see," said the boy, as he approached the stiffening monster, "now how are we to move this thing?"

Kaza cocked his head in the familiar way and said, "I suppose you just have to concentrate." Kipril stared at the creature in astonishment but knew he had the right idea. He concentrated, and was easily able to shift the great carcass aside to reveal the battered remains of the once bold page. Kaza shook his head in disgust, "death is certainly not a thing of beauty, but come, we shall see if something better is not to be found in its wake." Kipril took up the nearly unrecognizable corpse and was soon aback Kaza; the world spun and they found themselves hovering over the crumbling castle on a grey afternoon. Kaza glanced about, "the weather has certainly not improved in our absence." The creature back-winged and landed on the edge of the cliff, just outside the gaping gates. This time, the boy was not allowed to cross the threshold unchallenged.

"Who goes?" came the stern query.

The boy looked up in surprise, not expecting anyone to be lingering about willingly in such a place. He gasped to see a creature out of legend emerge into the gateway, but then he supposed that he too had now become something somewhat legendary. The centaur stared down at this bold little mortal in wonder, especially seeing that he clutched some form of carrion in his arms. The creature seemed almost as astonished at the boy's presence as the boy was at his. Kaza chuckled and suddenly the Sea Drake shone forth like the sun. The centaur frowned, but then understanding filled his eyes.

"What is it, Katar?" came a second gruff voice. A second centaur appeared and glanced in puzzlement at the boy and then at the Sundrake. "Ah," said he, "you had best follow me."

Kipril gave the drake a confused look, but Kaza only laughed the more. The boy shook his head and followed the second creature, as the first stood aside to allow him to pass. "Where did you come from?" asked the astonished boy, "Or rather how did you get here?"

Laughed his guide, "the Master asked and we have volunteered. Our people live in a distant part of this world, as yet unknown to mankind, save a few souls who have occasionally washed ashore after shipwreck, but they never see their homelands again, as there is no way for them to leave our shores; thus do they live out the remainder of their years amongst us. So you see, mankind is nearly as legendary to us as we are to you." He eyed Kipril's curious burden with wonder, "and what would you be doing with that?"

The boy grinned, "that I hoped you could tell me. I only knew I must bear his mortal remains thither."

"Why not leave whatever is left of your friend here," said the centaur, Akvar by name, "there is a cave just down the path with a spring you may find useful."

The boy smiled in sudden enlightenment, left Ian's shattered form in the midst of the courtyard, and dashed down the familiar path that once led to the lair of his once beloved Sundrake. He ran into the cave, only to back out almost as hastily as a grumpy sounding voice demanded, "who or what are you? And what business do you have in my cave?"

Kipril held up an empty phial that had suddenly appeared in his hand, "I must fetch some water from the spring in the depths of your lair."

"Do not be ridiculous," snarled the as yet unseen creature, "no one is allowed access to the Water of Life without very good reason!"

"But..." began the flustered boy.

"No excuses," growled the voice, "go away and let me sleep."

"I was Sent," gasped the flummoxed boy.

The creature heard the emphasis on the word and said curiously, "Sent?"

The boy shook his head, "this is the errand our Master has set me."

The thing asked quizzically, "can you prove it?"

"How?" asked the exasperated boy.

A great bear, almost as large as a female Sundrake, emerged from the cave. "I do have permission," the creature growled in warning, "to slay any who dare seek this Water unworthily."

Kipril brightened, "then you had best be about it already. I do not have all day."

The monstrous beast barked a laugh, "are you serious?"

The boy shrugged, "if things are as they seem, your claws will not hurt me and thus will you have your proof."

He shook his head in confusion, but raised one great claw, ready to shred the apparently mad youth. He stopped short, "are you sure about this?"

The boy grinned, "if you must have proof, proceed."

The bear shrugged and struck at the boy. Nothing happened. The bear said in surprise, "I do not understand?" The boy smiled impishly and dashed through the bear and into the cave. Kipril found a bubbling spring and a slightly luminescent pool at the back of the cave where so much wickedness had been wrought. He filled his flask and dashed back the way he had come. The bear looked at him in confusion and said plaintively, "I do not understand?"

Kipril said reassuringly, "ask the centaurs, they will explain the matter." He shook his great, shaggy head, mumbled to himself, and returned to his interrupted sleep, still not understanding, but too lazy to ask after the matter as the strange boy had suggested.

Kipril dashed back to the courtyard, where he greatly amused the two sentries with his tale of his encounter with the bear. Laughed Katar, "we will have to explain things to the poor fellow, we cannot have such happening every time one of your ilk needs access to the spring. But come, your poor companion lingers in the shadows of death. Such is not how so bold a soul should be treated."

Kipril would have poured the precious fluid in Ian's mouth but he was not sure where exactly that was, so he contented himself with pouring the contents of the flask over his friend's mortal remains. The results were almost instantaneous. The ruined form suddenly took on the recognizable visage of a young man, and Ian sat up and glanced about himself in wonder. He shook his head, smiled at Kipril, blinked in astonishment at the centaurs, and rose to his feet as he took in his surroundings.

He, as all his comrades that had preceded him in death, had come immediately into the Presence of their dear Master upon death. There, as all mortals must, they endured an interview of the strangest kind, afterwards they were given a choice of returning to the mortal world, in it but not of it, and continuing the fight against the darkness, or forever remaining in their Master's wondrous presence. Ian, as all his fellow Knights, was not yet ready to give up the struggle against the Dark. So it was, he found himself here, in this curious new occupation.

He smiled knowingly at Kipril, "you never said you could not defeat the dragon, you only pretended not to have a sword."

Kipril grinned in reply, "would you have willingly gone after such a fiend if I had told you I could not personally defeat the thing?"

The boy laughed, "aye, I would have gone after the monster but perhaps would have thought far less of you and your lack of martial skill!"

They had emerged from the gates as they chatted merrily together; Kaza cocked his head in the usual way and said to the pair, "do we not have something pressing that needs doing?"

Ian looked quite astonished to see the legendary Sundrake, and even more amazed to hear it speak! Kipril quickly explained how matters had transpired and Ian replied, "so this pressing business, I think, would be to find another of your kind?"

Kaza shook his head, "nay lad, my kind is not found. We are made!"

Ian frowned, but Kipril grinned, "we had best go speak with my friend the bear."

Katar smiled, "and I had best go with and explain matters."

They followed the old path down to the sea caves and the bear emerged once more, grumpy at his twice interrupted nap, but upon scenting the centaur he quickly changed his tone and became quite polite and respectful, if a little groggy. "So it is, so it is," said the bear quite ruefully as the centaur explained things. Then with a sigh he added, "I suppose this means my poor nap will suffer quite dreadfully, but such is to be expected I suppose. Very well lads, off with you, but don't dawdle mind you, I have some serious business to tend to without you underfoot."

Kipril said in a whisper to Ian, "he means he will be asleep again the moment we leave."

"I heard that," grunted the bear, but not without a hint of amusement in his voice. Ian dashed into the cave, filled his flask, and soon they had vanished back up the path; the great bear was soon asleep, his snores doing credit to his size.

"How am I to catch a Sea Drake?" asked Ian in some consternation, as Kaza carried them both back to the scene of their latest disaster.

Kipril grinned, "I know how to whistle in a certain flock, but otherwise I know not."

They landed on the edge of the cliff and Kipril whistled, as he had not done in what seemed an eon. The familiar chirps and croons came, but they were tentative, as if the beasts did not quite know what to expect. Kipril whistled again, and this time the creatures emerged, eager to see a familiar face after all the excitement of the day. Kipril changed his pitch and the creatures obediently landed on the sea cliff, cocking their heads to look curiously at their visitors.

"Take your pick," grinned Kipril, "the smallest female has always been my favorite."

Ian cautiously approached the indicated creature, she chirruped happily and bent her head towards him to have it scratched. She crooned in ecstasy at the gentle touch and then squawked in indignation when he poured the strange water into her mouth. She shook her head in confusion and then cocked it curiously as understanding dawned in her eyes, quoth she, "strange, quite strange but not unpleasant." She eyed the boy in amusement, seeming to know innately the reason for which she had been given Reason, "come along then lad, no sense standing about gawking. Off we go! Oh, call me Kyra!" Ian shared an astonished grin with Kipril before climbing aback the dear creature and vanishing from sight.

The Wraith watched curiously from behind the carcass of the dead dragon. When that fool Dreadlord had returned quite unexpectedly, and ready to burst with fury at a creature who was supposed to be dead, the Wraith knew he had to investigate. So it was true, the wretch or rather wretches, had found a way to bypass death and become a true menace to his plans. He grumbled under his breath, wondering what was to be done about such creatures. It was also a pity that his scheme of breeding black dragons had come to naught. He could certainly try it again but the likelihood of success was slim if all these wretches had to do was get some pea-brained mortal to lop the heads off the beasts. But this strange water splashed on a mindless drake causing it to waken to sentience was a curious matter.

He doubted such cursed water could much avail himself, but it gave him an interesting idea. His Dreadlords must be mounted and corrupting mortal stock was no way to go about it. That left corrupting immortal stock, which seemed doubtful, as the beasts were unlikely to cooperate with him if they were unwilling to cooperate with the so-called Master. That left reanimating a dead beast, now that was an idea that might be useful! A wicked smile lit his face, perhaps he could experiment with something else while he had the chance. The wretched boy was still perched on the edge of the cliff chatting with his beast. The Wraith conjured up a ball of red flame, which washed over the boy, but did no harm. The sorcerer snarled and tossed a ball of black flame at the infuriating boy, who suddenly vanished in a wisp of smoke as the fire consumed him. Excellent! The sundrake reared up on his haunches, startled, only to meet the same fate as his master as a second gout of black flame consumed him. Most excellent indeed!

He crept from his hiding place and said some dreadful words, targeting the largest male drake that still perched on the edge of the cliff. The beast instantly fell over dead. He then said a few more choice words and the Dreadlord suddenly appeared, quite astonished to find himself suddenly somewhere else. He glanced in surprise at the Wraith and then stared at the dead beast before him. Said the Wraith, "I need you for a little experiment. Cut the heart out of the beast." The Dreadlord stared at him but drew his dagger and did as he was bidden. Grath held the cold organ up for the Wraith's inspection, but it suddenly vanished in an acrid wisp of black flame.

The Dreadlord glared at the Wraith for his impertinence, but then turned as a terrible groaning noise arose from the dead beast. "Will it to stand," commanded the Wraith. Grath did so and the beast stood shakily, as if it knew not the use of its limbs. The Wraith shook his head, "it has no mind of its own. It is simply an animated corpse. You will have to do all the thinking for it." Grath shook his head, he liked his previous pet far better, but this would have to suffice, at least for now. He climbed aback the awkward thing and it laboriously sprang from the cliff and fell headlong into the Sea. The Wraith laughed, apparently Grath had some learning to do. He spoke a few fell words and vanished from sight.

Kipril gasped as he felt the black fire consume him, then all was darkness, and suddenly blindingly bright. He blinked as the light dimmed to that of the setting sun and stared about in wonder, for he had returned to the castle he had just vacated. With a shrill squawk, Kaza appeared suddenly atop him, or would have had he not quickly dodged the beast's abrupt appearance. The drake righted himself and said blandly, as if describing the weather, "that was unpleasant."

Kipril grinned, "no hyperbole?"

Kaza shrugged, "I did not think it needed any as you have just experienced the same phenomenon. What was that?"

Kipril said thoughtfully, "it was likely that dark mage or whatever he is. At least this time he cannot simply kill me and be done with it." He clutched the hilt of his sword, "nor am I completely helpless any longer. I suppose we had best be about our next adventure."

Kaza was staring intently at something in the rough waves below. He tucked his wings and dove like a kingfisher after minnows. He flapped back to the ridge he had just vacated with a girl clutched tightly in his foreclaws; his keen eyes had seen her small vessel about to break up on the rocks below.

Kipril smiled shyly, he had never had much to do with women during his lifetime; he wondered how to interact with such mysterious creatures beyond it. Kaza set the girl gently on her feet and she looked both embarrassed and quite pleased all at once. Said she, "I thank you for your assistance, but I was quite able to handle matters myself. That is quite the trick you have taught your drake, I never thought them so daring. I am Princess Lyra, by the way. Can you tell me anything of this supposedly haunted castle?"

Kipril grinned; Kaza goggled at the garrulousness of the creature. Kipril said, "I am sorry if we disturbed you, but you seemed in peril and in need of immediate assistance. Kaza learned that trick on his own; he is quite an intelligent creature. What do you care to know about this old ruin?"

She smiled slowly as she replied, "it was rumored that this was where the fabulous Sundrake was last seen, but the creature seems to have vanished, along with everyone who used to dwell here. It is said that every last one of those strange monks were murdered and that their ghosts still haunt the ruins. There are also whispers of a great treasure in this place, if one is bold enough to go after it. What is to come of Vesper if the legendary Sundrake has perished? My father even promised to let me wed the bold warrior who had managed to tame the great beast, but alas, it seems he too has vanished. Or has he?" She focused her piercing gaze upon the boy and he felt like a mouse at the mercy of a hawk.

He replied after a significant pause, "the rumors contain a seed of truth. The Sundrake and her master are no more, as are most of the former occupants of this drear ruin." She gasped in horror, no doubt wondering what would come of her father's realm. Kipril continued, unfazed by her reaction, "two of the former occupants did survive and should be roaming the wide world, trying to breath new life into their ancient order. The only treasures to be found within are the collected writings of said monks, which are truly precious indeed. As for ghosts, I think such whispers are truly hearsay."

"Do you not care what is to come of us all without the Sundrake?" said she in horror.

Kipril shook his head, "I think you misinterpret prophecy my Lady. The wording was originally that the Sundrake and its rider would be the 'key' to driving back the coming evil, not that they themselves would necessarily drive it back personally. The loss of the beast and its rider is regrettable, but fear not, for they have played their part; the Master has everything well in hand, you need not fear for the future of Vesper." She seemed somewhat mollified by his words but troubled that such wisdom sprang from what seemed to be just another grubby peasant child. He changed the subject somewhat, "can you tell me how fare the refugees of this place?"

She shrugged, "well enough I suppose, my father has granted them a place within the city itself, an old palace once belonging to a miserly old lord no one has seen in several years. They seem to be doing quite well for themselves, it is all the rage among the young lordlings to do nothing but listen to these men prattle on day and night. Which is part of the reason I am here." Kipril cocked his head, much as Kaza was wont to do, and she continued, "it has grown dreadfully dull around Versa since that little contest. The boys do nothing but study and there has been nothing heard of the Sundrake in months. So I set out to find it and the boy who had mastered the beast, and if not them, then perhaps the treasure or a few ghosts perhaps, anything is better than sitting idly around the palace all day."

Kipril frowned, "why not fly a drake rather than risk the Sea?"

She shook her head, "you do not know?" She stared at the boy, "where have you been for the last few months?" He smiled enigmatically as she continued, "the creatures have grown suddenly skittish of people. Most of the riding beasts are unaffected, but the breeding flocks and untrained beasts have become quite feral. No one knows what has come over the creatures, but many assume their days are numbered as far as usefulness. Anyone with a gentle beast is not willing to rent, lend, or sell it, for fear they have become a scarce commodity."

Kipril looked to Kaza for some explanation. The beast thought it over and said silently to his companion, "you have experienced a little of the species' rudimentary telepathic abilities in your interactions with the original Sundrake. They are quite thoughtless creatures, but I get the sense from those lurking in the caves below that something has happened that has scared them even more witless than usual. One of their fellows died quite suddenly in an encounter with a dark man. Those not interacting with humans on a regular basis are now quite truly out of their minds with fear of you."

Kipril asked wordlessly, "can you bring them to their senses?"

Kaza thought deeply for a moment and then there came the sound of confused keening from the caves below. Kaza thought, "I tried to convince them that they need only fear that dark man and his ilk, not all men. It quite confused them but perhaps they will work it out for themselves with time."

The Princess stared at the boy in concern, his eyes had taken on a strange glazed look, and he had not spoken for a full five minutes. When Kipril finally came back to himself he found the girl staring at him in astonishment; he blushed like an embarrassed girl but made no reply. "Who are you?" came her quiet question.

He shrugged, grinned impishly, and said, "no one in particular."

She shook her head, "are you perhaps one of the ghosts of this place?"

He grinned, "would a ghost go to all the bother of rescuing you?"

The girl smiled at the imbecility of the thought but said teasingly, "perhaps if he wishes to have the island to himself and not have to share it eternally with another ghost."

"Now that is an interesting thought," said Kipril with a grin, "if such things as ghosts actually existed."

"You do not believe in life after death?" asked she.

He shook his head, "I certainly believe in an afterlife, I just don't happen to believe in ghosts. I do not think the Master allows such spirits to wander aimlessly after life is done." She nodded thoughtfully and then brightened, she was on the haunted island and was more than eager to look around. "Where are you going?" gasped the boy, as she suddenly dashed towards the castle gates.

He was too late, the centaurs easily captured the intruder; she let her indignation and surprise out in a great, undignified, and certainly unladylike squawk. Kipril rolled his eyes, exchanged a pained look with Kaza, and went to rescue the girl. "Unhand me, you fictitious rogues!" squealed she at the top of her lungs.

"She is harmless," said Kipril, peeping in the gate.

Katar shook his head, "we are not worried about her causing us problems, we are concerned that that lethargic bear might make an accidental end of her if she is bold enough to poke around where she should not."

She gaped at the boy, "what language are you speaking?"

Kipril grinned, he had had no idea that he was not speaking the tongue common to the men of Vesper. He looked at her captors and Katar smiled, "you speak our tongue quite well for an outlander."

He shook his head in wonder at yet another new skill he seemed to possess at need. He said to Lyra, "they will let you go if you promise them not to get yourself killed."

She stared at him, "I would appreciate that myself, how am I to accomplish this feat?"

He smiled, "just avoid the first cave as you head down the path to the bottom of the cliff." She frowned and he continued, "there is a rather grumpy bear lurking within and he would rather cut you to ribbons than ask questions." She shivered and nodded her agreement and her guards reluctantly released her.

She poked around the ruin quite eagerly, but could find little of interest save a library overstuffed with writings peculiar to the Master and His ways. She even skipped down the path and nosed about the caves, all save the first that is, but found nothing but several jumpy drakes. She sighed and came back to where Kipril waited with Kaza, asking, "would you care to go home?"

She shook her head, "no, but there really is no great secret here?"

Kipril shook his head, "only if you are looking for the meaning of life, the direction and purpose we all seek, but then you could have found that by listening to the Keepers in your own city."

She nodded and said, "yes, but here I could truly study it in peace. I will stay on for a time and see what I can learn about this precious Master of yours. Those monks could scratch a living from these rocky hills, so can I. Who knows, maybe I can keep this bear of yours from eating any unwary pilgrims." Kipril's reply was lost in a great roar from Kaza, who was suddenly gleaming like the sun. Lyra whispered in awe, "the Sundrake?"

Kipril grinned, "a Sundrake, there are a few of them about now though the original is dead." She then screamed in terror as a great black shadow descended; Kipril shuddered, but drew his sword. Where had Grath found another mount? But this one smelled of carrion and he knew that he could best the thing, for it was no mortal creature but an animated rack of bones.

Grath roared, "give me the Princess, boy and you need not be injured."

Kipril shook his head and said, "do not be ridiculous, you will have to come and get her!"

Lyra stared at him in horror, wondering how this was a good idea, but then transferred her stunned gaze to the monster astride the monstrosity. As the beast touched down with a roar, it suddenly fell to dust, as did its master. Kipril slid his sword back into its sheath and said in awe, "merely touching this island destroys them!"

Kaza's roar had brought the centaurs up to see what all the fuss was about. Katar replied, "certainly, such unholy creatures could not set foot on this island. The Master Himself has walked here and the blood of His servants has soaked into the very stones, nay, this island shall be a place of sanctuary for those whom the Enemy would otherwise destroy."

Lyra said in shock, "I understand little of this, but I would be the first to seek protection and enlightenment upon these shores. That thing came hunting me."

The centaurs exchanged a silent look and Katar nodded firmly, "certainly my Lady, come with us." They nodded farewell to Kipril, Lyra gave him a faint smile, still in shock, and then they vanished into the castle. Kipril mounted the Sundrake and the stones and the Sea were once more left to their lonely vigil.

They appeared in a little copse, Kipril clad as a mediocre warrior astride one of those heavy, quadrupedal riding beasts, Kaza's latest attempt at disguise. A rustling in the nearby bushes drew their attention and Ian emerged, followed by a Runner, who nodded at them in greeting. The boy was clad as he was the day Kipril had come seeking help to destroy the corrupted Sundrake. Then the thought occurred to him that perhaps this was that same day. He frowned, not quite comprehending that he was no longer vulnerable to the whims of Time. He could quite literally be in two places at once. He grinned, the physics of eternity would be an interesting study.

He smiled at Ian, "come my fine page, we had best go find your employers and see if I might not join their party."

The boy mounted his Runner and grinned, "as you wish it sir, though I must warn you, they are not the politest men you will ever meet."

Kipril smiled, "hopefully we will not give ourselves away by our grievous possession of manners. Come boy, and do not forget the luggage."

Kaza exchanged an exasperated look with Kyra, "do you understand any of this?"

She snorted a laugh, "no, but then we are not humans. I doubt they completely understand Sundrakes." The boys shook their heads in amusement, as their faithful mounts moved back towards the little market town as the sun was setting.

The beasts were borne away to the stable by a slave boy about their own age. Kipril wondered if there was not something he could do for the lad, but his sole business now was the errand upon which he was sent. He would have to trust the Master to care for all other matters. Ian dashed ahead into the inn to find his masters still seated where he had left them. It seemed their midday repast had gradually become an early supper. They were well into their cups when the boy politely asked if a most esteemed personage could join them in their meal. They stared drunkenly at the strange warrior who approached their table but no one said anything, save one who belched loudly. Kipril drew up a chair and began helping himself to the remains of their feasting, solely focused on his food, he did not bother looking at his companions, who just stared at his temerity in incomprehension.

Apparently sated, Kipril finally addressed his companions, "I would join your little party, if you are in need of another sword?"

Grunted one, Throg by name, "we no need help..." He hiccupped and continued, "just fine alone..."

Kipril raised one eyebrow, "you did not think I would require compensation on our first quest together did you? If I am a complete imbecile, you are out nothing and I may even do you the favor of getting myself killed. But if I am useful, then we can come to terms thereafter." This seemed agreeable to all and they solemnized their vows by falling into a drunken slumber where they sat. Kipril shook his head amusedly, and with Ian's help, got the inebriated warriors into bed.

Once alone in the common room, the regular patrons having scattered abroad due to the presence of such rough and dangerous men, Kipril sat with Ian in a dark corner, lest they be disturbed or overheard. Said Kipril, "I have no idea what we are about tomorrow but it will be dreadfully dangerous to your late masters."

Ian nodded, "it shall certainly be an interesting day. They have arranged to meet with a mysterious fellow who promises rich reward for their faithful service. They have no god but their bellies, which means the man who pays them the most owns their souls."

Kipril shivered, "that is exactly what they will be bartering tomorrow unless we can somehow stop them."

Ian frowned, "how can we make a mortal man do or not do something? I thought such was forbidden us?"

Kipril grinned, "sorry, poor choice of words. I meant we can warn them and only if they listen to us can this dreadful fate be avoided."

Ian grinned, "I assumed that was what you meant, but I am so new at this that I just wanted to make sure I was not missing anything."

Kipril shared his smile, "we are all new at this." His smile became grim, "so too are our foes, but I wonder how long that mage has been around?" Ian could only shrug in answer.

Morning came far too early for our esteemed warriors, but they dared not miss the interview they had scheduled for later that day. Only as they emerged from their rooms did they realize they had somehow obtained a companion in the course of the evening. They exchanged glares, wondering who to blame, but finally just gave up and vented their anger on Ian and the stable boy. After a passable breakfast, they were in their saddles and riding hard for the strange rendezvous they had been given, but people who could afford the services of such men were often eccentric and the small company never asked questions as long as they were well paid. After much abuse of the menials, they were off at a brisk pace and would be precisely on time for the meeting, scheduled for the middle of the night in the midst of a supposedly haunted forest.

Kipril said to Ian as they stopped to breathe the beasts, "I know little of our destination, my late master did not speak much of anything, most especially rumors of the Haunted Wood. Know you anything of it?"

Ian shook his head, "not much, only that it is said that it is folly to enter, for some do not come out."

Throg lashed at the boy with the flat of his sword, snarling, "you will not fraternize with your betters boy." Ian dashed off to see to his chores while the man glared at Kipril, "and you would do well to keep the boy in his place." He snarled and trudged back to where his companions were busy with a flask of something fermented; the boys exchanged a grin.

They continued on their way and reached the edge of the nefarious wood with the sunset, giving them less than an hour of dim light to find the appointed spot. The stranger had even chosen a moonless night for their meeting. There was a feeble path winding through the thick wood of fir and spruce. The wind moaned morosely through the boughs and small creatures scurried and called in the dense foliage. It was not a pleasant ride and would have frozen Ian to his bones, if he had not found a higher calling and knew that there was no such thing as ghosts; he smiled, most people would probably consider him of that mythic race if they but knew his history.

"I do not like this," came the silent comment of Kaza to Kipril, "I sense dreadful things ahead."

Kipril suddenly spoke, breaking the grave-like stillness of his companions, "is this not a foolish idea? Who is this man? Why meet here and at such a grim hour?"

Throg scoffed, "scared are we?"

Kipril shook his head, "nay, just wary of evil strangers." They laughed at him and continued on, forcing him to follow after, just ahead of Ian.

Throg suddenly drew rein, "then again, it would not be foolish to have the new recruit go first, just in case something goes wrong."

Kipril stared at the man, "as you wish, but I think it best if we all turn around immediately."

Throg shook his head, "he's a customer and we never let a customer down. Ahead with you or you can turn back right now."

Kipril said plaintively, "do you not care for your lives? For your souls, that you sell them to the highest bidder?"

The man shrugged, "what use do we have for souls? Life ends eventually so why fear death? On with you."

Kipril sighed but took the lead while Ian watched carefully from the rear. Kaza's sense of dread increased tenfold by the time they found the great ring of standing stones where the meeting was to occur. In the center of the ancient ring lay a long stone with a flattened top, darkly stained. Kipril said quietly, "you still think this a good idea?" Throg shrugged but his companions were looking decidedly nervous.

"Punctual," grated a strange voice, "a useful trait in a minion."

The riding beasts screeched and pawed in unease, the moment their masters dismounted, they fled into the darkness. The Sundrakes followed the senseless creatures, so as not to stir up controversy. The men stared after their beasts in stunned horror, not liking the idea of losing such valuable creatures or in staying in the clearing with this loathsome man. "Who are you?" came Throg's trembling reply.

Sneered the cloaked figure, "it matters not, what matters is your willingness to obey. You obey, I pay, understand?" The men nodded, at last he was speaking sense. "Now," hissed the stranger, "are you truly wishing to spend the rest of your meager lives spilling your blood for a few coins? Would you rather gain power undreamed and move beyond death into true life?"

Kipril interposed himself between the stranger and the three uncouth warriors, "what is this you speak of? You are no servant of the Master, therefore you cannot speak of True Life! You will give only a living death." The man moved faster than thought, striking what should have been a mortal blow.

Kipril flinched back, avoiding the strike, but his companions all gasped in horror, as the man continued, "you speak truly, wretch, I am no puppet of the so-called Master. I serve his arch nemesis. As will you, or you will die." He turned grim eyes upon the three quaking warriors, "well?" Throg stepped forward while his two companions collapsed into a whimpering heap. Hissed the dark man, "at least one of you has sense. Watch and learn what it is to live!" He motioned for the trembling Throg to lie on the toppled stone. Ian reached for his blade but Kipril minutely shook his head, this was Throg's choice and they could not gainsay him, but they could protect those unwilling to proceed if the creature turned on them. The Wraith drew its dagger and cut the beating heart out of his victim's chest; the man's scream was terrible but the hideous laugh of triumph that followed was worse.

The new Dreadlord sat up and leered at his horrified audience, "who is next?" The remaining mercenaries lay as dead men, too terrified to move, hoping they might wake from this nightmare. Kipril and Ian had their swords out and stood between the two monstrosities and their remaining victims. Throg sneered at Ian, "where did you learn courage, wretch? You would never have become a warrior even had you lived to see your grandchildren. Come, join us and you can be truly powerful."

Ian said, unafraid, "I have chosen my fate."

The Wraith snarled, "are you mad to think you can harm either of us with your pitiful swords? Move aside, those two are mine and then I will make you pay for your idiocy."

Kipril shook his head, "I think not. They must make a conscious choice. You will not touch them else."

The Wraith deferred to the Dreadlord, "you may try your hand at them." The creature picked up its sword and ran at Kipril, who easily dodged the charge and brought his own blade around to stab the creature in the back. Throg whimpered and fell to dust. The Wraith shrieked, "what is this? I had heard dreadful rumors but it cannot be true! We are invincible."

Kipril shook his head and approached the dread mage, "you were, at least until the Master intervened on behalf of mortal men. Your plans will not succeed." The thing screeched and muttered something under its breath, but the spell that had killed the sea drake had no effect whatsoever on Kipril. The pair advanced towards the flummoxed creature, who backed away trembling in terror, but first one and then the other suddenly vanished in a gout of black flame.

A taunting laugh filled the clearing, as another Wraith emerged, "you did not believe me, did you? I warned you of those fools but you would not listen, at least we still have our victims." They shrank back momentarily in terror as a great light and an awful roar filled the stone circle. Two large, winged reptiles, glowing like a sunset, swept in and each took hold of one of the nearly insensible men, vanishing from sight. "Sundrakes," spat the second Wraith, "I begin to hate the very idea of the bothersome creatures."

"You have always been obsessed with that old legend and look what it has availed you," sneered the other.

He snarled, "I expect more respect from you in future, for it was I that brought you here and showed you what true power is!"

The other Wraith shrugged, "what matters that? We are equal, or rather I am the superior in wisdom and cunning. I will do as I please, but you will pay for this bungling. We are in dire need of recruits if we are to counteract these fools and take charge of Vesper, let alone the world. Fail again and our master will be quite displeased." He muttered under his breath and vanished; his irate companion did likewise, leaving the grim clearing again to itself.

The Sundrakes appeared over the sanctuary island, still clutching their prone passengers in their foreclaws. The banished boys suddenly appeared beneath them, sprawled on the turf. They shuddered as their senses returned and they stood, looking up at the amused creatures above them. Lyra came dashing out of the castle in wonder and gasped as the drakes landed and deposited two quivering and half-mad men on the stony ground.

Said she in horror, "they look as if they have been scared out of their senses."

Ian bowed to the lady and said, "quite true, lady. Perhaps your gentle touch can bring them back from the brink of hysteria."

She smiled at Kipril, "I have been going over those scrolls of yours, quite interesting, really. I think these poor souls could use a dose of it themselves."

The two centaurs came striding up the path and looked at the two boys in alarm; Katar asked, "what are we to do with such men? They cannot be allowed to poke around in certain places without risking mortal danger."

Kipril smiled, "do you not possess a skill that might be useful in a case like this?"

Katar stroked his bearded chin and then smiled, "a good idea. We can make a thing appear other than it is, at need. We can simply arrange for a certain cave to disappear from casual view." He frowned, "but what happens if they do not wish to remain here?"

Ian said, "let them go whither they will. They are refugees not prisoners."

Katar faced Lyra, "are you sure about this, my lady?" Her grin was answer enough.

The boys carried the fainted mercenaries into the keep, saw to their comfort, and then prepared to go. Lyra took hold of Kipril's sleeve and said pleadingly, "could you not stay for a time? It is quite lonely here with only the centaurs for company."

Kipril smiled sadly, "nay lady, I must be about our Master's business." She nodded and watched him go. She had seen many strange happenings since coming to this island, his sudden disappearance did not faze her in the least. She returned to the keep to see to her patients.

Kipril glanced around the corner of the barn, he was not sure why he was in hiding, for he knew no mortal eye could see him at that particular moment. An unshaven man with a bright red face charged out of the house in a drunken rage; the boy shuddered, as he watched the man raise a crude whip over his head and lash out at the nearest target: one of two half-starved slaves that worked the farm while their master slowly drank himself to death.

The boy's piteous screams only seemed to infuriate the man the more, so did the lash rain down with harder and more frequent strokes. The boy, bleeding and nearly insensible, had ceased his protests. The man grunted in contentment and trudged back into the house to slake his sudden thirst. Kipril rounded the barn and dashed to the boy's side; he knelt beside the prone form and gently raised his head. The boy quivered at his touch and turned plaintive eyes upon the one he felt nearby, "so sorry, master...," came his tremulous voice.

Kipril said gently, "nay, fear not, for soon your true Master will give you peace."

The boy relaxed at these hopeful words, but soon after he drew his last, shuddering breath. Kipril shook his head in disgust at such a waste of a young life, took up the dead boy, and had soon vanished aback the ever swift Kaza, grateful that his own mortal master, though gruff and distant, had never been abusive. Kipril dismounted with his burden and made his way into the keep,

Lyra dashed up with curiosity and eagerness nearly radiating from her person. She gasped in horror when she saw what it was he carried; he said grimly, as he laid the boy gently on the paving stones, "I am sorry, there is not much you can do for this one, Lyra. How fare your patients?"

She shrugged, "they are still abed, hardly believing what they have seen or that they were somehow spared from it. They shall not trouble you." The last was said with a great deal of confusion, certainly wondering what he was about.

He smiled at her bewilderment and said, "fear not, you shall soon see what is afoot." She seemed on the verge of saying something else but Corbin and the centaurs emerged from the part of the castle that housed the library.

"Kipril!" came the astonished voice of the young Keeper, asked he somewhat awkwardly, "You are well?"
Kipril beamed, "never better, and you? How fares the task the Master set you and Grim?"

The boy glowed, "it is a miracle certainly! The entire city is enthralled with all we have to say; we have not room enough for all of our students! Grim sent me back here to pick up a few books he thinks would be helpful..." He trailed off as he stared in astonishment at the bleeding form at Kipril's feet.

Kipril said quietly, "death is not the end, only the beginning." Lyra and Corbin exchanged a puzzled look but said nothing as Kipril made for the gate, "if you will excuse me, I shall return shortly." He dashed from the castle as the two humans looked to the centaurs for answer. They only shrugged and flicked their tails lazily, time would reveal what it would.

The boy dashed down the path to the hidden cave, which his strange eyes easily saw. The bear snored on without waking as the boy passed unnoticed, like a ray of sunshine. The great ursine creature mumbled in his sleep and rolled to his other side at the sound of someone drawing water from the forbidden pool, but he did not stir as the boy made his way back to the castle. He returned to find his friends awaiting him in complete befuddlement while the centaurs had returned to their own tasks. They said nothing as he knelt beside the lifeless form and poured water from his flask upon the inert boy. To their astonishment, the boy gasped and started to sit up. He looked about himself in wonder and awe; he shared a delighted smile with Kipril and then nodded cordially in greeting to the two astounded mortals, before standing and giving them a more formal bow.

Lyra smiled in amazement, "this is quite the miracle!"

Kipril grinned, "if you are going to spend much time in this place, you had best get used to such strange phenomena."

Corbin shook his head in wonder, "amazing, but I have seen stranger things still in this place." He shared a smile with Kipril. Bayard, the newcomer, looked at him curiously. Corbin smiled ruefully and said, "it is a long story, but come, first you must tell us your own?"

The boy shrugged as they all made their way out of the castle and down the path that led to the sea cliffs. He said as they walked, "there is not much to tell. I was a happy little boy who lived with his mother and older brother; we were destitute but never lacking in love. My father had died at sea shortly after I was born, leaving us penniless, but we somehow survived. At least until my mother died. We had no relatives or anyone who would care to take us in. We found ourselves very soon enslaved and sold to a rather dreadful man. We worked hard, but never hard enough to suit him. He beat us often. I guess this time he went too far. I only wonder what will come of my brother in my absence?"

Kipril laid an encouraging hand on his shoulder, "his fate, as well as ours, is firmly in our Master's keeping. Take heart!" The boy smiled eagerly and then glanced about curiously. A short distance below, the sea roared and fretted at the base of the cliff; the whole cliff face that rose above them was riddled with ancient caves. He looked to Kipril in growing eagerness. The boy answered the unasked question, "we need to get you mounted if you are to be of any use in this service." Kipril looked to Corbin, "can you whistle up one of the beasts?"

Corbin grinned, "I can try, it has been some time, however and I wonder how many are still here?" He did as requested and a roar of eager surprise came from one of the nearest caves. The sea drake emerged from her lair and cocked her head, to stare at the boy she once knew. She keened a greeting and nudged Corbin with her head, he obligingly scratched it for her. Kipril handed his flask to Corbin and said, "give her a sip of this." The boy frowned but did as he was instructed. She snorted in surprise and then squawked in wonder. The others gasped in awe to see a Sundrake suddenly appear before them where once a common sea drake had been.

The newly awakened creature stared about herself in astonishment and confusion, as she tried to process everything of which she was so suddenly aware. She frowned down at the humans beneath her and her eyes roiled in irritation, as she snarled, "you expect what of me?"

Kipril silently asked Kaza to join them and the noble creature suddenly appeared in the air above them. The boy silently commented, "that was fast."

Kaza replied just as silently, "you said it was urgent?" He glanced at the new drake and added, "which it certainly is."

Kaza's appearance had distracted her for a moment, but as he landed, her original fury returned. She snarled at the newly arrived drake, "do you truly demean yourself in this manner?"

Kaza cocked his head and asked, "demean myself? How so madam?"

She snorted in derision, "you actually allow these pesky creatures upon your back?"

Kaza frowned in incomprehension, "I do not understand? How is it demeaning to do that for which our race was made?"

She hissed, "I will do no such thing! Now that I have a rational mind, I will not be used as a beast of burden. That is fine for a mindless brute, but not for a thinking creature. I will be a slave to no one."

Kipril said quietly, "I spent my entire life a slave, this is not slavery but true freedom."

She snorted in disgust, "if it is true freedom, then I have a choice and I say no."

Kipril shook his head, "that is the same attitude that led to man's downfall in the Beginning. Such rebellion against our Master cannot come without a price."

Laughed she, "then let him come and punish me if he will. I shall be my own mistress and decide what is best for me." Suddenly, she was no longer a Sundrake, as her hide took on the hue of dried blood; she keened in surprise, "what has happened?! I felt such power only a moment ago and now, it is gone!" She turned baleful eyes upon Kipril, "what have you done?"

Kipril shook his head, "it is none of my doing. You have refused your Master's call, thus your full potential will never be realized and you have been thus cursed for your rebellion." She hissed in fury and lashed out at the boy, but her claws passed harmlessly through him.

Kaza whistled, "she is mortal!"

She turned furious eyes upon the other drake and snarled, "what of it? I am still Queen of my own destiny." Kipril sent a silent plea to Kaza, who immediately snatched up Lyra and bore the horrified girl back to the keep. Corbin had drawn closer to his companions, as it became clear the creature was truly dangerous. His fearful movements drew her merciless gaze, as she snarled in delight, "I remember you! Never content to walk, you always made me your slave when I had not mind enough to resent it. Let us see if you are as impervious to my claws as your companion."

"No!" shouted Kipril, but it was too late, the creature's teeth made short work of the boy; she seemed to relish the taste of his blood.

Her hide darkened to deepest black and her eyes sparkled like rubies. She slashed at Bayard, but he too was apparently beyond her reach. She hissed in fury and pleasure, "I cannot take my revenge on the two of you perhaps, but there is a whole world waiting for me to lay it waste. I will start with that wretched castle and your precious monks."

She took wing and made for the castle that perched on the heights; Kaza suddenly appeared and the boys scrambled aboard, Kipril bearing what little was left of Corbin. The Sundrake vanished and reappeared in the courtyard of the castle, ere the beast arrived. Lyra and the centaurs scattered to make way for the sudden appearance of a Sundrake in their midst. They looked in horror upon what had come of the poor Keeper. The beast roared overhead, hovering over the keep, bringing all attention to bear upon her. There was no time to mourn their fallen comrade.

"Enough," came the Voice that commands the stars. Every creature present found itself upon its knees as the Master stepped into their midst. The hovering monster laughed in derision, thinking she could best such a miniscule creature. He glanced up at the beast and asked simply, "you have Refused?" She trumpeted her defiance to the skies. He asked, "you have murdered My servant and intend this to be but the beginning of the havoc you wish to wreak?" She roared in eagerness. He stared at her with those wonderful, terrible eyes and even she had to squeak in fear to find herself the target of that gaze.

She trembled in midair, wondering why she had thought this such a great idea after all, but instead of seeking redemption, she snarled her insolence and dared Him to do His worst. "Very well," said He, as a judge bored with such a common crime, passed down his verdict, "as you have Chosen this wretched state, so shall you continue until you have sense enough to return to Me. You will not, however, be allowed to wreak destruction upon the rest of creation. Therefore, I shall send you to a great island, far from any civilized land where you may live out the rest of your days. You shall find all you need and more to survive quite comfortably. But if you ever willingly leave that place, you shall die. So shall all of your race be banished thence when they choose to use their power to hurt their fellow creatures. Be gone!" She squawked in surprise and suddenly vanished.

He then turned His gentle eyes upon the ruin that was all the mortal remnants of Corbin. He touched the unmoving mass with His horn and roused the boy to life. He looked up with joy into the face of his Master and then shared a wondrous look with the others. The Master shook His head, "I will no longer call an unthinking beast to conscious awareness lest such happen again. They will be much easier to manage, at least from a mortal perspective, when they are born rather than made. If one turns to evil, it can be dealt with ere it is fully grown and a greater menace to others. They will again be found among the clutches of the sea drakes and will seek out those to whom they are bound when the time is right."

He turned His great eyes upon Lyra and said, "child, would you be of far more benefit to those who come here seeking knowledge, sanctuary, or healing?" She nodded meekly but eagerness glowed in her eyes as He touched her with His horn, "you are still mortal, but you will not age though you can be killed, much like the centaurs who assist you. You shall be able to heal any mortal injury or sickness save death and you shall have a deep understanding of all those things mortal men should know of Me. I also grant you the wisdom you shall need to instruct and guide those who come to you looking for purpose, meaning, and direction. All such shall be granted to you as long as you remain here in My service. Should you choose to go back to a more usual life, so too shall your skills and lifespan become again those common to mortal men." And then He was gone. They exchanged a wondering look and were silent for many minutes in sheer awe at the Presence they had just experienced.

When they could finally speak, Corbin asked, "what came of the drake?"

Kipril quickly explained, and then told the full tale of what had happened by the caves for the benefit of Lyra and the centaurs. He smiled at Lyra, "and what will you do with your newfound skills?"

She grinned, "newfound? I have been at this for some little time now, the Master has just granted me a skillset that will be invaluable to all those that will inevitably be drawn to this place. Now I can do my job all the better." She looked to Corbin curiously, "shall you return to the capital?"

He smiled ruefully, "I do not know how I am going to explain to Grim that I got myself killed on so simple an errand, but I am no longer in the service of the Keepers." He exchanged an enthusiastic grin with Kipril and Bayard, saying, "I now serve the Knights."

Kaza glanced about and asked, "how are we to get the two of you mounted if we have to wait for the next generation of Sundrakes to hatch and mature?"

Kipril laughed, "you forget, my dear friend, that we exist outside of time and are not subject to its whims. We can be Whenever we need to be. That is, if you do not mind giving our friends a lift?"

Kaza shook his head, "of course, hop aboard lads."

Lyra gaped, "I know you are larger than a normal drake, but will you not be hard pressed to bear three passengers?"

Kaza blinked in amusement, "nay dear lady, these rascals do not actually weigh anything. I could carry a dozen if it suited me." He frowned, "I had better get these lads mounted or I will be carrying a dozen. Farewell."

"Wait!" grinned Corbin, "My books!" Lyra shook her head but fetched the forgotten tomes, handed them to the boy, and Kaza soon lofted himself into the air and vanished.

They landed in a field outside the capital and all three dismounted. Kaza stretched lazily and said, "I shall await you here. I do not think this great city holds any interest for me, neither would the rulers thereof be happy with the commotion I would certainly cause."

They bid him adieu and made their way into the city, clad as three farm boys. Corbin asked of Bayard, "have you any idea what we have gotten ourselves into?"

Bayard shook his head and grinned like a maniac, "no, but it shall truly be an adventure!"

Kipril laughed, "you will soon figure things out and I won't need to lead you around by the hand."

Corbin smiled, "it will be I that am leading this expedition, as I am certainly the most urbane and civilized amongst us."

Kipril shook his head in amusement, "you mean you are the only one who has not spent the majority of his life a slave in some remote corner of Vesper. Though it does help that you've been one of the leading Keepers in the city these past months. It shall be interesting to see what you and Grim have wrought."

Corbin shook his head, "no, what the Master has wrought through us. It is none of our doing, come!" He led on eagerly and the others followed hastily after, lest they be lost in the crowds.

Corbin was right, the former palace was filled with people who bustled about eagerly in pursuit of all that the Keepers taught. Kipril smiled appreciatively, "this certainly exceeds anything we accomplished in that crumbling castle!"

Bayard smiled, "now your castle serves a completely different purpose, perhaps a better one."

Kipril replied, "not better, just different. The Keepers have a more important role than ever will we, theirs is the privilege to spread the Master's words abroad."

They had entered the main vestibule of the great building and Corbin led them through the winding corridors to a little room at the very back that Grim had taken for his own use. Corbin knocked in a certain manner, a voice asked them to enter, and so they did. Grim sat behind a desk with a stack of papers and books before him, he smiled to see Corbin returned, and then looked curiously at his companions. His eyes widened in surprise as he recognized Kipril, but he said nothing as Corbin greeted his former master and set the requested books on his desk.

Grim said, "it is good to have you back lad, but you have returned with strange companions."

Corbin was about to reply when the door swung open and a black swathed man burst into the room. He sneered at the three boys, pushed them aside in his haste to approach the man behind the desk, and then cackled in delight as he raised his hands to work some vile spell. Corbin rolled his eyes at the Wraith's dramatics, drew his dagger, and pierced the creature through the heart. It hissed as it melted into nothingness.

Corbin put up his weapon and continued as if the whole episode had never happened, "as I was about to say before we were so rudely interrupted." He waited for Grim to close his gaping mouth and continued, "there has been a minor incident at the keep and I am afraid I must resign from the Keepers."

Grim shook himself and stared at his former pupil, "you had best start at the beginning."

The boys exchanged an impish grin as Corbin told the whole tale. The astounded Grim shook his head, "that is quite the story, I would not believe it had I not seen you dispatch that creature so easily or had you not arrived in company with one I know to live beyond death. This news you bring of the Sundrakes is quite interesting in itself. How are the creatures to be managed?"

Kipril grinned, "they will manage themselves I think. Do you mind if I haunt your school for a time? This will not be the last assassination attempt I think, or at least it won't be the Enemy's last attempt to infiltrate or discredit your school."

Grim smiled wryly, "I doubt there would be anything I could do to stop you, but you are most welcome lad!" He laughed heartily, "besides, I need someone to replace my best teacher!"

They all shared a smile and then Bayard said, "we had best be off."

Corbin nodded, "as I have been replaced, let us be about our own business." They bowed and vanished from the room. Grim looked at Kipril in wonder, but the boy only smiled.

The boys exited the school unremarked and moved towards the marketplace where they exchanged an excited grin and parted company, each off on his first adventure. Bayard had not gone far when he felt a firm grip on his shoulder and a hulking figure turned him about and snarled with horrid breath not a hand's breadth from his face, "you! Thought you could run away, did you? Well, we'll see about that!"

Bayard's former master took him by the collar and dragged him back to the sleazy inn where he was staying. He took his half-starved beast from the stables, drew the boy into the saddle before him, and together they set forth for home, the man grumbling all the way about runaway slaves in between swigs from his flask. He had come to town to find a replacement for the missing boy and was quite astonished to find the nuisance himself, so it seemed to him a wasted trip, why could the wretch not have stayed home in the first place and save him the trouble? They arrived at the dilapidated farmstead a few awkward days later. The man snarled, "go find your brother. In the morning I have a plan for the both of you." He laughed darkly and went into the house.

Bayard stared curiously after but soon hastened to find his sundered sibling. He found Hern in the loft of the barn, in their usual sleeping place. The boy gasped in wonder to see his missing brother alive. He scurried down from the loft and stared at what he thought to be a ghost and stuttered, "I saw him beat you nigh unto death! Then that stranger came and you both vanished suddenly from my sight. What has happened?"

Bayard embraced his flummoxed sibling and said, "I am here and no ghost, as you can see. There is something I must accomplish here, but then I will be gone again upon other errands."

Hern hissed, "but the master!"

Bayard grinned, "holds no power over me. You must trust our true Master."

Hern frowned, "you still believe those old tales that mother used to tell? Where was he when we were sold to the likes of that brutal drunk? Where was he the day you vanished?"

Bayard shook his head, "where He has always been, beside us and within us, assuming we believe! I have seen things to make your heart stop with joy! You must have faith brother, for the tales are true. He never promised an easy road, not in this fallen world, but He promised never to leave us alone upon it. And to that He has been true."

Hern shook his head, "whatever makes you happy. Come, we had best get some rest, the master has grim plans for the morrow." They climbed into the loft and waited for morning.

Dawn came and their master furiously demanded to know why they were still abed. He pointed at the path leading down to the beach, if path it could be called. He laughed darkly and ordered them to descend the steep incline that was more vertical than horizontal. They slid and scrambled their way down the rickety ladders, narrow steps, and steep trail that descended to the Sea. Said their master in grim amusement as they reached the bottom, "now we will see what you wretches are worth. There was a wild drake that nested down here, the eggs hatched, and the young are nearly fledged. You two are going to catch one for me or your lives will be worth nothing. There is one I especially want. They say the Sundrake is dead, but I have seen it. One of the little brutes must be the famed creature and it will be mine."

They exchanged a curious look and dashed out onto the sand, both wondering how they were to accomplish this strange deed, as neither had any idea of what to do with a drake, tame or wild, let alone the legendary Sundrake. Bayard had his ideas but nothing he could broach to his brother. "Wait," snarled their master, "you will need fresh meat to attract the brutes. They have not been tamed to people and only food will bring them." He raised his dagger and slashed viciously at the nearest boy; Hern fell to his knees with a shriek, clutching at his ruined chest and gasping for air.

Bayard grabbed the mortally wounded boy by the shoulders and dragged him away from the knife wielding maniac that had been their master. His lust for gold had overcome what little remained of his sanity, eroded as it was by years of constant drink. He jeered and hollered at them, but Bayard did not heed him and Hern was beyond caring, having slumped into unconsciousness. The drakes had fled with the sudden scent of blood and the cacophony erupting from the drunk, all save one. The creature the murderer so desperately desired approached the two boys, sniffing curiously at the moribund lad with a mournful keen. He looked Corbin deep in the eyes, bugled in triumph, leapt upon the prone boy, and all three suddenly vanished. The old drunkard swooned in horror, cracked his skull upon a stone, and never moved more.

The two boys and the fledgling suddenly appeared in the midst of the crumbling keep, Lyra rushed to their side only moments after they materialized. She laid a firm hand on the stricken Hern and immediately he gasped back to consciousness, glancing about himself in wonder. Bayard drew the shaky boy to his feet and said, "do you believe in miracles now?"

Hern shook his head in wonder, "I am starting to, where are we? How did we get here and how is it I still live?" He gasped as the centaurs came trotting up and looked awkwardly at his feet as Lyra tried to comfort him. The young Sundrake squawked in hunger and Bayard urged the creature to venture down to the Sea and hunt; it keened its approval and quickly vanished out of the keep. Hern continued to stare in mystification as Bayard tried to explain a little of what had happened, there were things he could not reveal to his brother and others that he would not understand.

"Perhaps you would like to speak with others who have been here a little longer?" asked she. The boy nodded dazedly and she led him deeper into the keep; Lyra smiled warmly over her shoulder at Bayard as she walked away.

Corbin found his way out of the city to the field where Kaza lay dozing in the sun. The great beast wakened at the boy's approach and shifted lazily to his feet. He greeted the boy, "need a lift lad?" Corbin grinned and nodded his agreement. He leapt to the creature's back, they were soon aloft, and vanished, though no mortal eye could see them. The drake left him on a sun soaked stretch of beach where he took cover behind several boulders that jutted like teeth from stony gums. Kaza bid him farewell and vanished as suddenly as he had come, leaving the boy for a moment alone.

Corbin knew himself now visible to mortal eyes as he cautiously crept from behind the boulders. He made his way down the beach, following the sound of what could only be a struggle. And struggle it was, for a clutch of drake eggs was hatching and each little creature was fighting desperately to free itself of its ovoid prison. A smile came unbidden to the boy's lips as he watched the hatchlings emerge into the weird and wild world that was now their home. So enchanted was he with the miracle before him that he failed to notice the other person with whom he shared the spectacle.

The other roughly cleared his throat, drawing a surprised gasp from Corbin, but finally getting his attention. "These creatures are mine," said the young man, "or at least the pick of them is. Long have I searched, and I will not give up what I have sought so long without a fight."

Corbin cocked his head, "I have no interest in these common drakes, by all means take those you please."

The young man smiled slightly, "I see you are no seeker after common things either. I could have my pick of drakes in the Kingdom, wild or tame, but alas, it is no Sea Drake that will satisfy me. This clutch looks to be a disappointment as well, only one egg remains and that has not yet even rocked or moved. Perhaps it will not even hatch."

Corbin asked, "what is it you seek?"

The stranger smiled grandly, "I wish to possess a Sundrake."

The boy gasped, "but it cannot be."

The man scoffed, "the creatures are quite real, and if rumor holds true, there are more in existence than the one foretold in legend. It is said even the meanest of slaves have tamed the creatures. And I will have one! I, who have searched all these years, and to no avail. Do you know that I was in the very place where the legendary Sundrake initially appeared, yet I missed it, perhaps by days and now the creature is gone! I am no wretched laborer, I am my master's greatest servant and only heir, though I am by rights a slave, I am treated more as a favored son and it is my master's joy to let me do as I please, which is to seek a Sundrake of my own."

Corbin shook his head, "but this new generation of Sundrakes are not foolish beasts as their Sea Drake forbears or even as the first of such beasts, they are sentient and thinking creatures! They bond or not with whom it pleases them."

The young man scoffed, "what would you know of the matter? Peasant that you are."

Corbin's smile was enigmatical as he replied, "perhaps more than you think. What is this you say of slaves claiming such creatures?"

Michel, the young man, said, "it has been whispered about that the creatures sometimes bond with men, even the most pitiful or wretched, at hatching and will heed no one else. I am determined to be present when one of the creatures hatches and will thereby claim it for my own."

Corbin sat back thoughtfully, could it be true? That mortal men could forge a bond with such a creature! How could it be so? Then he knew to the core of his being, that though such a bond could be forged betwixt a mortal and an immortal creature, it could not last long in such an unequal state, for mortality must very soon give way to eternity or the bond would be broken. He shuddered to think that the creatures were actually harbingers of doom to those they enthralled. Then he smiled, for were there not more wondrous things beyond the door that was death? He had better quit thinking upon such matters like a mortal man and remember to see things from an eternal perspective, for that was now his point of view and perhaps ever should have been.

He shivered in delight, the final egg had started to rock. The two boys said nothing but shared an eager gaze, though Michel's held something of jealousy amidst the zeal. The occupant hissed and snarled its frustration as the egg rocked violently and finally tiny claws tore through the leathery shell. The creature struggled free and shone forth like a sunset; Michel gasped in wonder, pushing Corbin roughly aside as he dove for the hatchling.

Corbin backed away from the overeager boy, waiting to see what choice the creature would make. Michel offered it a tidbit of meat, which the ravenous hatchling devoured unquestioningly. It keened happily as it gorged itself on the proffered fare. Finally sated, it glanced about sleepily at its human companions. It ignored the squawks and whistles of its clutchmates but studied Michel intently. He slowly reached toward the creature, but it squawked indignantly and snapped at the offending hand. Michel cried out in pain, quickly withdrawing his injured hand. The hatchling then studied Corbin intently, but then hissed in sudden frustration and withdrew from the two boys even as its scales dulled to the color of dried blood. Michel tried to pursue it, but this time the creature drew blood and his hide darkened to black while his eyes glowed like embers, before he suddenly vanished with a surprised squawk.

Michel stared at Corbin in disbelief, "what just happened?"

Corbin shook his head in wonder, "the creatures were brought into the world for a purpose and in denying that purpose, they lose some part of themselves, and the Master has decried that any such creature that tastes human blood or are intent on destruction will summarily be banished from the lands of men."

Michel mourned, "this makes no sense. The Master? You believe those old fairy tales too?"

Corbin grinned, "was it not such prophecies that foretold the advent of the Sundrake?"

Michel sneered, "and what came of it? Nothing!"

Corbin said quietly, "perhaps more than you know."

Michel stared at the strange boy, "what then would you have me do?"

Corbin smiled, "why not hear what the Keepers have to say or perhaps visit that strange island which is said to be where the first Sundrake disappeared."

"Now you speak sense," said the boy with a vague smile, "I could care less about your Keepers but perhaps there are clues on that mysterious island. Will you accompany me?"

Corbin nodded, "I must, else I am afoot and alone."

The young man whistled in a particular manner and soon the shadow of a Sea Drake darkened the beach where they stood, as she screeched eagerly overhead, circling for a landing. She touched down and they scrambled aboard. Corbin grinned, having forgotten what it was to actually fly from one place to another instead of just to suddenly appear. They flew on in silence, and as the sun set, Corbin saw the familiar island beneath them. The creature landed, with barely light enough to see, and her passengers dismounted.

Lyra dashed out of the keep to greet the new arrivals, a little taken aback to see that one of them was Corbin aback a normal drake. A silent question passed between them and he shook his head minutely in reply. She nodded slightly and then turned to the stranger, asking after their flight and his reason for visiting. Michel walked beside the talkative girl and gave a full account of what he was seeking as Corbin silently followed, wondering what the misguided boy would find in this place. The centaurs stood in the courtyard, their tails swishing occasionally in agitation, but otherwise showing no sign of their concern.

Michel gasped at the legendary creatures and turned to stare at Corbin, "what other wonders will I see in this place?"

Corbin shook his head, "if you keep an open heart and mind, who knows?"

Michel smiled slightly, "we shall see, I suppose. Lead on fair lady." Lyra and her guest vanished into the keep to get Michel settled for the night.

Corbin climbed up on the crumbling battlements and stared out at the night dark Sea while the stars grew bright overhead. He knew not how long he stood there, absorbing the peace and beauty of the scene, but suddenly he noticed Bayard beside him, a half-grown Sundrake perched on the wall on his far side, her head under her wing. Corbin grinned at his friend, "I see your attempts have been more successful than mine."

Bayard smiled ruefully, "actually, you should remember my first attempt quite well."

Corbin laughed, "I had almost forgotten about that. Strange, that I could forget something that eventful. My attempt was nowhere near so exciting."

Corbin glanced at the dozing lizard and said thoughtfully, "there is a boy here whose sole purpose in life is to tame a Sundrake, I tried to talk him out of it, but he persists in his ambitions. You may want to keep yours disguised if you can." Bayard glanced at the creature, she murmured something in her sleep, and was suddenly a slate gray color, nearly blending with the night. Corbin smiled in amusement and continued, "he also mentioned something about mortal men taming the creatures."

Bayard nodded, "I have heard similar rumors; it would certainly make things a little more efficient if we did not necessarily have to wait until afterwards to find our appointed companions, but it cannot be an easy thing for a mortal mind to wrap itself around. One moment you have bonded with one of the most legendary creatures on the planet, the next might very well be your last." Noise was heard below as the mortal occupants of the castle gathered for the evening meal. The pair exchanged a grin and hurried below, hungry for company, if not for food. The drake slept on.

Lyra was just setting the bread on the table when the boys entered the kitchen; she smiled to see them but the others did not seem to notice their appearance. The centaurs did not fit very well in the confines of the kitchen and were far more comfortable outside than indoors, so rarely joined Lyra and her companions for meals. The two mercenaries were finally out of bed and starting to delve deeper into the mysterious things they had suddenly found themselves in the midst of, Hern was curious but skeptical, and Michel found himself fast friends with the three of them, as they seemed the only sensible creatures on the island. Hern had quietly mentioned that his brother was 'different' and his close company with Corbin marked the other boy as something strange himself.

When asked about Sundrakes, the mercenaries grew strangely quiet and Hern whispered, "my brother and those like him are often seen in company with the beasts. Ask them if you must. I want nothing to do with it myself and our dear companions here have their own tale of terror to impart, if they ever recover enough to recount it without a relapse." Michel shivered, wondering what he had embroiled himself in.

Bayard and Corbin took seats across from the others and made introductions all around though no one seemed too interested in making further acquaintance, at least among those that still drew breath. Lyra tried to make small talk, but it was an awkward meal for all until Corbin and Bayard took their leave. Lyra sadly watched them go and then hastened off to finish the cleanup, leaving the four men alone. "What is this strange place?" asked Michel once they could talk freely, "There is something distinctly unnatural about those two, even the girl seems to have a slight aura of it about her."

The others nodded and Hern grimaced, "there is nothing remotely natural about it. I saw my brother beaten, literally to death. When next I saw him, I was at the point of death and he magicked me here where the girl healed my wounds just by touching me."

One of the mercenaries interjected, "we've seen horrible things, survived horrors you would not believe. Seen things no mortal mind can comprehend. Aye, this is a strange place and its denizens are even weirder. Leave now if you value your sanity."

Michel said grimly, "I want to solve the mystery of the Sundrakes and this seems to be a place where they can be found on occasion. I will remain until I learn all they have to teach me on the subject." He stared at the others, "why do you remain if you are so terrified of all that passes here?"

They exchanged a mystified look and shrugged, "there is something here that draws a man in, makes him curious, urges him to look deeper. It makes you thirsty for something you cannot put a name to. I guess we don't want to completely dismiss or abandon whatever this 'thing' is that calls to our very souls without trying to discover what it is." Michel could only shake his head in wonder; he would never be drawn in.

Morning found Michel in the courtyard, greeting the dawn with a great yawn and a stretch. He glanced about him, no one seemed to be about at this early hour so he thought to poke about the sea caves his friends had mentioned the previous night. He left the keep and followed the path down towards the Sea. There were too many caves to explore them all thoroughly in a lifetime, but most were empty with no recent sign of drake activity. A few hosted a sleepy drake, that blinked dazedly at this early intruder, but there was no sign that there had ever been anything but Sea Drakes here for the last thousand years. He spent a few agitated minutes flinging rocks into the surf as he contemplated his next move, finally his angry stomach reminded him that his most pressing need was breakfast. Resignedly, he ascended to the keep in search of company and the morning meal.

Lyra greeted him as he returned to the keep and she asked after his morning explorations. He mournfully told her that there was not a Sundrake to be found in the caves below. She laughed merrily, "Sundrakes are not Sea Drakes, sir, they do not lurk in seaside cliffs or even linger very often upon the coast. Once hatched, they go whither their companions are wont to be."

He sighed, "then I must find one at its hatching?"

She shook her head sadly, "nay sir, you will never bond with such a creature with such a heart. They are not beasts to be tamed, but thinking creatures intended to partner with mankind about the Master's business. Unless you are one of the Master's servants, never will you gain such a companion and even then it is far from guaranteed, for the service He asks of each of us varies considerably."

Michel stared at her, "how do you know all of this?"

Lyra shrugged, "I have seen a great many things in my time here and more is found in the old records; some of it I just seem to know."

Michel frowned, "you say I have no chance with one of the creatures unless I submit myself willingly to this Master of yours?"

She nodded, "others have tried to force the matter and the results were disastrous. Know you not what came of the first Sundrake?"

Michel shook his head and she briefly recounted the tale for him. He shivered in horror and then stared at her in wonder, "so the first beast was merely a beast but these new creatures are immortal and intelligent? Fascinating, but I am not convinced that I cannot forge a lasting bond with one of the creatures, even though I refuse to acknowledge your Master as Lord."

She shook her head grimly, "can you not see the warning in my tale? Selfishness and pride are what led to the downfall of the first Sundrake and all those who sought it unworthily. Will you lose your soul for such small chance of gain?"

Michel shook his head and said, "lady, it is my only ambition in this life and I do not believe in anything thereafter. I thank you for your warning, but I will continue as I must. Am I ever to see one of these legendary creatures in this peculiar place?"

She shrugged, "they appear now and again, but one can never know for certain when."

They went in to breakfast and Michel desperately asked his companions the same questions he had asked the night before. They stared at him blankly, having no new insight to give and wondering why their previous explanation was not satisfactory. With a harrumph, Michel seated himself and glowered over his porridge, in a dreadful mood but determined to attain his goal, regardless of the hindrance these superstitious fools might prove. The minute one of the creatures appeared, he would act. As if summoned, Ian peeped into the kitchen and asked after Lyra. She smiled at him and quickly excused herself, following quickly after the retreating form.

Michel left his untouched gruel and crept out into the courtyard. He saw nothing strange within the confines of the castle, but the boy had to arrive somehow. The pair had obviously gone to the library so Michel was free to investigate the boy's mode of transportation. He emerged from the castle and smiled in triumph as his eyes fell upon a full grown female Sundrake, perched upon the cliff's edge. She cocked her head at him but did not seem overly concerned by his presence. He approached boldly, but cautiously, remembering his dealings with the vicious hatchling.

"Could I help you?" asked she.

Michel stepped back in amazement, sentient indeed! He had never imagined the creatures could speak! Overcoming his wonder, Michel said politely, "I am desperately in need of your aid madam."

"Yes?" crooned she, spreading her wings eagerly.

Michel continued, "I have ever wanted...well...have always dreamed...your species intrigues me madam."

She cocked her head anew, "most creatures find other races fascinating I suppose, but I think your true meaning is that you have always desired to possess such a rare and beautiful creature?" The boy's jaw dropped in astonishment at her insight but she continued apace, "my race, at least those who remain in the Master's service, have never known falsehood, therefore we cannot be led astray by untruths. But know this, you can never possess another sentient being as you wish, though your poor race seems to think slavery an acceptable practice. A soul can belong to none but the Master and Him alone. My race and yours are partners in accomplishing the tasks our Master sets us, we are not beasts to be tamed or treasures to be possessed. Serve the Master with a true heart and perhaps you may one day gain this service, but then again, perhaps you never shall."

Groused he, "why must everyone tell me I must submit to this mythical Master?"

She shook her head, "it is the only sensible thing to do, but then even some of my own kin have decided to follow their own path, much to their loss."

He brightened, "then perhaps one of your so-called fallen kin will aid me?"

She snorted, "if they will not deign to serve the One who made them, what makes you think they will serve a mere man?"

Ian and Lyra approached, both curious as to what the odd pair had been speaking about. Michel glowered at Ian, "this beast is as deluded as the rest of you! I will have a Sundrake!" He stormed away and whistled for his drake; moments later, they were aloft and vanished quickly from sight. The three shared an aghast look, but they could do nothing to stop whatever it was he intended.

Michel landed the beast on a sunny stretch of beach in the middle of the afternoon, this seemed a good place to look for Sea Drake eggs and his beast needed a rest. He sighed, wondering if he would ever have his wish. He signaled the beast out to Sea that it might feed and refresh itself, it crooned eagerly and quickly obeyed. Michel combed the beach but found no sign of Sea Drakes or their offspring. He sighed again, even as his stomach reminded him that he had had no breakfast. An errant breeze brought the smell of a cook fire to his nose and he smiled, perhaps there was time for an early supper. He made his way in the direction of the stimulating smell and soon came upon a small, neat cottage. A woman sat outside the door, attending to her sewing in the pleasant weather. She looked up and saw the visitor and smiled in greeting, immediately laying aside her work and preparing to properly receive her guest.

"Well met, sir," said she, "would you care for something to drink? Perhaps you are also hungry?" Michel smiled eagerly and gladly accepted her hospitality. As he sat over a cold lunch, she chattered on gaily, "we so seldom see strangers this far out. I have a son about your age, he should be back this evening. He will be quite excited to see a young man for a change, poor dear, hardly ever sees anyone but his old mother."

"Where is the boy?" asked Michel curiously.

"Ah," said she proudly, "he keeps a herd of runners, trains them himself he does and does a fine job of it too, if I say it myself. The creatures hunt small vermin out in the fields and he brings them in for shelter of an evening."

Michel said almost disinterestedly, "runners, eh? Certainly useful beasts, but I am a drake enthusiast myself."

"Oh!" said the woman eagerly, "Ethan will be quite ecstatic about that I am sure. We hardly know a thing about the beasts, but he has a young one he has been trying to raise. Poor dear, washed up in a storm a fortnight ago. I've seen very few drakes in my time, but this creature looked downright ill if you ask me. The color was all wrong, but Ethan is convinced it will turn out all right. There's none better at nursing stock, not to my knowledge. If anyone can help the poor beast it is him, but maybe you could give him a few pointers and help him along?"

Michel smiled in grim eagerness, "I would most certainly like to see this creature and give it what help I can." She smiled grandly and continued to potter about the house, continuing to prattle on as the day faded into evening.

Soon, the hissing and grunts, common to a herd of runners, were heard in the yard, as was the cracking voice of a young man directing the beasts to their evening retreat. He locked the creatures in their pen and came into the house, greeting his mother brightly as he entered. Ethan stopped mid-sentence in surprise, having laid eyes upon Michel, whose smile deepened as he saw the young Sundrake twined round the boy's neck. The lady made introductions and chivied her only offspring to wash up for supper. The boy dashed off to complete his ablutions, anxious to speak with a stranger his own age. They took their seats for the evening meal, Ethan barely restraining himself to polite inanities until his mother excused them from the table and sent them off to talk while she cleaned up.

Once outside under the glorious sky, Ethan nearly burst, "you know something of drakes then?"

Michel nodded, "my own beast waits for me down on the beach there, trained her from a hatchling I did. I see you have lately acquired a rather unique specimen."

Ethan looked down proudly at the creature twined about his shoulders, "yes, she seems quite intent on not letting me out of her sight though I know nothing of drakes. Her color does seem a bit odd, it almost minds me of a legend I once heard."

Michel scoffed, "ah, yes, the legendary Sundrake. Never mind that old story, your creature is certainly not the stuff of legend. In fact, small and weak as she is, I do not think she will survive without skilled care."

Ethan's eyes widened in horror, "truly?"

Michel continued, "I might be able to bring her through this difficult stage, hopefully I have come in time."

Ethan frowned, "I just can't give her up."

"Oh, no!" said Michel placatingly, "I would ask no such thing of you. I will give you my own fully grown and wonderfully trained drake for your poor, ill creature."

Ethan shook his head, "you do not understand! If it were simply a matter of her health, I would give her into your keeping immediately and without question, but she seems to think you a scoundrel and a liar. She urges me to have nothing more to do with you."

Michel stared in astonishment, "how is it you communicate with this all knowing lizard?"

She hissed at his derisive comment and Ethan replied, "she speaks into my thoughts and seems to know mine."

Michel said in desperation, "will you not give her over to me, to spare your own life?"

The creature hissed in warning as Michel's dagger glinted in the light of the full moon. Ethan crossed his arms and stood firm, "she is not mine to give or to keep. But neither is she yours to take."

A cruel smile crossed Michel's face as he raised the dagger and said, "I will take her nonetheless." He leapt at the boy, knife in hand. Ethan cried out, the creature keened in terror, and all three suddenly vanished from that moon-soaked beach.

The same moon looked down on the pitiful scene but their surroundings had changed. No longer were they alone on a forgotten beach under the stars. Now they stood in the courtyard of a crumbling castle, though none of them for a moment paid any heed to their surroundings. Ethan lay dead on the paving stones, while the Sundrake shrieked and howled in grief and rage as Michel tried his best to capture the frantic creature. The tumult quickly drew the residents of the keep into the courtyard where they stood for a moment stunned, all save the centaurs. They scented blood long before they beheld the grievous scene and were ready for whatever tragedy had been wrought within their own keep.

Katar easily took hold of the murderous youth, who struggled futilely in his strong arms, though this did little enough to quell the riotous outrage of the bereaved creature. She keened mournfully over the mortal remains of her late friend. The three young men stared at Michel's handiwork in horror; Lyra shook her head in disgust, even as tears filled her eyes. Bayard entered the courtyard, the immature Sundrake his ever present shadow. The older creature squawked something incomprehensible at the fledgling, and the creature suddenly calmed and keened eagerly as Bayard knelt beside her slain companion. He poured the contents of his waterskin on the stricken youth and suddenly he gasped back to life. The four mortal men gasped in wonder and horror; the young Sundrake trumpeted her joy.

Ethan turned sad eyes upon his murderer and said quietly, "you must cease this selfish pursuit ere it consumes your soul. You cannot have that which you most fervently desire. Such desire should be bestowed on the Master alone, seek Him so fervently and find true life!" Michel had ceased his struggles in awe as the murdered boy sat up and began to speak; his face hardened into a frown as Ethan's words sunk in.

"What are we to do with this killer of his own kind?" asked Katar as he continued to hold the increasingly uneasy Michel, who said in his own defense, "Killer? The boy is quite alive!"

Bayard shook his head grimly as he helped Ethan to his feet, "he lives beyond death; mortal life is behind him. You have seen to that! Do you care for anyone but yourself?"

Michel shrugged, "I do what pleases me, what need have I to care for those who care nothing for me? Including your dread Master."

A great shriek shattered the night's peace; the mortals quailed in terror while the two Knights reached for swords that were not there. A drake as dark as the night hovered overhead, blocking out the moon, while the Dreadlord upon the creature's back snarled down, "would you come with me or endure the so-called mercy of these fools? I can give you what it is you desire above all things!" Michel stared in horror and awe, but a thoughtful look had entered his eyes.

Bayard said quietly, "go with him and it will doom your soul!"

Michel stared at the insolent boy, "what use have I for a soul? Especially when I stand condemned as a murderer among civilized men? I will go with this fell warrior, no longer will I keep company with such deluded fools!"

The drake howled again and carefully extended a clawed forearm to grasp the boy, still clutched in Katar's strong arms.

Bayard shook his head in disgust, "you had best let him go before the creature tears you apart trying to seize him."

The centaur looked grim but nodded, he could not best the beast and the boy had made up his mind to go with this terrible minion of evil; he could not have chosen a worse fate for himself. Once free, Michel dashed eagerly towards the monster's outstretched claws. The Dreadlord knew better than to let the beast touch the cursed ground, so he let the beast hover and allowed his prey to come to them. The beast took hold of the boy and quickly gained altitude before disappearing into the night.

"How could you let him go?" gasped Ethan.

Bayard shook his head, "it was his choice."

Ethan frowned, "but what of justice?"

Bayard shivered, "he will get worse than death at their hands." Ethan shuddered and stared off sadly in the direction the dead drake had vanished.

Kipril had spent several weeks at the school the Keepers had established in Versa, but there had been no more attempts to assassinate Grim or otherwise infiltrate or discredit the school. The whole project was a grand success, every class was overfull and people from all walks of life had come to hear what the Keepers had to say. Even the crown prince was known to frequent the halls on occasion. Kipril looked closely at the boy, thinking he was terribly thin while each breath seemed a struggle, but there was such an eagerness and hope about him that one sometimes forgot his physical shortcomings. They had spoken several times and Kipril was quite fond of the boy, who seemed energetic in their discussions though it was obviously a strain upon his person. It was during the course of one such conversation that Michel came upon the boy, knife in hand.

He had been through a horrible ordeal in the depths of that volcanic island, but they had promised him much if he was successful in the tasks they would set him; he was determined not to fail. Kipril saw what the strange boy intended but his warning came too late, the Prince turned to see what had his companion so agitated and the dagger easily found his heart. Michel fled down the hall while Kipril knelt beside the gasping Prince, who reached blindly for Kipril's hand. The boy took the bloody, outstretched fingers and tried to comfort the fading youth, but even as he took them, the hands went limp in death. He stood then, only to realize that a dozen people were staring at him in horror. He glanced down at himself and saw the spattered blood and knew what it must look like to these horrified witnesses.

A sudden cry of murder and treason erupted and Kipril allowed himself to be seized by two off-duty guardsmen. They forced him towards the door, out into the street, and towards the castle. Others took up the murdered prince and followed swiftly after, eager to see what justice would be had by the King. No one barred their way as they entered the castle and sought out the King, for Michel had come ahead, proclaiming what had happened or rather his version of it. The triumphant boy stood at the King's shoulder and smirked as the guards brought in their prisoner while the others laid the dead prince gently on the floor.

The King stared in horror, insatiable wrath roiled in his eyes as he demanded, "what is the meaning of this?"

Michel said beside him, "it is as I said Majesty, this boy is certainly one of them, he has simply acted upon what his masters have taught him. Did you not know what treachery they preach in this so-called school?"

The King snarled, "I thought these were men of peace!"

"Nay Sire," purred Michel, "They hate all who oppose them. The Prince merely disagreed with this boy on some minor detail and he stabbed him brutally!"

The King hissed, "I was a fool ever to allow your masters access to my city and people!"

Kipril frowned, "you would believe the lies of this man before even hearing the full tale?"

The King growled, "he has told me all! You and your masters and every fool who preaches such hatred will soon feel my wrath!"

Kipril shook his head, "nay Sire, the only one preaching hatred is the man at your shoulder. Who is he that you would believe his words?"

The King frowned in confusion, "but you are the one covered in blood!"

Kipril smiled sadly, "because I knelt beside my dying friend, to give what comfort I could in his last moments. It was not I that stabbed him but the man who dares to impose himself upon you."

"A likely story," sneered Michel. The King looked on the verge of violence or tears.

Kipril spared him from both by saying, "Majesty, I could not have murdered your son and I can prove it."

The King said grimly, "that you will or my wrath shall fall swiftly upon you and yours. What is your proposal?"

The boy produced a dagger from somewhere and threw it at the King; the entire assembly gasped in horror, thinking the father would meet the same fate as his beloved son, but the knife passed harmlessly through the man and lodged itself in Michel's abdomen. He shrieked in pain and fell to dust while all were silent a moment in horror, before immediately erupting into excited chatter. The guards had drawn back in terror from the uncanny boy, for he had suddenly become insubstantial to their firm grip on his shoulders. The King shuddered, "I do not understand?"

Kipril said quietly, "I cannot harm a living man, Sire. The man at your shoulder was some undead minion of evil, he it was that stabbed your son, solely to discredit the Keepers in your eyes. He did not realize that I was one of the few who could vanquish him."

The King knelt sadly beside his son and looked up pleadingly into the gentle eyes of the strange boy, "what is to come of my crown?"

Kipril shook his head, "what was to come of it previously? Your son was not well I think. He would never have lived to be crowned king."

The King nodded, "this last year he has struggled valiantly against some condition of the lungs, but alas, he was losing the battle. If my daughter could be found, there would still be hope for my throne, but alas, she too has been lost to me."

Kipril said thoughtfully, "I know where your daughter is and can see that she is returned to you. But what of your son?"

The King frowned, "he will be given a proper burial of course."

The boy smiled broadly, "what if he could yet render service to mortal men?" The King's frown deepened as Kipril continued, "Sire, do you not know me?"

The King studied the boy for a moment and then gasped, "you are the spitting image of the boy who tamed the first Sundrake, but even the Keepers say he is dead."

The boy nodded, "you are right on both counts Sire, but death need not be the end. Will you allow your son to serve the Master in similar fashion?"

The King sat down heavily, "this is a strange thing you ask, but it has been a day full of bizarre revelations. Do as you suggest, but you must also recover my daughter."

Kipril grinned, "I can accomplish both tasks simultaneously. We shall return shortly."

Kaza winged into the throne room as a small, domestic lizard and landed on Kipril's shoulder even as the boy knelt beside the slain Prince and laid a hand on the dead boy. They vanished and the watchers gasped in awe. Who was this strange boy?

Lyra cried aloud in grief when she saw who it was that Kipril bore into the keep. "No!" wept she.

Kipril shook his head, "your father asks that you return home to fulfill the duty your brother has laid aside."

She stared at him, "what is to come of the keep?"

Ethan suddenly appeared with his drake about his neck and his mother by the hand. He smiled at Lyra, "I have found your replacement."

She laughed sadly, "it seems events precede me. What of Verdin?"

Kipril smiled broadly, "what usually comes of the dead in this place?"

She clapped her hands in joy and laughed, "how could I forget!"

The late prince was soon enough roused from the grave, Mina found herself the new Mistress of the Keep, and Kipril was already aback Kaza, urging brother and sister to join him. With a triumphant roar, the Sundrake was soon aloft and vanished back to the capital. He hovered above the courtyard of the castle, allowing his passengers to dismount and then vanished again. The three made their way back into the throne room, which Kipril had vacated only minutes before.

The King stood in astonishment, tears streaming down his cheeks, he gasped, "Lyra! Verdin! My children!" Kipril stood aside and let the family exchange greetings.

Lyra said, "I have returned to fulfill my duty Sire."

Verdin bowed to his father, looking healthy for the first time in over a year, "I must beg your leave Sire, for duty now calls me elsewhere."

The King said sadly, "I will miss you my son."

Verdin grinned eagerly, "remain true to the Master Sire, and we will not be long sundered."

The King shook his head in wonder, "I must listen more closely to these Keepers of yours. Perhaps I have not learned all that I ought. May the Master bless you both." He smiled at Kipril, "thank you lad."

Kipril shook his head, "nay Sire, it was none of my doing. Thank the Master, not me."

The King laughed, "and so I shall."

"Farewell father," said Verdin with a final bow.

The King smiled sadly and both boys took their leave of the King, but had a final visit to make before leaving Versa. The school was nearly deserted, after the uproar with the crown prince. Grim paced the halls, wondering what would come of the matter. He nearly fainted in wonder when he recognized the prince coming towards him, perhaps it had all been a mistake? But then he noticed who it was that accompanied him and said, "why must you always be stealing my most promising pupils?"

Kipril grinned at his former mentor, "I thought you would be pleased with the outcome after the tragedy of the day?"

Grim smiled slightly and bowed to the late prince, "I do not know exactly what he has gotten himself or you into, but may the Master bless your efforts on His behalf." He turned questioning eyes on Kipril, "by your presence here, I assume all is well with the King?"

Verdin smiled sadly, "as well as can be expected, the man has just lost his son but also found his lost daughter." He turned to Kipril with a frown, "what was my sister doing lurking in that ruined castle?"

Grim snorted, "you were hiding the now legendary missing princess in that old ruin? It was hardly fit for a bevy of hermits, let alone a lady!"

Kipril held up his hands to ward off their accusations and smiled, "it was her own choice that brought her there and also her choice to stay. We only rescued her from drowning."

Verdin laughed, "she would seek out such an adventure I am sure. She will not be half so content trying to survive at court."

Kipril smiled, "after all the strange happenings in that place, I think she may be content with the tedium of her previous surroundings, at least for now."

Grim stared at the boy, "I have seen strange things enough, I cannot imagine what you have subjected that poor girl to on that forsaken island!"

Kipril raised his eyebrows, "me? It is none of my doing, though I suppose I have played a part in the goings on about the place."

A nervous, poorly clad boy approached the three men, nearly trembling in terror. The lad said in a barely audible whisper as he handed Grim a burlap sack, "with my master's blessing." No sooner had he handed over his burden than he turned and fled.

Grim opened the bag and stared in surprise. He looked at the two boys, "a Sea Drake egg?"

Kipril grinned, "from the way it is jumping about and making those hissing noises, it will not be long an egg."

Grim scratched his head, "what am I going to do with a hatchling Sea Drake? I appreciate the man's support of the school but this is a strange gift."

Kipril smiled in anticipation and said, "I do not think it will be your concern for very long." Grim frowned at the enigmatic boy but then turned his attention back to the egg, which suddenly burst open, revealing a tiny Sundrake.

The man shook his head in mystification, "have you not had enough trouble with creatures such as this?"

Kipril grinned, "oh, this one won't be my problem. As you can see, it is quite taken with our former prince." Verdin had eyes only for the hatchling, little noticing what went on betwixt his companions.

Grim smiled in exasperation, "very well then, be gone with my prize pupil and my legendary new drake." They exchanged a smile, Kipril laid a hand on Verdin's shoulder, and abruptly Grim found himself alone.

They appeared just as suddenly back at the infamous crumbling castle, Verdin glanced about himself curiously, having seen little of the place on his previous visit. Kipril ducked into the courtyard to see how the new Mistress was settling in. Katar nodded a greeting to the boy but did not put down the book he was reading. Mina emerged from the kitchen door and smiled welcomingly at the boy, not exactly sure who or what he was. She was still a bit taken aback at what had come not only of her son, but also of herself, but she was eager to be of use to all and sundry. Kipril bowed deeply to the lady and asked how she was adjusting.

She smiled at the boy, knowing him now to be one of her son's comrades, she said, "it still seems like a dream, but I think I will soon be quite at home and familiar with the gist of my duties."

Kipril nodded approvingly, "and your son?"

She laughed, "I hardly know what to think! He came to tell me himself, you know. It seemed rather ridiculous, him saying as he'd been murdered by that poor boy who took supper with us! But there he was, standing on my doorstep and telling me the whole tale and then he asks if I would like to come mind a castle rather than my little cottage! And here I am, quite pleased to see the lad now and then and to be of use to all who come hither. Now what can I do for you?"

Kipril shook his head, "I am only waiting for someone, then we will be off again." He glanced over his shoulder and smiled as Verdin joined them, still looking about curiously. The lady greeted the newcomer and he gave her a grand bow, befitting a lady of noble birth, which flattered her no end.

At that moment Ian dashed breathlessly into the courtyard, grinning sheepishly he asked, "am I late?" Kipril shook his head in amusement and then bid the lady adieu, before gathering up his friends and leaving the keep.

Kaza and Kyra perched eagerly on the edge of the cliff while Verdin's hatchling crooned happily on his shoulder. Kaza cocked his head, "isn't the hatchling a bit young for this adventure?"

Kipril shrugged, "what is Time to an immortal creature? I think he may very well be grown by the time we reach our destination. There is a good reason for each of us to be on this strange adventure, else the Master would be sending someone else."

Ian queried, "what is our adventure to be? I only know it is quite desperate."

Kipril nodded, "we are going to visit the land of our forebears." There was an audible gasp from all of them, even the drakes. Kipril continued, "our foes will not be content to linger in Vesper when the whole world lies open to them. We will defend mortal men from such evil wherever and whenever it is found."

Kyra asked, "why were we chosen to go?"

Kipril shrugged, "perhaps we represent the entire spectrum of human society? A slave, a servant, and a prince were we!"

Verdin laughed, "to think I look to a slave for orders!"

Kipril smiled, "we are all of us free yet also servants of our Master."

Ian nodded, "truly spoken. Now shall we see what the outer world holds or shall we wait here talking until the drake is fully grown?"

Kaza snorted his amusement and said, "we are merely waiting on you, now climb aboard and let us be away." They immediately heeded his sensible words, Verdin joined Kipril aback Kaza as the hatchling leapt into the air and vanished. The elder drakes followed suit.

The world resolved itself into a starless night on a rocky shore with the Sea frothed into a frenzy by a tempest that furiously lashed out at water and land alike. The three Knights gazed about in the midst of the gale, even their strange eyes seeing little of this legendary land in the thick of night and storm. "A lovely land this," laughed Ian, "no wonder our ancestors abandoned it."

"Forget the scenery," gasped Verdin, "what is that?"

They turned to look at the creature that had astonished their companion and none could put a name to the beast. The shaggy quadruped trotted up and whinnied a laugh, "do you not know a Sundrake when you see one?"

Kipril grinned, "I have never seen such a wooly beast before, certainly never a drake."

The creature replied, "the locals call it a 'horse,' and it serves as a common beast for burden, draught, and riding. You will find all of their domestic creatures of a mammalian or even avian descent, there are no reptiles among them!" The disguised drake eyed his conspecifics, who suddenly took on a visage similar to their companion.

Ian smiled, "it seems you have learned much in a short time, are you fully grown as well?"

Verdin shook his head, "the silly creature has been here a year and is fully mature while to us it was only a moment ago we parted."

The horse snorted in amusement, "far be it from me to aspire to silliness when so dire a quest lies before us. You will find that I have spent my juvenile months making observations that will be vital to our mission."

Kipril laughed, "silly indeed! Lead on dear friend, as we are strangers in this land."

Each of the Knights was truly horsed and Eril led them away from the storm wracked coast, up a gradual slope to the grassy hills that bordered this strip of coast. The hills were nearly as rocky as the shoreline with stones of all sizes jutting out of the sward and lurking about underfoot, ready to trip an unwary traveler. Not far from the coast they encountered their first continental village, but unlike the open and welcoming towns of Vesper, the settlements in this harsh and tumultuous land tended to be surrounded by sturdy walls and patrolled by short-tempered guardsmen.

No one seemed to be about in the middle of a stormy night, and even the watchers on the walls could hear and see nothing through the thick of the storm, but the sharp ears of the drakes and their riders easily picked up the sounds of muffled weeping. About a bowshot from the walls, lay a great stone with a dark, trembling figure hunched miserably in a heap at one end. She heard the horses snorting in the blackness and ceased her weeping, silenced by terror.

Verdin dismounted, climbed upon the near side of the boulder, and said quietly to the lady after offering her a grand bow, "why do you weep alone in the rain, my lady?"

She squeaked in terror, "have you not come to devour me or worse?"

Verdin scratched his head, "nay lady, we have come to your rescue."

"Rescue?" scoffed she, "Who would rescue me when my own folk sent me forth to die?"

"Who indeed!" snarled a grim voice from the depths of the night, "She is mine, as are all of you foolish enough to interfere."

Without a word, Verdin swept the lady up and set her hastily in his own saddle and then drew his sword. This time it would be a fair fight. The girl shrieked in terror and excitement even as the horses galloped into the night and the sounds of clashing swords faded with distance.

"Fool!" snarled the foiled Spy that was Michel, "I will take you for my prey instead, unless you bend knee to my master and gain power unthinkable."

Verdin agreed, "it is quite unthinkable that I would ever do anything so ridiculous. What can your dread master offer that the True Master cannot give ten thousand times more abundantly, save perhaps death and despair?"

The Spy hissed, "who in this cursed land knows that name as anything but the most distant of legends?"

Verdin smiled grimly, "know you not the face of your Prince? You knew it once before, at least well enough to murder me like the coward you are! Now we shall see who possesses the greater skill, fiend!"

Michel shrieked something incomprehensible and struck with greater fury as he realized whom it was he fought and the grave danger in which he suddenly found himself. With a great squawk, Michel vanished, his sword clattered to the ground, and a great raven winged quickly off into the night. Verdin sheathed his blade, took up the discarded weapon, and followed his vanished companions, easily overtaking them with his unnatural speed. The horses stopped with Verdin's appearance and drew close together that the companions might converse. Asked Kipril, "what of the fiend?"

Verdin shook his head, "he became a raven and winged off as fast as he could fly."

Kipril shook his head grimly, "off to warn his companions no doubt. Lady, what can you tell us of this creature, his confederates, and why your people would leave you so exposed this night?"

The terror had been replaced by curiosity as Joana replied, "we have always feared the gods, yet they seemed willing to ignore us as long as we carried out the proper rituals. So it was for generations when a month gone, everything changed, for the Priests of the gods arrived and demanded greater and worse tribute, including human sacrifice. I was to be the first such victim."

Ian queried, "these Priests, what do they say?"

She shrugged, "many things, mostly how displeased the gods are with us and what horrors will come upon us if we do not obey. My folk are quite terrified. Do you not fear the gods? Why defy them to attempt my rescue?"

Verdin smiled eagerly, "we serve the only real God, the Master. All other powers are mere imposters, created beings intent on their own power rather than seeking the glory of their Maker. Rebellious servants that must one day face their Master's judgment but who, for a time, are allowed to pretend to be masters of the earth and sea and sky. Such vile powers are certainly greater than any man, but not greater than Him whom we serve. It was our Master who sent us to your rescue."

"The Master?" said she with a smile, "Come, do not tease me with mere fancies. Tell me truly, which of the gods do you claim to serve?"

Kipril shook his head, "nay lady, we do not tease you. Truly there is no God but the Master, our Creator, Savior, and Sustainer. All others are mere imposters, powerful true, but still created beings and not true gods. Know you nothing of the Master in these lands?"

The girl shook her head, "only as a figure out of ancient myth, perhaps the father of the gods, but no longer does he exist or at least he is unable or unwilling to influence our world."

Verdin shook his head, "an interesting story, but not the Truth. It was not these lesser gods that saved you this night, but they that demanded your blood."

She nodded thoughtfully, "you have a point. You must tell me more of my Savior yet perhaps it would be wise to seek a place of shelter?"

The Knights exchanged an embarrassed look, having forgotten the poor mortal girl's fright and certain discomfort on such a wretched night. The rain and cold did not bother them in the least, but she was shivering and soaked through, not to mention there were likely minions of evil about and they were quite vulnerable in the open. Verdin asked if he might mount behind the lady and she nodded demurely.

Once he was mounted, the party made for a place of safety that she knew well. Half an hour of riding brought them to an expanse of rock that jutted out into the Sea. The girl slid from the saddle, and even in the dark of night and storm, she easily picked her way along a barely discernable path until she came to the base of a rocky slope. She carefully climbed the nearly vertical hillside and then vanished suddenly into a small opening that led into the heart of the hill. The Knights followed, as did the drakes, now in the guise of winged, domestic lizards.

They soon had a fire going and they offered the girl food and water that had miraculously appeared amongst their baggage. As she refreshed herself, the boys glanced about their new surroundings and gasped in wonder. Here, preserved upon the wall in murals and intricate tile mosaics, was the history of mankind and the Master's part in it. The tale was told from the very beginning of Time, to the rebellion and fall of man, to the Master's appearing among men as a mortal Himself, and finished with His brutal death and wondrous return to Life.

The girl, finally revived, noticed their intense interest in the cave walls and asked, "I came here often as a little girl. It was my own secret place I discovered one day when I was out walking. I love the pictures but understand little of the story they tell. Who do you suppose made them and what was this place?"

Kipril said in wonder, "these walls tell the full tale of the Master and His dealings with men and theirs with Him. I suppose His ancient servants adorned the walls that the tale not be forgotten. Perhaps it was a place of meeting, learning, or refuge?" She nodded thoughtfully and gnawed absentmindedly on her bread.

Then she frowned as a new thought occurred to her, "who exactly are you and where are you from that you cherish this Master and little fear the wrath of the common gods?"

Verdin smiled, "our forebears left these lands a thousand years ago. They washed ashore on a group of islands far from here and established a civilization. Now a great evil has arisen in our homeland and has come back to the land of our ancestors. We were sent to stifle this evil and see that your folk no longer dwell in spiritual darkness."

She gasped, "ancient legend tells of such an expedition but it also assumes that all involved perished at Sea! Yet you say some survived and even preserved a memory of this Master of yours?"

Ian nodded, "exactly, but what has come of such knowledge in your own country?"

She shook her head, "perhaps it perished in the chaos that ever seems to wrack our land. Ever is there a new petty warlord or bandit king proclaiming himself ruler over all. Never are sovereign realms long lived or Princes long on their stolen thrones. Banditry, lawlessness, injustice, and chaos choke these lands and have for nearly a thousand years. I suppose that is why your ancestors would rather attempt the Sea than stay here amidst the chaos. Our mythos is as chaotic and unsettled as the world about us. I would know more of this Master of yours, especially if He promises peace, justice, and love." They told her the full tale, using the beautifully adorned walls to aid their story. She was spellbound and spoke not a word, save to occasionally gasp in wonder.

When they had finished, the girl nearly begged, "I would seek this Master if He would have me."

Kipril smiled, "you need only ask." A look of pure delight entered the girl's eyes as she did just that.

"Now," said she in a very business like tone, "we had best get busy and tell the rest of the world."

Ian asked, "how do you propose we do that?"

She smiled at him in amusement, "they will never listen to an outsider, but I think once they hear my tale, they will be eager to know more." She frowned, "you had best tell me everything I need to know, for they will have questions." The girl seemed to absorb everything they said like a dry sponge; her memory was amazing. Soon, she felt herself ready to face her folk, but first, they insisted she get some sleep. She roused about noon to see the sun shining through the small opening. She emerged from her haven and quickly made her way to the ground. Kipril followed but the others were already waiting, having scouted about while the girl slept.

Joana glanced about, "where are your charming lizard creatures? How is it that your ponies did not flee in such a night?"

Verdin smiled enigmatically, "they are rather remarkable creatures, doing what they must at need." She shook her head and climbed aback Eril while Verdin rode with Kipril, it would not do to have her come home aback a horse with a strange man. They set off at a good clip and soon reached the walled village, whose gates stood open in the sunshine, but they suddenly began to close at the advent of strangers. The girl cried out to one of the watchmen who turned pale, as if seeing a ghost.

She crossed her arms and frowned at the guard in frustration, "Kenneth, do you not recognize your own sister! Open the gates you fool."

The boy gave a nervous laugh in spite of his terror and proclaimed, "it is truly Joana, whoever heard of a ghost that scolds as only an older sister can? Open the gates!"

The others made to protest but the boy sensibly reminded them that the gates would be of little use if the girl were actually what they feared. He ran to the gate and greeted her warmly as she slid from the saddle, but he eyed the strangers cautiously. After their exuberant greeting, she introduced her rescuers to the gathered guardsmen and the small, curious crowd that gathered to see who these strangers might be.

"This is the strangest story I have ever heard," said the captain of the guard and also the mayor and Joana's father, "yet here you are alive, so there must be some truth in it. But will not the gods visit their wrath upon us for defying them?"

Kipril bowed deeply and said, "nay Sir, your gods are not gods at all but vile demons intent on usurping the place of the True Creator. While these minions of evil may try their hand at destroying you, the Master is not powerless in your defense."

The Mayor scoffed, "you three will defend us from such terrible foes?"

Kipril shuddered, "it is not our place to defy such powers Sir, but the Master's alone. Though we can and will protect you from their lesser servants who were once men, but now endure a living death in hopes of gaining power and life unending."

The Mayor shivered and turned to his daughter, "you must tell us more of these things." She smiled and the whole town eagerly listened to her words.

Said the Mayor once she had finished, "strange but wondrous tales indeed. Certainly a better choice than the words of the so-called Priesthood of the gods."

"Brave words, fool," came the hissing reply, "be sure they are not your last!" The three Knights had their swords out and stood between the Wraith and the townsfolk. "Fools!" snarled the dark mage, "As long as these folk desire me in their midst, you can do nothing to expel me."

The Mayor stuttered, "then be gone fell thing. We have never desired your presence, least of all now." The thing raised a hand to cast some foul incantation upon the trembling infidel, but Kipril leapt between them, vanishing in a gout of black flame. The villagers gasped but the remaining Knights soon overcame the gloating mage, leaving the village for a time, free of such creatures.

Joana wept, "why would he die for my father?"

Verdin said quietly, "because such was the Master's sacrifice for each of us." Then came the eager questions.

Hern and the two former mercenaries had spent weeks on the forgotten island and had by now become quite familiar with the place. They were bored, what was worse was that the new Mistress of the Island was no Lyra. At least the girl was an interesting companion, if completely fooled into believing all the malarkey that apparently passed for sense in this place. Mina was more a matron than a companion and tended to mother her charges rather than befriend them. They had seen all the strange things that happened in that place and were quite ready to be back in the real world where such things did not occur. But how to get away? They knew they only had to ask, but who? As if in answer, Bayard suddenly appeared with his Sundrake. Hern rushed to him and demanded that he bear them away from this ghastly place immediately.

The boy smiled wryly, but knew this was the reason he had returned. He asked, "whither would you go, my fine sirs?"

Hern shivered, "anywhere such uncanny things are unlikely to occur." The two warriors nodded with wide eyes.

"Very well," said Bayard as he motioned for the trio to mount.

Hern gaped, "can this beast carry four men?"

The creature snorted and startled the poor men all the more, "I can carry one or a thousand such. Mortal weight means nothing to me. Hop aboard lads." They quivered in terror but their eagerness to be away overcame their fear. They suddenly vanished and reappeared near the capital city.

Bayard said to his brother, "I hope you one day find whatever it is you are looking for, but remember, when all else fails you, ever is the Master waiting." All three scoffed at him and hurried away from the unnatural creatures. The pair exchanged a pained look and vanished anew.

Hern had never been to the capital city before so he let his warrior friends lead on. Much had changed since their last visit, and not for the better. It seemed the whole world was suddenly taken with the Keeper's nonsense, even the King! Sighed Hern, "where can we get away from these fools and their inanity?"

Said one of the mercenaries, "what about the enemies of this so-called Master?"

The other shivered and reminded his companion what had come of Throg. Hern quivered, "I would rather stay away from both parties if we can arrange it."

"Sorry lads," came an ancient voice, "but you must choose a side."

The trio glanced in annoyance at a man in a Keeper's robes but also wearing a sash proclaiming him a highly ranked advisor of State. Wonderful, just wonderful, not only a Keeper but the very man who advised the King! "We do not wish to choose a side," snarled Hern, "be gone!"

Ubert only smiled in amusement, "this is a war lad, one that spans all of Time and Space and beyond. There is no neutral position. You are either for the Master or against Him."

Hern scoffed, "do you know what strange things happen on that haunted island of yours? If that is the Master's handiwork, we want nothing to do with it."

Ubert said grimly, "the Enemy's is far worse, and I think your companions have seen enough of that. Are you willing to spend all Eternity in such a state?" The mercenaries looked ready to faint in terror. The Keeper smiled gently and directed them to the School where they might learn in relative normalcy. They scampered off as fast as their feet could carry them but Hern stood rooted to the earth. "Well old man," scoffed he, "I will have nothing to do with your Master, so it is that I choose the Enemy. Look what you have driven me to!"

Ubert shook his head, "it was none of my doing but your own choice."

Hern shrugged and walked proudly out of the city, wondering how to find what he now desired above all things and determined to have his revenge not only on the old man but also on his brother, not that they had done anything to deserve revenge, but he liked how such vengeful thoughts made him feel. It was not long after that he found that which he sought, evil has an uncanny way of seeking out its own or attracting worse than itself. He did not enjoy what followed but the power that seethed through his being was more than worth it. He wondered idly what his brother would say and with a vile smile, whispered the fell words and vanished in hopes of finding Bayard, but alas, he was now a slave and could only do his master's will, which did not at the moment involve any of his wished for revenge.

Kipril appeared suddenly outside the gates of the crumbling castle, for a moment thinking himself aflame. Corbin walked up to him and greeted him cordially, "how are things on the continent?" Kipril smiled eagerly and recounted their adventures. Corbin nodded and replied, "the Enemy will certainly not like this sudden interest in the Master."

"No," said Kipril grimly, "and that is why we are going on a recruiting mission. It is easy enough for us to protect our little archipelago, but they have a whole continent to defend."

Corbin whistled, "where are we going to find sundrakes enough to mount such an army? I doubt there are Sea Drakes enough in all Vesper to mount all that would be required!"

"True," said Kipril thoughtfully, "but who said we needed drakes?"

Corbin smiled in understanding, "there is an alternative? Excellent!" He smiled hopefully and said, "I am still afoot myself."

Kipril grinned, "even better. You shall be our first ambassador, come!"

Kaza was eagerly waiting for them, vanishing the moment they were mounted; he was quite eager himself to see the answer to this puzzle. They reappeared above a huge island, almost a continent in size, composed exclusively of very mountainous terrain. A carpet of verdant growth clothed the mountains while crystal blue rivers cascaded from the peaks to the valleys in innumerable waterfalls.

Corbin said eagerly, "it is beautiful but one would have to have wings in order to live here!"

Kipril smiled, "that is exactly why we are come."

Kaza set down in a wide meadow on a shoulder of one of the nearest peaks, his companions dismounted, and they all drank in the splendor about them. It was not long before they were joined by what Kipril now recognized as a horse, but such a horse! The wonderful creatures bore wings like those of a dove and glowed with an inner fire, minding one of a first glimpse of the morning sun. Three of the wonderful creatures had landed in the meadow and galloped swiftly over to investigate whom these intruders might be. There had never been, in all the history of Time, any sentient creature on this great island paradise save the Pegassi, and unlike many of the races that dwelt on the earth, they had never broken faith with their Master. They stopped a short distance from the strangers and studied them intently, conversing quietly amongst themselves.

Finally their leader spoke, "greetings strangers, you are the first who have ever set foot upon our blessed shores. From whence do you come and what do you seek?"

Kipril stepped forward, bowing deeply, hoping it an acceptable form of greeting and respect, said he, "the Day has come. Our Master calls you to leave your homeland and go forth into the world as has long been foretold."

The Elder nodded gravely, "it has come at last. Long have we waited and feared the Day, and now it is come. What must be done?"

Kipril said solemnly, "why have you feared this Day when it is of your Master's doing?"

The Elder shook his head, "we little know what to expect, none have ever left our paradisiacal isle and none wish to unless we must."

Kipril nodded, "fear of the unknown is not uncommon in the outer world so I suppose it should be no surprise here, yet you can trust the One who is sending you forth as ever you have trusted Him here."

The Elder seemed to be warming to the idea and said less gravely, "what are we to do?"

Kipril looked to Kaza, who was far more experienced in this sort of thing than he. The Sundrake nodded to the Elder and said, "most of your people will yet dwell in peace but there are a number that will feel a Calling upon themselves, they will be drawn irresistibly into the outer world. These will leave the safety and comfort of your home and seek the adventure the Master has set them. They will be utterly changed and no longer content to dwell safely at home. To deny this Calling can only result in a curse and misery for the individuals refusing it."

The Elder said solemnly, "so those that are Called must Go or suffer the consequences of disobedience?"

"Yes," said Kipril, "they will be leaving your people one way or another, they must either go or be banished."

"This is a grave thing you ask," said the Elder in concern.

Kipril shook his head, "it is not I but the Master. The world's need is dire and He is asking you to do your part lest Evil triumph over a great portion of civilization."

The Elder bowed his head in submission, "we cannot sit safely at home while others suffer! Let it be unto us as you have said and let those who refuse suffer the consequences. How is this to be accomplished?"

Kipril replied, "those who are Called will know, let them come to this place and all will be accomplished."

"So be it," said the Elder with a heavy sigh, "strange are the days when the Pegassi stray far from their ancient home!"

"Nay father," said one of the Elder's as till now silent companions, "perhaps for your generation it is a thing undreamt, but for mine it is a hope fulfilled! There are many of us who have yearned for this Day, who have longed for something more than to live out our days in absolute peace."

The Elder was quite surprised by both the unseemly outburst and these apparently hidden longings in a whole generation of the Pegassi, said he reluctantly, "it seems the way has already been prepared and that perhaps the older generations shall have a harder time dealing with the Day than those who shall actually leave home." He turned saddened eyes upon his son, having hoped that by submitting to the Day, he and his might perhaps be spared from it, said he, "this then you must do?"

"Must?" came the astonished answer, "Must and wish with all my heart! At last I may accomplish something in our Master's name! It was for this Day that our people were made. Weep not father, but rather rejoice that salvation has come to a people we do not even know."

The Elder snorted to hide his tears, "so shall it be. May the Master lend speed to your wings!" He eyed the three strangers solemnly, dipped his head in farewell, and with one stroke of his great wings, he and his remaining companion were aloft and soon hidden from sight.

The remaining Pegassi approached the strangers and said, "I am called Erian. Who and what are you?" There were soon introductions all around and then some explanation of things to come. "Let me then be the first," said the Pegassi exuberantly.

Corbin drew a flask of water from a hidden pocket and said to the eager creature, "you know then what this will mean for you and your future relationship to your people?"

The Pegassi snorted, "I will not be able to settle down and have foals or stand on the Council. I understand that I will be sundered from the life common to my race since the Beginning."

He eyed his three companions curiously, "have not you three agreed to similar restrictions?" The three exchanged a look, never having thought of it that way, but then they smiled and agreed, that so indeed they had. Laughed the Pegassi, "then I see no reason why you should worry so about me doing likewise."

Corbin smiled deeply, "then my friend, taste of the Water and enter this service with a joyous heart."

Erian did gladly as he was bidden, feeling quite transformed in his being yet showing no outward sign of change, said he in wonder, "now this is joy indeed." He pranced and bucked in joy like a colt on fresh spring pasture. He turned then to Corbin and asked in eagerness, "have we not some pressing matter to be about?"

Corbin grinned, leapt aback the wondrous beast, and they vanished together with joy in the morning. Kipril exchanged a joyous smile with Kaza before vanishing likewise, as they too felt drawn towards their next adventure.

Kipril found himself again walking the corridors of the Keeper's school in Versa, wondering anew at the eager and teeming mass of students that filled its many halls, it seemed every citizen of Vesper must be in attendance at that very moment. Kipril's heart rejoiced at such zeal for his Master's words yet part of him also grieved for what must come next, for it would briefly try a heart that was very dear to him, yet it was the answer to the man's most desperate prayers. Grim was not a young man and the servants of evil had given him no peace, day or night, as he struggled to establish and maintain the school. He could not eat without worrying about poison, he could not step outside the building without fearing that some hired thug would stick a knife in his back, and many were the strange and evil creatures that had infiltrated the school itself, seeking his life; they had always been deterred in their evil but it did terrible things to a man's mind and heart to be always living under the shadow of death. He could not admit it, even to himself, but he was dreadfully lonely as well.

Ubert stopped in on occasion, but since Corbin had gone, there seemed to be no one who understood what he had gone through, what he struggled with each day. He appreciated when Kipril and his former colleagues also appeared for a brief visit, but they were something beyond his comprehension and could no longer be considered a true, mortal friend. He did not know how much longer he could keep himself together, let alone the school. He cried himself to sleep every night, praying fervently for some sign or strength or change. One small part of him almost wished one of the would-be assassins might actually succeed. He knew he was doing great things for his Master's Kingdom, but this was small solace in the darkest hours of the night and he feared, more than a mortal heart could bear.

Kipril rapped at the door of Grim's office, but no answer came. Glancing about to make sure no one was watching, he stepped through the door and found Grim at his desk, head in his hands, barely holding back the tears. Kipril cleared his throat to announce his entrance and said quietly, "you do not look well, my friend."

Grim tried to put himself back together and said gruffly, "just a moment of weakness lad, I am fine, really."

Kipril shook his head in concern, "you cannot go on like this."

Grim stared at the boy with haunted eyes, "this I know all too well, but what choice do I have?"

Kipril took an involuntary step back and focused his gaze on something behind his friend, saying as calmly as he could, "fear not, all will be well."

Grim frowned and turned to look at what had caught the boy's attention, jumping out of his chair in alarm to find a Dreadlord behind him. Said he in terror to Kipril, "are you just going to stand there?"

Kipril said quietly, "I am forbidden from acting against this creature."

Grim's heart sank, "forbidden? By whom?" He shivered, knowing full well Who it was that directed Kipril and his comrades, had he been utterly forsaken?

The Dreadlord laughed harshly, "your precious Lord has abandoned you fool, and after all you have sacrificed on his behalf! But my master will remember you, if you will only bend knee to him."

Grim was in a veritable panic and turned plaintive eyes to Kipril, who said quietly, "you are neither forgotten nor forsaken, else I would not stand here as witness."

Grim tried desperately to regain control of his racing mind and heart, said he grimly to the monster, "I know Whose I am and there is no changing that, come what may."

"Very well," said the Dreadlord, as if it little mattered to him, "you have chosen your own fate and it will be far from pleasant. I will bear you to a place where there will be only darkness and pain until your pathetic mortal heart can stand it no longer and gives out in terror and despair. We shall see then how strong is your faith."

"No," said Kipril grimly, sword in hand and glowing slightly with some inner light, Grim took an involuntary step back from this dread warrior, little recognizing the boy of his former acquaintance. Continued the Knight, "finish it here or be gone."

The Dreadlord must have felt something dire in his simple words, for even he hesitated a moment before snarling, "so be it!"

Grim stared at Kipril in astonishment, could he not prevent the inevitable, even now? The last thing Grim saw was Kipril's stony face softening with pity and a small shake of his head, as if he read the man's question in his eyes. The next moment the creature had struck off the man's head with a horrible laugh, triumphant at last where so many had failed before. He took up Grim's head, made a hideous face at his stymied foe, and marched out into the main corridor of the school to show all what came of serving such a Master.

The moment the creature was gone, Kipril pulled a flask from his pocket and poured its contents on his old teacher. The man was immediately restored to himself, glancing about in confusion, thinking perhaps it had all been a dream. He regained his feet and stared at the boy in perplexity, still not quite sure what was real. He had faced his Master, that was more real than ever anything else could be, but now he felt himself in some sort of a delirium or perhaps a nightmare. All he could say was, "you stood aside."

The boy nodded, "I was forbidden from interceding unless the monster wished to carry things too far."

Grim shook his head, "are not murder and betrayal too far? What if that monster had succeeded? What would come of the school, of the students?"

Kipril finally understood the man's confusion and said, "Grim, what do you think just happened?"

The man frowned at the boy, not liking this sudden change of subject, especially to something that perplexed him utterly, said he, "I am not sure. The monster was there, you looked a ferocious warrior who stood aside and did nothing, then I blacked out and was in our Master's presence, and then I awoke to find the monster gone and you still here, as common a lad as ever I saw."

Kipril asked, "and what will come of your school?"

Grim frowned in consternation, "why should things be different than they have been before? I will still be here to oversee everything, at least if that monster does not come back. What came of him, anyway?"

Kipril could not contain his smile any longer at the incongruity of the situation, as he replied, "that creature is promenading down the corridor with your head as a trophy."

Suddenly the situation was quite clear to Grim, who finally barked a laugh at his own blindness, "so I have joined ranks with the rest of you at last." He smiled eagerly and drew forth his sword, "I assume there are no more restrictions keeping us from destroying the fiend?"

Kipril drew his own blade, "not in the least. Welcome home my friend, let us put your new skills to the test."

Grim smiled deeply for the first time in a very long time, as he said, "that we will lad, that we certainly will!"

They dashed down the hall in pursuit of the Dreadlord. They found him in the main hall of the palace, snarling threats and empty promises at the gathered students, who huddled together like terrified sheep in a pen. He no longer had his trophy, it had vanished the moment Grim had been restored to himself, but he had a sword and a temper, which were far more effective. There was some hopeful murmuring as some of the students caught sight of Grim, happy that in this at least the monster had lied and hopefully so too was he wrong about everything else. The Dreadlord looked up and his jaw dropped, he turned from the pair of students he was threatening and prepared to face this new menace. Within moments, Grim's sword had struck true and the Dreadlord had vanished, leaving only a horde of terrified and relieved students in its wake.

Kipril was on his knees beside an apparently injured student that the Dreadlord, once known as Throg, had singled out, having discovered one of his former cronies. The other former mercenary knelt on the wounded man's other side, saying nothing but staring daggers at Kipril and Grim.

Bayard suddenly appeared and said, "I will see to him." He turned to the uninjured man and asked, "do you wish to accompany your friend?" The man nodded stonily as a winged lizard, colored like the sunset, landed on Bayard's shoulder; the Knight placed a hand on each of the mercenaries and they vanished back to the crumbling castle and the healing therein. Meanwhile, Grim stood in the center of his terrified students, trying to regain order.

One student cried out, "that creature said you were dead!"

"He carried your head!" came another.

Grim finally gained their attention and silence, as he said, "he was a servant of evil, their main weapons are deceit, temptation, and threats. If he cannot tempt you into doing as he wishes, he will try to threaten or deceive you into acting thus, and if still you resist, he may very well carry out his threats, but take heart, for in the end, the Master is stronger and wiser than he and has already triumphed on our behalf. Whatever has happened, I am still here and very much alive, as you can see. Do not trust his words or promises, for it only lends our Enemy power and will lead to your own downfall. Your injured comrade will make a full recovery so we need fear that menace and his threats no more, he has utterly failed to accomplish anything in his foul master's name. Now, please return to your classes and your teachers will be happy to answer any further questions you might have."

The students reluctantly did as they were bidden, wishing rather to gossip and theorize about the events rather than deal with them in a reasonable fashion. In the end, it was a mere hiccup when it could have been the end of everything that Grim and his fellows had tried so hard to build. He turned back towards his office and motioned for Kipril to accompany him. Only as he shut the door behind them did he notice that there was blood everywhere.

Sighed he, "what a mess! I hope none of my books or scrolls have been damaged."

Kipril laughed, "you are more Scholar than Knight, Grim."

Grim looked up from the books he was examining and smiled, "I suppose you are right. But so too is my duty. I shall remain with the school as long as necessary, now happily immune to all of the problems that have so afflicted me of late." He said quietly to Kipril, "I am sorry for doubting you and our Master just before the end, I should have had more faith."

Kipril clapped him on the back, "I felt dreadful about it myself dear friend, knowing how you would feel, but you remained faithful even in the face of doubt and that is what ultimately matters. Your prayers were answered, if not exactly how you had imagined."

Grim smiled ruefully, "part of me actually wished for death, though that part quickly repented when the Dreadlord showed up. Strange to think death can actually be a blessing."

Kipril said quietly, "only the death of a man faithful to the Master, all others are terrible beyond words."

They were silent for a moment as they pondered this horrible thought. Grim brightened, "but I have the chance to see that nobody dies without Him, unless they really want to."

Kipril smiled, "that is our primary duty in life as well as beyond it." He glanced about with a smile, "you have quite a mess to clean up, how are you going to explain this to the servants?"

Grim tossed him a mop with a smile, "we won't have to, at least if you give me a hand."

Kipril groaned, "the mop is mightier than the sword." Grim shook his head but they both set to with a will and soon set the office in order.

Bayard returned to the dilapidated castle with his two companions and soon enough, the kindly matron had fully healed the man. Said the uninjured mercenary, "I had no wish to come back here, but I could not allow Grott to be spirited away by you folk, at least not alone."

Bayard nodded, "quite understandable. Do you know what came of my brother?"

They exchanged a grim look, "he went looking for your enemies."

Bayard said sadly, "each man must make his own choice. What of you gentlemen?"

They exchanged an unreadable look, as the first man continued, "we would rather not make a decision, live and let live as it were. Too many weird things happen around you people, though we are grateful for all you have done for us. I think we may try and find somewhere to do a little soldiering where your Master is not so popular. No offense."

Bayard smiled sadly, "none taken, but remember that in not choosing Him you choose against Him."

The mercenaries nodded, "we will take our chances. Any chance you can get us away from these islands? There is no place for a man who only wants to earn his bread without hearing ever and always about the Master."

Bayard frowned, "I suppose I can drop you off in the land of our ancestors. Rumor holds it to be a rather uncivilized and heathen culture."

They exchanged an eager look and nodded enthusiastically, "perfect!"

Bayard grinned, "but there is a small revival movement going on."

They shook their heads, "at least there is room enough for unbelievers there, these islands are mighty confined and filled with people like you."

Bayard nodded, "so be it. I shall bear you wherever you would go."

So it was he left them in the land their ancestors wished desperately to flee and they easily found sword work, as much as they desired until at last they were cut down in one of the countless skirmishes between minor warlords so common in those days. They thought at last to die happily in battle, as any warrior might, but found at the last that perhaps they should have given more consideration to the words of those rather strange folk whose influence they tried so hard to escape.

Bayard felt himself obliged for a little while to stay upon the continent, at least until there were Knights enough recruited from those heathen lands to defend their homeland from the current influx of evil. They landed near a burning village, the smoke nearly blocked out the sun and cast a gloomy pall over the terrible things happening below. The drake set down next to some sort of a large hoofed mammal with great feathered wings, Corbin sat astride the creature and greeted his comrade as the drake folded its wings and settled in to watch. Corbin quickly made introductions all around, briefly explaining the Pegassi and the part they would play in the war that would soon cover the entire continent.

Continued Corbin, "this village was the first to hear of the Master and such was the overwhelming excitement that many an eager pilgrim has set out to tell others of this wondrous thing they have heard. The local warlords, advised no doubt by our enemies, are far from happy about this new hope spreading like wildfire amongst the peasantry and have sworn to stomp it out. They have burned the village, many were killed in the battle, and the survivors they are giving a choice: renounce the Master or be put to the sword."

Bayard watched as the grim scene played out, a few fell to their knees weeping for mercy but most stared stonily at their captors and would not repent. The few survivors were rounded up and would be sold as slaves, the faithful were left to the scavengers. They took what booty they could, mounted their horses, and rode contentedly away. Bayard shivered, wondering how one man could slaughter his fellows like so many sheep and ride away without any misgivings, guilt, or remorse.

Corbin said quietly, "it is a dark land, with men caring little for one another and their only hope is to see another sunrise."

Erian interjected, "not anymore! Come lads, let us glean some hope out of this field of despair!"

The Knights dismounted and combed the burning village and the bloodied field, seeking their as yet unquickened comrades. They found a dozen young men amongst the carnage and lay them in a line, away from the wreckage. Each of the Knights knelt beside the nearest lad, pouring a bit of that wondrous Water on the dead boy. The boys wakened again to life, sat up, and blinked at their new comrades in sheer wonder.

Each pair was soon aback either the drake or the Pegassi and vanished back to Vesper and its crumbling castle to fetch more of the precious Water and then on to Erian's home country to get the neophyte Knights mounted. Upon their return, there were now four of them to repeat the process until a dozen young men stood ready to fight back the darkness in their own peculiar way, but first they saw to giving their dead kin a proper burial before dispersing on their various missions, leaving the elder Knights alone amidst the smoking ruins.

Corbin smiled eagerly, "so begins our conquest of the continent." He sobered, "chaos and ruin will reign for some time and our new comrades are only the first of many, but the day is coming, though the darkest part of the night is yet to come. Perhaps one day these lands will know the peace only our Master can bring. Thank you for your help, I must remain here to shepherd our new recruits. Farewell!" Bayard raised his hand in farewell, grateful to return to the more civilized and peaceful lands of his birth.

So it was that war raged over the continent and many were those who discovered things dearer than life, forsaking it to find the joy that lasts forever. But gradually, the common folk were outraged enough at the ceaseless carnage that they rose up against their overlords and replaced them with common men who had been bold and wise in the days of peril, thus bringing peace and justice at last to a land that seemed to have known nothing but war since time out of mind. At last men could believe as they would and live without fear of their neighbors, ushering in an era of undreamt prosperity, but hearts grew cold and selfish as they forgot the One who had blessed them so and soon fell again into alternating periods of war and uneasy peace, as is the wont of men throughout time until at last came that Day when the Master appeared to call all men to account, the living and the dead, and ushered in a Peace that would not end, for at last He dwelt among them.

All the Hopes of Men:

The rolling hills spread out before him like a blanket carelessly tossed upon the floor, colorful blocks of autumn oak and maple interspersed with harvest fields and meadows, golden in the sunset. It was a beautiful, peaceful place and for a moment he thought to regret interrupting such tranquility, but his mission suddenly flared anew in his heart and he knew he could cherish no such thought, for the folk in the valley below would long rue such a careless decision. His faithful mount seemed to know his mind and began his descent into the quiet paradise before them, with the full intention of interrupting the pastoral solitude that lay in the vale below.

The next morning found the whole Province abuzz with the news that a stranger had come in the night and was making a nuisance of himself upon the village green. There had not been such a stir since Heinrich's pigs had torn up the Mayor's pumpkin patch and Heinrich blamed the Mayor for his pigs' indigestion and subsequent poor thrift, never mind the wreck the beasts had made of the Mayor's prize pumpkins; even twenty years later there was still a chill between the families concerned whenever they met in public. The whole countryside was in uproar and the sun was barely up. In the first place, he was a stranger and no stranger had a right to enter this long forgotten valley without a very good reason. Secondly, he had no right to stand upon the Green as if he owned it; did it not belong solely to the inhabitants of the village? And lastly, what did the fool mean by his insane proclamations? Danger to the valley? It was utterly absurd!

These folk had not known war or danger for many hundreds of years though such were common enough in the outer world, this forgotten corner had been spared such horrors by its remote location and the inaccuracy of maps in those days, which declared the whole region an impassable, disease ridden swamp. Telling the inhabitants thereof that imminent danger was upon them unless they acted quickly was like trying to explain snow to someone living in the very south of the world where such a phenomenon had never occurred. Unsurprisingly, most took offense at his presumptions.

By midmorning, the entire population of the Province had turned out to see and hear this strange fellow, most had never seen a stranger before, though their grandparents might reminisce on occasion of such an occurrence back in the bygone days of their own childhood. Many were eager for the chance to have such a tale of their own to pass on in fifty years or so. The man stood his ground, though many had made it clear that he was not welcome; he would not, could not leave until his mission had been accomplished but it did not seem likely that any would cooperate with his scheme, even to save their own lives. He had never encountered such insular and stubborn folk!

He persisted however and continued to plead over their protests, "but you must listen! Hear you not that your own destruction is at hand? At least one of you must stand forth and make ready for what is to come. None can save you but one of your own, more would be better but at least one man must do this needful thing!"

They listened for a time, but as the day grew warm their patience and interest waned and gradually the crowd dispersed about their long neglected chores until only four boys remained with the man on the Green. The man looked hopefully at the trio, but it was clear by their sneers and private joking that they remained only to heckle; he then turned to the fourth boy who stood awkwardly off to one side, as if he knew not what to do with himself. The man sighed, knowing his words fell on deaf ears as far as the other lads were concerned, so leaving his oratory, he made his way towards the nervous seeming lad as the trio of mockers laughed all the more while the singleton looked ready to flee in terror.

"Stay your flight, lad," said the man gently, "you need neither fear me nor the jibes of your friends yonder. You look like a man with a question."

The boy brightened at this description of himself, for he was small for his age and thin besides; the doctor blamed his frailness on a weak heart, but that did not stop his peers from finding various ways to twit him about his size, but his physical appearance was the least of their reasons to hate and mock him. He answered the man nervously, "I would not presume to speak with such an esteemed personage as yourself Sir, but my mother bid me thus to ask you if you would stay with us if no one else would have you."

The man smiled warmly at this request, saying, "I would be most honored, especially as all your folk seem to think I carry the Pox or some such with their cold reception this morning."

The lad cautioned, "all we have you are welcome to share, but I must warn you it is not much."

The man laughed warmly, "lad, your hospitality alone shall make my stay most enjoyable even with the meanest of fare and roughest of shelter."

The boy returned the smile tenfold and together they made their way towards the ramshackle cottage on the edge of town. The boy's mother greeted them at the door though even such a slight effort seemed to pain her greatly; she suffered much with pain in her joints but never did she complain or much allow her son to see her discomfort though he guessed more of her suffering than she hoped he ever would. She welcomed their guest warmly into the humble shack and made him as comfortable as circumstances would allow. The evening meal was plain but nourishing and long did they stay up round the fire as the man told many a tale and asked after the woman's own sad story.

She smiled bravely and blinked back tears and told of a husband who had taken to banditry in the outlands, and who had undoubtedly been killed in such an act. She barely made mention of their meager existence and the antipathy of their neighbors in their plight, for in their opinion, being a bandit's widow was as bad as being a thief yourself. The neighborhood children went so far as to call the boy, 'Brin, Brin the robber's son.'

Continued she, "you speak of imminent disaster Sir? You say that it cannot be stopped save by some brave soul from amongst our own folk?"

The man nodded grimly, "aye Madam, and none of your folk seem to take me seriously but it was for this very purpose I was sent."

She shook her head gravely, "these folk know little of true evil and danger, for rarely has it touched their usually pleasant and boring lives. They think that living in such bounty and relative peace means they are forever entitled to such bliss and rightly deserving of it, therefore it is assured to continue. You sound a lunatic who only wishes to upset their rather dull lives for your own vicious ends."

The boy had listened with wide eyes and then boldly proclaimed, "I would go if I were not so weak and my mother could survive without me, but alas it cannot be so."

His mother turned to him with eyes burning with pride, "oh child, I could bear anything for such a heart as yours."

The stranger smiled warmly, "it is not a question of strength but of heart lad. If you can commit to such a quest with a bold and honest spirit, we can find a way to take care of your mother." The boy seemed to glow and his mother fought valiantly to restrain her grief in anticipation of their parting, for she knew somehow that this thing must be.

"I will go," said the boy excitedly, but then more cautiously he asked, "what am I to do and where am I to go?"

The man smiled, "a thoughtful man as well as a bold one, very good. You must leave your valley and go into the outer world, to learn there what you must to save your home. Once you start upon your road, your path will not be hidden from you." The man sobered and said quietly, "you must know this is a dangerous quest and likely the end of your part in all you once knew and loved, but only thereby may it be saved."

The boy nodded grimly, "I understand, it is only my mother's feelings that might yet restrain me, for it is not my heart alone I risk."

Unshed tears shone in her eyes as she said, "this is a great and needful thing you shall attempt, and it must be risked. My own pain is a small price to pay for the salvation of our folk."

The boy nodded firmly, "then I shall attempt this thing, whatever it is, no matter the risk or the end."

The man smiled deeply, "then your mother has reason to be proud, though I fear she shall buy it through much sorrow, but joy ever comes with the morning. We had best get some rest lad and I shall tell you more in the morning."

Morning came, though the boy and his mother had slept little, one for excitement and the other for sorrow. As the boy was busy about his morning chores, the man asked quietly of his mother, "you have a question you would ask, but not in front of your son?"

She nodded sadly, "he is all I have and I am willing to give him up if it is for so noble a cause, but I must know by whom or for what purpose you were sent ere I can let him go with a good will?"

The man nodded in understanding, "that is also something I must discuss with the boy before he sets off. I ride for the Master and the boy must also, or all shall be lost."

She smiled sadly then, "then it is truly a miracle that you have found us, for of all folk hereabouts we are the only ones with such faith. The general consensus is that the Creator has bestowed great blessings upon our folk because of our innate goodness, and thus are we content to bask in our own glory and only give lip service to the true Source of all we have and enjoy, while truly thinking Him a myth or at least a distant and indifferent God. If trouble were truly to arise, most would abandon what little faith they have and complain bitterly that there truly must be no such Being if such discomfort can come so undeservedly upon the very best of men. Thus, your quest would have been a vain one had you not come upon us, for my son and I know quite differently."

The man smiled deeply, "nay lady, it was not a miracle but Providence that led me to you. That and your own generous heart, which shows you are truly what you claim to be. May you never lack food in your cupboard or fuel for your fire for being willing to give up that which is most precious to you, even to your own ruin." She smiled at him then, as if appreciating this strange blessing but knowing it could be nothing more than hopeful words. She was quite astonished to be proven wrong in days to come, for long after her son had left her, she never wanted for anything in his absence though she was at a loss to say how these things came to be.

He left her then, parting with such warmth and concern that she was much saddened to see him go, but she knew he could not long linger for the sake of all her folk. He went out to the boy and after discussing things of a metaphysical nature, once satisfied, he bid the lad return to his mother to say his farewells and then it would be off to the village to procure what was needed for the long, strange journey that undoubtedly lay before him. There were many tears at this final parting but his eagerness drove him quickly from his mother's desperate arms and off towards the unknown. The man gave him instructions on what he might need and coin enough to procure it and what to do thereafter.

"Are you not coming with me?" gasped the stymied boy.

The man smiled sadly, "nay lad, I have duties elsewhere and this is a journey we each must make alone."

The boy nodded solemnly and dashed off towards town to see what he could find to aid his journey. The man followed at a distance, knowing his presence might turn the townsfolk against the boy and make his errand more difficult but also wishing to ward the boy from any unforeseen danger that might be lurking about and hoping to somehow prevent his adventure.

The boy dashed into the village and began making his rounds of the various shops and craftsmen, seeking out that which the man had instructed him to find. The tradesmen were quite astonished that the usually penniless boy now had money to spend. They were suspicious, but eager for the business, so reluctantly filled his various orders but only after being paid in advance. The boy loitered about one of the shop windows wondering what else he might possibly need when he caught sight of an enigma, for there was another stranger in the village; two in one lifetime, let alone in two days!

But this was not a bold man, but a rather thin, lithe boy in plain but well made clothes of a stylish cut and of expensive fabric. Besides his outlandish apparel, there was something strange in the way he moved and carried himself. He was bold and confident, carrying himself as if he owned the world but there was a grace and lightness about him that was foreign to most boys of any age. In fact, Brin had only ever seen such a mien in the aspect of certain young women. This new stranger felt Brin's eyes upon him and turned a pretty, curious face towards him. Brin blushed and dropped his gaze, knowing this strange boy to be in fact a girl, clad in boy's clothing.

Curiosity drove him to look up once more and he saw her smiling in vast amusement at his discomfiture. She crossed the distance that remained between them and said boldly, "this is rather a dull place I fear." He gaped at her in wonder, not knowing quite what to say to this paradox before him. She laughed gaily, "I suppose you never have strangers in this part of the world, most especially bold young women wearing trousers?" He nodded dully, as if slow of wit. She laughed the more, "well, I suppose that accounts for your strange reaction, but I must say, I am rather disappointed to find no adventure here at the ends of the earth."

Brin finally found his tongue, "why on earth would you think to find an adventure here?"

She smiled, "I am not sure, just a wild hope I suppose, but it is one of the remotest and least explored places in the world, at least to outlanders. Anyway, I needed some destination when I fled my father and I thought here was perhaps more interesting than most places, or at least it was a place he is unlikely to look for me." Brin gaped, he could not imagine anyone willingly running away from a father when he was nearly desperate for such a relationship. She saw his consternation and said quietly, "my father is a cruel and powerful man, and was ready to marry me off to a man even worse than himself merely for the power it would bring him. I had no choice but to run away." Brin nodded in understanding, thinking his own father must have had a similar character, and wondering what their relationship would have been like had the man ever returned.

She looked more closely at her new met companion, "you look as if you are preparing for a journey?"

He nodded, suddenly remembering his own strange errand, saying, "yes, I am off into the wide world this very day. You came here looking for adventure, but alas I must leave this place and go in search of it, for none else will."

She brightened, "then let me go with you. There is nothing of interest to keep me here and you certainly cannot go venturing into the wide world alone, knowing nothing about it, for I doubt you have ever left this small corner of the world?"

He smiled gratefully at her, but before he could answer, a sneering male voice said, "I am not sure who is more the fool! This girl thinking you could possibly survive very long in the outer world or you for attempting such a journey."

The trio of boys that had lingered on the Green the previous day had discovered both the new stranger and Brin's odd shopping spree. They were the sons of the richest and most influential men in the village and felt it their duty to keep those they saw as their inferiors in their place. They had listened to the strange man with contempt but had dared not confront such an intimidating, confident man directly, but the widow's son and a strange girl in boy's clothes were quite another matter. Besides, Tyne, the chief among them, thought the girl rather pretty despite her strange garb and was a tad jealous that she saw anything of interest or worth in so pathetic a person as Brin.

Clara drew herself up imperiously and said, "you have no business meddling in my affairs or his. Be gone, cad." All four of the boys looked at her in astonishment, never having heard a true lady speak in such a manner.

Tyne snorted and said, "what interest could you have in Brin, Brin the Robber's son?"

She lifted her chin, crossed her arms, and said coldly, "that is no concern of yours. I said be gone!"

Tyne turned his venom on Brin, snarling, "and what about you?"

Her insolence was contagious, as Brin replied, "the lady has asked you to go, and she is correct in saying it is none of your affair. Farewell!"

Aghast and agape, Tyne actually motioned for his cronies to follow him away from the unshakable pair. Where had Brin found such courage? The weakling had never dared stand up to such bullying before, even to defend his own parents. What had come over him? No matter, as it seemed he would soon be gone and would likely meet a worse fate than his ignoble sire, it was of little consequence. But where did he get the money and the courage for such an adventure? Perhaps they should listen more closely to this stranger and see if there was more to the story than they had at first assumed.

Kipril watched the exchange from the shadows and smiled to see the taunted pair handle the situation so well. He let the pair secure Brin's final purchases away in his pack and then gave them enough time to be well out of the village before resuming his unwelcome presence on the Green.

He was not surprised when Tyne and his minions were the first to approach him while the rest of the villagers seemed quite indifferent to his presence this morning. Said the boy, "how in the world can you send that wretch out into the wilds of civilization? He is pathetic and will not last a week in the wide world!"

Said the man calmly, "none else would go."

Tyne drew himself up to his full, not insignificant height, and said, "if that fool is fit to go, so also are we."

Kipril shook his head grimly, "nay lad, it is not a matter of strength but of heart. That boy has a great heart for his mother, his Master, and all his indifferent folk, but yours seeks only its own good. I am afraid such a journey is not for you."

Tyne seethed, "how can you keep me from going when yesterday you were very nearly begging the aid of anyone who might deign to hear you?"

The man shook his head, "I cannot prevent you from leaving your village, that is quite true, but I will not be responsible for whatever fate befalls you in the wide world. Go, if you feel you must but it shall be upon no quest of my making."

Tyne frowned, "what is all this blather about great hearts and the so-called Master?"

Kipril smiled sadly, "that is what the Master seeks lad, above all else is a humble and obedient heart. That is what is required of anyone who dares to go on this ill-fated adventure."

Tyne snorted, "come man, be sensible! We all know the Maker is a myth."

The man shook his head, "believe that to your own destruction. Listen to the tales I shall tell hereafter and then perhaps you will have much to think on." The boy shook his head in exasperation and stormed off the Green. Kipril gazed sadly after the retreating boys but soon began telling the old tales with such skill and fervor that the reluctant villagers could not help but listen and be moved.

For three days he held forth in this manner until the villagers tired of his prattling and drove him from the town square. At first they had been moved by his tales, but soon the stories began to nag at their hearts and minds, which irritated them greatly and forced them to act against the man who so stirred the deeps of their usually dull souls. They were well content with their material riches and needed no spiritual yearnings to disturb their comfort. Kipril retreated into the surrounding woods at this sudden outpouring of anger from his former audience. He sighed heavily, knowing the time had come for him to leave the valley and its inhabitants to themselves. He had accomplished that for which he was sent and now it was up to them to determine what they would do with the things he had said. A great pain erupted in his side and drew his thoughts violently back to the present situation. He collapsed to his knees and reached for the sword that was not there as he gazed up into the face of his attacker.

A figure cloaked all in black stood over him with his sword raised for the killing stroke, as he cackled in delight, "this is the price for interfering in my master's business! So shall it also be for the wretch you sent upon a vain and hopeless quest." Before the vile man's stroke fell and the darkness seized him, Kipril caught sight of Tyne and his two friends watching with horrified but curious eyes. The fell deed was done and the stranger lay unmoving at the dark man's feet; he suddenly turned to confront the boys behind him, saying, "and what of you lads? Would you end as this fool? Or would you seek something far greater?"

Tyne said curiously, "I am willing to listen." The dark man smiled within the depths of his hood, sending a chill down the spine of each of the three boys.

Brin and Clara had been walking along for several days, off upon their as yet unknown adventure, but the weather was lovely and the scenery breathtaking, which stirred something within their young hearts that felt adventuring must be the most wonderful thing in all the world. It did not hinder their cause that each also found a good companion in the other. For the first time in his life, Brin felt himself truly alive with the exhilaration of budding manhood, a vital purpose, and a natal romance. His dreams suddenly turned to horror when a sharp pain erupted in his side and forced him gasping to the ground. The sound of galloping hooves, Clara's terrified scream, and the mocking laughter of their assailants only served to increase Brin's certainty that this must be a nightmare, but he knew it was horrifyingly real.

He saw three men, darkly clad and masked, ride into the clearing and suddenly draw rein. One seized Clara, forced her aback his horse even as he mounted behind her, and kicked the beast to a gallop while one of his companions followed. Brin lay with an arrow in his side, gasping for air, unable even to speak as he looked at the third of the party, who stood over him with a wicked dagger in hand, which he drove deep into his victim's abdomen with a vicious laugh of sheer hatred. The pain and horror overwhelmed the boy and gratefully he fell into darkness. Tyne removed his mask and laughed again over the broken form of his victim, "I told you, you would not last a week upon this road." But there came no reply. Laughing all the more, Tyne mounted his horse and turned to follow his henchmen upon the next phase of the quest the dark man had set them.

The horse stood over the prone form of his master and nudged him urgently awake. Kipril raised a hand to his head and groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, saying to the horse, "even after a hundred years I am still not used to this."

The horse cocked his head and asked, "you shall Go?"

The man eyed his companion with a rueful smile, "nay dear friend, there is too much yet to be done for me to even ponder such an idea."

The horse snorted in amusement, "just making sure I need not seek out a new companion, for we have work to do."

The man nodded and climbed into the vacant saddle, as he said, "then we had best be off." The horse shook his head in wonder, unsure how this delay could even remotely be perceived as his fault, but it mattered little to such as they, for Time really laid no constraints upon them. The horse screamed his eagerness to the world, reared, and suddenly vanished.

They reappeared a moment later upon a tragic scene, at least from a mortal perspective, but that was not their point of view. Kipril slid from his saddle and knelt beside the fading boy, who lay gasping out his life upon the turf. Brin seemed to wake suddenly from the faint that had seized him with Tyne's dagger thrust; he groaned as the horror and pain came crashing back with his returning senses. Some hero he had turned out to be! What would come of Clara, and worse, his entire village? He glanced despairingly up in hopes of some sign or solace and found himself eye to eye with the stranger. He tried to drop his eyes in shame, but something held his gaze firm as the familiar voice said, not in derision but in a friendly, calm manner, "will you pass from the mortal world and see what comes After or would you continue in that which you began?"

Brin shivered in eagerness and fear; he was dying, what was this nonsense about finishing his quest? Kipril smiled knowingly, "it all seems quite strange and confusing at the moment but you know what you must and wish to do." The boy searched his own heart and reeling mind for a moment and nodded weakly, for he had no breath for words. Kipril smiled deeply and grasped the boy's hand, saying, "on your feet lad and let us be about the Master's business."

The boy allowed himself to be drawn to his feet and thought it strange that he found strength in his limbs, peace in his heart, and no pain wracking his shattered body. He studied himself briefly and shivered, for he certainly looked as one nigh unto death, with an arrow protruding from his chest and blood staining his muddied peasant garb. "Come lad," smiled Kipril, "we had best get you cleaned up."

Still not understanding but eager to see where this strange adventure would take him, he crawled aback the waiting horse behind the stranger, as suddenly the world spun around them. The world resolved itself into a mountainous country of forest, meadow, and rushing rivers. They dismounted and walked slowly up a hill towards what appeared to be a ruined castle, set high upon the brow of a great hill at whose feet flowed a loud and mighty water. They crossed a crumbling bridge and entered the gaping gates of the ruin. "What is this place?" gasped the awestruck boy, for in its day this had to have been the most wondrous and beautiful of palaces ever built by mortal hands.

"It was the pinnacle of man's achievement and the symbol of his newfound pride, ere the Master cast him out of Paradise for his treachery," said a firm, strong voice. Brin's eyes were wide with wonder and something verging on awe or fear as he studied the man before them; he had never seen nor imagined a man such as this. He seemed to have all the strength of full manhood but the vigor and vibrancy of youth; wisdom and joy filled his wonderful eyes and radiated from his person like heat and light from the sun. He was clad all in silver, white, and deepest blue and studied the newcomer with interest.

"Well met Kipril," said he, "who is your young friend?" Brin felt himself shudder under the gaze of this auspicious person, for how could he even deign to look upon such a wretch and not turn away in horror and disgust? But he could find nothing in the man's words, tone, or actions to confirm the revulsion he must certainly feel. The boy looked up in complete and utter confusion. The man laughed, seeming to know his thoughts, "easy lad, there is nothing to fear, now or ever. We are all the Master's servants and firmly in His keeping. Are you with us?"

Brin frowned, "I do not even know who or what you are sir?"

The man nodded, "fair enough I suppose. By the looks of you there was little time for explanation."

He turned questioning eyes to Kipril, who nodded, "he was on the brink. He has agreed to come but knows nothing of what he was choosing."

Garren nodded, "there is now plenty of time for explanation and he shall be able to come to a reasoned decision."

Brin cocked his head in confusion and asked, "a decision about what? I thought I was a dead man."

Garren said grimly, "lad, you are dead as far as the mortal world is concerned. All that you once knew as life is behind you and all eternity lies before you. The question is, will you continue to act in our Master's service within the confines of Time, in the world but not of it, or will you pass beyond this mortal sphere into whatever awaits beyond it?" The boy sat down heavily on a handy boulder, wondering if this day could get any stranger.

Kipril smiled, "it is overwhelming at first, but you already know what it is you want to do."

The boy nodded, "I need to finish the task that was set me."

Garren smiled deeply, "then you had best join the Messengers lad."

The boy looked up eagerly, "who are they?"

Garren answered, "we are men beyond death and Time, but not yet admitted to Eternity. We may still meddle in the affairs of mortals, at least so far as our Master's will allows us, in order to guide, advise, warn, and protect those to whom we are sent. We cannot force or injure any mortal man in any way, but we can protect them from certain evil servants of the Enemy and urge them to do what they must in times of danger and trial."

Brin gasped, "the Enemy?"

Kipril nodded grimly, "once the Master's greatest servant, now His greatest foe, who calls himself master and king over the mortal world and all its affairs. Various of his servants are our bitterest enemies and an undefeatable danger to mortal men, at least as far as mortal weapons are concerned."

Brin gasped, "Clara and my folk?"

Kipril shook his head grimly, "will soon find themselves unwillingly involved in a nefarious plot of our Foe."

Brin stood suddenly and said resolutely, "I want to fight such evil."

Garren nodded and Kipril seemed well pleased. Garren said quietly, "you do understand lad, that you can go back only with our Master's blessing? That you no longer have a part in the mortal world, save upon those errands our Master sets us? You will suffer physical and emotional pain and at times, you will fail in your set tasks? That you can no longer seek your own glory but must humbly and willingly do whatever it is our Master asks of us?"

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled in amusement, "I never had much, if any, glory of my own, but I shall gladly seek that of my Master."

They had been walking slowly as they talked and now stood on the crumbling bridge, about whose feet the river seemed to fret and grumble, as if it somehow begrudged this minor hindrance to its wild flow. Said Garren quietly, "then into the River with you lad."

Brin gave him a staggered look, even as the man pushed the boy headlong into the River. The current drove him down and seemed eager to bear him to depths unknown, when an unassailable peace overwhelmed him and as he relaxed, the current bore him to the bank where he lay for a moment dazed. As he sat up, he gasped to see himself clad as Garren, most especially with a great sword girt to his side, for he had never even seen such a weapon in his life, let alone worn one. Kipril reached down and again raised the boy to his feet, saying, "welcome lad, it is good to have you with us."

Brin eyed him joyfully, "did you know this would be the outcome when you sent me off on that ill-fated adventure?"

Kipril shook his head and smiled ruefully, "nay lad, I only knew someone had to go. We are not all-knowing, that belongs to our Master alone. I suspected but had no way of knowing. I knew some vile threat was coming upon your home country and one of your own must counter it."

"Excuse me, gentlemen," came the bored and musty voice that interrupted their conversation, "but are these the ruins of legendary Ambrosia?"

Garren shook his head in amusement, "tourists!"

"Quite," said the stuffy gentleman in his middle years, "now would you mind answering my question?"

Kipril said, "you have found them sir, or what is left of them."

The man looked to his equally prim wife and said, "I told you this was a fool's errand Mildred. There is not much here after all."

She nodded sadly, "I had so hoped there would be something of interest here, but alas, it is nothing but a barren hill, a dry riverbed, and some scattered stones." Brin turned stunned eyes upon these strange folk and wondered how they could not see the verdant hill, the grand but ruined castle, and the great River. Garren shook his head and the boy knew he must not voice his confusion. The man looked at the three of them strangely and said, "and what would you three be doing in this forsaken place?"

Kipril shrugged, "just showing the boy some remnants of the past."

The man smiled, "at least there is one lad in this crazed modern world interested in an education. Thank you for your assistance but I fear we must be going."

Once the man and his wife were well down the hill, Kipril and Garren broke into ill-contained laughter and Brin smiled in amusement, asking, "what was all that about?"

Garren shrugged, "every so often curiosity seekers and treasure hunters and adventurers turn up here, but none can see anything but a deep gully where no river flows, a few broken stones, and a hill upon which only briars and weeds will grow. Man dwelt here in his youth, before the world was broken by his rebellion and pride. He built this grand monument to himself on the very banks of the River of Life. A thing which our Master had strictly forbidden.

For his pride, man was cast out of Paradise into the mortal world where he was doomed to die, and never again was mortal man allowed to look upon that River, lest he drink of it and live forever in his fallen and wretched state. The Master also shattered their shrine that day and left it as you see it this day, though to mortal eyes it has crumbled into nothing but scattered stones. It is here among the ruins of man's pride that we commit ourselves anew to our Master's service, for 'twas He that ransomed us from the grip of sin and death. All men must die physically but we need not die spiritually, that is, to willfully choose to live forever apart from our Maker." Brin shivered at such a thought but knew it was a fate many a man chose in refusing the Master.

He looked up suddenly, remembering the horrible fate to which Clara was undoubtedly bound. Kipril said quietly, "you wonder what will come of your friend?"

The boy nodded, "can I not help her?"

Garren smiled eagerly, "that is one of the reasons you still linger within the confines of Time, is it not?"

The boy nodded resolutely, "and that shall be the first task to which I attend." He paused in confusion, "how did I know that?"

Kipril slapped him on the back, "you will know such things when you need them, as you will have the skills and resources at hand to accomplish what you must."

Brin frowned, "but you said something about failure?"

Garren nodded, "sometimes our success depends on the choices of mortal men and they are infamous for choosing wrongly, ignoring us, or even betraying us. The Enemy also has many servants in the world who are undoubtedly working against us and against whom we must often fight. You cannot truly die, but you can take injury and even appear dead for a time, and perhaps even find yourself banished to the River from whence you must start anew."

Brin nodded his understanding, then asked, "how is it we get from place to place? 'Twas a most wondrous horse that bore us here. Are we all so mounted?" Kipril smiled fondly as his own mount came up and affectionately nudged his shoulder, one moment he was a normal seeming beast and the next he shone like the sun. Brin had to cover his eyes at this sudden revelation of awesome beauty.

"The Pegassi," said Garren, "are our constant friends and our means of being where and when we are needed. They willingly partner with us in the Master's service."

The great winged horse nodded his agreement but suddenly he laid back his ears and said, "but where is the lad's companion?"

They all frowned at this and looked about in some confusion, even as Garren's Pegassi made his appearance, saying, "the lad is afoot for the moment. There has actually been a Refusal of our Calling!" The two elder Messengers looked stunned, while Brin just looked confused and greatly disappointed, though he could not quite understand why.

Kipril explained, "the Pegassi are an immortal race that dwells yet in lost Paradise. They are not rebels like the sons of men, doomed to die. But it is the duty and honor of their race to partner with us in the Master's service and when Called, each Pegassi has the choice of refusing, but theoretically in doing so he defies our Master's will and is thus cast into the mortal world."

Brin frowned, "in theory?"

Garren nodded, "it has never yet been done to my knowledge, until now." The Pegassi nodded grimly.

Kipril said, "you cannot get anywhere afoot, so for now you must accompany us."

Wing shook his head, "I must carry two of you?"

The other Pegassi snorted, "it is not as if they actually weigh anything. You might as well carry a hundred as one."

Wing reared and spread his wings in amusement, "it is just an idea I had never considered before. These are certainly strange days." He looked expectantly at Kipril and the newly minted Messenger, "well?" They exchanged an eager grin and quickly were astride the wondrous creature, and suddenly they were gone.

The Pegassi left them on the verge of a morning forest, overlooking a great, grim city. They dismounted and Brin wondered at their sudden change of garb. Kipril smiled at his surprise, "you will often find yourself appearing in different guises, depending upon the quest that is set you. Sometimes even those who should once have known you best will not recognize you at all."

Brin grinned, "and what is our mission that we appear as two of the meanest peasants in the Realm?"

Kipril said grimly, "today there shall either be wedding or an execution, neither shall be pleasant." Brin shivered, knowing they must somehow interfere before either could happen. They turned towards the cold, grim city and wondered what their part in the day's events might be.

Clara soon came to recognize her captors as the three mean boys from Brin's village and she was horrified to learn that they were returning her to her father and her betrothed lord. She thought she would much rather suffer poor Brin's fate than endure such a husband, but alas she had no say in the matter. As they raced back to her city, she prayed passionately for some escape or rescue, but there seemed no hope now that she was in the clutches of such vile boys. She had thought them only bullies, not villains capable of murder and kidnapping, but so they had proved themselves. They taunted her and threatened her with the fate that would befall her, but they dared not harm her physically or arrive with her in worse shape than absolutely necessary; their dark master was quite firm on that point. They finally reached the city where her father ruled and he was very glad to have the wretched princess home again, though she herself was far from happy in the matter.

The vile lord to whom she was promised, hissed in anticipation, "we must hold the wedding as soon as possible Sire, lest she think to run off again."

The King smiled cruelly, "we cannot risk it Lord Mauthom, you shall wed the wretched child on the morrow if that is agreeable?"

Clara shrieked, "I will not wed such a man!"

Mauthom slapped the girl for her insolence and snarled, "you will wed me on the morrow or you shall die a traitor's death. The choice is yours."

He smiled wickedly and the girl growled, "the latter shall be preferable."

"We shall see," hissed the villain, "remove her." Tyne and his cronies dragged Clara off to one of the towers and there locked her until it was time for her wedding or her doom. Once alone, she fell on her face and wept bitterly.

Preparations were soon begun and the entire Kingdom was expected to turn out for such an event. Many would come simply for the chance of a free meal and the rest out of curiosity or sheer dread, for none dared defy either their King or his most powerful and wicked Lord. The peasants came in their droves afoot, while the more affluent rode or came safely concealed from the wretched host in their carriages. Kipril and Brin easily infiltrated the city with the unnamed masses, the better question was, how were they to rescue the Princess?

"Will your Princess bend to her father's scheme or shall there be blood this day?" asked Kipril of Brin as they ambled along.

The boy replied, "she ran away from home to prevent this very thing. I cannot see her agreeing to it, thus we will need to interfere. I only wonder how Tyne and his cronies became involved?"

Kipril scratched his chin thoughtfully, "there was a Spy in your village, not long after your departure. Your three friends likely found themselves entangled in a scheme of his making."

Brin frowned, "a Spy?"

Kipril smiled, "one of the lesser undead servants of evil and by far the most common. Far less nasty than a Dreadlord, and with no vile magic like the Wraiths, they recruit men for their dread master, spy on his enemies, and infiltrate every level of society on various errands of evil intent. Their weapons can temporarily injure us to the point of seeming death, but only a decapitating blow will send us back to the River."

Brin laughed nervously, "to think you speak of such so lightly!"

Kipril shook his head in amusement, "and so too will you lad, once you get a few missions under your belt. Right now, I am sure, everything is new, overwhelming, and confusing, but you will soon feel as if this were what you were born to do."

By now they had reached the city square where the events of the day were to take place. Brin was lost in wonder as he gazed at the castle that towered high overhead, never having seen such a structure in his short and unassuming life, save the ruined splendor of Ambrosia. He felt his forward momentum checked suddenly which drew him back to reality; a stern looking guard was blocking Brin's further progress with the shaft of his spear. He growled, "stop gawking fool and stay with your fellow vermin!"

Brin grinned in embarrassment and ducked back into the crowd with the vastly amused Kipril, "a man of the world, I see! You will see much greater and stranger things than a castle lad, in the course of your service."

Brin made no reply, for surprise had silenced his tongue as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and a gruff voice said, "come along gentlemen, my master will have words with you." Kipril had found himself likewise conscripted by the rough looking giant; they exchanged a curious look and allowed their uncouth host to draw them out of the teaming masses and into the shadowy depths of an all but abandoned inn.

They found themselves seated at a table in a forgotten corner, facing a preoccupied young man who bore a striking resemblance to the imperiled Princess. He said quietly to the gigantesque servant, "keep looking Garth, for Clara's sake, keep looking!" The man bowed deeply to his master and vanished swiftly from the inn. The distraught youth paced uneasily before his strange guests, "I am sorry for the suddenness of this interview, but we have little time. My sister is in grave danger and each moment draws us closer to disaster. I have sent my most faithful servant out, seeking those who might avail me in rescuing my sister from our father and those that would destroy her. You do not look like much, I must say, but if Garth thinks you can assist me, then I do not doubt your skills or your courage."

The Messengers exchanged an intrigued smile as the Prince continued, "for the love of your Princess, will you risk your lives to aid me in her rescue?"

Kipril said solemnly, "we are at your service, Highness." Brin could not believe what was happening, but seemed excited by the prospect and nodded eagerly.

Bayard smiled approvingly and said, "then we shall not wait on Garth, he must find us if he discovers any more faithful swords. We can lose no more time. Come!" He dashed from the inn with the Messengers close on his heels.

Kipril said quietly to Brin's unasked question, "Providence lad, Providence. A way is always provided, though not always a victory." Brin smiled in unabashed excitement and hurried after their royal ringleader.

Lord Mauthom and the King waited impatiently for the advent of the Princess. They heard the sounds of her protests and struggles long before she was forcibly thrust through the doors of the chamber in which they waited. The Lord raised one eyebrow and said, "she is not going to go through with it?"

The King growled, "she is not fool enough to die for refusing, she will come around." His Lordship did not seem to agree. The girl was nearly flung into their presence and the door slammed shut behind her.

Knowing there was no use in hysterics with such an audience, she drew herself up regally and said, "I will not go through with it, Sire so you might as well send for the headsman."

Her father said grimly, "do not be ridiculous, you will change your mind when your doom is upon you, women are all such fickle creatures. Now go prepare yourself!" She nodded resignedly, knowing resistance was futile, at least she could die looking like a proper lady. The King turned to his Lord and said hopefully, as the girl left the room, "see, she has come around." Mauthom shook his head, not sharing the King's assessment of the situation; she had simply decided that resistance would gain her nothing and would die with some semblance of dignity.

Clara withdrew from their presence, looked straight ahead as she was ushered away by the servants, and carried herself with as much regality as she could muster. She would not die in hysterics. They came to her chambers where she was to attire herself for the day's festivities. One of the nervous servants squeaked, "your ladies await within, my Lady."

She nodded regally to the cowering creature and entered her chambers, much to the relief of all that she would resist no longer, though none envied her her fate. What she found within, nearly made her scream in surprise but a strong hand from behind quieted her outburst. She nearly fainted in relief when she discovered that it was her brother's strong arms that were the only things keeping her upright. He put a finger to his lips to silence her as she began to understand that perhaps hope had found her at last. Her ladies sat, bound and gagged, with eyes bulging in fear and anger at being so manhandled, even by the young Prince. "Now," said he, "we must get you away from here without anyone the wiser."

Clara shook her head, "I cannot escape like this, they will know it was you! Your life will be forfeit."

Bayard shook his head grimly, "that may be so, but I cannot live in knowing you have suffered such a fate. It is the only way."

She nodded resignedly, and said, "but how is it to be done?"

Only as Kipril spoke did she notice the two men who occupied one corner of the room, "leave that to me, my Lady."

She frowned, "but they will know that something is amiss when I do not emerge in due time."

Brin threw a veil over his head and said impishly, "no they shall not, at least until they figure out that the bride is not who they thought."

She stared in amazement at the boy, "Brin! How can this be? When they took me..."

He smiled wistfully, "it is high time you started believing in miracles Highness, because it will take one to get you safely away from here!"

She laughed quietly in relieved wonder, "then let us be about it. How is it you plan to spirit me away?"

"Just follow me, my Lady," said Kipril smilingly, "and all shall be revealed to you."

She exchanged a mystified look with her brother, while Brin smiled eagerly. She shrugged and followed her unlikely rescuer into the adjoining chamber, which boasted neither windows nor doors, save that through which they entered. A small gasp of wonder escaped her lips as she discovered a full grown horse in her bedchamber. The man's only reply was a deepening of his smile. She shook her head in wonder, climbed aback the beast, and all three vanished as soon as Kipril had mounted behind her.

The prince poked his head into the inner chamber to discover that his sister had mysteriously vanished, and then turning to Brin, said, "she is gone! How did you do it? Will I ever see her again?"

Brin shook his head grimly and offered the Prince his arm, "are either of us likely to survive this adventure? She is safe, and so is our mission accomplished. That is all either of us need know or hope for."

Bayard laughed eagerly and took the proffered limb as Brin pulled the veil over his face. The Prince said, "nay my dear 'Lady,' that is very unlikely. But at least I shall not die of curiosity trying to discover how your friend managed to escape with my sister or how you seem to have miraculously escaped the fate my sister thought you suffered."

Brin smiled mysteriously, "you will see stranger things yet, I think. Come, we do not want to be late for my big day!"

The Prince shook his head, set a regal look on his face, and escorted his 'sister' from the chamber. The servants and soldiers standing about outside the door were quite perplexed to see the Lady emerge with her brother, for none had seen the Prince go in. He said in answer to their astounded looks, "I shall escort her Highness to the ceremony. Await us here. No one is to enter this chamber until our return, upon pain of death. Am I understood?" The minions nodded in abject terror but also sighed in utter relief, for this loathsome duty no longer belonged to them nor did the consequences of its failure.

They emerged into the courtyard of the castle where an ornate carriage waited to carry her Ladyship to the town square. They arrived shortly, amidst the muted cheers of the populace who loved their Lady but dreaded this union to such a man, but more did they fear for their own lives, thus did they cheer out of false excitement but so too did they live to see the morrow. The carriage drew to a stop and the Prince emerged and helped the bride from the vehicle. The King was quite surprised to see the girl arrive without a fuss and escorted by her brother, who had up until now objected bitterly to the match. He smiled in anticipation, seeing that both of his children had come to their senses.

Bayard offered the bride his arm and escorted her to his father and the waiting groom. They each made the proper courtesies and then the Prince gave the bride's arm into the keeping of the groom. Mauthom was quite perplexed by the display, trying to discern any trickery in the gesture, for he knew it could not be true submission to the will of their father. He said nothing, but took the proffered arm and escorted the bride to the waiting General, who would officiate the ceremony. He glanced back at the prince and saw an eager light burning in his eyes; the vile lord smiled triumphantly, he knew there was something amiss.

Once they stood before the aged soldier, Mauthom turned his bride so that they faced one another and threw aside 'her' veil. The spectators gasped at this horrendous breach of protocol but cried out in amazement when their Princess was revealed to be a young man with a look of sheer, impish delight on his face. Snarled Mauthom, "where is the Princess?!"

Brin grinned insolently, "far from your vile clutches."

Mauthom raised a dagger he had pulled from some hidden place and growled, "as you would be wise to be."

Steel met steel as Bayard's sword blocked the attack, the Prince said, "not so fast Lord Mauthom. Let me be the instrument of Justice this day for all the evils you have wrought amongst our people, plotting my sister's ruin was merely the most recent."

"Justice, bah!" snarled the fell Lord as he drew his own sword and leapt into the fray with this upstart youth.

Brin drew back from the whirling pair, but stopped his retreat when a familiar voice shouted, "Brin? You are supposed to be dead!"

"What is this?" hissed the Spy at Tyne, "I thought you had killed this wretch?"

Tyne said in mystification, "I am certain I did."

The Spy snarled, "then he is mine. You three help our dear, embattled Lord and destroy that traitorous fool they call a prince." Tyne shook his head in disgust, for he wanted to kill Brin himself, but he dared not disobey his vile master; he and his two cronies rushed to the aid of Lord Mauthom, for whom it was already too late.

The dying lord was on his knees, clutching at his ruined chest in utter amazement. Bayard turned to face this new threat just in time. He managed to fell one of his foes but the others pierced him through; the valiant Prince crumpled unmoving to the ground. Tyne and his surviving companion looked eagerly to where Brin crossed swords with their cruel master. Where had that peasant learned to wield a sword? Brin wondered the very same thing, for he seemed to have an innate ability with the weapon, though he had never handled a sword in his life. The Spy however, was the more skilled of the two, for he soon struck a mortal blow upon the insolent boy, who swiftly returned the favor, before falling into darkness. The Spy screamed in agony and fell to ash where he stood. Tyne and all those watching stared in mystified horror.

The King finally found his voice as he cried, "what calamity has befallen us? My own son a traitor! My greatest Lord dead! My daughter vanished! What shall come of my House and my Kingdom?" He frowned at the uneasy Tyne, "where is your master? You managed to bring my daughter back to me once, can you do it again?

Tyne shook his head, "I have no idea what has come of either, Sire."

The King huffed in agitation, "at least see to those traitors."

"Sire?" came the flummoxed reply.

The King growled, "Lord Mauthom shall lie in state and have a proper burial. Take those two traitorous wretches outside the city and burn their carcasses; spread their accursed ashes on the dung heap!"

Tyne said in surprise, "even the Prince?"

The King snarled, "he is no son of mine. Get you gone with them!" Tyne shivered at the venom in the King's words and quickly set about his grim task.

Brin suddenly awoke in the back of what smelled like a refuse cart. He glanced about him in some surprise, it seemed that the Prince and he were indeed in a refuse cart and on their way to some ignominious end. He recognized Tyne's back in the wagon seat above, but thankfully he seemed oblivious to the movement of his supposedly dead passengers. Brin shifted his attention to the Prince and felt at his neck, there was a pulse; it was weak and sporadic but it was enough. Bayard wakened slightly at the touch of his companion and glanced dazedly at Brin. Brin held a finger to his lips to silence the Prince, but he was too weak to make any reply. Brin whispered, "will you come?"

Bayard nodded weakly and fainted with the effort, but Brin's firm grip on his shoulder soon roused him. This time, the former Prince seemed fully within his senses with questions aplenty in his eyes. Brin shook his head and eyed Tyne's silent form. Bayard nodded in understanding, he would get no answers until they were well away from their vile chauffer. The cart lurched as the sound of steady plodding became that of loud splashing; they were fording a shallow stream. Brin smiled eagerly and leapt from the wagon bed. Bayard was not long in following. They took cover in the bushes beside the creek. Tyne did not notice their departure amid the noise of the pony and cart; he was quite perplexed when he reached his destination to find that his cargo had mysteriously vanished.

Once Tyne was well out of sight and hearing, Bayard said excitedly, "what has happened? I think I should be dead!"

Brin nodded, as he glanced about, "and you are, at least to all you once knew."

Bayard frowned, as his perplexity deepened, "what do you mean?"

Brin grinned, "you wanted to know what happened to your sister; you are about to find out."

Bayard followed Brin's eager gaze and shook his head in wonder, "you were right, I am seeing stranger things by the moment!"

Kipril had just appeared aback his Pegassi, visible to both boys in all his wonder. "Need a lift?" said he.

Brin laughed, "certainly!"

Bayard shook his head, "I have no choice if I am to understand any of this."

The two boys climbed aback the waiting Pegassi, who murmured, "three! This is getting quite out of hand!"

Kipril laughed in reply, "only until we find these lads wings of their own."

The Pegassi shook his head in wonder, "hopefully they find them soon, I am beginning to feel like a nag for hire!"

Brin smiled, "I certainly appreciate your sacrifice on our behalf, my dear Pegassi."

The creature snorted in amusement, "I suppose it is no trouble at that." He reared and the world spun; Bayard gaped at all the wonder about him. Talking horses and now this! They found themselves suddenly before the gates of the ruined castle, dejectedly overlooking the rushing River.

Bayard slid from the great creature's back and faced his companions ere they had found time to dismount. "What have I entangled myself in?" asked he.

Kipril said in surprise, "you have told him nothing?"

Brin shrugged, "there really was no time."

Kipril grinned, "well, here there is Time aplenty, or rather, we are well beyond such mortal concerns."

"Who or what are you?" asked Bayard in growing confusion.

Brin looked to Kipril, "I hardly know more than he, you had best explain."

Kipril laughed, "true enough, I suppose. It was not that long ago that I found Brin near death, at the time of your sister's capture."

Bayard nodded, "so at least you were no ghost when you were of help to her." He glanced down at his own bloodied tunic and said, "but then, I do not feel a ghost either."

Kipril shook his head, "nay lad, no ghosts are we. The Master does not allow spirits to wander at will. After death we must dwell ever within or away from His presence. We are merely men who have chosen to remain within the mortal sphere yet beyond mortality, but ever, only in His service and at His direction do we roam. You may yet choose to enter Eternity and be finished with mortal affairs."

Bayard frowned, "but that was not your choice?"

Brin grinned, "else we would not be standing here discussing such metaphysical impossibilities."

Asked the late Prince, "how did you know I was in the Master's keeping and not some valiant, but indifferent creature?"

Kipril shrugged, "we did not, but Brin could not have Asked nor could you have Agreed without it being so. You would have simply died of your wounds and that would have been the end of the matter, at least as far as we were concerned. So?"

Bayard smiled eagerly, "I little understand what I am about to undertake, but I would not miss it for the world. What must I do?" Kipril grinned like a maniac as he pushed the eager boy headlong into the River.

The boy came ashore much as Brin had done not so long ago, but there to meet him was an overeager Pegassi. Brin watched their meeting with wistful curiosity as Kipril put an encouraging hand on his shoulder, "fear not lad, you are never alone, nor will you be forever afoot."

The boy smiled knowingly, "and that will be my next task."

Bayard and his new companion joined them, "you mean our next task. Come!" They exchanged an eager grin, climbed aback the waiting Pegassi, and vanished from sight.

The world quit spinning and they found themselves on a broad, grassy expanse of silent hills that marched off in their unending ranks to the horizon. The Pegassi set out at an eager trot, for he knew exactly where they were wanted. They soon came upon a curious sight in the midst of those lonely hills, for they were no longer alone.

"Come here lads, come here!" came a voice familiar to Brin's ears. It could not be! But it was, for here again was the stuffy tourist who was so disappointed to find nothing left of the fabled castle of Ambrosia. They stopped a polite distance from the man and dismounted, looking about curiously. The tourist said, "have you come to help in the Great Chase?"

Brin asked, "and what would that be Sir?"

The man spread his arms expansively, to take in all about them, saying, "why, we are going to capture the world's most wondrous horse. He is rumored to roam these very hills and to have strayed out of fabled Paradise itself. Why else would I go to such expense to transport lumber way out here and build an impervious corral?"

Bayard scratched his head, "what if it is all a rumor?"

The man smiled patiently, as if the boy was an imbecile, "I have it on the best of authority that the creature is real and as impressive as they say. My scouts and hunters have sighted the beast a number of times. Tomorrow we shall catch him!"

Brin asked, "have you given up your pursuit of ancient ruins?"

The man shook his head, finally recognizing the boy, "I am a treasure hunter my boy, be it old ruins or fabulous beasts, it is the mysteries of the world that intrigue me and make life worth the living. I have the money and the time, so I might as well indulge myself as not." He then proceeded to show them around his small camp and beamed proudly as they studied the enclosure that would be strong enough to hold a herd of wild, angry bulls. The boys exchanged a wondering glance, but said nothing of their thoughts on the morrow's anticipated business. It would be an interesting day, to say the least.

A scout roused them all from their beds very early the next morning, shouting, "we have him! Up, up! We have him!"

The various servants, friends, and adventurers that inhabited the camp soon dashed from their tents, threw on their clothes, and then rushed to the picket lines to saddle their horses. The scout paced impatiently while the hasty preparations were made, but they were all very quickly in their saddles. The scout, on a fresh horse, led the party out and at strategic points along their path, left men in twos and threes until only he, his master, and Bayard remained. The scout left them and hastened off to find the men still in pursuit of the beast. He had not far to ride and eagerly called to his companions.

The flagging horses of the pursuers fell behind as the three fresh beasts and their riders took up the chase. And so it went, with each rider dropping out as his horse gave up in exhaustion, but always there were fresh riders to keep the hunted creature at the gallop as they drew ever nearer to the enclosure. Brin waited in the camp with a few of the servants who had no horses, ready to swing the gate closed once the beast was within the corral. The horses were stumbling in exhaustion when they finally came within sight, but their quarry was in no better condition. What a beast this must be to run so far, so fast!

Had he not been exhausted, the creature might have avoided the trap, but he was far too weak to fight his pursuers any longer. He ran into the midst of the enclosure and promptly collapsed, but even in his weariness, he still looked ready to fight to the death. Gradually, the eccentric tourist and his varied companions trickled into the camp and looked into the pen with a combination of awe and pride. Even run near to death, the creature truly was the most wondrous horse ever foaled. Bayard and Brin shared an enigmatic smile. The Pegassi shook his head sadly, to look upon the pitiful state of his late kinsman.

"Well lads?" came the voice of the architect of the entire scheme, "What think you now of my little venture?"

Brin said incredulously, "I cannot believe it Sir, even seeing it with my own eyes. It is quite amazing!"

The man shook his head grimly, "nay lad, the amazing part is yet to come, if it comes at all. We still have to break the beast."

Brin nodded, "may I try?"

The man gaped at the boy, "I did not think you suicidal, boy?"

Brin said quietly, as he mounted the fence, "not suicidal, just impulsive. I would have a word with your beast, if I may?"

The man shook his head in astonishment, "it is your life!"

The creature had by now caught his breath, but he lay quietly in the pen, eyeing the men dangerously. The advent of one of the vile creatures within the enclosure made the beast rise suddenly to his feet.

Brin approached cautiously, holding his empty hands open at his side. The horse watched him like a hunting cat and dared the intrepid child to come closer. The boy said in a whisper, as he drew nearer the fallen Pegassi, "you can yet return to your Master! As there is hope for fallen man, so too is there hope for you, should you choose to seek it..."

The boy's words were cut short by a vicious squeal and simultaneous kick from the outraged horse. The audacity! He laid his ears flat in perplexity, how did the child know? Only then did curiosity overcome his wrath; he looked about, to see what had come of the boy. Brin lay in a heap on one side of the pen, where the force of the kick had thrown him. The horse shook his head and blew out his nostrils in frustration. It was the child's own fault! He should know better than to taunt a cornered beast. Now he would never know how the boy knew. Something like regret and guilt were gnawing at the once proud beast's heart, but terror suddenly replaced all else. A wicked laugh filled the ears and froze the hearts of all present, most especially the horse.

"I thank you for your effort on my behalf," snarled the Dreadlord, "I will be taking possession of the beast, and anything else my master might find useful." There came no resistance, for none had the heart to refuse such a monster. Bayard reached for the sword that was not there, the Pegassi snorted his frustration, and Brin suddenly stirred.

The monster hissed, "you will wish the beast had finished you boy, if you are so utterly foolish in service to my master! Captain! Secure the camp."

Only then did they notice the dozen black-garbed soldiers behind the horrid creature. They quickly rifled through the camp, its inhabitants, and their luggage, taking whomever and whatever they pleased. The Tourist escaped with his life, but little else. Once the vile troop had left, he collapsed in a heap and wept, as if he had lost his soul as well. They conscripted a half dozen of the young men into the service of the Blackguard that day, and none seemed eager for the honor. They took the best of the horses, but after the day's events, they were not much to look at. They only found five capable of bearing a rider and the prisoners could not walk, for the Dreadlord was impatient enough with his mounted companions.

The fell thing laughed cruelly as it said to Brin, "since you love the beast more than your life, why don't you ride him until we reach our destination?"

Brin shivered as the vile thing caught his eyes, but he said nothing as he drew away from the creature and approached the terrified horse. He whispered quietly, "perhaps we can find a way out of this together?"

The creature shuddered but said just as quietly, "I had rather trust you than that thing. I cannot believe I am saying this, but mount up."

The Dreadlord and his soldiers were quite disappointed, and not a little amazed, that the boy was actually able to mount the wild creature. They did not know why, but they knew their fell master was desperate to have the beast in his possession. They could care less about the boy, but now they would have both! The wretched party then set off, at the fastest pace the tired horses could maintain. The Dreadlord could not fathom how the boy managed to survive both his first and second encounter with the horse. Why did his master so desperately desire the creature? Perhaps he could discover the secret and use it to his own advantage.

They were forced to stop for the night when full dark fell because the mortal members of the party could not go on. The Dreadlord vanished on some errand of his own, leaving the Blackguard to watch the fabulous beast and the new recruits. The captain was not long in addressing his conscripts and telling them of the glories that awaited faithful service and the horrors to be met with else. Brin and Bayard kept their faces blank while the others either shrunk in terror or a thoughtful look entered their eyes as the captain spoke.

Continued the captain, "I was once like you: weak, pathetic, lost, scared, but now look at me! The same can happen to you. I came from an obscure village at the back end of the world and thought to make my living as a bandit, but that my lads, is a dangerous profession. The ruling powers do not look with favor on such activities and soon put an end to it, but I discovered the power that can challenge the power of Kings! And so can you."

Brin interrupted this monologue with, "perhaps mortal Kings cower before such evil, but there is a King above all Kings who has already defeated your vile master!"

The captain scoffed, "you are a bold little magpie, boy! Do you not know that such words can earn you a terrible death? I had a wife who used to spout such drivel and it only earned her abandonment and poverty!" A wicked smile graced his lips, "perhaps when we are done with whatever strange errand that monster intends, I shall see what has come of the woman and her wretched son. A pathetic creature that, he probably did not even survive infancy." Brin stared in wonder, this man...could it be?

Before he could ask a foolish question, a quavering voice asked, "Sir, did you originally dwell in Greenvale?"

The captain looked towards the awkward soldier in astonishment, "how did you know?"

Brin shivered, for here was Tyne, now a member of the Blackguard! How far would he descend into evil? Tyne answered timidly, "for that was my home and there were rumors regarding a certain widow and her son..."

The captain laughed mirthlessly, "widow indeed! Tell me of her son."

Tyne's nervousness increased as he continued, "he was ever weak and small, Sir, and as deluded in his thinking as ever his mother was."

The captain smiled wickedly, "was?"

Tyne swallowed hard, "yes, Sir. He was killed trying to aid our enemies."

"And?" asked the Captain in grim delight.

Tyne gulped, "and it was I that killed him."

The captain nodded appreciatively, "and good riddance. What would you say to a visit home, lad?"

Tyne smiled in cruel anticipation, "I think it would be most delightful, Sir."

The captain smiled, "I thought as much."

"You are not going anywhere," snarled the Dreadlord, "at least not until that beast is secure in our master's keeping."

The creature had returned suddenly from whatever its private errand had been and was irate to find its wretched slaves conspiring amongst themselves. They would soon learn the price of treachery! "Let them be!" came a firm voice of command.

Brin could not help but grin while all the others gasped in terror and awe, all save the Dreadlord, who laughed mockingly and drew his sword. Bayard sat his Pegassi with sword in hand; the pair glowed fit to shame the moon. The Dreadlord snarled in anticipation and summoned its own fell beast, which came snarling out of the darkness. The mortal soldiers drew back in horror and gave the terrible creatures room to fight. The Dreadlord's reptilian horse screamed a challenge to the eager Pegassi. Light and darkness flashed like lightning as the two exchanged sword strokes; both suddenly vanished as they exchanged mortal blows. During all the excitement, Brin snuck away to the picket lines and there confronted the late Pegassi, who trembled in terror.

The boy said reassuringly, as he loosed the creature, "make good your escape while the others are distracted."

The horse looked upon the boy in astonishment, "have you any idea how terrible it is for me to witness such a spectacle? I will gladly run, most especially to be free of that horrid creature! But what of you?"

The boy shook his head, "I will manage somehow, but you cannot be found if that Dreadlord wins! Now go, but remember, your Master has not forsaken you!"

The horse blew out his nostrils in consternation, "who are you?"

The boy smiled impishly and said, "someday perhaps, you will hear the full tale, but for now...Run!" The horse saw what the boy was staring at, quickly turned, and vanished into the darkness.

The captain and his terrified soldiers surrounded the treacherous boy, demanding, "what is so wonderful about that miserable horse that you would sell your life for his?" The boy did not answer but only smiled enigmatically. The captain, in his wrath, smote the boy where he stood. He stared down at the unmoving Brin, and said in quiet wrath, "break camp. We will be paying my poor wife a long overdue visit." The soldiers were too terrified by the events of the evening to do anything but obey, and soon they had struck camp and vanished into the greying east.

Once the soldiers were well and truly gone, the horse wandered out of the shrouding mist and nosed the prone boy. Brin sat up and grinned joyously at Erian, "did I not tell you to run?"

The horse blew out his nostrils in amusement, "why should I take orders from one who seems intent on his own destruction?" He cocked his head curiously, "how is it that you have survived all attempts to kill you?"

Brin grinned, "that I cannot say."

The horse asked, "then will you at least tell me what our next adventure shall be?"

The boy stood and said, "I thought you would never ask. We must get to Greenvale before those villains do."

The horse threw his head up in eagerness, "finally, a task worthy of my attention. I can outrun those mortal nags without breaking a sweat."

Brin asked, "shall we be off?"

The horse whinnied his amusement, "we are only waiting upon you, my dear sir."

Brin smiled, "then we had best be off." And so they were. Erian was not boasting, for he easily reached the little town before the vile host. They stopped in a little copse just outside of town and the boy whispered to the horse, "you had best wait here, I will not be long."

The horse said quizzically, "what are we going to do when our friends arrive?"

The boy shrugged, "I have no idea."

The horse gasped, "then why are we here?"

The boy's grin deepened in a most irritating fashion, as he said over his shoulder as he retreated towards the village, "I will be back soon." The horse shook his head in wonder. Would he ever get used to mortals?

Brin silently approached his mother's cottage, careful not to reveal his presence. He knew his folk would know him and that he must not be seen. He ducked quickly into the cottage, only to find a knife at his throat, but there came a sudden gasp and the weapon dropped to the floor. "Brin!" came the astonished voice.

He smiled impishly at Clara, "Princess?"

She had regained her composure and her weapon as she replied, "how is it you keep popping up when least expected?" The boy shrugged and she sobered, "where is my brother?"

He said quietly, "he did not survive the King's wrath."

She nodded sadly but then frowned in consternation, "how then did you?"

He shook his head, "remember what I told you about miracles?"

She sighed, "will you ever give me a straight answer?"

He grinned, "someday, perhaps. Where is my mother?"

A look of concern crossed her face, "you do not know?"

He shook his head, "this is my first visit home since our little adventure."

She replied, "your mother is dying, perhaps even now upon her deathbed." She brightened, "perhaps your presence will give her the strength and will to go on."

He shook his head sadly, "I no longer belong to her, but perhaps I can give her peace ere it is over."

They walked together into the little bedroom, and the frail woman in the bed smiled, "I thought I heard your voice, child!" She looked him over and smiled proudly, "or rather my boy is become a man! What of this dread that that stranger said would come upon us?"

The boy smiled fondly down at his mother, saying, "it will soon enough be upon the village, I have come to give warning and others will bring hope unlooked for, but you will sleep before then."

The poor woman sighed, "I will miss this adventure too I suppose, but at least I can die in peace, having seen my boy one last time." She frowned, "what of Clara? She has been as a daughter to me since that stranger of yours left her upon my doorstep."

Brin smiled, "she will be well beyond danger when it comes."

Clara scowled, "and who said I want to be away from here?"

Brin said grimly, "Tyne comes with them."

She paled at mention of her kidnapper and said, "since you put it that way, how do I get out of here?"

Brin laughed, "that is another reason I am here."

His mother asked hopefully, "is there something else I will have to miss?"

The pair exchanged a startled look and then Brin said sheepishly, "we are only friends, mother."

She sighed in some disappointment but said weakly, "perhaps I should rest a bit." She turned over, as if in sleep, but it was the sleep of death.

Clara looked at Brin sadly, "she is gone!"

Brin nodded, and said musingly, "and her sorrows evermore behind her."

Clara stared at him, "your mother has just died and that is all you can say?"

He looked at her in surprise, wondering at her vehement reaction and then realized what his words must sound like to mortal ears! To him, death was simply a bridge that must be crossed into greater things, especially for those in the Master's keeping. To Clara, it was the end of everything she knew and loved. He said quietly, "do not think me a heartless wretch, my mother's life has been one of trial and grief. She now looks upon a far brighter morning!"

She shook her head, "I see your point, but she was your mother!"

Brin smiled wistfully, "and we will not be forever sundered, but for now there are other things we must be about. Quickly, danger comes!"

Clara shook off her confusion, gathered her few possessions, and followed the cautious Brin back to the little wood where Erian waited. He laid his ears back upon sighting the girl, not liking the thought of strangers at this pivotal moment. Brin said without preamble, "this is Clara and she should not be found when the Blackguard comes, and neither should you. Would you aid her escape?"

She looked at the boy as if he were mad to address a horse so, and nearly fainted when the horse actually replied, "I suppose, if it is as you say, though I had hoped to make my stand against such foes."

Brin shook his head, "you cannot risk falling into enemy hands again. You both need to disappear."

"He is right," agreed a new voice, "for there is little time!"

Brin was not sure who was the more startled, Erian or Clara, as Bayard rode into the little cluster of trees. The plainly clad boy smiled at his sister, who gaped like a stranded fish. He slid from his saddle, hugged the astounded girl, and helped her aback the flummoxed Erian. Said she, "Bayard? But Brin said..."

Bayard shook his head, "there is no time for explanation, but know that I am well! Farewell!"

The horse turned his head back to look at the girl and asked, "have you any idea what is going on?"

She smiled in amusement, "not the slightest, but I have learned to trust their words, no matter how strange, for this will not be the first time they have saved my life!"

He shook his head in wonder but said, "then we had best heed them again. Farewell!"

Once the mortal pair had vanished from sight, Brin asked, "what news?"

Bayard smiled in eagerness, "the Blackguard shall fall upon your folk tomorrow at first light. I have found a few friends who will be eager to make their acquaintance not long thereafter."

Brin nodded, "then I must give warning this evening. Care to join me?"

Bayard nodded, "I would be honored." He grinned knowingly, "and you will likely need my aid." Brin arched an eyebrow in question. Bayard laughed, "your folk are not likely to take the word of a local boy, but perhaps they will listen to a stranger?"

Brin shook his head, "they ignored Kipril once they got over their initial wonder at seeing a real live stranger."

Bayard said in feigned disappointment, "so they have already seen so legendary a creature? Alas, I shall not have the honor of being a novelty." The two boys shared a laugh before making their way into the village while the Pegassi vanished from sight.

Evening was nigh as the two boys entered the inn. The locals had already begun to gather at the close of another day, and once word spread of the visitors at the inn, far more gathered than was usual, the whole town in fact. They were intrigued by the stranger, but even more curious as to where the widow's son had been and what tales he had to tell of the wide world upon his return.

"So you are back," said the Mayor as calmly as he could, "what can you tell us of the Outlands?"

Brin said grimly, "that you may very soon know more of them than you could ever wish, tomorrow in fact."

The Mayor frowned, "what is this you say?"

Brin continued, "a small company of evil soldiers will invade the village tomorrow at first light!"

The Mayor laughed contemptuously, "you sound as mad as that stranger that came around about the time you ran off! Danger indeed! What could strangers find of benefit in this corner of the world?"

Bayard asked, "what indeed?"

The Mayor frowned at the boy's seeming impertinence.

Continued Bayard, "have you sons they can conscript? Daughters and wives they can ravage if they please? Goods and wealth they can plunder? They may just kill you for the fun of it! Come man, be sensible!"

The Mayor glowered, "and what would two obstreperous youths know about such things?"

The folk about him mumbled their agreement, shouting their objections to the upstart boys before them. The boys tried to reason with them, but the villagers would not listen. They vanished quietly into the night, leaving the villagers to laugh scornfully in their wake.

Dawn came, and the Blackguard with it. They were not long in gathering the entire town upon the village green, where they trembled in unimaginable terror, at the very idea of which they had laughed mockingly only the night before.

The captain grabbed the Mayor by his lapels and lifted him bodily off the ground, "remember me?"

The Mayor stared, "it cannot be!"

The captain laughed, "but it is!"

The Mayor frowned, "and to think your own son would betray you, yet we would not listen!"

The captain dropped the Mayor in astonishment, "my son? I was told the wretch was dead." He looked about for Tyne, "where is that fool who claims to have killed the boy?"

The soldiers were silent in terror, gawking about like peasants on their first trip to the city, unsure where to look next. Tyne came running from the edge of the village and soon felt the mood of his captain, said he in a terrified squawk, "your wife lies dead in her bed, Sir!"

The man shook his head, "who cares about her, what is this I hear about my son?"

Tyne cowered, "Sir?"

The captain glared at the Mayor, who stuttered, "the boy was here last night, warning us of your coming."

The captain stared at Tyne, "well?"

Tyne shrunk even further as he said, "I did kill the fool, but he has the uncanny habit of reappearing when you know him dead and least want him. Twice now I have seen him dead, yet he continues to come back! I cannot explain it."

The captain glowered, "and how did this minor detail escape mention when you told me you had made an end of the wretched child?"

Tyne quivered, "I did not think it important nor could I explain it. I feared you would take me for a madman."

The captain forgot his terrified minion and said thoughtfully to himself, "so the wretch has discovered immortality? Perhaps I too can learn this secret." He smiled avariciously.

But his smile soon vanished as he found his company surrounded by a greater number of men in uniforms he hated to his core. The Whiteguard had come. The villagers were unsure of their sanity as this new troop of soldiers suddenly appeared in their once quiet village. "Drop your weapons and you need not be harmed," came the confident voice of their captain.

"It is your own life you should be worried about, fool!" came the snarling voice of the Dreadlord as he dismounted from his infernal beast.

"Ware for your own skin, creature!" came Bayard's challenge, as he galloped into the fray aback his Pegassi.

The creature hissed in delight as it drew its sword, "you will not triumph this time, boy!" The Dreadlord fulfilled his own prediction as he smote the bothersome boy through the heart and he vanished in a flash of light. It snarled, "now where were we?"

There came no answer but a howl of dismay, as the creature fell to ash as Brin pierced him through from behind. He bowed formally to the captain of the Whiteguard, saying, "you may continue, Sir." The man saluted the boy and gave him a grateful smile, but he soon lay gasping on the sward, mortally wounded by the enemy captain, who shook with rage and towered over the insignificant youth. The stunned soldiers finally woke from their stupor and fell upon one another in a swirl of death around their captain and his son.

"Can it be?" snarled the dark captain at the unimpressed boy.

Brin sheathed his blade and said quietly, "I was your son."

After a sharp intake of breath, the captain continued, "how did you come by such power?"

The boy frowned, "what power?"

The captain held his sword to the boy's throat, "you will tell me the secret of your immortality and how you come to possess skill enough to vanquish so terrible a creature as a Dreadlord!"

Brin shook his head sadly, "my knowledge cannot avail you unless you bend knee to the Master of All. It is His power alone that can conquer death and such awful foes. It is none of my doing."

"Fool!" squealed the captain, as he struck true.

The boy, for a moment, lay stunned, but even the gravest wound from a mortal weapon could little harm him. The fell captain was now too busy fighting for his own life with the remainder of the Whiteguard to notice the boy's miraculous recovery. Brin quietly crawled to where the dying captain lay and whispered, "come." The man nodded weakly, even as he drew his last breath, shuddered, and lay still. The boy frowned, this was not how it was supposed to happen. He heard a quiet laugh behind him and turned to find Kipril and the dazed captain standing at his shoulder. The boy gaped, from where the captain stood to where the captain lay. No one else seemed to notice what was going on, though the fighting was nearly over with the more numerous Whiteguard victorious.

Kipril grinned, as he said, "things are not always the same, especially in a public setting. I shall take care of your captain, you see if there are any others." The boy smiled, rose, and dashed to the nearest of the downed Whiteguard, but the man was already dead. He shook his head in dismay and approached the next man.

Of the five fallen Whiteguard, besides their Captain, two were already dead, two were not badly wounded and would recover, and the final man just stared at the boy in confusion before his eyes glazed in death. Kipril shook his head at the boy's dismay, "it is ever their choice lad, as it was yours. Some are just not meant for this Service. Farewell!" He and the captain vanished aback the Pegassi, unseen by any of the mortal men about them.

Brin stood and surveyed the carnage. Nine of the Blackguard lay dead or dying, three had surrendered, and the four remaining conscripts from the tourist's camp were overjoyed at their sudden rescue. Tyne and his surviving crony were among those who had thrown down their swords. The former Second and now Captain of the Whiteguard approached the strange youth, "what can you tell us of this bizarre day, lad?"

The boy shook his head, "not much, I fear. You spared this village much heartache, and now perhaps you can also give them hope for their souls. They know little of the Master, but perhaps will listen to their saviors this day. This once was my home, but no longer. Neither will they listen to such as I. I would have a word with your prisoners if I may?"

The stunned soldier nodded, "with what I have seen, I think I dare deny you nothing! But we will speak with these folk of yours and see what comes of it. Such service is our duty and our honor." Brin bowed deeply to the amazed captain, and then approached the terrified and glowering prisoners.

"Brin," snarled Tyne, as the boy approached, "come to mock me?"

Brin shook his head, "simply to ask that you listen to what your captors have to say."

Tyne smiled viciously, "will they spare my life?"

Brin shrugged, "that I cannot say, but if you truly believe, it will spare your soul!"

Tyne growled, "I want nothing to do with you or your wretched master."

Brin shook his head sadly, "the choice is ever yours." The other two soldiers said nothing but hope shone in their eyes; they too were young and not so stubborn as their vociferous companion. Brin said quietly as he turned to go, "listen well!" The only reply was Tyne's mocking laugh.

The villagers had by now recovered their senses and were helping the Whiteguard see to the dead and the wounded. Brin quietly approached the Mayor, who shied back in terror at his approach, "Sir, would you see to my mother's remains as well?"

The man gaped at the boy, "who or what are you?"

Brin smiled, "the merest servant of the Master." He bowed deeply and was suddenly lost to mortal gaze. The Mayor shook his head in wonder but called to one of the village boys and told him to go check the little house on the edge of town. Brin smiled, unseen by his late folk, and then dashed off faster than bird could fly, upon his next adventure.

Erian stopped so suddenly he nearly unseated Clara. They both stared in amazement when the uncanny boy appeared unexpectedly before them. Clara slid from the horse's back and dashed to Brin, giving him a joyous hug. Erian trotted over cautiously, but not without eagerness. Brin briefly recounted what happened in the village and the mortal pair exchanged an astonished look, even though he had left out the more bizarre details.

"And where shall we poor refugees flee next?" came Clara's teasing reply.

Brin grinned eagerly, "why the Ruins of Ambrosia, my dear Lady!"

She gasped in excitement and Erian laid his ears back in alarm, "why on earth would you want to go there?"

Brin said firmly, "because we must."

Erian shook his head, "so be it, but there is nothing there for wretched mortals like us." Brin smiled enigmatically but said nothing. Erian's ears and enthusiasm both roused at the mystery in the boy's manner, "we shall see indeed, come!" He gazed in irritation at the unmoving pair, "we will not get there if the two of you walk, now mount up!" They exchanged a smile and were soon aback the wondrous horse and off to their next adventure.

"Will you not tell us more?" begged Clara of Brin, "Of my brother and your own curious habits?"

Brin shook his head, "I cannot, Lady. Certain things you can only learn in due time. You must be content with what has been revealed thus far."

Erian blew out his nostrils in frustration, "there has been little enough of that, my friend! Less worthy folk would have long ago abandoned you as a madman!"

Brin patted the great beast's neck in reassurance, "well, I am glad to have so great-hearted a friend indeed!"

Clara smiled playfully, "perhaps I only keep company with you to ferret out your secrets!"

"Weasel away dear Lady, but little more will you discover unless it be our Master's will to reveal it."

She shook her head in exasperation, "you enjoy reveling in the mystery far too much I think." Erian whinnied his agreement. Brin just smiled in amusement; they did have a point. They were not far from the fabled ruins, for they lay in the forgotten wilds of the world, near which Greenvale perched as the last outpost of civilization.

Erian looked about them in dismay and murmured, "well, here we are."

"Where?" asked Clara, "Here is nothing." Brin smiled, seeing what their eyes could not.

"Good day," came the greeting from a strange masculine voice. Clara turned curious eyes upon the speaker, only to blush and avert her gaze. Brin looked the man over and decided he was the most handsome man he had ever seen; had he been mortal, he might well have been jealous. Erian just acted the dumb beast that he seemed. "My dear Lady!" gasped the dashing youth, "Forgive me for discomfiting you! May I be of assistance?"

Clara's heart pounded in her throat as she breathlessly said, "I do not know, but perhaps you may aid me indeed. You see, I am a Princess in dire need of your help!"

The stunning young man bowed deeply, "I am at your service, Highness."

Clara took the proffered hand and allowed the young man to help her from Erian's back. He escorted her a polite distance, helped her to seat herself upon a stone, and then they began to speak fervently together.

Erian turned his great head to look at the boy upon his back, "I am afraid you have lost your filly."

Brin smiled wistfully, "she was never mine to keep. What of you?"

Erian frowned, "what do you mean?"

Brin smiled mischievously, "does this place mean nothing to you?"

The horse snorted, "it was your forefathers who built this ruined monument to their folly, what is it to me?"

Brin said quietly, "all rebels would do well to remember the price of such pride."

Erian nodded, "in that you speak truly. What can this place hold for me besides such a reminder?"

Brin smiled eagerly, "Life, if you will seek it."

The horse snorted, "there is nothing here but rocks and dust." Bayard suddenly appeared aback his Pegassi. Both boys slid from their saddles. Erian laid his ears back and began to back away in terror from the new arrivals.

The Pegassi scolded his fallen kinsman, "do you still fear that for which our race was made?"

Erian stayed his retreat but hung his head in shame, "nay, my pride has cost me dear. Only disgrace and grief remain to me now."

The Pegassi whinnied eagerly, "then embrace our Master's grace and let your sorrow be removed from you evermore!"

Erian raised his head in amazement, "can such be true?"

"Look!" said the other.

And look he did and finally he Saw. The ruins of a great castle towered over him and the River fretted about its feet. "May I?" came the breathless reply.

The Pegassi laughed in his horsy voice, "that is why we are here, is it not?"

With all joy, the wretched mortal horse plunged himself into the rushing current and surfaced a renewed creature. He pranced up to Brin, who still looked a rather grubby peasant, and spread his great wings and reared in joy. The boy smiled and said, "well met, my dear Pegassi! Now, perhaps we can have a proper adventure together?"

Erian laughed, "that would be fine by me. At last, I understand!"

The Princess and her consort had been lost deep in discussion and had noticed nothing of the joyous happenings about them. The young knight grasped at his sword hilt when he noticed the strange boy approaching with the Princess' servant. Clara gasped, "Bayard! You will accompany us?"

The Messenger smiled joyously and bowed deeply to his sister, "if you wish it, my Lady."

She nodded regally, "I desire nothing else."

The young man, Aden by name, said quietly to Clara, "who are these boys, my Lady?"

Clara smiled, "men to whom I owe my life, many times over. One is my brother, the other is my dearest friend."

Aden said in some dismay, "I see."

Brin smiled, catching the boy's disappointment, "and only ever a friend, my fine Sir."

The youth brightened slightly, "perhaps this adventure will end better than any of us can hope?"

Bayard shook his head, "it will be dangerous."

Aden said patronizingly, "could so valiant a Lady have so meek a brother?"

Bayard smiled grimly, "I speak only for your own consideration, Sir. For none should face this quest unawares. I have already proven myself in my sister's service and spilled my blood on her behalf."

Aden bowed contritely, "forgive me, Sire. I spoke without knowledge. Perhaps you will tell the tale as we travel?" Brin and Bayard shared a knowing smile, that would be a tale indeed! Aden eyed Brin curiously, "are you too of some noble lineage, despite your common appearance?"

The boy laughed, "nay sir, I am descended from the poorest of the poor, yet my blood too has been shed in the Lady's service." Clara could barely stifle a sob at this reminder of what they had sacrificed on her behalf. Bayard placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and she smiled gratefully at this reminder that she was not accountable for their blood neither did they count their sacrifice vain.

Aden said a little uncomfortably, trying to change the subject, "so we are going to try and gain the Princess a throne?"

Bayard shook his head, "we are going to confront my father and pray that he has had a great change of heart. We managed to rescue Clara from his vile schemes yet our people still languish under his brutal rule. Clara may perhaps sit on the throne one day, but that is not our ultimate goal."

The youth cocked his head in question, "what then is the purpose of our quest?"

Brin smiled eagerly, "to bring the Master's peace and joy to this aggrieved people, and perhaps even to change the heart of the King!"

Aden's boisterous laugh surprised his three companions and for a moment they were silent with shock. Bayard frowned, "what is so amusing, Sir Knight?"

Aden said with barely contained mirth, "the thought that such valiant heroes cling to old myths and nursery tales! True warriors need no such nonsense. We live by a strict code of right and wrong, what is noble and what is not. We need no fairy tales to guide our lives."

"From whence does this code of ethics then come?" asked Brin, "Men certainly cannot agree on what is right and wrong; we are far too fickle and self-serving!"

Aden shook his head, "a true Knight is not such as you have described; we are quite capable of governing ourselves."

Bayard said grimly, "my father thought what he was doing was right and therefore we must be seen as criminals and traitors in his eyes."

Aden was silent in thought for a moment before he replied, "I had not thought of that. Come, we can at least ride as I think upon this matter." The others nodded their agreement and were soon in their saddles and upon their way.

Aden trailed behind the others, deep in thought, giving them a chance to speak amongst themselves. Clara glanced back at the Knight with a dreamy smile upon her face every few moments. The Messengers exchanged a worried look, fearing Clara was falling for this self-proclaimed heretic. Bayard broke the silence and interrupted his sister's daydreams, "Clara, what are you thinking?"

She smiled wistfully, "he is quite handsome."

Bayard shook his head, "and?"

She frowned, "and what?"

Bayard said sternly, "he is no servant of the Master!"

She replied hopefully, "hearts can change!"

Bayard shook his head, "perhaps, but you cannot pursue such a man in hopes he will change. He is more likely to change you."

Clara sighed heavily, "you are right, but this is not what I wanted to hear."

Brin smiled encouragingly at her, "fear not, there is a plan and a purpose in all of this. You have not lost anything by trusting our Master before, in fact your own life has been spared and you will never lose us, though death tried to sunder us."

She brightened at this and then blushed at her girlish affectations. She said quietly, "you are quite right. Having come through all that I have, you would think I would have grown beyond such girlish infatuations. At least I have such wonderful friends to set me straight when I am too charmed to think for myself." She smiled gratefully at both of them, causing them to blush in their turn, which caused them all to laugh.

This sudden outburst of mirth finally drew the attention of Aden, who urged his horse forward that he might join his compatriots, asking, "what have I missed?"

Clara smiled deeply, "just a private joke among old friends. What have you been thinking so long and hard upon Sir Knight?"

He sighed, "I am having reservations about going on this quest. It should be quite straightforward in that we are challenging a vicious tyrant for the throne, yet there is no simple answer. How can I challenge a sitting King who was only doing what he thought was right and his children rebelled against him? Is it not wrong to disobey your parents? To rebel against the King?"

Bayard nodded, "now you see why men cannot make their own moral code. We can make laws, but there are Laws greater than our conventions and rules. Love and Justice are written into the very fabric of reality. Defying my father breaks the laws of men, but I could not obey a man who violated the greater Law of the Master. I must rather obey my Master than men. We are traitors according to the laws of my country, yet we did what Justice and Love demanded and thereby kept the Master's Laws though we broke the laws of men. Would you obey an unjust law?"

Aden shook his head, "how can any law be unjust? If it were, it could not be a law!"

Bayard nodded, "that is my point. When someone demands you do something wrong and says you must because it is a law, are you wrong in defying them? This is why we need a higher source for our Laws, Morals, and Ethics, for the laws and desires of men will only conflict with one another, whereas the Master's ways are perfect, above reproach or argument, and the best possible way for us to live."

Aden frowned, "I see your point, but I still cannot admit that there can be anything higher than the laws of men. And in defying your father, you have all become traitors! And my own code of ethics will not let me aid those who willingly involve themselves in treachery. Princess, will you accompany me to your father that we might straighten this matter out? I fear these two have had a negative influence upon you, but perhaps there is still hope if you will come with me."

Brin and Erian interposed themselves between Aden and Clara, who rode with her brother. Brin said grimly, "we will accompany her and see that justice is achieved for all involved. You may come if you wish, but she will not be going off alone in your company."

Aden looked pleadingly at the girl, who cast down her eyes in disappointment and shook her head in resignation. His face hardened and he said to Brin with gritted teeth, "you have corrupted this poor girl and I would be amiss not to do something about it. I hereby challenge you to a duel for this Lady's honor and my own!"

Brin gaped, "you cannot be serious!" Aden looked nothing but serious. Brin said quietly, "this will not avail either of us."

Aden shook his head, "I will not be gainsaid. You will do the honorable thing and relinquish the girl to my care or you will force my hand."

Bayard chimed in, "is not kidnapping a crime?"

Aden said roughly, "not when I am rescuing her from such lawless men."

Brin shook his head, "that is what we are trying to do with her father!"

Aden's frown deepened, "the King is the source of the Law and therefore he cannot be lawless! You are traitors!"

Brin slid from his saddle and unsheathed his sword, saying, "this is utterly ridiculous but I will humor you until you learn that this will get us nowhere."

Aden dismounted and faced off with his foe, "at least you have a little honor it seems."

Clara gave a horrified look to Bayard, who only smiled slightly and shook his head; there was little either combatant could do to hurt the other. Brin knew his sword was useless against a mortal foe, but only indulged the fool in hopes he would learn the futility of addressing his confusion in this manner. The Knight was a superb swordsman and Brin was no match for such skill, though he seemed to possess an innate ability with the hitherto unknown weapon. Clara gasped in horror as Brin dropped senseless with a mortal stroke as Aden examined his sword in wonder, there was not a drop of blood upon it! He stared at his prone adversary and frowned as the boy stirred and then sat up with a roguish grin on his face.

"That is not how one rids the world of such pests," came a disdainful voice, "this is how it is done." Brin reached for his sword upon hearing the familiar and dreaded voice, but it was too late. Tyne's sword struck Brin's vulnerable neck and he vanished in a flash of light.

Aden stared in awe, "what was he? He should have been dead, but neither did he bleed!"

Tyne stared menacingly at Clara and Bayard, as he answered, "he is already dead. I killed the meddlesome fool months ago, as I did the girl's treacherous brother. Yet still they interfere in the affairs of mortals. That is why I am here, to aid you in your quest against such ignoble foes."

Aden gasped, "ghosts? Zombies? Demons?"

Bayard snorted in amusement, "you will not believe in the Master yet you will believe in such apparitions?"

Aden shook his head, "the proof is before me."

Tyne nodded, "such ghosts are not worthy of your consideration."

Bayard challenged, "you are one to speak Tyne. You no longer number among the living yourself. What vile rites did you undergo to gain such power? At least our blood was shed in service to something greater than ourselves, not in a self-serving grasp for power!" Clara shivered and drew closer to her brother, afraid of her former kidnapper and whatever vile creature he had willingly become.

Tyne laughed derisively, "you died a traitor's death, fool! I willingly offered myself to the power that rules this vile earth. You left me a prisoner, but my master did not forget me. They came for me in the dead of night and bore me to a place unspeakable. There I became something greater than a pitiful, mortal man!"

"You have forever condemned your soul Tyne!" said Bayard in horror, "No matter what transient benefit you reap in the interim."

Tyne simply laughed him to scorn and then turned his attention to the flummoxed young Knight, "now what of you?"

Aden paled, "what do you mean?"

Tyne said, "you must decide what to do with yourself."

Bayard cautioned, "you need not listen to him!"

Tyne snarled, "quiet you! He must decide for himself."

Clara whispered to her brother, "can you not help him?"

Bayard shook his head, "only if Tyne openly threatens him or tries to force him against his will. If he willingly tolerates the Spy's presence, so too must we."

Tyne addressed Aden once more, "would you aid this confused girl and her betrayed father or would you sit here and chat with this treacherous ghost to no end?"

Aden asked, "you would see that justice is done for the betrayed King and perhaps even rescue the Lady from her wretched brother's influence?"

Tyne nodded, "that is exactly my aim."

Aden turned pleadingly to Clara, "will you not come with us Lady? Free yourself from the clutches of your vile brother."

Clara wept openly, "can you not see that he is evil? He it was that slew my unarmed friend and took me captive. He that murdered the Crown Prince when he came to the aid of his imperiled sister. Can you truly listen to such a creature?"

Aden shook his head resignedly, "you were the traitor first in defying your father. All else that followed was the result of your own treachery. You will not come?"

She shook her head vehemently and Bayard reined his Pegassi away from Tyne. "Give me the girl," snarled the Spy.

Bayard grinned, "you will have to catch us first." Tyne snarled in frustration as the Pegassi reared and vanished with his passengers.

Aden gaped, "where have they gone?"

Tyne snarled, "to interfere once more in her father's affairs, no doubt. We had best make our way thither and hope we do not arrive too late." Aden nodded, mounted his horse, and followed swiftly after his new companion in hopes of doing some heroic deed ere all was ended. His mind swirled in confusion, trying to comprehend all that had just come to pass.

Brin appeared suddenly in the River, flailing in surprise, but realizing where he was, he relaxed and was immediately borne to the bank, where Erian was already waiting for him. The Pegassi snorted, "this is no time for a swim."

Brin smiled as he climbed aback the great creature, "then why are you just standing here when we have things to be about?" The Pegassi gave him a patient look but was not long in vanishing from sight. They reappeared in a great hall of an ornate castle.

Brin dismounted and asked of his companion, "will you not draw questions?"

Erian snorted, "they will not see me, my fine servant."

Brin frowned, then looked down at himself and smiled to discover himself in a servant's livery. Said he, "this shall be interesting." Brin made his way deeper into the hall to find that he was in the throne room, alone save the disconsolate figure upon the throne. The boy boldly approached the dispirited King, who noticed nothing but his own despair. The boy said quietly to the King, "can I be of help, Majesty?"

The man flinched in surprise and glared at the impertinent servant, "I ordered that I not be disturbed!"

The boy smiled impishly, "but that is not what you need right now, Sire."

The man stared in disbelief, "do you want to lose your head? What would you know about any of this anyway?"

The boy said quietly, "you are in great distress Sire and need someone to listen. I will gladly be of assistance if that is your desire?"

The old man snorted at the boldness of the boy and said, "perhaps, perhaps." He then began to tell of his broken dreams, his shattered aspirations, and his desolate house. His beloved wife had died some years ago, leaving two wonderful children, but alas they too had been lost to him and now he was left alone with nothing but his own guilt and grief. He had once been content and a good King, but had listened to the advice of a vile man and fallen prey to the enticements of pride and it had cost him everything he truly loved. He stared with haunted eyes at the boy before him, "I was a fool lad, a fool! And now I am lost, forever lost!"

The boy shook his head adamantly, "nay Sire, for there is One who can forgive your past and give you a hope for tomorrow and ever after."

The King was curious and listened as the boy told again all the old tales of the Master and His love for wandering humanity. His wife's devotion to that Great Lord had been passed on to his lost children, but in his growing pride, he had scoffed at such tales and turned his attention elsewhere. The thought that they would not be lost to him forever gave hope to his despairing heart and brought eager tears to his eyes. He smiled gently at this bold child, saying, "I forsook Him yet He will never forsake me! Ah, I have truly been a fool, but not fool enough to remain so forever. Thank you lad!"

But the boy was gone. The King frowned in consternation but a small ruckus at the other end of the hall drew his attention. He gaped in astonishment and then fainted dead away at the vision before him. Clara rushed to her father's prone form while Bayard and Brin approached more slowly, speaking quietly together. The King roused at his daughter's touch and looked up in disbelief into gentle eyes he thought never to see again. He smiled, "is this too a dream?"

She smiled gently, "nay Sire, it is very real."

He sat up slowly and gasped upon sighting Bayard, "this cannot be true?"

The boy said quietly, "no Sire, we are very much here; this is no dream."

Clara helped him to his feet, but he went to his knees, weeping, "can you ever forgive me? I was an utter fool, and lost everything I loved because of it!" His children knelt beside him, embraced him, and he knew that he was forgiven and still loved. Brin watched wistfully, wondering what might have been if his own father had been so repentant.

Erian stood beside him and nudged him affectionately with his great nose, "we whose trust is in the Master are never truly alone."

He stroked the velvety muzzle and smiled warmly, "thank you, my friend."

The reunited family finally found their feet and had dried their tears. The King suddenly noticed the bold servant, who had encouraged him so much, and called the boy over. Then he frowned, thinking he recognized the boy, but it could not be. Then his frown deepened as he remembered what had come of his son. He gasped, "can it truly be? I remember you now boy and you should be dead, as should my son."

Bayard nodded, "we are truly here father, but no longer can we dwell among mortal men, save upon those errands our Master sets us."

He glanced at Clara and she laughed, "it is all quite strange, Sire, but you grow used to it with time. They have been quite a help to me in all my wanderings of late. Do not fear, I at least have come home to stay." He smiled at this, shook his head in wonder at the two Messengers, and then led them to a place where they might talk about their adventures and the future of the Kingdom.

They had not long to conspire before a servant entered the silent hall to announce a very remarkable visitor. The King glanced up in surprise, having forgotten that a bevy of servants waited nervously while he stewed in his own misery. The servant was quite astonished to find the man not alone, and even more amazed to see the lost children of the King restored to their father. The broad smile on his Majesty's face was joy itself to the timid servant.

"What news, man?" came the King's anxious question, only something vital would send the man into the throne room against all orders to the contrary.

The newly heartened servant said, "Majesty, there is a young man who wishes an audience, he claims to have seen your sundered children and wishes to restore justice to the Kingdom."

The King glanced at his companions and Bayard said knowingly, "we came across a young Knight who wishes to make a name for himself yet cannot decide what true justice is Sire, when we parted he was in the company of a fiend most vile."

The King looked grimly at the servant, "admit this curious visitor."

Aden soon followed the servant into the King's presence and was not surprised to see his former companions already present. He bowed gracefully and said without preamble, "Highness, your children are traitors and I offer you my aid in seeing that justice is had by all."

The King looked sadly upon this confused youth and replied, "nay, it was I that was out of my mind with pride. I dared terrible things and denied justice to all but myself. My dear children merely clung to what they knew to be right and good and true when I demanded things of them that no man should ask of another, let alone father of child. I thought I had lost everything in my arrogance, but it is restored to me tenfold, most importantly I have found peace and humility."

The boy was agape, "you would let your own children deceive you Sire?"

"Nay," said the King with a voice old as the hills, "it was I that deceived myself and they that suffered for it."

The young man drew himself up in surprise, "it saddens me to see Sire, that such a wise monarch should fall to the tales of these disobedient scoundrels. I had come with your best interests at heart yet it seems that you would dwell contently in the valley of Deception. So be it Highness, I shall simply have to find my own country where rationality is the order of the day." He was silent a moment and then an ironic smile grew on his face, "I shall go back to the ruins of that great legend, Ambrosia. There we shall see if man's destiny lies with reason or with fairy tales!" He bowed himself out and left the four to exchange a curious look.

The King said, "I did not understand any of that."

Brin said thoughtfully, "he set out from home to discover his destiny, as so many adventurous boys dream. Yet he did not have a foundation in the Truth thus he was blown about on any vagrant wind. He thought he had discovered a quest but found the details not to his liking and abandoned it for the better sounding promises of a vile servant of the Enemy. Being thwarted again by your change of heart, Sire, he now seeks a means to redeem himself. I fear he feels cheated by legend so he shall see if legend may in turn avail him. He means to rebuild the greatest monument to man's folly ever erected."

The King gaped, "but there is nothing with which to rebuild that lost ruin! It will cost a fortune and take the rest of his mortal life."

Bayard shook his head, "as Brin said, it is a monument to folly! But that will not stop him from trying."

They shared several merry days together, saw that the King and Clara were well settled with great plans for the future, and then Brin and Bayard knew the time had come for their departure. The Kingdom sighed in relief to have peace and justice restored to the land and hope restored to the King. The boys mounted their eager Pegassi as the King and his daughter gathered in the courtyard to bid them a teary farewell. Bayard grinned gaily at his distraught father and sister saying, "fear not dear ones! We are not long sundered, but I cannot remain here when we each have our own tasks to be about."

She smiled sadly at Brin, "off to have adventures without me it seems."

He laughed, "Lady, you will have adventure enough rebuilding this Kingdom and finding a husband equal to the task of being King."

She laughed through her tears, "I suppose I shall have the greater adventure after all!"

The King smiled deeply and said to them both, "I cannot thank you enough! Do not be long a stranger, either of you! Farewell!" The Messengers waved once more and suddenly vanished in a flutter of brilliant wings.

They joined Kipril on the bank of the River and shared a curious smile at all the activity going on in the once desolate spot. The men could not see the Messengers or the Pegassi, any more than they could see the ancient ruins and the rushing River. Brin gasped, "the Tourist!"

Kipril nodded, "your young friend is quite determined to rebuild this legend and he fell in with just the man willing to finance the entire operation."

Bayard shook his head, "this is madness! It will cost a fortune to build anything out here! There isn't even a farm for miles, only raw timber and uncut stone."

Brin grinned, "the more futile the better, at least as far as our venerable tourist is concerned. The crazier the idea, the more willing he is to finance it. But what will Aden gain by rebuilding this monstrosity?"

Kipril shook his head gravely, "the same thing our ancestors hoped for: glory for themselves rather than seeking that of our Master."

Bayard shook his head, "pride can end in only one way!"

Brin frowned, "will the Master even allow it?"

Kipril said grimly, "legend holds that anyone building anything in this spot is risking grave danger, for it was forbidden long ago and the embargo has never been lifted."

Brin asked, "can they not be warned?"

Kipril shook his head, "I tried when first they came. They only laughed at me and called me jealous!"

Bayard nodded grimly, "that is not surprising. Now what?" They all exchanged a sudden smile and knew exactly what errands they were to be about. They mounted their Pegassi and vanished from that now busy hillside, about their Master's business.

Twenty years passed quite quickly for the Messengers and nearly did they forget the project, except when an enemy's blade struck true and sent them headlong into the River from whence they must start anew, but also giving them a chance to see the progress of the great project. They were quite astonished to find themselves one day upon that same hillside, admiring the nearly completed monument, forgetting that to mortals, Time flowed differently than it did for the Messengers.

Kipril whistled, "nothing like the original, but quite impressive!"

Bayard shook his head in amusement and wonder, "of course they cannot see the original, but by modern standards it is quite magnificent. I wonder if man lost so much knowledge and skill at the Fall or if it simply atrophied over time?"

"Can I help you gentlemen?" came an aged though vaguely familiar voice. Brin grinned, it was the Tourist, albeit quite a bit older but still vibrant! He frowned at the trio and then recognition dawned, at least for the two younger. "Wonderful to see you chaps alive still, that was quite a horrid adventure I am sure," said he in astonishment, "whatever happened to that lovely beast, I wonder?"

Brin shrugged and said, "we are grateful to be alive my friend and that is all I can say."

"I suppose," shrugged the aged man, who then brightened, "what think you of our lovely little project? Come, I will show you about."

The trio obediently followed the man over the bridge spanning the chasm in which the unseen River flowed, pointing out all the architectural wonders about them. Bayard asked, "did you not have a partner in all of this?"

The man shook his head grimly, "terrible that. There are rumors going around that the whole project is cursed! Really! Who believes in curses any more? But yes, there has been an uncanny streak of bad luck, including the death of my young partner whose vision inspired the whole thing. We push on however, in defiance of fate as it were."

Brin asked, "what came of the young man?"

The tourist shook his head, "he fell over this very bridge into the chasm below. Quite an unfortunate accident. We have had a number of such accidents and setbacks. One would think some Will resisted our own in rebuilding this great tribute to human glory!"

Kipril queried, "how close are you to finishing?"

The tourist smiled proudly, "another fortnight will finish the project if all goes well." The three Messengers exchanged an intrigued look and wondered what would come of the matter in the days ahead.

The project was very close to completion and the Messengers found themselves hanging about the place, as if they had some part to play in the drama yet to unfold. Two days before finishing, an argument arose amongst the workers, half were terrified of the legends that warned against building anything in this place and the others who simply wanted the promised bonus if they finished on time. It nearly came to blows before the Tourist was able to talk his enraged minions into sensibility. He allowed the nervous workers to bow out early while promising a greater bonus to those that remained, this convinced several of the superstitious lot to suddenly change their minds while their compatriots slunk off, muttering darkly of evils yet to come. They returned to their work with even greater zeal, in anticipation of the promised bonus.

The Tourist was quite pleased with himself, at least until a company of the Blackguard rode up and challenged his ownership of the place. He turned deathly pale and shrunk back from his pride and joy. The captain and his eleven men laughed at his terror, thinking they had won an easy victory. "They will take my treasure from me again!" sobbed the old man as Brin drew him aside.

The boy shook his head, "let them have the castle, but look to your own soul ere it is too late. That is the greatest treasure of all." The old man gaped at the boy but allowed himself to be led away from the project and listened intently as Brin told of the Greatest Gift of All.

Bayard and Kipril sat their mounts upon the bridge over the great chasm, challenging the Blackguard, "it is folly to come further. It was folly to build this monument, but it is worse to come and steal it away! Go, ere you rue it forever!"

"Hah!" spat the captain, "We will take it nonetheless! Out of the way ere we are forced to cut our way through you."

Bayard shook his head, "at least let the laborers go free."

The captain scoffed, "let them be gone then, I have no interest in peasant scum. Off with all of you, loiterers will be dealt with lethally!"

The pair turned their mounts and galloped into the courtyard, proclaiming, "for your lives men, run!"

Tools were suddenly dropped and all and sundry dashed from the castle, knowing their very lives depended upon it. The Blackguard laughed as they fled. The Messengers were the last to leave, certain that no one remained within. The captain waited for the fools to pass and then motioned for his own men to enter the towering citadel, but suddenly the bridge began to shake, as if in an earthquake, and the entire structure plunged into the chasm beneath, bearing with it the two Messengers and the entire Blackguard. Brin watched from the far side with the Tourist and his workmen in stunned horror.

"Cursed indeed!" said the Tourist in awe, turning back to the boy, he said, "Pray, continue your story." The entire company listened attentively as the boy continued, horrified by what they had just witnessed.

The two Messengers and their Pegassi were plunged into the River, from which they emerged unscathed but unseen by mortal eye. The company of soldiers lay buried in the rubble of the bridge at the bottom of the chasm. The castle stood boldly alone on its reclaimed hill. Suddenly a raven lit upon the flagstaff upon the highest tower and the whole edifice seemed to collapse under its weight; the bird took wing, squawking in indignation while twenty years of work crumbled into dust. The carrion eater landed before the astonished workmen, suddenly taking on the form of a man.

"Tyne!" said Brin in wonder.

The Spy smiled superciliously, "yes?" The other two Messengers suddenly appeared between the Spy and his mortal audience, making Tyne to smirk all the more. Mocked he, "quite the vain monument I see! What shoddy workmanship!"

Kipril shook his head, "it was as well built as any work of men's hands. It has been forbidden to build such monuments here since the founding of the world! It is no surprise that it was not allowed to stand."

Bayard smiled in amusement, "so much for claiming it as your own!"

The Tourist frowned, "why all the prohibitions and fuss about this particular hill?"

Kipril said, "here it was that the River of Life flowed strong and deep, but it is now lost to mortal men for our rebellion against our Master."

Tyne sneered, "fear not, my master will find a way to restore it so that he might reap its power!"

Brin shook his head, "it does not need to be restored; it flows ever true! But to many, it cannot be touched, seen, nor heard."

Even as he spoke, the River's voice increased to a great roar, as of the sea in storm; it suddenly became a river in flood and its banks vanished beneath its increasing breadth, as if it meant to consume the entire world. For so it did. Tyne stepped back in horror, for he saw not a flood but a great abyss opening before him, set to consume all reality. The Tourist and his men saw either the River or the Abyss, depending where each man's heart lay, whether he served the Master or himself. Those that had heard Brin's words and accepted them with a grateful heart looked in wonder upon the River while the others shared Tyne's horror as the Abyss widened before them. All this passed in a matter of moments and none had time to react. The River or the Abyss suddenly spread over the whole face of the earth and all that day suddenly found themselves awash in Light and Life itself or plunged forever into impenetrable Night. When the water receded and the Abyss vanished from memory, the world was utterly changed, so wondrous I have not words to describe it, and ever did their Master dwell among them.

### Other Books by this Author:

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I and II

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book III

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book IV and V

### Once a Thief

### A Song of Lesser Days

### Thus It Began

### Legends of the Brethren: The Sampler

### Legends of the Brethren: The Complete Series

### In Shadow

### Of Tea... and Things

### The Greylands

### The Foibles

###  Over the Hills and Far Away

### Want to Know More?:

### Official Website

### Author's Blog

Sample Chapters of 'Shadow of the Unicorn,' the first in the 'In Shadow,' series:

### 1

Jace stood upon the battlements, staring, though unseeing, out upon the bleak grey landscape of the failing year ere snow covered and softened the weary land for its winter repose. Leaden clouds lowered ominously on the horizon while a mournful wind moaned pitiably in the half completed towers of the grotesque fortress; the river passed sullenly by without comment, preoccupied with its looming icy imprisonment. Though only partially complete, the grim fortress was already falling to ruin, as were the souls who lingered therein. The place was hardly cheerful, even upon a bright morning of spring, and was at its most dismal ere the first snows of winter, but it was not the weather that brought the boy out to pace the battlements upon such a dreary day, rather he had much to contemplate and none of it good. His patched cloak flapped wildly in the wind but he little noticed, for his thoughts were just as unruly. His grandfather, a nobleman displaced by war, had laid the foundations of this ruin and his father had further built up the fortress after its founder's untimely death, but the family fortune had run out long before the project was finished, so it moldered in half-completed splendor while its occupants dwelt ever in the shadow of poverty and isolation, and now it seemed, madness as well.

Jace's father was but a boy when war forced the family to flee with what they could salvage of their wealth. The patriarch was determined to start anew in a strange land, much to the dismay of the locals, but they were a rather peaceful folk and he began his project without asking their permission, and as they were notorious for their willingness to forgive, the project continued despite their misgivings. But tragedy struck the third winter the family spent in their new home, for both of Jace's grandparents died of pneumonia within a fortnight of one another, leaving their son, still very much a boy, alone in the grim fortress with only a few faithful servants and guards that had accompanied the family in its flight, for they trusted no one in this strange land, least of all those of common descent. But the boy was not crushed by his loss, but rather was as determined, perhaps more so, than his father to finish the project and become a veritable lord in this strange land, the protests of the original inhabitants aside.

Construction continued slowly as the boy grew to manhood and the family fortune dwindled, but surely the son of a nobleman might make a proper match and thereby reinvigorate his fortune as well as perpetuate his line. So it was that Jace's father went a-courting and soon came home with his beautiful and captivating bride, the very picture of a wealthy lady, but only a picture, for though of noble blood, her family was as destitute as that of her new husband, though neither had thought to broach the subject before their marriage, assuming the other was indeed as rich as they portrayed themselves to be. The truth came out very soon after Jace was born; the ensuing fight was the stuff of legend, at least if you believe the tales told in after years by the aging servants, but in the end, the lady fled, leaving her infant son and husband to fend for themselves. The man looked coldly upon the boy, who was so like his mother in form and feature that he could not help but despise him. He turned his back on the child, stared stonily at the open door out which his wife had fled, and then withdrew to his own chambers. Had one of the few remaining servants not taken pity upon the poor creature, he likely would not have survived infancy.

The man seemed indifferent to the fate of his son, pretending that he did not even exist and focusing all his time, thought, and energy on his project instead, but there was no money to pay workmen or buy stone and timber, so the man had to do everything himself. Only two servants remained of the few that had fled with the family, lingering on out of faithfulness and because they had nowhere else to go, for their lord had long since ceased to pay them. The old housekeeper did the cooking, looked after the domestic side of things, and was the only mother the boy ever knew. The other was an aging guardsman who had taken on the duties of butler, valet, and jack-of-all-trades; it was he that taught the boy what little he knew of reading and more importantly, to his mind at least, the sword. The rest of the lad's education was left to what he could glean from the few books that lay forgotten around the fortress and what the housekeeper could impart in the form of old stories as she wandered about the keep seeing to her myriad duties.

As the boy neared manhood, at last his father took a modicum of interest in him, but whether it was due to some newly realized desire for kith and kin in his fading years or because his rheumatism forced him to abandon his fortress building activities, none knew. But one day the master of the ruin summoned the lad into his chambers, where he sat in relative splendor in a fraying robe with a moth-eaten velvet chair for a throne. Upon the lad's entrance, the man studied him as he might a horse he had a mind to buy. After several minutes of dreadful silence, the man said at last, "what do they call you boy?"

The lad blinked in surprise that his father did not even know his name, but his servile foster parents had taught him courtesy, if little else, said he with a proper bow, "I am called Jace, sir."

The man nodded as if it were of no matter and continued, "very well boy, they say you are my son, a claim I cannot verify yet neither can I fully deny it. In either case, it is high time you started to earn your keep around here. My father had a vision that this castle would one day tower over the surrounding countryside and herein would his descendants be safe from war, plague, and the like, nevermore to be driven like refugees from that which was rightfully our own. This is all my purpose and destiny and it shall be yours, whether you like it or not. You will take up where I have left off: cutting timber, collecting stone, using it to finish what my father began, well?"

The boy gaped, was this to be all his future? A slave to another man's futile dream?

The man shook his head sadly, "I see you are not a man of vision, like unto mine, a pity, for I think it proves that you are not my son after all. I will give you the afternoon to ponder your future, either submit yourself to my father's dream and fulfill your true purpose in this life or get you gone from here, never to return." The boy gave a perfect bow and vanished from the room, fleeing to the battlements to mull over his future, whatever it might be.

Night was falling and still he had found no sensible reply for the grim man waiting impatiently in his chambers below, prematurely aged by labor, sorrow, and unrestrained ambition. Jace glanced uneasily out upon the darkening world, could he truly find a life out there in the world that had forsaken his family, from whose stock had sprung his faithless mother? Yet he knew he could not remain forever a slave to his grandfather's dream as his father had ever been. What was he to do? Where was he to go? The outside world terrified him, but could he live on for countless years in futile toil? He wanted to scream or weep and came very close to doing both, but his reeling thoughts were interrupted by a stooping ghost that loomed out of the darkness before him.

Came the gruff but concerned voice of the guardsman, "what troubles thee lad? The master sent me to find ye, he is impatient for yer answer."

The boy glanced silently out into the darkness and the man nodded in grave understanding, "aye, it is a hard choice, but no choice at all I think. This cursed place has consumed two generations of yer family lad, don't be a fool and make it three. Whatever horrors lay without, they can be nothing to what lurks herein."

The boy nodded his silent thanks and then went to find his father, knowing the man had spoken truly. He knocked timidly upon the door and entered upon the gruff command to do so. He found his father standing before the hearth, staring into the flames, his hands clasped at his back; he did not turn around or even look at the boy, said he, "a harlot's son, through and through, cannot even stay on to succor an aging wreck of a man in his failing years, the selfish, selfish wretch." Suddenly the man turned, his anger giving him strength and speed that years of hard labor had stolen, he took up an iron poker that lay to hand and his eyes seemed to blaze with the light of the fire at his back, snarled he, hefting the poker aloft, "Out! Out! Get out, you insolent oaf!"

The boy knew the man was in earnest and half out of his mind besides, lingering not a moment longer, he turned and fled the chamber and hied himself that moment from the crumbling keep. The housekeeper and guardsman watched him flee with sad eyes, shook their heads in dismay, but had known for many a year that there could be no other end to the tale, but at least this wretched fortress would not utterly consume the boy as it had his forbears, what the outside world might do to him was another matter entirely.

Jace fled with only the clothes on his back, packing was of little matter as he was currently wearing everything he possessed. His only thought was to escape the broken dreams and empty years that lay behind with no concern for what the morrow might hold, for he knew nothing of purpose, joy, peace, hope, or comfort. His world was as cold and lonely as the fortress he had just fled. A miserable drizzle began to fall not long after his flight, forcing him to seek what shelter he could beneath a clump of spruce trees that seemed to huddle together for comfort amid the cold, wet dark. Every fiber of Jace's being cried out to do the same, but one cannot comfortably cuddle with a conifer so there was nothing left to be done but cry himself to sleep.

A wan shaft of sunlight filtered down through the clouds and pierced the fastness of the boy's retreat, bringing him blinkingly awake. He sighed heavily as he gained his feet, seeing no reason to go on save that he was too anxious and grieved of heart to sit still. So off he went into the dawning, grateful that the rain had stopped and that he could now see whither he fled. Which got him to wondering where exactly he was to go. He knew nothing of the outside world, save for forays with the guardsman into the surrounding forest to collect wood or to hunt. He had never even seen a farmer's cot, let alone a village. He had heard the housekeeper mention a city once, a concept he could not quite comprehend, but he was not sure he wanted to venture thither, for she had spoken of it in hushed tones one night with the guardsman as they sat before the kitchen fire, certain the lad was abed and not hiding in the doorway, listening in horrified fascination as she described the demon-worshippers that dwelt therein and the horrid practices with which they maintained their uncanny powers.

He smiled grimly to himself, pondering what was best to be done, as his feet followed a game trail seemingly of their own accord, so little did he notice or care whither his path led. He could wander out into the wilderness and undoubtedly die of exposure or starvation during the coming winter or he could find this city and see if the housekeeper's awful tales were even half true. It might be death either way, but at least he could discover what a city was ere the end. With this grim acceptance, did he suddenly step out of the surrounding woods and look upon a great swath of cultivated land, dotted with farmhouses and well-tended copses, and in the distance loomed the infamous city. He had inherited a little of his father's ambition, so with a grim smile pasted on his face did he set out in quest of what could only be his doom.

His smile became incongruous as his journey progressed in a rather anticlimactic fashion, for though he had prepared himself for sights grim and terrible, the countryside was rather picturesque and the few folk he observed in passing seemed as sensible and down-to-earth as either the guardsman or the housekeeper. He consoled himself with the thought that of course the commonfolk would be of similar disposition to the menials with which he was acquainted, it was only their fell masters that would be workers of such foul magicks. He hastened his steps to discover this inevitability for himself but was again sorely disappointed. He soon found himself in a veritable flood of humanity headed for the city to conduct the day's business. People at first trickled in from the outlying farms and villages but soon converged upon the main road leading into the city.

Jace gazed about him in wonder, never having imagined there could be so many people upon the face of the earth, let alone upon one certain stretch of road. The houses and shops that began to line the way were also strange to his eyes and he goggled like the yokel he was; some of the more world-weary passersby about him smiled in welcome amusement at the lad's befuddlement, for a moment remembering their own forgotten youth. A veritable city had grown up around the walls of the original settlement and many of Jace's fellow travelers vanished into the labyrinthine streets and alleys upon their own errands, but most continued on through the gates, few even glancing at the guards who stood silent watch at the gates and upon the walls, but the boy froze in fascinated terror. His sudden halt brought a few complaints and jostles from those nearest him, but they shoved around him and continued on their way, some giving him a meaningful glare but most shaking their heads in vast amusement.

So too did those fell warriors eye the boy with smiles that never broke the stony facade of their faces. But as more and more people pushed by the lad and entered the gates unscathed, he drew a deep breath and pressed ever onwards into the heart of a city inhabited by sorcerers and worse, though strangely, none of the folk about him seemed overly concerned about their impending doom. He was drawn inexorably to the center of the city where a great castle towered over everything. For a long time he stood as one transfixed, staring up and up and up at the edifice that soared above him. A rueful smile split his lips, for even had he and his descendants ten generations hence worked ceaselessly, never could they hope to make anything like this of that horrid fortress. And thence lay his doom. At last, he gathered his courage and set forth upon the last leg of his final journey, thinking it quite a heroic effort on his part and not a little disappointed that there was not a bard or poet at hand to record the tale. Most of his erstwhile companions had vanished long ago into the city proper and left the bumpkin to stare as he would. So it was that he came to the castle gates and found himself very much alone with a whole host of those grim faced guards just waiting to make a gory end of him. Where was a poet when you needed one?

He stood awkwardly out of the way, studying those who guarded the gates and those who came and went upon their own errands, not finding anything too sinister in any of it. Again rather disappointed, the lad at last made his own approach, knowing his courage was hanging by a thread. His first attempt at speaking failed dismally with the guard looking at him in perplexity and what might, to Jace's horrified mind, be pity!

But the guard saved him from further embarrassment and possible flight by asking, "what can I do for you lad?" He actually smiled, "you need not be so terrified, you are quite safe within the confines of Astoria."

The boy blinked in utter astonishment, could this fearsome warrior truly be speaking to him, and with kindness? Demon-worshippers indeed! Said he at last, a quaver in his voice, "I am in desperate straits, sir, but well know that there is little hope for one such as I in this cold, indifferent world."

The guard nodded in understanding and said gently, "aye lad, many come hither with just such a tale, but take heart, for we shall do all we can to remedy your plight, whatever it be." Jace looked near to fainting with hunger and astonishment, as the man motioned for a servant standing within the courtyard to take charge of the flummoxed lad and see to his comfort. The servant smiled in amusement, having done the same a thousand times before, and easily guided the gaping boy into the castle proper, leaving the guard to speak with the next person awaiting his attention.

At last Jace collected his wits enough to comprehend what the servant was saying, "the morning meal has just finished, but I can bring you something once you are settled." He studied the lad's ragged attire that was more patches than original cloth and smiled wryly, "and I'll see to your wardrobe as well. Have you come to study then?"

Jace froze and studied the man as if he had asked if his father were a toad, said he in astonishment, "study? You must know I could little afford such a luxury!"

The servant grinned, "I suppose it is priceless at that, but come lad, anyone is free to study in Astoria and all the Lady asks is that you abide by her rules whilst you reside in the city."

The boy gaped anew, but a smile danced in his eyes, said he with an incredulous grin, "then I will certainly take you up on that offer, sir." The servant nodded as if it were simple sense and they continued on their way.

He stopped before a door at the end of a long corridor and said, "you can sleep here for now, this room is currently unoccupied but if you stay very long, you will undoubtedly find yourself with roommates rather soon. I'll see about finding you something to eat and some appropriate attire." He smiled broadly as he turned to go, "welcome to Astoria!"

The boy stared wistfully after the retreating form for a moment and then curiously opened the door and entered the room. Glancing about at the small but comfortable chamber, he laughed aloud and said, "demon worshippers indeed!"

"How dreadful!" came a startled and unfamiliar voice.

Jace turned around in surprise to find a girl about his own age, or at least so he assumed, not having much experience in such matters, peeping round the door, a broom forgotten in one hand. She squeaked in dismay, "forgive me, I was just sweeping the hall when I heard your outburst and just had to investigate." She blushed crimson at her own unseemly outburst and though she colored further, pressed on, "can you tell me more about these demon worshippers?"

Jace was not sure whether he was more startled, annoyed, or amused by this perplexing creature, but said as calmly as he could, "I haven't much to tell, for I was only laughing at the incongruity of this place with a description I once heard of it. The old woman was convinced this place was naught but a den of such villains, but I have yet to find them, should they exist."

Briane laughed excitedly, clasping her hands like a little girl, "oh, you will have to look long and hard to find such in Astoria. I have been here all my life and have never heard of such goings on."

Jace smiled wryly at his previous eagerness, "so there isn't anyone in Astoria possessed of uncanny abilities as my unenlightened source assumed?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," came the voice of the returning servant. He gave the girl a patient look, "have you not things to be about?" She squeaked again, dropped a curtsy, and disappeared round the corner with a death grip on her broom. The servant shook his head and smiled ruefully, "the silly girl spends more time eavesdropping than attending to her chores; more curiosity than a cat, has that one."

Jace was gaping again, but the servant ignored him and thrust a pile of clothes and a tray of food into his hands, saying as he did so, "as promised, here is your breakfast and a change of clothes. If you hurry, you can just make it to the next class session. You'll have an official schedule soon, but until then you had best tag alone with some of the other Students." He smiled impishly, "and as to your unasked question, you'll soon discover the answers for yourself if you pay attention in class." He nodded at the boy and vanished about his interrupted errands.

Jace shook himself, frowned in consternation at the servant's retreating back, and then hastily changed his clothes and wolfed down the food, both from hunger and eager to begin his education. Only then did he realize he was alone in an unfamiliar castle with no idea where to find said classes. He shrugged, smiled as his audacity reared its head once more, and dashed down the hall in search of a class or an adventure, whichever came first.

He nearly collided with a pair of slightly older boys as he came careening around the corner, determined not to be late. Suddenly ill at ease, Jace muttered his apologies and stared at his feet. One of the older lads must have heard, 'new here,' amongst Jace's mumbling for he cheerily replied, "don't worry about it! Come with us and we'll help you get settled."

The boy stared up in astonishment, gaping yet again, stuttered he, "how can this be? How can you be bothered with helping me? I don't understand?"

The older pair exchanged a grin, then Adan, the lad who had spoken, clapped the younger boy on the back and smiled, "it seems you have much to learn about life in Astoria. Wherever you came from, it must have been a rough life. But come, else we'll be late." Jace smiled at his reassuring words and then blanched in near panic at the thought of being the cause of their tardiness. The older pair shook their heads in amusement but all three hastened off to class.

Jace remembered little of that first lesson, so overwhelmed was he with all that had happened in the last day and all the novel sights and experiences he had taken in. His erstwhile guides were assigned chores in the stable the following hour, which allowed the overwrought Jace some much needed time to sit and think while his companions shoveled muck. The midday meal offered another course of novelty and wonder to Jace's abused sensibilities, never in his life had he been amidst so many people, and most astonishingly of all, though complete strangers, they actually seemed to care about him. Another round of classes was set for the afternoon, but Jace felt he needed some time alone to sort everything out, and perhaps even a nap after his difficult night. He goggled, less than a full day had passed since his father had cast him out, alone in the night. Adan nodded his understanding and showed him back to the corridor that housed his room, and though he valiantly intended to contemplate upon all that had happened, he fell promptly and soundly asleep.

2

A ruckus in the hall wakened the boy as the eager Students returned to their rooms after their last class before going to the evening meal. Jace glanced blearily about, wondering for a moment where he was, but suddenly realization dawned and a great smile lit his face. He had come home at last. He adjusted his rumpled clothing, grateful it was not too wrinkled from his nap and ran a hand through his hair, it would do, then dashed excitedly from the room, again nearly colliding with Adan, who smiled roguishly at the boy and hoped such behavior was not becoming a habit. Said the elder lad with a grin, "it is good to see you so refreshed, you looked rather stunned when we parted and I know you learned nothing in class today, but it seems there is hope for you yet."

Jace smiled ruefully, "it has been quite a day." He glanced hopefully in the direction of the dining hall, even after so short a stay he had become very much accustomed to being fed regularly and well, which was an unlikely occurrence in his former life, said he, "and I'd be happy to tell you all the tale over the evening meal, that is if you care to hear it."

Adan laughed outright, "aye, it must be quite a story indeed, but fear not, there shall be plenty of food to go around."

Jace colored and began studying his boots, abashed that his greatest desire at the moment was so blatantly obvious. Adan glanced at said boots as well and frowned, "but first we had best stop by the supply room and find you a decent pair of boots."

Jace looked up suddenly in surprise, would the miracles in this place never cease? He had never owned a decent pair of boots, this particular pair had been worn by his father when he fled his homeland, ages ago! Adan smiled warmly at the look of grateful astonishment in the lad's eyes and led the way, eager to see the wish fulfilled. The servant in charge of the supply room at that hour took one look at the antique footwear, turned away with a disgusted groan, and vanished into the storage area, reappearing with a worn, but quite serviceable pair of boots that actually fit the agape lad. Rather pleased with himself, the servant smiled smugly and reluctantly took the ancient boots in exchange, his countenance taking on an unruly expression as he did so, their fate remains a mystery to this day but judging from his face, it was not a pleasant one.

As they walked to the dining hall, Jace remarked with an awe tinged voice, "I have never encountered such generosity, not even from my own folk!"

Adan shook his head, his eyes sparkling, "you've seen nothing yet, all we've done this day is see you properly clothed and fed."

Jace froze mid-step and faced his companion, "there's more?!"

Adan clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, "aye, more than you can begin to imagine." They continued on, Jace speechless in incomprehension.

As they sat at table, finishing their food, Jace told his tale, much to the horror and astonishment of Adan and his friends who had joined them for supper. No wonder the boy was so grateful for the least bit of kindness or attention! Adan said at last, "so that is the tale behind that ugly heap of rocks up river? Long have we theorized amongst ourselves about who or what had built it, or rather begun it, and why. It is a grim enough story in its own right." He smiled ruefully, "though nowhere near as horrific as some of the tales we've birthed."

The others shared a wry laugh and eyed their companion with both pity and wonder, Jace awkwardly studied his peas, uneasy being the focus of such attention. Adan continued, more to distract his companions away from their study of the abashed boy than for anything else, "well, this is the place to start over or start anew, if that is your wish. Any idea what you want to do with your life?"

Jace could not restrain his laugh, "it was but a day ago my father cast me out and I encountered true human society for the first time in my life, let alone human kindness. Must I already know the course of my future?"

The others joined in his mirth, forgetting how high were the expectations of their hosts and thus, inadvertently perhaps, their own. Once the laughter had subsided, Jace asked a bit timidly, still uneasy speaking his mind amongst so many strangers, "what is this place? Who founded it? How can they afford to support so many ragamuffin students with no expectation of remuneration? Is there some hidden agenda or trap, for it seems too good to be true?"

Adan smiled, "rest easy my friend, there is nothing sinister or hidden here. You may stay as long as you wish and leave likewise. The only requirement is that you do your best, be respectful of others, and follow the rules as best you can. According to legend, Astoria was founded centuries ago, near the very Beginning. The country is self-sufficient and quite prosperous in its own right, but is also supported by various Kings, Lords, and wealthy benefactors who believe in its mission or have benefited from its services themselves. They have been educating all comers since its foundations were laid."

Jace nodded thoughtfully, "a noble cause I suppose, but who founded it and why? My experience of the world is limited, but I do not see blind philanthropy as a common trait amongst men, someone must have had a reason."

Adan studied his companion thoughtfully, trying to gage his reaction to what was to come, said he at last, "you will learn far more in your initial classes, but the simple answer is: the Master Himself provided for the city's founding as a home for the Brethren and those they serve."

Jace blinked, not having imagined the so far sensible Adan to be one who believed in fairy tales, said he in consternation, "that is what the legends say?"

Adan grinned, "you are a skeptic then?"

Jace shrugged somewhat sheepishly, though he was not the one who seriously thought myth had once walked about under sun and star, "I suppose, though I know little enough of the subject, and of all else for that matter, that I should withhold judgment until I am certain."

Adan nodded, "fair enough, but don't worry, there is no requirement to believe a certain way to study here. Even if you hold it all to be a tall tale, there is still more wisdom to be garnered here than you'll be able to absorb in a lifetime."

Jace smiled in relief, "that is good to know." He frowned thoughtfully, "I met a servant earlier who made a rather cryptic comment about certain individuals around this place having uncanny abilities, but he said I would have to wait for my classes to answer my questions in that regard. Our old housekeeper was convinced the city was inhabited by demon-worshippers, a claim I am certain is wrong, but what is the truth about this place and its denizens?"

Adan smiled in amusement at the servant's evasiveness, he was pretty certain who it was the lad had met, but he said, "the Brethren are purported to have certain gifts given to them in their service to the Master, you will learn far more in days to come if you want specifics, but there is nothing evil in the mix. Uncanny yes, miraculous certainly, but not demonic." He smiled impishly, "how is it you can believe in demons but not the Master?"

Jace frowned at the thought and then smiled ironically, "that is an incongruous thought! But then, I am not sure I believe in demons either, it was just something I overheard and never gave much serious thought until I was bound hither in the dark, alone, after being cast out from all I ever knew. I guess the imagination is prone to embracing the grim and frightening with far less reluctance, especially under such circumstances, than the rational mind is in accepting the supernatural in far more congenial surroundings."

Adan smiled broadly, "my friend, you have come to the right place, for yours is a mind quick and ready to absorb all available wisdom and knowledge, and here you will undoubtedly find ample fodder for thought."

They continued their conversation upon more general topics, for which Jace was thankful, little liking being the center of attention when he was so little used to it; so absorbed was he in all that was said that he did not notice Briane sitting on the edge of the group, studying him with sparkling eyes and a knowing half-smile upon her lips.

Adan saw him back to his quarters after the meal, for even with his nap, Jace was exhausted though sorely disappointed not to be able to participate in the games and conversations held amongst the students that evening, but such was the ritual every night, so he consoled himself with the thought that there was always tomorrow and many days thereafter. Yawning, he bid goodnight to his companion, and was soon asleep.

### Sample Story from 'Over the Hills and Far Away:'

' _Over the hills and far away,'_

thither lies the land of Fey,

Of wandering brook and woodland glade,

Golden meads and dappled shade.

Where evening star is guide and stay

And in the vales, mist doth play.

Dryad, pixie, gnome dwell there,

Griffons lurk and dragons lair.

Songs of old live on there still,

Legend treads on plain and hill.

Beasts that talk and trees that sing,

The poor be rich, a peasant King.

If that land, you would gain,

Take a child in your train,

Let him lead you by the hand,

And you will reach that far, fair land.

~Over the Hills and Far Away~

Up the airy mountains,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

~William Allingham, 'The Fairies'~

### For Fear of Little Men

Beatrice was missing, and none were fain to seek her, save her little brother, Tibbin, but could a mere child go where grown men feared to tread? Perhaps only a little child could. She had strayed up into the hills after her father's missing sheep and none had seen her for a full three days. No one ventured into those hills, for they were known to be haunted by all manner of folk, strange and fey, and it was folly for mortals to tread thereupon. No, the girl was lost, spirited away or bewitched by some fell being, never more to be seen by mortal men under sun and star, at least not in any natural form; her family might as well accept the truth, embrace their loss, and move on with their lives, or so whispered the villagefolk. But Tibbin was not content to lose his sister thus, but loath were his parents to part with their remaining child, so did he make for those forbidden hills without their knowing or leave, save for a brief note of farewell, imparting his fate. Aghast, his parents asked of their friends and neighbors if any were willing to go after. They merely shook their heads and muttered darkly amongst themselves, who would risk their lives when the boy willingly chose his doom? It was not to be helped. The aggrieved couple went home to wait, perhaps vainly, for news of what had come of their children.

Tibbin was a child but he was not a fool, he was young but also sensible. His elders all feared the fairyfolk, mostly because they did not understand them, albeit they had little interaction with that mysterious kindred and only a few old tales, likely flawed, to rely upon for information pertaining thereunto, but they were also small-minded and superstitious, little liking anything outside their ken, which was pretty much anything and everything outside the confines of their secluded village. Tibbin was still young enough to be untainted by their blindness and prejudice; for his were the wide, unguarded eyes of childhood that saw things as they were rather than as the viewer thought them to be. He was a little leery of the fey folk, as all creatures are of the unknown, but he was not paralyzed or handicapped by unmerited terror as his elders were. Thus did he hie himself into those mysterious hills, the only hope for his sister. He took with him enough bread, cheese, and water to last him a week of hard scrabbling over rocky ground, hoping it would be enough. He took no weapons, save a little knife, which was tool rather than implement of death. With his meager rations and a stout, faithful heart did he set out upon quest great and daring.

He left at twilight when his parents thought him abed, creeping carefully out of the house and into the brushy waste behind, clambering over stones and thorny scrub by the light of a slivered moon and a few bright stars. He went as far as he could in the wan light, at least far enough that pursuit would not follow, and then laid himself down under a gorse bush to find what rest he could. An impertinent bird started trilling in said bush at an unearthly hour, wakening the stiff, cold hero into a misty world of gold and rose. He smiled despite his discomfort and drank in the beauty about him, like a connoisseur a rare and delicate wine. He stretched, breakfasted, and was soon off into the mysterious otherworldliness of dawn, feeling that his adventure was well and truly begun. His sister surely waited around the next bend in the path or just over the hill. He whistled as airily as the bird as he set forth.

His sister was not over the next hill, but a short, stocky man with a prodigious beard sat upon a stone in the thinning mist, smoking his pipe. Asked the boy of the stoic figure, "have you perchance seen or heard of a young girl roaming these hills within the last sevennight, good sir?"

The dwarfish gentleman smiled broadly at the lad's boldness, withdrew his pipe, and exhaled thoughtfully, "aye lad, aye. Not a rabbit goes through these hills without my knowing it. How is it you have the courage to come when none of your elders would bestir themselves?"

Said the boy with a shrug, "none would come, so there was only me. Please sir, have you seen my sister?"

The man nodded sagely, "she's taken up with a few of the pixies that haunt meadow and lea, dangerous consorts for a mortal lass."

The boy paled, "have they harmed her or is she in great peril?"

The dwarf laughed, "aye and nay, lad, aye and nay! Those fairies are as feckless and giddy as any lass your sister's age, but they never grow up or wiser, and neither do they age nor die. They will not hurt a mayfly or aught else, but rather delight in all that is pretty and ephemeral: flowers, butterflies, robin's eggs, and the like. They have no use or comprehension of the greater, eternal things but are like a brook's laugh or a dancing little wind in their seriousness and wisdom. The danger lies in the fact Time and Death mean nothing to them. Your sister, if she is not careful, may get so caught up in their whimsical nonsense that she forgets such things herself and by the time she remembers them, may find herself a very old lady with naught of life left to her. It is a tricky thing when mortals think to involve themselves in matters beyond their ken and natural sphere. Your kind is made for eternity, but must enter it through the proper door, not try to sneak in the window."

The boy was silent for a long while as he contemplated the little man's words, and finally said, "can I draw her back?"

The man nodded, "aye lad, if she will come, but she may be so entranced with the merriment and giddiness of her companions that she will yearn to stay. If she will not go of her own will, no power on earth or beyond it will move her. Take heed to yourself, that you not find yourself also caught up in things beyond your natural sphere. Someday perhaps, such or rather far greater shall be your lot, but do not be tempted into seizing it ere it is time for only trouble will come of it." The boy heartily thanked the old man and hastened in the direction he was bidden. The dwarf watched after and wondered what would come of the lad and his sister, silently shaking his head at the recklessness and abandon of those silly pixies and the inadvertent havoc it could wreak upon a mortal creature.

Tibbin had not gone far when he spied a rather curious creature crouching in the shade of a great oak. It appeared to be a lad his own age, but his full height would only reach his father's knee; he was light of build, eye, and hair and his ears were slightly tapered. He winked at the staring boy, motioned eagerly for the lad to follow, and vanished into the hedge of roses at the base of the tree. Tibbin took two happy steps after the fairy creature but then froze, his quest was his sister, not to be caught up in a fate like unto hers. He sighed heavily but turned staunchly back upon his original path and intent. The little creature watched after, for a moment a little disappointed, but then some other amusement soon caught his attention and his lost companion was immediately forgotten.

By the time the sun was on its downward journey, Tibbin had come to the little meadow wherein the dwarf said his sister and her merry companions might be found on occasion. He settled down in a thicket of young birches to await their coming. Neither was the wait to be tedious, dull, or lonely. The world, in itself, was young, spry, pleasant, and full of the wonders of spring, but those hills were haunted by all manner of folk and creature unknown to the children of men, and in this varied parade, Tibbin found endless marvel and interest. Most ignored him, some were openly scornful, and a few asked him to follow in their merry wake, but ever he sat and awaited the coming of Beatrice and her fairy companions. So did he wait for three full days, eating from his scant provisions and refreshing himself in the ever singing brook by which he sat, finally on a night of mist and moon and starlight, five bright figures came laughing and dancing into the water meadow, Beatrice as radiant and blithe as her companions.

Tibbin rose from his place with a joyous shout and for a moment the pixies quivered like frightened birds, but soon they arrayed themselves about him in a merry dance of welcome and curiosity. Beatrice at first did not know him, but as his song joined in their lilting chorus, his well loved voice broke the thrall about her and she joyously left her place in the circle and flew into her brother's arms with tears of unspeakable longing and delight. The piping and cavorting of the fairies increased tenfold at such mirth and delightedly did they share therein, but soon they tired of the newcomer and were rather perplexed and no little troubled by the strange sobbing that now wracked their once gay companion. For nothing did they know of sorrow or death. With a merry call, did they bid Beatrice to flit off with them anew, careless once more, but she smiled sadly, wiped a mysterious moisture from her eyes and cheek, and shook her head adamantly. The pixies shrugged indifferently and capered off into the creeping mist to join the dance of the fireflies, their companion utterly forgotten. Beatrice shook her head ruefully, took Tibbin's hand, and returned to his place amongst the birches. They slept soundly until roused by the zealous chorus of a morning in spring. Hand in hand, they left that lovely meadow and turned their steps and hearts longingly towards home.

They met the little man, still sitting on his accustomed stone and smoking his pipe, perhaps as he had done since the first morning of the world. He smiled joyously at them, waved enthusiastically, and then vanished. They shared a mystified smile and continued on their way. They might have slept another night in the bush but knew their parents were mourning their presumed fate and were eager to turn their weeping to joy. So it was that joy came with the morning. Their father stood aback the house, staring morbidly off into the hills and thought himself in a delirium when he glimpsed his lost children walking blithely back from the land of things forgotten and unknown. He trumpeted his wonder and joy so loudly that the entire village was roused. His wife came disbelieving from the house, took one look at what had so disquieted her husband, and added her own shriek of pure joy to the cacophony of laughing welcome and wonder.

The grim eyed, fretful villagers gathered round the happy little foursome and muttered darkly about curses, possession, and worse. A few even clutched a kitchen knife, pitchfork, or wood axe in nervous dread. The now grave father stood forth and asked of his disturbed folk, "my children have returned unscathed, why do you not rejoice?"

Said one distrustful old man, "who are you to say they are unscathed? Who knows what terrible curse might have been laid upon them? None venture into those hills and returns unchanged, if they return at all. They are a threat and a danger to us all as long as they remain among us. Send them back or send them away lest evil befall us all, else we will take matters into our own hands."

The man shook his head in grim disgust, but before he could reply to this nonsense, Tibbin took his hand, looked gently into his eyes, and said with a wisdom far beyond his years, "heed him not father, he knows not of what he speaks and no words of yours will change his mind." Unchanged indeed! The man smiled down at this young sage, caught the eyes of all his dear ones, and then looked once more upon those mysterious hills. A brilliant flicker of gold and white upon a far hill, like a distant star, filled all his vision and called bewitchingly to his very soul. Said Tibbin with tremulous, but joyous finality, "come, come away!" He took his father's hand, his mother and sister joined theirs also, and the entire family boldly made for that distant vision, the flummoxed villagers parting before them like water around the bow of a boat. They vanished into those wondrous hills and were seen in that village no more. Many and dark were the rumors of the witchery that had taken an entire clan and the grim fate that had undoubtedly befallen them, but I can assure you, they were all of them wrong.

### The Greylands: Volume V Sample Chapter:

### The Pallid Knight:

The rain lashing at the windows did nothing to lighten Kyan's mood and only seemed to echo the doubts that plagued his mind when he was too tired or discouraged to chase them away with his usual unshakable enthusiasm. The small, dark cottage in which he and his sister now dwelt offered little in the way of comfort or cheer, especially on such a gloomy day. They had once lived in a grand castle, she had been a fine lady, and he had aspired to become a great knight. But now they were little more than paupers, totally dependent on what little remained of their elder brother's beneficence. Kyan had been a squire in the service of a renowned knight when word reached him of his father's sudden death, his brother's assumption of their father's rank and wealth, and his sister's impending nuptials to a knight of most unworthy character. All of which prompted the boy to beg his master's leave to return home until matters could be settled in a more satisfactory fashion. His master had scoffed at his weakness and bid him return home if he must, but bade him not to return if he were so foolish as to leave such a desirous post for so pathetic reason. So Kyan had fled home with all haste, much to his sister's joy and his brother's great displeasure.

Kaya was to wed a rich and powerful knight, though one with a dreadful reputation, as soon as could be arranged. Marlin, their elder brother, did not want to be troubled with the girl and was quite desirous of the benefits to himself that came by forming such an alliance, though it would come at the cost of all his sister's happiness. Kyan would not stand to see his sister wed to such a man and boldly declared this to his brother who was already aghast at the boy's sudden desertion of his post. He banished them both to the old cottage that had once served the gatekeeper but had long since been replaced by a better and more serviceable abode. Thither they fled and waited to see what might come of the matter once Marlin's wrath had cooled. But in the fortnight since their change of address, they had seen nothing of their brother nor heard anything from him. A retired footman had appeared at their door one bright morning three days after their banishment and had assumed the place of steward, butler, gardener, cook, and drudge. It seemed their brother had at least granted them an allowance of food and the aid of the old servant, though he would not deign to speak to them himself.

Kyan must have sat deep in thought for some time, for the rain had ceased and the bright sunshine of a spring morning was pouring in the window. Kaya stood before him and declared, "I cannot abide it any longer! I must be allowed out of this squalid little hut ere I go mad. Do you think I could have the use of the stables?"

Kyan frowned doubtfully, "I little know what we dare in our current circumstances."

Kaya grinned mischievously, "then I shall dare all of Marlin's wrath for a ride on such a morning!"

She bounced out of the house before Kyan could call her back, but he did catch the eye of their faithful servant who gave a quick nod of his head and dashed after the lady. At least she would not go alone. The servants in the stable said nothing as the lady and her ancient footman selected their horses and rode out into the brilliant day, fresh after the rain. Kyan watched them go, an unbidden sense of trepidation suddenly rising in his heart; he wondered at this, for it had nothing to do with his brother.

The day was fading into dusk when the breathless servant returned at the gallop, ashen grey and alone. His horse was frothed with sweat and dancing so much with nervousness that it was a miracle the man could maintain his seat. Kyan dashed out into the yard as the man reined the nearly frantic beast to a standstill. The old servant flung himself from the saddle and on his knees, wept out a tale of woe as he clutched his young master's coat and sobbed. Kyan stared at the man, dumbfounded. It could not be, but the old man was far from senile. The horse stood with head hanging and sides heaving, a merry ride in the country could not account for the pitiful creature's state, no matter how far and hard they had ridden. Something had frightened the beast nigh unto death and his rider was in little better state. Kyan freed himself from the terrified old man's clutching hands, said something he could never afterwards remember in way of consolation, and dashed for the castle to inform his brother of these dread tidings.

The doors were firmly closed for the night and the watchman on duty shook his head grimly as the boy pounded vainly on the great oaken doors. Said the guard, "it is no use lad, your brother will not hear you. He has forsaken you and your sister as kith and kin and will no longer associate with either of you, so much have you embarrassed and discomfited him. He will allow you to live quietly under his care, as he might a penniless uncle, but he will not deign to allow you into his presence or acknowledge you as kin. You had best go home and leave things be, ere they grow worse should you further provoke him."

Kyan stopped his pounding upon the door and said in desperation, "but my sister! Our sister! She has this day gone missing! We will need all our strength and more to rescue her!"

The old soldier shook his head sadly, "he will not hear you or acknowledge her as his responsibility. If there is a remedy, you must find it yourself."

The boy nodded in resignation and turned from the great door. As he turned to go, he said to the ancient guard, "could I have the loan of your sword? I have no weapon to my name and this foe is grim indeed."

Moved to pity by the plight of the boy and his sister, of whom he had been fond since they were small enough to bounce upon their father's knee, the old man said, "my armor is old and plain, but the sword is sharp as any of greater name or lineage. Take what you need, for here it will only rust in the damp of night and rain during hours of countless watching."

The boy brightened at this small offer of help, took what the man could spare him, and then dashed towards the stable. He took the horse he had returned home upon and vanished into the night upon the trail of his lost sister. The old servant watched the boy ride off then collapsed into a sobbing heap before the crumbling cottage; he was raving with fever when they found him the next morning and the name he cried out sent a chill through the heart of even the boldest that heard it. Marlin cursed his brother's foolishness for undertaking such a quest alone. Many were the brave knights that had challenged this dreadful foe yet none had ever returned to tell the tale.

Kyan pushed his horse as hard as he dared, knowing he had a long journey ahead of him yet his heart ached to think of his sister languishing in the clutches of this infamous villain. His own courage nearly failed even to think upon that name, let alone to speak it aloud. The Master of Bones was infamous for his cruelty and seeming invincibility, but there was no mistaking that those who had borne off his sister were Minions, the awful slaves of that terrible creature. So he rode on, knowing full well his own death was inevitable but hoping against hope that somehow he might succeed in ransoming his sister. The creature's lair stood atop a mountain at least a week's hard riding from Marlin's castle and Kyan regretted every minute wasted in rest, but neither he nor his horse would live to challenge the Master of Bones if he pressed on as hard as he wished. The days were a blur, he slept uneasily when he stopped to rest the horse. He lived on the dry bread and meat the servant had hastily packed ere his departure. But somehow, both man and beast survived the interminable journey and stood at the base of the mountain atop which a once grand castle perched, wherein dwelt their vile foe.

Kyan drew rein and stopped for their final rest at the base of the path leading up the rocky slope. The tired horse whinnied in terror, catching the creature's scent; he reared, pulled his reins free, and fled back the way they had come. Kyan sighed heavily, not liking to lose his only companion on this suicidal quest, but perhaps it was for the best. At least one of them would survive this adventure. "That beast has more sense than you," came an amused voice, "it would be wise for you to flee likewise."

Kyan jumped at the unexpected utterance but quickly glanced around to locate the source. An old man, hunched and bent, sat upon a stone beside the climbing path though no one had been there a moment before. Said the boy, "I would not attempt such a thing were it not needful sir, that creature has my sister and I must attempt her rescue or forever rue my cowardice."

The old man nodded thoughtfully, "a needful thing perhaps, but certainly not wise unless you can somehow hope to accomplish your task."

The boy nodded glumly, "I know none have lived who have ascended this hill but I must try sir."

The peculiar little man said, "no, none survive but that does not mean you cannot succeed in your goal." The boy frowned in incomprehension as the man continued, "there is a way to rescue your sister but it will cost you your life."

For the first time in days, hope shown in the boy's eyes, "I knew I rode to my death regardless sir, let it not be in vain. What must I do?"

The old man said, "only a true Knight can defeat this dreadful creature and only one willing to lay his life down without struggle or fuss. He must offer himself in the victim's stead, only then can the creature be destroyed and the hostage freed, else all will perish."

The boy sighed, "I am willing to make such a sacrifice yet no knight am I, only a disgraced squire."

The strange little man laughed, "what know these mortal lords of true valor and courage? Come boy, kneel and you shall be a true Knight of the Great King." The boy's eyes widened in wonder but he quickly knelt before the old man who promptly knighted the boy, and then sent him on his way after telling him exactly what must be said and done. The boy stood, nearly glowing with eagerness and was about to spill forth his thanks to the stranger but he was again alone at the base of the path. He shook his head in wonder and quickly set forth on his last and greatest quest.

He had not gone far when an ugly creature, roughly man shaped but with long arms and a leathery grey hide, accosted him, "would you challenge the Master of Bones fool?"

Kyan took a deep breath and addressed the Minion as calmly as he could, though his heart quivered within him, "I do not come to challenge your master. He has taken my sister and I would take her place. I do hereby surrender myself to your master if he would then free my sister. She is but a disgraced lady of little name and no fortune. I am a true Knight, full and free."

The creature at first seemed taken aback at this statement and then burst into uproarious laughter. Kyan calmly waited for the abomination to regain its senses. The mirthful convulsions finally subsided and the Minion replied as calmly as it could, "very well, my master would be most interested in your plea. Come." He followed the creature as it ascended towards the ancient castle that the Master of Bones had taken from whomever had built it centuries ago. As they climbed, Minions seemed to appear out of every crevice and crack in the stone and from behind every rock. There had never been such an entrance as this in all the long years since the Master of Bones had taken this place for his own. Mortal men came only ever to challenge or as captives, never as a willing victim.

Kyan was surrounded by Minions as they finally came to the ridge on which the ancient ruin stood; the Master of Bones had come forth to meet them. The creature was vaguely troll-like in appearance, being thrice the height of a man with long arms, pasty flesh, scraggly hair, beady eyes, and many cruel and broken teeth. He stared down at his victim and gloated, "not brave enough to challenge me boy? Or perhaps you know I can be bested by no mortal man? In either case, I shall drink your blood and my Minions shall gladly gnaw your bones."

"What of my sister?" demanded Kyan in a bold voice that surprised everyone, most of all himself.

The Master of Bones snorted, "if her freedom is your price, then let the bargain be struck. As soon as you lie dead, she shall go free." "Only," said the monster in great glee, "she must watch."

Kyan flinched, "must you be so cruel?"

He snorted in derision, "what else could I be? Be silent, you are lucky I am willing to bargain at all, but this miserable sacrifice amuses me else I would not humor such folly. Now lie on that stone bier, as is proper for a Knight in death."

Kyan climbed atop the great flat topped stone and lay with his sword on his breast, clutching the hilt with both hands. He heard his sister shriek as the Minions brought her forth to watch this ghastly demonstration; he heard her shrieks of terror turn to sobs of horror as she recognized her brother on the slab. The Master of Bones smiled at her horror and then bent over the prone Knight, gloating, "I hope the price was worth it boy!" He opened his grim mouth to reveal countless sharp and broken teeth with which he bit down on the boy's exposed neck and severed the great vessels found therein. The sudden shunting of blood from Kyan's brain to the monster's gullet caused the boy to lapse suddenly into darkness, his sister's sobs and the mocking laughter of the Minions were the last things he heard.

The boy's skin grew deathly pale, his heart struggled vainly, and his breathing ceased; Kaya wept inconsolably. The monster stood upright, a dreadful smile on his face, as he sneered down at the limp and unmoving Knight. The girl's sobbing made him smile all the more. He reached down and took up the boy's sword, disappointed to discover the fool was so ill-equipped. His castle was stuffed with treasure once owned by those foolish enough to oppose him. This pathetic creature bore nothing more than a common foot soldier might possess. A single drop of blood escaped his flabby lips and landed on the sword as he studied the weapon. He cast it aside in disgust, but it did not clatter upon the stony ground as it should have.

He turned to stare in astonishment at the ominous silence and gasped to see his victim sitting up and holding the sword, ready to spring. The monster began to laugh but it turned to a gurgle as Kyan leapt upon him and drove the weapon deep into the creature's chest. They collapsed together upon the stony ground and the Master of Bones fell to dust. A great cry went up from the hapless Minions who suddenly clutched at their chests and vanished, as had their master. A terrible wind came up and blew away the mortal remains of the Minions and their late master. Kaya remained alone in that desolate place and raced to the side of her unmoving brother, who lay pale and lifeless upon the flagstones. She knelt over the prone form and wept in terror, horror, and relief.

"Move aside girl," came an urgent but not unfriendly voice. In wonder and astonishment, the girl did as she was bidden before realizing who it was that had spoken. The bent old man knelt beside the boy, blew on his face, and said simply, "awake." He moved aside as Kyan groaned, sat up, and stared in wonder at the old man, who smiled knowingly and winked at the flummoxed boy. The swirling storm of thoughts and experiences that raced through the stunned boy's mind suddenly calmed and resolved itself into some semblance of order. He had many questions, had seen things that no mortal mind can comprehend for they are things beyond this world, but he knew he must wait, for now was not the time to inadvertently reveal things that have been hidden from the knowledge of man since the beginning of Time.

The old man moved aside and allowed the overjoyed Kaya to assault her brother. She flung herself upon him and wept in joy and relief. He held her close, letting her vent her emotions and once she had recovered her composure, they both turned curious eyes upon their ancient benefactor. He smiled gently at them and said, "you have many questions I know, but now is not the time for answers. Instead, you must put this place in order and put its treasures and secrets to good use."

Kyan stood and his sister did the same. He bowed deeply to the wizened being before him and said, "thank you for every thing; we shall do as you ask."

Kaya gasped, "but...?" She did not finish her protest, for the man had vanished suddenly with a bemused smile and a wink. She turned to her brother and proclaimed, "can you tell me what is going on?"

He shook his head and smiled, "I will tell you what little I know but first I think we had best be about the task that was set us."

They finally had the chance to take a good look at the things around them and Kaya gasped in wonder, "it is truly beautiful! Perhaps if it rained and green things grew here once more it might rival fabled Paradise."

Kyan said almost to himself, "that it would, though no earthly place could ever truly compare to that bright country."

As if in answer to her thoughts, the thunder rumbled and a sudden downpour drove them into the castle proper. They had expected to find the place dark, dirty, and crumbling to dust, but it seemed the wind that had carried away the remnants of their enemies had also done a thorough job of dusting as well. There were obviously places where the castle was in need of repair due to the neglect and occasional violence of its most recent occupants, but that it was in such good repair after so much inattention and abuse said much of the skill and proficiency of its builders. Neither was it dark and dreary, as they had expected. They found the windows open, allowing in the grey light of a stormy afternoon while torches, lamps, and candles burned brightly throughout the castle while fires blazed in every hearth, driving the damp and chill from the wet spring weather.

"I did not expect that creature to keep this place so well lit!" exclaimed Kaya cheerfully.

Kyan shook his head, "this is not of his doing. Come, we had best look deeper into the recesses of this place. Legend holds it to be stuffed to overflowing with treasure, not that anyone has ever glimpsed it and lived to tell the tale." They descended into the lower reaches of the castle and found the dungeons, wine cellars, and other subterranean chambers full of gold, gems, tapestries, paintings, and any number of precious, beautiful, and rare items. Kyan looked grimly on the vast collection of finely wrought armor and bright swords, knowing what had come of their former owners. He turned to his sister and said, "now let us look into the upper chambers."

She nodded and eagerly left the glittering stores below, such splendor had given her quite a headache. They found the upper tiers of the castle structurally sound, stripped of all decoration and comfort, yet strangely clean with the furniture in good condition, as if awaiting a fresh change of linen after a thorough spring cleaning. Kaya's eyes danced with merriment as they descended once more to the main hall, "what did that man mean by 'do good' with all this treasure?"

Kyan smiled, "we are to put this ill-gotten gain to good use. It shall go to the aid of those who need it, especially those who have suffered so long under the brutality of that creature."

She laughed and clapped her hands together like an excited child, "what fun that shall be!" She then glanced about and sighed, "that is if we have any time left after caring for this great castle. How are we to find servants willing to work in a place that was only this morning a horror and a nightmare?"

Kyan said knowingly, "that too shall be provided."

His smile broadened as a nervous and tentative figure crept into the brightly lit hall. Kaya gasped in fear and took a step behind her brother, but Kyan walked forward and embraced the flabbergasted old servant. He stared at his late master and mistress in some combination of joy and terror, not quite knowing what to say. "Lenard!" said Kaya in sheer joy, "what brings you to this dreadful place?"

The man crumpled his hat in his hands and looked at the floor, but then sheepishly glanced at first one and then the other, not yet sure what to think or even to say, but he began, "I saw them take you my lady; I tried to follow, but alas my poor horse would not keep apace of those dreadful creatures. Instead I rode like a madman back to your brother and told him the tale. He begged your elder brother's aid but he was not even granted a hearing so was forced to ride forth alone. After I saw him off, I was left all alone and so exhausted and grief-stricken that I could do naught but collapse in a heap, and was soon overcome with fever. Your elder brother's servants found me and did what they could, but there was little hope or so they said. But in the midst of my delirium, an old man came to me and said that I might be of some aid to my master if I would but go to him." "How could I refuse," continued he, "so I sat up, took up my hat and cloak, got out of bed, and the moment I stepped outside the door, my fever was gone, I felt quite rested and found myself at the foot of this very mountain. And here I am. How is it that I got here? I cannot say, but so I am. How is it that you survived and even triumphed in this place, my lord and my dearest lady?"

Kyan laughed for joy, "it seems your mysterious old man has been quite a help to all of us of late. It was he that advised me on how to deal with the creature that once lurked herein, and he that called me back into the mortal realm."

Kaya then broke in with a sob, "so you were truly dead?"

Kyan smiled gently and drew her close in a hug, "for your sake I was willing to endure anything and the cost of your freedom was death. And it was only willing blood that could vanquish that creature we shall not name. With his demise, so too perished his Minions."

Kaya shivered, "what were those dreadful things?"

Kyan said thoughtfully, "they were once men. There were but two choices when one came to this place willingly or as a captive. One was death, the other was slavery to that creature. He would spare your life but thereafter you belonged to him and upon his defeat, all of his Minions likewise perished."

Kaya shuddered, "what a dreadful choice!"

Kyan said quietly, "it should have been no choice at all, for such could not be considered life." He turned to Lenard, "come my friend, you are soaked to the bone and just out of a sickbed. We must get you warm and fed."

Lenard gasped in horror, "nay my lord, it cannot be so! I feel quite hale and hearty, as I have not felt in thirty years. Whereas you have endured far worse than I and look as if you should be abed and unable to rise."

Kyan frowned in confusion but finally took a look at himself in a great mirror upon one wall. He gasped in surprise and then smiled, "I suppose one cannot complain about his looks when he has just recovered from something as serious as death. Why did you not say something my dear sister?"

She smiled ruefully and said, "the day has been so overwhelming and I was so grateful to have you back that I little noticed anything else."

Kyan glanced again at his reflection and had to agree with Lenard. He should be abed, if not in his grave. He was pale as death and a great wound gaped in his neck where vile teeth had struck. He felt fine, in fact he felt better than he ever could remember. "Fear not for me Lenard," said Kyan as calmly as he could, "I feel as good as you, no matter what I look like."

"As you say sir," said he doubtfully, "what would be your first order of business? I assume I will be allowed to resume my usual duties?" Kyan smiled and the man dashed off gleefully to begin setting the castle in order.

It rained for three days and on the fourth, the sun shone brightly on a green and fresh countryside that had swiftly forgotten years of abuse and neglect. The castle gleamed white and grey in the sunshine while the mountain sparkled like an emerald after centuries of naught but dust and bare stone. This sudden change caused quite a stir among the folk who sometimes caught a glimpse of the once dreaded keep, but few were those who dared live or even travel within sight of that horrible place but word quickly spread from those that did and more soon came to gawk out of curiosity.

However, their first visitor arrived upon that first wet morning amidst the fury of the storm. He was a stranger and knew nothing of the place, though little enough could be seen in the midst of the storm. He was a knight in full armor, aback a fearsome steed, and he had come a'questing. He stood at the castle gates and blew his horn, then shouted his challenge to the master of the castle. The bold knight was quite taken aback when no fierce monster came forth but only an ancient servant who said almost apologetically, "if you would sir Knight, my master asks you to join him for the morning repast. You can discuss your challenge over eggs and toast I suppose."

So astonished was he, that he dismounted without a word and followed the man laboriously into the castle, for it is not easy to walk in full armor. After the tedious business of stripping off his armor, the young knight curiously followed the servant into the small dining room, which they had taken to using for their meals. Lenard was quite astonished to find a fully stocked pantry, but not ungrateful to their mysterious benefactor. The young man bowed to the strangely pale man who sat at the head of the table and to the fair lady that sat beside him. The man and lady returned his formalities and motioned for him to take the chair opposite the lady.

The young man stammered as Lenard served the eggs, "where is the Master of Bones? Have I come to the wrong place?"

Kyan shuddered slightly and said, "please do not speak that evil name in this place. You are in the right place but have come too late, for the monster is slain and his curse broken."

The young knight sighed, "then my quest has failed. My father has too many sons and not enough of an inheritance to settle upon them all. I was given the choice of taking this quest and thereby gaining my fortune or of displacing an aged goatherd from his crumbling cottage which is all my father could bequeath me."

Kyan smiled, "then you had best let the poor goatherd alone and rather stay here, marry my sister, and put this dreadful treasure to good use." They stared at him as if he were mad, but he smiled quite sanely at them.

"You hardly know me!" squawked the boy.

"I do not know you but my Master does," said Kyan, as if this made perfect sense. He continued, "of course you both must agree to the arrangement, but it is a needful thing, as I have other errands I must be about and I cannot leave my lady sister here unattended."

The knight glanced thoughtfully at the lady who shyly dropped her gaze when his met hers. He laughed warmly, "I suppose this is a far fairer quest than that upon which I rode forth. If the lady is willing, so am I." Kaya readily though quite abashedly agreed. The old man appeared quite providentially that evening and performed the ceremony, vanishing suddenly thereafter. Kyan bid farewell to them all and marched out into the tempest that raged without, all wondering why he did not heed the storm or the darkness. They shared a perplexed look but they had seen far stranger things of late.

### On Heroes: A Foible

Aido had been an under-clerk for the Department of Prophecy Amelioration for over a decade, and at last he was about to embark on his first undercover investigation. He had been in training for years: working out, perfecting his combat techniques, learning to procure and prepare 'wild food,' studying old maps and forgotten languages, familiarizing himself with the prophetic writings of every culture, real or imagined, learning the arts of healing, riding, and woodcraft, and only shaving every third day. Finally, his superiors had decided that he was ready to be promoted to the rank of Investigator for the Sub-department of Hero Isolation and Containment. He happily walked over to the Repository of Draught and Riding Beasts to procure his very own work vehicle; hopefully something in a blood bay with a little spirit, but that was asking for too much, after all, his was a bureaucratic position.

At least he was not assigned the riding ox or the donkey that would only go left regardless of whether you asked him to stop, turn, or back up. He took the reins from the bored looking kid who worked the desk and looked over his new wheels skeptically; it had four legs at least, that was a start. The sorrel coat would blend in with every other horse on the planet, which was far from exciting, but perhaps being inconspicuous would be an advantage in the field. It would get him where he needed to go in an efficient manner and that was all the Department cared about. He sighed and led the beast out of the Repository and parked it in the loading area before going to retrieve the rest of his equipment.

If the horse wasn't exciting, maybe his weapons allotment would be. Aido stood in line for what seemed hours as a fusty old lady pottered about behind the counter of the Dispensary of Potentially Lethal Implements, adjusting her glasses and scratching her head in confusion every three seconds. Finally his turn came and he handed over the paperwork requisitioning what he would need for his field investigation. She stared at him blankly, blinked a few times like a confused chicken, and then after a few minutes of silence said, "you will have to come back after the Midday Ingestion Break, Investigator. You know it is against Regulations for me or anyone else to do any sort of Official Business between the hours of Twelve and Thirteen." He stared at her in astonishment, not believing it was already that late in the day and dreading the thought of more delay, but there was nothing to be done. If either of them were caught working over the Break, the results would be catastrophic. He said something inconsequential and made his way to the Room of Edible Procurement and then returned to the Dispensary to wait, finding that he had lost his place in line. He sat down with a sigh and tried not to weep in frustration. Finally, just before the Afternoon Refreshment Period, he was allowed to get his allotment of PLIs. Like the horse, there was nothing at all interesting about the assortment of weapons but they were functional at least.

Quite nervous that he would not be able to leave today after all, he hurried to the Division of Wardrobe Affairs to outfit himself for his new role and thankfully arrived after the Refreshment Period. He stared glumly at the bundle of clothing, knowing it looked like it was supposed to but that the material and craftsmanship would not hold up if he encountered any weather that was not sunny and warm. The middle-aged clerk watched his reaction carefully, with a slight sneer on his face, saying as he saw Aido's dismay, "don't blame me, we have limited time to make the stuff and whoever bought the material got a great deal on it, but I wouldn't use it for rags, but it ain't my fault."

Aido sighed again and left with his allocation of lousy clothes. Finally, with the sun low on the horizon, he returned to his nondescript horse to pack and be gone, but it took him another half hour to figure out which of the eight sorrel geldings in the loading area was his. When he finally identified the beast, he almost turned right around and demanded his old job back, for there was a parking ticket tucked into the creature's bridle. He glanced at the sign, thirty minute parking indeed! He loaded the saddlebags and swung into the saddle. With a grim smile, he crumpled up the fine and tossed it over his shoulder and then urged his horse to a trot before anything else could delay him.

He stood outside the Edifice of Monetary Exchange and wanted to scream. He needed to make a withdrawal from the Department's account to finance his journey but the facility was closed and would not open again for three days, as it was an Obscure Holiday Weekend (Foot Fungus Awareness Day). Aido could not wait that long or his superiors would demand to know why he was so inefficient in his duties. He had no choice but to hope there was a branch Edifice in one of the villages through which he would undoubtedly pass. He turned his mediocre beast and made his way out of the city. Darkness had fallen, forcing him to pull over for the night. He glanced about hopefully, but there was no sign of either an Approved Nocturnal Repose Sight or a House of Temporary Accommodation for Wayfarers. He could get in trouble for camping in an unapproved fashion but it was a risk he would have to take, and with the mood he was in, he was quite ready to defy any and every regulation he could think of. He even built a fire without a permit from the Incendiary Activity Coordinator and used wood without asking leave of the Arboreal Comptroller. The cheery blaze revealed a sardonic smile on the face of the Investigator as he rethought the day and began to wonder at his previous eagerness for this assignment.

He had always been as much a stickler for the rules as any petty bureaucrat could be, but after all the headache and frustration of the day, he began to wonder at his previous zeal for such stipulations. With these uneasy thoughts on his mind, he turned over and tried to sleep in as unregulated a fashion as possible. The birds awoke far earlier than any sensible regulatory body or department could fathom, a challenge the Avian Affairs Agency was still trying to bring under control, but the small, feathered fiends just would not submit to their authority though fines and imprisonment had all been tried, alas to no avail. Aido was glad there was something in the Universe that had as yet defied regulation and even more grateful that he would be up and on his way long before the lackeys of the Thoroughfare Safety and Compliance Administration were abroad. His more sensible side began to regret his rashness with the parking ticket, but another part of him laughed mercilessly at the part that fretted over such a trifling matter. He gathered up his gear, mounted his horse, and continued on his way.

It was just the sort of day to prolong the usefulness of his standard issue substandard clothing and his heart rejoiced in the beauty of the morning, quite insensible that he was violating at least nine subparagraphs of the Modern Aesthetic Code, which frowned upon such natural splendor and the enjoyment thereof, rather preferring the appreciation of the far more grotesque and grim (not to mention more financially lucrative) products of the modern writers, musicians, and painters. But what did this mere underling know of High Culture and the Finer Things of Life? He rode along amongst the bucolic charm all about him, content in his ignorance. The plain old horse jogged along indifferent to the countryside about him, and therefore quite obviously a lover of Fine Things and of a higher social order than his master. They came to a sizable market town that afternoon and Aido hoped to make a successful withdrawal from his work account to finance the remainder of his mission, else the paperwork to obtain a reimbursement of his expenditures would take the rest of his mortal days to accomplish.

He stopped before the newest and ugliest building in town, certain that it must be what he sought. It was, but like every other public institution, it was also closed in observance of an Official Obscure Holiday Weekend. Apparently his work related expenditures would have to be passed on to his children as an inheritance as he would not live long enough to be reimbursed. He sighed and urged the beast out of town before he started screaming in frustration and risked being locked away as a lunatic or a disturber of the peace. Aido rode on for another hour before stopping alongside a happy creek, where he decided to take a break from his saddle and water his highly efficient mode of transportation. He mused upon his assignment and its futility as he leaned on the bridge railing and watched the gladsome water frolic in its stony channel beneath him. He wished his life could be as happy and careless as that unceasing flow. Another day of riding would bring him to his destination, perhaps his previous enthusiasm would then return once he was truly doing what he had always dreamt of doing one day and for which he had spent his entire life preparing. With a heavy sigh he climbed back into his saddle, knowing chances were very good that only his loathing would grow in the days to come, for his heart had grown cold towards his first and only love. He rode on, wondering what he was riding towards or perhaps more correctly what he was trying to escape.

He passed through several small villages while the day lasted, each with its own Regulation Stopping Places but he ignored them and rode on, enjoying the illicit thrill of thwarting the over-regulation under which he had happily toiled his entire life. Thankfully it was a Holiday Weekend, else he might not have made it through the first village without being apprehended by the local constabulary for his various, heinous crimes against humanity and the world in general, to say nothing about the discarded traffic citation. He rode on through more and more villages, each more forgettable than the last, laid out in the precise pattern required by the Zoning Commission of Outlying Settlements. He camped again in an unregulated fashion before rising on the Official Obscure Holiday and rode into Happytown in time for the Midday Ingestion Break. He glanced around uneagerly at yet another cookie cutter village and sighed, but he had work to do. He entered the Requisite Lodging and Nourishment Establishment for Transients, the only place open on an Official Obscure Holiday, and allowed the flighty teenaged hostess to seat him in the nearly empty common dining area and acknowledged that he would gladly consume the Daily Balanced and Nutritious Repast. She returned with the unassuming concoction in a bowl and set a mug of some viscous purplish-green liquid before him that smelled of aged turnips and old socks, which immediately killed what little appetite he had.

As he was staring balefully at his inedible Repast, a man with a knowing look in his eyes seated himself beside the Investigator and smiled superciliously at him. Said the newcomer without preamble, "you work for the Feds don't you." It was not a question.

Aido looked up in surprise but did not deny it, saying, "what gave me away?"

The man's smile became condescending, "anyone dressed in cloth of that poor a make must either be destitute or a government employee." He laughed in derision, "my brother is a fabric merchant and makes a handsome living by selling such pathetic material by the square acre to lackeys in the Department of Acquisition and Distribution of Necessary Consumables. He makes more per yard from that flimsy stuff than he does selling the finest material available to the Great Lords."

Aido smiled ironically, "that does not surprise me in the least."

Said the stranger, "so what are you doing here? Obviously you are here on Official Unofficial Business else you'd be in a Right and Proper Uniform."

Said Aido warmly, "I am here to discover if any Heroes might be budding in Happytown. Certain of the Prophecies hint at just such an Occurrence in the very near future."

The man laughed, "trying to thwart Prophecy again, are they? Will you people ever realize there are just some things government cannot control?"

Aido stared at his regulation soup in dismay, "that I highly doubt."

Said the man eagerly, "so just what happens if you discover said Hero?"

Aido said dryly, "we offer him a great government job. If he declines that, then he gets to attend Mandatory Reeducation Sessions for the Socially Dysfunctional and will inevitably end up committing suicide, excuse me, I mean he will choose Elective Self Annihilation."

"Lovely," said his companion, "you people have a title for everything!"

Aido smiled wryly, "the Department of Nomenclature is the biggest division of the government." He glanced around furtively and said, "I would rather get out of this line of work. The sooner the better."

The stranger brightened, "with that I may be of assistance." He continued with an amused smile, "are you aware that you are a fugitive?"

Aido frowned, "I was not aware that it was Official, but it would not surprise me, though it is an Obscure Holiday. The parking fine?"

The stranger laughed, "you didn't?!"

Aido caught his amusement and nodded, "I carelessly tossed it aside." He then whispered, "among other vicious crimes."

The stranger smiled deeply, "then I will gladly aid your disappearance. We criminals must stick together. Come!" They stood silently, heartlessly leaving the inedible fodder on the table and a less than standard tip for the Hostess.

As they walked inconspicuously down the street, Aido noticed several posters bearing his face and emblazoned with directions for his immediate apprehension. They continued their steady, unhurried progress (so as not to draw attention) and turned down a smaller lane that apparently vanished into the neatly managed coppice behind the village. Eventually the Regulation Side Path crossed the threshold into the Unregulated and Semi-wild Wooded Area and became as unmanaged as the forest through which it wound. They continued on in silence for nearly an hour, and only when they felt themselves truly alone and unobserved did the stranger finally speak, "so what has prompted your flight from Order my friend?"

Aido laughed, "I set out with every good intention of fulfilling my orders but it seemed at every turn there was a governmentally imposed hindrance to me accomplishing my task or even surviving for an hour without unneeded frustration and complication. That and the ride out here gave me plenty of time to consider life and the lack of meaning therein."

The stranger smiled broadly, "welcome to the first day of a purposeful life my friend. I am called Gunyon and am a member of the Freemen for Commonsense."

Aido grinned, "that sounds like something birthed in the Department of Nomenclature."

Gunyon laughed, "it was, we social rebels had not yet got around to naming our pathetic little society and the guys over at Nomenclature could not abide having such an as yet unnamed group running at large so they came up with a name for us."

"Just what does this society of yours do?" asked Aido as they trekked deeper into the confines of the wood.

Gunyon shrugged, "we really haven't accomplished much of anything yet. We started only a few months ago as a small group of annoyed citizens who occasionally met to grouse about too much Order over Tea. Of course our Tea Time was not considered the Official Hour for Consuming Brewed Beverages so the authorities soon started to take notice. We each received a rather nasty letter, in triplicate of course, indicating that we had best mend our ways or there would be Dire Consequences."

"What did you do?" asked Aido, both amused and aghast.

Gunyon smiled, "we went underground of course. On the outside we are just monotonous citizens but when no one is looking..." he paused for effect, "we each of us are rather disorderly and unique."

"Your crimes far outweigh mine, sir," said Aido with a respectful bow.

Gunyon smiled in anticipation, "but you have hardly begun to rebel my friend. I think you could make quite a career of it." For the first time since he left his old life behind, Aido felt the first stirrings of eagerness and what he was startled to realize must be hope.

Once Aido was completely confused as to direction and the hour, they stood outside an old fashioned but well tended cottage with only a few unofficial weeds daring to show their leaves in the otherwise regulation vegetable patch. Aido said in appreciation, "how do you get away with keeping up such a residence?"

Gunyon smiled, "the Inspectors for the Regulatory Authority of Domiciles and Outbuildings are loath to travel this far off the beaten path to make sure my house is up to code. I don't tell them anything and they don't ask; it is a mutually beneficial relationship." They stabled the horse in an old lean-to that had once housed a cow, but Gunyon had not bothered to go through the rigmarole required to acquire a new one after the decease of his previous beast. They entered the cottage and Gunyon's wife happily served them a brewed beverage outside the requisite hours. As they sipped their tea, they discussed many things and Aido felt himself enjoying life and real companionship for the first time in living memory.

"So what about this Hero of yours?" asked Gunyon as he munched on his fifteenth cucumber sandwich.

Aido said with a mouthful of cookie, "what about him?"

Gunyon said, "what makes The Powers That Be think one is like to rise from such a place as Happytown?"

Aido swallowed his cookie and said, "the name alone would suffice, but there are certain vague writings from an extinct people group native to the very south of the world that suggests as much, but as I said, the Prophecy is vague and it could be any of ten or twenty different villages and this may not even be the Appointed Time. That is the problem with Prophecy, it is often rather vague and fulfills itself often without us knowing until long after the fact. But just to be on the safe side, they are taking all precautions."

"How do you go about finding a Hero?" asked Gunyon with a smile.

Aido chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then replied, "we will of course monitor all known widows with only sons, step-families containing an ill-tempered woman, orphans raised by obscure or cruel relatives, and anyone who has ever found a child of unknown pedigree on their doorstep. Of course the current management strategy for all such High Risk Families has been implemented to prevent just such an occurrence. None of these Families at High Risk of Hero Production or Prophecy Fulfillment are left to go hungry, become poor, or otherwise grow discontent with their lot in life. If there is no discontent or need, or so the theory goes, there is unlikely to be a Hero produced or a Prophecy fulfilled."

"An interesting theory," said Gunyon as he chewed, "has it worked?"

Aido shrugged his shoulders, "before my promotion to Investigator I worked mostly in the Laboratory of Statistics and Numerical Data which compiles numbers on Everything, even on things that have no numerical data, but there was very little convincing evidence that any of their preventive protocols either helped or hindered Prophecy/Hero attainment. In reality, such occurrences are so rare that it would take a millennium to get enough data to even begin calculating whether their programs are effective or not. Of course, no one really cares if a bureaucracy is effective so long as it seems to be doing something."

Gunyon chewed on this revelation and another sandwich, before saying, "can we improvise our own Hero?"

Aido sat back and said thoughtfully, "it certainly isn't done that way, at least if you are going by the Book, but I am so tired of 'The Book of All Regulations Pertaining to Decent and Orderly Civilian Life' that I think we should, just to spite them all!"

Gunyon nodded, "very well, we will."

They stayed up much of the night (quite against the Treaty on Reasonable and Necessary Nocturnal Activities) discussing their plans to implement a Hero and/or fulfill a Prophecy. As they made up their lists, discussed necessary attributes, and inventoried equipment, Aido said in surprise, "it seems my training to prevent Hero actualization has actually equipped me with all of the requisite skills."

Gunyon smiled, "and out of Happytown a Hero shall arise. Prophecy fulfilled! Excellent! Now all we need is a ragtag band of followers and we shall be ready to shake the Pillars of Order."

Aido said hopefully, "your company of so-called Freemen?"

Gunyon shook his head, "a few might be interested or willing to assist in our caper, but we need the seediest, most scandalous, and underrated band of cutthroats this world can supply."

Aido nodded, "ah, you suggest a raid on the Facility for the Containment of Socially Awkward Individuals." Gunyon smiled in anticipation of what was to come.

They went to bed and slept well into the day (violating the Compact on Acceptable Awakenings) and after a scrumptious breakfast that had nothing whatsoever to do with the Highly Recommended and Otherwise Required Guidelines for Food Preparation and Consumption, they went about plotting their raid. They made their way out of the forest in the twilight, knowing no true government official would bother being out of doors at that hour. They stayed overnight with another Freeman who lived on the far border of the forest and set out before first light the next morning. For three days they traveled as far and hard as they could each day without risking exposure by too much exertion. They arrived outside the Facility of CSAI in time for the Afternoon Refreshment Period and had to wait for admittance until the Guard for Security and Safety had finished his allotted Refreshment. The bored and disgruntled looking man in his fading years studied their paperwork, stared at them, returned to the paperwork, whistled tunelessly, and then resumed staring at them. Finally he said in irritation, "seems like everything is in order Investigator, you may proceed with your prisoner."

Gunyon nodded grimly and touched Aido in the small of the back with his swordpoint, grumbling, "move along scum." They both contained an exuberant smile that their subterfuge was working so well, of course it helped that Aido was truly an Investigator with a real Department and that Gunyon was a renowned scribe who could copy, forge, or create any document or handwriting desired.

As Aido was by now a well-known criminal, it was quite reasonable to present him as the newest inmate of the Facility. They wound deeper into the complex, passing each checkpoint and guard station with ease until they were in the very heart of the detention area. The day was wearing out as they passed the last checkpoint and Gunyon asked after the keys, that he might lock up his captive for the night. The guard yawned and said, "it is one minute to close pal, whatever you do afterhours is no concern of mine but I won't be held liable for overtime. Take the keys, I'm going home." He handed over the gigantic key ring and left for the night, leaving the pair alone with the inmates.

It took several hours to free the captives, as there were countless keys to try in each lock, but finally the prisoners were loose and they began discussing strategy. It was an easy matter to capture the skeleton crew that guarded the facility at night and lock them up in the prisoners' stead. It was many months before the incarcerated guards were able to convince the morning crew that they had been illegally detained, but finally the paperwork made it through all the proper channels and the guards were released with only a severe scolding. The morning crew thought it odd that the number and faces of the prisoners had changed overnight but as there was no official paper trail on the matter, no one wanted to get in trouble or take responsibility, so nothing was said about it until the proper paperwork was completed, by which time our Heroes were long since gone.

Most of the detainees went home, as there were far too many of them to go a'questing, but there were half a dozen that stayed to help. Aido studied their motley crew with appreciation; here were rebels indeed. One man had green hair that clashed with his favorite purple shirt, another really liked liver and onions, there was a lady who was overly fond of cats, Robert insisted on being called Bob, there was a repeat jaywalker (crosswalks hadn't been invented yet), and a man who had accidentally cut the tags off of a mattress he did not own. Few were the criminals in the realm more vile than these, let The Powers That Be tremble, for the Shakers of Empire had emerged (yes, the Nomenclature people are at it again). They easily made their way out of the Containment Facility after raiding the parking garage and locker room for their own personal benefit and went out to, well, shake the Empire.

So how do eight people make an Empire tremble and bring an overbearing bureaucracy to its knees? Easy! Destroy the Paperwork, for if it does not exist on paper, it does not exist, at least in a bureaucracy. So off they went, to interfere with the lifeblood of this bungling, lumbering giant and who better to aid them than the Minions of Government themselves. Aido thought the tree obsessed people over at the Arboreal Comptroller would be just the folks to get on their side, for if it were well nigh impossible to get paper, one could not have paperwork, and no paperwork meant no bureaucracy. So our zany friends arrayed themselves in varicolored splendor and did not bath or shave for several weeks. Once they appeared to be quite friendly with the earth and all therein, they wandered over to the Main Office of the Arboreal Comptroller and made their plea. The Administrative Assistant was quite perplexed by these hippy-wannabes and did the only thing possible in a confusing or overwhelming situation: she delegated. So it was that they passed from one office to another, from one flunky's hands to a lackey down the hall. Finally they arrived in the Office of the Arboreal Comptroller himself and happily extolled their plan of saving the nation's precious forests from the horrid fate of wanton waste and negligence that was rampant throughout the realm. The man nodded, ordered his personal aides to present themselves, and soon interrogated them as to the abuse of the obviously vanishing woodlands.

The minions agreed to the last man (what else are minions for?) that there was certainly a problem and only drastic and instantaneous action could preserve some small scrap of the once great forests from total annihilation. One went so far as to proclaim that his son's third grade science teacher had complained the other day that they seemed to be cutting down too many trees lately, at least more than she remembered as a girl. This smote the hearts of all those listening sore and even lent scientific credence to the Theory of Arboreal Apocalypse. The Comptroller had heard enough; he would act immediately.

The Service for the Collection and Distribution of Information: Useful and Otherwise, was summoned to report on this horrifying discovery and soon the whole nation was in a near panic at looming paper shortages, rampant deforestation, and the resulting air pollution, acid rain, and erosion that would no doubt make the entire world uninhabitable for at least a thousand years, give or take an Officially Obscure Holiday. So it was that Drastic Measures were taken and the forests were saved and the masses appeased. Paper became scarce and terribly expensive until someone decided to import it from less prudent nations, thus restoring paper to the peasantry. Of course, during the paper shortage the entire government collapsed due to lack of paperwork and most of its officials were forced to seek sanctuary in the nation's universities and on the professional speaking circuit, where they remain to this day.

While the economy suffered a grievous recession in the public sector, private industry and productivity flourished (even without paper) as never before, and for the first time in history, people without a government job could actually make a living. Eventually things settled down, paper was restored to the nation, and the government returned, but in a more modest and humble form, which was the only kind now acceptable to the temporarily freed plebs who, once drunk with the wine of freedom, could not again taste of the moonshine of bureaucracy. As for our heroes, each was honored with his or her own Official Obscure Holiday but after the Paper Revolution, only the Service for the Distribution of Written Communications officially observed said Holidays, but then, no government is perfect!

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea

Excerpt from 'Of Tea... and Things'

There she stood in her second best dress on the front steps of her husband's marvelous and imposing townhouse, clutching the most disreputable portmanteau in the staff's possession, or at least the most scandalous specimen that could be procured on short notice. She would not even have been allowed to keep the dress, had it not been considered quite improper to allow her back inside to change into something less grand. She had never imagined when she had stepped out that morning to make a call upon a certain influential social matron that she would be facing such a crisis upon her return, had she known that to be the case, she at least would have worn her Best Dress, a scandal in its own right certainly, but one easily overlooked in the even deeper scandal that had washed over her with all the rage and suddenness of a tsunami. Of course she had never worn the Best Dress, no one did, not unless the Queen herself happened to stop by unannounced for tea! Her current surprise was no less had that been the shock awaiting her but it was certainly far less pleasant, or so she assumed, never having had tea with Her Majesty, she could not be quite certain, but she thought it was at least probable.

She tried to plead again with the dour faced butler but he only shook his head grimly and pointed harshly down the road, as if she were naught but a beggar woman squatting upon the doorstep rather than his mistress of a decade. Former mistress it seemed. Said the appalled housekeeper, from behind the grim brute of a butler who seemed suddenly all brawny shoulders, a feature she had never before paid much heed, "move along miss, it would not do to make a scene."

With a final sigh, her shoulders slumping and her elegant train trailing dejectedly after her, Iris descended the proud and fashionable steps, wondering what the society papers would say on the morrow and how many hidden eyes were watching from behind seemingly vacant windows. There was no sense arguing, it was just the way things were. She had forgotten, well she knew this day might come, but she had hoped something would happen to spare her such an ignomious fate, that her husband's fondness for her would somehow protect her, that he might forget, but it seemed that he had not and no amount of love, however inordinate, could make up for the indignity she had caused him, the insult was unforgivable and imperiling his family line as she had was perhaps the greatest indignity of all, if not a crime in and of itself.

'Miss,' the word haunted her, she who had only that morning stepped out as Mrs. Iris Andromeda Baren Candor Donaldo Eveleff Garand Hatt Indigo...Zebula. Twenty-six surnames, one for each letter of the alphabet, outlining her husband's extensive, impressive, and most ancient lineage, but now she was simply 'miss.' She opened the bag hopefully, for perhaps her future lay therein, but there was nothing within, save a few sentimental knickknacks she had brought with her upon her most fortuitous marriage. Once fabulously wealthy, her material worth was now as diminished as her name. She had a few coins about her person, a surplus of lace handkerchiefs, and a fan, but nothing else save the clothes on her back and the hat on her head. Perhaps she could still return home, she doubted it, but it was the only thing she could think of to spare herself from an even less desirable fate.

She raised a hand to hail a cab, a thing no proper lady would do, for that is what one had servants for, so it took no little time to actually attract that attention of a driver and get him to pull his overworked nag over to the side of the pavement whereon her former ladyship stood. They assumed she was having a fit or communicating with some other personage or fainting or something appropriately ladylike, not trying to get the attention of such a loathsome creature as a cabby. But at last someone did dare to thwart all common reason and social propriety and pulled over to see what the perplexing dame was up to, but not before a rather scandalous looking person, who made Iris's skin crawl even at a distance, sidled up to her most knowingly and said in very familiar tones, "there's but one thing for you to do miss, you're still a pretty-ish thing, and don't you worry, we'll be waiting when you finally resign yourself to reality." He winked at her in a most reprehensible fashion and then slouched off rather too smugly for anyone's comfort but his own.

Iris shuddered in revulsion as she climbed into the cab, gave her address, and tried not to think as they rolled off in the direction of her childhood home. She couldn't, absolutely not! But if her parents likewise disowned her, it would be her only option. But no, they wouldn't, they couldn't! But they did. The cab drew up in a very unfashionable part of town and she paid him his fare, all she had left and with nothing extra for his trouble. She couldn't tell if he was angry, scandalized, or seemed to understand her plight, so blank were his face and eyes, the result of a lifetime of carrying to and fro those whose business was none of his. The vehicle rattled off and she prepared to face her parents, hoping against hope that they would not see things as all of society did, that this scandal was none of her own doing, but they undoubtedly would.

Her father was a craftsman, he worked with his hands, and while he made a good living for his large family, such a family was not likely to be the source of a bride for one of society's elite; it just wasn't done. So it was quite the fairy tale to those who knew the family, and quite the scandal to everyone else, when his Lordship had chosen Iris to be his bride. It was the habit of some of the great lords' sons and certain wealthy young bucks to go 'slumming' amid the lower classes as both a form of amusement and a means of temporally escaping the stuffy and inflexible world into which they had been born. They'd don 'rough' clothes and attend a public ball in the less affluent parts of town and dance the night away with many a miller's daughter and tradesman's niece. It was in just such an environment that Iris met her husband, well former husband, and he was so taken with her that he insisted on marrying her.

Many insisted that he would one day rue his choice, mostly those with eligible daughters of their own, and today seemed to be proving them right. She was neither rich nor powerful nor did she know anyone who was, but her family was respectable, if middle class, but most importantly, she came of a large and healthy family. Her mother had been prolific in the production of children and he had no doubt that it was a trait his admired lady would likewise possess. So they were married, much to the delight of everyone who had any care or love for the happiness of those involved, but all others were appalled, most especially his peers and relations. Gradually they got used to the idea and the scandalized talk and impolite remarks vanished into the background as other, more interesting scandals arose to replace them, but they would no doubt spring back to life after today's little affair.

It was exactly ten years and nine months to the day since she wed what she thought was the love of her life, but here she stood outside the door of her childhood home, hoping that her parents would welcome her home once more. But the unemotional maid that answered the door did not look like a bearer of gladsome tidings, said she in a scandalized tone, "please come round to the back, miss, the front door is only for proper visitors."

Ugh! At least they answered the door, perhaps they just wanted to avoid more public scandal, best to keep this affair away from prying eyes in any case. She hustled to the door that opened off a side alley into the kitchens, hoping to find peace at last, but she was merely handed a few table scraps for her trouble and told that the master of the house, though not unkindly, was not prone to humor beggars who repeatedly accosted his servants. Beggar?! But in truth that's what she was, she had dared marry into one of the Great Families, and in failing to uphold her part of the bargain, after the legally prescribed period, she was cast back into the street, and having thus embarrassed herself and all the Greats so thoroughly, her family dared not offer her succor, lest they seem complicit in the eyes of all society in this most unfortunate affair. There were also yet children at home and the presence of such a specter lurking about the house would undoubtedly affect their chances of marrying well, or at all. To them and all society, it was as if she had never been. She wasn't even considered as one dead, one who at least had lived and would be missed, rather she no longer existed and never had.

What was left to her? She considered the filthy and disreputable man who had accosted her, almost as dreadful as her handbag, but she shuddered in disgust, she'd rather starve! Staring down bleakly at her meager handful of scraps, the only legacy her parents would bequeath her, she knew she very well might. But it would be far better to die an honest, though wretched death, than to play the harlot for her bread. But was there no other choice? She sighed heavily as she slunk out of the alley, little heeding where she was going but knowing she could no longer remain where she was, all of her attention was focused inward on the disaster that was now her life.

It wasn't her fault, or so she hoped, she really didn't mean to be barren, she came of fruitful stock on both sides, but in those ten years and nine months, she had never given her husband even the hope of a child. But as far as society saw it, she had deceived him, wasted precious time in which he might have been fathering children, endangered the stability of the family line, for what would happen if he died without leaving children? She did have to smile, in a grim and ironic sort of way, that she had had ten years and nine months, just in case she happened to conceive on the last day of the prescribed ten years, you never could tell, but as she had not produced an heir in the final nine months either, she was unceremoniously cast from her home and society, driven from safety and security like a common thief. And now her only hope was to become a harlot, this too elicited that grimly amused smile, for what safer woman for such a job? There being so slight a chance of producing bastard children and the lady herself being cast out of all decent society, in desperate need of both sustenance and protection.

Better to face the Wilds than suffer such a fate! She stood on the edge of town, her unwitting wanderings having brought her thus, near one of the great gates that opened in the wall surrounding the city and allowed traffic in and out during daylight hours, but which were firmly shut every evening to keep Things out. What Things, she had never rightly heard, it wasn't proper for her young female mind to be apprised of such Things, but rest assured, between the Wall and the Watch, she'd not need to worry about any of them. She just needed to focus on finding a decent husband. Well, that and having a superfluity of children. She had succeeded quite well in the first case but failed abysmally in the second. With a heavy sigh, she marched straight out the gate and into the wide world without and none dared stop her, for though a lady of breeding NEVER left the Walls without a proper escort, it was even more taboo to interfere with such, no matter how improper seemed her intentions.

She had travelled abroad several times with her husband upon various errands and visits, but she had never left town alone and afoot before, certainly not as a girl, for even people of her father's lowly social status had Standards. But she was quite thoroughly disgusted with Standards and for a time relished the odd looks shot her way by the various farmers, tradesmen, and servants that passed her by upon their own errands. She found it quite exhilarating at first, to be thwarting social conventions so thoroughly; cast her out would they?! Well, she might just as well spurn them! She'd leave of her own accord and that was that. The leaving part was easy, it was what was to be done afterwards that terrified her enough that the ratty man's offer didn't seem so bad upon recollection, but she chastised herself as a milk-hearted sniveler and kept marching further away from the only life she had ever known, but just what was she speeding towards?

Things. Oh why oh why would they not tell her about Things?! Not knowing was probably worse than the most horrid truth, then she must resort to making things up and a young girl's imagination could be quite gruesome, likely more so than the actual reality. Well, this was her big chance to find out. And whatever her fate, it couldn't be worse than harlotry, not that she knew much about that either, just enough to encourage her to produce a baby or ten lest it be all her future. She started to cast back within her mind, seeking stories, rumors, gossip, lies, anything she could remember of life outside the city, beyond the town, things her brothers discovered in their studies, overheard snippets of the servants' gossip, gran's fireside tales, the talk amongst her father's friends over their pipes when she was thought long abed.

Of course she had been taught, as all decent and proper young ladies were, about the Old World, and the Ancient Days, of all the horrible and uncouth things that had happened before civilization and decency and Standards, when the world was wild and young and wide, when people were the myth and all sorts of uncouth folk roamed the earth. But all that happened in another age, another time, probably in another place, for nothing very interesting ever happened in or near the city, at least that she had ever heard of, at least not interesting to her, she didn't consider the latest social scandal intriguing in the least, which may be why she never quite fit in to Society, children or not.

As the day began to fade into evening, she allowed herself a brief respite from her introspection to take the lay of the land and consider what might be her best option for the imminent night. The fields and pasturelands and neat little coppice woods that had straddled the road for the entirety of the journey suddenly gave way before her to a wood seemingly as dark and expansive as the night sky that seemed intent upon devouring all that remained of the dying day. The road itself skirted this impressive forest by a wide margin, continuing on its prim and proper way, seemingly contemptuous of the wild and unkempt country that bordered one side. Well, thought she, Society and their Standards have utterly cast me out, why should I tread their roads and prescribed paths any longer? So with a shrug of defiance, she stepped off the smug little road and clove her way into the murky and trackless wood.

The first thing she noticed was that her fashionable garb, though quite suited to the trackless wastes of societal gatherings, was quite a hindrance in actual trackless wastes. The second was that it was quite dark, as if one had foolishly locked oneself inside a wardrobe. Unable any longer to ascertain what was before her, and tripping most inelegantly over some branch or rock, and even uncertain where the edge of the forest now lay, she could do little but sit down and cry, for at last her heart had caught up with her mind, originally numbed by the shock of it all, she had been able to act almost dispassionately, but out here, at last, her sorrow and fears overtook her. Of course proper ladies were not allowed to cry, but as she was no longer of that ilk, she unashamedly wept her little heart out until at last she passed blissfully into unknowing sleep.

"She did what?!" said the astonished, though otherwise thoroughly tidy, man in wonder.

"She vanished into that dratted Wood, sir," said the equally flabbergasted henchman, adding quickly, "I offered her the usual and assumed she'd come begging the moment she discovered just how limited her options were. I never took her for the outdoorsy type."

"If she was just some common trollop," began the distinguished looking man, dressed to the height of current fashion, as he pensively paced the room, "it would be of no matter if she did choose to so lose herself and be set upon by Things. No one would care or notice, but this chit was special! I had a double-sided list as long as my arm of gentlemen callers wanting to make her acquaintance. It is not often such a scandal rocks Society and when it does, our men of Fashion should be able to take advantage of it. She's costing me money, lots of money, and worse, notoriety! Her reputation alone is worth more than five of my most talented ladies combined." He glared at the hapless minion as if this whole fiasco was his fault, "have we no options?"

"You know no one who goes into that Wood ever returns," stuttered the terrified henchman, "at least in a recognizable form."

"True," sighed the dandy, "too true, you should have just kidnapped her outright."

"Knowing what we do now, I would have, but I like to give them the chance to despair first," smiled the lackey wickedly, "it makes their final surrender and despair all the sweeter and seems to even make them grateful to us for saving them from utter ruin."

"Why can't she just be reasonable like every other girl in the realm?" mused the cad in a gentleman's garb.

"There were whispers you know, sir," said the flunky in dubious and hushed tones.

"Yes," slurred that non-gentleman, "and if true, perhaps she would have been a most troublesome acquisition indeed. But was there truly any proof that she did, indeed," he paused cautiously, as if to ensure they were truly alone before continuing in a quieter voice, as he uttered the astonishing word, "read?"

"I managed to speak to several of her former staff, both in her husband's and her father's house, and they agreed that she did in fact do just that," said the sub-villain, not daring even to say the dastardly deed aloud.

"It is not," mused the senior villain, "that a lady cannot be allowed to read, but it is her choice of literature that is of the utmost import. You are certain it was not just flimsy novels and the society papers?"

"Nay milord," said the henchman grimly, "it was books, solid and heavy books, any she could lay hand to, not that it was an easy thing in her social circumstances, but they say she found rather creative ways to go about it, vulgar chit!"

"Does she know something we do not about that forest or Things?" asked he.

"I doubt it sir," said the henchman boldly, "for even the most well read of men knows little of that cursed Wood, and whatever means she used to contrive access to a book, it is very unlikely she would come across anything helpful in that regard when men with ready access to such information know nothing."

"Quite true," said the non-gentleman in growing good humor, "perhaps she would have been quite an encumbrance to own, a pity, but perhaps it is for the best after all."

While Iris could see nothing going on around her, not only because she was sleeping as one dead, but also because that peculiar Wood was draped in an unnatural night, that did not mean things weren't going on. While all the human folk in those parts thought this particular Wood haunted, cursed, forsaken, et cetera, it was really none of those things, for it was always near to bursting with activity of various sorts and tenanted by some of the most upstanding individuals imaginable, though perhaps they did not recognize the Standards as holy writ, which was probably the main argument against calling such folk civilized, they were quite civilized in their own particular way, one which Society might very well have called uncouth, could they ever glimpse such a spectacle of course. But as they couldn't, all were kindly spared that sort of unpleasantness.

"A lady?!" said a very astonished voice, lurking in the shrubbery near where said lady reposed in quite un-Standard fashion.

"Quite," chuckled a second voice in reply.

"Of all the strange and wonderful things one might glimpse in this peculiar Wood," mused the first, "this is one spectacle I never thought to see."

"Anything is possible here," said the second voice in ill-suppressed amusement.

"Anything out of the ordinary," agreed the first, "but such a spectacle is quite ordinary in the outer world."

"But it would be a peculiar scene here and thus one would think it quite possible, along with all the other impossible scenes one might certainly witness herein," continued the second, no longer hiding his mirth.

"I suppose your reasoning must be sound," said the first with a shake of his head, "if not here, then certainly somewhere." He glanced back at the sleeping lady, "but it seems so mundane."

"Again you are stating the obvious, my friend," smiled the second, "please stop!"

"But then what shall we speak of?" quoth the first with a wry grin.

"Now who is the one being mundane?" laughed the second outright.

"True," said the first ruefully, "I sound like some oblivious gentleman at a societal function where we can speak nothing but the blatantly obvious."

"The lady's presence is corrupting you already," said the second in feigned horror, "what will happen to the balance of our acquaintance?"

"Dreadful thought indeed!" agreed the first, but lapsing into sudden silence as the lady in question stirred.

"Who is there?" queried she, trying to sound valiant and unafraid but managing only to sound like a lonely kitten mewing forlornly in a dark alley. Iris glanced about her futilely, all about her hidden in mist and shadow. At least the utter black of night had given way to a twilit world of murky shadow but she was still nearly as blind, not even able to see her feet amidst the brume, but she was quite certain she had been wakened by voices.

The first looked at the second in question, he only shrugged and stepped forward out of the swirling mists, that the lady might know what it was that lurked unseen just beyond sight. She gasped to see that she was not alone in this surreal world, but as she had been anticipating Things, two gentlemen dressed in quality but conservative evening dress were not exactly what she had been expecting, seeing her quickly hidden look of disappointment, the first said to the second, "see, she was thinking to discover something less mundane in this peculiar Wood as well." Upon which, all exchanged Standard greetings, before the first spoke once more, "how come you here madam and may we be of any assistance?"

She fought valiantly but the tears still came, said she through her sobs and hiccups, "I am quite at a loss, gentlemen, for I've been Forsaken by kith and kin, cast out for the most heinous of offenses. I wonder that you would even deign speak with me."

The first man could not suppress a grin, "we don't often get to read the society papers, milady. You will be happy to know that your society's standard is not ours."

She blinked at him as if he had said he routinely employed an ostrich in lieu of a carriage horse, said she in some befuddlement, "what then is your Standard? I know I am Outcast, but if you are equally so, have you not turned bandit or outlaw or something equally uncivilized?"

"Your society certainly would not approve of our various goings on, madam," assured the second, his own grin as wide as his fellow's, "but we are far from lawless men. Indeed, we cling to a standard even higher and older than that to which you refer."

She smiled sadly at these poor benighted men, lost so long in the dark and mist that they must truly have lost all sense of decency and propriety, not to mention physical direction, but then again, it was the Standards that had proclaimed she must be cast from all decent company and protections for an act which was not willfully done and was in nowise her fault and said that her former kith and kin must have nothing whatsoever to do with her ever again whilst these respectable seeming gentlemen were at least treating her as a real and valuable person.

Said she in polite ignorance, "I suppose there must be other Standards in the world, those that govern conduct say in former times or distant places, perhaps it is of this you speak?"

"Something like that indeed, my lady," said the first with a grandiose bow, "but come, what crime or perception thereof has driven you so far from home?"

They both blinked in wonder at her brief tale, said the second, "and how is it you chose to flee to this peculiar Wood, whose reputation may be even worse among fashionable folk than even the flesh dealers that offered you succor?"

"I've never heard aught of this Wood, either good or ill," said she simply, "women are not told such things. I've tried to read up on things, not Things mind you, but anything I could lay hands on, but even that study was limited, for it is thought quite uncouth for a woman, particularly one of my standing, to know things, especially about Things." She brightened significantly at this, "now that I am a woman of ill-repute, will you tell me about the Things?"

"What things?" queried the first in confusion.

"You know!" said she a bit abashedly, "the reason the city has walls, the Things they are meant to keep out!"

The men exchanged a rather amused grin, at which she frowned, thinking their mirth sprang from her ignorance, but the second reassured her, "I am not sure why they built the walls if they think to repel Things from within this Wood, that is utterly ridiculous, but perhaps your folk do not understand that or it makes them feel better regardless, but either way, if the walls were meant to keep your folk safe from Things within the Wood, they are sorely mistaken."

"I see," said she rather lamely, but perked up as she considered, "still, if they are afraid of Things, there must be a reason and I would dearly love to learn it."

"I am afraid what your folk fear and the actual reality of the situation are two very different things, milady," said the first with a regretful shake of his head, continuing swiftly as she tried to interject eagerly, "and some of those truths cannot be imparted to you, for either the world is not ready or is forbidden from knowing or even we know not the truth of the matter."

She shut her eagerly gaping mouth and merely broached a disappointed, "oh," feeling again a little girl whose father had just told her serious books were not within the proper domain of womenfolk.

"That and there is not time enough between now and the end of days to thoroughly discuss such a topic," added the second hurriedly.

"So you are saying," mused she, "that though much must yet remain hidden from my ravenously curious mind, there are still enough facts of interest to keep me thoroughly occupied for the rest of my born days?"

"Certainly miss," grinned the first, "the better question would be, what do you need to know, what would be the most important topic to begin your education?"

She stood and brushed the residual brush from her hopelessly rumpled dress, touched her now feral hair with an appalled hand, only to discover her stylish hat was also missing, and said in resignation, "I suppose one's wardrobe and appearance are not of the utmost import within this wild wood of yours? If the residents hereof are not at all concerned with mortal walls, I would assume physical appearance would also be of little import?" Both men offered her a smart half bow of affirmation, their eyes sparkling in delight at her quick assessment of the situation and seemingly innate understanding thereof. She glanced around morosely at the unpromising gloom and asked, "and I suppose what I can see of this dismal place is hardly to be used as a measure to judge the Wood as a whole or even in part?"

"Indeed!" agreed the second happily, "you have a fine grasp upon the situation, for having just arrived and being..." He trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to state the obvious in a delicate and politic manner.

She grinned at him, quite like an excited and unabashed child, "being a former society matron?"

"Quite," seconded the first.

"I suppose the most important matter to determine is what is to come of me?" she gazed at her interlocutors earnestly.

"I suppose we cannot just throw her back?" grinned the second in a most impish fashion.

At this, the lady gaped unwittingly like the metaphorical fish to which she had just been compared, little realizing that she had likewise committed a faux pas of vast egregiousness along with her companion: that of comparing a lady to an aquatic animal, it just was not done, at least not in proper circles, but as she glanced about once more, she was reminded just how far removed she now was from those very circles and decided to let the perceived insult pass unremarked, whereat the first came magnanimously to her rescue with, "you shouldn't compare a lady to a fish, my friend, not on any account."

"I suppose not," agreed the second, "but our quandary still remains, bad metaphors aside."

"It does at that," frowned the first pensively, eyeing the lady, he asked, "and what shall come of you madam?"

"I haven't a clue," said she morosely, "I was hoping you could tell me!"

"The outer world has utterly forsaken you," mused the second aloud, "yet you have no official place or standing within the Wood."

"Must I?" queried she, all curiosity.

The first nodded grimly, "aye madam, for without it you would find yourself in grave peril, for there are many factions and an ever shifting balance of power and most of the denizens have little love for mortals. At best they would ignore you, but there are many who would do far worse for the temerity you have shown in violating their Wood."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied them anew, "yet you are not afraid to go gallivanting about as it pleases you?" They both smiled at this, an irksome gesture, reminiscent of a smug and mysterious cat, with just as much hope of prying a satisfactory answer out of them as to the significance thereof. Sighed she in obvious disdain, "fine, keep your secrets! I can only then assume that I cannot safely depend upon physical appearance as a concrete sign of anything in this odd place?"

"You are quite correct, milady," agreed the first, "hope may be found within a monstrous guise and danger in the most innocuous."

"So you are not two gentlemen of means and leisure who have happened upon me in my hour of need?" asked she.

"We have happened upon you in your hour of need, quite providentially if I may add," said the second.

"And we are certainly Gentlemen, at least as the term should be defined, though not as the word is realized in your society," added the First.

"And we are certainly not men of leisure," chuckled the Second.

Added the First, "but we certainly have the means to accomplish the necessary."

"So what is to come of me?" asked she plaintively.

"What are your wishes and desires madam?" retorted the First.

"I want to belong somewhere," said she pensively, "to not be judged by things beyond my control. To be valued for what I am, rather than for what I am not or what I own or to whom I was born or for what I might do."

"The search of every quivering soul," nodded the Second.

"Can I find it?" asked she, hoping against hope, "here or anywhere?"

"It is quite attainable," smiled the First, "if you truly desire it."

"I do!" said she, "who doesn't?"

"Everyone desires it of course," said the First, "but most prefer to attempt to attain it in their own way, by their own power or cunning or strength, but it can only be attained one way."

"The Standards?" asked she nervously.

"Is your society's attempt at attaining it, yes," nodded the Second sagely, "but it is not the true Way."

"Good!" said she with a sigh of relief, "for I've tried it and found it extremely vexatious and thoroughly wanting." Her eyes narrowed suddenly, "how can you be so certain there is only one Way? That sounds rather myopic and closed minded if there are as many different cultures, tribes, traditions, and peoples in the world and even beyond it as you imply?"

"What does your society think of any that don't hold their Standard dear?" countered the First.

"We think them uncivilized heathens," said she at once, narrowing her eyes in thought and adding, "which makes me wonder if the truly civilized way to look at the matter is to see that perhaps there are many roads to the same destination?"

"And what would happen if you found a road and started traveling thereupon, assuming it must bear you wherever you had a mind to go regardless of whither it truly went?" asked the Second.

"That is ridiculous," giggled she, "a road can only go betwixt the places it is built; my wishes mean nothing."

"Should not the same be true of attempting to attain a certain end?" queried the first, "If you wish to obtain milk, one does not approach an obliging rock or climb a tree. Your society is right in its assumption that their Standard must be seen as the only way to achieve their desired end or chaos and confusion would result, even if they are wrong about the means thereof. They have the right idea but the wrong road."

"Humph," grunted she in disgust, realizing how much of a waste her life had been up until this very moment, but brightening added, "so how is one to attain the proper end?"

"Take the right road," said the First cryptically.

"Show me this way, then," urged she.

"It will cost you everything, milady," said the Second quietly.

"I have nothing left," countered she.

"Materially speaking, perhaps," agreed the First, but adding, "but what of your hopes, dreams, fears, doubts, time, preferences, prejudices, opinions, and physical being, all that makes up your heart, mind, body, and soul?"

"I must become nothing?" said she in growing alarm.

The Second shook his head minutely and said quietly, so much so that she had to strain to hear him, "we are nothing, or rather, each of us is accounted as nothing when compared to that which we seek. It is none of our doing, we come naked and empty handed, filthy and alone, disgusting beggars with nothing to recommend us."

She was trembling, whether in fear or anticipation, perhaps both, she scarcely knew, but licking her lips, she said just as quietly, "I am utterly wretched, beneath these fancy rags lurks nothing of worth or substance, yet you say it need not be so?"

"Aye, milady," smiled the First in growing anticipation, "in forsaking what we think we want, only then can we discover that which we truly need."

"Then show me," said she eagerly. The two gentlemen exchanged one of those maddeningly mystifying looks, bowed graciously to the lady, and then the world spun into blackness, dark as starless night.

