 
### The Greylands: Volume I

### Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Susan Skylark

Revised 2018

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Table of Contents:

The Road:

Part I

Part II

Part III

Beyond the Mountains

Other Books by this Author

Sample Chapters of 'The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I'

'Captain of Shadow,' Sample Chapters

Sample story from 'Over the Hills and Far Away'

Excerpt from 'The Greylands: Volume VI'

Sample story from 'Legends of the Brethren'

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea ('Of Tea...and Things' excerpt)

'On Princesses: A Foible,' excerpt

### **Author's Note:** Though themes and names may be similar, there is no relationship between the following stories. Each is independent and stands alone.

### The Road:

Part I:

Prince Bryant sat in the common room with two sons of the greater lords of Ithamar; they all had older brothers and very little chance of ever taking their fathers' places of import and influence unless their elder brothers succumbed to some mysterious illness or fell in battle. Thus they were relegated to the privileged but socially obscure branch upon which they perched. Much was expected of them by their noble parents, but they would win little glory, wealth, or renown for anything they did, though their elder brothers seemed to accrue acclaim simply by getting out of bed of a morning. It was a seductive glue that bound them together: jealousy of their elder brothers and anger at fate for placing them in such an insignificant position. Most nights they could be found drowning their woes among the city's many inns and drinking houses. When they gathered in such a place, the natives inevitably relocated, so as not to find themselves in an awkward confrontation with such important and often drunk personages; the consequences of such an experience never favored the peasants. The boys would drink their fill and complain even more of the hardships of the world while the innkeeper listened and shook his head, thinking they knew little of hardship and nothing of real life, at least not life as experienced by the vast majority of humanity throughout history.

Ithamar was not the worst of countries in those days in its treatment of its peasants but the taxes were high and common men had few rights in a conflict of interest with the nobility. So they drank and complained and bonded over their seeming sorrow. Then they would stumble home drunk, fall into bed while servants cleaned up the mess, and begin anew their tedious lives on the morrow, succored only by the hope of the coming night.

Bryant's father the King, his elder brother, his mother, his numerous aunts, his grandmother, and everyone else in the Kingdom with the nerve, often scolded him about his dissolute habits but he ignored them or scoffed or yelled back, all to no avail. Why did he not lead his father's soldiers as his younger brother did or marry the daughter of some foreign King? Could he not learn something from all the philosophers and sages in the Kingdom and be of use to his father and brother in matters of state? Could he not quietly disappear to his country estates and hunt contentedly in obscurity and not cause a scene? Could he do anything but embarrass all his nearest relations? Deep within he found the whole thing rather amusing, if only for the consternation it caused his elders: irritating all his nearest relations seemed the only joy he had left in life. On the outside he was all strut and show but within he yearned for meaning and direction and purpose. He was a boat adrift at sea without anchor, rudder, or sail while a storm raged around him with no end in sight. At least he felt as if he had something to look forward to in his nightly carousing, though he always came away feeling small and empty and alone as he wandered home to bed in the small hours of the morning.

Dark were his thoughts that night, darker than his usual wont, for he felt if he continued to do nothing he would soon do something drastic, whether to himself or others he did not know. He said to his companions, "I am tired of this tedious life we live. Let us do something great or terrible, that we might end the tedium and do something to be remembered; even if we do not succeed, it is better to die in the attempt rather than die in obscurity. Shall we be famous or infamous?" His friends laughed drunkenly, for the night was far gone and much wine had passed their lips.

He continued, "as you will not choose I shall have the honor then. Let us be infamous! There are many failed adventurers and heroes and none know their names. I say let us be remembered in infamy, for a villain never truly dies though he live only in legend. We could be bandit kings but why stoop to such a level when we can reach far higher and take what fate herself has denied us? I say we reach for the crown itself my friends! Let us supplant my brother and even my father the King!"

He continued to draw heavily from the mug of nameless liquid before him and was lost for many minutes in his treasonous expostulations. Whether he was serious or not, his friends could not tell but his words greatly disturbed them. They continued to listen and ape interest but the plot (what little of it there was, it was mostly grand words and misty aspirations) had quickly sobered them even as it chilled them to the bone. They were as empty inside as the prince but where they were content to enjoy all the privileges their rank could bestow, he had long ago failed to be pleased by such vapid entertainments. He was desperate for something to change and he had almost convinced himself that this was the only way. He finally finished his diatribe and drained his glass. He wandered home and his friends followed at a distance. They saw him safely to bed and then waited sleeplessly for the hour when the King would be abroad.

After an eon, dawn finally revealed her glory and they saw the crown prince emerge from his chambers; they hurried to tell him of his brother's embryonic treachery. He listened gravely to the miserable pair; they did not wish to betray their friend, but their friendship was not such that it would be worth their lives, for if they did not tell they would be considered traitors by their silence and seeming complicity.

They finished and the crown prince said, "let us to my father that he may hear these ill tidings."

They hastened to the King's chambers, awakened the slumbering monarch, and told again their terrible tale. The King began to fume and rage while the Queen begged him to be reasonable and speak with Bryant first, before calling for his head, which of course started a Royal argument.

The prince and the two lordlings quickly withdrew from the Royal bedchamber and the prince asked, "is my brother in jest, a drunken fool, or a true traitor?"

They shook their heads, "my lord, we know him little when he is sober; you had best ask him yourself."

The prince said, "I shall." He turned sharply on his heel and went to find his brother before their father could do something rash. Bryant was not happy to be so awakened, his head throbbed terribly, but he soon quit complaining when his brother told the reason for his visit. The elder said, "father may very well banish you for such talk if he does not simply call for your head! Are you in earnest?"

Bryant said quietly, "I am not sure, I need something to change and this is as good a scheme as any I can think of."

His brother said, "if it had been a drunken jest, perhaps father could be appeased but I am afraid his anger shall fall swiftly and harshly upon you."

Bryant paled, said nothing, grabbed his sword belt and cloak, and fled the room. His brother silently watched him go. He did not wish to see his father's wrath realized but neither could he acknowledge this cold-hearted stranger as his brother. By the time the argument was settled and the guards were sent to bring the errant boy to face his father, he was long fled.

Bryant ran for his life. He was astonished to realize that he might perhaps be a murderous fiend if given the chance, at least if it granted him the end he sought. He had hoped it had all been the ravings of a drunkard but he was horrified to realize that under the right circumstances he might be capable of doing just as he had boasted. He fled his father's wrath but he could not flee the monster that was his own soul. He ran to the stable, found a saddled horse awaiting his rider, flung himself into the saddle, and galloped out of the courtyard.

The servant that had been saddling the beast tried to pursue the prince with a warning but to no avail; he had stolen a wild and dangerous animal that was stubborn beyond belief and resistant to even the cruelest methods of training. How he even stayed in the saddle was hard to imagine. He was a magnificent animal and had been brought as a gift to the crown prince by rich merchants as something of bribe, that he might remember them with favor when he succeeded his father. The creature was physically perfect but had a will of iron and would let no man on his back. The prince was the first to attain such a feat and that unknowingly. So they ran, and with the speed of the creature any other horse in the King's stables would have a hard time catching them. The beast would deign to be led and saddled but would carry neither men nor burdens. The crown prince had ordered him saddled and hoped to break him that very morning, hoping to succeed where all others had failed.

They ran hard all day on the shortest road out of the country. As night fell, they finally stopped, the prince collapsed against a tree just over the border. His heart sank and his hand reached for his sword as he heard the sound of galloping hooves drawing swiftly nigh. Six of his father's guards drew rein a bowshot from the prince and one aimed his arrow at the weary boy. The bowstring sang as the prince dove to the ground; the arrow embedded itself in the tree just above where his head had been. The guards then turned and rode off slowly into the dying day. Cautiously the prince stood and pulled the arrow from the tree. He found a small piece of paper attached to the shaft, which read, 'know you now that you are henceforth banished from all the domains of Ithamar and all title, privilege, and rank is hereby denied you. If you should ever return, it will be as a criminal and an outlaw and your life is forfeit unless spared by the mercy of the King.'

Bryant sighed and said to the night air, "I wanted things to change and they have, but not in the way I intended. I am now an exile, a wanderer, an outlaw, a fugitive, with no home, people, or place to call my own. I am a fool!"

The sweat-lathered horse snorted and said, "you are certainly all of that, as am I, but you need not be a fool."

The prince sat down hard in surprise and exhaustion, saying, "horses do not talk."

The horse eyed him patiently and said, "perhaps, but then again it may be that just the horses of your acquaintance have never spoken. Either that or I am not a horse." He snorted wryly in amusement, as if he had said something rather clever.

Taking the hint, the former prince said, "if you are not a horse, then what are you?"

The unhorse said, "let us just say I have been banished from amongst my own noble and glorious people and reduced to the state in which you currently find me. I have been stripped of all that makes my people unique and left a mortal nag."

The unprince said, "and what did you do to become as you are? Who are your people and where do they come from?"

The unhorse said, "perhaps one day I shall tell you all the tale but for now you must suffice yourself with what I have already revealed. What of you?"

The boy sighed, "last night in a drunken rage I spoke of doing terrible things only to awaken and find that all know of my theoretical treachery and that some part of me is not averse to such acts. I can flee my father's wrath but I cannot run from my own wretchedness."

The horse looked at him thoughtfully and said, "until now I have revealed myself to no one, but trapped as I am, I shall go mad if I trust no one and soon shall think myself nothing but a silly horse in truth. Seeing as we are both rebels and outlaws, perhaps we can travel together for a time? I will allow you upon my back in exchange for your aid in keeping me out of the hands of strangers who would happily confiscate a wandering horse, as I will seem if I travel alone."

The boy laughed weakly, "I admit to you that I am a traitor, willing to do murder and yet I alone of all men am the man you choose to trust?"

The horse said, "you have not yet killed anyone and the fact that you are horrified at your own thoughts means there is yet some hope for you. We are both rebels and outcasts, perhaps together we can find redemption upon the road. Besides, you are alone and desperate and need me as much as I need you. You shall not get far afoot."

"Where then shall we go?" asked the former prince.

The horse shook his head, "I do not know. Even if I returned to the lands of my people I would not be allowed to or even capable of entering that wondrous realm. You have no skills or relations that might benefit you in the wide world?" The boy shook his head. The horse sighed, "then let us go north for now until something draws us elsewhere." The boy nodded his agreement, for one direction was as good as any other at the moment. They wandered off the road a short distance and the boy was soon asleep.

Morning came and the boy rose, damp and stiff but much refreshed, but he had brought nothing to eat or to start a fire with. Neither did he have a bow. He had his sword and dagger upon his hastily grabbed belt; his belt pouch was full of coins but there was nowhere to buy breakfast. He refreshed himself in a swiftly running creek, saddled the horse, and they were soon off though the boy's stomach complained bitterly.

The horse remarked, "it would be a far easier journey if you could sate yourself with grass as all sensible creatures do."

The boy laughed and said, "you are the only sensible herbivore I have ever met. All other creatures that go on four legs have remained thankfully silent."

The horse retorted, "that only proves their sense, for only man opens his mouth and makes sounds for no reason. At least doubt remains as to whether the silent beasts are truly fools or not; man has proved himself thus time and time again by his speech."

About midday they stopped in a small village and the boy purchased what he would need for the journey and some much appreciated food. They continued on until nightfall at which point, the boy made a rough camp as the horse wandered off for his nightly meal. They continued on in this manner for several days and nothing truly remarkable happened. They were traveling north through Sebeka: the neighboring Kingdom to Ithamar, a peaceful and prosperous country that welcomed strangers and most especially their coin.

The horse said one day as they rode along, "what know you of happenings in the wide world?"

The boy said, "I paid little attention to world events, current or historic, save for a little about our closest neighbors. Now I begin to regret my inattention to my studies, for now I see the use of them when previously I thought it all nonsense."

The horse said, "I know little of the countries of men, but I shall tell you what I know of your world in general. It is a vast place and there are many kings and kingdoms; some are prosperous and peaceful, others are evil and warlike, and there are all shades between. There is also much unclaimed and wild land wherein all manner of beasts and folk strange to men are to be found. Much of what you consider myth or legend is actually true and flourishes in such places.

In the far south dwells an Evil Prince with much sway in the world. His minions ride wherever they will and do as they please, causing much grief amongst innocent folk. His kingdom is called the Infernal Realm and is separated from all else by impassable mountains, though any who wish can freely enter his gates. All is sere and waste within a hundred miles of those vile peaks and he holds sway over all within their shadow. Many of the Kings closest to his domain are his vassals and nearly as vile as he. He is a rebel against the Great King, who dwells far to the north in the Brightlands, and was once His greatest servant. A great chasm in the earth, called the Rift by men, separates those dear lands from all others."

It is said that the Rift is a actually a rift in time and space, having no bottom. No mortal can cross that chasm save by the will of the Great King or His dear Son, the True Prince whose will is always that of His Father. It is from the Blessed Mountains that rim the Brightlands that my own kin come and from thence was I banished. Between the Brightlands and the Infernal Realm are the Grey Lands, in which mortal men dwell and that encompass all you know as real. It is in this strange plane that you are born, live, and die. After you pass the gates of death you must enter either the Brightlands, if you are a willing subject of the Great King, else you come under the dominion of the Dark Prince and you will never more come forth from the Infernal Realms. One day the Great King will reclaim the Grey Lands and forever banish the Dark Prince beyond his own mountains and seal the gate that none may pass out again. Then will all the world be as it was meant to be, before rebellion brought death and sorrow upon the face of the earth."

The boy paled, "I have heard stories and legends of such things but never thought them more than tales. You tell me this is the truth! Whatever is a rebel of my standing to do? Am I doomed to dwell in that terrible place for all eternity?"

The horse shook his head, "I am a rebel myself and doomed to the same fate unless we can find a way out. My people are immortal, true and willing servants to the Great King, but alas I refused the duty He asked of me and I was thus banished. We never spoke of redemption, for we had no need of such a concept, but on these shattered shores on which I find myself the need is truly great. We must seek out one who can tell us this mystery."

The boy nodded glumly and hoped with all his heart that a way could be found out of this pit of his own making. At least he knew now why they rode north; he had no wish to be nearer those awful lands than he absolutely had to be. "What or who are we looking for?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "there are supposedly men abroad, servants of the Great King, knowledgeable in all things pertaining to Him and His dealings with fallen men. It is one of these learned men that we seek, to learn what must be done to redeem ourselves."

"Where are such folk to be found?" asked the boy.

The horse snorted in laughter, "an excellent question. I know little of mortal lands and know only what I have personally observed since my arrival in this dismal sphere and that which I have overheard men speak in my presence. Sadly, I seem to know more than you who were born in this place."

The boy nodded glumly, ashamed of all he had failed to learn in his life and of all the time he had spent drowning himself in a mug of ale. The boy said, "perhaps instead of isolating ourselves of an evening, I should visit the local tavern and see if I cannot learn something of these mystics you speak of?"

The horse nodded in approval, "an excellent proposition." They stopped early that evening, for they would not reach the next village before dark. The horse said to the boy, "be careful, for there are men who do not hold the Great King in high favor. The Dark Prince has spies and servants everywhere."

The boy smiled slightly, "you are worried for my safety?"

The horse smiled, "let us just say it would be a far more difficult journey alone." The boy's smile deepened as he entered the inn while the horse wandered off into the night.

The boy took a seat far to the back and watched quietly from his private corner. The innkeeper eyed him speculatively but said nothing, for he caused no trouble. The boy watched the quiet conversations, tavern games, and the comings and goings of the various patrons. He marked out several shady looking characters but saw no one who seemed an ideal source of information. Full dark fell outside the grimy windows as a ragged traveler traipsed into the inn and wandered to the back of the common room. He surveyed the men scattered about the establishment and his eyes fell upon the boy, obviously a fellow stranger in this place. He made his way to the back and asked if he might share the boy's small table. The boy was intrigued by the stranger and nodded eagerly.

The man took a seat, the serving girl brought him a bowl of stew and some bread, and as he ate his meal he said, "what brings you to this place lad? One does not often see such youngsters wandering alone, save perhaps a few adventurous lads looking to be heroes."

The boy said, "I wander because I must. My past is behind and all my unknown future lies ahead. I seek hope in a hopeless world and peace for a disquiet heart."

The man smiled secretively and said quietly, "the world is not quite as hopeless as you might think, though sometimes it is dangerous to speak of that which is a light in even the darkest night. I am willing to speak with you but perhaps in a place less public?"

The boy nodded gravely and said, "my companion and I have ridden far in search of such knowledge. We are both wanderers seeking rest. What do you suggest?"

The man smiled, "let me finish my meal and then we shall talk for a time of trivialities to allay the suspicions of all here. Then you can wander off into the night and I shall follow when convenient. Wait for me along the road but well out of sight." The boy nodded and they proceeded as planned.

Half an hour after the boy had gone, the man trudged wearily out into the dark, a man obviously too poor to afford a bed in such a place. A few eyed him speculatively but returned to their drinks, seeing nothing obviously to their benefit in yet another penniless traveler. The man wandered out onto the road and waited silently until the boy crawled out of hiding and drew his attention. They vanished down an overgrown trail into a little clearing. The moon stood high and gave enough light to cast their faces into shadow.

"Where is your companion?" asked the curious man. The boy smiled silently in amused anticipation as a horse stepped out of the shadowed woods and stopped before the man, looking at him as if awaiting some reply. The man looked from the horse to the boy and back again.

"Well?" asked the horse, "I have been told that this little interlude shall be worth missing part of my evening repast."

The man gaped, "I have not had the pleasure of meeting a talking horse before, unless of course you are not actually a horse?"

The horse smiled in pleasure, "finally a man with some sense! Long have I hoped to meet such a specimen. I of course am no horse, save perhaps in appearance. And who pray tell are you and how come you to know more of wisdom than most men I have encountered?"

The man smiled in amusement and said, "who I am is of no particular import, save that I am a servant of the Great King and have seen many strange and wonderful things in my wanderings on His behalf. And who might you be, my curious friends?"

The horse snorted in amusement, "who we are matters as little as your identity. But know we are outcasts and rebels, seeking forgiveness and a brighter future. We have high hopes that you might be able to tell us of such things."

The man nodded, "as are all who roam these Grey Lands. What know you of the state of the world and that which lies beyond it?"

The horse said, "we know of the Great King and the sundering of all those who have rebelled against Him, including the Dark Prince and all mankind. We seek to know if there is any way to restore what has been lost. Can a creature sundered from its Maker by rebellion and iniquity be restored to fellowship with Him?"

The man smiled, "that is the question that wrings the heart of all mortal creatures. A creature in willing rebellion against his King cannot do aught to redeem himself. For what is the worth of anything we can do of ourselves? Our greatest and noblest deeds are nothing but soiled rags to the Great King, yet the least of our sins cuts His great heart like a knife."

The horse sighed, "then all is lost?"

The man smiled joyfully and said, "thankfully, no. We cannot redeem ourselves but One greater than us has paid the price for our folly; all we need do is accept the King's pardon on His behalf and live our lives in accordance with the will of our new Lord and Master."

The horse looked startled, "who could bear such a burden and yet be acceptable to the King?"

The man said grimly, "it was the King's own Son who bore the penalty of our rebellion, and for a moment even His own Father could not look upon Him for the shame He bore. He willingly left the Brightlands to dwell in infamy among mortals, only to meet a cruel and humiliating end and to give, as it seemed, a great victory to the Vile Prince, but that was not the end of the story. He overthrew death itself, bore the curse each of us should have borne ourselves, and was restored to His proper place beside His Father. The Vile Prince was dealt a mortal blow that shall one day be made complete when the True Prince returns in triumph to overthrow evil and death forever."

The boy said, "why would such a great and mighty Prince do that for the weak and wretched of the earth when He could dwell untroubled in glory?"

The man said in awe, "that is the mystery and the beauty of it. Some call it love, but such a love no mortal mind can comprehend. What will you make of this tale you have just heard? Will you go your way laughing at the foolishness of an old man while seeming to tolerate me while in my presence, or will you take my tale as truth and give your life that you might save it?"

The boy asked nervously, "what must I do to accept this great offer?"

The man smiled and said, "simply repent of your evil in the name of the Son and seek to live your life according to the Father's will."

The boy frowned, "and how will I know His will?"

The man smiled, "you will know. If you are in earnest, the King's Spirit will be with you, to help you to know good from evil, right from wrong. You must seek out that which is good and noble and beautiful and pure. Flee that which is evil, ignoble, dishonest, wicked, selfish, and impure. Love all men as you love yourself and love the King with all that is within you."

"And what of me?" asked the horse.

"What of you?" asked the man, "you are a sapient creature in rebellion against the Great King and therefore capable of seeking His gift of redemption to Himself."

The horse said sadly, "but I have dwelt in the Blessed Mountains, across the River which mortal men call the Rift. I am one of the Pegassi and banished to dwell a mortal horse in these sad lands for refusing that for which my race is bred. Can even I seek this gift?"

The man smiled gently, "that you can ask such a question and worry about its answer should be answer enough. Seek the King and I think you have nothing to fear. Were you yet of a stubborn and proud heart and refused His gift, I think there would be no hope, but yet your heart is supple, humble, and willing. I have no fear for you."

The horse was stunned, "how come you to know my sin?"

The man smiled ruefully, "the root of all sin is pride and selfishness. For that is the crime of the Dark Prince and Enemy of the Great King. A humble and meek heart is hardly capable of such aspirations."

The boy then asked, "and what shall I do with my life once I have accepted the King as Lord and Master? Must I become a wandering raconteur like you?"

The man laughed, "perhaps that will be your duty but perhaps not. There are many things the King's servants are called to do. You will know in your heart that which you must do if you fervently ask it of the King. You say you are a rebel and an outlaw? I would advise you to return to the place from whence you have fled and face the justice that is due you and the forgiveness of those you have wronged. Only then can you seek what life has in store."

The boy was aghast, "I thought accepting the Son freed me from all iniquity and the penalties attendant thereunto."

The man smiled sadly, "He frees us from the eternal penalties for such actions but we must yet face the mortal consequences of our actions while life lasts. You cannot be right with the King if you are not right with your brothers."

The boy was stunned, "how did you know I had wronged my brother?"

The man smiled, "I meant your fellow men, not just your male siblings. Go home and make things right child and remember to forgive others as you seek to be forgiven."

They talked long into the night but finally succumbed to exhaustion. They parted company in the morning, each continuing on his own journey, missing the other as if losing a dear friend, though they had known each other only for a few hours. The horse, Erian by name, chose to accompany the boy home, that he might make amends to his father and brother and face whatever justice they chose to mete out. The traveler went on his way to seek out those who, like his former companions, were desperate for the truths he carried.

The journey was swiftly made, the boy was not happy to perhaps be facing death but felt such a peace and purpose within himself that he did not fear the future, even if it meant his demise. The horse did not wish to go back into captivity but he and the boy had discussed the matter, and if things went ill for the boy, the horse could easily escape once someone took him out of the great walled city for a ride in the country. If the boy survived the encounter with his father and was not imprisoned for life, they thought to seek the Master's will for their lives together. Erian never thought to develop such an attachment to a human, but was happy to again have a friend, though he dreaded what end the boy might meet at the hands of his own kin. He had rather come to enjoy their time together and hoped he would not soon be alone again. Finally they crossed the borders into Ithamar and would soon face the wrath of the King. It was not long before six soldiers in the uniform of the Royal Guard came upon them. They were stunned to discover who the lonely stranger was and wasted no time in drawing their swords to take the rebel and traitor.

The boy drew his own sword and dagger, but only to throw them to the ground and then placed his hands on his head in surrender. The captain nearly fell out of his saddle in wonder but feared the boy might be trying his hand at some trick. He ordered his men forward and they surrounded the boy with swords bared. The captain searched the boy, cruelly bound his hands behind his back, and took the reins of the 'silly horse.' One of his men retrieved the boy's weapons and they set out in triumph for the city. They said nothing to the rebel, save to mock him in his shameful return; the boy refrained from speaking. They entered the city and the citizens mocked and jeered as he passed while cheering the brave soldiers who had captured the renegade. The King had widely publicized the incident and its consequences, and the boy was already unpopular with the citizenry after his many intoxicated adventures in the city's various inns. They arrived in the courtyard of the castle, many were the servants and guards who for a moment stood about in abject shock, before hustling off to inform the King of his ignominious guest. The boy slid form his saddle under the watchful eyes of a dozen armed men; he smiled sheepishly at the horse, who whinnied in reassurance as he was led away to the stables.

The boy was taken to meet his father with all the court and his entire family looking on. The boy stood before their Majesties, head bowed and tears burning in his eyes. The King wore a grim frown while his mother's eyes held silent shame and horror that one of her own children could be so terrible. The King said in a voice like thunder in the hills, "what have you to say for yourself? I half expected you to return with an enemy army, come to force your point, if you returned at all."

The boy could stand it no longer, and fell to his knees before his father as the court gasped in wonder. The King's jaw dropped and for the first time hope lit the Queen's face. The boy said, "I fled a proud and foolish boy. I return in shame and dishonor, but duty bids me to return and face what my shameful acts have earned."

"Duty?" scoffed the King, "What know you of duty?"

The boy wept openly, "I know very little Sire, but I could not go on living knowing your wrath yet hung over my head. Know that I am guilty of all that you have heard. I am also guilty of living wantonly and selfishly, with no regard for any save myself. I return to you a broken and humbled child. Forgive my idiocy and irreverent thoughts and deeds. Let justice be met in your eyes, as well as in the eyes of the court and all the citizens of Ithamar."

The King gaped, "you are my son, are you not?" The boy met his father's befuddled gaze; the man saw the truth of the boy's words written in eyes, red with weeping. The King shook his head and said, "I threatened you with death should you have the gall to return, but I also spoke of the possibility of mercy. Tell me truly, is this drastic change of heart real or simply a ploy to spare your life?"

The boy said, "my life is yours to take if you will it thus. This shattered wretch you see before you is the man I have become in my absence; it is no act."

The King shook his head, "and what has engendered such a change? You fled a traitor and return an honorable man that I would not be ashamed to call my son."

The boy smiled weakly and said, "I have discovered that there is more to life than my own selfish and empty desires. I have found Him who can forgive my past and shortcomings and Who enables me to become more than I could ever aspire to be. I am a servant of the Great King and His blessed Son."

At this admission the whole court was suddenly in uproar. They of course had heard the tales and thought them all stories and wishful thinking, for there could be no Great King any more than there was a Dark Prince or unicorns or griffins. Such things were simply bedtime tales to teach children morality and hasten them to sleep and nothing more. The King was enraged, "I begin to offer you mercy and you dare blame your radical transformation on children's tales?"

The boy said quietly, "they are not stories Sire, they are the truth and the only hope for mankind. Am I not living proof of their power?"

The King shook his head, satisfied that the boy did not mock him, but fearful that he was a lunatic. Finally he said, "I have stripped you of all rank and title and this I cannot and will not restore. However, seeing your change of heart, I will spare you from death. You may come and go freely within Ithamar and all its domains but only as a commoner. You have no rank or privilege among the nobility unless one of us cares to humor you for a time. What say you?"

The boy stood and said, "it is more than I deserve Majesty, you can lawfully do with me as you please. I thank you for your mercy." He bowed deeply and all the court gasped again. Most would rather face death than live stripped of rank and privilege as the boy felt inclined to do.

The King smiled slightly, "you may at least call me father once more. That is the one privilege I shall not revoke. You will never inherit my throne but you are still my son. For once I can say that I am not ashamed of you."

The family then withdrew to a private room to discuss things further, leaving the court to gossip amongst themselves, while wild rumors spread like wildfire through the servants, guards, and townsfolk. The joyful Queen enthusiastically greeted her errant son. The King embraced the boy a bit stiffly but gradually warmed to the idea. His younger siblings were ecstatic. His elder brother smiled warmly and welcomed home a brother he could finally be proud of, if in a strange way.

"So," said the King, "what are your plans now that you have a future?"

The boy smiled ruefully and said, "I think I shall remain in Ithamar for a time telling all who will listen of the grace that was granted me. Meanwhile I hope to discover of what service I can be to the King."

The King was quite pleased, "all you need do is ask my dear son."

The boy said quietly, "I am sorry father, but I was not speaking of your grace, though I am very thankful for it; I was speaking of the Great King and what His Son has done for us all. It is Him I must now serve with all my being."

The King gaped, "men will think you mad! You will be shunned and perhaps beaten or killed if you proclaim such things openly. Can you not abandon this nonsense? You have been restored to life; why court death once more?"

The boy said, "what I once called life was but a living death. How now can I abandon Him who restored me to true life? I will not return to being half alive now that I have tasted of true life even though I die for it. I know it to be true and I would gladly give my life in service to my Lord. Men may think what they wish but I care only for my Master's opinion." He bowed politely and left the room, leaving his entire family quite stunned.

His mother spoke quietly with her husband and then hurried after her son. She found him sitting quietly in one of the gardens and said, "your father has agreed to house you in the servants' quarters, though how long his favor will last if you persist in your current way of thinking I do not know? I am glad you have found your peace, it gives me much to think about and stirs great hope within me. Tell me more." And he did.

He stayed in the palace for a day or two but no one wanted to be preached at by the hypocritical and half-mad boy as they thought him; those who were curious found themselves silenced by fear of what others might think. The boy then moved into the city with his message and there found a few who listened but more who mocked, jeered, or even showered him with rotten produce. He became something of a local joke and people began to think him mad in truth to tolerate such treatment day by day and wondered that he did not stop and become 'rational,' at least as they saw it.

Erian accompanied him often on these forays, being ill at ease in the palace stables alone. After one such afternoon the horse remarked, "a prophet is not without honor, save in his hometown."

Bryant cocked an eyebrow and smiled, saying, "a sage piece of advice my friend and just who did you steal it from?"

The horse did his best to shrug and said, "I suppose I heard it once somewhere but who is to say it is not of my own making?"

They shared a much needed laugh and turned back towards the castle, when an aura of fear froze them in their tracks. The townsfolk also seemed to sense the terror and cowered where they stood, shrunk behind doorways and walls, or fled. A thing that looked a man, all in black armor with embers for eyes and naked bones under a thin veiling of translucent skin, barely visible beneath the metal carapace, rode ominously down the street upon some terrible creature that was equine in shape, but draconian in feature with claws for feet, a scaled hide, and a mouth full of terrible teeth. The black rider looked over the cowering townsfolk disdainfully, as a woman might a dead mouse in her pantry. Even a trio of the King's guards stepped back in dread as those eyes fell upon them.

Finally the roving gaze fell upon the boy. The fell beast stopped and the rider looked upon the boy; one could feel his terrible smile hidden beneath the faceplate of the helmet. The boy felt that gaze and knew what it meant to be utterly hated. Erian's head was down and he trembled in terror. The creature moved towards the horse and his rider and when close enough, the dark apparition reached out and grabbed the frozen boy and plucked him from Erian's saddle. The boy's terror turned to desperation not to be captured by the wraith, he fought and struggled vainly against the inhumanly strong arm that clutched him; he might as well have tried to move a mountain.

"Stop struggling wretch," growled a voice like a wind from a winter tomb.

A chill breath from the fell form touched the boy's face and he went cold and limp as one dead. The vile rider produced a length of dark cord and bound the boy hand and foot; he turned his dreadful mount and rode out of the city with the boy tied across the croup of his saddle. The city seemed to breath a sigh of relief with the apparition gone, all were silently thankful it had not come for them.

Erian recovered himself enough to follow the vile pair at a distance but had little hope of freeing his friend. He had heard rumors of such things before but had hoped never to see one with his own eyes; what could a Dreadlord want with the boy? Certainly the deadliest and most vile servants of the Dark Prince could have no love for the servants of the Great King but why waste such a valuable resource on one boy? He wished that he had tried to protect his friend when the vile thing had come for him, but he knew all he could have done was die in vain.

They traveled day and night, never stopping for rest or water as the vile rider pressed ever south. Erian was exhausted and faint but refused to slacken in his pursuit lest he lose any chance of rescuing Bryant, though as the miles passed his hope quickly faded. Prisoners of the Dark Lord did not live long and the time left them was filled with such misery and torment that they welcomed death when it finally came. On the brink of collapse, the Pegassi thought he was hallucinating when he saw a griffin (another creature he had hoped never to encounter personally) silently stoop out of the sky, unhorse the loathsome rider, and carry the boy bodily away (after a brief struggle with the cord securing him to the riding beast). The Dreadlord stood, watched the predator wing swiftly north and vanish beyond the horizon, he seemed to laugh to himself, and then rode off to trouble further innocents.

Erian finally collapsed upon the road from shock and exhaustion. The griffin flew back to its lair high atop a bluff overlooking a great river that flowed through that forested hill country. The boy finally stirred, though he had barely drawn breath for two days while in the Dreadlord's clutches. The first thing he saw was the great beaky maw open above him; he struggled vainly against his bonds to be free of this new terror. The creature seemed to find his victim's ordeal amusing and lowered his head, closing the gaping beak upon his original target: the boy's bonds. Seeing the creature did not mean to make a meal of him (at least immediately), the boy relaxed and waited to see what strange adventure had flung itself upon him.

"Now," said the griffin, once he had freed his prisoner, "tell me what a Dreadlord would want with the likes of you?"

The boy looked at the creature in astonishment, as he sat up and began working life back into his hands and feet. He said, "you are not going to devour me? I did not think griffins real and if they were, I thought them all monsters. I did not even know what a Dreadlord was until I saw that thing, if that is indeed what it is called? I know even less of what interest it would have in me. What is a Dreadlord anyway?"

The creature laughed, "if I were going to eat you I certainly would have been about it already. Many of my kind are cruel and devious creatures, some have become little more than ravaging beasts in mind as well as habit. But there are a few of us who fear the King and thus keep His laws. Griffins are quite real my young friend, as I am certainly proof; much of what you might consider legend lives and breathes and roams the earth. As for Dreadlords, you certainly made a closer study of the abominable things than most have and none I know have lived to tell the tale if they had. They are the dearest servants of the Enemy: evil men of vile intention sometimes go to the gates of the Infernal Realm seeking such power. They are always allowed to enter but none know which ever emerge, for they all look the same and there is no way to differentiate one from another. Those so chosen undergo terrible rituals to enter a living death. No mortal blade can injure them. Few mortal hearts can stand against the fear they inspire and no mortal horse."

The boy said, "is there any hope for mortal men if the Enemy has such servants?"

The griffin continued, "thankfully there are only ever seven of the creatures abroad at a time. Those who seek such service are more often denied the terrible honor they demand and are made Soldiers instead: a less terrible but certainly evil servant of the Enemy, with few thoughts of their own and almost completely under the control of the Dreadlords, though there are certainly more of them about. They never go about alone thankfully, save in the shadow of the Mountains of Night on the borders of the Infernal Realm. Otherwise they are always in the company of a Dreadlord, for they are quite helpless without. You have seen the vile mounts of the Dreadlords, but the Soldiers ride what appear to be mortal horses but so mutilated and wretched that they seem to share in their masters' living death. While mortals may tremble in the presence of these dread servants of the Enemy, the King has not left us alone, for there are those who have the power to oppose them. This does not guarantee a rescue but it gives hope to an otherwise hopeless situation. I take it from the Dreadlord's interest in you that you are a servant of the King?"

The boy nodded in awe and horror at what he had just heard. The griffin mused, "usually they would kill outright such a bothersome pest as they would see you. Why go to all the trouble of carrying you back to his vile master? They will carry back the more famous or effective servants of the King in hopes of turning them away from the King or at least giving them a miserable death. What was a Dreadlord doing in the middle Kingdoms anyway? They are usually found in the south, in lands more firmly in the sway of the Dark One. What were you up to when the thing found you?"

The boy said, "I was trying to touch the hard hearted people of Ithamar and was having little effect."

The griffin laughed, "Ithamar! You certainly set yourself an impossible task! They are quite a hard headed people and no one has been able to penetrate their hearts of stone in many long years. They consider the King and everything outside the bounds of man myth! I wonder what the appearance of a Dreadlord among them might do? He might make more of a dent in their proud hearts than a hundred years of preaching ever could, else he may drive them further into their stubborn assertions that mankind is all there is and ever was. What made you choose Ithamar?" The boy smiled ruefully and told his story.

The griffin was astonished, "that is quite a tale. I doubt it would be a good idea for you to return home but perhaps this presents an opportunity for another to try his hand. The Dreadlord would certainly return for you, once they lay claim to a victim they will not rest in their pursuit until he is utterly destroyed. Thankfully your captor will think you dead by my claws. Your people are also not apt to listen to you but perhaps this incident will soften their hearts and open their minds enough for a stranger to succeed where a local son is mocked. This could be quite a breakthrough for the King. The middle Kingdoms, such as Ithamar, are notorious for their skepticism while the southern kingdoms are steeped in evil and those to the north are nearly lost to pride, self-righteousness, and legalism, thinking themselves the sole servants of the King when they are in truth far from Him."

"What then should I do?" asked the boy.

The griffin smiled, "that I cannot say. You must find whatever it is the King would have you do in His service. Fear not, for a willing heart will certainly find its way though it will not necessarily be a pleasant or easy task."

The boy smiled, "I know already that the King's message is not that popular among most folk!" He paled, "what of my family, who think me dead or worse? What became of Erian?"

The griffin cocked his head, "I was going to tell one of the Wanderers, the King's servants who wander from place to place telling others of the King, that perhaps he should visit Ithamar. I shall ask him to give tidings of your safety to your family. Who is Erian?"

The boy looked both relieved and worried, wondering how much of Erian's tale he dared tell the griffin. He said, "he is my friend and former companion in exile until I returned home from my brief wanderings. He was with me when the Dreadlord came but I knew nothing more until I awoke here."

The griffin said, "I saw no other men."

The boy said with some amusement, "he is not a man but appears a horse, though that is not his true lineage." The griffin looked skeptical; the boy laughed and said, "I shall let him tell his tale if we can find him. I do not think the Dreadlord recognized him for a thinking creature and thus spared him nor do I think he was long in pursuit."

The griffin shook his head, "Dreadlords require neither food nor rest nor water and can press on at great speed relentlessly. A horse would not last long in such a chase, but we shall seek your friend upon the road. Come, climb upon my back." Bryant did as he was bidden and climbed onto the creature's back, clinging tightly that he not fall. The creature leapt into the air and winged his way towards the road.

They had not far to go from the place the griffin had encountered the Dreadlord, for they found Erian collapsed beside the road, caked with sweat and dust, and breathing heavily. The griffin had hardly landed before the boy leapt from his back and ran to his prone friend. A water skin was yet secured to the saddle and Bryant used some of the precious fluid to revive his friend. The horse felt the cold water on his face and started awake. He would have fallen in shock had he not already been down, when he saw his friend alive and well with a curious griffin at his shoulder. He shook himself all over and struggled to his feet.

He said weakly, "we had best get off the road and I desperately need a drink." Slowly he made his way under the cover of the trees where they happily found a small brook chattering merrily in the midst of the glade. He drank as much as he dared, the boy helped him off with his tack, rubbed him down with handfuls of grass, and then he gratefully lay down once more. "Now," said the horse, "tell me how it is you are alive after an encounter with both a griffin and a Dreadlord?" The boy told as much as he knew of the tale.

Then the griffin asked, "how is it that a seeming horse can talk?"

The horse eyed him skeptically but was grateful for his rescue of the boy and also for not killing either of them, so Erian said, "it is quite true that I am only a horse in form. By birth I am one of the Pegassi, but I was banished from that noble people for my arrogance and have since been humbled and returned to the King's service, but still remain in this lesser form, probably unto death. Learn well my friend the price of rebellion against our Great Lord."

The griffin nodded grimly and then said, "I must be off on other errands now that you are both relatively safe, but I shall return and check on you soon." He was suddenly gone and the boy and horse exchanged a wondering look.

They stayed in that place for several days while Erian recovered his strength. The griffin returned occasionally to chat and often brought the boy a rabbit or some part of a deer. The horse lived quite well on the local vegetation. Finally Erian felt ready to be on the road once more and asked, "where shall we go next, my dear and reckless friend? Since your father's kingdom is not a place we can go, where then shall our road take us?"

The boy looked to the griffin, who shook his head, "I am of little use to either of you in this matter I am afraid. I have spoken to one of the local Wanderers and he was quite eager to attend to the strange needs of Ithamar."

The boy sighed, "I know little of the world. How am I to know my place in it?"

The horse snorted, "at least you were born to it."

The boy suddenly remembered what the griffin had said at their first meeting and brightened as he asked, "you once mentioned that there were those servants of the King who could fight against the Dreadlords and the other fell servants of the Enemy. Who are they and how are they chosen?" The horse and griffin looked at him in astonishment and then exchanged an incomprehensible look: the griffin one of surprise and the horse one of dread.

The griffin said, "they are called the Messengers and I know little of them. I thought perhaps your friend would have told you more of them?"

The Pegassi shifted from foot to foot and looked at the ground. The griffin and the boy were silent but looked at him expectantly until he said, "it was for this very reason that I was exiled from my home and people. The service my people render the King is to bear His servants into battle against the Enemy's fell minions. I was asked to serve but refused in stubbornness and pride, unwilling to bear a man upon my back, even for so noble a cause and under so great a banner. I know nothing more of these men than the name and that my people serve as their faithful mounts. Now I am but a mere horse and bear willingly a boy of no renown and we ride alone. If only I had done as I was asked I would not be alone and would have a noble cause and my Lord's pleasure."

The boy was wide eyed in amazement and said, "I think it is to this that I am called. I would seek them out and join them if I am allowed. You need not join me in my quest if it discomfits you my friend."

The horse laughed ruefully, "you faced your past and now I must face mine. I will accompany you on this adventure, even if I must part from you at its end, for a mere horse can be of no service to such folk." The boy embraced the horse's neck in thanks.

The griffin said, "may the King guide your steps my friends. We are all soldiers in this war and each of us serves in our own way. Until we meet again." He took to the air and they saw him no more.

The boy asked as he climbed into the saddle, "of which war does he speak?"

The horse laughed, "did you not know these are embattled lands and have been since the dawn of time? Since the Enemy revolted, he has waged war against the King and with the rebellion of man and various other inhabitants of creation, it has been all out war between good and evil across the whole scope of time and space and even beyond. We are all in a battle even if most do not know it. You have declared yourself for the King and therefore are an enemy of the Dark Prince. Those who have not declared for the King are in the Enemy's clutches, as much as his most devoted and intentional servants."

The boy said, "I thought the King had already won?"

The horse snorted, "He has, but the Enemy has not yet been overthrown and cast forever beyond his blighted mountains. The war rages on and a defeated and desperate foe fights all the harder. Though it might seem like the fiend is winning, in the grand scheme of things he has already lost. That is why it is so important that all are told of the Great War that they might choose on which side to fight rather than fall victim to ignorance and the lies of the Enemy."

The boy asked, "but what is the prize in this war? I doubt the Enemy cares much for land or riches."

The horse said grimly, "he cares for nothing of the sort. It is a war for the souls of all sapient creatures. The Enemy will use all within his power to destroy, corrupt, and discredit the servants of the King and to keep all others ignorant, skeptical, or disdainful of the Son and His sacrifice on our behalf."

"It seems an impossible fight," said the boy.

The horse laughed, "it would be, save our Lord is master of all we consider impossible and He is quite capable of succeeding in such a feat."

The boy smiled, no longer fearing the outcome of the ancient war, though his part in it was still hidden from him. They traveled north once more, not wishing to draw any closer to the Infernal Realms or the southern countries so steeped in evil, tyranny, war, and despotism. They skirted Ithamar, not wishing to enter again into those lands lest they draw the Dreadlord's attention once more.

"Where exactly are we going?" asked the boy one day as they rode along.

The horse said, "we are seeking information about these Messengers of yours so we had best ask someone who might actually know something. Else we could spend the rest of our lives in fruitless search."

The boy asked, "and who knows anything of that mysterious folk? Even the griffin was ignorant of anything concerning them and he is a long lived beast."

The Pegassi said, "there are creatures yet older that roam the earth, though most are apathetic or even hostile towards the King. There are perhaps a few who are His servants and knowledgeable in such lore."

The boy asked, "and who might that be?"

The horse said quietly, "perhaps a dragon, elf, or unicorn can provide us with an answer, for some of them are old as time itself."

The boy asked, "I thought all creatures within the Grey Lands were mortal?"

The horse said, "all are mortal in that they can die but that does not necessarily mean that all creatures have a similar lifespan. Certain races do not have a set lifespan and will live until physically slain or until the end of time. Some of the Fairyfolk, as you would call all non-human, half-legendary creatures as I have just named, were those who originally forsook the lands of the King, crossed the River, and made a life for themselves away from their Maker. The original parents of men rebelled against the King and were banished from paradise to these Grey Lands where their offspring multiplied and flourished. Of the other races, save the Pegassi, only a portion of their forebears willingly chose to leave their perfect home and find a life away from their King that they might rule themselves.

Thus did the Fairyfolk come into the world and yet do some of their folk dwell across the River within the Realm of the King. The choice is given to all their children, as it is to the children of men, to return to the service of the King or dwell forever in darkness once time or life fails. Some of them choose to serve the King and most of these are shunned by their folk, thus do they cross the River and return to their kin in happier climes. This of course can only be for those races that do not have a set lifespan. Those with a set lifetime must wait for death to take them or the Last Day to come before they are allowed to cross the River."

"What if we come upon a dragon that is unfriendly to the King?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "we will die and no longer need worry about our role in this war, for we shall meet the King face to face. But do not worry, most of the unfriendliest dragons dwell in the Mountains of Night along with all sorts of other nasty things fond of evil and darkness. However, most of the Fairyfolk are not fond of men, no matter their feelings towards the King, save His servants among them. It will certainly be an adventure but the only way I can think of to learn that which you wish to know. We can always try something less dangerous?"

The boy smiled, "no, my heart is set on this course. Let us accomplish it or die trying." The horse frisked eagerly and increased their pace. "Where exactly are we going to find these Fairyfolk?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "I do not know exactly but they dwell in the unclaimed wildlands in all parts of the world, save the far north and the wastelands of the south. They wish to be nowhere near either the Enemy or the King or even simple men for that matter. They wish simply to be left alone."

They traveled for many days, speaking to strangers upon the road and at inns of an evening. Most thought them mad to be seeking such folk but told what tales they knew. They gained little information of use. Finally civilization was left far behind and they found themselves traveling little used cart paths and occasional game trails through the uncharted forests in the northeast of the world. Men were few in this region and most wished to be left to themselves.

The boy asked as they entered those unpeopled lands, "are the tales of moving trees and river spirits true?"

The horse laughed, "the trees and water are the same as in other lands. Some of the folk in these wild places have habits, talents, and ways that are strange to mortal men and thus construed as 'magic,' but there are truly villains who summon evil powers from the Enemy and we must be wary of such evil mages, sorcerers, and witches, for there are none of that sort that serve the King." The boy nodded grimly and they continued on their way.

In these forgotten lands there were small villages and scattered clusters of farms, but they were few and far between and vulnerable to any renegades who wished to prey upon them. All were distrustful of strangers in such places. They pressed onward into the heart of nowhere in their search for answers. One night the boy chose a small clearing along a rushing stream as his campsite and the horse said, "tonight I shall wander alone and seek out any of these peculiar folk who might be abroad. I fear your presence frightens them away. Thus far I have not strayed far, for fear some foul thing might fall upon you, but we have yet had no success in our quest. Do you fear to remain alone?"

The boy said, "we might wander forever else. You had best do as you say."

The horse nodded, bid his friend adieu, and vanished into the forest. The boy made a light supper of the small fish he had caught in the stream and settled down for the night. He awoke to find the clearing alight with the bright glow of the gibbous moon overhead and saw to his awe and terror, a unicorn on the edge of the glade eyeing him balefully. The creature saw the boy awake and knew that he had been seen. The boy dared not reach for the sword that lay close to hand but met the gaze of the magnificent beast before him.

The creature said, "you are far from the lands of men boy and trespass in the rightful domain of the Elven Kings; your life is justly forfeit."

The boy said, "what right have you to take a life simply because we have wandered unknowingly into your realm?"

The unicorn snorted in disgust, "most men rightfully fear to tread this forgotten ground. The ruler of a land has the right to make the laws as he sees fit."

"Perhaps such reasoning works for the Dark Prince and ignorant men, but I did not expect to hear such inanity from a creature of your age and supposed wisdom," said a new voice.

The unicorn glowered at the plainly clad man who had silently entered the clearing during the discussion. The unicorn growled, "stay out of this. You have no part in it. Be gone!"

The man laughed, "my business is anywhere the King's laws are trampled underfoot. Laws cannot be laws unless they are just and protect the innocent. Leave the boy to me and I will see that he leaves your precious forest with all speed, but you and all your folk would be wise to return to your rightful King."

The unicorn snorted derisively, "we chose our own Kings and need no more of your Master. Take the boy and go. If either of you ever return I cannot promise you shall live to regret it." The boy was petrified but the man laughed, as if he found the whole concept funny. The unicorn stomped in agitation before vanishing into the night.

The man turned to the boy, who was struggling out of his blankets to his feet, and said, "and what are you doing in this forsaken place? This is no place for mortal men, let alone boys!"

The boy said, "I had hoped to gain some useful information from certain folk in the region, if they were willing to talk to such as I."

The man shook his head, "what information can be worth your life? The folk in these parts are much more likely to kill or avoid you rather than speak with you. Men are not held in favor here."

The boy said, "but you seem to have no fear of them."

The man smiled knowingly, "I am not as vulnerable as some, such as yourself. Come, pack your things, we must be going."

The boy said, "I thank you for your assistance but I cannot leave."

The man stared at him, "you nearly lost your life and yet you refuse to leave? Why?"

The boy said, "I cannot leave until my horse returns, and I do not wish to leave until I have found the answers I seek."

The man said, "you are either a fool or have more courage than sense. Leave the animal, he is not worth your life. As for your answers, perhaps I can be of help, but let us be gone"

The boy brightened, "in what matters of lore are you knowledgeable?"

The man laughed, "an eager pupil I see. I know a few things many men do not and if I do not know what you seek, I can find someone who does, and perhaps even a sagacious person who will not kill you for your temerity."

The boy said, "then we shall leave as soon as my friend returns."

The man frowned, "I thought you awaited your horse? You said nothing of a friend abroad in the night."

The boy said, "he is one and the same."

The man shook his head, "this is not the time nor the place for tricks. No matter how you feel about the beast we cannot linger."

The boy said desperately, "I would not tarry for a simple beast, but this is no mere horse but a thinking creature."

The man eyed the boy strangely for a moment, but said, "we cannot abandon a sapient creature in this wretched place therefore we must risk the danger and wait. What strange story is this?"

The boy said, "the tale is his to tell."

The man smiled, "a true friend indeed."

They had not long to wait, for just then the horse wandered out of the night. He had smelled the stranger in the camp and worse, he had smelled the man's mount; something was not right about the pair of them. He also caught a faint trace of something else he could not put a name to. The man said, "here is your horse lad, we had best be going."

The horse eyed the boy skeptically and the boy nodded silently. They packed their things and were soon on their way out of that forbidden glade. They found a wide game trail going in the proper direction as the first glimmers of dawn greyed the eastern horizon. Erian was dying to speak with the boy but there was something he did not trust about the stranger and most especially his horse, thus he dared not betray that he was more than a silly horse.

"How long will you remain silent?" asked the strange mare. The boy nearly fell out of his saddle in alarm as Erian gave her a pleading look.

The man said gently to the mortified Erian, "do not be afraid, we mean you no harm. The boy told us you were no ordinary beast but said the tale was yours to tell."

Erian sighed and said, "I am not afraid."

"What then stills your tongue?" asked the man.

Erian hung his head and said, "shame."

"He is a rebel and traitor," scoffed the mare.

The man raised an eyebrow, "how can this be?"

The mare said, "it does not happen often, but even the Pegassi can stumble for the sake of pride. He was Asked but refused and has become an outcast and byword to his people and is used as an example to teach the little ones the cost of pride." If horses could weep, Erian would have done so.

Bryant broke in on his friend's behalf, "go easy upon him! He has suffered much for his pride and has learned well his lesson. He has returned to the King and serves Him as he can in such a state as he finds himself. He has risked much on my behalf though he need not have troubled himself so."

The man said, "peace my friend, for if the Master has forgiven, who are we to judge?"

The mare snorted noncommittally and finally sighed, "forgive my disdain, but it was a shock to us all. It gladdens my heart to know you have forsaken your pride and yearn to return to your people."

Erian looked up hopefully and Bryant patted his neck in reassurance. He glanced back at his friend and said, "now I know a little of what you have endured."

The man looked to the boy curiously and the full tale was told. Afterwards the man whistled and said, "this is the most peculiar pair of wanderers I have ever encountered in many, many miles and years. Now what is this strange quest you have set yourselves?"

The boy said hopefully, knowing now the identity of the strange mare, "we are looking for those called the Messengers and hope to enter their service, if they will have us."

The man nodded as if he expected nothing else and said, "it is a long and dangerous journey but I think together you can make it. Also know it is a dangerous life and you will certainly know fear, pain, sorrow, and shame in the course of your service. It is no easy life but you can render your King and all the world much service thereby. If you are still willing I shall set you on the Road to begin your adventures."

The boy exchanged a glance with Erian and they both nodded firmly. The man smiled deeply and said, "then you had best get started. It will be a long and weary road and will try your hearts severely, but stay true and let not your courage flag and you will come to the place you desire. You must not stray from the road for any reason, no matter how noble seeming the purpose, continue on your way regardless of the incentive to tarry or turn from the path. There are many tricksters and much false upon the road you are choosing to tread; if you heed them and give in to their ploys much grief shall result and you may never reach its end."

The boy asked, "if the road is that difficult, will you not come with us and lend us aid at need?"

The man said, "this path you must take alone for only those who reach its end will be taken into the service of the Messengers. It is a long and dangerous path and will weed out or destroy those whose motives are false, shallow, or selfish. Only those with a fervent desire to serve and willing to forsake all else to serve their King can complete the journey, but ware even they might meet dangers upon the road that they cannot overcome. This journey may claim both your lives ere you reach its end."

The boy and the horse exchanged another look and each saw firm resolve and a great eagerness in the eyes of the other. They nodded firmly once more and turned their attention back to the man. He laughed, "if any have the heart to complete this trek it is the pair of you. Mind what I have said, stray not far from the path for in so doing you may never find it again, and seek strength from our Great Father when things grow dark and your hearts are heavy. The Road will take you faithfully to its end, do not turn aside upon any crossroads or on any errands. Behold, the road is before you! Farewell my friends."

### Part II:

Suddenly they were gone; the mare had made to turn only to gallop off faster than the eye could follow. Erian watched after the long vanished pair with interest and said, "swift are the feet of the Pegassi in mortal lands! Come, we had best be off ourselves." Before he had vanished, the man had pointed out a path only broad enough for a single rider. Neither had noticed it before he spoke, yet neither were they surprised to see it before them, as if it had always been there and they had only failed to notice or could not previously see it.

"This is no normal path," said the boy.

Erian snorted, "this is no ordinary adventure. We do not need to commence on this journey but once we do, your life will never again be the same. By setting foot upon that path we are forsaking everything we hold dear in these Grey Lands to serve the King in whatever manner He thinks best. Personally, I have nothing that holds me to this wretched sphere, but you have friends and family that you may never see again."

The boy smiled ruefully, "my friends are nothing more than companions in depravity and my family already thinks me mad, if not dead. I have nothing to lose and certainly everything to gain. I am willing to take this path and meet whatever lies upon it or at its end. I am glad to have such a devoted companion on this dangerous and peculiar way."

Erian said quietly, "fear not that you leave all your friends behind."

They set forth eagerly upon the strange journey that had been set before them. Erian set a quick pace but one that would not overly tire him. He had found nothing of interest in his nocturnal wanderings but listened with interest as Bryant recounted his encounter with the unicorn. "What do you know of the Messengers?" asked the boy as they rode along.

Erian snorted, "I have told you all that I know. I ignored the topic in my former life for it pricked my conscious and troubled my pride-fraught mind. We shall have to discover that when we reach our destination."

Bryant said, "I do not think we ride any longer through the forgotten lands of the Elven Kings! This is certainly no ordinary path, what do you know of its route, length, and environs?"

The horse snorted a laugh, "I can sense this is no mortal road, but as to its length and through what lands it wends, I do not know, but I think we will meet things upon it sent to test our will and faith in this matter. We must stay true to the King and our goal no matter how difficult. I think this shall be a long and weary, but certainly not a tedious journey, ere we reach its end." The boy nodded his agreement.

The lands through which they had been riding had been a tangled wood where paths struggled and often failed but this was a well maintained thoroughfare with a seemingly tame wood on either hand. Bryant felt it was a place anything could happen. In reality the path was no path cut by mortal hands, though it wound its way through any and all the lands of men; its course was never the same and unchartable, for none could find it but those who had business upon it and once their business was done or if they strayed from the course, they could not find it again. Bryant noticed many fruitful trees and bushes, an abundance of rushing streams filled with trout, and a plethora of small game; if things continued like this at least it would not be a hungry journey. They pressed on until evening gathered but chose to end their travels early that day for there had been little sleep the previous night. They chose a small clearing along the edge of the road and made themselves at home.

Erian nibbled contentedly on the grass and said between mouthfuls, "sweeter grass I have never tasted in mortal lands. This alone was worth the journey!" Bryant laughed and agreed heartily as he tasted the delectable fruit that abounded in that spot.

It was a perfect evening and as the stars peeped out the crickets lulled them both to sleep. Morning came damp and early and after an enjoyable breakfast they were upon the road once more. The boy asked, "what does the grass taste like in your homeland?"

Erian said, "much as it did in the clearing but perhaps a bit sweeter and more crisp. We are still in the Grey Lands, though I think somehow this path touches or somehow hints of a place untainted by sorrow and death."

The boy said thoughtfully, "I long to see that land one day, for this is but a shadow and already I think it paradise! I could lie down under a tree and be content never again to stir."

Erian laughed, "perhaps that is one of the traps upon this road; some who would not be daunted by sorrow or danger might fall victim to peace, beauty, and indolence. While we may refresh ourselves upon the way let us not fall into that snare!"

The boy nodded grimly, "I had never thought of things in that way before but I think you are right. Let us be vigilant for other traps that we not fall into them as unwary fools."

They rode on for much of the day and in the afternoon came upon a man sitting by the side of the road. They had seen no other thinking creatures or signs of civilization since they had left their guide; they slowed to speak to the fellow, being both curious of the road and its nature and thankful for a moment not to be the only ones upon it.

"Well met," cackled the hunched old man from his seat upon a stone by the roadside, "would you be interested in helping an old man, me lad? I can pay well." With these words he rummaged in his ragged robe and pulled forth a handful of gold nuggets that glinted and flashed in the sun.

Bryant said politely, "what would you have of me sir?"

The man smiled and said, "I just need a little help with an odd job or two about my house, just off the road. Will you come and help an old man? I would even give you food and a bed and the company I am sure you are hungry for, traveling upon this abandoned road as you are."

The boy said, "I am sorry sir but I was bidden not to stray from the road by one I dare not disobey."

"Bah!" scoffed the old man, "Ungrateful and lazy, that is what you are! What is this generation coming too? Wretched child!" He shook his stick at the boy and hobbled off along a small trail leading off into the woods.

Erian shook his mane, "I cannot say he was the most polite fellow in the world but you did what you had to."

The boy sighed, "I just hate abandoning such worthy folk who might need our aid."

Erian said, "I wonder how 'worthy' the folk are we shall meet upon the way? I know your heart wants to aid those whom you can, but we were bidden not to stray from the path by one who knows the truth of the matter. I cannot see how we would be given that injunction if there were truly those upon the way that could benefit by our aid. I think all will have some nefarious scheme or plot and are set here to test our resolve. Do not feel guilty for what must be done; fear not, for soon enough you shall be rendering aid to all who cannot help themselves, but only if we succeed and that we will not if we stray from our course." The boy smiled weakly and they returned to their journey.

As night fell, they came upon a man cutting wood in front of his cottage just off the road. He stopped and wiped sweat from his brow and greeted the travelers, saying, "and where are you off to lad?"

They stopped and Bryant said, "wherever the road takes us sir."

The man leaned upon his axe and said, "then be wary of the dangers upon the road. I have seen many come this way with eyes full of eagerness for adventure and danger and I hear many tales of the griefs that have befallen those who are not firm in their course. Some do not even make it this far. There is an old man on the road not far from here who seems innocent enough and asks all who pass by to aid him in some small task in return for a hunk of raw gold. What he does not tell them is that if they follow him from the path they are soon set upon by evil men and made to toil away the rest of their lives as slaves in his gold mine."

Bryant exchanged a significant look with Erian and now felt no unease at all for refusing to aid the man. As it was evening and nearly time they settled in for the night, Bryant slid from the saddle to speak more easily with the man. "What can you tell me of this road?" asked the boy, "Is it the same for all who travel upon it? Does it have a set course or does it change? Are we yet in mortal lands or in some strange middle world between the mortal and the eternal?"

The man laughed, "you are yet in the Grey Lands and the road wends as it will; its course no man can map and none are upon it by accident. Where it ends or begins none know and perhaps it has neither, save for those who reach their destination. There are certain things ever found upon it, such as the old man and myself, but not all travelers encounter the same things. What lies upon your path none but the Master knows. There are forces here for good and evil and some for their own purposes but all have their part in what each traveler must endure. No two journeys are the same. More I cannot tell you."

"What is your part in all of this?" asked the boy.

The man said, "this is where I live and what part I play, even I do not know, for my role is never the same twice. Mostly I just live out my life as any other man serving the weary travelers as I may. I answer their questions and give them encouragement and advice if they would receive it. Is there aught I can do for you?"

The boy said, "at the moment we are well. Is there any advice or warning you might give us for what might lie further upon our road?"

The man shook his head, "save for the old man I can give no warnings save that which you already know: if you wish to reach your journey's end do not stray far from the path."

The man's wife saw they had company and quickly brought out warm water and a towel that the boy might wash the trail dust from his face and hands. Erian revealed himself as something more than a silly horse and the four shared a merry evening before all retired for the night. Bryant slept near the road and was wakened early by their host and his wife, who gave him a good breakfast before seeing him on his way.

Erian said happily, "it seems that there are more than traps upon this path but we must yet be wary of strangers." The boy agreed as they rode on.

For another day and a night they encountered no one but the following morning they came upon a beautiful but tragic sight. In a clearing with a mirror like pool in its midst stood the most beautiful creature Bryant had ever seen, eclipsing even the unicorn in its glory. A mare, white as the snow but glittering with golden fire in the new risen sun, stood on the far edge of the pool and it reflected her glory. This was no mortal horse, for wisdom was in her eyes and two great wings were folded gracefully upon her back or would have been had not one hung limply, dragging in the muddied edge of the pond. Erian seemed dazzled by the scene.

"Please," said a voice, "I am lost and injured and alone with none to help me. I am far from my home. Will you help me?"

"Who is she?" whispered the boy.

Erian seemed to reply from a great distance, "one of my own people; visible in all her glory to mortal eye. We must help her." Bryant sharply jerked the reins as Erian made to move in the direction of the pond; during their travels he rarely touched the reins, usually allowing Erian his head. Erian nearly reared in protest, "what are you doing? She needs our help!"

Bryant said quietly, "patience and wait. If she wishes she may accompany us but we must not leave our path to aid her."

Erian shook himself and started suddenly, as if awakening from some dream. He said to the mare, "fear not my lady, we mean you no harm. What is it you seek?"

The mare said demurely, "I know the path to my homeland but dare not take it alone for it is dark and filled with danger. Will you not accompany me that I might not be afraid?"

Erian said, "follow us upon our path and it will lead you home. We cannot veer from our course."

The innocence and shyness suddenly vanished from her eyes and wrath boiled in their depths as she screamed, "what know you of the path? Come, it is death upon that way! I shall not follow you but you shall certainly abandon me to die." Suddenly the monstrous reptilian head of some aquatic monster rose above the face of the pond and made to snap at the pair upon the road, but Erian saw their danger and was gone with all the speed he possessed.

"A siren!" growled the horse as he ran, "I should have known better. I owe you my life my friend!" They ran on.

Bryant had been long asleep when he felt Erian gently nudging him awake with his nose. He said quietly to the groggy boy, "quickly hide. I hear voices upon the road."

The boy scurried out of his blankets and hid his gear and himself as quickly and silently as he could in the vegetation along the road. Erian also vanished into the brush. Three men astride horses rode slowly along the road and chatted quietly amongst themselves; the moon was high and gave enough light to see the road well. They spied the clearing and by common agreement dismounted and began making camp.

Bryant said quietly, "I think we had best see who our visitors are. We cannot remain hidden forever in the woods." Erian nodded reluctantly. Bryant grasped the hilt of his sword and stepped from under cover.

The three strangers saw the movement and went for their weapons. One asked sternly, "who goes?"

Bryant was silent for a moment in shock at recognizing the voice but finally said, "Ephod?"

The other was silent a moment in return and said in a strangled voice, "Bryant?" Bryant stepped out of the shadows into the light of the moon that they might see him. Ephod gasped, "how can this be? We all thought you dead or worse at the hands of that thing!"

Bryant said, "I was miraculously rescued before any harm befell me. What are you doing out here upon this strange path and who are your friends?" Ephod was one of his former companions in carousal.

Ephod said, "after you were taken there was much talk and many rumors flying about the city over what had happened to you and what it might mean. Then an old man with ideas as crazy as yours appeared and the people actually began to listen. Against my better judgment I listened too and later talked with the old fool alone and asked about you and the strange creature and asked if there was no way to defend against such a monster. He said there was but one way, but that it must not be attempted by the selfish or faint of heart. We have set out in search of the answer. My companions are the sons of two of the lesser lords of Ithamar."

Bryant was stunned, "you seek to join the Messengers?"

Ephod laughed, "of course! Why else tread this cursed path? I take it that is why you also walk this road?"

Bryant nodded, "but I thought you laughed at all I espoused."

Ephod did laugh and said, "and still do. I do not understand what that nonsense has to do with the Messengers. I will become one of them and return to Ithamar to defend our people from further assaults by such fiends."

Erian said, "you cannot join the Messengers unless you serve the King heart, body, and soul. You must forsake all you hold dear in these Grey Lands and serve the Great King alone. This path may well destroy you if you take it with the wrong motive."

Ephod was stunned for a moment by a talking horse but then he had already seen stranger things upon this road and was beginning to believe anything possible. He said, "and what would a horse know in this matter? Be silent beast and let your betters speak."

"He speaks truly," said Bryant.

Ephod laughed, "we shall see who is right at the end of this trek. Until then let us not quarrel about the details."

Bryant asked, "how did you come to find the path?"

Ephod shrugged, "we talked with the Wanderer for a time and learned what we could then set out to find it. We met a plainly clad man not far outside the city and he pointed us to the path and warned us not to stray from the road for any reason. We can speak more in the morning, I am weary, let us sleep for what remains of the night."

All did as he suggested, and after a breakfast of the ever abundant produce, they mounted and set forth for the day. Ephod asked after Bryant's adventures and briefly recounted their own, which were few as they had been upon the road but a day. Afterwards, Ephod said, "this is certainly a strange place. I hope the reward is worth the trouble! If it is half what is rumored in story I shall be the greatest warrior in all of Ithamar and even your father will have to acknowledge my greatness."

Bryant asked, "what tales have you heard of the Messengers? I know very little of what it is I am attempting!"

Ephod laughed, "your father is not fond of myth and legend so I am not surprised he tried to keep such tales from his children. Much is said in the legends of this warriorfolk who oppose the vilest minions of evil. They are said to ride winged horses, to have swords that shine like the sun, and they do not taste of death, no matter how badly wounded. It is said none can stand against them in battle. Can you imagine being such a warrior?"

Erian shook his mane in consternation, knowing the boy for a fool but he dared not speak, knowing the boy would only chasten him again and his warnings would fall on deaf ears. Bryant patted his neck in reassurance knowing his friend's angst. The other boys in the party were mostly silent and let their esteemed leader do most of the talking. They wanted adventure and to be heroes and all the power, glory, and riches attendant thereunto. They cared as little for the King as their fearless leader.

Ephod said, "this tale of yours as regards the siren and the old man, they disturb me greatly. This shall be a dangerous road if such things are common. Let us take an oath friends to be true to one another and not abandon our cause for lesser things." The other two agreed vigorously but Bryant was silent. Ephod said, "what is the matter? Do you not care for your friends any longer?"

Bryant said, "I will do nothing contrary to the will and laws of the King."

Ephod sighed and said, "suit yourself but let us see what your stubbornness gains you when trouble befalls us and you have no one to aid you."

Bryant said, "I will aid you as I can. I am only saying that if you choose to do something foolish that I do not promise to go down with you into infamy."

Ephod laughed, "we shall see who is the foolish one!"

They kicked their horses to a quicker pace and did not speak again for some hours. They came to a village in the early afternoon and it seemed that some sort of celebration or fair was in progress. Cheerful music filled the air and girls in bright colors flitted about like butterflies in a whirlwind. Everywhere was food and animated chatter and smiling faces. The four boys stopped their horses in the midst of the village through which the road continued on.

An important seeming fellow, the Mayor it appeared, approached with a broad grin on his face. He said, "welcome weary travelers. Will you not rest for a time and enjoy the hospitality of our village? We have many delights for weary hearts. Perhaps you will choose to stay permanently as many of your kind have done? You would be the honored guests at our feast this night."

Erian snorted as if he smelled something foul and said, "move on my lords, for there is something not right in this place. They look innocent men but there is something dangerous and vile beneath the surface."

Bryant trusted Erian's judgment and did not hinder him as he moved away. The mayor looked offended and tried to plead with the boys but they followed Bryant without a word. Once they were out of the village they heard what sounded a stampede behind them. They looked over their shoulders and to their horror, saw the village gone and all its folk terribly changed and rushing after the travelers like an onrushing flood. The horses needed no urging to run from the charging mass of snarling beasts each bristling with claws, teeth, and horns with no two alike but all covered in a leathery greenish grey hide.

"What were those!" gasped Ephod.

Erian said, "I am not sure exactly but some nasty branch of the pixie family that has certainly come under the sway of the Enemy. Goblins I think they would be called by most men."

Ephod shuddered, "how did you know them my dear beast? I now apologize for what I said last night. You are no dumb brute."

Erian seemed content with the apology and said, "they smelled wrong and my skin crawled, which I can only assume was a byproduct of their foul magics."

Bryant asked, "why were you willing to follow us when you doubt my sanity?"

Ephod laughed, "I do not doubt your sanity, just your tales of this King of yours. You somehow survived your encounter with a Dreadlord and have survived thus far upon this road so I am more apt to trust you than myself in this matter. You are the more experienced captain and may lead until I learn the ways of this Road enough to supplant you."

As twilight fell they found a place to camp and spent the evening in quiet conversation. Bryant was silent, for the talk of the others held little interest for him now and they found him quite dull from their own perspective. He wondered that he had ever found such vapid and vain talk interesting and the greatest delight of his day.

Ephod asked, before they retired to their blankets, "have you become such a boor that you can no longer take joy in your old friends?"

Bryant said simply, "I am not the man I once was and no longer find joy in what once I did."

Ephod shook his head and said, "then I pray I never suffer whatever it is that afflicts you."

Erian said quietly in Bryant's ear, "I think that was a compliment." Bryant exchanged a grateful grin with his friend and soon fell asleep.

Morning found a beautiful elf maiden seated on a log at the forest's edge holding a harp and strumming quietly. The music was soothing but spoke of epic adventure and noble purpose just beyond the edge of sight. The boys were all awake and stared in wonder. She blushed shyly but kept up her music. Erian's ears flicked back and forth in consternation.

Bryant drew his eyes from the maiden and said quietly, "what is it?"

Erian snorted, "this just minds me of all the other traps we have avoided on this precarious journey. Be careful."

Ephod was on his feet and futilely tried to tame his hair before approaching the lady. He bowed politely as he kissed her proffered hand. She smiled coyly and said, "what brings you hither my lords?"

Ephod smiled broadly, puffed out his chest, and said in a deep voice that sounded fake, "we ride to adventure and fame my lady."

She said, "then if heroes you be, I have a quest to set before you. My father is a great lord among my people and is in desperate need of hardy young men such as yourselves. If you prove yourselves valiant and noble in this quest he has promised to give one such youth my hand in marriage and he would be heir to my father's throne." The three boys exchanged an eager look but then realized that there were three of them and only one elf maiden. Jealous and angry looks began to fester in their eyes and they fingered their swords.

"Enough!" said Bryant, "If you wish to continue upon our road let us be off. She is as false as every other deceiver we have met upon the way. If you have not the heart to continue, by all means fall for her lies but let us tarry no longer."

A scowl crossed her beautiful face at the intrusion and this unfortunate display of emotion had the effect of breaking her spell upon the others. They drew their hands from their sword hilts and moved away from the woman. No sooner had they turned their backs on her than an evil hag sat in her place. Ephod was nauseous at the thought of kissing that gnarled and warty hand. They were soon in their saddles and riding away with all speed. She cackled and vanished into the woods.

Ephod asked of Erian, "what would have happened had we gone with her?"

Erian said, "one cannot be sure but she probably would have cast some terrible spell upon you if you had not killed each other in a jealous rage."

Ephod shook his head, "the renown at the end of this road must certainly be great if so much effort is put forth to hinder our pursuit."

They rode on in silence but had not gone far when they found the road blocked by six armed and unfriendly looking men. The hag stood beside the captain's horse and spoke to him quietly while casting gleeful glances full of malice towards the four boys. The men rode forward with swords bared and the boys reached for their own weapons.

The captain said sternly, "put up your weapons and come with us that we might settle this matter. This poor woman claims that one of you young rascals has done her much insult this morning. We are charged with keeping the peace upon this highway and will not have marauders and scoundrels upon it. Drop your weapons or we will use force."

Bryant said grimly, "this witch came upon us sleeping peacefully and through her vile craft would have deceived my friends but I gave warning and they wisely heeded my advice. We did nothing to impugn the lady that she has not truthfully done to herself. We have an important errand to be about and must be upon our way."

The man growled, "you are strangers here and we will not believe your lies over the words of an upstanding citizen such as she."

Bryant said, "what upstanding citizen is in league with the Dark Prince that she might use his power for vile gain at the expense of others?"

The captain did not waste time on words but raised his sword and spurred his horse towards the boys. As they fell upon their outnumbered foes, they passed right through the astonished boys and no injury was given or taken by either side. The hag cackled in delight, "what think you of my ghastly army lads? To think you could have joined them had you but listened to me."

"What is she saying?" gasped Bryant to the futile captain, who sat his horse beside the boy.

He said quietly, while glancing nervously at the hag, who was taunting the rest of the party, "we fell afoul of her spell and are trapped in her power. We are neither dead nor alive. While she lives or time lasts we are trapped in this ghostly twilight. You did well to stand against her a second time. Those who escape the elf maiden often fall to her representation of force though we cannot harm a living being." The hag said something in a foul language and the six men and horses vanished; she laughed the louder and vanished herself. The boys exchanged a horrified look and continued on their way.

They traveled on for several more days but nothing of interest happened and the boys began to grow weary in their vigilance. The way became steeper and narrower; the trees, streams, and abundant food gave way to a land of stunted grass and barren rock. The sun seared overhead by day and the watery moon languished in the freezing night. Their food dwindled and their waterskins ran dry. The horses stumbled in weariness and grew thin on the sparse, coarse grass. Spirits flagged and sank; hope and eagerness waned.

"What have you brought us to?" panted one of the lordlings, "I will not remain to die of thirst in this horrible land. I will return to the verdant forests we have just left."

Erian said grimly, "you cannot go back. The path back will vanish and leave you alone in this wilderness to truly die alone and parched. Stay the course and we shall find refreshment ere we die."

"I will not take advice from a horse!" scowled the youth and turning his horse, vanished the way they had come only to discover Erian had been right.

The others exchanged a desperate look but pressed on. As night fell they came upon a small pool in the shadow of a great cliff fed by an underground spring. They quenched their thirst and filled their waterskins. The horses grazed gratefully on the vegetation that flourished upon its banks. With higher spirits they continued on and the waste gradually gave way to a great plain of lush grass and swift rivers. They could once more find small game, fish, and edible vegetation; the horses flourished in such a land. The plain soon gave way to the foothills of a great mountain range, and as they passed under the shadow of one of those cliffs a great shriek rent the sky and threw the horses into fits.

A griffin landed on the path before them and shrieked again. The horses threw their riders and fled. The griffin growled, "you may turn back but you shall not go ahead without paying the toll."

"And what is the price," said Ephod in a quavering voice from the ground.

The creature yawned widely that they might better appreciate his vicious beak; he smiled hungrily and said, "one must remain that I might do with him as I please. The others may go on." The three boys and Erian exchanged a horrified look.

"We cannot go back," said Bryant firmly.

Ephod quavered, "I certainly would rather go back than stay with this fiend."

The third boy said, "I will not face the fiend's wrath neither will I wait to see what becomes of those who remain behind." He leapt to his feet and ran from the path and vanished from sight beyond a far hill.

"Well?" asked the griffin.

Bryant sighed, "I suppose I will be the one to stay. Ephod you had best go on."

The boy stood shakily and said, "no offense or anything but as long as you are determined to pay the price one of us had better make good use of it." Without a backwards glance he ran down the road and out of sight.

The griffin looked to the horse, "and you?"

The horse said, "I will stay with my friend."

The griffin snorted, "at least you have one true friend. I will not part such dear companions."

The boy laughed, "you are not going to do something terrible to us?"

The griffin shrieked a laugh, "if I were going to destroy you I would not have given any of you the chance to flee. An evil griffin is not a reasonable creature."

Erian whinnied a laugh, "I thought as much. What will come of the boy who ran ahead?"

The griffin shook his head, "that I know not. He must face the coming trials alone. They have escaped many traps because of you two but the rest he must face on his own. He can parasitize your sense and courage no longer."

Bryant sighed, "what happens if he successfully reaches the end but his heart is not where it should be?"

The griffin said, "I am not sure but I think he will be denied his desire. Completing the journey is not enough: you must also fervently wish to serve the King. You may go on now. Such is the nature of the road that your path will not cross that of your friend until perhaps the very end, if then."

They bid the griffin farewell and continued on their way. In fact they had not much further to go, for two days after their encounter with the griffin they came to the end of the road. The road came to the very edge of a chasm that seemed made of night itself. They could not go on.

Erian looked longingly across the Rift at the lands that lay beyond the reach of mortal men and said, "behold the Brightlands."

"What now?" asked the boy as he stared in dread at the seeming end of the road.

Erian said, "I suppose we wait." And wait they did.

Ephod ran on until he collapsed breathlessly, determined to go on no matter the cost. One of them had to reach the end. Bryant was a fool, and though he felt a small pang of sadness at the thought, at least his foolishness allowed Ephod to accomplish that which his heart most desired. His nights were filled with sleeplessness as all manner of things moved and croaked and shrieked in the darkness. He had little to eat so was always hungry and though there were streams about, they were far between and it was a long, thirsty walk to the next rivulet. He saw all manner of folk who beckoned him off the path with all sorts of noble and infamous quests, promises of fame, wealth, or power but he pressed on doggedly. Finally he came to the end of the road. Exhausted and half starved he collapsed in shock to see Bryant already there. Bryant hastened to the stricken boy and refreshed him with water and what little food he yet had in his saddlebags.

"What came of the griffin?" gasped Ephod upon regaining the use of his tongue.

Bryant smiled, "he meant no harm and after a brief chat allowed us to go on our way."

Ephod said, "but you never passed me upon the road."

Bryant shrugged, "such is the nature of the path."

"Now what?" asked Ephod, "Where does the road go?"

Bryant shrugged unconcernedly, "the path leads into the Rift thus we are forced to wait."

"Wait for what?" asked Ephod, regaining his feet.

"For me," said a menacing voice. Both boys and Erian looked in horror upon a Dreadlord.

"This is not what I had expected to find at journey's end," said Bryant, standing and drawing his sword.

The fell thing laughed like creaking bones, "what can anyone hope to expect who makes such a futile journey? Now you will not even have the luxury of hope. This time you will die wretch; I had thought the griffin had had his way with you. But it matters not."

He raised his vile sword and Bryant prepared to defend himself; Ephod scurried away to a safe distance and Erian paced in agitation, knowing he could do nothing to oppose the fiend and help his friend. The Dreadlord laughed, "fool! Do you think a mortal blade can do anything to harm me?"

Bryant stood his ground, though the fear emanating from his foe should have driven him to his knees in terror. He said, "it is the only defense I have."

The thing laughed scornfully but his mirth was cut short, as was the stroke of his sword, as it was blocked by an unexpected blade. Bryant's face blossomed into a grin of joy and relief to see the man who had come to his rescue back in the wildlands and set them upon this journey. "The boy is mine by right!" snarled the Dreadlord.

The plainly clad man said grimly, "he belongs to none but the King and that by his own choosing. You have no claim upon him."

The Dreadlord retreated from his foe, not yet admitting defeat but unwilling to face the consequences should the man's blade find its mark. Content that the fell creature was cowed for the moment, the man approached the three travelers. The Dreadlord watched keenly with his burning eyes.

"Thank you," said Bryant quietly; the man smiled deeply and only nodded in answer.

"I have made it," said Ephod proudly, "I have suffered much and survived countless traps and trials to be found worthy of that which I seek. Why do we wait here pointlessly on the edge of this abyss?"

The man said nothing to Ephod's exclamation, turning to Bryant and Erian he asked, "and what have you two to say of all this?"

Bryant looked at his feet and said, "I claim to know nothing sir. I set out upon a journey in hopes of reaching its end. Now that it seems to be ended in that I can go no further, I can only hope there is one to show me the way."

Erian said, "I concur with my friend. I am as ignorant as he."

The man turned to Ephod and said, "what say you of the answers of your friends?"

The boy shrugged and said, "they are fools and have ever been so. They are certainly not worthy of such an honor."

"None are worthy in their own right," said the man quietly, "only the King's grace and the Son's blood make us so."

"Fairytales!" laughed Ephod, "Fit only for children and imbeciles."

The man smiled grimly, "that is why it is said one can only enter the Kingdom with faith as a little child. Your pride makes you an old man; this is not the place for you, yet. Go and seek wisdom and humility and then return and we shall see what we can make of you."

Ephod's mouth dropped and the Dreadlord sneered under his helm. Ephod growled, "you dare deny me that for which I have suffered so much?"

The man said sadly, "your friends did try to tell you but you would not listen. I deny you nothing, you deny the King and therefore you deny yourself serving in His name."

"What of him?" scowled Ephod, "Certainly he is less worthy even than I."

The man said, "he has come faithfully and humbly though he knew not what to expect. He will not be denied. Nor will his dear friend." Bryant and Erian looked quite stunned though it was for this that they had ever been hoping.

Ephod sneered, "you would allow a horse such an honor but deny me the same? If that be so then I want none of your so-called honor and glory."

The man said quietly, "we have no glory of our own, only the merest reflection of that of our Master. Will you not soften your heart and listen?"

Ephod drew away from the man and said, "I will never be such a fool!"

The Dreadlord interjected, "if it is glory and power you seek boy, my master has enough for all. Come away with me and realize all your dreams and more. Do not settle for what these pitiful fools pretend to deny you, for they have nothing to give."

Bryant said desperately, "do not be a fool Ephod! He is a liar and a true servant of the Master of Lies. Do not doom your soul and shackle yourself to a living death."

"Bah," scoffed the Dreadlord, "he knows nothing of it. Come with me or rue it forever."

"Can you do nothing?" asked the desperate Bryant of the man.

He shook his head sadly and said, "if he chooses freely to go with the Dreadlord I cannot interfere. Your friend speaks truly lad, do not do such a terrible thing."

Ephod smiled maliciously, "if I refuse to go with him will you offer me a place amongst you?"

The man shook his head sadly, "such is not mine to offer nor can such a heart accept it were it possible."

Ephod smiled at the miserable trio disdainfully and walked towards the waiting Dreadlord, who had mounted his abominable beast. "You have chosen wisely," hissed the Dreadlord, as he reached down and drew the boy into the saddle before him. Without another word they vanished swiftly from sight.

"What will come of him?" asked Bryant of the grieved man.

The man sighed and said, "if he does not change his mind by the time they pass the gates of the Infernal Realms he may end a Soldier or even a Dreadlord if it pleases their fell master. If he does recant, he will meet a miserable death. I cannot see it ending well, whatever betide." He smiled slightly then and said, "your friend has chosen his fate and we shall dwell no more upon it unless we encounter him again. Now what of you? Are you still willing to finish that which you have begun? The warning I gave at our parting still holds. This will not be the last sorrow and grief you must bear in such service, nor are physical pain and other remnants of mortal life spared us.

Until we cross the River and enter the Brightlands we shall never be free of such suffering, but there are those who desperately need our aid and no one else can render it. Of course it is not all misery, for we have the boundless hope of the King and his Spirit abides within us to strengthen, guide, and comfort always. There is also much joy in our service. The choice is before you." The boy went to one knee before the man, who hastily bid him rise, saying, "kneel not before me lad, for I am but a servant of the King just as you. You owe such homage to the King alone."

The boy smiled ruefully and said, "my heart desires nothing else." Erian whinnied his agreement.

The man smiled deeply once more and said, "then you must drink of the River and immerse yourselves in the shallows. Do not cross it, else you cannot return to mortal lands."

They both looked in wonder upon what once to their eyes had been the Rift, but was now a great river flowing swift and deep. Erian said with joy tingeing his voice, "this is again as I once knew it."

The man smiled, "your eyes have been opened once more to things long hidden to mortal sight."

They approached the River with joy but also trepidation as two toddlers the sea. They exchanged a smile and then drank of its water: their minds and souls were immediately opened to things long hidden from mortal ken. They exchanged a look of pure awe and then plunged beneath the crystal waters. When they emerged they did not immediately recognize one another.

Erian reared for joy, spreading his great wings and flinging diamond droplets of water everywhere, glittering in the sun as they fell, again in his proper form, he looked much like the beautiful mare they had encountered upon their odyssey, save taller and more heavily muscled. The formerly travel stained youth stood a man in his prime with joy writ deep in his eyes, clothed all in white, clad in silver armor with a great sword at his side.

They then turned to the man, who was now garbed as the boy. His mare had been standing placidly by, observing the little drama, she whickered a greeting to her kinsman, "welcome home, my brother."

Erian snorted, "this would have been far easier had I simply said yes the first time!"

They all shared a laugh and the man clapped the boy on the back and said, "welcome to the Messengers."

The boy smiled and said, "now will you explain to me what it is we do, for no one seems to know?"

The man laughed heartily and drew him aside to a quiet place that they might speak ay length. The Pegassi followed companionably and relaxed after the manner of their kind. The man smiled as he began, "you have traveled far and endured much for the sake of something you do not understand; that is the determination and faith it takes to serve among us. It is not an easy life, but certainly never dull and of much benefit to our Lord and His thinking creatures. Long ago, before time and everything we call 'reality,' the Enemy rebelled and was cast from the presence of the King. Thus has war raged between them until the Last Day, when the villain will be defeated once and for all.

Whatever the King does the Enemy opposes: he subverts or destroys it as he can. Thus when the King chose to make the worlds the Enemy was there to turn it to his advantage. Now he could not touch anything the Master had made and destroy it himself but he could tempt, lie, nudge, and hint, hoping the thing might destroy itself. And that is what happened. Believing the Enemy over their own Lord, the progenitors of men rebelled and were cast out of paradise, as did others of various race after them. Such rebels and their tainted descendants now dwell in the Grey Lands: the fallen sphere of creation where death and sorrow attend all the aspirations of men. There the Dark Lord can roam among them and have what influence he will, but neither has the King abandoned His rebellious children. The servants of the Dark Prince are abroad upon the earth but so too are the servants of the King.

Many hundreds of years ago the King's own Son was sent to pay the price to redeem fallen creation though it was a debt He did not owe. The price paid, all thinking creatures have only to turn to Him to save themselves from the dark and dangerous world in which they dwell. The Enemy had thought he had had quite the victory when the ignorant and rebellious folk of the Grey Lands killed the very Son of the King, but death could not hold Him and He lives once more and has broken the iron grip of the Villain upon creation, if only we would seek the remedy instead of lingering in our disease. While each soul must choose for itself whether to accept or deny their True King, the servants of the Enemy go abroad wreaking havoc and death wherever it pleases their master.

We are those who choose to oppose them, that their destruction might be minimized, leaving mortal souls in peace to decide as they will. Wherever the forces of darkness and evil are gathered, there are we sent to give what aid we may. They cannot be killed, for such things are beyond death, but we can banish them back beyond the Dark Mountains and there their master does with them as he pleases, whether to renew them to wreak havoc once more or to banish them to the Abyss and start anew with another vile servant. Seven of the Dreadlords are ever abroad and causing trouble and under each an unknown number of nearly mindless Soldiers serve. The Soldiers can hardly think for themselves but their numbers give them strength and the Dreadlords give them direction."

They can fight without need of guidance and if they are told to guard a road they will, but they are not wise enough to imagine that someone might sneak around and take the needful precautions. The riding beasts of the Dreadlords are even worse, being not living (or once living creatures) but simply a collection of bones, sinew, and hide animated by the will of its rider. The horses of the Soldiers are as mindless as their master: once mortal beasts, they have been corrupted just as their riders. The Dreadlords can control them as well. If you find yourself facing such a force, if you can vanquish the Dreadlord, his Soldiers will fall into disarray and then can be easily dispatched, but they know this and send the Soldiers to the fore and only after they have been dealt with do they themselves confront us. Your sword is highly effective against such fiends but will not deal mortals an injurious blow, the stroke may perhaps sting but it renders them no permanent harm. Mortal weapons cannot touch us; the weapons of the Soldiers burn as if fresh from the forge but render no harm. The weapons of the Dreadlords also burn only worse, and if they strike a mortal blow send us back to the River from whence we must set out again."

The boy asked, "can they kill us?"

The man said, "they can cause us much pain or banish us back to the River but none can die who have drunk of the River of Life. If ever you grow weary of battle and sorrow seek once more the River, cross over it into the Brightlands, and find rest but know that in so doing you cannot return to continue the fight until the Last Day."

The boy asked, "so we are something immortal dwelling yet in mortal lands?"

The man smiled, "I think you begin to understand. All souls are immortal, most just do not yet realize it. Once made, a soul is never destroyed and where eternity is lived depends upon what the creature chooses to do with the King. Rebels are cast forever across the Mountains of Night, never to return."

The boy nodded grimly and then asked, "what is the sorrow you speak of? The physical pain I understand, but what is this great grief?"

The man said, "we roam yet in lands where death and sorrow linger and thus drink of that cup ourselves. There will be times of great trial and at other times you will not triumph or things will go badly for those you were sent to defend, or you will witness things to grieve the heart, most especially souls that refuse to accept the King. It is of this I speak. If things go ill, do not despair for it is the way of the world; one day all will be made right. But do what you can and remain faithful to Him who sent you. The greatest danger we face is that of falling away. In a mortal such a shortcoming can yet be remedied but you have tasted of the Water and therefore if you turn aside there is no returning. No matter what you endure or witness you must not lose hope and deny your Master else all is lost."

The boy's eyes were wide at this revelation but he asked, "what then is our relation to living men and other thinking creatures?"

The man said, "you will appear to them as I appeared to you when first we met; they cannot see you as you truly are even as you could not see the River. You may walk among them and interact with them and often must in the course of your service to the King, but we are no longer mortal ourselves thus we need neither food, water, nor rest but it also means that such things as marriage and other serious human commitments, such as ruling a country, are forbidden to us. You are ever a servant of the King and always a nomad and wanderer, thus you cannot build lasting relationships or settle down among them. Their weapons cannot harm us and neither can their prisons and ropes bind us. If so troubled, all you need do is will yourself free of your bonds and you can pass through walls or ropes like sunshine through a window. The elves and other naturally undying races are slightly different. Their weapons can render pain, a slight irritation as compared to that inflicted by the weapons of the Enemy but still noticeable. Such folk see us for what we are and wish no trouble with us or with the Enemy's servants, wishing only to be left to themselves. They for the most part ignore us, but occasionally we have business among them, much to their irritation. Those who are willingly in service to evil, such as the goblins and the various hags and sorcerers, can fall to our blades but all others are affected as other mortals by our weapons."

This reminded the boy of something he had seen upon the Road and he asked, "upon my journey hither we encountered a hag who had entrapped several young men in her witchery. Is there no way to rescue them?"

The man said quietly, "they were warned before starting the journey and failed to heed that warning, earning for themselves the affliction which you witnessed. One day they shall be freed as shall all others in bondage, but it is not for us to know the time or the means. Your duty is to focus on that which is set before you. You cannot go venturing forth alone on various crusades else you will be seen as a rebel and cast aside." The boy shuddered and nodded grimly.

The man smiled slightly and said, "I am not trying to terrify you, simply to acquaint you with what it is to be in service to the Messengers. You must not turn aside from the quest set before you, such was the true test of the Road. Having passed through that ordeal all else should be relatively simple."

The boy smiled and asked, "how many of us are there? Do we ride together or alone?"

The man laughed warmly, "the first I cannot answer but there are enough of us. We usually ride alone, but occasionally there are times we ride together on certain missions, but you are never truly alone, for we are seldom parted from the Pegassi with which we are paired and even then the King is ever with us."

The boy laughed for joy and asked, "tell me more of the Pegassi."

The man said, "they are a free and noble folk who dwell in the Blessed Mountains upon the very rim of the Brightlands and are the one folk that have not rebelled against the King, save for an individual or two in all their history. They only cross the River if cast out in rebellion or called to serve with the Messengers. They serve as our wings but more importantly as our companions and guides. Trust well to their advice for they can sense things to which we ourselves might well be blind. Trust also their guidance for they are wise in all the ways of the King and know much of the fallen world and the Enemy. If you doubt your path trust in their sure feet and you will not be led astray. They give company in loneliness and encouragement in despair. But for them, we could not be half so effective in what we are sent to do. They are swift of foot and can cross an entire continent in one great leap. Unlike us, they cannot be touched by any weapon of the Enemy or mankind."

Erian asked, "why is it that all other folk who chose to rebel and cross the River did not suffer a loss of skills and physical form as severely as I when I was exiled? I was little more than a common horse able to think for itself."

The man said, "all who cross the River in rebellion suffer greatly for their sins. All lose the close communion once held with the King, for sin sunders us thus, but the effects upon physical form, native talent, and individual souls and minds varies with race and form of rebellion. The Fairyfolk chose to leave, whereas you and mankind willingly rebelled and were cast out of paradise. The former suffered little loss in physical form or native talents but lost much in the areas of heart, soul, and mind. The latter showed much more effect in all areas. While a unicorn on this side of the River may look much the same as a unicorn on the untainted side of the River, they are far from similar. The former is a rebellious, stubborn, selfish, and small minded creature while the latter is everything wise, noble, selfless, and great of heart. A mortal unicorn is something altogether tragic if you have seen what they were truly meant to be. So are we all fallen." The mare made an indignant noise. The man smiled and laughed, "forgive me Sebiki, you have never suffered such a denigration." She seemed placated and returned to her former state of patient bliss.

The boy asked, "what is it we do exactly?"

The man smiled, "that is an excellent question and I can give but poor answer. We do many things but nothing I can sum up in few words. Our main duty is to oppose the Dreadlords and other servants of the Enemy, but we are often set various other strange and diverse tasks be it giving warning to an obstinate people, opposing other evils in the world, rescuing someone from the powers of darkness, aiding those who seek to join us, advising those who might otherwise go astray, and many other things."

The boy smiled, "at least I will not get bored."

The man laughed, "no lad, that you never will." He continued, "the one other thing I should tell you is that time passes strangely for us. A year may last a year, a day, or you may skip it altogether, depending on where and when you are needed."

The boy asked, "how do I know what my next mission will be? Is there someone we report to?"

The man shook his head, "sometimes we are sent to advise or speak with one another but usually you know already that which you must and if you do not your Pegassi will." The boy looked rather confused and the man smiled, saying, "it sounds strange but soon it will be the most natural thing in the world. For your first assignment we shall ride together, that you may experience firsthand that of which I have been speaking. I am called Garren. Have you any further questions?"

The boy thought for a moment and seemed troubled, as he said, "is there no hope for Ephod and all those like him?"

Garren said sadly, "once a man has perished without the King or chooses to follow the Evil One willingly and thus passes the gates of the Infernal Realm, there is no more chance that he may repent of that which he has chosen willingly. So too if one has rebelled against the King or was born into such rebellion and finds Him, thus turning from darkness and one day tastes of the River but then turns aside, he cannot go back. A mortal man may flirt with the idea of serving the King, toss it aside, and take it up again if he so chooses. You shall certainly be grieved by and mourn for those who choose such folly and destruction, but you must not lose hope because of it. It was of their own choosing and the King will not trespass upon that choice, for it was His gift to them that they had such a choice, else we would be naught but mindless slaves rather than children and heirs of our Great Lord."

He rose then and the boy followed suit. Bryant noticed Erian now wore neither bridle nor saddle but to mortal eyes it would appear that he did. He would know Bryant's mind in where they must go and also know himself that which needed to be done. Garren mounted and Erian eyed the boy in amusement, as he seemed nervous to dare such a thing. Erian shook his head in amusement and consternation, "you have done this a thousand times before, why now are you so shy? Forget how I look and remember that I am yet he that has borne you times beyond count. And now you shall not be any burden at all, for your weight is but that of a feather or a breath of air."

Bryant could not help but smile as an eager joy kindled in his eyes, and he leapt easily onto the great back. The stallion was much taller than he remembered and he felt helpless without rein or stirrup, though he had rarely had to use the former. He soon adjusted however and forgot his former need for such things, for now he had no fear of falling. The Pegassi reared their joy to again be abroad, for they were born to run and run they did: swifter than thought. The boy had never felt such joy or exhilaration. He seemed to be sitting still while the world blurred past him. Forests, mountains, swamps, plains, and whole countries passed like leaves in the wind. And when the great creatures stopped they were neither sweaty, blowing hard, nor even weary.

Erian laughed, "it is good to be free once more. I felt a snail, trapped as I was in mortal form."

The world quit spinning in a land far less pleasant than their former habitations. The wind blew hot and dry, and though the sun was a pallid and watery disc in the sky it still scorched like an oven. It seemed that water had never existed in this place; there was no vegetation, only jagged rocks and dust as far as the eye could see. To the south towered peaks of immense height that seemed to take in all light but never gave off heat.

"The Mountains of Night, the Cursed Peaks, and a thousand other fell names they bear but beyond them lies the Infernal Realm. Upon their stark face dwell all manner of loathsome and vile things that delight in evil and cruelty. Some claim the Dark Prince as lord, others care little for such things but are no less deplorable. The sun's light never reaches the far side nor do they themselves cast a shadow, but all that lies within sight of those terrible mountains is waste and sere. It burns by day and freezes by night. No stars shine here, only a wan, hopeless moon. But compared to conditions on the other side of the peaks this is a veritable paradise."

Bryant shuddered to think what might lurk on the other side of the mountains. He felt the heat but it was not a bother to him, though to mortals caught in those environs it would have been oppressive. "Why are we here?" asked the boy.

Garren said, "the minions of the Enemy often patrol along this road and we are here that you might learn their ways."

The boy paled, "is it not a bit presumptuous to engage them in battle when there is not a need?"

Garren said seriously, "perhaps we are not making a difference to innocents in this affair but you have a need to learn how to engage such creatures and doing it here will keep others from being injured by your naiveté in a situation that truly matters."

The boy smiled, "I can learn here without risking others. It is probably a good thing to know what I am doing before I attempt anything actually important."

Garren smiled, "I am glad you take my point. Prepare yourself, for our enemies are at hand."

Six Soldiers came along the road out of the west, man and horse alike resembled their mortal form but were withered and wasted to nothing but skin drawn taught over rotting bone. Their armor was of chainmail and leather whereas the Dreadlords wore platemail from head to toe. Soldiers were not all that smart but they knew enough to attack two strangers upon the road. They drew their swords as their fell mounts increased their pace for the charge. Such wailing and moaning Bryant had never heard and he thought these must be their attempt at yells of rage and war. The Pegassi reared and screamed their own challenge and ran to meet their foes.

Bryant had been trained in the arts of war along with all his royal siblings but he had never faced a man in battle. He felt that had he known nothing of the sword he would still have had the necessary skill. He fought as an old campaigner, well used to the rigors of war; Erian moved with such skill that they might have been a centaur: a creature of one mind rather than mount and rider of two separate minds. Where the Soldiers' blades pierced him they burned as Garren had warned. At first he flinched back in pain but soon overcame the irritation and waded full into the fray. Their blades could do little but pain him, however Bryant's blade reduced them to a pile of ash and charred bone if he dealt a mortal blow. The horrid horses stood and stared vacantly when their riders fell, suddenly becoming gruesome statues.

The Soldiers vanquished, Bryant turned to Garren seeking further direction. "You did well lad," said Garren, "now we will seek out a Dreadlord for you to practice on. Remember, they do not fall so easily and their blades are as deadly to us as ours are to them."

"What of these wretched beasts?" asked the boy.

Garren looked upon the frozen horses and said, "come night they will fall to pieces; once their masters are gone they have no more life in them."

Erian snorted, "I think I am beginning to enjoy this."

Garren laughed, "it was for this that you were made my friend. Come, we have more to teach your friend."

They galloped off into the blistering day and upon halting, found themselves behind a cluster of great boulders looking upon a grim sight. "Behold the gates of the Infernal Realms," said Garren quietly, "they are never guarded, for the Enemy fears no attack and knows all who enter willingly come under his dominion. We and all those who serve the King cannot pass those gates unless we willingly choose such a fate. Living mortals also cannot pass them unwillingly. Once death comes upon them, those who have refused the King have no choice but to enter."

Bryant asked, "what of those taken captive by the Dreadlords and other minions of evil? What would have come of me had the Dreadlord brought me to this place?"

Garren gazed off to one side of the hulking gate and Bryant's eyes followed. Built into the cold flesh of the mountainside was a sort of fortress or prison. Soldiers could be seen upon the walls and at the gates. Garren said quietly, "that is where all such captives go; it is in that cruel place that they endure much torment in hopes that they might refuse the King and turn to the Enemy. Else they meet a slow and terrible death."

Bryant said quietly, "I think I would prefer a slow death to what the Enemy has to offer."

Garren said grimly, "a truer word was never spoken."

The boy shuddered to think what might have come of him in such a place. He turned to Garren and asked, "are the prisoners completely forsaken and alone?"

Garren said, "do you ask why we do not break down the door and set them free?" The boy nodded. Garren said, "we are sent to aid many but terrible things still happen in this world: the result of rebellion against the King. We are not sent to make the world a place where all men are free and safe but to do that which we must to check the Enemy in his plots and see that men have the chance to seek the King. All such suffering and death is needless and would have been avoided had some not chosen to rebel and thus are they sundered from the good with which the King had planned to bless them.

It is a difficult concept for many that a just and loving King could allow such suffering in the world, but it is in such sorrow that men often return to their Maker. He did not intend it to be this way, but so have we chosen and thus must we endure, but that is not to say He cannot use it for the benefit of His people. One day all such pain, grief, and death will forever be overthrown and cast aside and things will be as they were meant to be. But for now and as long as time lasts things are as they are. There are many things you will yearn to do to end suffering or make things right, but there are some things that must be as they must be and it is not for us to interfere. Attend to that which you are assigned, grieve as you must, but do not step outside the bounds set upon us."

"How will I know what is overreaching?" asked the boy.

Garren said, "you will know."

The boy nodded, not understanding but trusting fully in his Lord and his friends. As they watched, the gates opened and a Dreadlord, leading a dozen Soldiers, rode out into the growing shadows of evening, intent on some mischief. Garren said quietly, "we will follow them at a distance and once we are out of sight of the gates we will set upon them. We dare not take them in view of the gates lest reinforcements should be sent forth."

The boy nodded and set himself for battle though they might not engage their foes for some time yet. The fell company rode north at a dizzying speed to all but the Pegassi. Soon they were well beyond sight of the gates and the Messengers fell upon their foes from behind. The Dreadlord turned his mount sharply when he heard the sounds of battle amongst his minions. He drew back from the melee and watched with irritation; this was not something he enjoyed but such bothers were part of the job. The Messengers were forever meddling in the affairs of the Dark Prince and there was little that could be done to end their bother. Only three Soldiers remained and Garren had their attention. He urged the boy to take on the Dreadlord. The boy was terrified after his previous encounter with such a foe but was determined not to disappoint Garren or their Master.

Erian was not cowed in the least, though mortal horses would have been long fled if they did not simply die outright from fear. The Dreadlord was the same the boy had met before and laughed scornfully when he recognized his foe, "will you never quit boy? Just lie down and die and do us all a favor. You were not made for such folly!" He was rather miffed to realize that this was simply a training exercise for the neophyte Messenger; he was certainly a more worthy foe than a mere practice dummy for this pathetic wretch! They met and exchanged furious blows. Bryant felt the cruel sting of the Dreadlord's blade, far fiercer than the pain inflicted by a Soldier's lesser blade. For a few minutes their mounts circled, pushed, and reared, while their riders fought desperately. Finally the Dreadlord's blade pierced Bryant's chest. The pain was excruciating and then the light consumed him and he knew nothing more.

He came to himself slowly and it took him a moment to realize where he was and why. He lay on the bank of the River, the water lapped at his feet as he shakily stood. Erian was there as if patiently waiting and gave him an amused smile though he was greatly relieved to see his friend once more. It had not been a pleasant feeling to suddenly lose the boy whose safety was his responsibility. Garren was not long in coming, after finishing with their remaining enemies. The boy looked up sheepishly.

Garren smiled warmly and said, "this will be the first of many times that you will find yourself thus lad. Do not be discouraged or disheartened for it is part of the endless battle we fight against the Evil One. Pick yourself up and return to the fight. You will defeat him next time or perhaps the time after that."

Bryant smiled his thanks and mounted Erian once more. Garren said, "now with that messy business behind us, I think we should probably send you off to do something useful. You do not yet know everything but you know much and the rest will come with experience. The Road lies before you." Bryant was eager to be off on his own adventures but not yet ready to part from his new friends. Garren smiled, "we shall meet again lad. Do not worry, we have all eternity to spend together should we wish it, but for now we each have our duties to be about. Farewell!" Sebiki made as if to take a step and in the blink of an eye they had vanished beyond the distant horizon.

Bryant asked of Erian, "the Road?"

Erian said patiently, "yes, it is the same path that led us here. Mortals can take it only as far as it will lead them but we may travel hither and thither upon it, for it will take us where we will and sometimes we even have business upon it."

"What have we to do?" asked Bryant, though he thought he knew the answer.

Erian whickered a laugh and said, "do you not know? It is a quest that perhaps you set yourself. You asked Garren about it not long ago."

Bryant smiled, "it is as I thought but I just wanted to be sure. I have much yet to learn."

Erian laughed, "it will not be long before all comes easily my friend."

They rode along for a day or a year or a moment but however long it was they soon arrived in the place desired: in the very spot they themselves had slept that fateful night another weary traveler had now taken shelter. The sun was rising and a pleasant music filled the air but to the ears of Bryant it had a strident tone, as of the gnashing of teeth. The elf maiden sat in her accustomed place but Bryant could see full well the vile hag beneath the fair façade. Only then did she look up and notice Bryant and Erian on the far side of the glade. She shrieked like a fiend afire and woke the slumbering traveler. He scurried out of his blankets, saw the distressed elf maiden and then turned to see an armed man at his back that must be threatening the beauty before him. He reached for his sword but the stranger paid him no heed.

Bryant focused all his attention on the hag, saying in a stern voice, "release those you hold captive and your life will be spared, witch."

She scoffed in a cracking voice, quite unbecoming in such a fair face, "they are mine by right. I caught them, I shall keep them."

Bryant said firmly, "the appointed time of their captivity is ended. Release them freely or you shall die upon my blade and then they shall be loosed regardless. What is your decision?"

She cackled cruelly and said, "why not ask them yourself?"

Suddenly the clearing was filled with over a dozen armed men and horses, all jostling for position. The traveler had had enough of the insanity suddenly loose in the clearing and scurried off down the road. The men had previously been unable to touch mortal flesh; Bryant wondered what effect they could have upon him now.

"Kill him fools!" shouted the witch. They looked in terror at the witch but trembled when they looked upon Bryant and Erian. Those closest to him drew back as if he carried plague. "Kill him or I will destroy you all!" shrieked the witch. They held their place, more terrified of Bryant than of the hag. They moved quickly aside as Erian made to move through them.

Bryant held his sword to the hag's throat and said one last time, "loose them or my blade will."

The hag sighed heavily, said something in a vile language, and suddenly vanished. The men and horses in the clearing were utterly silent in shock and then there was much hugging and rejoicing among them as they realized they were finally free. Some had been so trapped for years. They then turned to their rescuer with one accord. Their former captain rode forth and said to Bryant, "we wish to thank you for our lives. What shall come of us now?"

Bryant smiled and said, "continue upon the Road and follow it to its end if that is yet your wish, but this time be more wary of the traps that might yet await you." The captain smiled, turned to his men, they all nodded their agreement, and they set off with hearts light and joyful for the first time in long remembrance.

Alone once more in the clearing, Erian said, "that went quite well, though I doubt all our adventures shall turn out to be that easy. You seem to be getting the hang of things. It is a pity you did not kill the hag though."

Bryant shrugged, "I had to give her the choice and she chose wisely, at least in this matter. I am sure she will continue to haunt the Road but at least those poor souls are free. She will face justice one day but for now she remains loose upon the world. Actually, I had no idea what I was doing until I did it but it felt natural enough. What now?"

Erian lazily flicked his tail and said, "we must be off to our next adventure of course."

They rode swiftly down the path, so quickly in fact that no one they passed saw them or knew they had been save for perhaps a sudden breath of wind upon their face. The road brought them quickly to the lands Bryant knew well, for they had returned to Ithamar. Once upon a mortal thoroughfare, they assumed a more natural speed and rode along simply as a plainly clad man on a common sort of horse; no one would have noticed them in passing and been able to remark them to anyone if asked.

"I think it a bit odd," said Bryant as they approached the capital city, "that I should be sent home."

Erian snorted in amusement, "there is much odd, at least by your former standard of thinking, in your current occupation. I would get used to it, for I doubt things will ever quite be as you would have formerly expected. I suppose you could always cross the River and then you need not worry about this sort of thing." Bryant gave him a scandalized look for such a suggestion; Erian frisked a bit in amusement. They continued silently on their way.

They passed unremarked through the gates of the city, for the guards cared little for yet another plainly dressed commoner riding into the city. They stopped at an unremarkable inn, neither seemed surprised though it had not been Bryant's first idea upon entering the city. He had thought briefly about riding to the palace to speak with his parents but this seemed the wiser course of action, at least for the moment. Bryant was loath to leave his friend standing about outside doing nothing but Erian gave him such an incredulous look (quite a startling look from an equine visage) that he quickly made his way into the inn and found a place in the common room. He glanced around at the gathered citizenry but there were few within yet, for it was early in the day. Evening would see every chair filled however. He wondered quietly how long it had been since he left home, what they thought had come of him, how the Wanderer had faired in his quest, whether either of the young lordlings that had accompanied Ephod had ever returned, and what they thought of Ephod's disappearance. He wondered what he was here for but also knew all he had to do was wait.

He did not wait long before an old man with a significant limp wandered into the inn, glanced around at the sparse patrons, and traipsed over to plop himself down at Bryant's small table. Bryant did not know the man but felt towards him as he might towards a favorite brother. The old man eyed the youth curiously and after a thorough inspection said, "you are a bit younger than I had expected but then who should expect anything in this line of work? I am called Hayden."

"Who are you?" asked the boy.

"I already told you," said the man. He paused and waited for some reply but the boy was no more forthcoming so the man continued, "you are a stranger here, I suppose?"

The boy smiled wryly, "it has been some time since I was last in Ithamar. What has passed here since the King's exiled son returned and than vanished once more?"

The stranger cocked an eyebrow and said, "you have been gone five years then? Why did you not simply say so?"

The boy laughed, "I have completely lost track of time, or perhaps it has lost track of me?"

The man shook his head, not understanding how five years could simply pass someone by or the last part of that statement or why the boy found it so amusing, but he said, "as you are probably aware, the lad returned from his brief exile with some rather funny ideas, at least as the locals saw things. His father forgave him and then the lad went about town causing quite a scandal with those ideas of his. No one seemed to listen and he was thought an embarrassment and a laughingstock by most. Of course no one takes a local kid seriously when he starts saying something important. His speaking career was cut short when a Dreadlord carried the boy away. Most thought it was all he deserved but the presence of such a thing started them thinking that perhaps there was more to life than what they had previously thought.

Then along came an old man with a limp with a head full of similar ideas and finally people start listening and thinking and considering things they had laughed at only a week ago. The man did ease the hearts of the bereaved parents in that he could honestly say the kid had escaped the Dreadlord and was alive somewhere in the world. Since then we have heard nothing of him. Shortly after the old sage arrived some of the local lords' sons started asking questions about Dreadlords and the terrible things away south. Three of them set off to do something about it.

One of them returned with terrible tales about some perilous journey he had endured and the last he saw of the King's missing son had been right before a griffin devoured him. The other two lordlings did not return with him and were thought dead, until one returned not a week ago. The boy returned but quite changed. Folk shy away from him as they would from an open grave. He radiates evil and fear, as if he bathes in them. He returned to his father, who was a rather important lord of Ithamar, and the poor man and his eldest son died not three days after Ephod returned, thus making the vile boy the new lord in his father's stead. The boy is now putting pressure on the King and I am not sure how long his Majesty can withstand him, for some of the lesser lords are adding their support to that of this vile new lord."

Bryant's eyes were wide, "I did not think to see Ephod again! He is quite human?"

The Wanderer eyed the boy strangely and said, "what else would he be? He is quite human in form but there is some quality about his voice, movements, and mannerisms that seems quite the contrary, though he looks a man."

Bryant's eyes narrowed, "what then has come of him? I saw him ride off willingly with a Dreadlord, intent on gaining whatever power he could."

The Wanderer said, "that might explain everything about him then. He is probably a Spy."

Bryant asked, "a Spy?"

The man gave him a curious look and said, "the Enemy is rumored to have many servants abroad that blend in with mortal men at all levels of society and in all lands, but they are not quite human any longer. They have given themselves fully over to the Enemy, report all they see to him, and also engage in whatever nefarious activities they can for his benefit. Some are said to actually rule in the southern countries. If such should gain the throne of Ithamar it could drastically shift the balance of power in the middle kingdoms. The middle kingdoms have been historically stubborn about accepting anything as truth that deals with the Great King and his Son. They consider the Infernal Realm, the Enemy, and all his minions to be nothing but myth; they think the same of the King and the Brightlands.

Of late, Ithamar has finally shown some promise in actually accepting the truth of the King. If we can gain Ithamar for the King, it may shift the neighboring Kingdoms into a more favorable position to do likewise but if this Spy gains the throne instead, he could gain the Enemy a firm foothold in the middle kingdoms that he has never had. The King of Ithamar has turned a blind eye to those who wish to serve the True King until now, but this vile new lord is urging him to do otherwise. It soon may not be safe to speak of the King in public. That is why I came to find you."

The boy grinned, "it is good to know why I am here."

The man gave him a scandalized look, "you do not know why you are here?"

The boy shrugged, "I do now. What exactly were you looking for?"

The man smiled wryly, "I was not sure myself, I only knew I should come to this inn and seek the help we so desperately need."

Just then another man came into the inn, briefly scanned the patrons, and seated himself at the table next to Hayden. The man welcomed the boy, who froze when he recognized the old man's companion. "Bryant?" gasped the young man, "Where have you been? It seems all we ever hear are rumors of your impending doom or certain death but each time you appear once more to gainsay them."

The old man nodded, "that explains much then. So you are the chronically vanished son of the King then?"

Bryant smiled sheepishly, "that I am. What of you Warde?"

The boy said quietly, "when you returned from exile I was heartened to have my old companion in diversion back, but the boy I knew seemingly perished somewhere in the wilderness and someone quite different had returned in his guise. I listened to the things you said and outwardly called you mad, but in my heart I wondered how anyone could believe anything so passionately that they were willing to suffer such humiliation on its behalf. Then that thing appeared and carried you away and I really began to wonder if there was not more to life and if you might perhaps be right. Thankfully Hayden arrived not long after you vanished and to him I gave an open ear and more importantly an open heart. I am finally convinced of what you both had to say and he has kindly taken me on as his apprentice."

The old man muttered something about needing someone to do his laundry but seemed quite pleased with the boy's speech. "What of you Bryant? One of Ephod's companions returned with the wildest tales, can they be true? Ephod is also returned but not as we once knew him."

Bryant said, "I do not know what the boy has told you but we certainly experienced many strange things upon that Road. He ran off when a griffin threatened to block our path; the creature turned out to be quite harmless and let me pass unhindered after Ephod ran off and abandoned me to the creature's seeming lack of mercy. We reached the end of the Road where we encountered a Dreadlord. A Messenger chased the thing off for a time and confronted Ephod and myself. Ephod wished to join the Messengers but refused to bend knee to the King thus was he denied his goal. The Dreadlord offered him the power he had been refused by the Messenger and they rode off together and I have not seen him since. I was allowed to join the Messengers and since have been off on a few adventures, and now I am here to counteract whatever plot Ephod is attempting."

Warde shook his head in disbelief, "you, a Messenger? The boy who could once drink us all under the table! But your tale is too strange to disbelieve."

Bryant laughed, "it is just as easy to believe you to be an aspiring Wanderer!"

Warde blushed, "what can I say but that the Master has the power to change hearts."

Bryant reached over and clasped his friend's hand, "well said my friend."

Hayden cleared his throat, "now that all these mushy reunions are finished, what are we going to do about our vile lord?"

Bryant sobered, "I doubt it would avail us if I went to speak with him?"

Hayden snorted, "he would have your head on a pike faster than he had his father and brother murdered. I know little of the powers these Spies possess, but I am sure he is a match for any man with spells and vile weapons beyond count at his disposal."

Bryant asked, "do you know anything of the nature of Spies? Are they akin to Dreadlords and Soldiers in any way? Can a mortal blade harm them? Can they die or are they beyond death and can only be temporarily vanquished?"

"Excellent questions," said the old man, "but I have no answers. But I am certain the fiend cannot be reasoned with and that he is extremely dangerous. Your father is in terrible danger as are the other great lords of Ithamar, either of being destroyed if they stand against Ephod or of falling under his sway."

Bryant said, "I will need to learn more of this fiend before I can confront Ephod. I shall go to my father and learn what is passing in Ithamar. You two had best continue teaching the people of Ithamar that which they most need to hear. I thank you for your help." He stood, bowed, and left the inn.

Warde said to his master, "he has certainly grown in his absence."

Hayden smiled, "I think we have found our hope in the current crisis. Come, we had best be about our own business." Warde smiled, helped his aged master to his feet, and they both made for the door. A man sitting quietly beside the fire followed them out into the fading day.

Bryant found Erian waiting patiently and led him to a quiet corner of the stableyard that they might speak privately. He told Erian all that had passed in the inn. The stallion said, "a Spy? The Enemy has many servants in many guises, shapes, and forms. The Dreadlords are the most obvious and the most vile, but they are far from alone. We had best learn more about your late friend's new occupation before you confront him."

Bryant was hoping Erian would have been of more help in the matter but he knew little more than he had just learned from the Wanderer. He mounted and rode towards the castle, wondering how to get themselves admitted without the whole kingdom learning that he had returned. He did not want Ephod to know until the last moment. Approaching the main gates openly would be an excellent way to let everyone know he was home. He thought for a moment and then turned Erian towards a small gate to one side of the castle, used mostly by servants and laborers to provide for the needs of the kitchens and the stables. There was usually only one guard set to watch it and it was usually an older specimen or one that was out of favor with their captain at the moment. Either way it might suit their needs.

Suddenly Erian stopped and turned his great head that he might stare at Bryant with one eye, saying, "why go through the gate? Mortal walls cannot hinder us if we do not wish it."

Bryant said quietly, "perhaps not, but that does not mean it will not cause a panic if someone sees us and that will only make our job more difficult."

"I suppose," said the stallion.

Bryant said, "if this does not work we shall try your idea, but in a little used part of the castle." Erian nodded his approval and they continued on towards the Kitchen Gate.

There was a graying guard seemingly asleep at his post, but Bryant saw his eyes occasionally glint in the torchlight and knew him only to be feigning. Bryant stopped a polite distance from the guard, dismounted, bowed politely, and asked, "I am come to see the King."

The guard eyed the boy for a moment and almost laughed at the youth's audacity but there was something in the boy's face and seriousness that stayed his guffaw. "You look familiar," said the old man, "you know the King?"

The boy said quietly, "I am his missing son gone these five years. I am returned on an important matter but wish my presence not to be known by certain important persons within the court."

The old man nodded sagely, "it is well that you would keep Lord Ephod ignorant of your return. He would not be friendly to such as you. I recognize you now boy. I shall let you pass but get up to no mischief."

The boy smiled, "mischief is the last thing I intend sir."

The guard nodded and let the boy pass. Bryant left Erian to his own devices and went in search of his father. He knew well the little used passages and doors within the keep and was soon deep within the castle seeking the King. This time in the evening the King should have withdrawn to his private rooms unless some court entertainment or pressing matter of state preoccupied him. He found his father's door unguarded, which meant the man was not within. He went in search of the small audience chamber the King used to meet privately with various ambassadors, lords, merchants, and advisors. He found the door guarded and smiled quietly to himself in anticipation. As he watched from a shadowed doorway, Ephod stormed from the room and deeper into the castle. His old friend seemed to walk about with a shadow for a cloak and evil wafting from him like a perfume.

The King did not emerge so he must yet be within, perhaps deep in thought. The guards would certainly not let the boy pass without questions so Bryant ghosted down the hall and entered the unguarded room adjacent to the King's current chamber. He then put his purported ability to the test and banged his nose on the wall. Then he remembered he had to concentrate to accomplish such a feat. He tried once more and this time he succeeded. His father did not notice him enter, for he sat deep in thought, staring blankly at his feet. He looked thrice his age, apparently Ephod was causing grey hairs to flourish upon the king's scalp.

The King suddenly looked up for a moment, jumped to find himself not alone, but upon recognizing his vanished son he seemed near to fainting. He looked for a moment as if he might call the guards but then curiosity overcame his fear and he said in a shaky voice, "Bryant?"

The boy smiled to be recognized, "it is I, Sire."

The man gaped but also smiled to see his son yet alive, "you are not dead? You are not a ghost or a figment of my aging imagination?"

The boy laughed, "no Sire, I am myself and quite alive. I have returned to aid you in your struggles with Ephod."

The King paled at mention of his dread new lord and said, "if you value your life my son, it would be best if you vanished as silently as you came. If you are still of that curious persuasion, I doubly urge you to flee. This is no place for an old man, let alone a boy. Your old friend is no longer himself."

"I know that Sire," said the boy firmly, "but I alone can deal with him. His master is powerful and full of malice yet my Master is stronger still and will not allow such evil to flourish."

The King sighed, "I see you still believe all those fairy stories and they still give you airs of grandeur, but know that this is not something that can be resolved with the sword. The man is altogether evil not even sparing his own father and brother! I fear for my own life if my will does not fail first. He would have had the throne already if the other lords would have fallen in behind to support his grab for power. Each encounter with him wearies me more and I find myself struggling with all my waning strength to avoid doing that which he wishes. Soon I shall be naught but a puppet if something does not change."

Bryant said, "I am not some idealistic boy taken with fancies Sire. I have endured much in the intervening years and have been sent to deal with this tyrant. What can you tell me about any strange abilities or powers he seems to possess?"

The boy's seriousness finally started to convince the king that perhaps his mad son was not so mad as commonly thought. He said, "as I said, he has considerable power to influence the minds of others. It takes all my will to stand against him. He radiates evil and fear enough to cow even the staunchest heart. I do not think he fears either imprisonment or death. In fact I am not sure he fears anything; if he did I would certainly use it against him."

The boy said, "continue to resist him as best you can but I see I must deal with him sooner than late. But do nothing to incur his wrath or rouse his suspicion. He is staying in the castle? What is it he urges you to do?"

The King laughed wanly, "I incur his wrath simply by denying his will. He sometimes stays in the castle but he also goes home or spends an evening at the house of some other lord. He wants more power than I will allow him, he wants to change various of our laws and distort justice, he wishes to overburden the poor with more taxes, and he wants to make it a capital offense for anyone to believe in this King of yours."

Bryant nodded, bowed, and said, "farewell father. I shall deal with this fiend shortly that he trouble you no more. Give mother my regards but keep my presence a secret as long as you can."

His father smiled weakly and said, "you give hope to an old heart my son, but I fear it will all end in futility. Farewell." The King stared as the boy passed once more through the wall; if he had such odd skills, perhaps he could counteract the vile lord.

Bryant made his way back to the courtyard where he had left Erian. He found his friend in the middle of a scandal. A servant had come upon the unattended and unexplained horse and began asking questions but no one seemed to know why he was there. The stable boy certainly did not recognize the beast. Two guards, three servants, and the stable boy stood about the animal not knowing quite what to do. It had to have come from somewhere.

Suddenly Bryant appeared and said, "thank you for watching my horse while I attended to my errand. I must be going now."

"Just who are you?" demanded one of the guards.

The boy smiled and said, "simply a servant on an errand for the King. I have accomplished my task and must now be about other errands."

The guard said, "and who let you in?"

The boy said, "the guard upon the Kitchen Gate knows me."

The guard rapped on the named door and it opened; a hurried conversation followed and the man returned saying, "very well, but next time you had best use the main gate like normal people."

The boy bowed deeply, led Erian from the castle, and the door slammed behind him. He said quietly to the cooperative guard, "I hope I did not cause you too much trouble."

The old guard laughed, "not at all, I have been in the guard so many years that there is little they dare do to me save perhaps make me retire. How is the King?"

The boy shook his head, "highly troubled but I will do what I can. I thank you again for your aid."

He mounted and they vanished into the night. Now what to do about Ephod? As they rode, Erian said, "we should have snuck in. It would have caused less of a ruckus."

Bryant laughed, "I suppose you are right, as usual."

Erian laughed, "of course I am."

Bryant asked, "now if only I knew where Ephod was lurking, perhaps we could follow him and learn more about his new situation?"

The stallion smiled, "I saw him ride out of the main gates not long after you vanished. He was riding at a steady trot and headed west."

Bryant smiled, "you can be right more often if this is the result!"

They turned to follow the fled man. There was little doubt that Ephod had gone home for the night. His estate was not far to the west of the city and covered a significant amount of ground. They ghosted along the road and easily overtook the man who pressed his dark horse hard. He was almost impossible to see, being little more than a darker part of the night, but to the eyes of Bryant and Erian he was a dark blot too black to miss, for no natural night was ever that bleak. Erian's hooves made no noise upon the road as they ran. They stayed far enough behind that he might not turn around suddenly and notice them. The man finally reached his destination and his guards let him pass but his pursuers knew they would not be so easily admitted. They turned down a cart path that led along one side of the great walled house. Erian wanted to come too, but Bryant sensibly suggested that there was little he could do inside the house at the moment and he would simply cause another scandal. Reluctantly he agreed and concealed himself in the woods opposite the path.

Bryant snuck through the wall and quickly found a place to conceal himself from casual sight, where he could view the courtyard where Ephod was just dismounting. Ephod was about to storm into the house when a short man Bryant recognized from the inn stopped him and said something quietly, which made Ephod snarl, but he paid the spy who then scurried off. Ephod then stormed into the house in even more of an ill-temper than that which the King's continued stubbornness inspired. That cursed Wanderer and Warde were conspiring with a person unknown about something. He would get to the bottom of it and make an end of all three! Who would dare oppose him when no mortal could stand against him? He wondered what had come of Bryant, the poor fool had certainly found the less promising path. He silently thanked the strange man for denying him access to the Messengers, for it allowed him to follow a path to even greater power.

Bryant followed the man to his sleeping chambers, which were actually redundant as the Spy had no need of sleep, however he did need somewhere private to think and plot and work. Bryant thought to spy on the Spy from an adjacent room, but he forgot one small detail that made such a task nearly impossible. He appeared to mortals as a plainly clad man in drab clothes but to the undead minions of the Enemy he shone like the new risen sun.

He had entered the antechamber of Ephod's rooms, hoping to find a hiding place, only to inadvertently blind his quarry, who shrieked, "put out that light fool! I will have your head for this." Once Ephod's eyes adjusted to the unwelcome glare he said in astonishment, "Bryant! How did you get in here? What do you want? That is a stupid question, for you certainly want me to quit meddling in your father's affairs, but I am afraid I must disappoint you. I am more powerful than you can even begin to imagine. If you cherish your life, you had best vanish the same way you came, for soon I shall quit being gracious."

Bryant said quietly, "this is your only warning. Leave Ithamar in peace or I will do whatever is necessary to rid it of you."

Ephod laughed maliciously, "fool, I cannot die and neither will I leave simply because you ask nicely, which by the way you have yet to do! But that does not mean I shall not relish killing you. Your Master is powerless against mine, and he will one day suffer the fate that you will this night." Bryant moved towards his sword, but before he could draw it forth a ball of crimson flame shot from Ephod's outstretched hand and washed over him. Bryant felt the heat but nothing worse as he continued his move to free his blade. Ephod was quite aghast, "that should have left nothing but charred bone! No mortal can survive my magic!"

Bryant said patiently, "and who said I was mortal? Now surrender!"

Ephod had his own blade out in answer and they were soon entangled in a deadly dance of flashing steel. Ephod was effective in the defense, but Bryant managed to score his wrist, which yielded only a sharp curse from his opponent. Ephod's blade struck Bryant in several places but burned far less than a Dreadlord's sword, therefore Bryant hoped it had not the power to banish him back to the River.

"I am impressed," sneered Ephod, "you were far the inferior when last we crossed swords. How is it your blade can touch me? No other sword or knife has such power over me!"

Bryant said, "neither is my blade of mortal make."

Their swords flashed again and this time Bryant took Ephod's sword in the chest. The pain was intense but he did not vanish as he had feared. Ephod pulled back in astonishment, "what must I do to be rid of you?"

Bryant raised his own blade to strike once more, but another ball of fire sprang forth from Ephod's hand, this one black as starless night. Neither did it harmlessly wash over him but consumed him utterly; as the blackness and torment of the flames took him, he heard Ephod laughing coldly. Ephod watched the flames quickly engulf the boy who had been his friend, and smiled to know he had the power to vanquish such a foe. He had been warned to be wary of the Messengers but it seemed they were not so dangerous after all. Soon there was nothing left of the boy but memory; he had vanished completely, including his fell blade. Not even a hint of ash remained: a fitting end for a veritable nuisance. Ephod turned his thoughts to more important matters.

Bryant awoke completely submerged in the River. He swam to shore before the current could sweep him away. He scanned his person once out of the water, and was surprised to find himself completely unsinged. He felt eyes upon him and turned to find himself not alone.

Garren stood nearby and said sheepishly, "I forgot to mention Spies. Not quite as vile as the Dreadlords but much more numerous and sneaky. They can wield many vile spells, most cannot touch us but the Black Fire consumes us utterly; it can even touch the Pegassi. Their swords are painful but harmless unless he happens to decapitate you, but yours can send them back to their vile master, who may just be angered enough by their failure to resign them to the Soldiery. How fare you in dealing with your former friend?"

Bryant said, "we were never what one would call close friends and now he is become something altogether evil. I have no qualms in facing him. Is there anything else you forgot to mention that might come in handy?"

Garren laughed, "the Enemy has many servants and weapons, each more strange and vile than the last. Most you will have to discover for yourself."

Bryant asked, "you mentioned something about decapitation being a problem?"

Garren said, "most swords, save those of the Dreadlords and a few other of the Enemy's most favored minions, have no power over us save to inflict a passing bout of pain. But any blade that can touch us can banish us back to the River if it sunders our head from our body."

Bryant snorted, "to think one could speak of such a thing so casually!"

Garren laughed, "it is more an irritation than a real danger."

Bryant then asked, "is there any way to keep others from seeing us when we would rather not be seen?"

Garren smiled, "all you need to do is concentrate, and you will appear to all who can see you as you are, as you wish to be seen."

Bryant sighed, "that would have been helpful to know."

Garren laughed, "you will not now forget it. You had best return to your assigned task."

Erian suddenly appeared, and faster than thought they were bound once more for Ithamar. As they rode, Bryant said quietly, "I am sorry to always be troubling you so."

Erian laughed, "it is the nature of your service and mine, what is to apologize for? You might as well apologize for the color of your eyes."

While Bryant could be banished thus, with Erian's speed, they could return at almost the same moment he disappeared, it often did not happen in that manner. In fact much time could pass between the moment he disappeared and the time of his return. They arrived once more at Ephod's manor, only to find the man himself fled, but a Dreadlord and six soldiers stood in the courtyard, preparing to leave on some errand. Of course it would have to be the same monstrosity that had confronted and humiliated the boy so many times before.

The thing mocked, saying, "your friend is not here and I suspect you must rather follow after him than stay here and deal with me, though you might find my errand just as terrible. He went to deal with your obstinate father. I am off to find your friend the Wanderer."

He laughed cruelly and Bryant wished with all his heart to stay and fight the diabolical creature, but he knew his duty lay with Ephod and thence he must go. Erian knew this as well as his rider and needed no urging to go after the fled Ephod. Erian seemed to know exactly where they would be and when. This time, Bryant had no wish to appear other than they were.

Ephod was riding hard with six Soldiers at his command when the Pegassi appeared before them on the road, rearing with his great wings spread. Ephod's mortal horse went mad but this did not keep him from yelling to the Soldiers behind him, "shoot him you fool!"

Bryant heard a bowstring snap and wondered what could be gained from a single arrow when the answer quite surprised him. He felt a great pain in his side, felt himself falling from Erian's back, he hit the ground hard, and as his blurred vision finally faded to black he watched Erian disappear, consumed by the Black Flame.

Bryant found himself facing Garren once more but it seemed all a dream, for things beyond the edge of sight were vague and fuzzy. But how could one dream if one did not sleep and could not be rendered unconscious? Garren seemed to sense his thoughts and said, "you are unconscious."

Bryant started in surprise, "how? What happened?"

Garren said grimly, "it is perhaps the strangest weapon of the Enemy; it is the Arrow of Discord and it restores mortal life."

Bryant frowned, "why would the Enemy want to restore someone to life..." He suddenly contemplated the consequences of such a weapon. There seemed no way the Enemy could destroy one of the Messengers, they could only be banished for a little while. By restoring mortality, with it came all the vulnerabilities and frailties associated with that condition; one could be tortured, imprisoned, and killed.

Garren let these thoughts settle in the boy's mind and then continued, "you are not truly mortal, you have drunk of the River and that cannot be taken from you, only willingly forsaken by your own choosing. Once death takes you, you will be restored to your former condition."

Bryant asked, "if they have such a weapon why do they not use it to decimate us? They could just keep us captive for the rest of our natural lives and then repeat the process."

Garren smiled, "that would be the ideal but there is ever only one such weapon within the Enemy's possession and while its victim lives it cannot be used again; you must die before the thing can be used again."

Bryant nodded thoughtfully and asked, "and what happens if it is used against our enemies?"

Garren shook his head, "we are not allowed to possess such a weapon but I assume it would do to them as it does to us."

"What am I to do?" asked Bryant.

Garren smiled grimly, "whatever you must to accomplish your mission. You are in an abnormal position but you are still a Messenger and must act accordingly."

Bryant nodded dazedly as suddenly the darkness returned. He awoke and wished that he had not. His side throbbed where the arrow had pierced it, his body ached from the fall, and breathing was an agony, making him wonder if he had punctured a lung. But far worse was the look of agony upon his father's face as the two Soldiers, that had been holding his prone form by the shoulders, dropped him carelessly to the floor. Ephod and two other Soldiers occupied the tiny chamber in which they had found the King, whom they now held captive.

Ephod smiled maliciously at the wounded boy and scoffed, "how the mighty have fallen! You are now as vulnerable as every other man who walks the earth and just as pathetic. And now your precious father is going to demand your head for your crimes against the new order of things, else I shall have his."

Ephod turned his cruel eyes upon the stricken King and demanded, "now your highness, you will do as I say or you will share your son's fate. Your first act at my behest will be to declare all nonsense pertaining to this so-called 'Great King' anathema and punishable by death. Even now the Wanderer and his foul apprentice are safely in our hands. In celebration of this decree, I think all three of these heretics should be executed at dawn before the entire city to illustrate the seriousness of your new law. We will discuss what else needs to be changed after that. Agreed?"

The king looked with grieved eyes upon his son, it was obvious the boy was dying from the arrow in his side and would be dead soon regardless. The King said pathetically, "it shall be as you say it must."

He looked pleadingly at the boy, who said weakly, "do not grieve for me Sire, but do as you must. Trust the True King and things will be accomplished as they must."

Ephod kicked him cruelly in the ribs for his outburst. The king had not previously paid much heed to this King fellow, but perhaps the matter needed further thought if this fell villain was so adamantly against the very idea and his son was willing to die for such a cause; he only wondered if there was hope for one willing to trade the lives of three of the King's servants for his own, one his own son! He wept at his own cowardice but there was little else he could do at the moment. The boy's cough shook his entire body and produced a spattering of blood that stained the carpet. Ephod looked with disgust at the Soldiers, wishing they had more innate sense; killing the boy would not benefit them at all but the idiots had failed to aim for a non-vital area, the boy would die regardless.

A thought occurred to him suddenly and he wondered if it would work. The arrow would be useful once more when the boy died, but if he left it embedded in the fool's flesh would it again render him mortal or would he stay dead?, as the arrow would trap his corpse in mortality while his spirit was sundered from his body thus forcing him to cross the River and leave them alone forever! However, he could not have the boy injured in similar fashion if he should again be rendered mortal lest they be in the exact same quandary. He ordered the Soldiers to hold the boy while he yanked the shaft from where it was embedded deeply in the boy's chest. Bryant screamed as the thing was pulled forth and then again as it was driven deep into his thigh where it would not prove a fatal wound, no matter how Ephod's little experiment turned out.

"Now majesty," said Ephod condescendingly, "rouse your servants and soldiers and let them wake the cityfolk that all might gather and watch the morning's spectacle." They dragged the failing boy to the square in the center of the city and flung him down to await the dawn. One Soldier was posted to guard him, but he was too weak to escape and Ephod wondered if he would even survive until morning.

Bryant lay in an agony of pain, his mind could hardly focus, and each breath was a struggle to survive. He heard the screams and weeping of the townsfolk as they were wakened before dawn and herded towards the square. The grim and shivering crowd gathered in the dim grey light that preceded the dawn. They drew back in terror as the Dreadlord and his Soldiers rode forth with Hayden and Warde both securely bound. They were herded up the steps to the platform where Bryant lay under the watchful eye of the Soldier. Surprise and pity filled their eyes as they looked upon the stricken boy. They said nothing but grim determination filled their eyes. They waited patiently and finally Ephod, the King, and all their retinue arrived with the headsman in tow.

Bryant could hardly think, but he had come to similar conclusions as Ephod, after the Spy had removed the arrow and driven it again into a non-vital area. His thoughts chilled him to the bone but were also a source of hope; he prayed desperately for the strength to act when the chance came. Ephod and the king ascended the platform with the Dreadlord, the executioner, and several of the Soldiers. Ephod announced the new order of things, seconded meekly by the King. The citizenry groaned in dread and terror. The crimes of the condemned were listed and even Bryant's hazy mind thought the list quite impressive. Hayden was then forced forward to the block and the headsman raised his axe. While they were busy with the Wanderer, Bryant took his chance.

As the axe found its mark, Bryant rolled to his good leg, as he stood he grasped the arrow, pulled it free, and lunged towards Ephod. He felt the sword of the Soldier that had been standing over him pierce his chest, but before he fell, he drove the arrow into Ephod's shoulder, as the man yelled at the Soldier, "no you fool! Do not kill him!"

But it was too late, the deed was done. Whether the sword, the exertion, or both together had proved fatal none knew, but the second death took Bryant the arrow regained its potency and rendered Ephod mortal ere he could pull the offending shaft free of his shoulder. Even as the boy fell dead, he felt more than alive once more and his sword was in his hand. The Soldiers fell upon him like a pack of wolves but fell just as easily to his blade. Then the Dreadlord appeared to deal with the annoying child. This time Bryant succeeded in felling the vile minion before finishing off the rest of the Soldiers. The square was in uproar and hope shone bright in the eyes of Warde and the King, though the former's also held tears for his slain master. Finally, all the vile minions of the Enemy were destroyed or rendered helpless. The King's own soldiers had come forward and taken custody of Ephod once they realized he was no longer an undefeatable and deadly menace.

The King shouted joyfully, "forget the order that has just been rendered! May all the people of Ithamar willingly seek after the True King, for it is He that is victorious this day!"

The people cheered and finally turned a willing ear to Warde, who had much work to do as he filled his slain master's place. His heart grieved but was also greatly encouraged by what had come to pass that day. The old man was given a proper burial and many mourned his passing.

The king withdrew to a private place with his son and asked, "what just happened? You were dying and then dead and now alive. Ephod possessed terrible magic and used it on a whim. Many good men died ere he forced his way into my presence this night. Now he is helplessly in the custody of the very soldiers he once slaughtered with impunity. What is going on?"

Bryant quickly tried to explain but only managed to confuse the poor King more. Finally he said, "Ephod has traded his soul to the Dark One for vile powers and could not be killed by mortal means. I was sent to stop him but temporarily rendered mortal by the same arrow that did just that to him when death took me. What will come of him upon death I know not, for that resides in the purview of his dark master. He may simply return to again wreak havoc on Ithamar or perhaps he will be cast into the abyss to trouble the world no longer. I suggest you lock him away securely, at least until enough time passes that he cannot again lay claim to his title and use it as a weapon against you."

The King shook his head, "I would rather watch him die this very day but what you say is wise in its own peculiar way. I shall do as you wish."

Bryant added, "I would place him somewhere safe, secure, and guard him heavily, for the minions of the Dark One will be eager to kill him, for while he lives one of their greatest weapons is useless."

The King nodded, "what of you?"

Bryant smiled sadly but great was the joy in his eyes, "my duty here is nearly finished and whither I go from here know not. We may never meet again this side of the River. Listen to the Wanderer and we shall meet again one day. I will speak with Ephod before I go."

The King said, "I am still confused, but know that I love you dearly and could not be prouder of you. You will be missed." Bryant smiled and went to find the prisoner.

He found the man buried deep in the castle dungeons; the Spy glowered inconsolably at his guards and the dank walls about him. He saw Bryant and sneered, "you cannot do this to me! My master will never stand for it. They will come for me. You will see!"

Bryant said quietly, "they will come for you certainly but only to see that the arrow is once more useful. What your master will think of your failure only he knows. You will be lucky to be reduced to a Soldier. How ever long it lasts, it will still be far too short, for the darkness that awaits you will last for all eternity. This cell is splendid by comparison."

Ephod growled, "be gone fool! You know nothing of my master. Be gone and mock me no longer."

Bryant said quietly, "farewell my friend."

He turned to go and suddenly found himself standing in the town square with Erian before him. He embraced the great neck and said, "I have missed you! I thought you could not be touched by the weapons of the Enemy?"

He snorted, "not by their weapons perhaps but certain of their spells work as well against me as they do against you. That was certainly an unpleasant experience!"

Bryant laughed, climbed aback his friend, and asked, "where are we off to next?"

Erian laughed and said, "only the Master knows." He reared and was off with all speed to their next adventure. Ephod sulked in his cell for a few days but it was not long before Bryant's prediction was fulfilled; the man was slain by some minion of the Enemy that none had seen come or go.

Part III:

Allimer was a Prince of the elves, an heir that would never see the throne for he had a father that would never die. The elves of the Grey Lands did not die of natural causes such as old age or disease, but could die by violence. They would live as long as time itself and then, like all other souls must then face the consequences of their decisions, but for a time that inevitability seemed quite remote. Some had been there at the Beginning when the worlds were forged, man rebelled, and then they themselves had crossed the River and had dwelt apart ever since. They wanted nothing to do with either the King or the Enemy or Men but preferred to live by their own laws and in their own way. The various kinds of Fairyfolk were governed by their own kin and lived by their own laws, but in all matters that involved more than one race, the elves were the race to which the final decision fell. Thus had they lived for centuries and so were they happy to live until the End of Days.

They lived apart and considered themselves wiser than either the Enemy or the King and considered men a lesser race and a nuisance. The servants of the Enemy and the King were ignored as much as possible while men who were foolish enough to enter the Fairy Wood were dealt with cruelly and swiftly. Their kin that yet lived across the River had no contact whatsoever with them and were considered something akin to mankind in their infancy of mind that would allow themselves to live willingly under the dominion of the King. Those few among them that actually wished to seek the King were shunned by all their relations and usually crossed the River in despair, for they no longer found solace among their own kind in the Grey Lands. The Enemy bothered little about them, for they would one day be his without any effort on his own part, save in encouraging them to rebel in the first place. The King sent his servants but they were ignored or killed to no avail.

Occasionally the occupants of the Fairy Wood, especially the restless youngsters or more nefarious elders, would stray from their own realm and go wandering in the lands of men, seeing what mischief they might cause or what adventures they might have. Men feared those woods with good reason, for few who went in came out, and none unchanged by the encounter. Such were the tales of chance encounters with such folk that some thought it all a myth while others feared to go much beyond the borders of their own village. Adventurers and young men often ventured into those woods hoping to find themselves the hero of some tale but more often the only tale told was of a quick and tragic end. There were rumors of gold and beautiful elven maidens lurking aplenty in those woods but few were those brave or mad enough to see if the tales were true.

Such was the world in which Allimer found himself. He had no great future ahead of him and as a son of royalty he had no lack of wealth and respect and influence. He had no challenge or interest or purpose in life. He was bored. Finally the day came when he could stand it no longer and approached his father, saying, "my heart is not content to linger here in luxury and safety or I shall go mad. I wish to go abroad (by which he meant to leave the Fairy Wood and wander about in the lands of men for a time)."

His father said, "as you wish it my son, so shall it be. I look forward to hearing of your adventures. It is always amusing to hear tales of how men react to our intrusions into their lands. Farewell."

The boy bowed and went to prepare for his journey. He and his dearest friend meant to ride forth together and see what the wide world held for them. The other boy was of common birth but that mattered little to the prince, for he cared nothing for such distinctions. They mounted their horses and rode off into the growing day, eager to see what life was like beyond the cloistered forest. Unlike many of their kin, they did not hold men in complete contempt but would rather see these strange creature for themselves and then make up their own minds upon the matter. They had many minor reasons for going, but the main reason that they allowed no one, most of all themselves, to know was that they were not content with what they knew of the history of their people and their deepest held beliefs. They wanted to go out and see if they could discover for themselves if there was a deeper truth in the world or if it was just as everyone assumed it to be. They were many days upon the road before they came out of the territory held by the Fairyfolk into lands more hospitable to men. Each wore a floppy hat that hung down and covered their ears that men not see that they were anything but strangely tall, lithe, and pale folk.

They finally came to a village upon a market day and watched curiously as all the various folk frantically hastened from place to place, laughing, yelling, singing, bargaining, complaining, and all the other frenzied activities found in such a place at such a time. Such a chaotic and hectic ordeal was never seen among the more noble Fairyfolk and would have been sneered upon by more lofty minds, but the two youths found the whole ordeal strangely charming. Evening fell and they found themselves drawn to the inn where the locals had retired after the tumult of the day.

They found a table, procured some of the local ale and provender, and listened in astonishment as a man by the fire told tale after tale to the gathered throng. They were amused to hear supposed tales of their own race and fellow Fairyfolk, but this made them wonder at all the rumors held to be true about men among their own folk. What if it was a mutual misunderstanding? What else had been misconstrued, misunderstood, ignored, or forgotten by the Fairyfolk over time? The storyteller finally grew weary of speaking and withdrew to his room after collecting the coins generously donated by the grateful patrons for his efforts. Another man stood, this one in his middle years, though he seemed far older, for his had not been an easy life.

He began to speak also, but though his was a quieter manner his words were far more fervent. He spoke of the Great King and the Enemy and their unending war for the souls of men and the Last Day and of many other things that deeply troubled the hearts of the two vagabonds. Some of the patrons scarce paid heed while others could not draw themselves from his words. Some cheered, more booed, most just ignored the man. He finished his soliloquy and withdrew to a private corner where a few gathered with many questions. The hour was growing late when the last of his questioners withdrew and only he, the innkeeper, and the two young elves remained in the common room. The innkeeper obliviously went about the last of his evening chores and the two finally approached the one. He eyed them curiously but said nothing.

They studied one another for many minutes before finally Allimer spoke, "are you simply a storyteller, as was the man who preceded you telling myth, history, and legend only to earn your keep, or are you a man of the truth?"

The man smiled good naturedly and said, "I know I speak truly lad but whether you accept what I say as truth is your choice to make. Some see me as much a teller of tales as that other fellow. Are you curious, skeptical, adamantly opposed, or a fervent believer?"

The elf prince for a moment felt insulted to be called 'lad' by a creature only a few decades old when he himself had lived for centuries, but then he remembered the man would not know that so allowed the feeling to pass but not unperceived by the man. Allimer said, "we are seekers after truth my good man. We as yet do not know what to believe. All our lives we have heard one thing defined as truth and tonight we hear something altogether different. How is one to know?"

The man laughed warmly, "an excellent question and all I can say is listen to the evidence, weigh it in your mind, and then decide yourself if it is truth or folly, but ware, for it is the most important decision you shall ever make."

"How come you to believe, nay not only believe but to preach this matter regardless that others might consider you a fool?" asked the prince.

The man said, "I have more regard for what the King shall think of me than what any man can say about me or do to me. I once thought as you, that it was all myth and wishful thinking, but I have come to see differently and know it to be true. I know men who have willingly died for such ideas and a nobler death I know not. I have seen others abandon everything to serve the King and a life of greater purpose one cannot imagine. I have seen great and wonderful things in my life but also tragic and terrible, but even in the darkest night I know that in the end all that is right and good shall triumph and this interminable night is but a passing shade."

The prince and his friend were impressed by the man's passion and Allimer asked, "and what is it to serve this King of yours?"

The man said, "each man's service is different I suppose. Some are Wanderers such as myself, nomads who go from place to place spreading word of what the King has done for us, or perhaps we stay somewhere that is never quite home, for ours is not a mortal country but lies beyond the River. Others stay where they are and live quietly, loving their neighbors and raising their families and serving the Master as they might. Then there are those strange folk who abandon all, including mortal life, to serve their King with all their heart and being. These mysterious men are called the Messengers and ride at the behest of their Lord to defend the innocent against the predations of the vile minions of the Enemy."

Allimer was curious, "they speak little of such emissaries of the King in my lands, for such men are considered beneath our notice but you speak of them highly."

Warde's eyes lost their focus for a moment as his mind wandered to years long gone and said, "many would call them fools but the world would be a dark place indeed if not for their aid to mortal men, for none else can stand against the minions of darkness, yet they hold back the tide that men may live in relative peace and safety, at least from such powers as that. I met one of them once, long ago. In former days he had been something of a friend but then he disappeared, only to reappear in ignominy, whereby he shook the whole city. He vanished once more and we all thought him dead, but when he returned for the final time he saved the kingdom from a terrible plot at great cost to himself. Yes I will speak of them with respect, for I owe him my life and the greatest thanks. One lifetime is enough for me to live, I think he shall serve until the very end of time yet never find rest or a home, though he could certainly cross the River at the time of his choosing."

Allimer was intrigued and said, "I would be honored to meet such a person. How does one arrange such a meeting?"

Warde shook his head, "that I cannot say. They hardly know themselves where their next assignment will take them or when. But I think if you seek them with pure intention perhaps your prayer shall be answered."

The elves retired for the evening and wondered at the strange man's words. As they lay in their blankets under all the stars of heaven, Allimer said to his companion, "what think you of this man and his tales?"

His companion yawned and said, "there is truth in his words, you can feel it. Or at least you can feel that he thinks all the world of what he says. These are words to make a soul quake and yet dare to hope. What of you?"

Allimer smiled vaguely up at the starry host and said, "I think my father would be ashamed of me yet I feel ashamed of the way our folk have behaved since the beginning if all our history be true! We think ourselves the epitome of all created things yet we did not create ourselves. How can we hold our Maker in disdain when we must certainly be less than He? Is this not the same spirit of rebellion that drove the Dark One from the presence of the True King? Where he was cast aside, our people chose to walk away. We are a race of arrogant fools if all this be true. I must learn more, but I think already it has snared my heart and will soon gladly consume my whole being."

His companion said, "your thoughts are an exact echo of my own. Let us learn more and oh, that it could be I that returns to our people and tells them that which they need most to hear." Allimer said nothing but smiled thoughtfully before sweet sleep fell upon him.

Morning came as morning has since that first bright dawn and warmed the face of the sleeping prince. He opened his eyes and greeted the new risen morn with a smile and a hope he had not known before. Finally, he thought he had found a purpose not only for himself but for all creation and all things beyond. Allimer's companion had wandered off some distance by himself and sat beside a little chattering brook, lost in thought. He looked up when his concerned friend wandered over and placed a questioning hand on his shoulder.

He looked into the prince's worried eyes and said, "I have sat up half the night and all the morning and know what I must do but I fear you will think me a fool. I would follow this Wanderer wherever he goes for a time, learn all that he has to teach me, and then I will return to our people and tell them that which they refuse to hear from any other source."

Allimer smiled and said, "I had come to tell you something that I thought you would call foolish but now I see that I am the fool to be so thinking. That which you wish to pursue is no small matter and a thing needful to our people. I wish you well my friend, for all the future hopes of our people certainly rest upon your shoulders. I fear my future lies along another path than yours. I want to find one of these Messengers and learn the truth of their service."

Each looked long into the gaze of the other and what passed between them said more than words ever could. They parted then, each to follow his own path. Feladon sought out and was eagerly welcomed by the Wanderer, though Warde was quite surprised to learn the true nature of his new pupil; he was quite eager to see what might result from such an adventure. Allimer rode off alone to see if he might not find one of these legendary men.

He rode in silence for three days but saw no one. Finally he came to another village, where he reluctantly took a seat in the back of the common room and watched hopefully but his heart had begun to despair of ever learning the truth of that which he had so eagerly set forth to learn. He had been three days alone and he missed Feladon acutely, he missed the familiarity of his own folk, and he was beginning to doubt the seed of hope that had only begun to grow in his heart. He began to feel himself a fool for ever undertaking this adventure, let alone for believing the man and abandoning his reason and his only friend in this strange world he found himself in. If there was some all powerful King, could He not keep such feelings from afflicting the hearts of earnest souls?

"You look troubled," said a plainly dressed man standing next to his table. Allimer started at the voice and glanced around at the empty common room, wondering why the fellow chose to bother him and not find his own seat elsewhere. "May I sit down?" asked the stranger. Allimer nodded vaguely, not really caring what the man did so long as he was left to ponder in peace. He had not expected such a mythic person to jump out of the trees before him but neither had he expected to feel so utterly alone. He sighed and was surprised to find himself eye to eye with the stranger.

"What is it you want?" asked the exasperated elf.

The man smiled in secret amusement and said, "that is an excellent question, but I am afraid that I will not know until you tell me what it is that is troubling you."

The elf stared in surprise, "you want me to reveal my heart to a complete stranger?"

The man laughed, "you certainly need to speak to someone, desperately by the look of you, and I see no close relative or other confidant about thus I must do."

The elf could not help but smile at the man's curious logic. He said, "I suppose you have the right of it. Though you may think me mad, I shall unburden my heart upon you but remember it is a burden you asked to bear." The man nodded encouragingly and the elf began, "I am of royal blood and becoming dissatisfied with life as I knew it, I set out with a friend to seek adventure and knowledge in lands strange to me. Upon an evening we heard a man telling strange tales and our hearts were moved. My friend went with that teller of tales to learn more that he might then carry what he had learned back to our impoverished people. I wished him well and went in search of truth as well, but find myself alone, discouraged, and regretting my rash decision. I begin to wonder why I ever felt such hope and was so eager to abandon all my former wisdom and even my kin."

The man said, "discouragement and disillusionment are bound to follow such hope and eagerness as sure as night follows day. You cannot expect a simple feeling to last forever for they are as unyielding as the tides in their ever changing and shifting patterns. Your hope will be renewed as will the eagerness come again but you must not be dismayed when your hope grows dim or your purpose cold. Cling to what you know to be true and even in the darkest night you will not be led astray; morning shall come again and joy with it."

The prince smiled, saying, "you speak well for a stranger and seem to know well the hearts of men."

Bryant laughed, "even the heart of an elf it seems."

The elf winced, "is it that obvious? Why are you not afraid?"

The man smiled, "most folk would not be looking to see an elf thus your hat will be disguise enough but I assume nothing and therefore cannot be so easily fooled. Why should I fear one who comes in peace?"

The elf sighed, "you are a very strange man."

Bryant nodded as if this were certainly true and the elf laughed to see him take no offense. "What is it you seek?" asked the man.

The elf sighed, "I have trusted you this much, so perhaps I can risk looking even more a fool before you. I seek to learn more of a mysterious folk known as the Messengers. Know you anything of them?"

The man smiled mysteriously and said, "I think I could answer a few questions pertaining to them."

Allimer smiled and said, "that is good, for I was beginning to think them a myth!"

The man laughed, "but they are a myth. At least to most men, for few see them and even fewer know the truth of them. But then elves too are often considered just as mythic by most folk. What would you know of such a legend?"

Allimer said, "what are they? Who are they? How do I find them should I wish to join them?"

Bryant said, "brave questions but I shall answer as I may. The Messengers are those who choose to devote their entire being in service to the King. He sends them where He will, when He will. Their whole purpose becomes to fulfill His wishes in various matters, which usually means confronting all the evil and vile servants of the Enemy in all their myriad forms and schemes. It is no easy life, for they are not spared pain, sorrow, and shame but ever is the joy and hope of the Master within them also. They have tasted of the River and therefore cannot die but not having crossed the River are yet vulnerable to all the griefs of this present age."

He continued, "only those with a fervent desire to serve their King in all things dare such a life but it is one well spent. They come from all lands and all peoples and any with a humble and fervent spirit can seek to ride among them. To join them you must take the Road and come successfully to its end; ware however, for it is not a journey taken lightly for it will try you severely and may even cost you your life. If you decide to take that path you abandon all you once held dear to seek a higher calling; above all you must never leave the Road else you will not find it again. Many tricks and traps abound upon it and many are those who have fallen afoul of them."

Allimer's eyes were wide but he now knew that it was for this he had left his home and all his life behind. He said, "tell me how to find this Road and I shall tread it."

Bryant said quietly, "just go out the door and follow the road you find there and it will lead you true."

Allimer did not understand in the least but was sure that he must accomplish this strange feat. He spent much of the night asking questions of the man regarding the King, and well into the late watches of the night was firmly convinced of the truth. He said, "when shall I begin this journey?"

The man said, "right now." Allimer would have dearly loved a few hours of sleep but he dared not deny the sage that stood plainly clad before him. He thanked the man profusely, found his horse, and was off into the night. Bryant watched him go with a curious smile upon his face and then vanished himself.

Erian stood outside waiting for him and asked, "well?"

Bryant laughed at his old friend's comment and said, "our mission is finished for the night but what shall come of it only the boy knows."

Erian rolled his eyes, "he is centuries older than you."

Bryant nodded, "but he is still a boy by the standards of his people, whereas I am finally considered something of a man by the standards of mine. I think it has been at least thirty years since we set out together upon the Road."

Erian snorted, "considering that time is of no matter to you and that you no longer age, I think your conjecture quite ill founded."

Bryant laughed with his friend but before he could mount, found Garren standing beside him. These sudden appearances and disappearances of friends, the shifting of surroundings, and the erratic movements of time no longer confused or even surprised him; it was simply a normal part of the world in which he lived. They greeted one another warmly, Erian nodded regally to Sebiki, who yawned lazily in return.

Bryant asked with a grin, "now what trouble have you come to embroil me in or rescue me from?"

Garren smiled at his jest but soon sobered as he said, "your adventurer may be in for more than he bargained for. The Enemy is quite determined that none of his race should enter service with the Messengers and is setting his minions upon the Road to ensure that it does not happen. There are worse than Dreadlords upon the Road. You must ride escort without letting him know that you do so. Keep the fell servants of the Enemy from him but leave him in peace to succeed or fail at the tasks set before him. I am off to ward the boy's friend and the Wanderer he has taken up with, for the Enemy is even more opposed to him learning what he must and returning to his benighted people. Farewell." Bryant exchanged a startled look with Erian and took hard to the Road after the elf.

They easily caught the elven lad, who saw them not for the speed of their travel. They cleared many servants of the Enemy from the Road that night, but they would come again and there were certainly others of a more insidious nature they had failed to discover even with the keen sight granted them in such matters. The Road cleared ahead and behind, the ever watchful pair shadowed the boy for several days as he rode and as he slept, to see that no fell thing came upon him not native to the Road itself, for they would not and could not interfere in that testing. He must succeed or fail as he would but they would not let the Enemy aid in the latter. Erian could pass easily through the tangled wood along the Road, for the brush hindered him as little as walls his rider, if he put his mind to it. This offered ample cover that they might watch for ambush or a trap yet did not allow the elf to know of their presence. The boy had faced and overcome several challenges in the ensuing days and now slept soundly while his hidden guardians warded his rest.

A sudden movement or perhaps a shifting shadow or a light where none should have been suddenly alerted Bryant to a new threat upon the boy's safety. Mortal eyes could never have seen such a thing and even his had difficulty in seeing the creatures, though he knew them there. The Grimok was perhaps the most devious and deadly of the servants of the Enemy. Their strange hide reflected all light or perhaps it bent around them, but one way or another they could not be seen, merely sensed by those so able. They were very able assassins and the Enemy used them when all other means failed. Whatever their true form, it was known they carried a deadly venom that killed the victim within seconds; there was no known antidote nor could one be administered in the time before death ensued.

Bryant slid from Erian's back, sword bared. He struck blindly but felt his blade strike flesh. Even the screams of the creatures were silent. First one, then the other thudded heavily to the ground and then even the corpse somehow dissolved or vanished leaving no trace the things had ever been. Allimer shifted uneasily in his sleep but did not waken or even know he had been in terrible danger. A sudden pain flared in Bryant's shoulder, as if he had been clipped by an arrow, a small patch of red upon his tunic betrayed the fact. A sudden weakness overwhelmed him, as if he tried to uphold the whole earth upon his shoulders, but he dutifully scanned the area, looking for the source of the fell shaft. He caught sight of a fleeing form and gave chase but felt as if he were trying to run through thick mud.

A Dreadlord stood upon the Road, as if waiting for his pathetic pursuer to catch up. "So it is again," laughed the Dreadlord, "turn for turn, we are equal." Bryant gave him a dumbfounded look, half out of exhaustion and half from confusion. The Dreadlord scowled, "know you not the face of your foe? It is Ephod you fool! As you did to me I now do to you and so do I abandon you to the mercies of your friend's kin!"

Bryant could hardly comprehend what the fiend was talking about but knew he could not allow the fell minion to linger so close to the boy. With his failing strength, he drove his sword into the Dreadlord's chest and collapsed as darkness took him; only as he fell into darkness did he fully realize what that small spot of blood portended, for the Messengers did not bleed.

Allimer awoke with the sun and the impertinent singing of birds, which would not allow weary pilgrims to sleep any longer. He made a breakfast with what his saddlebags held, refreshed himself from his waterskin, mounted, and took to the Road, but hardly had he left the little clearing where he had sought shelter for the night than his horse nearly stumbled over a prone form lying in the Road. Fearing some trap, but unable to leave a body in the Road, Allimer dismounted to investigate. He gently turned the man over and gasped; it was the stranger from the inn who had set him on this insane journey. He looked the man over but found no injury, save a very shallow graze on his left shoulder. The man's sword lay nearby, as if he had had need of it but had blacked out in mid-strike. A ragged sorrel gelding stood nearby and looked at the elf with dull eyes. Allimer went to his own horse, fetched his waterskin, and splashed a few drops on the man's face. His eyes blinked at the insult and he raised a hand to ward of the offending drops. He sat up slowly, looked about him, and flinched to see Allimer leaning over him. He looked equally surprised to see his sword nearby.

Allimer smiled cheerfully and said, "what happened? I thought I was alone upon this strange path, save for the bizarre folk sent to test me. Are you also a test?"

Bryant rose slowly to his feet and thoroughly inspected himself, finding only the scrape on his shoulder as witness to the events of the previous night. Gingerly he reached for his sword, as if he thought it might vanish or bite, but it was quite firm in his hand and he replaced it in its scabbard. He looked at the horse and Erian winked at him. He smiled quietly in thanks that he was not alone in his encore with mortality.

Bryant then faced the boy and said, "occasionally strangers or old friends meet upon the Road. I happened to be upon it and encountered a fell villain near the place you were sleeping, and was able to destroy him but I fear the encounter was too much for me, for no sooner had I struck than I fell unconscious as you just found me."

Allimer said, "would it please you to travel together for a time? Is such allowed on this odd journey?"

Bryant looked plaintively at Erian, not quite sure if such was allowed but the stallion nodded minutely. Mortal or not, they still had their duty to do in protecting the boy from the fell servants of the Enemy. Bryant said, "most travel alone, but for a time some are allowed company upon the way, but if a parting comes you must not let it slow you or cause you to veer from the Road. I will travel willingly with you if you promise not to hinder your journey for my sake should the time of parting come, no matter if it cost me my life."

Allimer eyed him strangely but nodded, saying, "it will be pleasant to have such a companion though I fear your terms will one day try my heart sorely. I will do as you say. Is this another test to see that my heart is true?"

Bryant said, "I am not sure what part I shall play in your journey but I will do what I can to see that you travel free from the treachery of the Dark One. I cannot help you in the traps laid before you but perhaps I can keep you from unnecessary danger. You must still complete the journey successfully and alone."

The boy shook his head and said, "you are a very strange man indeed, but I welcome your company for as long as I have it. Come, the day wastes."

They both found their respective mounts and were soon on their way. As they traveled, the boy spoke of his life and his people and of many tales of the Fairyfolk. He asked Bryant also of his life and people. Bryant simply said, "I was once the son of a King but fled in dishonor and returned after finding the True King, only to be laughed at by all my folk. I have wandered the world since, doing what I can in service to my Lord and leaving others to tell my confused people of the ways of the King."

Allimer laughed, "to think we are both exiled royalty!"

Bryant smiled sadly, "at least you left willingly. I was driven away for my foolishness and pride."

The conversation was cut short as Allimer drew rein and looked about him in amazement, "such trees as these are certainly found only deep in the Fairywood! I ride unknowingly through my own country yet I have never seen such a Road in such a place before and I know well all the forests of that land."

Bryant said quietly, "the Road lies not in one place but wanders where it will and must, that each heart upon it might be found true or not. No man can map it and its course is never the same but it will ever lead you true."

Allimer shook his head in wonder but they continued on their way in silence, before the prince spoke saying, "this is no kind place to mortal men. You are either a fool or have more courage than sense to press on with me so."

Bryant said quietly, "I will go where I must. I know well the dangers of this place for one such as I. Remember your promise if things go ill. Ware!" Erian reared and screamed a challenge, acting little like the placid gelding he appeared.

A Dreadlord and a dozen Soldiers rode swiftly towards them. The man and the elf both had their swords bared; Bryant wondered if his blade was mortal like himself or still a blade able to destroy the Enemy's servants, but then he remembered his triumph over Ephod the previous evening and smiled in grim anticipation.

In the seconds before battle was met, Bryant yelled, "your blade is of elvish make?" The elf nodded. Bryant continued, "good, then it will be of some effect against these fiends. Block their blows as you may but no wound of yours will subdue such foes unless you sever the head from the body. Nothing else will even slow them."

The boy nodded grimly and set himself for battle. Erian and Bryant followed suit. No mortal horse would stand in the presence of a Dreadlord and his fell minions, but the horses of the elves were not like the foolish horses of men and trusted their masters such that they would not flee even in the presence of such a fiend, even be it Death himself. All Dreadlords looked the same but Bryant somehow knew this one to be Ephod. After his failure as a Spy, he had been assigned another role in the service of his fell master, Bryant shivered to think upon what horrid paths the wretched creature had trod in the intervening years. The thing came for Bryant and left the Soldiers to finish off the elf. Bryant felt the fear and hatred that emanated from his late friend but he would not give in to the quailing of his now mortal flesh.

Ephod mocked, "not afraid I see, but I will not give you death but shall lock you away forever in the darkness, for so it was you left me." Bryant sighed at the creature's drama, saw that the prince would shortly be overwhelmed, and knew he must deal with the Dreadlord quickly. His only concern was that his blade would do nothing against such a foe, but there was no way to tell but to try, at least it had worked the previous evening upon this very villain.

He had no need to spur Erian forward, for the Pegassi knew well his intention and they were nearly atop the Dreadlord when Bryant buried his sword in Ephod's chest. The Dreadlord had been so absorbed in his mocking that he failed to even block the oncoming stroke and was swiftly defeated. Bryant smiled to know he was not completely helpless in a fight. Erian turned, that they might help Allimer, but the boy had found allies of a more curious nature and the ranks of the Soldiers were quickly decimated.

Their last foe finally fell as Allimer put up his blade but not so his allies. He said brightly to his kin, "I thank you for your aid in thwarting these sinister foes but why have you not put away your swords?"

The captain of the small company of elves said, "we cannot abide servants of the Dark One in our own forests, let alone assaulting our beloved prince, thus we came to your aid but neither can we abide mortal men trespassing likewise."

Allimer scowled, "this man rides under my protection and we are on a journey for which my father has given his permission. Hinder us no further!"

The captain sighed, "I am sorry my prince, but I advise you to abandon this folly and return to your father immediately for there are fell things abroad. These are not the first such we have encountered. You may continue on your way in peace but in nowise can we let this man pass. If you wish such a companion you must plead with your father on his behalf."

Allimer's eyes were wide with horror and confusion. He dared not leave Bryant in the hands of his people but neither could he leave the Road. Bryant solved the dilemma for him, but not in a way in which he could ride away without feeling some measure of shame, but so had he promised.

Bryant sheathed his sword, removed his swordbelt, and handed it to Allimer saying, "I give this into your keeping, for I shall have need of it should we meet again, but you must not touch the hilt or remove it from its sheath; touch only the scabbard."

Allimer gasped, "you cannot mean to go with them?"

Bryant shook his head and said, "what choice do they leave us? Ride on for you must. More sorrow will come if you fail than if I allow myself to be captured. Be vigilant for more of the Enemy's minions, remain firm in your purpose, and you will come to your destination. Fear not, for we shall meet again one day if we both remain true."

Allimer took the blade, looked at it sadly, and then looked to its former keeper, saying, "I shall do as you say though it tries my heart sorely."

Bryant smiled sadly, "this shall not be the first nor the last time such a feeling shall rend your heart in two, but it is the price of the service you seek. Farewell!"

Bryant allowed himself to be taken into custody, the captain eyed the prince strangely but made no move towards him, and then the whole company vanished into the Fairywood leaving Allimer to stare at the blade that was perhaps the only memory he would have of his strange friend whose name he did not even know. He secured the blade to his luggage, turned his horse, and rode into the growing evening with a heavy heart.

Bryant's hands were bound and another held Erian's reins, which vexed the Pegassi greatly. They traveled deep into the forest and rode for most of the night. Bryant found himself nodding in the saddle when they finally rode through the gates of a great city and the clatter of hooves on cobblestones fully roused him. He gazed around curiously at the strangeness of the architecture to his human eyes. No one was abroad at this time of night so the journey through the winding streets of the city was swift. The guards upon the castle gates let them pass unhindered. In the courtyard, Bryant was told to slide from his saddle. The moment he complied, Erian reared and screamed, pulling loose his reins and vanishing out the open gate ere they could catch him. They looked at the gate out which the horse had fled, but caring little for the creature they escorted the captive into the palace that he might stand before the king. The king was roused though not happy for the disturbance of his sleep; he was deeply curious as to why a man was traveling with his son.

"Why were you keeping company with my son and where is he bound that he cannot even turn aside to speak with his father?" demanded the king once he was regally clad and seated upon his throne in the great hall.

Bryant's guards forced him to his knees before the king and he said, "Sire, he found me unconscious upon the road this morning and asked if I might join his party. I agreed to accompany him for a time if it did not hinder the errand upon which he rides. I once gave him some advice when he traveled in the lands of men and he knew me for a friend. Where that Road shall take him, none knows until he reaches its end."

The king sighed, "you are a rather dull prisoner. Perhaps some time in the dungeons shall loosen your tongue?" He said something in his own language, which Bryant smiled to know he could still understand, the translation of which was 'give him the usual treatment.' A guard cuffed him across the base of the skull with a gauntleted hand and he fell again into darkness.

Bryant awoke not long after to find himself alone in a dank cell; the guard outside stared in mercilessly but seeing the prisoner awake, wandered out of sight for the time to attend to other tasks. The man looked about the cell, seeking some means of escape and could not believe his eyes to see hope so obvious. Upon a nail high upon one wall within the cell hung a key that looked as if it might open the cell door. What nonsense was this? If it were some trap he had best spring it, for the longer he rotted in this cell the more chance the Enemy had of assailing the prince upon his journey. He took the key and easily opened the door but was soon set upon by several guards lingering just around the corner. They bound his hands cruelly and taking his shoulders, dragged him back before the king.

Again in a forced crouch, Bryant faced the king, who said in amazement, "how is it you come to find the key so quickly?"

Bryant gave him an odd look, "who hangs a key in plain sight within the very cell it opens?"

The king scoffed, "no mortal eye can see that key. Some molder years in that cell before chance brings the key within their grasp and even then some do not believe it, though they can feel its weight in their hands. It is quite an amusing diversion with such prisoners." The king looked more closely at his prisoner and gazed deeply into those unflinching eyes and said, "yours are not the eyes of a mortal man." He drew the gilded dagger from his belt and slashed it across Bryant's cheek, drawing forth a thin line of blood; he laughed, "but your flesh is certainly mortal. I can send you to a swift end or perhaps you are more deserving of a lingering death?"

Bryant did not even blink at such a pronouncement, his only concern was getting back to Allimer and doing his best to keep him out of the Enemy's clutches. The king noticed his lack of care and snarled, "or perhaps I can throw you into the deepest dungeon I possess and leave you to rot for all of your natural life! Who or what are you? What have you to do with my son? What foolish quest has the boy embroiled himself in?"

Bryant said firmly, "whatever your decision, make it quickly whether to kill me or set me free. I am entrusted with protecting your son from the minions of the Enemy who assail the Road upon which he travels. The longer I linger here the less chance he has of completing his task. Such foes will surely kill him or worse, take him to their dark prison at the gates into the Infernal Realm and there he shall know torment indeed! Locking me away will avail you nothing, save perhaps to have some small part in your son's demise, for then I cannot aid him."

The king laughed scornfully, "and why would I seek your aid in this matter?"

Bryant said quietly but with an edge like a knife, "mortal I may be, but I will protect your son with all that is within me, even if it cost me my life. I am a servant of the King and it was He that sent me to protect your son."

The king snarled, "I do not wish my son to be involved with your King."

Bryant said, "the choice is his to make and he is set on this course unless the Enemy has his way. He is determined that the boy not reach the end of the Road upon which he travels. Would you rather have the boy in the service of the True King or rather dead or a prisoner of the Evil One? Holding me only aids the latter."

The king snapped, "we escaped to this place that we might be left in peace by both your King and your Enemy but both seem intent on disturbing our rest."

Bryant said, "the world is the King's and He may do with it and its occupants as He pleases. The Enemy cares little for anyone's laws, even those of the King. The Grey Lands are disputed territory and the war is bound to spill over into all lands no matter how reluctant and all must choose a side."

The king sighed, "I wish no part in this little war of yours. I wish even less to see my son in the hands of the Enemy. But neither can I loose you, for mortal men are not allowed to roam our lands alone. If there is one of my subjects who would agree to accompany you I will allow your release, else you will rot in a cell until I have other need of it and have you executed." He then spoke loudly to the gathered crowd of Fairyfolk that had come to witness the spectacle, "will anyone here risk my wrath should this mortal misbehave, to save his life and see him safely to our borders?"

There was much mumbling and scoffing but no one stood forth until a voice in the back of the crowd said, "I will bear him thus." The king looked up in surprise and there were many murmurs of amazement and awe as all saw who it was that had spoken. Many of that folk remembered the Pegassi from the time before their exodus across the River and had not seen one since; that one stood among them was a miracle indeed.

Erian came forth to claim his errant rider and the king said in astonishment, "you will willingly bear such a pathetic creature and risk my wrath to do so? Know you not that any trouble he causes will be upon your own head?"

Erian snorted, "he will behave himself I think. Once I would have balked at such a burden but now I bear it joyfully."

The king asked, "how is it that one of your noble race is come across the River? Have you indeed seen the folly of your ways and rebelled against the King? We see your kind but seldom and then always in the company of men."

Erian said, "I once rebelled against my King but know now the folly of such thinking. I am again in His service. My people do not cross the River of their own accord. We are either banished or leave willingly to aid the King's Messengers."

The king scoffed, "how is it then you are alone and willing to carry a mere mortal? The Messengers have moved beyond mortality, for my people cannot capture or accost them, thus we leave them in peace that they might return the favor."

Erian snorted, "know you not that you have finally captured one of these legendary creatures? You have commented upon his strangeness yourself."

The king laughed scornfully, "if he is a Messenger then the power of the King is truly waning."

Erian said, "he is indeed of that calling though a fell weapon of the Enemy has rendered him mortal even as he protected your son while he slept. He has tasted of the River and that cannot be taken from him even though he again walks among the living. He has been my faithful friend and companion for many years and I will bear him still though you consider it beneath my dignity."

"Very well," said the king, "I shall forgive you this lecture and grant him to your keeping but if he strays from your sight within our bounds his life is forfeit."

Erian nodded, as did the king, and the guards cut the ropes binding Bryant's hands. He stood and threw his arms around the arching neck of his friend and whispered quietly, "thank you, my friend."

Erian snorted, "we have our duty to be about and I certainly cannot do it alone."

Bryant laughed, "as long as this was done entirely for the purpose at hand then we had best be about it." He swung easily onto the stallion's back, much to the agitation of all those gathered who thought it quite presumptuous and degrading.

The king said, "protect well my son on whatever fell quest he is about." Bryant nodded grimly and Erian fled with all the speed he possessed.

Soon they were upon the Road and seeking once more the wandering boy. Erian said, "I shadowed the boy last night and saw that he was well defended by the roving bands of warriors the elven king has set to watch for the minions of evil. He has encountered many of his people who have begged, bribed, pleaded, sneered, boasted, and otherwise tempted him to abandon his course but he has stayed true. My hope is that we shall arrive before he leaves the relative safety of his homeland. How fare you my dear mortal?"

Bryant laughed, "glad indeed to be free of my captors and to know we have not yet failed in our duty. Besides for the tedious constraints of mortality I feel quite myself." Erian looked at him curiously and Bryant expounded, "I have forgotten what it is to need sleep and nourishment on a regular basis!"

Erian shook his head in amusement, "if that is the worst you suffer then you have nothing to complain about." Bryant laughed at his friend's amusement but sobered as he truly pondered the thought.

It was not long before they came upon the boy who pushed steadily onward. He heard their approach, turned his horse suddenly with sword bared, and nearly dropped it in surprise and relief to see the intruders. He gasped, "how is it you are free of my father?"

Bryant shook his head, "the hospitality of your people is certainly lacking but I pressed upon him the necessity of my quest and he was lenient."

The elf laughed, "a thing seldom done in all the history of our people! It is good to have you back, for I fear I will need your sword before long, as we are leaving the lands held by my people and entering a land strange to me." He proffered Bryant's sword and he gratefully replaced the weapon.

As they rode on, Allimer spoke of the encounters he had had with his people and how they had pleaded with him to stay, how they had scoffed and sneered at him, how a beautiful girl of his acquaintance had promised to marry him if only he would remain, and even some of his brothers had promised to have the king disown him if he did not turn around. He then asked, "how long is this journey?"

Bryant laughed, "as long as it must be."

Allimer said, "why do you only speak in riddles? Why do I feel there is a whole world about me that I cannot sense or see?"

Bryant said quietly, "perhaps there is. In deciding to follow the King you have taken your first steps upon the path whose end is a world more strange and beautiful than any this side of the River can imagine; much happens in the war between the King and His Enemy that we in our fallen state fail to recognize. It is a whole new world my friend, and one more real than this meager dream we call life."

As they rode, Bryant wondered at the difference in the things sent to test the elf and that which he himself had faced so long ago. Then he realized that the elf could probably see the false face of the witch, the goblins, and all the other things that had pretended to be something they were not, such a façade would not fool the elf as it did mortal men, but the ties to his people would be hard to sunder but so far the boy had succeeded. Bryant wondered how Garren was getting on with Warde and the boy's friend.

Suddenly Bryant noticed the land around him and his heart sank, they were nearing the goblin village. He said to his companion, "whatever happens next, you must press on. There are horrors ahead."

Allimer eyed him nervously but pressed his horse into a trot, as he topped the hill he looked with horror upon a teeming swarm of goblins running up the downward side, intent on murder. "Ride!" shouted Bryant as Erian dove into the midst of the horde and lashed out with teeth and hooves while his rider struck with his sword. Allimer wasted no time and laid his heels to the horse's flanks, the beast was only too willing to run. The goblins were surprised by the sudden flight of the one and distracted by the rampage of the other.

Allimer managed to slip through and escape their grasp but Erian and Bryant found themselves greatly outnumbered. Erian had little to fear, but Bryant would face a hideous death at their hands, if captured. Seeing Allimer free, they fought their way out of the horde and gave chase; thankfully the fiends though riled, had no way to catch a fleeing horse. Bryant was breathing hard and swaying in his saddle when he caught up with Allimer, who was delighted to see the crazy man alive. Who willingly risked life and limb for a stranger?

Bryant refused to stop until well clear of the goblins and only then allowed his wounds to be inspected and tended to. Allimer carried some elf balm that took away most of the pain and seemed nearly to heal the wounds. "Thank you," said Bryant quietly.

Allimer laughed, "if you are determined to get yourself killed on my behalf the least I can do is aid in healing you. You look faint. Are you well?"

Bryant said weakly, "I have not eaten since before you found me upon the Road. I suppose I am faint with hunger."

The truth was he had had little chance to eat and he had almost forgotten that in mortal form he yet had need of such. They ate a little and rested before pressing on. It was growing dark but the moon was full, giving ample light and they had no wish to linger when the servants of the Enemy might be near. The sooner they reached the River the better. It was late in the night when they finally made camp. Allimer took the first watch though he knew not that Erian could easily have done that while he slept. Bryant tried to argue but was so worn with recent events that he nearly collapsed in dismounting and Allimer insisted he go straight to bed. Allimer was drifting to sleep at his post when Erian whinnied in alarm. Bryant was on his feet in a moment, sword bared.

A stranger walked into their camp. He glanced at the man, dismissing him immediately, and then eyed the elf with a vicious light in his eyes saying, "well met my fine sir. Why have you taken up with this useless wanderer? The quest you have set yourself is a noble one and perhaps I can be of more use than he?"

Allimer said curiously, "and who might you be sir?"

The man said, "I am one of the King's Messengers, sent to aid those who wander upon this Road and bring them safely to its end, most especially I protect such noble pilgrims from the likes of charlatans and tricksters, as your companion here certainly seems to me."

Allimer eyed him suspiciously, "is this again a trick that I might lose my way and all my hope? This man has been a faithful companion and true friend all the weary way."

The stranger said, "but has he? Has he not spoken in riddles and half truths and has he not acted strangely? Does he not have a clouded past and mysterious future? How is it he so easily escaped your father? How came he to lie fortuitously in the Road for you to find and take pity upon? Why has he not told you all?"

Allimer said, "his answers have contented me and I have sensed no falseness in him. Can you prove yourself to be what you say?"

Bryant watched carefully lest the Spy do something sinister against the boy, but he would not interfere in what seemed another test of the lad's resolve. The Spy said, "pierce me with your blade and see if it kills me, for are not the Messengers blessed with unending life?"

The boy was wide-eyed and looked to Bryant, who said, "do what you feel you must."

The boy did as the Spy asked and was astonished to see him flinch slightly in pain but otherwise he took no harm. Allimer sheathed his blade and said, "all you have proved is that you cannot be killed by common means, which might be a trait of the Messengers but I know it also a trait of the servants of evil. Have you no other proof?"

The man said, "what does your heart tell you? Do you trust me or this hooligan and recluse who has certainly deceived you for reasons of his own?"

Allimer said quietly, "I do not like the feeling of you sir and I think you twist the truth to fit your own purposes. I will continue on with my friend."

The man screeched like some awful bird and said, "you shall continue with me or die!"

Bryant leapt upon the boy and pushed him to the ground as a gout of flame engulfed the place where he had stood. "You dare interfere with me fool?" scowled the enraged Spy, "You shall learn the folly of your ways." He raised his hand to cast another foul spell, but Bryant gave him no chance, running him through with his sword. The man dissolved into a black mist that quickly faded away.

Allimer stood and said, "I thank you for your aid, but the man's words make me wonder the more of you, my curious companion."

Bryant said, "since we are both awake, let us take to the Road again, the sooner to end this journey. I have told you that which I can, more must wait until a later time. If you no longer trust me, by all means send me away and I shall trouble you no longer."

The boy laughed, "you have saved my life times beyond count and I will not treat you so ill just because I am impatient. I am content to learn more when the proper time is come."

They mounted and were soon upon the Road. The final leg of their journey was much as Bryant remembered it: desolate, wearisome, and full of deprivation. The elf had a stronger constitution than his human companion and the way was much longer as a result. Allimer eyed Bryant with worry as their water and food failed, but Bryant refused to slow their pace even though he swayed in his saddle. Allimer's horse was stumbling with weariness and thirst but Erian was little affected. Finally a morning came when Bryant fell from his saddle and could not rise.

Allimer was about to rush to his side when the shriek of a griffin broke the silence. He landed and eyed the two bipeds as if they were mice. He said, "it is time for you to tread this path alone. I will see to your companion."

Allimer said, "I cannot leave him so!"

The griffin shook his great head and said, "think you that I would not have killed you both already had I the will? You have a journey to finish and your friend can go on no longer, neither are you allowed company on the final leg of your journey. Finish that which you have begun or go home!" Allimer nodded, mounted his terrified and weary horse, and continued on his way. The griffin took up the unconscious form and was soon aloft with Erian following protectively after.

The griffin easily followed the course of the Road, overtaking and passing Allimer unseen. The boy had a few last trials to pass before the end of his journey. The griffin and Erian watched closely that no traps of the Enemy lay in wait. The way seemed safe and they alighted beside the River. The griffin said grimly, "life is failing but the River can restore him. He will know what he must accomplish here when he wakens. I shall attend to the boy's path and see that none come upon him unawares. Farewell."

Erian whinnied his thanks, nudged gently at Bryant, but received no response. With no hands to bring water to the man, Erian brought the man to the River. He took the man's collar in his teeth and dragged him the short distance to the water that flowed swift and clear. Erian plunged the man in and suddenly he came awake, spluttering in the cold and wet. He crawled to shore, lay breathing heavily for a moment, and then looked to the amused Erian, though concern was writ deep in his eyes. The Pegassi told what he knew. Bryant sat up slowly and pulled himself to drier ground. He shivered and Erian lay down beside him, draping a great wing over him to shield him from the bitter wind.

"What is it you must do here?" asked the Pegassi.

Bryant said, "one of the Messengers must be here when the boy finishes his journey and that duty has fallen to me."

Erian turned his head and looked at his friend askance, "but you are still mortal!"

Bryant snorted a laugh, "and yet my duty remains. If you weary of me as a burden you can cross the River."

Erian made a strangled sound at the suggestion and said, "what nonsense is this? You may be heavier than normal but I will not so easily abandon you." Bryant smiled his thanks and fell into a deep sleep, warded by his faithful friend.

Morning was come when Erian nudged Bryant awake. He stood weakly and worked the cramps from his limbs. Just then Allimer came riding over the hill and looked with wonder at the great rent that was the Rift; then he looked with even more surprise upon the disheveled man that stood beside it.

He slid from his horse and ran to embrace his chronically vanishing friend saying, "I feared you dead of exertion! What has come to pass? Am I finally come to the end of the journey?" He looked across the Rift at the glorious mountains and rolling hills of the Brightlands and asked, "is that truly the place where the Master dwells? How pleasant the hills to my eyes!"

Bryant said, "you have survived the Road and have come to its ending. The choice is now before you to cross the River and enter those fair lands or to continue on in this weary mortal sphere in service to your King, but in so doing you sever all ties that bind you to the Grey Lands."

Allimer said, "ah to set foot upon that beautiful soil, but I have come for a purpose and that pleasure must wait. But you have yet to tell me your tale."

Bryant smiled weakly and said, "there is not much to tell. The griffin brought me here and the River restored what strength I have. Now what of you?"

The boy practically glowed, "I also would taste of this River but where does it flow?"

Bryant smiled broadly and said, "look again upon the Rift with eyes newly opened." The boy did look and smiled for joy. Bryant said, "now if you are firm in your desire, taste of its water and plunge beneath its flow. But remember that sorrow, pain, and toil will haunt your labors if you choose this path."

The boy nodded firmly and said, "I desire nothing else." He promptly complied with Bryant's words and found life anew. He found himself completely changed but his companion still stood a weary man in worn clothes.

He could now see Erian for what he truly was and a gasp of awe escaped his lips. A similar creature stood on the far side of the River, reared and screamed his joy, and easily leapt the flow to meet his new companion on the far side. The two were lost in greeting for a time while Bryant looked wistfully on. Erian nuzzled him companionably. Once the two had been properly introduced, Allimer happened to glance down at himself and finally noticed that his garb was as changed as he was.

He turned with a puzzled expression to Bryant and asked, "who or what are you?"

Bryant laughed, "by now you have probably guessed that I have some affinity with the Messengers, but what I am sure you can hardly guess. My mind, my sword, and my mount are all as they should be but my body is mortal once more. When death takes me I shall be as you, but until then I am bound by all the constraints of mortality. The Enemy possesses a fell weapon with such strange capabilities." With that he expounded his full tale and answered all the questions yet buzzing in the boy's mind. He also told of many things that would aid him on his quest but there was too much to impart and some of it would have to come by experience.

The boy sat heavily upon the grass, seeming to feel the full weight placed upon his shoulders. Bryant laughed, "come lad, you have too much to learn to sit there and let the world pass you by. Besides, weariness is no longer a physical concern."

Allimer laughed and stood, asking, "what shall we be about now?"

Bryant said, "you need to learn a few things ere I turn you loose, but much of it you have seen already, having encountered Dreadlords, Spies, and Soldiers upon the Road. Listen to your heart and the advice of your companion and you shall do very well. If ever you weary of this life, simply cross the River and find peace but know you cannot cross it again until the Last Day once you do. The Enemy may still try to turn your heart from the King and if he succeeds, you can never go back to Him; you will be forever lost to us. Come, it is time to try your hand at fighting some of our foes."

Bryant's blade was out and he had swung onto Erian's back as he spoke, for a Dreadlord and six Soldiers were upon them. Allimer wasted no time in following Bryant's lead and soon was consumed in a battle with the Soldiers. Bryant tried to fend off the Dreadlord, but it was relentless in its pursuit. It scoffed, "this time you will not succeed. You may have won your foolish elf but he is of little consequence. He may even barter his soul to spare you the torment that awaits whither I shall bear you."

Bryant sighed heavily, "Ephod, what have you against me?"

Ephod laughed horribly, "I have everything against you. The only reason my master spared me the abyss after my last failure was for you! He thought it a great delight to torment you thus, as do I!" Whatever strange power the Dreadlords had to induce unwilling sleep he now laid upon Bryant, who again lapsed into darkness as he had so long ago. Erian screamed but could do little against the fell thing that took a firm hold upon Bryant and swiftly bore him away.

Allimer was just finishing with the last of the Soldiers when he heard Erian's heart-wrenching cry. He too saw what the fiend intended and made to ride after but Erian blocked his way, saying, "this matter is beyond both of us. We must do our duty no matter how it pains us and trust Bryant to the King's mercy. You know already that which you must do and if you refuse or follow another path you will have forsaken your King and all for which you once fought."

Allimer nodded grimly and said, "I will trust our Master and know in the end that all will be set aright. I must return to my father and people and tell that which I have seen."

Erian said, "remember Bryant's words, trust the Spirit within you, trust my kinsman, and you shall not fail. Farewell." Erian took swiftly to the Road and vanished from sight, off on errands known only to himself and the King. Allimer's own mount turned towards the Fairywood and their looming quest.

Bryant awoke with a throbbing head in the absolute dark. He could see nothing, but the cell felt damp, small, and stank of must, mold, and other unnamable thing. He heard a slight shifting to his left and asked, "who is there?"

He heard a weary laugh and a grizzled voice said, "awake are you? It would have been better had you died in your sleep."

"Where am I and who are you?" asked Bryant.

The man said, "I am called Locke, or at least I was in brighter places where people still have names. In here we are less than rats; at least the rats are free. You are in the deepest, darkest dungeon in the great prison on the borders of the Infernal Realm. Congratulations, few are despised enough by our jailers to ever descend so far. What did you do to incur such wrath on their part?"

Bryant said, "a man I once called friend found himself a Dreadlord and felt inclined to take vengeance as he saw it. What of you?"

The man said, "I am nothing half so interesting. I was a Wanderer in my day and I think they simply needed the room up above, for they moved me down here and I think they have forgotten about me."

"What do we face in this place?" asked Bryant.

The man shrugged though none could see, "some are killed outright, others are tortured until they die or turn to the enemy, others are left in some dark corner to rot, which I think shall be our fate. I have been here many days and nothing ever changes except that occasionally they remember we will not long survive without food and water."

Bryant said, "that seems kind of an anticlimactic ending. Am I to rot in this place for a hundred years?"

The Wanderer laughed, "unless they decide to kill you sooner or your health fails you, I suppose that you must."

Bryant laughed grimly, "who would ever think to welcome death?"

The Wanderer smiled, "those who serve the King do, for a brighter country awaits us thence. Only such a promise and the strength the King has leant me keeps me sane in such a place! But then they kill those who go mad, for there is no sense in tormenting one who is beyond reason."

Suddenly pain erupted in their eyes as the door was flung open and light blinded them. Strong arms grabbed Bryant and dragged him out into the painful though dim glare of torches. Ephod stood over him and scorned him, "that is what you have to look forward to for what remains of your natural life, save when they bring you out for a sound beating or some other little amusement. I have left careful orders that you are not to be killed so they will take the utmost care to see you live out your natural life. Your only consolation will be in that I may one day have a better use for the arrow and then I shall have you killed out of necessity. Of course you could bow before my master and spare yourself the agony?"

Bryant glowered, "do what you think you must but let us speak no more of my turning against the King."

Ephod laughed, "a nice sentiment but we shall see how you fare after twenty years of such treatment."

They dragged him away, wounded him in various ways, and then cast him back into the cell, but first they took out the Wanderer and had him put to death for the simple reason that they wanted the fool to have no consolation of a companion in chains. They left him alone in the dark to recover as he would from his wounds but they had overestimated his strength. After his journey, especially the last leg, his strength had waned. The River had restored some of his vigor but the Dreadlord's fell magic had sapped even that. He lay alone in the dark, lost in a delirium of fever.

They threw him food as they might a despised dog and occasionally remembered that he needed water as well, but Bryant was aware of none of these small amenities and was utterly lost to the dark. The Soldiers that tended the prisoner thought little of the untouched water and food save that they did not have to replace it. The Spy that oversaw this forsaken level of the prison noticed this one day and demanded that the prisoner be brought forth; he did not wish to face the Dreadlord's wrath should the fool man die prematurely. The man was lugged out and at first all thought him dead, for so tragic was his state, but a feeble effort at breathing was finally observed. Life hung on but barely, knowing the peculiar state of this particular prisoner the Spy ordered him out of the prison.

If the man should die, the Spy might find himself with a Messenger loose in his prison and that was an infamy he dared not face his master with. Better to face the wrath of the Dreadlord than their vile master. The Soldiers did as they were bidden and dragged the moribund man to the verge of the desolate road that ran through those forsaken lands; there they left him to the whims of the scavengers and the weather, to die as he would. Day was hardly a faint glimmer of pale light in those lands, evening was fast approaching as the Soldiers abandoned the seeming corpse and scuttled back to their posts. A furtive figure watched from the cover of some stark boulders until the fiends were well out of sight and then crept towards the prone form. The figure glanced around nervously, but seeing no one, knelt beside the dying man. She laid a hand to his cheek but it was cold as death. A single tear of pity glimmered in her eyes.

She gently raised his head and placed a small drop of some fragrant liquid upon his parched tongue, which in those wasted lands seemed a whole garden of flowers. His eyes fluttered open and he looked upon the piteous face of an elf maiden on the brink of tears. Suddenly there was the rush of hooves, a startled shriek, and the evil laugh that Bryant knew belonged to none but Ephod. The Dreadlord had been watching the dying man and at the proper moment, had pounced upon the distracted girl, sweeping her into the saddle of his fell beast and riding like the wind to the lands of her father the elf king. Bryant's head fell to the ground as she was borne away, for he had not the strength to hold it aloft; bitter tears stung his eyes to think what plots might now engulf that poor creature.

"Are you just going to lie there?" came a familiar voice. For the first time in what seemed decades, a smile crossed Bryant's face as hope stirred within him. With all his might he strained and finally rolled himself onto his belly. Erian towered over him with concern writ large in his eyes.

Bryant tried to speak and finally a sound came, as if the echo of some weak wind whistling through caverns deep within the earth, "I cannot stand." Erian nodded grimly, lay down beside his prone friend, and patiently waited while the man laboriously pulled himself onto the great back.

He turned gentle eyes upon his rider and said, "can you hang on?"

Bryant tried to laugh, but only provoked a cough, he croaked, "yes."

Erian nodded and set off at the fastest pace that his stricken rider could manage. The elf's liquor had saved him from imminent death but he was yet hardly fit to be considered alive. He prayed desperately that they reach the girl before some ill fate befell her and all her people. They trotted on but Ephod had a great lead, and at this rate would be well finished with his plot ere they arrived. Bryant wondered what he could do about the situation when they reached their destination. He could do little but cling desperately to the back of his friend. Things would be far easier if he had been allowed simply to die but that time had not yet come so he clung on and prayed, for it was all he had strength left to do.

Erian stopped briefly some hours into their flight to allow Bryant to drink from the first stream they had come upon, but both grudged even those few minutes until they were moving once more. Bryant lapsed in and out of a restless sleep. For days they rode on, only stopping occasionally to quench Bryant's thirst but there was nothing to sate his hunger. Gradually a little strength returned and he was able to at least sit upright as he rode rather than cling like a frightened cat to Erian's great back. Only then did he notice that he had no weapons about him, for somewhere his sword had been lost or confiscated. He laughed weakly, this fight was sure to be a short one but they could not abandon the chase for so paltry a reason as that. If they did not go, who would? On they rode until finally the elf country rolled on before them in endless miles of wild forest.

Hardly had they crossed the border when several voices shouted, "halt or die mortals!"

Erian turned his head questioningly and Bryant violently shook his head; they had no time to fiddle with incredulous border guards. Erian increased his pace, hoping to leave the warriors far behind but it was too late. Bowstrings snapped in the morning mist and took Bryant in the chest. Erian turned with a scream to stand over his fallen friend, glaring balefully at their assailants, who crept cautiously towards their wounded foe. Two arrows protruded from his chest and the fall from a height had not aided his already precarious situation; the darkness was immediately upon him. He knew he was dying and yet lay fading in that forest dell but he also knew himself to be standing knee deep in the River, looking across to the Brightlands where peace and rest called to him. He turned to look back to the near shore where grief, sorrow, and pain lingered still. He could go or he could stay. His heart yearned for that radiant country but he could not yet abandon the quest he had begun and for which he had suffered so much.

He withdrew from the River and returned to the mortal shore, immediately a great light engulfed him. He was again lying in the clearing but no more was he upon the point of death. Life or something greater flooded his being once more and he felt his sword in his hand. The three elves gasped as they watched the ragged corpse draw one last shuddering breath and then suddenly it stood, glowing like the sun. They had taken a fright at the Dreadlord crossing their lands with the princess a captive and were determined to let no one else escape them thus, but this aberration was too much and they fled into the woods.

Erian nuzzled his friend warmly and the man threw his arms around the great neck whispering, "thank you."

Erian laughed, "it is good to have you back."

Wasting no time, for now they could move swifter than the seconds and the hours, they were soon off, faster than mortal thought. The Dreadlord had gained days and miles upon them, but now they could easily catch him. Cloaked once more as a plain man and common horse they rode on and heeded none that tried to stop them though arrows, spears, and swords pierced them through. The disappointed warriors followed after as swiftly as they could. They came to the great city of the Fairyfolk to find the gates held against them but it hindered them not. They ran silently through the deserted streets and came to the castle and easily entered the courtyard where stood the king and the Dreadlord with his hostage. All three, along with the gathered Fairyfolk gasped to see who the intruder was.

Ephod growled, "can you never leave well enough alone? Come a step closer and the girl dies! Be gone, this is not your affair."

The king scoffed, "you took my son and now you will destroy my daughter too? You have much nerve to come back to my lands after such betrayal!"

The girl wept, "father condemn him not! It was I that ran away after hearing Allimer's words; I went to find that which he had found and in a sere and desolate land came upon a dying man, upon whom I took pity only to be taken by this fell creature."

The king growled, "but for him my kingdom would yet be at peace, not turned on its head by my fool son and a common dog turned preacher! My folk have never known such confusion in all the days we have dwelt here. I should have killed you when last we met boy, now your fate is sealed. What of my daughter, vile servant of the Enemy?"

The Dreadlord laughed, "I will have her as wife and take your place as king, to rule all your lands and folk. As a wedding gift, you shall give me the head of the Wanderer who causes such discord amongst your people."

The king was aghast, "I will gladly give you the traitor, but I cannot give you my daughter or my throne!"

Ephod laughed cruelly, "then she dies."

The king paled, for he loved his daughter dearly. He looked on the verge of submitting when the girl shrieked, "no father! I would rather die than be bound to such a creature and to see our people thus enslaved!"

The king wept, "but death is not the proper province of our people! You should live on till time's end!"

Her smile was radiant as the new risen sun, "and so I shall and even beyond, but not in these lands of sorrow and woe. I am bound for a brighter shore one day, perhaps today, but do not make such a vow!"

The king was greatly troubled, "you too have been corrupted by this nonsense? What am I to do with you child?"

She said a little sadly, "that which you must, but forsake not the True King else we shall truly be ever sundered!"

Ephod glowered, "such a wench is not worthy of the offer I have offered it."

The girl gasped and then slumped momentarily as the Dreadlord drove his dagger into her heart, but no sooner had her eyes glazed in death than she raised her head and spoke in a voice like one asleep, "father, do as he says and all will be well."

Bryant watched silently, knowing his interference would not improve the situation but seeing the girl slain, he drew his sword and Erian charged the Dreadlord on his fell beast. The king watched in horror as his daughter was thrown to the ground like a lifeless doll as Ephod drew his own sword and turned his mount to meet Erian.

The combatants circled, struck, and blocked until finally Bryant's blade took Ephod in the chest, but before he fell to dust his own blade took Bryant full in the neck. The Dreadlord and his mount fell to dust that blew away on the wind as Bryant vanished in a flash of silvery light. The king and all his court sat aghast in horror and relief. The king stood slowly and shakily, as an aged man, and approached the prone form of his only daughter, at whose side he knelt in grief.

He turned wrathful eyes upon Erian and said, "you have betrayed us all! You were to bear that wretched boy far from here, never to return. My daughter lived until that fiend made to interfere!"

Erian said patiently, "you saw as well as I that the Dreadlord took her life well before that."

The king scoffed, "but she spoke that all would have been well!"

Erian shook his head, "her spirit had fled and nothing but her mortal shell remained and that the Dreadlord used as a puppet! It was not your daughter that spoke thus but her killer. You would have enslaved your people to evil for nothing!"

The king sighed, "at least your vile friend and the Dreadlord destroyed one another."

Erian snorted, "such as they cannot die as mortals do! The Dreadlord's fell master might cast him forever into the abyss and Bryant may choose to cross the River, but until then both shall continue to fight in this ancient war, perhaps until time itself ends. Do not reject the last words of your dear child, for they are the truth and can bring joy from much grief! Do not waste this, perhaps your last chance, that your people might turn to the King ere they rue it for all eternity."

The king gave Erian a dark look and said, "this is not finished between us. Someone must suffer for this day and it looks to be you."

Erian reared and spread his great wings in fury, glowing as if the setting sun stood at his back. He said grimly, "heed well the warning given." He vanished with all the speed of his kind back to the River to collect his ever errant friend.

The guards that had come to capture the Pegassi gaped at one another and the king in astonishment. The king wept bitterly over his daughter and word quickly spread of the strange encounter among all the Fairyfolk. Feledon, who had been for some months abroad among his own folk, wondered at the tale and soon folk were flocking to hear that which he had to say. The king sent men to destroy him, but ever did he manage to avoid capture for the allotted time he was allowed among his people that all might hear. Finally he was taken and cast deep into the dungeons, but on dark nights when the king was alone and brooding, he sometimes had him brought forth and listened quietly to that which the boy had to tell before growing angry and casting him again into darkness. Many were the folk who heard his words ere he was captured and of these many believed, much to the anger of the king and all their kin. They set forth for the River, hoping to find the peace of which Feledon had spoken, for now they were outcasts and exiles among their own people. This great emigration angered the king so much that he finally had the boy executed, which did little to sooth his wrath, upon which he brooded constantly in the darkest watches of the night until his heart was as hard as a diamond but unlike the jewel, it never cast back the light that shone upon it.

Bryant woke on the shore of the River where the water played with the toe of one submerged boot. Erian stood patiently by but did not immediately heed his friend, for his attention was focused on a great throng of the Fairyfolk that emerged from the woods as Bryant stood. They had come seeking the River and the Haven upon the far shore, but saw only far mountains and a fair country across the great Rift. They saw the man and the horse upon its brink and thought them no more than what they could see.

Said the boldest of the company to the stranger, "tell us man, the way to the River if you know it. We are exiles from our own country and flee the wrath of our king and kinsmen. We were told of a fair land that could be our own if only we trust its King. We have abandoned all in that pursuit and have come in sight of our home but can find no way to reach it."

Bryant said, "I thought all your folk could cross the River at the time of their choosing, if only they turned to the King?"

The bold elf nodded, "such was our understanding, at least for those whom death does not court. The lesser kindreds I suppose must pass that door. Must the rest of us wait until time itself fails?"

Bryant said, "perhaps there is a purpose in your exile? You will certainly enter that bright country one day if you remain true but perhaps now is not the time. Much was risked and suffered to bring word to you and such favor would be ill repaid simply by flight from danger into eternal bliss. Take heart and serve your King! The whole world trembles under the threat of despair and darkness but you can bear light into all lands and speak that which you know, and after you will come into your own country as faithful servants rather than desperate refugees. Let others take joy in what you yourselves have discovered."

The fairyfolk suddenly began speaking amongst themselves eagerly and then after a time their leader said, "you speak truly and wisely sir! We shall pass on to others that which has drawn us out of darkness, that others might also live in the light. We cannot return to our own lands but all the lands of men are open to us. We shall do as you say." With that, they turned with one accord and set out upon the Road that suddenly lay before them and which would bear one here and another there until there were such wanderers in all lands speaking to all the children of men with ears to hear.

"Nicely said," said Garren as he joined Bryant upon the shore.

Bryant laughed, "the words were not my own."

Garren laughed, "certainly not, for we are but servants who can only speak and do those things the Master appoints to us."

Bryant asked, "why do I feel as if a great shift is about to take place, as if all we once knew will no longer be as it was?"

Garren said quietly, "because the Last Day is nigh. All will have a little longer to decide what to do with the King; they shall have at least one more chance to hear. The Enemy shall stir and things shall grow dark upon the earth. Then the Son himself will ride forth with all His servants behind Him to give the Enemy his final defeat and put the world aright. Woe then to all who do not revere the King, for they shall be cast aside into the unending dark with the Enemy himself. Come, we have much work to be about before then, for still we must counter the plots of the Enemy." They exchanged a smile and rode off into the growing evening of time.

### Beyond the Mountains:

"Are you sure about this?" gasped Bayard, trying desperately to stay aback the trotting horse; he was not used to riding and the animal had a trot rough enough to unseat an experienced rider.

"Certainly not!" laughed Tyne, having a much easier time astride his well-bred gelding and far more used to riding than his awkward friend.

"Then why are we going?" asked Bayard, coming alongside his amused companion, who could not help but laugh at Bayard's desperate attempt to stay horsed.

Gaining some control over himself, Tyne replied, "would you rather stay home and follow a plow around all your life with all the rewards of your labor going to another man or worse, fall victim to the Blackguard or anyone else who sees fit to plunder or kidnap those too weak to defend themselves?"

Bayard sighed, "I see your point of course, but what are we to find upon the road but perhaps worse than your slavers and the Blackguard? Besides, your father seems to do quite well, at least when it comes to keeping more of the fruits of his labor than the rest of us."

Tyne sighed, "he has always been able to toady up to the Lord and is thus allowed a few privileges."

Bayard laughed, "which is why you are riding a real horse and I am stuck with this ox!"

Tyne could not help but join in his friend's mirth. He did not know what waited upon their road but only that he felt as if he could no longer stay at home. They certainly might meet a tragic end but there was also a chance that they might find a brighter horizon where endless toil and fear were not an assumed part of life. The Lord that oversaw their particular part of the world was by no means the most tyrannical of his class, but he did not leave the peasants much to live on after he had claimed his share.

In this unsettled part of the world no one dared resist the Blackguard, who rode in and took whatever and whomever they pleased. It was also rumored that there were darker and more dangerous creatures abroad in service to the Dark Prince, and none dared speak against him or his minions in the open air for fear that even the birds and the trees might carry the tale to the wrong ears; the results of which were inevitably fatal to the speaker and all his immediate kin. As peasant boys nearing manhood, Bayard and Tyne were expected to continue as their fathers had in tilling the soil and paying tribute to their local lord. Their other option was to become soldiers serving some lord, king, or other power in the wide world. Or they could pack their meager belongings, leave home, and hope to find adventure and riches upon the road while all their nearest relations could only shake their heads in wonder. They had chosen the latter though they knew little of the world, save that it was a dark and dangerous place.

There were many Kingdoms scattered across the vast expanse of the known world but also much wilderness, unclaimed by any sovereign but haunted by those who wished not be found. Though each Kingdom had its own sitting monarch, there was a power that none dared challenge. Far to the south dwelt the Dark Prince in his wasted lands and throughout all the lands of men his servants rode far and wide, doing as they pleased with lesser men and ever on some errand for their dark master. Some said the Dark Prince was not even human, but those that did knew not what else he could be. The reigning kings allowed his servants to do as they pleased and none hindered them, for fear of their dread master's wrath falling upon them.

It was a broad and strange world, peopled by all manner of men and creatures. Some whispered of those that opposed the Dark Prince and his minions, but most thought it hearsay, for who would dare oppose his Dread Majesty, or rather who could oppose him and live to tell the tale? There were the usual wars and tyrannies that one man or country might inflict upon another throughout the world, as is only natural in the lands of men. Rumors abounded of strange and dangerous folk and creatures lurking in the wild places of the world, most of the stories held that they were unfriendly to men and not to be trusted. There were certainly human predators abroad: bandits who preyed upon any foolish enough to wander far from the confines of civilization. All in all, it was a dangerous world with little of hope or peace known to most of its inhabitants. What was the point of living many wondered, if it were only to suffer and then to die? But most feared death more than even the most wretched existence but could not say why. The boys hoped not only to find a brighter future upon the road but also a purpose for living.

The Dark Prince and his minions were a reality known and feared by all, but there were also legends of another sort in the world. It was said that somewhere, beyond the Sea, dwelt the Great King who had once ruled over the Greylands, as the mortal world was called, but over which the Dark Prince now held dominion. Some actually believed the legend that the King would one day return and take back that which was rightfully His. Some even claimed that the King was something much greater than a man and was the only hope for floundering humanity. Of course the Dark Prince and his servants strongly denounced such a view and severely punished any who thought otherwise. According to their opinion, there was no hope for humanity, only the long, weary march into endless night.

Bayard hoped to learn more of these legends upon their road; Tyne only hoped to avoid the notice of the Blackguard and the other dangers of the road. They rode on until the light gradually failed and then found a secluded place to camp not far from the road. The lights of a village twinkled in the distance and the intrepid pair left their well hidden camp to see what wonders it might hold, for neither had ever been farther from home than their own humble village. They quickly found the inn and sat at a table at the far back of the common room to take in the happenings of the evening. Back home, their mothers would never have let them sit in a common room at such an hour, thinking it quite improper; their fathers would expect them to be hard at work if there was any light left and sleeping if there were not.

The dimly lit room was filled mostly with local craftsmen and farmers along with a fair collection of merchants and other travelers. The innkeeper eyed them suspiciously, especially because they had not even bought a drink. Their stomachs were empty but they had not coin enough to spare for such a luxury as a hot meal in such a place. They lingered for another half hour but no one seemed overly interested in talking with a pair of penniless peasant children and nothing at all interesting seemed to be happening this evening. So much for the excitement of the local tavern! They crept back to their little dell, ate from the small store of food their mothers had sent with them, and were soon asleep. Both were eager to talk of their coming adventures but neither had the energy after such an expedition, to which they were so new. Morning came early and wet as it usually does in the spring. They refreshed themselves in a nearby creek, ate a bit, and were soon on their way.

"Where is it we are going?" asked Bayard as they rode along. His muscles ached terribly from yesterday's ride and sleeping rough had not improved matters, but he tried to hide it as best he could. Tyne was nearly as sore but also as reluctant to show his discomfort.

"I am not sure exactly," said Tyne, "though north is probably a good direction, as I have no wish to visit the southlands and get any nearer the Dark Prince." Bayard nodded in agreement. The further south one rode, the more notorious was the country until at last one arrived in the Withered Lands where the Dark Prince ruled and from which no living man had ever been known to return unchanged.

"What do you think about the Mountains of Shadow?" asked Tyne, trying to hide his excitement.

"You are not serious?" gasped Bayard, "They are nearly as notorious as the Blighted Lands! What makes you want to go there?"

Tyne smiled sheepishly, "and who said I had any interest in going thence?" Bayard raised a suspicious eyebrow and Tyne laughed, "all right I admit it, but can you think of a more mysterious place? Besides, it is as far away from the south of the world as one can get without falling into the Sea! I know they say all manner of horrible things lurk in the passes, but they are certainly less dangerous than the servants of the Dark Lord. Some even say there is some great treasure to be found beyond those sinister peaks. Do you have any better ideas?"

Bayard sighed, "perhaps you are right? I supposed we can at least learn more about them as we travel and north is as good a direction as any, at least for now. We can always change our minds. They are certainly as notorious in story as the south of the world, but never are they portrayed as altogether evil as is the realm of the Dark Prince. Besides, if there is some chance at wealth or fame, I am certainly amenable to the risk."

They rode on for several days before they finally found someone with time to talk to two strange boys. They found a grizzled old man making his way steadily along the road, just leaving the village they were about to enter; he seemed rather amused that the wayfarers would stoop to talk to such as he. "Where are you bound lads?" asked the man in a voice rich in warmth and humor.

Bayard slid from his saddle and said, "we are currently riding north and think perhaps to explore deeper the mystery of the Mountains of Shadow. Know you anything of them?"

The man looked them over carefully and said, "I know an old tale or two about those peaks but whatever would make you wish to go thither?"

Tyne said defensively, "they say there is a great treasure upon the far side and that is the reason we are upon this road: to get rich!"

The old man smiled thoughtfully, "well then you will never gain your heart's desire in those wretched mountains. There is a treasure indeed beyond their lofty heads but not for such as we. The further slopes are said ever to be bathed in the light that emanates from the Lands Beyond the Sea where dwells the Great King and all His servants. It is said no mortal eye has ever glimpsed those blessed shores nor can any man cross the peaks and hope to live."

Bayard said in confusion, "how then are we to make our fortune?"

The old man laughed gently, "there are more important things in this world child than power and riches. Seek the King and you will be a far richer man than any king sitting in his halls of cold marble."

"Which King?" asked Tyne, suspiciously.

The old man laughed, "why the Great King, young man. Who else? You do not believe a word I say do you?"

Tyne said skeptically, "I at least had assumed this King of yours to be as much a legend as all the other tales that are common to men. What has this King to do with me even if he does exist? How can an old man ruling beyond a distant sea have anything to do with the Greylands?"

The old man smiled and said, "a hard concept until you consider that the King is no more a man than the Dark Prince."

Bayard said, "what then are they?"

The man continued, "it is said that the Great King was before anything: the world, people, time, everything. Twas He that brought Everything into being. The Dark Prince was once the Great King's greatest servant, until he rebelled against his rightful lord and claimed dominion over these Greylands. It is also whispered that these lands did not always lie under the shadow of sorrow and death but were once perfect and full of joy and peace. But the forefathers of men, at the urging of the Dark Prince, rebelled against the King and cast all the world into shadow and death. We yet linger in the shadows as it were, until the King again returns to claim all that is His by right."

"But why is it his by right?" demanded Tyne.

The old man chuckled, "He made it and all within and beyond that which we call reality."

Bayard gasped, "then why did he not just destroy his enemies and take back that which was his?"

"An excellent question lad," said the old man, "but one to which I can give but poor answer. They say that the Great King wishes that even the most rebellious of His former subjects would repent of their evil and return to their true Master. He could have easily destroyed everything and begun anew, but His patience and love is greater than any mere mortal can comprehend, but His patience is not infinite, for He has promised to return and cast all such rebels forever into the Blighted Lands."

Bayard was quite pale, "rebels? Are we not then all rebels against such a wondrous King?"

The old man smiled sadly, "that we are boy, that we are."

Tyne said stiffly, "then we are all of us doomed if this tale of yours is true?"

"Not quite," said the old man, "there is yet hope. As I said, the King wishes all of His children to come to Him willingly. If we humble ourselves before Him, seek His forgiveness for all the evils we have wrought, and fervently seek His will and live as He would have us, we have nothing to fear."

Tyne sneered, "what if I want nothing to do with this King of yours or remain skeptical as to the verity of his existence?"

The old man said, "then you and all with such hearts will one day find themselves forever lost in the Bleak Lands, either upon death or at the return of the True King."

"I do not understand," said Bayard quietly, "what manner of King is this? How can He love such creatures as men? Are not all such lords tyrants and despots?"

Tyne snorted, "he seems despot enough to me."

The old man smiled, "no mortal mind can fully wrap itself around such an idea even with long study and acquaintance, but you do come to understand more with time and learning. Now what of your endeavor to climb the peaks?"

Tyne laughed, "your myths will not dissuade me old man. I will seek my fortune wherever it pleases me."

Bayard said, "you say the Bright Lands lie beyond the northern sea which is beyond the mountains? I have a great urge to see that bright shore for myself."

The old man said to Bayard, "perhaps with such a sentiment you may find what you seek if you attempt the mountains, but I fear your friend will only find his doom."

Tyne laughed derisively, "and what would you know of the matter old man? Have you ever even seen those mountains?"

The old man smiled, "no, but I have heard enough about them to never take such a journey lightly. Some say a man of true heart may find what he seeks in those passes so riddled with death but that a man of selfish intent shall only find his doom."

"I have heard enough of this old fool's prattling, are you coming Bayard?" sneered Tyne as he turned his horse and rode towards the village.

The old man said to Bayard as he mounted, "I fear greatly for your friend even if you do not attempt the mountains but all is certainly lost if he does with such a heart."

"What am I to do?" asked the concerned Bayard.

The old man winked, "seek the King and He will give you strength and direction." Bayard gave the old man a thankful grin as he rode off after Tyne.

"Complete nonsense!" laughed Tyne as Bayard hurried to catch up, "Do not tell me you believe anything that old coot said?"

Bayard shrugged, "some of his words stirred restless thoughts in my heart and mind. I find the whole idea intriguing! To think that perhaps man is not simply alone and forsaken to the darkness. That there is hope to be found and a purpose to living."

Tyne shook his head in exasperation, "come back to reality Bayard! You sound as crazed as that old man. I still intend to face the mountains despite his warnings, perhaps more so because of them."

Bayard said, "I long for that forbidden shore. I will go with you but I would heed well the old man's warnings were I you. He does not seem a fool or one to spout idle words."

Tyne's only reply was to laugh mockingly at his friend. They passed through the village and continued down the road, lost in the silence of their own wondering thoughts. They did not see the raven that ghosted silently behind them as they rode nor the arrow that felled the dark bird from the sky before it could pass along word of what it had observed to its fell masters.

They found another place to camp and silently prepared for the night. As they sat about their fire, still lost in thought, though Tyne was partly silent out of his irritation with Bayard for believing the old man's nonsense, two strangers entered the light of the fire. The boys each reached for the daggers they carried but soon realized a knife would not avail them against two men armed with swords. However, the weapons remained safely in their sheaths and the men politely asked if they could join the boys.

Bayard nodded eagerly, seeing something he liked or trusted in the face or manner of the two men. Tyne shrugged and figured the men would do as they pleased regardless. Said the first, "it is not often we see two boys wandering in the wide world alone and unarmed. From whence do you come and whither are you bound?"

Bayard said, "we come from a tiny village nearly a week's ride to the south and our current goal is the Northern Mountains. However, we know little of the wide world and would be most grateful for any advice."

"What is it you seek?" asked the second.

Tyne said, "who is it that wants to know?"

The first smiled, "it is wise to be wary in these dark days and drear lands. Fear not, we wish you no harm and hope only to aid you on your quest, whatever it be."

Bayard said, "I am not sure what it is I seek. I once thought it was renown or wealth or power but now all seems but dross in my eyes."

Tyne said, "my foolish friend has lost his vision but I still seek that which he has forsaken."

The first said, "those mountains are not to be traveled lightly. Few that cross into them ever come out alive, for all manner of strange and wild folk and even stranger beasts inhabit those peaks. But it is said that those who are willing to risk life and limb to find what lies beyond the mountains may truly find what they seek even if they succumb to the perils of the mountains. But it is also said that those who come looking for temporal gain shall find only death, even if they survive."

Tyne laughed, "you sound like that crazed old man. What treasure is hidden in those peaks that must be so well guarded even in myth and legend to keep men from coming to steal it away in droves? And what is it that lies beyond the mountains?"

The second said, "you should listen more closely to your 'crazed old man,' for he speaks wisdom. A great and wondrous Sea lies beyond the mountains and beyond that are the Bright Lands, which no mortal eye has ever glimpsed. If you wish to serve the King with all your heart and venture into the heights, you may find your heart's desire but those seeking only selfish gain find death."

Tyne growled, "I suggest that both of you go find your own place to sleep. You have wearied me as much as that old man with your mythic blathering."

The pair exchanged an unreadable look and the first man said, "as you wish it, though it would be wise to heed our words. Twice this day you have been warned."

They vanished again into the night as suddenly as they had come, leaving Tyne to laugh himself to sleep and Bayard to wonder what it was he was actually seeking. The following morning, Tyne was in a delightful mood though it would sour slightly each time he thought about the strangers of the previous day and their inane warnings. He confronted Bayard, "are you still convinced these fools speak truly? I think they only pass along hearsay and are nothing more than gossip mongers. I will still let you accompany me into the mountains but please spare me the tedium of such talk as we had to endure yesterday. If you want to believe that drivel, that is your choice, but I do not wish to share in your delight."

Bayard smiled sadly and said, "as you wish it. How long do you think until we reach the mountains?"

Tyne shrugged, "I have no idea. I hope before our food runs out."

They saddled their horses and were soon on their way. They spoke no more of the strange warnings of the previous day and again fell into the easy friendship they had enjoyed since childhood. As they traveled north, the horizon was soon dominated by what must be those distant peaks. First they were little more than a dark line in the distance but with each passing mile they grew steadily larger until finally they stood among the foothills and the peaks dominated the sky. The intrepid pair had had no further incidents or adventures along the way and was quite eager to begin the ascent, though their food was nearly spent and the dire warnings were not completely forgotten.

A little path wound deeper into the hills and near a slanting signpost, stood a man with stooping shoulders and a voluminous beard. He greeted the travelers warmly and asked, "do you dare the mountains, my lads? I must warn you that it is certain death to go much beyond this point. If you do not fall afoul of the elves and wild beasts, there are stranger and more deadly evils lurking in the heights. It is said that even if one survives the climb to the peak, none can hope to live to see the other side, for even the air itself turns against mortal men at such a height."

Tyne laughed, "you sound as farcical as every other man who has said as much. What is so important that men would be willing to die in the attempt to claim it and that such legends have grown up around it?"

The man said, "why the very meaning and purpose of life itself! The answers to all the questions of the universe. All hope, all beauty, all peace, all joy! But such is not to be revealed to mortal men. Those that venture forth trusting in the King have nothing to fear though death take them. All others shall forever be lost."

"Why would that matter in the least?" asked the mystified Tyne.

The little man smirked, "for when one courts death it is good to know where one shall reside thereafter."

Tyne snorted derisively but said nothing in reply. He turned to Bayard, "well?"

Bayard smiled, "I am quite eager to try this path but you might wish to reconsider, as not just one but four have now warned us of what lies ahead."

Tyne sighed, "I am no coward. Let us away while the daylight lasts and may we swiftly forget the ramblings of this maniac and all his ilk! I will see what legends truly lurk in those heights and no midget prognosticating doom shall hinder me."

Bayard exchanged a concerned look with the friendly man, who shook his head sadly. Without another word they took to their saddles and resumed their northward journey. The day soon failed as they found a place to camp not far from the road. They debated about a fire as it might draw unwanted attention to themselves from the fairyfolk that were rumored to live in these hills but it also might keep the lesser beasts at bay. Finally they built the fire, thinking it far better to face a sapient foe than to fall victim to a mindless beast alone in the dark.

They sat quietly around the fire until Tyne mused, "what do you think really lies beyond? What have they gone to so much trouble to conceal?"

Bayard smiled, "can you not take these men at their word? I know to the very core of my being that they speak the truth. If they are right, you face not only mortal death but eternal darkness as well."

"Me?" scoffed Tyne, "why must I face such things alone? Are you going to abandon me at the end then or have you given in to the nonsense spouted by lesser men?"

Bayard said, "I shall remain true no matter what befalls us but yes, I believe these men and make the ascent in hopes of serving the King."

Tyne laughed coldly, "certainly a strange way of finding servants I think. At least I shall die a free man."

Bayard said quietly, "none of us are free men. We live either to serve the King or the Dark Lord, only in service to the King is true freedom."

Tyne snorted, "you sound like that blighted old man! Where did this outburst come from?"

Bayard smiled sheepishly, "I do not know but I know it true."

Tyne could only shake his head in wonder and roll over to find what sleep he could. Bayard lay awake long into the night, pleading with the darkness that perhaps his friend's heart might also be touched before it was too late. He knew in his heart that neither of them would remain unchanged from this journey.

Morning came and they moved higher into the mountains; the forest grew close and thick about them and the path became narrower, steeper, and harder to find. Finally they were forced to leave the horses and continue the ascent afoot. The sun was hot upon their backs and the insects buzzed incessantly in their ears in their insatiable thirst for blood. They emerged from the woods and stood on a rocky outcropping on the edge of a cliff that dropped sharply two hundred feet to a narrow valley below. The trees marched on endlessly up the slope until they vanished into a low cloud that had engulfed the entire top of the mountain. They sat down on two great stones that jutted from the earth to rest, though the sun was fierce and the insects fiercer.

Suddenly they stood, hearing movement among the trees and the slight crunch of rock beneath booted feet. The two boys exchanged a frightened look and reached for their knives, knowing there was little they could do against anyone or anything that might wish them harm. The noise grew louder among the trees they had just left as Bayard backed towards the edge of the cliff, hoping that with it at his back at least attack could not come from behind. He need not have worried about attack from behind, for there was danger enough before him. A bowstring snapped and the arrow took Bayard in the chest; his eyes widened in pain and surprise for a moment as he vanished over the precipice.

Tyne ran to the edge to see what had come of his friend. He lay unmoving at the bottom of the gorge with his neck and body bent at angles no living man could endure. He stood quickly, knowing there was nothing to be done for Bayard and faced again their hidden foes, but suddenly a great shadow blocked out the sun as a great shriek filled his ears. There came terrified shouting in an unknown language and the sound of fleeing feet from the direction of the trees. Tyne wondered what this new horror could be that would frighten away the unseen archers.

A great bat winged reptile alighted in the rocky clearing but it did not immediately lunge at Tyne with its horrible teeth as he thought it would. It eyed him hungrily but then lost interest and began to preen itself as if it were some monstrous bird. A creature, for creature was the best name Tyne could apply to such an apparition, slid from the monster's back. It stood like a man but seemed half again as tall as the tallest of our race and equally as broad. It was clad all in black armor with a terrifying array of weapons arranged about itself. Its eyes gleamed like red coals deep within the shadowy depths of its helm. Where clothing or skin should have peeked through there was only darkness deeper than the starless night.

Tyne was frozen in terror by the thing. Then the apparition spoke, "what is it you seek, fool? Only death awaits you here, as your friend has demonstrated. Would you end as he? Carrion for the birds? Or would you know what it is to truly live, to have power beyond mortal dreaming?"

Tyne stuttered, "anything is better than death! What is it you can offer?"

The thing laughed but there was nothing pleasant in the sound, "I offer nothing fool! But perhaps my master shall find you worth salvaging, else I can leave you here for the vultures."

Tyne looked again upon the shattered remains of Bayard and then looked back at the apparition and its winged mount. He sighed, "very well, I shall see what this master of yours has for me. I am dead regardless, so what choice have I?"

The thing laughed again, "you do not. Come."

The thing literally tossed the boy into the saddle, then climbed up behind him with a strength and speed that defied mortality. The reptile screeched and was soon in the air, winging its way quickly south. Tyne was terrified by the apparitions beneath and behind him. He felt some sadness at the loss of his friend but far more relief in having escaped such a fate himself. The boy was a fool! This was the fate his faith had earned him. Tyne shivered, wondering what his own future held. The monstrosity laughed coldly behind him as if it knew his thoughts.

Bayard felt the pain of the arrow in his chest, breathing became an agony, and then he felt himself fall. A sharp pain to his head had sent him reeling into darkness and then into a veiled half light, as if he lay in the sun with his eyes shut. The pain was gone and so was all the horror and fear of what had just come to pass. All he felt was a wonderful sort of peace and a warm wetness engulfing one foot. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself lying on a beach with one foot submerged in a seemingly endless sea that was clear as glass but whose hue was ten thousand different shades of blue and green and purple. Light played in the gentle ripples upon its surface but other lights like stars or fireflies lost in the deep flitted and danced in its depths. Bayard felt as if he might look at the water forever and be content to lose himself in such beauty but this was not the only marvel before him.

The light about him was that of a morning in the spring when all is alive and aflutter with life and birdsong but there was no sun to cast such a radiance. It emanated from the north, across the vast sea, and he felt his heart yearning to go thence. He then glanced about himself and found an endless beach of soft white sand with nothing upon it but a small boat lying where the water lapped at the shore. He wondered at this for a moment then his gaze fell upon the mountains that bordered the beach, whose lofty heads were lost in the clouds or perhaps they had no top. The living rock was alive in every color of grey, blue, and black and streaked with veins of silver. Theirs was not the dull and drab hue of mortal stone but each pebble was more stunning than the most precious gem among living men. Upon their lower slopes Bayard could see vast forests and deep, green valleys, and here and there, the flash and play of light upon distant water. If one has seen a jungle on the slopes of a tropical mountain, this forest made its mortal counterpart look an unwatered desert wasteland.

He looked again to the boat and then towards the source of all the light and peace and joy in this strange new world. His entire being called him to climb into the tiny vessel and cross that vibrant sea, but a yet deeper part turned his eyes again to those mountains and the mortal world that must certainly lie beyond. He looked upon those cliffs with longing, wishing there was some small part he could yet play in the affairs of mortal men; that he somehow might be allowed to tell others what he himself had heard and to become a shield between the helpless and the darkness that yearned above all things to destroy them.

"You want to go back?" came a shrill voice behind him.

Bayard's eyes quickly sought out the source and found a gull perched on the bow of the boat. He was not surprised to find a talking bird in such a place but was quite astonished to find himself on his knees in awe and fear before such a lowly seeming thing. The gull seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing as it said, "you certainly could go back and render aid to yet living men but you cannot again live among them. But would you want to go back? What has anyone ever done for you? Why would you want to linger on in such a place of grief and sorrow when once you have been beyond all of that?"

Bayard could not meet the eyes of the bird but stared at the sand, grinning sheepishly, "I want the whole world to know what it is I have found! I want to do something worthwhile in service to the King, for my life was short and lived quite selfishly in ignorance of Himself. Why should I despise that which I have known all my life simply because I have glimpsed a brighter morning?"

"Well spoken," squawked the gull, "as long as you have fully thought it out you may do as you wish, but know that you are not immune to sorrow, grief, humiliation, or pain though true death cannot take you twice. Neither can you settle down among them or go where you wish. It shall be at My bidding and direction that you serve and Mine alone." Bayard did not need to ask Who this bird was, though he was a bit taken aback at His current appearance. The bird laughed in its own shrill way and said, "you cannot imagine the Creator of the universe in the guise of a seagull? It is quite ironic I suppose, but for the moment it is sufficient for both of us. Now are you sure?"

The boy finally felt an irresistible urge to lift his eyes and meet those of the gull. Somehow those beady eyes, that were so cruel in mortal gulls, held immense wisdom and power, but also unfathomable love for the wretched boy upon the beach. "There is one last thing," said the gull quite seriously.

At that moment the boy lost all conscious knowledge of himself as every selfish act, small sin, and intentional evil that he had ever committed played through his mind. It seemed an eternity of pain and sorrow and grief and humiliation until the boy came to himself and found himself lying prone on the beach, weeping as one bereft of his soul. A small wave suddenly washed over the boy and when it had retreated safely into the sea, he found himself eye to eye with that strange bird.

He cocked his head and said gently, "it is gone, all of it! Somewhere, perhaps in the deepest depths of the sea it yet dwells, but never more to be remembered by either of us. You have committed it to Me and I have removed it far from you." The boy nodded and smiled a small, sad smile. The bird stared at him blankly until finally joy unthinkable stirred in his heart and blossomed upon his face. The bird smiled deeply and said, "then I commit you to others that they might set you upon your quest." Then He was gone and the boy was alone on the beach.

He sat up and made to brush the sand from his chest but froze in astonishment. Gone was his ragged and travel-stained peasant garb and in its place he was clad all in white garments and silver armor. He laughed, for a sword rested firmly at his side, though he had never held such a weapon in his life he felt he knew full well the use of it. He glanced again at the rocky heights but knew to climb them was impossible. He looked first west and then east but white sand and rocky height and sparkling water ran for endless miles in either direction; he knew if he walked forever he would never come to their ending. But now what? He felt an urge to look again to the west, and was not at all surprised to see a man mounted upon a great winged horse standing where only a moment before there had been nothing but empty, glorious beach. The man slid from the great horse's back as Bayard rushed to meet him. They exchanged warm greetings, as if they were brothers or best friends long sundered through much sorrow and reunited with joy in the morning.

It was one of the men who had sat beside their fire what seemed a thousand years ago or perhaps something that happened in a dream. He smiled as recognition dawned in the boy's eyes and then said, "I see you have made it."

Bayard nodded, "I am still not sure what I have volunteered for but it seems far more wonderful than anything I could ever have imagined."

The man grinned, "you have not seen anything yet! Come, we had best be on our way for there are things you must accomplish in the lands of mortal men."

The man climbed back into his saddle and seemed to be waiting upon the boy to follow. The horse eyed the boy skeptically and said, "this is highly unusual, never to my knowledge has any Pegassi ever borne two riders of your sort. Where is the boy's mount?"

The man said quietly, "he refused his calling and for now we must offer the boy our aid else he must walk."

The horse made a disquiet sound deep in his throat and said, "this is quite unexpected and worse than tragic! To think that even the Pegassi might rebel against the King, but I suppose we have as much choice in the matter as all other thinking creatures. Come boy, it is time to ride."

The boy looked a tad nervous, not quite understanding the conversation that passed betwixt the two but easily found his way into the saddle behind the man. The Pegassi turned slightly and with a great sweep of his wings, all the world whirled around them and they found themselves standing in a little grove of trees not far off the road with an inn a little way down the road. Gone were the splendid clothes and the great horse and instead there stood two plainly clad men and as common a horse as one could find anywhere in the world.

"Now," said Ryan, "I will tell you a little about your new occupation before I set you upon your first quest, but much will come with experience or you will have the knowledge when you need it. We have passed beyond mortality but have not yet crossed over the Sea. If ever you grow weary, simply return to the beach and cross the Sea and enter the Brightlands, but you may never again return to the mortal world until the King Himself comes for the final battle against the Evil One.

We cannot again taste of natural death but we can feel pain and certain foes, spells, and weapons have the ability to cast us back to the beach, from thence we must again set out. You must always try but you may not always succeed. Sometimes our success depends upon the choices of mortal men and they must make their own decisions, we cannot force them and thus we might fail because they choose poorly. Know that our Master has already conquered death and evil but yet a little while it lingers still in this mortal sphere until all again shall be put aright. We appear in various forms to the inhabitants of these Greylands: sometimes we are not visible, sometimes in our true form though unable to touch mortal things, and at other times we are mortal ourselves, at least enough that we can aid those we must without alerting them to our rather strange nature.

You may deal no injury to mortal men though they may feel for a moment the pain as if you had struck them, but to the minions of our Enemy your blade can either destroy utterly or cause the villain to be banished back to his fell master for a time. In mortal guise, if given a mortal wound we may for a time appear dead, but in what form or shape we return depends upon our Master's will and our current situation. We may simply vanish, take again our natural form, or perhaps even find ourselves whole in mortal guise once more. In mortal guise, mortal weapons can cause us injury and temporary harm. You will feel again sorrow and grief, especially for those who refuse our Master's call, but you cannot despair or lose hope for ours is a Hope and a Joy which is boundless and ever new. Any questions?"

The boy's eyes were wide as he tried to remember all that had suddenly been revealed, saying, once he found voice enough to speak, "what was it you were saying back on the beach about it being strange that I have no mount?"

The man nodded and said, "each of us is paired with one of the Pegassi, they are a free and noble race that lives upon the seaward side of the mountains ever facing the Brightlands. It is their purpose and glory to aid us in our quest, but they have a choice whether to pursue that calling or not. Your intended companion refused, a thing rarely done in all the days since time began. As such, he is a rebel and has been banished to this side of the mountains in hopes that he might one day rue his pride and seek again the King's mercy. The choice is yet his to make and what will come of the matter I know not. You will have help when you need it, fear not, for we are never alone." Suddenly Ryan and his mount were gone and Bayard was left alone in the little copse. He wondered what he was to do next and felt a very strong urging to enter the inn and there wait for whatever was to come.

Bayard waited patiently at a table near the door. Various patrons came and went, but none heeded him save a stranger sitting far to the back, who watched him intently. The presence of the dark man sent a cold thrill down Bayard's spine, for he knew there was something uncanny about the man. The door opened again and Bayard knew that his quarry had come. It was Ithril, Tyne's younger brother. The boy looked a bit older than he had the day they left home; he seemed to recognize Bayard, for he started in surprise but soon smiled warmly in seeming relief.

He seated himself across from the older boy and said, "where have you been? Tyne returned home six months after you both left. He did not stay long nor would he say what had come of your adventures. He left soon after but promised to return, which made me very uneasy. I decided it would be best if I were not home when he came back again."

Bayard eyed the stranger cautiously before speaking, "your brother and I traveled into the far north of the world and attempted to climb the Mountains of Shadow. I was injured and fell down a cliff. I do not know what came of your brother but he left me for dead. What exactly do you plan to do with yourself now that you are loose in the wide world?"

The boy shrugged in embarrassment, his eyes still wide with amazement after Bayard's story, he said, "I do not rightly know but I am to meet with a man tonight who might have an interesting offer to make." Bayard eyed the stranger in alarm but Ithril's attention was drawn to the door, where a middle-aged man had just come in out of the night. He nodded to the boy and stared curiously at Bayard before taking a seat next to Ithril.

He said quietly, "I had not expected you to bring a friend, lad."

The boy smiled, "I was not expecting him either. He and my brother were good friends once and I have not seem him in a year, but I found him here when I arrived."

The man eyed the older boy curiously, "can you use that blade lad?"

Bayard smiled sheepishly, "it depends on who you ask. I am not much of a threat to mankind but neither am I completely useless."

The man smiled in commiseration and said, "the bigger question is can you be trusted? Your young friend here has agreed to secrecy in this matter and if you wish to be part of it I ask that you do the same."

Bayard said, "I shall certainly not betray you."

The man nodded and said, "good, then we had best ride, for there are certain folk about I would like to avoid."

Ithril and the man stood and headed for the door, but Bayard stood slowly and followed at a leisurely pace. As the others vanished into the night, the stranger stood and made for the back door of the inn. Bayard drew forth a dagger and threw it with the unerring accuracy of a master marksman. The stranger made a strangled sort of screaming sound and clutched at the dagger in his back momentarily before vanishing in a puff of smoke. The other patrons of the inn were wide eyed and watched in astonishment as the strange youth left the inn and sighed in relief once he was gone. There was no trace of either the dagger or the dark man. The exchange had taken barely a moment, Bayard's companions failed to notice anything untoward had even happened.

Bayard thought perhaps he should feel a sense of remorse or disgust for dealing so with the Spy at the inn, but it was for this that he was abroad in the world: to protect mortal men from those servants of the Enemy against whom they stood no chance. They must deal with men of evil intent themselves but such a creature as this could not be dealt with by those that yet drew breath.

They emerged from the inn and the man remarked, "I did not like the look of that shifty stranger and hope we will not have reason to regret his presence this night."

Bayard smiled, "I do not think he will be bothering us, at least not tonight."

The man eyed him curiously, "and why is that?"

Bayard shrugged, "just a hunch."

"Perhaps," said the older man, "but more importantly, do you have a horse?"

Bayard said sheepishly, "I am afraid my mount and I have been sundered and alas, I am afoot at the moment."

The man turned to Ithril, "and you?"

The boy said matter-of-factly, "my brother took my father's only spare horse and when I left home he would not lend me so much as a sway-backed mule."

The man sighed, "then I guess we had best start walking as fast and as far as we can while the moon lasts." He took the reins of his own beast and they set off quickly afoot. They walked silently until they were well away from the inn, then the man began to speak quietly but firmly saying, "you are both well aware of the Dark Prince who lurks far to the south while his servants prey upon whom they will. Are you also aware that there are those who dare to stand against such vile men?" Ithril looked hopeful and Bayard listened closely but remained silent.

The man continued, "most consider such men fools or myth, but they are very real, if quite secretive in their habits and movements. It is for this very reason we have come together this night, or at least why Ithril has sought me out. Our as yet nameless friend seems to be here by coincidence but I do not believe in coincidence. What brings us together lad? Is it providence that you have found us or are you one of the Enemy's many spies, sent to find and destroy us?"

Bayard said, "perhaps you could call it providence, but I can assure you that I am no servant of the dark."

The man nodded firmly and said, "you certainly sound as if you speak the truth, but time shall reveal what it will. You seem far too young to have fallen into evil, but this boy's brother is of an age with you and I know he has come to dabble in things best left alone. You were once friends? Tell me how it is that he comes to be a servant of the darkness and you are not of the same ilk?"

Bayard said quietly, "we traveled together for a time, as Ithril has said, but we were parted and afterwards I know not what came of him. But I do know he had an insatiable thirst for power and renown, which I fear led him into darkness. I did not share his longings."

"What then is it you seek lad?" asked the man.

Bayard smiled, "that I was hoping you would tell me. For I am yet in search of my current purpose and quest."

The man smiled, "then perhaps you have found it. If you are interested, I can tell you more of the Whiteguard, the perennial enemy of the Dark Prince's Blackguard." Both of the boys nodded eagerly and the man continued, "very well then. We are free men who have chosen to dedicate our lives to opposing the human servants of the Dark Prince. We are servants of the Great King and therefore uphold His laws, defending the helpless from the minions of evil. We are not as numerous as the minions of the south, but we are well trained in the arts of war and have allies in all lands willing to aid and hide us as they can. We do not fight outright battles but fall upon small groupings of enemy soldiers, patrols, scouts, and raiding parties. It is a dangerous life but I know none so worthwhile or exciting. If you are looking for something to do with your lives it is an honorable life though you shall never gain riches or renown."

Ithril was agape with wonder and a bit taken aback at mention of the Great King. Bayard smiled slightly in thoughtful amusement, thinking that he would have been wiser to take up with such men rather than to so foolishly attempt the mountains. These men risked death on behalf of others; he had walked willingly to his doom after ample warning and for no good reason.

"And who is to say you did not have a good reason?" asked the magpie sitting on his shoulder. Bayard jumped in surprise but the others did not seem to notice the bird or his reaction to it. It continued, "some are called to one thing and some to another path. I called and you answered. Do not regret what might have been, for things can only be as they are. I know the what ifs and the maybes but it is only for you to know what is and what has been and to see what yet shall be." He was gone as suddenly as He had appeared. Bayard shook his head in astonishment, wondering if he would ever get used to such things.

Ithril continued as if the whole interlude with the bird had taken place in no time at all, "must you serve this Great King in order to take up with the Whiteguard?"

The man nodded, "many think Him myth at first, but all must serve Him willingly or you can have no part in us or we in you. It is a brotherhood devoted to His service and His alone. Otherwise we would just be serving ourselves and would soon fall to the evils of pride and selfishness and become nothing more than another bandit horde depredating whom we would. And what think you on the matter lad?"

Bayard smiled, "I am at the service of the King and gladly do His will."

Ithril gaped, "are you serious?"

Bayard laughed, "your brother thought me equally foolish, but I pray you do not follow his tragic example."

Ithril sighed, "I suppose I should withhold judgment until I have learned more, for I am yet ignorant of such things."

The man laughed, "now there is wisdom lad. Fear not, for many things thought to live only in story actually dwell in the real world, though it might be a safer world if some such things were only myth."

The moon had vanished beyond the distant hills and the night grew very dark. They found a secluded place to camp and were soon asleep though Bayard was in no need of such rest. He needed neither sleep nor food nor water and only appeared to draw breath that others not wonder why he did not breathe. Bayard kept a careful watch but no fell thing disturbed their slumber. In the morning, the man passed around some rations from his saddlebags and then they continued on their way. "We really need to get the pair of you mounted," said the man in good-natured irritation, "else you will be my age before we reach the nearest company of the Guard."

At this, they turned off down a side road and pressed hard all morning, arriving outside the gates of a well-to-do lord's residence near midday. Ithril gave Bayard a nervous look and the guards at the gate eyed the strangers suspiciously before saying, "and what would such a trio of wandering ragamuffins demand of our Lord?"

The man did not seem offended or intimidated in the least and said, "we would wish an audience with Lord Colwin if he would deign to see us this day. We were friends long ago, very nearly brothers; our need is great else I would not dare intrude upon his Lordship's invaluable time."

The guard eyed him skeptically and said, "and who should I say is daring to bother his lordship?"

The man said, "one whose name is not worth remembering."

The guard gave him a dangerous look and said, "I shall carry your message but know I am within my rights to deal with you harshly if this is some trick or a waste of my time."

The man nodded solemnly and said, "I expected nothing else."

The guard raised an eyebrow but hurried off with the message. Ithril was impatient with nervousness but Bayard and the man seemed unconcerned with the interminable wait. The guard finally returned and said quite formally but with no little amazement, "his lordship will deign to see you but you must not trouble him long. Come."

They followed the guard into the courtyard where the man left his horse with an attendant then they followed the guard deep into the heart of the great house wherein sat the lord. The lord sat before a great fire, stroking a grey cat upon his lap; he looked up with some surprise at his visitors but wasted no time in signaling for the guard to leave them in peace. Another look of surprise crossed the guard's face but he quickly bowed and retreated. The three strangers bowed before his lordship, who spoke even before the door had shut behind the retreating guard, "it has been a long time Jaden, in fact I thought never to see you again. Is it not dangerous to have such as yourself consorting with an upstanding lord such as myself? How is it you have survived all this time?"

The man smiled bemusedly and said, "I thought never again to see you, for fear of bringing the wrath of my enemies upon you, but it is a desperate thing that drives me to beg at your door. I will be gone again as soon as I can. But it is good to see you once more."

Colwin laughed, "ever the idealist I see! You are ever welcome though your enemies certainly are not. I know why you have stayed away but I must say that I have missed you. Now what is this dire need that forces you to visit your brother once more?"

Jaden said, "these boys actually. I fear we have enemies not far behind us and they are afoot. I would beg the use of a pair of horses if you can spare them."

Colwin shook his head, "most of my horses are out in the fields or assigned to my soldiers, save one beast whose master has taken ill. There is also quite a magnificent specimen of recent acquisition but no man can sit upon him and live to tell the tale. I can give you the unfortunate's beast and you may take your chances with the other."

Jaden bowed deeply and said, "you have my deepest thanks!"

Colwin laughed, "by rights all of this should be yours. The least I can do is loan you a horse. Will you yet deny your birthright?"

Jaden smiled as if this were an old argument and said, "perhaps my birthright but not my heart's desire. I have found my true calling and nothing save death will sunder me from it."

Colwin shook his head sadly, "and that is what I fear shall be your only reward for your foolishness! Let us pray you have not brought disaster upon all our heads. You had best be gone before more of the household learns of your presence. There will be rumors enough as it is."

The lord stood and briefly embraced his brother before chasing them from the room and giving the servant at the door explicit instructions as to how his visitors were to be horsed. The servant's eyes were wide but he bowed deeply and led the strangers to the stableyard. Colwin watched his brother vanish out the door and wondered at the tales that had captured his heart and consumed his life. What could tempt a man away from a life of relative wealth and security when the majority of humanity toiled in ignominy and often lacked the nicer comforts of life? He wondered if he would ever see him again and part of him enviously wondered if he could ever find such purpose. He returned to his chair and his cat and stared into the answerless fire.

The spare horse was saddled and brought forth. Ithril looked at the beast with trepidation, not having spent nearly as much time in the saddle as his elder brother. Jaden said, "I fear you will have to ride double, but at least it will be far swifter than walking."

Bayard said, "let me at least see this terrible beast of which his lordship spoke. Perhaps we can get some use out of him and thereby hasten our travel."

The servant's eyes were as wide as they could possibly get when he said, "you may try the beast but only a fool would attempt such an act!"

Bayard nodded and said, "it will not hurt to at least have a look at him."

The servant nodded and led the boy to a small corral constructed of sturdy logs, at the center of which stood a thick post driven deeply into the ground to which was tied the most fantastic horse any mortal eye had ever beheld. A wild light burned in his eyes and no one who knew anything of horses would get near the beast unless he was suicidal. He was bound head and foot with length upon length of rope but even so, a deadly menace seemed to emanate from the creature.

Jaden said in quiet wonder, "you had best come along lad, no mortal man can ride that beast."

Bayard nodded and said, "I will not be content until I have at least spoken to the creature."

The servant laughed in derision, "you are a fool to think such a monster can be reasoned with!"

Bayard paid him no heed and was already straddling the fence and leaping into the pen. The horse laid his ears back and the whites of his eyes were visible all the way across the pen. His nostrils flared and the threat of imminent doom tingled in the air. Bayard showed no sign of fear or even caring, making the others wonder if he knew anything of horses at all or if he were simply a fool. He whispered quietly to the horse once he was close enough to be heard, but the others could only discern a sort of murmuring which they took for a foolish attempt at soothing the wild creature.

Bayard said, "I know you are angry, frustrated, humiliated, lost, and despairing of all hope. Has freedom truly been worth the price? Are you truly free? Is this what you aspired to be one day?"

The horse's ears pricked in surprise and all signs of malice were replaced by those of utter confusion. "Who are you," said the horse quietly, "that would speak to a wretched beast so and what would you have of me?"

Bayard said, "who I am matters not, but our need is great. I would ask that you bear me from this place to one where another, more willing mount can be acquired."

The horse snorted in derision, "so you are simply another man who wishes to enslave my noble race?"

Bayard said, "I ask, I do not demand. A slave has no choice. I can simply walk away and leave you as you are if you refuse me."

The horse sneered, "so you would leave me in the hands of these barbarians to be a slave for all my mortal days?"

The boy said, "what would come of you if you were loosed? Were you not once free already? Were you not taken by men and would you not be taken again? I ask only that you bear me for a short time, which will also avail your escape. Once free of civilized lands you can find a desolate place more to your liking away from the habitations of men to live out the rest of your days in peace."

The horse sighed, "and what is that to me? A life of slavery or exile holds little joy yet death is even worse! Must I endure a few years of suffering and sorrow only to be cast forever into such a miserable place that my former days appear joyful by comparison? What is the point of anything?"

The boy asked, "are you so bereft of hope?"

The horse eyed him as if he were a fool, "I am a rebel and a traitor in the eyes of my people and my rightful King. I have denied everything in hopes of gaining true freedom only to find myself truly a slave and forever doomed to such an existence. I have been granted my heart's desire and find it deeply distasteful but alas, my rightful portion."

"Is there no hope?" asked the patient boy.

The horse said, "perhaps for your miserable race but not for mine. I have denied the King and there is the end of the matter."

The boy smiled, "why is my rebellious race spared but yours is not?"

The horse asked skeptically, "what do you mean? The King offers redemption to fallen men but I have never heard it spoken that my race was in need of such an offer."

The boy's smile deepened, "and how many of your race have fallen into disgrace as did the forefathers of men?"

The horse's eyes were wide, "none I suppose. Do you mean to say that my disgrace is no worse than the fathers of men millennia ago? If that be true then perhaps even such a wretch as I can yet be rescued from impending doom! I have been a fool but perhaps no longer. Things would have been so much better had I simply done that which I knew I should have at the first. But perhaps all is not irrevocably lost."

Bayard smiled, "now what of that which I ask of you?"

The horse snorted, "it is highly demeaning for one of my race to carry one of yours, at least in this fallen sphere. Perhaps in another place and time however?"

The boy said simply, "can things get any more demeaning in your case? Would you again let your pride keep you from that which you know is your rightful duty?"

The horse sighed, "I suppose you must be right but I will carry no servant of the Evil One nor one bent on his own pleasure. Tell me truly if you serve the King and it is at His behest you ride on some errand of import?"

The boy said, "this errand is truly of His making and I am but the least of His servants. You must know also that the servants of the Enemy are certainly pursuing us."

The horse snorted in excitement, "now then this is an errand to my liking but what if I am simply using this as an excuse to free myself and abandon you to your fate the first chance I get?"

The boy said, "then you are a deceitful and selfish creature wholly bent on your own advancement and a true servant of the Enemy whether you have declared for him or not."

The horse snorted in amusement, "fear not, for I shall keep my word. You have given me hope and for that I shall do as you ask."

The boy said, "do it for the King and His glory, not for the sake of such a lowly creature as I."

The horse nodded, "truly spoken, now let us be on our way. Know that it is a thing never done, for my noble race to bear a mortal man."

The boy smiled quietly but made no reply as he began loosing the horse, which took a considerable amount of effort owing to the number of ropes that bound him. The three spectators were aghast but dared not interfere in case the horse take a fright and injure the boy worse than he already might. Finally the task was completed and the horse ran and bucked and frisked about the enclosure as the boy called, "bring me a saddle and bridle please."

The servant was near to fainting with shock but ran to accomplish the task as the horse approached the boy and quietly groused, "if this thing is to be done I will not be arrayed as a common beast of burden."

The boy laughed, "if you wish to reveal your true nature to all and sundry feel free but you need to at least look the part else awkward questions will arise. I did not say I would use such implements to force you. In truth you could easily unseat me and be off to adventures of your own did I try."

The horse nodded at this seeming sense and said, "as long as we are agreed, I shall do what I must. But I am no slave but a willing accomplice."

The boy smiled, "as it ever should be."

The servant soon returned with the requested gear, the horse stood patiently while the boy tacked him up, and only showed minor reluctance in taking the bit. The boy was soon in the saddle, the servant opened the gate, while the horse trotted out as if he had been doing so his entire life. Jaden gasped, "how did you tame such a beast? Are you some wizard or other fell worker of dark magics?"

The boy laughed, "be it far from me to ever attempt such a horrid thing! Sometimes a few gentle and sensible words go much farther than all the whips and ropes in the world. Had we not best be going?"

The man suddenly remembered their precarious circumstances and quickly got into his own saddle while the awkward Ithril did likewise. They were soon on their way, leaving the servants to wonder if some sort of a sorcerer had not indeed spirited away that terrible horse, much to the relief of all.

Once they were well away from the lands of Lord Colwin, Jaden said, "now we must ride swiftly lest the time we lost afoot be used to the advantage of those who might be following. I do not trust the look of the man at the inn, though he is not currently a threat I do not doubt he has friends." He turned and gave Bayard a significant look, "after recent happenings boy, I am not sure I trust you fully either, but you have been true so far so I am forced to trust you. Do nothing to disappoint me; you claim to follow the King and it seems you tell the truth, but you would be wise to leave now if you mean any harm to me or mine."

Bayard bowed in his saddle and said, "you shall suffer no hurt on my behalf sir. I am ever your ally as long as you are faithful to the King."

He then turned to Ithril, "you seem in doubt of the sanity of this expedition lad. You had best make a commitment one way or the other, for as long as you ride with us you are vulnerable to the servants of the Enemy, and even if you part from us you may still be at risk for even having ridden with us."

Ithril sighed, "I need to know more of this King of yours. I still half think him a myth but perhaps tonight, between you both I can learn what I must to come to a decision. I greatly wish to oppose the Dark Prince and escape the snare I fear my brother has laid for me."

They rode hard after that and there was little time for talk. For two days they pressed on as fast as the horses could go over such a distance and had little time or energy at night for anything but falling into their blankets and finding what sleep they could. Finally, Jaden slowed their pace, content that perhaps they had outrun any pursuit the Enemy might have sent after them. That night, Ithril had the energy to listen to Jaden as he spoke of the many legends of the King and His servants and the rebellion and redemption of mankind.

As they fell into their blankets that night, Ithril asked of Bayard, "how did you tame that horse? I do not recall you ever having any special talent with the lesser beasts."

Bayard laughed, "let us just say I have learned a few things in my travels. Have you made up your mind?"

Ithril sighed, "it all sounds so wonderful and amazing yet some part of me wishes it were all truly a story. Why cannot man just live as he wishes and then die and know no more?"

Bayard said, "because we were made and intended for far greater things than our meager minds can even fathom or dream. Why be content to splash in the shallows when the whole ocean is yours to explore?"

Ithril yawned, "I suppose you must be right but for now I will go to sleep."

Bayard got up and walked towards Jaden, who was sitting up for the first watch. Jaden said as the boy approached, "shouldn't you be in bed?"

Bayard shrugged and said, "I am not tired and lying still, staring into the darkness is of no use. I might as well take the first watch if it means you can get some rest."

The man nodded his thanks but wondered if the boy did not have some sinister motive in his seeming kindness. Jaden retreated to his blankets but sleep was long in coming. Bayard waited and watched the night; he was restless and knew something lurked in the dark outside the camp. They had traveled swiftly but no horse can outrun certain of the Enemy's minions. The horses whinnied in fear as a desolate and bone chilling howl filled the night, which brought both of the sleepers wide awake.

Jaden struggled out of his blankets and reached grimly for his sword, knowing it was no use, saying, "you two had best ride. I cannot stop a Fellhound but perhaps I can slow him down or maybe he will be content with me?"

Ithril stuttered in fear, "I thought they were just myths!"

Bayard said grimly, "only as mythic as his master and the King. You might want to make your decision quickly for death stalks the night."

Ithril gasped, "is there no hope?"

Jaden snorted, "there is always some hope, for the King has servants abroad in the world just as the Enemy, but there is no guarantee of rescue from such a foe. We mere mortals cannot hurt the beast and once they have found your scent nothing will stay him from the chase save his destruction or ours. Now ride!"

Bayard said, "I will make a stand rather than be chased down and destroyed while I flee blindly into the night."

Jaden said, "you are either mad, in league with the Enemy and thus have no fear, or braver than any man I have ever heard of."

Bayard drew his sword and said, "you two had best get moving before your horses break loose or die of fright."

Jaden growled, "I thought to make my stand. Besides, I am the one giving orders here!"

Bayard laughed, "is there any point in two dying here rather than one? Besides, I am not yet under your command!"

Jaden sheathed his blade and said, "you are certainly a stubborn one, lad. I will give you this chance though I doubt any of us will live to see the morning."

With that, he took Ithril by the shoulder and guided the frozen boy to the panicked horses, which were desperate to run. There was no sign of Bayard's mad horse. They mounted quickly, let the horses have their heads, and were soon well and truly gone. The howl sounded again in the night, this time closer.

"What are you doing?" asked the voice of the horse from behind Bayard, "Perhaps you can tame a wild horse but I doubt your charms will work on that thing!"

Bayard smiled in anticipation, "I am not planning to soothe the wild beast save perhaps with my sword."

The horse snorted, "did you not listen to what the other man said? They do not die so easily as you might think upon a mortal blade!"

Bayard said, "if you are afraid, you may go and I will count your promise fulfilled, otherwise do not distract me."

The beast came out of the night slowly, sniffing the air and growling under his breath. He was blacker than a starless midnight with glowing coals for eyes. He was as big as a small horse and though hound like, he had a certain reptilian cast. He sniffed cautiously at the pair before him, not quite knowing what to make of either creature. He whined pathetically and a voice spoke out of the dark, "how is it you have not fled? Come to beg for your life or that of your friends?"

Bayard said, "be gone and leave us be or I shall make an end of your beast and therefore yourself, Houndmaster."

The shadow draped man laughed derisively, "you are of no account boy. You or your pathetic companions, but my master has commanded that an end be made of you and that is what shall happen unless you bend knee to the Dark."

Bayard said quietly, "I bend knee to the King alone as all shall do one day, even your fell lord."

The dark man laughed, "so be it. Take him!" He motioned and the hound was upon Bayard faster than sight, but the boy's sword was up and the creature leapt full upon it. It whined pathetically, which escalated into a howl of absolute and utter despair as it vanished in a wisp of acrid smoke that blew away on a sudden breeze. The Houndmaster's eyes widened, he himself became misty and then transparent, and then vanished entirely, leaving the horse and boy alone in the night.

The horse's eyes were no less wide as he looked at the boy. The weight of the beast had knocked Bayard to the ground but as he climbed to his feet, he did not seem injured in the least. "What is going on?" said the horse darkly, "You have not told the full truth. Who or what are you? How do you know what you know about me? How is it you can stand against such a foe and live?"

The boy said quietly, "I have told you as much as I can for the moment, perhaps one day you will know the full tale. But then neither have you told me all your story. If that is not to your satisfaction I suggest you find another companion."

The horse said quietly, "this puzzles me greatly, but I must be content for the moment. I will accompany you a little longer and perhaps I can discover the answer to this riddle."

The boy said, "we had best go find the others."

The horse nodded and the boy was soon on his back, pursuing his fled companions. They had not far to go, for the others had fled out of one danger into one perhaps far worse. A full dozen men in dark armor had surrounded the pair, who were desperately flailing about with their swords, trying to ward off the host while a Wraith sat his hideous mount not far away and scowled, "take them alive you fools!"

The horse whispered to the boy as they charged, "you are seriously going to take on a Wraith?"

The boy laughed, "is there anyone else here to do it? Are you with me?"

The horse sighed, "perhaps it will not be long and I shall see my homeland again." He screamed in fury as he charged the monstrosity and Bayard drew his sword once more.

The Wraith looked a man but was colder than death in both his manner and to the touch; such creatures were masters of all sorts of magic vile and dark. Their preferred mounts were of an equine visage but like the Fellhound, had a vaguely reptilian feel to them and seemed part of the night itself. He laughed scornfully as the fool boy charged and eagerly spurred his beast to meet the challenge. One touch of his blade was inevitably fatal to any mortal so wounded; the beast was always hungry for fresh meat and croaked in anticipation of the coming feast. The Wraith could have simply destroyed the pair with one of his many evil enchantments but he preferred to watch his victims die slowly in despair as they succumbed to what might otherwise have been a minor wound. He easily cut the horse out from under the impetuous fool; the beast fell with the horrible scream of the mortally wounded equine and Bayard barely managed to jump free before the poor creature fell.

The Wraith dismounted ere his beast could set upon the boy and approached ominously, much anticipating the spectacle to come. The boy held his sword before him and then their weapons clashed together. They exchanged several blows as the Wraith toyed with his prey before striking like a snake. A slash on the boy's shoulder would ensure a slow and amusing death while the boy's counterstroke would be completely harmless to such as himself, except that this was not simply an ambitious boy but one of the King's Messengers. The counterstroke took the Wraith in the chest; he fell to ash and charred bone as the stroke fell and the beast met a similar fate. Bayard went to his knees and clutched at his wounded shoulder; it burned like ice but was already beginning to heal. Had he been yet a mortal man, the creeping death would have spread slowly across his chest and frozen his breath in his lungs and stilled his heart. As one beyond death, it was simply a minor irritation though a mortal wound would have banished him back to the Sea.

He stood and looked sadly at the dead horse and wondered what future lay before the poor beast. He then turned his eyes back to his embattled companions, who had been forgotten for the moment as he took on the Wraith. There was now a full scale battle raging as a dozen men had ridden out of the night to rescue the overwhelmed pair. The Blackguard was soon overwhelmed and those not killed were quickly driven off as they witnessed the demise of their leader and lost their sense of invincibility, for what terrible enemies were these that could defeat such a creature? The newcomers were making quite a fuss over the rescued Jaden and Ithril, the latter seemed on the verge of fainting with the strangeness of the night. It seemed this was one of the roving bands of the Whiteguard and of this particular unit Jaden was captain. In the excitement, none had noticed the Wraith, Bayard, or the strange battle. Bayard decided to make his way back towards the camp before anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary. Thankfully the darkness covered his retreat as well as it had covered his entrance and the men were so lost in their jubilation that he was easily overlooked, for it would be quite difficult to explain what exactly it was that had transpired this night.

The pale grey of dawn was just visible in the east as Bayard crept back into the little wooded dell where they had taken cover for the night but there was a different sort of light filling the little glade. There stood a Pegassi stallion in all his glory. He whinnied for joy when he saw the boy creeping into the dell. Bayard was for a moment stunned to see such a sight in such a place, but then the marvelous creature spoke with the familiar voice of the horse in laughing joy, "at last I understand."

And suddenly he was just an ordinary horse again, standing there looking as regular and boring as a horse might. Bayard asked, "what happened?"

Erian laughed, "in my rebellion I became mortal and therefore doomed to die, but not forever as those poor souls who refuse the King. And so I did. I met the King upon the shore of the Sea and He asked again if I would do that for which my race was made, else I could cross the Sea and come back no more until the Last Day. I finally said yes, and it seems at last you are properly horsed and I am doing that for which I was made!"

Bayard smiled, "welcome home my friend. Now what?"

Erian said, "we are to ride with these men for a time and protect them from those foes they cannot handle themselves. I think it will be rather awkward for you at least, but then it has been such since first we met! Ware, they are even now upon us."

Jaden crept into the clearing with drawn sword and the others followed cautiously. He dropped his sword in amazement when he saw the boy standing alive in the morning sun and his fool horse cropping away at the grass as if he were in a familiar pasture. "How?" gasped the amazed man.

"How what?" asked Bayard a bit sheepishly.

Jaden said quietly, "I thought we had seen the last of you. Where is the Fellhound?"

Bayard said, "he did me no harm. I do not know where it now dwells, but I have not seen it since you two rode off. Who are your friends?"

Jaden quickly told the tale, which Bayard already knew, and finished by saying, "I could have sworn there was a Wraith or some such thing directing those men, but who knows what really happened this night? Let us rest here for the day and this evening we'll take to the road. I still do not know how the boy survived?"

One of the older men laughed saying, "how did any of you survive this night? Perhaps he was not the thing's rightful quarry therefore it did him no harm. Let us all just thank the King we have survived and rest while we can."

Two men stayed up to watch while the rest sought their blankets. Ithril whispered to Bayard as they crawled into their blankets, "what a night! I am not sure I was made for all of this excitement but then I do not think I was made to walk behind a plow either."

Jaden laughed beside him, "this is the most excitement I have had in twenty years in the Guard and hopefully it shall be the most excitement I ever have, else I am getting too old for such adventures!"

Ithril yawned and replied, "then perhaps I can consider such a career after all." They exchanged a laugh and were soon asleep.

Late afternoon crept upon them and all climbed into their saddles to put some distance between themselves and the place where the Enemy knew they had last been. They rode steadily until there was no more light to see and they were forced to make camp. "Captain," said one of the younger men in the party quietly to Jaden as the others were busy making camp, "who are these newcomers? I do not think I trust them, at least not the older of the pair. No one faces a Fellhound and lives, save perhaps a servant of the Enemy."

The captain nodded thoughtfully, "the younger of the two is still something of a skeptic but I yet have hope for him. The other is certainly an oddity; I have no reason to distrust him but there are so many strange occurrences surrounding him that I know not what to think."

The younger man said, "I think I will keep a close eye on him if I have your leave? The last thing we need are spies and traitors in our midst."

The captain nodded grimly and said, "I think that would be an excellent idea but speak of this to no one but me."

They rode on for several days and resumed the patrol that the incursion of the Blackguard had interrupted, but nothing of note happened. The others in the party spoke eagerly with Ithril but they felt awkward and unsure around Bayard and for the most part ignored him unless they stared at him suspiciously when they thought he was not looking. Bayard took no notice of their behavior, for he knew there were things about himself that he could not explain and without that, they had only their imaginations to explain things which was far from satisfactory and often stranger than the truth. One night, one of the scouts came back with a report of an encampment of the Blackguard not far to the south. Jaden ordered his men into their saddles and they rode to confront their perennial foes.

When they arrived at the campsite, they found it abandoned but had no time to ponder what this might mean, for the horses suddenly went mad with terror and their ranks were thrown into chaos. A Dreadlord, upon his fell winged reptile, stepped into their midst and men were thrown to the ground or carried off by their panicked mounts. The Blackguard had seen the scout and retreated, so that they might ambush their attackers. As the horses panicked, so did the hidden Blackguard fall upon their scattered enemies. Erian was the only horse in the entire Whiteguard that did not panic but Bayard's heart sank as he somehow recognized this particular Dreadlord as Tyne. Tyne easily recognized Bayard and a dreadful curiosity mixed with a sneer spread across his face.

"You are dead," said Tyne incredulously.

Bayard unsheathed his sword and said simply, "it seems you are worse than dead."

Tyne laughed in his own horrible way, "I have found true power!"

Bayard shook his head sadly, "you have found a living death."

Tyne mocked, "and what of you? What kind of an existence have you discovered? I am immortal and you are still but a wretched boy! Give me my brother and I shall perhaps spare you."

Bayard glanced around and could see none of the others, for they had been scattered with the appearance of the Dreadlord. Bayard said, "he is not mine to give or to keep but I shall defend his life with my own."

Tyne scoffed, "you have no life to give! You are but a ghost and I shall give you a second death."

He spurred the winged reptile forward and Erian screamed his battle cry. Their swords clashed together as battle was met. Bayard took a glancing blow on the shoulder the Wraith had injured previously, it felt like hot iron had been thrust into the nearly healed wound. He screamed but managed to drive his own blade into Tyne's chest. The winged reptile screamed as it fell to dust and Tyne vanished with a howl and breath of smoke. Bayard knew it was not the last time they would meet.

As Erian turned, Bayard saw Jaden fighting desperately with two of the Blackguard. Erian said quietly, "this is a foe against which your sword will not avail."

Bayard sheathed his blade and sighed, "I know but I wish there was something I could do."

The captain managed to fell one of his foes but was mortally wounded by the other, but he returned the favor before he fell to the ground and lay still. With the loss of the Dreadlord, the horses quieted and the heart went out of the Blackguard, allowing the Whiteguard to fight back and win the day though not without a cost. Several were wounded and the captain was dead; they had also lost several of the horses, which had either been killed or had run off in terror at sight of the Dreadlord. There was also the question of treason to be addressed.

The suspicious young soldier, who had previously spoken to the captain about his mistrust of Bayard, spoke up before the entire discouraged company, "this man is a traitor and a spy! I saw him stand by as the captain fought for his life and he did nothing!" The man pointed blatantly at Bayard and the gathered company murmured darkly, for they were greatly upset at both the ambush and the loss of their leader and had always been distrustful of the boy. The man continued, "what has he to say for himself on that point? What has he to say about all the strange goings-on that seem to surround him? There can be no other explanation than that he has betrayed us to the Enemy, perhaps on multiple occasions!"

They looked accusingly at Bayard, who said, "I can offer no testimony in my own defense save that I am as grieved by the captain's loss as any of you."

"Hah," scoffed his accuser, "then why did you not render him aid even if it came too late?"

Bayard said quietly, "there was nothing I could have done though every fiber of my being wished to do something."

The young man continued, "did anyone see him confronting the Blackguard? Where was he during the fighting?"

Ithril spoke up nervously, "is this not what the Enemy would want? Infighting within the ranks of his foes? Your late captain certainly would not approve."

The man scoffed, "and who are you to speak up? You who are perhaps in league with this spy?" Ithril dropped his eyes and mumbled something inaudible. Said the suspicious soldier, "let us have a vote and see if this company is willing to continue trusting this wretch!" There were many murmurs of assent and the vote was called. None voted in favor of the boy and Ithril dared not vote at all. "Now," said the ringleader darkly, "we have declared him a spy and we shall dispense with him as our laws demand."

The soldier raised his sword and Ithril screamed in terror, "no!"

Bayard waited patiently and made no move towards his own blade but said simply, "this is not justice but murder!" He said no more, for the sword was raised, as the man struck the fatal blow, the boy vanished in a flash of light, making all wonder what had happened; his horse also vanished that day.

"What happened," gasped one of the men, "there was something truly unnatural about that boy and I begin to wonder if he was rather a servant of the King than of the Enemy?"

Snarled the murderous soldier, "he was nothing but a spy and this proves it. What of you boy? Will you admit your own vile connections?" Ithril's eyes filled with tears and he ran from the murderous band without a second look. "Let the fool go," growled the soldier, still holding his sword.

"I think I will go too," said one soldier, "I have been a fool and have not the heart to remain in the same unit that would vote to do such a thing so rashly!"

"Go then," snarled the suspicious man, "and take all such heretics with you!" The entire band stood as one and left the man alone with his wrath. They disbanded that night and some sought service with another band of the Guard, while others settled down and raised a family, and still others went from place to place speaking of the King. The angry man went south and was never seen among living men again.

Ithril found himself weeping alone in the night with no idea where he was or why. He had come to hope that this King might actually be real but if this was what His followers were like it must truly be myth.

"You judge Me by the failings of mortal men?" squawked a magpie from the branch above his head.

Ithril looked up in astonishment, "who are you?" The bird just looked at him and he nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose You must be right but what have I to do with You?"

The bird laughed, "the better question is what have I to do with any sort of fallen creature such as yourself? But yet I would have none lost but alas, some choose poorly and I will not renege on My gift that they might choose their own fates. Now what of your choice?"

The boy gaped, "I would very much like to be on Your side Sir, but I fear I am not of much use."

Laughed the bird, "all I need is a willing heart, I will provide the rest as it is needed in your service. Here then is what you shall do..."

Bayard awoke on the Beach, with the gentle waves lapping at his feet. Erian stood at his shoulder and nudged him gently with his muzzle. He put a hand to his head and shakily stood; Erian whinnied his approval and set to bucking and rearing in his excitement, saying, "it is good to be home once more."

Bayard shook his head in amusement at the Pegassi's antics; his smile deepened as he looked further up the beach. He turned to the winged creature, which was now frisking in the waves, saying, "if you are done fooling around my dear Pegassi, we have work to do."

Erian cocked his head and followed the gaze of his friend and saw what had drawn his attention. The Pegassi snorted, "at least he will finally get his questions answered."

They approached the late captain, who stood gazing about himself in wonder, but as yet his back was towards them and he thought himself quite alone in all this strange and wonderful world. Erian's whicker caused the man to turn suddenly and it took him a moment to fully recognize the boy, for he was quite overawed by the glorious Pegassi at his shoulder.

Bayard grinned, "are you now satisfied captain, that I am no fell servant of evil?"

Jaden shook his head in wonder, "it is all quite overwhelming, but this explains much! What of your tale? And Ithril's brother?"

Bayard shook his head, "my tale was very much as I told you, save that it was death that sundered us. Tyne must have taken up with some servant of the Dark One shortly after I fell, for he has become a Dreadlord, the same which fell upon you and your men this very day."

The captain smiled in anticipation, "I have entered upon a very strange profession I think."

Erian spoke, "quite strange to mortal sensibilities at least, but quite wonderful nonetheless."

The captain cocked his head, "the wild horse?"

Erian performed a lovely bow, "the same."

Jaden smiled, "this day just keeps getting stranger."

"And so it will," said a new voice, "at least until you quit thinking like a mortal and start thinking like a Messenger. Come! We have errands to be about." A smile nearly split the captain's face as he was introduced to the newly arrived Pegassi mare and formed a bond that would last until one or both decided to cross oversea.

"The lady is right," whinnied Erian, as Bayard leapt aback his own mount and they vanished upon their next quest. Jaden shook his head in wonder and did likewise.

Ithril soon found the man to whom the Master had sent him; the old man sat smoking a pipe at the back of an empty common room in an inn that it seemed the world had forgot. The place was so lively that even the innkeeper found time for a nap this time in the afternoon. The man looked curiously at the boy as he introduced himself and took a seat across from the aged storyteller. The boy then proceeded to tell his strange tale, after which the astonished man said, "lad, that is quite the story, and believe me I know many a tale. If it be true, and from the way you tell it I cannot doubt it, you are in grave danger. I can answer your questions but I can offer you neither safety nor comfort, for if you truly are hunted by your brother and he is a true servant of evil, there is no haven or refuge for you short of the Sea."

The boy gasped, "but no one can survive that journey."

The man shook his head sadly, "neither will you survive a Dreadlord's wrath. Better to die escaping than to be captured and eventually surrender to the will of our enemies."

The fear in Ithril's eyes hardened into a determination to avoid his brother at all costs. He nodded slowly and said, "then I had best not remain in one place too long, but I do have a few questions ere I go." They talked long into the afternoon and finally, as the meager evening crowd began to trickle in, the boy bid his mentor adieu and vanished out the back of the inn. The man watched him go and wondered what lay ahead for the poor lad.

Bayard and Erian stood silently in the gathering dark outside the forgotten inn and exchanged a smile when their quarry emerged into the night. The boy had no idea they were warding his steps and keeping the servants of evil from falling upon him. He thought himself alone in all the world, hunted by forces he could not even begin to comprehend for reasons he could not fathom, but it was simply a matter of vengeance, for Tyne had vowed to have his brother a fellow servant of evil or else to see him dead, and he would not rest until the matter was finished. But he was not alone, as are all who fully trust in the Master, and he would not fall an easy victim to his brother's schemes. He likely would not survive the adventure but there are more important things in life (and beyond) than death. In exhaustion he lay down in a quiet dell and was quickly asleep while others watched that he might do so in peace.

It was a rather uneventful journey for Ithril, at least initially, for those minions of evil that did make an appearance in search of the boy or who might report him to their fell masters were quickly and silently dealt with by his unseen guardians. And as he yet traveled through civilized lands, he was able to find enough generous souls in his wanderings that he did not starve nor always have to sleep rough. It was so easy a journey that the boy began to wonder if indeed he truly were hunted as he had thought or if it were all a strange dream. Was there not something else he could do with his life save throw it away in a desperate flight into the Mountains? Where fear and danger could not overcome, perhaps complacency could undermine his natal faith, but ere he could shrug the whole ordeal off as a silly dream, the Mountains loomed before him. His stomach complained, for he had not seen a human habitation in two days nor eaten in that time either. He looked fearfully up into those cloud-shrouded peaks and wondered if it truly must be so.

"What troubles you lad?" came a curious and amused voice. Ithril turned to stare in wonder and surprise at the short, aged man sitting beneath a weathered signpost beside a wandering track leading up into the hills.

The boy sighed, "I have had such strange adventures of late and it seems death or submission to evil must be the inevitable outcome. I thought I must retreat into the heights but only death lurks therein, yet worse may yet pursue me if I do not, but my travels have been without danger or incident of late and I begin to doubt the sanity of my original intent."

The man cocked his head and asked, "and what danger could drive a man willingly into those hills?"

The boy shivered, "my brother has become a fell servant of evil and pursues me, that I may do likewise, which I am loath to do. It is death behind and death ahead. What am I to do?"

The man smiled sadly, "take to the hills boy, at least there you may evade the clutches of evil. I would not doubt your original intent for the sake of a lull in your adventures; continue on as you know you must and all will be well in the end though the middle might be dark and desperate."

The boy nodded grimly, "not the words I wanted to hear but those that I needed. I thank you for your wisdom sir."

The little man smiled, "I can not only feed your resolve lad but also your body, take this bit of food with you ere you faint upon the way. It will be a difficult enough journey without starving upon it." Ithril took the proffered bag, thanked the little man again, and with a much heartened spirit, set out anew. The little man winked at Bayard and Erian as they ghosted silently after.

Bayard asked Erian in surprise, "he can see us?"

Erian shook his head in amusement, "he is no mortal man but some cousin of Elfkind and a fellow servant of our Master."

Bayard smiled in remembrance, "it was he that sat in the same spot and gave direction to Tyne and me when we passed this way what seems a lifetime ago."

Erian continued, "and so he will sit and give direction to all those weary wanderers who seek some greater purpose or meaning than that which the wide world has yet been able to give them until the Mountains themselves crumble into the Sea and all is made new."

Bayard nodded thoughtfully, cast a parting salute at the little man, and continued their pursuit of Ithril. The boy had climbed high into the hills and was starting his journey into the very heart of the Mountains when Bayard recognized the country through which they passed. He said quietly to Erian, though the boy could neither see nor hear them, "this was the way I came and it was very near this spot that I..."

He broke off as he recognized the rocky precipice where he had made his last stand as a mortal man, but thankfully the woods were now blissfully silent and there seemed no imminent threat to the boy. Erian turned his great head and eyed his rider, "we can do nothing to aid the boy if the normal denizens of this place decide to move against him. All we may do is ward him from the servants of evil over whom mortals have no power."

Bayard said thoughtfully, "that I know, but it will be hard to stand aside and do nothing."

Erian said in surprise as he swung his head back around to look upon their quarry, "we may not have long to wait! What is he doing?"

Bayard shook his head and grinned in amusement, "he is still a very young man, remember? And most boys cannot resist an adventure, especially one that might yield real treasure."

"He is going to get himself killed," sighed the confused Pegassi.

Bayard laughed, "I never said we were all that smart when it comes to this sort of thing, besides it adds to the thrill of the adventure."

Erian shook his head, "humans!"

They watched the boy vanish over the side of the cliff as he carefully made his way to the bottom of the chasm wherein he had seen the flash of sunlight on some shiny object far below. Erian reared, and with one sweep of his great wings, they found themselves now in the bottom of the ravine looking up as Ithril cautiously made his way down. A few bones and a fractured human skull lay strewn about, the unfortunate's dagger lay flashing in the sun; it was this that had attracted Ithril's attention.

Erian shook his head in wonder, "he is risking his life for that?" Bayard said nothing but watched thoughtfully as the boy made his final descent into the bottom of the chasm.

Ithril glanced at the bones with some trepidation, then his eyes fell upon his quarry. His countenance fell to find all his effort exerted for the sake of a rusting belt knife, and he felt something like a grave robber as he picked up the discarded weapon and made a cursory study of the object. He dropped it in surprise, drew forth his own specimen, and then retrieved the former for comparison.

Erian cocked his head in confusion, "what can be so fascinating about a rusty knife?"

Bayard smiled slightly in knowing, "that blade will look very familiar, as they were made by the same man. The only difference is probably the initial engraved on the hilt."

Erian turned a great eye on his rider, "and how would you know that?"

Bayard's smile deepened, "because that was my knife and it was forged by the same village smith that wrought Ithril's."

In the meantime, Ithril had also made this discovery and stared about him in horrified wonder. The knife had obviously belonged to Bayard and the bones lying haphazardly about were also undoubtedly his, but how could that be when Ithril was certain the boy had perished many long miles to the south?

"How?" asked the boy of the air.

"How indeed?" came the mocking reply. In his surprise, Ithril dropped both knives as he stepped back in alarm, not that either would have availed him against a Dreadlord. Tyne continued to mock his brother, "is this how you would end too? Would you have your bones scattered by scavengers and gnawed by rodents as you lie unburied and unmourned, or would you rather not taste of death at all and find life and power unending?"

"Is your wretched existence truly life Tyne or a living death?" asked Bayard, as he stood with sword drawn between the Dreadlord and his prey.

"Be gone fell ghost!" scowled Tyne, as he found himself sundered from his quarry, "He is mine!"

Bayard snorted a laugh, "dream on. He may choose his own end. As did each of us, as must all men. Back away and we need not fight."

Tyne drew his own sword and snarled, "you will do nothing but delay me for a moment and then I will again have the boy within my clutches."

Bayard rolled his eyes at Tyne's dramatics and then leapt upon his old friend. Ithril's legs had given way beneath him in shock as he watched the two tangle for a moment before Tyne took Bayard's blade in the chest and vanished with a horrid wail and a gust of smoke, leaving only Bayard and the terrified Ithril in the little valley. Bayard sheathed his blade and gave the flabbergasted boy a full minute to regain the use of his wits and his tongue. Finally Ithril stammered, "you are...were...must be...dead..."

"Yes," said Bayard simply, "but that does not mean my usefulness to the Master has ceased. Nor will yours." There was no reply, for the boy had fainted dead away.

Erian eyed his friend in amusement, "you certainly have a way with mortals."

Bayard shook his head but said nothing as he hefted the prone form aback Erian and mounted himself. In a moment they had returned to the top of the cliff where the whole adventure had begun; Ithril began to stir as they deposited him on the sward. He sat up and rubbed his temples, saying, "this has all been one ridiculous dream has it not?"

Bayard grinned, leapt aback Erian, and said, before the pair vanished, "it will only get stranger."

Ithril gaped about him but he was alone and could only scratch his head in amazement. He crawled to the edge of the precipice and stared down into its depths; he caught the flash of sunlight on two knives now instead of just one. He sat back and sighed, the amount of rust on that blade and the state of the bones told him that it had been some time since their former owner had fallen into the chasm and breathed his last. They had been there months, if not a year before his own strange adventures began, which must mean that he had not seen the true end of Bayard; the boy had been slain well before that for he certainly was no ghost or rotting corpse upon this meeting. Hope stirred in Ithril's heart as he began to understand that though this adventure was sure to claim his life, it would not be the end of his adventures. He shuddered to think what might have come of him had he fallen into his brother's clutches. A true and honest death was much to be preferred over his brother's current state, no matter what power and advantages came with it. He stood and almost eagerly continued his journey higher into the Mountains.

"How far will he get?" asked Bayard of Ryan.

The Messenger shook his head, "only the Master knows. I will keep an eye on him. You four have other business to be about."

Bayard shared a curious grin with Jaden, before they both mounted and headed into the dense forest that carpeted the slopes of the surrounding mountains. The two Messengers had appeared on the scene the moment Bayard vanished from Ithril's perception, though not from that point in space and time.

Sebiki, Jaden's mare said, "this shall be a rather strange mission."

Erian shook his head, "all must hear the Truth, even the Elves."

The mare blew out her nostrils, "but they know the Truth! They lived it! And they abandoned it to seek their own way."

Erian pinned his ears back, "so did I and yet I repented. They too shall have that chance."

Sebiki sighed, "I had forgotten that was possible."

Bayard grinned, "of all of us, you are the only one who has never had to live with the realities of rebellion and death."

She nodded, "such are merely theories and legends to my people, save Erian, who has lived them. I will have much to learn upon the subject. I only hope it has a happy ending."

Erian shook his head, "for a few it might, but they have lived with pride and bitterness so long I fear nothing we can say will change their stubborn hearts."

Jaden asked, "I did not think the elves were that fond of mortal men."

Bayard shook his head, "they are not. One of their arrows lies with my bones at the base of the cliff we just vacated."

Erian snorted a laugh, "then it is a very good thing that neither of you are mortal men, but I do not think they will be any happier to see two of their old countrymen ere they vacated their first home."

Sebiki asked, "then how are we to gain their attention that we might tell what we must if they abhor the very thought of us?"

Bayard said stiffly, "we will have no trouble gaining their attention."

His tone warned the others that they were no longer alone in the tangled woodland; they could see a dozen or more lithe, humanoid creatures moving and whispering among the undergrowth. As one, the elves stepped out of their concealment and challenged these intruders into their solitude. The captain of the group snarled, "what do you want? Never have strangers penetrated so deeply into our territory, thus defiling our land by their mere presence. Speak fools, ere the ability is permanently taken from you!" Unlike Ithril, whose mortal eyes could not see certain things beyond mortal gaze, these elves could see beyond Time and thus the Messengers could not conceal their presence from them, but their true identity remained hidden as all they saw were two men on drab horses.

Bayard said, "we have been sent to speak to your King and all your folk upon a most important matter."

The Captain snorted, "what of importance can a mere child of men have to impart to the least of our folk? You fool! You have ridden to your death and by it shall our land be cleansed of your desecration."

Jaden shook his head, "we are merely messengers but our message has a voice and import far beyond the comprehension of any wretched mortal creature. Hear our tale and then we shall trouble you no more."

The captain scoffed, "and what fool thinks himself great enough that he dares send word to the elves?"

Erian said, "we come at the behest of the Master Himself. You might as well hear what we have to say else you will never be rid of us."

The captain and his men were startled at the voice of the seeming horse; his confusion soon turned to anger as he said, "you speak beast, what then are you? Since you are no mere horse as your appearance declares." Erian reared, pawed the air, and spread his wings as the glory of their Master engulfed them and radiated off of them. For a moment the elves were stunned into silence but the captain soon spat, "a Pegassi! Your wretched alliance with Men was one of the reasons we left in the first place!"

Bayard grinned, "then you know full well who and what we are and the quickest way to be rid of us is to allow us to speak our part then we shall leave you in peace."

"Very well," snarled the captain, "but the King has yet to speak upon this matter."

Reluctantly the elves led them to their city hidden deep within the fastness of the forest, wherein the King and all his folk were not amused in the least to see such pathetic creatures, but knowing resistance was futile, they pretended to listen that they might hurry the intruders on their way. The Messengers held forth and found themselves very nearly pushed out of the city the moment they finished speaking. Erian shook his head in disgust, "that seemed a complete waste of time!"

A familiar voice squawked overhead, "and what is Time to you, My dear Pegassi? And how do you know your words have truly been in vain?" The four bowed as the Magpie vanished into the forest and then shared a joyful gaze before vanishing upon their next errand.

Ithril picked his way carefully through the rocky maze of boulders and stunted trees and nameless weeds. It was a grim part of the mountains he had entered and it appeared that his surroundings would only grow worse as he ascended. He sighed, knowing the legend that even the air itself turned against mortal men if they climbed too high, he almost wished it all to be over. He stumbled in weariness, thirst, and hunger; he was lonely beyond anything he had ever known before. How had he ever thought this would be a good idea? Finally he sat down upon the nearest rock and put his head in his hands; what was the point? Suddenly he felt curious eyes upon himself and turned to look at what dread thing had finally found him; he flinched to see a face that seemed of an age with himself but the flaxen hair and pointed ears told him that this was no wandering boy, but one of the dreaded elves that had no love of mortal men. In his weakened state, he did the only sensible thing he could and fainted once more.

Aboril looked down in dismay at the prone young man, he had not meant to frighten the poor creature. The words of the strange Messengers had stirred his heart and he meant to return to the lands forsaken by his parents, but no one had wanted to come with him. When his elders discovered his thoughts he was very nearly banished. So alone he ascended the slope, seeking that which lurked upon the far side, but growing very lonely he was delighted to find another sapient creature among the barren and rocky wasteland in which he now found himself.

He managed to rouse the boy with a little water from his bottle and as Ithril awoke, he was quite surprised to find gentle eyes looking into his own. He was quite certain he should be dead or imprisoned at this point; finally, curiosity forced him to speak, the two quickly exchanged stories and unanimously agreed to seek the other side of the mountains together. Aboril's food did much to hearten and strengthen the weakened Ithril and their mutual companionship greatly encouraged them both. For several days they climbed higher until Ithril found breathing difficult and most growing things had been left far behind.

Ithril sat down on a rock, panting and said, "I cannot go much further else I shall lose my breath entirely."

Aboril's answer was lost in vile laughter as Tyne once again ruined his brother's day by his mere presence. He had little interest in the boy at this point, save some vague notions of revenge, but his master had sent him in pursuit of the renegade elf, for it would be quite a triumph to subvert one such of that recalcitrant people to the Dark One's yoke. Tyne launched a spear at his winded brother and pinned him to the boulder against which he had been leaning; his punctured lung made it all the more difficult to breath as he gaped like a landed fish. Aboril stood in horror, frozen between running to aid his wounded friend or fleeing for his life from this apparition that he knew to his core was after him. The choice was taken from him as there came a brilliant light, the rush of wings, and strong arms grasped him.

Said Jaden, as he swooped to the rescue aback Sebiki, "I will bear you over the mountains lad, if that is still your goal?" Aboril nodded dumbly, desperately wanting to help his friend. Jaden said quietly, "there is nothing you can do for your friend lad. You could only end in the grasp of the Evil One." Aboril sighed heavily but allowed himself to be borne to safety with a heavy heart, which was soon forgotten as his eyes fell upon the home he had never known.

Bayard stood over the gasping Ithril with sword drawn, as Jaden stooped upon the elf and bore him safely away. Tyne howled in absolute fury and fell upon his perennial foe with a vengeance and soon overwhelmed Bayard, banishing him back to the Sea. The last thing the gaping Ithril saw was Tyne leaning over him with fury burning deep in his eyes, finally he lost his fight for air and his mortal struggles were at an end. Tyne sighed deeply, dreading what his terrible master would do when his failure was discovered. He turned his dread beast and sought long until he found one of Aboril's kin abroad in the open. The wretched creature was easily taken and Tyne bore him South to see if he might not somehow salvage his life with this alternative hostage.

Ithril gazed about him in wonder, feeling as if his adventures had been far too easy if this was what lay at journey's end. His heart yearned to go oversea, but he also felt he yet had something to accomplish on the other side of the mountains. He hoped Aboril had not been too lonely after the loss of his companion. What did an elf do if ever they crossed the mountains?

"The same thing that men may choose when they do likewise, save we need not taste of death to do it," said a familiar voice, now tinged with unspeakable joy. Ithril turned about in wonder and slight amusement, knowing now that he must have spoken aloud. Even more wonderful to Ithril was the sight of the captain and Bayard as they welcomed the newest recruits into the Messengers. They exchanged greetings and introductions all around before the two were completely overwhelmed in joy and awe as a pair of Pegassi alighted on the beach. Now properly horsed, Jaden paired up with the elf and Bayard took charge of Ithril and all four vanished, leaving the eternal beach to itself.

"This looks like...!" Ithril gasped in amazement, prematurely ending his speech.

"Yes," said Bayard quietly, "we have come home, though it can no longer be that to us."

Ithril grinned, "you will have to lead as I have no idea what I am doing."

Bayard returned the smile, "neither do I. It seems one is always learning as you go in this business."

Erian cocked his head, "does that not always keep it interesting?"

The Messengers laughed, "that it certainly does."

Ithril sobered, "will they know us?"

Bayard nodded grimly, "it will not be easy telling your parents what has come of Tyne."

Ithril nodded gravely but then smiled, "nor easy telling them we have not come home to plow fields, though I think a Pegassi might make short work of it."

Erian snorted, "not quite the work to which our Master has destined us I think."

"No," said Bayard with a grin, "but an interesting concept nonetheless. That might very well have been your fate my dear Pegassi had you not returned willingly to our Master."

Erian shivered in horror at the thought, but could not answer, for a woman had noticed the two strangers on the edge of the village and was quickly approaching. By her speed, it must be Helma, the town gossip, for only their mothers would have reason to approach them with such haste and they were too far away to be recognized. She drew in a sharp breath as she recognized the missing boys, and regaining some composure she crossed her arms and scolded, "now where have you two been all this time? And where is that other boy that ran off with you? Most unwise that, but I guess you are home now. What your parents will think! We all thought you dead or worse..."

She carried on for a full five minutes half scolding, half eager to discuss this bit of news with all and sundry. She seemed oblivious to the Pegassi, who shook their heads in amusement, then vanished with one sweep of their great wings, leaving the boys to the mercy of Helma. She continued to rattle on, but Bayard began moving towards the center of the village, forcing her to walk as she blathered; Ithril followed in silent amusement, exchanging a knowing grin with his friend. To think they had held this woman and her tongue in greatest dread, never knowing what new tale of mischief might reach their respective mother's ears!

Now her prattle seemed quaint, almost amusing, and brought something of nostalgia with it, a sense of grateful remembrance of things that could no longer be, like the last scent of a fading rose at the very end of summer. As they made their way into the village, a small crowd gathered as the residents left their current task to gape at the wonder of strangers in the village, perhaps hoping to be spared Helma's view of things in witnessing the momentous event themselves. There were several gasps as the boys were recognized and people went running to alert the entire town, most especially the kin of the returned wanderers.

Within minutes, the village green was filled with amazed and eager villagers, hoping for some explanation as to their disappearance and return, foremost among them were the parents of the missing boys. There were many eager greetings but Ithril's mother seemed troubled as she asked her late son, "where is your brother?"

Before the boy could answer, a harsh voice grated, "that is none of your concern woman. Now step aside and leave these wretches to me." The woman turned white and fainted dead away upon sighting the speaker. The villagers drew back in horror as a Dreadlord, not Tyne, stood forth and grabbed each of the boys by their throats, saying, "you two will come with me." He glared around at the remainder of the villagers and snarled, "there are none others here that interest me. Bring the fools and let us be on our way."

A trembling man in the uniform of the Blackguard motioned for his men to secure the prisoners, which the Dreadlord had flung to the ground like so much refuse. Ithril's eyes were wide with surprise but Bayard wore an amused half smile. They had gone for their swords the moment they sensed the Dreadlord but the weapons were not there, thus there must be some other point to this exercise than simply vanquishing one of their perennial foes. They allowed themselves to be captured and dragged along by the unwitting Blackguard, leaving the terrified villagers to stare after them in horror. The weeping of their mothers smote their ears as they lost their sons anew.

It was not far to the camp of the Blackguard, and as it was late in the day, there they remained for the night. The latest additions to the party were flung into the midst of four other boys, who swiftly jumped aside ere they broke their new comrades' fall. The new captives set themselves upright and stared after their retreating captors in astonishment.

"Welcome to the bitterest days of your lives," said one of the boys with a regal bearing, "we are all of us unwilling slaves to the Dark Prince."

The Dreadlord's harsh voice snarled, "you had best become willing slaves or you will cease to exist at all. I have met my quota, captain now see that they do not get lost or injured on the road to Golcamoth or I shall hold you responsible."

The captain stuttered in terror, "yes, my lord." Satisfied, the monster mounted his hideous beast and vanished from the camp, which sighed in relief at his going. They might be allies but there was no joy on either side in cooperating in such a manner, but so did their dark master bid it and they were all too terrified to gainsay his orders.

The captain turned to the six captive boys and snarled, "go to sleep. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner I will be rid of you." He stormed off, leaving the boys in the charge of the two most junior soldiers in the company.

After the camp quieted into the routine of evening, Bayard felt that the time had come to speak, "what have we become entangled in?"

The only boy that had thus far spoken snapped, "quiet, do you want to get us all in trouble?"

"They should at least know what they are facing Rork," said a timid boy from the furthest corner of their small huddle, "you are no Prince here."

Rork scowled, "no, we are all of us slaves, but that gives you no advantage over the rest of us, just because you have been a slave your entire life."

Ithril gaped, "is this true?"

Peppin, the former slave said, "we come from all walks of life, from Royal Bloodlines to the most meager of men. None knows how or why they pick whom they will, only that the Dreadlords come and choose one or two or none and send them to Golcamoth, from whence they never return, at least not as mortal men, but once you have been so chosen you have no other choice."

Bayard crossed his arms, "there is always a choice."

A snort from outside their little circle made them all to cower for a moment, as one of the young guards joined their conversation, more curious than upset. Said he, "you have no idea what awaits you. They choose whom they will. If you are selected from amongst the Guard it is considered quite an honor, though I myself have no interest in that sort of thing." He shuddered, "and hope never to know quite what that honor entails. But the slave is right. None comes out unchanged. There is but one choice."

Bayard shook his head, "there is always a choice!"

The guard scoffed, "and what would that be my bold little farmer? Have you ever even left your village? I saw your mother weeping as we dragged you away and when you return even she will not recognize you." He shivered again, "but then you will be the one giving me orders."

Ithril asked, "what is he talking about?"

Bayard said grimly, "Golcamoth is where Dreadlords and all such are birthed." They all shuddered at the thought. Continued he, "but we still have a choice."

"And what choice is that? Death?" scoffed the royal hostage.

Bayard looked at his challenger with stern, un-boyish eyes, "that must certainly be better than the living death the Dark One intends. Would you be a miserable slave, doomed for all eternity to utter darkness? These creatures may be powerful but they are wretched to the very core of their being, the Master alone offers true freedom though we buy it with our lives."

A sharp slap across the face silenced the vociferous boy, as the captain snarled, "enough boy! I will have no more heresy from you. I would kill you now save that you must arrive at Golcamoth intact, at least there they can dispose of you properly. You will submit to your rightful master or you will die in agony. Now silence!" He turned dreadful eyes upon the recalcitrant guard, "for your part in this, you too will make the journey as a captive and you shall have your part in those things you wish to avoid."

The guard gasped in terror but was soon stripped of his weapons and armor, bound, and found himself joining his former prisoners. He said quietly to Bayard, "I hope you are right." There was no sleep for any of them that night.

The days that followed were miserable and tedious to the captives, save perhaps for the Messengers, whose physical forms did not suffer from the abuses heaped upon them by their captors and who had an unending hope in their Master. They were roused before dawn, fed an unappetizing gruel, and forced to march all day at the pace set by their mounted captors, only to fall into a dejected sleep after an equally bland supper. Day after day and night after night there was no change in their routine, only in the weather. They marched mercilessly through heat, dust, cold, rain, and wind into the very South of the world.

Civilization gave way to wildlands and eventually even weeds would not grow in the weary lands about them. The sun sweltered overhead by day and the wan moon froze them by night. Dust and rocks were the only things that dwelt in this grey and featureless land. No hill or river broke the dismal plain yet on they marched into the very heart of oblivion. The only bit of joy or interest or hope came in the form of whispered stories and encouragement from the two unflappable Messengers, who often found themselves severely punished by their captors for their temerity. But through their efforts, the hearts of their companions did not break as their masters thought they must.

"Six are hand picked by one of the Dreadlords, the other is a rebellious guard of my own command. I leave them in your keeping and take no more responsibility for them," said the captain as he left his captives in the charge of a stunted, grey-skinned creature with horrible teeth and cruel eyes.

The monster said, "so be it. Any problems with this lot?"

The captain laughed darkly, "those two on the end are not quite as hopeless as might be desired but I am sure you will quickly rectify the situation."

The creature smiled hideously, "that will be my pleasure. You may resume your patrol and we shall deal with these wretches."

The captain and his men retreated hastily from the grim fortress that was Golcamoth even though evening was well advanced. This was no place where mortal men chose to linger, even those in the sway of his Dark Majesty. Bayard had glimpsed many of the Dark One's servants in this place, many to which he could give no name, but none were mortal. It seemed the quaking prisoners were now the only representatives of humanity in this grim place. The Creature (for that was its name) paced before his new victims, "this place will become either your grave or your path to power. Heretics will not be tolerated. Your journey here will seem an enjoyable thing as compared to what is to come until we destroy you or you choose wisely. If you wish to spare yourselves the pain to come, you may submit immediately to our dark master or you may suffer the usual penalties until you come to such a decision." The prisoners cowered in terror.

The Creature went on, "one of you is a traitor and two are heretics. We shall make examples of you immediately unless you are willing to submit this very moment?"

The two Messengers shook their heads grimly but did not drop their gaze; the young soldier wailed in terror and remorse, "I have been a fool, an utter fool!"

The Creature asked, "have you come to your senses then?"

The former guard shook his head, "at last I have seen the Truth. Why could I not see it before? I have been a fool, but no longer. I have made my decision. Proceed as you must."

The Creature grinned vilely, "you are then willing to submit to the Ritual and abandon these foolish mortal ambitions?"

The soldier snorted, "I have no doubt my mortal strivings will soon be over but I will not submit to you or yours. I speak of the True King when I say I have been an ignorant fool. To Him alone will I yield..."

A broad grin lit Bayard's face as the soldier spoke, but it turned to a look of disgust and horror as the boy did not even finish speaking before the Creature was upon him. "Heretics will not be tolerated," said the Creature casually, as it licked the blood from its claws after making short work of the boy, whose mangled remains were being fought over by a Fellhound and a Dreadlord's loathsome mount. The survivors shuddered in disgust, but the Creature gave them little time to process this, as he turned his vicious gaze again upon the two heretics. Continued he, "now what of you? Will you choose the same end?"

"What would you have of us?" said Bayard boldly.

"Have of you? Have of you?" snarled the Creature, "Why I offer you the greatest boon a mortal man can receive! You could become truly powerful! I do not know why people are not lining up outside the fortress demanding this very thing!"

Bayard cocked his head, "then why have you not endured such an ordeal?"

The Creature growled, "I have endured it, and was the most powerful creature known to man yet have been reduced to this wretched state for things beyond my control. It is all the fault of my brother and one I once called friend. If ever I see them again they shall be sorry!"

Bayard and Ithril exchanged a horrified look in realizing this thing was Tyne, who apparently was blinded to their true identities, at least for the moment. Ithril gasped, "why would we want to align ourselves with such a fickle master if your fate could be our own?"

Realizing his terrible blunder, the Creature snarled, "because this is paradise compared to what awaits you should you refuse. Why should our master reward failure? Serve well and you have nothing to fear. Fail and..." He ended in mid-sentence with menace heavy in his voice. "Enough," growled the Creature, "you will all decide now or face a truly terrifying death of my choosing. We will not resort to the myriad tortures usually used to convince the reluctant for I sense this entire batch is corrupted and not worth salvaging. Choose!"

The six remaining boys all exchanged horrified looks, wondering what their end would be but it seemed truly to be upon them. The words of the Messengers had done much to encourage them in the hopeless days of their journey and the words of this Creature did little to sway their newfound faith. Only Rork stood forth and said, "I am not ready to die. I will submit to whatever I must, but spare my life."

The Creature smiled in feigned joy, "a wise decision and you will not only save your life but to it we shall add abundantly. What of your friends?"

Rork shook his head, "they are all heretics my lord, the two on the end the worst of all."

The Creature's smile broadened, "then I shall allow you to end their heresy, for the Ritual requires the shedding of such blood as theirs. These others shall die as I choose."

The terrified captives drew closer together as their fate was decided, but a great and terrible light suddenly drove all such thoughts out of their minds. Ithril and Bayard were the only ones not blinded to the vision as Jaden, Aboril, and the young guard swooped in on their Pegassi and bore the three captives bodily away. The former soldier winked at his comrades yet in chains the moment before his Pegassi vanished with all the others. Ithril and Bayard exchanged a joyous look, but schooled their faces to dismay as the light subsided and all could look about unhindered, only to gape in horror, for three of the captives were gone.

"What is this?" snarled the Creature, "Where is my revenge?" He turned on the three remaining captives and demanded, "what has happened? Were those three mortal boys or of that forsaken sect devoted to the Master?" Rork looked flummoxed and the Messengers kept silent. The Creature roared, "to the altars lest more failure is heaped unwillingly at my door!"

Several things too hideous to describe took up the remaining captives and bore them quickly to the back of the fortress, whose back wall held an opening with no gate which looked out upon Nothing. The Messengers shuddered to sense that complete and utter emptiness, empty save for despair, terror, and grief. The vile minions lay the two Messengers upon one altar while Rork was chained to another.

Bayard cried out, "do not do this! It is not yet too late!"

A slap from the Creature sent him reeling into darkness as Ithril took up the cry, "do not forever doom yourself! That Nothingness without is all that awaits you..." He too lay stunned as the Creature reprimanded Ithril likewise.

The Wraith that had come forth to oversee the proceedings glanced down at the unmoving victims on the altar; he examined the wretched creatures and drew back with a hiss, "this is madness. We cannot proceed. There is something dreadfully wrong with your victims."

Snarled the Creature, "whatever it is I do not care! If all of these fools escape our master's clutches I am doomed. Begin!"

The Wraith adamantly shook its head, "I will have no part in this. You doom yourself."

The Creature sneered, "so be it. So then shall all the glory be mine."

The Wraith shuddered and withdrew to the farthest reaches of the compound. The awful wailing and the terrible silence that followed made the horrid creature grin; he had warned the fool but he had destroyed himself. His previous failure should have earned him banishment into the abyss but their master found it much more amusing to place him in this new wretched position. Even that, now it seemed was doomed to failure. The thing smiled wickedly, where one or two failed, there was always room for advancement for those that succeeded. Those two boys were nothing but Messengers in disguise and forcing them into the Ritual could have nothing but disastrous results. The candidate and all those about him no doubt would end in the abyss and hopefully the victims would destroy themselves in process, but the wretched creatures seemed immune to such things and he knew they would be back. He had tried to warn them. Now how to use this disaster to his advantage?

Bayard and Ithril woke on the Beach with a shudder, half submerged in the miraculous Sea, which washed away their recent, quite unnerving experience. Tyne had tried to involve them in his vile Ritual, unleashing powers and chaos he had no idea how to control. He and his victim were no doubt lost to the abyss, permanently for such a ploy. It had been far from a pleasant experience for all involved.

Bayard stood, saying, "I will be quite happy never to endure that again." They both shivered again in remembrance.

Ithril nodded, "Tyne's spear was pleasant by comparison. How long can such outrages go on?"

"Not much longer," said Jaden, as his Pegassi suddenly appeared on the Beach, "while you two have been exploring the South of the world, much has happened. There has been a Revival."

Bayard frowned, "we were not gone that long."

Jaden grinned, "only fifty years or so. What is Time to us?" The pair exchanged a surprised look but quickly turned back to Jaden, as he continued, "your three freed captives turned out to be quite a boon to our Master's cause. Once free of their terror, they traveled the world telling their tale and whole countries have repented of their ignorance and evil. There is not a soul in all creation that has not heard of the Master! The Whiteguard is the strongest it has ever been, which is a very good thing since Evil is multiplying as well. The End will soon come."

"Actually it is here," said Erian, as he and Ithril's mount appeared and greeted their errant riders. Once the boys were in their saddles, the Pegassi reared and said, "this is no place for a man afoot."

Bayard frowned in incomprehension for a moment, but suddenly the Mountains started to shake and the Sea to roar. Those who dwelt on the Seaward side of the Mountains soon joined the three Messengers on the Beach while the Sea split asunder and allowed all those who dwelt in the Brightlands to come forth. The Sea receded and finally vanished, the Mountains crumbled to minor hills and the Greylands lay open before them. Such a reunion has never been seen before or since, but all the Master's servants found themselves called to that Beach wherever they had been a moment previous and the minions of Evil found themselves gathered together for a final assault on the Master's stronghold, thinking the Mountains had fallen to some plot of the Evil One.

There was a great light around all the Master's servants, but then the Master Himself came forth and His radiance was greater than the combined glory of His servants. The onrushing hoards of darkness simply vanished the moment that light fell upon them. Those poor souls bound neither to the Master or His nemesis fled South in utter terror, never to be seen again. Then the Shadow himself came forth to do what his weaker vassals could not, but the utter dark cannot stand before The Light. A great earthquake shook the whole world and laid it waste. The Abyss itself vanished before that Light to a place none but the Master knows. When the Light abated, what wonders awaited the Master's own cannot be known by mortal mind.

### 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 from 'The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I:'

### Chapter 1

The rain-battered traveler approached the inn on a dark autumn night, a faint glimmer of firelight and the sounds of singing and murmured speech escaped through the open door. A stable boy took the reins of the black mare and led her away into the darkened stable. The man went into the inn, found a secluded corner, and sat down. A serving girl brought him a mug of the local ale, a loaf of bread, and a bowl of indifferent stew. He glanced around the room as he chewed thoughtfully. A few of the locals were glancing his way hopefully. A stranger always meant news, good or bad it was always welcomed in such a distant corner of the world. He finished his meal and caught the eye of one of the more persistent glancers. The man smiled and showed a mouth missing several teeth, but he seemed friendly enough. He walked over and sat down next to the stranger.

"What brings you to a place like this?" asked the local in a drawling slur.

"Just passing through," said the stranger.

"You cannot pass through here to anywhere," laughed the local, "this is as close as you can get to nowhere without falling off the edge of the map." Several heads nodded assent to this obvious statement.

"Let us just say I want to see the world and have an adventure or two before I grow too old and sensible to do aught except walk behind a plow," answered the stranger. Several heads smiled and bobbed with mirth; they had been young once it seemed. The stranger then regaled them with enough news and rumors to satisfy their curiosity. As the night wore on, even the most dedicated drunks gave up and went home, leaving the stranger alone in the common room. The innkeeper offered to show his only guest to his room, but the stranger wanted to check on his horse first. The innkeeper said they had as fine a stable as anyone could want, but he could do as he pleased.

In the stable, the man found the mare. She seemed comfortable enough but he knew it was hardly fitting for her. She snorted in exasperation but seemed to accept her current circumstances, if only because he thought she must. "There, there, old girl," he said smilingly, "we shall not be here long. You have endured far worse and you know it. Do the best you can and I will try to make it up to you. If it is any consolation, my room is not much better than your stall." The mare made a noncommittal sound but seemed satisfied.

"Why are you talking to your horse, sir?" asked the stable boy from the hayloft, "it is not as if she could understand you. Sides, we got the best stable in these parts."

"I am sure you do," laughed the man, thinking that they probably had the only stable in the area. "We have traveled many long miles together and sometimes she is the only one I have to talk to for days on end. You should be sleeping, and not eavesdropping on a poor, wandering man."

"Do not tell my boss!" declared the boy, "this is the only thing I have going for me. If he hears about it, he will turn me out in the cold."

The man grew serious and took a closer look at the boy. He must be around fifteen or sixteen but he was short and thin for his age. Whatever the boy received in exchange for his services, he certainly was not well fed. "Do not worry, I will not say anything to get you in trouble," said the man. The boy seemed to visibly relax. "You do not have any family or friends you can go to?" asked the man.

A look of dismay crossed the boy's face. "My ma tossed me out as soon as I turned sixteen. Said I was old enough to fend for myself. Not that I can blame her. I got seven younger siblings she has got to feed. I do not know who my dad is. The innkeeper lets me sleep in the loft and eat any scraps from supper as long as I take care of the horses," said the boy.

The man's heart was moved for the boy and before he knew what he was saying said, "I might have use for an errand boy. How would you like to come with me? I cannot pay much, but the rations would be better. There are many nights when I must sleep rough, but it cannot be much worse than a hayloft." A grin split the boy's face and he readily agreed.

The man returned to the inn and slept for what was left of the night. As he settled his bill, he told the innkeeper he would be taking the boy with him. The man shrugged his shoulders and grumbled under his breath about good help being hard to find, but said nothing anyone was meant to hear. The man went to the stable to fetch his horse and found the boy waiting with a small sack slung over one shoulder and a large grin on his face. The mare was saddled and ready to go.

"First," said the man, "we need to find you a pony and some proper clothes." They wandered off towards the village and found a scruffy looking pony that the owner was willing to part with for only a small fortune. They also found a set of clothes that fit the boy much better than his current rags. After acquiring a few more essentials, they set off. The mare glanced distastefully back at the pony and the boy and gave the man a significant look. He patted her neck in reassurance and she shook her head in exasperation. The boy noticed none of this. To him, the pony might as well have been a great charger and his new clothes a shining suit of armor. He was off on an adventure and anything could happen. The man wondered what on earth he was to do with his newly acquired companion. The mare snorted, as if to say 'I told you so.'

That night they camped in a small clearing alongside a stream. The boy was exceedingly desperate to please and quickly went about setting up camp and even volunteered to try catching a few fish. He was quite adept as a fisherman, and within an hour had several small trout roasting over a cheery fire. During supper, the boy glanced around for the mare. She was nowhere to be seen. The pony grazed contently, hobbled nearby, but the horse was gone. When questioned about it, the man said she came and went as she pleased and she would be back before dawn. In the morning, they broke camp, and as predicted the mare was ready and waiting. As they broke camp, the man handed the boy a bow and a collection of arrows that he had acquired on their trip to town. The boy glanced at them with a mix of joy and trepidation. The man said, "it might not be a bad idea if you learn the use of a bow as we travel." The boy smiled excitedly, though he had never shot at anything save the occasional rabbit. As they traveled, the boy practiced his archery and proved to have a natural talent. The terrain became steeper and the ground stonier as they headed north and east.

Eventually they came to a small city and within stood a towering castle. The town stood within a high, stonewall and though the gate stood open, guards carefully questioned those trying to enter. Outside the walls, a veritable maze of houses, shops, and inns had grown up over the ensuing centuries, apparently the population had well outgrown the original confines of the city. As man and boy approached the gate, the guards glanced at the man, gave a questioning look at the boy, and then looked again at the man who nodded; they were allowed to pass without further incident. The guards continued to question those waiting to enter, but said nothing to the man; the boy wondered at this. They followed a street that climbed towards the castle. Throughout the city people seemed relatively happy and contentedly went about their work with a gaiety that puzzled the boy. People seemed to simply enjoy the myriad mundanities of life and never once seemed to wonder what it was all about or why things were not better. They approached the outer wall of the castle and found the gate heavily guarded, but the guards only saluted the man as he rode past, glancing questioningly at the boy, but let both pass unhindered.

Immediately inside the gate they entered a courtyard and the boy's heart leapt into his throat. There in full regalia, mounted upon a great horse, sat a Knight of the Order of the Unicorn. He set his heels to his pony's sides, pulled the small dagger from his belt, and with a cry of utter anguish charged at the mighty horse and the man who sat upon it. The charger turned his shoulder towards the approaching pony and hardly seemed to notice as the poor beast bounced off the great shoulder. The mounted man jumped down and in one smooth motion drew his sword and placed his foot upon the chest of the fallen boy. As he drew back to lop the boy's head off, steel met steel. The stranger had leapt into the fray and his sword now held the knight's weapon at bay.

"You will not spill innocent blood in the heart of Astoria," the stranger said quietly. "Put up your blade!" Noticing the guards approaching with bared steel the knight reluctantly complied. "Boy! you will go with the guards and we will discuss this later," said the man. The boy meekly allowed the guards to lead him away but gave a final look of hatred to the man who had just tried to kill him.

"The boy's life belongs to me," sneered the knight.

"His life belongs to no man, but the Master," said the stranger.

"I claim it by right of the Order. Any who lays a hand upon a member of my Order shall surely perish. You are lucky I do not claim yours as well for hindering me," scoffed the knight.

"I do not know why he attacked you, but I shall find out and he will be dealt with according to our laws," said the stranger, "you will not lay a hand on him and he will not bother you again. See to your business and be gone."

"Your laws!" scoffed the knight, "there are no laws, save those of the Order. The laws of mere men such as yourself are nothing but guidelines to keep the peasants in line. True justice is maintained only by the Order. This is not finished." A servant appeared, bowed to the knight, and led him deeper into the castle.

The stranger led the mare quietly to a corner of the courtyard where several servants stood waiting. He removed her harness and baggage, handing them to the waiting servants while another opened a side door and she walked out onto a wide, grassy lawn.

He then made his way to the guardhouse near the gate where the boy sat weeping. As the stranger approached, the boy tried to shrink into the wall against which he sat. The guards left them alone and resumed their posts. "Well?" asked the stranger.

"He..he...he was one of that awful group of men...that...that...defiled my mother," finished the boy. "She was but a girl of sixteen and they came riding through the village and proclaimed that they were better than everybody and saw her alone in a meadow with her father's sheep and... Well she got pregnant and everybody said it was her own fault and she had me and no decent man would have her after that and she has got eight kids by as many men and none of them care," the boy sobbed, "I was only trying to avenge my mum."

The man put an arm around the sobbing boy and drew him close. "Do not worry, we will not let him hurt you, but revenge is not the same as justice. If you wish to stay here, you must learn many things, including forgiveness. Your family has suffered greatly under the injustice of the world, but that does not mean you may 'avenge' every grievance you have suffered. You must learn that anger and hatred are not the appropriate way to deal with suffering and wrongs. Forgiveness, mercy, and grace must be foremost in your mind and heart else you will be no different than he and the rest of his Order. Justice has a place, but only after careful thought and contemplation, and it must never be carried out in hatred or anger. Even justice must be done with love. Love meaning you are doing what is best for every person involved, even if it hurts. You must learn these things if you wish to stay here. If you wish for revenge rather than justice, then you may take your pony and some provisions and ride to wherever your fate takes you, but you cannot remain here."

The boy sniffled a bit as he looked up into the gentle eyes of the stranger and said, "I never had a dad, but I hope he would have been like you. I would like to stay if I can. I do not rightly understand everything you have said but I would like to try and learn it, if I must. I do not want to be like that man and his fellows."

"Good," said the stranger, "then I shall take you to meet the Lady." They both stood and together walked back to the courtyard where a servant waited patiently. The servant led them deep into the castle and in a small inner chamber they found a very beautiful yet ancient woman. They both bowed deeply and took seats facing her.

"Welcome home Tristan," she said. "And welcome also young man, but I hope you will not be attacking anyone else within the walls of my keep," she added with a smile. The boy blushed crimson. "You have been away a long time," she continued, "I hope your journey has not been in vain."

"I have learned much, Lady," he said, "though little to cheer the heart."

"And what of the boy?" she asked.

"I am not sure exactly," said the man, "I came across him at an inn some days ago and before I knew what I was saying had asked him to come with me. As far as things go, he is as good as an orphan. At worst, he is far better off here than where he was. Perhaps there is more to it, but it will take greater minds than mine to see what. It just felt right to bring him along."

"Very well," said the Lady, "we shall see what becomes of him in the days to come. Young man, as long as you are here, you will be expected to do as you are told and be respectful of all people, including apparent enemies. You are expected to attend lessons on everything from proper grammar to swordsmanship; you will be assigned a number of chores as well. You will receive room, board, and a small allowance as long as you stay. You may leave at any time, but if you misbehave and do not correct said behavior when called upon it you will be dismissed. Will you stay or go?" The boy stared at her for a few moments and then said he would happily stay, it sounded a much better arrangement than he could find elsewhere, especially the sword part. The Lady smiled and clapped her hands. A servant appeared and led the boy to the room that had been prepared for him. She and Tristan talked long into the night about his journey and the evil tidings in the world.

"When shall I see this Lady of yours?" demanded the Knight.

"You shall see her as soon as may be. You did not send word that you were coming as common courtesy demands so you cannot expect to see her on such short notice. Besides, she is currently occupied with an urgent matter of business," said the patient servant to the man from the Order, "perhaps you would like to go to your room and freshen up or perhaps a bit of supper would please you while you wait?"

The man scoffed at the servant and continued his pacing in the small parlor in which he found himself. No other country or king would dare keep a member of the Order waiting! He could not believe the effrontery of this small kingdom on the border of nowhere. But the time was drawing near when the Order would hold sway over all the kingdoms within their reach. This insignificant Burg and its impertinent Lady would soon feel the yoke of the Order and cower in fear at the merest hint of his wrath. Neither could he believe the temerity of that scruffy stranger in staying his hand when that cur of a boy had dared attack him and justly deserved to have his head separated from his shoulders. Where was the respect and welcome due a man of his standing within the Order? His masters would hear of this and an example must be made that the fear of the Order might be maintained. The servant drew up a chair and prepared for a long night of watching the man pace.

Some time in the small hours of the morning, the wearily pacing man was led into a small chamber in which sat a very old yet regal woman. He had not meant to bow, but something in the sheer presence of the woman summoned respect he never meant to give. He had meant to overpower her with awe and fear and scorn her with his wrath, but he felt like a small boy caught by his mother in some small act of disobedience. The woman smiled as if she knew his mind and with a hand beckoned him to come forward.

"Lady," he began, "I have traveled over many leagues to this forsaken city of yours. The Order of the Unicorn has mandated that every city, province, and kingdom must have a representative of the Order in place to settle minor disputes and to relieve the local authorities of the tedium of maintaining law and order. Only the most important matters need be brought before the local authorities and by doing so, we wish only to serve the common good and those who serve justice and peace."

Instead of hearing him with reverent awe, his statement was greeted with laughter that was dangerously close to giggling. "You have no idea who we are?" asked the Lady, "of old we have been the standard for law and justice and everything peaceful and true. Are we completely forgotten? Is even our legend a secret in these troubled times?"

"I know," said the man in consternation, "that you are a standoffish people and have never hailed king nor lord but have dwelt quietly in your little valley far away from the dwellings of other men. Were you warlike you would soon enough have been dealt with by greater nations, but as you seek only your own ends and this outpost on the edge of forever is of no interest to anyone but yourselves you have been left largely in peace. But the time is coming when no rogue state or city will be allowed to follow its own course. All must unite and fight together the great evil that is brewing in the world. You must unite with the rest of the world under the banner of the Unicorn or you will be cut off and destroyed. We are your only chance of survival."

The old woman seemed lost in thought, "it seems only a few short years ago that we were known in all lands as purveyors of knowledge, wisdom, and justice. Now we must act in secrecy but our presence is no less vibrant in the world, though we have dwindled of late. Our span of years is thrice that or more of other men, but can the years have so swiftly passed us by? We have dwindled not only in number but also in memory and significance. These are grave tidings indeed. We are failing in our quest. We must come out of the shadows and renew our efforts to reach the lost and hopeless! A great evil you say? Yes, a great evil indeed lurks out there, greater than even you can imagine. But the evil I am most concerned with is our laxity of late. We have fallen into myth and decay out of a fear for our own lives. But no more! We must break out of this coffin in which we have entombed ourselves, shake off the dust, and rock the foundations of the world once more!" The man was thoroughly confused as to what the old woman was musing about, but apparently it had her greatly excited. Perhaps she was senile. She seemed to have forgotten he was even there. "Angbar!" she cried as a servant shuffled in, "call a General Assembly immediately! Everyone is to attend, even the newest recruit. Rouse those lazy sluggards from their beds. I do not care if it is not yet dawn."

"Yes Lady," said the confused servant as he bowed and dashed out of the room.

She then directed her hawk-like gaze at her guest and continued, "thank you young man for these tidings that have roused this slumbering old bear into action. As for your offer of maintaining peace and justice within the bounds of my land, I thank you but we have been doing quite well without you for the last few millennia and I think will be doing quite well when your Order has passed out of memory."

"But," started the man, "it is not a request or an offer. It is a mandate by the High Council of the Order of the Unicorn. You must!"

"I must nothing!" laughed the old woman, "I doubt any of your high and mighty council has ever even glimpsed a unicorn. Yet you have the audacity to order around a woman who has seen The Unicorn and received this position with His blessing. Now off with you. Go and tell all your masters how ill-used you have been. Declare war on us if you will. We have heard it all before and survived worse. I have not time to deal with your self-important schemes. I have a rabble to rouse!" With a delighted laugh she sprang from her chair and skipped off like a girl. A servant appeared and the dumbfounded man followed obediently, mounted his waiting horse, and rode off into the grey morning.

### Chapter 2

Tristan had hardly had time to return to his chambers and clean up before the clang of the meeting bell summoned all of the Brethren to a General Assembly. The Lady stood in the middle of the floor of the Great Hall, waiting for all to assemble and quiet to ensue. Silence engulfed the room and the old woman began, "a member of the self-proclaimed Order of the Unicorn appeared before me today offering his protection from the coming evil." Laughter echoed through the Hall. She continued, "of course I sent him packing, but the fact that he comes into the very heart of our land and has no idea who or what we are was worrying enough that I roused all of you from your beds and called this meeting. Apparently, we are all but forgotten in the minds of other men, great or small! What has happened to our mission? We are afraid of what? Death? What hold has death on any of us? It is an honor to die for the cause.

How many are dying because we are afraid to die? I call upon each of you, from the least to the greatest, to put aside your fear and grasp firmly to our purpose and spread the Truth to all people and all lands. Evil is rampant in the world. Despair haunts the steps of the common people. Power, corruption, and greed rule in all lands. Justice and mercy are forgotten. I command you to go forth boldly and proclaim the Truth, and if necessary die in the process. 'Tis better to die doing our duty than to be found safely hiding within these walls as the world perishes around us. I do not mean to face the Master one day and have to explain to Him why we have been caught sleeping. We have each taken an Oath and now I am calling upon you to fulfill it. Secrecy may be needed at times, but now is not the time. Get out there and do your duty. Quit hiding in the shadows and jumping at mice. Go out and shake the foundations of the world as we were created to do. And may the Master ride with you." With that, she withdrew and the crowd broke into an excited uproar.

The Council of Six was shortly thereafter summoned to a meeting with the Lady. As her closest advisors, she needed their insight into how to waken this sleeping giant. "You heard my speech," she stated dryly, "now what?"

The Council consisted of two members of each major sect of the Brethren: the Warriors, the Philosophers, and the Teachers, and were accounted the wisest and most experienced of the Brethren. They debated and discussed late into the morning and as the sun reached its noon peak, they emerged from the chamber tired but firm in their purpose and excited about their plans, as they had not been in years beyond memory. Over the years, the Brethren had fallen into complacency, as had every other corner of civilization. Hopefully, they had not been roused too late to face the utter darkness that again was threatening to consume the world. It had been decided that the Teaching sect would ride forth immediately with as many as could be spared from teaching the students and apprentices, and word would be sent to those already in the field that the time for secrecy was over and they should speak wherever they found an audience or receptive ear.

Perhaps a message of hope in a world of despair would again reach the hearts of the masses as it had in the glory days of Astoria. The Philosopher sect was to send its advisors to all known kings, princes, lords, generals, and leaders. Those already placed were to come out of the shadows and openly advise the rulers of the dangers lurking ahead. The Warrior sect was to openly pursue criminals within the bounds of kingdoms and principalities, as well as maintaining their defense of the Northern borders to keep evil things of the wild from wandering into civilized lands. They were also to advise any ruler that requested it, in the defense of their country from external threats. It was a call joyfully received and enacted by all, for this is what they had been born to do.

Amidst all this commotion the boy felt lost in the confusion. Everyone seemed to be running around preparing for some great event or journey. Horses were saddled. Bags were packed. Supplies were loaded. Goodbyes were said. The boy felt very small and alone amidst the chaos. The frenzy continued well into the evening and the boy felt he had been completely forgotten when a firm hand gripped his shoulder and he looked hopefully up into the eyes of Tristan. He smiled down at the boy and said, "you are not forgotten."

Together they walked into the dining hall for supper. In the chaos of the day, almost a quarter of the population had left on one errand or another and another third was to leave on the morrow. The boy asked what all the fuss was about and the man mentioned something about a stirred anthill. The boy laughed and the man smiled. After they had eaten, they retreated to the boy's small room.

"I have traveled abroad for almost a year," said the man, "so I am allowed a brief respite before my next assignment. But time grows short, evening is falling, and night comes. A great darkness is lurking beyond sight or hearing but it hungers to plunge the world into utter desolation. It was driven back once, long ago. But its malevolence and strength have grown with the years and its time is drawing nigh. We have ever been heralds of that darkness, trying to turn the hearts of men to justice and light, but over the years our power has waned and our messengers have gone unheeded. What you saw today was the rousing of all our strength in one last, great push for Truth. The time is coming when all mortal hearts must decide on whose side they stand."

"On whose side?" asked the boy.

Continued the man, "on the side of darkness, evil, and the Enemy, or on the side of goodness, light, and the Master."

The boy looked askance at the man as if he were sitting with a grown man who truly believed in monsters under the bed. All his life he had heard fairy tales about the Master of All and how he had driven away evil for a time and about the Brethren, men who rode unicorns and spread the Truth and fought evil. But he had never seen anything to suggest that such tales could possibly be true. The man looked down at the boy with a knowing light in his eyes. He understood the boy's doubts.

"You doubt there is any such thing as the Master or the Brethren I think," said the man. The boy looked at the man with awe, as if he could read minds. "I thought that once too," said the man. "As a boy, my mother took ill and died and my father went mad with grief and took his own life. I was left alone without friend, family, or protection in a dark and dangerous world. If I had ever believed in the Master, I then decided that in a world of such pain and injustice there could be no being that is truly love incarnate. I became a petty thief, stealing what I could just to survive. One day I was caught and brought before a magistrate who sentenced me to a prison camp where I would spend the rest of my days quarrying stone. But then a man seated next to the magistrate whispered in his ear. The magistrate turned his gaze upon me and spoke, "this man will take full responsibility for you and spare you the horrors of the quarry, but you must go with him and do as you are told. If you disobey or runaway, you will be tossed into the quarry and there will toil away the rest of your miserable life."

I was taken from that place and brought here where I learned many things. Including, that even in the midst of tragedy and horror, there is still goodness and love and mercy. Evil happens not because the Master is not real or absent but because He has given men the choice of whether to do evil or good and there are those who choose evil. Good survives and love exists because the Master is both. Without Him the world would quickly succumb to darkness. The Master offers us the choice to escape from evil and to fight for good. Here I learned that while tragedy and suffering happen to all, the Master gives us strength, patience, and hope to endure them and through suffering and trials we grow stronger and closer to Him. Here you will learn many useful things, even if you choose not to join us. I will be checking in on you every now and then over the next few weeks, but soon I must leave on another journey and may not see you for some time."

"But I am going with you," said the boy.

"I am sorry," said the man, "but it is forbidden for any to travel with me on such a dangerous mission save another of the Brethren. Tomorrow you may leave and go wherever it is you feel you must, or you can stay and learn for a time and eventually make a decision as to whether to take your Oath and join the Brethren or to leave at a time of your choosing. A servant will wake you early tomorrow and at that time you must decide what to do. Now goodnight and I will see you soon." He blew out the lamp and left the room.

The man checked in frequently with the boy who had decided to stay for at least a time. He was learning much and quite enjoying himself, though some of the history and grammar were not as exciting as the swordplay and riding lessons. He even enjoyed running errands and working in the kitchens or the gardens which were considered a vital part of his training. The boy seemed to be thriving in his new surroundings and for the first time in a long time felt truly happy. Tristan was quite busy in his own right. He had many people with whom he needed to discuss a multitude of issues. He had equipment to mend or replace, and he had some specific things he needed to learn quickly before his next mission. The few weeks of his 'respite' passed very quickly, too quickly for his liking. His next assignment was not one to which he was looking forward, but the Lady had bidden so he would fulfill his mission or die trying.

"I am off tomorrow Pallin," he said to the boy, "I do not know how soon I shall be able to see you again, but I will write when I get the chance. Which I guess will give you a good excuse to practice your reading." The boy did not know whether to laugh or cry and seemed to be doing a bit of both. They embraced one last time and then the man walked off, a tall lonely figure retreating into the night towards an uncertain future.

Early the next morning, Tristan climbed back into the saddle he had vacated far too short a time ago. The mare frisked, eager to be on the road once more; she did not take kindly to a sedentary life. The Lady stood at his stirrup and bid him farewell, "I know this is not something you like doing, but I think you are the best man for the job. Take care of yourself and let me know if you learn anything that may be of use. May the Master ride with you!" With that, she slapped the mare on the rump and the pair galloped off into the darkness.

Galloping in the dark before dawn is a good way to get oneself killed, so he quickly reined in the mare though she slowed only reluctantly and gave him a resentful look over her shoulder as they continued at a fast walk. To be on the road again did hold some excitement for him as well as for the mare, but his destination was far from pleasing. He hated the uncertainty of his latest assignment but it was vital to the Lady and any course of action the Brethren might take in the near future. He enjoyed every moment of the ride to Waymeet, or at least as much as he could with the future looming before him dark and uncertain. The Order of the Unicorn was going to hold a recruiting session there in a few days and he was going to sign up! This had to be the craziest thing he had ever attempted in over a century of impossible quests. But the Lady knew what she was doing so he had to trust her. The mare was not all that excited about it, but she had done crazier things in her life and she was committed to keeping her rider out of as much trouble as she possibly could, someone had to. It still amused her that she was a unicorn pretending to be a horse who might one day pretend to be a unicorn if the Lady's plan was successful. It was certainly a mess but she did enjoy the irony.

They arrived in Waymeet in time for the evening meal at the inn. The inn itself was packed with prospective Order recruits and the best Tristan could do was to bed down in the hayloft. The mare would have had to be tied to a tree because the stable was packed with horses. She was left to find her own shelter for the night, which was much more to her liking than any cramped stall with moldy straw for bedding. Near the edge of town he dismounted, removed her tack which he hid under a handy brush pile, and shouldered the saddlebags. It would arouse too many questions if he was seen to loose his horse into the woods or if anyone saw him carrying around a saddle with no horse to go with it. It was much better that people assumed he had come in on foot; in the throng he would hardly be noticed. He scavenged a hunk of cheese and a bit of stale bread for the evening meal, which was apparently all the inn had left. They were hardly expecting such a crowd. The Order was not in particular favor with the common people, but there were those who saw it as their chance to become rich and powerful, though perhaps not respected by too many people. Men had traveled for over a hundred miles to take part in the trials the following day. Tristan climbed into the loft and tried not to bump any of the half dozen other men trying to sleep in the dusty hay.

The morning dawned crisp and clear as only an autumn morning can. Tristan snuck down to the river and washed the dust from his face and hands. He made a breakfast of cold water and provisions from his saddlebag; he was not about to risk breakfast at the inn after such a dismal supper. When he had eaten and cleaned-up, he found and saddled the mare who had had a much better night than he did; he never knew a man could snore like that, he had met quieter bears. He led the mare out into the meadow that was to host the day's trials; there was already a line of men waiting to register with a rather portly fellow sitting under a striped canopy. He led the mare over to the copse of trees that was the unofficial hitching post. He left her there, though she laid her ears back when he told her to be a good girl and stay put. He got in line and waited for his turn to register.

"Name?" asked the bored looking registrar.

"Tristan," said the man.

"Age?"

"Umm...35, give or take a century," said Tristan. He was one hundred and thirty five but that would be difficult to explain. The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Occupation?"

"Mercenary?" said Tristan.

The registrar looked at him with complete disbelief. "You do not know your own occupation?" he asked.

"I am just not sure how to boil it down into a one word answer," he replied.

"Home?"

"Rune's Ford on the border of the Wilds," said Tristan. Once upon a time, it had actually been his home, but not in well over a century.

"Reasons for joining the Order?"

"I would like to dedicate my life and skills to a worthy cause rather than renting them out to the highest bidder," he said. The registrar raised an eyebrow but did not laugh, though he might have smirked a bit. Tristan was quite proud of that answer; it had taken him the better part of two days to come up with it. The smirk hurt.

"You are number 57, you may proceed to the next station." He took the sheet of paper handed to him by the clerk and walked towards the line of men waiting their turn halfway across the field.

The trials consisted of various physical disciples (archery, riding, fencing, hand-to-hand combat) and a written test that covered everything from basic reading and writing skills to mathematics, history, literature, philosophy, logic, and geography. The applicants were divided into five groups, each of which would rotate through each exercise. His first area would be archery, which simply involved shooting five arrows and receiving a score for how close each one came to the center of the target. The written test was next, but that did not prove too difficult for someone of his background. During the swordplay he faced off with first one and then another of the applicants and then with one of the supervising members of the Order. He did the same with the hand-to-hand combat. The score of each was based on how well the three observing judges thought he excelled in the areas of balance, footing, defense, attack, and overall technique; winning was not so much the goal as showcasing one's skills. The equestrian trial was last. Horses were provided for those without a suitable mount (which was the majority of the recruits who had wandered in on foot or borrowed their father's plow or carthorse). The mare was frisking excitedly as he led her towards the starting point. This session would judge how well he could ride in a variety of situations.

First, the judges examined the mare head to foot to make sure she was sound and also inspected his tack to make sure he was not somehow planning to cheat. She put up with the inspection as best she could, but her tail swished in obvious irritation and she rolled her eyes dramatically as each foot was lifted and inspected. Once she had passed inspection, he was given the signal to begin. The trial would be timed and points given or taken for how well he responded to the variety of obstacles along the way. The first part was simply a gallop across the meadow to see if he could keep his seat at full speed. On the far side of the field he entered a small wooded area that climbed steeply uphill and then down along a trail that snaked through overhanging branches and fallen logs. Then he had to swim his mount across a river flowing swift and cold. The final leg brought him back through the meadow where a dead snake on a string pulled by a hidden handler moved across the path and was meant to test his ability to handle a panicked horse. The mare simply snorted with disgust at the dead reptile and quickly finished the course.

If they miraculously got through all the recruits today they would still have to tabulate everyone's score, which could take days. Not everyone who applied to join the Order was accepted. They wanted the most intelligent and skilled individuals they could lay hands on. Some of the unskilled recruits that showed obvious promise either in the physical and/or the mental disciplines would be taken under consideration for further training depending on the current needs of the Order. Those who excelled at both or either would quickly be snatched up and put into a rigorous training program and would soon be on their way to becoming active members of the organization. Now all they had to do was wait.

As it turned out, they were able to finish by nightfall, though just barely. The participants were tired, but exhilarated and no one could sleep because of their excitement so the innkeeper rolled out several kegs of the local ale and brought out what food he had left and a celebration was soon underway. A few of the men even broke out their instruments and started to play, which tempted some of the locals to come out and join the fray, and very soon a full-fledged dance was underway in the meadow. A bonfire was lit nearby just to enliven things and a good time was had by all. Tristan was content to sit on the edge of the woods and watch the goings-on with a mug of ale and a hunk of bread. The mare grazed contentedly nearby. A couple of would-be Knights wandered in his direction and sat down.

"Why are you not joining the party?" asked a short freckled man.

"This may be all you get out of this whole thing," laughed the other, a tall bearded fellow.

"I am content just to watch," said Tristan.

"Too bad," said freckles, "some of the local girls are not too bad looking."

"At least in the dark," laughed his friend. "

If I was interested in girls I would not be trying out for the Order," said Tristan.

"No fun at all is he Otis?" said the freckled man to his friend.

"No he aren't," said Otis.

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Tristan.

"You seemed to do fairly well on all the tests," said freckles more conversationally.

"Fair enough I suppose," said Tristan, "we will know tomorrow I hope."

Otis shrugged noncommittally and freckles nodded, then both headed back to the party. Tristan watched them go and wondered if either would make it in, Otis at least probably had not passed the written test.

Sample Chapter from 'Captain of Shadow:'

### Chapter 1:

Prince Vayel sat his horse and smiled broadly as he surveyed the wide green land that spread out in all its bounteous splendor before him, for one day, all of this would be his. Sighing contentedly, he turned his horse and carefully made his way down the precarious trail that led to the ridge from which he had just surveyed the realm of Adora, of which his father was King and he the crown Prince. His heart, buoyant with the immortal joy of unspoiled youth and the hope of a bright future before him, he kicked his gelding to a cantor and turned towards home. He had not gone far when the baying of hounds, the thunder of hooves, and the strident cry of a hunting horn broke the spell. Wishing rather to gallop all the way home with none the wiser, he dutifully reined in his horse and allowed the hunting party to catch up, not surprised to see his cousin Flinn at the very heart of the mayhem, and from the way he swayed in his saddle and laughed insipidly at the least provocation, he was drunk as well, another fact that was far from surprising.

"Well, well," giggled the noble youth, "if it isn't my uptight, no nonsense cousin! Finally taking a moment away from all your pressing and vital duties to actually enjoy the day?" He smiled broadly at his companions, who were neither quite so brash nor so thoroughly inebriated as to dare making fun of such a personage as the Crown Prince. Finding no help from that quarter, he returned his attention to his obviously vexed cousin, "aren't you always lecturing me on how much of a waste just such activities are?"

The Prince said quietly, "a quiet ride in the country is a far cry from the spectacles you are wont to indulge in."

"Spectacles!" squawked Flinn with a lopsided smile, "you hear that me lads! I told you we was a sight to behold and here's one as agrees with me no end!" He hiccupped and was lost for a moment in mirth at some private joke, then sobering slightly, he saluted flamboyantly and said in parting, "let us not detain you then, my good sir, for we have more spectacle...spectaclating...spectulating....to do!" He laid in his heels and the entire company had soon vanished amidst the woodland shadows.

Vayel shook his head sadly and continued his journey home, wondering what would come of such a dissolute lad; he had so much potential but squandered it on vain entertainments and drowned it in drink. But the world was bright about him, as was the future before him, and even his cousin's obnoxious insouciance could not long spoil his mood. With a lighter heart, he continued on his way. His horse snorted suddenly, stopping of his own accord, ears pricked and looking uneasily up the path. Vayel frowned in consternation, but slid from his saddle, hand on his sword hilt, but drawn inexorably in the direction of whatever it was that had discomfited the horse. He sighed in wonder, his hand falling away from his weapon even as he dropped to his knees in awe and no little fear.

"Walk with me, child," came the gentle voice. The boy was on his feet in a moment and walking silently beside the Great Unicorn, as He continued, "you are blessed with much." The boy nodded and He continued, "and you find great joy and contentment therein." The boy smiled wanly, wondering where his Master was going with this particular line of thought. Suddenly the Unicorn stopped and turned to look upon the boy, who dropped to his knees in sudden, dreadful anticipation. "What if you were to lose it all?" came the awful question. The boy shuddered and He continued, "your beloved father, your reputation, the crown, even your life?" The boy's eyes were wide with terror, but He had not finished, "and all for the sake of one whose actions you despise above all else?"

Vayel shuddered, studying the leaf litter for a moment, and then glanced up uneasily into those fathomless eyes; he gasped in wonder and dread at the love and sorrow written therein even as his gaze fell upon the ever bleeding wound in His side, said he in a barely audible whisper, but had he said nothing at all, still He would have heard it, said the boy, "if it must be so, I will endure what I must, as You have endured far worse for my sake and that of all mankind." He looked up with pleading eyes, "does this mean there is hope for him? That he will find meaning and purpose at last? That he will use the gifts You have given him for the good of others?"

The Unicorn shook his head sadly, "there are no guarantees child, not where a human will is concerned. He will certainly have every chance of making that choice, but it is his decision alone; I will not force My will upon him."

Vayel sighed heavily, "then it could all be for naught."

"Yes," said the Unicorn sadly, glancing significantly at His own bleeding side, "there are many for whom the ultimate sacrifice is still not sufficient cause to look beyond themselves for purpose, direction, and meaning."

The boy said in dismay, "but if this must be, what of the Kingdom?"

The Unicorn shook His great head, "nay child, that is not your concern. You must accomplish the task that is set before you and trust the rest to Me. I work all things together for good, though mortal minds cannot fathom it at the time, or even in long years afterward. It will one day make sense, but for now, you must have faith."

The boy looked up to ask another question, but it died on his lips, for the Unicorn was gone. He stood slowly, his boyish enthusiasm forgotten, as if he were suddenly a very old man looking upon a looming winter that would never again yield to Spring's bright caress, but a strange determination and courage had risen in his heart, knowing he must face the unthinkable yet knowing somehow, despite everything, in the end he would triumph, or rather his Master would, and in that, he took great comfort. He returned to his horse, climbed into the saddle, and set off at a thoughtful walk.

"Oh, Highness!" came the aggrieved voice as Vayel rode into the courtyard of the castle, "you have returned at last! The unthinkable has happened and we feared you too had somehow been caught up in this disaster, for your father the King," the Steward stopped to take a deep, steadying breath before continuing, "your father is dead."

The Prince's eyes were wide and he nearly fell from his saddle in shock, though he had had warning of that which was to come, for he loved his father dearly; he was a great and gracious King, unrivaled in the history of Adora yet also the best of fathers, at least in Vayel's opinion. He bowed his head, offering up a hasty prayer for strength, and then shakily slid from his horse, said he quietly, "what happened?"

The Steward shook his head gravely, "we do not know. He was in the best of spirits this morning, attending to his duties with his usual vigor, but after the noon meal, he withdrew to his chambers, begging illness. When his valet went to waken him some hours later, he found him dead in his bed. You too were missing at the time and near panic set in, but your uncle, the King's brother, gravely called us all to order and said he would personally investigate the matter and that a patrol should be sent out to find you with all haste. We have been anxiously watching and waiting ever since."

Vayel shook his head, "these are grave tidings indeed, sir. What is to come of the Crown? I am not yet old enough, according to our laws, to ascend the throne?"

The Steward said rather hesitantly, "your uncle shall reign in your stead, until you are of age, and then it shall pass to you."

"Very well," said Vayel slowly, "could it have been murder?"

The Steward's eyes widened and he glanced anxiously at the various occupants of the courtyard as Vayel suddenly understood that he should not have spoken such aloud in a public venue, for there would be rumors enough without him adding fuel to the fire. Said the Steward quietly, "we know little thus far."

Vayel brightened marginally, "what of my father's Advisor from Astoria? Certainly his wisdom would be of great value in this crisis."

The Steward shook his head, "we cannot find him. He vanished even more precipitously than you, at least none have seen him leave the castle proper, whereas a few guards and servants knew you were off riding in the woods. It is all very disturbing and mysterious."

"Of a certainty," said the Prince with a frown, "I must speak to my uncle."

The Steward shook his head, "it is not to be, Sire. He wished to be apprised of your safe return but said he would be far too busy to speak with you this day, but he promised to summon you for an audience the first chance thereafter."

"So there is nothing for me to do? No service I could render?" asked Vayel in growing dismay, at least if he were busy about some needful task, perhaps the dreadful ache growing in his heart would not be near so noticeable.

The Steward said morosely, "I fear not Highness, save to mourn the loss of so great a man."

And there was nothing to be done, at least by the Crown Prince, for the next three days thereafter, though the rest of the palace population was fairly busy with funeral preparations and the like. His uncle's investigation had turned up nothing, neither had the various doctors and apothecaries been able to discern the cause of death, so in due course, the King was buried and still the Regent had not spoken with his nephew, who could do naught but wander the corridors aimlessly or sit for hours on end in the library, a book forgotten in his lap. Still the King's Advisor did not appear, and the boy felt utterly alone and forgotten; worse, he knew this was only the beginning of terrible things to come. His cousin on the other hand, went his way as blithely as ever, thoroughly enjoying the festivities and chaos surrounding a royal funeral but otherwise oblivious to the grievous blow that had been dealt to both the Kingdom as a whole and Vayel in particular.

As he sat in his chair in the abandoned library the night after the burial, gazing morosely into the fire, Vayel wondered if he had the heart to endure what was to come. It all seemed so surreal and courageous, like something in one of the old tales, at least when in the Master's very presence, but now that he was in the midst of it, he felt so small and frail and alone. But he was not alone, and as he suddenly looked upon that awful Presence, he knew nothing more or perhaps was nothing more.

He blinked groggily back to consciousness and glanced about him in dismay, wondering where he was. It was completely dark, he stood suddenly and fell just as precipitously with a cry of pain, tentatively reaching a hand up to feel that on which he had nearly cracked his skull. He felt a slanting roof of weathered wood and then sneezed violently, as his movements stirred up the dusty hay on which he lay. With a grim smile, he had a very good idea where he was, but why and how? Carefully, he crawled out of the forgotten loft, wherein he and his cousin had spent many happy hours as children, their parents being blissfully unaware of their unseemly antics, but so familiar was the hayloft in the old stable that he easily found his way down, even in the utter dark. Shakily, he set both his feet on the ground and leant heavily against the rough hewn and partially rotten wood of the walls. He took a deep breath and a small step, repeating the process until he stood at last in the courtyard under all the stars of heaven. He marveled at their stark beauty for a moment before the world was all darkness once more.

He awoke with a headache, not induced solely by his encounter with the stable roof, and groaned as he rolled into a sitting position. He opened his eyes and stared directly into the horrified face of one of his father's guardsmen. He frowned and glanced about, wondering what could precipitate the man's look of utter disgust and shock. Vayel's face was suddenly a perfect imitation of the guard's, for the missing man from Astoria lay in a pool of his own blood, his throat cut, not an arm's length from the horrified boy, and only then did Vayel realize he clutched a bloody dagger in his own hand. The blackness was immediately upon him once more.

He awoke to find a half dozen of his father's guards gathered around him, their captain splashing cold water on the boy's face, trying to rouse him from his faint. As he blinked back to the horrifying reality that was his life at that moment, the guard asked, "what happened here?" The boy shook his head, unable to speak in shock and horror and confusion; the man had been a friend and mentor, to lose him so soon after his father's death only added salt to the gaping wound that was his heart. "I'm afraid we'll have to take this matter to the Regent immediately, Sire," said the uneasy guardsman, "I hope you won't make a fuss?"

The boy gaped, they thought he was responsible for this despicable deed! He sighed heavily and shook his head morosely, allowing them to lift him to his feet and get him settled on a horse. They likewise loaded up the dead man and returned to the castle as fast as their prisoner and grim burden would allow.

The Regent paced before them in dismay, occasionally glancing at Vayel in horror and disgust, "where have we failed you? How could you have gone so wrong?"

Vayel frowned, speaking at last, "of what do you speak, Sir?"

His uncle spitted him with a furious glare, "blood magic! Do not dare feign ignorance! You will be the ruin of the entire Kingdom, a Kingdom which would have been rightfully yours had you but waited for your father to die naturally, rather than viciously cutting short his life with your vile sorcery!"

Vayel gaped, "how can you make such an accusation, Sir?"

The Regent shook his head, in grave disappointment, "you are covered in the evidence. You were caught in the very act. How else would you explain your father's mysterious death?"

Vayel's shoulders slumped as he studied the guards, courtiers, and servants standing in the courtyard about him, nodding slowly or exchanging grim, knowing looks with their fellows. He did not know what had happened, but he had no evidence to the contrary, though he knew the accusations were utterly false, he had no way to prove it and it seemed the court had already accepted his uncle's grim view of things. Thus perished his reputation and all hope of ever gaining the crown, all he had left to him was his life, and that too his uncle seemed intent on stripping away as soon as possible.

Said the Regent in grim finality, "the punishment for such grievous crimes can only be death, only thereby may we spare the Kingdom from the Master's incumbent wrath." He smiled slightly in cruel glee, "of course we will have to make it a public execution and a grisly one at that, as befits treason of this magnitude."

Vayel suddenly straightened and glared at his uncle, he might be a dead man, but he would not go quietly to his grave, "I will appeal my case to the Lady of Astoria."

The Regent looked rather surprised at this sudden outburst from the condemned, but shrugged as if it mattered little, "let it be as you wish it, it is your right after all. Flinn!"

The Regent's only child crept out of the crowd of courtiers and quavered, "yes, Sire?"

"You will take this villain to Astoria and see that justice is done," growled the Regent. He turned to the guardsman that had discovered the ghastly scene, "accompany the Prince and the prisoner to Astoria, Captain." With a final glare for Vayel, he turned suddenly on his heel and marched into the castle, leaving all and sundry to gape like stranded fish.

Flinn gave his cousin an irate frown, "just like you to continue ruining my fun!"

Vayel gaped, "my father has just died mysteriously and I am condemned to death for the murder of a man I held almost as dear and all you can do is grouse about your spoiled pleasantries?"

Flinn shrugged uneasily, "why should I care or be so ill used? It has nothing to do with me!"

Vayel said gravely, "with me and my father out of the way, you are next in line for the crown, thus it involves you deeply, whether you would or not."

Flinn mouthed an astonished 'oh,' and then turned his consternation into a hasty order to begin preparations to leave. The guardsmen and servants scattered in every direction while the courtiers stood off to the side and whispered eagerly amongst themselves. The captain stood beside Flinn, a length of rope in his hands, "shall we bind him, Sire?"

Flinn blanched at both the new title and the responsibilities inherent therein and said anxiously, "do as you think you must, Captain." He stalked off towards the stable, hoping to escape all such entanglements for a few moments, uneasy with so much responsibility so suddenly thrust upon him. Vayel sighed sadly at his cousin's retreating back and then offered his hands to the stymied captain that he might bind them, as he seemed to think necessary.

They were off well before midday, Flinn slouching in his saddle and grumbling under his breath, apparently sulking at the dreadful reality in which he now found himself while Vayel felt a strange sort of peace settle upon him, knowing all would soon be over, one way or another. The guards rode ahead of and behind the cousins, glancing uneasily amongst themselves, unsure what they thought of the entire situation but doing their duty as best they could. Either the former prince was a traitor of the worst sort or justice had been grievously denied him, either way, they were quite discomfited by their predicament and the new prince did nothing to relieve them of their apprehension.

So did the disconsolate little party travel, lost in their own thoughts and misgivings, wondering what would come of the matter when at last the Lady passed judgment. The courtiers watched them ride off with malicious smiles and gloating sneers whilst the townsfolk watched with grim eyes, wondering what was to come of the Kingdom itself in such a circumstance. Vayel was very glad when the woods closed in around them and hid them from curious and speculative eyes. Strangely, Flinn was the one who seemed to be wrestling with the inevitability of the situation rather than the one condemned to death. Hardly a word was spoken between any of them on the entire interminable journey.

At last, Astoria lay before them and all rejoiced at the sight thereof, hoping it would yield answers that weeks of constant worry and contemplation had not. The captain of the guard announced their business at the castle gates, seeing as how the Prince would not or perhaps could not, for he was nearly catatonic as he continued to mull over this disturbing shift in his destiny. The Lady saw them immediately and heard their various stories, at least from Vayel and the guardsman, Flinn took little interest in the proceedings. At last, the Lady withdrew with several of her advisors and said grimly, "the evidence is both condemning yet highly circumstantial! Can we condemn the boy to death as easily as his uncle has done?"

Jared shook his head gravely, "you have not said all, my Lady, nor asked him directly if he committed this grievous crime."

She frowned at him and his seeming ability to read her mind, "I have no choice in the matter; the boy must die, regardless."

Jared nodded, "my thoughts exactly."

Her frown became thoughtful, "there is more to this than I yet realize, isn't there?"

Jared smiled grimly, "far more than any of us can yet comprehend, my Lady."

She nodded, "do what you must." He bowed deeply and they returned to the main audience chamber, those gathered therein impatiently awaiting the verdict. Said she heavily, "I must condemn you to death." The boy bowed his head in simple acceptance while his cousin took the news as if it were his own sentence, slumping dejectedly into a chair and refusing even to look up. She turned to Jared and nodded, "and the sentence will be carried out immediately." The boy nodded and allowed the servant and one of the Brethren to lead him away. Flinn did not even look up as he passed. The guard watched him go with stony contempt and then turned to attend to his aggrieved lord.

They led him to the furthest corner of the dungeons and he knelt with his head over the block as the axe was raised, said a strangely jubilant voice as the axe fell, "this is only the beginning lad." As it found its mark, an awful light filled the grim little room, obliterating all therein. The axe fell to the floor with a sharp clang as the hands that held it vanished along with its intended victim.

### Chapter 2:

"My life is over!" bemoaned Prince Flinn as the captain of his guard approached, concern on his face, the comment causing him to frown slightly in consternation, but the grimace was just as quickly hidden. "Now all hope is lost," said he morosely as Vayel was led away, "I had hoped the Lady would grant him a reprieve, and then we could all go home and things could get back to normal. What am I to do with all this responsibility that has been thrust upon me?"

The captain said cautiously, "it is not my place to either question or advise you Sire, unless you specifically ask me for such, but it would seem to me that this place is ideal for learning just that."

The Prince slumped back into his chair and groaned, "an education?! What fun is there in that?"

The guard suddenly drew back and bowed deeply, causing the Prince to sit up straight and glance in the direction the anxious guard was looking, only to see the Lady herself approaching the distraught Prince. He hastily shot to his feet and offered her a clumsy courtesy, wondering exactly what degree of formality was required from a person of his rank to hers under the prevailing circumstances, Vayel would know, but the fool was probably dead by now, some help he was! She studied him for a very long moment with her far too keen eyes, making Flinn feel a mouse under a hawk's gaze, at last she spoke quietly, "what is happening in Adora, Sire? Might we be of assistance? You seem quite ill at ease yourself, but I suppose such a fate befalling your cousin and uncle in quick succession must be unpleasant indeed."

Unpleasant? For whom, him? He frowned at this thought, he supposed he should feel a little sympathy on their behalf, but he had enough problems of his own to worry about that wasting pity on dead men seemed rather pointless. He said slowly, "I don't know if you can help me or not, for you see, the thing that most troubles me is that now that my father is King, I am heir to the throne and all that responsibility is not something I want. It was quite unfair of my uncle to go and die suddenly and even worse of my cousin to go meddling in things that could get him killed. I don't know what to do!"

The Lady frowned, "it all seems rather suspicious to me. Perhaps I should send one of my servants to investigate these mysterious happenings, and until we know your father isn't involved in anything nefarious, perhaps you had best remain here, Highness. You need not attend classes or formally enroll as a Student if that is not of interest to you, but I would advise that you not venture home until this matter is resolved. Perhaps your cousin was truly the villain behind it all, but I begin to think he was as much a victim as his father and my murdered servant."

Flinn gaped, "but you just sent him to his death! Now you think him innocent? Are you mad? That was my last, best hope of escaping this unendurable fate!" She frowned at his thoughtless words, but he continued unheeding, "but perhaps you are right, I am in desperate need of sanctuary at the moment, yes, sanctuary is just the thing. When's lunch?"

It took all her long years of practicing patience not to throttle the young man before her or to gape openly at his thoughtlessness. Said she as calmly as she could muster, "you may eat as soon as this interview is finished, as to your cousin's fate, that is a matter strictly between himself and the Master and has nothing whatsoever to do with my feelings upon the matter. Welcome to Astoria, your Highness. I will dispatch one of my best agents to your Kingdom immediately that this matter may be rectified as soon as possible. Good day!" She nodded briefly in farewell and hied herself quickly from the room, leaving the guard to exchange a wondering look with the baffled prince. A servant entered soon thereafter to get the boy settled, he followed silently after, too confounded to say anything.

The Regent watched his nephew and his own fool of a son ride off with their escort from a window high up in one of the towers, a malicious smile on his face, at last, he could attend to the business of ruling the Kingdom. He would have enjoyed watching the boy die before the entire Kingdom, but perhaps it was just as well he died quietly in a foreign land, the sooner to be forgotten. As to his own heir, he little cared what came of the fool boy, just as long as he was not bothering his father, not that he really needed an heir as he intended to live forever. Now all he need do was watch for the Lady's agent that would undoubtedly be dispatched to investigate the mysterious happenings in Adora. He did not doubt the boy would die, it had been promised to him, even the Lady of Astoria could not thwart the boy's destiny or the source of such a prophecy. His smile deepened as he turned from the window to get down to the glorious business of actually being King.

Lose everything indeed! The creature studied itself curiously, not in horror as might be expected at such a radical transformation, but calmly and with no little amusement, though it seemed to be wrought entirely of dark mist when once he had been a very Prince of the Realm. But what were mortal Kingdoms to this? The only part of himself, at least that he could see, that was not shadow incarnate was a small silver unicorn glinting with its own light on his right palm. That was the reason he could smile, even when he lacked the features to do so, for it was the Mark of the One to whom he belonged, and never could he be snatched from that great and mighty hand, no matter what strange adventures befell him.

He remembered hearing someone whisper that the adventure was only begun right before that dreadful light was unleashed and then he knew nothing but Light. He remembered that Light, it was the same that had consumed him utterly one fateful night in the library, a Light more glorious than life itself. He glanced down in wonder, his shadowy visage had vanished and his entire being pulsed with that deadly Light. With a thought, he garbed himself again in darkness and frowned, this would never do! It suddenly occurred to him that he was also the source of that all-consuming radiance in the dungeons of Astoria. He must learn to control himself, whatever he was now. For a moment he wondered what had happened to the two men in the dungeons with him, they could not have survived such a display, but then at least one of them knew things were not as they seemed. He smiled eagerly, he was not alone, whatever this new adventure was. Suddenly he felt himself inexplicably dissolving and the Light that wrought his very being threatened to break forth once more, but with a thought, he schooled it to quiescence and allowed himself to evaporate.

He reappeared, still a wraithlike shadow, in a very familiar place. A figure clad in the livery of Adora stood propping the small kitchen gate open and was motioning frantically at him. With another frown, he approached the odd servant and entered the castle proper as the man quickly secured the gate behind him. "This way shadow," growled the man, "my master does not like to be kept waiting." Vayel hissed quietly but refrained from comment as he followed the villainous looking fellow high up into the utmost towers of the keep, higher than he had ever gone before, even as an adventure bent lad of seven exploring the various nooks and crannies of the ancient castle. The minion knocked upon a certain door in a certain way, opened it when bidden to do so, and then motioned that the wraith should enter alone, fleeing the moment he closed the door behind the shadow.

Vayel's uncle turned from his study of the fire and eyed the shadow speculatively, "what took you so long?"

"We come when it suits us," hissed the shadow, not quite sure from whence the words sprang.

"So be it," sighed the Regent, "I have a job for you."

"Obviously," snarled the wraith, "else you would not have sent for me."

"I tire of your insolence, shade," snapped the King, "go to Astoria, find my fool of a son, and either corrupt him or destroy him, I care not which."

"With pleasure," hissed the wraith as it fled out the window, leaving the Regent to his study of the flames. Vayel grinned, it would be a pleasure indeed to try corrupting the hedonistic boy, and if he succeeded, perhaps he would make a proper King after all. He felt himself dissolving again and this time the light did not stir, for there was no panic or unease this time around. His smile deepened, could he be getting used to this strange new occupation?

Vayel reappeared again in the dungeons of Astoria, he just had time to register that fact before he felt a piercing pain in his chest and fell again into darkness. Baye looked at Jared with a raised eyebrow and a quizzical expression on his face as the sword in the servant's hands vanished, "was that necessary?"

Jared grinned broadly, "yes, I had to verify that he could control himself."

Baye smiled reminiscently, remembering his own turn teaching that particular skill to his various apprentices, said he with a thoughtful nod, "it seems he can, but how did he learn that particular skill with none to teach him?"

Jared smiled mysteriously, "perhaps he is of a more thoughtful turn of mind than the rest of you rapscallions that currently comprise the Shadow."

Baye eyed his old friend in some surprise, "what are you not telling me?"

Jared sighed heavily as he knelt beside the prone form, looking up at Baye he said quietly, "it has been a very long time, far too long."

Baye nodded and then smiled sadly, "I understand." He frowned at the boy, "why not choose a replacement from within the Shadow?"

Jared shook his head as he sent a pulse of light into the inert form, "I have no more say in the matter than any of the Brethren do in the selection of a new Lady of Astoria." As the boy stirred and sat up with a groan, Jared stood and took a step back to stand beside Baye.

The boy studied them curiously, a slight, eager smile on his face, said he at last, "can someone please explain what is going on here?"

His elders burst out laughing at his perplexity and eagerness, but Jared quickly gained control of his mirth, though the corners of his mouth kept twitching inexplicably, said he, "it has certainly been a strange time for you no doubt, but at last you will have answers." As the boy gained his feet, the Captain of the Shadow continued wryly, "and I promise not to assault you with any sharp pointy objects, at least for the next few minutes."

Vayel's smile deepened as he caught the Captain's mood, said he, "I would appreciate that." He studied what he could see of himself and asked, "I am myself again?"

Baye grinned, "you have always been yourself, you can never be anything but, but yes, you currently look like the boy you once were."

"Were?" asked Vayel in growing excitement "if I am no longer a boy, what then am I?"

Jared gave his old friend a patient look, "you were and are and ever will be a man, but what he means is that you have become a Shadow, a mortal man no longer, but still a man, save with a few useful talents."

Vayel shook his head, "I little understand."

"I know," said Jared, "your recruitment was not done in the usual manner, but you'll quickly learn and I dare say you won't be disappointed."

Vayel grinned, "so far it has been one strange adventure, but certainly interesting." He frowned at the axe where it lay on the floor, "why all the sharp pointy objects and their use upon my person?"

Jared shrugged, "upon your arrival, I had to verify that you could control the light within you, no matter what, lest you prove a danger to others, and you certainly proved your ability to do just that. As for the Lady's decree to have your head off," he smiled wryly, "none of us thought you guilty of murder or blood magic, but we just knew it had to be done. It wasn't the first time in the history of the Shadow where a man has been executed as a necessary part of his duties." As the boy's consternation deepened, he continued, "and don't ask us why, none of us have an answer, at least not yet. Get used to it, sometimes your adventures and duties will not make a whole lot of sense but you still must be about them."

Vayel nodded slowly, "it will not be the first time, but if the Master has demonstrated anything, it is that I can trust Him, no matter what." He grinned, "He promised me death and heartache and infamy, all of which came to pass, but He has also blessed me in the midst of my sorrow, more than I can even begin to comprehend. What now?"

Jared answered, "you'll be apprenticing with me, which will be a little awkward as I am not an officially recognized member of the Brethren. The servants don't usually take on apprentices, but I think a servant of my standing can have a page at his beck and call."

Vayel smiled at the irony, "I was once the Crown Prince of Adora and now I'm naught but the servant of a servant in Astoria?"

Jared chuckled, "I am the very Captain of the Shadow lad, yet I spend my days as a mere servant, but are we not all servants of the Master?"

"Quite," said Vayel, "but I also have a mission."

"All the better," said Jared, "it will help keep you out of mischief whilst I'm busy elsewhere."

Baye frowned, "isn't he supposed to be dead?"

Jared grinned, "none but the Lady, his cousin, the captain of the Prince's guard, and we know anything of that. I don't think it will pose too much of a problem, besides, he needs to go about as himself if he is to accomplish what he must with his cousin." He eyed the boy's bloody and tattered tunic, "but you'd best do something about your appearance before we can be seen in decent company."

Baye laughed, "I always knew we weren't quite what the social elite would consider proper, no wonder I never get invited to fancy dinner parties."

The boy studied his ruined clothes, concentrated for a moment, and suddenly the blood was gone and the tattered fabric was whole once more. He exchanged an eager look with Jared, who said with a smile, "if only it were that easy to get stains out of the carpet."

Baye rolled his eyes emphatically, "spoken like a true servant!"

Jared gave him a reproving look, but ruined the effect with a smile, "perhaps that shall be your next adventure, sir: removing red wine stains from a white carpet."

Baye grimaced, "I thought Jace was the one who regularly accomplishes the impossible."

Jared smiled wickedly, "I'll keep that in mind."

They left the back room, ghosted through the cellblock, and then ascended the stairs back to the castle proper. As Vayel exited the dungeons, he froze and gasped, "Anne?!"

A young woman stood in the corridor, her eyes wide with surprise and joy as she studied the boy before her, a quizzical smile graced her lips as she said, "I thought never to see you again and here you are running about in a servant's livery?"

Jared gave the boy a knowing smile, "set your friend's heart at ease and find me when you are finished."

The boy bobbed an awkward bow as the elder Shadows meandered off and then turned to face his companion, said he, his face growing warm, "perhaps we should find a place to talk?" She nodded, giving him that smug, knowing smile that had always infuriated and bewitched him all at the same time, and taking his hand, she led him off to the wide, walled in lawn that abutted the courtyard, where they might sit at leisure under the great trees and chat as they would.

Once they were settled, she said demurely, "I followed you. My father has continuously urged me to come to Astoria to study, so I thought this an opportune time to heed him."

Vayel frowned, "he only wanted you to do that so we'd be away from one another, in hopes I'd fall for your eldest sister."

She smiled impishly, "I didn't exactly ask his permission before leaving but rather left a hasty note and hied myself hither as quickly as I could. I arrived just after you did, but was detained at the gate while you were taken immediately to the Lady. The next thing I saw was you accompanying those men through that door. What happened? Now here you are, guised as a servant of all things!"

Vayel smiled sheepishly, "it is a long and strange story," he frowned, "and much of it I cannot tell you, nor would you believe it if I could." He sadly met her gaze, "we cannot be as we once were."

She studied her hands resting in her lap for a moment and then looked up, "I know, I spent the journey here resigning myself to that fact. I was horrified when your uncle...but never mind, I was heartened when you asked that the Lady review your case and followed you here. But even if the Lady has decried you innocent, you can never return and claim the crown, for the people will never accept you after what your uncle said nor is the Regent likely to give up the crown now that he has it. But why become a servant? Rather, why not study what you must and then join the Brethren?"

Vayel smiled warmly at her, "things are rather complicated, Anne, but do not fear that I have made this choice solely out of desperation, I know you don't understand, but I am content with my circumstances, nay rather I am quite eager to see what the future holds." He sobered, "but we cannot leave Adora in the hands of my uncle, he is a murderer and a warlock."

She smiled wryly, "the very things he accused you of being. But who will assume the crown?"

Vayel sighed deeply, "Flinn, at least if we can convince him to do something useful with his life."

Anne giggled at this, "he is not a bad fellow, but getting out of bed in the morning is the most he has ever learned about duty and responsibility."

Vayel said in a conspiratorial whisper, "do you want to help me subvert him?"

She clapped her hands together and said eagerly, "I would love nothing more. Can it be done?"

Vayel smiled scandalously, "he has to make that decision himself, but we'll do everything in our power to encourage him to do just that."

Baye and Jared returned promptly to the Lady's main audience chamber, but she was not there, rather she had withdrawn to a small sitting room where she stood staring out the window, leaning heavily upon the sill. She drew away from the window and turned to face them as they entered, said she heavily, "it is done then?"

Jared smiled, "yes and no." She frowned at him and he clarified, "the boy is a Shadow, Lady, you did not send him to an untimely death, in fact, he still walks the keep in his original likeness." She actually gaped at him, and he shook his head, "why was it necessary? Even I do not know the answer to that, but it was and perhaps time will reveal the reason."

She nodded slowly, feeling as if a great weight had been taken from her shoulders, said she with irony strong in her voice, "now what are your orders pertaining to this particular lad, Captain?"

Jared smiled wryly, "he will actually be my apprentice," he paused both to gather his thoughts and to allow the Lady to absorb the news, before saying, "and eventually my replacement."

She looked at him a bit sadly, "you will Go, then?"

Jared barked a laugh, "come Lady, it is not so grievous a loss as all that, it well may be another hundred years or more, before I actually Go, but I have been at this since the world began!"

"I see your point," said she, "but even with all the grief and trouble you cause me, I will miss you."

Jared bowed, "that is good to know my Lady, for I often fear I am more trouble than I am worth."

She frowned, "how is a servant going to have an apprentice?"

Jared smiled eagerly, "I hope you do not mind, but I have taken him on as my personal page."

She nodded, "that will suffice, at least until the other servants decide they want to have one too."

The Captain grinned wryly, "they won't be able to afford one, not with what you pay them; my minion works for nothing."

She opened her mouth to protest that the servants were paid quite well, but it was certainly not enough to hire their own servants. She closed her mouth and said with a smile, "very well Captain, see to your minion." She turned to Baye, "you had best go see what is happening in Adora." The men bowed and withdrew, talking quietly together while the Lady turned back to her window, her heart lighter by far than when they had entered.

A sample story from 'Over the Hills and Far Away:'

There was an old woman

Lived under a hill,

And if she's not gone

She lives there still.

~Nursery Rhyme~

### Sophie Under the Hill

Her choice of domicile was peculiar, at least to sensibilities distant in time or space, but for all I know it was a rather common phenomenon in that particular place and time, but even if it were not, it suited her and to her mind that was all that mattered, which was as it should be. For you see, she dwelt under a hill and had for as long as local memory could remember, which might as well have been for all eternity as far as most folk were concerned. So it was that this curious old woman, who was apparently never young, acquired a reputation far and wide for not only being rather mysterious, which is what living in any fashion not considered ordinary will gain you, but also for possessing great wisdom, which is the result of living sensibly and being content therein rather than living as your neighbors think you ought and depending solely upon their opinions for your happiness. So it was that her neighbors held her in great awe and even a little fear, at least if an outsider asked them, but amongst themselves they often whispered darkly about the dear lady, with no little of malice and jealously festering beneath their bitter words. For you see, she minded her neighbors not in the least in any matter, preferring to do solely as it pleased her and seeming to thrive thereby which vexed them greatly, for no one should succeed without their input. It was witchery of the vilest sort.

Such an enigmatic and sagacious person held a certain attraction for adventurous youths and questing knights which was not hindered in the least by darker rumors, for who else could offer desperately needed wisdom and advice as such were often seeking? These frequent and unwelcome visitors, at least as the neighbors saw it, only caused further scandal and disquiet in the community, which continued to heighten the dame's infamy and only drew sooth seekers from even more distant climes. These visits drove the neighbors to distraction but the aged lady welcomed each and every visitor as if he were a lost son come home after many years abroad. Though in truth she was neither a worker of terrible magics nor a possessor of knowledge arcane and grim, but what she did have was something far outside the common ken of mortals, and blessed were those who sought her wisdom and received it with a willing heart. She did not whisper in secret with the shades of ancient sages or count her years more numerous than the usual wont of men. So how was it that this near mystical lady came to be a font of wisdom of which the bold and adventurous, the rich and the powerful, oft came to drink?

She was possessed of a great deal of what is wrongly called commonsense, for though quite sensible it is far from common, and thus did many come to visit with the curious lady who dwelt quaintly under hill. She lived quietly, prudently, and contentedly for many a year, much to the annoyance of her neighbors, who could not comprehend such a life and the enjoyment thereof, yet in their self-inflicted misery thought themselves the happier by far but did not understand the source of their own consternation.

So what great advice or sagacious snippets did she give this vast and curious throng that sought her out over the years? What could a woman who lived under a hill in a far flung district know of the world at large or people in particular? This is what all such visitors often asked themselves, but then they had to remember that often what they most sought was to be found in rather strange places, so contented themselves with imbibing a draught of wisdom from this uncanny font. One such adventurer, a peasant lad of the age when he should be finding something useful to do with his life, one day appeared at her door. He knocked boldly, she opened the door with a small, quiet smile that might have been concealing a knowing laugh, and ushered the awkward boy into the cheerful main room of the infamous cottage under hill. His awkwardness vanished as he took the offered chair, munched upon a cookie, and sipped the fresh brewed tea, feeling as if he were sitting at table with his own dear granny. That spritely smile deepened, as if she knew his thoughts, which was very likely as she was rumored to be all knowing, and she asked if she might refill his tea.

He nodded and then began his tale, as she poured, "I need a direction in life, that is why I am come. But of course you knew that already. So what shall I do? My parents wish me to apprentice with the cobbler and marry a nice girl once I have established myself. I want to go adventuring and become a man of wealth and renown, and likely marry a princess, or at least a noble's daughter. What must I do to make my dreams come true?"

Said she with the selfsame smile, "what are these dreams for which you reach?"

The boy stared at her blankly, completely lost as to an answer, his mouth half full of cookie. After a moment he shut his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed slowly, and said in perplexity, "what are my dreams? They are dreams, aspirations, ideals! What else?"

She laughed like a spring rain, "that is all mist and moonbeams lad! Nothing onto which you can hope to gain a hold nor a proper hook on which to hang a life. You need something concrete, something real, something for which to aim. Can you go hunting with such aspirations and hope to come home successful? Nay lad, you must have a target to shoot at or your arrows will be loosed for naught. What is it you want out of life? Where do you want to be ten or twenty years from now?"

The boy gaped at her again, this time with nothing in his mouth, and suddenly shut his hanging jaw with an audible click. He frowned in thought and was silent for an interminable time before finally saying, "I want to be like my father: a prosperous and respected man in the village with a loving, happy family." He smiled broadly, "your fame is not unearned my lady!" He stood and bowed formally, if awkwardly for lack of practice, "your wisdom gives me hope and direction I would not otherwise have had! Thank you, dear lady!" He nearly skipped out the door and turned his steps towards home, wishing he could start his apprenticeship that very moment.

She watched him go, shaking her head in amusement and that impish smile of delight now sparkling in her eyes. She had long ago given up trying to explain to such guests that they often already possessed the so-called wisdom they sought and merely needed to clarify their own thoughts on the matter in question. Time and again had they given her credit for vast depths of wisdom that she did not necessarily possess. She shook her head ruefully and was about to close the door when her nearest neighbor slipped in at the last moment uninvited, eyeing the remaining cookies and cold tea with interest. Said she without preamble, "more mysterious visitors, hmmm? Care to say more?"

The lady of the house stood by the half open door, as if waiting for her uninvited guest to take the hint and leave, but the invader just stood there waiting for an explanation and fresh tea. The good dame continued to stand there in silence and her neighbor's consternation grew by the moment, finally she turned on her heel and in a flutter of skirts and apron, the nosy woman retreated to gossip with her cronies about the abominable manners and the sinister dealings she was no doubt having with all these strangers as she was unwilling to discuss the matter with her nearest and dearest. The old woman's smile now held an ironic twist, knowing exactly what tale her exasperated neighbor was even now carrying to the rest of the village. She laughed outright and went to put the tea things in order.

Excerpt from 'The Greylands: Volume VI:'

### Beyond the Morning:

The historians and astronomers and geologists will tell you that the world revolves around the sun and that the earth is round, but my dear child, they are all of them wrong. Yes, quite wrong, utterly and completely. Men once thought the world flat and that the sun revolved around the earth, and I think, perhaps men were wiser in those days. Of course, this is a fairy tale so I might be mistaken, but at least in this particular world this happened to be the case. In the beginning of things this world had been quite like all the others, but men did not like the way things were so they rebelled against Him who made the worlds and quite made a mess of things. So it was that the world literally fell to pieces, leaving it flat with little bits like islands floating to the East and a shadowy chunk lurking beneath, where nasty things lived and breathed and had their being.

Mountains ringed the whole world about, keeping the water and most of the inhabitants inside, save for one small gap where the Great Sea found an outlet and fell in a great waterfall into fathomless depths below. But the sun boiled the water every night as it passed beneath this strange world and it fell again as rain very early every morning. Thus the Sea was fresh water (and not salt as you might think) and the world never suffered drought nor a rainy day that might ruin all the picnics. So in general, it was a rather prosperous and happy world. Except of course for that minor problem of man's rebellion against his Maker. Besides for that minor glitch, it was quite a wonderful place to call home and an especially good place to have a picnic.

But what was to come of that little matter mentioned above which brought sorrow, death, illness, and violence upon a once joyous and peaceful world? Well, things certainly could not remain as they were, for the Master loved his creatures far too much to leave them in such a miserable story so He came Himself to set things aright. To think that He who made everything would leave unimaginable Glory to spend time amongst the very things He created, naughty as they were. At first, they were quite happy to listen to His stories and benefit from His miracles, but they grew tired of His preaching and jealous of His power, so they did the only reasonable thing and killed the One who invented Life.

Only you cannot kill Him, at least not forever (no matter what the skeptics tell you) and He lived again, but in dying He conquered Death and since the price of rebellion and sin is death, He just happened to pay for all the mistakes and bad deeds of His poor, sundered creatures. The only problem was, most of them were not interested in such a silly thing as redemption, thank you very much! They were quite happy with life the way it was and really could care less about such wondrous Love. They wanted to mind their own business and wanted Him to mind His, of course not realizing that their wellbeing was His business. So it was, that He went back to His place and left the world to do as it pleased, at least until that exciting day when He promised to return and stay forever and ever with his Creatures that really wanted to be with Him; the rest could spend all of eternity in a place where He would never bother them again and they could do very much as they pleased, which they would soon come to realize was not very much fun at all.

The centuries passed and men multiplied and filled the whole earth, and with more people came the obvious problems of greed, war, strife, jealousy, and rage with the strong oppressing the weak, not to mention an increase in littering and other such crimes. Certain countries were better or worse than others in matters of justice and peace, as is always true of the lands of men. In this particular time and place, it was a rather peaceful and prosperous country that was more just than many lands in the history of this world. Its neighbors too were relatively peaceful which allowed them all to dwell for a time in quiet harmony. In the specific neighborhood where this story begins, there were a number of rather rich and influential families with any number of well-bred and educated offspring, all ready to make their way in the wide world.

There were three boys who were quite good friends and had been since the dawn of time, or at least for as long as they could remember. There was nothing that could ever come between them, save perhaps those insurmountable forces of love and death, for taxes as we currently know them had not yet been invented. One of these young men was quite sick and on the verge of that dreadful enemy of mortality, or at least of childhood, yes, romantic love. He was quite sure he wanted to marry the most beautiful (and rich) girl in the neighborhood, and while his friends were quite happy for his good fortune, they really did not wish to see their little trio broken up. While our love-stricken Kyan was off romancing his ladylove, our two remaining heroes, Bayard and Griffin, fell in with an old man who told the most wonderful stories.

He told them of things long ago and things yet to come, of a Great King who had left his Eternal Throne to dwell among mortal men. Of the Great Enemy who had left the service of this King long before the worlds were made, and his intent to corrupt or destroy all that his former Master had wrought, including mankind. They were intrigued by these tales, especially when told that even Today, men must decide on whose side they would live and fight, for it was a war older than Time and none could stand aside or plead ignorance. They must either stand with the King or fall with the Enemy. Quite excited by this prospect, the youths dashed back to find the missing member of their little company who was just bidding farewell to his darling, both with stars in their eyes.

"I must soon propose," said he, as if in a dream.

"Yes, yes," said Bayard impatiently, "all in good time, but come, there is something you must hear!"

Smiling dreamily, Kyan did not resist his friends as they led him back to the interesting man who had so excited their young hearts. The man smiled upon the love-stricken youth, remembering his own days of courting, back when the world was new. Finally, the young man roused from his rosy visions enough to listen to those things the man had to tell. A thrill of excitement ran down his spine, for here was a purpose and a calling indeed!

To tell the truth, the boys and most of their cohort were bored. They had every material pleasure their hearts could desire but it was not enough. Kyan thought himself in love, but mostly he just liked being liked and had no comprehension of the true meaning of the word Love. They had no purpose, no direction, no meaning. What was the point of living? But here was an explanation for why the world was as it was and a challenge to live a life of significance. Said the man in caution, "remember lads, the Master demands your whole heart and being, your very souls! There are those that oppose Him bitterly and you might well pay for your devotion with your lives. If you still wish to pursue this calling, come tonight when we shall all gather in one place."

The boys exchanged an excited smile as he told them when and where to gather, so too did the dark figure smile as he listened intently from his hiding place, but his grin held only eager malice, there was no joy in the gesture at all. The boys dashed off to further discuss these exciting revelations while the old man continued on his way. The dark figure went in search of reinforcements, for he wanted this to be a memorable evening indeed.

Just because they had a secret meeting scheduled for later in the evening, did not mean the three lads could miss the biggest ball of the season. They dandied themselves up to perfection and looked forward to resuming their eager conversation in some quiet corner of the great house that hosted this evening's festivities. But their mothers and the assorted ladies their own age expected them to dance unceasingly for the first part of the evening. Having accomplished their social obligations, Bayard and Griffin managed to slip quietly away but Kyan found himself unable to disentangle himself from Suzanne, who though very attractive this evening, no longer dazzled his mind into pure and utter worship. He tried time and again to join his friends, but the girl was persistent and would not loose her hold on his sleeve. Finally he said, "Suzanne you must let me go! I cannot remain here any longer, for there is a needful thing I must do this evening."

She pouted quite alluringly, "I had hoped you meant to propose this night."

He swallowed hard, what had he been thinking to be so enamored with this girl? This would not be easy, but it must be done, he said as gently as he could, "I have come to realize I cannot marry you my dear..."

He trailed off as she shrieked, "what!?!" at the top of her lungs and froze the dancers in their steps. Kyan blushed scarlet, but did not lose this chance to escape the clutches of his lovely and furious companion.

His friends laughed merrily at Kyan's predicament, but eagerly hastened to the secret meeting arranged by the old man. In the depths of the woods they met, with a glorious sky full of stars looking on and the trees standing in silent vigil about them. The embarrassed trio was the last to arrive and the old man said amusedly, "I was afraid you would not make it."

"Now," said he to the dozen young men that had answered his call, "you are probably all wondering why we are here?" There were several murmurs of excitement as the man continued, "I invited you here tonight to learn more about those things that I hinted at in our previous conversations. You are those who seemed most eager for this mysterious calling. It is in no way required that you go any deeper into this matter if all you wish is to serve our Master in your daily lives, this you can accomplish quite easily in your day to day living by following those precepts I have already imparted to you. This meeting is solely for those who wish to know more of this ancient war and your potential role in it. If you commit to this venture, your lives are no longer your own. You will agree to dedicate them solely, and wholly for the use of our Master and whatever task he appoints each of you. There are those who oppose us with every fiber of their being and every power they possess; they will stop at nothing to thwart our Master's will. This quest will claim your lives, whether it be tonight or a hundred years from now, I cannot say but you must know this before we continue. If there are any here who wish to leave at this point, by all means, get you gone."

There was some embarrassed shifting but no one moved. The man smiled grimly, "then if you are serious in this endeavor, I hereby swear you all to utter secrecy. What you are about to hear is known to very few who still walk this mortal earth. You know of the ancient war between the Master and His once great servant who has become His greatest Enemy. This Enemy does not sleep, nor is he willing to let mortal men live in peace. There are men abroad who have sold their souls into slavery to this dark lord, some even have entered a living death and have become terrible creatures that do naught but his will. What I ask of you this night is to join the ranks of those who oppose these vile men and their undead comrades, that your kith and kin might dwell obliviously in peace."

The three latecomers exchanged wide-eyed looks of wonder, excitement coursed through their veins. The old man continued long into the night, making sure his listeners fully understood what it was they were about to undertake. Finally he finished and asked, "are there any who now would stand aside?" No one moved. "Very well," said he gravely, "come forth one by one and swear yourselves to this service." And so they came forward, each stating his intention to fully abide by all the old man had said, and then taking a long draught of water out of an ancient flagon. "Now," he said, once the last had come forth. "you are each sealed to this cause. Your duties and service will vary, but in the days to come you will each know what is asked of you. Let us disperse before our enemies find us, go back to your homes, and await eagerly your Calling."

The moon had risen and was well overhead by this time, giving plenty of light to the sojourners as they talked eagerly amongst themselves and started to slowly drift away toward their respective homes. All chaos suddenly broke loose amidst the scattered company as nameless creatures howled, wailed, and shrieked in the night, even as arrows and swords, claws and teeth struck wildly into the now panicked gathering. "Run!" shouted the old man, and then everything was terror and frenzy amongst the once eager initiates. Bayard screamed as something viciously sunk its claws into his back, but his two friends each grabbed one of his hands and drew him along in their flight. They found their horses still tied where they had left them, but mad with fright. They disentangled the panicky beasts, who needed no further urging to run. They galloped madly off into the night, heedless of holes or branches that might suddenly end their mad flight, only knowing that worse was behind than any danger that might lurk ahead.

They almost thought themselves away, when a fiendish howl behind them fed fresh fire into their horses' panic and the fear coursing through their own hearts. They prayed desperately to the Master they barely knew for salvation and wondered at the strange fate that would rob them of their lives the very night they decided to make something of them. Griffin's horse screamed, as only a mortally wounded equine can, and went crashing to the earth with his master upon his back, crying, "ride, ride! My horse has broken his leg. Don't stop, it will be the death of us all..."

Bayard and Kyan exchanged a terrified look, wanting to stop their mad flight and aid their friend, but his cries were already lost as whatever was pursuing them fell upon their fallen friend. All they could do was ride on in horror and grief. They galloped on until morning, having heard no sign of pursuit since poor Griffin had fallen behind. The rosy shades of dawn revealed the Great Sea shining crimson before them as their poor beasts collapsed on the beach in exhaustion. A little boat lay upon the shore and beckoned to both of the exhausted boys; they exchanged a tired smile and quickly climbed into the little craft and put out to Sea. They soon caught the current that carried them swiftly east towards the sunrise and the end of the world. They collapsed into an exhausted sleep as the day brightened and the little boat floated gaily along, caught in the strong eastbound current.

The sun had set and both boys roused in the cool of the evening as the first bright stars appeared in the darkening sky. Bayard moaned in agony, for his entire being felt afire with fever from the deep scratches he had received from some fierce beast on the night that seemed more nightmare than terrible reality. Kyan said quietly, "why are we at Sea?"

Bayard smiled weakly, "it felt like the right thing to do at the time."

Kyan thought back to that surreal morning and nodded, "I know of a certain that it was the right thing to do, but where are we going?"

Bayard shrugged and winced with the effort, "at least we left those fiends far behind."

Kyan implored, "but what lies ahead of us? We have no food, you are wounded, this current will bear us right off the edge of the map!"

Sample story from 'Legends of the Brethren:'

### Of Poets and Heroes

The screams of horses and men filled the evening air with a chaos and horror ill-suited to the loveliness and quiet of the fading day. Two of the beasts faded away as they fell dead and the third trapped his master beneath his prone form. The trapped rider was himself uninjured save perhaps in the fall but several arrows had embedded themselves in his two companions and their fallen mounts; of the two, one lay unmoving and was likely dead, the other moved feebly but hope dawned as he caught the trapped man's eye. They stared at one another for a moment, the one with growing hope and the other with a rising fear. The crunch of oncoming feet suddenly drew their attention as their foes approached. His eyes pleading for help, the arrow stricken man suddenly threw some small object into the distant brush and glanced significantly from the now hidden object to his trapped companion whose eyes held reluctance and fear, but a minimal nod of his head brought the shadow of a smile to the stricken man's face before their enemies were upon them. A small band of vile looking men emerged from their ambush and looked about in delight at the carnage they had wrought. One of them turned over the unmoving man to reveal that nothing remained but a corpse.

Another approached the hopeful man and called out, "this one's alive and should suit our purposes well enough. Be done with him." One of the more vile of the company smiled in cruel anticipation, drew his sword as he approached, and finished that which the arrows had begun. His eyes widened momentarily in pain and then stared blankly as the sword was withdrawn from his unmoving chest. The whole group of them then approached the sole survivor yet trapped beneath his dead horse.

Said the leader of the repulsive band, "are you one of the Brethren then?"

The trapped man laughed mirthlessly, "I am simply an ill-fated poet who hoped to write the tale of some great heroic effort but alas, all I shall ever write is a lament to the foolishness of heroic quests if ever I write anything again."

"Yes or no," snarled the leader.

The poet winced at his tone and said, "I am not one of that fellowship."

The man grinned cruelly and asked, "then why do you ride with them?"

Taking on a professional air the poet said, "as I have already related I hoped to write a firsthand account of whatever adventure my late companions hoped to accomplish. I fell in with them not quite a week ago."

"You know nothing of their mission?" queried the leader in some amazement.

The poet sighed, "I only knew they were bound for Kyra on some desperate quest; I do not think even they knew their appointed task but hoped to find some contact upon our arrival."

The sinister man said, "how were they to make contact?"

The poet shrugged, "they took that secret to the grave."

The leader did not seem pleased, "then I have no further use for you." The poet nodded grimly as the sword was raised again but the leader suddenly laughed, "I however like the idea of a lament against all for which the Brethren stand. I will spare your life poet but only for the promise of your work. Write well, for if you do not it might well be the last thing you do. Search them and their luggage, then we ride for Kyra." The despots ransacked the living and the dead, but found nothing of interest. They vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving the trapped poet to somehow extract himself from beneath the dead horse. He painfully managed to pull himself from beneath his ill-fated mount, searched the vegetation concealing whatever it was his companion had hoped to hide, and finally discovered a small blue crystal cut in the shape of a star suspended from a satin ribbon of deepest blue. He looked over the trinket and wondered to whom it might belong and how he was to discover its keeper and his destiny.

He sighed, he was no hero. He sat heavily down upon the dead horse thinking about what had transpired in the last week to so utterly upset the course of his life. He had been a wandering poet who roamed from place to place and entertained as he could to keep his stomach full and a roof over his head. The commonfolk seemed to appreciate his efforts, at least enough that he did not starve. A week gone, the two adventurers had stumbled into the same inn where he was holding forth with his familiar evening oratory. They had listened appreciatively and once the night's entertainment was finished, invited him over to their table for a mug of ale and some much needed conversation. They had struck up a lively conversation, all three being of a quick and learned mind, and had stayed up long past the time all sensible men were in bed. He had asked after their own travels and their tales amused and amazed him. Whether it was the late hour or the wine, the poet never knew but he soon found himself asking if he might not accompany them on their adventure. They exchanged a curious look and finally agreed that he could come, but that there might come a time when they might suddenly have to part company. There was some hint of imminent danger and intrigue, but then no story was complete without such so the poet readily agreed.

So it was that he found himself riding with them to the Southern Realms towards the kingdom of Kyra whose monarchy was suddenly in disarray and from whence had come a desperate note and the trinket that he now held in his hand. No one knew who had sent it, but only that it must be presented to the guards at the castle gates in the great city of Yorka. The owner claimed that the very fate of the country might rest upon this quest and help was needed soon. Kipril shuddered, wondering what strange adventure he had now become a participant in. He looked upon his dead companions and his silent promise to the dying man echoed in his mind. He had ever been an observer of life, a recorder of its wonders and perils, never a participant and now it had been thrust upon him. He was ill-suited to such an adventure not having wielded a sword since his youth and then only poorly, but there was no one else to whom this adventure could fall. He must at least attempt it, if only for the sake of the imperiled people of Kyra. He sighed heavily, stood, and began to salvage what he could from the wreckage. He filled his saddlebags with food and supplies, took up his bow, and then glanced at his fallen companion's sword. He was perhaps not as skilled with the weapon as some, but it might be useful in his quest. Almost reverently, he took up the weapon for which his companion had no more mortal use. In the gathering dark, he took the road and hoped to put many miles between himself and the sorrow behind him.

Kipril awoke early and crawled from the small dell in which he had taken shelter for the night. He walked as fast and as far as he could that day, knowing full well that his quest was a hopeless one unless he soon acquired some swifter form of transportation. Evening was falling and the lights of an inn ahead drew his weary gaze. He felt that hope waited within, even if it were nothing more than an hour's repose from the weary and lonely road he walked. He took a seat, ordered a mug of a nameless brew, and glanced about at his fellow patrons. He saw nothing but farmers and merchants until his eyes fell upon a young woman just entering the inn. She was well dressed and moved like a cat, making him wonder if she were not some minor noble's daughter set out in search of adventure. Perhaps here was a chance to fob this foolish quest off upon someone else. She caught his gaze and curiosity drew her to the stranger's table. He bought her a mug of his own nameless ale and she asked, "whither is your road sir and what quest lays at its end?"

He laughed in spite of himself and said, "it seems I am not the only lonely adventurer upon the road. I am currently walking to Kyra as my mount and companions have fallen upon the way but I shall not make it in time at the pace I currently set. What of you fair lady?"

She smiled at his words and said, "I too am upon a noble quest though perhaps one far less dire. I ride for fabled Astoria and seek there to join the Brethren. Are you perhaps one of those storied knights who has ridden forth in noble pursuit?"

Kipril could not help but laugh, "lady, I am simply a wandering poet that has had unwanted adventure thrust upon him for there is none else to carry on the task which my late companions had begun. They were of that noble calling but alas they have fallen by the way."

She smiled curiously and said, "then at least your quest is a vital one and perhaps your heart nobler than you know. Perhaps I can aid those I hope to be my benefactors ere I ride to their country. If walking is too slow a pace, then let me lend you a horse upon the way."

Kipril smiled gratefully and said, "that would be a great ease to my journey but I am still unworthy of this task. I have a borrowed sword but little skill with it. Could I beg your aid as well for I see you are not yourself unarmed?"

She smiled gaily at him and said, "I was afraid you would turn me away for I am a woman, but I shall joyfully aid your task. What is it we must do?"

Kipril laughed, "I know almost as little as you but I shall gladly accept your company. I have only a token to show at the gates of the castle and there our adventure may perhaps begin."

Alia soon told her story of how her father, a minor noble, had given her the choice of a loveless marriage or taking her small inheritance and forever leaving his presence. She would not doom herself to such a grim fate and thus took her pittance and left behind all that she knew and loved. She had heard many strange tales of the Brethren in her youth and set out in search of the mysterious adventurers of song and story. She was eager to take part in a story of her own, even before ever she reached Astoria.

By common agreement they were saddled and upon the road ere the sun was up and it was not many days before their hurried pace brought them within the borders of Kyra and soon to the castle in the midst of the bustling city of Yorka. Kipril left Alia at an inn in the city that he might approach the gates alone. If he should not return, she was to make her own careful inquiries and if he discovered the nature of their adventure, he would swiftly return to tell the tale. Both knew well the cost of this errand might well be their lives, but Kipril pressed on out of duty and Alia in hopes of righting some wrong. The streets of Yorka were abuzz with the recent demise of the King in a hunting accident, the ascension of his brother to the throne, and the impending birth of the late King's child and hoped for heir. What part the dark men would play in the matter was yet to be seen. Kipril approached the castle gates and proffered the charm to the guards posted there. They eyed the trinket with some curiosity but could not decide if the man was trying to sell it or simply asking after its owner.

A servant stationed nearby however gasped and said, "this man must immediately accompany me." The guards glanced in wonder at the man who had silently stood watch for so many days and now finally spoke. They nodded grudgingly, but this was a personal servant to the Queen and not to be questioned nor gainsaid. They let the man pass and the servant led him deep into the castle to the private chambers whence the Queen had withdrawn to mourn her husband and await the birth of her child. It was she that had sent the urgent message and who now desperately awaited its answer.

Kipril was amazed to be presented before so distinguished a personage and was speechless for a moment as he made his bows. She smiled deeply and a glint of hope shone in her troubled eyes as she said, "so the Lady has sent my savior at last."

Kipril blushed crimson and studied his feet saying, "I am no hero lady but a simple wanderer who has taken up a quest whose true heroes have already fallen in its course. I will do what I can, but I am no warrior but a poet."

She nodded sadly and said, "then to you my brave poet will the duty fall. This then is my plea: if a male child should be born, to Astoria you must bear the infant in safety and secrecy, there to await the day when he can challenge his uncle for the throne of Kyra. For only a man can sit upon Kyra's throne and this child is the only one with a rightful claim save my brother-in-law who has already taken the title of King upon himself. He was ever jealous of my husband and his demise was no accident though such is claimed, and if an heir should be born my son will not live long past his birth. But should a girl child be born, she is no threat to his rule and we may depart in peace to my family's estates and he is forever free to rule Kyra as he sees fit."

"When is the child due?" asked Kipril awkwardly.

She smiled and said, "any day. I had hoped for your arrival sooner due to the legendary swiftness of unicorns but alas your mounts are mortal horses." As if in answer to his question a wince of pain crossed her face as she said, "perhaps even today!" The Queen winced again as she said, "I think that you arrived only just in time. Tonight will reveal whether your quest is a vain one."

Her ladies escorted her to her chambers, the midwife was fetched, and Kipril was left in the sitting room with a silent servant. The night passed slowly and only occasional sounds of pain and frustration came from the adjoining room to break the silent vigil. Finally the unmistakable cry of an infant was heard and not long after it was repeated. The midwife rushed out all in a flutter and beckoned in the man who had waited so long; the Queen wished to see him without delay. He made a rather flustered bow and she smiled tiredly at his discomfiture. She said, "twins!" He looked at her in anticipation as she continued, "a boy and a girl, of course the boy's birth shall remain an absolute secret and you shall bear him to safety until the appointed time. Are you ready to ride?"

He said, "I need only fetch my confederate and my luggage from a nearby inn and then we shall leave at once."

"Confederate?" asked the Queen.

Kipril said, "a young woman I met by chance upon the way who was on her way to Astoria and agreed to this slight detour."

The Queen smiled, "excellent, a man traveling with an infant would arouse suspicion. I do not think your encounter chance young man. Why did she not accompany you?"

Kipril said, "this mad adventure has already cost two men their lives. I was concerned about pursuit and did not want both of us to fall afoul of some unknown foe ere we knew our errand. She remained behind in case something happened to me."

The Queen said, "you have acted wisely. Return to your inn, pack your things, and come to the small gate the servant shall show you as quickly as you can. Haste will ensure secrecy."

He bowed again, met the servant in the adjoining room, and followed him on a twisting path out of the castle. They emerged in a dark alley and the small door shut silently behind Kipril as he dashed off in search of his inn. He had just stepped out into the main street abutting the alley when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He clutched at the wound as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground in agony; the air was filled with strangely familiar and sinister laughter. The dark voice said, "I told you to leave well enough alone boy! This is the price of meddling in business not your own. Who did you meet within the castle and to what purpose?"

"That I shall never tell," groaned the stricken man.

"We shall see," snarled the sinister voice as the man dashed off to investigate where the meddler had been.

Kipril struggled to his feet, holding his hand to his wounded side; he dashed off in a stumbling run towards the inn. Alia gasped when she saw who the ashen faced man was who nearly fainted as he entered the door of the inn. She had been speaking quietly with a man in the uniform of the Brethren. Both ran to aid the injured man on the verge of collapse. "What happened?" she gasped.

Kipril glanced about nervously, "we must talk quickly and privately. There is no time." They wasted no time in helping him to sit on the edge of the bed in one of the guest rooms. Once they were alone he said, "as you know there are rumors about that the late King was murdered by his brother who made it look like a hunting accident. The Queen was concerned for the safety of her unborn child, should it be a boy and potential heir to the throne. If the child was a male, she wished one of the Brethren to carry him safely to Astoria to wait until he came of age to challenge his uncle for the throne. The Queen gave birth tonight to twins, a boy and a girl. She will withdraw quietly to her estates with the girl and waits for us to bear her son to safety. Alia, you must meet the servant at a small side gate and take the infant to Astoria."

"What about you?" whispered she.

Kipril drew back his tunic from the wound and said grimly, "I am in no condition to travel nor do I think I shall long survive this wound. One of the men who ambushed my late companions fell upon me as I was leaving the castle. He must have seen me go in and waited for me to come out. He attacked me, questioned me, and then ran off to see what I would not tell him. He will be on the watch so you must be careful."

The Brother spoke for the first time, "these are grim tidings indeed. I am the Lady's Advisor to the King, or I was until the new King banished me from the castle, save for court functions, which is why I now haunt this inn. The child must reach safety at all costs. Take my mount, he will bear you swiftly and safely to Astoria."

Alia's eyes were wide, "me ride a unicorn?"

The man nodded grimly, "I cannot accompany you for I am needed here and neither is your friend in any condition for such an adventure. It must be you. Go, and may the Master ride with you." She nodded grimly, bid farewell to her companions, and dashed from the room.

"Will she make it do you think?" asked Kipril of the other man. He only shook his head in wonder and helped make the stricken man as comfortable as he could.

Alia rode swiftly towards the small gate, astonished at the speed and silence of her mount. He was reluctant to so abandon his master but he knew this task was of the utmost importance. They arrived swiftly and nearly unseen for the unicorn had draped himself in darkness. Alia knocked upon the gate, it was opened by a cautious servant, she showed the crystal star as instructed, and soon received the child into her keeping along with those things that might prove his identity at the proper time. They dashed off together into the night bound for Astoria. Not far out of the city, the unicorn stopped and whinnied in fear but his master bid him run all the harder and he could not disobey. Some time after he screamed in rage and grief but continued on his course, faithful to his master's last command.

The dark man left his injured foe and ran off into the darkness to see from whence he had come. He could not yet gain access to the castle and could learn nothing more upon a second investigation. He dashed back to find his nemesis fled and followed quickly after. Not long after the girl had left, the dark man burst through the window of the room in which his quarry lay helpless upon the bed. He had not expected to find one of the Brethren within, but all the better. The two men whirled about in a dance of death and steel while Kipril watched wide-eyed from the bed. The two were fairly evenly matched and it was hard to tell who had the upper hand. The dark man snarled in glee as he clipped his opponent on the shoulder and knew his victory was assured, but in his moment of triumph he dropped his guard for a brief second allowing his foe to strike a mortal blow. The man fell to the floor laughing through his pain and panted, "you think you have won but neither of you will long survive me." He coughed a few times before succumbing to his wounds and then dissolved into an oily puddle on the floor.

The two survivors shared an astonished look and the Brother leant heavily upon the bedpost, clutching his injured shoulder and breathing heavily. Kipril asked in growing concern, "what is wrong? What did he mean you would not survive?"

The man said quietly through teeth clenched in pain, "I think there was some vile taint upon that blade of his and that it is quickly killing me. I doubt you will long survive me. That being the case, have you thought about what lies beyond death?"

Kipril stared at the man in astonishment, "you are nearer death than I and you want to talk philosophy?"

The man winced as he laughed and said, "I have no such worries but you might spend all eternity ruing these last few hours."

Kipril frowned, "you Brethren are all fanatics on this topic. I suppose if this Master of yours does exist then I have naught to fear. I have lived a good life, or as good as any man could in my circumstances. Besides, I have gotten myself killed on his behalf, for which I think he owes me much."

The dying man's breathing was ragged and darkness was ever on the brink of overcoming him, but he fought against it saying, "with an attitude like that you are sure to spend an eternity apart from the Master and thus in utter darkness and despair. The Master is no man with whom you can bargain in the market place. He owes mortal man nothing. We are all rebels against his perfect way and we all justly deserve condemnation. Our best efforts are nothing to him. What can any mortal do that could impress or indebt the One who made us."

"Then we are all doomed?" asked the skeptical Kipril.

The man was fading fast but said, "the price of rebellion is death, but the Master took that penalty upon himself to spare us if only we will accept his sacrifice on our behalf. He need not have known death, but he suffered death for us."

"What must I do?" asked the stunned Kipril.

With his last breath the man said, "believe, trust, and give yourself utterly to him." He toppled over and moved no more, leaving Kipril alone to contemplate eternity.

These Brethren were mad, absolutely mad! He had now seen three of them die for no good cause. Could they be right? In all the excitement he had forgotten about his own wound and now remembrance came crashing agonizingly back to the front of his mind. He was deathly weak and each breath became more and more a struggle. He glanced desperately at the dead man and idly wondered how long before he himself was naught but a corpse. His mind returned to those uneasy things of which the dying man had spoken. All his life he had heard the tales of the Master but had never felt inclined to think of them as more than just stories. What if there was something beyond humanity? Beyond death? It certainly made sense but how to know what was truly out there? He glanced again at the dead man and remembered how certain he had been even to the point of being able to proselytize upon the brink of death. Worse, his own heart seemed to tell him that here was the truth he had ignored all these years. His mind protested not wanting to admit that up until this moment perhaps his life truly had been lived in vain. The weariness deepened and darkness gnawed at the corners of his vision; the maw of eternity gaped before him and yet he wanted to protest, drag his feet, and hesitate.

Finally, the moments running out, he gasped, "I do not know you but I know I need you. Forgive my rebellion, my ignorance, and my hesitation. I have nothing to offer, but I am yours to use as you will."

A voice like echoed thunder said quietly beside him, "I certainly shall."

Alia rode swiftly to Astoria, her heart near to breaking for her fallen companions. The infant traveled well for one so new to the world and she wondered what hope rested upon the shoulders of one so small and innocent. The unicorn revealed his true form as they ran through the streets of Astoria that none might bar their way. The guards upon the castle gates watched curiously but allowed the strange woman to pass unhindered. It was not often that one not of the Brethren ever rode upon the back of so legendary a creature. They gaped even more to see the stranger clutching a very young child to her breast. She slid from the saddle and glanced about in near desperation, "I must see your Lady immediately concerning happenings in Kyra."

A servant ran immediately to ask after the Lady's availability and returned swiftly to lead the strange young woman to stand before their legendary leader. Alia told her story and presented the child and his accessories to the astonished Lady who replied, "these are certainly tragic tidings and we shall tend to the child as his mother wishes. Now what of you my dear? You who have traveled so far and risked so much; what is your part in this tale?" The infant was given into the care of a childless woman and her husband who were delighted to have such a charge. Alia was finally able to realize her goal of joining the Brethren.

The years passed and the child grew into a boy verging on manhood. For ten years, he grew up quietly at home thinking no more of himself than any other peasant's son. At ten years of age he was allowed to go to Astoria to further his education with the renowned knowledge and teaching skills of the Brethren. At fifteen, he was convinced he wanted to become one of them. He stood before the Lady that day, nervous but hopeful to have his request granted. She looked at him quietly for a few moments and a small sadness seemed to flit through her eyes for a moment but was soon replaced with dead seriousness. She said, "Ian, I cannot grant that which you ask."

He gaped and without thinking asked, "what have I done or not done that you will not allow me to join you?"

She smiled and said gently, "it is nothing of your doing but concerns a greater duty you must first fulfill." He looked at her in absolute confusion as she continued, "as you are well aware, the Brethren cannot rule even a city, let alone a country save perhaps the Lady of Astoria. You cannot take your Oath because you are the rightful heir to the throne of Kyra and the time has come for you to journey thither and claim your birthright." He looked at her as if she had gone mad.

She continued, "your father, the former King of Kyra was killed upon a hunting foray and many suspect his brother in the crime. Your uncle now rules Kyra with an iron fist and oppresses your people severely. Your father died before your birth and your mother feared for your life so sent you hence that you might grow up in safety. Your twin sister and mother yet reside upon your family estates in Kyra. Nothing is known to anyone outside the Brethren and a few faithful servants of your existence. My hope, and the hope of all Kyra, is that you return to the land of your birth and claim the throne that is rightfully yours and rule your people more justly than their current King. This is why I must deny you the Oath."

He gaped at her and finally said, "I understand and know I must take this quest upon myself if only for the sake of the suffering Kyrans, but how am I, a mere boy to challenge a King?"

The Lady smiled warmly, "I will send several of the Brethren with you along with certain proofs of your valid claim to the throne. You must know this is a very dangerous quest; four men and two unicorns have already died in the events surrounding your birth. The King has many dangerous servants and advisors who will aid him in thwarting your efforts at all costs."

Ian bowed deeply and said, "it is a risk I must take. What if I fail?"

The Lady smiled, "short of death I do not think you shall fail."

He smiled weakly, "my only regret is not being able to serve you as one of the Brethren."

She smiled warmly and said, "if you survive this ordeal and still have the interest in sixty years or so after you have passed your reign onto your children, I see no reason why you cannot yet join the Brethren." He smiled deeply at her sincerity and wondered if his zeal could be so strong as to last six decades.

Alia and three others were dispatched to accompany the aspiring prince to Kyra. He carried with him a letter written by his mother and sealed with the royal signet ring, the crystal star charm, and his late father's sword. It was early autumn and the weather was perfect for travel; the party made excellent progress and was soon nearing the borders of Kyra. It was at this point in their travels that Ian felt the adventure was about to begin; until now, he had been in a blissful half-dream but now was not the time for childish fancies when the fate of a nation rested upon his very inadequate shoulders. It was late afternoon and the sun had set all the world afire in shades of richest gold when a lone traveler approached the party upon the road. He drew rein and waited patiently for the party to approach.

One of the men asked as they drew nigh, "why do you bar our way stranger."

The stranger suppressed a smile of secret amusement and said, "I do not bar your path but simply wish to join your party. I have come to aid you in your endeavors."

The Brother laughed, "and what could you know of our errand?"

The stranger replied, "I have come to see finished the errand I began fifteen years ago."

"And what errand would that be stranger?" asked the Brother cautiously.

The man smiled sheepishly and said, "to see a proper King restored to Kyra."

"What part did you play in that sad tale," asked the Brother in confusion, "I thought there were none living, save those in our party, to finish what was begun so long ago."

"Alia can testify to my involvement," said the man strangely.

All the while, Alia had been staring at the stranger in astonishment and could not quite believe her eyes. With his statement she said in doubt and horror, "Kipril? Is it truly you? I thought you long dead! What became of the Advisor to the King, his mount certainly felt him die."

Kipril glanced towards the ground and then ruefully met her astonished gaze, "you know me for truly myself. Not long after you left, my attacker came to finish me only to find me not alone. They fought, the sinister man was killed, and my valiant protector did not long survive him. I was on the brink of death when I finally realized sense and surrendered my life, failing as it was, to the Master. The Master himself was in that room and took me at my word. He healed my wound and set me immediately upon this task. To you it has been fifteen years; to me it has been only a few minutes! I do not know what shall become of me once all is ended. I may perhaps live on for years or I might fall to dust the moment the King is crowned. At least my life will not have been lived completely in vain."

The little company stared at him in astonishment, but the Brethren knew he spoke truly no matter how hard it was to believe. Alia smiled at her long lost friend and said, "then welcome back my friend. What counsel can you give us about matters in Kyra?"

Kipril said, "as you know, the King is a vile tyrant and sorely tries his people. What you may not know is that the men behind the deaths of three of your comrades fifteen years ago secretly aid and advise the King. The Queen and her daughter still live quietly in the country but the King has his eye on the girl as a prospective bride for his own son and heir. I suggest we break into two parties. Alia, the boy, and I shall ride to the former Queen's estates and the rest of you shall ride to Yorka and assess the situation there. We shall meet you as soon as we have apprised the Queen of her son's return." The others quickly agreed and they set off immediately for their assigned destinations.

As Alia and her companions made camp that night, Ian asked, "how can this be?"

Alia laughed, "how can you have spent so many years among the Brethren and not believe in miracles?"

Ian smiled ruefully, "I suppose I do but I thought they only ever happened to other people. The Master truly does work in wonderful and mysterious ways!"

They rode on, avoided the patrols once they crossed into Kyra, and soon found themselves upon the Queen's estates. Alia presented the star trinket to the guards at the great gates before the ancient house and a servant was quickly sent to inquire after the Queen. The astonished servant quickly returned and ushered the strangers into his lady's presence. All three bowed and the aging woman stared in wonder and joy at her long sundered son. Finally each found the courage to embrace and a quick round of wondering questions and excited chatter followed.

After Ian met his sister and mother and all their curiosity and joy had momentarily been satisfied Alia asked, "how go things in Kyra? Are they as bad as we have heard? Any idea how the boy is to retake the throne?"

The queen said, "things are bad enough, especially for the commoners. In usual circumstances, Ian would present himself to the royal lawyers who would then decide whether he was the legal heir to the throne, but these are far from usual circumstances. I fear his uncle will kill him regardless."

Kipril said, "I think secrecy will not avail us. Let us present ourselves before the entire court that a knife in the dark will not end all their worries. With enough witnesses perhaps the King will step down as he rightfully should. If he will not, then we will do what we must. He may challenge you to a duel for the crown and I am sure there will be treachery in the mix."

Ian said firmly, "I will do what I must."

They all agreed to the sketchy plan and the three set off at once with the Queen to follow after with the intent of attending court on the following evening when Ian would make his claims. They reached Yorka the following morning and met with the three that had gone ahead who agreed completely with their suppositions. The Brethren could not take the throne by force, but neither could the current King legally deny the claims of his nephew. His only recourse would be to have the upstart murdered, a dangerous task since all the city would soon know of the challenge to his throne or to challenge him to and best him in a duel.

The servants of evil had not been lax these many years either. They had a spy in the midst of the Queen's servants and the moment he saw the star trinket he knew the game was afoot. He made his way to the city and swiftly reported his suspicions to his dark masters. So it was when the young renegade came to make his claims, the King and his sinister advisors were not taken unawares. They could have barred the youth an audience but then he would have made a scene in the street. He was too well protected to be silently murdered and it would be good to show the court exactly how such rebels were dealt with. The King actually looked forward to the confrontation and his associates would make sure that he was the victor. As expected, he made his appearance at court the following evening.

There was much gossip amongst the bystanders as the King had allowed word of the imposter to be spread abroad. Alia, Kipril, and his mother accompanied him to stand before the King; the rest of the Brethren spread out to make sure no ambush was imminent. Ian said in a voice for all to hear, "I hereby lay claim to the throne of Kyra held unjustly these fifteen years by the murderer of my father."

The King laughed, "have you any proof boy that I killed your father or that you are even the late King's son?"

Ian stood his ground and said, "I have no proof you murdered my father save the certainty in my heart. But I have ample proof I am the son of the late King." He proffered his proofs and the royal lawyers examined the documents and artifacts for authenticity.

The King said, "I thought this woman bore a girl child."

The former Queen spoke, "I gave birth to twins that night. The boy was safely hidden until he was of an age to claim his birthright."

The King scoffed, "a likely story, you simply found a youth of the correct age and indoctrinated him."

Alia spoke, "nay Sire, it was I that bore this very child to Astoria fifteen years ago. Know by the Oath that it is true."

The King looked to the lawyers, "well?"

They nodded grimly, "the artifacts and proofs seem to be quite real. Can anyone bear testimony to the Queen's story?"

An aged woman emerged from the crowd and the ancient midwife said, "she speaks truly. I was there when she gave birth and delivered a boy and a girl that night."

"Very well," said the King in much glee, "who is to say that you are the legal heir to the throne? Why must I vacate that which is lawfully mine?"

Alia spoke, "Kyran law states that in the presence of an immature heir, a Steward may be appointed until the boy is of age at which point he will assume the throne. Your reign is legally at an end. You are also accused of gaining the throne through treacherous means which would also nullify your right to reign."

"You have no proof," snarled the King, "and I will not relinquish the throne to this no name upstart. If he wants the throne he must step over my dead body to gain it; I challenge him to a duel."

Ian looked concerned, "must I fight him?"

The royal lawyers looked grim, "under these circumstances it would violate all our customs not to. You have no legal requirements as such, but the people would not respect you if you declined. I also think your uncle would prove a dangerous enemy were he allowed to live."

The King gave him a dangerous look and the lawyer replied, "I was only stating the obvious Sire, no insult was meant on your behalf."

The King glared at his nephew, "well?"

The boy drew his sword in answer, the audience drew back to give them room to fight, and the King grinned as he drew his own blade and approached the boy. The lawyer intoned in a dreary voice for what seemed a decade the various rules before allowing the combatants to bow and face one another. The boy was young but skilled, the old man experienced but out of practice. They whirled about in a deadly dance while the dark aides of the King drew their own weapons to aid the King by treachery should such be necessary. The Brethren held their own swords at the ready seeing what the sinister men intended. It was the stamina of the younger man that won the day as his weary uncle knelt before him with chest heaving wildly for air. He mocked between breathess, "finish me boy or they shall think you too weak to rule."

The boy shook his head, "no, you shall stand trial for my father's murder. I will not make you a martyr or give you the honor of a swift death."

At that moment, the sinister men in the crowd made to fall upon the boy but were met by an equal number of the Brethren. The King seeing his future looking bleak and his treacherous friends fighting for their lives, lunged forward with sword drawn upon the distracted boy. The blade buried itself deeply in Kipril's chest as he leapt between Ian and his murderous uncle. Seeing his own doom near to hand, the vile King took his own life rather than losing it justly to the headsman. His vile henchmen did likewise rather than reveal their sinister allegiance.

The court was in uproar and confusion until the Brethren and heir apparent finally managed to calm them. No one understood why the dark men had dissolved into an oily puddle of goo upon death but the matter was soon forgotten as the lawyers proclaimed Ian the rightful heir to the throne now that his uncle was most certainly dead. Some of the more treacherous nobles made to sneak out but the Brethren barred their way until the new King could deal with them justly.

Ian stared down in dismay at Kipril's shattered form, "I should be the one lying dead."

Alia put a reassuring hand upon his back and smiled sadly at her fallen friend, "he was already assumed dead in your service Sire; it just happened a little later than we all thought. He knew well his duty and carried it out faithfully. We can all only hope to die so nobly. We will mourn a little, but grief should not be our constant companion, for we shall meet again beyond time if we remain faithful until the end ourselves." The King was crowned and ruled his people justly for many years and once his own son was well established upon the throne, Ian quietly vanished and only his nearest kin and the Brethren knew what became of him after. The poet who thought himself no hero lived on in song and story long after Kyra itself had passed out of memory.

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.

Excerpt from 'On Princesses: A Foible'

Once upon a time in a land far away (as all such lands certainly are), there was born a Princess, and like all such royal children, her birth caused quite a stir in the Kingdom, for certainly this was a herald of troubles to come, for is it not so in all such tales? Quite sensibly therefore, in anticipation of this unknown but very certain threat to his Crown and Kingdom, the King sent his only child away for her sake and for all other sakes in the Kingdom. With a sigh of relief and a bit of grief, the loving but dutiful parents sent their child into another world where she might remain until the Appointed Time when the threat of all potential disasters would be long past and she could return safely to the realm. The place where the wizards banished the poor dear was a weird and wild place, filled with all manner of strange and bizarre creatures, and this was the opinion of people who had seen unicorns and dragons and centaurs.

It was a place where no sane villain (and very few of the crazy ones) would think to look for such a personage, for what parent would dare send their beloved child There? Besides for the inanity of sending a royal child to such a place (which was precisely the reason to do it), there was also the fact that it would be the perfect place for her to grow up and learn all the things children of noble birth must know: namely that oneself is the most important entity in the known universe. For the citizens of this strange and distant land had long ago forgotten their past, cared little for their futures, and could really care less about anyone but themselves. It was a whole civilization of folk who thought they were aristocrats or at least thought they should be. It was perfect! Or at least it should have been, for the one problem with raising a completely self-absorbed person is trying to get them to notice or do anything not immediately associated with themselves.

"Gertrude!" shrieked a prissy female at the top of her lungs and voice range, "Gertrude! I am in desperate need of your help! Eeek!"

Gertrude dashed up the stairs at her sister's frantic call for aide, which in itself was not disturbing, for Clarisse must cry out in vexation at least a dozen times a day, but that she would ask for help from her sister was nearly unthinkable. She either sought help from her indulgent parents, her elder but not wiser sister Missy, or from one of the equally flighty young women who always seemed to hang about her like the pox, but never would she deign to demand the assistance of her geeky twin sister. It must be something truly desperate indeed to draw such a cry for help when Gertrude was the only person within auditory range capable of rendering aide. Gertrude dashed into the bathroom where Clarisse was putting the finishing touches on her hours' long morning ritual only to find the whole morning's labor disfigured by a look of utter horror. Now this look on anyone else might cause the observer a moment of pity but it occupied Clarisse's face so often that those familiar with her seldom seemed to notice save in times of dire emergency such as this. The panic filled eyes were focused on the bathroom mirror which had moments ago displayed only her gorgeous countenance but now her visage was obscured by a rather lengthy message scrawled out within the mirror itself, for no amount of wiping or scratching would efface the writing.

Shrieked Clarisse as Gertrude ran into the little room, "what can it mean? Oh, what can it mean? How can hackers and telemarketers have gained access to my bathroom mirror? I have already destroyed or deleted this message many times over, only to have it appear here!" Gertrude was quite intrigued and even on the tingling verge of that excitement every true geek knows when an adventure is before them. She read the message again and again, and with each reading her smile deepened while Clarisse could only stare at her in growing mystification. Finally she groused, "why are you smiling like an idiot? This had better not be some trick of your nerdy friends!"

Gertrude faced her twin sister and said, "how could you have let this go for so long? It says quite plainly that this is the five thousand one hundred and sixth time this message has been relayed! How can you be so oblivious? What other messages have you received?"

Clarisse smiled frivolously and said, "oh, they have tried to contact me by every means possible. They even sent me a letter! Who sends letters in this day and age? I cannot get away from this harassment, even in my own bathroom! Every means by which to communicate has been tried and has failed, for I will not believe these hackers, whoever they are. Are you sure this is not some weird trick from your even weirder friends?"

Gertrude laughed grimly, "my friends are too enlightened to try entangling you in such a plot. They would never waste their time." She sighed deeply, "But alas, it is real and for some reason beyond comprehension this adventure has fallen to you." She brightened then and said, "of course I must come with you because you will be completely inept upon such a quest."

Clarisse gaped, "you believe this nonsense? You really think this is wise or safe or socially acceptable?" Gertrude laughed as she grabbed her sister's hand and drew her out of the bathroom and down the hall towards the bedrooms, saying, "it is certainly none of those but you are not going to miss this if I can help it!" Clarisse was too mystified to do anything but follow in confused astonishment.

The full text of the writing was as follows, "My Dearest Madam, please be informed that we have tried reaching you by various means, on several occasions (5,106 to be exact). We were loath to send this message in this manner as it is quite intolerable to separate one's royal personage from one's royal reflection but we are quite desperate. Please proceed to the Park and enter the first horse drawn vehicle you encounter and all will be well. If you fail in this endeavor many lives, including possibly your own, shall be grievously touched. Ever Yours, The Royal Secretary of Lofrenier." Clarisse could not comprehend in the least what Gertrude knew almost before she read the message: it must be magical and therefore an adventure, but who was senseless enough to ask for help from such a person as Clarisse? Regardless, this thing must be done and there was no way that Gertrude was going to miss it.

They stopped in Clarisse's room and Gertrude ransacked her as until now forbidden closet. She finally drew forth a long dress that might be just the thing, or as close to the thing as she could convince Clarisse to wear in public. Clarisse was aghast to see Gertrude digging in her closet but then even more mortified when she demanded that she wear last year's prom dress out in the streets! The poor old dress was so terribly out of fashion that Clarisse would be forced to remain out of social reach for at least a week if she were foolish enough to give in to her sister's ravings. Gertude solved this small problem by dashing from the room and presenting her sister with a veil. At first Clarisse had no idea what the filmy material was and then it occurred to her that she could then appease her sister (also something she had never done) and also be out and about without causing a riot and being recognized as she had feared. As she donned the clothing, still not understanding but so shocked with the morning's events that she dared not defy her sister, Gertrude dashed from the room and returned almost instantly garbed in one of those weird ensembles she insisted on wearing to Medieval Fairs and Sci-Fi Conventions but this outfit was much more appropriate to the former than the latter.

"You look like Robin Hood," laughed Clarisse, as Gertrude tied up the back of her dress.

Gertrude grinned and said, "one of us had better. Come my Lady!" They donned a pair of cloaks (also quite unfashionable) and made their way out the door and towards the park.

"I still can't believe we are doing this," said Clarisse as they entered the park.

Gertrude grinned and said, "I cannot believe you are doing this, but I can easily believe I am doing this."

Clarisse nodded dully, remembering all the times her weird sister had dressed up to attend movie premiers, book signings, and conventions. On their own street, had there been anyone to observe they might have been remarked, but in the park they were quite overlooked as the various denizens thereof were even more aberrantly arrayed than themselves. There were the punk kids with their tattered clothes, chains, tattoos, and interesting hair colors. There was a wedding party posing for pictures. There was a herd of young people wearing nothing but black, complete with stygian hair and make-up. There were clowns and street performers and old ladies with blue hair, and in the mix no one noticed the pair of oddly clad young ladies. They had circled the park halfway when finally a vehicle drawn by something of vaguely equine descent stood waiting as had the Handsome Cabs of London in bygone years. Clarisse gave one desperate look to her sister who only laughed excitedly and drew her into the buggy.

The door closed behind them, the driver whipped up the beast, and off they rattled. It was completely dark in the little carriage, for the windows were covered and the doors were shut. Clarisse wondered if perhaps she had wandered into a bad dream. Gertrude was so happy she hoped she would not wake up and spoil it; her only disappointment was that her sister seemed to be the heroine of this tale rather than herself. They rattled on for what seemed hours but was perhaps only five minutes when the driver stopped the creature pulling the vehicle, descended from his perch, and opened the door while bowing deeply to its occupants. They stood before an enormous castle that blushed crimson with the rising sun. A middle aged man and woman, both handsome and wearing crowns, stood upon the great steps and stared in wonder at Clarisse; they had yet to notice Gertrude in their excitement.

Finally the woman spoke, "welcome home Princess!"

Gertrude gaped, "you are a princess? Well, I should have known! That explains everything!"

"And who is this?" asked the man in some amusement.

Clarisse stuttered, quite overcome, "my sister."

The Royal pair exchanged an amused smile and the Queen said gently, "but child, you have no siblings. Perhaps she is your adopted sister but certainly she is not of Royal Blood."

Clarisse's eyes widened with shock and she said joyfully, "we are not related? That is wonderful! I knew she was too strange to be a blood relative! I at first suspected aliens, but I suppose this is a reasonable alternative. What did you say about me being a Princess?" Quickly the whole tale was told about how the girl's birth was certainly a proclamation of doom and how she had been sent to another world for everybody's sake and how her mother in that strange land had only had one baby but somehow everyone thought she had had two quite unidentical twins. And now, the time had come for Clarisse to marry and live happily ever after. Clarisse gaped, "but how can I marry someone I do not even know? Maybe if he is a Prince and terribly handsome..."

Said the King, "certainly he is a Prince and Princes by definition must be handsome. You must marry him or Dread Things might result."

