

# Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost

Book 2: The Chronicles of the Ball of Light

# Patrick Bowron

Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost

Published by Patrick Bowron

Cover Artwork by Rebekah Crowmer

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2020 Patrick Bowron

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Prologue

It was the first day of spring. The grass was a deep green, colored beautifully from the heavy falling rains of the week past. The trees were tall and strong, a perfect blend of brown and shading green. High above, the white clouds floated lazily by in the warm sunshine. Flower petals sailed in the air complimented by the laughter of children. It was the first day of spring.

Everything was right in the kingdom of Plantyr. Plantyr, the largest of the Ten Kingdoms had stood the test of time, being the beacon of hope and peace to the smaller lands that lay outside its border. For a thousand years it had known no war. It was a place where the simple farmer and high aristocrat would sit in the same tavern and share rounds of ale. In Plantyr there was a buzz in the air, a growing excitement for the Spring Festival that would take place later in the day. It was the first day of spring.

Above the swaying trees of green and brown, amidst the flowing winds where the white clouds journey, stood Gray Slate. Gray Slate, the castle-city of Plantyr, had weathered the wars of the ancient past. She was bright and beautiful adorning the morning sun like a cloak fluttering behind a charging knight in his shimmering silver armor. She was the home of thousands, and on this morning her streets were filled with vendors and buyers alike all preparing for the excitement of the day. It was the first day of spring.

Tall were Gray Slate's towers. They streamed from her like fingers reaching for the heavens. Tall pinnacles of strength and beauty alike, they stood firm in the dawn's light, their banners of many colors flapping wildly in the morning wind. Their inhabitants were the wealthy and powerful alike. The decisions made in those towers affected the thousands that lived under the King's banner in Plantyr. Of all those moving within the towers, none were more important than a young woman planning her attire for the festival on this day. It was the first day of spring.

Princess Delsha paced her tower chamber. Delsha's eyes took in the outfits of blue, yellow, and green lying upon her bed. Her maid held up dress after dress, only to have the princess shake her head. The maid sighed knowing her mistress would continue this for another hour at the least. The choice of the princess was very important. It was the first day of spring.

In the highest tower of Grey Slate sat an old man. His eyes were black and sharp, his beard fluffy and white. He sat on a great chair wrought with silver and sapphires facing a window that looked out to the sky. A smile and a beam of light slid across the old King's face. It was the first day of spring.

Two men entered the King's chamber, one was young, and the other was old. They were dressed in similar fashion, colorful robes of red and blue. Their eyes were bright and full of wisdom. They were the King's bodyguards, his wizards, and they carried with them their staffs of ashen wood. They bowed before their King and bent to speak into his ear. It was the first day of spring.

Faraway, on a distant road walked a man. The trees of the forest formed an arched canopy above him, and sheltered him from the growing heat of the day. The gravel of the road crunched beneath his boots, and kicked pebbles slid across rocks with the sound of gems being poured into a velvet purse. He was cloaked and hooded in black and he brought with him the thunder and the storm. It was the first day of spring.

Chapter 1: Water and Soap

Loud splashes of water and echoing cries of laughter rang out of the royal washroom. Princess Delsha and her maid Lacy were preparing for the festival. Lacy handed the princess a large cake of yellow soap as she soaked in the tub's large basin. Lacy smiled as she gently poured water from a vase to rinse Delsha's hair.

"My Lady, you will look so beautiful for tonight's festival," Lacy said, a smile still bright upon her round face. "You truly will be the spring flower, a tulip if I may add," Lacy chuckled. "All the suitors will be pulling out their finest tricks to win your heart."

Princess Delsha laughed merrily at this. Her thin figure had blossomed over the past year turning her into a young woman that would attract a man's eye. She had also reached her fifteenth year, the age in Plantyr when one could marry. Yes, she would be center of attention during the night's Spring Festival.

"Do you really think I will meet my prince tonight, Lacy?" Delsha asked waiting anxiously, hoping she would hear the answer her heart so desperately needed to hear.

"Oh yes, My Lady, there's no doubt in my mind. He will show up and sweep you off your feet, and together you will live long with a life filled of love."

At this, Delsha's heart soared. Silence ensued for a few moments while Delsha slipped into a fantasy filled with love and romance. Lacy continued to rinse the hair of the princess. Delsha scrubbed a little while longer with her soap, and then used a soft cloth to cleanse her body.

"I think that I am clean now, Lacy," Delsha said.

"Alright your highness let me get your towels and your robe," Lacy said as she hurried over to a stool and gathered the items off of it.

She returned as the princess rose from the water, sending much of it spilling out onto the tiled floor littered with petals of flowers. With the towel Lacy dabbed much of the wetness from Delsha's body. She then slipped the robe upon the fresh and clean body of the young woman and helped her step out of the washbasin.

Lacy led the princess away from the tub into her bedroom chamber, where in front of a mirror lined in gold, Lacy combed the princess's long brown hair, while Delsha spoke incoherently of love.

"Can you imagine it, Lacy? Me before all of the young aristocrats and barons dressed like a spring flower. I will curtsy and they will bow, and I will take turns dancing with them all. We'll twirl and twirl to the sound of chimes and flutes and they'll tell me how lovely I am, and I will thank them, and they will ask for my hand, every last one of them! Oh, how joyous it all will be tonight!"

The handmaiden smiled, hoping all the dreams of the young princess would come true. Lacy interrupted Delsha to ask her what fragrance she wished to wear for the evening. Delsha forgot her daydreams of dance and song, being presented with a much more important matter.

"Well, let's see," Delsha started, bringing a thin and delicate finger to her brow in concentrated thought.

"The tulip fragrance I enjoy so much. It reminds me of sitting under the trees in father's garden during a mid-summer's morning, but oh the rose fragrance will go so much better with my gown, it being green with the red sash. Oh, this is going to be the best Spring Festival ever, Lacy!"

Lacy continued to comb the tangles and water from the hair of the princess. When the hair dried, Lacy curled the long strands of brown waves and formed bun upon her head. Tears leaked from corners of Delsha's emerald eyes down upon her soft pale cheeks at the sight of her own beauty. Lacy then peeled rose petals from the fresh flowers adorning Delsha's chamber chest and placed them in a small crystal dish. She poured a small amount of oil and water over the red petals and with a brush swirled the concoction until the oil was thick with the smell of roses.

Lacy removed the princess' robe and used the brush to spread the fragrant smell of roses completely over Delsha's body. Delsha giggled and blushed.

"Lacy, it tickles!" Delsha said through a shiver and a smile. Lacy smiled back and continued her work.

There was a knock at the door and Lacy made shooing gestures. "Hurry! Get out of sight!"

Delsha ran wildly across her bedroom chamber into the washroom. Lacy went to the door and opened it revealing a tall lanky adolescent boy of fourteen. The boy was pale with red hair and freckles. As Lacy snatched open the door the boy quickly tried to hide the fact that his index finger had previously been in his nose.

Lacy ignored this fact and asked in a very annoyed voice, "What do you want, Jameson? The princess is in the middle of some very important decisions. Do you know that tonight is the Spring Festival? She must be properly prepared. This may be the night when she finds her true love, the future king of Grey Slate. Now state your business and be gone with you!" Lacy finished and crossed her arms to dot the exclamation point.

Jameson looked in the state of true terror. His eyes rolled in their sockets examining what his mind showed as a dire badger that must had opened the door. He scratched his hair and looked down the corridor for a means of an escape. Before he had a chance to move he was cut off.

"Speak!" Lacy roared at the poor runner. And out in a jumble came the boy's message.

"Lady Conabont, I carry a message from the King requesting Her Highness, the Princess Delsha's presence." The boy gave a far too late bow after saying the princess' royal name. "I am also to take note of when Her Highness will be able to attend the King in his Royal Chambers."

Lacy tapping her foot looked toward the washroom where Delsha had taken cover from the opened door. After deep thought and a likewise breath, Lacy turned back to Jameson. "Within the hour." Jameson started to relay his thanks but the door slammed closed in his face during mid sentence.

"Come out, Delsha," Lacy called in now a sweet patient voice. "We must be ready to present you to your father before the hour's end." Delsha came out in a hurry, a flurry of words in her wake.

"Oh, that was that fidgety little boy Jameson, wasn't it? I don't quite understand why father keeps him around. He will never be a knight, so lanky and goofy. Not at all a gentleman or even nice to look at. I will never understand father, he says that he is smart. I might even bring up Jameson's dismissal when I see father," Delsha said as if it were the most intelligent idea that ever fluttered up into her mind.

"Let's forget about Jameson," Lacy said with a sweet smile impressed upon her face. "We have much to do to get you ready. Your father will just be dazzled when he sees you. You may even be able to distract Ghent and Falgar from whatever it is that wizards do," Lacy said as she concentrated heavily on Delsha's hair. She then smiled in triumph. "My Lady, I think its time to get dressed."

Chapter 2: Father and Daughter

The midmorning wind blew its breath gently over the parapets and towers of the castle Gray Slate. A young man with a face chiseled from stone stood looking to the east from a balcony high above the bustling city below. The wind gently caressed his thick brown hair and caused him to slightly squint his emerald eyes. He turned his head as a much older man joined him.

The older man's hair was mostly gone, and that which was left was like white cloud. His skin was wrinkled from the long passing of years, but the power that resided in him was much more than a match for the younger man whose presence already occupied the balcony. The younger man turned and at the sight of the older man respectfully bowed his head and said reverently, "Master."

"Ghent." The old man said with a smile. "Such a lovely morning for such a lovely day." Ghent smiled and turned his face back into the wind. Both men were dressed identically. They wore a robed suit of blue trimmed with red with a long thick hood, and each carried in their hand a staff of thick old wood.

"Did you try any of old Marla's bacon and eggs this morning, Falgar?" Ghent asked.

"No, I had her portage, and a little more than that too, lad." Falgar said with a youthful mischievous smile.

Ghent laughed hard. "You old dog, married forty years and you two still run around like youths on Spring Festival. Or are you two reliving some memory of this day forty years past?" Ghent asked, his eyebrows rising in mock accusation.

"Lots of memories, boy, lots of Spring Festivals, every one a good one," Falgar said taking in a deep fresh breath of the morning's chilly air. "The King is anxious today," Falgar said switching topics and mood.

Ghent turned to face his old master intent on his words, playfulness gone. "Delsha's come of age. She is youthful, but between you and me not the brightest lass ever to carry a royal title. The King worries that she seeks too frantically for love. He worries whom she will choose to continue the royal line," Falgar said, his eyes never leaving Ghent's.

"It is her choice," Ghent said. "Besides there are many fine choices out there. Look at the Baron Vard's son, Vlalatice, an excellent soldier and honorable man. Many women also consider Vlalatice very handsome. There is also Duke Hector's son, Flinn, an excellent tactician."

Falgar shook his head. "This lass isn't interested in tacticians or honor. She wants love and that is the line that is causing the King worry." Falgar ran his hand across his cheek and chin. "Is security for the princess prepared for the night?" Asked Falgar.

Ghent gave a short nod of his head and twisted his staff in his hand. "Yes. Lord Tovit has ensured me his troops have secured the area. The Blaze Knights will accompany her throughout the evening."

Falgar wrinkled his brow. "I am sure we will have our duty here. The King didn't seem very up to dancing and celebrating."

"He is worried about the future of his kingdom," Ghent replied. "Plantyr has stood as a bastion of peace for a thousand years. He does not want anything to happen that may jeopardize that. Besides haven't you had enough fun already today?" Ghent teased.

The old wizard laughed gruffly. "What are you going to do when I'm gone, boy?" Falgar asked.

Ghent shook his head. "I don't know? I figure when something strong enough comes to take you it will probably take me too."

Falgar took a long quiet look into the blue depths of the spring sky. The sun had shadowed itself behind a large puffy white cloud, disguising itself in a solo game of pica-boo. The wind dropped its dance and all was calm and at peace. Falgar placed his old, but strong hand on Ghent's shoulder.

"The King is waiting for us, son. He wants us present when the princess arrives."

"Are we to be a show of force to his own daughter?" Ghent asked.

Falgar smiled, this time with no niceties, "the kingdom of Plantyr must remain with a balance of strength and peace if we are to continue with the present stability. She must know her place. The desires of her heart are forfeit when compared to the responsibility she will govern when ruling those of this land."

"That is true," Ghent said. "But, she is so young."

"And foolish," Falgar added. "Those traits must be washed away from her. They should have been worked on years ago, but the King wouldn't allow it. Now he may be regretting his decision of not giving her a stricter upbringing. She will begin her understanding today, like it or not," Falgar said, his face stern.

"It is time to go lad," Falgar said as he turned.

The two wizards walked off the balcony into a narrow hallway of smooth stone and marble. The heavy soles of their boots resonated a deep echo throughout the passageway. Jameson, the messenger boy rushed passed a cross section of the corridor just ahead of the wizards. Falgar smiled and Ghent shook his head and laughed with a curse. "That fool boy going to run himself into a wall one day and that will be his end," Ghent said.

"Don't be too quick to judge the lad, Ghent. I seem to remember another boy about his age once dashing about and tripping over his own knickers."

Ghent's face reddened. "Can we not revisit the past, master?" Ghent asked embarrassedly.

"Ghent, I have trained you into a fine wizard. I cannot even think of a challenge that you wouldn't be more the match of." The redness fell away from Ghent's face and was replaced with pride.

They turned right when they reached the cross section in the corridor following the route Jameson had taken. The hallway began to change. Leaving the plainness of the smooth stonework to the working of artisans. Worked within the walls were great deeds of Plantyr's past. There were displays of gallantry and battle, and ruinous paths that led to the dark times in the kingdom's history.

One scene depicted Korlan Marl and Norlan Lanfern, heroes of the ages, as they fought their way through the depths of the Temple of Dark Shadows to retrieve Terrin De Del Lutinii, the Goblet of Starlight. There was a painting of castle Gray Slate in its days of war against Faluvad and his dreaded Bull Witches. Times of wonder also made their presence. Beautifully adorned in gems were the Trees of Silver Light that stand on the edges of the world.

The wizards let these murals of history slide past without notice. They continued their march until they reached a grand door of oak lined in silver. At either side of the door stood a Blaze Knight, the elite warriors of Plantyr. Their shining silver armor was laced with images of red flame, which gave them their name. The two guards nodded at the wizards' approach and threw open the door for them. The wizards swept through quickly. The boom of the closed door echoed out behind them.

Morlen Dhargin, King of Plantyr and ruler of Grey Slate, sat tall on his throne made of silver and sapphires. His sharp black eyes watched intensely as he received his morning report from Lord Tovit, commander of the Blaze Knights. The King ran a wrinkled hand through the thick tangles of his white beard.

From the open terraces the wind swept in carrying the morning with it. Birds sang from nests nestled in the cracks of the battlements, and the sunlight streamed in bringing its brilliance. King Morlen turned his head, facing his attention to the two men who had just entered his chamber. He smiled warmly at his two wizards, and they replied with smiles even warmer. Words floated out of the Lord Commander's mouth, one word particular caused the old King's ears to twitch, and the word was princess.

"Lord Tovit, repeat that last thing you said, the thing about my daughter," the King said.

"My King, I said she will be perfectly safe. Her protection will be my finest men," Lord Tovit said with absolute confidence.

"Excellent, my old friend," the King replied. "Now, if you will excuse us I have much to discuss with the Protectors of the Throne," the King said using the proper title for the wizards at hand.

"Of course, My King," Lord Tovit said while bowing reverently. "I will make sure everything is in order for tonight."

Lord Tovit swiveled around, his red cape shifting like a whirlwind behind him and strode for the door. His armor burned bright like fire when it caught beams from the sun entering from a window. The Lord Commander strode by the wizards of the King and in a swift motion saluted them and gave them a respectful bow of the head. The wizards returned the respect and the salute and then the Lord Commander was through the door, the loud echo marking the absence of his presence.

King Morlen smiled brightly and rose from his throne to greet his protectors. "Thank you for coming so quickly, I'm sure Falgar that you did not have too much trouble locating Ghent on such a lovely morning such as this."

The two wizards smiled and came to halt a few feet before the King. They then in unison went to one knee bowing before their lord. The King asked them to rise and they did and proceeded to take turn clasping each other's hands.

"My King, we wait on your beckoning call, what is it that you desire from us this morning?" Asked Falgar.

The King smiled a sad worried knowing smile. "Ah, my Protector plays ignorance," King Morlen said playfully. "You know why you have been called Falgar, and I am sure you have informed Ghent as well. We have reached a crossroads, I have failed to bear a son and now the kingdom of Plantyr rests on the heart of a young woman who cares or understands nothing of the politics of ruling," King Morlen said.

"Surely her decision will not be too rightfully out of favor, My King." Ghent interrupted. "There are many fine choices to be had."

"And just as many rotten ones too," the King retorted. "Besides my young Protector, she knows of those that we wish for her. Knowing that she will look for other alternatives. She is young and that is the way of youth."

Falgar nodded his head. "Pray she does not take a liking to Baron U'tanga's son. A dangerous one he is, with the power of king he would mobilize every able body male and sweep forth, leaving a wake of carnage of everything in his path that did not submit."

"And probably those that did too," Ghent added.

Distress creased across the king's brow. "Then what should we do if she makes the wrong choice?" King Morlen asked.

"My King, who is to say that she will even make her choice tonight?" Ghent asked.

Falgar looked at his pupil and long time friend. "Ghent, my friend, she has been waiting for this night for years. She expects to find a great love tonight, and even if she does not find one, it is more than likely that she will fabricate it."

Ghent slowly nodded his head. "You are right master."

"Then what do we do?" The King asked.

"We must be patient. We must ride the night out and pay close heed to what she speaks of on the morrow. This is the only path open to us. We will make the decision on what to do when the time comes," Falgar finished as the hall's grand door boomed open.

In came Princess Delsha, her hair weaved with flowers. In came Princess Delsha with a smile that rivaled the stars' glow. In came Princess Delsha bouncing joyously up to her father. She swirled about when she reached him laughing with glee as her dress spun up to her knees. She giggled again and smoothed her dress down, knowing it improper for a High Lady of noble blood to reveal so much of herself.

The Protectors of the Throne bowed at her presence, but stern looks marked their faces, while glee danced upon her face. The King smiled and embraced her in his arms. He commented on her beauty and the ribbons that laced her hair. She knew not that they had spoken ill of her just moments before.

"Father!" Princess Delsha exclaimed, "isn't it wonderful? Today is Spring Festival. I can't wait, father. Tonight will be the most wonderful night of my life. I am going to find my prince, and I'm going to love him and he's going to love me and he will be so brave and forever we will be together and happy always, like in the stories." Delsha said in one breath. She was left gasping for air.

The gazes of the Protectors of the Throne grew grimmer and the King's smile faltered, replaced by a sad frown.

"My dear," the King started. "My dear, there are things that must be made clear to you. One is that I wish for you to have a joyous night. It is Spring Festival, a time for dancing and singing and rejoicing of the coming of the New Year. It is also your coming of age, a special time for any young woman, and more important for the daughter of the King." The voice of the King remained kindly as he changed topics to drive his point home.

"But my beautiful one, you must understand that love for anyone is difficult. It is an important event in anyone's life, be they man or woman, but love cannot be planned. Nor should it be rushed. Though some say love is blind, and others say that it is the most important aspect in a person's life, that does not always hold true to those of royalty," King Morlen said as he watched the expression on his daughter's face slip from happiness to a scowl.

"What are you speaking about, father?" The words drawled out from the princess' mouth.

"I am saying, my lovely Delsha, that your love should not be cast out in haste, nor should it be misplaced. When I am gone the one you choose will lead the kingdom. He must be an able leader, and just and wise and follow the path, which is right for not only those of Plantyr, but those of all the lands."

"You can't do this to me!" Delsha cried out. Her arm flung out in a wide arc pointing out the windows to the city far below. "My prince is waiting for me. He will be here tonight ready to accept my love, and we will be happy. Do you not care about my happiness, father? Why do you speak such things to me? It is my coming of age and you are trying to ruin it!" Delsha exclaimed in a strangled yell.

She turned to bolt, with tears streaming forth from her eyes. Her hands reached up to cup her crying face. Gurgles of pain billowed forth from her crossed fingers as she staggered forth to the chamber door. She made only three strides before she was commanded to stop.

"Princess Delsha, you will halt!" Boomed Falgar with a voice laced in wizardry. Delsha immediately stopped in mid stride, her arms falling to her sides. A gentle glow illuminated about her. Falgar had trapped her in a field of magic.

Falgar came forth leaving the King and his apprentice idle. He had served the King for too long to listen to anyone speak in his presence in such a manor, even if it be the King's own daughter. This child was wrapped too much in her illusion of love. She would have to prove stronger.

Falgar's face was iron darkness. The anger within it resonated like smoldering coals. "Here in the King's chamber you will speak with honor and respect. Never will you conduct yourself again as you have today. Are we understood, My Princess?"

Princess Delsha met Falgar's eyes and flinched as in pain. Her chin fell to her chest and she wept harder.

"Princess Delsha," Falgar said sternly. "You will meet my eyes."

She heaved once heavily, her chest inhaling as if gathering courage. Then slowly her head rose like a drawbridge preparing to guide the way for a battalion of Blaze Knights. Her reddened eyes met Falgar's. There was no defiance, only a young woman's pain.

"You will go to your father and kiss his hand. Then you will leave the royal chamber like a lady of Grey Slate," Falgar commanded.

Falgar let go of his magic shield and Delsha slowly crept her way back to the King. When she reached him she mildly grasped his hand and kissed it.

"Sorry father," she sheepishly said. Then raising her head in a struggled show of pride she walked smoothly and slowly to the chamber door and left.

Falgar turned back to his King, "I apologize, My King, if I over stepped my bound," Falgar said sincerely. "But as we were speaking before she must be put on the right path."

"You did well and you did right, my old friend," King Morlen responded. "It is I, who in my older age have grown soft. I lacked the heart to give her a stricter upbringing. After the death of her mother I wished for only those things that brought her happiness. I spoiled her even more than most royal heirs. She should have had you to guide her and give her strength, if that had happen we wouldn't be in this worrisome predicament we are in now."

"Don't worry, My King," Ghent gently said. "There truly are more good choices than there are bad. What are the chances she will choose poorly? And even a poor decision may not affect the kingdom in such catastrophic ways that we are forecasting. My King Morlen, what are the odds?"

The old King rubbed his face and as he peered out to his kingdom beyond the Throne Room's windows he muttered, "what are the odds?"

Chapter 3: The Approaching Stranger

In the distance, across the plains where green meets with rolling hill and trees with branches budding with blooming blossoms walked a stranger to this world. He walked on a path, not used except during the ancient times of the world when armies marched off to face battle and horror. The path was once a road, but since the dark days had fallen into ruin and was unkempt due to its lack of need.

The strange traveler walked, his neck bent forward and a great staff to help him surf the miles. He was cloaked, its color was deep brownish black and despite the heat he had its hood upon his head. The cloak he wore was worn thin, victim to miles unaccounted through roads that led down to darkness. At that moment the strange traveler stopped. His head slowly rose and his eyes spied the gleaming towers of Grey Slate, capital of Plantyr, in the distance.

The wind died about him, unwilling to touch his foulness, and swept in currents to the east to avoid his presence. The traveler removed his hood and that, which was displayed to the clouds and open wilderness about him was strikingly handsome. His face was strong and ruddy, caressed with a shade of black from his short beard. His hair was the same as his beard and his eyes were a gleaming glow of pale midnight. His eyes held pools of wisdom and swam with wrath like raging waves during a storm on the sea.

His head turned, taking in the scenes of calm and serenity brought forth by the gentle spring morning. He then resumed his march. Crumbled rock skidded across crumbled rock from the movements of his thick leather boots. His hood he replaced as in defiance to the sun, and the birds chirped, unaware of the doom that he preceded.

Chapter 4: Garden Thoughts

As the Throne Room's door boomed closed Delsha let go her prideful charade and fled down the corridor in search of refuge. She ran almost silently. Her soft slippers graced themselves across the deeply polished stone of the floor. Her dress, making small swooshing sounds, draped behind her as if a flock of trailing gulls.

She ran past several servants, and in their astonishment found little time to bow respectfully or gawk openly. They did both and many only remembered to bow after she was out of sight. Delsha's route through the high halls of the palace made her appear that she was twisting and turning down paths at random. Indeed it was partly true, she knew not where to go.

Should she return to her chambers and the comfort of Lacy? Maybe she would flee the tower, and Grey Slate altogether, making her way in the wild, being her own queen finding her own lands. She decided on a happy medium, and went for her personal gardens locked on a terrace on the north side of the tower. There she spent much time watching the sun ascend and set and the twilights that held the world in its awe.

The guardian of her garden saw her approaching and quickly unlocked the door. Delsha slowed shortly before the knight and spoke regaining some of her composure. "Thank you, Alixzan, you may rise," Delsha said to the bowing knight. The knight rose. He said nothing, only giving the daughter of the King silent respect. She entered her garden and the door was closed behind her.

A degree of comfort came to Delsha almost immediately. She was safe from her father, the King. More importantly, she was safe from the eyes and power of the Wizard Falgar. Delsha took a deep breath and let her eyes focus on the living beauty around her. Green was the color that mostly presented itself, and brown. Ferns, plants, and trees decorated a small path that led into the inner sanctuary of her garden. Beams of sunlight trickled down through the high arches of the branches letting the light caress the path like a soft rain.

Birds sang their songs and blue jays fluttered in the trees and humming birds drank nectar from flowers. There were squirrels too, climbing and chasing, letting their playfulness come out due to the niceness of the day. A rabbit, Delsha watched chewed blades of grass. Delsha had named it Bunsy, and it stared back and she smiled letting some of the heaviness fall away from her heart.

Delsha started her way down the path. The green life caressed the unclothed flesh of her legs and she let herself smile from the tenderness of it. The path curved slightly, weaving her deeper into the cascade of protection she had known since she was young. A cool scent arose to her now, and she inhaled it deeply. There was the touch of nature she longed for on the cool air, and it came in the form of tulips and roses.

She came forth from the shaded path of the trees and entered something that possessed much more beauty. There were seats carved from ivory, and tiles of marble and precious stones. On either side of the tiled sanctuary rose three marbled columns. Ivy was intertwined around their bases and climbed to their heights. Across the sanctuary there was a softly woven net of silk, which lay connected to the pillars bridging the gap of the open sky.

Within the silk net were flowers of purple, yellow, and orange hand placed carefully to give only the softest touch of sunlight to those below. Along each side of the sanctuary was a garden lined with tulips, and behind were neatly trimmed rose bushes. Of all the beauties of her sanctuary, Delsha treasured the crystal fountain placed in its center, which let its gentleness come out in soothing whispers of flowing water.

On top of the fountain there was a figure carved and crafted out of emeralds. Each emerald was hand picked and glorious, the emeralds shown bright at the coming of dawn and of night, bathing everything in a soft green light. The statue was of Klemyni; the God of Earth, and Delsha went to him now to thank him for the beauty of her garden. She bowed her head deep before the statue and said her prayer to her patron God that was lost in the battle of Rantarok.

Delsha's mind began to wander. Her thoughts drifted on clouds of high realms of dreams and romance. Her young mind let go her previous anger and disappointment and took its turn to her ambitions of the night. She would have to be on her best alert. The Blaze Knights, she knew would be about her and they would report all her tidings of the Spring Festival directly to her father in the morning.

She would have to think of something that would separate them from her. Delsha knew only on her own could she find her true love. The guards would be trained on what men were sanctioned by the King for her to court. Others would be turned aside.

Her mind began churning faster and faster, focusing harder on the past festivals of her life. She sought in her memories places that were less guarded, that given the right opportunity she could ditch her escorts. Her mind caught traces of thoughts of booths filled with games and prizes. Deeper she delved and the memory of tastes of food by the street vendors caused her to smile.

She continued deeper into the spiral of thick images that whisked by in her thoughts. She struggled harder, feeling that any moment her head would pop from the shear exertion that she used to think of a proper plan of action. Her mind throbbed, her hands became sweaty, until with one last push the avalanche of her being tumbled down to a screeching halt causing her head to sway and jerk.

She had it! Her face broke out into a gorgeous smile with her cheeks coloring pink and her eyes shining bright in her fantasy.

"There you are!"

Delsha spun at the unplanned intrusion of her thoughts. Lacy emerged from the wooded path and came to Delsha's side on the tiled floor of the garden sanctuary. Lacy smiled at Delsha, and Delsha abruptly threw her arms around Lacy in a gracious hug. Lacy was taken off balance by the unexpectedness of Delsha's action, and she giggled and returned the loving embrace.

"I have been looking for you," Lacy continued. "How did things go with your father?"

Delsha released her charge and friend and a frown resumed itself on her face.

"It was awful, Lacy!" Delsha exclaimed. "The wizards and my father teamed up against me to try and ruin the Spring Festival and my coming of age."

"They wouldn't dare do that," Lacy said shocked and disbelieving. "Your father surely must understand the importance of true love, I mean he is the King, there can't be too much he doesn't know. Besides, what else could he want? It is your coming of age, is it not? This night is meant for the princess to find her prince. Does he expect you to evoke all of your time in the thought of politics? That's a man's job, not business of a High Lady such as you. You will be too busy doing queenly things, like balls and parties."

"I think that is exactly father's point," Delsha said grumpily. "He wants me to choose a suitor that reflects his ideas of politics," Delsha said with scorn for the last word.

"What are you going to do? Won't you be surrounded by Blaze Knights all night?" Lacy asked incredulously.

"Yes, but I have a plan," Delsha said.

"What is it?" Lacy replied.

Lacy leaned closer as the Princess of Plantyr whispered her plans into the ear of her most trusted friend. Lacy beamed and smiled as Delsha's words unrolled into her ear. The two were then hugging thinking the plan would work.

Chapter 5: The Coming of the Storm of Doom

Far to the south of Plantyr lay a castle high on a craggy cliff. The castle was overshadowed by clouds of darkness and sat jutting just above the Raging Sea. Mist and the smell of salt water lingered high in the crumbling stone halls of the fortress Coldal Zenzoaran. Coldal Zenzoaran was the ancient enemy of castle Grey Slate during the dark days when war and evil lurked in every corner of the Ten Kingdoms.

Capital of the dark land Thoradorn, Coldal Zenzoaran had its strength shattered during the Battle of Ten-Thousand Swords, nearly a thousand years earlier. During that battle, the united allies of the north marched forth through the death trodden lands of the south. There, through much despair and horror, the northern armies reached the base of the Lightning Mountains, and were looked down upon by the dark shadow of the citadel fortress.

The fighting was fierce. The raining fire bolts of the Thoradorns and their dark allies from the sea hindered the ascent of the armies of light. When the Northern Armies reached the top of the mountains there was an army stretching out before them on the plateau. The Thoradorns were donned in black mail, and their swords and spears were black and cruelly shaped, and with them were beasts of horror that had risen from the depths of the Raging Sea.

As the two armies collided there was a thunderclap, and the dark clouds overhead opened up letting loose great torrents of rain and belched forth thunder and lightning. Steel rang on steel, and blood flowed, and there were loud cries from both the living and the dying. The great beasts from the sea ripped men to pieces with massive claws and feasted upon their flesh on the field of battle. Horror ruled the day.

Through numbers and the sharp brightness of their swords, the Northern Armies beat back their foes to the gate, Culfar, the steel manacles of the castle. Culfar was twisted and broken, and its ruin was smote and swept aside. The men of the north poured into the dark tower with the echo of the ringing of battle being heard throughout all of its halls. Blood ran thick, and victory seemed imminent, until Coldal Zenzoaran sent forth its last defense. Delved deep in mountains were the black dungeons of the fortress and from these pits of gloom and despair came the Golnar.

The Golnar were monstrous beings, thick with muscle with skin the color of tar. Twice the height of man and thrice his width, the Golnar wielded great axes and maces, and clubs that were barbed or spiked. They crushed the invading soldiers and pushed them forth to the still smoking gate of Culfar. There the armies of the north were saved by the speed and accuracy of their archers, and the Golnar fell like bloody pincushions.

Then the King of Thoradorn faced alone Vidar Wolfbane, Lord Commander of the Blaze Knights of Plantyr, and without words they fought a mighty duel in the high tower. There the King was slain and his body, Vidar threw off the tower and it plunged forth and was swallowed by the sea. Then Vidar Wolfbane cursed Thoradorn and its mighty tower Coldal Zenzoaran, and he called it Gardoth, which is the Dungeon of the Fallen Sea.

Afterwards, Thoradorn became a broken kingdom, and its citadel became empty and was filled with the memories of the dead. The tower fell to ruin and disarray, and the land's people were dispersed. Thoradorn held no strength of arms and all scratched out miserable means of existence. Small tribes formed and they bickered and fought endlessly, and the threat of Thoradorn fell out of memory for those of the North.

At last there was born a man from the line of ancient majesty. He grew strong and tall and the gleam that shown from his eyes were both bright and terrible. He learned well the strength of arms, and through battle he united the warring tribes of his broken land. He was soon proclaimed King, and his scepter was his black sword, and his crown his helm and he took up his kingdom in the high halls of the ancient tower called Gardoth by the rest of the world.

There in the dark dungeons of the fortress the webs of spiders were cleared out and begun again was the taming and breading of the monstrous race of the Golnar. The new Lord of Thoradorn sought out the King of the Raging Sea, and the old alliance they struck anew and quickly his forces became dark and powerful. His people named him Gardothan, which means the Black Lord of the Dungeons and the Sea.

The Black Lord quickly sent out his forces and swiftly they defeated the unwarned neighboring kingdoms of Aolnar and Fedriken. No word of war escaped their doom for Kraztagmolatch, the Goblin Peaks, and Solstar the High Mountain of the Stars sealed them from the outside. Their strength was added to the Black Lord's and those of Grakaur, the Goblin Tower, whom allied their strength to Gardothan. It was then when a man came to Gardoth, from roads unknown and presented himself to the Black Lord.

The traveler told naught from whence he came, but gave Gardothan much council and earned his trust. The man looked that of simple origin, and wore not clothes of wealth, but only carried with him his staff and named himself, Delaine Johastor. Delaine was wise in lore and fair of speech and with his cunning he enamored the Black Lord of Gardoth. Gardothan from then after kept Delaine at his side, and through Delaine's vast knowledge of politics and of the world they schemed, and Gardothan conceived a design and a plan that he believed to be wholly his.

Delaine then left the Kingdom of Thoradorn. He went out onto the little traveled passes to the north to pull the strings of their design tighter and to sew the seeds of destruction. Through the pass by Grakaur he went, and he was not hindered for the goblins sensed the fog of evil about him and they were afraid. To other kingdoms he came and won the respect and trust of their lords, though he wore different mantles and titles everywhere he went.

At last the southern parts of the world were woven under his spell and he traveled finally to the gem of his work. Before him rose the tall towers of Grey Slate, streaking towards the sky like fingers on the hand of justice and righteousness. Delaine smiled and crossed over into the lands of Plantyr. He traveled farther still until at last at the strike of noon on the first day of spring he reached the gates of the great city.

The guards searched him and questioned him, but they found no weapons nor perceived any evil, for Delaine was the master of charade. He then entered the busy streets and was lost in the current of the crowd. He ate and enjoyed the views of what surrounded him. He showed no evil, but was polite and courteous to all those he met, and he spoke to many and laid enchantments on them so that they would remember his name in fair favor.

Chapter 6: May Thou Find True Love

"May thou find true love," Lacy called after the princess as the gate of the King's Tower opened.

Delsha turned back and smiled and waved. Her hair bounced in tight curls behind her. She turned back and her guard of Blaze Knights circled about her with their armor shining bright in the rays of the sun.

"Are you ready, My Lady?" Lord Tovit asked Princess Delsha. She smiled and nodded.

"Open the gates," Lord Tovit told two sentries manning that post.

A great wheel began to slowly turn. Large linked chains clunked their way around the wheel letting loose loud rhythmic thuds. Before Princess Delsha and her guards rose inch by inch a massive iron gate. The gate was crisscrossed and wrought by the best smiths of ancient Plantyr.

When the gate had risen and the clinking of the chains ceased, the next gate began its unlocking. This gate was a combination of iron and solid oak. Great bars slid back and the gate opened inward, splitting its seem down the middle, welcoming the princess and her wards to the outside city streets. The group exited from the Tower of the King, and came forth to the street. Behind them the gates slowly began to close.

Princess Delsha was smiling and beaming, looking from face to face of her protectors. Several did not meet her eyes, and those that did gave her a polite smile and nod and looked quickly away. She sighed. Pleasant conversation would have to wait until later in the day when Lacy joined them at the start of the Festival. Lord Tovit saw the princess' attempt for conversation and broke into the circle to speak to her.

"My Lady," he started in his gentlemanly tone, which was quite soothing. "It is an honor to escort you on this finest of days of your young life. I hope that you will find our presence complimenting to your evenings events. I also hope that you will feel secure and free spirited to choose those activities this day presents. We are not here to hinder you, but to be the stabilizers that support the enjoyment of your night. If there is anything, anything at all that we can provide, which is in our necessary means to do, please do not hesitate to ask and your wish shall be granted." Lord Tovit said with a flourishing bow.

"Now, if we may, your highness?" Lord Tovit asked with his arm thrown wide open to the street before them.

"May I suggest the market first? It always has such a fine mixture of fine and exotic crafts," said Lord Tovit brandishing a grand smile, his cape blowing in the wind.

"Show me the way, Lord Commander," Delsha replied with a smile.

"Captain," Lord Tovit said in a gentle, but stern voice. "Proceed."

Princess Delsha and her armed escort of Blaze Knights began a leisurely walk east down the main street of the city of Grey Slate. The Blaze Knights marched slowly, but erect. Their faces were stern and their eyes sharp. Their hands never strayed far from the sword that was positioned on each of the knights' right hip. Nobody expected them to have to use those weapons during the Spring Festival, but they were prepared if such a result arose.

Princess Delsha mostly ignored the Blaze Knights now, with their soldiery ways. Instead she concentrated on the views and the smells of the city. She was beside herself in joy, not being allowed to leave her father's citadel often. This truly was a rare occasion for her, and she was determined to enjoy every moment of it.

Delsha had enjoyed the views of the fair city from her high towers and parapets, but down at the ground level was a wonder and an excitement all to itself. Delsha looked around looking at the buildings lining either side of the street. There were inns, which when a door was thrown open let loose a chorus of song and laughter. She imagined foam-flooded tankards of ale, joyous smiles and dancing.

She saw also street stands, with vendors selling everything from fresh produce to candlesticks. Multitudes of people walked the street dressed in all sorts of fashions and colors, when they noticed her and her guards they smiled and bowed and curtsied to her. Delsha was enthralled and smiled and waved heartily back. A forge they passed and Delsha felt the deep heat from the burning irons inside and could hear the hard rhythmic blows from a hammer.

She soon set her fixation on the street itself. While in her palace and tower she was used to smooth polished halls of marble and precious stones. Here the streets displayed none of that. They held no formal design, but were fit with mismatched pieces of cobblestone and brick. Delsha tried to imagine herself as an ordinary citizen, being able to travel and go into any of the city's establishments without care or armed protection. She found the idea wonderful.

She found Lord Tovit's eye and smiled at him. He smiled back understanding the young woman's thrill to be out of the palace and traveling the city like the common people of Plantyr. Delsha turned her attention back to the places of the street and found something that caught her eye.

"Lord Tovit?" She asked. "May we go to that small booth over there?" She said, pointing. Lord Tovit looked in the direction of her outstretched hand and saw an old woman dealing colorful beaded necklaces.

"Of course, Princess Delsha," he replied. The thought of the woman selling worthless overpriced beads, when the princess had all sorts of jewelry made of precious stones never entered his mind.

The group went over to the small booth. The old woman saw their approach and worry displayed itself on her brow. This made her think what she could have done to cause the heir of the kingdom to come over to her small pitiful booth. Princess Delsha smiled at the woman as she approached, causing some of the woman's worry to disappear. The woman smiled back and curtsied. She almost stumbled, for she was old and had not any reason to curtsy in many years. Delsha smiled broader and quickly upped her pace.

Delsha stopped in front of the booth and was quiet for a moment. The old woman gave quick nervous glances at the armed guards and then focused her attention on the princess.

"My Lady, you honor me with your presence, what can I do for you?" The old woman asked sincerely. Delsha let the woman's words hang in the air for a moment as she gazed down at the beaded necklaces lined carefully out on the small booth before her.

"Your beads are very beautiful," Delsha said. "Did you hand craft them yourself?" The woman gaped at the princess' kind words, considering her own beads junk compared to the glorious possessions the heir of the King must own. But, nether the less she was truly stunned by the compliment and a bright light shone in her old eyes.

"Yes, My Lady. I did them myself," the woman said bowing her head. Delsha's smile grew larger. She was enjoying this.

"What is your name?" Delsha asked.

The woman was again baffled. "Sasha, My Lady, my name is Sasha."

"Well Sasha, I think your beads are very pretty and I would like to buy that one." Delsha pointed indicating a shiny necklace with alternating green and yellow beads. Delsha turned her head and said, "Lord Tovit" indicating him to pay the lady for the necklace.

Sasha seeing this stuck her hands out and said sternly, "No, No!" and Delsha looked back shocked, her smile gone and her eyes slipping to anger.

Sasha did not notice the change in Delsha's expression, for she was bending down to retrieve the green and yellow necklace. Sasha gingerly picked up the necklace and held it out to the princess. "You do not pay here, My Highness," Sasha said. "Please, take this as a gift. You have paid me a price so high already by speaking to me and asking my name."

Delsha slowly removed the necklace from Sasha's hands. Her jaw had dropped. They departed without any more words. Delsha found herself looking back to the woman repeatedly before she became lost from view.

Thoughts of the old woman slipped away as new wonders of the city were presented. Delsha saw more small booths and obtained more objects that her father would smile at, but secretly think as junk. She had now a necklace, a scented candle, a small wooden carving, and a street map of the city. Delsha was enjoying herself though, and that was what was important.

Delsha and her protectors rounded a corner and she was astonished at what she saw. The entire city block had been closed down. Covering the street were tables laden with goods. There were shoppers and hagglers, and shopkeepers bellowed out how inexpensive their wares were.

Delsha's thoughts raced in her excitement. She darted off to the first table with her guards following quickly behind her.

"Welcome to the festival's market," Lord Tovit whispered into Delsha ear. Delsha beamed as her eyes scanned everything.

There were toys and dolls carved of the finest wood. There were fruits and vegetables brought fresh from the outlying farms. There were also goods of honey and fresh fudge, and thick pies of meat and fresh fruits. Delsha eyed all of the foods hungrily. Realizing she hadn't eaten since early in the day she purchased and quickly finished a hunk of white cheese and slice of fruit pie.

She moved along to more tables as she licked the crumbs from her fingers. A deep breath she had to take realizing she could not buy everything she saw, but she wished she could. Her heart raced now, a freedom she felt. She could smell the sweat on passerby's bodies, instead of the thick perfumes she usually smelled in her father's court.

Everything was too much for her. She knew that this was going to be the greatest night of her life. The pieces were falling together. The happiness that she sought was just around the corner. Calic and Kord were somehow watching over her and with their guidance, love was going to be brought straight into her lap. She said a quick prayer of thanks and ran happily to another table.

Chapter 7: Visions of the Future

Falgar wildly threw open the door of the King's chamber. In the clamor the guards stationed throughout the throne room drew their swords halfway from their sheaths before they realized who had entered. Falgar's face was stone. His eyes were frigid fire.

"Knights of Plantyr, out!" Falgar bellowed. "I must speak to the King, alone."

The King stood up from his throne. Never had Falgar made such an entrance into his chambers and spoke in that manner before him. The Blaze Knights looked at their King, not knowing that they should leave him unattended with Falgar in his fury. The King looked back at his protectors and for a long moment he was silent. When he spoke, he said, "Do what he asks, my brave knights. My wizard and I must hold private counsel."

Slowly the Blaze Knights of Plantyr left the King's throne room. As they passed, the knights either looked not at the wizard or met his gaze with mistrustful looks. Falgar waited until all the guards had left and the great door boomed closed behind them. Then he turned and sped towards the door, and his ear he leaned against it, to make sure none stayed to listen to the words he was to tell his King.

Falgar turned his gaze back to his lord, and King Morlen looked at him queerly. "What is the meaning of this violent intrusion, my old friend?" King Morlen asked with the hint of caution in his voice. Falgar came closer and the cold fire fell from his eyes.

"I am sorry, My King," Falgar started. "I have just beheld a grave vision of the future. There is a dark storm looming on the horizon, darker than any the Ten Kingdoms have ever faced before. I fear it will consume us and sweep us under into oblivion, like some dark rolling tide," Falgar's voice softened and faltered.

"What have you seen, Protector?" The King asked cautiously.

"I saw darkness. Great thickness of darkness, like waves of a black sea. The sea turned to blots that thickened the land like some dark forest. But the blots were soldiers, thousands and thousands of them, as if all living men had taken up arms. The violence was horrid, the dead were swept up and piled in great heaps, and fires burned charring the day sky black. The sun fell from the sky and the stars fled, and the moon remained, but was red like blood. Then there was nothingness and a great laughter that consumed all." Falgar's eyes lifted and met the gaze of the King, and King Morlen noticed the rekindled fire there.

"How soon is this to take place?" The King softly asked in his fear.

"I don't know," said Falgar shaking his head helplessly. "Maybe ten years from now or maybe before the year is out. There was no timeline, only I felt that this was a pressing danger, more pressing than any vision I have had before."

"What do you advise? Do you believe that the elements of this vision are already in motion? Has there ever been ways to forestall such visions in the past or are they all set in stone?" Asked the old King, his hand stroking his face.

"Not all visions are set in stone," Falgar began, his eyes peering inward concentrating on the words he spoke. "Some never come to pass, but most seem to happen, even if it is in a way one did not expect. We must be patient, My King. For one of the direst mistakes is to act rashly, though sometimes that is the saving course. What I mean is to not act is futile, but to act incorrectly..." Falgar words began to falter. "Sometimes ushers in the event one was striving so desperately to avoid," Falgar finished.

"So, it all comes down to luck then," King Morlen said. "Do we choose the right course or do we fail and go into the nothingness of this storm you have seen?"

"Lucky or unlucky, we must prepare our defenses. It will be ultimate doom to be caught in the storm with no shelter," Falgar said.

The King nodded his head in agreement. As the day grew longer the two whispered more together in fear and doubt. The city people below went along with their day unaware and happy. And Princess Delsha crept happily closer to the doom of worlds.

Chapter 8: Spring Festival Mid-Evening

"There you are!" Lacy cried out in joy. Lacy threw her arms around Delsha's neck as the two embraced. "I have been looking all over for you," Lacy said. "Where have you been?" She asked.

Delsha's eyes brightened looking at her friend. She was what Delsha needed to make this experience so much greater, a friend to talk to.

"Lacy, you wouldn't believe how great a time I've been having. I've met so many people and everyone has been so nice to me. It has been wonderful."

"Well, you are the princess, of course people are going to be nice to you," Lacy said with an obvious tone in her voice.

Delsha's expression soured for a moment as she looked at her life long friend, and then she let it pass and resumed her happiness. "Do you want to see everything that I got at the market?" Delsha asked her hopes soaring.

"Yes! What did you get?" Lacy replied ecstatically.

Delsha proceeded to show Lacy everything she had obtained at the market and the two young women giggled and chattered about every little item. In the distance the sun was starting its journey to set, and Lord Tovit urged them on to the ceremonies.

"My Lady, we must be moving. You are expected for the start of the festival. There will already be a large crowd gathered and all will be there for you. Remember, this is a big day for you, but also for those of Plantyr. This day affects them all, and many believe you might choose the future king tonight. So please, let's get going, Highness," Lord Tovit finished.

Princess Delsha sighed for being interrupted while trying to show her friend her new possessions. But, she knew Lord Tovit was right, and she must be moving on. Besides, she knew in her heart that what lay in store for her the rest of the evening would dwarf the meager items she had obtained at the market, and by morning she would probably be so in love that all her thoughts would forget such trivial things. Delsha looked at Lacy and smiled at Lord Tovit.

"Let's go," she said.

Delsha and her guard moved onward. They traveled down street after street with the moving crowd like a stream heading out to sea. When they reached the Festival Square the day was moving towards twilight and the street lamps were being lit and the game booths and all the windows in the inns were lit with candles. The crowd was thick in the Square and the Knights of the Red Dawn, the lesser rank and most numerous soldiers of Plantyr, helped make a path for Delsha and her Blaze Knights.

The Knights of the Red Dawn led Delsha forth to a platform located in the rear of the Festival Square. There a man was addressing the crowd. He spoke to them of the night's events and he told them stories and jokes and all were put in good humor. As he spoke he turned and saw the soldiers escorting the princess through the crowd, and he announced her and the crowd cheered.

"And yes, here comes now our guest of honor. If I may, I would like to introduce to all of you, fine citizens of Plantyr and Grey Slate, the Daughter Heir of the Throne, Princess Delsha," the speaker said.

The crowd stood high on their toes and some jumped, and children were put on shoulders for just a glimpse of her. Princess Delsha felt nervousness tense through her. She was overwhelmed by the response, and she forgot her fear and waved happily. They waved back and she smiled and giggled, and Lacy beside her grabbed her hand in excitement.

Delsha was taken directly to the platform. When she stepped foot on it and turned towards the assembled people of her land their cheer renewed and came in greater strength. This time Delsha was struck with a dumbness of awe and shock, for the multitude of faces was more than she had imagined.

And now she stood before them all, elevated in full view of all eyes and expectations. Her head swam from the overwhelming power of it and she grew faint, but Lord Tovit saw this. He came forward and put his arm around her as if leading her to the front for a proper introduction. But he whispered into her ear and gave her confidence. He supported her so she did not fall.

When Lord Tovit had brought her to the front of the platform he spoke to her once making sure she was ready. Delsha nodded indicating that she was, and with that he turned to the crowd.

"Citizens of all Plantyr," he began, "I am Lord Commander of the Blaze Knights, General of the armies of Plantyr, and military advisor to King Morlen, himself." Cheers and applause rose up for this introduction. "I come before all of you on this happy day with a duty more important than those previously mentioned. I come here as the body guard and escort of Princess Delsha, Heiress to the Throne, on this most special day, her coming of age."

With this the crowd simply erupted. Men and women danced and waved their arms, most had been drinking since well before midday. Gently, Lord Tovit moved Delsha before him so that she could greet the crowd. No great speech was expected from her, she was young, and they just wanted to hear her voice.

"My people," Delsha started, her voice faltering only a small bit. The gathered crowd roared and Lord Tovit nodded his head in approval. Lacy jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

"My people," Delsha said again, but this time with more force and confidence. "Thank you for coming, I'm so glad to see all of you," the Princess said. The crowd roared again. "It is my coming of age today, and I'm really happy." Delsha put her fingers in her curls. "I'm fifteen, finally!" She exclaimed and bobbed her head a bit. "And I hope to find my prince tonight." Then she waved and walked away from the front of the platform.

The crowed roared a third time. Delsha went back across the wood planks to a waiting Lacy, who jumped about her screaming happily. Delsha jumped a few times too. The crowd cheered for a few more minutes then they started heading to other events. There were plenty of games to play and music to dance to. Many went into nearby inns to get another whiskey, ale, or more wine.

Lord Tovit came near to Delsha and smiled at her. "You did very well," he said. "All the people really enjoyed hearing your voice, and I'm sure the young men enjoyed the view."

Delsha blushed at this, but enjoyed the thought. A thought entered her mind. "Do you think father heard me? I mean did he come to the gathering disguised or something?" She asked.

Lord Tovit chewed over his lip and then slowly shook his head. "No, he wasn't here. He is getting too old to come to these events. I do think Ghent came though, and he will surely report word for word what you told the crowd. Your father will be proud that you stood before so many people."

Delsha let this comfort roll over her and she was glad. She looked up at Lord Tovit and gave him her best smile. He returned it and urged her onward. There was much to do before the night was done.

Chapter 9: Knocking into Destiny

Ghent left the square and went back to the King's Tower. The sun was sinking low in the sky and its last rays glittered on the battlements and spires of the city. Overhead the sky was an orange fire, a sweeping canvas of flushed oranges, pinks, and reds. Ghent rushed forth hurrying to reach his King, so he could return to his watch over the princess.

The crowd was thick, like a marching army moving to thwart him from passing to the citadel beyond. Ghent silently chanted a spell, a small twinkling light flashed once and wove itself about him. Without realizing what they were doing the townspeople instinctively moved out of the wizard's way. Ghent's power was strong and it was able to nudge all those before him from his path.

So, the wave of ranks broke, and Ghent snuck through the collapsing tunnel unhindered as he made his way back to the tallest tower in Grey Slate. The remaining light began to falter, and shadows marked their ways across the city's buildings. One by one the towers of the strongest bastion in the north fell into shadow. Long did the King's Tower stay lit, and it burned like a pinnacle of hope for the rest of the world. Then the dim red fire fell from it too, and the towers were lost in the darkness.

Light did rekindle itself on the surface of the streets. Great lamps were lit and candles filled every window. Joyous laughter rang out and the darkness was not held as evil. Ghent continued to move along. The crowd began to thin, but still he clung to his spell, not wishing any hindrance between him and King Morlen.

Ghent moved on, his mind moving in all directions of thought. His vision became unfocused and he moved like a man in a trance. As he reached the sight of the King's Tower's gates the crowd had dissipated completely. Still his spell lay wrapped about him, expelling all to his wake.

His mind floated, and this enabled him from seeing the two shadowy cloaked shapes standing in the middle of the cobble stone road. Before he realized it, Ghent collided with the cloaked shapes knocking all three to the ground. Ghent, tripping over legs and arms, sprawled forth on his stomach and face. All three rapidly stood up. The two shapes moving more quickly to secure their wrappings about their heads.

Ghent felt embarrassment rising within him. As he rose to his feet he quickly apologized to the cloaked shapes and hurried more quickly to the tower. When he had gone about twenty yards from the collision, he stopped. Realization came to him that his spell had failed to move the two individuals, which he had run into.

He turned his head back towards the way he had just come. The two shapes still stood there still as statues. One was the height of a man, the other the height of an adolescent boy. They stood staring at Ghent and neither was unnerved by Ghent's returning stare. Ghent tried to let it go and turned and took a few more steps to the tower, but quickly stopped again and turned back.

The figures still looked his way and for a moment Ghent thought he saw the eyes from the taller one glow. The glow was green and sickly, and before Ghent could truly decide if he saw this light it vanished and the shapes turned and walked away. Ghent stood there motionless watching them go, and then he turned and went to his King.

Chapter 10: Whispers in the Dark

"Was that one of them?" A queer slithering voice asked quietly.

The smaller cloaked shape looked up at the taller one waiting for an answer. The answer came in the form of a single nod. The taller shadowy shape stopped and asked a question of its own. "Are all the plans in position, Thorrg?"

Thorrg looked up and his cowl of his cloak fell away revealing a green face. It was not the green Ghent had seen though, for Thorrg's eyes were black and multileveled like those of an insect.

"Yes, master." Thorrg replied in his slithering reptilian voice.

The tall shadow peered down at Thorrg looking over the rounded green face that displayed no visual mouth.

"Good. See to it that all unveils itself as I have wished. You have to make sure the 'surprise' is awake and angry."

"All will be ready for you, master," Thorrg said reassuringly.

"Now, go. I must rid myself of this cloak and let these people see my splendor," said the tall shadow.

"Do you really think she will fall in love with you, my lord?" Asked Thorrg. "I mean she is a princess and you are what you are," Thorrg's voice faltered slightly as the tall shadow peered down at him. But there was no anger in the look, only amusement.

"I will be the man of her dreams, my little pet. Do not ask me too many questions or you may foul my humor," the tall shadow said. A green glow emulated out from his eye sockets and Thorrg shrank back in fear.

Thorrg looked away, but his curiosity was not yet sated. "Do you think He will ever come back?"

The tall shadow stopped. His eyes peered forward and looked out into nothingness, but they searched realms that Thorrg could not dream of.

"The Dark Lord is gone, along with his Prince. They faltered and were defeated. The rest of them are gone too, defeated on the fields of battle. All fell, even our enemies, that was a battle too great and terrible for any to escape," the tall shadow said, his voice distant.

"Then how did you escape it, my lord?" Thorrg asked.

Fury rose up in the tall shadow, his eyes burned green and venom hissed from his mouth. "Because, I was not there," the shadow lied. "If you ask me any more about this I shall resurrect U'Tun and feed you to it! Do you understand me, fool?"

Thorrg nodded. "Now, go!" The shadow commanded, and Thorrg fled. He rushed off into the night avoiding the light brought forth from candles and lamps and unnoticed he left the city. Once he was from the stonewalls of Grey Slate he turned west and came to the neighboring forest called the Iron Wood, which even through the peace of the north, brave men did not to enter.

The Iron Wood was a place of legend. Myths stemmed from the breath of Grey Slate's creation. It was told to the young of the city and to all those of the north that it was a place of great evil. It was believed that it was inhabited with monsters, and they would show themselves with the coming of the end of the world.

The Iron Wood was also called a place of magic. Stories told about the Iron Wood around fires during autumn spoke of entrances there to other worlds. Enchantments lingered there and through them mist appeared and once one entered the mist there was no telling where one would end up. As many tales that there were, and through all their modifications, one thread was always the same, and that was the belief of the Lord of the Cave, and his undying companion.

Thorrg rushed now, through dark tangles of vines and branches of Iron Wood. Overhead the sky vanished and the stars fell, but he hurried on. The moon became flame, and its size expanded and swelled until it too was lost. Darkness became everything, but that word was insufficient to the absence of light that availed in Iron Wood.

Thorrg soon felt dampness. It was true that sweat trickled from his brow from his hurrying, but the dampness came not from that. The Mist was upon him and he ran faster. The wetness from the Mist became hot and sticky and Thorrg knew he had come to his destination. There he stopped, and was soon swallowed by the Mist.

...

The tall shadow waited patiently as he watched his servant disperse from the light of the city, then he too sought the darkness. There in the shadows of the city walls he sent away the shadows that clung to him. He threw open his cloak and manifest himself into his diplomatic image.

He smiled and it was bright and pleasant. His hair was combed neatly, and his eyes held the essence of love and happiness. He came out of the darkness and bumped into a drunken passerby. He apologized to the man and the two shared a joke and a shake of hands.

The Shadow, that was not a shadow any longer moved forth. His boots clicked on the stone street and a gentle breeze blew back his cloak. It streamed behind him like a cape of some majestic king in times of legend. He laughed aloud and the sound was fair. He saw more people and asked which way to the festival. They pointed, and he went the way of brightening lights and echoing laughter.

Chapter 11: Spring Festival

The sounds of fiddles radiated throughout the air. Feet stomped and hands were clapped as men and women, young and old, danced their way through the night. Swirling girls' dresses floated high and boys stood and stared in amazement over their more lovely counterparts. All were gleeful, and the music was energetic, the dancing was riveting, and all were happy and content.

Beyond the concentration of dancing couples were groups of men and women. Boys flirted with girls. Girls whispered in each other's ears. The older men stood in circles together laughing over mugs of ale and wine. Beyond that were booths filled with games, and the children ran happily about with their newly won prizes. Parents called after them issuing words of warning, but they too enjoyed the spectacle.

Princess Delsha scanned the festival and also was happy with what she saw. She stepped back suddenly as two blonde haired boys ran by chasing each other. Delsha smiled and looked at Lacy who returned the smile. Both brought their attention back to the festival at hand.

"Where do you want to go first?" Lacy asked Princess Delsha.

Delsha thought the question over for a minute. Her face crunched up in concentration, and her nose wrinkled as if it itched. Her eyes looked over at all the dancing couples and her thoughts instantly leapt there. But, nervousness took her, and the self conscious attitude of being only fifteen filled her. Her eyes then traced the steps of the running boys and her child self took over.

"Let's play some games first," Delsha said, her eyes glowing.

Lacy feeling her friend's uneasiness over the dancing put out her hand.

"It'll be fun," Lacy said. Delsha looked at it for a moment. Then with a look up at Lacy's understanding eyes, Delsha took her hand and the two went off to play children's games.

The two observed several of the games before deciding where they would go first. The games were crowded, filled with smiling faces of children. Of the games that did not seem as popular, the game conductors bellowed out in loud voices their games and told those who went by to step up and play. Delsha turned to one of these first, as the game conductor yelled that it only cost, "two corcels" his voice drawing out the second word.

Delsha turned to him and said, "I would like to play, sir." The man smiled and asked for her two corcels before he realized by her guard, who he was dealing with. He bowed suddenly, and it was a clumsy act, for the man had already drank his far share of ale earlier that day.

"No, My Lady," his words slurred out. "You don't pay here, please step up and play." Delsha almost expected him to burp afterwards, but to his credit he didn't.

"Now, the purpose of this game is to roll these dice, and if you roll higher than what I roll, you win. Get it?" He asked, looking at her and trying to smile without looking too drunk. "We both get three dice," he continued. "One die has six sides," he said pointing at the first of the wooden dice. "This one has ten sides," he said picking up another. "And this one here has four," the game conductor said rolling a two on the last die.

"You can roll them all at once, or you can roll them separately. I prefer to roll them sep-arately," he said hiccupping the word. "But, you may roll as you wish," the conductor said, not realizing he had made a rude bodily sound to the princess of the kingdom. "Now, since you are the player, and I am the conductor you must roll first. Okay?"

"Okay," the princess replied. "But, what do I get if I win?"

The game conductor looked around his cramped, unorganized booth for something to answer that question.

"Well, let's see here. If you beat me, I will give this, um, this pendant." He said holding up some old pendant that had rust at its edges that the man probably found dropped in the mud years earlier.

The princess, not concerned on winning the prize, but more interested in playing the game acted interested in the old worthless pendant to make the man feel better about performing his game with her.

"Okay, I'm going to roll now." Delsha said to herself as much to the man running the game.

"Good luck, Delsha," Lacy said intensely.

Delsha cupped the three wooden dice in her hand, and swirled them together for several long moments. Then in a quick, jerking motion she let loose the dice and spilled them onto the wooden planks of the table. She rolled a three, nine, and a one. Delsha cringed her face for a moment, then smiled thinking her hand not half bad.

"A good roll," the game conductor responded honestly. "A thirteen, now it's my turn to try and beat you." The game conductor picked up his own dice. In his left hand he cupped all of his dice, but rolled with his right hand. He rolled the six-sided die first. It twirled from his hand hitting the table's wood and bounced several times before landing on five.

"Well, so far I have you beat by the score of two," he said to the princess as if he was not surprised. "I only need eight more to tie you, and if that's the case I win." He said, finally remembering to include that rule. Delsha did not pay heed to what he said. Instead she closely watched the two remaining dice positioned in his hand.

The conductor's right hand swooshed again, moving rapidly. His beady sweaty eyes stared at it moving, almost willing it to do a good roll. The ten-sided die came out. It stopped on a four. The man flinched, and cursed under his breath and did the best he could to cover it up with a cough.

"Well, it seems you have the upper hand. I'll have to get a four on this last roll to tie you," he said looking at the last die in his left hand. He lifted the die to his mouth and blew on it, and whispered words of encouragement. The words coming out of his mouth made him lose his concentration and the die tumbled forth unwarranted.

The man cursed, this time aloud, with no cover up, and was about to call the roll unfair. But to his surprise it landed on a four, tying the princess, making him the victor. He cheered and pumped his fist in the air. He turned to gloat over the princess, but the words stuck in his throat.

Princess Delsha stared at him empty eyed, but that was not the cause for the fear that had instantaneously arose in him. Lord Tovit glared at him, along with the rest of his Blaze Knights. Some even let their hands slip to the pommels of their swords. The game conductor turned pink, and after a good long look into Lord Tovit's eyes he turned back to the princess.

"Um, best out of three, My Lady?" He said sheepishly, and after that the rolling continued with the conductor displaying a little more class.

...

Delsha moved on and played several more games, before Lord Tovit intervened and suggested that she go meet and dance with some of the proper suitors. Princess Delsha blushed at this, and at her side Lacy smiled. Together, Delsha and her band of escorts made their way back to the dancing area.

Delsha soon came to realize that there were two areas for dancing, not just one. She watched the one she had seen before, but this time Lord Tovit did not hesitate. He ushered her forth and they passed the common people in their ordinary festival day clothes and came to a spot where aristocrats spun in gowns and suits fit for a ball in one of the great halls of the King's Tower.

There Delsha noticed a long line on young men handsomely dressed, that were of her age and older. These were her suitors, whom had come to win her heart and with it the throne of the Kingdom. Lord Tovit stood at her side now, directing her onward. Behind her the Blaze Knights fanned out in a display of strength and honor. All moved out of the way and bowed and curtsied.

The dancing here stopped, and all eyes were directed towards the young princess. She held her head high, but her cheeks flushed red. Lord Tovit stopped before the line of suitors, and Delsha and her train stopped with him. Before the princess the suitors bowed as one.

Princess Delsha looked down the line of young men. Some of the men caught her eye and she deemed them handsome. Others she thought were not even dance worthy.

Something caught Delsha's eye through the stillness of the aristocratic people. Shortly behind the men Delsha had come to meet stood a simply clad man. His arms spun like the blades of windmills and from his hands circled five shiny apples. Delsha could not help but smile, for a simple juggler had become more interesting than a horde of sons of barons and dukes.

The juggler caught the apples and Delsha's smile in stride. He returned it with one of his own. Delsha looked down and when she looked back up the juggler was gone. Her thoughts slipped away from the entertainer and came crashing back to the present situation as Lord Tovit was introducing her to a Baron's son, which both of the names she missed.

She curtsied and they bowed and both tried to out do the other in simple conversation. Delsha had to admit that she was bored. Lord Tovit, sensing her displeasure moved her on to a son of a Duke. This new boy was a few years older than Delsha, and she had to admit that she found him handsome indeed. As she was introduced a violin strummed up, followed by an orchestra of other instruments. The duke in waiting, stuck out his arm and asked her to dance, Delsha happily accepted.

The crowd that had taken up the dance parted for the two as they made their way to the center. Those around still danced, but all eyes were on Princess Delsha. The music was soft and beautiful. The melody floated in the air soothing the important and ambiguous festival-goers.

Then the music stopped, and with a flourishing bow the young man, whom Delsha had danced with, took her hand and softly kissed it. Approval made its way through the crowd as they clapped politely in response. Delsha flushed and was led back to Lord Tovit with red cheeks and a dizzy feeling in her chest. She looked back at the young duke's son and said, "Aaron, I will remember you." He smiled and she was introduced to more waiting men.

Delsha danced several more times. Each time the crowd parted as it had during her first dance. The young woman found being the center of attention exhilarating. Several of her dance partners excited her and others made her wish for a quick song. As she danced she began piling up a list of faces and names in her mind of those being worthy enough to consider being her prince.

With all the excitement that she was experiencing she felt that these young men were somehow not right for her. A whisper crept at the back of her mind but she could not seem to grasp it. And several more times her thoughts were brought over to the simple juggler, who seemed to be out of place among the aristocracy, and yet not out of place at all.

The night continued and her thoughts swept back and forth like an ocean tide making its way into shore then retracing its steps back to the openness of the sea. The night was waning, and though she had enjoyed her coming of age she felt that it had not lived up to the image that had been placed in her head. She thought of her plan of escape and how it seemed to be folly now, especially since Lacy was flirting with several young men that had been attracted by her beauty.

Princess Delsha soon found time to break away from the young men due to an intermission by those playing instruments for the court's pleasure. Many of the suitors broke away and spoke amongst themselves, knowing each other well from their training at the military academy there in Grey Slate. The princess was offered a cool glass of wine from a serving girl and took it, hoping that Lord Tovit would not notice or report she was drinking the wine to her father.

Delsha sipped at the wine gingerly. The taste to her was horrid, a sweet tang that she found both burning and sour. She looked around at the happiness about her and became suddenly sad. Many fine men she had met, but none seemed to be what she had wanted. Love, she believed, would not find her tonight.

As her thoughts slipped away, and as the wine was sipped away, she felt a presence and a dim shadow cast over her. As she looked up the music began once again. The music was soft, sad, and beautiful. The strumming of a harp floated forth its melody and the sweet song of a slow violin coursed through the cool night air. The princess' eyes rose and met the handsome eyes of the stranger she had seen before juggling the apples.

"You look as beautiful as the red dawn, My Lady." The stranger said bowing and lightly grasped her hand and brought his lips softly to it. "I am Delaine. I am but a simple man, but I will give you the stars," Delaine said gesturing to the sky above. "If you will give me your heart," Delaine finished, and he swept his hand forward and with a smile a small blue light appeared in his hand, which he held offered to Delsha.

Delsha smiled in delight and reached forward and took the blue flame. It was small and cool and did not burn. She brought it up to her face in wonder and then the light slowly faded out. Shock and misunderstanding registered on her face. Delaine laughed gently and softly.

"That is not a real star, of course." Delaine said with a handsome smile. "That was only a glow ball, a trick I've picked up over the years of my travel," Delaine said taking back the ball, and placing it somewhere deep in his cloak.

"Real stars are much harder to come by," Delaine said gently moving her away from the crowd. Princess Delsha had already forgot about everybody else. Delaine gave her another warm smile and continued his story. "I heard long ago, at a campfire lost in the side of the wilderness, that there is a legend of a place where the stars are attainable." Delsha looked at him with awed wonder, and he continued.

"There is a place, on a world far from here called the Mountains of Frost, it is a world that is blue and bright, and cold from its thick layers of ice. There the stars are always closest. High in the mountains there is said to be a tower that is tall, and is the height of a mountain itself. It reaches up to the sky, standing against the falling snow and reaches the heavens that brim with stars. It is said that stars guard that place, and they watch over it. And it is said," Delaine began to deliberately slow his speech, "that if one were to stand on that tower's highest precipice, that he could reach up and claim a star for his own." Delaine finished looking softly into Delsha's eyes.

"That's wonderful," Delsha barely audibly gasped. Her voice came out like a thin stream of smoke.

"My Lady," Delaine's voice spoke with fake nervousness, "If you give your heart to me I will seek out this land and bring to you the brightest star, so that you may wear it on your brow and all in all the worlds will bow down to your glory and beauty."

The weave of magic slipped tighter around the young girl and she became lost and drunk in it.

"Yes," she said dreamily. "That would be so wonderful." Her breath was jagged as if her body was undergoing extreme amounts of pleasure.

Delaine smiled at her, a smile she did not see, a smile that would have caused her to scream if she had. Delaine stopped her, they were far away from the crowd, and he knew her guard would soon discover her missing. Delaine held out his hand to her.

"Will you go back and dance with me, My Lady?" Delaine asked. Princess Delsha quickly looked at him, and saw the most handsome man she had ever seen.

"Of course, I will." Delsha smiled and the two went hand and hand back to dance.

There was a deep murmuring as the two broke the circle of the crowd. A murmuring that was a rippling of shock and disappointment. Princess Delsha did not hear the disapproval, she saw only before her a man fit to be a prince, and king of the land. The music hastily broke off, but as the two started to dance to the music in their heads, despite the stunned silence, the musicians decided they might as well play anyway.

The theme that was played was unbeknownst to the crowd a foreshadowing of doom. Delaine knew the song and smiled because of it. Delsha thinking the young man was smiling at her smiled back. Delaine's smile in turn grew and intensified due to her ignorance.

The song was, "The Fall of the Moon." It was about the story of the Moon Blood Tower, a place in a world long forgotten to those of the Ten Kingdoms. It was said that the Moon Blood Tower was once a place of beauty and renown. Heroes of many wars had marched from there in the days before its darkness. The Tower of Moonlight, it had been called, and it was like a beam of shining silver, that daunted all of its enemies.

A wandering prince had come to the shores of the Bay of the Moon, which lay before the tower and its entire splendor. The prince was battered and claimed to have lost his men due to a shipwreck caused by some great beast that was an offspring of U'Tun. There the prince recovered from his wounds at the care of the daughter of the king. She, through the time of his healing fell in love with him and soon they were married. But, the prince was not as he seemed, for he was really a Demon Lord from the Dungeon of Mashutol, the ancient enemies of the Tower of Moonlight.

Then when the time of his plan was ripe the Demon Lord threw open the gates of the Tower of Moonlight and his hidden armies came forth into the city and slew all. Then as the princess watched her people's doom, the Demon Lord came to her and revealed his true self. And she named him in that hour of doom, the Deceiver, and the Deceiver laughed and smote her down, the last of her people.

Afterwards, the tower was named anew and was called the Moon Blood Tower. It became the place of the Deceiver's reign, away from his true master and was corrupted through wizardry and treachery. Its walls became the color of blood, eternally stained by the blood of its people, and a guard was set about it that was evil and villainous.

The song ended and Delaine stepped away from the princess and gave her a flourishing bow. His bow was soon cut short when a Blaze Knight grasped each of his arms. Lord Tovit strode forward to the captured man.

"Who are you?" He demanded, and then sneered, "How dare you think you can have the honor of dancing with her Highness?"

"Let him go!" Princess Delsha interjected, "I may dance with whom I wish!" She looked at Lord Tovit with angry and pleading eyes, hoping no harm would come to Delaine. "Let him go, Lord Tovit!" Princess Delsha commanded. Lord Tovit let his eyes meet Delsha's and for a moment they stared at each other seeing who would relent first. Lord Tovit did, remembering his duty to the throne and to the princess. Lord Tovit motioned for his men to release their prisoner.

Delaine looked back at Delsha. Their eyes met and he spun his web further. "Delsha, you are so beautiful. Please don't forget about me," he begged and the Blaze Knights led him away. Delaine looked back over his shoulder. His eyes were stricken with need to see Delsha. He found her and their eyes locked.

"Please Delsha," he cried out, "My heart belongs to you." He said, the words echoing clear over the din of silent aristocrats. Then he was gone, hidden from view by the thick crowd.

It was in that moment that Delsha knew that she loved him. She wailed, her voice thin and shrill. Then she turned and fled. No one hindered her passing, and it was not for many minutes that the Blaze Knights realized that she had gone.

Her feet carried her swiftly away down the cobblestone streets. She became lost in the crowds, and swam through their currents to escape. She made her way to the city gate and ran out of it. The guards on duty were too busy with a game of dice and mugs of warm wine to notice her.

Her heart pumped and she sobbed great heaving tears that poured down her face. She kicked off her shoes to run faster. The grass was cool on her bare feet, but she slowed not. She ran faster even still and noticed not the looming trees that stood watching her approach. Then branches and leaves were smacking her face, and there was something else, something reached for her, grabbed her, and she screamed in terror. Without realizing it Princess Delsha had run head long into Iron Wood Forest.

Chapter 12: Iron Wood

Delsha's scream echoed in the distance. The Blaze Knights heard Delsha's desperate call, and ran faster cutting the plains west to the edge of their realm. Faster and faster they ran, and their boots were almost like thundering hooves, and their breath was heavy and full of need. They ran farther and another scream broke the din of night, and as this screech of horror and pain broke out across the crisp clear evening sky something else became present.

Like a shadow of doubt, like a great bastion built to withstand the tide of any riding army rose the tall and dark trees of Iron Wood. The dark trees stood tall and firm and were pinnacles and towers, and citadels and fortresses. The enemy of the west, and it was silent and eerie.

The Blaze Knights ran harder still, and were yet undaunted by the perilous sight. But, in their desperation they had not yet perceived the darkness that awaited them, and as they approached the air became cooler and the view of the stars became obscured. It was then, when the knights had almost ran straight into the consuming darkness that one soldier saw for truth their destination. He stopped, and in his horror gave up a call to rival that of Princess Delsha.

"Stop! Stop! We are heading straight into Iron Wood Forest!" The soldier cried, his voice full of terror and fright.

The Blaze Knights were then broken from the spell of chasing the princess, and they stopped on the very edge of the looming forest. At their arrival, the forest too broke its silence. From the depths of darkness great howls came forth, and they were thick and full of evil. Those lingering at the edge of reason were afraid.

Silence crept back, taking all with it, even the blowing of the wind. The quiet soon became more daunting than the shrieking of beasts, and the men standing on the edge of the wood quivered in fear.

"We cannot go in there," said a knight who was burly and strong. He looked to his companions hoping that they would agree.

He saw heads nodding in agreement in the shadows. He was calmed that others shared his fear. He looked around once more trying to catch the eyes of his comrades, but their nodding heads had sunken and stared silently at the ground.

"Do we go back now?" The burly knight ventured, hoping his words would not cut too deep in the displayed cowardice of the most renowned knights of the north.

"We cannot leave the princess to torment and death in there. What will the King say? How will we tell him? Are we supposed to say that a troop of Blaze Knights were too scared to try to retrieve his only offspring?" A shadowed shape said, one that was much more lean and slender than the knight that had previously spoken.

More than nods reacted to this, there were murmurs as well, but still no one moved. As if in answer to the stirred bravery of the knights the winds of the forest were once again filled with the sounds of hell. The Blaze Knights took several steps back, for the cries of the demons of the woods were much closer now, and terror trembled in their hearts.

"We are no match for this wizardry," a knight bellowed, "We must escape. There will be no way for us to find her in there. She is already lost. We heard her last sounds when she cried out. To go any further will be to fall into folly."

Then there grew a wind out of the west. It came forth from Iron Wood and it was strong and fierce. Howls were borne with it and on it there was a reek that was rank and foul. The Blaze Knights turned and made to run, fleeing for their lives, but there was an answer to the shrieking gale.

Like a whisper, a breeze blew in the east. It was soft and calm and was soothing to those who were afraid. The breeze picked up speed and grew, and soon it was mighty and powerful and came to battle with the foul wind of the forest. The eastern wind picked up, until it was a mighty current and the song it carried was fair and was like the baying of trumpets that greeted the long looked for dawn.

Then upon this wind flapped a cloak, and like an arrow a man shot into the swelling darkness of the forest. He became lost to sight, but his passing was like the crashing of shields, and the breaking of towers. The eastward wind died, but with it went the foul breath of Iron Wood and the beasts within were silenced.

Then the soldiers turned back. With a mighty clamor they let loose their weapons and they fell to the earth. They threw themselves upon the ground and as if a spell came over them they slipped off to sleep. There they rested, peacefully and unhindered, until the rising of the sun brought tidings of news.

...

The man sped through the dark forest. The limbs of the tall trees bent back at his approach and let him travel untouched throughout the tide of darkness. He continued along, a fire bolt flickering in and out of sight. Mile after mile he came deeper into the core of the forest. Then when he had come so far the ranks of trees thinned and there laid bare underneath the night sky was a circled shaped patch of open land littered with ancient stone ruins.

The man stopped. His cape fluttered once about him then laid still as if waiting for his command to take flight once more. There, Delaine Johastor looked around and waited. He did not wait long, for soon from the surrounding trees drifted the Mist. It came too from the ground, streaming forth like the lost souls escaping from the Isle of Death at the end of all times.

Delaine entered the Mist. Through it he swept forth for a time, then the Mist receded and before him was a cave and its mouth was gaping and black. As he entered the cave he was confronted by descending stairs, a thousand of them carved from rock. And they spiraled downward into the bowels of the earth.

Chapter 13: The Cave

He pulled forth a torch, and with a swift movement he lit it. The flames of the torch expelled their heat, and their light danced and flickered on the rocky walls. Delaine descended slowly, each step producing an echo that sank into the black pit below. He moved cautiously, but confidently, knowing what evils waited in the deep darkness of the world.

An hour almost passed before he reached the bottom of the long stair. For a moment he leaned against a rocky wall and rested before resuming on his quest for the princess. With his torch he scanned his new environment, searching earnestly for the proper path to choose.

What he saw was an open scrawl under a domed ceiling adorned with stalagmites. Droplets of water collected on the high ceiling, and then they fell into small pools below. On the far end of the chamber were two openings. One was great like a pit sitting sideways. The other was small and size enough for two men to walk a breast. Delaine chose the smaller one.

He moved slowly into the dark stone tunnel. The tunnel soon narrowed and he walked with his shoulders barely grazing the rocky formations that were long ago carved by some unholy hand. A long time he walked with nothing but the sounds of his own footsteps and that of the burning flames of his torch. The cave curved and twisted, sending Delaine into a destination of a direction he did not know.

At last the tunnel gave away and Delaine entered a low ceiling chamber with walls that were smooth and slick. The flames from the torch danced in here, and sent the moving floor before him into sparkling jewels and diamonds. Delaine looked closer and saw the floor was some foul forgotten lake at the bottom of the world. Its waters rippled and churned as if some sea monster was alert to his presence.

Delaine came closer, interested in this foul nest of evil he had discovered. He spoke words in a low voice and the flames of the torch intensified giving the lightless din more brightness than it had seen in all the ages. Then the rippling of the water grew greater, and the water beat upon the stony shore with black waves. Doubt grew in Delaine's mind and he stepped backwards towards the mouth of the tunnel.

The movement backward saved him. Two great massive tentacles burst forth from the black tide. Delaine fell back, losing his footing and hit the sharp stone floor hard. A roar was let loose that rattled the thick walls of the cavern. Chunks of rock broke loose from this shock wave and splashed heavily into the now rapid waves.

Delaine looked back to the heaving waters and saw emerging from the torrent the head of a sickly huge beast. Its skin was transparent, so that Delaine could easily see its rows of sharp teeth and the organs of its head. The eyes though, were not see-thru. Those were thick black opals the size of a man's head.

The creature roared again. Its horrid voice now deafening with its mouth above the flowing waters. More rock tumbled downward while more tentacles shot forth from the waves. The tentacles missed Delaine again, smashing the rock about him into ruble.

As more and more tentacles struck, the walls of the cave weakened. Delaine stood and in a rare moment of terror, he fled. He ran down the corridor of the cave back to the domed chamber that housed the upward stairs. While he ran he heard a great echo and then a snap louder than a thunderclap. Behind him the cave began to collapse.

Rock crashed and thundered down behind him. He came forth to the mouth of the cave and he threw himself forward. The rest of that corridor fell inward, and panting heavily on the stone floor, Delaine was thankful for his narrow escape. A long time he lay with his face down upon the cold rock, and in him a fury rose for being almost utterly trapped in the caverns far beneath the open sky of the world.

Slowly, he pushed himself up and finally stood upward on his toes. A fleeting light burned in his eyes and was gone, washed away by some unseen tide, leaving his face pure and handsome. He crept quietly, and more cautiously towards the last opening snaking its way farther into the depths and dungeons of the underworld, and from it came a distant growl of something large and unfed.

Delaine was now without his torch, but words he spoke and they came from his mouth like fog and around him a light glowed. This new cave was smooth and polished. Delaine came across more stairs, and the fixture was wide, and the steps large. Delaine made his way deeper into the bonds of hell. Then there was a massive archway, and above it words in some forgotten tongue were inscribed.

Delaine knew the writing and the words they spoke. The language was that of Devindal and his servants, and the words were Kru Nacrus Dar Cur Loftok, which means 'Dungeon Inviolate and Separate Void'. Delaine hesitated before he entered that gate, for he knew what it truly was. It was a portal and it led to a small realm that sat in desolate waves on some forgotten edge of the Forever Night Sea.

Delaine then went forward, and as he passed through the arched gateway he felt a tingling spread throughout his body. And he looked back and the view to where he had come from was blurred, and he knew he had traveled a distance farther than the visible stars that adorned the skies over Plantyr. He continued forward. The stone was different here, the cave in which he had traveled was gone, he was in a fortress now, though small it may be.

Chapter 14: Bane of the Mighty

These stones were polished and dark, and etched into the stones were grisly scenes of battle and slaughter. Delaine stopped still at one of them. It showed a long scrolling scene of the fall of a nation that had taken place far in the distance of time. It showed a wizard dictating terms of surrender to a powerful sea king. The king had refused surrender and gone to war, which had been great and terrible.

The kingdom was destroyed along with the king's family and friends. The mural did not show the rest of the story, which Delaine knew well. The king had gone into exile, and in his wrath he passed through unimaginable trials and raised an army with power undreamt of, and through strength of arms he overthrew the Prince of Devindal.

Delaine turned his eyes from the murals and continued onward. He soon found the hallway lit by rows of torches that burned with blue light. The torches were that of magic, and never ceased their burning. He began to wonder if this ploy was overly ambitious even for him. It was too late to recede on his plans he decided and he descended down stairs that were not crafted by mortal hands.

He entered into a chamber that was as long as it was wide. Fifty meters the chamber stretched, and at the far end was another open archway that was massive beyond belief. A loud growl echoed in the far away darkness, and Delaine took a step back, pondering fleeing the chamber and making his way back to Plantyr. The thought was sliced in half even as it was conceived. In a violent clamor a steel gate clanged closed shutting off his path of retreat.

"Do you know?" A gruff voice sounded from the depths of the archway. "That long ago I came here as you do now, and could not escape. I was curious and powerful, and full of fear. I escaped from that ancient battlefield before all was diminished. That great ruby citadel burned like the light of all the stars."

"Smoke choked the field and the great and powerful fell in heaps. I myself slew the Mighty, when he was hard pressed by enemies on all sides, his back to the city's walls. His bright sword swept aside all, but I moved too quickly. As he felled many on either side I came forth and took off his sword hand, and the wrath that it held burned me and I fled."

"In my painful fury I trampled all in my path and leapt into the currents of the Forever Night Sea, and was taken away. This island I took for refuge, but another was here first, and I have submitted to him. A long time have I thirsted for the taste of battle, and you are the first one who has come to offer me a challenge. I was always told you were powerful, now I get to have that proven," the gruff powerful voice said.

Then the keeper of the voice came forward. It came out from the depths of the arch and the black desuetude beyond. Delaine stiffened and deep from his cloak he drew a thin silver sword. He flicked it before him then held it in defiance.

"The Wolf," Delaine said in half surprise and half in astonishment.

Garmornosh, the Wolf Wight of Old, emerged from the black shadows and his white ghastly form was bathed in blue from the flickering magical torches that dimly lit the chamber. The wolf was thrice the size of Delaine and it howled a howl that was piercing to the ears. Delaine stood his ground, letting not the howl affect him. A wicked grin flashed across Delaine's face and his eyes burned. The wolf did not charge, for he knew who his opponent truly was.

"Do you think I fear you?" Delaine sneered. "You know my real name. You know who my master is."

"I know who you are," Garmornosh assured him. "I also know you did not truly take part in the Great Battle. You fled to preserve your own wretched skin.. I know your plans, and they will not transpire by the planned design if I may smite it," Garmornosh said while crouching into an attack position.

"One on one you would have been slain instantly against the Mighty. Defeating him when he most likely faced a thousand is no great feat," Delaine said defiantly. Garmornosh simply sneered. A growl grew from deep within the Wolf Wight, and he belched forth a blue fire.

This caused Delaine to lose some of his composure. Garmornosh laughed out loud.

"You see, fledging coward, don't you? Garmornosh said, his voice full of venom and fury. "You know what weapon lies within my belly. It burns always with its star-fire," Garmornosh said his eyes burning a sickly yellow.

"Enough of this, Wolf." Delaine bellowed, his sword held out before him.

Garmornosh without any more words or roars of challenge, charged. The great Wolf Wight sped forward, faster than any hound he came onward and his teeth showed like rows of blue flaming swords in the torchlight. His misty white transparent body flexed mightily making the view through him to be contorted and sickly like a nightmare. As Garmornosh bore down on Delaine his great maw opened separating the swords that were meant to grind the enemy before him to oblivion.

Delaine stood his ground. There at the last possible moment when the beast was upon him, he leapt. With great speed and height Delaine jumped. His knees, he tucked under himself and his blade held out twirled like a swishing silver flame. He soared above Garmornosh, his sword nearly scraping the ceiling of the chamber. Garmornosh snapped with his great maw as Delaine flew passed him, but the jaw shut closed, and was empty, and the monster roared in fury.

The walls shook from the power that escaped the throat of Garmornosh. Delaine was unheeded by this and he landed behind the Wolf Wight, and before the wolf could turn, Delaine struck with his sword. The blade struck the hindquarters of the Wolf Wight's leg, and there was a crash and a flash of blinding light, as if some heavenly bolt had struck the room, and Delaine turned and fled as Garmornosh recoiled to strike. The retaliatory strike came swift, but not swiftly enough, for Delaine had made his way to the edges of the chamber.

"Did you enjoy that, pup?" Delaine laughed out in mockery of his foe. Delaine twirled his blade before him. "There is plenty more to come, thou prisoner on some forgotten island," Delaine mocked again. "Shall we resume?" Evil flashed in Delaine's eyes.

"It'll take more than a pin prick to defeat me. I'm surprised a coward such as you even carries a sword. Whose was it before it came into your slimy grip?" Garmornosh asked.

"A gift. It was given to me from the King of Merlaa in payment for his insolence. It is Falina-forged. A fine blade don't you think, dog? Such blades always carried great powers," Delaine sneered.

"A Falina-forged blade? You despicable cur!" The Wolf Wight howled. "You fight with the weapons of the Ancient Ones? A whole armory of Gorthar you could have chosen from, but this? Myr would have your flesh flayed."

"Myr doesn't exist any longer. I am ruler now and you will bow down to me or be destroyed," Delaine countered.

Garmornosh did not answer, but came on again. He came more cautiously this time, but fearless nonetheless. When he came to Delaine he flashed his claws and swung them forth. Delaine ducked and rolled underneath them, blocking two of the razors with his sword. Sparks flew and there was the sound of shrill ringing metal.

Garmornosh struck again and again, alternating use of his left and right paws. Still, the attacks struck Delaine not, as the small shadow in the corner of some forgotten abyss leapt and countered, and used attacks of his own. Delaine's sword flickered forth like a small pin of light. Many small wounds it scored leaving traces of swirling red on the misty white of the wolf's body.

Garmornosh roared in fury, and with its great paw swatted at Delaine. Delaine had nowhere to go and held his blade up before him. The sword struck and embedded itself in the wolf's paw causing the aberration to scream out in searing pain. The paw did not stop its momentum though, and it caught Delaine and sent him sprawling hard against the far wall.

Delaine dazedly stood up looking about him for his enemy. Garmornosh glared at him from the far side of the chamber licking his wounded paw and holding up Delaine's sword triumphantly. Delaine cursed, but he would not draw out his folded staff from beneath his cloak. Instead Delaine stood there weaponless and defiant.

Garmornosh looked at him wickedly and with the glint of victory in his shadow-moon eyes. "This seems to be your end, old fool." Garmornosh sneered. "Here in the depths of the deepest crevice, on the shores of the forgotten places you will fall. None will remember your passage; none of the Old will remain. The islands in the Forever Night Sea will float on, untended until the Great Lords of Light and Darkness break free from their prisons to continue the Battle of Time. You will not replace the Dark Lord. You will fall now!" Garmornosh yelled triumphantly as he sprung forth to finish off his prey.

Delaine stood motionlessly and waited for the Wolf Wight that was coming forth to spell his doom. Then, as the Wolf Wight, the Hound of Gorthar, Garmornosh, vanquisher of the Mighty, prepared to crush Delaine in his jaws, the small shadow moved. In a fluid movement Delaine drew a small dagger from his cloak and slid forth on his back extending his arm upward, sinking the blade deep into the exposed flesh of the wolf. Delaine let the dagger stay there and continued to slide until he was out from underneath of the falling beast.

The Wolf Wight howled in pain and defeat. He cursed his enemy, and in his pain he asked, "what is this devilry?" Delaine slowly got up on his feet, and was too full of pain to smile in his slim victory.

"That was the poisoned dagger, Lorath. The blade used by Talvoi the Trickster in his attempt to assassinate Achaines, the God of War. It seems I did take something from Gorthar's armory after all."

Garmornosh crumbled to ground and there with a few heavy breaths, he died. His body dissipated, and like a wind the mist blew in a gust and escaped the dungeon and was lost in the stellar courses of the universe. Delaine looked for the dagger, Lorath, but it too was gone. Two more of the workings of the evil smith Gorthar had left time and space.

But, lying upon the cold stone was a remnant from the Wolf Wight. There lay a hand and a blue bladed sword. The hand soon crumbled to ash, but the sword remained, undimmed even after all its years in the belly of the wolf. Delaine slowly approached it. He bent and reached for the hilt, a lustful greed sank upon him. But, when his hand touched the steel wrappings of the hilt of the sword, Delaine cried out in pain.

His hand he quickly held close to his body. He peered cautiously at it and saw that it shook and was burnt. He looked back at the blade and knew it would not suffer his touch. He left it there, and retrieved his own sword. A few words he said over his hand, and the flesh was healed, but the pain of the burn lingered forever after.

Chapter 15: The Boat Man

Delaine, after his confrontation with the wolf, had entered the path of darkness. He was led down onto a distant shore. There he was confronted by a view of spinning constellations and blue nebulas. He stood on the edge of the Forever Night Sea and was bewildered by its massive nothingness. Like a great sea of black waves, it consumed everything.

He waited, standing on stones of deep green. He looked back to where he had come and saw only a path, the roof of the Halls of the Wolf was no more, and there was only now the distant starlight. Delaine's mind became numb, had he been deceived? Was he now trapped in some ancient void, as many of his kind had been sent before?

Defeat made its way into his mind, his anger fell and he stared helplessly out into the black tide. Then there was a crash on the open sea. A thunderclap, an energy wave, and a flash of blinding light and these smoothed themselves out and came like the wind. There deep in the darkness, Delaine perceived a sail of red dried blood. Below the sail was a vessel, and it rode the invisible waves smoothly.

The vessel came closer, a cosmic ship and aboard was one captain. The ship cut the surf, and docked upon the edge of nothingness. Delaine stood still and silent. The captain of the ship did not look at Delaine and for a long time he stood only smoking a decrepit old pipe. Then slowly the captain's head turned and looked upon Delaine. "It's about time little wizard," his deep voice boomed.

The captain of the ship was a strange sight. He wore a three-pointed hat, and a bandana tucked beneath. He wore a long red coat and puffy pants of white. A black belt encircled his pants and latched with a great buckle.

Hanging from the belt was a scabbard fitted with a cutlass. He had thin black leather gloves, a great black beard, and over his right eye was a black patch laced with red-silver thread. One thing separated this old pirate from the ones Delaine had seen sailing blue waves of oceans on the planets that were scattered about the Realms of Confusion. This pirate was a skeleton.

"Get on ere, I don't have all eternity," the pirate's voice boomed, and then he broke into a violent fit of laughter, and fell all over himself. Delaine did not move and for a long while he did not say anything. At last the pirate became impatient and said, "if your arse don't get on me ship soon, I'm gonna leave you here. I have better things to do than wait for thee, I be late for raidin and pillaging and I wouldn't mind doin a bit of fishin." The pirate's deep voice finished with a turn of his skeletal face that could only be a smile.

"Who are you?" Delaine asked finally.

The pirate looked at Delaine as if he was stupid.

"I am Mael Caron, the Mariner, the Cosmic Sailor, the Boat Man. Those are my names, and others I have besides. You sure you have not heard of me, wizard? Mael asked, giving Delaine a cynical look. "Now enough of this, get on, your passage has already been paid."

Still, Delaine stood.

Mael shook his head. "Did you not hear me before? Are you deaf? Are you dumb? I said get on this damn ship, I don't have all eternity."

Anger rose up in Delaine and he made to draw his sword. Mael was quicker and out flashed his cutlass.

"I wouldn't if I were you wizard. Are you going to kill me? If you haven't noticed already I will let you in on a little secret," Mael said leaning closer, while lowering his voice. Delaine instinctively moved his head closer to Mael. Then Mael yelled and his voice boomed into the vastness of the Forever Night Sea. "I'm already dead!" Again, he broke into laughter and with a fluid movement he sheathed his blade.

"Get on now," Mael said with a friendly wave of his hand, and this time Delaine obliged.

Delaine climbed onboard the small ship and not a moment sooner the craft skirted away. "Welcome aboard the Blazing Comet. It didn't used to be named that you know. But all these planet bound fools always call it a comet when they see it streaking across the heavens, so I thought I'd humor them. It was once called Fingol for its bright and blazing light, but now its just plain ol' Blazing Comet," said Mael.

The pirate then spat, but Delaine noticed nothing like saliva come from his mouth. Delaine looked at the Boat Man with interest and disgust. Wondering why he had never heard of such a creature. His thoughts became too focused on the skeleton pirate and he voiced those thoughts. Delaine's questions came out in a rush.

"Who are you? And I don't mean what is your name. Who are you, where do you come from and what side do you hold your sway? And what do you mean that my passage has already been paid for?"

Mael turned from his concentration of sailing the cosmic sea. He looked long at Delaine with his one eye socket, and then turned his attention back to the dark sea to skip around a black hole. The gravity well sucked at the ship and Delaine could feel its power. The Blazing Comet had sailed for too long, and its captain too experienced and Mael moved the craft back out to the open sea.

"As for your first question," Mael started without looking at his passenger, "I am what I said, I am the Boat Man." Now Mael did turn his eye to Delaine. "Where I come from is a much longer answer." He was silent for a while as he steered the wooden wheel of his ship.

The distant stars rolled by and as Delaine stood upon the ship's bow waiting for delayed answers from an anciently dead pirate his thoughts deepened and he became impatient. The stars that were dim bulbs sitting like scattered jewels across the black way brought anger into Delaine's heart. He hated the stars, hated what they were, and wished that he would one day end their eternal metamorphisms. "Falina," he cursed from under his breath and looked back to Mael who was queerly looking at him.

Mael followed Delaine's previous gaze to the stars and said, "no, they're not around no more." Mael looked back to Delaine and added, "but I am." His strange skeletal smile widened, and Delaine gave him a look of disgust.

"Answer my questions, fool!" Delaine yelled finally. His anger showing through and for a fleeting moment his eyes flashed neon green.

"No need to get hasty, wizard. I see through your display already. Nor am I a fool. As for my story I will only tell it to you simply. I have been around since the Beginning. My thoughts and memories transcend such deep wells that even the likes of you does not know. I have seen it all, or at least most of it, and have paid the price," Mael said tapping his eye patch. "It is very surprising what you can see from way up here," said Mael smiling once again.

"I have watched threads being pulled, and threads coming unraveled. Each time there has been such a mess. Wars, wars, wars. Always the fools have their wars. With each time having the same end. But, none of this tells you who I really am, does it?"

"No," Delaine sternly answered.

Mael laughed and continued with his rambling. "Well, that is the best way I can tell you, without giving away all my secrets. But other questions you had, correct?" The dead pirate asked.

Delaine stared blankly at him waiting for him to continue. Mael pleased that no more interruptions came did just that.

"The side I belong to is my own. It has been that way since the Beginning and will remain that way until the True End is ushered in. And that will come soon, very soon." Mael smiled.

Mael's absent eye glowed in his one socket and he flashed his toothy grin. His skeletal head swiveled back and forth scanning the Forever Night Sea, and then stopped and looked towards a direction that Delaine would have guessed to be east, if there was such a direction in the swollen sea of the universe. Tucked away underneath stars and swirling planets was an island that was black and rocky. It seemed an empty place, a chunk of creation lost and forgotten, as it had been. But within there was a dwelling of evil and a monster of great power.

Mael steered now for it. The ship dipped and turned, its red blood sail rippling and full, even though there was no wind. Delaine grasped at what he could, while Mael let out a roar of maniacal laughter. Delaine looked at Mael and his eyes flashed, but stayed his hand from striking out at the pirate, for something deep inside him whispered that he was no match for the Boat Man.

The cosmic ship came closer and stopped near the edge of the rocky island. From their position, Delaine could see an opening to a cave that led down into an uncharted underworld, that he knew was filled with death and a hellish fiend.

"This is where we depart, wizard." Mael said, his voice full of contempt and power. "And for your last question," Mael looked sternly at Delaine, "the price has been paid." Mael said tapping his missing eye once again. "For if it had not been then I would have smote you where you stood. Now get off my ship," Mael commanded.

Delaine was happy to oblige. He stepped off onto the craggy shore and the ship sped away and shot off into oblivion, its streaming comet tail trailing behind it. Delaine turned back, looking at the entrance to the cave. He went towards it, wondering if his plan had run smoothly, or if it had fallen into ruin.

Chapter 16: Damsel in Distress

"Delaine!" Princess Delsha screamed, as he entered the din of horror.

Delaine quickly searched his surroundings and saw that his plans had not gone as exactly as he had wished. The cave was large and dark, its dirty rocky floor stained crimson from countless victims that had fallen into the monster's grasp. The beast's latest victim lay in a corner, half eaten, and only an exposed ribcage and head were left. So, Thorrg was dead, Delaine thought. His usefulness was through. Delaine did not lament the creature's passing, for he had planned on killing him himself after all was said and done.

The beast itself was a monstrous and terrifying thing. The beast had been hunched over and leering at the princess in her rusty manacles, chaining her to the cave's wall. It had shifted its view when Delsha had called out Delaine's name. The beast stood up revealing its full height. It stood upward to thirty feet tall, its head scraping against the jagged rocky roof of the cave.

The monster's skin was thick and white like chalk. Its muscles were like plates of armor. Its head was uneven, lines and fissures ran down either side of it as if it had been badly chiseled from stone. From its chest hung three sagging breasts. It hefted up a large club that was spiked with sharp rocks from the cave.

The beast was called Gryla, she was the mother of Iron Wood Forest, and the keeper of its portals. Behind her gleamed a transparent pool, which could deliver her into any of the connecting places of her evil realm. Delaine's plan for her consent to his domination had failed, she had agreed, but revoked her word as he had suspected since the beginning she would.

Now he would face her, and only through victory could his plans be achieved. Delaine struggled a bit not to switch into his true form to draw the extra power he would need, instead he called out to Delsha.

"My Lady, I am here to save you, but you must listen and do exactly as I say." Delaine said sparing a quick glance to the princess as Gryla came slowly onward, looking warily at Delaine. The princess said nothing, willing to do absolutely anything to aid her hero in helping her survive this utter terror before her.

"Remember the glow ball that I showed you earlier?" Delaine asked. Delsha violently nodded her head in acknowledgement. "I have other such tricks that I have picked over the years of my travels," Delaine continued, "but they are much more dangerous and will bring you harm if you see them. You must close your eyes, princess. Do not open them until I say. Understand?" Delaine finished while Delsha shut her eyes and tried to turn her head away from her would be savior.

Delaine had to duck and roll away as Gryla's great club descended to where he had stood only momentarily before. Delaine quickly got to his feet and jumped, barely missing a second swing that crashed hard into the wall of the cave. From underneath his cloak he brought forth a staff and held it before him. Gryla stood still, looking at him, uncertain of what her next move should be.

Gryla then roared in a tongue long forgotten to those that had remained loyal to the Light and came at Delaine as swiftly as she could. The end of Delaine's staff lit up and arcs of lightning shot forth streaming towards Gryla, embracing her and smoldering her flesh, causing smoke to rise from the burnt parts of her body. The lightning, though painful to the Master of the Cave, did not have as much effect on her as Delaine had hoped and he fled her angry charge that consisted of several crashing swings of her club.

Delaine backed away, and then fled the wrath that barred down on him. He was backed into a corner with the full weight of the beast preparing to splat him against the sharp rows of rocks that jutted out from the cave's walls. And at the last moment of what Gryla perceived to be the end of Delaine's life he flipped and his body rose over her great mass and landed behind her as she smacked hard into the wall pulverizing much of it, and sliced much of her left side to bloody ribbons.

Delaine did not hesitate as he landed behind her, his eyes and face changed and he unleashed his full power against the giant before him. A wave laced with flame, lightning, and green acid burst from the end of his staff and the power of it pierced the wounded thick hide of Gryla and poured deep into her bowels and organs. Gryla's body erupted in pain, and her death cry resonated throughout her chamber as its walls began to crumble. The wizard's face turned back to the form of Delaine, and he turned and ran to the chained princess.

He held his staff out and shot two quick bursts of blue beams. The beams struck the rusty chains that held Delsha in place and she fell to the floor stunned. Delaine quickly put his staff back into his cloak and said, "Princess open you eyes and come to me quickly." Delsha did what he asked and soon found herself in his arms. "Hurry!" Delaine commanded. "We have to get out of her before this place tears itself apart."

Then Delaine rushed her forth, dodging falling debris that came in the shape of stones larger than either of them. Gryla's body lay limp, and they passed the great giant, hiding for a moment under a crook of her leg for protection from the crumbling cave. Then in a last dash, Delaine hurried the princess forth into the Pool of Portals and they disappeared and escaped as the remaining walls of the cave crashed down behind them.

Chapter 17: A Hero Betrothed

The morning sun rose bright in the east. Its colors radiated throughout the gathered clouds spreading red flame across the sky. Throughout the countryside of Plantyr the birds sang their songs welcoming a new day. The weather was cool, and the grass damp with dew. A few flowers had opened up their petals the days previous and were content to stick it out until they found the warmer heat of the developing day.

A guard of Blaze Knights still scouted the edges of Iron Wood Forest, and there was an echo of distant thunder that was gathering and coming closer. An army had been assembled and crossed now through the streets of Grey Slate as it made its way out of the city to prepare to search the bewitched forest for the King's lost Daughter-Heir. There was unrest in Lord Tovit's eyes as he led the army forth, and at his side were the Protectors of the Throne that added to his discomfort.

Ghent wore a face of grimness that caused terror to any soldier that met his baleful eyes. Falgar, on the other hand, appeared more like Lord Tovit, for he was sure the girl was lost, and was leading an expedition of men to their deaths. He had been into the forest once when he was younger, and only through luck had he escaped the horrors, which lurked there.

The army marched across the plains and under the early morning shadows that cast themselves forth providing cool spots, which the soldiers treaded under. Their steel armor and their weapons gleamed in the rays of the morning light. Poles reaching high above the men donned banners that flapped with the wind when it decided to blow its breath. Their feet were in unison, and their faces blank, desperately trying to forgo showing the fear that resided in their hearts.

As they approached the forest they noticed that sun did not touch the high brows and branches of the trees. Instead, darkness clung there as if the light that illuminated everything about them did not exist. Murmurs began to run through the ranks of the Knights of the Red Dawn and Blaze Knights that were gathered in force for the search. Many looked back towards the way they had come, hoping desperately for some means of escape.

As the army neared the edge of the Iron Wood Forest a clamor of noise rose up to meet them. The soldiers of Plantyr steeled themselves, believing that creatures of the ancient wood were emerging and that they would be very soon locked in combat. But, soon the news spread, and the words that were on every man's lips were that the princess had been rescued.

Lord Tovit refused to take any chances this close to the evil forest and spread his soldiers out into formation lines incase any monsters burst out from the trees. Then he and the Protectors of the Throne went forth to see the princess first hand. Lord Tovit was surprised to see the princess with the simple juggler that she had danced with the night before and the shock showed clearly upon his face. He ran towards her and embraced her.

The stern look dissipated from Ghent's face and he went over to celebrate with the rejoicing Blaze Knights that had spent the night on the edge of the forest. There was much laughter and clasping of hands. More than a few soldiers removed flasks and shared drinks. Only Falgar did not rejoice, but looked at Delsha's savior coldly.

Falgar did not like the situation. He did not like that this simple looking man had braved the forest, where the Blaze Knights had not. He did not like the way Princess Delsha still clung to him. He did not like the feel that radiated from the man. Most importantly he did not like the thought that the man had spent the entire night in the forest and had come out apparently unscathed.

Falgar, when he had been young entered the forest once during the day. He had spent only an hour in the enchanted woods, but in that time he had faced many challenges and monsters. He had fought bravely, but only his powers of magic and extensive swordsmanship had enabled him to prevail and escape. But he had returned on the verge of death, and for long weeks he had laid and recovered from his grievous wounds.

He looked at the man again and this time the man turned towards him and met his stare. For a long moment they looked into each other's eyes, and then it was over as quickly as it had happened. Falgar was left breathless, and knew deep down he had just been tested by strength of will, and believed that he had lost. He turned and left, believing that no attack would come from the forest at this time. He had to go see the King, for he had important news to report and words of dire warning.

But the celebration under the shadow of the forest continued. And it was there that the final doom of Plantyr and the Ten Kingdoms was sown. In the presence of the knights of Plantyr and under the eyes of Ghent, Protector of the Throne, Delaine Johastor, traveler of ancient roads and paths seldom sought, descended to his knee and asked Princess Delsha for her hand in marriage.

In her happiness, the princess wept. Her hands went to her heart and she knelt in the grass, and together Delsha and Delaine gazed into each other's eyes. For long moments there was silence until at last Delaine spoke again.

"My beautiful lady," he began, "through all my travels, never have I discovered a gem such as you. But, to ask for your hand, is to ask for a treasure that is beyond anything I possess. If you accept and become my wife then I will give to you the greatest gift that I may. I will seek out a star and bring it to you, that you may be adorned as the Queen of Twilight, a sparkling light that shines with the moon."

As the tears streamed down Delsha's face she smiled bright and beautiful. Her eyes soft and a-glow with the drunken foolishness of love. She looked upon her beloved and her body shook from joy.

"I will marry you," Delsha said. Her choked words came out with gasps of happy laughter. "I love you, Delaine," she said. "You are my hero, and shall be our king."

Then there was an eruption of cheers from the men that were gathered. Ghent came forward and clasped Delaine's hand and they grinned at each other. Then the news spread about the ready army like a fire among hay. Voices carried high to the air, echoing like a booming horn spreading to Grey Slate in the distance.

The people of the city, moving slowly about the city streets, stopped. They looked to the west, uncertain of the sounding din that was carried forth by the morning air. They had watched the soldiers depart, and now wondered if doom was making its name known to them. As they stood still, in their wonder, and in their looming fear, a man sped past. He went straight to the King's Tower, and spoke urgently with the King.

Chapter 18: Matrimony

"I will not stand here and let this thing transpire!" An angry Falgar, yelled.

King Morlen stood now; Ghent at his side, there was a shadow of boiled anger on the King's face, an unaccustomed attribute while confronting one of his Protectors of the Throne. "This man is foul, there is an air of treachery that hangs about him like a fog. He should be imprisoned and executed," Falgar stated, his brow and eyes like stone fire.

"Executed?" King Morlen asked in disbelief. "Executed?" He said again this time with more of his anger brimming towards his reddening face. "Shall this man be put to the stake for saving my daughter?" The King's voice boomed with fury. "Is that what those that rule Plantyr have come to? Do they show their utmost gratitude for bringing back their greatest treasure with a sentence of death? No Falgar, you have stepped beyond any line I would ever think that you would cross. You have disrespected your land and those that serve and protect it, come back from this madness now," King Morlen said.

Falgar stood silent for a moment staring at the King, judging him. "My King," Falgar started slowly, "I have spent all of my days in duty for this land and city. I have been your protector, and done always what I believed was right. I came to you and told you of a vision of doom. This man I believe is at that doom's center. If you will not destroy him, then I will." Falgar finished and turned to leave.

King Morlen was consumed by fury and as Falgar came to the end of the chamber the King shouted, "Seize him!"

Falgar turned around to face the King, shock clearly displayed across his face. Ghent came forward, his staff lowered, and stood alertly before his master and friend. The sound of belated drawn swords resonated throughout the chamber, and Blaze Knights came forth with naked sharp steel to cut him down if he resisted.

"Please master," Ghent said in a low, sad voice, "do not struggle." Falgar looked at his pupil, saw the pain that rested in his eyes, saw that Ghent would be forced to fight him if he did not do as he said, and saw that his friend wished he had no part of this. Falgar moved slowly, but bent and laid his staff upon the ground.

A Blaze Knight moved forward to take hold of the King's wizard. "Hold," Ghent said in an angry voice. "You will not touch him," Ghent said leaking fury upon the knight. "He is a Protector of the Throne, only I will handle him." Ghent said, causing the knight to back up several feet. Ghent moved forward and turned his master gently around. He took forth from deep in his robes a small silver rope. Falgar moved his hands behind his back and Ghent used the rope to bind them. The rope glowed with a blue tint showing its magic that could not easily be broke.

"You are hereby a prisoner in the land of Plantyr." Ghent announced to Falgar. "Your duties have been stripped, your connections severed. You will be brought to the dungeons of Grey Slate and there you will abide until the King releases you." Ghent finished, his voice was strong, but its chorus was sadness.

"Open the doors," Ghent commanded. The chamber doors swung open. Then Falgar, once a Protector of the Throne, left a prisoner. His bondsman was his best friend, and his master looked on in scorn. A company of Blaze Knights followed Ghent as he proceeded down the corridors. The march was silent, only the echoes of boots on tile could be heard. Servants that saw this passing looked on in shocked awe, not understanding why the wizard Falgar would be led away as a prisoner on this joyous day. And in the shadows a man watched, and upon his face was a wicked smile, for he knew one of his adversaries had been dealt with.

...

Trumpets blared and petals of roses filled the air, dancing in graceful movements as they descended upon the crowd of people below. All of Grey Slate had been gathered and they stood ready for celebration in the courtyard before the King's Tower. King Morlen emerged onto a balcony high above the waiting people and they raised their voices in cheers and high whistles. The King, high on his parapet smiled, waved, and swept his arms out welcoming all those who had come for such a wonderful event.

The King motioned for quiet, and the crowd's volume decreased until in was a low murmur slithering like a serpent. "My people," the King started, "my dear good people of Grey Slate and Plantyr. A great day is upon us. One where celebrations will last long into the night." With this the crowd cheered anticipating all of the beer and wine and dancing that was to come. The King smiled and then continued. "One where a hero will be inducted into the line of kings." Again the crowd cheered, but the King brought up his hands to deliver the real message. "One where my daughter will be married!" The king's voice boomed.

With it the crowd erupted and they witnessed Princess Delsha coming forth onto the balcony, her hair long behind her back and her dress white with yellow flowers. Delaine Johastor followed, his hair was slick and combed neatly. He wore an officer's uniform with a sown patch that was the regal symbol of the line of the King. He smiled and waved and the people cheered for him. Then the three were joined with a Tevinite Priest and soon after the ceremony began.

Ghent watched from a distance. His mind was troubled and filled with doubt. He had arrested his one true friend, who had been his master since he was a small boy. Falgar had always done what was right for his country and King. He had always been very intuitive, and strong with visions. He had hunted down murderers and would be assassins.

Had Ghent done the right thing? Was this marriage that was taking place spelling the doom for the kingdoms that lay between the Great Trees? Ghent would wait and he would watch. He decided to make a trip to the city's dungeons and have a private talk with one that was imprisoned there.

Chapter 19: Gifts and Knot Tying

The celebration of the marriage of Princess Delsha to the newly made heir of the throne, Prince Delaine, lasted long into the night. But when morning came the world was wet and soggy. Delaine rose from their consummation bed and dressed quickly. He peered out into the world and watched the rain soaking the streets below. Lightning and thunder echoed far to the south.

Prince Delaine turned back and saw his wife smiling and looking warmly up at him from underneath the thick covers of the bed. He smiled at her and thought pleasantly of the lovemaking they had shared. Delaine had always enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. "I will be going soon," Delaine said to Delsha, and watched the confusion that set firmly upon her face.

Delsha's eyes narrowed in worry and slowly said, "What do you mean that you will be leaving soon, my love?"

Delaine gave her his best smile. "I must bring you the present I promised you, yes?" He said, sinking himself onto the corner of the bed. "A star, so that you may wear it upon your brow and be the queen of queens of all those sprinkled about the Realms of Confusion."

Delsha's eyes grew lustful. "Then you know where you can find this place of stars?" Delsha asked.

Delaine studied her for a moment and then answered, "yes, I believe it to be to south where the thunder now thunders and the lightning dances in the sky. There I will find my path and through heroic actions I will bring you back a Star of the Falina." He said while rising to a stand and he finished with a flourishing naked bow.

Princess Delsha laughed. "Take me with you," Delsha said.

Prince Delaine looked at her sadly and shook his head. "I cannot. It will be far too dangerous, and though I will risk myself to find this place of stars, but I will not risk you," Delaine finished with a charming smile.

Delsha looked at the bed sheets in sadness. Delaine without her noticing shivered at the thought of talking about stars. He hated stars. Hated them all, and wished for all of them to be destroyed. "Will you do one thing for me before you go?" Delsha asked timidly.

"What is that, my love?" Delaine asked her.

Princess Delsha met his eyes and the timid nature was no longer there, because it had been replaced with passion and hunger. "Will you lay with me, again?" Delsha asked, her voice soft and full of lust.

At this Delaine whole heartily smiled. "Of course," he said. And there they made love for the second, and last time.

When it had finished, Delaine quickly dressed and went out of the royal bedchamber. Delsha had fallen asleep, so he received no more hindrance from her. He wrapped himself in his cloak that he had entered the land with and he left the King's Tower. None moved to stop him and none moved to question him. He was beyond all that now. The rain battered down hard at him, but he was undaunted, for he was the nexus of every storm.

Delaine traveled for weeks. He came to many lands and spoke to many kings. All knew and trusted him. He spoke words about imminent war and urged them to gather their armies and wait for his return. They did as beckoned.

Delaine came finally to the empire of Gardothan, the Black Lord of the Dungeons and Sea. He gathered the goblins of Kraztagmolatch, and the Silverlains, beasts of silver scales from Solstar, and brought them under his command to Gardoth. There the Black Lord had his mighty forces already assembled, along with the legions from the depths of the Raging Sea. Together they began their march northward, and the Golnar, goblins, Silverlains, and creatures from the sea were joined by tens of thousands of men that marched north to spell doom. And waiting in secret was Delaine's final ally against those he would unite in the north, and those were the beasts of Iron Wood Forest, and they sensed that the end of the world was indeed coming.

Chapter 20: Endgame

"War is coming! War is coming!" Delaine screamed as he ran through the city gates of Grey Slate. Delaine stopped and grabbed a bewildered guard that was posted at the gate. "Go fool, to your captain. Armies march this way from the south. Assemble forces and go to meet them. They must be slowed so that messengers can be sent out to reach aid from those of the north," Delaine finished and shoved the man away and continued his way to the King's Tower.

Ghent heard bellowing and screams from his chamber and he went to his balcony to see what was taking place. He saw things that confused him. He saw two companies of Knights of the Red Dawn dressed in full armor racing out the city gate. He saw Prince Delaine that had been gone months since his marriage to Princess Delsha running to enter the King's Tower. Then something else happened. Ghent heard drums in the distance.

Ghent's blood froze and he looked slowly up to the edges of the horizon. There he looked and his face became a mask of horror. Lines arrayed for battle stretched for miles, but with his wizard eyes he saw something else. This invading army was not only of men but also of every foul beast ever told in myths and tales.

Ghent gripped his balcony rails until his knuckles turned white. Then in answer to the echoing drums, shrill horns rose up. The sounds of the horns were crude and full of wretched wickedness. The horns had been blown in the west, and Ghent turned that way and saw another army. An army that had emerged from Iron Wood forest, Ghent stared for a moment longer wondering if he were dreaming some nightmare that he would soon awaken from.

Ghent did not wake, and knew that he was not sleeping. This nightmare was real. He must go to the King, now. He turned and fled, stopping long enough to grab his staff as his door shut behind him.

Delaine made his way up the spiral stairways of the tower. The stairs ended and he came gingerly forward looking around corners to see who was around. He saw no one and brought out from his cloak his staff and continued onward. He turned down passages and came to door of the King's Chamber. He knew not that he was being watched from behind.

Two Blaze Knights stood before the door. Both stuck their hands out and called for Delaine to stop as he approached. "I am the Prince of Grey Slate, and I must see the King." Delaine said, his face was stern and his eyes held a fire that the guards did not notice.

"The King is in council and will not be disturbed," a Blaze Knight said as he moved his hand down to the hilt of his sheathed blade. Delaine's eyes followed the movement of the hand, and looked back up at the guards with a deeper fire in his eyes that the guards did notice this time.

"Let me through," Delaine commanded in voice that would not suffer disagreement.

"The King will not be disturbed," the Blaze Knight said again, this time with open anger in his voice.

Delaine's eyes flashed, "you fools." He said. "I am the king, now. Get out of my way!" Delaine said. He held up his staff, and the guards made to draw their blades, but they were too late. There was a flash of light and Delaine moved passed the fallen guards. He entered the King's Chamber and the door boomed closed behind him.

Ghent hidden in the shadows of the corridor stared in shock and horror of the guards' ruined faces. Words that Falgar had spoken to him came rushing back. He needed Falgar now, and at that thought Ghent turned and went with all haste to the tower's dungeons. He had to bring help to the King and last hope of Plantyr.

...

"I said, I was not to be disturbed," King Morlen said without looking up. King Morlen, Lord Tovit, and Princess Delsha stood together at the outside balcony speaking and looking to the south where the enemy armies were approaching. Princess Delsha was the first to look up at the intruder of the council. "Delaine!" She yelled out in delight.

"I have come back, my love," Delaine said to Delsha, but he did not go to her.

...

Ghent rushed as quickly as he could to the deep chambers of the castle. When he reached the bottom he could already hear the shouts of soldiers readying themselves for battle. He came into the dungeons with a clamor. He ran forward until he came to the secluded cell that held his master and friend.

Two guards stood their vigil before Falgar's prison cell. "The prisoner is to be released," Ghent said.

The two guards quickly shared a glance then looked back to the Protector of the Throne. "Protector, the prisoner is not to be released except under orders of the King himself."

Ghent had no time for this.

Ghent pulled his staff out and aimed it towards them. Falgar seeing this stirred in his cell. "All Plantyr is under attack. Grey Slate is about to be besieged by armies of men and monsters. You can either die here by my hand or you can die holding your swords in defense of Grey Slate."

The two guards looked at each other and then left without another word. Ghent raised his staff and a bright bolt shot from it. The cell door burst asunder and Ghent came in waving the smoke from his face. Falgar stood in wonderment. "What's happened?" Falgar asked. Ghent tossed his master his staff, which Falgar caught in the air. "Come on, I'll explain on the way to save the King."

...

Ghent and Falgar, Protectors of the Throne, came into the King's Chamber and were astonished on what they saw. Prince Delaine stood in the middle of the room demanding that the King turn over his powers to him. Lord Tovit was nowhere to be seen, and Ghent instinctively knew that he had been thrown from the tower.

"You fool, I am older than you and your world," Delaine sneered. "I am the Wizard Scourge, created by Gorthar Stronghammer, servant of Myr, the Prince of Darkness."

Scourge's skin became wrinkled and green and his eyes the color of slime.

"This world belongs to me now and you will die."

From Scourge's staff dark flames rippled forth and consumed the King of Plantyr. Delsha screamed in despair and the King in unfathomable pain.

"Princess, run!" Falgar cried out as he and Ghent came forth. Scourge turned slowly, meeting their defiant stares with a wicked gaze. A smile slithered onto his grotesque face and he laughed a horrible laugh, the laugh Falgar had heard during his vision of the destruction of the world.

"This ends here," Falgar said defiantly.

Scourge gave him a weighing look and outside there was the sound of battle.

"Agreed," Scourge replied and came forth with the speed of lightning and thunder.

Falgar and Ghent split apart, dashing to different corners of the chamber as flames and bolts sizzled forth at the place where the Protectors had just previously stood. Ghent fired back, blue bolts that exploded where Scourge had just stood. Falgar fired, lowering his staff shooting three quick bolts. Scourge dodged the first two then let green flame come from his right hand to incinerate the third.

"Weak, weak." Scourge laughed. "You are both too weak, you cannot defeat me," Scourge said and smiled, his wrinkled green face turning more horrid and demonic. His smile became a sneer and he continued his onslaught, which did not last long.

Epilogue:

Scourge stood in the ruined chamber of the King, the chamber that was now rightfully his. Four dead bodies littered the room. One was the King, who had fallen in his charred state back onto his throne; he sat there now and still smoked. Two others were the Protectors of the Throne, whose ruined and destroyed bodies were scattered throughout the chamber. The last was Princess Delsha. Scourge had found her and brought her back kicking and screaming naming him, Deceiver. Scourge slew her at the feet of her father, and there she rested like a dog at its master's feet.

Scourge went to the balcony and looked out at the destruction beyond. There was fire and death and the clear sound of ringing steel. He was the King of Plantyr and he was now too the King of Thoradorn, for he had made sure that Gardothan had fallen during the fighting. As he looked out to the destruction of the world snow began to fall and brightly overhead a comet burned, watching...

It was the first day of winter. It was the first day of the end.

Here Ends the First Part of the Forlyne, The Third Cycle of Light

Chapter 1: Awakening

There were great flashes on the horizon and with it the world ended.

Layman Salidan awoke abruptly. His eyes opened slowly, taking in the morning. They hurt from the breaking of REM sleep. Beams of the morning light broke from the clouds that had gathered in the sky. The western wind blew hard and with it came gusts of sand from the Endless Desert. The sands were large sheets of brown and gray and Layman lifted his arm off his bedroll to block the sprays.

There was a whiney and Layman turned and looked at his horse, Hank. The steed was tall and brown, loyal to the core, and Hank peered at his friend and traveling companion as sand relentlessly struck him. Hank shook his head and lowered it. Layman looked back to the brimming horizon. The wind quieted down and so did the sand. Layman wondered once again where he was. Memories came back to him in a jumbled mess. The images were a mix of battles, protests, and the speeches from, the Deceiver. There were also of course, fleeting thoughts of Johanna.

Layman came to his knees and then made his bedroll and placed it onto Hank. He scratched Hank behind the ears as he took a good look at the world around him. Sand looked back at him as far as he could see, that was all there was besides himself, Hank, and the stone arch rising out from the ground next to them.

The stone arch still stole the breath from Layman and it chilled him while the sun overhead baked him and caused sweat to pour from his brow. Two days Hank and Layman had camped next to the arch, after he felt the black wave consume him as he moved on closer to his goal of reaching, the Deceiver. Sending him to this wasteland that stood nowhere near the land of Jericho or his own world. He knew not where they were, but he feared that the Deceiver had found the Key.

Layman dusted off his jeans. He took his time rolling up his flannel sleeve of each arm and then placed his sombrero upon his head lined with thinning blonde hair. The shade from the hat's brow allowed Layman to search the horizon again with his gray eagle gaze without squinting. Again he saw nothing, and he knew not where to go, but moving on was his only choice.

Layman reached down and patted his right hip, always checking his six-shooter holstered there. He withdrew the gun and looked it over. It gleamed silver and bright in the rays of the sun overhead. Layman checked for sand that may have made its way into the barrel during the short sand storm. He shook small amounts of sand away, but mostly the old gun was clean.

Layman went over to the stone arch and retrieved a bundle he had left resting upon the uprising stone. It was a sword scabbard with the blade's pommel emerging from its top. The grizzled cowboy withdrew an inch of the blade from the plain leather scabbard. A blue blade shown its gleaming light up at him, Layman admired his family sword and slammed it home and slung it upon his back. His father had once told him that the sword was older than time itself. Layman had smiled, nodded and ignored the old story.

The Wanderer grasped Hank gently by the reins and tugged him east towards the rising sun. Trudging through the thick blowing sands came natural to the pair. Many miles they had traveled and over every type of terrain. Layman Salidan was a bounty hunter and he went where he would, searching always his prey. His prey this time was, the Deceiver, the Whisperer on the Wind, the Messiah of Jericho and the Lands of the West, none were his true name, but all were the same man. All of them were evil.

The Wanderer carried on. Sand filled up his brown leather boots and Hank sank his head low trying to escape the merciless afternoon blaze. As the sun turned from noon and checked for its second course for the day, Layman saw something new upon the distant edge of sky. Storm clouds gathered there, a massing army of darkness preparing to be led to let loose its thunder bombs under the direction of, the Deceiver.

When the storm came and broke it was nothing but dark wind with rolling thunder complimenting fiery bolts. Hank whinnied and tossed his head looking at his caretaker and friend. The rain was what they needed, what everyone of this land needed, but it came not and they journeyed forth thirsty and lost. The storm rolled and swept by with a terrible visage. The black rolled like the gimmicked motion pictures of Layman's lost world, looking animated and eerily supernatural.

The storm passed and with it so did the day, and revealed to the desert surfers below was the swirling spread of the vast stars lining the deep dome of blackness above. Layman stopped, his head tilted to the heavens. Hank only snorted. The stars lit the desert sands painting everything in a soft glowing blue. The shade drifted across the two wanderers, letting Layman's thoughts slip from the consisted pondering of where his prey may be and when his next drink of water would come. Hank let dung fall from below his tail.

Layman led through much of the night, unwilling to let his view of the stars become lost. They were different from his land, causing more confusion, and making him wonder if his dream was really just that. Besides, he had spent much time in the cities, he was an outcast yes, but desired all the same. The buildings' bright light did all but erase the stars. This was magical, this was wrong, and in its wrongness the Wanderer swam in bliss.

When twilight came before the coming of dawn, the Wanderer gasped and woke Hank from his crossing trance. On the horizon rose two planets at the world's edge. They were massive, like two swelled bodies ready to burst forth children by the multitude. The one on the right echoed with swirls of green and blue, like splotches on a cosmic canvas. The second planet was an angry red and about it was rings of gold and gray, circling like some giant saw preparing to sever the world in two.

The searching bounty hunter, the man whose business was to deal in death, whose fate was to fight the final fight in defense of the worlds, wept. Morning came and with it the sun rose between the two planets as if they were some great gateway that the solar star must first pay homage. The sun's breaking of dawn swept the skies in fire and hid the two planets in its flame. The Wanderer froze at this, baffled at the rising planets disappearance. Hank beside him begged him to continue onward.

For another hour they crossed the Endless Desert, until they reached a dune that hid the angry glare of the sun. There they camped and let sleep take them until mid-afternoon. The sun snuck its way around the dune and shouted a peek-a-boo at the resting travelers. Layman shared the last remnants of his canteen with Hank and they entered the wrath of the desert once again, knowing that they may find death before the next dune's comforting shadowy shade.

...

Hank whinnied consistently as they continued to cross the vastness of shifting sand. Their pace slowed, crawling to a grueling speed of foot over foot, step by step movement. Sweat stung the Wanderer's brightening red flesh. When the sun turned its way to its bed the Wanderer cursed and thanked it. Its last rays illuminated the Endless Desert in a burning glow, turning the sands a deep red, and then it was gone, hidden by the western horizon and its burning heat gone with it.

Night came much the same way as it had previously, with its shining blue stars adorning the heavens with their sparkling light. The Wanderer stopped his faithful friend. They could do no more traveling. They would sleep a bit then begin again while the night was still cool and long. The Wanderer went to Hank and stroked him behind the ears and from the horse's saddle bags Layman produced two handfuls of oats, which he fed to his friend, and took from the bag's contents an old crusty bit of bread for himself.

Layman Salidan ate silently, chewing over his bread thoughtfully as he looked upon the miracles of old, burning bright the night sky. When he had finished he unrolled his bedroll, patted Hank on the head, and then laid down falling instantly to sleep. Visions and dreams did not sweep themselves into the Wanderer's slumber, and when he was awaken by what he first thought was a gust of wind he believed that no time had transpired. He saw that he was wrong. The night's stars had swirled themselves in new positions explaining that three or four hours had slipped by.

The Wanderer's eyes widened and he stood up looking in the direction where the sun would remerge in a few hours. A haze was glowing on the sands that draped the earth, and it was approaching steadily. The Wanderer's hand dropped to his right side and drew in a fluent motion his country-style six-shooter that was holstered there. As the glowing haze grew closer, the Wanderer saw it for what it was, but tried to deny it. The moving haze skimming the sands was a shade, a spirit from beyond the Veil of Light or Darkness.

The wind drew its breath across the plain and exhaled deeply. The shade flickered and blew closer, its light shimmering like moonlight across an ocean wave. There was a whispering, sounds coming from both the wind and from the ancient mouth of the shade. The words slipped under reasoning of comprehension, blowing away with the desert breeze. The dimming shade caught the wind and rode it deep into the night and was gone.

Layman turned examining the night. All traces of what he had seen were gone. He shook his head, muttering to himself, not knowing if he had really seen what he believed. A name filled his head, The Whisperer on the Wind, and doubt filled the Wanderer's mind wondering if the Deceiver had spied him out. He holstered his gun, and after taking another long glance into the night, he lay down. Sleep was a long time in coming.

With the roasting touch of morning, the two distant wanderers, lost from their home, arose and continued their journey. An hour after sunrise clouds swarmed the sun and took the brunt of its daily blast. The clouds held and lingered throughout the day, and Layman was glad, for he was worried about Hank. Hank had grown tired. His pace slowed. His tongue wagging and his eyes peering often at his master hoping that he would offer him a drink.

The Wanderer hoped water would be shortly coming. He feared what his decision would be if Hank began to suffer too much and their plight remained hopeless. Layman's fears were erased long before sunset when he spotted a wagon on the horizon.

Chapter 2: Jag de Lue

The closer the Wanderer came into view of the wagon he realized it was not a wagon at all, but six of them closely bunched. The Wanderer smiled to himself knowing if even the folk in the caravan offered no help, at least there were remnants of civilization somewhere and they would most likely get a pointed finger of direction. Hank seemed to wake up from his dismal state. Feeling the hope resonate from his old friend made the horse believe water would be shortcoming.

They crossed the desert as quickly as possible hoping not to lose what Layman believed to be their only chance of survival. The wagons did not grow any smaller on the horizon, and soon Layman conjured the thought that they had stopped, and were waiting. They had stopped and by the early signs of the coming night they came upon the wagons.

The wagons were strongly constructed of wood and covered by tanned animal hide. They had formed a circle making a ring within the perimeter, and as the two approached there was the distant sound of singing. Small glows flickered from inside the ring of wagons. And the glows brought with them smells of burning wood and roasting meat on the wind's back. The Wanderer began to salivate, and he quickly wiped clean his mouth and chin, not wishing to have his first impression as a rabid beast.

The singing grew louder, and the tones of it solemn, but not entirely sorrowful. The Wanderer saw men standing at each of the visible wagon's reins. They were dressed entirely in black and their heads shaved, and the firelight illuminated off their heads. When the two wanderers approached close enough the singing came to a definite end, but not an abrupt stop, and the feel of eyes were heavy upon Layman Salidan.

The Wanderer stopped fifty yards from the ring of wagons. Layman brought up both his hands and touched his eyes, letting them then travel outward above his head. "Hail, I see you travelers. I come in peace, seeking shelter, food, and water." There was a deafening silence from the camp of wagons, and all was still, even the wind did not do its moaning. At last a man caped also in black broke their protective circle of wagons and came forward to where Layman and Hank waited.

The Wanderer kept his hands in the air trying to continue the non-threatening gesture as the man approached. The man, Layman could see, was older, tried by many years in the desert wind, a survivor, and a strong light came from his eyes. When the man came close enough, Layman slowly descended his arms.

The two silently watched each other for many moments. Layman was slightly shocked by the man for his appearance stirred some deep memory that he could not completely grasp. Layman searched and searched and caught a tiny corner of that memory letting the rest fall away into oblivion. The man before him was a member of a religious order. The man watching him seemed to catch Layman's understanding and spoke as if the Wanderer had finally commanded him to.

The man clothed in black touched his forehead, chin, and then heart. His eyes dipped forward as he did a slight bow then reconnected eye contact with Layman.

"Well met, stranger," The black clothed man began. "May the stars always shine bright and may the drifting sands always cleanse our sin." A small smile lit the man's face as he recognized that the stranger before him had never heard such words. "You come from not these lands, is it true?" The black clothed man asked already knowing the answer. Layman did a short negative shake of the head. The small smile the man was wearing slid into a larger one.

"I am Jaq de Lue, head priest of this wandering sect of Tevinites." His arm swept back indicating the people at the wagons. "We have traveled far, always searching for the Path, have you found it?" Layman shook his head no, not understanding what the man was carrying on about. The man nodded as this was the expected answer, and then continued. "Where do you come from, traveler?" The man looked Layman up and down. "For you surely do not wear the dress from any of these parts." Layman silently cursed his clothes, mostly his flannel, and probably his jeans too.

Layman reached up and removed his sombrero, placed it onto Hank's head causing a comical look of a horse with a hat, and then the Wanderer scratched his own head. "I come from many places," Layman started. "I come from Canaan, from the lands that dwell about Avalon, from the High City of Asgard, from the Swimming Halls of Ruadh, from the Green Mountains of Waianae, from the capital city of Jericho, from where I am now lost. I am the Wanderer. I am the Searcher. Bounty Hunter some name me, and that is my profession to some end. My prey is the wicked that roam and do harm to the people. I search now for the Deceiver, which has escaped me, who through his cunning ensnared Jericho, and I fear has brought its demise. I am Layman Salidan, and this horse is Hank, my trusty companion and only friend."

The Wanderer ended his speech and glanced off at the rising starlight. His gaze returned to Jag de Lue, who was studying him carefully. At last the old codger nodded, and turned to go back to the wagons. Layman stood there in dismay watching his only chance for help slip away. As if reading his thoughts, Jag de Lue turned about and hastily motioned for the two wandering companions. "Well, are you coming, Wanderer? The feast is about ready." Layman looked at Hank and patted his head and then the two walked into the camp.

Chapter 3: Within the Wagons

All eyes were upon Layman as he entered the circle within the wagons. With a quick glance Layman figured the group to be close to three dozen. Wafts of warm flame carried smells of roasting meats on the wind. Jag de Lue left the Wanderer's side and went to converse with two women dressed plainly in gray cloth with stitched bonnets covering their heads. The women took a quick glance towards the tired man and horse that had breached their camp then turned and entered a wagon.

Layman watched the women disappear and then turned to study the faces that still stared and watched him without shame or embarrassment. Layman forgot the onlookers when the two women returned and offered Layman a pitcher of cool water. Layman looked dumbly at the pitcher, and then smiled, took the pitcher and drank deeply. For Hank a bucket full of the precious substance was placed on the ground. Hank whinnied happily and drank his fill.

Layman wiped his mouth. The excess moisture on his hand he smoothed across his brow leaving a smeared streak of grime and dirt. He looked back towards his hostesses and peering under their bonnets saw now that they were both young and pretty. Layman could not predict the color of their hair, but their eyes he saw perfectly well. The two women stood staggered one behind the other showing the bravery of one and the reluctance of the other.

The young woman in front gave Layman a large smile. The color of her crinkled cheeks a radiant mixture with her eyes dark with the hint of violet. The girl behind, the first young woman's sister, had the look of shyness, and her eyes were like June's green grass.

"Thank you for your gift of water," Layman said. "For me and my horse. My name is Layman Salidan. I have traveled far and am now lost. Your hospitality is most appreciated, just ask Hank."

The two girls looked over at Hank who had his head completely emerged in the water bucket. Hank feeling the presence of eyes turned his way took his head out of the bucket and belched. The first girl laughed loud and hard, her voice carrying sweetness on the wind. The second girl looked back to her father's wagon.

"May I have the pleasure of knowing your names?" Layman asked. The first girl again let loose a tide of laughter that rolled over Layman and did its best to pull him down with its undertow. A smile grew on Layman's face, but was soon extinguished as the second girl turned and walked away. Layman watched her trudge back to the wagon in the fading light wondering what he had said to upset her.

"Don't mind my sister," the remaining girl said, drawing back Layman's attention to her. "She's just like that, all proper, and always following father's every rule." The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm Dai Jia. My sister's name is L'terin."

"Always proper?" Layman asked. "Did I say something, improper?" Dai Jia smiled brightly, her jeweled eyes glowing. "You asked us our names," Dai Jia replied. "It is not proper for a man to ask a lady's name, at least among Tevinites. L'terin most likely thinks you are a rude and manner-less oaf, I on the other hand think you are quite interesting and handsome," Dai Jia smiled again, but this time there was no blushing in her cheeks. Layman looked away recognizing her for what she was; a predator. Dai Jia made an act to itch her head, pulling back her bonnet momentarily letting long blonde curls to spill out about her head. Her beauty stunned Layman but he let his gaze go to the girl's returning father, Jag De Lue.

"Come," Dai Jia insisted.

She took his hand and pulled gently. Layman's eyes came away from Jag De Lue and then went to L'terin and finally fell back onto Dai Jia. She smiled seductively and then let his hand drop as her father approached. Dai Jia looked at her father, who in return gave her a disapproving look. She departed and several times turned back to look upon the new creature that had stumbled half dead into their camp.

The Wanderer watched her go out of the corner of his eye. The girl's father turned back once to weigh her in his mind and then turned his attention back to Layman. He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke. "She strays so often away from the Tevinite teachings." He said, half muttering. "I found her long ago. She was a baby left to the desert. I found her at Rock, a place of pilgrimage of Tevinite Priests."

Jag De Lue turned and looked the Wanderer in the eyes. "It was so strange. She was a baby, left all alone, yet she cried naught. The brutal sun burned down upon her, and she was not burned. There was no food or water. I do not know how long she had been there. But, I could not leave her." Jag De Lue said, finishing quietly.

"Why is this place, Rock, so important to Tevinite Priests?" Layman asked, clearly more interested in the places of this world than an abandoned little girl.

Jag De Lue looked upon the bounty hunter before him before slowly answering the question. "It is said that it is one of the Pillars. The great beams that connected the Realms before their destruction during, the War of the Gods."

"The Realms?" Layman asked incredulously.

"Are you trying to tell me that there is a place in this world that has existed before the counting of time, before the Realms of Confusion? I thought any thing left of those ancient times had been swept away after Rantarok and the rise of the Deceiver?"

"Rantarok? Yes, that's maybe so, but I do not know of this Deceiver that you speak of," Jag De Lue replied.

"But, here in Starworld we have our own problems. The rightful king has been usurped it is said by his court aid, who some say is a powerful magician. He came into this land not long ago, and though the king still sits on the throne it is said that it is the magician who pulls the strings and that the king voices his commands."

Layman looked balefully out onto the distant darkness where electric lightning crackled.

"What is this magician's name?" Layman asked returning his eyes to the priest.

"Estalgend. And the people of the city of the House of the Sun are already enamored of him, believing that he will unite all the lands and that through his deeds food will grow plentiful in the desert and no one will ever want for water again." A shadow of anger passed over Jag De Lue's face as he crunched out these facts.

"Let us walk," Jag De Lue said, motioning the Wanderer to follow him.

Both men were silent as they left the protection of the wagons and walked out into the cool sands of the desert at night. They crossed a dune and overhead the stars burned and wheeled, moving like fireflies. Shifting, they settled into a new constellation. For a brief moment it stayed, burning bright, and it appeared as a tower on the heights of the world.

It was the tallest tower Layman had ever seen, though he had come from a world of great advancement, where tall structures were commonplace. Man had now surpassed any abilities that the ancients once had before all was broken in the universe and set to drift alone. The tower then became a haze, and with a quick flicker was gone. The stars had returned to normal. Layman looked quickly to Jag De Lue, who watched him coolly, weighing him with his eyes.

"By Tevindal's Grace, did you see that?" Layman whispered softly.

Jag's eyes narrowed slightly, perplexed and confused. "I saw nothing. What is it that you saw?" He asked, deeply interested in this being that came not from his own world, but from some distant place that had ended in fiery ruin.

Layman looked back to the sky, back to the stars. They looked back at him innocently, like they had revealed nothing to him, though in truth they had revealed the place of the Realms of Confusion's salvation or damnation. The wind blew softly and the desert moaned. Quiet followed.

"I saw a tower in the sky," Layman said moving close to Jag De Lue. "Then it was gone, as if blown away by this desert wind, the stars like shifting grains of sand."

"Are you in league with him?" Jag De Lue demanded. The question came out powerfully and suddenly. It was as if he had struck the Wanderer with force. Layman recoiled, falling back as if it was a mighty blow, and indeed it was.

Layman's eagle eyes burned brightly for just a moment with a fury that caused Jag De Lue to step back, lost in a flowing sheet of fear. With a deep breath Layman cleansed himself, releasing his anger, leaving him weak and sad. He sat upon the crest of the dune and let the ancient heavenly lights bathe him in peace before answering.

"Everything I have ever loved has been lost because of him," Layman whispered, barely audible over the blowing wind.

"And everything that I am is because of him. I have chased him across worlds. Hunting down his minions or other evildoers. I have nothing save my horse, my clothes, and my weapons. I may not be a holy man like you, Jag, but I serve Tevindal regardless," Layman finished, holding Jag De Lue's gaze.

The priest nodded beside him, and for many long moments they each said nothing. They were content to watch the world about them, named Starworld, one of the few places left in the Realms of Confusion that such sights were still visible. Layman felt like he was close now to some great apocalyptic answer, but he did not know what the question was. A wisp of cloud came with the breeze, shading the stars and filling the world with darkness.

"It is time to go back," Jag De Lue finally said, gently putting his hand on Layman's shoulder. "We have a long journey tomorrow. We travel to Rock, that is why we are out here in the open desert, we are on a pilgrimage to see the Holy Site."

The two men began their way back, but the Wanderer did not hold silent.

"Jag, you spoke of your daughter, Dai Jia. She worries you, doesn't she?" Layman asked.

"Yes." It was a simple response.

"But what of your other daughter? What I have seen she seems the opposite."

"Yes." The reply came again. But this time a small smile grew upon his face.

"L'terin is very special, who has a story that is deeper and stranger than Dai Jia's," Jag De Lue finished looking back to Layman to hurry his pace.

Layman did not push the subject of her beginning. There would be plenty of time for that later. Instead, he asked, "what does her name mean?"

Jag De Lue stopped. "It means Shield of Stars," he said, this time his smile spread wider as if he knew something other men did not. They continued the rest of their walk back to the wagons silently. And on the sky's edge the two worlds began to rise up from the depths, opening their stellar gateway.

Chapter 4: Riding the Desert

The hot sun beat down, shedding its burning star fire out onto the plains of the wasted earth. The parts of the land that were not covered by sand were parched and cracked as if begging for a drink that would not come. Wagon wheels grinded the sand, sending it up into the air to fall back to the earth in mockery of rain. Women and children were hidden away under the protective barriers of the wagons. Men walked wrapped in garments to hide from the beams of singeing heat.

Layman was granted passage within Jag De Lue's wagon. Hank was led by a sturdy lad of nineteen summers, who gave the horse more water than he took himself. Jag and his wife were at the reins, leaving Layman with only two companions, Dai Jia and L'terin.

Dai Jia sat in a corner, her eyes hungrily upon Layman, which he tried to act like he did not notice. She noticed this and it humored her and watched him the more, waiting for his eyes to accidentally stray to hers. But he watched L'terin. Her hands carefully turned pages of an old leather bound book. Her eyes flickered over the words taking in all that they saw, consuming them, making the knowledge her own.

"What is it you read?" Layman Salidan asked her. His voice resonated throughout the wagon like a booming trumpet over a silent cliff. Her eyes lingered on the page that she read, not wanting to look up at the strange being that had somehow entered their world. But, she had been asked a direct question, rude in her opinion or not she decided to respond.

"It is the Book of Saera, or at least a partial translation of it. Much of it has been lost, or hidden. The Book was found after Rantarok and parts of it have filtered out across the Realms of Confusion in the thousands of years since then."

Her eyes met his. They were soft and beautiful, kind and knowledgeable. His heart bunched up in his chest and he looked away, embarrassed. Moving the direction of his eyes caused him to meet Dai Jia's stare. It was evil and full of malice, for she had seen the way he had reacted to her half sister. He looked away, for there was a fire there that unnerved him.

Layman turned back to look at L'terin, but her eyes were already back on her book. He noticed something else though, her eyes did not move. They stayed like glittering gems of some great statue, whose gaze looks eternally to what position they were originally fixed. He watched her gently, silently. Her chest rose slowly and deeply, like one short of breath. Slowly, he let his eyes move away as a feeling filled him that he had not felt since he was young, before he was named, Wanderer.

The day passed, and the dusty hot world made its way to the coolness of night. Dai Jia was first to leave the wagon as it stopped. She made a quick move to the back, threw open the flap and jumped out. L'terin made her way to the back to go outside and Layman held open the flap and offered his hand to help her down. She refused his hand and refused to meet his eyes, but he saw a satisfied look on her face, which she tried to hide from him. He smiled to himself and followed her down.

The world was a blue haze. Lit by the brightness of the surrounding stars. Layman looked up at them, still lost in wonder of the lights that adorned the night sky. In all of his travels he had seen very few of such lights, but here they were plentiful and beyond count. It was unnerving and heart lifting, but he was sure it meant something else, too. He was taken out of his trance by warm fur nudging his hand. Startled he looked quickly away from the sky to Hank, who had snuck quietly up to him.

"Hank, my friend," Layman laughed, "you look hot and tired."

Hank looked at him blankly and then licked his face. His tongue was wet and slimy, and to Layman both gross and heartwarming. But the Wanderer was very happy that is was a wet tongue licking his face, it meant Hank was being given plenty of water and for that Layman was very thankful to the Tevinites. Layman continued to stroke Hank's head as he looked about the camp.

It was a busy sight. Women were bringing out cook pots to prepare supper, while the men who had ridden in the hot day's heat sat exhausted on the ground drinking cup after cup of water. Children ran by playing, happy to be free from the wagons to play with their friends and move about. Layman looked for Jag De Lue and saw him talking to several men. Next to him stood, L'terin.

She felt his gaze and turned and looked at him. Layman caught staring was embarrassed and quickly tried to avert his eyes. His sudden movement caused him to accidentally smack Hank on the head. Hank snorted and stomped his feet. "Sorry Hank," Layman muttered under his breath and looked back at L'terin. He caught the look of laughter on her face as she turned back to her father.

"Come on, Hank." Layman said as he steered the horse in the other direction. "Let's see if we can find something to eat."

He went back to Jag's wagon and talked briefly to the priest's wife as she dipped some vegetable stew for him. She gave him also a cup of water and a feedbag for Hank. Dai Jia stood close to her adopted mother and stared at Layman during the whole exchange, but he ignored her and was off dragging Hank to a quiet corner to enjoy his dinner and collect his thoughts.

He was soothed while sitting there in the coolness of the night. The warm food and cool drink washed away his thoughts of his chase of the Deceiver and he thought of the places he had been and the people he used to know. At first he did not notice the presence that came up to him and when he did his hand went instinctively to the weapon he carried at his waist. He looked up and was surprised that it was L'terin. They were alone, for most of the Tevinites had gathered at the middle of the camp to converse and sing songs.

For a long time he stared at her saying nothing. She looked back, weighing him, studying him. At last she broke the silence.

"I find you odd," she said. It seemed to Layman both a statement and a question.

Still he continued to stare at her. Her eyes narrowed as if she was mocking him.

"You must know that you are rude even though I know now that you do not mean to be. A man that has had a lady speak to him will usually ask her to sit by him if he is sitting," she finished with an expecting look on her face.

"Will you please sit down?" Layman finally asked after finding his voice.

"Of course I will, thank you." She said as she sat, and then she turned to look at him.

Her emerald eyes bore into to him and he felt like looking away. But he noticed too that they were not angry eyes, but those weighing him, searching as if he was an enigma to her that she wished to solve. Her eyes softened and she looked away, first to the camp then to the sky, and finally back to him. Unsure what to say Layman said, "last night I spoke to your father. I asked him what your name means. He said it meant, Shield of Stars. Is that true? He smiled like it had some secret meaning."

"It is true," she said. The same smile touched her lips. "I am very proud of my father," she said. "He is considered wise and a scholar even among the Priests. He has read the Book of Saera many upon many times. He has learned much from it, much of the ancient histories and legends of the heroes, mighty beings, and Tevindal."

L'terin bent forward and with her finger she made a circle in the sand, "long ago there was the Ball of Light," she said.

"I have heard of the Ball of Light," Layman answered.

L'terin looked at him to indicate that she was not yet finished speaking.

"Sorry," he leaked out, with that she continued.

"Yes," she said. "But do you know that there has been several incarnations of it? There have been several incarnations of time, too? It is said that it has always been there, sitting in the deep vast darkness of space. It is Devindal's perverting touch that destroys it each time. It is this dark touch that creates the universe and all who dwell in it. Some believe, like my father, that it is Tevindal's Will that this happens so that there may be life, joy, sorrow...beauty."

Her finger stopped tracing the circle and she looked at him with eyes that to Layman were precious jewels.

"With the first turning of the Ball of Light," L'terin continued. "The stars were formed and they hatched bringing forth the Ancients Ones, the Falina." L'terin's hand spread forth as she waved to the sky and stars above. "Among them was one that held a destiny greater than all the rest. Her name was Breina, but she was also known by her title, the Goldenflower."

"The Goldenflower preformed many marvels of legend and there was much sorrow and beauty that were caught in the golden web she sowed. During the Soul Wars she took a human lover, a great warrior named, Paraic. Tragedy followed them and they fled the world of Earmar and sought another place, so that they may share their love."

"But one cannot hide from destiny and it found her and bewitched her. Her heart turned away from Paraic and fell into shadow. He chased her across the worlds and met up with her at the great tower where their love was first conceived. In his anger he destroyed the tower taking both of them down into ruin, and as the world of life ceased for them, it was Paraic that named her in that hour, Breina L'terin, Goldenflower Shield of Stars."

Her story ended and both of them sat in silence. The only sounds were the calm breath of the wind and the dying laughter of those still gathered about the fire in the center of the camp. Layman Salidan racked his thoughts still not seeing the connection of the story and why this young woman had been named, L'terin.

"You do not yet see the connection or the meaning?" She asked.

"No, my lady," Layman replied. "I do not. I understand that you are named after a great legend that had a tragic ending, but I do not see yet what Shield of Stars is supposed to mean."

L'terin gazed at him and took a deep refreshing breath. Her voice came out cool and soft.

"Let me tell you another story. It also contains the name L'terin. It is from a chapter in the Book of Saera called, Starlight's Twilight. It is a tale of four heroes gathered from across the Realms of Confusion."

"Long ago, after the first War of the Gods, the Realm of the Echoing Thrall was consumed in darkness and war. It was a beautiful world, lit only by the multitude of stars that sparkled and adorned the deep darkness of the Forever Night Sea. But, upon it on the Ridge Cliffs was the great Sphere of Antion where the Witches of Alordian, sorceresses of the Enchantress Celantra were imprisoned and sealed into vaults. The seals faded and crumbled and the Witches came forth."

"They gathered about them an evil host and without warning stormed the watchtower Brunaderin, which had been held by the servants of Tevindal since the end of the War of the Gods. The tower was cracked and its power broken. Its halls became demented and filled with horrid shadows. The witches with their victory increased in power, and the fallen protectors of Brunaderin rose again as undead demons."

"The swelled ranks of the Witches' forces swept across the realm crushing all remaining resistance. Through desperation and determination a Tevinite Priest offered a prayer up at the last falling stronghold of the realm, the Steeple of the Ice Star. The prayer was whispered from the priest's dying lips and as it floated like a wisp of cloud into the great vastness of the Forever Night Sea, Tormar, God of Wind, heard it faintly."

"Tormar brought this thread of news quickly to Achaines, the God of War, but Achaines was weary of his mighty battle with Kaevon, and tired of battle as all the Gods were. So, he turned his attention to the mortals that had arisen amidst the turmoil of war and lay the burden upon them."

"Four, he found that he thought suitable and he gathered them from across the Realms of Confusion, hand picked and delivered them on the Shores of Twilight bathed only in the blue light of the ancient stars. He gave to them weapons used by Falina spirits, crafted in a time before even Mighty Achaines, and he sent them forth to war and legend. Of these heroes there were Layulana Whitetree, a fairy princess. There was Ogrey Runebane, an old and wise wizard with a magical staff and a gauntlet of great power. Voldar Firesword, a Talidon, was like you; he hunted evil lawbreakers and criminals over Realms and worlds."

"But most importantly, Achaines brought Star Evenwind. She was a Knight of the Clergy called Linaan Tu' Terrin or the Keeper of the Stars. A beautiful blue skinned woman with hair the color of red fire. She was given a starsword that held resemblance to Achaines' own blade Heaven's Star. She named it, Sapphire. A shield of gold too was given to her, and its circle was inlaid with diamonds. Without her knowing of the death of Breina, Achaines' own mother, she named it L'terin, Shield of Stars."

Layman scratched his head. "She did not know of Breina?" He asked.

"Of Breina she knew, but of the Paraic naming her L'terin, she did not," L'terin replied.

"How would you even know that?" He asked incredulously. This Evenwind lived thousands of years ago, she was a knight, and she may have known such things."

L'terin looked at him. Her eyes for a moment, just a moment, flared. Thoughts raced through her mind, thoughts of one who knew an answer others only guessed at, thinking they were right. He was confused that was all, was the thought she finally settled on. He did not know such things, for where he had come from, some place that stretched the Realms of Confusion, the Book of Saera did not exist.

"The name L'terin, that Paraic named Breina at the time of their deaths was written only by the spirit of Saera, who was not known to the people during that turning of the Ball of Light," she said. "Her book was never seen by mortal or immortal eyes, save her own until after Rantarok, when she flung it into the Forever Night Sea as the walls of Fernoth crumbled and were swept away by the tide of darkness. The book was recovered here in Star World and its text read by only the greatest of Tevinite scholars."

"Star," she said continuing her story, "led her band from the Shores of Twilight across the Solar Sands to the Enchanted Forest and the Cave of the Spider. They met many foes and L'terin; Star's shield defended them. A long time they traveled in darkness under the earth in the Cave of the Spider. A great battle they fought against the spider and it was at last slain."

"Cutting through the spider's webs they followed the empty darkness up to the Cosmic Dust Fields. The fields were of ancient ash from exploded nebulas and planets destroyed during the War of the Gods. For leagues they walked across the sands tiring of the epic journey. They did not know if they were lost, thinking that the desert was endless they feared that they would perish and not see their task through. But, that was not the case and they came finally to a bridge that spanned an abyss to the shoulder of the Ridge Cliffs where stood the watchtower, Gualiath."

"But to cross the Bridge of Scattered Twilight they had to face a solitary figure. Star went forth alone, for the bridge was narrow. There she met a Dread Lord, and over an abyss of darkness they fought a fierce duel. The Dread Lord was the stronger, being of ancient blood. The fallen Falina let loose mighty stroke after mighty stroke beating back Star to the rail of the bridge, trying fiercely to send her over the edge to her doom."

"But, Star held forth L'terin before her and that protective shield absorbed the strokes. At last the Dread Lord prepared to make his final stroke, which would have been the death blow of Star and the falling apart of her band. Star saw her coming doom and had never expected it to be at the hands of one who was once a Falina, still a Falina, but had fallen to the sway of Devindal and his servants. And as the Dread Lord raised his ancient sword, crafted by hands during the Dunlyne, a bright light exploded, but the light did not come from the blade. It came from her shield and it shined like a force of stars, and being blinded by its light the Dread Lord was rendered helpless, and in that moment Star slew him and threw him off the bridge into the abyss, a reward he had justly earned."

"Thus, the name of L'terin was earned, just as Breina had earned it through her countless protections of the Falina, who were once and are the stars. And in all of the Torlyne no other took that name or named their weapons such. It is only now, in the third cycle of light, the Forlyne that the name has come again and it has come to me. But, Star too came to an evil end. For she was raised up for her deeds and came to the Tower of the Dead and was among those that were destroyed at Rantarok."

With her story ended she looked back up to the multitude of stars, from which her world was named and was silent. No doubt she thought now how would her name measure up to the protection or defense against evil that plots against them. For if her stories were true, which Layman believed they were, for he found nothing about her to be false, then she too may be destined to accomplish some great feat before the end of her time in the Realms of Confusion. Layman thought all these things but what he said to L'terin was, "you know much."

L'terin took her eyes from the sky and looked at him with a genuine smile. She appreciated the compliment greatly, for knowledge was important to her. But, she was also not a braggart and remembered this as her cheeks became red as she blushed.

"Yes," she replied. "I know many stories, but some stories I do not know. Like yours, what is your story Layman Salidan, Wanderer of Worlds?"

Layman choked, not expecting this question, though he probably should have. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He closed it then, opened it again to see if on a second attempt that his voice might have been found. He found it and spoke in a low voice as if his tale came from some deep place in his memory that he had long forgotten or chosen to forget.

"I come from the world, Glitnar. It is a world that rests on the other side of the Forever Night Sea. It was a world of great prosperity and justice. A place that was not affected much by the turning of time, left alone and forgotten by demons and wars. We had many technological advances not found anywhere else in the Realms. We had a World King, whose title was the Forseti. All this was true until the Deceiver came."

"The Deceiver?" L'terin asked. "You mean, Scourge." She said, her voice full of venom.

Layman grew silent. Yes, he thought to himself. Yes, that name does just fine. Layman nodded, and before he could continue L'terin's mother came to them. She eyed Layman politely, almost with interest, wondering how a man had finally been able to get L'terin to speak to him.

"My dear, the night grows late and the stars glow dim. It is time for bed."

"Yes," L'terin spoke, her words faltering. "It is late." She looked around and saw that the campfire was low and most of the Tevinites had already made for bed. She turned her eyes to Layman. The way she looked at him now was different, Layman thought. Her eyes slid to her mother then back to Layman.

"Perhaps, you will finish your tale to me sometime, Wanderer." It was not a question.

"Perhaps," Layman replied with a nod. His eyes were soft. He looked at her briefly then down to the sand on which he sat. "Goodnight, my lady." he said, "May the stars shield and protect you."

She smiled, and then stood up next to her mother. "Goodnight, Wanderer of the Stars." Then both of the women turned and went towards their wagon. It was a long time coming before Layman went back. And for a long time he sat on the sand under the stars, thinking.

Chapter Five: To the Meeting Place

Many dreams plagued Layman Salidan throughout the night. He dreamt about the Fall of Garda, where his companion, Othic, was slain by the light flashes that fell from the reddened sky. He dreamt of the Spring of Fable, the island in the Forever Night Sea where he quenched his thirst and was given the sight to find the paths between worlds. He dreamt of Johanna and the love they shared before Layman became the Wanderer, the last of his kind. But of his dreams and nightmares, the one that haunted him the most upon waking was of the snow peaked mountains and the tower in the sky.

This he had seen in his vision in the desert. Jag De Lue had been frightened when he had his vision. Most likely he saw it as some devilish form of demon craft given by Devindal himself. But that was not the case. At least, Layman thought this was not the case.

He was not a servant of Devindal that much he knew was true. But, as for the origin of the vision he did not know. It may have been sent to him from Devindal, or Tevindal may have sent it. Or, Layman thought, he may just be going crazy after all his journeys across space and time. He had been to many worlds, seen many people die, and had wandered long, alone. This vision though, was something different. It had importance that Layman just could not grasp a hold.

There was something about the mountains and the tower and there was something else. He turned all of his thought towards this. What was it? What else was there that had seemed so important in his dream? A bridge?

His thoughts were shattered as Jag De Lue stirred him. "We go now," he said. "I think today you are ready to ride outside with the men rather than in the wagons with the women and children."

Irritation shot through Layman. This way he would not be able to speak to L'terin again till nightfall. But there would be no way to refuse Jag, and perhaps this is what the Priest wanted, for Layman was sure he knew of the late evening he had spent talking with the man's daughter.

Layman dressed quickly and grabbed his hat as he exited the wagon. As he left he quickly glanced for L'terin. He did not find her, but Dai Jia he did see, and her eyes were flames that unsettled him. He held her venom gaze though he wished to do anything but look at it. She did not fit in here; she did not fit in with these people. Layman slowly turned his head and went out to the desert.

The light blinded him as the flap was turned back. He stepped down and into the sand. It did not drift, for there was no wind in which to cool the earth. The morning sun was hot and bright and stung his already sunburned flesh. He felt the need for water rise in him already, but pushed down the urge not wishing to look weak in front of these heat-hardened people.

The Wanderer placed his sombrero style hat on his head and used the shade from the bill to try and locate Hank. He laughed to himself when he saw the horse. Hank too had been thirsty and was drinking out of a trough. Well, drinking was a relative term, Layman thought, for the horse's head was completely submerged in the water.

Layman placed both index fingers in his mouth and let loose a shrill whistle. Hank's head shot out of the water sending a wave of it onto a Tevinite that was walking by. The cool liquid that drenched him startled the man. He looked around and when he realized what had happened he just let out a hearty roar of a laugh.

Hank trotted over to Layman and the Wanderer patted his back. He whispered to his horse with a smile. "If you would have done that on Wor, we would have been in a gun fight."

Hank only snorted. The Wanderer gave him a hard pat, and then mounted himself on the horse's back. Layman gave him a nudge in the ribs and a pull on the reins and they started forward. The wagons started to get rolling, kicking up sand in their wake. The sun continued its journey into the height of the day as the camp moved off into the land of mirages.

The day moved on. It was a droning, relentless journey. Time became irrelevant; there was only heat and thirst. Layman's skin burned and became a crispier red, though he believed it had before reached its limit of redness.

Layman was thankful when night finally found the courage to make an appearance. They stopped just shortly before sunset, the wagons creaking to a stop. Layman dismounted Hank and led him over for a drink. His gulps were deep and long and Hank once again dunked his head.

The women and children made their appearance while Layman looked about for L'terin. She did not come out of the wagon. The Wanderer forgot about her as soon as the wafting smell of stew began to ride the wind. He ate hungrily, consuming his food with a quickness that surprised him.

Like the night before a young woman approached him as he sat. He smiled deeply into his bowl. He had thought about L'terin all through the long day and he was glad that she had possibly thought of him too. He looked up prepared to look deeply into L'terin's beautiful eyes. Dai Jia's looked back at him.

His smile faltered, momentarily confused, and then it turned into a frown. Her head tilted. On her face was a cruel knowing smile. "Thought I'd be my sister, huh?" Dai Jia said, her cruel smile almost turning into a sneer. "So sorry to disappoint you."

She sat down hard. No, Layman thought, she did not sit she fell down. She looked at him and this time she smiled true, smiled wide and there was a malicious wickedness there.

"What did you and my sis talk about last night? Old stories? On and on she goes with those trifle old boring things. You know," she stated with her eyebrows raised like she had some great revelation. "There are other things a boy and girl can do besides discussing boring old stories. And," she drew out the word. "It would not be boring at all." She placed her hand on Layman's arm and he almost swore he saw the tip of her tongue lick her lips.

Layman slowly peered into her eyes. They were eyes that were hungry and full of lust. Something else he glimpsed there too; evil. What was this girl's story? Who was the small child that Jag De Lue had found abandoned and alone at Rock, the site of holiness where pilgrims gather? Layman backed slowly away and doing so caused her eyes to narrow so that they appeared as slits like those of a serpent's.

Her lust fell from her face and her face darkened like a coming storm. That storm broke and raged in her eyes, letting its lightning dance there. Layman swore he almost saw a flash of green light, like a land of slime hidden by a sheer veil. He backed further away, now unaware that he was doing so. The world seemed to have stopped and in this timeless void he thought anything might happen. Her lips curled and he feared she would spit venom from a forked tongue.

Her teeth began to elongate, turning into fangs, from where saliva dripped. Her face darkened more turning from a tanned white to embrace a greenish hue. Her body narrowed, her breasts were swallowed, her clothes ripped away. Her naked flesh began to scale and her fingers sprouted claws.

Before Layman was now a demon serpent, a possessed desert lizard. He felt terror creeping up within him. A scream tried to escape his lips, but was frozen in his throat. The demon crept closer, preparing to pounce on its petrified meal. Layman had faced down a thousand enemies on a hundred worlds, but this was altogether different. He tried to close his eyes to miss the vision of his demise.

As he closed his eyes there was a blinding flash. He blinked, momentarily dazed and slowly regained vision. The demon was gone and all that was before him was a deflated and heartbroken young girl. Tears streaked Dai Jia's face and her sobs were heavy, but silent. Layman could not tell if what he had seen previously was real or some hallucination.

He stared at her, the shock broadening on his face. Her tears came harder now, like a torrent of rain flooding the land. She whispered something but it was inaudible. She tried again, but to no avail. With one last breath she said, "I must do what I must," and with that said, she fled.

The night was again filled with dreams for Layman. He was in a courtyard of a great castle. The air was thick with summer sweat of the multitude gathered there, the multitude gathered to listen to the Messiah. The Messiah of Jericho people called the speaker high on the parapet above the assembled crowd. On every word the people hung, after every cry the people echoed it. But, there were those that remained silent, though they were few, too few.

The Messiah was the King's counselor. How he had entered the court, people did not know. Of what had happened to his rivals people did not care. Those who did and made it known disappeared as well. Layman had kept his mouth shut, with those of his party. They were not of this mighty kingdom, Jericho and the Lands of the West, nor were they of this world. But, they thought they knew this man who spoke and ensnared the masses. They believed he was the Whisperer on the Wind, he who had brought their own world to an end through bloodshed and betrayal.

The Messiah was stirring up hatred against the league's ancient enemy Himin, the eastern alliance known as Heaven-Mountain. A great wall separated the two powers and the fragile peace had held for close to a millennia. A peace forged before the growth of the kingdoms into powers that were each millions of swords strong.

The dream was that of a vision of foresight, he saw as it was happening, but knew the result as well. The Messiah of Jericho's words were like fanned flames to those that listened. Soon, war broke out between the two nations and the carnage mounted on both sides. After the start of the war, the king mysteriously died, putting the Messiah in complete control. It was then that Layman and his small band knew that the Messiah was in fact the Whisperer on the Wind, for those who came to their senses named him, Deceiver.

Layman and his followers knew it was time to strike. Through their cunning they crept into the castle of Jericho, the ancient fortress, Vangurstag. But their attempt failed as they were found out and many members of the party were slain as they were forced to retreat. Only Layman and Johanna escaped.

Though their loss was great, the two had sworn an oath to continue on. They went into hiding for the search for the would-be assassins swept across the city and many innocents were put to the sword. They hatched a new plan, one that they believed would be successful, but it was too late. The war had ended with swift suddenness, and a new and more terrible evil had taken its place, plague.

The plague had started in the towns of Heaven-Mountain and killed all that were swept up in its path. The Himin Empire quickly crumbled and presented its surrender. The Messiah of Jericho did not accept the plea to stop the war, and the war-machine marched on, slaughtering all that it encountered. But, the armies of Jericho were as immune to the plague as those of Himin, and they too began to die in droves.

The plague spread its way back across the ancient dividing wall into the heart of the lands of Jericho. It was said that when a messenger told the Messiah that the plague would soon infect the city, the Messiah's only response was laughter. Time had run out for Layman and Johanna and they had no choice but to flee the world. All that lived in those lands faded to the void as the world was crushed by the Deceiver. Layman would soon encounter the Deceiver in a new world, but the price of that confrontation would be his love, Johanna's life.

Layman awoke from the delirium in a fit of jerky movements and moans. All was dark, save for the blue spiraling stars that wheeled overhead. The bathing blue calm forced him to relax, but his heart still pumped quickly from the terrible memories. He tried to force himself to believe that it was just a dream, but knew it was a true memory from his past.

The pledge to stop the Deceiver had not been fulfilled by any of the original seven that had sworn the oath. He was the last of that band, and he knew if he failed here in Star World as he had in all the worlds, this place too would perish. His thoughts quickly went to L'terin as that thought settled on him. He would not lose her too he thought, not like the way he lost Johanna.

Layman sat up looking again to the stars of the Ancient Falina. He still had time was his first thought. From what he knew of Estalgend, was that he may or may not be the one he searched for, this Scourge, as L'terin had named him. He believed in his gut that he was the destroyer of worlds, but it did not seem that all of his pieces seemed yet in place.

Layman looked about him, close by he saw Hank, who appeared to be snoring. "Probably dreaming about apples," Layman muttered as he stood up. Layman stretched out the kinks and made his way to the inner circle of the wagons.

Most of the Tevinites had long made their way to their wagons and beds. Some slept on bedrolls under the stars and some still sat around dim fires engaged in conversation. Layman spied Jag speaking to a hooded figure next to a dying flame. Layman moved slowly, but purposefully, coming closer to the pair to be noticed, but to not overhear that which they spoke.

Layman heard their hush voices speaking in low tones. They were barely more audible than the slow crackling of the last log in their fire. Jag looked up as he noticed Layman's approach. Jag looked long at Layman as if the man was trying to decide something. At last with his mind made up he stood and motioned to come join him.

The hooded figure did not look up right away, but rather busied his self with the dying fire. The twigs that he poked it with caught flame and soon the fire found new life and warmth. Layman welcomed the heat that came from the fire. He did not realize to that moment that he was cold and he gave an involuntary shiver that seemed to reach all the way to his bones.

The hooded figure did not look up but said, "You must find it strange that a world so hot during the day can be so cold at night." It was not a question, but a statement. Layman nodded, though the hooded man was not looking his way.

A thought crossed Layman's mind and he spared a quick glance to Jag and then back to the hooded man. "You know I am not of this world, then?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question in Layman's opinion. He knew the answer.

The hooded man gave a short laugh that could have almost been a cough. "Yes, lad, we have been speaking about you if that is what you are getting at."

For the first time since the exchange Layman noticed that though the voice was gruff it did have kindness in it.

Jag interjected, "take no offense lad. It not everyday we come across a traveler such as yourself. It is news that must be spread to those I hold counsel with, especially in dark times such as these. Let me introduce you to Gala De Hadd."

Gala for the first time looked up and slid the heavy robe back from his face. He was old, but strong, for there was a fierce determination in his deep blue eyes. His skin was not wrinkled, but taunt and stretched and appeared as leather. Covering the man's face was a short-cropped beard that was wiry and gray.

"He is part of the Tevinite council," Jag continued. "The Council of Eight, it is known as. Each tribe of Tevinites has a representative upon the council and each member has a specific job. Gala is known as, the Messenger."

Gala stood up and formally bowed to Layman and the Wanderer offered his hand for the old man to shake it. Gala looked curiously at Layman's hand, but eventually took it, commenting afterwards, "People have such strange customs."

Gala then sat back down replacing his hood back upon his head. Jag motioned Layman to sit as the tribe leader sat back down next to his companion. There was a moment of silence as Gala's eyes peered out under his robe to look at Jag. Jag understood the unspoken words and said, "you may speak freely, Gala, this man is not an agent of Devindal."

"I have been to see all the tribes and they all will be at Rock by the time we arrive," Gala started. "The rumor of the desert is that there has been some 'altercations' west of Golarith. There is talk of strange things, things that did not make much sense. Things that sound more apt to come from frightened children in the night."

"What sort of things have you heard about," Layman interjected.

Gala turned and looked at Layman, "monsters." he said. The expression on his face dared Layman to laugh at the absurdity of such a statement, but Layman found it of no humor and only nodded his understanding.

"Good," Gala said still looking at Layman. "The boy is no fool." Gala turned his attention back to Jag and continued.

"These things, these monsters are not all the same it is said. Some are man shaped, but wrapped in cloaks or armor that it is hard to get a good look at them, others are something else."

"The Deceiver is building his army," Layman whispered to himself.

Both Gala and Jag looked at him. The Wanderer of Worlds stared back at them.

"It appears more than ever that Estalgend is this Whisperer on the Wind you have been hunting. This council at Rock will be the most important council of our time," Jag said his eyes drifting to the dying embers in the fire.

"Jag," Gala started slowly. Jag's eyes moved up to look into Gala's. Gala's voice became softer somehow, if it was ever possible for steel to be soft. "It may be time we sent the Emissary to Dagar Domin."

Silence followed. The crackling of the fire answered.

"Only if it is the will of the council," Jag finally, but slowly countered.

"I have been down that path," Gala said. "But I could not follow it all the way to the end. It was not I who was meant to open the last door. The Book I found, it sat there as if it awaited me, but to cross that last boundary I was not put on Star World for. I can think of no one suited to have chosen for the job other than the Emissary."

"Enough!" Jag exclaimed. It was the first time Layman had seen the man upset.

Curiosity overtook Layman, "what is Dagar Domin?" Layman looked at Gala expectantly, but it was Jag who answered.

"It means the Doorway of Doom. It is a deep cave on the edge of the Mountains of the Sun to the east. But, it is not a normal cave. Our people discovered it some years back when on sacred pilgrimages to cleanse their souls from sin. And like I said it was anything but normal."

"The outside of the cave looked like any other that might be hidden in the clefts of the mountains, and the group of Tevinites that discovered it might have passed it by completely if they had not been caught by a storm that materialized as if from above the mountain itself. They were terrified and believed that Devindal was assaulting them on their spiritual quest. Perhaps, it was Tevindal instead.

They went inside only looking for the modest protection the cave might give to them, but they found something entirely different. The cave had been excavated. There was a great hall, ornate and beautiful as if it was a great place of reverence. But the place's beauty...it was too much. The Tevinites that found the cave believed it could not have been made by mortal hand.

When the storm passed in the morning, the Tevinites forsook their holy journey and went back to inform others on what they had discovered. They did not explore the ancient temple they had found, for they believed that would be the work of others. Traveling back to their town they encountered Gala, who was much younger then."

Gala let out a hearty roar at this, which echoed out into the desert. Layman looked around expecting all the Tevinites to awaken and come see what the source of the noise was.

"They will ignore it boy," Gala said with a grin. "They've heard this old fool laugh before."

Layman smiled and Jag went to work continuing his story.

"Gala had eagerly listened to what he was told and then went out quickly to the other tribes to inform their chiefs. Gala was a swift traveler and well known for his strong memory, he can repeat messages word for word, after only being told one time. It was this mission that would gain him such notoriety that he would become known forever afterwards as, the Messenger."

"Gala informed the chiefs and soon all the priests and chiefs gathered for the Council of Rock. Gala had learned much through his traversing with the chiefs and their aides that he too was invited to the Council. There the Council decided their action and they sent a party of Tevinite Priests and Guards to find out what secrets this cave held. Gala went with them."

"The party met up with a few that had discovered the cave and were led there. All were amazed at what they beheld in the cave, and those sent by the Council agreed that it was a place not carved by mortal hands. They found many things there of great importance. Though, many of the original artifacts were minor in the scope of things, the Tevinites beheld them as great treasures."

"An ancient script they found written in the chambers they explored, but have still yet to decipher it. All those that have been to the cave believe that is the key of solving its riddles."

"Riddles?" Layman asked. "I am confused. This story talks of this place being 'holy' why then is it named, Doorway of Doom?"

"He's getting to that lad, have patience," answered Gala.

"As the priests and guards explored the chambers they discovered that there was more to this cave than they originally thought. A couple of the priests stumbled onto hidden paths that led to other chambers, but these new places could not be entered unless the room's riddle was solved."

"But, I thought you could not read the script that was about the accessible chambers," Layman asked.

"These riddles were not in words, boy. They had to be figured out how to be opened. There is one main problem we soon discovered though about a wrong answer to a riddle." Gala said.

"And what is that?" Layman responded.

"That a wrong answer meant death," Gala said with a finality that made Layman feel like he had been struck.

"Death," Layman said. "How many of your party died," his voice was a whisper.

"Many," Gala said.

Jag looked at the two until he had their attention again and continued the tale. "As Gala said many died trying to open these chambers. The number of priests began to dwindle until only two remained alive. They knew not what to do, because they could not open the door to the first locked chamber. The priests soon turned to the guards and guides for their help."

"Two guards quickly died and the others refused to try. Gala decided to try. For three hours he stood before the first door until he decided to act. The survivors waited for his death, but it did not come, for Gala opened the first chamber door. They moved forward amazed and as the day passed they moved through four more chambers."

"It was in the last chamber that Gala opened that he discovered the Book of Saera. Finding that book confirmed to the group that they were truly in a place of holiness, and that the devices of death were serving only as instruments of protection. Gala now believed he was in the anterior chamber to the temple's grand and final chamber. But, he could not figure out the clues to the last chamber, and retreated believing that it was 'meant' for someone to open and that person was not him."

Layman turned to Gala, "why do you believe that the last door is meant for someone?"

"Well," the stone-faced messenger began, "I believe I unwrapped more of the riddle to the last door that Jag's story indicated. I concluded the answer was only a person of a certain bloodline can open the door. That is why I named that place, Dagar Domin."

"And you believe that this person with this bloodline is this, Emissary?" Layman asked.

"Yes," was Gala's simplistic answer.

"And whose bloodline does this Emissary supposedly have?" Layman asked.

"Tevindal's," Gala said.

"Enough," Jag intervened.

Layman looked down to his lap, while Gala gave his friend a curt nod. Silence ensued for many long moments as Jag looked upward at the sky to the stars. There was great worry on his face. Something behind his eyes sensed great dread. Layman had seen that look before on several of his companions' faces before they chose the route to confront the Deceiver.

As the silence continued the small fire began to smolder and lost much of its potency. A small wind picked up in the depths of the desert and brought chill as its package to those that sat unprotected in the desert night. Layman shivered again and brought his hands to his face to blow warmth into them.

Jag stood and quickly said goodnight to the remaining wayfarers at the fire and headed to his wagon. Layman thought about that wagon, thought about the young woman that quietly rested within its warmth. His thoughts rambled also to the other young woman that was within the wagon's confines. Fear tugged at his heart and he thought he must say something to L'terin regarding her sister.

"So, what is your story?" Gala suddenly said.

The Messenger's words boomed like the thunder-bombs of Layman's old world. Layman looked up at the man. He had almost forgotten he was still sitting there. The Wanderer's thoughts began to race, as he did not even know how to begin.

"My story?" Layman asked trying to buy himself time to recollect his thoughts.

"Yes, your story," Gala began with an edge of laughter in his voice, "you are the only one left at this campfire besides me, and I am not yet old and crazy enough to be talking to myself."

Layman smiled and laughed at that, "I suppose not."

"Where do I begin?" Layman asked. "I am not sure how much Jag told you about me. I could tell you about my home world and the events that took place there that sent me on this quest of madness that has cost me nearly everything I have ever had, save my soul."

"No, that story is not the one I want to know. I want to know your true past, your ancestry. It is there that my interest lies."

The Wanderer shook his head, "I really don't know much about my past, or the past of my family, that is. My father and mother worked normal jobs, the same as my grandfather, at least as far as I know. They were not special people."

"Then where did you get that?" Gala asked, pointing at the sword in its scabbard. "Did you just pick that up on your adventure? For, I have a feeling that you had that before you set out on your quest."

"Well, yes, my father gave it to me. And my grandpa gave it to my dad and so on. It is something that has been in my family for generations. The rumor is that one crazy ancestor was drawn to it somehow, that it was some lost heirloom. It is just the family sword." Layman said.

"Just the family sword?" Gala countered. "May I see it, then?"

Layman shrugged, "yeah, sure." He unbuckled the scabbard from his belt and handed it over to Gala.

Gala took the scabbard and for a long time looked at the old leatherwork in the dying glow of the fire. Next the old man looked at the hilt, which was beautiful and ornate. He put his old hand on the hilt and slowly withdrew the blade a few inches. He gasped.

The blade let go a gleaming sapphire light as it was exposed to the night. The blade hummed lightly as if being trapped made it wish to sing for freedom. Gala pulled the rest of the blade free and stood up to examine it. The old man's face was now a wash in a blue glow, the same light that seemed to radiate from the heavens.

"Just the family sword," Gala said again in an almost inaudible whisper. It was not a question, rather a statement of utter shock.

"Do you know what this is, boy? Do you know what this is that you carry?" Gala asked through his astonishment.

Layman remained silent. He always thought the blade to be beautiful. He figured it must have great worth, but his thoughts did not go much further than that on the topic.

"I don't know," was all Layman could say.

"This," Gala started and then cleared his throat to regain his voice. "This is a starsword."

Silence ensued as Layman looked to the blade as if seeing it for the first time. Gala still looked at the sword in wonder as the blue hew brightened his face.

"What is a starsword?" Said Layman asking the obvious question.

"A weapon made long ago in the Dunlyne, the first cycle of the Ball of Light. Many mighty swords were made in that ancient time for their great wars. But none were more powerful than the starswords. They were few in number, but were to hold mighty powers and only the greatest of warriors carried them into battle. Only two of this nature was ever made, Sapphire and Heaven's Star."

"Which of the two is this one?" Asked Layman.

"I do not know," Gala said. "But, either way it makes your appearance in our world ever the more interesting."

Gala slid the blade back into the scabbard and handed it to Layman.

"Come here and sit before me," Gala commanded Layman.

Layman did as he was told. The Wanderer looked up at Gala in confusion.

"It will be alright," Gala said. "Close your eyes and clear your thoughts."

Gala put his hands on either side of Layman's head. The old man closed his own eyes now and sought hard for what he looked for. Gala had powers unlike to most men and he began to delve deep into the roots of Layman's origin. His hands continued to press harder until he seemed to be squeezing Layman's head. Layman thought his head would explode, but his discomfort soon ended as something else began to happen.

Images started to unfold in Layman's mind. Faint images were dim and blurry in nature. They moved swiftly through his mind, like glimpsing words on pages of a book that are quickly shuffled through. An image of a mace of gleaming red stone entered his mind and was quickly gone, carried away in the current of the thoughts and ancestral memories.

His last image of was an angry man, heartbroken and tormented. He held a gleaming green sword over his head and his fierce face looked madly upon someone cowering before him. Then the images were gone and he was lying flat on the ground before the fire. Gala lay next to him, breathing deeply. The old man struggled to sit up.

"What happened?" Layman asked.

"I have never gone that far before," Gala said. "I...I don't understand all that I saw, or who that last man was, but you are special that much I know for sure."

"Why do think I am special?" Layman asked while sitting up. The Wanderer offered his hand and the Messenger took it bringing the old man back up into a sitting position around the fire.

"Because I know partly of what you are, at least where you come from," Gala said. "You call yourself the Wanderer, bounty hunter, because you chase an evil minion of Devindal across time and space. But, what you do not understand is that what you are doing has long been in your bloodline. You are a descendant of a group of ancient people called the Talidons. They were a group of people, or more so like a guild, for there was several of them, but they usually worked alone or sometimes in small groups."

"Similar to a more primitive group called Hunters, Talidons hunted down sinister agents of Devindal. Sometimes their quests would take them across many worlds. For the most part they did not do this for profit, though sometimes they were rewarded. They did this for sole purpose of the glory of Tevindal and for peace and stability."

"I believe also that your bloodline is one of rich heritage. There was a man that I saw in your ancestral memories that carried with him a red-stoned mace. I believe that man to be Voldar Firesword, who journeyed with a band of heroes that defeated the Witches of Alordian. One of the members of his band was, Star Evenwind."

"Yes, L'terin told me of this story. She told me that Star's shield was also called L'terin." Layman interjected.

"Yes, but did L'terin tell you that she carried the sword Sapphire, which is one of two of the blue-bladed starswords?" Gala asked with upraised eyebrows.

"What does it mean?" Layman asked.

"I don't know," Gala conceded. "It could mean that maybe Star gave Voldar her sword, but both were slain at Rantarok. I do not believe anyone has ever gone back to that place since that Cosmic Battle destroyed the Gods and imprisoned both Tevindal and Devindal. It would make the most sense of your sword being Sapphire, but how it would have been obtained by your family was something I could not decipher."

"What about that last man. The one that was filled with pain?" Layman whispered. He did not know why he whispered, but when Gala answered his voice too was hushed.

"I do not know who he was, but I have guesses. That man was not of this age or even the last one. I believe that was an image of thread of the first turning of the Ball of Light. That in itself scares me and makes me wonder. But, of this I must speak with the council and those that are also wise in lore, and my thoughts I will not yet share with you on that topic." Gala trailed off.

Then there was silence for a long time. When the fire burned low and out, Gala excused himself to sleep. But, Layman found sleep a long time coming. And for a long time he looked up at the sky and wondered who he was.

Chapter 6: Rock and Estalgend

Morning came too early. The sun shone brightly in Layman's eyes as Jag shook him awake. The man gave him a long look and then was gone. Layman got slowly to his feet and found Hank and quickly saddled him.

The day's ride was long and hard. The fiery sun beat down and Layman was drenched in his own sweat way before midday. A little bit after noon a lone white puffy cloud made its way onto the horizon. It floated on its unseen sails and moved on the wind's currents to stop directly in front of the blinding daystar. Both Hank and Layman looked up at the sky with thanks to the natural shade that had just been provided.

The shade was provided till the end of their trip. The cloud had kept up its movements only to seemingly follow the arced course of the sun. By the time the cloud moved on the sun was descending and bringing with it the coolness of night. As twilight was settling in the caravan reached Rock.

At first arriving at Rock, Layman soon found his eyes unable to turn from the cosmic remnant for that which the site was named after. The broken base of the Pillar of the lost Realms was over a half-mile around. The rim of its broken base was jagged and uneven. But, as Layman gazed at it he noticed one peculiar thing; the Pillar itself was nowhere to be seen.

The Wanderer gazed about the grounds about the Pillar's base called, Rock. He saw many tents and tribes people moving about. It seemed that all the other Tevinite tribes' leaders had already assembled and awaited only Jag and Gala to bring the last stragglers in. But, still no sign of the broken Pillar.

Layman became more aware of his immediate surroundings and watched as the caravan set up their own tents. They were arrayed in the same fashion as the other tribes and it seemed that the men he deemed the strongest had their tents to the outside, those of greater age had theirs inward, closer to the confines of the Rock. Layman wondered if they were afraid of attack or if this was customary, he did not recall any defensive maneuvers the whole time while traveling in the caravan.

Layman noticed L'terin emerging from the flap of her wagon, shortly followed by Dai Jia. If the second woman noticed his gaze she did not show it and continued on heading to one of the other encampments. L'terin did seem to noticed it and she stopped suddenly, looking first to gaze upon Rock, then slowly turning to meet his eyes. Layman's first instinct was to turn away in his embarrassment, but he did not. He was rewarded for his bravery for she smiled at him and beckoned him to come over to her.

Layman brought Hank to a slow trot over to where L'terin stood waiting, and then dismounted. "I expected to see remnants of the Pillar scattered around this place," Layman said to L'terin.

She smiled at this and said, "Well, that is why this place is called Rock, not Rocks. Anyway the Pillar was not made of stone or mortal craftsmanship. Only the base was made from elements of the earth of Star World. The Pillar itself was made of cosmic energy, formulated by the Gods' architecture. It was a solid beam of power that with the other beams or Pillars held the universe in the formation that the Gods wished. That is until Qulelil cast them down during the War of the Gods."

"Qulelil?" Layman asked.

"Goddess of Undoing," L'terin replied. "She was a witch of Devindal."

"I have been across many worlds and seen many things, but still have not seen anything like this," Layman said. "I wonder how big this universe really is? If it is infinite?"

"I do not know how many worlds there are," she responded. "But, I know that the Realms of Confusion are not infinite. There are two different aspects of the universe that I know. There is the Forever Night Sea and there is the Void. The Forever Night Sea is where the Realms of Confusion are, where we are and it is big, but does not go on forever as its name speaks of. The Forever Night Sea is bordered by the Ultuma, which is a series of towers and citadels that hold the Sea of Darkness from spilling into the Void, that lies beyond. It is believed that Star World itself does not lie to far from one of the Ultuma."

"Then what is, the Void?" Layman asked.

L'terin shrugged her shoulders, "Who knows. But, enough talk for a little while. I'm starving."

Layman noticed that he too was ravished from hunger. He could smell now the smoke of meats being cooked and stews being stirred and at that his stomach roared. In response both of them laughed loud and hard. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him and he could not hold back a big goofy smile.

"Are you ready, Hank?" L'terin asked looking back at the horse.

Hank whinnied at her and shook his head and stomped his front hooves.

"I believe that was a yes," Layman said. Together all three went to the nearest cook-fire.

...

Layman awoke well before dawn. The stars above were dim, awaiting their morning slumber. On the horizon the planetary gateway was coming up from the edge of the Endless Desert. Layman was still enchanted by its beauty.

"Awake early today aren't we," a pleasant voice greeted him. Layman looked up to see L'terin smiling at him. Her blonde hair blew lightly in her face from the gentle morning air. She looked tired as if she has slept as badly as he had. Her face was worn and tired, but she seemed in a good mood.

She sat down without Layman asking her to do so. Layman gave her a strange, but not an uninviting look at her presumption. "I'm tired of waiting for you to ask me to sit, so I figure I will just do it anyway," she said with a small laugh. Layman smiled.

"What are those planets?" Layman asked, pointing to the planetary gateway. "Those we believe are Ultuma, of which I spoke yesterday. They are Odara and Lyran, Fire World and Frost World to common people."

A memory stirred in Layman's mind and he whispered, "Frost World."

L'terin looked at him and studied his confused face for a moment but did not intrude on his thoughts. Instead she changed the subject. "The council will begin shortly. The members will be busy for most of the day. My mother is cooking breakfast and I wanted to see if you wanted to join us?"

By the time they reached L'terin's wagon, Jag was nowhere to be seen. Jag's wife was busy with the preparations of food, while Dai Jia sat off some distance alone. Layman noticed the girl's devilish stare as they came closer, but noticed it was aimed at her sister rather than him.

L'terin's mother handed each of them a bowl of stew as they arrived and Dai Jia even gave up her spiteful staring long enough to collect some food of her own. The four sat on the ground and ate in relative silence. The sounds of the rest of the camp coming to life could be heard. Men were feeding and watering the horses while women cooked, and children played. Layman sat quietly on the desert ground content enough to be sitting besides L'terin.

He spared a moment for a quick glance at her. She sat in the sand looking off in the distance deep in her own thoughts. The Wanderer tried to figure out what was going on in his own mind. He could not understand how this young woman was securing herself further and further into his heart. He thought of Johanna, would she be angry with him? The guilty part of his conscience said yes, where the reasonable side said, no.

Jealousy was not Johanna's way. She would not wish for him to be miserable. She would only want him to continue what they started and not falter from that path. She had told him long before her death that she did not believe that she would be around at the end, and that she thought he had a destiny that was greater than her.

It had hurt Layman when she had said that. He believed that the two of them shared the same destiny. Either they would accomplish their objective or both would die in the same battle. It had not turned out that way.

Instead Johanna was dead. And Layman had traveled on alone across worlds to many strange places. He had ended up here, on Star World. It was a backwater planet, the least interesting one he had been on. Still, there was something strange here. He felt closer to his goal than at anytime during his quest, and he was sure that L'terin, this beautiful girl next to him, was immensely important somehow.

At that last thought, L'terin turned and looked at him. There was a strange look in her eyes and Layman immediately wondered if she had somehow known he was thinking about her. She smiled softly, and gently patted him on the shoulder as she stood. She reached down and took his empty bowl, one he did not remember finishing and took them to be washed.

His eyes stayed on her, admiring the curiosity that was her living being. A prickling soon went up the back of his neck and he knew instantly what it was. Dai Jia was watching him. He slowly began to turn around to face her. But, as his head turned he saw that she had already stood and turned to leave. She tossed her bowl in the sand and eventually disappeared amongst the other tents and wagons.

"Don't mind her," L'terin said as she returned unnoticed to Layman's side. "No harm will come from her. She's just always angry."

Layman's thoughts slipped to the night Dai Jia had been at his side and he had believed he saw her turn into a serpent. "I am not so sure," he whispered back.

...

It was at midday when they came for L'terin. L'terin was helping her mother wash clothes, while Layman was doing his best to get all the knots out of Hank's fur. There were a lot of knots. Two Tevinite Guards came and told L'terin that her presence was requested at the council.

Layman stopped what he was doing and Hank snorted in protest. L'terin looked first to her mother, who wore an unreadable mask. Layman noted that the woman's face leaned more towards something rather than shock. What that may have been he was not sure. But, he believed that she was not surprised.

L'terin, on the other hand, was shocked. Her mouth gaped wide open and as she did not get any sympathetic looks from her mother she turned in Layman's direction. The Wanderer looked at her and saw something in her eyes that amazed him. It flashed for a second and was gone. Whatever he may have seen he knew that the girl was unaware of it, but something told him inside that it was something wonderful.

L'terin gently put down the shirt she had been washing in a small bucket. She turned back to the guards and nodded at them to lead the way. As she marched off to the large tent that held the council members she turned and looked back over her shoulder. Her eyes met Layman's and held them for a long moment. She turned back and entered the tent.

Layman waited for her return for hours. In his boredom he walked around the perimeter of Rock several times watching and observing the Tevinite people. They were much the same, though at each encampment he could pick up different dialects of speech. Children played the same games, which in some camps had different names.

He barely registered that L'terin was walking towards him until she gently called his name. He looked up at her and instantly a thousand questions filled his mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly cut him off.

"They have requested you at the council," she simply stated. Layman stared at her.

"Me? Why?" he asked in confusion.

"It is not the time for me to speak about such things," she said with downcast eyes.

It was the first time that Layman had really looked at her since she had walked up to him. She looked smaller somehow, like she had shrunk or turned into herself. Her face was puffy from tears that had stained her cheeks. Her eyes, he saw as she looked up at him, looked lost. But, there was that something in her eyes he had seen earlier, that and something else, was determination.

"They wanted the Tevinite Guards to get you, but I said I would lead you to the tent. It is the least I can do for what they are going to ask from you."

Layman started to talk, to ask what she meant by that, but she quickly waved the question away. "We will speak of these matters later," was all she said. She led him the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the tent several of the Tevinite Guards were awaiting them. They stood there still as stone, faces set in determination. Of the four guards that stood by the tent's entrance two disembarked themselves from the others and moved forward. Both nodded at L'terin and Layman noticed there was something different in the way they did it. It seemed the nods were more than thanks, or that they would take it from there. There seemed to be an order of respect in the nod and the look in the soldiers' eyes. It was as if on the pecking order of things they were showing that they were lower than her rank. Layman quickly wondered if this was because she was the daughter of a tribal leader or if this was because of what had transpired while she was in the tent.

He turned to look at her but her face stared strait ahead. She had seen what he had noticed and her posture spoke that she would not address such things yet. Later, she had told Layman, later they would speak of the meeting with the Council of Eight. He looked back at the two guards that had moved forward to escort him. He nodded to them and they nodded back, it was a different nod.

"Lead on," he said quietly. With that they moved forward and flanked each side of him. The other two guards opened the flap so that they passed underneath it. The three men went forward and as they passed into the tent the remaining guards let it fall behind them. L'terin stood there for many moments with her head downcast. When she looked up she stared at the closed flap. "Yes," she whispered quietly. "We will have much to talk about Layman Salidan." With that she turned to go. She did not notice Dai Jia close by around the tent listening hungrily to everything that transpired.

...

Layman looked at his surroundings as he entered the large council tent. From within it did not appear as a tent at all, rather more like one of the large courtrooms he had seen in the High City of Asgard before its fall. A great thick carpet lay on the floor, maroon, with circles of lighter violet. In its center there was a great yellow orb, which Layman knew now must represent the Ball of Light that L'terin had spoken of.

Tevinite Guards were stationed around the circumference of the tent as well. But, these men were not the young smoothed faced soldiers that stood outside. These were men of age with thick beards and eyes that had seen and knew much. These were the generals and captains of the force, the most trusted in advising plans of war.

At the far side of the tent were positioned the Council of Eight. They were the tribe leaders of the Tevinites. They were ascended in height, seated at great podiums that made whomever that faced them at a lower and psychological disadvantage. The podiums were made of thick, rich ashen wood, amber and auburn in color. Layman quickly wondered to himself where the wood had come from, for he had not as yet witnessed any trees in the Endless Desert.

Layman was startled out of his thoughts as a great rhythmic booming echoed out from the council members. Each priest held a gavel, which they beat in unison onto the hard wood podium before them. The hammering went on for several moments, as Layman stood transfixed, not knowing what was expected from him.

Suddenly, the booming ceased and all was silent. A man of the council stood, rising slowly, like a great wave on the ocean Layman had seen from the Green Mountains of Waianae. Like thunder and the crash of surf he spoke, "Layman Salidan, Traveler of Stars, Witness of Worlds, self-named Wanderer, proceed forward."

Layman moved forward, strangely noting how soft the carpet was beneath his feet. The guards did not move forward, but retreated out of the tent. For some reason it made Layman feel naked before the men before him, almost like he was livestock to be inspected by buyers.

Layman moved slowly forward, his eyes swinging to all those that sat at the council. He saw Jag and Gala, but for some reason they seemed alien to him. These are men of the Council of Eight, he thought grimly. He knew at this moment that all previous encounters with them, any bonds of friendship he established with them were at this time suspended. L'terin probably did not feel safe under those eyes either, he thought with realization.

He continued to move forward until he was beckoned to stop. He noticed he stood in a perfect position so that he could not look upon all the council members at once. They sat in a semi-circle position. He was a subject being studied.

"State your full name and where hence you come," demanded the councilman that had spoken before.

Layman hesitated, "I am Layman Rantar Salidan." A few audible gasps came from the councilmen, which the Speaker glared at the perpetrators. Layman noticed, but did not understand so he continued, "I come from the land of Caanan, which is no more. All my kin, loved ones, and people, have perished from the Forever Night Sea for all times."

Silence followed.

"Layman Rantar Salidan, I am the Speaker of the Tevinites and we are the Council of Eight," he said with a flourishing gesture. The other seven members stood to be recognized. The Speaker turned and looked at his counterparts and said, "Gentlemen you may be seated." In unison the eight council members sat down, in what Layman deemed were comfortable chairs. No seat was offered to the man that felt as if he were on trial.

After more silence the Speaker of the Council spoke again, "Blood of Rantar, tell us about your home world."

Layman felt as if he had been hit with a bag of stones. "Dear Speaker," Layman started his response, "I am the blood of Salidan."

The Speaker did not respond to this, but his head turned in the direction of Gala. The two made eye contact and shared some unspoken knowledge within the look. Gala gave the Speaker a curt nod and the Speaker turned his attention back to Layman. "Blood of Rantar or Blood of Salidan, either will suffice at the time being, please continue."

Layman took a deep breath. He had not spoken much about his home planet to anyone. He had not had any people to talk to since the loss of his companions, save L'terin and she did most the talking. He was not completely sure on how to begin.

"I come from the land of Caanan, as I said has long since been destroyed. It is a lifeless place now, full of shadows and chaotic ruin. But, before its fall it was beautiful and majestic in its own right. It is a place completely different than Star World, where this planet is wild and wide open, Caanan was not such a place. It had advancements of such that I have not seen yet on any other planet."

"We had such cities where the buildings stood like tall fingers reaching the sky. These places had artificial light, so that in the evening it could be almost as bright as the day. Candles and torches were deemed unnecessary. People there were easy for the pickings I guess you could say. We had forgotten about our true past, forgotten our faith in Tevindal, the stories of the Gods were only myths and legends that the educated wrote into books. We had replaced the true forces of the universe with what is called science."

"I did not know the simple truths to the universe. The simple truths that can sometimes be seen by looking at the Ancient Stars which line the evening sky, making their way in the cosmic canvas. Such things could not be seen on Caanan, and even if they could in the remote places of the world, they had been disproved, being utterly unimportant."

"Like all places, Caanan came to a time of turmoil. People began to grow afraid and lacked confidence in those that governed them. Caanan was not a whole world, by that I mean all the people were not as one. There were different continents, different countries with their own ideals and governments and many of these became bitter enemies."

"When such times arise, a leader, a savior is sought after. People hope and pray to figments they do not truly believe in for help. A leader did come to answer these prayers. He was what everyone in my land wanted and needed. Some of us though, were suspicious of him, thought him wrong, even unholy. Such thoughts seemed alien to people who were as faithless as we were, but all the same it was the way we felt."

"Different movements arose against the leader as he gained power. My comrades were part of such a movement, but we mostly spoke amongst ourselves and did not think it time yet to voice our displeasure. This leader ended the crisis of the world and unified all of Caanan, under him. The world now had one ruler, and he was its dictator. His mild and peaceful demeanor soon became violent."

"He said that to ensure peace and stability then all movements that were against him must be wiped out. The world, still being under his enchantment carried out his orders. The members of all the groups that had publicly protested him were murdered, their families too. At this brutality some people awoke from the demon's spell. More people went out to protest. This brought more killing."

"Search and destroy groups were mobilized to hunt down dissenters. People began to disappear, while children were killed openly in the streets. Many people decided it was time to make a stand. Armed resistance now made its way to the forefront. It started slowly at first, small attacks, but as these movements gained influence the military action became bolder and more intensified. People now began to call the leader by a different name, the Deceiver."

"Soon, the whole world was at war, tearing itself apart. People died by the millions through conflict. The food supply became short and starvation ensued followed by disease. Whole cities were left in smoking ruin. Though, my comrades and I were against the Deceiver and his tyranny, we took very little part in the fighting. We tried to survive, and sought shelter from the worldwide storm."

"What was left of our fellowship found shelter in a long forgotten cave hidden in a copse of woods in the countryside. It was there we took refuge. Outside, the world was ending, and we knew it, but there was nothing left that could be done. We delved deeper into our new shelter hoping it would provide protection should any of the Deceiver's weapons strike the woods on his path of destruction."

"It was in that cave that we found something. It was something strange and foreign, but there was a familiar feel to it for me for some reason or the other. It was a bent archway, like a doorway against the cave's rocky wall. But looking at the arch it seemed just some ancient piece of architecture that outlined the cavern's wall, but something spoke in my mind and I thought it to be something else."

"Outside the cave the world grew dark. The world had been ripped apart by such weapons to cause a perpetual darkness. All was doomed. I began to bend all my thought to the arch, while several of my original companions died from the lack of nourishment. I shared my thoughts on the arch with only one of my companions, a woman named Johanna, who was my love."

"Our time was growing thin. Johanna shared my thoughts with the rest of our group whose number was only a total of nine, and though my beliefs would usually seem like lunacy, all rallied around it, it was their last and only hope. Then our true nightmare happened. The enemy found the cave. As enemy soldiers made their way to the back of the cave our group put themselves into position, for what we thought was to be our last stand."

"It was in that moment that I drew my sword in the presence of the arch. My blue blade lit as if it were on fire and from it came a humming of unspeakable power. The arch made thundering sounds as if there were great churning from it through the cavern's walls. Then it happened, it opened, and through it was a path that made its way across the blackness of the Sea of Darkness."

"The advancing soldiers heard the noise and they poured to our position. I ordered everyone through the gate. It did not matter where it went for certain death was upon us. As my companions jumped into the archway's opening the soldiers poured into the chamber."

"Two of my friends that were closest to the chamber's opening turned to engage the enemy soldiers. One was cut down instantly, while the other turned to me and told me to flee. Though I felt ashamed for leaving my friend I did as I was bidden. I jumped into the archway and it began to close behind me, but not quick enough that I did not see the death of my friend that covered my escape."

Layman faltered in his story. He remembered the pain of his friend as he was smote to the ground and slaughtered by the soldiers. Without realizing it his eyes became wet, and soon did his cheeks. He quickly wiped his face and put on a crooked smile to try to cover his embarrassment.

Layman noticed the Speaker gesture to one of the guards. Soon a guard was at his side offered him a small handkerchief and wooden cup of water. Layman quietly thanked him, wiped his face and took a sip of water. He cleared his throat before he continued, wanting to be sure of the strength of voice unless it crack and falter before these men that questioned him.

"A long time it seemed we traveled through the gate, it was as if we walked across a path of stars. Hunger and pain was forgotten, these were filled by the wonder of that which we saw. The stellar bodies moved quickly by us as if in a blur of fluid motion. Planets, stars, all of the cosmos it seemed rushed up to meet us and smoothly transitioned away. Each of us forgot one another, lost in our own thoughts of the glory of the Forever Night Sea."

"Then a world came into view. Its aurora was round and red with swirls of white. We remembered each other then and knew fear once again. The planet grew larger on the black tranquil waters of the cosmic ocean. We saw then the path that we were on. The bridge's image became transparent arching and turning down into this new world. I tried to scream as we went to enter the world, but only silence emerged."

"We fluttered through the atmosphere and were unharmed. Then there was a flash of great brilliance and we lay sprawled in the middle of a forest. Then a strange thing entered my mind and it was the sounds of birds and gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Next to us was an archway, it closed and soon the forest could be seen through it, I remember ivy was wrapped tightly around its workings."

"A long time it seemed we all lay there on the floor of the forest. The grass was wet from morning dew and beyond in a small clearing grew wild flowers. They were of many colors and they were different from those of my home world. The day turned warm as the morning grew late, but it was so comfortable and refreshing. It felt an age since I been that peaceful."

"I sat up finally and took a deep breath and checked to see if I had a voice left. I spoke to the others to ask if they were all right. My voice seemed loud and strange to my own ears, almost a sin against the tranquility of the natural music of the forest. When we all arose we gathered our things and picked a direction to travel, trying to follow the sun. It took us close to three days to leave the forest and as we emerged from its comfort we noticed a village on the distant horizon."

"After spending the night on the edge of the forest we made our way to the village the next day. We reached there around mid-afternoon, and the people stopped and looked upon us with wonder, as we most certainly looked at them so too. The commotion of the people brought the attention of their mayor, who just so happened to being entertaining a delegate from their capital city."

"The delegate was a man named, Baron Zarastan, and he asked us many questions, which we answered openly and to our best ability. Our story startled and worried the man, for he said much the same events were now taking place in the capital of their kingdom, a place he called, Avalon. He said that Avalon was an ancient city, filled with much beauty with its streaming towers that adorned the heavens. It had stood since the beginning of the Forlyne, since Rantarok ripped the Realms of Confusion to shreds."

"He told us how a man had come and was changing everything. The Baron did not trust this man and spoke of things this newcomer promised. It sounded much like our Deceiver. So, this is how it all began. We became part of the Baron's army that he raised in defiance of the man that was the same that destroyed my home world."

"We fought a bitter campaign against the armies that swelled the devil's ranks in Avalon. We watched the demise of another world. In the end, we were beaten. At the last battle for Avalon, Baron Zarastan was slain and our army routed and dispersed."

"My band fled across the plain to the forest from which we had come into this world. At the gate I drew my sword and we went through to travel the stars once again, fully expecting to travel back to our own ruined world. That was not to be, as we came to a new world and found the situation to be much the same. We knew now that we had been chosen and swore to fight the advancement of the Deceiver and his agents until our last breath."

"Many worlds I have crossed now, with much fighting in between. My friends have all been slain and I am the last of our band that swore our Oath. I hope that my story will help this council."

With that Layman spoke no more of his adventures across the worlds. He looked around at the Council of Eight and saw that they were deep in thought digesting the magnitude of the tale he had just bequeathed to them. Some sat alone and brooded in their own thoughts, while other members leaned over and whispered with their neighbors. All faces seemed carved from stone with determination, and uncertainty.

"You have seen much and no doubt have beheld much sorrow for that we offer prayers to Tevindal on your behalf," the Speaker began. "Your story is a great concern for this Council, for much of what has been spoken seems to resonate with what is now transpiring here on Star World. We have a prophecy here, ranging back to the time of the great Cosmic Battle that flooded the Forever Night Sea in its ruinous destruction. The Gods and Heroes are no more, Tevindal has been banished. What hope we have comes from a tale so old that many of the educated have often wondered if it was only a story made in vain hopefulness."

"It is said, that a Chief will come in the end times of all the worlds. He will appear here in Star World and unite us under his banner. Under his charge, evil will be driven out and all will be healed," the Speaker said with his eyes studying closely Layman's reaction. "There are many here, in this world, who believe that the Chief is already here, that he sits in the castle now, that he goes by the name, Estalgend. And there are those of us that believe he is a sinister monster in disguise waiting to bring us down the ruinous path into the Void."

"It seems safe to say that you believe that Estalgend is not as he seems. That, perhaps Estalgend is this person you have searched for across the span of the Forever Night Sea," the Speaker said.

"Yes," Layman replied. "I believe that what is starting on this world has happened on countless worlds. I do not know how many worlds have fallen under this monster's sway, but I personally know of many. Who this demon is for sure is something that is beyond me. But, the Deceiver wants nothing but to crush the worlds he comes to, but what scares me is I have a feeling that crushing a handful of worlds is not his ultimate goal, there must be something else," Layman finished.

The Speaker then looked long and hard at Layman and the eyes of the rest of the Council lay on him heavily. Layman felt they all knew what the Speaker was going to ask him next. It seemed to be the most important question of their collective. Layman took in a deep breath and waited.

"I see the stress build in your eyes, young Wanderer of the Stars," the Speaker said. "I have been informed of you from other members of this council."

Layman quickly glanced at Jag De Lue and Gala. Their eyes bore into him without shame. The information they had shared was not a violation of trust between them in their opinion, but of simple necessity for the protection and best interest of their peoples. Layman knew he had to agree, he was a stranger, and these people had a right to be wary of strangers. But, the simple fact was this, if they had felt him to be a threat then he would not been able to be around Jag's family without armed supervision. There must be something else them, Layman thought.

"Your story seems strange to us," the Speaker continued. "But, it is strangely familiar as well. I have been informed of your ancient heritage, of your connections with the line of Talidons, great warriors and servants of Tevindal, Lord of Light. Your arriving here at this time of unknown doubt and peril prompts us to look at our prophecies and wonder," his voiced slowed to a draw as he prepared to say his next thoughts.

"I ask you these questions, Layman Rantar Salidan. Do you know the original owner of the starsword you carry? And, I ask you this as well, did you come here for reasons other than those that have been made known to us?"

Layman cleared his throat as he began to speak, "I spoke to Councilman Gala deep into the night a few evenings back, and we spoke of many things. He became very interested in my sword, which besides its power to open the archways, I did not know of any other special qualities. He informed me that the blade could have been owned by one of two individuals. He said it was either a woman's sword, by the name of Star or owned by a man from the First Cycle of Light. Of those two I do not know who owned it or the true significance of such a weapon," Layman finished.

Gala stood, looking down at Layman with a face that held something that the young man did not expect from the grizzled Messenger, awe. Gala nodded to the Speaker inclining that he wished to address Layman. The Speaker returned the nod and sat down.

"Lord Talidon," Gala said addressing Layman. Layman was struck at the salutation given to him by the old man. "When we spoke, you told me that the blade had been passed down in your family, that it was a family heirloom. I believe that I now know which of the two warriors the blade originally belonged to," Gala said.

"I don't understand," Layman stated, "how do you know now when you did not know a couple nights ago?" Layman asked in confusion.

"Because you have told us yourself at the beginning of this session," Gala retorted. "You named yourself Layman Rantar Salidan," Gala said as if he had just made a shocking point. Layman looked at him with just more confusion.

"As the Speaker had said, you are the Blood of Rantar, of Paraic Rantar," Gala said, his face taking on a childish wonder.

Layman thought for a second and said, "So, we have discovered whose sword it is, I don't see why this is so important."

Jag now stood up and spoke for an enamored Gala, "Do you not know the heritage of the line of Rantar?"

"No," Layman simply stated. "I think he was married to Breina L'terin, the Goldenflower, I believe she was called." Layman thought it was strange indeed now that he shared ancestry with a woman of the name L'terin, when he was falling in love with a young woman of the same name.

"Yes, he was." Jag said drawing out his point. "Paraic and Breina were the human and Falina parents of Achaines."

The rug beneath Layman's feet felt as it had been pulled out beneath him. The sky he knew must have opened up and meteors were now falling around him. In his mind the world shook, from his own disbelief. His knees weakened and he fell.

Layman sucked in air as he looked to those sitting at their benches. His eyes were wide and he noticed theirs were too. They had there now open shock and reverence. Layman shook his head, thinking it was not possible.

"Yes, Layman," Jag said quietly. "You seem to be a direct descendant of the God of War."

"That cannot be possible," Layman sputtered. "I am no different than anyone else."

"No different?" Gala said with exasperation. "You have chased what seems to be the most powerful servant left of Devindal across worlds. I know of no living man who can boast the same deeds."

"But, I have failed in all my attempts. My friends have been lost to death and I crawl on in hopeless misery. I have seen horrors no one man should witness. If I am the War God's heir, then I have done nothing to live up to his expectations," Layman finished.

"Unless your true destiny was to come to Star World. To make a stand here against this tyrant, this Deceiver, for there are things here in this world that may be different from those that you have been upon," Gala said.

"What things?" Layman asked, still from his position on the ground.

"Prophesies," the Speaker said.

Layman was silent as he stood stone-faced, hungry for more information.

"It has long been whispered among the ears of the Tevinite Priests that a man will come to us when all is in hopeless need. When the time comes that our world shall stand on the brink of doom, the Chief will come. He will unite those that have long awaited his banner upon the fields of battle. The Tevinite Guard will rally to his cause and the sound of their hooves will be like thunder in the Dark Lord's ear," The Speaker said, his voice escalating.

"But," his voice came across almost as a whisper. "There are those in this world that believe that the Chief is already with us, and that he is present in the House of the Sun and will soon be seated on the Sun Throne itself. Even among some of the Tevinites this belief now spreads, but it is not belief of this council." His words rang with finality.

As the words vibrated throughout the tent the Speaker took his seat. Gala, still standing caught Layman's eye. "There are other prophesies as well, young Blood of Rantar," Gala said. "One prophecy that is not known, save only in the inner circles of the Tevinites is that of the Emissary."

Layman started at this. He remembered that night around the campfire when Gala and Jag had spoken in hushed tones. He had wondered what they meant, whom they had meant, but they would speak nothing at all about the subject.

Gala gazed across the Council of Eight and found Jag's eyes. The man that had brought Layman in from the desert, who had saved him and his horse from thirst simply nodded and took his seat. Layman looked to Gala to Jag, who did not look up, back to Gala again.

"The Emissary is something that we have awaited for since the destruction that rocked the Forever Night Sea at Rantarok. Many believed before that time that Rantarok would be the Last Battle. Indeed it was, in the scope that all the forces of creation and destruction were wiped away leaving mortals alone to find their way back to what they had lost," Gala said.

The Messenger continued, "it is said that the Chief will come at our direst need, but what only a few know is that before the Chief arrives that the Emissary will be born. She will be born of virgin birth, her true origin would be unknown, but to be born in such a manner must mean one thing, that she is a messenger sent by Tevindal."

Layman stood shocked peering around the Council. His eyes grew wide, not comprehending. He knew of only one girl that fit that description, only one girl in the camp that had a birth that was not explained. Layman looked straight at Jag, who now looked upon Layman with knowing eyes.

"It cannot be," Layman started and then faltered. He looked at the floor trying to gather his wits. "It is Dai Jia, isn't it?" He blurted out in his confusion.

The look on Jag's face changed visibly, as if he had been struck. Stern defiance entered those usually cool collective orbs within his face. His head violently shook from side to side. Murmurs from the other councilmen grew louder until Jag took his gavel and struck it once, hard upon his podium.

"Dai Jia's origin is a mystery, but I will tell you this; whatever spawned her was not in correspondence with the Lord of Light," Jag said, his voice was iron. Layman's eyes grew wide in understanding, the shock made him lose his balance. "Yes," Jag said in understanding, "the Emissary is L'terin."

...

Melancholy thoughts settled in as Layman left after the dismissal of the council. His head shook with all that had been bestowed on him, the knowledge and duties. The Tevinite Guards positioned at the front flap gave him a respectful sendoff by standing to attention as he passed. He looked around, finally noticing how long he had actually been at the Council of Eight.

Night had fallen and he moved slowly away from the council tent breathing in the clean and fresh night air. It was refreshing and cool and took his mind momentarily from all the extra hardships that now lay before him. He wondered if the council's judgment would impede his quest in any fashion. He did not know, with all that was placed before him it could quite possibly be the right path he was being set on. Only time would tell.

Moving several paces away from the council tent, Layman turned and looked at it once again. So much hidden knowledge was hidden and hoarded in there away from the everyday Tevinites. The information known to the council Priests was kept to themselves, so that others may not need to worry about the true dangers that they were concerned with from day to day. As he stood in his thoughts looking at the tent he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, Dai Jia.

She stood laughing with a soldier, speaking who knows what into his ear. Her face had on it a seductive smile, but her eyes were full of venom, and they stared directly at Layman. The Wanderer suddenly knew that she had listened to all of the speaking of the Council of Eight, that she knew the secrets that the councilmen had painstakingly kept to themselves for so long. As she stared at him, Layman turned and fled into the night.

Layman found himself restless, even though the hour was growing late. He did not head back to Jag's wagon, but rather walked about the different camps on his way to Rock. He looked up at the mighty monolith as he came near and began to slowly circumnavigate it with only his deep thoughts to guide him. Moving around the base he kept thinking about what had been said about L'terin. So in depth were his thoughts that as he almost ran her over as he came around the far side of the Pillar.

L'terin blinked at his arrival and gave him a smile. The smile could hardly hide the worry and doubt that filled her eyes. L'terin's right hand was outstretched and rested lightly on outcropping of the fallen Pillar. Looking, Layman noticed that her fingers had been tracing runes that were inscribed there.

Looking closer, Layman expressed his thoughts, "I wonder what it says?"

He noticed that her fingers slightly trembled as they fell away from the stone, "It roughly translates; this is where the savior of the Ball of Light will appear." She took a deep breath before continuing, "this is where I was born."

"What did you learn at the council?" she quickly asked changing the subject. Layman knew it was asked as much for him to not follow up with what she had just revealed with a question, as well to see how much he now knew about her.

"Much," he stated. Thinking on what to discuss first, trying to not jump straight in about both of their supposed destinies. "I learned many things about your sister."

L'terin simply nodded, "I did too, much of it does not surprise me."

"She was spying on the council." This statement caused L'terin to jump out of her own thoughts. "I saw her, L'terin, as I left. It appears she had seduced a guard to be near the tent. I don't know if she had been listening all day, but I think she heard everything of what was said while I was present there.

"What did they say about her while you were there?" L'terin asked.

"You mean about, Dark Eye?" Layman countered. L'terin nodded and took a deep breath. "Well," Layman started collecting his thoughts, "the meaning of her name for starters and why she has that name. If they believe that she may be the offspring of Estalgend, then why did your father take her in?"

"Pity, I suppose," L'terin said. "Offspring of a demon, she was still just a small baby left alone in the desert. My father probably did not truly understand at first, but through the years it seems the Priests had pieced it together. Her name was not Dai Jia at first, it was Dellena, but my father named her so after the prophecy, a prophecy I did not know till today. We will need to tell my father that she was there."

There was a noise behind them and turning they saw a form come out from the darkness of the night. It was Dai Jia, but it seemed that a faint mist clung closely to her and her features were shadowed and shaded. He voice seemed distorted as well, as if there was a small hissing sound at the end of her words. Layman thought suddenly of the night he had thought he had beheld a strange serpent as she tried to seduce him.

"Tell father," she said defiantly. "Tell him everything, it will not matter, sister." the last word she said with scorn and malice in her voice. "Come morning I will be long gone and I know full well what you plan to do." With that she leapt back into the shadows and was consumed by the eerie mist that was about her.

Layman moved forward to follow, his hand moving quickly to the old pistol that rested at his side. The pistol came out and he cocked the hammer coming around the turning of the broken Pillar. He looked out into the night, but the girl was gone. He stood there shocked as L'terin moved around to join him.

"Where did she go?" L'terin asked softly. Layman could only shake his head. "We will tell my father about this in the morning," she stated. "Should we not tell him now?" Layman countered. "No, it will not matter. Now come back and sit Layman, we have many things to discuss before the rising of the morning sun."

...

"So you know what they think I am?" L'terin asked. Layman nodded. L'terin looked Layman over slowly and told him, "They told me they believe you to be some kind of Chief that came here to unite our world against the coming storm. They think that you are a hero, like they think I am. I am just a girl," she finished.

"It doesn't sound that way, L'terin." he said. "Maybe everyone knows something we don't."

"That sure seemed obvious today," she responded, managing a small laugh. Her eyes glittered as she looked softly up at him, "did they tell you that you are to be my bodyguard?"

Layman nodded.

"But, they did not tell me where we were to go. They said that only you had been given that information."

"Good," she said. "We can only hope that Dai Jia did not hear that part of the council."

"Maybe, she was spending too much time gaining the guard's 'trust'." Layman quipped.

L'terin laughed, she looked up to the sky and the stars above stared back at her. "The stars are so blue tonight, only if we had the sword, Heaven's Star, to protect us on our journey," she said smiling as she turned back to Layman.

The Wanderer's head sunk to his chest. He knew that this part of the tale was something the council had not told her, for they had not known until he went before them. He inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly, all the while she watched him, not understanding why he was acting strangely. His hand slid to the pommel of his sword, gripping it tightly, he slowly withdrew the starsword of his ancestors.

L'terin stared transfixed as the blue blade slid slowly from its scabbard. Each naked inch revealed more of the gleaming light that emanated into the darkness of the night. Soon the young woman was bathed in its fiery radiance. As the sword finally left the scabbard there was a shrill ring of metal that went out into the night, the sound was metallic, but pure, and had the lingering essence of beauty.

L'terin tried to gasp, but no audible sound escaped her mouth. She was enamored by the enchantment from the piece of elegance before her. She fought hard to take her eyes off the pulsating weapon that Layman now held out firmly before him. Her eyes slid from the sword to Layman's face and she managed to say one word, "how?"

Layman looked upon the weapon and there was a measure of disbelief there. He carefully turned the blade back towards him and slowly slid it back into its sheath. The gleaming blue flame from the sword's blade became instantly extinguished. L'terin started as if she had broken out of a spell.

"I did not know until today. This has been an heirloom passed down in my family for generations, and I knew it had some important powers, but did not realize or dwell on who may have had it before me. They told me at the council to state my full name and when I did they were startled."

"What is your full name?" L'terin asked.

"Layman Rantar Salidan." he said.

"The Blood of Rantar," she whispered.

"It seems you and I do have destiny that lies at our feet," L'terin said. "I am this Emissary, this person born of virgin birth, with who knows where my real heritage lies? You are an ancestor of a line that stretches back to the first cycle of the Ball of Light. The first of your line married the most important Falina that ever lived and their child rose from mortality to Godhood. Even with all these things I still feel so small. I do not understand why I have been chosen for this."

"I don't either," Layman replied. "Perhaps, that is how these things work. I never dreamt of going off to battle to fight demon sorcerers that are hell bent in destroying the universe. I could hardly manage simple things in my daily life."

"I know, all I ever cared about was reading old stories. As you can see there is not a whole lot you can do out here in the desert of Star World. It is funny, I always did dream about being some hero, like those in the stories. I thought about being Star Evenwind, or the Goldenflower, or doing battle against the evil hordes at Rantarok. But, the thought of doing those things now make me quiver in my sandals."

Layman laughed and it was echoed by L'terin's. "Maybe all these heroes were scared too, or did not really realize what they were doing would become legend at the time," he said.

Layman decided he would change the subject and asked, "What is it you would have wanted to do if this path hadn't been shoved before you?"

She took a moment before answering, "I don't know," she started. "I had always wanted to be part of the Tevinite Clergy. Women cannot be priests like the men, but we have our place as well amongst our church structure. Mostly the women in the Tevinite Clergy become teachers in our towns and villages. I always thought I would be a good teacher, because of my knowledge of history and legends. But now with everything that has taken place, it all seems complicated. You coming here has complicated things for me."

After her last statement L'terin looked at Layman and then quickly looked to the sandy ground. The light was dim with only the stars giving the night illumination, but Layman still saw her cheeks flush with a red tint. He soon noticed that he was looking with interest to the sand that seemingly covered this strange world. His heart pounded in his chest and he knew the color of his cheeks probably was a perfect match of the color that shaded hers.

Layman looked for his voice in the silence. He knew what question he was supposed to ask, the question she was waiting for him to ask, "how have I complicated things for you?" he asked with his tone coming across meek and mild.

She looked up at him, moving her head slowly, "I think you know," she said her voice barely over a whisper.

Layman nodded slowly and with a deep breath for courage he moved towards her. Her chin tilted up and her eyes looked into his. Layman Salidan, Wanderer of Worlds, and prophesied Chief of Star World leaned forward and softly kissed L'terin on the lips. The kiss lasted for several moments and was at last released by both of its co-conspirators. Both looked and felt flushed and foolish.

L'terin ran her hand through her hair and said softly that she needed to go back to the wagon to get some sleep because morning would come soon. Both knew they had a long journey a head of them. She turned to go and cast her head to Layman smiling at him.

Layman smiled back dumbly and as she started to turn her head back around he said, "L'terin."

She stopped and looked at him.

"Your name, Shield of Stars fits you, for the stars are shielded and outshined only by your beauty."

She left him there with a smile that lit up her face and headed to her bed. Layman spent a long time looking up at the stars thinking about all that had happened on that day, while L'terin spent along time thinking about Layman. Sleep did not find either of them quickly.

Chapter 7: Resumption

"Wake up, Wanderer."

Layman was shaken roughly awake from what he had considered a pleasant dream. He blinked his eyes several times shaking away the residue and sting of REM sleep. His eyes focused and saw Jag peering into his face.

"Its time for you to go. You need to saddle your horse and be ready to leave within the hour," Jag said.

Looking around from where he lay on his bedroll in the sand Layman notice that the whole camp was packing as quickly as they could.

"What's going on?" Layman asked as he sat up.

"Dai Jia can't be found anywhere," Jag responded hastily. "I feel that it only means bad news and the council agrees. L'terin told me about her spying and I can only think that now that something has awakened in her. Something that I tried to keep hidden and buried in her mind for many years."

"Where do you think she has gone?" Layman asked, getting all the way to his feet. His sleepiness was gone now.

"North," Jag said looking that direction. "Possibly to the House of the Sun or some other refuge of Estalgend's servants. I have to find her before she makes any trouble for us."

"Then you aren't coming with us," Layman said knowing the answer.

"No, Gala will go with you. He knows what needs to be done. Trust in him, he can aid both L'terin and you in your quest."

"A quest that I am in the dark of what we wish to accomplish," Layman stated.

"Gala and L'terin know what needs to be done. I am also sending a compliment of Tevinite Guards with you. Whatever happens, protect L'terin at all costs." And with that Jag went into the jumble of travelers and was soon lost to Layman's sight.

Layman soon found and saddled, Hank. The old horse seemed very excited to see him, after not seeing Layman for most of the previous day. The old horse nuzzled his master's hand and whinnied over and over. Layman said a few words to his dear friend and patted the creature on the head.

Climbing onto Hank's back, Layman adjusted the belt from which his weapons hung. Layman scanned the area, trying to decode the controlled madness of the retreat from Rock to find the small band that would be awaiting him. Finally, he saw Gala and the old man saw him as well. Gala waved to Layman, motioning for him to hurry over so that they could soon depart. When Layman reached the Messenger, Gala nodded to the Wanderer and made a Tevinite signing with his hand.

"We ride on an important errand young traveler," Gala said. "Remember the Oath you swore in the tent. No matter what happens, save her. Remember that always and honor it."

Layman looked at the old man queerly, but as he finished speaking, Layman found himself distracted. L'terin had appeared and was garbed in a fashion that Layman had not yet seen. She wore a riding skirt, divided, so that she could properly ride a horse. On her side she a belted a small sheath. The blade was small, not much larger than a dagger, but it was strange to see her armed regardless. She led a horse as she came towards them, a brown mare with white spots. As she reached Gala and Layman, she mounted the horse. Layman looked at her incredulously.

"I thought women were supposed to ride in the wagons?" Layman asked, meaning no insult.

L'terin not seeing any slight towards her simply answered, "since I am in charge of this expedition it would not be suitable if I led it from the comfy confines of a wagon."

Layman looked at her puzzled and she gave him a determined smile, knowing that he was confused.

Stumbling over his words Layman said, "I thought Gala was to be in charge since Jag is leaving to look for Dai Jia?"

"No," the old man responded. "L'terin is in charge, and I am to be third in command."

Then who is in second of command?" Layman asked.

L'terin laughed as she looked to Gala. Surprisingly, the grizzled old codger laughed as well, like sandpaper on stone, and said, "You are."

The caravan that L'terin led out from Rock consisted of four wagons, Gala and Layman, and twenty Tevinite Guards. By the time they left many other caravans were heading out from the ancient cosmic Pillar as well. All the Tevinite people were headed back to their towns and provinces. Though there were many different residents in Star World, it seemed that now only the Tevinites stood completely against the rising power in the north.

The precession moved slowly as they broke away from Rock. L'terin rode at the head of the column, while the Tevinite Guards flanked the outsides of the wagons. Gala brought up the rear, as much to keep an eye on what was going on behind them as to be able to keep his own thoughts. The Tevinite Guards did not ride with an over abundance of alertness. They were crossing the Endless Desert, and if trouble were to come while the sun was high they would notice it well before it reached them.

The first day of travel was hot and slow. Layman rode Hank just slightly to the side of L'terin and her mare. The two spoke little to each other, but L'terin would at times turn to Layman and smile at him. She would turn quickly away as red tint colored her cheeks.

As they set up camp for the first night, the Tevinite Guards made a protective ring around the camp. The soldiers took turns throughout the night keeping watches. Gala made a fire in the center of the camp and called Layman and L'terin to its warm flames. Gala poked at the wood for a long time before speaking, lost in his thoughts and memories. When he finally began to speak his tone was stern for he was wary of what lay before them.

"I have been thinking about Dai Jia for most of the day. Her running away deeply concerns me. I think that we shall find trouble before we meet our destination," Gala said.

"I have yet to be told our destination. I do not know where we are traveling," Layman responded.

Gala looked to L'terin to answer, she was in charge after all. "We head first to a Tevinite village a few days east of here. We will gather more supplies and men there before heading off again."

"Where do we go after that?" Layman asked.

"To the edge of the Mountains of the Sun. We will make through the mountain passes until we come to the Doorway of Doom. We seek an ancient artifact that lies there."

"What artifact?" Layman asked.

A brief look was exchanged between Gala and L'terin before she answered, "we are not completely sure, but we believe it might be something we call, the Sphere of Light."

Layman looked at her simply with an obvious expression that he was waiting for her to continue.

"We are not completely sure what the Sphere of Light is," she said. "But, we do believe that it holds great powers and that it may hold the key to bringing back Tevindal from his Banishment."

The last statement hit Layman hard. His face looked dazed as if she had just struck him. His eyes rolled back and forth wildly, as if he sought rapidly his mind for a remnant of information that seemed pertinent. The two studied him, both mildly wondering if he had lost his mind.

"May hold the key," Layman finally whispered as if to himself only. "The Key! The Deceiver has crossed worlds searching for a Key. This must be what he is after. If this thing can bring back Tevindal from banishment then perhaps it can bring Devindal back as well."

Gala cursed loudly, while L'terin put her hand to her face in shock. "Then our mission is more dire than we originally thought," the Messenger said. "We will need to push harder in the coming days to make sure that we beat Dai Jia to whatever doom she is carrying with her. I will spread the word to the soldiers that we will leave before the dawn on the morrow," Gala said getting up from the small fire.

Layman watched him go from soldier to soldier talking to those that were still awake in low tones, gently shaking those that slept. Each man nodded at the change of plans, as if they were nothing out of the ordinary, and then went back to what they had been doing as Gala left them. Layman turned back to look at L'terin.

Her eyes studied him with a softness that calmed the storm that brewed in his mind. She smiled and he returned it. Layman opened his mouth to speak, happy that he now had her alone. But as word rose in Layman's throat she stood and said, "I think we need to go to sleep. The morning will come soon and we will need our strength if we are to hasten our speed."

Layman knew she was right and nodded. Layman still wished to stall her, to hear her tell one of her tales or to ask her questions about what was going on here in Star World. But, he did not get the chance, she said goodnight and excused herself going to her bedroll. Layman watched her and then stood up and went to Hank.

He made sure the horse was ready to go before dawn, which was only a few short hours away. Hank opened his eyes and nuzzled his master's hand. "You're a good boy, Hank," Layman said quietly to the horse. The creature's eyes watched its master intently, happy to be in his presence. "Go to sleep. We have a long day before us tomorrow," he said.

Layman then made his way to his bedroll that was in the center of the camp near L'terin's. The Wanderer moved as quietly as he could doing his best not to awaken the sleeping guards that would soon be up for their turn at the watch. Layman reached his bedroll and smoothed it out against the soft sand beneath. Lying down, he turned to L'terin wanting still to speak to her, but she was already fast asleep.

Pre-dawn came way too soon. Layman awoke abruptly to Gala shaking him. "You sleep like the dead, Wanderer," Gala said. "How'd you ever survive crossing so many worlds at war, I'll never know?"

Layman stood up and noticed the entire camp was already bustling. He swore slightly under his breath and made his way to Hank to prepare his saddle. It was dark with little light, for dark clouds had bunched up over the few hours he had slept. Layman got on Hank and rode over to the others.

L'terin sat silently on her horse chewing on piece of bread Gala had given her. The old man rode up and offered Layman some food as well. Layman took it and immediately started eating. "I don't remember seeing clouds on the horizon last night," Layman managed to say with his mouth full of dry bread.

"Nor did I," Gala agreed. "It came swiftly upon us this morning, though it is still dark. I believe that there is something sinister about this."

Layman looked at him questioningly and in response Gala nodded. "Gut feeling, boy. Storm clouds are few and far between in this place and they certainly don't creep up on you that quickly. When the sun comes up we will have a better look at them, but I don't think we will like what we see. I will spread the word that we leave now."

With that Gala sped his horse in the direction he had come barking commands as he passed soldiers and wagon drivers alike.

"Do you think these clouds mean something, too?" Layman asked L'terin with more than a little concern in his voice.

She looked up for a long time before answering him. She turned and looked at him and he could tell that she had not slept well. Her eyes were baggy, with dark shades of blues. Her hair was more than a little wild and it blew slightly in the current of the light cool breeze. Her lips were tight as if her attempt to smile at him was difficult. "I do. There just seems something wrong about them, a feeling more than anything. I agree with Gala, that when the sun comes up we are going to see something that we don't like."

Layman did not get a chance to respond for Gala had rejoined them. "My lady," he addressed L'terin. "We are ready to depart."

"Then let us not wait any longer." With that she spurred her horse forward.

...

Gala's predictions of the clouds proved to be right. The clouds dimmed the rising of the morning sun in a fashion that made them appear that they were striving against the orb's power in a battle of wills. The clouds were black and heavy, but looked like no rain clouds Layman had ever seen on any world. They were strangely shaped, with a geometry that seemed too odd to be normal.

Ripples appeared in different places in the congruent structure. They rolled in a line and then would turn and vanish, only to appear in a different spot a few moments later. The ripples seemed to make progress that was too similar to the movement of the caravan. The ripples seemed to be only overhead, none could be seen further away in the distance.

When the sun was judged to be fully up, Layman decided he had seen enough. He gathered his nerve and turned to L'terin. She rode quietly ahead of him leaving Gala and the Wanderer parallel to each other just slightly behind. The air about them clung and reflected the darkness from above in something that Gala had referred to as, "Message of Demons."

Layman broke stride up to L'terin. She turned and looked at him, and the fear and uncertainty in her eyes was easy to see. "L'terin," Layman started with the name feeling like mush in his mouth. "I think it would be smart if you rode with me on Hank."

She raised an eyebrow, but Layman could not figure out what thoughts went through her mind. She had been so confusing to him since they had kissed at Rock. Layman was even more uncomfortable since he knew that Gala was listening from behind them.

She sat pondering his words until a voice broke her concentration.

"I think it is a wise request, My Lady," Gala said. "He is here to be your protector after all."

L'terin looked at Gala and then back to Layman. She nodded her approval and then stopped her horse and dismounted. Layman helped her clamor up onto Hank's back. The horse whinnied and L'terin laughed breaking the previous tension that had been filling her mind. They both heard Gala calling for one of the Tevinite Guards to come and take L'terin's horse. Sitting in front of Layman, L'terin heard him whisper in her ear. He gave her a promise he would keep her safe and with that she smiled.

L'terin became the most talkative with Layman has she had been since they had left Rock. Layman wondered how much of this was because she was nervous of the strange clouds that seemed yet darker and eerier, and which continued the strange rippling, or because of the close proximity. Layman decided it did not matter which was the right answer. He enjoyed the time they spent talking about little things.

At midday the caravan stopped for a short rest and for lunch. By this time the sky was black, though somewhere above the sun shone brightly. The wind had picked up, but strangely had no effect on the sand. The air seemed thick, and if one listened closely it was as if there were sounds there that did not belong. The color of the air was a murky brown, like they were looking through muddy water. They were soon again on the move, as the day grew older so again did the sky begin to change.

...

The sky was raven, like a black death floating high above. The clouds rippled wildly, movements like serpents flowing in seemingly hundreds of places. The sun had long since gone down, but there was still light. The murky brown air had changed and now was illuminated by a blood red gleam. The change had happened suddenly as the sky star dipped down behind the world to be rid of the unholy current that hung over the planet.

Those of the caravan had been uncomfortable of the strange display in the sky all throughout the day, but now with the change to red and the apparent rise in the unnatural movement those feelings turned close to that of panic. The Tevinite Guards refused to stop, even though L'terin, Layman, nor Gala had called for such an action. The soldiers sat upon their horses with their eyes darting back and forth into the eerie darkness and not one of them had their steel sheathed.

The wind then began to howl and it was a wailing that suggested the tear in the vale of sanity. The air turned cold, to that of frigid ice. The rippling up above became rolling chaos, like a dam that would soon burst. Thunder now echoed in the deep, loud and full of power. Layman yelled to the soldiers to form a tight circle, to face their swords out against the night. It did not matter, for at that moment the dam broke.

Green lightning flashed all around them. It sizzled down from the sky, full of electric charge. The soldiers could feel the heat of the sky's discharge prickling across their skin. Their eyesight was momentarily dimmed from the tumult. Many shielded their eyes from the fury, and then looking slowly out into the din as the lightning faded.

The howl of the wind seemed to increase. It grew as if a great crescendo, a chorus of a demon's song. Layman looked wildly about drawing the small firearm from his side. L'terin's eyes were wild and full to the brim with fear.

Layman heard it first, mixed amongst the cry of the blowing current. He heard the bestial cries that howled in unison to the terrestrial song. Then he saw them, dim shapes from the outer darkness moving quickly forward, weapons in their cruelly shaped hands. Layman bellowed a warning then lifted his gun and fired.

The sound of the gunshot boomed and seemed to stop the calling of the wind. But, the enemies in the heart of the storm came on. They were swift and soon upon the defending Tevinite Guards. The creatures were hooded and in deep cowls of leather the color of red darkness. They shuffled, with their arms stretched downward before them holding sharp swords of strange angles.

The creatures leapt to reach the Tevinites sitting in their saddles. Their jumping was twice that of regular men adding to the already unholy aura of their beings. Tevinite Guards struck out in resilience against their growing fear. Some of the stormbeasts fell in heaps to the ground, slain by strikes of the soldiers of the Light, while others grasped riders and brought them to the sandy ground before putting cruel steel to their flesh.

Layman moved Hank about instinctively. Layman saw many of the creatures coming towards his position. Five more times Layman leveled his revolver and let it crackle fire out into the night. Five more times did hopping stormbeasts fall to the earth, not to ever move again. Layman knew he did not have time to reload for there were too many of the enemy upon them.

He holstered his weapon and after doing so his hand slid to the hilt of the blade that rested at his side. Layman roared out a wordless cry to the din of horror. The sound seemed to give hope to those men that now fought and bled around him. Then Hank stood up on his back legs, kicking at a stormbeast that had seemingly materialized before him with his front hooves as Layman drew in one quick motion Heaven's Star from its scabbard.

In the eerie darkness there was a new light, a holy light. Blue fire flared as the sword was revealed. Hank came back down, his opponent crushed underneath him. Layman held the sword out from his body, holding it high like a torch. A stormbeast moved in close with intent of cutting off Layman's arm. The Wanderer saw the monster and with a swift stroke removed the creature's head instead.

The star fire illuminated both Layman and L'terin, placing a glow around them, which appeared as the light would protect him. Layman spurred Hank forward into the battle, knowing the fight must be taken to the enemy, lest they all fall into shadow. The green lightning that had descended upon them was now met with a lightning storm of their own as Heaven's Star flashed brightly against all that approached the horse with two riders.

The Tevinite Guards, still outnumbered grew strength from the site of the flashing starsword. They plunged forward enveloping their leader, their steel flashing brightly in the reflection of the weapon of the God of War. They slew and were slain, but they delved deeper and the stormbeasts backed away, moving closer to the edge of the shadows. Layman roared, swirling his bright blue brand in the air stirring his troops onward and steel on steel clanged ever louder.

Then the lightning resumed, coming down to the sands in swift strokes. A dozen bolts lashed from the sky, followed by dozens more. The intense light became blinding for eyes set for darkness and the soldiers of Tevindal became momentarily dismayed. Fear made its way to the bravest, knowing that the stormbeasts' numbers must have swelled to undeniable odds. Then the lightning ceased and the red haze of the air had dissipated.

Men on horseback looked intensely around their surroundings but found no trace of foes. Their steel was tightly gripped as several soldiers began to notice the same thing. The enemy was gone, but gone as well were the bodies of those creatures that had been slain in the brief conflict. It appeared that both the living and the dead had been taken away by the same lightning that had brought them.

...

Sleep did not come to any that night. The darkness of the clouds above had faltered and been swept away, replaced by the comforting view of the swirling constellations. Graves were dug for those that had fallen during the battle. They had suffered surprisingly very few casualties. Many of the soldiers had light injuries, but they could continue on. A prayer service was given by Gala and for those that had fallen had only their swords plunged into the sand to be grave markers.

They rode that day, long and hard making their way quickly across the sands of the desert. All were plagued with weariness, but the hot sun did not hinder them. The battle against the stormbeasts had moved them to a point of determined madness. Even the horses did not resist under the grueling pace that was set.

The last leg of the journey was made in relative silence. Too near was the pain of the loss of those soldiers that would never see their home again. Too near was the fear of the unknown future, where beasts ride the lightning in numbers too great to be fought off. Too near was the coming doom that was gathering itself in the north under the banner of Estalgend, who used his mantle of deception for his own wicked purposes.

L'terin remained seated on Hank before her protector. Her face was a mask of grim determination. The fear that had painted it so often after the Council of Eight seemed to be gone. Some resolve had solidified within her, knowing that her mission was bigger than her.

The thought began to develop in her mind that perhaps the deeds that she preformed were greater than her world as well. It could be that the item at Dagar Domin could affect the fate of all men and worlds. Though this was a terrifying thought it actually distanced her from her fear. For her heart held onto the notion that if her path was that of some unseen destiny then somehow Tevindal would help see her through it. But, then again, Tevindal had been banished at Rantarok.

As night started to consolidate its reign, the town of Lansarn could be seen in the eastern horizon. The fading western glow cast its last light upon the town then made its way to fight the darkness that rested under the world. The town responded to the light, as citizens lit candles in their windows making the town a beacon, an oasis, in a place that is rightfully named the Endless Desert.

As the caravan limped its way to the outskirts of the bustling desert town it became noticeable that not all was right in Lansarn. Scorch marks marked some of the walls of the buildings of the town and some buildings and homes had been leveled by flame or other methods. What damage there was seemed new and recent, though any remaining fires had been thoroughly extinguished. Townspeople eyed them from windows as they approached and Tevinite Guards could be seen posted, and armed.

Gala spurred his horse onward to the nearest patrol and was followed closely by Layman. The soldiers immediately recognized the Messenger and sank their shoulders some, eking out some of their readiness. As Gala rode his horse quickly to them he turned the horse and started to speak even before the horse came to a stop.

"Beasts have been here, beasts that ride the lightning and the storm," Gala said. It was a definitive statement not a question. The soldiers nodded and quickly started talking as one, each man talking over the next. It was a wave of confusion.

"Speak! One man at a time!" He said pointing to a soldier, "you speak!"

"Yes, Priest Gala, they came last night in the storm and attacked us. Their numbers were relatively few thank Tevindal. But, some of the townspeople and members of the guard were slain. Ordinary men joined the fight with hatchets and pitchforks and helped us fight them off. But, it appears that we were not the only place that was attacked. Half a dozen representatives came into Lansarn this morning telling how some of the small outlying villages were attacked as well. It is believed that some of the villages, the very small ones, might have been destroyed."

Gala nodded grimly, thinking the same thoughts as the soldier quickly spoke of what had occurred. "Our caravan was attacked last night as well. Assemble the townspeople and the Guard. I will speak to them in the next hour."

"Yes sir," the soldier said and rushed off.

"L'terin," Gala said turning to her. "Lead Layman and go to my house. I have a few things I need to do, but will meet you there, soon. I have things I must speak to you about." He turned and galloped his horse off into the town.

L'terin leaned back and looked at Layman, "if you want to relinquish those reins I will lead us the rest of the way."

"Do you think I can trust you with, Hank?" Layman asked mockingly.

She glanced back quickly, giving him a quirk of a look, "yeah, I think I got it." She said with her eyes sparkling. Layman let out a hearty laugh, which seemed odd and strange to hear after what had befallen them and the people of the town.

"Lead on then," he said, and they made their way to Gala's home.

...

It was close to an hour before Gala came through the door. He was moving quickly, much faster than Layman would have given him credit for. He was continuingly wringing his hands together lost deep in his thoughts. He saw them and came near and sat down on the floor, where they waited. He looked long at Layman, weighing him on a scale in which Layman did not know how he was balancing.

"You fought well last night," Gala said. "Without you I am not sure we would have made it through the storm. The men were ready to break. Their fear was making its way into the depths of their hearts. But, then you drew the sword. If you meant to or not, you were able to rally them. You drove the burden of fear from their breasts. You saved us all from ruin."

Layman opened his mouth to protest but Gala quickly stopped him short. "You did," the old man said, "don't argue it. That is why I believe the mission must be changed from its original plan. I had meant to send with you many men into the mountains to find the path of Dagar Domin, but the enemy knows our path of action. His eyes will be watching. You two will go alone, even I must not accompany you now. I have other business, messages I must relate to the west."

"You cannot be serious?" Layman interjected. "I alone cannot stave off another attack like that."

"Layman," L'terin said, speaking quietly, "I believe in you. I think your sword alone will deliver us on this quest. I feel like it is only supposed to be you and me. I feel that is what destiny has placed upon us."

Layman shook his head.

"Layman," Gala said. "Numbers will not prevail in this mission, but being hidden from the eyes of the enemy. We do not have enough strength here to avail against any concentrated assault they may wish to make upon you."

"Won't our enemies make their way to this Dagar Domin?" Layman asked. "Perhaps they have already secured the item that lies there. Maybe they are marching back to Estalgend as we speak."

"No," L'terin said. "They do not know where the Doorway of Doom lies. They may have gathered such knowledge from Dai Jia that it is the southeast of the Mountains of the Sun, but that is hardly an accurate map."

"What L'terin says is true, Layman. Of those here only L'terin and myself know the path. But the eyes of the enemy will be watching any departure from this village to the southeast. That is why I will lead a company of the Tevinite Guard in that direction before swinging back to the west where my errands lie. You and L'terin will leave and head to the mountains from the northeast, then make your way south to Dagar Domin."

"It could work," Layman conceded.

"Good, it is settled then. I will have supplies readied for you. Get your rest for we all leave at dawn," and with that Gala got up and went for the door.

Chapter 8: A Quest for the Light

Layman and L'terin were ready well before the breaking of dawn. They both sat upon Hank hooded and cloaked. Their identities they would try to hide the best they could, but both knew that if they were spotted then their charade would most likely be discovered. Gala and his group of soldiers were ready as well. The Messenger came to them and gave them words of luck and prayers of protection and with that he left.

Gala led his caravan southeast out of the town hoping to draw any spies' attention away from Layman and L'terin as they moved out of Lansarn for their lonely ride to the Mountains of the Sun. For many hours they continued to don their cloaks until the heat from the sun overhead became unbearable. They removed the cloaks and hoods letting the small breeze cool off their heated flesh. They both knew that a disguise now was worth nothing, secrecy was their only chance.

They rode hard, and at the end of the first day the tips of the mountains could be seen in the setting of the sun. They glowed in the fading distance like sharp teeth jutting to the sky. They were like a great maw that closed about them to keep the inhabitants of this world stuck where they were. L'terin told Layman that no one knew of what rested behind the mountains, save only that is where the sun rises, giving the range its name.

The next day the mountains came closer into view. The mountains began to reveal their shapes and sizes with better clarity. Some were tall and seemingly impassible, while others sat crouched in the shadows of their older siblings. Though they were tall and menacing, Layman could not deny that they were beautiful as well.

On the third day they reached the base of the Mountains of the Sun. L'terin rejoiced as they made their way away from the desert and onto a pass that led deep into the valleys between peaks. Her heart soared at the thought that if they made it this far then the enemy did not know where they were. Layman agreed slightly, but cautioned her that there could be many dangers here in the mostly unexplored mountains. These dangers he reasoned to her would not be allied with those that sat like a rising power in the House of the Sun, rather they would be wild, but unrelenting just the same. L'terin realized he spoke truthfully and let her joy go back to a guarded fear.

But, they encountered no monsters or terrible beasts. They made their way south through tangles of brush that sat perched on high passes that gave overview to little glimpsed valleys and peaks that were littered below the narrow highways of the range. They witnessed beauty not found in the confines of the Endless Desert. There were trees of pine and small flowing streams of clear fresh water. The heat from the day's sun was continuously doused in the coolness of shadows and the leaf brimmed branches of trees.

It was a different world here, one that seemed far from the immediate doom of the brooding of war. The light flickered here, like dancing golden beams that reflected with the lining of red, green, and gold hues All was simpler, and on their third day on the high mountain pass L'terin began a song.

I had a dream of gold and blue

Of rain drops and morning dew

Lost in realms of long ago

A place of dreams in a city far below

On a purple hill and crested starlight

Where all things will turn out right

She stopped, her gentle voice still ringing out and being carried on the soft wind that caressed the cliff that they stood. Little had she sung in her life, knowing no songs, just stories and legends. She stood still, embarrassed not wanting to look at her companion. Layman too stood still, for he was stunned. Her voice was beautiful, the purest he had ever heard.

"I do not know why I sang just now," she conceded.

"It is a beautiful view," Layman said, moving up to her, looking forth into the valley that stretched below. There was a small stream that poured over a mountainside far to the east.

Her face set itself into confusion, "it was not the view that stirred me, well not exactly," she started. "It reminded me of something, something I have never seen before awake or asleep, nor read about in the legends of time. It was like some ancient memory that seemed to be mine and not mine," her voice faltered.

"I was told this could happen," her eyes now turned to Layman. There was wetness there, but she had no shame about it. "I was told things might come into my mind that would seem strange, like they belonged to someone else, or to others."

"Does this have to do with being, the Emissary?" Layman asked her.

She shook her head signifying it did and turned her gaze back to the valley that was far below. "They said that the soul of the Emissary might not be hers wholly. That it might be shared with others that had been many years or ages ago."

"Do you know who these others may be?" Layman asked. His voice sounded rough and grated and he coughed at the end of the question to try and hide the horrible sound. L'terin heard the uneasiness in his voice, but did not hold it against him. This was a strange concept for anyone, most especially her.

"No, well, not yet. I may learn soon when we reach Dagar Domin. I believe that what lies in the Doorway of Doom will answer all of our questions."

"How can you be so sure?" Layman asked.

She shook her head indicating that she did not know. Instead of giving him more insight of why she felt that way she asked instead, "do you remember the night before we left Rock?" Her eyes barred into his as Layman swallowed hard and nodded. The kiss that they had shared is what she referred to. She saw in his eyes that he knew what she meant. In the distance there was the sweet singing of birds as he leaned in and kissed her.

...

As the days swept by and the two made their journey farther south they noticed that the landscape became harsher and less hospitable. The trees with their colorful leaves faltered, and then completely gave away. The mountain streams became fewer and then almost nonexistent. The water they did find was flat and tasted impure.

Each day they came ever closer to their destination. They were like crawling insects over a vast terrain that was harsh and unforgiving. Their movement was slowed and the paths became tangled with sharp edges of rock and narrow passes moved over steep drops into the nothingness.

They found they needed to climb higher to gather their bearings. The climb brought them to a height where the wind blew hard and was unrelenting. L'terin believed that death was near. Layman covered her with extra cloaks of his and she was able to move onward, but he felt victim to the frigid air, though he trudged along without complaint.

With the height and its cold nature came also the view that they had desired. The peak they had climbed was one of the tallest ones around. They witnessed many of the other desolate peaks about them, scorched by cold and bitter frost. They looked out to the west and the Endless Desert, so close it seemed with its hot dry heat looming down on its inhabitants. But it sat there, too far away to warm them, like a teasing picture of paradise.

Layman was the first to see the storm to the south. It was the same eerie blackness that had tracked them across the brown sands on their journey to Lansarn. He wondered aloud if it had caught Gala in its net, if the soldiers in his charge were now locked in mortal combat. Sadness took him, but as L'terin moved forward and squeezed his hand she lent him strength.

"Their sacrifice is meant for our safe passage," she said in hushed tones.

Layman grudgingly agreed and forced his eyes to the south of the Mountains of the Sun and away from the storm conjured by the sorcerer, Estalgend. He looked long down the alley of mountain peaks wondering which one they sought. To him they looked the same gray dull stone thrust up from the confines of the world below.

L'terin peered at his side and as he squinted to make out differences she raised her hand, "it is there," she said.

Layman looked to follow the course of her finger, but could not make out the destination of her revelation. Her hand still upraised as if the mountain would begin to glow at her pointing, she finally turned to him.

"It is the one ringed in cloud," she said. "Mist rises from its summit for the Wells of Time within continue a constant churning to move the great unseen wheel of the universe."

"This wheel is under these mountains?" Layman asked looking confused.

"No, but I believe Star World is vastly important all the same. I believe we sit at the very edge of the Forever Night Sea, at Rock you witnessed one of the Pillars that originally held together the Realms. I also believe that besides being home to that important artifact that this world is also one of the Ultuma, one of the towers that connect the binding wall that does not allow the tranquil waters of the Sea of Darkness to flow out into the Void."

"Then what is it we search for at this Dagar Domin?" Layman asked. "Why is this place called the Doorway of Doom, but is a place of holiness? Why is this chamber called the Wells of Time so important? I think I deserve to know these answers," Layman stated, clearly expecting a detailed response.

"I can only tell you what I know and if what I know is completely accurate I am not wholly sure," she started. "It is called the Doorway of Doom because it is believed that the doom or destiny of the Ball of Light rests within its confines. It is not known for sure but that is what is believed by the Tevinite Priests and that is what seems can be deciphered from the readings of the Book of Saera."

"I mentioned some of what is known about the Wells of Time, but there seems to be more. We believe it to be an actual well, but its water is not the liquid that we drink when we are thirsty. It may be that all the doings of all the ages that have past or yet to come may be seen in the Wells. The current holds the threads to all the seeds of creation and has seen where they will lead when they come to fruition. Tevinite scholars have debated that it is possible that everything that may be seen in the Wells of Time will not truly come to pass, rather it shows all possible paths and solutions.

Meaning, if you were to turn around and continue to head east further into the mountains it would show the result of that as it would show what would happen if you decided to leave this world entirely. All ends can be seen and to one strong enough this place could direct you on anything you wish to achieve."

"Then why hasn't the Wells been used before?" Layman asked, sitting down on the hard rocks. L'terin joined him.

"We do not know if it has been used before. It seems that the barrier has always held, and it is the only chamber that Gala could not open. He could not solve its riddle."

"But you know how to solve it," it was a statement not a question.

"I am not sure," she said with faltering words. "It is thought that only the Emissary will be able to open the chamber and retrieve that, which is inside. What the object does or how it is used is a mystery to me. I do not know if the use of the Wells of Time is something I am supposed to do or not, I think not," she finished.

"Why?" Layman asked confused.

"Such usage of great power would be too much for a mortal, it is believed that even Tevindal did not have granted use of the Wells, it is not known if He has ever used it, but presumably it would only need to be used once to obtain the knowledge of all times and cycles of the Ball of Light. But, it is believed that the use of the Wells of Time by Tevindal would cost him greatly, and only at dire need would He decide to use it."

"But could not Estalgend use it, this Scourge? Could he not immerse himself into the waters and learn all the knowledge there is to know?" Layman asked.

"I do not think so," she started. "The same reason I do not think I can use it or that he can use it or any of the Lesser Gods before their demise at Rantarok. I think it would be too potent and too powerful. It would be instant destruction because of the vast knowledge would be too much for their minds to store. I do not know if even Devindal could use it."

"But, the Wells of Time seem guarded. It may be that only Tevindal and the Emissary can pass the final barrier, or that Tevindal may not be able to pass the barrier Himself, and in his stead has anointed a chosen one to do that for him."

"The Emissary." Layman stated.

L'terin nodded.

"Then, if the Wells of Time are not the desired conquest of either Estalgend or us then what is this object that is so important?"

"The Sphere of Light," L'terin responded.

Layman put his hands up indicating that her simple explanation meant nothing to him.

"I do not know what it is exactly, nor did any of the members of the Council of Eight. It is in the chamber though, floating there in the Wells of Time, or so Gala said. It is a bright and beautiful orb, and the council members believe that this is what the Emissary is supposed to retrieve, but you believe it is also the Key that Estalgend searches for, the corrupted and foul Wizard Scourge," she said the last words with venom.

"It is possible that the orb has taken powers from the Wells, and made it less potent that one such as I can hold it. I was adamantly warned though, not to let others touch it, even you."

Layman stood, hearing enough explanation for now. "They believe I have a different path, this being Chief, which makes no sense because I will not be a ruler here or anywhere. Come on, the hours grow late. We need to find our way off this mountain top before the sun descends."

Layman gave his hand to L'terin and helped her up. He embraced her and whispered into her ear telling her that he would see her safely through all of this. The words stung in his throat as he thought about Johanna and the promises he had made to her as well.

Coming over to Hank, Layman took the feedbag off from around his head. The horse tossed his tail and looked cockeyed at his friend and master. Layman stroked the creature's mane realizing with a smile that Hank actually enjoyed this weather. The horse had been in the desert heat non-stop since their arrival. Hank did not get the luxury of riding in wagons like the so-called Wanderer did in the beginning.

Those things had passed now. There were events to transpire. A quest unlike any previous endeavor now lay at the feet of the Wanderer and his horse. This was a quest for the light of all things, lest the darkness consumes the universe and evil prevail in a triumphant eternity.

Layman thought of all his previous companions and how they had withered and fallen into shadow and death. He looked to L'terin, a beautiful gem plucked from the endless wastes of the dust and sand. She had gleaming eyes and a radiance unlike to any other woman he had ever seen. It hurt him to think that, he had loved Johanna and she had loved him. But, she was now gone.

His love had been stolen from him on a world of chaos and war. Johanna's last breaths had been a jagged heaving to cling onto life. They had been futile. She had expired in his arms, her lifeless eyes gazing into his. Would L'terin's life end the same way? He could only hope his thoughts were formed out of fear and not foresight.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she got up onto Hank's back.

"No," he innocently lied. He climbed up behind her. "Let us ride now to this Dagar Domin and accept what fate awaits us there!" he exclaimed as if it were a challenge.

Then they rode down from the mountain to a pass below to start the last leg of their journey to the Doorway of Doom.

Chapter 9: Dagar Domin

Lightning danced and thunder roared in the sky. The rain that came down was slick and cold, fat drops of water that distorted vision. L'terin and Layman had reached the mouth of Dagar Domin as the storm had begun. Their minds were not troubled though, for this was an earthly storm, not one reckoned by dark spell-craft cast by evil wizards on top of tall towers.

The entrance of the cave was narrow, like an opening for a mouse in one of the homes of Layman's home world. They moved slowly down the cramped corridor allowing only the occasional flicker of lightning outside to guide their way. The walls were of un-carved stone, seemly a natural happenstance forged by the push of rock from the earth over thousands of years. The cave's corridor quickly bended and they followed the curve to a slightly closed door.

From the cracked doorway came a glow of illumination from beyond. The glow was blue like starlight with a mingling tint of yellowish gold. Looking at L'terin, Layman placed his hand on the stone door. She nodded, and he pushed letting the door move backwards. They both gasped at what they saw, Hank whinnied behind them.

The opening of the door revealed a vast chamber lined with torches that gave off the beautifully colored light. The walls and ground were not of un-worked stone, rather they were smooth, wrought by talented hands. The walls were decorated with valuable gems of many colors and the floor was polished marble.

As they moved forth into the room, Layman brought Hank over to a corner of the chamber. The Wanderer patted his old friend's mane and told him to stay put. Layman took a handful of oats from his pack and gave it to the horse. There was a promise of more oats to come if Hank followed his master's orders.

Layman and L'terin moved across the vast chamber bewildered by its magnificence. At the room's center there was a tall pillar of ivory and gold swirling up to the high ceiling above. The column had intricate workings of scenes of events that had taken place over the Dunlyne, Torlyne, and Forlyne. They were scenes of battle and discovery, winding up in a procession of history.

From top to bottom they counted a total of three solid golden orbs, three incarnations of the Ball of Light. The two looked at each other letting unspoken words reach the same conclusions; the depictions of history have been here since the beginning and that the Ball of Light would solidify itself one last time. But, was that time approaching soon or was it still thousands of years away when both of them would be forgotten dust?

"Let's go on," Layman said, gently tugging her away from the rising column. They moved towards the back of the chamber. There was a throne of pearl and adamant, which neither dust nor dirt touched. It rested at the far end of the great parlor of Dagar Domin. They came upon it and held in their vision for many long moments.

"There is an ancient inscription on it," L'terin said moving closer to examine the lordly seat. "I cannot make out the words or tongue, but it is unlike any I have ever seen, but..." she trailed off.

"But, what?" Layman asked prodding her to complete her thought.

"It seems like it is familiar, somehow, like a distant memory floating there just out of reach. It feels like I could sit here and contemplate it, but the distance of being so close, but yet so far away would only drive me to a perpetual madness where all I would discover is that my mind had been lost."

Layman looked away from the throne, though he found the deed a bit taxing to do. He saw an open doorway not too far behind the throne that led to a hall beyond. The hall seemed bathed in the same light as the chamber. Layman moved closer to the door as L'terin still stared at the throne, obviously still enchanted by the hidden message. As he peered down the passageway he saw several doorways on both the right and left sides of the hall. At the passage's end he beheld in his sight a great arch that presented a foreboding sense of some ancient guarded treasure room.

"Let us try this path," he said, and pulled her after him.

She did not resist, but kept her eyes on the glittering throne till it was out of sight. The two stood in the hall, peering down its long corridor of side rooms and chambers. They slowly began to walk looking into each room as they passed.

They saw many strange things in these rooms. Some of the exposed chambers held great treasures of stone statues, whose likenesses neither Layman nor L'terin could establish. One held a massive navigational chart that spread across a great looming wall. On the chart was the entire Forever Night Sea, spread out in minute fashion demonstrating all of its glory. L'terin stared in awe at the cosmic map, but Layman dragged her away in disappointment. They did not have the time to examine all of the wonders of this place. They had a mission to complete, one that may be of dire need to their friends.

More amazement they passed as they moved down the hall. Layman stiffened himself, and no longer looked to the hidden wonders, finding strength to his will, rather than temptation. L'terin was more easily conquered by her curiosity. The young woman gaped at every doorway, wanting nothing more than to immerse in the secret knowledge hidden in an ancient bastion of time and space. But, Layman was unrelenting.

They came to the arched doorway and stopped. L'terin gave up her distractions and turned to focus on what lay before them.

"I believe this is the first sealed door that Gala opened," She said. "It should be safe to pass."

Layman hesitated, not willing to move forward. He believed her, but if she were wrong it would spell the end of their journey.

She looked at him patiently, "Layman, there is no barrier. It has been removed, see?" she said as she walked forth under the arch.

Layman gasped and pawed at her trying to grab any scrap of clothing to draw her back, but she was already through the archway. She turned, stood, and stared at him from the other side.

"I told you, safe and sound. Come on."

He followed her through the arch.

...

At the end of each of the chambers was another stone arch, which Gala had already figured out and disabled. Each room was identical to the next, save for the adorning elements. Some of the items, which had been found in the chambers had been taken by the Tevinite Priest, other things, such as large statues or monuments had been left behind. What remained in the halls of Dagar Domin was wondrous and mystical.

As the two moved slowly towards the end of the great hall they witnessed a stone archway they both deemed to be the last. Unlike the other archways, this one was shrouded in a humming blue shield, like a pulsing mist that barred their passage to the beyond. They did their best to look at what rested within the blocked chamber and what they could perceive startled them both.

The room was alive with plants and flowers of many colors, like a rainbow of life, hidden in the depths of the mountain. The floor appeared transparent through the haziness of the protective shield, like a reservoir of priceless crystal. At the far end stood the Wells of Time. It was an azure slated monument, rising close to thirty feet in height.

There was a continuous flow of emerald liquid that fell from the height like a waterfall, down into a basin of amethyst stone. Within the basin of collected tranquil waters floated the Sphere of Light. It was brilliant and beautiful, almost too much to look upon. It held a bright fire that came from within and its white flame burned with the green about it causing trails of emerald mist to circle about it.

Standing on either side of the Wells of Time was a statue. The two statues held an ornate likeness of the beings they represented, seemingly presenting the actual flesh of those they stood in place for. The statue of the Wells of Time's right wore a dress and veil of pure white silk. Her features surpassed that of beauty and held such holiness unmatched by anything the two had ever witnessed.

L'terin gasped, as if whimpering she said, "Hail, Lady Laevindal, Daughter and Flame of Tevindal, our master and hope. Our White Rider from the white clouds stand with us, lead us, and deliver us from the darkness."

The statue on the Wells of Time's left stood majestically with flowing robes of purple cloth, embroidered with golden rose petals. The statue's eyes were of the purest emeralds, her hair was flowing amber. She stood with her hands clasped together, outstretched. Sitting upon her palms, prepared for flight, were two pearl doves.

"Breina Goldenflower," L'terin whispered, her voice cracking.

Layman quickly glanced at his companion. His thoughts swirled on what she had told him about the properties of the Emissary. Looking back at the flanking statues strange ideas and possibilities cluttered his mind. But, as he stared full of wonder and thought he soon found that thoughts fled from him, leaving only a blank and dumb emptiness.

It was that moment, when his thoughts and imaginations fled, like riding the currents of an unattainable sea, did Layman for the first time look at what was behind the Wells of Time and the two statues that kept it company. There was not a wall that should indicate the end of the cave or palace, which the place seemed more comparable, instead there was darkness. It was a black nothingness, which seemed to almost swirl in its tones of darkness. What lay behind was not the dark tide of the Forever Night Sea, rather he looked out from the parapet of Ultuma to the Void that lay beyond.

As he stared transfixed to the Great Emptiness his heart and thoughts were stolen. He ceased to remember all that he was and the many deeds of his life. He felt the presence of life draining from his body, but cared not. By staring at what no mortal should look upon caused him to fade.

He was jolted then, and thoughts and memories flooded back into his mind, cramping it and causing a great tingling like pain. And what seemed like a voice from some other world, Layman heard, "do not look into the Dark Place that is beyond, for it is death."

Layman's soul returned to his body and he turned to look at L'terin. Her eyes peered into his and her hand held his with a great tightness. He breathed deeply and ushered out a word of sincere thanks. She smiled, and then she turned her concentration to the binding shield before them.

...

They stood there for nearly an hour. Layman had given up and sat down to try and clear his mind to think. He was not the best person in figuring out riddles, and if Gala, who was good at that kind of thing had failed? Then how was he supposed to help anyway? Besides, he thought, L'terin is the Emissary, the puzzle is probably meant for her alone.

Layman decided it was in the best interest of both of them not to disturb her. She looked at the field with strong concentrating eyes, and then would peer into the shielded chamber as if her mind was working something out. Her gaze would repeatedly return to the two statues standing watch over the Sphere of Light and the Wells of Time.

Layman thought that the statues had to be the key of figuring out the puzzle. The Council of Eight had let L'terin know that they believed her to be this Emissary, which somehow contained the reformulated spirits of time and history. This thought caused Layman to forget about the puzzle of the door, and made him start to think about the puzzle of the woman before him.

There seemed to be special qualities about her, but not of the type of special qualities the priests were talking about her. He wondered also how she could have the spirits of others? Was she a combination of spirits? Maybe, she was her own person and the others were in there, locked away and dormant waiting for some self-discovery to come forward and aid her in her supposed destiny.

If the other spirits came forward would L'terin still remain? Would this young woman that he had fallen in love with, still exist? Or, would she switch off as these other souls?

He did not get his answer as he looked at her. Her brow was creased in great concentration. He saw that her breathing was heavier now, almost labored. He thought she might be on to something, but dared not disturb her, lest she lose her thoughts to the unseen wind.

"I think, I understand," she whispered. The statement was said to herself, not to Layman. He stood up anyway and came to her side hoping that his presence would be enough to coax any more tangled thoughts out of her that she could have her mind's wandering come to fruition.

"I know what I have to do," she said.

This time Layman did interrupt, "are you sure?" he asked nervously. "If you try and are wrong," he started.

"Then, I am dead," she finished. "But, it is something I have to try and we will never know which solution is the correct one unless we put it into action. But, if I am truly this Emissary, which," she turned and looked at Layman. "I think now that I am, then it will work and it will obviously work on the first attempt."

"What do you have to do?" Layman asked. "How is it that you figured out the riddle and Gala could not?"

"Maybe Gala did figure out the riddle," she said. "At least part of it."

"What do you mean," Layman asked in confusion. "What part of it?"

"The part that it was meant for only one person to complete. That only the Emissary would have the necessary tools to complete the action. That she would contain the essences of the two guardians of the chamber," she said pointing to the two statues. "I contain them, they are within me, and I have felt them awaken."

Layman was not sure how exactly to respond her statement. He looked at her noticing that her eyes glowed with anticipation. She had a small, determined smile on her face, which held a confidence that boomed from her in volumes. But, he noted, other than that she did not look possessed by two other spirits, which subsided his fear some.

Layman gathered his voice and asked, "How have they awakened?" Then he thought for a second and clumsily added, "Are you still...you?"

He expected her to react angrily. Maybe she would turn and snarl at him educating him on what a fool he was. These thoughts scared him. But, they were not as terrifying as the prospect that she would answer by saying, "no."

Instead, she turned away from the shielded archway, the first time in over an hour. And, upon her face was a huge smile that made her face glow like the soft touch of twilight before the rising of the sun. Laughter was in her eyes and on her voice.

"Of course I am still me," she said looking him the eyes. "Do not be afraid. I will not turn into someone else and forget my feelings for you," the last came out softly with such tenderness that Layman became visibly shaken in his own gratitude and observance to his own seemingly stupidity.

"I just thought..." he started.

"You just thought that the girl before you would cease to exist and become two other women," she said with no hint of cruelty or anger. "I think elements of their presence are part of who I am, but they are not me, they are themselves. I have been chosen, for what reason, I don't know? But, they have chosen me. I am only the vessel to bring them to the proper place so that some cosmic plan may be carried out. That is my purpose, and it is a great honor. I accept it willingly and will face whatever doom or fate that awaits me because of it."

Layman nodded. She turned completely away from the archway now and came into his embrace. He kissed her on the forehead and spoken tender words into her ear. She smiled at the words, and closing her eyes she sank completely into him, thoroughly enjoying the moment of bliss.

They separated after what seemed an eternity. The absence of her physical presence made Layman breathless as he looked into her now opening eyes. She smiled again and ruffled her own hair, sweeping back wisps of tangles that had fallen across her red-tinged face.

"You must move back now. For it is time for me to do what we came here for," she said in a tender voice.

Layman obliged her request and moved several yards back down the hallway. He watched over his shoulder as he backed away. He could not see her face, but he could tell that she had sunken into a trance. He heard traces of murmuring, and they seemed to be from multiple sources and tones and he wondered if the three souls were holding council.

L'terin's head snapped up. Her eyes peered through the blue shield as her arms began to ascend at her sides. Her palms were faced upwards and her head tilted back slightly as a low tender melody escaped from her lips.

The song started softly, it had words and tones that Layman could not understand, but it was beautiful beyond imaging. The vibrant voice that grew louder seemed not like the voice of L'terin at all. It was like an echo of the past, un-shadowing lost visions that had been seen by those in uncounted millennia beforehand. Layman beheld images of a forming red city and a small tree where two souls huddled within for safety and comfort.

The song grew in magnificence, unfolding words of an ancient tongue. It seemed that now a choir of Falina sang in the narrow hall on the edge of the Void. Layman wept openly, unashamed of the tears that streaked his cheeks. He knew now he listened to a voice lost long ago, crushed under the ruin of an ancient tower, he listened to the voice of the Goldenflower.

Layman no longer had the strength to stand. He could not withstand the assault of the song, for he realized it held great power. He crumbled unceremoniously to the floor, laying there laboring to breath. He watched with what he thought as "dying interest," for he felt that his life was draining away and he would soon perish. For, Layman believed the Song to be divine in nature and his mortal body was too weak to be in the presence of such power.

As he lay, his life ebbing out of him, he witnessed a new change from L'terin. Her upraised palms began to glow with a curious light. The light grew bright, like small flames it began to burn with a golden hue. The light was pure and wonderful; Layman could feel its heat, like a warming caress. His weakness began to fade and strength returned to him. His pain and worries were swept aside and he stood with renewed vigor.

The light grew brighter until it seemed her hands were stark burning brands aflame. Her song grew louder as this happened, but the strength of the flames was able to counterbalance the effect the two miracles had on Layman. He felt his mind become numb and his thoughts melted away as he beheld this woman before him in such majesty in the likes he had never seen before.

He could see the shield before her changing in its stature. The blue mist shook as if battered and turned from blue to green and then to yellow. Its thickness was being thinned out, worn down by the song that assaulted it, until it finally turned to one last color; white. It was then that L'terin's burning hands reached out from their upraised position and were moved towards the faltering shield.

Layman tried to move, to find someway to stop her from touching the shield. Gala had told them it would be death to do such an act, but his body would not move. The hands of the young woman descended and being pushed out in front of her they came forward closer to the protection of the chamber beyond. But, as her hands came near the ancient barrier, the fiery flames on her hands melted the white woven particles that barred their way.

Like water, the shield began to drip down from top to bottom of the archway until the floor was soaked in its ancient residue. L'terin moved down, even to her knees to continue the dismantling of what remained of her task until it was completely gone. The way beyond now stood open before them and L'terin returning to her feet ceased her song. Its absence was like the echo of darkness, like life moving towards death.

Layman felt sorrow rack his body as he absently wept. And, he watched as her hands subsided the flame that lit them. The fire died down until there were no flames left, but he noticed her hands still glowed with eerie beauty, the reverence of holiness.

For many long moments she stood facing the open doorway. For many long moments Layman stood watching her in too much awe to speak any words. Then she moved forward into the last chamber of Dagar Domin, and she was not harmed. She walked up to the two majestic statues that stood in their eternal watch of that place, and looking up at them she moved between them and stood at the base of the Wells of Time.

There she peered down at the Sphere of Light that floated in the radiant waters. It turned ever slowly, letting its light flash slowly over the chamber, like a beacon calling the mariner home. Layman had made his way to the open arch, but did not enter. He felt that it was not his right to enter such a place, that only L'terin was meant for such a deed.

With her hands still a-glow she reached forth and cusped the shining orb on each side and lifted it from the churning liquid. There was then a flash like fire and it seemed that the light in the halls of the cavern were snuffed out, and there came forth a new light. And the Sphere of Light shone like a star, but with greater beauty and brilliance and tears streaked Layman's face anew.

L'terin noticed none of these happenings, for she was instantly consumed by the sphere that she had retrieved. And it was in that instant that she hefted the orb from its ancient tranquil pool that L'terin was gifted the knowledge of the true origins of the sphere. Her mind seemed to melt away as a multitude of images flooded into her. She saw many things, answers and riddles, and riddles within answers. She saw all time and could move forward and back in its entirety.

But, the thoughts that went with the images were too confounded and deep for her mortal mind to comprehend. She saw plans within plans and flickers of the duty prescribed to her. She knew that to turn away from her destiny would cause a disruption to the ruin of all. And this knowledge did not belong to her alone, for she knew that the price had been paid on the Cosmic Field of Rantarok, and she held in her hands the Eye of Tevindal, plucked out by the Lord's own hand and thrown deliberately into chaos.

Then she turned back and looked upon her companion. Layman, standing at the foot of the archway, watched her intently. He saw that her eyes were wide and filled now with such knowledge that he would never possess. She moved forward, away from the Wells of Time, holding the Key of the Universe in her gentle hands.

"Layman," her voice was little more than a whisper. "This is the Key we have searched for. This is the most important treasure in all the great vastness of the Forever Night Sea."

She had reached his side and stepped out into the hallway. As she did the protective barrier reformed it self, barring passage to any others that may wish to come and pollute the Holy Waters within. Layman jumped at the reforming of the barrier, but L'terin seemed not to notice it at all. Her eyes blazed as if one consumed by too much drink, for it was the truth, for she had drunk the knowledge of time.

"What is it? What does it do?" he asked her. His eyes did not leave her but searched them to locate what wonderful secret she held. His waiting was not long.

"Layman, this is the Eye of Tevindal! He plucked it from his own head during his confrontation with Devindal at Rantarok. By casting his eye into the Wells of Time he was given knowledge of all paths of time. This allowed him to see what must be done so that he may have a complete victory over his enemy. He has seen this path! He banished both himself and his eternal enemy for a reason, and he has left the path laid bare for you and I to complete it."

Layman felt shock waves roll through his body. He had been told he was to be some kind of chief for the tribes of Star World, a claim he still believed to be insane, but he was now being told that it was his mission to help Tevindal finish off the Demon of the Abyss. He looked for a path to escape, a place to run, but there was nowhere to go. He looked back at L'terin's face, and he did not know if even her beauty could quell his fear.

"I thought we were trying to stop, Estalgend? He muttered. "I cannot face Devindal. Even if that is the Eye of Tevindal," he said pointing. "I do not see how that will make us mightier than all the great heroes that have been part of the three cycles of the Ball of Light?"

She looked at him, weighing her words before she responded, "the path that lies before us is tangled and murky, like wind-blown waves during a storm." She smiled at that. "I have finally seen what an ocean looks like," nodding her head to the Sphere of Light.

"But, it does not seem that being mightier than those that have come before us is the main issue. There will be the need for deeds of strength and valor, but we will have the aid of others when the time comes. We must expect the unexpected. Some of the images shown to me are clear, though I cannot see the reason for it. But, remember this Layman, ill events must take place for this path to succeed, even if those events are terrible."

"I don't know what you are talking about," he said in defeat. "I wish I did, but I am sure that I cannot hold the Sphere and gain that knowledge can I?"

"No," she responded. "I am allowed to hold it only because the Fire of Tevindal is within me, the Lady Laevindal's blood. It is through her power that I alone can hold this, anyone else would be consumed by its power and destroyed."

"Then why does Scourge want it so bad if it would destroy him?" Layman asked.

"I do not know," she said reluctantly. "Maybe he is powerful enough to hold it, or he believes it will do something for him. Or, maybe he wants me to have it so that he can twist me to his evil will."

"Then let us put it back! Let no one ever touch it again. The shield can be put back in place and Scourge will never be able to finish his dark plans."

"No, Layman," Even without the Key he is immensely powerful. Without it he would still be free to move unchecked across the planets of the Realms of Confusion and worlds would continue to fall until he was King of the Universe. Then those that survived would be his slaves or would hide in the waste places and be dealt misery all of their days. No, we must follow the course that has been set for us. We must move forward to bring this cosmic dance to its last steps."

With that she turned and swept through the hallway, leaving Layman to hurry to stay in her wake. Layman thought that she would never slow down, for no matter how fast he went she was always ten feet in front of him. Suddenly she stopped, leaving Layman reeling. He almost collided with her, but she seemed not to notice. They were almost to the end of the long hallway, close to the main chamber of Dagar Domin.

"In there," she pointed into one of the rooms they had passed by earlier. "There is an item you will need. You will know it when you see it. Go now, and retrieve it."

Layman gave her a sideways glance, but she was already moving. He looked at her and then glanced back into the room. He did not see anything that immediately caught his eye. Looking back to L'terin he noticed that she was almost to the where they had left Hank. Turning back to the room he went in.

There was more in the room than appeared. Behind a few statues were items piled up in heaps. Some piles were of riches uncounted. Layman looked longingly at these, but moved on. He saw racks of weapons, many which were long gilded swords wrought with gemmed hilts. None of these were superior to his own weapon, so he knew this was not what he sought.

As he moved and sorted through piles of gauntlets and other equipment something caught his eye. He glanced at what he had seen and noticed a dirty yellow piece of fabric sticking out from underneath a suit of red-tinged chain mail. He lifted the ancient mail and moved it over to another pile. Looking down, he saw what was now revealed to him, a flag.

Layman did not understand the importance of the tattered banner that lay folded before him. But, he forsook his thoughts of wonderment. Reaching forth he picked up the banner and took his pack from his back to place it gently inside. Placing the pack on his back he froze.

There were sounds now from the down the hallway. The sounds were a mix of confrontation and voices. L'terin's voice could be heard rising above the din, demanding that her attackers stand back. There was laughter at this; it was loud, clear, and evil. Layman recognized Dai Jia's tone in the sound. The evil sister said something, but the distance muffled it.

Layman turned now and ran from the chamber. His feet took him swiftly down the corridor, but the echoes of his falling feet announced his coming like a beating drum. When he reached the entrance chamber of Dagar Domin both L'terin and Dai Jia were nowhere in sight, neither was Hank for that matter he thought. But, he was not alone.

Standing at the bottleneck of the entrance stood six creatures. Creatures seemed the only term that would register in Layman's mind, for he did not know what they were. They were hunched forward and wore what appeared to be a mane of hay on their backs. Long beaks protruded from their strangely angled faces and Layman could see that their eyes were a milky white substance.

They moved forward, walking as if they were the descendants of devil spawned birds. Their long clawed toes clacked against the rock making the horrid sound resonate throughout the chamber. Layman wanted to fall back, turn and run if he could, but he could not. L'terin, he knew, had been taken by a company of these monsters under the leadership of her half-sister, each moment she was moving further and further from his grasp. Besides, he thought in a sickly sense of humor, there was nowhere to hide in this dead-end cave anyway.

The demonic creatures made the first strike as Layman stood there staring at them, lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts. They brought up their steel, flickering it with un-human strength. Flashes of black darkness arced through the air before Layman as he moved back in a defensive position. The black blades that the monsters carried were sharp and undoubtedly forged in some dark smithy forgotten by time and space.

Layman brought Heaven's Star up to bare. The blue bladed sword hummed as it deflected the blow of a coarse black blade that chipped from its connection from the sword once used by a God. The creatures moved now, creating a fan-shaped formation as they made to work their way around to flank their prey. Layman backed up slowly, but desperately, trying to put his back up against one of the rock walls to stamp out their perceived attack plan.

Layman felt stone stop him, and holding Heaven's Star with one hand he let the other drop to his side. He drew the revolver, and cocking it he aimed at the nearest creature, they did not yet perceive the danger of the leveled weapon he knew, such knowledge caused him to smile. He pulled the trigger. The concussion of the weapon firing in such a place rattled the walls as the intended target slumped to the marble floor.

The creatures stopped in shock. Their white sickly eyes looked at him weighing him with more respect as an enemy. They came on now, as fast as they could. He knew they did not know he had only had five shots left, but it did not matter. With their speed Layman knew he would never be able to fire all of the rounds in his weapon. He fired what he could.

Three more blasts of thunder echoed out into the deep. It seemed as if in slow motion. Layman's thoughts seemed to drag on and he could almost swear he witnessed the flame from the barrel slowly emerge and lick the edges of the chrome plated firearm. It was nonsense he knew, but he held tightly onto that belief.

Two more of the beasts fell to the floor, their black blood oozing out of their wounds. The creatures were nearly on him now and left him with no choice but to abandon his gun. Dropping the small firearm, he gripped the hilt of his starsword with both hands. The blade of the sword flared as he held it with all his might.

Bringing the sword in a sweeping arc he let it move with a fluidness and strength that cut through the first monster's black sword and passed through the beast's arm cutting loose the sinews. The creature roared with such venom that seemed more violent than the blasts of the gun. Layman ignored the injured creature and brought his attention to the two other enemies that were upon him. They were strong and swift, and moved apart from each other to minimize the effectiveness of the blows of Layman's weapon.

Clicking noises came from where Layman believed their mouths to be and was terrified to realize that such demonic sounds were their way of communication. Both stood at guard, drawing Layman's attention. With each attack stroke that Layman wielded the monsters took step backwards drawing Layman away from the wall. Layman knew they had a plan, but he did not realize what it could be.

His thoughts understood the plan when the firing of his fallen gun interrupted them. Chipped rock stung his face as the gun boomed a second time. The now one-armed creature looked at him in what seemed a ghastly smile. The two other foes stood back now, letting their injured comrade have its revenge for the dismemberment it had suffered.

The creature, now understanding how to correctly use the gun pointed it directly at Layman's chest. Layman watched in disturbed interest as it pulled the trigger again. Click. Click. Click. The beast shook the weapon in confusion, not comprehending why the weapon did not boom out its death any more.

"Its out of bullets," Layman said to the confused monster and he strolled up and sliced off its head.

Layman turned back to his remaining foes. They had not used the distraction to move in for the kill, for they were as confused as their dead friend. Layman did not give them time to react. His attack was that of furious swings from the starsword. Black blades danced to resist his powerful charge, but soon Layman was down to only one opponent.

The remaining monster seemed to be the most fluid fighter of the six that had attacked him. It was able to counter each of Layman's strokes, and counterattacked with many well-timed strokes of its own. They circled each other feeling out how the other would react. Finally, Layman had had enough, L'terin had been kidnapped and each moment spent here with this thing took her further away from his grasp.

The Wanderer came then with mighty purpose. His strokes were wild and violent and sparks flew from the connection of their blades. The monster did not give up or fall into fear. It held its ground and parried each of the frenzied attacks. But, the black blade was no match for that of Heaven's Star and like one of its unfortunate comrades before it, the black blade snapped off at its hilt.

Layman saw his opening and snarled in his apparent victory. Layman twirled his body around, leveled his sword, and slammed it home in the belly of his enemy. The blade burned and slid deep through the creature's entrails until the pommel struck flesh. Layman stared victoriously into the milky white dying eyes. But, the creature had one last act of life and it brought the hilt of its broken sword down upon Layman's head. Then did the creature die and Layman sunk into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Chapter 10: A Spirit Intercedes

"Wake up."

The words were whispered with passion and calmness at the same time.

"You must wake up for time grows short," the voice spoke again.

Layman Salidan's eyes fluttered open. His mind sought desperately for the confirmation of where he was and why his head throbbed with blinding fire. He sat up and let the memories come back to him. He looked and saw the carnage that lay on the floor of Dagar Domin.

His thoughts went quickly to L'terin. L'terin had been taken by Dai Jia, betrayed by her sister whose name meant, Dark Eye. With the memory restored and the knowledge that he needed to get to her, he did his best to stand up. His plans of rising were thwarted as he quickly fell back down. He needed a few more minutes before balance came back after his forced unconscious state.

As he sat there he tried to remember the voice he had thought he had heard. It had told him to wake up, he wondered who the voice was supposed to belong to. Layman was worried on how long he had been out as well.

"Good, you are awake," the voice spoke.

Layman shifted as he sat. He looked frantically for the speaker of the voice and for a weapon to defend with. He saw Heaven's Star only a few feet away, still impaled in the last stormbeast he had slain. He tried to move for it, but fell on his face. He waited for the blow that would be his death.

"Be at peace, Layman Salidan," the voice said. "I am not here to harm you."

Layman relaxed a little as he looked around for the source of the voice. He saw no one nearby, but as his groggy vision cleared he noticed a slight shimmering of light. It took him a moment to realize that it seemed familiar. He had seen this light before.

The memory came back to him. The first night that he had tried to cross the Endless Desert, he had seen a shimmering of light on the wind. He had worried that the Deceiver, the wicked Wizard Scourge, had spied him out. It appeared as he sat there that maybe this was not the case.

The shimmering light hung there motionless for a moment longer. Then the light began to change, it grew in brightness making Layman shield his eyes. As the growing light escalated and then dimmed, Layman removed his hand from his face and looked at what was now present.

He was looking at an illuminated shade, a spirit that had some how transcended the bonds of the Void, which kept the dead with its expansive power. The shade shimmered again as Layman's eyes completely adjusted. What he saw was a pretty young woman. Layman felt that she did not seem to be one of the great heroes of the past.

"I see you," Layman said. "Are you dead?" He asked, believing he knew the answer already.

"I am no longer alive," the vision of the young woman confirmed. "My life was taken from me long ago, in years uncounted in their great measure. I come to you now through great penalty, but through great need."

Layman remained silent. He knew she would continue. The shade seeing that her audience was listening, continued: "My name in life was Delsha, and I was a princess of the Kingdom of Plantyr, in world far from this one. My world, like hundreds of others fell to the deception of Delaine the Deceiver, which is the Wizard Scourge that sits now in the House of the Sun of Star World. My world was not the first to fall in his plan, and I was murdered at his feet during his moments of triumph."

"But, he took from me more than my father, friends, kingdom, and life," she continued. "He stole from me something much more precious, which may still find a path to redemption."

"What did he take from you, princess?" Layman asked giving her the title she held in millennia past.

"The seed of my womb," she responded. "He took my unborn child, and kept my fertilized womb to grow when he deemed the time right. My womb he let grow and give birth to a child in this world, far from the planet where she was conceived. My child has grown now to become a young woman, but her soul teeters on the edge of redemption and damnation."

"Dai Jia is your daughter," Layman said. He did not have to ask if he was correct.

"Yes," Delsha responded heavily. "I preferred her first name Dellena, but Dai Jia fits her best now."

"What would you have me do?" Layman asked. He knew her need was great if she had escaped the clutches of the Void to deliver him this message.

"Something that may be beyond doing," she responded. "Bring her soul back to the light, that she may not be eternally destroyed and damned."

Layman sat in quiet reflection. The request was something that would be extremely difficult, especially now, as she was the one he would hunt. The shade of Delsha watched, and noted his silence. Layman's brow wrinkled in worry.

"My Lady," Layman began. "You know what has just transpired here?" He asked.

"Yes," was her response and then she fell into silence.

"I do not know if I can save her. I will track her to find L'terin, but after that it may be her destiny to die on my blade or someone else's," Layman finished.

The shade of Princess Delsha did not blink or get angry. This shade, though it looked like the naïve little girl that had fallen into Scourge's trap long uncounted years before, was not that little girl. Her face was stern and the reflection in her eyes was the knowing of things that Layman did not. It seemed to Layman that perhaps she shrugged.

"If she cannot be saved then she must fall under the punishment of the just," Delsha said. "Her crimes are more than you know. She has taken life and has now captured the one that may hold all hope for the Realms of Confusion. She must be stopped one way or the other. It will not be easy. I just ask that you try. Understand, also, young Wanderer of the Stars, that she too is a victim of Scourge's corruption."

"I understand, My Lady," Layman responded. "I will do what I can to save her soul, and if I am unsuccessful I will do what I can to end her evil ways."

"This is all that I ask," the shade said as it started to fade. "I wish to undo my part in this, though I know now I was blameless. The Wizard of Darkness is cunning and powerful. I do not know how to defeat him. But, I will help you. Hank your horse has been contained by me. You will find him not far from the entrance of Dagar Domin."

"Thank you, My Lady," Layman responded with relief. "I will do what I can."

Layman did not know if his last words to Princess Delsha were heard. As the Wanderer spoke there was a shimmer where her shade had been. As his words arched out the shimmering grew and then winked out. Layman was alone now, but burdened with great responsibilities and tasks to accomplish. He could wait no longer, he went out to find Hank.

Chapter 11: The Chief of Star World Rides Forth

Dark clouds adorned the sky overhead. They were regular storm clouds, but as they extended further over Star World they became unnatural. It appeared their source was in the northwest. It appeared their source was at the House of the Sun.

Layman rode and Hank kept a pace that was feverish. Sand was upturned with each extended hoof, beating a dusty cloud in their wake. He would make for Lansarn, though Layman knew he would have to stop periodically. He knew he might find some of the outlying villages before then, but he feared what he might find in them.

The trail of L'terin and her captors were cold. He witnessed no imprints in the sand in any direction. He did not dwell long on that, as he gave the sky a quick glimpse. He knew the stormbeasts that took her had other means of transportation. Besides, Layman knew where they were headed.

There seemed to be no day or night in this new lingering shadow. Layman rode on, not being able to correctly count the passing of time. The moments seemed like hours, the hours felt like days. Hank did not give up. It seemed that the horse knew Layman's need or the greater need that all that were dwellers of the Light had. Hank was the bolt of lightning underneath the cover of clouds.

Layman came to a small village. Its building and homesteads smoked in their ruin. Layman slowed and took Hank down the center street calling out to those that hid. Bodies were twisted and dead. They were left unburied.

Layman made to leave the town. Anger swelled in his breast, it seemed the village had been completely destroyed. He found some water and let Hank drank his fill. Turning, he led Hank to the town's edge and started again to the desert.

Layman stopped as soon as he exited the town. He heard noises behind and he turned and drew Heaven's Star. What he saw was not the enemy. Three ragged men looked back at him.

Layman recognized one of the men. He was one of the soldiers he had originally set out with and had gone with Gala to cause the diversion. The other two men were townspeople that had some how survived, they seemed to be the last among the living in their village.

All three were armed, the soldier with his sword and the other two with old swords that they had either picked up or were family heirlooms. They lowered their weapons as Layman came closer and Layman sheathed his weapon and dismounted Hank. Layman made his way over to the three. He noticed there was great relief in their faces.

"It is good to see you, Wanderer," the soldier said. "We thought you were one of those things returning to finish the job."

Layman nodded. There was no need to ask what had happened to the town because he knew well that the stormbeasts had destroyed it. There was another concern that came to Layman's mind, "Soldier, what is your name?" Layman asked.

"I am Zarith," he responded and outstretched his hand. Layman took his hand, and then the townspeople made quick introductions. Layman then pressed Zarith for news of what had befallen them and the status of Gala.

"I don't know where the Messenger is," Zarith said, his tiredness clearly visible upon his face. "We were waylaid in the desert as the enemy took the bait. Most of us were killed or scattered. Gala fought valiantly, and he may yet live, but he was forced north. He may have been able to make it back to Lansarn, but I have no way of knowing for sure. I lost my horse and walked here to find this village with its own troubles. I did what I could, but it was not enough," Zarith finished in sadness.

"You fought well," one of the two villagers said adamantly. "You risked your life to try to save my wife," the other said.

Zarith nodded his acknowledgement, but sadness ruled him.

"Are your families tended to?" Layman asked sympathetically.

The two men nodded quietly.

"Then if there are any horses to be had then prepare them to ride," Layman said. It was not a request for them to accompany him. "Every man available to bear arms will be needed, most importantly those that are veterans to fighting these fiends," Layman finished.

Zarith nodded his agreement with a chorus of "ayes," from the villagers. There was a change in the three men's eyes. They were needed again, and with that need there would be a chance at vengeance.

Layman looked up at the sky, "we sit on the Wizard's Eve of Darkness, we must make sure day returns."

It was then that Zarith finally noticed Layman was alone. "Where is L'terin?" the soldier asked.

Layman peered at the sky before answering. "She was taken by the enemy. I will ride to Lansarn and all the towns and villages in between to get those that are willing to take her back. Go now, the hour grows late and we must ride."

...

Layman rode across the desert. In the Wanderer's vanguard were nearly four hundred soldiers and farmers that rode with him towards Lansarn, which was now visible on the edge of the northern horizon. All those that rode in his train were armed and equipped for battle. All had engaged the stormbeasts in the past few days.

In the distance there was mounting activity. Lansarn was a buzz in movement. The town had been more fortified since Layman's departure. Layman smiled to himself in this time of uncertainty. The Hunter of Scourge knew that men had made their way here from many of the towns and villages to the west and north. Many of the villages Layman had passed through and gathered those that followed him had said many had already gone to Lansarn. Here Layman believed he would gain an army.

When Layman came closer to the city he saw that there were lines of soldiers arrayed against him. Layman gave the call for his band to stop and hold. Layman dismounted Hank and made his way to the protectors of Lansarn. His demeanor showed that he was no threat, and as he came closer some of the soldiers among the lines recognized him.

There were calls to stand down and to let him through. Layman found a captain that was in charge of the outlying force and quickly gained passage for he and his men. Layman went back to Hank, mounted him and rode forward to the city. They were gladly welcomed.

Layman rode under the gate into the city. Soldiers were everywhere. Many were Tevinite Guards, others were townspeople that had been hastily equipped. Layman had been followed by a few of his newfound men. He looked anxiously for hope. Hope it seemed found him.

Aroused from the noise from outside Lansarn, Gala was emerging from his barracks. The Messenger's eyes met Layman's. Layman rode Hank over to Gala.

Gala's face was grim, "Hail Wanderer, how fared you at Dagar Domin?"

"The tide of evil has grown long and far," Layman replied dismounting from Hank. "We have much to discuss, Messenger," Layman said coming towards Gala.

Gala nodded. His eyes were sunken with stress from the absence of L'terin at Layman's side.

"Come inside," Gala said moving back to the barracks and held open the door. Layman entered and saw that they were alone. The Wanderer moved further in and then took a seat at a long table. Gala followed him, closing the door behind him. He moved to a seat opposite of Layman. The old man looked long at the table before peering up at Layman.

Gala's voice was steady, but the traces of his fear were littered in it, "The Emissary fell at Dagar Domin?"

"No," Layman responded. "She was successful in her mission, then she was taken."

"Taken?" Gala asked. "By whom?"

"By Dai Jia and the servants of the enemy," Layman said.

Gala's eyes became thunderclouds. His mouth quivered in anger. The old man's hand went up and then struck the table hard. He stood up and walked away to pace back and forth to think.

"Dai Jia," Gala growled. "And what servants aided her?"

"Stormbeasts," responded Layman.

Layman then told Gala of all their experiences within Dagar Domin. The old man continued to pace, but listened intently to every word said. It was not until Layman spoke about the chamber and the flag that was held in it did Gala falter his step. The Messenger turned and looked hard at Layman.

"I searched every open chamber of Dagar Domin," Gala started. "But, I did not find a treasure room as such that you speak. How did you stumble across such a chamber? You said L'terin directed you to it?"

"Yes," Layman replied, his thoughts were swirling.

"Perhaps, with her new powers and by holding the Sphere of Light she was able to reveal a door which was hidden," Gala said. "I need to see this flag of yours."

Layman removed his pack and opened it. It was stuffed with many items from his long journeys. It only took him a few seconds to locate it and remove it from his bag. He unfolded it and lay it across the table where they were sitting.

Gala moved over from his halted pacing to come stand at Layman's side. Gala stood there breathing heavy. He looked up and stared into Layman's eyes.

"You know what this is?" Gala asked.

"Not sure," Layman replied and scratched the side of his face.

"It is prophecy," Gala said in wonderment. The Messenger moved down to one knee and then peered reverently upward to Layman.

"Hail! Chief of the Stars! May his life be long and his sword sting the enemy!" Gala bellowed. With that said, Gala, the Messenger of the Tevinites drew his sword and became the first to swear fealty to Layman Salidan.

Chapter 12: The Battle Plain of Gorlarith

"The Veil has been torn!" Screamed a distraught Jag De Lue into the horrid din.

The chaos of sword strokes and the destruction of flesh were all around him. Tevinite Guards, outnumbered, fought against demons from both the living world and the worlds beyond. Stormbeasts came down from lightning bolts to join the swelling ranks of goblins and trolls, along with misshapen monsters resurrected from the Void. Jag and his forces could not hold against the onslaught and he gave the signal for an organized retreat.

"To the dune hills!" Jag called over and over. "To the hills for protection!"

Jag did not know how long the distant hills could provide cover for his men, but he knew they would last there longer against the ghastly army raised by the minion that held the House of the Sun. This was the battle of his Age, the battle that would define Star World or all the worlds that still remained in the sway of Tevindal for that matter, he figured. For he knew now that the prophecies were truly coming to pass. The dead had risen; the Emissary and Chief had supposedly been revealed, but what of the outcome? Ancient words from Holy Texts did not win battles, especially those where your troops were greatly outnumbered.

Men fell all about him. Their bodies littering the desert, while their blood was sucked away by the hot sand. A goblin came before him, holding cruelly shaped steel. Jag struck once, then twice against the goblin's sword before his third stroke crunched against the foul thing's ribcage. The dead thing fell away, quickly replaced by another of its kind.

It took only two strokes to dispatch this goblin, but more beasts were pushing their way forward to challenge the leader of the Tevinites' ragged army. Jag made to raise his voice again to his men, but the booming of horns drowned him out. The horns were sickly and terrible, like flesh melting from bone. They echoed across the plain and the Tevinites became panicked, falling into their fear.

Many of the Tevinite Guards broke ranks from the orderly retreat, making those that stayed in their positions easy prey. Estalgend's army gained confidence and the strikes from their blades more fierce. Snarls and curses from demonic languages were thick in the stagnant air. Jag turned away a blow and delivered a killing strike to a stormbeast that barred his passage to one of his captains.

The dune hills were closer now, rising higher into view. To the army's right a new battalion of evil showed its face. This new source of terror was beyond the others revealed thus far. The creatures were man sized and armed, but were the semblance of insects.

Tevinite warriors that had kept their bravery to this point lost control. The chattering and buzzing of these creatures and the waving of antennae drove veteran warriors into madness. Many were hewn down without bringing weapons to bear to defend themselves. Jag's own heart froze at this, but he overcame it and urged the others onward.

The dune hills were upon them now and they entered their protection. Jag quickly had the soldiers turn and prepare for battle. The hordes of Estalgend rushed on, coming to the entrance of the dune hills. The enemy was relentless coming forth, not slowing or reorganizing their lines.

The insect creatures and hordes of goblins and trolls forced themselves into a bottleneck where the Tevinites cut them down. The bodies piled up, while very few Tevinites fell. The Tevinites that stood at the forefront let their rage flow and the slaughter run free. Soon, the massive armies of the Usurper of Worlds fell back to regroup.

Jag drew in a deep breath as the cheers went up around him. The Tevinites were celebrating their victory while Jag stayed silent looking out to their doom. The soldiers did not see yet what he saw. They were trapped. There was only one way in and out of the dune hills, and pass the bottleneck there was a high hill, where an enemy could sweep down on an emerging foe.

Jag knew they would only be able to hold the position for a few days. They had maybe three days total of rations. After three days their strength would begin to fail and they would be forced to charge. The enemy would have a force waiting before them, and then would sweep down from the high eastern hill and destroy them.

In his gloom, Jag noticed the cheers dying down. The obvious must be coming into the minds of the others now, their doom revealed. In only a few minutes the silence spread its contagion. The small remnant of Tevinite soldiers looked out to the massive force, which would bring in more reinforcements before they were forced to charge. Jag let his head fall low. He knew no help would come for them.

...

The third day within the confines of the trap of the dune hills began its movement towards dawn. Jag made an inventory of supplies. All were gone, there would be no tomorrow. The charge would be today.

Jag made his slow rounds to the men. Most he knew personally and he said encouraging words about their courage. Others, whom Jag knew had no family left he urged them to their revenge. All knew that the rising of the morning sun would be their last.

As twilight faded Jag called a movement to arms. The sound of steel resonated throughout the hills pouring out into the desert plains beyond. The enemy stirred and cries of their eminent victory rose up. The men tried to keep their courage and bellowed out their own war cry; it was not as effective as that of the vast horde beyond.

Jag De Lue came to the forefront of the army. He would lead them forth, and most likely be rewarded by dying quickly. He stood before the Tevinites that were in line for battle behind him. Fear shown in his soldiers' eyes, but their steel stood bright and unwavering. In the face of certain death, in the face of his world crumbling, Jag smiled.

"Tevinites!" Jag De Lue roared, "Today we give fight to the enemy of Tevindal. Wield all the might that you have, for there will be no use of it tomorrow!"

Swords were raised to the dawning sun as one. The cry of the Tevinites was overbearing and as they came forth from the dune hills their foes mocked them no longer. Men sped forth, their bright blades held before them. The horde of the enemy wavered as the charging army sped into them.

Then there was carnage and heaps of piles of the dead and dying. Madness prevailed in the din of battle and the shouts and sword slaying caused confusion on both sides. Beasts fell, be they goblins or humanoid insects, but they were always replaced by another.

Overhead the sun was starting to break over the horizon. The daystar gave its light to glinting steel and the weapons of the Tevinites appeared as heavenly flames. The firebrands of Tevindal struck with fierce fire, but the Tevinite ranks were dwindling. Jag had led them deep into the enemy host, carving a bloody path. But, the Tevinite soldiers were too few, and their incision into the host of Estalgend seamed to appear as their undoing as foul creations cut them off and surrounded them at all sides.

Then for a time did swordplay cease in its dance. Jag and his followers looked out at the foes about them and knew there was no hope. Then did an insectoid come forth and it was taller than the rest and wore its tentacles as if it were a crown of power.

The insectoid was the shape of a centipede and its feelers and antennae moved with feverish speed. A horrid sound began to escape its open maw. It caused many of the Tevinites to vomit it was so vile. Its words were hard to understand, but its message was clear.

"More on the way," the creature said. "More on the way," it laughed like a screeching buzzard. "Lay down weapons, become slaves and live!" its laughter was unbearable.

As if in answer there was a blowing of a horn on top of the eastern dune. The horde of the enemy chattered in its excitement. The insectoid laughed on. The Tevinites knew their failure was complete.

Jag de Lue looked back to the rising dune. The sun was breaking over the crest of the sand of Golarith. His heart was filled with dismay and already he could see the lines of battle being arrayed on its heights. Others of the Tevinites looked as well, their weapons already beginning to waver and lower.

The horn blared again. This time it was answered by others as a rousing chorus greeted the coming day. The morning sun extended itself and raised its covering gleam. A banner blew wildly in the morning breeze.

"The Banner of Stars," a soldier next to Jag whispered in disbelief. "The banner of the Chief of Stars."

Murmuring exploded from the entrapped force. Some pointed to the banner. Others looked to each other. Jag shielded his eyes and peered on.

...

Horns sounded their call to battle all around Layman Salidan. He sat upon Hank on a ridge of a high dune. Far below him was the entrapped army of Tevinites that had been set upon by the masses of Scourge's army.

The soldiers behind him that prepared their battle lines had already seen conflict. They had been set upon by a host of Scourge's forces in the open desert at dusk the previous evening and had been successful. Now, all that stood in their way to riding to the gates of the House of the Sun was the host below them.

Layman turned, he looked at Gala at his side, who nodded. Layman looked at the men that had followed him, and then looked back to those surrounded below. He drew Heaven's Star and held the starsword over his head. Its blue fire flared in the morning light.

"For the World of Stars! For the honor of those that gave their lives against the darkness! For the Ancients in their grace! For the Banner of Tevindal! Tevinites charge!"

The gleam of Heaven's Star descended and pointed downwards as Layman led Hank over the edge. The lines of Tevinites behind him followed with their steel bright in the morning light. Layman held Hank tight with his knees as he drew his gun at his side. Six times his gun thundered, horns answered it.

In the valley below Jag de Lue wasted no time. He gathered what remained of his host and threw its might against the ring of defenders around them. The Tevinites tore into the insectoids and goblins that still peered up at the coming doom above them.

Arrows came now down into the valley from volleys from archers that had revealed themselves on the dune hill. Steel and hooves collided with the beleaguered host as they were trampled and cut down by the arrival of Layman and his forces. Swords rose and fell while the desert floor thirstily sucked up green and black blood. Carnage ruled the morning.

The host of Scourge turned now. They looked towards the end of the dune hills and fled towards the open desert. As they fled closer to the place that would spew them out of the high hills they came face to face with more opposition. Hidden archers emerged at the opening and rained death to those that fled, decimating them.

Layman was deep in the ranks of the enemy now on the desert floor. Heaven's Star flashed blue flame again and again felling the foul beasts that had spilled forth from the torn Veil of Darkness. Goblins and trolls Layman slew without mercy. The Wanderer of Worlds, the newly crowned Chief of Star World, then came to battle with the captain of Scourge's forces.

The centipede insectoid stood in the middle of the carnage with dead Tevinites littered about it. Its pincers were deep in the skull of a man it had just wounded and it sucked out the man's brains before he died. With blood and brain matter splattered on its face it looked at Layman with what could only be seen as a smile.

Madness drove Layman at the sight, and he slew creatures about him to carve a path to the insectoid. It watched him come and drew many strange shaped daggers, wielding dozens. The curved blades danced in the creature's tentacles making flashes of dark metal. It screeched laughter and spoke as Layman came on.

"Does it think it can destroy Crechtion? Its foolish, foolish!" the Captain of Scourge screamed. Crechtion threw one of its dark blade daggers. It whistled through the air and struck Hank. Hank went down taking Layman with him. Layman rolled away to avoid being crushed by his wounded friend.

Layman, coming up on one knee, leveled his pistol and fired. It clicked, indicating he needed to reload. There was no time, he dropped the gun, losing it to the chaos around him and brought up his blade. The fire of Heaven's Star rippled and burned.

Layman stood holding the sword before him. Crechtion slithered towards him on some of its back legs. Crechtion hissed and squealed in delight as it came closer. The small blades began to flicker faster in the grasp of its tentacles.

"Yes, yes young warrior I will cut you to pieces," Crechtion hissed. "Then raw I will feast on your mutilated flesh!" Crechtion roared a battle cry and came on.

Layman fell back several steps at the ferocity of the onslaught. Crechtion's speed was incredible. Dark daggers seemed to flicker everywhere at once. Layman soon had many small open wounds dripping blood.

Layman brought the strength of the starsword forth for a strike. The blade's flame flared as it descended leaving a trail of fiery light. Crechtion blocked the stroke. Its daggers had come quickly together forming almost the semblance of a sword.

"Slow, slow, much too slow," came Crechtion's taunting retort. "You must do better to defeat Crechtion."

The creature's blades flickered away from their defensive posture and became swirls of darkness once more. Layman fell back. The creature was swift and terrible. Crechtion came on, his antennae twitching in horrid delight. Dark steel flashed, it was unearthly, possibly forged in some great furnace in the outer darkness.

Heaven's Star let looses its fury again, and again to keep Scourge's captain at bay. The power of the sword alone appeared not to be enough. Crechtion was superior to Layman in the skills of battle. Layman's strokes were repelled again.

Layman was backed up to the side of the eastern dune hill. He had no more room to retreat away from Crechtion's fury. Layman held his ancestral sword before him. He would not die a coward, nor beg for mercy.

A low grumble of delight purred from Crechtion's salivating maw. Darkness twirled again as the blades spun. They were like lights being sucked down into the wastes of the black holes formed by the evil blade, Torok. "Death is here for you, fool," Crechtion said. He came on to deal Layman's death.

Layman struck out Heaven's Star to no avail and awaited the piercing fire of the spinning steel to cut him to ribbons. It did not come, rather Crechtion roared in pain and angered surprise. Black and greenish gore bubbled down Crechtion's front as it escaped a now open wound. Dinted and flecked steel emerged from the gaping opening and Crechtion peered down at it in wonderment.

Layman did not waste his chance, for some of the tentacles of the beast still moved and struck wildly with sharp steel. Heaven's Star roared to life, a blue fire that moved forth like a meteor across the sky. The fire singed and crackled as it separated Crechtion's foul head from its insect body. The head bounced and rolled out of sight in the sandy battle that still raged all about.

Layman looked over the headless body of his still standing foe. Crechtion's tentacles had dropped the multitude of blades it had wielded. The body itself was only propped up by the blade, which still impaled it. The sword withdrew and the lifeless form crumbled to the dust. Jag de Lue smiled brightly at Layman. Then did Jag and Layman meet on the Battle Plain of Golarith, and their meeting was a joyous one.

"Chief of the Stars, I dare say," said Jag laughing despite the carnage of death all around them. The old man briefly glanced to the battle and saw that the remaining foes were being routed or dispersed into the desert in several directions.

"Your actions have won the day for us," Jag continued and offered his hand to Layman.

Layman took Jag's hand and shook it in gratitude and friendship but said, "The day is not yet won, my friend. But, this is a victory and we must move quickly to ensure this victory saves us from the ultimate defeat."

"What evil do you speak of?" Jag asked.

Layman knew there was no time to go into details or to give the news lightly to Jag, "Estalgend, the Wizard Scourge, has L'terin and the Sphere of Light," Layman said.

Jag gasped and dropped Layman's hand. The old man put his hand to his own mouth in heartbroken horror.

"How?" Jag asked almost inaudibly.

"We were betrayed by Dai Jia," Layman said. Jag swore, and he uttered an oath of vengeance.

"No," Layman said. "You must not bring harm to your adopted daughter no matter what course of actions she has taken. It would cost you your soul. I will begin gathering what men I can and will assault the House of the Sun as soon I am prepared. You must stay here and help the wounded and make preparation in the chance that I fail to defeat Scourge."

Anger and grief wracked Jag de Lue's face. But, the older man nodded his compliance through his streaming tears. He looked around again to the carnage. The enemy was gone, but left behind was many men that needed attending to, one way or the other.

"Good," Layman said. The Wanderer of Worlds, the newly heralded Chief of Stars went now to find his loyal friend. He found Hank not to far away. Hank was standing and seemed to be fine. There was a bloody wound across his side, but it was not mortal. It would prevent the horse from riding anytime soon.

Layman took Hank's head in his hand and looked into the beast's eyes, "I think this could be goodbye my old friend," Layman started. "We have been through so much together, but I think this was your last battle. I have a mission to accomplish, but don't know if I'll ever return. You have a long life of peace ahead of you without me. You will always be my best friend. Fare well!"

Layman kissed Hank on the head and the horse whinnied. Hank responded by giving Layman a huge wet slurp of his tongue. Jag had walked up to the scene and laughed, despite the aroma of death all about them.

"I will take good care of your horse until you return," Jag said.

"And if I don't return?" Layman asked.

"Well, if that should be the case I will make him the favorite of my own horses," responded Jag.

"Thank you," Layman said heavily. "Thank you for everything."

Jag smiled sadly and nodded, "save my daughters if you can."

"I will do what I can, but am I not sure if saving both of them means returning both of them to you alive," Layman said cautiously.

Jag understood the meaning of Layman's words, "if Dai Jia cannot be saved from death, please do what you can to redeem her soul."

"That is the second time I have had that request," Layman responded, and briefly told Jag about the interchange with the spirit of Princess Delsha of Plantyr.

"It is as I had feared," said Jag exhaling a jagged breath. "Fare thee well, Chief of the Stars!" and Jag saluted as a Talidon of old.

"Fare thee well, Priest of the Tevinites, may we meet again in happier circumstances," Layman said returning the salute.

Chapter 13: At the House of the Sun

Layman had quickly rallied those that were not too greatly injured to prepare themselves to ride in open assault on the House of the Sun. They rode off within an hour after the fight on the Golarith. Hooves thundered now across the open desert. None knew what awaited them.

Gala rode at Layman's side. The grizzled Messenger had been wounded, but had strength left in him. Layman believed the man's wound to be fatal, but did not try to stop him coming. If Gala was going to die, then let him do so in combat.

The ride would not be long. The House of the Sun rested in a defensible inlet of the Mountains of the Sun. Layman had a fresh horse, but missed his friend Hank. He knew Hank would be safe with Jag. Gala too had a fresh horse, and the two rode side-by-side leading the army to battle and open war.

Already the Mountains of the Sun were getting larger. Their distinct features were becoming more visible. They were gray, rocky monoliths raising their jagged fingers to the sky. They were towers of foreboding and mystery. What rested behind their secret no one really knew.

"There," Gala shouted to Layman. The old man's voice was ragged and hard of breath.

Layman looked and he saw now the outlying shadows of the ancient keep of Star World. Its towers and parapets were carved and harnessed from the same rock of the mountains around it. As if reading Layman's mind Gala said, "It was a small mountain once. It was there away from the rest of the Mountains of the Sun. The people of this world mined it and shaped it, and made a citadel from which to rule."

"Let's hope we can force our way in then," Layman said. "From those towers they should be able to see us by now. Scourge will be scurrying his forces for defense."

Their ride was bringing them closer into visual contact. The mountains' height was growing with each passing moment. Their presence began to help block out some of the blinding light of the sun.

"There," Layman pointed. Gala looked to where Layman intended. "Their forces are gathering before what must be the gate," the Chief of Stars continued. "They are not yet at a great strength. They were unprepared, they thought we would be swept away by now!" Layman exclaimed and laughed into the wind.

"Tevinites," Layman bellowed his voice behind him rising in his saddle. "Wave your banners high and sound your trumpets! We ride to war for Tevindal!"

With his words a wind swept up from the desert blowing towards to the fortress of the enemy. Horns and trumpets blared behind Layman and Gala and the banner of the Chief of Stars and the banners of the Tevinite tribes were let loose. The wind carried the sound with it and brought it to the House of the Sun. The rocky walls trembled and shook.

They were close now and could clearly see the forming lines of their foes. Layman drew his starsword and the release of steel rang out from behind him. The wind blew harder now and a gust of sand blew up before the Tevinite army and blew hard against the waiting fortress of the House of the Sun.

The sand was thick and heavy and the creatures of the enemy hid their faces from its torment. The gate that was being raised behind them faltered. Sand had been thickly encrusted into its gears. On the wind there was a fair voice, which only Layman heard.

"You carry the hope of many, Wandering Chief of the Ancient Stars," spoke a feminine voice. Layman looked about and thought he espied the shade of Princess Delsha floating beside his charging horse. "I have paid a great price to interfere, but justice for my world and those that have also have fallen must come."

There was another gust of wind and a blast of sand and many of the first lines of the enemy fell to the desert.

"The princess is not alone, I aid my strength to hers," said a voice that made tears well up in Layman's eyes. It was the voice of his lost Johanna. "Ride now my love, you must thwart him from his ultimate goal."

Tears fell freely from Layman's eyes now, "I am sorry," he whispered. The voice of Johanna held no animosity or malice, "Cry not, my love. Your love for her does not hurt me, nor does it erase the love we shared. It is right for you to love her, it was what was meant to be, written long ago on the tide of destiny," the shade of Johanna said as she fade away.

"Dear Wanderer," the shade of Princess Delsha spoke as she too began to fade. "Forget not my daughter, save her soul if you can," then she too was gone caught by her own woven wind and she blew away to currents unseen.

They were upon the enemy now. Many of the defenders of the fortress still lay on the sand where they had been strewn by the wind. The horses trampled them to their deaths. Horns of the Tevinites blew again as they rode on and the walls of the House of the Sun shook in fear.

"To the gate!" Layman roared to his men.

The charging horses met resistance now. The arrayed lines in the back had not been thrown down. Steel rang on steel echoing up to the heights of the towers above. Layman did not waste time getting entangled in the combat. He let loose swift strokes to those that challenged him and used the speed of his mount to carry him past his foes.

Gala and a large contingent of soldiers stayed with Layman. They hewed a path to the gateway that was close now at hand. There was a loud lurching creaking sound that resonated over the din of battle. To Layman's horror he saw the gate start to slowly to descend to close.

The Chief of Stars turned to his soldiers, "Stop now for nothing," he began. "Trample over all that comes your way. We must obtain entrance and find Scourge or all will be lost. Stop only if you are one among the fallen."

He turned and charged. Layman kept his head down and let his horse do the work for him. The horse stuttered its speed several times as it trampled foes that tried to stand up to its charge. Layman hoped beyond hope that they would make it. He knew the horse suffered from many wounds.

The sound of the horse's hooves changed. It went from solid thuds to the clatter of being on wood and metal. The Wanderer looked up brandishing his sword. He saw a great troll captain that manned the gate present itself before his charge. Layman used his left hand to tug the reins left to swerve around the beast. As he went by the troll his starsword flashed bright light and smote the troll to its ruin.

Layman pulled up his reins and looked about him. He was inside the gateway of the House of the Sun. Only about half of those that had followed him had made it, and he saw that their horses were slick with the blood of their wounds. There was a loud booming thud behind them as the gateway clasped closed.

"For Tevindal!" Layman screamed as a few goblins, stormbeasts, and insectoids that had operated the gate came forth in battle. The strokes of the Tevinites that had entered the fortress were mighty and relentless. Those few foul beasts of Devindal, which had stood against them, were soon sundered to the Void forever.

With the gatekeepers slain, Layman dismounted his horse. The mare that had brought him across the desert in its desperate charge was visibly mortally wounded. Layman helped guide the horse to a laying position and it succumbed to its wounds. Turning, Layman noticed the rest of his riders dismounting, with their horses too finally giving up their spirits.

Gala came up to Layman's side, "those poor horses should have never made it this far. It was as if a spell had been cast on them to make the charge."

"Perhaps there was," Layman said thinking of the shades of Delsha and Johanna. "But, we have no time now to dwell on it. We must find L'terin and the Sphere of Light. And Dai Jia too, if we can," Layman added.

Gala nodded, "then let us go."

Layman turned and counted how many had made it. The number was only seventeen. It would have to be enough. Hopefully, no other creatures knew they were now within the fortress. The sand had drifted high and maybe shielded the sights of those on the terraces and parapets of the citadel.

Looking at Gala, Layman saw that the man was in worse shape than he had been when they had set out. There were more wounds on him and he was loosing blood. His face was pale and haggard. It mattered not, Layman conceded. He would do his duty to the end, and that would come soon enough.

"Then let us go," Layman echoed. And the last hope for Star World proceeded onward.

...

They had been harried throughout their mission to locate L'terin and her keeper. Of the seventeen warriors that accompanied Layman into the House of the Sun, seven were slain. Layman had then split the group into two groups of five warriors. Layman went with the group that had Gala.

Gala needed support now as they ascended a stairway that led to one of the upper parapets of the fortress. The din of battle still rang and raged far below. The cries of the dying and wounded were like the waling of worlds.

They reached the high parapet, and it gave away to the changing day about them. High in the heavens was the sun. It was besieged by storm clouds that had been called by the devilish wizardry of the ruler of the citadel. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed violently, their time was growing short.

They moved out onto the terrace, their footfalls echoing eerily. All was silent up here now, even the sounds of the storm above and the battle below were muted. Layman's men became tense and they looked about them wildly. The doors and windows of the stone arches of the castle seemed to be shadowed with unearthly powers.

Gala looked to Layman and there was uncertainty in his eyes. They all felt an evil presence approaching. Then sound returned, and at the far end of the precipice stood a gaping passage, and it was clear something with a shadow deeper than the unnatural darkness was approaching. Layman tried to push his way to the forefront of his men, but Gala pushed him back with unreserved strength and made his way forward.

All became still as Gala went forth and stood before the shadowed darkness. His slender blade was held before him, but his courage fought back the shadow from tainting the brightness of his weapon. The shadow spread forth now to the open stone, as if it were creeping forth to conquer the light. All moved back from the dismal corruption, save Gala, he held his ground and the shadow fell about him.

"Come! Oh foul darkness, come and reap the taste of bright steel!" Gala roared out to the unseen keeper of darkness. "I do not fear you," Gala declared. "And I shall wound you deeply before I fall," the last of what he said was barely audible, but it was full of truthful malice that the shadow was stayed for a moment.

The moment passed, and the power that had consumed Gala as he came forth seemed to falter. But, the aged and dying man stood there courageously regardless of the imminent outcome. The shadow continued to grow across the terrace and to Layman's horror he moved further away from his brave friend to stay away from the grasp of the seething darkness.

Gala did not seem to notice. This was his moment where he chose the finalization of his life and he would do it combating the greatest evil, and most vile deed of the Wizard Scourge. Gala took a step forward and the shadow fell all about him. But, through strangeness his sword beamed the brighter.

There was a horrid stink that was emitted forth now. It was like a belch of black vapors marinated in death and decay. Laughter accompanied the fumes and it was as terrible of the foul stench of servant of Devindal's breath.

"So, Messenger, it is only you that will stand against me?" A strangled hissing and high-pitched voice screeched out. "How fitting. I will use you to send a message to the other cowards before I consume them."

Booming thunder now rolled out from the darkness. It was not like that which was unleashed by the wizard's darkness above. It was a heavy sound of a massive body coming forth, and fear and stink came with it. Its booming grew louder with each step, like the rolling of drums. As it came to the edge of vision, those warriors that had joined ranks with Gala and Layman fell into madness. Some fled to the staircase that was behind, others toppled themselves over the wall to plunge to their deaths.

Gala was stone in his resolve. Layman stood petrified in his fear. The Wanderer tried to overcome the spell, which had befallen him, but he seemed unsuccessful. He did his best to tighten his grip on the hilt of his starsword, for it seemed to be slipping from his grasp.

Then the beast in the shadow of darkness revealed itself. It was every bit as terrible as the fumes and fear it brought with it. It was bestial, like a scaled dragon. It walked on four massive legs and at its feet were great claws. It was scaled and green like the color of slime. Its body was long, like that of a desert lizard, but its head defied sanity.

Layman cried out in fear and horror, letting Heaven's Star slip from his grasp. The monster turned its piercing hourglass-shaped eyes at Layman and hissed with a forked tongue in recognition. Layman could not escape those eyes and inside him he felt something break as a memory came back to him. The memory was of a vision he had sitting amongst the wagons of Jag de Lue.

"Dai Jia," Layman whispered in disbelief.

The serpent head swung back and forth, the features of her face clearly visible beneath the scales and slime. Her hair hung down from her monstrous head, and it curled in living motions. Her hair was brown like decay, but it was thick like rope, and upon its ends were living snakeheads. The snakeheads hissed and Dai Jia let loose terrible laughter.

"Looking for my sister?" Dai Jia asked with malice as the snakes hissed in echo. "My father has taken her away. He has business with her that concerns his master," the thing that was Dai Jia smiled and it was slithery and serpentine.

"Now," she continued. "Since you seemed to be taken care of at the moment you can watch this grisly old fool die!"

The beast, which was Dai Jia, turned its attention to Gala who stood with his blade up in defiance. The monster lumbered further away from its den and came to a spot to which it could peer down at the dying old man. The shadow of the beast almost blacked out the view Layman had of the Messenger, but the light of his steel shone on.

"Your time is up, puny fool," Dai Jia said spitting green filth. "Long have I wished to crush you as you gave me disapproving glances."

"Looks that you have no doubt earned, oh wicked step-daughter of my truest friend," Gala declared. His voice was strong and mighty, as if he cast his own spell against the darkness. He ignored the devil's saliva that covered him and the stink of devilry about him.

Then did they stand quiet amidst chaos of war that raged far below. And their wills strove against each other, fighting for domination rather through strength of arms. The serpentine eyes of Dai Jia flared in fury as the injured man before her strove at her with great power. As they stood a white light consumed Gala and cast its brightness towards the transformed monster before him.

Then Dai Jia fell back wounded. Her massive form stumbled, causing the bricks and mortar to shake and crumble. Her head was bent high and a dragon's roar escaped from her monstrous maw. Her eyes became like fire and they looked down at the Messenger before her in fear.

"What matter of being are you, Messenger?" the monster Dai Jia asked through her restrained fear. "What spells of Tevindal do you weave?" the lizard's eyes flared.

Gala took a step towards the wounded beast. His sword now had a visible white flame that danced down to its hilt. His eyes were of steadfast determination, though his body sagged in injury and pain, "I wield only the spell of faith," he declared. "I will wield it till I fall, which will be very soon. But, I will not relent to the shadow, nor to the beast of abomination!"

Then Gala came forth. He was of a speed undetermined by his looks. His sword was now a holy firebrand of Tevindal, who was banished to some unknown edge of creation. The blade struck out as the monster Dai Jia recoiled and reeled. The holy fire burned and singed as it struck the scales and flesh. Dai Jia bellowed pain.

The cobblestones of the parapet became slick with black blood that hissed and sizzled. Gala stood bold against the storm of evil's tide. He took many wounds from the razor claws of the lizard-beast, and soon his flesh was cut and torn like ribbons. But, still his mighty sword flashed and rent hurt upon the fallen daughter of Jag de Lue, until the life force within Gala grew dim.

And Gala fell. The Messenger took to his knees before the mighty monster. The man looked up, calmly waiting for the blow that would spell his violent doom, but it did not come. Rather, there was a flash and a bellow of pain. Then with the roar of the wind the monster was dispersed, and all that remained was an injured and naked young woman lying on the slick stones in pain.

With the power of the beast diminished, Gala smiled and grasped onto his sword. With his weapon in hand he lowered his body down onto the stone floor. Layman heard a whispering escape from Gala's lips, and knew it for a prayer to the Lord of Light. Then the voice spoke no more, and Layman knew that Gala had died after his valiant victory.

Layman forsook the thought of his fallen friend and brandished Heaven's Star as he moved closer to where Dai Jia had fallen. The wounded woman stirred and she turned her head and looked to Layman who was advancing with bared star-steel. The evil and menace that had filled her beast form was gone, what was left was the hurt of a young girl. As their eyes connected, tears began to stain her cheeks.

"Help me," her voice whimpered. "Help me," she pleaded again and her body was wracked by sorrow and pain.

Layman looked upon the girl with both anger and pity in his heart. So much damage she had caused. The followers of Tevindal she had slain, and she had betrayed and captured L'terin. But what choice did this girl have? She had been born in evil circumstance, as much a victim of all those that had been deceived by the Wizard of Darkness.

Layman remembered the shade of Princess Delsha. He had made the deceased woman a promise. She was a woman that had forsaken her soul to aid in this bloody conflict. Layman would not forsake her sacrifice.

The Wanderer, the Chief of Stars, sheathed his blade, letting Heaven's Star's fire dim. He came now to the young woman before him, though she shied away.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed. "What have I done?" her eyes were wild. "I could not help it," she said turning her eyes to Layman, pleading her innocence. "He made me," she said as fresh tears came pouring down.

She stood now and backed away from Layman's approach. She cared nothing for her nakedness, though she was no sight to look at with her grievous wounds. She walked backwards, little step by little step. Her back hit a stone-wall, which was the edge of the lookout tower, five hundred feet below there was war.

"Dai Jia your sins are terrible indeed," said Layman calmly. "But, they were not all of your doing. You are the offspring of Scourge, that much you know by now. But, your mother was a princess of an ancient world. The evil wizard tricked her and he took her to wife to seed her. He slew her and crushed her world, then he stole her womb."

Layman was moving closer now to the girl. He stretched out his hand to her as he moved closer. He made his being show that he intended no ill towards her.

"He did this to you," Layman continued. "You were part of his evil plan that had stretched across countless worlds and centuries. You can be forgiven and brought to the light. Your soul does not have to eternally wade in darkness."

"How?" she wailed. "How can I be forgiven for my deeds? You know but of a fraction of the horrors I have committed. There is nothing I can do for such atonement," she concluded.

"Yes," Layman conceded. "Many of your evil works cannot be undone, but the gravest ill can be set straight," he said.

"And what is that?" her voice was becoming more shrill and wild.

"You must tell me where I can find L'terin and the item that she carried," he said.

"L'terin?" Dai Jia asked in confusion. "What I did to her was not my greatest sin. I did not even kill her."

"No, but you delivered her into the hands of Scourge. And she and the item she brought forth from Dagar Domin are the prizes Scourge has sought from the beginning," Layman countered.

"I did not know she was that important," Dai Jia said in confusion.

"It matters not," said Layman forcibly. "Where is she? Time grows late."

Then did Dai Jia look at Layman with eyes that no longer shed tears. Her hair was caught in the wind and blew like a banner. She turned and looked over the precipice behind her and shuddered. Turning back to Layman she said, "If I tell you where they are headed will my sins be forgiven?"

Layman looked at her sadly, "I do not have the power to absolve sins, but it would overshadow your horrible deeds if the information led to the victory of the Light."

Dai Jia nodded, "Then let my soul be saved by my aid to you," she declared to the heavens. "He has taken her hostage, with the item she carried to the shores beyond the mountains. There is a secret sky-path that leads from the tallest tower to the Mountains of the Sun. I have heard him speak that there is a winding path that makes it way through the mountain peaks. It should not be hard to follow him. But, give haste, I do not know his plans or intent."

"Thank you, Dai Jia," Layman said. But, he was cut off before he could say more.

"Give me not your thanks, for I deserve none," she said with resolve in her eyes. "I pray my words are enough to overcome my wretchedness. It matters not, but hear now that I forsake Devindal and all his works. Please, Wanderer, hold me no more in ill thought as you have since the beginning," she finished.

"No longer will I ever hold you in ill thought," Layman said to her.

She nodded a single nod. "Then fare thee well, oh Wanderer of the Stars. May you find success in your mission and thwart the dark wizard."

And before Layman could say another word she hopped up on the stone of the tower and flung herself from the fortress. Layman roared a wordless cry as he ran to the edge. He saw her descent, her arms spread out before her as if she wished to embrace the death that was coming rapidly to her. Then she was gone.

Layman shed no tears for her, for her deeds were truly evil. But, in his heart he felt pain. He said to the air, "Princess Delsha your daughter comes home. Her soul has been saved." Then Layman ran to a stair that was in the tunnel from which Dai Jia had emerged and went to the tallest tower, and from the height he came down to the shore of the Sea of Stars.

Thus, Ends Part Two of the Forlyne, the Third Cycle of Light

Part 1: Darkness and the Seeing Sage

Darkness. It was all consuming, like a spreading ink blot on a page of parchment. It swelled, the sea made night appear as day. It was drifting, it was shifting, but it was all there was. Darkness.

"Where am I?"

Silence.

"Is anyone there?"

Silence. A melody of a memory, dipped with forgotten heartbreak. A song of ice in the deepest trepidation of the soul, lost and swallowed by the precipice of the abyss. Darkness.

"Please, answer me!"

Silence resumed its vigilance.

Darkness stood its guard.

"Remember!" The voice did not seem my own, nor did it come from beyond.

Once I knew hand-dipped white crests of a flowing tranquil sea. I beheld gardens of evergreen blooming amidst the caress of spring's warmth. Traces of gold lit the sky bringing eternal wonderment. In the distance a stairway ascended going ever upward.

"Where am I?"

"You have passed beyond," a voice responded. It was not my own.

"I am dead?"

"Not yet," the voice replied. "Remember."

I sat in a chamber I could not make out. There was a window and its view shifted. A bird circled high above in a sky stained red. Purple was the color of the horizon, it moved forward. Pain struck me.

"Remember," the voice echoed again. But, this time the voice seemed to be my own.

"I cannot!"

"You can! Remember."

I was left no choice but to view the coming storm. The bolt sizzled leaving ashes of light. Pain, it consumed my heart. The wailing lifted high above the crowd like a wave.

"Where am I?"

"You have passed beyond. But, you remain lost."

"Who are you?"

Silence.

Darkness.

An echo, "remember."

Was that light in the distance? What is light in this consumption of woe? Please shelter me from this agonizing revelation that drifts on the island's shore. My solitude, my existence is a mystery. What is my name?

"Layman."

I cannot figure out if the name was spoken from my absent lips or from my unseen companion.

"Why is this happening?" I call out in vain. The answer is the same. Predictable.

"Remember."

I drifted away then. Letting the current take me where it would. Was that a shadow in the darkness? Maybe it was a monolith standing guard? What vigil is kept in the darkness where madness seems to be the only company held?

Flash.

"What was that?"

Flash.

I reach out to catch a glimpse of a lost memory. I want to see the flash in the darkness that may light the way. I pray I may witness the testimony to my lost existence. Flash.

A golden light so pure burns an imprint on eternity. What may it be? It seems so familiar. I search forgotten thoughts of lost millennia caught in the whirlpool. Who is watching this besides me?

"That does not matter yet," the voice tells me. "You must remember."

A planet full of burning stars, where one shines brighter than the others. Planets dance an endless ballet amidst the cosmos. One glows blue from turbulent seas traversed by white ships blowing on the wind. At the core of the world a tower crumbles, the stellar winds echo out a cry, its tumult reverberates throughout eternity.

"You are beginning to remember. Look past the Cloud of Darkness."

A reunification, an explosion, spills out into the black sea. Threads are pulled by a multitude of strange spirits. All the spirits are mystical with some being of beauty while others drip corruption. The cycle is bookend by Cosmic War.

"Good, now look deeper."

"What is all this?" I ask.

"Look on, you will find all your answers in blood."

Was there a chorus of laughter? Was it an echo of song? Why? I understand nothing that I see, but I will look deeper.

Smoothly now the procession continues. There is a world; I once called it home. It is far away, but yet close. I reach out unseen hands wishing to grasp it and bring it closer. I touch and feel nothing.

"Move to it," the voice says.

The distance is bridged, ten thousand miles traveled in a blink of a moment. How? The movement makes no sense to me. Did I travel through the Path of Stars? I try to remember what the Path of Stars may be.

I enter the planet looking at red skies filled with chaotic violence. Storms of the Deceiver are ethereal, striking without impunity. I try to cry out in agony. I do not want to see anymore. I remember.

"No!" I cry out. "Do not let me witness these atrocities again!"

"You must, these and many more. You do not remember everything yet, but you will. It is time to muster all of your strength!"

"I am Layman Salidan," I whisper to myself, "I will not falter, Tevindal be with me!"

The voice laughs in response, "how poetic, so prophetic."

My words catch in my mouth, "You are Tevindal," my words are a hoarse whisper.

"No," the voice says slamming close a door. "I am someone else, I am beyond the Great Lord's power. I am the Advisor and the Watcher. I am the Seeing Sage."

I am lost for words, "I have never heard of you before."

"No man has," comes the reply. "I live in the Beyond. You entered the Last Gate following him. You passed by the last guard of all that is known. You passed by the Towers of Ultuma. He is there already. There is no more time. See! See now through the shade of eternal darkness, oh last hero!"

Flash!

White burning light flames out into the flowing current. Colors bend and distort. My mind and thoughts burn like broken swelling ooze within an unapparent body. I scream out to the nothingness, their names come to my tongue, "Johanna! L'terin! My lost loves! I will avenge all wrongs!"

Flash!

White Light.

Fade.

Flash!

White Light.

Fade.

In the distance a mist can be seen. It drifts, cloaking something in its shadow. Something can be seen materializing behind the mantle. It is a great cliff adorned in golden green leaves rising above a small blue sea.

I am startled. I see my body now. I look down at my hands in bewitched wonderment. Joy and laughter swells from me.

I sit in a white boat. It sails from an unfelt wind. I try to turn my head to look behind.

"You must not look there!" The voice urgently commands. "To look back now is to have your mind shattered."

The voice comes from up ahead. It had boomed from the white-tree covered cliff. A figure could be seen, cloaked in forest green. His hands seemed to beckon the ship forward, pulling it with invisible strings.

"Come," the voice echoes like drifting mist. "Remember."

The vessel flowed on the unseen current, drifting forward to the edge of the tall cliff. The water began to swirl with different colors. There were greens and yellows, and shades of purple. The vessel turned, docking against the cliff. A staircase was visible here at the edge of all eternity, possibly leading to the infinite.

...

"Climb," the cloaked figured said. "Come now to the moment of destiny."

Layman Salidan, last of the line of Rantar, climbed and came to the cliff that overlooked the realms of all creation. Layman did not look. He had been warned. His eyes and concentration were solely on the cloaked figure that stood waiting.

They stood then eye to eye. They were one that journeys and the one that had seen all. The cloaked figure did not remove his hood, but Layman did not fear ill intention. Rather, long moments passed by, like grains of sands shifting down the hourglass, waiting for the moment to be turned over once again.

"I am the Seeing Sage," the cloaked figure began. "Records of time cannot count my passing. Tevindal is an infant compared to me."

"You are a God, then?" Layman asked.

"No," was the curt reply. "I am not a creator, nor do I possess the powers, which the Lord of Light holds. I am a resident, a witness, and outsider. My station allows me to see all ends, because I have never been involved. My life, my time is measured differently than the known creation. I know the ultimate truth."

"And what is that?" Layman asked.

"That the Ball of Light did not always exist."

"That's impossible," Layman retorted. He felt anger at such a blasphemy.

"Is it?" the Seeing Sage asked.

"Yes," the statement was clear and simple. "What else do you know?" Layman asked.

"That you are no match for this Scourge that you pursue," the Seeing Sage responded.

Layman Salidan, a bounty hunter that had crossed the paths of the Forever Night Sea to the unknown island that drifted in the Beyond stood speechless.

"And this is most unfortunate," the Seeing Sage said. "Because, if he is successful in his mission all will be conquered. Perhaps, that statement means more to me than you. From Devindal's conquering hand all existence will be wiped out. Though, the Ball of Light was not always present as the ancient legends decree, existence always has had its place. Without existence nothing can be forged. Nothing can come from nothing. Let me ask you, young Layman Salidan, what would there be if there was truly nothing?"

Layman's first impulse was to say, "nothing," but he took a moment and truly tried to imagine the possibility. As he sunk deeper into his comprehension, madness began to set in. His mind began to ache and his eyes bulged.

"That's right," the Seeing Sage started, as if he was reading Layman's thoughts. "Nothing means nothing!" the Seeing Sage's voice lifted to a roar. "There would be no space, no cosmic material, no Gods, and no Seeing Sage." He said the last with a laugh and a smirk. His hands were raised above his head, but the Seeing Sage's eyes were turned towards the cosmos.

"My mind hurts," said Layman. "It would be impossible for the absence of everything."

"So, one would think. But, the impossible can become possible if you fail your quest. Success in your mission may not be what you expect, but it is the only hope."

"How am I to be successful? Layman asked. "You said yourself that I stand no chance against Scourge."

The Seeing Sage said nothing. His knowing stare bared into Layman. His head dipped and lowered and raised again, eyes set with fiery determination. "You must remember!"

...

"Even now you forget. Pulled through the Veil and your life upon Star World has drifted away." The Seeing Sage's eyes burned, "remember L'terin, oh Shield of Stars be broken and burn you with her lost light!"

It came back to Layman and he sunk to his knees with the force of it. She lay there on the sandy beach, her chest not moving to inhale the sweetness of breath. The demon stood above her, his face full of green grotesque gloating. He burned hatred at Layman under the cloak of clouds.

"Remember Johanna as she lay sightless in the grasp of death upon the street!"

Johanna's body lay on hard black pavement. A dark pool spread out from beneath her. Her face a visage of shock and dismay, it pleaded for resolution of all hardship. The red lines of sky burned overhead as the crowd fled the wrath of the Deceiver. Explosions and gunfire was the chorus of the city.

"Good," the Seeing Sage said.

Layman wept openly. His pain was transparent and building quickly to inconsolable anger.

"Much pain is in your heart," said the Seeing Sage. "But, from your pain you have always gained strength. You, a mere mortal, have chased the Destroyer of Worlds from planet to planet. He has always slipped from your grasp, his plans and actions always one step ahead, always too powerful for you to halt."

"But, each setback has made you more of an opponent for him. Each friend that you have lost has made your resolve that much more. You may wonder why I have interceded. Why, after untold millennia and through the cycles of the Ball of Light have I waited till this moment?"

"It is because I have waited for you. You are different than all those that have come before. You are the last of a great line. Here, outside of all that has existed amidst the influence of the Ball of Light I will grant upon you the greatest gift and curse ever disclosed."

The Seeing Sage moved forward and forcibly placed his hands on Layman's forehead. Layman was wracked and heaving from his pain, but he still tried to struggle. Layman was too weak. The Seeing Sage held a different power and he played by different rules.

"Remember, now and forever until the end of all things!" Roared the Seeing Sage, "take a seat at the table of your ancestors and remember all the deeds and memories of their lives spanned across the three turnings of the Ball of Light! Arise! Behold, now the Blood of Rantar!"

Flash!

White Light.

Fade.

Flash!

White Light.

Fade.

Memory Restored!

A tunnel of light cycling downward was the blurred movement of stars. Planets destroyed and remade in their ancient image. Rantarok, the Tower of the Dead, the Halls of Faith, the Tower of Breina, the Tree of Love, Fernoth, creation, inspiration, memory, and strength. Layman's body convulsed taking it all in, and then he laid still.

"Awake and arise ancient brother," spoke the Seeing Sage in an awed quiet voice.

Layman's eyes fluttered open. They were a hew of a multitude of colors. He stood slowly, confidently. The memories and strength of ten thousand now made Layman's body their home.

"What do you remember?" Asked the Seeing Sage.

"Everything," Layman Salidan responded. "Everything from this moment back to the awakening of Breina Goldenflower and her dream of the first Rantar.

"You are ready now. You have passed the Test. You have been granted both a gift and curse," said the Seeing Sage.

"Yes," said Layman quietly.

"You must use their strength and use their memories. It is time for you to move on," said the Seeing Sage. He motioned with his hand and pointed to a cave that was deeper in the woods.

"That is your path. It will take you to where you need to go. Take with you those mighty items you have carried to the Beyond. They will be needed."

"Someone will be waiting for you on the other side," continued the Seeing Sage. "The skeleton's flesh must be restored. Go!"

Layman made to go, but stopped. "May I now gaze on the whole of creation?" Layman asked.

The Seeing Sage smiled, "yes."

Layman looked. He took one deep breath and let it out slowly. The immensity shook at his core, but he was strong enough now to withstand it. He turned, and walked to the cave's entrance and entered and left the Seeing Sage's cliff. The Seeing Sage dissipated behind him.

Part 2: Re-Forging of the Sword

The Cave was cold and adorned with a layer of frost. The path seemed to go on for miles, and during that time Layman was acquainted with the souls of the past that now resided within him. They spoke in many tongues and all at once. He was able though to sort through the madness.

A few of the voices commanded the respect of the others and they fell silent. There was much to be told to their new host, secrets that must come to light that could assist in Tevindal's cause. Layman listened to the whispers and rants of his ancestors. Achaines and his father Paraic taught Layman the art of their warrior-hood. Others taught him their compassion and love. Breina gave to him the knowledge of her mystical powers. And L'terin, L'terin was there too, being reborn of royal blood. Her secret she did not yet reveal.

The Cave curved and came around with a glinting light revealing an opening. Layman moved cautiously to it. He tried to peer through the opening when he reached it, but the light from the outside was too bright. Voices from a thousand others whispered to him, urging him to use caution. But there was no time for caution and advice, so Layman heeded it not, and moved through.

The brightness of the place outside the Cave momentarily blinded the last banner bearer of Tevindal. The brightness faded, and eyes adjusted to this new place that was in the Beyond. The first thing Layman noticed was the tall craggy frost tipped spires. They rose forever up to heights undreamed of in the worlds known before. They were oddly shaped and were tipped with purple hue.

The purple tint came from the sky overhead. It was not shaded by storm or cloud, but resonated the vibrant color with a pulsing intensity. Layman's eyes slid away from the sky and looked downward. A sloping valley was spread out before him with orchards that no longer bloomed fruit.

Layman looked further and at the base of a purple frost-capped mountain was an ancient fortress that rested quietly in its time-produced ruins. A voice whispered silently in his mind, "I remember this place," then was gone.

Layman began a slow measured walk. He checked his speed as he descended into the valley of the orchard. The plants were brown and the fallen fruit was rotten. The smell of sweet decay was ever present. There was frost that touched some of the trees, but stayed clear of others.

As he moved ever closer to the fortress he took notice that though some of its walls and terraces had fallen and broken, the castle was constructed from angles of architecture that seemed implausible. It was utterly beautiful he thought. He witnessed mosses and ivy slipped their way up the walls into now opened chambers. He instinctively knew whatever his final purpose in this place he was to go there first.

The orchards gave away and he came to a small river before the castle. A stone bridge crossed the river, and led to an open gate that was beyond. Layman tested his weight on the bridge; many gaping holes were present and he did not know if it would hold him. He put his hands in the desperation of faith and moved forth.

He moved forth confidently, not slowing his pace. Stone chipped at almost every step, some blocks giving away and falling with a great splash after he had passed. It would hold he believed. He had not come this far, crossed the Walls of Ultuma, and battled across worlds to fall and drown without a final confrontation.

He made it across the bridge and entered into an inverted arched gate. Gloom hung here, a memory flashed; blue light then it was gone. The tunnel of the gate expelled him into a courtyard of faded grass. Tall towers loomed up all around him, covering him in their shade.

A massive structure lay before him, it was the base of the tallest of the towers that stretched it seemed, ever upward. He made his way across the courtyard. All was eerily quiet. The blowing of the wind seemed devoid of sound. Something caught his eye, as he was about to enter the fortress.

Layman turned to get a better perspective of this new strangeness. It was a small vessel, a boat that lay tilted in the courtyard, not all that far away. It was a strange sight, but what caused Layman to pause was that here in a world of ancient decay the ship's sail had not disintegrated.

It blew in the silent wind. The sail unfolding like a flying banner stirring one on. It was the color red crisped flakes, like blood. In its center was an orange-golden orb that resonated a pinkish hue. Layman stared at this not comprehending its meaning, except that he knew someone awaited him within. He wasted no more time on thought, but turned and entered the fortress.

...

"Welcome to Valithoth," The great deep voice boomed.

Layman looked around for the speaker of the voice. He was weary from his climb. He stood now at the edge of the staircase that led to the chamber of the highest tower. His hand rested on the pommel of Heaven's Star, the blue blade of the starsword a few inches exposed letting the blue-fire glow to emanate into the stairwell.

"There is no need for that, yet, young Salidan," the voice spoke in its gruffness. "But, that blade will have its usefulness before all things are done here."

"Who are you?" Layman asked. "Where are you?" The voice seemed to come from all directions.

There was laughter carried on the wind's breath from an opened window on the bastion before him. There was not a hint of wickedness in it.

"Come forth into the chamber and learn the destiny that has long awaited you," the hidden voice said.

Layman shoved Heaven's Star fully back into its scabbard. He forced himself to remove his hand from the starsword's reassuring pommel. He took the last few steps to the bastion that lay before the chamber's closed door. He took a moment to glimpse the world beyond the opening, from which the wind blew its breath.

He looked down from where had come, this place that the voice had named Valithoth. "Yes, Valithoth was its name. It seems so different now. So...empty." The voice was of the memory of Achaines, the God of War.

Past the castle of Valithoth was the valley of the ancient orchards. Beyond the orchards Layman glimpsed the Cave from which he had come. But, beyond the Cave and its heights was a wall that mist clung to. The mist was too thick to tell what was hidden behind its secrets. He doubted the forest rested behind that, he had traveled through some kind of gateway, he was sure of that.

"Time grows late, Heir of Rantar," the voice said beckoning him. "Come."

Layman turned from the window and the secrets that were hidden and opened the chamber door and entered.

...

As Layman closed the chamber door he looked to his surroundings. The chamber was vast and domed with small openings in the ceiling. Red and purple carpet lined the floor, and at the chamber's center was the orange-golden globe with the pinkish tint that layman had witnessed on the ship's sail far below.

"I see that you recognize my sigil," the voice spoke with a deep, curt laugh.

Layman looked up to the speaker of the voice and was appalled at what he saw. A massive skeleton stood towards the back of the chamber. It was garbed with a pointy hat and a handkerchief. At its side was a fitted scabbard lined in lace. The skeleton looked at him queerly, with what could only be perceived as a smile, and for some reason it wore an eye patch over one socket, though the other socket held no tissue or flesh.

A strange feeling possessed Layman as he looked upon the skeleton; it was a sense of reverence. But, that feeling was ignored and forsaken as he saw what was beyond this ethereal creature. Upon a marble alter lay L'terin. She seemed to sleep peacefully, dressed in queenly purple garb.

Layman roared in rage and drew Heaven's Star in a quick fluid motion. The starsword's blue fire flared to life as Layman moved to proceed forward to engage the skeleton. He did not make it more than one-step. The skeleton raised forth his right hand and Layman was stayed, his sword fell from his hand, clattered and remained still. The skeleton's smile was gone, what remained was grim determination.

"You did not come all this way to strike at me," the skeleton said.

"What are you? Who are you?" Layman's voice was strong with fury.

"The answers to those questions are very important," the skeleton started. "For a long time now I have been known as Mael, the Stellar Mariner. The ship you saw in the courtyard belongs to me; it is called the Blazing Comet. But I was not always as you see me now. I placed myself in this position, paying the price." Mael said tapping his eye patch.

Mael continued on before Layman could say anything else, "By paying the price I was granted the vision of all possible futures, though none are truly certain. I have worked hard to allow certain pieces in the cosmic puzzle to be moved to allow you here for this one chance of setting all things right."

Silence hung in the chamber for many moments before Mael continued on.

"I was once something greater, letting the cosmic swirl sway in the stellar winds. Through the Dunlyne, Torlyne, and now the Forlyne and through the Silent Age of the Ball of Light I have played my part. The ultimate decision to the answer of how it will all play out, rests in this final confrontation to come."

"I can only play this last part by aiding you. I can do no more than that. I sacrificed my power and form to do so at the Cosmic Battle of Rantarok. I give to you this small dagger as an offer of my friendship," he said offering him an ordinary weapon.

Layman took the small blade and began to shake and his knees became unstable. His heart beat rapidly from within his breast and his mouth trembled. He forced his voice to emerge from him to ask the question, to which he now knew the answer.

"Who are you?" It was a hoarse croaking whisper.

The sternness of Mael's face softened. Though, one eye was covered, and the other one seemed a blank gaping hole, there seemed a gentle kindness there. The arms of the skeletal space pirate spread wide open in a comforting welcoming gesture.

"Layman Salidan, last of the line of Rantar, and last of hope for the Reconciling of the Ball of Light, I am the Lord of Light; Tevindal."

Layman fell to his knees and wept openly. And the banished form of Tevindal came to him to give him comfort. Layman was at a loss of words and his spirit ached from within. He delved deep to gain the strength to reopen his eyes and when opened he looked upon L'terin.

His voice was found while looking at the second woman that he had loved and lost, "how is she here when I saw Scourge take her through the gate on the beach?"

"Though the evil wizard is strong, he does yet hold his true strength in the Beyond," said Tevindal. "This is the realm of the Seeing Sage and the stronghold of the hidden ancient fortress of Valithoth, where many great deeds were conceived and put into action. He only found the path here, but could not control the elements that brought him forth."

"I took L'terin's body from him as he passed through the long voyage. And I can assure you it has been a long voyage, 10,000 years of man have passed since you entered the gate, but for both of you it seemed mere moments."

Layman openly gaped. He looked at the skeleton that was the Lord of Light and back to where L'terin lay as if asleep.

"Hank...how is it her body still remains? Why didn't you slay him at that moment and end all of this?" Layman asked in total confusion.

Tevindal looked at him calmly, his demeanor ever patient, "I have had many chances to slay the Wizard Scourge. I could have ended him and his conquest of worlds would have never taken place. But, that is not why I paid the price to see all possible futures and outcomes."

"Many have died at his cruel hands, and each death has brought to me great pain. I saw the true path that would lead to a True End, and usher the sadness and pain away. It was you that destiny shown its chance, but it is true that you may still fail and all will be lost. For, if Scourge is indeed successful, he will bring forth a closure that even he does not understand."

"There is so much I do not understand," Layman said shaking his head. "I met a man that called himself the Seeing Sage and he declared that he was older than you. How is that possible? I thought you were God?"

"I am," responded Tevindal. "He is what he said he is. He is different. He is the Witness that sees all. He is whom I paid the price to, he and his Well."

"I still do not completely understand," replied Layman.

"It matters not," said Tevindal. "To understand all the mysteries of the Eternal Cosmos and what lies in the Forever Night Sea is not why you are here. You are here to set it all right."

"How am I to do that?" asked Layman.

Tevindal swept his bony arms in two directions, first at L'terin's body that rested on the altar and then to the sword sheathed at Layman's side. "With the aid of those two."

Layman shook his head. "I still don't understand," he said again, but with anger this time. "What is it I am to stop Scourge from doing anyway?"

"He travels now across the Mountains of Frost that rest behind this fortress. He searches for the prison to where I banished Devindal. He wishes to free his master in his full strength. Devindal sits in a prison guarded by the Stars of the Falina, but he remains whole, unlike me. If released he will quickly destroy me, I no longer hold the power to confront him openly."

"Then what happens after that?" Layman ventured to ask.

"Then he wins and evil reigns forever."

"But, how do I find Scourge and confront him? He is searching this moment as we sit here talking about the fate of all things," Layman said.

"He is not yet near his destination," replied Tevindal. "He knows for what he seeks, but yet must discover its exact location. I know its true location, and his."

"His? How?" asked Layman

Tevindal laughed, "He took from you an object, a sphere to open the gateway to this place."

"Yes," said Layman slowly. "The Sphere of Light."

"And you took it from a well did you not?" asked Tevindal. The Lord of Light did not wait for a response, "Have you not been listening what I have been saying about prices being paid? The sphere that you took from that place is my missing eye." Tevindal smiled, "I watch him even now."

...

The wind blew forcibly its cold blast from the heights of the rocky spires that seemed to stretch on forever. The Wizard Scourge tightened his grip to his cloak, pulling it around him for warmth. He was a conqueror of worlds, the killer of trillions, but he was not immune to the frigid cold.

He had forsaken his disguise that he had worn for so long. His handsome face that had carried with it a thousand different names was left rotting somewhere where he had cast it down forever. It mattered not, his grand quest that he had plotted since the Torlyne was almost completed. He would not need diplomacy and secrecy after that. No time would need to be wasted moving across the filthy stars to conquer one planet at a time. His reward would be beyond reckoning.

Scourge knew what would happen when he succeeded, his master would destroy Tevindal finally. The Dark Lord would sweep away whatever remnants of the Lord of Light remained. Whatever bastions still existed to gather the souls of his followers would also be swept away. Scourge would rule as regent in place of Myr that had perished at Rantarok.

The wizard continued to climb up onto a rising cliff. He peered over the ledge, looking out into the frost and mist that shaded the directions. On the distant horizon, tucked down between two rising mountains that stood taller than the rest was a blue glow that emitted from the translucent cover. Scourge's black twisted heart skipped a beat.

It was the place in which he sought. A serpentine smile slithered onto his greenish face. He stood on the cliff ignoring the blast of cold coming off from the Mountains of Frost. His reptilian eyes darted back and forth trying to conjure the best path to take to the prison of Devindal.

He laughed wickedly and loud at his perceived soon to be victory. The laughter rolled its echo across the mountains and the Beyond; it was like a chord from the instrument of Doom. He thought of the fools that had brought him the sphere that rested in his satchel. The sphere made him wretch, the thought of touching it again was unbearable, but it had severed its purpose.

The sphere had cut the cosmic fabric allowing him to make a gateway to this place. He had sought the Key for so long, learning more and more about its hidden location as he moved from world to world. So many he had tortured for the information, but in the end he could not retrieve it himself. Instead, two fool lovers brought it straight to him, ignorantly thinking to use it to bring about his ruin.

It had been they who had suffered. The Hunter standing there on the edge of the Sea of Stars, weeping over his slain love, as his sword wavered before him. She was lovely to kill, but there was something strange about her death, almost as if it were a mistake for him to do it, he shook that nonsense away.

The thought of the dead girl and the Hunter gave him a momentary pause from his mirth of seeing the lights of the Stars of the Falina that lined Devindal's prison below. Where did her body go when he passed through the gate? And how did the Hunter come about that sword?

Scourge's hand pulsed with more pain than usual at the thought of the Falina starsword that he had tried to pick up in the Halls of the Wolf. That accursed sword had left him with constant pain for centuries, many more than he could now remember. Who knew besides him where that fortress lay amidst the Forever Night Sea?

His thoughts shifted to the dead pirate who had given him passage to Gryla's lair. Could he have gone to the desolate temple and recovered the blade from the ruination? Fear entered Scourge at the thought of the ferry ride across the wilderness of the Forever Night Sea. He had faced armies and kings and laughed at their mockery of resistance, but the dead pirate terrified him to his core.

The dead pirate was a power greater than himself, but he had never heard of him before or since their one meeting. That creature's tale was not documented in all the histories of the Realms of Confusion or before. He did not take part in the War of the Gods, nor Rantarok, or any others that Scourge could decipher.

Who was he? Where was he now? The thoughts plagued the wizard's mind to the point of aching. Scourge shook his head, removing the thoughts. It mattered not, the pirate would play no part in these events. Scourge made a vow to himself that when these events were over and his master freed he would raise an army and hunt down the pirate and truly make him dead. Scourge smiled again, and moved on to complete his goal.

...

"Come closer," Tevindal said. He stood at a small forge that was tucked away in the corner of the tower. The heat of the burning fires was rising, making Layman sweat even though the cold air still entered the tall tower of Valithoth. Layman wiped his hand across his brow and then came closer.

"What is the forge for?" Layman asked.

"You must have a weapon to face Scourge with." Tevindal replied.

"But, isn't Heaven's Star enough? It has served the Rantars throughout many conflicts and faced down many of the mighty demons of Devindal," Layman said with the aid and urging of many of the voices that rested in his stirring memories.

"Heaven's Star is mighty," Tevindal agreed. "But, there are changes that must be made to it for the coming battle. It must be re-forged. Now if you will draw the starsword and give it to me."

Layman slowly drew the blade and its light shown its blue-fire across the walls of the chamber. He offered the sword to the Lord of Light in reverence, and in that fashion Tevindal accepted it. Tevindal held the sword aloft examining it.

"No finer sword has been crafted in all the turning ages of the Ball of Light," Tevindal admitted. "But, today this sword shall be mightier than it ever has been."

Tevindal placed the sword over the hot coals and produced a chisel and hammer of a metal unknown to Layman. Tevindal waited till the starsword was extremely hot, and then with powerful blows he hit the chisel with his hammer. He carved out a small trough down through the middle flat of the blade.

With each strike of the chisel blue flame raged and small parts of the blade flecked off. Tevindal carefully gathered the small splinters that were removed and placed them in a corner of the forge that was not as hot. Soon, the sword had a deep groove down its center. With the first part of his work apparently finished, Tevindal turned to Layman.

"Now, we give the blade a fire greater than it has ever wielded!" Tevindal exclaimed in voice that carried with it ages of fury towards the enemy.

The Lord of Light moved away from the forge, leaving the blade still steaming and gleaming in shades of crystal light. He came now to L'terin who rested her eternal slumber uncorrupted upon the marble altar. Tevindal caressed her forehead with bony fingers. Words were whispered over her, which Layman could not make completely out. He thought he heard the name, Laevindal.

From somewhere Tevindal produced a small thin needle and two small vials. He gripped her folded hand lightly, and rolled her right sleeve up slightly. The needle he gently pushed into a vein in her arm and placed one of the vials underneath it. Small trickles of her red blood flowed into the vial, drip by drip; it was the most precious liquid in the known creation.

The process was slow and the blood trickled filling up one vial and then Tevindal worked to filling up the second. As the second vial was brimmed with the bright red blood of the woman Layman had loved, Tevindal removed the needle. Tevindal moved a finger to the spot that the blood had flowed and touched it. A small light gleamed like a wink and the flow of blood stopped. Reverently he rolled down her sleeve and placed her arm back folded over her breast.

Tevindal turned and looked at Layman as if he were expecting questions. Layman gave him none, knowing that the answers would be revealed in short time. Tevindal moved away from L'terin then, her body left to be in peace. Layman let his gaze linger on her as his eyes filled with tears. It was too much, the pain overcame him and he wept.

He did not know it, but Tevindal was at his side. As the tears of a love lost streamed down Layman's face and rolled off his cheek they were intercepted before their plunge to the floor. Another vial Tevindal had produce unbeknownst to Layman, and it was the Hunter's tears that were collected this time.

Layman looked down and then up in confusion as he realized what Tevindal was doing. Tevindal gave a sad smile and as he bottled up the vial he turned away. The skeleton, which was the Lord of Light in his banishment, went back to the forge to continue his work.

He held in his hand three vials now, two of L'terin's blood and one of Layman's tears. He placed one of the vials of L'terin's blood away and held up the other two. He removed the stoppers and slowly poured out the contents into the groove of the blade. There was a bright flare and Layman turned away.

The brightness was growing and Layman had to shield and shut his eyes. At the forge Tevindal re-heated the splinters and shards of the sword he had removed. They hissed in the flames. Then the sound of the hammer sent its thunder repeatedly.

With each stroke the tower swayed. With each stroke the mountains shook. With each stroke the heavens pulsed. And with each stroke there was an echo of song.

Then there was silence. The Hammer of Tevindal was put down. It was to never to be used again. There was awe in the astounded voice that spoke, "it is done."

Layman opened his eyes. His head still rung and his body quavered from the striking Hammer of God. Tevindal stood before him now holding the starsword before him. The fire of the sword was brighter than it had ever shone before, but it was different for Layman to comprehend it. "The flame of Heaven's Star is now purple?" Layman asked.

"Yes," Tevindal replied. "The sword has been re-forged."

Part 3: Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost

The ground heaved and trembled. In the distance, mountaintops tumbled away falling to the distant ground below. The ringing of the drumming thunder made blood flow from Scourge's ears. The wizard lost his balance and fell.

He stayed there on the rocky surface covered in snow and ice. The thunder still pounded from somewhere in the distance, but he could not pinpoint its origin. A fell sound came to him; a sound that to those that did not worship Devindal would fill them with hope. It was a voice of enchantment and beauty. It whispered a spell with the sound of thunder. It terrified the wizard that stood on the eve of all darkness.

Words were spoken in that voice on the thundering wind. Words were spoken in an ancient tongue before the coming of mortals. Scourge was schooled in many histories and languages of good and evil and he understood the message, "Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost the Falling Light will be the Returning Glow!"

Scourge remained on the rocky cliff spellbound no longer by the voice, which had faded, but by its message. Why had that voice spoken with the thunder? What had caused the thunder? What were the implications of these moments on his mission?

He stood, pushing the collected snow away from his robes. His green eyes flashed in fury and haste. He had to move even faster now. He felt that something pursued him, but what agent Tevindal sent now he had no clue. He prayed it was not the skeleton pirate or he feared doom would come to him.

He ran down the mountain pass before him. One slip would send him tumbling down into the ruin of oblivion. It mattered not, he had not time to be idle with care. The die had to be cast now for the sake of ultimate victory. The scales were soon to be tipped in the favor of one or the other. The victor would take all the spoils.

Scourge moved like the wind now, his robe fluttering darkness behind him. His shadow was dark flame, purging the ice behind, turning the water that dripped into a foul liquid. He glimpsed down into the mist that swirled with the blue light.

For a moment the mist opened its concealment. He witnessed the citadel in which Devindal was held at guard. It stood alone on a bastion of tall rock. Winding from the tower guarded by shimmering jewels was a long arched bridge that connected to a tall mountain of purple stone, it stood proudly against the pulsating sky.

The bridge was the shade of blue-tinted white ice. It seemed to have been crafted carefully from the quarries of stone and ice of the Mountains of Frost. Scourge paused now, staying himself to check his bearings. Something flashed in his mind, a memory or vision? He was not sure.

He knew what that place was though. The song that had echoed across all the realms inside and outside Ultuma had spoken its name. It was the aforementioned Bridge of Falling Frost. It was where destiny loomed. He moved forward and did not slow again.

...

"It is time," Tevindal announced. "Take the sword and sheath it."

Layman moved forward and took Heaven's Star. He looked intently at the changed blade that had gone from blue fire to purple. He looked at Tevindal with questioning eyes. Tevindal nodded to him, as if to tell him again to sheath the blade. Layman did what was asked and the starsword slid soundlessly into its scabbard.

"There is one more weapon I will grant you," Tevindal continued. He held up the second vial of blood he had collected from L'terin. "You must drink this."

Layman was astonished, more so than when her blood was added to the blade at his side. "For what purpose? Why is her blood added to my sword? Why would I drink her blood? I love her."

"Because," Tevindal started patiently, "Her blood is a weapon against the evil forces conspiring against us. The reasons will be revealed soon enough."

Layman moved forward and took the vial from Tevindal's outstretched hand. He looked at it intently and over the brim of glass Tevindal nodded his approval. Layman removed the stopper and in one fluid movement he upended the contents.

"It is done," Tevindal said. "Now we must go. Time is running late."

"We?" Layman asked, "I thought you could play no part in this."

"I will not take part in the battle to come, but I will take you there," said Tevindal. "We are not far from Devindal's prison. It rests behind this very mountain, but Scourge is on his way and will be nearing the end of his long journey soon. Come!"

Layman Salidan, Hunter of demons and vile foes of the light looked upon the body of L'terin one last time. She rested in her slumber eternally, but perhaps there were other worlds and places than this. Layman did not know. He had a mission that would decide all.

A voice whispered to him then, it was soft and gentle. It gave him strength, but he refused to believe its source. He turned then and followed Tevindal. Leaving behind the Grand Tower of Valithoth, forever.

...

Maniacal laughter filled the frostbitten air. Scourge stood at the edge of the Bridge of Falling Frost, on the other side of the monument stood the prison tower of Devindal, Lord of Darkness. He took a step forward onto the bridge; he did so timidly, wondering if spells or wards protected it. Nothing did.

"Fools!" He yelled triumphantly to the heavens and mountains that stood their silent guard. In Tevindal's idiocy he had left the path clear, perhaps believing none would ever make it this far. "We were always the smarter!" Scourge proclaimed as he walked fully onto the bridge. He moved slowly, enjoying every moment of his triumph. "There is nothing you can do now! Watch all of your creation crash down in vain!"

At that moment in the sky that did not hold a sun, there was a shadow. It moved swiftly, and in its wake came a great whooshing of sound and wind. The shadow swept before Scourge moving behind him. Scourge looked intently around him gathering his staff for battle.

Scourge turned back to the mountains from where he had come. And what was hovering at the beginning of the bridge filled the wizard with mortal fear. It was the ship of the skeleton pirate, and the mariner stood proudly at the helm of the vessel with a bright blade in his hand. The blood-red sail blew frantically in the wind with its orange orb with a pinkish hue fully exposed.

"No," Scourge whispered.

"Yes," Mael the Stellar Mariner, Tevindal in his banished form answered. "It is about time little wizard," his deep voice boomed.

Scourge pointed his staff and a ball of green flame was emitted flying towards Tevindal. There was a flash of light as Tevindal's sword swept forth blocking the magical bolt. The green flame flickered out of existence. Tevindal smiled fury.

The skeleton pirate stood still as the twilight of dawn. And to his lips he raised a curved horn and blew one long solitary note. The Trumpet of Doom blasted out its call across the Beyond and echoed out into Forever Night Sea that moved ceaselessly amongst its borders of the Ultuma.

Scourged quivered where he stood, "no," he whispered again.

Tevindal answered not with words, but sent his ship slowly forward. The vessel sped up as it approached Scourge who was now near halfway across the bridge. Scourge tried nothing offensively; he only stayed there with his mouth gaping, awaiting his doom. But shock struck Scourge rather than a deathblow. The Blazing Comet flew over Scourge's head by mere inches and moved off into the distance. Laughter and a gust wind trailed behind it.

Scourge's ascended head looked back down across the bridge before he could alter his view and follow the course of the pirate. The wizard then noticed that a new shape and shadow was emerging from a new-formed mist. From the swirling pockets of ice ran a man unto the bridge with a sword held vertically before him. The mist Scourge noticed partly came from the blade that was a deep royal purple fire. But the wielder of the sword was someone that caused him to laugh in the wake of the terror he had just faced.

The wielder of the sword was the Hunter the wizard had last seen on the shore of the Sea of Stars. Scourge snarled at this, his confidence returning. "Die!" Scourge roared as he sent pulsing green missiles down the length of the bridge to destroy Layman Salidan.

Scourge smiled with grim satisfaction as Layman ran towards the projectiles not even trying a weak attempt to save him from impending death. Scourge's snarl of victory soon became contorted into scorn and disbelief. The missiles struck and dissipated from an illuminating shield that pulsed around the Hunter as the green fire struck the previously invisible protection.

Layman ran on, unhindered, and Scourge was stayed in confusion. The wizard cast more spells from his staff and they too were turned away from the shield about the Hunter. Scourge looked closer at the weapon that was wielded by his foe. Scourge's green skin then flickered a shade of red and his hand began to pulse fiery pain.

Scourge saw the sword was indeed Heaven's Star, but it had been changed. It had been re-forged with new powerful properties that seemed to make his ranged attacks useless. Layman was nearly on him now, thus Scourge dropped his staff and drew from within his robes an ancient blade of the Falina. The sword's blade emitted silver fire down to its hilt.

"Come fool!" Scourge screamed. "Die in vain and watch the worlds come crumbling down!"

Layman did not answer, but wordlessly snarled as he struck Heaven's Star forward at his opponent. As Layman came close, Scourge saw the purple glow of the shield about the Hunter. The shield passed over Scourge bringing him within in its confines. The shield made the wizard's skin prickle with icy sickness, but caused him no further harm. Scourge knew then that the shield would only provide protection from attacks from a distance; it would not stop the thrust of his blade.

Scourge had toyed with the fool before on the shores of the Sea of Stars, but quickly realized that in some manner this was not he whom he had fought. Heaven's Star flashed its purple fire pulsating with the furious attacks fueled by Layman's swift attacks and parries. Scourge fell back, his thin silver blade trying to keep the great warrior at bay.

"Who are you?" Scourge heard his voice asking in disbelief.

"I am all of my blood that has come before," Layman spoke with the power of many voices. "I have faced down mightier than you. I fought at the Tower of the Serpent's Eye, I fought during the War of the Gods, I fought at Rantarok, and I have fought you before! I am the Blood of Rantar and I wield my ancestors' sword with the might of them all!"

Terror filled Scourge's eyes as he saw the eyes of his foe flash and change. He saw there that the Hunter spoke the truth. Scourge knew he was not a warrior to match those of that line, which included Achaines, the God of War. He knew quick cleverness must overcome strength, and it must be done now.

Scourge disengaged from the fight, turning and picked up his staff. The shield of Heaven's Star he passed through and he would not have any power to defeat Layman Salidan. His defeat no longer mattered, Scourge saw his own doom and accepted it. Ultimate victory could still be achieved.

He turned his back to the warrior of the line of Rantar and drew from his robes the Sphere of Light. From the corner of his eye, Scourge saw shortly in the distance that Tevindal stood upon the bow of the Blazing Comet, watching silently. Scourge threw the Sphere of Light across the Bridge of Falling Frost to the stronghold's gate that held his master. As the Sphere of Light, the Key that had cut the fabric of cosmic space, struck the gate, Scourge fired a single blast from his staff. The burst was all of Scourge's mustered strength and it mingled with the Sphere of Light at the gate and both exploded in violent fury.

Scourge roared in triumphant as he watched the gate begin to break away, but his personal glee of victory was soon halted. The sharp edge of Heaven's Star drove through the wizard's back with the purple blade coming fully out the wizard's front. Layman was now intimately behind him.

Layman's whispered breath was in the wizard's ear, "at last wizard, you answer for all your chaos and crime that you have left strung across the Realms of Confusion."

"You talk of punishment and vengeance fool, as if you have accomplished something great," Scourge whispered back, his strength rapidly fading. "Enjoy your 'victory' as my master emerges and makes my works puny and insignificant." Scourge looked back to Layman smiling his serpentine wickedness one last time and then was consumed by purple fire.

The ashes of Scourge drifted away on the wind, but Layman did not heed them. He watched in great fear as he saw that the wizard had spoke truly. The gate was breaking and over the prison stronghold the binding stars were fading. Layman raced across the remaining parts of the Bridge of Falling Frost to the citadel.

The gate was falling in fiery riven fragments and the rocky island among the mountains was shaking from the stirring Lord of Darkness from within. Layman spared one moment to glance back at Tevindal on his ship, but the Lord of Light did not move or give any indication. He knew the Lord of Light had seen this before, but if this was a scene of triumph or failure Layman did not know. He could only precede and do what he could.

As Layman came upon the gate there was a whisper in his mind. It was a voice of beauty and kindness, and its coming almost stopped him here at the edge of all ruin.

"Do not stop!" Spoke the voice of L'terin. "Destroy Devindal, here and now!"

"How?" Layman whispered back to his love in his own mind. "How are you here? How do I destroy Devindal?" Layman was almost to the gate.

"I was born immaculately, a mix of the blood of your great ancestor, Breina Goldenflower and Laevindal, the daughter of Tevindal," she responded. "My blood is within your blade, use the Fire of Tevindal to destroy the Beast once and for all, for right now he is weak."

Layman was at the gate. He saw within its confines a great beast that appeared as molten fire. He witnessed Devindal's massive arm and hand and drove forward Heaven's Star with all his might. The blade descended streaking its Holy Flame to smite the Dark One. High above dark eyes smoldered, watching its soon to be destruction, but pre-told fate struck, as a piece of the gate fell, catching Heaven's Star and smashing it under a metal fragment weighing hundreds of pounds.

The rest of the gate burst asunder. All its fragments littering the sky like the falling stars of the Falina overhead. The Stars of the Falina flared and winked out. Devindal was released, and he stood in all his fiery unholy glory on the edge of the Bridge of Falling Frost, towering before Layman at his feet.

Layman wept in agony as the Dark One cast his gaze over him then bent to pick him up. The Dark Lord looked at his would be destroyer and laughed madness. Devindal held Layman up to his face to enjoy his moment of absolute victory. Devindal's eyes then moved over to Tevindal who floated on his ship nearby.

Layman looked up to the Lord of all Darkness as the Beast's gaze left him to gloat over Tevindal. The voice of L'terin returned to him at that moment. "Now!" She screamed, "Destroy him now!"

Layman thought back at her memory the image of Heaven's Star under the debris far below. "No!" She answered in fury. "My blood rests within you!" The voice was not L'terin's.

The voice that had spoken last was not spoken within the confines of Layman's mind, but had come from without. It had echoed across all creation. It was the voice of Laevindal. She spoke again, "Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost the Falling Light will be the Returning Glow!"

Devindal looked fiercely at Tevindal, and the Lord of Light smiled his bony skeleton teeth. Devindal's confusion brought his vision back to Layman, but it was too late, Layman was already acting his final drama. The Hunter drew the small dagger that Tevindal had given him and with all his might be brought the blade forcibly across his own throat.

Hot blood bubbled out of Layman's throat down onto the hand of Devindal. Devindal roared crashing down many of the Mountains of Frost that stood watching the scene unfold. The Dark Lord crushed the body of Layman with a squeeze of his hand spilling the remaining blood into his own grasp.

The Holy Fire of Laevindal, the Fire of Tevindal, now burned from the outside in of Devindal's vulnerable form. Ash began to fleck off the Dark Lord as he began to diminish. Tevindal sent the Blazing Comet forward with amazing speed and picked up the slain form of Layman and then shot forth into the sky.

Far below, Tevindal watched the carnage as Devindal stumbled and fell his last time onto the Bridge of Falling Frost and exploded. The bridge and mountains dissipated along with the Realm of the Beyond. Tevindal left that place and watched its destruction. The Seeing Sage was no more, but it was a price the Sage had gladly agreed to. The end of all things evil was a fair price for the squelching of immortality.

In the cosmic black Void, Tevindal, along with his two silent passengers, the bodies of Layman and L'terin, watched as the Realms of Confusion and all hidden realms and universes past the Ultuma began to collapse. They shrunk, being pulled to a nexus that awaited them, which had always awaited them. The form of the realms began to form an orange, incomplete orb that transmuted out a pinkish hue.

Tevindal, aboard the Blazing Comet flew to the incomplete orb of the Ball of Light. He looked back to his passengers and whispered, "all will be restored. Evil has fallen. The Ball of Light will remain pure forever. You two will be joined again, but this time in eternal bliss!"

Tevindal turned back to the visage before him. The Blazing Comet streaked out its cosmic fire for a few more moments before it plunged into the orange orb. Tevindal raised to his lips the Trumpet of Doom, and for the last time played its booming essence. There was a great flash and thunder and what remained behind was something different, something completely pure. And amongst the silent currents of the Forever Night Sea, sitting silently rested the Ball of Light. The Ball of Light glowed golden in pure brilliance against its lightless picture frame forever after.

Thus ends the Forlyne and the Turning Ages of the Ball of Light

About the Author

Patrick lives in Brownsburg, Indiana with his wife, Sarah, and is a stay-at-home Dad to their daughter Irene. Before this he had an array of time-passing vocations, including high school history teacher, banker, laser engineer, hearing aid technician, car wash supervisor, and library assistant. Pat received his Bachelor's degree in History from IUPUI in Indianapolis. His hobbies include living and breathing Notre Dame Football, Star Wars, reading Tolkien and other fantasy authors, researching ancient astronaut theories, and the Indianapolis 500. He enjoys spending his time outdoors with his family, including grilling, hiking, kayaking, and captaining his father-in-law's pontoon boat.

Other books by this author available now:

Book One of the Chronicles of the Ball of Light - The Story of Faded Stars

Prelude to the Chronicles of the Ball of Light- The Box of Stories and White Summer

Tales of the Mountain King

Drunk Dwarf Inn Christmas

The Shimmering Knight

The Adventures of Koril Icebane Tale 1: The Relic in the Tomb

Elm: The Tale of the Tree of Sleep

Coming Soon:

Book Three of the Chronicles of the Ball of Light - Laevindal

Find updates at Boltrilogy.wordpress.com

Print copies of all books can be purchased on Amazon.com
