《Shadow Honor (series)》


 Shadow Honor - Chapter 1: Rise of the Underking

    Salidar could smell the coming rain. He glanced up to the clouds and cursed. They were beginning to darken, and his mood darkened along with them. Rain was the last thing he wanted. They were close to finishing what his ancestors had started hundreds of years ago, but a little moisture was all it would take to ruin the chalk circle his mages were drawing upon the cobblestones. He would come back if the rain interrupted his plans, but each journey to the city risked his exposure to the Knights of the Firmament. If the knights ever learned what Salidar was trying to accomplish, he would never have a chance of succeeding.


    He glanced to the man at his side, Fasha. For as long as Salidar had known Fasha, the man had remained an enigma, but Fasha had never proven to be anything other than loyal. Fasha had gone so far as to willingly become Salidar''s familiar, bonding his blood to Salidar''s and giving Salidar control of that bond. That display of trust from Fasha had touched Salidar deeply, and he cared for Fasha as he did a brother. Although the bond allowed Salidar to compel Fasha to act in accordance to his will, he had never had reason to do so, for Fasha always did as he was told. He served as Salidar''s chief assassin, and when there wasn''t someone to kill he was at Salidar''s side, serving to intimidate the men and women who served under Salidar''s command.


    "How much longer will it take?" Salidar grumbled quietly, glad only Fasha was within earshot. For a king to show such a display of impatience was improper in Salidar''s mind. He wanted those under his command to work urgently out of respect for him, not out of fear for their lives should they not work fast enough. Salidar hated men who ruled by fear as much as he hated men who ruled by love. Mutual respect between subject and ruler was the only way Salidar felt that a society could progress, and his kingdom had flourished under his rule.


    Fasha glanced up at Salidar with one corner of his mouth raised in a half-grin and a sinister twinkle in his eye. "Are you worried about the knights finding us, or the weather?" Fasha asked then chuckled with light amusement. He returned his focus to where the alleyway widened around a pillar of grey fog that stretched until it disappeared into the clouds. Four magi were busy drawing the circle of runes in white chalk across the grey cobblestones at the base of the pillar. The circle was designed to protect them from what was trapped inside. The magi murmured amongst themselves at a volume too low for Salidar to hear the subject of their apparent disagreement. "Don''t worry, my king, all is well," Fasha said soothingly, "We''ll be out of Pentalus in no time, and we''ll have our prize with us."


    Salidar nodded, but not before glancing toward the mouth of the alleyway and the busy street beyond, where several of his soldiers stood guard. Beyond them lay a thriving metropolis filled with people who considered him an enemy. They were in the center of Pentalus, the City of Wonders, which was in the middle of the plains of Northern Kalle. It was the center of trade for the modern world and also the power center of Neredos, the Radiant King. King Neredos ruled from his throne built in The Everbright City, which was set among the clouds above Pentalus. The Everbright City was held aloft by the same magic Neredos had wielded against the demon hordes eight hundred years before. Salidar avoided looking up at the clouds above him again, knowing that Neredos was above him somewhere, and he gritted his teeth in silent rage.


    Neredos had sealed the demon armies within the pillars of air that supported the cloud city, while the five demon generals who led the armies were sealed inside the five largest pillars. The Radiant King siphoned the power from these demons to grant himself immortality, giving him the power to rule for eternity should the gods allow him the privilege. Salidar''s ancestors had spent centuries trying to determine a way around that immortality, but there was a problem; each demon general afforded Neredos protection from death in their own way. One afforded him immunity to the elements, another to disease, a third to injury, the fourth to aging, and the fifth removed the need to sleep, eat, or even breathe. Only by maintaining his link to the sealed demons could he ensure that he remained immortal, and thus he kept a watchful eye on those five pillars in particular and placed them in prominent places in the city. If all went well with his plans in the alley that would no longer be a problem, and Salidar was eagerly anticipating success in bringing down the tyrant.


    At first Neredos had ruled with compassion and virtue, and his benevolence had been known far and wide. People flocked to his banner, but only those who had been among his first followers were allowed to reside in the Everbright City. Those who arrived later were forced to settle amongst the pillars beneath the cloud city, forming the city of Pentalus, which grew to become a thriving metropolis. Pentalus became a center of wealth and commerce, and in general the people were happy to serve their king.


    But in time the laws became unbearable for some who lived under the rule of King Neredos. Those who disagreed with the law were few in number in the beginning, but over time their forces grew until they became great enough to challenge the king. The rebels were led by Odiran thulu''Khant, one of Salidar''s ancestors, and he had forced his way into the Everbright City. The King''s army, the Knights of the Firmament, met the rebels in battle and left only a small number of the insurgents alive. Those who did survive fled into caves that came to be called ''The Shade''. These caves lay beneath the city of Pentalus, and the rebels who escaped came to resent those who lived in the surface city above them, for supporting the king who had forced them into hiding.


    It was a resentment that Salidar and his people still carried. The Shade became a haven for those who didn''t fit in anywhere else; the thieves and vagrants, the rebels, all those who could not bear the strict rule of the Everbright tyrant. In time The Shade formed its own laws, though most were unwritten; whoever found it first, kept the prize; do not kill unless you are willing to die. It was anarchy, but yet there was a sense of order, a consequence brought on by the collective need to survive. Where the merchants formed their guilds in Pentalus above, the thieves of The Shade formed their own guilds below, out of the belief that there was safety in numbers. Both types of guilds found that there was profit to be gained by working with their fellows. The way of life may have been different in The Shade, but human nature remained the same.


    The greatest of the guilds formed under Odiran thulu''Khant after he had led the rebels against the King in the first War of Pentalus. It was he who had retreated into the depths to bide his time for another strike. Though the opportunity never arose again during Odiran''s lifetime, his men remained loyal until his death and transferred that loyalty on to his son when he took his father''s place as head of the guild. And thus the lineage of the Underking, Salidar''s lineage, was born.


    From father to son the legacy continued, and with the legacy came the dream of the rebellion. Each Underking knew they must watch for the opportunity to strike at Neredos with everything they had, and to tear the kingdom out from under the tyrant''s feet. As the years passed by, three more wars occurred, but each time the rebels were driven back into The Shade. The hope of rebellion began to fade as the memory of why it had begun disappeared, until the Underking''s guild became no better than the thieves'' guilds that surrounded him.


    Until Salidar came to power, that is. He had been told the family legends, though he had been raised not to believe them. But as a child, he dreamed of being able to live in the city above; a place he was only able to visit in secret. The spirit of rebellion grew in Salidar until ending Neredos''s reign once again became a dream worth realizing. Salidar''s entire rule became bent to those ends, and he would stop at nothing to claim The Everbright City as his own.


    His resources came from far and wide, from the Northern forests of the Gor, to the mountains of Braeg far to the south, as he searched everywhere for the answers that would grant him the power to take the Everbright City. He sent men to every nation, to consult with historians and mages, to piece together what had happened eight hundred years before. Most turned up only dead ends, but in time they were able to piece together that the answer lay in freeing the demons from their prisons. The search took new direction, and at long last Salidar came upon the solution in a grimoire of ancient magic.


    Though Salidar had never become a student of magic himself, his son, Maxthane, had been tutored by the finest enchanter that The Shade had to offer. When the grimoire was delivered to his son, the glimmer of excitement in Maxthane''s features had been more than enough repayment for acquiring the ancient tome in the first place, but when his son came back to him with the information that he had longed to hear; that had made it all the more worthwhile. It had led them to the alleyway in Pentalus.


    "Remind them that the longer we''re here the more chance we have of being discovered," Salidar said after a moment, "and they won''t like the result if we are."


    Fasha bowed and went to do as he was told, his step silent as he moved with deadly grace. When he arrived at the first of the magi and laid a hand on the mage''s robed shoulder, the mage pulled away and reached for the knife on his belt before realizing that it was Fasha. The magi stopped their murmuring and listened as Fasha relayed Salidar''s message. One of the magi looked over his shoulder and smiled at Salidar; a youth of eighteen, bare-chested with a black dhoti covering his legs. Black tattoos decorated most of his bare flesh, except for a large patch on his right shoulder. Maxthane was the most experienced mage in the group despite his young age, and should have been in control, but the other magi had been letting their years override their wisdom.


    Where the other magi were cowed by the threat that Fasha delivered, Maxthane immediately took the opening provided by Fasha''s admonishment and seized control of the situation. He barked orders at the other magi that they rushed to follow, hearing the command in Maxthane''s voice and not wishing to incur the wrath of Salidar. With a satisfied nod Maxthane rose from the circle and walked toward Salidar.


    "I see you took advantage of the situation. Well done," Salidar commended, resting a hand on Maxthane''s bare shoulder and feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers. "Now, tell me about the ritual. How close are we?"


    "Extremely close. Dulgek seemed to think that the circle needed to be drawn further out even though it is unnecessary. If we pulled it back as far as he wanted, we would run into the walls," Maxthane explained. He rolled his eyes as he locked his gaze on the eldest of the magi behind him, Dulgek. In Maxthane''s sudden absence from the group the mage was beginning to argue with the other magi again, though a quick look up at Fasha who was still watching over them silenced him again. Maxthane chuckled dryly and turned back to Salidar, his eyes suddenly showing their uncertainty as he bit his lower lip and asked in a whisper, "Father, what do we do if it doesn''t work?"


    "We go back to the drawing board, Max," Salidar replied with a light laugh, though he could feel in his bones that they were on the right track. "I''m sure the answer still lies in the grimoire, even if it isn''t as readily apparent as it seems to be. You''ll go back to studying it, and I''ll go back to looking for answers elsewhere." He shrugged and looked at Maxthane, squeezing his shoulder tightly and raised his other hand in front of him, his elbow bent as he clenched his fist in determination. "There has to be a way to free the demons even if it has been lost to time, Max. Neredos can''t have removed all traces of the magic capable of undoing his immortality from the face of the world. Even his influence does not reach that far."This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "What about the implications of what we''re doing?" Maxthane asked slowly and deliberately, "The demons nearly destroyed the world before. Are we so sure that we can stop that if things get out of hand?"


    "Are we back to arguing the morality of our actions?" Salidar replied. The argument was an old one, and he took a deep breath and calmed himself before going on to make the same point he always made, "Neredos cannot be allowed to rule any longer than he already has. We are taking every precaution available. It''s not like we''re going to free them all today."


    "I know," Maxthane admitted shaking his head and meeting Salidar''s eyes with a tight smile as he offered, "Perhaps I''m just worried."


    "You''ll do fine," Salidar insisted as he squeezed Maxthane''s shoulder before releasing it. "You''ve been training for this for quite some time. I''m sure you can handle it."


    "Thank you for your confidence, father," Maxthane replied with a formal bow. "I''ll return to assisting the magi now. It''s time that we began the ritual."


    Salidar watched with pride as his son rejoined the others and assumed command. Under Maxthane''s confident direction the magi quickly finished their work of drawing the circle of runes. As long as the circle remained unmarred it would function, but a thunderclap above them reminded Salidar again that time was not on their side. It was almost as if the clouds above were protesting their attempt to free the demon within the pillar. Whether the rain came or not, Salidar still intended to go through with the ritual. He could not bear to wait any longer; he had to know if this would work.


    He smiled as Maxthane looked back at him for confirmation to proceed, once the last line had been drawn. Salidar nodded, and received the same gesture back, accompanied by a determined smile. Maxthane knelt just outside the circle and began to chant in ancient Gor; a language that had not been spoken in Pentalus for centuries.


    The very walls around them seemed to quake with the force of the arcane words as they left Maxthane''s mouth, and when the other magi joined in, Salidar swore that it felt as if the earth beneath his feet was about to open up and swallow them all, sending them back down to The Shade where they belonged. As quickly as it had begun the quaking subsided, and to Salidar''s delight the pillar of fog began to dissipate.


    "It seems to be working," Maxthane said, breaking his chant for a moment, to spur on his fellows, "Keep it up, men. We''re almost there."


    The fog began to thin and Salidar laughed in delight as an arm of the demon came into view. Its fearsome, jagged claws, which extended from the back of its hand, were poised to strike downward, as if it had been frozen in the throes of battle. His heart skipped a beat as the arm began to move. At first it was just a twitch, but as the fog continued to disappear, more of the body came into view, and the mind of the demon seemed to gain control of its extremities. Soon it was flexing and stretching muscles that had not been used in centuries.


    And then its eyes came into view, four orbs of bright white light gleaming through the last few wisps of fog. The fog cleared the rest of the way and the whole creature was revealed. It stood two heads taller than the average man, which put it at a similar size to the ferocious Elroks, with its wide bulk matching that of the Elroks as well. Its four-eyed head roared as it fully awoke, the sound every bit as ominous as the thunderclap that accompanied it, and revealed a maw filled with sharp teeth that resembled those of an alligator. The horns that extended from the sides of its head and curved to point forward were much larger than those of any bull, and resembled nothing that Salidar had ever seen.


    "It''s free!" Salidar shouted as his pulse began to race and adrenaline surged through his veins. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for years to see. "Now men, hold it!"


    His soldiers rushed toward the beast with catchpoles ready, but the demon was already striking downward, clawed fist moving fast toward Maxthane''s skull. Salidar called out to his son and took several quick steps toward him and Maxthane jumped far back from the circle''s perimeter, giving Salidar a complete view of the demon and simultaneously causing him to gasp at an unexpected sight.


    Lying at the demon''s feet was a warrior, who had blocked the demon''s long-frozen strike with metal bracers guarding his forearms, the points of the claws barely an inch from piercing the flesh of his neck. The warrior, who appeared middle-aged, was dressed in a manner that Salidar didn''t recognize; an outfit of tightfitting black cloth with worn metal bracers over his arms and shins. The dark tone of his skin led Salidar to believe the man might be from the western desert, though he could have been from some more distant land.


    One of Salidar''s soldiers caught the demon''s other arm with his catchpole, distracting its attention away from the man on the ground before it, which allowed the warrior an opportunity to slip out from under the demon. He rolled away quickly and jumped to his feet, assuming a stance that would impress anyone familiar with combat, and then turned to face his demonic opponent without showing any fear. If he had any suspicion that the other humans around him might be enemies, he didn''t show it.


    The demon wrestled the first catchpole out of the soldier''s hands, lifting the man off his feet. It then tried to step toward him to deliver a blow with its claws but stopped in its tracks as it reached the edge of the circle of chalk. It roared in rage as it shook its head in an attempt to fight through the magic that was keeping it compelled to stay within the bounds of the circle.


    The next few catchpoles swung its way but were knocked aside without finding any purchase on the leathery skin of the beast, and Salidar was becoming frustrated. "Hold it steady, dammit!" He called out, his voice nearly masked by the thunderclap that erupted above them. "We are running out of time!"


    The warrior turned and regarded Salidar with curiosity. "Hold it?" He asked. "Very well." He rushed back into the circle, sliding under the demon''s legs so that he was behind the beast. Once he was out of the demon''s sight he jumped onto its back and then reached around its thick neck to put the demon into a chokehold. This enraged the demon even further, and it thrashed backward with its claws in an attempt to get the warrior off its back, but its arms were not made to bend that far and the demon couldn''t quite reach him.


    The soldiers managed to get their catchpoles in place while the demon was distracted, first catching the demon''s legs and then its arms as it toppled to the ground. Within seconds the demon was bound by the catchpoles, though it continued struggling against them and the grip of the man on its back. It was steadily losing steam as the warrior cut off its air supply. Not a minute later the demon collapsed to the ground, its strength spent as it slipped into unconsciousness.


    Maxthane and the other magi quickly moved in, their long and thick syringes at the ready as they pricked the skin of the demon and began to drain its blood. The warrior watched curiously as he released the demon and came to stand by Salidar. His soldiers watched the warrior warily, but since Salidar was making no defensive moves nor ordering them to do so on his behalf, they remained where they were, binding the arms and legs of the demon with strong metal cords while the magi did their part of the work.


    "I have never seen this strategy in fighting demons," the warrior remarked as he looked at the demon and the men moving around beside it. His accent was thick, and nothing like that of the men of the desert that Salidar had met in the past, leaving him to believe that his guess about the warrior''s origins were wrong. The warrior shook his head and then took a look at his surroundings, and his eyes widened as he noticed the walls of the buildings around them. "Where is this place? How did I arrive here?"


    "You are in the city of Pentalus. I assume there was no city when you arrived," Salidar said with an amused smile. He turned to look at Fasha who was watching the warrior with a dangerous frown. Although the warrior had already helped them, it was obvious to Salidar that Fasha didn''t like the warrior. He was gripping the kris tucked into his belt and took a step toward Prism but Salidar raised his hand to stall Fasha and the assassin took the hint. He had resumed his original position of watching the demon as the warrior shook his head in response to Salidar''s question, his gaze still locked on the buildings around him. "You''ve been sealed with that demon for a long time I''m afraid; almost eight hundred years."


    "Sealed? You mean, the strategy worked?" The warrior replied with a sudden smile, "I must congratulate Neredos on his victory then!" His eyes narrowed as he continued, "But if the demons are sealed," He paused as he turned to Salidar and asked with a deadly calm, "Then why are you freeing them?"


    "That is a matter to discuss later, when we are safely back at my home," Salidar offered, though the warrior''s question made him wary. "Would you care to accompany me there?"


    "Home. I''ve not thought of home since the demons invaded. I''ve been on the front lines for almost as long as I can remember," the warrior replied wistfully, and then smiled again as he agreed, "Yes, I think I would like that. I am Grandmaster Prism, from Ultaka."


    "I am Salidar thulu''Khant, of The Shade," Salidar replied, extending his arm for Prism to shake. Prism took his arm and grasped it firmly as Salidar added, "Well met, Grandmaster Prism. We will be departing shortly."


    "We''ve got enough," Salidar heard Maxthane say, as if in agreement with his father''s statement. "Let''s move. Get the materials ready."


    The two men watched as another rune circle was drawn on the ground, though this one was much smaller than the first and drawn in more modern runes than the arcane Gor runes that had been used before. The drawn blood of the demon was poured into a cauldron that was set in the center of the circle. Maxthane was chanting as he mixed the blood with several other ingredients, among them indigo ink made for tattooing. Salidar moved to stand by his son to offer any support that Maxthane needed. His son finished chanting as the mixture in the cauldron began to glow with an eerie blue light. The enchantment had taken hold and the ink was ready to be used.


    "Father, are you sure about this?" Maxthane asked. The sheen of sweat coated Maxthane''s brow and Salidar realized how nervous his son actually was. He glanced at the demon and realized that Maxthane had every right to be nervous. It wasn''t every day that one became blood-bound to a demon and made it his familiar.


    "I''m sure," Salidar said with a nod, but he continued to watch Maxthane with concern as he asked, "Are you ready?"


    "Ready as I''ll ever be," Maxthane replied as he wiped his brow. He looked to the magi standing a few feet away and nodded. "Go ahead."


    Salidar watched with satisfaction as the three magi moved into position beside his son. They took out their tattoo kits and divided the now enchanted ink between them, and then set to work on tattooing the flesh of Maxthane''s right bicep. Having gone through tattooing many times before, Maxthane was used to the pain, but the anxiety of having this particular tattoo done was starting to get to him after suffering through the first fifteen minutes. It didn''t help his mood at all when he heard the demon stir in the circle not far away.


    Prism''s face was nearly unreadable, but Salidar watched his eyes and saw the suspicion hidden there. Salidar paused for a moment to consider that suspicion, and realized that Prism, being from a different time, would have a different perspective on the matter at hand. Before today neither he nor any of his men had ever seen a demon, much less tried to capture one, and it was a testament to their training and discipline that they had not cracked under the pressure. It was a testament to Maxthane''s discipline, as well, that he did not react when the demon roared in protest as it came back to consciousness.


    "Why are you doing this?" Prism asked Salidar, keeping one eye on the demon as it struggled against the bindings that held it. While his tone was emotionless, the suspicion in his eyes had only intensified.


    "We are attempting to harness the power of the demon for our benefit," Salidar explained, choosing his words carefully. "If this ritual is successful, then Maxthane will be able to control the demon."


    Prism nodded simply, apparently accepting the answer, and Salidar turned his attention back to his son. The three magi, each of whom was a master at the craft of inscribing magical tattoos, had completed the bulk of their work and were making finishing touches. Salidar leaned down to Maxthane''s ear and whispered, "Well, son, what do you think? How does it feel?"


    "It''s more power than I''ve ever experienced before, but I think I can handle it," Maxthane replied. The magi finished their work and stepped away. To test the strength of his new bond to the demon, Maxthane extended his will toward the creature and commanded it to stop struggling. Almost immediately the beast stopped moving and glared menacingly in Maxthane''s direction. He glanced at Salidar and then back to the demon as he whispered, "You were right."


    "It will get easier with time," Salidar insisted, patting his son on the shoulder, and then, eyeing Prism, he whispered so that only his son could hear, "We just have to hope that everyone else will be ready before we unleash the rest of them."


    Another thunderclap erupted overhead, adding its ominous rumble as a backdrop to Salidar''s whisper. They would proceed with the plan, that much was now certain. As the rain began to fall and wash away the circles of chalk, Salidar couldn''t help but laugh. The protection was no longer necessary with the demon chained and Maxthane in control of its actions. Why had he ever been worried?

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 2: The Eyes of the Hawk Arent Sharp Enough

    Styx was nothing but a shadow to eyes untrained to darkness. Fortunately for Styx he had spent all of his nineteen years in The Shade, the sprawling mass of caverns and holes that lay beneath the city of Pentalus; the den of those who were unwanted in the clean and lighted streets above. His eyes were well accustomed to piercing the darkness, though he did have the edge that many of the Shades had as well. The Shadesight tattoo at the side of his left eye was infused with the blood of a small rodent that lived in the depths, and granted him the ability to see in ways that his human heritage did not. Seeing in the darkness was never a problem for most Shades.


    The structure in front of Styx sat high in the wall of the grand cavern, a pit so deep that if he dropped a stone from its top he would never hear it hit the bottom. That was enough for most non-natives to stay as far away from the edges of the pit as possible, though generations of people living in The Shade had carved out dwellings into the high walls of the cavern, and had likewise carved homes into the large pillars that supported the roof of the cave. The Shade was a city to rival Pentalus all on its own, and it teemed with life; if one could call the existence of those who lived there, ''life'', instead of mere ''survival''.


    Far beneath him lay the lower levels of The Shade, which housed the majority of its populace. Though torches and lamps dotted the cavern floor on occasion, they did little to fight away the oppressing darkness that filled the great expanse. Nefarious business was done in the shadows more often than it was done in the light, and the darkness gave ample opportunity for those with the urge to take advantage of their neighbors without detection. The Shade was dark, damp, and dirty, and only those who had the skill to survive on their own would do so. Everyone in The Shade served their own interests first, and rarely served another''s at all, unless it would also benefit them.


    The upper levels of The Shade held little interest for the thieves and scoundrels who made up most of the denizens of the lower depths. They preferred to distance themselves from Pentalus unless they had business with its inhabitants or were working a heist in the city. Styx appreciated their apprehension; there were pickings in this section that no one even realized. He had spent the last two years clearing out abandoned buildings in the Upper Shade, looking for hidden stashes and long forgotten relics. His wealth had grown significantly, and he was considering starting his own guild if he could find anyone worth sharing his interests. He had distanced himself from nearly everyone he knew and only met with others when he fenced his acquisitions. Friends were hard to come by in The Shade.


    Styx had been casing the structure for the better part of the month, and knew it for the drop point that it was. He had been clearing out a dwelling on a pillar some twenty yards inside from the cavern wall, when he had noticed a portly old merchant from Pentalus entering the stone structure. He watched from a window as the merchant and his bodyguards walked cautiously through the entrance, fear evident in every step they took. Styx had stifled a laugh at the man''s trepidation, not wanting to scare the old man off. Other than the few who still lived in the Upper Shade the region was virtually empty, and the merchant had nothing to fear. Styx''s curiosity was piqued as he realized what that meant; the merchant had no reason to be there unless he had business with one of the lower denizens.


    Where there was business in The Shade there was also profit to be made by those on the sidelines, if they had the nerve to take advantage of it. Styx had watched a merchant make weekly deliveries; always at the same time, and always in the same manner. The merchant would walk down the steps to the entrance; his movements encumbered by something heavy which Styx assumed to be a large sum in coins. The merchant would then move to the upper level of the structure where Styx could observe him through the window as he put several sacks in the corner of the upper room. Then the merchant would leave the building, his footsteps lighter, though his trepidation was anything but. He was still looking over his shoulder as he took the path back up the staircase to Pentalus.


    It was always a few minutes later that another man arrived from lower levels to retrieve the sacks, as if he had been watching for the drop, from somewhere in the shadows of the stone steps that skirted the wall and led toward the bottom of the cavern. Although the cloaked figure was watching the house the whole time, Styx assumed that he would be watching the entrance and not the window on the second level. It was that same window that Styx would use to pull off his heist. The only problem he faced was crossing the distance over the pit between the pillar and the structure. Thankfully he had just the thing to accomplish that task.


    As soon as the merchant came into view, Styx went into action. He climbed higher up the pillar to gain a greater vantage on the drop, and then waited for the right opportunity. Seeing the merchant leave the building, Styx grinned as he pushed his dark hair back and touched the hawk tattoo on his cheek, causing the magic inside the blood-infused design to come alive. He jumped from the pillar toward the blackness of the pit. The rush of freefall ended quickly as the spirit of the hawk stored within the tattoo slowed his fall. Styx extended his arms as he dived toward the structure, releasing the leathery membrane he had attached to his clothing to help him glide. He gained control of his trajectory as the membrane caught the draft running through the cavern. Combined with the influence of the hawk he easily cleared the gap between the pillar and the structure''s window.


    Styx landed quietly and balanced on the windowsill, his eyes taking stock of the small room. The room reeked of dust, but it was a scent that Styx was well used to and he ignored it as his eyes settled on the goods. The sacks sat in the same corner they always did and he wasted no time in moving toward them. As he picked up the first sack he found that it was even heavier than he had expected. He knew the weight of coins as well as he knew his own weight; something was wrong.


    He opened the sack and peered inside, and his heart fell. It wasn''t money after all, but instead small arrowheads made of an unusual black metal. Whatever purpose they were intended for, it wouldn''t do him much good unless he could sell them. His grin returned as he considered that option. They were obviously valuable if they were going through this much trouble for these drops.


    His backpack was off and opened in a few seconds and he quickly shoveled the objects inside. He had just finished emptying the last sack when he sensed someone coming up the stairs behind him. There was no doubt in his mind that he had allowed himself enough time for a clean escape, based on the time it always took the cloaked recipient to climb the stairs. That left only one possibility; he had been expected.


    Drawing his dagger, Styx turned around to face his opponent and screamed in pain as a knife whistled through the air to pierce his weapon hand, causing him to drop his blade. "You''re good, boy. Coming through the window was a great idea," the cloaked man said as he stepped toward Styx, another knife ready to throw, his other hand resting casually on the hilt of his sheathed kukri. Though the hood of his cloak blocked his face, the man''s foreign accent had given his identity away. It was Dogo the Watchdog, the most notorious bounty hunter of The Shade. Dogo was from a distant land, though he had resided primarily in The Shade for as long as Styx had been alive, and his manner of fighting was foreign enough that he often had surprises that those born and raised in The Shade could not deal with.


    Styx didn''t have time to wonder what The Watchdog was doing on a job like this. He had to get out of there or he was going to be captured, or killed, depending on Dogo''s orders. He eyed his backpack as he considered trying to take it with him, but he knew that it was going to be a longshot getting out of there even without the heavy goods.


    He grimaced as he pulled the knife out of his hand, though he expected the pain and managed to keep from vocalizing it. He wielded the weapon in his right hand, though he wasn''t used to it there. If needed he could still throw from that hand with reasonable accuracy, but he was already at a severe disadvantage. Styx eyed Dogo warily as he slowly stood up straight, but to his surprise Dogo stayed still except for tracking him with his eyes.


    "What are those things?" Styx asked, with a nod toward the backpack full of arrowheads. He took a step back, away from Dogo and toward the window. Dogo didn''t drop his gaze at all, and kept his attention fully on Styx.


    "I honestly have no idea, Styx," Dogo replied gruffly. Styx stumbled as he heard his name on Dogo''s lips. Dogo noticed the movement and chuckled before asking, "What, you''re surprised that I know your name?"


    "I wasn''t aware I''d acquired enough of a reputation to attract the attention of one such as you," Styx answered as he inched closer to the window. He could feel the cool draft of the cavern upon his skin and smell the damp air. His heart was pounding in his chest loud enough that he was sure Dogo could hear it, and he focused on the air coming from the window and used it to calm himself. He was close, and he couldn''t let his nerves ruin his chance of escape.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "You haven''t. Don''t fool yourself," Dogo replied with a sneer. "However, you do have a reputation. It didn''t take much digging to find out who was watching this drop point. You have the makings of a great thief." Dogo''s tone sent a shiver down Styx''s spine as he added, "If you live."


    "So you are going to kill me then," Styx replied. He shook his head and let his shoulders slump a little, giving the appearance of being defeated. He shifted his feet slightly so that he could spring toward the window if Dogo moved toward him. It was unlikely he''d be able to escape before Dogo managed to hit him with another knife but he was going to try. Anything was better than letting someone kill you.


    "No, I''m going to take you back to Salidar," Dogo answered. Styx''s heart began to beat even quicker than it had before, and he felt drops of sweat upon his brow that then trickled down his face. Salidar was the Underking, the true seat of power in The Shade. If Styx was captured he would be tortured before he died, or worse; he could be thrown into the gladiator pits. If Styx had known that this drop was under Salidar''s jurisdiction he would have stayed as far away from it as he could.


    Even if he did manage to escape Dogo he''d be hunted down if he remained in The Shade. He''d have to leave the city or he''d eventually be captured or killed, and he''d prefer the latter if capture meant facing torture by Salidar. He wasn''t going to wait around for Dogo to make the decision for him. He sprung for the window, the sudden movement earning a quick response from Dogo as a knife flew past his head, and then Styx jumped through and into the cavern as another knife grazed his thigh.


    He activated his hawk tattoo again as he flung himself back out into the darkness and began banking toward the nearest pillar. Even though it meant abandoning all the wealth he had acquired, he knew a passageway to the surface from that pillar, which he could reach long before he was intercepted, and he''d be out of The Shade within the hour. Wealth was worth nothing if it meant losing his life.


    Styx sighed in relief as he neared the rooftop of one of the structures built on the side of the pillar, knowing that he was free. It was then that he felt the bola wrap around him, ending his flight at just the right moment to drag him heavily down to the rooftop he had seen as his sanctuary. Now it served as his prison as he struggled against the cords of the bola that were completely wrapped around his body. The initial strike of the bola had caused him to drop the knife from his hand, but he had another blade hidden in his boot. He started to maneuver his bound form around in an attempt to draw it, hoping to cut himself free before Dogo arrived.


    Styx quickly gave into despair as he heard grunting from a man climbing onto the rooftop with him, and then the sound of footsteps as the newcomer moved to Styx''s side and rolled him over onto his back. It wasn''t Dogo, but the black leather armor indicated that it was one of Salidar''s operatives. He stomped on Styx''s hand and crushed his fingers into the stone beneath him which abruptly ended his attempt to draw the dagger from his boot. Styx yelled in pain and tried to withdraw his hand, but the newcomer only pressed down harder with a sadistic smile.


    "Stop struggling," the newcomer ordered, continuing to grind Styx''s hand beneath his boot until Styx stopped writhing. "You''re only going to make your fate worse."


    No more words were spoken between them. The newcomer had little interest in him beyond his capture and Styx was too terrified to speak. In his short life he had been in many tough situations but he had never incurred the wrath of Salidar. To do so was suicide.


    Dogo arrived a moment later, climbing atop the roof with ease. He kept a careful watch on the other man as he pulled some rope from his belt and began to tie Styx before removing the bolas and replacing it on his belt. He hoisted Styx onto his shoulder and then said to his associate, "Go collect the drop in the building across the way. Don''t dally, and make sure that you don''t lose any or I''ll kill you myself. I won''t have Salidar on my case because you fouled this up."


    The other man nodded and hopped off of the roof. Dogo waited a minute before he shifted Styx into a more comfortable position on his shoulder and then started his own trek down the pillar. As Dogo descended he began whistling a happy tune. Styx found the sound incredibly unnerving, wondering why anyone would whistle while they took a kid to his executioner. The whistling kept him distracted enough that he was unable to think straight, and by the time they reached the bottom of the pillar and Dogo set Styx down for a moment he had come up with no plans to escape.


    "You know, you might be okay, kid."


    Styx had been ignoring Dogo, and the sudden empathetic speech caught him off guard. The bounty hunter was eyeing him with curiosity. "You''re smart, and you''re tricky," Dogo continued, "You might be able to survive."


    "No one survives the wrath of Salidar," Styx replied without hesitation, narrowing his eyes. Dogo''s eyes flashed with amusement as Styx added, "I don''t have any need or desire for your false hope."


    "It''s not false hope, and your assumptions are not true," Dogo insisted. "Salidar isn''t as evil as you think, kid. He gives everyone a sporting chance to escape, and if you escape you earn your life."


    "How come I''ve never heard of that? Has no one ever escaped before?" Styx asked, rolling his eyes.


    "There have been few," Dogo admitted with a smile that appeared wistful to Styx. Styx was about to ask if Dogo was referring to himself when Dogo continued, "Trust me, kid. I think you''re capable enough to get out. You probably wouldn''t have been caught if I hadn''t been the one handling the drop point." He sighed and looked away. Styx followed his gaze and saw the distant lights of Salidar''s complex as Dogo began speaking again. "Anyway, it''s time to get going again. I promised Salidar I''d have you there by the end of the day."


    Before Styx could protest he was hoisted back onto Dogo''s shoulder and Dogo started walking again. Styx''s heart was pounding as they reached the Lower Shade. This area was always well lit and was the section where most of the people lived. Salidar had almost complete control here, and his operatives were everywhere.


    Dogo was whistling again as he carried Styx through the marketplace. Though Styx normally would have felt self-conscious about being handled in that manner in plain view, he knew that the people nearby were minding their own business and weren''t watching. From the path that Dogo was taking, he could only be heading toward Salidar''s complex. Paying too much attention to what Salidar or his men were doing was enough to get you killed if you were watching at the wrong time. For most people, that was enough for them to avert their eyes anytime Salidar was involved.


    It didn''t take long for them to make it to the narrow wooden bridge that led to the heart of Salidar''s domain. The bridge spanned a great chasm, carved by the runoff from the lake that dominated a large section of the Lower Shade, and it was guarded by a pair of large armored trolls; Elroks. Dogo wasn''t stopped as he stepped past them, and nodded in greeting, as if he knew them well. They growled with contempt as Dogo continued.


    Styx gained new respect for Dogo: anyone willing to fearlessly face an Elrok was a brave man indeed. This was the first time that Styx had been close to an Elrok, preferring to keep his distance from anything that could kill him easily with a single blow. He watched their broad forms as they returned to a more stoic position, amazed at how large they actually were. Their stone-like grey skin only made them seem larger, as if they were boulders that could crush a man simply by rolling over him. He cursed under his breath as he realized that if he did attempt to escape he would most likely have to pass by them again.


    Styx noticed he was being put down again as they reached the other side of the bridge, though this time Dogo cut his leg bonds. He was about to question what was happening when he realized exactly where they were. They were standing in front of the heavy iron doors that marked the gateway to Salidar''s palace. Four more Elroks stood by the doorway, while human archers stood atop the walls above the doors, eyeing the pair warily.


    "You will stand now, Styx, and face judgment," Dogo explained simply, as he straightened and looked toward the top of the wall, regarding the archers with wariness to match theirs. "Salidar will be with us shortly."


    True to Dogo''s words, the doors opened wide and a small troop of men walked out to meet them. Salidar, dressed in the black leathers that served as a uniform for the Underking''s guild, did not look as most would consider a king should appear, though he walked with a sense of confidence that would outmatch any royalty. Another man walked at his right, dressed in tightly wrapped black cloth that covered him from head to toe, and Styx assumed that if he were not in the torchlight the man would be nearly invisible, even to Styx''s tattoo-assisted eyesight. He was sure that this was Fasha, Salidar''s right hand man and chief assassin; one of the most notorious men in The Shade. On the other side was a youth who appeared to be of similar age to Styx, and who wore nothing on his upper body, displaying instead a myriad of tattoos across his flesh that Styx assumed were magical. If Styx hadn''t been scared for his life he would have found the youth attractive, but he couldn''t process much beyond the thought that these would be his executioners. He recognized the youth as Maxthane thulu''Khant, prince of The Shade. He was the last person Styx wanted to entangle himself with regardless of how attractive he may be.


    "This is the boy that almost evaded the watchful eye of Dogo?" Salidar questioned, regarding Styx with his piercing gaze as he stepped toward the youth. He reached out with his hand to cup Styx''s face which caused Styx to flinch. Salidar grasped Styx''s chin anyway and looked him in the eye. Styx found something unexpected in the green orbs that met his own blue ones¡ªcompassion, though it was buried beneath a great deal of mischief.


    He didn''t have much time to contemplate the complex mix of emotions as Salidar decreed his fate, causing him to forget about anything else. "Throw the boy in the pit. Let''s see how he fares against our new monster, shall we?"

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 3: Hope in the Dark

    With Dogo no longer escorting him, Styx found himself being dragged by black-leather-armored men on either side of him. It was the first time Styx had ever been inside the palace, and he knew that it was also likely to be his last. He was being taken to the gladiator pit, one of the most notorious sites in all of The Shade. Escape was no longer an option; no one escaped the pit, though he had heard that on occasion someone was let go if he fared well enough for long enough. Fighters who always won tended to bore the crowd, and eventually earned their freedom by fighting too well.


    Styx knew that he had little chance of that. He had never been much of a fighter, preferring to avoid conflict instead. He could hold his own against a common thug if it came to it, but that was always his last resort. Being quick and quick-witted were what he considered to be his only real assets, and he was wounded now as well. They reached another set of large iron doors being guarded by a particularly large Elrok. The Elrok bared its teeth in a sinister smile as it glared at Styx before opening the door and then laughed as Styx was led through, sending shivers down his spine.


    Iron bars became the norm as the walls were lined with cages of varying sizes, though all were large enough to hold a man. The scent of livestock filled his nostrils as he surveyed the cages. Most contained beasts he recognized from stories, like lions from the nearby plains, though a few held things that he had never seen before. Large felines and canines, a particularly ferocious lizard; none were things he ever wanted to cross paths with. Styx was forced toward the far side of the room where a smaller door in the wall was guarded by a man in dark metal armor resembling the chiton of a beetle.


    The ''beetle'' guard leaned against the door, tapping it occasionally with his massive black sword, held unsheathed in his hands. His sadistic grin caused Styx to shudder as they approached. "Fresh blood, eh? I''m sure he''ll fit right in," the ''beetle'' guard said with a laugh as he moved to unbar the door. "All right, fighters," he called through the door, "I''m only going to warn ya once, anyone who rushes the door, dies. I''ve got a new friend for ya."


    The door swung outward and Styx was shoved hard enough to fall to the cold stone floor on the other side. With his hands still bound behind his back he was unable to catch himself and he ended up with a mouthful of dirt and grime. He came up sputtering to clear his mouth of the sickening taste and raised his head to survey the room. Where he had expected darkness to greet him he encountered light instead. Lamps lit the walls of the room at regular intervals, and were bright enough to bathe both the room and the people within it in a somber orange glow. The room smelled of sweat and feces. In the corner of the room stood a latrine with a narrow ventilation shaft above it, identifying the source of the latter scent.


    There were upwards of fifty people in the room by his first estimation, and each one seemed to be sizing him up. They were quiet; watching him as a group, as if in a ritual greeting to someone being flung into the cell. These would be his fellow gladiators, the people who he might face in the ring if he didn''t get paired against a beast instead. He didn''t expect any help from any of them in getting out of there. Much to his surprise, almost as soon as the ''beetle'' guard slammed the door shut behind him, Styx was being helped to his feet and the bonds around his wrists were being removed.


    He cautiously eyed the two who had come to help him, a man and a woman. Not just any man, Styx thought as he took a longer look. The man was a Fedain. Though physically similar to humans, there were a few noticeable differences, if perceived in normal light, that were even more apparent in near darkness. His skin sparkled as if it contained flecks of diamond dust, and his pale eyes seemed to radiate light as well, adding an extra sheen to his long platinum hair as it caught the glow in front of his face. His ears were slightly pointed as well, though not nearly as sharp as those of the wild Gor tribes, of which Styx had only ever met one. The Fedain were not much more common than the Gor in Pentalus and even rarer in The Shade. They had a predisposition toward medicine and healing and were rarely on the wrong side of the law.


    The woman seemed plain and was certainly human. Human women were also less common in The Shade, though far from unheard of. The most recent census indicated that men outnumbered women five to one in the depths. She had dark hair that was pulled back into an intricate braid. She almost appeared regal, if he could ignore the dirt that covered her face and arms, and the tattered clothes she wore. She bore the Shadesight tattoo beside her left eye which marked her as a Shade, a tattoo which Styx now realized had been missing from the Fedain''s face. He looked back to the Fedain and found him smiling encouragingly, whereas the woman''s face had been unreadable, and as soon as Styx''s bonds were loosened she returned to stand with the crowd.


    Another man stepped forward, and judging by his posture and the look in his eyes, Styx knew this was the leader of this group of ragtag fighters. He was large and muscular, and he walked with a grace that promised he was also swift in combat. He was not a man that Styx would ever dream of crossing and he paid careful attention as the leader spoke, wanting to glean any information he could on how to stay on his good side. "Welcome, kid," the leader said in a gruff voice, "The name''s Kutos, originally from Pentalus, but more recently of the Black Docks. We need to cover some rules before you get settled, all right?"


    Styx nodded firmly, meeting Kutos'' eyes. It was partially to make sure the man knew that he was listening but also to avoid showing fear. Brutes like Kutos thrived on fear. That was the last thing Styx wanted to show him, especially if the man had worked at the Black Docks. The Black Docks was a notorious thieves'' guild that made its home at the shore of the lake at the bottom of the Lower Shade. Strange and evil things lived in those waters.


    "Number one: you need anything, you come and see me. That includes getting help from Grim," Kutos explained, gesturing toward the Fedain who was currently examining Styx''s hand. The bleeding from the knife wound had stopped, but it was still quite painful. The pain dulled as Grim began to gently rub the cut between his soft fingers and within seconds it was little more than a thin red line. It was the first time that Styx had experienced being healed by a Fedain, and he looked at Grim with wide eyes before Kutos cleared his throat loudly to reclaim his attention.


    "Number two," Kutos began again, glaring at Styx. "Your age is irrelevant. You have done something to incur the wrath of Salidar and that has brought you here. We don''t protect the younger ones just because of their age. Salidar wouldn''t put you in the pit if he didn''t think you''d put on a good show, so we know that you''re capable. Don''t fall behind or you will die."


    Styx took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. He didn''t like how this was going, but at least he wasn''t being told that his body would be used for their pleasure. He had always feared that would be his fate if he were ever imprisoned.


    Kutos wasn''t finished, and this last rule caught Styx off guard. "When we have team matches we fight as a team. No one wants to die down here and it''s better if we work together. Any blows you take in the ring to gain an advantage over your fellow fighters will be returned to you tenfold when we get back here. If you kill another fighter when he is not your opponent then we promise that your death will take much longer. We work together, understood?"


    Styx nodded emphatically. He wanted to survive, and there was little chance of that if he angered his fellow prisoners. Kutos accepted his nod with one of his own, but before he turned away he added, "No one wants to die down here, and everyone deserves a chance to become good enough to fight their way out."


    As Kutos rejoined the others the crowd dispersed and ignored Styx, except for Grim who was still checking him over for wounds. "Thank you," Styx said to Grim, raising his injured hand.


    "It''s my job," Grim explained with a shrug before lightly touching Styx''s thigh where he had been grazed by Dogo''s knife. "We all have a role to play in this life; mine is to mend things that are broken."


    "I''ve not met many Fedain before and I''ve never been healed by one," Styx admitted. "How does it work?"


    Grim smiled patiently as he answered, "We have a natural connection to living things. All life is composed of smaller building blocks and given enough encouragement they will listen to someone who speaks their language. I simply asked your blood to stay inside you and asked your skin to close the wound."


    "That''s amazing!" Styx exclaimed, for which he received a couple looks in his direction from some of the other fighters. He covered his mouth and lowered his voice as he went on, "I have to say that I''m surprised to see a Fedain here. I wouldn''t expect you to have made an enemy of Salidar."


    "I didn''t. I crossed Fasha. Salidar''s assassin is a far more dangerous man than Salidar himself," Grim explained solemnly. He smirked and then chuckled dryly as he added, "Imagine how annoyed an assassin can be when you heal his dying victim."


    "It seems it is easier to incur Salidar''s wrath than I had originally thought," Styx muttered and received a wry smile in response. The smile became a laugh as Styx asked, "So I take it you aren''t much of a fighter then? How have you survived?"


    "By being the best healer imaginable," Grim replied pleasantly. "I''m too useful and Kutos won''t let me die. They protect me when we go out there, to fight whatever it is we have to fight, and I repay them with my abilities."


    "So that ''working as a team'' thing wasn''t just a ploy to make me vulnerable?" Styx asked, searching the room with his eyes to make sure Kutos wasn''t in earshot.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "No, that''s really how it works," Grim confirmed. His eyes turned dark and his earlier smirk returned as he added, "except in the one on one matches."


    "One on one . . ." Styx mused over the thought. He didn''t like the sound of that at all. He assumed he''d be able to fade into the background of a larger fight, but if he was forced to kill someone it would be a completely different story. He looked around the room, hoping that he wouldn''t have to face any of the other gladiators any time soon as he clarified, "You mean we have to fight each other?"


    "Sometimes, when the crowd calls for such a thing," Grim explained with a shrug. "Salidar normally doesn''t allow it, but he does what he has to in order to keep his subjects happy. The duties of a king . . ." Grim trailed off with a sigh. Grim looked back up and met his eyes, and Styx saw nothing but contempt for that philosophy. Styx couldn''t agree more.


    "Have you ever been in a match like that?" Styx asked and Grim''s eyes darkened at the question. He considered Grim''s earlier explanation about surviving by being the healer and his eyes widened as he asked, "How did you survive?"


    The sorrow in Grim''s eyes was strong enough that Styx could feel it boring into him through Grim''s gaze. "The powers of healing can work in reverse," he stated as his only explanation. Styx''s expression turned from one of curiosity to one of horror. After Grim''s earlier explanation of the healing process he could imagine Grim calling on his blood to leave his veins and for his skin to break apart. Few deaths would be more brutal than what he imagined Grim could do with such a power. Grim looked at Styx with tired eyes and sighed before saying, "Listen, kid . . ."


    "Styx," Styx interrupted, his horror subsiding enough for him to extend his hand toward Grim. He grinned at Grim, hoping that he hadn''t driven the Fedain away from becoming a potential ally.


    "Styx. Why don''t you get some rest, okay?" Grim suggested as he ignored the offered hand, choosing instead to pat him gently on the leather armor covering his shoulder. "I don''t know when you''re going to have to fight but it will be soon. Every time a new body gets thrown down here Salidar is eager to test them out and see how they do. Most likely it will be in a few hours. You''re going to need all the stamina you can get."


    "Thanks, Grim," Styx replied. He forced a smile to his face though his pulse was racing at the prospect of having to fight so soon.


    "It''s my job, Styx," Grim replied, reaffirming his earlier statement. He smiled in a way that didn''t touch his eyes as he offered, "You come see me if you need anything, regardless of what Kutos says. He''s just trying to make sure you know who the boss is down here."


    "I got it," Styx replied with a nod. "I suppose I''ll see you around?"


    "It''s a small room for fifty-two people to share," Grim replied with a laugh, "We''re going to be old friends by the time either of us gets out. Unless death takes us." Grim bowed his head slightly in farewell and walked back into the crowd. Thanks to Grim''s calm demeanor Styx had started to feel better about his situation, but as soon as Grim disappeared behind a couple of the other fighters Styx felt his anxiety begin to return.


    As anxiety set in, his thoughts became filled with questions about the future. Would he even survive long enough to escape as Dogo had suggested he try? Or would he succumb to the battles ahead before he even got the chance? He eyed the other fighters with suspicion, wondering if they were secretly plotting against him. There was a low murmur through the room as the other fighters talked amongst themselves, and their occasional glances at him could have been nothing more than curiosity, but he felt their eyes each time. He had never felt more vulnerable. Spying an open spot along the wall, he hurried toward it while trying to conceal his anxiety from those who could see him. As soon as he was at the wall he leaned his back up against the cold stone and took several deep breaths to calm himself.


    Even though the others continued to ignore him, it took a great deal of time for him to get his pounding heart under control. Eventually he sunk to the floor and withdrew into himself. Closing his eyes to his surroundings, he tried to push it all away and pretend that it didn''t exist; that he was anywhere but where he was.


    The pretense eventually allowed him to find rest, and he drifted off to sleep. Nightmares plagued him; dark dreams of being trapped and unable to move. Though the exact details escaped him they were all alike in playing on his fear. As the crushing despair of his entrapment grew too much, he awoke with a start only to find Kutos staring down at him. The large fighter''s expression was nearly unreadable though Styx detected a hint of compassion in his eyes.


    Their eyes remained locked for a moment until Kutos gave a slight nod of understanding and then turned to address the rest of the room. "All right, the new kid''s battle is up. It''s a three on one, favoring the gladiators. I''ll be going as well as Hurr. Meet at the gate in one minute." Kutos walked off without giving Styx a second glance.


    Styx rose to his feet, his muscles sore from sleeping against the hard wall. He stretched and then looked for where Kutos had gone. He didn''t see the large man, but the rest of the fighters were gathering at the opposite side of the room from the door he had been thrown through. Styx cautiously made his way across the room to join them.


    In the middle of the far wall was a portcullis and guards waiting on the other side to open it. All but one of the guards was dressed in the dyed black leathers that marked Salidar''s men. The other was the ''beetle'' warrior from the other door. His large sword once again in hand he eyed the gathered gladiators with contempt and proclaimed, "Only the three fighters destined to die remain where you are. The rest of you, move back! We will not open the gate while you remain so close." With a sadistic gleam in his eyes the ''beetle'' guard promised, "Waste our time, and one of you dies."


    "If he was just going to say that why did we all gather at the gate in the first place?" Styx grumbled under his breath, expecting his words to be masked by the commotion of the fighters moving backward.


    Kutos stepped up next to him and answered, "Shows of strength are how we survive down here. By showing a united front at the gate old Jakkel there knows that we are not intimidated." He looked down at Styx and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile as he added, "You''ve got a lot of spunk kid I''ll give you that, but spunk alone doesn''t keep you alive. I''m trying to help you, help everyone actually, and this is the only way I know how."


    "Thank you, I suppose. I would be scared to death right now if I were facing this alone," Styx admitted, causing Kutos'' smile to lose its edge.


    "When I was first thrown in here I was about your age. It was a mess down here. Everyone fought for themselves, and they didn''t know how to work together," Kutos explained. His face was grim, though he showed a fond smile the next moment as he went on, "Then another prisoner came. His name was Dogo. He united us, forced us to work together by being stronger than everyone else. He used fear at first, but that fear turned to respect as we all came on board. He made us all fighters. I suppose you could thank him for how it works down here now. I intend to win my freedom, but I also intend to help others do the same. That''s the legacy Dogo left us."


    "Dogo was a gladiator?" Styx asked, but was cut short of an answer by the portcullis sliding open and the ''beetle'' guard, Jakkel, beckoning them forward.


    "All right you three, come on," Jakkel commanded with a sneer. Regarding Styx with a sadistic gleam in his eye he added, "Ah, the little youngster. I hope for your sake that your first fight isn''t your last. I''d hate to see ya die so quickly."


    Jakkel''s expression left little doubt in Styx''s mind that it wouldn''t matter when he died, Jakkel would still enjoy it. He shuddered at the thought as the portcullis slammed shut after the trio had stepped through. He was sealed off from the closest thing to a safe haven that he had and was about to face something he knew would be horrific.


    They passed by Jakkel and came to another portcullis a short time later, this one guarded by four more men. As they approached, one of the men called for the grate to be opened. Styx was glad to find this section filled with armor and weaponry of varying types. He wasn''t going to be forced to face his doom unarmed.


    Kutos gestured toward the racks of equipment and said, "Get some gear if you want some, and a weapon or two. You only have a few minutes to gear up. You''re light and fast, so I recommend the armor you''re already wearing, but as for weapons . . ." Kutos trailed off as he scanned the racks. He shrugged as he picked up a broadsword and said, "You don''t want to weigh yourself down too much, but I still suggest a buckler at least, and a sword over a dagger. A bit of protection and a bit of reach will often go a long way in helping you win."


    Styx turned away and scanned the room. Since he was still wearing his leather armor which had proven to be more than suitable protection for him in the past, he focused on finding the right weapon. There was an assortment of knives and daggers which he knew could be of use to him, as well as several light blades. He settled on a rapier and two large throwing daggers, and lastly picked up a small leather buckler. As he finished strapping the buckler to his arm, he could hear the sound of a crowd cheering beyond a set of large iron doors, calling them to battle. He made a small inspection of his armor to make sure that the leather membrane he used for gliding was still intact before stepping up beside Kutos and nodding that he was ready.


    Jakkel grinned as he gestured toward the doors with his sword. "This way, fighters. Prepare to die," he said with a malicious chuckle. As if his words were the cue the doors opened wide and the whole chamber was bathed in light. When Styx''s eyes adjusted, he saw the arena before him; a circular chamber with stone walls stretching twenty feet high, and a large metal net attached to a frame serving as the ceiling. The crowd sat above the walls, peering through the netting and hungry for the show of bloodshed. There was a distinct stench of death, though it was old and starting to fade, and Styx realized it must have been some time since there had been a fight.


    With trepidation in every step Styx walked out into the arena alongside his two companions. Kutos had strapped on a breastplate and was carrying a large, round metal shield in one hand, and the broadsword in the other. The other man, whom Styx assumed was the aforementioned Hurr, had on a matching breastplate but instead of a sword was wielding a long spear held with both hands. Each of them bore the same expression of determination, and Styx took a deep breath and tried to get his feelings to match their expressions. His heart began to pound faster as his attempt failed.


    The iron doors slammed shut behind them and the eager crowd roared again in anticipation. Their roar was met by a much more terrifying one that seemed to come from behind the arena wall directly across from the gladiators. A section of wall slid open revealing the terrible source of the roar. It was larger than any living thing he had ever seen, even bigger than the Elroks guarding the bridge outside. It must have stood four heads taller than he was, and was at least four times as thick, if not thicker. Wicked claws extended from the back of both of its forearms, and the bull-like horns looked sharp while still being as thick as his leg. The most stunning feature of all, and the one that made Styx cower in fear, was the creature''s eyes, of which he had two pairs, giving him an almost alien appearance that caused his breath to catch in his chest.


    Styx took a moment to glance at his companions and what he saw made his heart fall. Their looks of determination had been replaced by ones of absolute terror. They knew what Styx felt; they were doomed. The beast roared again as if in challenge, and then lowered its head and charged. Styx closed his eyes and prayed to whatever gods would hear him that his death would be swift.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 4: A Battle of Wills

    "These are the six pillars we should focus on, based on their location," Fasha explained, pointing out the positions on the map of Pentalus with his finger. He had painstakingly made his way through Pentalus over the past few years, making sure that he knew the location of every single pillar of air, and only now was that knowledge finally coming into play. As much as Maxthane didn''t care for his father''s assassin, Fasha did have his uses.


    It had been two weeks since they had freed, then enslaved the demon, and their time had been filled with planning how to go about doing the same to more of them. They had reached a consensus as to which method they would employ to avoid detection, as well as which of the magi could be trusted to learn the rituals, but they had yet to settle on which pillars or even how many they would target.


    "I''m a bit concerned about our ability to pull off six at once, though we will know more after today," Salidar replied as he looked over the pillars that Fasha had selected. They had narrowed it down to twelve potential targets the day before, and only four of those were among the ones that Fasha had chosen now. It seemed to be a constant issue with him, being indecisive about which targets were prime and which weren''t, but for some reason Salidar trusted him to make the decision. Maxthane had never understood the relationship between his father and Fasha, though he also knew that Fasha had been in Salidar''s life for longer than Maxthane had. Whatever had started their friendship came from a past that Maxthane could not relate to.


    "Trust me, these six are the ones we want," Fasha replied firmly. Only Fasha was allowed to take such a firm tone with Salidar and get away with it. Maxthane gritted his teeth as he watched the exchange, unhappy that his father seemed to be nodding in agreement.


    "I don''t have enough men for that many targets," Salidar said, returning Fasha''s firmness. Maxthane was glad that his father hadn''t given in so easily. "If they are to be battling knights at the same time that they are trying to control the demons, I highly doubt we''ll succeed. Besides," he went on with a grimace, "We don''t actually know how strong the demons are. That one we brought down two weeks ago wouldn''t have been taken so easily if we hadn''t had Prism show up."


    "I''m normally not one to side with Fasha, but I doubt the knights will be a problem," Captain Rega, the towering man to Salidar''s right said with a grin, "What with the arrowheads that we procured from Sabreeza we''ll cut through the eagles like light pierces the darkness."


    Rega was a contrast to Fasha that Maxthane appreciated, and he was always a welcome addition to the meetings as far as Maxthane was concerned. Rega was tall and broad shouldered, and the strength he could put behind his sword was nearly legendary. On top of that he could move as quietly as a mouse if he needed to, and few had a keener eye with a bow. He was revered as one of the greatest fighters in all of The Shade, with few other names ever raised to challenge that distinction. But none of that mattered as much to Maxthane as the fact that Rega knew all the troops under his command as captain of Salidar''s forces, and exactly what all their capabilities were.


    "On top of that," Fasha added with a grin, "I have influence with a very powerful person in The Everbright City, one who could keep the knights from immediately coming after us. All you will need is time, yes? Time to get the demons under control?"


    "Who do you know in the Everbright City?" Salidar asked, but then shook his head in disbelief as if being hit by the reemergence of a memory long forgotten. "Never mind. Do you really think you could make that happen?"


    "Yes. I know that I can," Fasha said without a trace of doubt.


    "If he can keep the knights away then I am sure we can manage," Rega agreed. "Still, six is a large enough number that we will have our forces spread out quite far," he went on thoughtfully as he leaned over the map to analyze the terrain of the city. Pointing down at the largest marked pillar, Rega added, "But perhaps if we can figure out a way to employ the Elroks at the largest pillar . . ." He was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, and the group turned as one to look at the young servant poking his head through the entrance.


    "Excuse me, your majesty," the servant said with downcast eyes, "but the arena has been prepared."


    "Good," Salidar said as he rose to his feet. "Captain Rega," he said with a pensive expression as he turned to address the man, "Though you should probably come see this fight to learn what you''re up against, I think I would rather have you working on strategy with Fasha. The two of you will stay and work on the plan. I trust you to be sound in your judgments, and I look forward to seeing what to two of you have prepared when we return."


    Fasha and Rega nodded as Salidar turned on his heel and said, "Maxthane. You should come with me. It would be better for the people to see us together."


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    Maxthane cringed as he watched Styx close his eyes in the face of the demon''s charge. He had spent the last few hours thinking about Styx, and couldn''t seem to get him out of his mind. Something deep within him had instantly connected to Styx when their eyes had met at the gates, and he wanted to get to know Styx better. The last thing he wanted was to see him trampled by the demon.


    But that didn''t mean that he could go against his father either. He had wrestled with himself ever since he had laid eyes on Styx, thinking that if he made the request his father might grant him what he wished, but he had been too afraid. He was always too afraid. Salidar was known for keeping his word, and he had decreed that Styx was to be thrown in with the gladiators. Maxthane''s desire would not likely change that.


    He breathed a sigh of relief as Kutos gathered his senses in time to save Styx by pushing him out of the way with a quick shoulder rush, and then setting his shield against the charge. Though the demon easily knocked Kutos aside with a sweep of its horns, Styx had enough time to roll out of the way.


    "Something troubling you, son?" Salidar asked. Maxthane glanced toward his father briefly, but then looked back to the fight with his heart racing as he began to sweat. "I know that you''ve never been fond of the fights," Salidar continued, "but you seem particularly on edge about this one. Is it because of the demon? Are you worried you won''t be able to control it when it''s time to return it to its cage?"


    "No," Maxthane answered and then offered no further explanation. He knew that his father wanted more, but the intensity of the scene unfolding before him was too distracting for him to continue explaining what he was feeling.


    As the demon focused on Kutos, the other experienced fighter, Hurr, moved to the beast''s flank. Styx regained his footing but seemed unsteady and unsure, watching the demon with wide eyes and glancing back at the closed door that led out of the arena as if he were considering trying to run. Unheard over the crowd, Kutos seemed to be urging Styx on, and soon Styx settled into a fighting stance.


    The demon lunged for Kutos again, but the fighter was ready for the attack. He already had felt the demon''s strength and knew what to expect, and managed to deflect the attack to one side, then followed through with an attack of his own, slicing at the demon''s arm with his broadsword. Though the demon pulled back enough to avoid most of the damage, it howled as the sword left a gash across its inner forearm.


    Pain seemed only to enrage the beast further, and its rage served to increase its speed and strength. With a backhanded swing of its other arm, it sent Kutos flying backward twenty feet to crash into the wall, unmoving and momentarily stunned.


    Cheers erupted from the crowd while Maxthane''s heart skipped a beat. The fight was not going well, and it was not looking good for Styx. He hoped that the fighters would be able to regroup well enough that his father would call the fight over. Salidar wouldn''t want his precious demon killed, but there was little chance that he would stop the fight otherwise. The lives of the fighters were definitely not worth enough.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Maxthane found himself cheering as Hurr jabbed his spear into the demon''s side, and a fountain of blood erupted from the wound. It was the distraction that Kutos needed to rise to his feet, shaking his head to clear the haze that came from his injury. Unfortunately for Hurr, his attack brought the demon''s full attention to bear on the spearman.


    Spear flailing, Hurr did his best to avoid the demon''s attacks as he stepped backward quickly, but the demon''s longer legs were faster. In three quick steps the demon was close enough to catch the spear by its head and then drag Hurr towards it. In his fear it took Hurr a moment to let go and that moment cost him dearly. With a growl the demon stabbed at Hurr with its claws. The spearman tried to evade, but the wickedly sharp points pierced his shoulder. Hurr screamed as he pulled off of the demon''s claws and reached up to grab the wound. He held his hand tight against his shoulder as he stumbled backward and fell to one knee, looking at the demon with a defeated expression.


    What happened next caught both the crowd and the demon off guard, as both Kutos and Styx moved in at once. Styx did what he could, stabbing at the demon''s legs with his rapier, while Kutos made a quick lunge for the demon''s belly. Both strikes hit their marks, and the demon howled as it withdrew its attention from Hurr and swept back with one thick arm in a wide arc aimed at both Kutos and Styx.


    Kutos saw the strike coming and managed to backstep out of range of the swing, but Styx was eagerly lunging forward to slash at the demon''s leg when the arm connected with him. Maxthane cried out in panic as Styx was sent flying upward toward the metal net. Styx reflexively caught the net and hung on, pausing directly in front of Maxthane as he shook his head to clear his senses from the disorienting strike. Maxthane was distracted from the fight below as he studied Styx''s features, his heart pounding as he saw the pain etched on Styx''s sweat-drenched face. Their eyes met for only a second, but what he saw in Styx''s blue orbs was enough for Maxthane to know that he couldn''t let Styx die.


    The same connection from before was there again and as strong as ever, and though he didn''t understand how he could feel that way from such limited interaction he knew the truth; Maxthane was in love. When he saw Styx''s eyes, it was as if he was staring into his own soul, and he knew that he had to do everything he could to preserve that connection, or he would lose his own self when Styx died. He was determined to not let that happen.


    A mixture of gasps and cheers from the crowd drew both his and Styx''s attentions back to the fight below. Kutos was engaged in one on one combat with the demon, and he was losing, badly. The demon was pounding into Kutos'' shield, and it was all the gladiator could do to keep the demon from scoring a hit. With a sudden change of tactics, the demon stopped trying to pierce the shield with its claws, and instead grabbed it and ripped it out of Kutos'' hands. It earned a gash on its other arm for the maneuver, but that hardly registered as it growled down at the now shieldless man who had wounded it.


    With a primal yell of desperation, Kutos swung at the beast again, only to stare in horror as the demon caught the blade in its hand. The crowd''s murmuring was immediately silenced by the surprising turn of events. The silence was broken by a low snarl from the demon as it stabbed forward with its other claws, piercing the chest of the stunned warrior, and freezing the disbelief on his face. No sound escaped Kutos'' lips as the claws erupted from his back, spraying the sandy ground of the pit behind Kutos as his knees gave out beneath him and he crumpled to the ground at the demon''s feet. The crowd remained silent as they watched him fall. Kutos, the best fighter among the gladiators, was dead. It was almost as if the world stopped moving to mourn his passing.


    "Nooooo!!!" Styx shouted, shattering the moment in a sudden burst of motion. Noticed only by Maxthane, he brushed his cheek and activated his hawk tattoo as he leapt from his place on the net, gliding toward the demon''s head. As he descended, he drew his two knives from his belt. Styx landed on the surprised demon''s shoulders and wrapped his legs around its neck, then began to stab at the back of its head, screaming curses at it the whole time.


    Maxthane reached out to control the beast as it reached up to pluck Styx from his perch. To his horror, he found that the best he could do was slow him down. Somehow the beast had become stronger and therefore more difficult to control. Slowing it down proved to be enough as Styx managed to evade the grasping hand by climbing over its head onto its face, where he proceed to ram a knife into two separate eyes.


    The demon threw its head back and howled, causing Styx to lose his grip and fall off. With his tattoo still active, he glided safely to the ground, and landed at the ready with knives still in hand. The crowd went wild with cheers, but they were no longer cheering for the demon, but instead the lone gladiator that stood to face the frightening beast.


    The demon turned to face its last opponent, but Styx proved to be quicker. He kept himself in the demon''s blind spot as he darted behind it, seeking an opening. He dashed in and made a quick series of slashes at its legs. The cuts were little more than an irritant to the demon, who kicked Styx hard in the stomach sending him sprawling backwards.


    Styx landed hard on his back, and the demon growled as it turned to thrust its clawed arm down at his face. It was all Styx could do to put his bucklered right arm in the way, bracing it with his other arm. The claws pierced the buckler, and both of his arms, causing Styx to cry out, but the crowd gasped as the clawed arm stopped an inch away from his face.


    The crowd watched in stunned silence as the demon stood over Styx, unmoving. Maxthane felt the demon''s presence in his mind, a wall of rage and hatred barely held back by Maxthane''s force of will. He had regained control. With relief he tested the strength of his bond with the demon and mentally ordered it to stand down and walk back to its cage. Those around him gasped as the demon did exactly what it was told, and then erupted in cheers as Styx struggled to his feet, though he cried out when he attempted to use his arms to do so. Styx watched, dumbfounded, as the demon entered its cage, and the wall slid back down separating him from the monster.


    For Maxthane it was over, but he winced as he saw the pain cross Styx''s features as he hurried over to Kutos. Kutos may have been a seasoned warrior, but now he lay in a pool of his own blood, and the sight of it almost made Maxthane turn away. He was used to seeing the gladiators die, though it was rare, but in this case it seemed almost personal. Kutos had been fighting in the ring since Maxthane''s childhood, but he figured that it was likely the anguish on Styx''s face that caused Maxthane to feel such remorse over the loss and not his own familiarity with the dead gladiator.


    Hurr finally managed to get to his feet, cradling his shoulder as he stumbled toward Styx, but he only made it a few steps before he fell over again, struggling for breath. At first Maxthane thought that the demon must have punctured one of Hurr''s lungs, but then Styx began to show the same symptoms. He bent over Kutos'' form, heaving, trying to force air into his lungs.


    "Something''s wrong," Maxthane said worriedly, glancing back to his father. Salidar was watching the situation closely as well, but his eyes were not filled with concern but rather curiosity.


    "Maybe they''re just catching their breath," Salidar offered with a shrug, though Maxthane could tell that his father didn''t believe that to be the case. Maxthane looked between his father and Styx, his anxiousness growing by the second. "Or maybe it''s something else, a poison perhaps?" Salidar added as Hurr collapsed to the ground. "No more fighting against the demon, I suppose. We''ll lose too many gladiators. Maybe next time I''ll send some of Jakkel''s cats against it."


    "We''re going to lose two more if we don''t do something!" Maxthane insisted, gesturing toward the arena. He was starting to panic. Styx was going to die.


    Salidar regarded him curiously, searching his son''s face for reason behind his emotional outburst. He leaned forward and whispered so that only his son could hear him, "Is that why you stopped the fight? You have feelings for the boy, don''t you?"


    There was no way he knew of to get a lie past his father, so he simply nodded past the lump in his throat. When his father didn''t respond immediately, Maxthane''s panic got the better of him. "Please don''t let him die."


    "I don''t know that I have any other choice, son," Salidar replied, raising his hands helplessly, "We know nothing about this poison, other than it seems to make it hard for them to breathe. It''s a demonic poison; no one knows that much about demons."


    Maxthane turned back toward the arena, despairing as he watched the two fighters continued to struggle for air. It couldn''t end like this. The connection he felt to Styx was burning in his mind. He felt like they were destined to be together, but he could also feel that destiny slipping away with each passing heartbeat.


    "What about the man we set free with the demon?" Maxthane asked with sudden hope. "Could we ask Prism?"


    "Prism? You are asking me to risk this entire operation on this!" Salidar said with a hint of anger, though it quickly subsided as he met Maxthane''s eyes. Salidar could never stay angry at his son. "I don''t know how he''ll react when he finds out we''ve been using the demon in our pit fights. Remember," Salidar added with a smirk, "he''s a personal friend of Neredos."


    "Father," Maxthane replied, not knowing what else to do. He knew his eyes were speaking for him as he begged, "Please."


    Salidar looked at his son as if he had never seen him before. Maxthane was not one who typically went against his father''s wishes, for any reason. Though many parents put in Salidar''s position would have been less likely to help a rebellious child, Salidar was different. The Underking was all about rebellion after all. If anything, Salidar was proud.


    "Very well," Salidar conceded, "I''ll see what I can do."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 5: The Birdcage

    Breathing was becoming more difficult with each inhalation, and Styx found it impossible to focus on anything other than gulping for air. The searing pain from his arms and the wetness he felt spreading across his chest told him that he was also losing blood quickly, but that no longer seemed important. He was going to suffocate, and that would be his end. He shut his eyes and prepared to meet his fate.


    He felt strong hands lifting him from the ground and his eyes flashed open to see two men picking him up from his shoulders and his feet, carrying him over to a table that had been set on the arena floor. A man was standing next to the table, wearing a unique set of armor; a form fitting set of metal and leather. His dark eyes regarded Styx with interest and concern, and something in his look caused a spark of hope to grow in Styx; this man had every intention of saving him. Determination to survive overwhelmed his thoughts of giving in to the suffocating pressure. Survival had always been his primary focus, and now that he had hope he saw no reason to change that now.


    "I need an herbalist," Prism said to someone further away from the table as he checked the wounds on Styx''s arms, "Anyone you have on hand that has knowledge of herbs, and hopefully has some available as well."


    "Already here," a woman''s voice replied quickly. The voice''s source moved up to stand beside the table as she asked, "What do you need?"


    "Dagger root and Kingsflower," Prism stated clearly, "with some Junjun extract."


    "Okay, we have dagger root," the woman replied, handing a small packet to Prism, but then shook her head as she added, "but I''ve never heard of the other two."


    "Junjun is a type of bush berry that grows wild in the Kurush Mountains," Prism explained, as he began to unwrap the packet. He wasn''t looking at the herbalist at all, focusing instead on the mortar and pestle in his hands. When the herbalist didn''t respond to his explanation he further clarified, "It''s favored by Elroks but humans can''t stand the taste."


    "Ah yes," the herbalist replied. She pulled a small vial from her satchel and set it on the table next to Prism and explained, "It''s typically called Elrok Wine. And the Kingsflower?"


    "Thorny plant with blue and gold blossoms. Has a milky sap," Prism explained in a tone that almost sounded disinterested, or impatient. Styx couldn''t tell which, and he didn''t care. The only thing he wanted at that moment was to be able to breathe again, and the longer they kept talking, the longer it would take for him to be healed.


    "Ah, of course. Different name again, but that''s for slowing progression, right?" the herbalist asked while digging through her satchel. When Prism nodded in response she retrieved another small packet from her satchel and handed it over with a smile as she said, "I''ve got plenty of that. Here you are."


    "Very good," Prism said with a nod. He turned to the herbalist with a stare that left no room for argument as he added, "Now I''ll get them mixed together if you will please find me a Fedain."


    "A Fedain, sir?" The herbalist asked in confusion.


    "You think that demonic poison is going to be cured by mundane means?" Prism returned with a raised eyebrow, then turned back to his mortar and pestle and continued, "Now, is there a Fedain nearby, or isn''t there? If not, they are both as good as dead."


    Hearing this piece of news, Styx reached out and grasped Prism''s arm as he gathered all the breath he could to gasp out, "Grim . . . gladiator . . ." He couldn''t get out any more, and the effort cost him. He felt his consciousness slipping away as his chest grew even tighter. Doing everything he could to hold on, he forced himself to keep breathing and hoped that his message was understood.


    If he had the breath to sigh in relief he would have as the name was recognized by the herbalist and she said, "There''s a Fedain among the gladiators. I will go fetch him."


    "See that you do," Prism stated firmly, watching the herbalist leave in the company of several of the guards. Then to no one in particular he muttered, "Grim. A Fedain among the gladiators . . . hmm."


    Prism continued to mix the three ingredients together, forming a paste. With care he applied half of the mixture to Styx''s wounds. Even though the treatment stung, Styx was too breathless to cry out in pain, bearing it with a sharper intake of air than his already labored efforts.


    With the medicine in hand, Prism left Styx''s side and moved to Hurr who then received the same treatment. He could feel that the paste was doing something in his wounds, though his breathing was no less labored. The only difference that Styx could notice was that it was no longer getting any worse.


    The guards returned without the herbalist, but with Grim walking between them instead. The Fedain looked at Styx with alarm and hurried to his side, not looking at Prism until he had reached the table and looked over Styx''s wounds. "I''ve been apprised of the situation," Grim said simply, looking up at Prism as he started to ask, "How may I . . . Prism?" His eyes widened more than Styx would have thought possible, and his body began to tremble, as his pale complexion somehow grew even whiter.


    "Shh," Prism shushed Grim quickly, without putting his finger to his lips. "Let''s not arouse suspicion, all right?" He walked back over to Styx and said quietly, "I could ask what the devil you''re doing still alive, but let''s just work on saving lives, shall we?"


    "Understood," Grim said with a nod as he returned his attention to Styx''s wounds. He turned his back on the guards by the arena entrance as he went on, "But I''m telling you right now, Prism. You need to get out of here as soon as you get the chance."


    "I''ve gathered that impression," Prism muttered in annoyance, "I''m just waiting for the right opportunity."


    "No, you don''t understand," Grim replied firmly, then he explained in a whisper, "He''s here."


    "You''ve found him?" Prism replied in surprise. With a subtle shake of his head he went on, "All right, I''ll find you when I get free, and you can tell me about it when we get out of here."


    "Very well," Grim agreed, then gestured toward the medicated wounds and said, "I can see that you''ve already prepared the ingredients. Well done."


    "If I had known it was you who would come," Prism admitted dryly, "I wouldn''t have requested them at all."


    Grim shook his head slightly. "It''s just as well that you did, that way we can make sure you appear useful. It will help keep them from suspecting anything," he explained with a smirk. "Shall we do the boy first?"


    "Agreed," Prism replied, and he grasped Styx''s wrists, holding him down to the table. Though Styx expected Grim to grab his forearms as well, Grim laid both of his hands on Styx''s chest instead. Styx lurched upward involuntarily as energy coursed through him, and the sudden shock to his system was almost enough to make him pass out. It was as if his heart and lungs were both on fire, and every second that Grim''s hands remained in place on his chest Styx could literally feel the blood pumping through his veins. His heart was working overtime, and he cried out in pain as the beating became so intense he swore it was about to burst.


    Though to Styx it had felt like it had taken a great deal longer, Grim removed his hands from Styx less than a minute after he had placed them there. Styx gasped several times, once again forcing air into his lungs, but this time he noted that it remained there. Whatever Grim had done to him, it had worked, and the poison had stopped. His arms were no longer in pain either, and Styx stared down at them in disbelief as he realized that his cuts had been healed. The only thing that still felt wrong was that he was thirsty and lightheaded; a result of the blood he had lost.


    Wasting no time, Prism said to Grim, "All right, let''s do the other one now." They moved in unison to Hurr''s chest, Prism once again restraining the patient while Grim placed his hands on Hurr''s chest. This time Styx was able to see the process from the outside, and he gasped as Grim''s skin began to glow with a silvery light as he focused on Hurr. Hurr''s body lurched as Styx had felt his own do, with the warrior''s face contorted in agony. All of a sudden, the glow left Grim, and Hurr''s body collapsed to the ground, motionless.


    "It''s no good," Grim said, breathing heavily, "he''s dead. We were too late. Damn. Hurr was a good man too."


    "What is going on?" Styx asked, and the two men turned toward him, regarding his interest with expressionless faces.


    "You''ve been poisoned, Styx. I just healed you," Grim explained, forcing a sad smile to his face. "Are you feeling all right?"


    "Never been better," Styx replied sarcastically, flexing his arm to make sure that nothing was out of the ordinary. He took a quick glance around the arena and noted that Kutos'' body was nowhere to be found, though a large bloodstain marked where the warrior had fallen. Styx raised his hand to his face and gasped, "Oh no. Kutos!"


    "There''s nothing you could have done differently, Styx," Grim said as he returned to Styx''s side to lay a consoling hand on his shoulder. "You have to accept that."


    "He saved my life," Styx stammered. Until now he had been unable to process what had happened, due to the fight and the poison. He remembered bending down over the warrior''s body, but that was when his breathing problems had begun, and he had lost the ability to focus on anything else. Now he was hit with waves of guilt and remorse as he thought about what had happened.


    "He''s done that for everyone, Styx," Grim replied, patting Styx on the shoulder, as he followed Styx''s gaze toward the spot where Kutos had fallen. "He was a good man. Instead of mourning his death, live with the life he preserved for you."


    "But it''s my fault!" Styx insisted, drawing a frown from Grim. Grim looked as if he was about to reply but he stopped as they heard the door to the arena open behind them again. They turned together to see Maxthane enter the arena, accompanied by two more guardsmen. Maxthane approached them at a jog, a look of concern on his smooth face.


    As soon as Styx laid his eyes on Maxthane his guilt was replaced with anger. He knew who was to blame for the death of the men he had fought alongside. Kutos and Hurr had both died in the arena while Salidar and his cronies had watched on, caring for nothing but their amusement. Maxthane thulu''Khant was just as bad as his father.


    "Is he all right? Is everything okay?" Maxthane directed his questions toward Prism, but then turned his apprehensive gaze toward Styx. Styx wasn''t sure he liked the way that Maxthane was looking at him. There was more than concern that he was showing. If Styx didn''t know better, he could have sworn that the boy was displaying signs of attraction.


    "He''s fine, Master Maxthane," Prism replied quietly, but then gestured toward Hurr''s body as he said more solemnly, "Though the other one didn''t make it."


    Salidar''s son, Prince Maxthane of The Shade, was standing in front of Styx, showing concern for his life. He had never liked drawing attention to himself, especially the attention of powerful people, and now he was in the spotlight. People in the spotlight didn''t tend to live for long. Styx vowed to himself that he would get out as quickly as possible, and when he did he would run as far away from The Shade and then Pentalus as he could. That was the only way he could see to ensure his survival.


    Barely glancing in the direction of Hurr''s body, Maxthane turned his full attention to Styx. Silence lingered long enough that everyone but the prince noticed the awkwardness, and the guards started to fidget as they watched Maxthane, not knowing what to do. Grim and Prism shared a look that Styx noticed but didn''t understand, while Styx stood still and simply stared back.


    "Are my services still required?" Prism asked after clearing his throat loudly enough to startle and pull Maxthane out of his stare.


    "No, you may go. Thank you, Prism," Maxthane answered with a wide smile. Then he turned his smile to Grim and bowed his head slightly as he added, "And you as well."


    Prism bowed and turned toward the same door that Maxthane had entered from, without a second glance at anyone else. Grim watched his retreating back until several guards moved to his side. The Fedain sighed as he was led away, but just before he was escorted through the double doors that led back to the gladiator cell he turned back to Styx and mouthed, "Good luck."


    Styx nodded back and Grim left the arena, leaving him alone with Maxthane and his guards. Even though he wanted to avoid conflict with his captors if he could, his anger got the better of him. In an unpleasant tone Styx asked, "I''m sorry, but what is going on exactly? You''re Maxthane thulu''Khant, Salidar''s son, correct?"


    "That''s correct, though you may call me Max if you wish," Maxthane replied with a smile and a blush, which Styx interpreted as an attempt to disarm his anger. Maxthane approached Styx and extended his hand in greeting as he continued, "And you''re Styx. I received a quick briefing on you from Dogo, yesterday."


    "What business do you have with me?" Styx replied testily, batting away the offered hand. Before he could stop himself he was shouting, "Come to finish the job that your father started? Are you going to kill me yourself?"


    The sudden outburst of anger had the guards leveling their spears at Styx. They seemed uncertain if they needed to rush to defend their prince or not. Styx wasn''t the only one to notice their apprehension, and Maxthane waved at them dismissively to lower their weapons. After a brief hesitation the guards complied with the order.


    "No, I wouldn''t do that," Maxthane replied with a horrified expression, and Styx almost believed him. Maxthane almost seemed hurt by the thought. "It was hard enough convincing father to save you, why would I go through all that trouble just to have you killed? No, your position here is changing, Styx."


    "Whatever do you mean?" Styx asked with a roll of his eyes. He glanced toward the double doors that led out of the arena, wondering if he could make a break for it. He had been through enough, and he didn''t want to stick around and find out what other nasty surprises the Underking and his son had in store for him.


    But Styx wasn''t prepared at all for when Maxthane answered with a small smile, "You''re to become my personal servant."


    "What?" Styx exclaimed. Of all the things that could have come out of Maxthane''s mouth, he had expected that least of all. The more he let the words sink in, the angrier he became. "I think I''d rather face the pit again," Styx admitted dryly, "Do you realize what you put us through down here? Two good men died today, so that you could have your little piece of entertainment."


    "Yes," Maxthane answered simply. For a brief moment everything else faded from Styx''s mind except for Maxthane''s eyes. Those eyes that were filled with an intelligence that Styx had not noticed before, and which held within them not only the lust Maxthane seemed to feel for Styx, but also something else; the prince almost looked ashamed.


    "Excuse me?" Styx asked with wide eyes as he took an involuntary step backward.


    "Yes, I realize that," Maxthane answered quietly but firmly. But Styx gritted his teeth as Maxthane looked away and made the excuse, "I didn''t make that call."


    "Well, prince of The Shade, one day you will," Styx answered with a bewildered shake of his head. He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes in an attempt to bring his anger under control, but when he opened his eyes he saw Maxthane staring back at him blankly and his blood began to boil again. He growled and suggested defiantly, "Why don''t you go running back to daddy and tell him I''m not interested in serving the royal family."


    "That''s not an option," Maxthane replied with a dangerous sparkle in his eyes as he stood tall. Although he was shorter than Styx, it appeared to Styx as if Maxthane was somehow looking down on him as he declared, "You''re coming, willingly or not."


    "Then bind me! Drag me if you must!" Styx growled, taking a threatening step toward Maxthane, causing the guards to take a step forward as well, lowering their spears at him. Styx eyed the spears cautiously, but all it took was one quick glance back at the spot where Kutos had died for his resolve to solidify. "I''m sick of playing this game, you bastard," he spat, his spittle landing upon the sandy surface of the arena floor at Maxthane''s feet, "I refuse to be your tool."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Your spirit only makes you more appealing to me," Maxthane replied unexpectedly, as he looked Styx up and down. He waved the guards forward as he turned his back to Styx and said, "Very well. Men, bring him."


    Styx spat toward Maxthane''s bare back, but the guards came in quickly and pulled him roughly to the ground, causing the spittle to land only a few inches beyond his first puddle. His arms were pulled behind his back and bound by heavy manacles, the cold metal digging into his skin as they were tightened around his wrists.


    Maxthane walked toward the door with the guards escorting Styx not far behind. As Styx was led through the corridors of the complex, his mind continued to analyze his situation. In his mind he marked the corridors that they passed, building a mental map of the complex. At several points he considered making a break for it, but not knowing what awaited him¡ªnot to mention being bound and unaware of his exact position¡ªhe decided to bide his time.


    Of course, there was also the possibility that it wouldn''t be as bad as he thought. The truth was that he had no idea what becoming Maxthane''s personal servant would entail. It might not even be disagreeable work. He hated himself for considering that working for the enemy might just be his best chance of survival, but with his anger no longer clouding his judgment, it was easy to admit the possibility was real. Stealing had been his main mode of survival for his entire life, and some honest labor wouldn''t kill him, and at least his boss would be someone attractive.


    Where did that thought come from? Styx wondered, shaking his head. He had been ignoring the boy''s obvious physical beauty because of his anger, but he couldn''t avoid it for much longer. Maxthane was definitely attractive, and not much younger than him. Styx noticed the way Maxthane walked with a sense of purpose, and the way the muscles in his back flexed with his stride. Yes, he was definitely attracted to Maxthane; if he became his personal servant, perhaps even in the bath . . .


    Styx shook his head violently, causing one of the guards to smack him. Neither the head shake nor the smack completely removed the thoughts from his head, but they distracted him enough that they were no longer in the forefront of his mind. He chided himself for thinking such things, and tried to find a spark to ignite the anger again. Anger was much safer, and familiar, than attraction.


    Styx returned to evaluating his surroundings, and realized that they were entering a more opulent section of the complex. The floors were clean and the walls were adorned with blue enchanter''s lamps every thirty feet. It must have cost a fortune to have so many installed, but since Salidar was far from the first king to rule from this structure they had probably been using the same lamps for centuries, since they never lost their brightness. Styx was sure the lamps had been paid for long before he was born.


    From the slight incline of the stone beneath his feet he felt he was being led higher, a fact that became obvious as they reached a set of stairs. This section appeared newer than the rest of the complex he had seen so far, and the stone had seen less work. Styx wondered if that meant they were now in the walls of the cavern. That would prove to be to his advantage if there were a window higher up that he could fit through. If he could get to the cavern wall, he might be able to escape by jumping. People tended to forget about his hawk tattoo until he used it, often to their dismay.


    The stairs brought them to a wide landing with two wooden doors, and the group moved to the door on the right. Maxthane opened it himself, and gestured for the guards to lead Styx inside and up another flight of stairs. Styx soon found himself at the top of the staircase and being led through one more door. There he stopped and spent a moment to take in his new surroundings.


    A window set in the far wall was the first thing that caught his eye, and he considered making a break for it, but one subtle tug against the grip of the guards that held him told him that he would have to wait until they were no longer around. Not to mention his bonds which would prevent him from making full use of his flight. With a silent grumble, he resumed his survey of the room. The walls were lined with fully-stocked bookshelves, giving the appearance that he was in a library, but the spacious bed in one corner of the room gave away his location. Maxthane was fidgeting as Styx looked at the bed and then up at him questioningly; this was his home, surely, but it was obvious that he rarely had guests. After all, Styx mused, who would visit the son of the Underking? Friends were not a common commodity in The Shade.


    Maxthane gestured toward a small alcove to the side of the door, where a much smaller bed had been placed. The guards holding Styx led him over to the bed where he noticed a large stone block with an iron ring embedded in it. One of the guards removed the manacle from his left wrist and attached the manacle to the iron ring. Styx tested the strength of the binding instinctively and found that it didn''t move at all; without the key, he would never be able to get free. After asking for the key, Maxthane waved the guards away, and they bowed and left the chamber, leaving the two young men alone. Styx thought that Maxthane would immediately engage him in conversation, but instead he left the small alcove, fidgeting with the key as he walked away.


    Styx thought about playing along. It was his best option if he wanted Maxthane to trust him enough to become vulnerable. Sadly, he had already made a show of promising that he would never cooperate. If he started acting the opposite way right off then Maxthane would know that something was up, and his chances would fade away instantly. It would take some maneuvering to get into that position, and he would have to wait for the right moment to play his hand.


    It was a few minutes before Maxthane returned to the alcove, holding a tray with two cups of a reddish liquid, which he assumed was some sort of wine considering the plate of cheese that accompanied them. Styx eyed the knife that remained on the plate for slicing the cheese, but then cursed his luck as Maxthane set them down on the end table near the foot of the bed, which was out of his reach. Turning to face him, Maxthane stared at Styx as if at a loss for words.


    "What are you staring at?" Styx asked testily.


    "I''m sorry. I''ve never been in a situation like this," Maxthane admitted with a shrug, "I don''t really know what to do now that I have you here."


    "You could always let me go," Styx replied dryly.


    "That isn''t going to happen. My father wouldn''t tolerate it," Maxthane replied. "When people manage to escape the complex, he usually doesn''t hunt them down, but that doesn''t mean he simply lets people go."


    "And that''s your goal in life, huh?" Styx asked. "To become exactly like your father?"


    To Styx''s surprise, Maxthane didn''t respond to the attempted insult with any anger in his voice. "I''ve honestly never thought about it," Maxthane admitted. "He''s always been there. There''s never been much of a reason for me to think about what it''s going to be like when he''s gone."


    "Really?" Styx scoffed. "You''ve never thought about ruling when someone finally kills your old man?"


    Maxthane answered with a question of his own. "Why do you think he''s going to be killed? He could die an old and wealthy king."


    "Dealing with Pentalus has a chance of drawing the attention of the Knights of the Firmament," Styx explained, leaning back on the bed as he spoke. He found it surprisingly comfortable, and as he felt his body begin to relax he stopped talking to take in the moment. Only when he noticed Maxthane raise a questioning eyebrow did he continue. "Whatever your father''s got going right now, it has to do with Pentalus. I thought that the merchant was paying him blackmail money, but there wasn''t any gold in those sacks. What were those arrowheads for anyway?"


    "That''s none of your concern," Maxthane stated in a dangerous tone. His eyes flashed as if challenging Styx to press the matter, and promising that he wouldn''t like the result if he did.


    "Oh, defensive are we?" Styx replied with a challenge of his own. When Maxthane didn''t back down he shrugged and said, "No matter, you didn''t answer my other question. What are you going to do when you become king down here? Assuming you don''t get yourself killed before your old man goes."


    "Honestly, I don''t want to rule," Maxthane said as he turned and grabbed the tray, taking one of the cups and offering it to Styx. Styx took the cup and drank from it without a second thought, finding his original assumption to be correct. It was definitely wine, and very nice too, and had a pleasant fruity smell. Dehydrated as he was he took a much longer drink though he kept a fair bit in the bottom of the cup. Maxthane smiled as he noticed the action, and then took the other cup in his hands and took a sip, but his smile faded away as the cup came away from his lips. With a distant look in his eyes he explained, "I understand the need for order down here, but I can''t help but think there''s a better way than enforcing that rule with brute force."


    Styx took a long sip from his cup, swirling the liquid around in his mouth before he let it run down his throat, thinking about what Maxthane had said. Most rich people he had met were of the impression that the poor were their inferiors, and had no problem maintaining the status quo by use of force. He had misjudged Maxthane, at least if the boy was being sincere, and he hadn''t been given any reason to believe that the prince wasn''t telling the truth.


    "Don''t tell me I''ve been captured by a philosopher," Styx said at length, surprising himself by grinning. Maxthane looked at him in confusion but seeing the grin he grinned back as Styx went on, "If I wanted to endure lectures about philosophy, I would have moved to Pentalus and become a student at the university."


    "Move to Pentalus, huh?" Maxthane replied incredulously, "You''d be able to escape notice as a Shade? I think they''d be on to you in a second." With a twinkle in his eyes he added, "Maybe if you managed to steal a good set of clothes and a bath before you went up there; but your skin is so pale, and the tattoos on your face . . . You''ve spent your entire life here, haven''t you?"


    Styx took another sip of his wine as he considered the question. Maxthane seemed genuine in his interest, but there was something that bothered him about it. "I thought that Dogo gave you a briefing on me," Styx said as he raised the cup up to his lips and paused it there. "Shouldn''t you already know the answer to that question, Max?" He took another sip and lowered the cup, watching Maxthane carefully.


    Maxthane smiled at the use of the nickname. He took a sip from his own cup before setting it down on the tray. "Not even Dogo could dig up all the details of your past," he admitted. "Where did you start out?"


    "Why so much concern for a personal servant?" Styx replied with a raised eyebrow as he rolled the cup from one hand to the other. "Do you even care, or are you just trying to make me complacent?"


    "No. I really care," Maxthane insisted, "I''ve been wanting to learn about you since I first saw you by the bridge. You''re . . . intriguing."


    "Very well," Styx replied. "I was found by Madame Godani when I was an infant. She raised me as her own, well, sort of. She raised me to be a thief and taught me how to use this," He said pointing to the tattoo of the hawk on his cheek.


    "Fau Shae Godani. So you were an Inkblade then?" Maxthane asked, and when Styx nodded in response he continued, "With her skill with enchanted tattoos I''m not surprised you use that hawk as well as you do. Do you have any others?"


    Styx stared back blankly, raising the cup to his lips again, but instead of drinking he smiled wide, wiggled his eyebrows and said, "Wouldn''t you like to find out?" He laughed as Maxthane blushed and turned away.


    Maxthane cleared his throat and turned back, the redness still bright in his cheeks. "So what did you mean by ''She taught you how to use it''? Most people don''t get magical tattoos unless they already plan on using them."


    "No, the tattoo was there when she found me," Styx replied with a shrug, "I''ve had it for as long as anyone has known me. Whoever abandoned me must have had it done to me."


    "So you were abandoned?"


    "Seems that way," Styx nodded. "Madame Godani found me in the Upper Shade while returning from a heist in Pentalus. Someone had left me there, probably because they didn''t want a child. The Shade is a wonderful place to put things that no one wants."


    "That''s terrible. I''m sorry you had to go through that," Maxthane replied.


    "Hey, I don''t need your pity," Styx said defensively, "I was living just fine until Dogo brought me here."


    "You''re right, I''m sorry," Maxthane replied. He put his cup back down on the tray and picked up the plate of cheese. He raised it toward Styx and offered, "Do you want any?"


    "I suppose it can''t hurt," Styx agreed setting his cup down on top of the stone block that his manacles were attached to. He received a warm grin in return as Maxthane took a seat on the bed next to him, then proceeded to carve the cheese with the knife. As soon as he had a piece cut off he handed it to Styx.


    Styx reached for the cheese and then grasped Maxthane''s wrist instead, pulling Maxthane onto the bed as he lunged for the knife in Maxthane''s other hand. He wrestled it from Maxthane''s grip, and in a quick series of motions Styx had Maxthane down on his back with the knife pressed to his throat as he contemplated his next move. He regarded with curiosity the cheese that now lay scattered across the floor, a symbol of the generosity of his host, which he had just discarded. His grip softened on the knife as he realized he wouldn''t be able to kill Maxthane now; he had gotten too close to Maxthane, even though they had spent so little time together. Killing him was the furthest thing from his mind, but that didn''t mean that he couldn''t still bargain with Maxthane''s life in order to get out. The first thing he needed was the key.


    "All right, you let me go, and I''ll let you live," Styx growled, though his heart wasn''t in it. Now that he was so close to Maxthane physically, he could feel Maxthane''s heart pounding, and smell the sweet scent of his clean skin. The palm of Styx''s hand as it rested against the skin of Maxthane''s neck felt the softness of that skin, and Styx momentarily lost his focus as he stared into Maxthane''s eyes.


    "You''re going to kill me?" Maxthane asked incredulously, though Styx wasn''t sure if the disbelief was genuine or just bravado. He decided on bravado when Maxthane added, "I think my father would go against his usual rule of letting escapees go if you killed me. He would hunt you down."


    "Maybe you''re right, but let''s remember who has the advantage here," Styx replied evenly, pressing the knife a little harder. He winced involuntarily as he drew blood. He pulled the knife back a little ways, keeping it away from deepening the wound.


    The wince was not lost on Maxthane, who replied quickly, "You couldn''t kill me anyway, Styx. You''re not a killer. Have you ever killed before?"


    "No, but I have to survive," Styx answered coldly, his determination returning, "no matter what it takes."


    "I can''t free you," Maxthane admitted, seeing Styx''s growing resolve, "I don''t have the key on me. You would have to let me go in order for me to get it."


    "I saw the guard hand it to you," Styx insisted, his pulse beginning to quicken.


    "I put it down when I retrieved the wine and cheese," Maxthane explained, his eyes pleading.


    "Dammit!" Styx shouted, pulling the knife away. Hopelessness flooded back into him, and in his frustration he threw the cheese knife away from him to clatter against the stone floor. There was no way out. He was stuck here until he fulfilled his penance, whatever that might be.


    Maxthane sat up and kissed him deeply. At first Styx recoiled, his eyes wide and his hands reached up to push Maxthane back, but as Maxthane pressed in further, Styx responded to his instincts and kissed back. Styx reached down with both of his arms and pulled Maxthane into him, allowing his hands to explore Maxthane''s naked back, feeling the smoothness of his pale skin and drinking in his scent. Maxthane responded by grasping Styx''s face between his hands and laying his forearms on the other boy''s chest. Maxthane continued to kiss Styx passionately, reveling in the feeling of Styx''s lips against his own. When they finally parted for air, Styx eyed Maxthane with a mixture of suspicion and confusion.


    "What the hell was that?" Styx demanded. He wasn''t sure what he was feeling, as he had just ridden through a number of emotions in quick succession. From comfort, to determination, to hopelessness, but then Maxthane''s kiss had brought him to a completely different place. For some reason the hopelessness had dematerialized, and had been replaced by a sense of longing. A longing for what, he couldn''t determine, but he was definitely confused.


    "I want you, Styx. I need you, actually," Maxthane admitted as he pulled away, his eyes moist. "I can''t explain it, but when I saw you come close to dying today, it was as unbearable as if I were the one dying. I think we''re connected."


    "Connected?" Styx echoed. "Let me tell you the problem I see here," Styx began. The high from their physical exchange was fading quickly, and his anger from earlier was beginning to return. "Your father had me captured, and thrown into a pit to fight a monster, a literal monster! I watched two good men die today, and you did too. Why didn''t you save Kutos?" His eyes flashed dangerously as his voice began to rise in volume. "Was he not connected enough for you? If you think that just because you used your influence to save my life, spared me from the arena, and kissed me that I''m going to suddenly forgive you and your father, you''re incredibly na?ve."


    "Is there nothing I can do to prove that I am not my father?" Maxthane snapped. His whole body was shaking as he stood up and turned away. When he finally turned back his eyes were furious, "I know that he can be a tyrant, I understand that, really. What can I do about it? As you pointed out, I''m his son and I''m expected to follow orders, and one day follow in his footsteps. Do you think he would let me protest every time he threw someone in the pit?" He looked away and paused briefly before muttering, "He''d just end up throwing me in there too!"


    "Maybe that''s exactly what you need; a little perspective to teach you how the world actually works," Styx replied. He reached for the cup of wine and downed the rest of it before suggesting with a smirk, "Why don''t you ask your daddy dearest to put you in with the fighters? I''m sure you''ll enjoy it!"


    "Why are you acting like this?" Maxthane asked with a glare, "I''m trying to save your life!"


    "My life ended the moment that Dogo captured me. I''m just biding my time as I wait to escape, Max, and then I might just be able to begin to live again," Styx explained, juggling the empty wine cup in his hands as he avoided meeting Maxthane''s gaze. "You can keep me as your servant, I''ll even play along until you''re no longer paying attention, and then I''ll leave at the first chance I get."


    Maxthane left the alcove, glancing back once and hesitating before walking away. Styx watched him leave, his eyes never leaving the beautiful youth who served as his captor. It didn''t matter that he felt the connection Maxthane had spoken about, Styx was still a prisoner, and he wasn''t going to enjoy it. With a growl he threw the empty cup against the wall, the ceramic shattering loudly.


    Maxthane returned as the pieces of ceramic scattered across the floor. He looked at the broken pieces and then back at Styx, his features unreadable. Then he raised his right hand, which was holding the key to the manacles. To Styx''s surprise, he handed it over and said, "Here. There''s nothing else I can do to prove it to you." With a shake of his head and a helpless expression he went on, "I wish you''d stay, but I can see that you won''t be happy here. Just promise me you''ll come back one day, and that you''ll stay alive."


    "Max . . ." Styx began, at a complete loss for words. Instead of trying to convert his emotions into speech he nodded as he took the key and added simply, "Thank you. I didn''t expect this."


    Maxthane nodded as Styx unlocked the manacles and stood up, rubbing his wrist. Taking one last look at Maxthane, Styx turned and headed toward the window cut into the wall of the room. Taking a deep breath, he reached up for the rocky ledge to pull himself up, but stopped when Maxthane spoke again.


    "One last thing," Maxthane said, causing Styx to turn around. As he did, Maxthane pulled him into an embrace and kissed him deeply. And, like the first time it had happened, it came as a complete surprise, but this time, Styx didn''t pull away at all. He kissed back just as passionately. This time when he pulled away, he wasn''t confused at all about what had happened. He had definitely felt something there; the connection that Maxthane had mentioned earlier.


    "What was that for?" Styx asked.


    "Because I know you felt it," Maxthane stated firmly, "Even if you don''t want to admit it. Come back to me, Styx."


    Despite Max''s pleading eyes, Styx couldn''t make that deal. All he knew then was that he had to escape. Survival was the most important thing. It always was. "Max," Styx said quietly, "I''m not one to make promises, I''m sorry."


    "It doesn''t matter," Maxthane replied with a firm nod and a half-hearted smile, "I''ll see you again; I know it."


    Styx turned around and leapt out of the window. As he glided into the darkness he whispered, "I promise. Whatever happens, I''ll come back for you."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 6: Heritage and Privilege

    "I''m telling you, Lady Alsha, there was a pillar here before! You''ve got to believe me. It''s my job to know these things, dammit!" The old man pushed his spectacles back up his nose as he wagged his finger at the knight. Kirra Elrhanadan eyed the situation with amusement. His commander, Lady Alsha, was a patient woman, but there was a limit to how long she would tolerate anyone speaking to her in such a disrespectful manner. She was a woman of high standing, after all.


    Kirra was far more interested in the alleyway than the conversation. To the untrained eye it was quite unremarkable, a section of the city that rarely saw anything interesting, but there was definitely something about it that had his senses tingling. Whether there had been a pillar here before or not changed nothing; something had happened here. His slightly pointed ears could not stop twitching and that always meant that something magical had gone on here recently, though the physical tick could never determine anything more than that. There wasn''t enough Gor heritage left in him to discern more.


    "I understand you think that, Master Swallow," Lady Alsha replied in a patient tone but then became more aggressive as she fired off a series of questions, "But if there was a pillar here before, where did it go? And the demon that was reportedly sealed inside? Why isn''t it rampaging through the city?"


    "I have no idea. That is not my job to know," Master Swallow retorted with a glare. He folded his arms as he looked up at the taller woman and said smugly, "It''s a good thing that I''m diligent in my duties, or I would never have found out that it was missing."


    Kirra rolled his eyes. There was definitely no reason for Mr. Swallow to be so disrespectful, and now it appeared he was fishing for some form of compensation for his trouble. Even though Kirra knew that something had happened in the alleyway, he began to wonder if Master Swallow had staged it all himself and he had called them down to Pentalus entirely for the purpose of being rewarded.


    Sneering at the man''s arrogance, Lady Alsha continued to treat the issue as protocol demanded. "Yes, you''ve done your duty I suppose," she replied with a slight inclination of her head. "Do you know anything else?"


    "Not a thing," the old man answered with a shrug, earning another eye roll from Kirra. Lady Alsha caught this one out of the corner of her eye, and her mouth quirked up in a smile as Master Swallow went on, "I know it was a smaller pillar, obviously not a major one or we would know."


    "Thank you for your time Master Swallow," Lady Alsha replied with a dismissive wave toward the entrance to the alleyway. "We''ll take the matter from here."


    "Aye, I''ll be taking my leave then," Master Swallow replied in a bit of a huff. He pushed his spectacles back up his nose before straightening the clump of ledgers he held in his hands. He looked between Alsha and Kirra, bowing to both of them before shambling out of the alleyway. Lady Alsha watched him leave while Kirra took the opportunity to survey the alleyway a bit more thoroughly. He crouched down and looked at the cobblestones, noting a chalky residue on several of the stones.


    "Can you believe that?" Lady Alsha asked once the old man was out of sight, "What a lunatic! How could anyone credit what he says? A pillar just disappeared? I''m sure that the demon disappeared along with it!"


    "Hold on a second," Kirra replied tentatively. He reached out and collected a bit of the residue on his fingers and then rubbed it between his index finger and thumb. It was as he had guessed; definitely chalk. "What if he''s right? Shouldn''t we still look into this?"


    "Really? You think there''s something to his claims, Kirra?" She regarded him with a raised eyebrow. She scoffed and shook her head dramatically before going on, "I never took you for a fool. Or maybe it''s your age talking?"


    "Hey, no need to bring that up again," Kirra replied defensively, standing up and meeting her brown eyes with his violet ones, letting her see the challenge in them. "I''ve proven myself plenty of times, and you know it."


    "Yes, I suppose you have," Alsha admitted. Kirra sighed in relief, glad that his bravado hadn''t provoked further altercation. It had, in the past, with some of the commanders, but Alsha had always been fair. She proved it once again as she asked, "Okay, so what evidence makes you think that the old man is telling the truth?"


    "Look at this residue here," Kirra said as he crouched down again, pointing at the substance. "Chalk. There''s hardly any trace of it left because of the rain we''ve been having, but look at how it''s arranged on these stones, like a circle."


    "Okay, so there was a chalk circle on the ground," Alsha replied with a roll of her eyes. "I still don''t see a pillar!"


    "What if someone cast a spell here?" Kirra suggested, ignoring her sarcasm. "Didn''t the Gor use magic circles in some of their magic during the great war?"


    "You know your history well, so I''ll have to take your word on that. To be honest, I don''t really remember that chapter in my studies, so I have no idea," She replied with a shrug. She remained unconvinced as she went on, "So you''re saying that a Gor snuck into the city and released a demon? That''s even stranger than the old man''s theory! The Gor stay away from here."


    "I didn''t say a Gor did it," Kirra replied through gritted teeth, "I said that it might have been Gor magic."


    "Then who else? Who does Gor magic other than the Gor?" Alsha asked, throwing her hands up in the air. "And ancient magic at that, if they only did circle magic during the Great War."


    "Well, Neredos is Gor trained . . ." Kirra began, but was interrupted by a snort from Lady Alsha.


    "So you think that the Eternal King himself came down and released a demon using a magic circle of chalk?" Alsha replied with wide eyes. Before he could respond she snorted and added, "Kirra, you''ve got to be joking."


    "No!" Kirra answered, stomping the ground to drive the point home, "Listen to me, dammit! I''m establishing the fact that Gor magic does not have to be used by a Gor. King Neredos was once human, was he not?"


    "True," Alsha replied, finally considering the point. Her snarky attitude had disappeared when she asked, "Okay, so who then?"


    "I have no idea," Kirra replied with a shrug, which received an eye roll. Lady Alsha looked as if she were about to interrupt again, so he went on quickly, "But I think it''s worth investigating, don''t you? We have to find out if it''s true, and something did happen here, I can feel it."


    That admission stopped the words from leaving her mouth, and instead she took a deep breath, composing herself before she replied. "If you had felt something, why didn''t you say that in the first place?" She asked, almost glaring at him. "You know I would have trusted your instincts if you had said you sensed something was amiss."


    "Maybe I want to be known as something more than a divining rod?" Kirra suggested with a growl. He stood and walked back toward his commander, shrugging apologetically, "You heard what they said at my last review. The other knights think that the only qualification I have as a knight is my heritage. I wanted to make sure I had evidence to back up my claims, so that I wouldn''t have it going on record again that I think this case has merit because I sensed something."


    "But you know that I believe in your other qualifications, Kirra," Alsha replied as the young knight came to stand beside her.


    "Do you?" Kirra returned with a glare, startling her, "A second ago I was trying to explain a theory to you, and you wouldn''t even listen. Sure, you listen longest and hardest when I say I sense something, but you don''t give me a chance unless I tell you that first. Are you sure that you actually have respect for me?"


    Kirra turned and started to walk from the alleyway, but Lady Alsha caught his arm and spun him back around. Even though it wasn''t proper protocol to show such levels of affection, she brushed away the silver hair from in front of his face so that she could fully see into his eyes. "Remember, Kirra, I''m trying to accept you here. I requested you, whereas all the other commanders have been passing you around. It''s true that they can''t wait to get rid of you, but I''ve never understood their reasons," she smiled as she rested an affectionate hand on his armored shoulder, "I think of you like a son, but that also means that I sometimes get in the habit of treating you like a child. I''m sorry, and I''ll try to listen to you more in the future.


    Kirra nodded, but didn''t reply. He wanted to believe her, but he had gotten used to the fact that he couldn''t trust anyone in the Everbright City to actually do as they said. In his experience the lot of them were hypocrites, though for the most part Lady Alsha had proven to be different.


    "All right, let''s investigate this thing," Alsha said with a determined nod. Then she gestured toward the alleyway entrance. "Since I have no idea which way to go on this matter, I''m going to trust you to lead us, Kirra."


    "What!?" Kirra stammered.


    "You''re saying that you want a chance to distinguish yourself, don''t you?" Alsha replied with a sly smile, "Well I think commanding your first investigation is the right way to do that. You may be only twenty, but you''re smart, Kirra. You''re going to do fine. Come on, lead the way."


    With a bewildered smile Kirra stepped out of the alley onto the much busier street. His mind was racing as he ran through the protocol for how to handle an investigation. He had been in the Order for six years but had never been put in a position like this. None of his commanders had ever trusted him to lead anyone, for any reason, but he had still received the training necessary to accomplish the task.


    He took a deep breath and nodded to himself, firming up his resolve, and then set out to find the nearest tavern. Places of drink were the most likely to know who the locals were, since they made their profits by keeping spirits high in their communities, and his first step was finding witnesses.


    He spied a tavern a short way down the street, and began to make his way toward it, knowing that Lady Alsha would follow. Anyone who saw them coming moved out of the way. Even though Kirra himself was not keen on using his position as a Knight of the Firmament as a means to bully the populace, the citizens of Pentalus had learned long ago to avoid impeding anyone who wore the silver banded mail of the Order. It was something he was used to, and when he was in a hurry he was glad of it, but he couldn''t stand the look of fear in their eyes when they saw him. No one should be afraid of their protectors.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    When they reached the tavern, Kirra hesitated outside the swinging doors, formulating what questions he would ask. Lady Alsha came up beside him, looking down at him expectantly. His initial impression was that she was judging him, but one look at her eyes told him that she had been sincere in letting him run the show. Her support filled him with determination, and after taking a deep breath, he stepped into the Forgotten Crow.


    The place stank of alcohol and unclean bodies. This was not the richest of taverns, and serviced a clientele that matched its lack of tasteful d¨¦cor. Even the bar itself seemed grimy, and Kirra almost turned to leave in order to escape the nausea he experienced by the smell. Steeling himself, he focused on the task at hand and walked to where the bored bartender sat lazily watching the patrons who were drinking quietly at his tables.


    The bartender was caught in a daydream and failed to notice the two Knights until Kirra cleared his throat. When he turned in the direction of the noise, he was startled and dropped his rag, backing away. When his back collided with the bottle rack behind him, he stopped and stared at them as he said warily, "I''m sorry for being rude, what can I do for you?"


    "There''s no need to worry Master . . ." Kirra trailed off, waiting for the man''s name.


    "Kimbler," the man answered quickly.


    "Master Kimbler," Kirra repeated. Then with a reassuring smile he took a seat at the bar, and Lady Alsha followed suit. "Two Carambun Ales, if you would. We need refreshment."


    "As you wish," the bartender stammered, then went about filling two small tankards with the dark liquid. Setting the tankards before the knights, he didn''t even wait for them to pay before he walked away. Kirra was painfully aware of the other patrons staring at them apprehensively, but he was waiting for the right opportunity to act. If he waited long enough, the person he needed to talk to would give themselves away. He had already ruled out the bartender. He may have known something, but mostly he was just scared of them, and scared enough that he''d likely tell them anything just to get them to go away. He needed someone who knew more.


    "You''re doing well so far," Alsha said with a smile, being careful to avoid mentioning anything about their investigation. It was Kirra''s call on what to talk about, and she would follow his lead, however he chose to direct the conversation.


    "Thank you, I just hope that we can crack this thing," Kirra answered sincerely, looking in Alsha''s direction but watching the crowd behind her instead, for reactions to his words. He kept his voice low enough that it seemed he was just making conversation with her, but also projected his voice well enough that the ears in the room could hear him if they were trying to listen in. "Something happened in that alleyway, we just have to find out what."


    Lady Alsha was watching the room behind him as well as she replied, "You''re right, of course. And I''m sure that someone in the area will have something to tell us."


    "Indeed, I was thinking we should talk to the fruit merchant across the street," Kirra added nonchalantly. As soon as he finished the sentence, Lady Alsha bolted from her stool and dashed across the room, grabbing a scruffy looking man from his seat and forcing him up against the wall. In the same move she managed to draw the dagger from her belt and press it up against his ribs, her eyes telling him that if he moved an inch the dagger would go deeper.


    "Everybody else, stay where you are," Kirra commanded, glaring at the patrons until they were cowed. As soon as he was sure that there wouldn''t be any trouble, he moved to where Alsha held her prisoner and gestured for her to lighten her grip.


    "He looked relieved when you mentioned that we were looking elsewhere; he''s definitely our man," Alsha explained. She kept her eyes locked on those of her captive, and Kirra took a good look at him as well. He noted the fear in the man''s brown eyes beneath a mess of long blonde hair that hadn''t been washed in months. Then he saw that the man''s hands were clenched in fists, showing the anger buried beneath his fear. He wasn''t a large man, but he had the build of a man who had seen his fair share of hard work. He was a peasant, and peasants in Pentalus had a reputation for hating the Knights of the Firmament.


    "All right, let''s take a seat so we can talk," Kirra said, gesturing toward the chair the man had been forced out of. Alsha complied and forced him into the seat. Kirra drew his curved sword and pointed it at the man''s neck, and Alsha sheathed her dagger while she turned her attention to the rest of the room, making sure that no one tried to leave.


    "Here''s how this is going to work," Kirra explained with feigned sweetness in his voice, smiling reassuringly even as he pressed his blade closer, "Something happened in the alleyway across the street, and you''re going to tell me what you know, or you will be detained until you do."


    "I don''t know what you''re referring to," the man said weakly. Kirra''s eyes widened in surprise at the response. Whoever had this man afraid enough to resist a Knight of the Firmament with a sword to his throat was someone powerful indeed. However, that didn''t mean there weren''t ways to make the man co-operate.


    "You know full well what I am referring to," Kirra replied with a sneer. He hated lying, but sometimes it was necessary. "You know, we don''t have to detain you," he whispered so that only his captive could hear, "We could just kill you now, and make it look like an accident."


    He regretted the threat as soon as the words left his mouth, but he didn''t let his face falter. After all, the ends justified the means as long as the ends were within reason. Still, his bluff had the desired effect, and despair replaced the fear in the detainee''s eyes. Raising his hands helplessly the man said, "All right, I''ll tell you what I know, but it isn''t much. Most of us were here at the time you''re talking about, but I''m the only one who saw anything. We''re just simple people trying to survive, and we don''t want any trouble."


    "You presume to speak for everyone here?" Lady Alsha said, easily loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. She only glanced over her shoulder for a moment, but it was enough for the man to catch her glare.


    "I''m a regular here, and these people are my friends. I''m not a bad person, milady, but I''m not eager to get killed either," the detainee replied dryly, eyeing the sword at his neck anxiously, "Let these people go. What I have to say could endanger them if they knew, just like telling you will do to me."


    "Do as he says, Alsha, he''s telling the truth," Kirra said, pulling the sword back slightly from the man''s neck, giving him some room. Lady Alsha nodded and gestured toward the door, and the patrons quickly left the tavern. They were followed by the bartender himself, who was the only one to glance back at the man in concern.


    After watching the others leave, the detainee said, "That was my brother. He owns the Forgotten Crow. He has a family to protect, so I hope you''ll stay away from here after I tell you what I know." Kirra nodded, and the man continued, "Two weeks ago, this entire area was taken over by Huzain Sabreeza''s men."


    "Huzain Sabreeza?" Kirra questioned, not recognizing the name.


    "You''re really not from Pentalus, huh? Everyone in this section of the city knows Huzain," the detainee replied, shaking his head. "He runs the local merchant guild, and charges hefty taxes on everyone who wishes to open up shop in this area. He''s the real power here."


    "I understand," Kirra replied with a nod, "So when you say that he took the street over, what do you mean? Wouldn''t that have been noticeable? I would think we''d have had reports of something going on if there had been an armed force in the area."


    "You''re giving the people much more credit than they deserve," the detainee answered with a nervous chuckle, "When Sabreeza''s men come out in force, the people know to walk somewhere else, and the shops know to shut their doors and windows. An outsider wouldn''t know what was going on, if they were to walk through, since none of Sabreeza''s enforcers dress in uniform. They have an identifying mark though. Each one has a facial tattoo over their left eye in the shape of a double cross. If the symbol has any meaning other than as an identifying mark, I don''t know, but they all have it."


    Kirra settled back into the chair across from his detainee as he filed away the information for later. Though he kept his sword out, he pulled it away from the detainee''s throat. The detainee had been cooperative so far, and there wasn''t any reason to believe he''d try to escape. Even if he did, Alsha was still standing watch, and Kirra was sure she was fast enough to catch him if he did decide to make a break for it.


    "That isn''t the strange thing though," the detainee continued with a shake of his head, as if clearing away a dream, "That sort of thing happens from time to time, and the whole area knew about it. I was curious though, and I let it get the best of me. I peeked through the slats on the window shutters while everything was going down, and what I saw was more confusing than anything else."


    "And what did you see?" Kirra asked, gesturing for the detainee to go on when he hesitated.


    "Shades," the detainee replied finally. He looked as if he had been sentenced to death, but he continued anyway, "About ten of them. They were leading an Elrok down the street, covered in bundles of cloth."


    "Shades in Pentalus. . . and an Elrok?" Kirra questioned, but even when the detainee nodded Kirra asked again, "You''re sure it was an Elrok?"


    "Nothing else that walks on two legs is that big. It had to be, but it was completely covered from head to toe, so I don''t know for certain," the detainee admitted with a shrug. His eyes lit up as he remembered another detail and went on, "There was another man with them too, and he wasn''t a Shade or one of Sabreeza''s men. He was dressed in very peculiar armor, obviously an outlander. From his skin I would guess that he''s from the western desert. I watched them until they disappeared from sight. After that, the rest of them dispersed and things returned to normal."


    "You''re sure that there''s nothing else you saw?" Kirra asked with a raised eyebrow.


    "Yes, I''m sure," the detainee stated firmly, "but I''ll warn you, that if you try to investigate, you might end up dead in a back alley. No one challenges Sabreeza unless they''re sure that they can do something about it, which means no one challenges Sabreeza."


    "I think we can handle ourselves," Lady Alsha interjected, glaring at the man, "Do you really think he can take on the Knights?"


    "If you''re the only two who bothered to come down to investigate," the detainee replied dryly, "I don''t think the Knights have a great deal of interest."


    "We''ll see about that," Kirra said with more conviction than he felt, "Your information may be just the thing to pull them into this. You''ve been most helpful."


    "I''m sure the Knights will be happy to hear about how the peasants are making up stories to waste their time," the detainee continued in his dry tone, "You know, you''re the first Knights I''ve ever met who didn''t want to bully me into submission. You still did it anyway, but I could see in your eyes that you didn''t want to. That''s the only reason I told you anything."


    "We''re glad that you did, and we''re sorry that it had to go that way, honestly," Lady Alsha replied solemnly. "We are both aware that there are many in the order who think that they are better than those they protect, but please know that we are not like them. My company is dedicated to fighting the corruption within the Order''s ranks."


    "If that''s true, then why did you threaten me at all?" The man snapped. Lady Alsha''s mouth slid closed and her reassuring smile was replaced with a thoughtful frown.


    "Sometimes the ends justify the means, sir," Kirra explained, "Even if we don''t agree with them."


    "Spoken like any other authority figure," the detainee accused with a bitter laugh. He looked Kirra in the eye defiantly as he went on, "Do you really think that you''re actually different? You''ll end up becoming just like them if you keep thinking that way." Any fear of the knights that the detainee had displayed before was completely gone, and had been replaced by bitterness, and Kirra saw little reason to keep the conversation going.


    Lady Alsha seemed to agree and with a dismissive wave of her hand she said, "Thank you for your time and information, but we have to get back to working on this."


    Kirra took the cue to stand and sheathe his sword, and the two Knights turned to walk out of the tavern, but they stopped as the detainee added his final thoughts. "Keep working on it as long as you want, but you won''t solve anything. Eventually you''ll go back to your beautiful city in the clouds and forget about us down below, and we''ll still be here, trying to survive. You don''t have to live here, so what do you care?"


    "I do care," Kirra replied, meeting the detainee''s eyes one more time, "And to prove it I''m going to do everything in my power to stop Sabreeza."


    "Good luck then," the detainee replied with a nod, but then laughed bitterly again as he added, "But the next time I see you it will be in an alleyway, and I''ll be chasing the rats away from your corpse."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 7: A Pair of Nighthawks

    Styx landed gracefully upon the rooftop, making hardly a sound at all. His glide hadn''t taken him far enough to get out of Salidar''s palatial complex, and the real test of his abilities was about to begin as he tried to avoid the guards to escape.


    He crouched and moved as quickly as he could toward the edge of the roof before peering over the side, searching for any sign of movement below him. Salidar''s men were among the best at stealth that the Shade had to offer, but Styx didn''t have to see them to know that they might be there. If he looked for the patches of shadow that offered the best vantage points, he could work on the assumption that there was someone there, waiting to catch him.


    Styx was sure that Maxthane wouldn''t call the guards on him, but that didn''t mean his absence would go unnoticed for long. Salidar''s power was dependent upon having as much information as possible, and he would check on his son in time and find that Styx had escaped. Styx turned his gaze back to Maxthane''s small window set in the side of the cavern wall, where lamplight still flickered and showed that someone lived there. Styx wondered what story Maxthane would tell; if he would lie to his father or tell the truth. Maxthane had risked a great deal in letting him go, and Styx wouldn''t blame him for lying about how Styx had escaped.


    There was more to Maxthane than Styx had originally admitted, and he hoped that he would be able to make good on his unheard promise to return. He had never felt connected to someone before, but their last kiss still lingered on his lips. Whatever strange circumstances had brought them together, Styx couldn''t put the feeling of Max''s skin out of his mind.


    Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he returned his focus to the task at hand. He could do nothing for Max until he escaped. He surveyed the shadows a second time to be certain of his route, and was about to move forward when a hand reached from behind to cover his mouth, while a knife was put against his ribs.


    "Don''t make a sound, all right?" Styx recognized the man''s voice but couldn''t place it. "I don''t want to hurt you, but I had to make sure you wouldn''t react when you saw me. I''m going to put my knife away and let you go."


    Styx nodded and the man released him. He turned slowly, not wanting to make any sudden moves lest he find the knife returning to his ribcage, and took a good look at the man that had managed to sneak up on him. It was the man who had helped Grim save him from the poison; Prism, if Styx remembered correctly.


    "Are you going to turn me in?" Styx asked, keeping his voice at a whisper. He shifted his stance, preparing to run if Prism answered in the affirmative. Prism was not a Shade; his accent, and the lack of the Shadesight tattoo made that easy to determine, but he was walking freely in Salidar''s complex, and that was cause enough for suspicion.


    "Do you think I work for Salidar?" Prism whispered with a raised eyebrow. Shrugging, he drew his knife again, and Styx almost ran until the man flipped the knife over and handed it to him, hilt first. "Here, if we''re going to escape, you might need a weapon."


    "We''re going to escape?" Styx asked, taking the knife cautiously, "You''re a prisoner as well?"


    "Salidar calls me a ''guest''," Prism replied with a smile. He waved for Styx to follow him as he headed toward the other side of the rooftop.


    "Hang on," Styx said, catching up to Prism. He extended the knife back toward its owner as he insisted, "I work alone. And I intend to escape alone. I can''t have anyone else dragging me down."


    "Do you believe in blood debts, Styx?" Prism asked, ignoring the knife, "And repaying the people who save your life?"


    "I suppose I do owe you," Styx admitted. "What exactly do you want from me?"


    "Before I came across you I was going to have to attempt an escape blind," Prism explained. "I''m not from here, and my eyes are not accustomed to the darkness. You, on the other hand, walk as if this terrain is your home. I need a guide if I''m going to make it out of here without having to kill people, and I don''t like killing needlessly."


    "So you want me to risk my neck to save you?" Styx asked. He glanced toward the outer wall of the complex and his intended escape route and then back to Prism.


    "No. You don''t owe a blood debt to me. I didn''t save your life, Grim did." With a smile that said it didn''t matter to him which way Styx decided, he explained, "I just so happen to be on my way to free him right now. If you have any honor, you''ll join me and repay your debt."


    Without waiting for a reply, Prism peered over the edge of the rooftop and then jumped down to the shadowed passageway between the structures. Styx took a quick look over his shoulder, hesitating as he considered abandoning Prism, and then his conscience got the better of him. He did owe a great deal to Grim. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and then turned back to where Prism was moving through the darkness and jumped down to join him, hoping he wouldn''t regret it.


    An enemy was upon him the second he was on the ground, a guard with a bow drawn and pointed in his direction who had failed to notice Prism''s movements. The guard opened his mouth to call out to his fellow guards when Prism appeared behind him, cutting off his air supply with a chokehold. The archer crumpled to the ground instantly, unconscious, and Styx turned to give Prism an appreciative nod. Prism didn''t waste any more time with the body, and he smiled and nodded back to Styx before waving him forward. Styx hurried after Prism but glanced down at the guard as he rushed past, realizing that he now owed Prism as much as he owed Grim.


    They reached a door a short time later, and Prism leaned against it with his ear. Prism nodded and then opened the door slowly before heading down a narrow flight of stairs on the other side. At the bottom of the staircase was a room that Styx recognized. Caged animals stirred as Prism and Styx stepped into the large dungeon that led to the gladiators'' prison. Prism motioned for Styx to stop as he nodded toward the lone guard who stood at the side of the ironbound door. It was Jakkel, in his beetle likeness, lazily tapping his sword against the wall.


    "You lost, mate?" Jakkel asked, noticing them right away. He squinted through the slits of his helmet, his vision obscured much more by the metal than by the darkness. Styx was sure that Jakkel was a Shade, and therefore was guaranteed to have the ability to see as well in the dark as Styx could. Though Jakkel''s position didn''t change, he stopped tapping his sword as his eyes fell upon Styx. "Hey, I know you. You''re that kid they threw in earlier today. Did you come to rejoin your friends?"


    Prism stayed motionless, keeping his eyes on Jakkel while the guard stayed where he was. Styx looked between them, waiting for one of them to make the next move until Jakkel interrupted the silence. "I suppose not. So, you''re insane then. Come and try me. You''ll regret it."


    Prism dashed toward Jakkel quicker than Styx could follow with his eyes, much less his feet. As he neared Jakkel''s position he leapt into the air, aiming a kick toward Jakkel''s helmeted head. Jakkel barely managed to get his sword in position in time to deflect the attack, forcing Prism to adjust and kick off of the flat of the blade, rebounding in a perfect backflip. He landed in a ready stance and beckoned Jakkel toward him.


    Jakkel didn''t need to be invited twice. With a sinister laugh he charged toward Prism, sword leveled at Prism''s midsection. Much faster than the armored warrior, Prism stepped to the side at the last second and dropped to the ground, rolling past Jakkel and coming up behind him. Before Jakkel could turn around, Prism was already standing and delivering a side-kick to Jakkel''s back. The kick connected solidly and sent Jakkel sprawling forward from both the momentum of the kick with what was left of Jakkel''s own charge.


    Jakkel landed hard against the floor at Styx''s feet, and Styx jumped back to avoid the collision before dashing back into range with his knife in hand. He pulled up short as Jakkel rose to one knee and glared at him, promising instant death at the end of his sword if Styx were to come any closer. Styx glanced past to see that Prism was in the process of removing the first of the three lock bars that held shut the door to the gladiators'' cell.


    Prism was reaching for the second lock bar by the time that Jakkel was on his feet again, turning his attention away from Styx and back to Prism, leaving his back exposed to Styx. Styx stepped forward, seeking an opening in Jakkel''s armor only to find that Jakkel had anticipated the maneuver and spun around to backhand Styx across his cheek with a gauntleted hand. Pain shot through Styx''s face as he fell to the ground several feet away, momentarily dazed by the strike.


    Styx reached up to his cheek as Jakkel glanced at him with a sneer and said, "Wait your turn, kid. I''ll kill you after I kill your friend." The loud clang of metal on stone as Prism discarded the second lock bar brought Jakkel''s attention back to Prism as he prepared his footwork for another charge.


    Before Jakkel started his charge, Prism turned and began walking calmly toward with him. Jakkel shifted his feet back to a more stable stance and gripped his sword in both hands as he waited for Prism to come to him. Prism''s arms were at his sides, leaving his torso open to attack if Jakkel pressed forward, but Jakkel waited until Prism was within range and then thrust forward with remarkable speed. Prism stepped to the side and then in, fluidly moving to the side of the sword and catching Jakkel''s extended arm.


    Prism stepped forward again as he simultaneously crouched down and twisted underneath Jakkel''s arm and then twisted that arm behind Jakkel''s back, causing him to pitch forward with what was left of his momentum. Prism released his grip on Jakkel and let him fall forward, though he slid his hand down to snatch the sword from Jakkel''s grasp in the process. Prism tossed the sword to the side and then crouched down by Jakkel''s side and reached for his arm, preparing to pin him.


    As Prism reached out, Jakkel rolled onto his back and raised his foot, revealing a row of nasty spikes along the bottom of his boot before kicking out toward Prism''s exposed side. Prism rolled backward and out of the way, but the maneuver bought Jakkel enough time to regain his footing and pick up his sword. He was snarling as he faced Prism again, but there was a glint in his eye that said that he was enjoying himself. "You''re really good, I admit it. You might even win," Jakkel conceded. "But I''m not out of tricks yet."


    Jakkel drove forward, attacking in a flurry of tight thrusts that kept his arms close to his body, giving Prism no opportunity to grab him again. None of the strikes came close to hitting Prism''s quick form either, and Jakkel''s expression turned from one of determination to one of frustration and then desperation. Jakkel stabbed forward once more, but pulled back at the last second and swung up with his gauntleted hand, catching Prism in the face. Styx heard the sound of metal on metal as Jakkel''s fist collided with Prism''s cheek, and Prism was hardly staggered by the blow. He rolled with the punch and caught Jakkel''s arm, giving him an opening to strike at Jakkel''s armored torso.


    Prism pummeled Jakkel''s stomach and chest with a quick series of punches that were strong enough to dent the armor, and followed it up with one quick side-kick that struck Jakkel squarely in the center of his chest. Jakkel flew backward and crashed into one of the cages, his sword falling to the ground beside him. The large cat inside, a variety of tiger with a black base coat and white stripes, seemed less than pleased to have its cage shaken. It growled and readied itself to pounce on Jakkel as he lay against the bars of the cage.


    The cat never pounced, and as Jakkel rose to his feet he declared, "Hah, it''s not over yet!" With a snarl he reached up to the pin holding the cage closed and opened the door. The snarling cat eagerly took the offered escape route and then took up a defensive position in front of Jakkel. Jakkel smiled in triumph and commanded the cat, "Get the dark one, Tiba!" The cat was eager to please its master and charged toward Prism and pounced, its snarling jaws aimed directly for Prism''s throat. Prism met the cat''s jaws with his arm bracer as the cat bore him to the ground.


    Styx watched in horror as Prism wrestled with the cat, but his terror doubled as Jakkel turned his murderous eyes toward him. With a sinister grin, Jakkel moved toward Styx after reaching down to retrieve his sword. Though his feet urged him to run, Styx forced himself to stay after glancing at Prism. If he abandoned Prism now then Prism was sure to be killed. Styx couldn''t allow that; he owed the man his life.


    "You honestly think you can take me on, kid?" Jakkel cackled, stopping just a few feet in front of him, "Your friend over there may have what it takes, but I''ve already seen how you fight. You did a pretty well against that demon, I admit, but you can''t even think straight while you''re facing death, can you?"The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Styx glanced at Prism again. The cat seemed to be doing all it could to rake Prism''s torso to pieces as its claws shredded the cloth and leather that protected Prism''s flesh. Prism punched at the cat''s face repeatedly, causing blood to splatter across the dungeon floor, though Styx couldn''t tell how much belonged to the cat and how much was Prism''s.


    "Are you gonna stand there, or are you going to fight me?" Styx growled, ignoring the man''s attempt to unnerve him. He shifted his feet, rising up on the balls of his feet as he prepared to spring away when Jakkel came at him. As his feet shifted he also changed his grip on the knife in his hands, preparing to throw it if he found an effective opening.


    "I admit, you''ve got some fight in ya, but it''s nothing against my skill. Are you prepared to die?" Jakkel slashed at Styx''s neck as he finished his sentence, and Styx ducked low and then sprang to the side before moving backward toward the stairs. Another slash caused Styx to move another step back, and a quick glance over his shoulder told him that he was quickly running out of space.


    "You can''t run forever, kid," Jakkel taunted as Styx dodged backward again, "Even if you dodge me all day, eventually the other guards are gonna come looking down here. You''re not going to escape, and you might as well surrender."


    "No, thank you," Styx replied, breathing heavily. Jakkel was relentless in his assault, and Styx was quickly losing stamina in the face of the swinging and thrusting blade, especially considering that he was still feeling the effects of dehydration. He wasn''t sure what would happen first, running out of room or running out of adrenaline. Either way, he was going to die unless he could come up with a different plan.


    "Suit yourself," Jakkel replied with a snarl and hacked downward with his sword. Styx dodged to his right, only to find Jakkel''s sword thrusting toward his stomach as he fell for the feint. Styx dropped to the ground in desperation to get out of the way of the sword. Grinning in triumph, Jakkel readjusted his thrust and aimed down at his prone target.


    With one last desperate burst of speed, Styx rolled away from the strike. Though it didn''t pierce his flesh, it punctured the leather membrane of his gliding armor, pinning him in place. The pin halted his momentum, leaving him in line for another strike, and Jakkel quickly pulled back to stab at him again. Styx kicked out with his foot, and through sheer luck he managed to hit the inside of Jakkel''s knee hard enough to bring Jakkel crashing down on top of him.


    The heavy weight of Jakkel and his armor falling onto his chest knocked the breath out of him. By the time Styx recovered he knew that he was dead. He lashed out with his knife but Jakkel pinned his arm down with one hand and sneered at Styx as he raised his other gauntleted hand to smash it into Styx''s face. Styx closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact, but it never came. He heard the sound of metal on metal, and felt Jakkel''s weight slip off of him.


    His eyes shot open and he looked up into Prism''s eyes, which were filled with concern. Prism extended his hand to help him up, and Styx took it eagerly, allowing Prism to pull him to his feet. Only then did Styx look for Jakkel and found him lying motionless on the floor, unconscious or dead.


    Styx spared a glance in the direction of the cat, and gasped when he saw the bloody mess that Prism had made of its face. He wasn''t sure if the cat was still alive, but if it did manage to survive, it would likely never fully heal from its wounds. They had won the fight, and the only thing that stood in the way of freeing Grim was the large iron door, still locked by a single lock bar.


    Prism was already moving toward the door, and with little effort he removed the final bar and flung it wide. The room was just as bright as it had been when Styx had been there hours before, and many of the gladiators were talking quietly amongst themselves while several of their number slept. Grim was standing and speaking with a small group and looked over when the door swung open. His eyes widened as he recognized Prism standing in the doorway.


    "Grim?" Prism asked as he stepped into the room and his eyes adjusted to the light. "Grim, let''s go!"


    "Prism! What are you doing here?" Grim replied, his surprise not diminishing at all. He glanced past Prism and noticed Styx coming through the doorway as well, "Styx? You''re escaping?"


    "Yes, and we''re taking you with us," Styx replied quickly, stepping around Prism and into the room. Remembering that the guards they had dispatched could wake up at any moment, he added an urgent plea, "Now come on. Let''s go."


    "I''m sorry, Prism, Styx, but no," Grim replied. "I can''t. Not unless you have a plan for getting all of us out at any rate. I can''t leave them."


    "You told me ''he'' was here," Prism replied carefully, locking eyes with Grim. "We need to get you to safety."


    "No. What I need to do is see this through, Prism," Grim replied coldly, but his features softened as he explained. "I don''t believe he''s aware of my identity. I''m safe here, and I need to keep these people safe. With Kutos and Hurr dead someone has to lead these people or they''ll all die in the pit."


    The gladiators around Grim looked to him in a mixture of concern and gratitude, though a few of them looked eager. The door was open after all, and that meant an opportunity to escape for some of them. Styx picked up on their eagerness and suggested, "What if we all escape together?"


    "Not an option, Styx," Grim replied grimly, "I''m afraid that such a large group will be noticed too quickly, and most of us will die in the process. No, save yourselves, and let me worry about them. I can keep them alive, I''m sure of it."


    To Styx''s surprise, he found the rest of the room nodding. For whatever reason, they trusted Grim''s words and judgment. Even though the door was open, none of them were going to take the opportunity without his consent. Kutos hadn''t been lying when he said that there was a structure to how things worked amongst the gladiators, and it was apparent that Grim was the new person in charge.


    "Are you sure about this?" Prism asked in concern, "I don''t know if you''ll get a second chance to escape."


    "I''m sure," Grim replied firmly, "This is too important. I''ve taken too many lives to not save one when I can." He shook his head and sighed, but then, with resolve strong in his eyes, he added, "Besides, being this close to him might mean I can end this. You know I may be the only one who can."


    "What about Veil?" Prism asked, "Is she still alive?"


    "She''s changed, Prism," Grim answered with another head shake, "All of us who survived have changed, except you. You''ll find out when you get out of here. Speaking of which, you should really get going before you run into problems."


    "Very well," Prism replied with a nod, "I''ll leave, but I hope to see you again, my brother."


    "We will," Grim agreed with a sad smile, "At some point or another. No one lives forever."


    Styx caught a glint of steel out of the corner of his eye moving through the doorway. Jakkel stepped through, his sword leading the way and aimed straight for Prism''s back and Styx shouted in warning, "Prism, watch out!"


    Prism heard the shout and stepped to the side, spinning around to face Jakkel. Grim instantly dodged in the opposite direction to avoid the strike and then quickly stepped into Jakkel and slid his hand up Jakkel''s helmet and onto his cheek.


    Jakkel began to convulse, and the sword dropped from his grasp and clattered to the ground. Styx gasped as the guard''s skin began to pale and wrinkle, and his hair turned a ghastly white. In seconds his body crumpled to the ground, now an elderly man. Styx turned his horrified gaze back to Grim who was no longer smiling, and instead was staring down at Jakkel with profound sadness as he lowered his hand to his side. Silence covered the room as the gladiators watched him solemnly. They had seen him do this before, and Styx knew this was what he had to do every time he was forced to kill in the arena. There was no wonder that it bothered him. It was horrific.


    "Will I ever repay my debts to you Grim?" Prism asked in astonishment as he rested a hand on Grim''s shoulder, staring at Jakkel''s decrepit corpse in wonder, "Thank you. Stay safe."


    "You know better than to thank me for killing someone, Prism!" Grim snapped like lightning. Prism reeled back at the admonishment and lowered his eyes in shame. Grim softened his voice as he added, "Get out of here and stay alive. The world needs you now more than it did before."


    Prism looked back to Grim''s face and nodded before patting Grim on the shoulder. He smiled apologetically but then stepped back through the doorway without offering another word. Then he paused and turned back to look at Grim one last time. He covered the distance between them and wrapped Grim up in an embrace that Grim did not reciprocate. When Prism let Grim go he whispered softly, "I have a promise to keep to you, but it seems the war isn''t over yet. I''ll be back for you, Grim."


    "I haven''t forgotten," Grim replied with a blank expression. "Now go. We''ll meet again soon enough." Prism nodded slowly and turned again toward the doorway. He didn''t look back as he stepped through and retraced their steps toward the staircase that led out of the room. Styx moved to follow but held back as Grim laid a hand on his shoulder.


    "Styx. Thank you for coming for me," Grim said, the sad smile once again on his face. "I don''t know what persuaded you to come with Prism, but you''ve proven yourself honorable today."


    Styx responded with a simple nod and followed Prism from the room. They left the door open, and Styx wondered if Prism had done so intentionally so that the gladiators could still escape if they chose to. Styx realized that it didn''t make a difference. Grim had no intention of escaping, and from what he had witnessed moments before, he had more than enough capability of protecting the rest of the gladiators.


    They made their way back up the staircase, retracing their route step for step. As they passed the archer, Prism heard a moan that said that he was starting to stir, and with a quick kick the man was unconscious again. Styx wondered what was going through Prism''s mind as they scaled the wall of the nearby structure, bringing them back up to the rooftops. Prism''s face was stoic, and his movements did little to suggest that his thoughts were focused on anything other than the task of their escape, but Styx could tell that leaving Grim behind was bothering Prism more than he was showing.


    "All right, I could tell when I stopped you up here that you already had a plan in mind," Prism said quietly as they reached the point where they had first met on the rooftops. "Tell me what it was."


    "I don''t know if you can take that route," Styx answered. "I had planned on gliding from rooftop to rooftop, and then when we reached the wall by the Black Lake, I intended to glide down to the shore."


    "Let''s try it anyway. I''m sure I can jump most of the gaps between the buildings, even if I have to take it a bit slower to ensure I can make it," Prism replied, looking over the suggested route with a nod, "If not, I''ll make do. The Black Lake is that shadowy area over there without any lights, I''m assuming?"


    "That''s the one," Styx agreed. "Are you ready to move forward?"


    "That''s the only way to move, Styx," Prism answered with a grin. He took a few steps back, then quickly ran the small distance to the edge of the rooftop, then pushed off with his powerful legs to propel his body forward. He cleared the gap easily and landed smoothly, He turned around and gestured for Styx to follow. With a smile and a nod, Styx took his own running start and joined him. They continued the process as they crossed the complex, coming ever closer to the Black Lake and avoiding the attention of the guards. The guards were watching for people breaking into the complex, and not focused on those trying to escape. They only encountered one gap that was difficult to clear, and Styx was surprised to find that he was the one who barely caught the edge, only to have Prism quickly pull him up.


    As they reached the wall of the complex that overlooked the lake, they noted that the guards on the wall were further apart in this section. Styx wasn''t surprised at the lack of personnel, as the only way in or out was the precipitous drop to the narrow shore beside the lake. It was easy for them to find an opportunity to jump and glide over to the wall without being noticed, and to quickly drop down to the rocky shore below. Styx glided down through the use of his hawk tattoo, while Prism slid down the wall, slowing his descent until he hit the ground and rolled to avoid injury.


    They kept silent as they moved, not wanting to risk the chance that they would be discovered by anyone, even though they had already made it a fair distance. Now that they were free, Styx had the opportunity to think about what had happened. He ran through the whole day, from his heist, to the fight in the arena, but then stopped as he thought of Maxthane. He looked back toward the window on the cavern wall that still held a spot of flickering lamp light, and was momentarily overcome by a feeling of longing. He shook his head in an attempt to put it out of his mind and moved on to think about their escape, and what Grim had said.


    It was then that Prism decided to break the silence between them. "Something bothering you, Styx?" he asked. "We''re free, but you don''t look pleased."


    "I don''t understand what Grim meant," Styx replied, surprising himself by answering honestly, "I''ve always been told that there is no such thing as honor among thieves, and I''ve been a thief my whole life. Honor is never something I''ve considered before."


    Prism laughed, and Styx looked at him in confusion. "Sometimes we get trapped in clich¨¦s when we''re trying to understand the world," Prism explained with a knowing smile.


    "What do you mean?" Styx asked.


    "Honor . . ." Prism began, pausing as he searched for a means to explain his thoughts. "What is honor exactly? Respecting your fellows? Fulfilling oaths and debts? Being worthy of respect? The Order I belonged to, which has surely disappeared by now, taught that all life is worthy of respect, and all life deserves to be honored. You are born with honor, Styx, but retaining it depends on how you live your life."


    "So I suppose Grim''s wrong then," Styx said with a shrug, "I''ve never given a second thought for anyone other than myself since I was a kid."


    "I didn''t say he was wrong," Prism replied firmly. "If being a thief makes you dishonorable, then none of us has any honor at all. We are all thieves, Styx, from the moment we take our first breath. The world belongs to everyone, and simply by trying to survive in it, we all end up taking for ourselves things that belong to someone else. Being a thief does not mean you do not have honor."


    Styx was silent as he digested the information. He realized others had treated him honorably the whole day, from the time that Dogo had told him that his best chance was escaping, to Maxthane letting him go. And he would never be able to forget the honorable Kutos and what he had done for him, not to mention Grim who had proven most honorable of all, with his intent to protect the other prisoners.


    "What are you planning on doing when we reach the surface?" Prism asked a few moments later, drawing Styx out of his introspection.


    "I don''t know," Styx replied. "I haven''t thought that far ahead."


    "You are welcome to come with me," Prism suggested cautiously, "I have to reach King Neredos."


    "I suppose we''ll see what happens when we get to the top then," Styx replied with a shrug, "I may simply try to leave the city far behind."


    "The way you keep glancing over your shoulder," Prism observed, "I don''t think you can stay away for long."


    Styx smiled sadly at the thought. He hadn''t realized he had done it so many times, but he caught himself once again staring at the spot of light in the cavern wall. "No, perhaps you''re right," Styx admitted, but with a grim nod he added, "Either way, for now my path lies upward."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 8: The Nature of Kirra

    "All right Kirra, what is our next step?" Lady Alsha asked as they stepped out of the tavern and onto the busy street. It was late afternoon and the city was bustling with people going about their business, doing all they could to make use of the fading daylight. There wasn''t a great deal of daytime left for them to continue their investigation, and if they made the attempt after nightfall, they were sure to attract a great deal of attention.


    Kirra remained undeterred by the lateness of the hour, though he was having reservations of a different sort. "Something is going on. We know that now. Don''t you want to take command?"


    "If it comes to that, yes," Alsha replied, but she smiled and insisted, "but you''re doing well. I see no reason to step in yet."


    "Very well," Kirra agreed, resolving to make good use of the experience, "I suppose we need to find out more about this Sabreeza. Unless you think that we should confront him openly?"


    "I think a little more reconnaissance is in order," Alsha agreed. "Where should we look next?"


    "If he leads the merchant guild, perhaps we should visit a merchant in the area?" Kirra wondered aloud, then with a mischievous grin he said, "Maybe we should visit the fruit vendor across the street."


    "That sounds like a solid idea," Alsha replied with a reserved smile. "However I don''t think the fruit seller is a big enough player to provide us with the information we require."


    "So we need someone more established, with more to lose if he falls out of favor with Sabreeza," Kirra responded thoughtfully.


    "Good, you''re starting to think like a proper investigator, Kirra," Alsha commended, clapping him on his shoulder, "Do you have any merchants in mind?"


    Kirra began walking down the street, looking in detail at every shop and stall they passed. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he was hoping that he would spot something that would lead him in the right direction. After a block of walking he had yet to come up with anything. He was sure he had missed something, and was starting to get frustrated. Alsha was looking at him with concern, though he knew that she wouldn''t say anything until he asked. Driven by the need to avoid letting her down, he stopped walking for a moment to calm himself. Drawing upon his heritage, he took several meditative breaths and reached out with his Gor senses.


    The difference was subtle, but by entering that state he became calmer. It was a calm like that of being at the eye of a storm, giving him the opportunity to observe the swirling chaos around him with greater clarity. In this state, he could see and hear things that a full-blooded human would never perceive.


    His eyes flashed open and he saw what he had missed. In a window of a shop across the street was a sign that read: "twenty-five years serving Pentalus". He smiled as the words rolled through his mind. If there was any indicator of a well-established business, that was it.


    "How about that one?" He said to his commander, pointing at the small shop.


    "A blacksmith, huh?" Lady Alsha replied. She shrugged and smiled as she conceded, "It''s worth a shot I suppose. Okay, what''s your plan?"


    "I don''t know, to be honest," Kirra answered, shaking his head helplessly, "I would prefer to do it without threatening the shop owner."


    Lady Alsha nodded understandingly. It wasn''t a tactic she was keen on either, and Kirra knew she was more than happy to support that line of thought. But he was at a loss on how to avoid it, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Alsha offered a suggestion. "We could always go incognito."


    "What exactly did you have in mind?" Kirra asked, intrigued by the prospect.


    "Mr. Swallow ought to know a thing or two about the area, considering all of the diligent watching over the pillars he does here," Alsha replied dryly, drawing a snicker from Kirra. She went on with a broad grin, "Perhaps he''ll be able to give us a tip or two on blending in."


    "You really want to go back to that old man?" Kirra asked. "I didn''t think you cared for him."


    "I don''t," she said with a sigh. Raising her hands helplessly she added, "But what other option do we have?"


    They returned to where they had first met with the old clerk earlier that day, before following him to the alleyway where they had begun their investigation in the first place. They climbed the two flights of stairs that led them to Mister Swallow''s cluttered office, pausing outside his door as they watched the clerk through the window, bent over a desk covered with ledgers. Kirra knocked four times on the door and Mister Swallow looked up with a start and then moved toward the door with a ledger still in his hand. When he answered their knock, he was muttering to himself about the Knights of the Order and was genuinely embarrassed when he saw who had come calling. In his chagrin he invited them inside, surprised to see them again.


    When they explained that they had been looking into the matter of the missing pillar, Mister Swallow was delighted. He admitted to them that he hadn''t expected anything would come of it, but was pleased they had taken him seriously. Mister Swallow proved to be a much greater help than they had expected, and was able to direct them to a nearby shop where they could acquire less conspicuous outfits.


    They were back on the street a short time later with sunset fast approaching, heading back toward the blacksmith shop. They had left their armor behind with Mister Swallow, knowing that even a glint of it through their new heavy cloaks would betray their true identities. Kirra had gone so far as to add charcoal dust to his platinum hair, giving it a gritty appearance, while Alsha had settled on wearing a hood and dust mask instead. Both hoped it was enough to prevent them from being recognized, and that they would be seen as newcomers to the area.


    Still, the changes had not come without consequences. "This cloak is the itchiest thing I have ever put on," Kirra complained, using all his willpower to prevent himself reaching back to adjust it again, "What is it made out of, wool or burlap?"


    "You''re the one that chose it, Kirra," Alsha reminded him. "Stop complaining, we''re almost there."


    "I''ll try," Kirra promised. Even as the words left his mouth he had to grit his teeth to avoid cursing about the cloak again. He contemplated tearing it off his back when they arrived at the front of the blacksmith''s shop. In the face of his next task he forced the irritation to the back of his mind, and took a deep breath before pulling open the wooden door and stepping into the shop.


    Racks of swords and knives lined the walls, and a single suit of armor sat on display in one corner. Behind the counter was a large array of swords which appeared to be of finer quality. His eyes instantly fell upon those, and a plan for how to proceed formed in his mind. He directed his focus to the large, bearded man behind the counter who greeted him with a smile and said, "Welcome to the Blacksteel Anvil! What can I do for you today?"


    "I''m looking for a new sword," Kirra answered smoothly, "to complement the one I''ve already got." He moved back his cloak to display his curved blade. The blacksmith''s eyes widened as he gestured to have it drawn and presented to him. Kirra complied with a nod, drawing it from its gilded sheath and handing it formally to the blacksmith.


    It was a remarkable blade, light and strong, and made with a metal that resembled silver but held a much keener edge. The hilt was crafted of a dark wood known as Ebrani, and had been treated to preserve it through the centuries. It was the finest sword that Kirra had ever seen, and was the one thing he had left of his father''s, who had also been a Knight of the Firmament. The blacksmith seemed no less impressed by the blade''s quality, and Kirra knew there would be little chance of him finding a match among his stock.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Oh my, that is a splendid blade!" the blacksmith exclaimed as he whistled through his teeth, "Where on earth did you get it?"


    "It''s a family heirloom," Kirra explained, deciding that telling the truth on this matter would chance very little. "It''s a quicksilver blade, Gor made. I understand that there is little chance you have one that will compare, but I''m interested in training with two weapons, and I would like to be balanced."


    "Ah, well you''re right that there isn''t much I have that even approaches this in quality, but you''re welcome to look at what I have in stock," the blacksmith replied, returning the blade to Kirra. Kirra sheathed the sword as the blacksmith gestured to the swords hanging behind the counter and said, "I carry fine blades made of the highest quality Hawthane steel. It''s not Gor, but it serves the Knights of the Firmament just fine."


    "You supply the Knights?" Kirra asked in surprise as he pointed at one of the blades. It was a curved sabre of similar length to his own blade, but as the blacksmith handed it over for his inspection he found it to be much heavier. He shook his head and it was taken away, and Kirra resumed looking over the blades.


    "Most certainly," the man answered with pride, "I''ve had many men and women from the Order venture into my shop over the years, looking for a new blade to help them uphold the law."


    "Sounds like you''re a true patriot," Kirra replied with a smile, trying to avoid sounding patronizing. "Well, I''ll keep looking at what you have, but I hope you won''t be offended if I don''t choose one of them."


    "With a blade like that, I''ll be surprised if you can find its match anywhere in Pentalus," the owner conceded, then added with a shrug, "At least not cheaply."


    "Are there any other merchants in the area that might carry something of such a quality?" Kirra asked, taking his gaze off the weapon racks and meeting the man''s eyes so that he knew he was serious as he explained, "Money is not an object."


    "In this area?" the blacksmith asked, leaning back on his heels with a thoughtful expression. "To be honest . . ." He paused and scratched his chin, "I''m not sure."


    "What about the local merchant''s guild?" Lady Alsha asked, stepping up to the counter and lowering her dust mask, "Would they have some idea?"


    Kirra was glad she hadn''t decided to remain silent. He had been at a loss for steering the conversation in the direction it needed to go, and was even more grateful when the blacksmith replied, "I suppose you can always ask. Their charter house is on the other end of the block."


    "Will they provide me with the answers I''m looking for?" Kirra asked, following through on the opening that Alsha had provided him. "I don''t want to waste my time if I''m just going to get tied up in bureaucracy."


    "Maybe," the blacksmith answered dryly. Rolling his eyes he added, "For a price."


    "What do you mean?" Alsha asked.


    "Well, I try to avoid saying anything bad about the guild," the blacksmith replied with a nervous chuckle.


    "Come on," Kirra insisted, "I need to know what I''m getting into."


    "All right, I suppose it won''t cause any harm in telling you," the blacksmith agreed after his eyes darted cautiously to the window at the front of his shop. "It''s rough being a merchant in this section of the city," he explained with a sigh, "The local guild is run by a man named Huzain Sabreeza. Ever since he took over the guild, it''s become more of a thieves'' guild than a merchants'' guild, if you ask me. Hell, ask anyone, they''ve all felt the pressure since he came to power."


    "What do you mean?" Kirra asked, letting his genuine interest show on his face, "What exactly has he done?"


    The blacksmith leaned forward after glancing at the window again and explained, "He forces taxes upon us at outrageous rates. I''ve had good friends in the area who have been forced out of business because they either couldn''t or wouldn''t pay." He continued with an angry tone, "If I weren''t so well established, I''d probably be feeling the pressure too."


    "From the quality of your wares, I''m not surprised you have enough customers who keep coming back," Kirra replied honestly. "Still, that is very unfortunate news. Why haven''t you mentioned it to those Knights who frequent your shop? Aren''t there laws against guilds imposing such hefty taxes? Where we''re from, the guilds are kept in check by the government."


    "As much as I hate to speak ill of my friends in the Order, the Knights would never do anything about this," the blacksmith replied bitterly, "Why would they waste their time solving the problems of peasants? It''s simply not in their nature. Besides, if I were the one who ratted Sabreeza out, then I''d be taken out of business for sure, and long before the Knights ever did a thing. They''d be too tied up in bureaucracy to help me in time."


    Even though he wished the blacksmith''s mistrust of the Order was unfounded, Kirra had to agree that the evidence supported the man''s case. The Order had become bureaucratic, if it had ever been any different. "That is unfortunate," Kirra replied sincerely, "but we do what we must for our survival, don''t we?"


    "Indeed my young friend. You speak with a great deal of wisdom for one your age," the blacksmith replied with a sly smile, "I''ve got a daughter I''d like you to meet, if you''re available."


    "Is she pretty?" Kirra replied with a smile of his own. He laughed at the blacksmith''s surprised expression and said, "I kid, my good sir. I must decline your offer I''m afraid. I''ve already promised myself to someone else. Thank you for the compliment all the same."


    "Ah well," the blacksmith said as his smile faltered, "I''m sure she''ll find a man in time. As for you," he added with a touch of finality, "I suggest you shop around. If money is no object, then I suppose it is worth your while to go to one of the more prestigious shops. Perhaps you could order something special from a shop in the Everbright City if you find someone with contacts there."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," Kirra replied with a nod. Realizing that the blacksmith had tired of their conversation, and had been offended by the rejection of his daughter, Kirra made to leave and said, "Thank you for your time. I''ll make sure to recommend the Blacksteel Anvil to my friends when they''re in need of a new blade."


    "You''re too kind," the man replied with a tight smile. Kirra responded with a casual wave as he made for the door with Alsha right on his heels. It wasn''t until they were a good distance from the building that he finally slowed down. Only when he realized that he had to catch his breath did he realize how fast a pace he had set.


    "That was interesting," Lady Alsha said without emotion. Kirra didn''t look toward her at all. What he heard in her voice was disappointment, and he didn''t want to see it in her face.


    "We didn''t find out anything about what Sabreeza was doing in that alleyway," Kirra replied bitterly, "It felt like a waste of time to me."


    "Actually," Alsha admitted, "I learned quite a bit."


    "About our mission?" Kirra asked, maintaining his bitterness until he decided to look at her face. He didn''t see the disappointment he had expected, and instead saw an expression of support.


    "No, most of what that old man told us were things we could have found out from practically anyone," she admitted, "Though it is nice to know that there are still decent people around." She smiled slyly as she added, "He was pleasant to talk to, and I''m sure his daughter would have been as well."


    "No thanks," Kirra replied with an involuntary shiver, "I''d rather not go down that road."


    "Why is that?" Alsha asked quietly. "Because you''re promised to someone? You never told me you were courting anyone."


    "I''m not," Kirra admitted, "but I don''t fancy the idea of taking up with a random merchant''s daughter either."


    "But you would take a son?" Alsha stated more than asked, her feigned surprise disappeared as she smiled at him again.


    "I . . ." Kirra started to reply, but then it was his turn to be surprised as he asked, "How did you know?"


    "Oh please, it''s not that hard to tell when you''re watching for it," Alsha explained, draping her arm around his shoulder. They started to walk down the street again as she went on, "There''s more than one reason why your fellow Knights have an issue with you. It''s not just because they think you''re useless. They worry about sleeping in the same barracks, and sharing the public baths with you. Needlessly, I''m sure. I''ve never met a man in the Order that I''d want to have a little fun with, and I''m willing to bet your feelings are the same."


    "You''ve got that right," Kirra conceded, "So how do you feel about it?"


    "Please. If I had a problem with it, do you think I''d be treating you this way now?" Alsha asked incredulously. She laughed heartily and Kirra looked at her in surprise. She waved her hand in apology until she managed to bring herself under control. With a sincere smile she said, "Personally, I think that you have the potential to become the greatest Knight the Order has ever seen. All you need is a chance to prove yourself."


    "Thank you," Kirra replied sincerely, "I normally don''t care what other people think about me, but I''ve always had a great deal of respect for you. Your opinion of me does matter."


    "Remember when I said I learned a lot in there?" Alsha asked, and when Kirra nodded she went on to explain, "I was talking about you. Even though we didn''t learn much more about Sabreeza, you handled the situation very well. You''re proving that you have the capability to lead an investigation, which, as you know, is at the heart of what we Inquisitors do. You''re in the right place, Kirra, and it''s only a matter of time before everyone knows it."


    "Well at least there''s one good thing that happened today then. I suppose with the new information we do have grounds to investigate a little more openly, don''t we," Kirra replied with a grin, "Maybe we should return to the Order and gather the rest of the company."


    "When that happens I''ll have to take control again," she reminded him, "Are you sure that''s the direction you want to take the investigation?"


    "I think so. We''ll have more chance of arousing suspicion if we were to go straight to the guild seeking answers, and that seems to be our only other option," Kirra replied, shrugging. "I''d rather have the force necessary to back us up if things didn''t go as planned."


    "I happen to agree with you," Alsha said with a broad grin, "Let''s return to Mr. Swallow and collect our things, and then we''ll gather the rest of the crew and return in the morning."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 9: A Fathers Love

    "You let him go?" Salidar asked. His expression was a mixture of confusion and anger, "I gave you a gift, one you said you wanted, and you just let it go?"


    Maxthane recoiled under his father''s gaze. They had been at this for several minutes, and Salidar had yet to let Maxthane speak. Not that he had tried to. He knew better than to interrupt his father''s rants, regardless of the topic. Salidar wasn''t looking for a response; he simply wanted to let off steam.


    This new question was different though. Salidar had finally calmed down enough that he was no longer speaking, and instead he was looking at his son in bewilderment, as Maxthane fidgeted with his hands. Maxthane looked up at his father''s face and whispered, "Father, you don''t understand. I had to."


    Salidar ran his right hand through his hair, and then let it rest on his neck for a moment as he stared at Salidar. "Just tell me why," Salidar pleaded in exasperation. "You''re right that I don''t understand, in fact I''m completely blown away by your actions. I thought you were attracted to him. Didn''t you want him to stay?"


    "Yes, I did," Maxthane replied, looking away from his father to the window that Styx had escaped from several hours earlier. With a sigh he explained, "But not caged. I''m . . ." His emotions were confusing to him, and he didn''t know where to begin with explaining them to his Father.


    Salidar wasn''t about to let the topic go without an answer. "You''re . . . what?" He asked, and to his credit he managed to control himself well enough that it sounded supportive and patient. As Maxthane continued gazing through the window, the silence dragged, and he hoped his father would remain patient while he sorted through his thoughts.


    "I''m not only attracted to him," Maxthane admitted at last, "I''m in love with him. I can''t even begin to explain it."


    "You''re in love with him? How is that even possible?" Salidar scoffed. "You couldn''t have spent more than an hour with him in total. Plus, I think you''re a little young to know something like that with such certainty."


    "No. You don''t get it," Maxthane countered, annoyed by his father''s attitude. "Normally you understand what''s happening, but not this time. I knew the moment that I looked into his eyes. The connection was undeniable¡ªinstinctual and complete, like I''ve never felt before. Haven''t you ever been in love?"


    Salidar looked at him as if through new eyes. This was the second time that Maxthane had proved to be less than fully obedient, and Salidar wasn''t sure how to handle it. If he continued to allow Maxthane the freedom to explore his true self, then he would eventually lose his grip on the boy, and he wasn''t sure he was prepared for that. Still, the question Max raised was thought provoking.


    "Honestly?" Salidar asked, settling back on his heels as he stared off into space, considering a distant point in his memory. "I''m not sure. I don''t even think I was in love with your mother. The only things I''ve ever loved are you and power." That comment led Maxthane to turn around so that he was looking up at his father''s face again, searching for the sincerity he desperately wanted to find there. Salidar didn''t disappoint him, but though his usual reservation kept him from showing it in his expression, his eyes betrayed his true emotions on the subject. "I''ve tried to do everything I could to achieve power and make you happy, and usually I thought I was doing the right thing."


    "Normally you have," Maxthane admitted, "at least as far as I''ve ever seen. And in all honesty, I''m really glad you listened to me and let him leave the arena. I''m sorry that letting him go upsets you," he added with a blush, though his eyes flashed defiantly as he continued, "But I''m not sorry that I did it. He couldn''t bear being caged, and I wasn''t willing to crush his spirit. That would have meant destroying the very thing about him that I love the most."


    "All right, I think I understand. You know I don''t have much of a problem with the fact that you let him go," Salidar conceded with a smile, "It''s good to show mercy from time to time. It helps you earn the respect of the people. I''m glad that you chose to follow your heart, even if I don''t fully understand it."


    ''Thank you, father," Maxthane replied, "If I could explain it any better, then I would."


    Salidar extended his arms outward to offer an embrace to his son, and Maxthane took the opportunity without hesitation. Despite his generally reserved nature, Salidar had always had a soft spot for his son, he didn''t anticipate that ever changing, regardless of the path Maxthane took through life. He realized that relinquishing control over his son''s life would not be the end of the world, but it would allow Maxthane to follow his own path.


    But there were still issues to sort out, and one in particular weighed heavily on Salidar''s mind. It had been gnawing at him since the conversation had begun. "We do have one problem," he said as they parted from the embrace.


    "What would that be?" Maxthane asked, anxiously waiting for Salidar to continue.


    "I''ve already dispatched Fasha to track him down," Salidar explained grimly, "and Fasha isn''t known for being gentle."


    "Father! How could you?" Maxthane cried in horror, pulling away from his father. He cast a worried glance out the window before looking back to Salidar and shouting, "He''ll kill him! You have to call him back!"


    "How exactly am I supposed to do that?" Salidar asked as his face flushed with anger. The emotional outbursts that Maxthane were prone to of late were getting tiring. He had expected a negative reaction to the news, but this was unacceptable. "I specifically sent Fasha because he''s the fastest," he explained with finality, "No one would be able to catch him. No one."


    For a moment it seemed as if Maxthane might try to catch him on his own as he stepped away and climbed up to the window, hoping that he''d be able to see some sign of Styx moving in the dark. Salidar took a step forward, wondering if he would have to pull Maxthane back to keep him from jumping. Growling in frustration, Maxthane pulled away from the window and Salidar sighed in relief, though the action went unnoticed by Maxthane.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "What about your blood pact?" Maxthane asked in desperation, "Can''t you order him back here?"


    "He''s already out of range," Salidar replied with a helpless shake of his head.


    "That means you must have sent him after Styx a long time ago," Maxthane accused, shaking visibly with the anger that he felt, "Why? Why would you do that without talking to me?"


    "I didn''t intend to," Salidar explained, "I sent Fasha after Prism, but we now have reason to believe that they escaped together. One of the guards was incapacitated by Prism, but Styx was with him at the time."


    "So you sent an assassin after them?" Maxthane asked. "Why didn''t you just call Dogo back? Wouldn''t he have been enough?"


    "Possibly," Salidar conceded, "but I couldn''t risk it. Prism can''t be allowed to reach the surface. If he makes it to Neredos, he could jeopardize everything!"


    "Is that really such a terrible thing?" Maxthane asked without missing a beat. His expression instantly said he wished he could take the words back, but the harm had already been done. When what was said sunk in, Salidar''s patience evaporated.


    "How can you say that?" Salidar asked, quivering with anger, "We''ve been preparing for this for so long; your entire life even. We''re so close to achieving what our ancestors have always dreamed of!"


    Seeing that there was no longer a way out from this conversation, Maxthane allowed his own anger to guide his response. "At what cost?" He asked spitefully, "I certainly wasn''t willing to sacrifice the love of my life to this dream of yours."


    "Dream of mine?" Salidar scoffed, "I thought it was your dream too. My mistake. If you had reservations about what we were doing, you should have spoken up at the beginning. We''re far too invested to stop now."


    "I did speak up, but you didn''t listen to me, so I stopped trying," Maxthane said dryly, shaking his head he added, "Every time I''ve brought it up, you''ve assured me that everything is under control."


    "Everything is under control! I''m always in control!" Salidar shouted, and he raised his hand to strike his son, but stopped himself at the last second. He had never hit his son before, and he wasn''t going to start now, regardless of how angry he was. "Do not question me, Maxthane!" He ordered instead, "At first I thought your insubordination was a sign of your spirit awakening, but I''m losing my taste for it."


    Despite facing the wrath of his father to a greater extent than he ever had before, Maxthane was undeterred by his father''s words. "What are we doing, father?" He asked, pleading with his eyes for Salidar to listen, "You''re talking about unleashing demons on the people of Pentalus! You saw what that one did in the arena, and he''s not even one of the strongest ones. Your plan could end up destroying the world. Are you prepared to risk that for your climb to power?"


    "Yes," Salidar said with finality, "I am. And you had better get used to the idea, because you''re not going to stop it." He didn''t trust his ability to contain himself for much longer and he walked toward the doorway, but before he left he decided to add one final thought. "I''ll give you some time to rethink this position of yours. In the end, you''ll have to make a choice, Max. You either stand with me or against me. I urge you not to choose incorrectly."


    "So when it comes to choosing between power and me," Maxthane replied bitterly, "you choose power?"


    "I choose the one that doesn''t make me choose," Salidar answered flatly, "You''re asking me to give up everything I ever wanted in life. I''m offering to take you with me on the rise to power, power that will one day be yours if you come with me. Who is being unreasonable here?"


    "I don''t think I can join you, Father." Maxthane shook his head and turned away, once again looking out the window with worry. "I''m not willing to sacrifice the people in the way."


    "The ends justify the means, son," Salidar replied. It was the philosophy he had always lived by, and he didn''t know anything different. He had always taught Maxthane the same, and he couldn''t understand why his son would turn against him now. With a tone of finality he said, "It has always worked that way. Hopefully you''ll realize that before it''s too late."


    Salidar stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He didn''t wait around to see if Maxthane would follow him to continue their debate. As far as he was concerned the matter was closed, and nothing Maxthane said would change that. He had worked too long and too hard at bringing this plan to fruition.


    But he regretted that Maxthane couldn''t see it that way. How could Maxthane not understand that he was doing this on his son''s behalf? Ever since Maxthane was born, Salidar had been bent on providing the best life he could for the boy. If anything, it was Maxthane''s existence that had spurred Salidar to pursue this course of action. He wanted to leave a legacy behind that would keep his son in a position of power for all of his days.


    He decided that he would leave Maxthane alone for a few days and hope that he''d come around. There was a possibility that he was simply acting out due to the news about Styx. Hopefully Fasha would let the boy go and dispose of Prism alone, but the chances were slim. Styx would be considered a security risk since Prism could have told him anything, and Fasha had only one answer for dealing with people who could compromise the operation.


    There was one chance, he realized suddenly, and he hurried down the staircase. As fast as Fasha was, it still would take him some time to catch up with Prism and Styx, as they were not typical prey. Prism appeared to be a man of many talents, and he was certainly spry for someone his age. There was the possibility that he would be fast enough to maintain his lead for some time. There was also the fact that he had a guide. Styx was a Shade, born and raised. If anyone could avoid capture in this territory, it would be him. Working together they might be a formidable team, strong enough to outlast even Fasha''s incredible skill. Perhaps he had been too hasty in sending the assassin to do the job. He would need someone that was both fast enough and knew the territory, and there was only one person who could do that. Dogo.


    The only problem was that Dogo was no longer in the complex. He would be at his hovel in the Upper Shade, but that could prove to be to Salidar''s advantage. If he could make contact, then Dogo might be able to catch them on their way up, and possibly before Fasha could catch up to them. If the plan worked, he would be able to both stop Prism and bring Styx back alive. Then Maxthane would surely be happy again, and they could proceed with the plan without tearing their family apart.


    He hurried through the halls until he reached his destination. The sleepy guard snapped to attention as Salidar entered the room. The guard wasn''t used to visits from the King himself, but Salidar ignored him anyway. Taking a sheet of parchment from one of the shelves that lined the south wall of the room, he quickly penned a note and then rolled it up, shoving it into a small round case that he picked up from the window ledge. He then handed it to the guard who stared at it in surprise.


    "Have a bat deliver that to Dogo the Watchdog," Salidar ordered, waiting until the guard met his eyes to see the murder promised there if the guard should fail to follow Salidar''s instructions. "Make sure it''s your fastest one."


    The guard nodded and took the scroll case, then headed up the small staircase in the room which led to a row of small cages. Each cage held a bat which had been trained to carry messages across the expanse of The Shade. Salidar used them on occasion to connect with his network of allies and spies.


    He had spent his life becoming a master of manipulation, and he had never failed at getting something he wanted. He''d have his empire, one way or the other, and Maxthane would be a part of it. Obstacles were something to be overcome, and under Salidar''s will they always were.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 10: Dark Things

    Styx eyed the black water anxiously. Rumors held that there were things living beneath the surface that men were never meant to encounter, and he would prefer it remained that way. Every time the surface of the water bubbled, he had to stop himself from jumping back in terror, and he did not always succeed. Each time this happened Prism looked at him curiously, an eyebrow raised as he glanced between Styx and the water. Usually he simply shook his head and walked on, waving Styx to follow, but when Styx stumbled as he jumped away Prism laughed outright.


    "I take it you don''t like water," Prism said with a grin, not put off at all by the offended look on Styx''s face.


    "What makes you say that?" Styx snapped back, but then glaring at the lake he explained, "I don''t like that water."


    "We are twenty feet back from the shore, Styx," "Nothing is going to come out of there and get you."


    "Where are you from, Prism?" Styx asked with another glare, "Because I''ve spent my entire life here in The Shade, and I''ve got to tell you, there are things living in there that I have reason to be afraid of."


    "Where I''m from doesn''t really matter; fear is the same wherever you are," Prism answered cryptically. "Have you ever actually seen the things reported to live in there?"


    Styx stared at the water again, shaking his head in defiance of the monsters he knew lurked beneath the waves. "No, but I''ve heard the stories of those who have; fishermen who''ve lived their entire lives on these waters," he admitted, shuddering at the thought. Looking back at Prism he explained, "The fish from this lake serve as the main food we eat down here, and they are ugly enough that I don''t doubt the fishermen''s claims."


    "The thing I''ve learned about fishermen in my life is that they like to tell wild tales," Prism replied with a bemused smile. "I assume that the people pay a great deal for their catch?"


    "Of course. When there is little food to be had, we pay what we have to," Styx answered, not seeing the relevance of Prism''s question. With a shrug he added, "It''s the way of things."


    "And if the fisherman keep the people afraid of the water then the people will not know how easy it is to feed themselves," Prism explained without smugness, "It''s the way of things."


    Styx''s eyes widened in surprise as the thought sunk in. He had never looked at it from that perspective, and he glanced back at the water in wonder. "You''re saying I shouldn''t be afraid?" He asked uncertainly.


    "You can if you want to be. It''s very possible that the danger is real," Prism conceded. "What I''m saying is that you shouldn''t let the fear control you," Prism explained with a supportive smile, "We''ve made it this far without seeing more than bubbles in the water, but you act as if a monster is going to leap out and grab you at any moment."


    "One still could," Styx countered, as the momentary distraction from the fear ended. It wasn''t enough to know that the monsters might not be real. The stories that he had always been told were real enough. His imagination would serve as his own damnation.


    "If that happens then we''ll deal with it," Prism replied firmly, "Otherwise . . ." He stopped abruptly and looked back the way they had come. Styx turned to look, thinking that Prism must have seen something in the darkness, but all he saw was the cave wall, the shoreline, and the black lake, with the backdrop of the distant lights from Salidar''s complex. Everything seemed still except the flicker of those lamps and a slight movement in the water.


    But then Prism pushed Styx hard to the side, against the cave wall. He heard the sound of metal hitting metal, and looked back to see Prism standing where Styx had been, his arm raised as if he had deflected something with his bracer. As Styx watched, a series of knives came spinning through the darkness only to have those deflected by Prism as well.


    "You might as well come out and face me," Prism called out to the darkness, only to be greeted by silence. Another string of knives came hurtling toward him, and these were dealt with in the same manner as before. "I learned how to deflect knives as a child, and I''ve never forgotten," Prism called again, "You won''t kill me that way. Come out and face me."


    A man slowly walked forward, a knife in each hand, and as he drew closer Styx easily recognized him. This was the man who had stood with Salidar and Maxthane as he entered the Underking''s complex, the assassin Fasha, who the entire Shade knew not to cross. Styx was certain they were going to die, but he stood tall to face his fate. If there was anything he had learned about his recent ordeal, it was that it was better to fight and die trying than to run away and be killed anyway. It was the honorable thing to do.


    "You," Prism said flatly, "It all makes sense now."


    "Does it?" Fasha replied flicking the knife in his hand into the air, letting it spin as he walked further forward and then catching it easily by the hilt again. "You were there, weren''t you?" He asked, keeping his gaze on Prism, "No matter, you''ll die just the same. I''ve never been beaten, and you''re not about to be the first, despite the tales they once told about you."


    "You''re Salidar''s right hand man, aren''t you?" Styx asked, drawing little more than a glance from Fasha, "Doesn''t he have a rule about escaping? Something along the lines of, if you escape you''ve earned your freedom?"


    "Oh, the child thinks he can address me?" Fasha replied with a raised eyebrow, still looking at Prism. "You''re not even worthy of my attention," he added, and then sent a knife hurtling in a direct path for Styx''s face. It stopped in midair an inch from his right eye, as Prism grabbed the hilt in mid-flight. Just as easily as he had caught the blade, he sent it back through the air toward Fasha, who caught it in a similar fashion.


    "The boy''s life is important to you, is it?" Fasha said with an evil grin. "How interesting. I''ll just have to make sure he dies then." Before Styx could blink, more knives came flying toward him. How Fasha had managed to stash so many on his person he didn''t know, but the barrage seemed endless. Prism was in front of him, deflecting each one in turn, though not all of them were handled effectively. Styx yelped in pain as a knife that had been knocked only slightly off course by Prism still made it past Prism to pierce Styx''s shoulder. Another one grazed his thigh, and he barely pulled back in time as a third planted into the ground where his foot had been.


    All at once the barrage stopped as Fasha charged forward, attempting to take advantage of the distraction his knives had caused. With a kris blade in his hand leading the way, he aimed for Prism''s chest with deadly accuracy. Unlike when Prism had faced Jakkel, Fasha had speed on his side. Styx watched as the knife-point pierced Prism''s chest and screamed in horror as Prism fell to the ground.


    The battle was far from over. Prism had taken the hit but caught Fasha''s hand before the kris had been plunged deeply, and with a quick twist of the assassin''s wrist, the kris fell to the ground. Maintaining his hold on Fasha''s wrist, he pulled his opponent down with him and maneuvered his way toward a pindown.


    Fasha proved to be more slippery than Prism had expected, and even as Prism set the pin, the assassin started to slide from his grasp. Prism kept his grip on Fasha''s arm and knelt on it, snapping the bone, but Fasha showed no sign of pain. His arm slid away from Prism as if it were water, and then he rolled away from Prism and bounced back to his feet, and the kris blade flew through the air and back into his hand. He stabbed at Prism again and grazed Prism''s bicep as he tried to pull away. The sound of metal grating on metal resounded from the wall of the cavern as the cloth of Prism''s upper arm was cut to reveal a plate of silvery metal coating his upper arm.


    Styx realized that Fasha''s back was now to him, and he drew his knife from his belt. Though it wasn''t a type of blade that was typically thrown, Styx knew his way around knives well enough to get it to fly true, and threw the blade into Fasha''s back just above where his kidneys should be. The assassin staggered under the blow but otherwise paid no attention to it. To Styx''s surprise Fasha stood up straight and kept his attention on Prism.


    The knife Styx had thrown clattered to the ground, falling out of the wound. Styx was about to move and pick it up, but decided to grab one of the knives Fasha had thrown at them instead since they were closer. He reached for the one in his shoulder only to find that it was no longer there, though the wound was still dripping blood. Assuming it must have fallen out, he scanned the ground, only to find that this area too was free of the projectiles.


    He didn''t have any more time to consider the strangeness of the occurrence as he realized how much trouble Prism was in. Prism and Fasha were locked in a grapple, and though Prism had control of their wrestling match, the sinister smile on Fasha''s face told Styx that it wouldn''t remain that way for long.


    From his outside perspective, Styx saw the reason behind the smile before Prism did. As Fasha pulled back suddenly, his kris blade flicked from one hand to the other. It happened fast enough that Styx couldn''t be sure, but it seemed as if it hadn''t been tossed at all, but rather had been drawn to the other hand as if being pulled by a magnet. Though Prism still had Fasha mostly at his mercy, the hand that now held the blade was in the perfect position to strike at Prism''s exposed ribs. With a cry of triumph, Fasha stabbed forward, piercing cloth and flesh and plunging the blade as deeply as he could.


    The blade only buried itself halfway into Prism''s side before Prism regained control of the situation. Adrenaline was keeping him moving, and with a quick twist he went rolling with the assassin, down the shoreline and into the dark waters of the Black Lake.


    They continued to splash about in the water, allowing Styx to keep track of their location, and he watched as their movements took them progressively further from the shore. Then the splashing became less apparent as they sank beneath the surface of the water.


    "Prism!" Styx shouted as they disappeared, horrified at what he had just witnessed. For a moment he debated jumping into the water to save his friend, but one look at the dark waves and he couldn''t do it. Not even the potential loss of a friend could motivate him enough to break the surface of the menacing liquid. He paced the shore, watching for any sign of either of the combatants and wringing his hands in frustration.


    Prism rose to the surface first, and, despite the weight of the metal armor pieces he wore, swam quickly toward the shore. Fasha broke to the surface next, but then immediately disappeared again, as if he was being pulled back down. As Prism climbed onto the shore, Fasha surfaced again, but this time when he was pulled back down, Styx swore he saw a large tentacle wrapped around his torso before he disappeared from sight. Styx gasped and looked away, unable to watch what was happening.


    "Looks like you were right," Prism said quickly as he walked back up to Styx, "There was something in the water. Let''s keep moving before he catches up to us." Without another word he clapped Styx on the shoulder quickly and then began jogging down the shore. Styx cast one more nervous glance toward the water, and the ominous bubbles still rising to the surface before running after Prism as fast as he could. When he caught up to Prism it took all of his willpower to slow down and match his pace, and he was happy to find that Prism sensed his urgency and increased his own speed.


    Styx stopped to catch his breath a while later and looked at Prism with confusion and a bit of terror. Prism wasn''t breathing heavily at all, and even with the blood that stained his clothing from the open wound on his side he seemed to be perfectly fine. "You said, ''before he catches up to us''," Styx accused between gasps for air, "What were you talking about? How would he survive that?"Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    "I don''t think he''s done yet," Prism admitted with a shake of his head, "Trust me, that man is a survivor. He''s been through much worse."


    "I can''t imagine much worse than that," Styx replied, glancing nervously back at the water. There was no sign of anything stirring, but that didn''t stop the shudder that travelled down his spine.


    "Imagine it or not, it''s the truth," Prism insisted, and then gestured for Styx to start moving again as he said, "Now come on, we need to hurry. Look, we''re almost at those lights. Are those the docks?"


    "Judging from where we are," Styx said as he prepared himself to run again, "I would say yes."


    "And after that we can start heading up, right?" Prism asked, for the first time showing a hint of worry.


    "Unfortunately, since Salidar already sent one of his men after us, he''s very aware that we''ve escaped. He''ll have men watching the market and the exits to the surface," Styx explained, shaking his head, "We can''t escape quickly. We''ll have to sneak out."


    "That''s not an option, Styx," Prism insisted firmly, "We need to get out now. That man back there will find us if we tarry too long; I guarantee it."


    "Okay, then we need to find someone who can get us out," Styx suggested, "That''s the only option we have if we want to go quickly."


    "Are you thinking about someone in particular?" Prism asked, the urgency still evident in his voice.


    "Unfortunately, yes," Styx replied with a grim expression, "Madame Godani''s guild hall is not far from the docks. If we sneak our way in, then she might be able to help us get out."


    "You don''t sound pleased with that plan of action," Prism said with a touch of uncertainty, "What is the problem with approaching this Madame Godani?"


    "She''s my mother." Though it looked like Prism wanted more of an answer, Styx remained silent. As far as he was concerned, the matter was closed. Despite his reservations about returning to his childhood home, it was the only way out. If that was what it took to survive, he was willing to sacrifice his pride.


    They reached the docks a few minutes later, keeping out of sight of the lamps that lit up the rickety wooden planks, and the ships that were moored there. There weren''t many people about, and those that were had their focus on other tasks than watching the shore. They were either preparing to launch their fishing vessels, or had just returned, and were busy cleaning and preparing their catches for market. For Styx and Prism, who both had experience in stealth, avoiding the fishermen was an easy task.


    The dark streets of the Lower Shade were a different story. At numerous points they had to dodge out of the way of someone carrying a torch, and hide behind a barrel or a crate, or sometimes run back the way they came. It took them much longer to get through the streets than Prism would have liked, and Styx could feel Prism''s frustration as they pushed forward, though his mind was more concerned with other matters.


    Styx remained focused on the large pillar they were moving toward. It shone bright in the darkness, with nearly every window lit up with lamplight. They weren''t the cheap type of lamps that have to be fed with oil. These lamps were much like the ones that had decorated Salidar''s halls. They cast a permanent glow upon the surrounding terrain, and were a symbol of wealth. It was a distinction well deserved, for no one in The Shade, save Salidar, was wealthier than the woman who ran the complex at the base of the pillar. Madame Godani was a woman who made sure everyone knew exactly how much power and influence she had, and the enchanters'' lamps were merely an expression of that.


    Within half an hour, they had reached the base of the pillar. Styx ignored the large door at the front of the complex, and turned his attention to the upper levels. There was a door hidden away from all the other entrances, which only guild members used. It wasn''t exactly a secret that no one in the Shade knew about, but only someone who knew how to find it could reach it. Having spent his entire childhood in the complex, he knew exactly where it was but what he didn''t know was who would be guarding it. Regardless, if he wanted to get into the guildhall he would have to risk that whoever it was would turn out to be an old friend, and not an old rival.


    Styx motioned upward and started his climb. There were secret handholds built into the walls and he climbed them with ease. He was halfway up before he realized Prism might not have been able to follow his movements and was potentially stuck closer to the bottom. A quick glance down showed that he needn''t have worried. Prism was right below him and smiled encouragingly as Styx resumed his climb.


    They quickly reached a small platform that led to a narrow passageway, completely hidden in the shadows. Styx waited for Prism to climb onto the platform before squeezing through the tight space, knowing realizing it might be hard to find if Prism didn''t get a good view of where he went. As soon as he was inside, he wasn''t surprised in the slightest to feel a blade pressed up against his neck, though that didn''t stop his breath from catching in his throat.


    "Well look who it is. The prodigal son returning to the guild hall," the blade''s wielder said. The middle-aged man''s head was shaved, and the eye-patch that covered his left eye was painted to show an eye of red fire, which served as a perfect contrast to the right eye, which was the same bright blue it had always been. Styx knew the man well; it was Drake Iskari, a veteran member of the guild, and one of the members who had trained Styx when he was a boy. He was also one who had sometimes envied the favored position that Styx had with Madame Godani. This was something he hadn''t planned for; a person who was both friend and rival. Drake seemed equally surprised at seeing Styx as he added, "I never thought I''d see your face again kid."


    "Well it''s here for now," Styx replied casually, doing his best to ignore the blade that was still against his throat, "but you won''t have to see my face for long, Drake. Let us in, I need to see Madame Godani."


    "What makes you think that she''ll see you?" Drake asked with a grin, though his smile did little to reassure Styx. "You didn''t exactly part on good terms," he reminded Styx as the expression became a smirk.


    "Good terms or no, I need to see her," Styx insisted, and then in his cockiest voice he declared, "Try and stop me if you have to, Drake, but I''m going in."


    As it always had, bravado quickly won over the veteran thief. With a chuckle Drake pulled the thin blade away from Styx''s throat and sheathed it. "All right kid," Drake said, gesturing for Styx to step further inside, "Come in, but you''re going to wait just inside for a minute so I can have a message sent down to her. You''re not going any further inside until I''m sure she wants you here. You can''t blame me for not wanting to cross her."


    "No, I can''t," Styx agreed grimly. "Your plan sounds good to me I suppose. I wouldn''t be here if I didn''t have to be."


    "Understood," Drake replied with a nod, knowing well that Styx was speaking the truth. "You know it''s probably a good thing that I was the one on duty tonight. Someone else might not have even spoken to you."


    "I guess I''m just lucky," Styx replied with a grin, which earned another chuckle from Drake. The veteran turned away and walked a few feet down the corridor. He busied himself in front of a contraption of pulleys and ropes, which had a small canister attached to one end of the rope. He penned a quick message on a piece of parchment and then knocked three times on the wall to have the canister and its cargo descend through a small hole in the floor. Another thief would be waiting below to collect the message and deliver it. Styx knew how the system worked, though he had rarely been put on this duty, or the other since, he had reached adolescence. He had been far too important to Madame Godani''s designs for her to waste him on such menial tasks.


    While Drake was busy with the message, Prism squeezed his way quietly into the room. Prism hadn''t made a sound but there wasn''t an ounce of surprise in Drake''s face as he turned back around and made note of him. "So, who is your friend? I''ve never seen him before."


    "This is Prism," Styx replied easily, "And of course you''ve never seen him. You know as well as I do that he''s not from The Shade."


    "True," Drake agreed, "He doesn''t move like one of us. Where''d you find him?"


    Before either Styx could answer, a powerful female voice spoke up from the darkness behind Drake. "He escaped from Salidar''s fortress, just as Styx did." The source of the voice stepped into the darkness a moment later, a woman in her late forties, dressed in a tight-fitting black and red dress that accentuated her slim figure. Her greying brown hair was cut short and intricately styled, but the makeup and earrings she wore were simple, and served to complement her features rather than distract from them. "Hello, son. I must say that I''m surprised to see you," Madame Godani said with a blank expression, "If I recall correctly, you said that you would never come back. That didn''t last long."


    "Hello, Madame Godani," Styx said formally, dropping his eyes, "It''s good to see you too."


    "Now, give me one reason why I shouldn''t turn you over to Salidar?" she asked, her eyes flashing with annoyance. Turning her gaze toward Prism she went on, "He''s not hunting you, but the dark one on the other hand . . ."


    "Something terrible will happen if you turn me in, Madame Godani," Prism said in his own defense, interrupting her. His action only caused her to glare at him dangerously, but undeterred he went on, "Not to me, but to the world. If you do not help us reach the surface, then you will be helping to start the apocalypse."


    "Styx, how do you always end up with the crazy ones?" Madame Godani asked, but instead of waiting for an answer she addressed Prism with a tight smile, "Still, I''m impressed by your ability to speak your mind. Such bold claims are rarely made in my presence. Who are you, stranger?"


    "No one worthy of mention," Prism replied cryptically, "At the moment I am a messenger, trying to stop the end of the world."


    "That''s very vague," Madame Godani said patiently, though her eyes betrayed that she was already tired of the game. "Maybe you could elaborate?"


    "Elaborating would put your lives in danger if Salidar ever found out that you spoke to me," Prism explained with a shake of his head.


    "Why? Because he might find out that I know he''s planning to free the demons?" Madame Godani replied nonchalantly, and for the first time since Styx met Prism, the man was completely caught off guard. "Don''t look so surprised," she scolded him, "we thieves pride ourselves on information. I''ve known for quite some time what his game was."


    "What are you talking about?" Styx interrupted, looking at Madame Godani as if she had lost her mind, "That''s insane!"


    "Styx, really?" She replied with a raised eyebrow, "You faced a demon in the arena and you''re having a hard time believing that''s what is happening?" With a shake of her head and a tired smile she added, "I always thought you were more perceptive than that."


    "So that''s what it was," Styx said, reliving the fight in his mind. He saw the demon''s horrific visage and shook himself to try and clear it from his thoughts. It didn''t work, and he found himself stroking his arms where the demon had pierced his flesh, shuddering at the memory.


    "Yes," Prism said, answering Styx, but then he turned back to Madame Godani and went on forcefully, "And there will be more of them if Salidar gets what he wants. I don''t know what his endgame is, but he is planning on freeing all of them. We can''t let that happen!"


    "And why should I care?" She replied with a shrug, "So the demons will be freed and destroy Pentalus. So what? The people in that city have never done anything for me. The entire reason that the Shade exists is because those above can''t tolerate those with different opinions." Her eyes narrowed in disgust as she added, "If you ask me, they could use a lesson in humility, and perhaps having some demons destroy their pretty little lives will show them that humility."


    "You can''t mean that," Prism replied in disbelief and a bit of anger. "If the demons are released, do you think they will suddenly stop killing when they''ve finished with Pentalus? For someone who prides herself on information, you sure didn''t think that through."


    "Watch your tongue," she replied angrily, her eyes promising death, "You may be strong, but I can guarantee you I can have you killed, and the reward from Salidar will be more than enough to cover the cost of the men I lose."


    "The truth is far too important to remain silent," Prism said defiantly, "If I have to kill my way up to the city then I will, though I would prefer to not do so."


    "You have courage, I''ll give you that," Madame Godani insisted, allowing the insult to slide, "Now, tell me a reason to help you that will actually interest me."


    "You are a survivor. I can tell from the way you speak, and how you are against the idea of opposing Salidar," Prism began, drawing another raised eyebrow from Madame Godani, "How long will you survive if the demons come here? Salidar can''t control them, I promise you that. You and everyone in your guild will die, before they even know what hits them."


    "So you''re saying that I have a choice between dying at Salidar''s hands now, once he finds out that I''ve let you go, that is, and dying in a demon invasion?" Madame Godani asked, her face showing how unimpressed she was by the thought. She laughed, drawing an angry frown from Prism and then answered, "I will take my chances with the demons. Salidar won''t succeed."


    "How can you be so sure of that?" Prism asked, annoyed by her surety.


    "I''ve learned that the Knights of the Firmament already know that a demon has been freed. They will be ready for Salidar when he makes his move," she explained, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world, "The petty rebellion of the Underking will be crushed, just as it has been every time before. He may manage to free a demon or two, but the whole set of them? No, he''ll be dead long before he manages to come even close."


    "Perhaps you are right," Prism conceded with a shrug, though his glare told her that he didn''t believe it for a second, "but you do not understand the gravity of the situation. There are more powers at work here than just Salidar."


    Madame Godani was about to reply with another laugh when Styx finally spoke again. "Do it for me," he said quietly, and everyone else looked at him in stunned silence.


    "What?" Madame Godani asked incredulously, "I don''t owe you anything, Styx. Why would I do it for you?"


    "Madame Godani," Styx said formally, looking into her eyes as he slowly rubbed his arms, remembering the demon claws piercing his flesh. With his voice pleading from the depth of his heart he insisted again, "Please. Do it for me."


    She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity to the other two men in the room, but to Styx it was the closest he had been to her in years. It felt as if she were looking into the depths of his soul as she looked deep into his eyes. To his surprise and delight, she nodded slowly and whispered, "Very well. I''ll help you. May I live to regret it."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 11: Grand Inquisitors

    "Grand Inquisitor Isean, you''re not even listening. We have to do something about this." Lady Alsha stood tall before the panel of three inquisitors, her eyes blazing with fury. Despite the anger that she felt, she had managed to keep her voice composed. There was nothing to be gained by an emotional outburst, and certainly not when dealing with the pompous men in front of her.


    They were in one of the smaller chambers of the Hall of Justice, but it was no less elaborate than any other room in the massive structure. Like every place in the Everbright City, the Hall of Justice was built of the finest materials, through a combination of the skill of great architects, and the powers of great mages. It was a very impressive building, but with every other building in the city being equally impressive, it hardly stood out.


    "You''re talking about a full-scale invasion of an important guild based on the hearsay of a few disgruntled merchants and other peasants," the balding bear of a man in the center of the three men replied with obvious annoyance. "We cannot endorse such an action. Imagine how the people will react!"


    "It''s not just hearsay Grand Inquisitor," Alsha countered, gritting her teeth to force the anger out of her voice. "What about Mister Swallow''s report? A demon has been freed, or at the very least one of the pillars has been removed. Isn''t that what the Knights of the Firmament were tasked to prevent?" As the three inquisitors'' eyes widened in surprise she added with conviction, "Our very purpose lies in protecting the people should the demons ever rise again."


    "And do the people know that?" the man to Isean''s right countered. Grand Inquisitor Tibrae stood in stark contrast to Isean. He was short and slender, with long black hair pulled back into a braid. "We''d have a riot if we came charging in without regard to the social order," he said with a shake of his head. His eyes narrowed as he went on, "Besides, I hardly count the ramblings of an old man to be evidence of a demon roaming the streets. Where did it go if it was freed? Mister Swallow is nothing more than a man seeking attention, and there is no reason to give him any."


    "I thought the same thing when I first heard the story, but when I investigated I found that there was more than enough reason to move on the guild," Lady Alsha explained, swallowing her rage to keep herself from shouting. "Even without the looming prospect of a demon invasion, Huzain Sabreeza has been oppressing the people he has been put in charge of."


    "I question why you even bothered to investigate this at all," said the third man, Kinar Grembal, who was seated to Isean''s left. He scratched his grey beard in thought as his grey eyes searched Lady Alsha''s. While he was the lowest ranking of the three, bearing only the title of High Inquisitor, he was also the oldest, and he had a way of seeming grandfatherly, which usually put Alsha at ease. "But you do make a valid point about Sabreeza," He admitted, but then he sighed and explained, "Still, there is a process to these things, and we must go about them the proper way. This will take some time. A full investigation of those allegations must be organized."


    "I don''t believe that time is something that we have," Alsha replied without missing a beat, though the calm nature of Grembal had drained some of the anger from her. "We could be on the brink of something terrible here. What if Sabreeza is planning a revolt?"


    "Now you''re jumping to even wilder conclusions than before," Grand Inquisitor Tibrae accused, waving his hand in irritation. His eyes darted between her and the other two Inquisitors as he growled, "She''s starting to sound like that boy you have working under her now. What was his name? Kirra?" Turning his suspicious gaze back to her he rolled his eyes and said, "Don''t tell me that the orphan mystic is rubbing off on you. Perhaps it was a mistake to approve his transfer."


    "The only mistake here is that you aren''t taking this seriously," Alsha replied, her wrath returning like a flood, "Kirra was an asset today. If it weren''t for him we wouldn''t have learned anything at all."


    "Spare me the details," Tibrae replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. He folded his arms as he regarded her coldly. "I''ve heard enough of this nonsense."


    "It''s not nonsense . . ." Alsha began but was cut off with a raise of Isean''s hand. She knew better than to keep talking when a Grand Inquisitor told her to be silent, even if it was through an unofficial gesture.


    "If that boy is involved, it''s always nonsense," Isean replied firmly, meeting her eyes as if daring her to challenge the point. "This matter is closed, and you will not have the backing of the Order on this. We will not raid the merchant guild at this time. That being said, we will investigate your claim as to the oppressive nature of Sabreeza''s actions."


    "But Grand Inquisitor . . ." Alsha protested despite knowing it would be futile.


    "I said that the matter is closed," Isean stated forcefully. When Alsha''s mouth snapped shut he went on more calmly, "I advise you to consider transferring that child to another company. It is clear that he has influenced your judgment, and we would prefer if you were no longer impaired by his wild theories."


    "Understood, Grand Inquisitor," Alsha replied with a nod and a salute. Though she was far from satisfied with the result of the meeting, she knew that pressing the matter any further would not end well for her. "Am I dismissed?"


    The three men shared a look, and then nodded amongst themselves, though Grand Inquisitor Tibrae rolled his eyes and looked away a second later. He had already dismissed her when he had dismissed her charges against the merchant, and he wanted nothing more to do with her. Isean sighed and looked back to where she waited for an answer, but it was High Inquisitor Grembal who actually spoke. "You may return to your duties, Commander Alsha," he said with a smile, "Keep in mind what was said. You are a fine officer, and we would like you to continue to uphold the reputation that you have established."


    "Thank you, sir," Alsha replied formally, releasing her salute. She turned on her heel and walked from the room, no longer caring if the three men saw her quivering with rage. As soon as the large wooden door was closed behind her she took several deep breaths to calm herself, and then slowly began walking down the hall to the antechamber where Kirra was waiting for her.


    Kirra sprang to his feet as she walked through the doorway. He fell in step beside her as she continued her stride toward the building''s exit. It wasn''t difficult to tell the state of her mood, and Kirra decided to wait until they left the building before speaking to her, hoping she would calm down once they hit the streets.


    It didn''t happen immediately, but not long after they had walked out through the immaculate doors of the Hall of Justice she managed to regain her composure. She stopped and stared down at the cloudy street below her, lost in thought. Though Kirra wished he didn''t have to interrupt her, he desperately wanted to know what had happened in her meeting with the Inquisitors. Taking a deep breath, he then cleared his throat to get her attention and said, "Let me guess, they didn''t go for it? Big surprise there."


    "Oh, the arrogance of those fools!" Alsha growled in response, her fists trembling. "Maybe we should have tried to handle this on our own."


    "From the intelligence we gathered on the forces Sabreeza is reported to employ, I sincerely doubt we would have been able to succeed on our own," Kirra replied with a helpless shake of his head. He had expected this outcome, and was surprised that Alsha hadn''t. But he saw it as his responsibility to show support to his commanding officer so he added consolingly, "We were right to return to seek support, regardless of how futile it has turned out to be."


    "Yes, but the question is what we do now," Alsha replied, pursing her lips thoughtfully.


    "What do you mean?" He asked. "Knowing them, I''m sure they said something along the lines of not supporting the action. If we did anything we''d be considered insubordinate, and probably face severe disciplinary action."


    "Not necessarily," she replied with a smile slowly growing on her face. Turning that smile in Kirra''s direction she continued, "They said they wouldn''t support military action, but that they would investigate the allegations that Sabreeza has abused his power."


    "They would never assign us the case, Alsha," Kirra countered, "Not after you made your claims. They''ll think that you''re already too involved in this, and assign someone else who will handle the investigation in a manner more to their liking."


    "Do you think I made it to this position in the Order without earning a few favors along the way, Kirra?" Alsha asked incredulously. Her grin faded and was replaced with a look of determination as she said, "I can get assigned to this case if I want to, and bring along whomever I like from the company. Which includes you."


    "Really?" Kirra asked with excitement, "I''ve never served on an official investigation team before, other than our excursion earlier today, which you expected to be mundane."


    "Honestly, if I had known what we were going to find out today I would have brought more men," Alsha said with a laugh, though she became serious once again and added, "but you still would have been among them."


    "Once again I am honored by your faith in me, commander," Kirra replied with a humble bow as he muttered, "However misplaced it may be."


    "Are you on that damned lack of confidence streak again?" Alsha asked angrily. "Stop putting yourself down," she ordered firmly, and raised her hand as if to smack him and drive it into his skull. "You know what? Don''t even speak about it again. I don''t want to hear another word about it for as long as you''re serving under my command, got it?"


    "Yes ma''am," Kirra replied after a moment of hesitation, lowering his eyes, "I understand."


    "Good." Alsha said with a firm nod, but she wasn''t finished with her orders. "Now, you go back to the barracks and prepare for the next few days. We''re going to be investigating this by morning, one way or another, even if I have to call in every favor that I have left."


    As Kirra agreed and began heading back to the barracks, Lady Alsha left in the opposite direction. He glanced over his shoulder at her a few times until she disappeared from sight, wondering who her contacts might be who owed her favors. For a brief moment he entertained the idea of following her and finding out exactly who she would be meeting, but not wanting to compromise her trust, he threw that idea away and resumed his march back home.


    Despite the reaction from the Grand Inquisitors, there was a spring in his step. It was about time he had been allowed to serve on an actual investigation team, considering that he had already been a member of the Knights for six years. But he had always progressed at a slower rate due to the distrust that had been built up around him. None of his commanders had ever thought he was worth much of anything, no matter how hard he had tried to prove himself. Lady Alsha was different. She saw something in him that he could barely see himself, and he hoped that he would be able to keep his good standing with her.


    The thought was momentarily forgotten as he reached the barracks. Kirra was filled with a sense of dread every time he saw the structure. He had lived in this particular building for the last two years, though he had spent the bulk of that with a different company. Now he lived in the same quarters as Lady Alsha''s troops, and though there hadn''t been any problems yet, he knew it would only be a matter of time before they arose.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    With a sigh he stepped past the guards and through the massive doors that led into the structure, heading down the long hallway that would eventually lead to his bed. Despite his wish to avoid the barracks most of the time, he needed rest, considering the long day he had been through. Not even fear of his bunkmates would stop him from getting the sleep he needed.


    He was immediately approached by one of the men as he entered the room; Kobek, a man three times his bulk and a full two heads taller. The man spoke with a deep voice as he greeted Kirra with a smile. "Oh, back from training already, are we? How''d it go?"


    "It went all right," Kirra answered simply, interpreting the smile as a sneer. Wanting to reduce the length of the conversation he walked past the large man and said, "Nothing important. Very routine."


    "Liar!" Kobek insisted indignantly, "You came back and went straight to the Grand Inquisitor''s office. Are you going to tell us what''s up or are you going to keep it to yourself?"


    "Why exactly should I tell you?" Kirra spat out as he spun around, glaring at the larger man. They were starting to draw a crowd as men and women left their bunks to watch what was going on. This didn''t deter Kirra at all as he went on to explain, "We''re not friends, just fellow soldiers. I''ve never been given a reason to trust any of you, and I don''t think I have one now."


    "Oh boy, the kid''s getting feisty again," said another man from behind him. Kirra spun around as the man walked toward him, a grin on his face. He recognized the Knight, but he couldn''t place his name. Their lack of familiarity did little to stop the new speaker from acting like they were old friends as he went on laughing, "Lighten up, we were just curious. It ain''t every day that Lady Alsha goes to see the big shots. If you don''t want to tell us, fine, but you might try actually getting along some time."


    "As if," Kirra snorted, "Piss off, I''m not going to tell you anything."


    "Whatever you say, kid," Kobek replied, and to Kirra''s surprise and relief, they all walked off, and the room returned to normal. The watching soldiers returned to their bunks or the conversations they had been having before he arrived. It was a reaction he had never had before, but he didn''t wait around to analyze. He resumed his walk toward his own bunk in the corner; the bunk he had chosen to be as far away as possible from everyone else.


    With a tired groan he began removing his armor. It was normally a time-consuming process without help, but he had grown accustomed to it. He had been doing it for years after all, and could both put on and take off his armor as fast as any veteran. In just under a minute he had every piece off and set aside, waiting to be put away on the rack beside his bed. Standing in his sweat-soaked tunic and leggings, he considered going to the baths before he put his armor away. Deciding he was too tired at the moment for either task, he lay down on his bed and shut his eyes.


    Without realizing it, Kirra had laid his sword on the bed and he began to absentmindedly stroke its hilt. He almost cursed as a voice spoke into his mind, and immediately stopped what he was doing, though it was already too late. "You know, they have a point," the sword said, its feminine voice was pleasant, but most of the time he found it nagging.


    "Oh no, not you too," Kirra replied mentally. She could hear his thoughts and respond in kind but she could also hear the words spoken around her, even though she couldn''t speak. Still, when he wished to have a private conversation with her, he would refrain from vocalizing those thoughts, as he was doing now. With an annoyed groan he added, "I thought we agreed that you weren''t going to side with them."


    "Oh, I''m not," she assured him, but then he groaned as she continued, "I just think that you need to be a little more open. It would do you some good to have some friends, and you aren''t exactly winning any points with your attitude."


    "I''m not looking to win points," he countered in annoyance, "I simply want to be good at my job, and I don''t want to disappoint the commander."


    "Why?" she asked, and he could hear the smile in her voice, "Are you attracted to her?"


    "You know that''s not the case," he answered quickly, "You, of everyone I know, understands that isn''t true."


    "Then what makes her different?" The sword asked with genuine interest.


    "I don''t know," he admitted with a mental shrug, "I suppose it''s the fact that she shows me respect."


    "And those men didn''t?" The sword stated more than asked, though she made it clear that she wanted him to clarify his thoughts.


    "No, I wouldn''t call that respectful," Kirra replied after taking a moment to sort through his memory of the altercation, "They were trying to get information out of me, that''s all."


    "Do you remember your last barracks?" She asked, and he knew she picked up on his incredulity almost immediately. How could he forget? The last year before he came under Alsha''s command had been the worst of his life. He had been harassed every day and could do nothing about it. When they found out he preferred men over women, their taunting became even more relentless, and escalated further, to cause different problems. He was still recovering from the time they had cornered him in the barracks and raped him, but that was the worst he had ever received. He had to deal with the insults and even the physical acts they perpetrated against him. He would do what it took to survive, even if he had to take a few hits along the way.


    Of course, the sword wasn''t finished with him yet. As he relived his past with his last company, she had continued her thought. "They treat you better here," she explained calmly, "I think they were trying to treat you like one of them, but your attitude is going to set you apart again. They''re going to end up treating you like you''re different, and it will only be your fault."


    "I am different," he replied with a snarl, "Whose side are you on? Mine or theirs."


    "Yours," she answered without hesitation, "I always have been."


    "You have a funny way of showing it," he replied bitterly. Even though he knew that she was always looking out for his best interest, sometimes her methods had a way of rubbing him the wrong way.


    "These people are different, Kirra," she said and then asked a question that caught him off guard, "You trust Lady Alsha, right?"


    "Yes," he replied with conviction, "Completely."


    "She hand-picked every single one of these men and women. She wouldn''t have done so if they weren''t good people," she explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I think you''re looking for a reason to keep yourself apart because you''ve always been alone, and you''re comfortable there."


    "You see right through me, don''t you?" He asked, not able to find a flaw in her logic.


    "Always have. Always will," she agreed.


    "You may have a point," he admitted with another shrug, "but that doesn''t mean I''m going to change."


    "As stubborn as always," she said with the same smile. "Just like your mother."


    "At least my parents gave me something before they died," he replied sarcastically. Though his eyes were still closed, he rolled them instinctively and wondered if she could sense the action.


    "I suppose," she admitted, but then her pleasant voice laughed as she added, "Though I wish they would have given you some sense too."


    "I can''t help who I am," he replied.


    "That''s such a terrible excuse," she scolded in her same pleasant tone, "Of course you can. In fact, you''re the only one who can do anything about it."


    "All right. Well I''m done talking about this," he said. He had heard it all before, and he wasn''t about to listen to the lecture again.


    "We need to find you a boyfriend," she said, heeding his desire to drop the subject.


    Her new choice was not much better, and he responded, as he had grown accustomed to do whenever she brought it up. "And now I''m done talking to you."


    "Kirra," she said, before he let go of the sword hilt, "I''m only looking out for you."


    He shoved the sword away from him and resumed his attempt at rest. Despite tossing and turning for a few minutes to find a comfortable position, it wasn''t long before he managed to fall asleep as the exhaustion took over.


    It felt like only a few minutes had gone by before he was shaken awake to look groggily up into the face of one of his fellow soldiers. It was the same soldier who had called him feisty in his earlier encounter with the others, and he prepared to defend himself. It took him a few seconds before he realized that everyone else in the room was standing at attention and looking toward the door where Lady Alsha was preparing to address them.


    Kirra stood up quickly, as she began to speak. "We have a mission tomorrow," she said, drawing excited smiles from many of the men and women. Most of the soldiering life was made up of routine patrols. Missions were rare, and added variety to their daily monotony. "Mission briefing will happen at first sun, and we will leave immediately after. I am afraid that this will be a small mission, and I will only be able to take a few of you. I know that all of you wish to go, but I have already made my selection of who will be coming with me. These are the names of the people that will be coming: Evren Lockspar, Judin Marro, Percin Whitefield, Lota Barr, Kobek Oswallo, Kirra Elrhanadan, and Fenri Dulbane. You six, get some rest," she commanded with a smile, "this could end up being a long mission."


    "Does this have anything to do with your investigation earlier today?" Kobek asked as Lady Alsha turned to leave. She turned back around and regarded the large man warmly.


    "Yes, but that is all you need to know for now," she said simply, though her smile never faded. "Only those who will be coming will be informed as to the nature of our task. The rest of you should rest as well. You have patrols starting tomorrow. Until I return from this mission, Lieutenant Inquisitor Maddock will command this company."


    Her last words elicited groans, though not at the prospect of having Maddock lead them. He was a good enough man, from Kirra''s limited experience with him, but he was no Lady Alsha. Judging by the disappointed stares as she left the room, everyone wished that they could go with her. Kirra was sure that, had Maddock been in the room instead of the officer''s barracks, his look would have matched those of the other men. No one wanted to do patrol after all, especially not when there was an exciting mission happening elsewhere.


    The room returned to normal, or at least some semblance of it. The soldiers chatted excitedly about what was happening, speculating on what the mission was about. Kirra watched them all from his corner, wondering at how they made their camaraderie look so easy. But then he noticed that Kobek was headed his way, and he prepared mentally for another verbal sparring match.


    When the large man stood in front of his bed he said in an attempt to be charming, "Looks like you''re stuck with us kid."


    "Looks that way," Kirra replied neutrally, neither smiling nor frowning.


    "Try not to bite our heads off, all right?" Kobek requested with a smile that looked genuine enough that Kirra began to question his hostility toward the Knight. "We need to work together," the large man reminded him before turning to walk away and leave him alone once again.


    "What makes you think . . .?" Kirra started to reply angrily, but then he took a deep breath before he forced a smile and said, "Never mind. I''ll try."


    "That''s the spirit," Kobek replied, smiling wide, "By the end of this mission we''re going to get along splendidly."


    "I look forward to it," Kirra said with a nod, and Kobek smiled one more time before walking away. Even though Kirra wasn''t completely sure he had meant it, the phrase settled in his mind and refused to go away. He began to wonder if his sword had been right, and he should give the other soldiers a chance.


    Thinking of the sword brought his gaze back to where it still lay on his bed. While he had pushed it away from him earlier, if he wanted to sleep through the night without running into it he needed to put it away, along with the rest of his equipment. As soon as he touched the sword she spoke into his mind, "See, that wasn''t so hard. Don''t you feel better now that you were friendly?"


    "A little," he admitted, then added with a sigh, "I don''t know, maybe you''re right."


    "So how about that boyfriend then?" She taunted sweetly, and he almost threw the sword at the wall, but resisted at the last second. The last thing he wanted to do was to draw even more attention to himself.


    "All right, stop talking," he ordered instead, "Go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." With that thought finished he put the sword on top of his nightstand and went about putting his armor on its rack. When the task was completed he was reminded of the state of his sweaty clothing and again considered going to the baths.


    With a quick glance around at the other soldiers who were all preparing for bed, Kirra realized that this was as good a chance as any. When he left the room he was practically alone in the hallways, and knew that he would find the same at the bathhouse; he wouldn''t have it any other way. No matter how many friends he ever made, he would always prefer being alone when he needed to sort through his thoughts.


    With a grin he left the barracks and stepped into the cool night air. As he walked through the streets of the Everbright City he couldn''t help but look around in wonder. The city had earned its name. While the sun always shone during the day, the position of the city above the clouds allowed the stars at night to greet anyone who strolled the city''s pathways. Like glittering gemstones in black velvet, they cast their light upon the opulent city, causing it to glow dimly to anyone who took the time to observe it.


    Kirra wondered how many people still took that time, or if they took their lives for granted. Sleep may have been his escape from the troubles in life, but one walk outside in the city at night gave him all the strength he needed to face another day. After all, even if the people were cruel, nature itself was something worth experiencing, and no amount of harassment could ever take that feeling away from him.


    His senses tingled, drawing him momentarily out of his musings. He looked around in alarm, but seeing no danger he returned his attention to the starlight. It was different somehow, and he studied the night sky in curiosity. And then he saw it, an omen from a distant memory; something that made his pointed ears perk up and his eyes home in on a small patch of the sky. A brilliant shooting star streaked across his vision and exploded in a quick burst of light. He gasped in delight as somewhere deep inside him he recognized the significance of the sign.


    His life was about to change for the better. Regardless of what else happened around him, he was on the path he was meant to be on. The time he had waited for had finally arrived. He would finally know what his purpose was.


    He would finally fit into the world.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 12: The Ascent

    "Madame Godani owns this pillar, all the way up to the Upper Shade," Styx explained as he climbed to the top floor of the complex with Prism. They reached a small platform that rested against the giant column of limestone. Small handholds and footholds were cut into the stone that would allow passage to the heights above. Styx inclined his head toward those handholds and continued, "It shouldn''t be difficult to reach the cavern ceiling, and then we simply have to make our way through the Upper Shade."


    "Is it really that simple?" Prism asked, eyeing the pillar with determination. Styx wondered if Prism would go against Madame Godani''s request that they wait until she had everything in order before they left, but to his relief Prism turned back to look at him instead.


    "No," Styx answered with a light smile, "but I thought it might make you feel better if you thought that we could make it out easily." He rested his hand against the pillar, feeling its cool surface as he smiled fondly at the memories this particular platform held for him. There were many times in his childhood that he had come to the platform for introspection. From here he could see the entirety of the Lower Shade, and had been able to daydream of exploring the distant shadows. He sighed as the memory faded and he was brought back to his present problems. "In all honesty," he said, meeting Prism''s eyes, "dodging the patrols once we get up there will be the hardest part. There are only three exits to the surface that I know of, and I''m sure all three will be guarded."


    "I''m not worried about the patrols," Prism said grimly. He winced and touched his ribs where Fasha had stabbed him. "Unless Fasha is waiting for us."


    "Are you sure you shouldn''t be worried?" Styx asked as he eyed the area of the wound. Though the clothing that Prism wore prevented him from seeing the injury clearly, the entire section of cloth from his armpit to his hip was caked in blood. Prism wasn''t bleeding anymore but he appeared to be getting weaker by the minute. "You aren''t looking too good," Styx observed. "We need to have that knife wound checked."


    "I''m fine, and we must reach the city as soon as possible," Prism replied, dismissing Styx''s concern with a wave of his hand. "I can still fight my way up, even if I have to take it easy."


    "But you''re still concerned about Fasha catching up to us?" Styx replied, raising his eyebrows as he shook his head. He glanced worriedly at Prism''s wounded side again as he asked, "What is your relationship with him? It seemed like the two of you had history."


    "Ancient history, best left in the past," Prism replied noncommittally. He sighed as he saw the worry still present in Styx''s face. "I suppose there is no use in lying to you. This wound is going to take some time to heal, and it will also take quite a bit of my energy," he admitted, and then shrugged as he continued, "I can handle any common fighter, but Fasha is better than most. At my current strength I wouldn''t stand a chance against him."


    "I saw him get pulled down by that monster," Styx replied with a shiver, "Even if he does survive, he won''t exactly be in the best shape either." He laid a concerned hand on Prism''s arm and insisted, "I''m serious though; we should get you looked over before we leave. Madame Godani has the best doctors in The Shade in her employ."


    "We really don''t have the time, though I appreciate your concern," Prism answered with a patient smile. "I''ll find a Fedain when we''ve made it to the surface. They''re the only ones who can help me."


    "You might have a hard time with that. Fedain are rare in Pentalus. I''m surprised you don''t know that," Styx replied, shaking his head in disbelief. He took hold of Prism''s arm and tried to drag him back toward the stairs as he insisted, "She really does have the best doctors around, Prism. Come on, Madame Godani is still working on putting everything in order. We have time."


    "No. I''m sorry Styx, but I must insist," Prism said as he slipped his arm smoothly from Styx''s grasp. "They can''t do anything. I''m sure of it."


    "Why not?" Styx asked in bewilderment.


    "I''ve been poisoned," Prism explained calmly, "My na . . ." he paused as if searching for a different word than he had initially intended to use, "my natural resistance to poison is holding it at bay, but only someone who can pull the poison out of my system will be able to heal me quickly. I may still be able to fix it on my own, but it will take a while."


    "Poisoned!? Is it anything like the poison that mons . . . demon hit me with?" Styx asked, his worry doubling. "Are you sure that we can''t do anything?"


    "For the last time, no, there''s nothing you can do," Prism snapped, finally losing his patience. With a bit more composure he added, "And no, it''s not something from a Breathstealer, though it is still a demonic poison. I''ve felt its sting before."


    "Aren''t the demons still sealed up above?" Styx asked, glancing anxiously toward the ceiling as if looking for the pillars of air that waited for them above. He had only been to Pentalus a few times in his life, but that time had been spent on rooftops where the pillars were in easy view. "How many has Salidar freed?"


    "From my understanding," Prism replied quickly, "only the one."


    Styx shook his head in confusion and asked, "Then how were you poisoned by a demon before this?"


    "You''re not going to let this go, are you?" Prism replied. He rolled his eyes and growled, turning away from Styx. At first Styx thought that Prism had been growling in anger at him, but then he watched Prism grip his side again as he breathed heavily.


    "No," Styx agreed, stepping up beside him again. "What aren''t you telling me? I think I''ve proven myself to you enough that you can trust me."


    "I''m not worried about trusting you, Styx, I''m worried about losing your assistance," Prism admitted, meeting his eyes again. "I think you will have a hard time believing my tale," Prism explained, "especially due to the knowledge I''ve received recently."


    "Listen, Prism. You may be older than me, but I think I''ve seen my fair share of things in my short life," Styx replied with a sincere and supportive smile. "You''d be surprised what I''d be willing to believe." He laughed but it quickly became a shudder as he continued, "Don''t you remember me telling you about the lake monsters? Tall tales are something I''m quite accustomed to."


    "I suppose you have a point, my young friend," Prism said with a smile. "Very well, I''ll give you the summary while we wait."


    "But you''ll finish the story when we reach the top, right?" Styx asked excitedly.


    "If we live that long, then yes. I''ll tell you everything I can," Prism agreed. He hesitated and locked eyes with Styx, seeming to stare into his soul. Styx was about to comment when Prism sighed and added, "You may need the knowledge before this is over, in all honesty. I suppose it would be good to confide in someone."


    "I''m glad," Styx replied with another smile. "Now, tell me. Please."


    "Very well." Prism looked away from Styx and stared off into The Shade, but Styx knew he wasn''t looking for anything out in the cavern. He was searching for some distant memory, and Prism revealed just how distant as he began, "It all started eight hundred years ago, give or take a decade."


    "Eight hundred years!?" Styx exclaimed, "You''ve been alive for eight hundred years?"


    "Styx, if I''m going to tell this story, you can''t interrupt me at every point that you find difficult to believe," Prism replied dryly, frowning in displeasure. "If you keep it up, I won''t bother trying at all."


    "I''m sorry," Styx replied, dropping his eyes. "Please go on. I''ll keep my mouth shut."


    "Eight hundred years ago . . ." Prism began again, but then hesitated as he waited to see if Styx would challenge him again before continuing, "The demons were unleashed upon this world. They were a scourge such as no one had ever seen before. Who it was that opened the portal from their realm to ours remains a mystery, but, regardless of who was responsible, the action led to the deaths of thousands within the first day." He shook his head in disgust, the ghosts of those days still haunting him. He took a deep breath and continued, looking into the darkness so that Styx wouldn''t see the pain in his eyes. "By the end of first week the death toll had reached millions, though it began to slow after that. The people of the world had gained their footing, and were fighting back with better success, though it was still a losing battle."


    "Like many of my fellow countrymen, I went to the front lines to do my duty in defending the world," Prism said without emotion. His mind was filled with images from those days, and he had to repress a shudder as he allowed himself to remember. "It was there that I learned to fight demons the way that I do. It was there that I became the fighter I am today, because every day was a fight for survival. Every day was a chance that your body would be amongst those left to rot on the battle field."


    "The war raged on for two decades, and we lost ground every day. The demons were too numerous, and they only seemed to be gaining in numbers," Prism went on grimly. "We realized that the gate must have remained open, and a desperate plan was hatched. A small group would venture behind enemy lines to try to shut the gate. We took the greatest of us all, the most skilled warriors, the most capable healers, and the most powerful magi. We would send the best or none at all, for the gate had to be sealed at all costs. We couldn''t win as long as their numbers remained infinite."


    "Obviously you succeeded," Styx observed, "The demons aren''t around anymore."


    "Oh yes, we did manage to seal the gate, but the demons that were already here didn''t go anywhere," Prism replied with a mirthless laugh. "Instead, their ferocity increased. With no home to return to, they had little left to lose. The war continued, and we continued to lose."


    Prism winced and reached to his side involuntarily, momentarily pausing his story. As he pulled his hand away he glared at Styx again, daring him to say something about doctors. Upon seeing nothing but genuine concern he returned to his story. "Once again, it was time for a desperate plan."


    "What was it?" Styx asked, forgetting in his excitement about his promise to keep his mouth shut.


    "Neredos, the Shining Knight, came up with an idea to lure the demon generals together," Prism explained.


    "Demon generals?" Styx interjected.


    This time Prism gave him a hard look and said, "I thought you said that you weren''t going to interrupt?" When Styx mouthed a quick apology and looked down again Prism sighed and explained, "There were six demon generals who led their six armies. Vhor, Ibrix, Nobak, Quay, Aika, and Goden. Those are not their actual names, but those were the names the Gor gave them. Each of the armies were different and made up entirely of one type of demon." Almost as an afterthought he added, "The type of demon that you faced was a Goden."


    Styx rolled the name across his tongue as he remembered his fight against the demon. He hadn''t thought of it having a name at the time, but it did make sense. Maybe they even had a language. To him it had been a monster, and nothing more, but if they were organized into armies then they must be intelligent. It was not simply a beast that had killed Kutos and Hurr but a dangerous and dedicated killer.


    "As I was saying before," Prism continued, drawing Styx back from his thoughts, "A plan was presented to bring the demon generals together, and end them once and for all. When they arrived, we soldiers kept them busy while Neredos'' mages began to work a very powerful spell. It was the strongest magic that the humans involved had ever dared to attempt, and I believe that it was only because the Gor were lending their support that it worked at all. The demons were sealed in massive pillars of air, apparently trapping them in stasis." He chuckled as he added, "I only found out recently that the plan succeeded."


    Prism stopped speaking, which Styx took as an opportunity to ask a question. "You only found out recently?" Styx asked with a wry grin. "The demons have been sealed the entire time. What took you so long?"


    "Ah, well therein lies the reason why we''re even talking now," Prism explained with a smile. "I''m human, just like you, and as far as I know, humans normally don''t live for that long. Certainly not for eight hundred years," He laughed with enthusiasm. "I had the misfortune of being trapped between a demon''s legs when it was sealed up, and I was sealed right along with it. Through sheer happenstance, that was the pillar Salidar chose to dissolve in testing his new knowledge, and I was released with the demon."


    "It took me a moment to realize that things were different, and that I wasn''t on a battlefield anymore. It''s not like me to fail to notice things like that. I suppose I was simply caught up in the adrenaline," Prism explained, rolling his eyes at the memory of his failure. "Salidar told me where I was," he went on, "and at first I thought he was hunting the demons, just like I had been, but then Maxthane made a blood pact with the beast . . ."


    "Maxthane did what!?" Styx asked in surprise, his grin fading fast.


    "You didn''t know?" Prism replied, showing his own surprise. "Why do you think that Goden was in the arena, instead of killing everything in sight? How do you think they managed to bring it down here without being noticed by the citizens of the city above unless it was docile?" With a tight-lipped frown he added, "Maxthane controls the demon, or at least has a semblance of control over it."


    "No," Styx said, unable to believe what he was hearing, "He couldn''t. Why . . .?" He trailed off again as he felt his anger from earlier returning. Everything Maxthane had said to him, all the promises that he wouldn''t turn out like his father¡ªthey were all lies. He felt a pit in his stomach as he growled, "That demon killed Kutos and Hurr, and it almost killed me. How could he do that?"


    "Maxthane?" Prism asked, and the look on Styx''s face told him everything he needed to know. "He seems to have a very gentle soul, but he lives in his father''s shadow," he explained laying a hand lightly on Styx''s arm. "I imagine he is only going along with the plan because Salidar is forcing him to, but then again, nothing in life is certain."


    "No," Styx whispered, burying his face in his hands, "this isn''t happening. It can''t be true."


    "Sometimes the truth is the worst thing a person can hear," Prism replied quietly, "but it''s always for the best."


    Before Styx could respond a voice called out to them from above. Drake was descending from the next platform up, he dropped to the wooden planks beside them a few seconds later. "We''re ready," he said as he caught his breath, "Madame Godani has everything in place to get you up there."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "Understood," Prism answered with an appreciative nod. "We''ll be on our way then." He placed his hand on the wall to start climbing but then sensed he was the only one moving. Looking back at Styx he asked, "Styx, are you coming?"


    "Yes," Styx replied instinctively, but he remained in place until he felt Prism''s impatient glare. "I''ll be right behind you," he promised. Prism nodded and resumed his climb.


    "Are you all right?" Drake asked, his one good eye showing concern.


    "No," Styx answered quietly, and without explaining further he moved to the pillar and started after Prism.


    Climbing was something he could do automatically, which gave him time to think about the revelation Prism had given him. Maxthane was directly responsible for the deaths of Kutos and Hurr. That reality was something he now had to deal with, and he wasn''t sure that he could.


    Over the short time since they had escaped from the complex Styx had been filled with a longing to return. He had wanted to go back and free Maxthane from Salidar''s influence almost as much as he desired to survive. Only two things had stopped him; one being Prism''s need to escape and his agreement to help, and the other that freeing Maxthane would have been suicidal. Now he had to question the entire idea. Did Maxthane actually want to be freed? Did he want to escape from the life he lived? If so, how could he have so easily allowed that demon to kill, when he could have prevented it with a thought?


    Questions continued to plague him as they ascended.


    They were passed from one guild contact to another to keep them moving, but he let Prism do the talking, as he was too withdrawn to do anything except climb. His anger rose the more he thought about it, and by the time they reached The Upper Shade it was a white-hot rage. No matter what Maxthane''s reasons for doing what he had it was unforgiveable. He was so wrapped up in his rage that he barely noticed how much the climb taxed Prism, though he did note that Prism appeared to be slowing down the higher they went, and he would clutch at his side more and more often.


    The last guild contact left them at the top of the pillar. The only thing separating them from the staircase leading to the surface was a narrow bridge made of ropes and wooden planks. The coast appeared to be clear; meaning they had made it up fast enough to avoid any patrols that Salidar had put in place. He started around the pillar to cross the bridge when Prism pulled him back roughly.


    Styx''s anger spiked as he turned to face Prism, but he was shushed as Prism pointed to a shadowy section of the stairs. Styx was surprised that he hadn''t noticed that someone was standing there while Prism had, even without Styx''s better vision in the dark, but he had been distracted by his emotions. Styx took several deep breaths to calm his anger but he wasn''t able to entirely push his rage aside.


    Prism studied the person in the shadows critically, and Styx followed his lead. Recognition struck him as Prism set his feet in preparation to dash across the bridge, and Styx laid a staying hand on Prism''s arm, causing Prism to look at him with a raised eyebrow.


    "It''s Dogo," Styx offered in explanation. "I''ll try to distract him," he suggested in a whisper. "I think I can make him listen. You try to sneak past while I''m talking to him."


    Prism looked at Styx as if he were insane for making such a suggestion. "I can''t let you sacrifice yourself, Styx," he replied, eyeing the man in the shadows suspiciously. "I''m coming with you. We''ll fight our way through."


    "Hey, you''ve trusted me to lead you through The Shade this far, would you mind trusting me a little longer?" Styx asked with an exasperated frown. "I know how this man works," he explained firmly, "and I''m sure I can give you the opportunity to get by."


    "All right, I''ll trust you," Prism agreed with a slight nod, "but if you get into trouble I''m doubling back."


    "Don''t," Styx ordered with a glare. "They aren''t looking for me, and I can escape back into The Shade if I have to." With a forced grin he added, "You need to get out and warn Neredos, remember?"


    Prism looked torn, but all it took was one more look at the wound in Prism''s side for Styx to know that this was the right course of action. He made the decision for Prism and took his silence as affirmation. "Good. Now, get moving."


    Without waiting for a reply he stepped out onto the bridge and walked toward Dogo''s hiding spot, making no move to conceal his movements. When he reached the other side, he hurried up the stairs toward the exit, knowing that Dogo would get in his way once he reached the right position. He hoped that Prism would be doing the opposite and climb along the wall to avoid notice, but he couldn''t look behind him to see. To look for Prism would give his position away and ruin the entire plan.


    As expected, Dogo stepped out of the shadows to block his path before he passed by. "Styx, it''s a pleasure to see you again," Dogo greeted pleasantly. "I see you heeded my advice and escaped. Too bad you decided to come this way," he added with a solemn shake of his head, "Now I''m going to have to take you back."


    "I thought you said that people who escaped had earned their freedom, Dogo," Styx replied in surprise. He had been hoping that Dogo could be persuaded to let him go, but now Styx was worried that he had misjudged how the bounty hunter would react. "What happened to Salidar''s respect for those who had what it took to survive?"


    "Two things have changed since then. One, you escaped with someone valuable enough that Salidar was willing to break from his usual pattern," Dogo explained with a neutral expression, then smiled as he continued, "Two, you managed to capture the heart of the prince, and Salidar wants to make his son happy."


    "Well, unfortunately for him," Styx replied, barely managing keep his anger subdued, "I don''t want to see the prince. Not now or ever again."


    "Really? Why is that?" Dogo asked, returning to neutral. But his eyes betrayed his amusement as he added, "You don''t like his attention?"


    "Not particularly," Styx growled. "Do you remember a man named Kutos?"


    "Yes, of course," Dogo replied immediately, smiling fondly, "He was a smart man, and brave as well. From my understanding he has become quite the gladiator. Why do you bring him up?"


    "From your understanding?" Styx echoed in a murmur, "Do you never watch the fights?"


    "If you''ve met Kutos, then you already know I spent a great deal of time in that arena," Dogo said with a shrug. His arms were still outstretched as he explained, "I don''t return there if I can help it."


    "So you haven''t heard that Kutos is dead?" Styx asked angrily. Speaking the truth so plainly brought him back to his thoughts on Maxthane. He clenched his fists and his teeth to stop himself from growling as his anger bubbled to the surface.


    "No," Dogo whispered in reply, looking down at his feet as he digested the information slowly. He looked back up with a tight frown and asked, "May I ask how it happened?"


    "Maybe, but only if you make a promise to me." Though he hated to use the information as blackmail, he needed leverage if he was going to make it out of this.


    "I avoid making those," Dogo replied dryly, "Why should I now? I can find out Kutos'' fate easily enough when I return with you in tow," he explained, "I don''t exactly need to know at this particular moment. I''m a patient man."


    Styx was at a loss for words. All of his ideas hadn''t brought him any luck in bargaining, and no matter how patient Dogo was, he would eventually tire of the game and capture him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Prism skirting along the wall, already past their position. He had to keep this going long enough that Prism could make it out, and then he could run back the way he came, jumping off the cliff face if he had to, though Dogo would likely throw his bola at him and cause him to drop out of the air like he had the first time, only this time there''d be no guarantee of a safe place to land.


    Either way, Prism didn''t deserve to be captured again and brought back to Salidar. Everything Styx had learned about Prism indicated that he was a good man, and good men didn''t belong in The Shade. He smiled as he remembered their conversation on the shore before Fasha had attacked them; he had an idea.


    "Because you seem like an honorable man," Styx answered. Dogo''s eyes widened as Styx added, "And after what I tell you, you will find it to be the honorable thing to let me go."


    "Me, an honorable man?" Dogo replied incredulously. "Interesting. Okay, what is the promise you''d like me to make?"


    Styx sighed in relief as he said, "Promise me that you will let me go if you agree that Salidar is in the wrong after I tell you what I know."


    "Very well, I''ll humor you," Dogo agreed, crossing his arms and settling back on his heels after gesturing for Styx to continue speaking.


    "Salidar is making a move on the Everbright City," Styx began, "He plans to kill Neredos."


    "Nothing out of the ordinary there," Dogo interrupted. "You''re going to have to do much better than that."


    "His plan is to release the demons sealed in Pentalus," Styx went on, starting to feel nervous, "And unleash them on the city."


    "Now that is an interesting piece of news, but why would Salidar do something like that?" Dogo asked. "He''s not a man who kills for the sake of killing, nor is he prone to destroy randomly. From the old tales, demons would kill everything in their path; they wouldn''t go after Neredos first just because Salidar asked them to." He chuckled and grinned as Styx.


    "He thinks that he has figured out how to control them," Styx explained.


    "Oh, well I can''t see how he''d have much of a problem then. If Salidar thinks he can control something, he does. It''s as simple as that," Dogo replied with a touch of finality. Styx''s heart fell as Dogo went on, "Since I''m not against the revolution, I can''t say that anything you''ve said indicates that Salidar is in the wrong. But what does this have to do with Kutos, anyway?"


    "Salidar has already freed a demon, and brought it back with him to The Shade, under the control of Prince Maxthane," Styx spat the name out at the end, and had to push his anger back down before he could continue. "They put it in the pit, along with Kutos, Hurr, and myself, and made us fight the beast."


    "Salidar used a demon in a pit fight?" Dogo asked, seeming genuinely put off by the news.


    "Yes, and it was a slaughter. We didn''t stand a chance," Styx answered bitterly. Guilt replaced anger momentarily as he explained, "Kutos died protecting me, impaled on the end of the demon''s claws. Hurr, on the other hand, wasn''t so lucky."


    "What do you mean?"


    Styx took a deep, calming breath before answering, "The demon only pierced his shoulder, but the injury allowed a poison to enter his wound. The poison stole his breath away, causing him to suffocate on the arena floor while the crowd watched. It did the same to me, until my life was saved by Grim."


    "Grim''s a good man," Dogo replied simply as he mulled over the news. With a confused look he asked, "How did you survive the fight itself? If this demon is as ferocious as you say, match it with that poison and you should be a dead man. Why didn''t it kill you?"


    The question stirred his rage up again, and each word was difficult to get out as Styx replied, "It was stopped at the last second by Maxthane, who was controlling it through a blood pact. He was controlling it the whole time. Maxthane killed Kutos and Hurr."


    "Although that is unsettling, I can''t say that it''s not to be expected. There is always a risk when you walk into the arena. Even the most skilled warrior can still slip up at the wrong moment and end up dead to something they never expected. I''ve accepted that," Dogo said with another shrug. "Is Salidar wrong in staging fights with demons? Maybe, but you don''t have me convinced. I''ll mourn Kutos, but this is the way it is in The Shade. You know that as well as anyone."


    "Why do you keep coming back?"


    "Excuse me?" Dogo asked, surprised by the question.


    "You escaped from Salidar once. You fought your way out of the arena and won your freedom. Why do you still work for him?"


    "I don''t usually," Dogo replied, shaking his head, "I work for the highest bidder, and when Salidar has a job that means the highest bidder is him. He pays well, and money is survival. Besides, we could do worse for a king."


    "Could we?" Styx asked, his anger riding every word that rolled off his tongue, "Do you not work for him because you found him honorable? Isn''t it because he let you leave, and therefore earned your respect and your fealty?"


    "That could be it," Dogo admitted, "What are you getting at?"


    "He''s broken that code. Twice," Styx replied firmly. "He''s hunting down two people who escaped, one because he knows too much, and the other for no reason other than to make his son happy. He doesn''t care at all about what it will do to those who escaped if they go back. He''s lost track of his honor."


    "Honor this and honor that. You keep on using that word . . ." Dogo said quietly, as if he had not meant to vocalize the thought at all. Resuming his neutral expression he went on, "Still, I suppose you have a point. Say I do let you go, what will you do?"


    "I suppose once I get the chance I''ll leave Pentalus and The Shade far behind. I''ve spent my entire life here, but I don''t think I can stay here anymore," Styx said helplessly. "I can''t let Maxthane have me again. Not after what he did to Kutos. I''ll die before I do."


    "Very well, leave. I''ll tell them that you didn''t come this way," Dogo said as he stepped aside and gestured to the stairs behind him. With a grin he added, "And I''ll even let your friend go too, considering he''s already slipped past me."


    "Wait, what?" Styx replied, surprised at Dogo''s sudden change in attitude.


    "Styx, from the moment Salidar sent the request to me I knew I couldn''t follow through on it," Dogo explained, his grin becoming a fond smile. "You''re right when you called me an honorable man. I couldn''t believe that he was going against his creed. I had been planning on letting you go the whole time."


    "Dogo . . . why?"


    "Why what?" Dogo asked in confusion. "I just told you why I''m doing this. Or do you mean to ask why I harassed you instead of simply letting you by? I wanted to see if you had learned anything from your time down there in the complex. I had expected we would not meet for years to come, but you turned out to be more capable than I had imagined, unless someone let you go."


    "Someone did let me go. Maxthane, actually," Styx admitted in his astonishment, managing to say the name without any anger.


    "Well, that''s interesting. He can''t be all bad if he did that," Dogo said quickly. Before Styx could argue Dogo continued, "Styx, you''ve already come a long way. I saw potential in you when I captured you yesterday, and I knew from experience that time spent in the service of Salidar was a great way to bring that potential to fruition. Of course at the time I had no idea what Salidar had planned. I might have let you go yesterday if I had known that."


    "Dogo . . ." Styx began, but at a loss for words he gave up trying to explain his emotions and said with a simple nod, "Thank you."


    "I''d be lying to you if I said that I was being entirely altruistic," Dogo said as Styx moved past him up the stairs, causing him to turn back and regard Dogo quizzically. "I mean, I would have let you go anyway, but remember when I said that I work for the highest bidder?"


    "Yes."


    "She may not show it often, but your mother cares for you a great deal, Styx," Dogo said with another smile. "Remember that." And then he turned and walked back down the stairs and into the darkness without waiting for Styx to respond.


    Shaking his head in wonder, Styx realized that Prism had already made it out and would probably be waiting for him up above. He resumed his climb up the staircase until he reached the cave entrance. This entrance was the only one he knew well, and led into a root cellar of a brewery in Pentalus. It was in a poorer section of the city, which made it easier for Shades to blend in since most of the populace wore dirty clothing and bathed rarely. The door to the cellar was wide open, and that meant Prism had already moved out into the streets.


    Styx hurried up the steps and out the door without thinking about what might await him. As he stepped into the dark alleyway, he heard voices coming from nearby. There were five men huddled together around a form on the ground. Prism.


    It didn''t take long for them to notice him standing there, and one of the men, twice his size, asked him gruffly, "Who the hell are you?"


    "What are you doing to him?" Styx asked, ignoring the question while glancing down at Prism''s body. Without considering the odds he took up a fighting stance and ordered, "Let him go!"


    "And risk the wrath of Salidar?" the man laughed. "Who do you think you are, kid?


    "He''s not important," spoke a different thug. This one was more his size, but he had an air of authority that made it clear he was the leader of the group. "Listen kid, we''ve had enough trouble today, all right? We could kill you if we wanted to, but I''m tired, and I''d rather not waste the energy I need to carry this guy. You can walk away now and we''ll forget you tried to stop us."


    When Styx didn''t move, the smaller thug said more forcefully, "You''ve got ten seconds to get out of here. Once that''s up, you''re dead."


    "All right, I''m leaving," Styx replied, throwing up his hands in defeat as he backed away toward the mouth of the alleyway, realizing that the odds were not in his favor, especially while they held the apparently unconscious Prism hostage. "You won''t get any trouble from me."


    "Good choice, kid," the thug replied with a nod. "You might want to get out of Sabreeza''s territory. He doesn''t like beggars hanging around."


    Styx left the alleyway quickly, but as soon as he was on the main street he put his back to the wall and waited for the thugs to leave with Prism. He drew a knife from his belt and prepared to throw it as soon as one of the men came into view.


    The knife soon found its new home in the arm of the large man who had first spoken to him. The man yelped in pain and pulled the knife out of his arm as Styx shouted, "Prism! Get up! Run!" before taking off into the crowded street.


    He heard several of the other men shouting at him and begin to chase him, but then they were being called back by their leader. "I told you, he''s unimportant. Sabreeza said that this is the man we want. Get back here and help me carry him!"


    Styx looked over his shoulder and realized that he was no longer being pursued, and he let out a frustrated growl before doubling back to make another attempt at freeing Prism. He was now unarmed, and he had no idea how to face five men who were all bigger than he, and decided to shadow them instead, to see where they were taking Prism.


    Keeping pace with them was easy as they made their way down the street, and every skill he had learned as a thief helped him to avoid their notice, despite this being foreign terrain. His few forays into Pentalus hadn''t given him enough knowledge to feel comfortable here, and he doubted he would ever feel that way, but he didn''t have to be comfortable to survive.


    He followed them until they reached a large building that seemed to serve as some sort of office. When he saw the sign near the large set of double doors he learned it was the merchant guildhall of the district. Prism was carried inside, through a side door, which Styx marked well in his memory.


    He couldn''t abandon Prism. The man had rescued him from certain death several times and had only asked to be guided out of The Shade in return. He owed it to Prism to attempt a rescue, but it would take some time to formulate a plan that would work. But one way or another, he would find his way inside.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 13: Healing in Reverse

    Sleep escaped Maxthane. The last two days had been a crazy ride of emotions, and he couldn''t stop thinking about what he had been through. He sat up straight in his bed as he realized that it had been going on for longer than that. He had been troubled since they had freed the demon. What Styx had done was bring him to an understanding of what was bothering him.


    Styx; there was another subject he couldn''t stop thinking about. He glanced toward his window, wondering what had become of the boy he loved. It had been nearly a full day since he had let Styx go, and Maxthane was sure that his father would have told him something by now if Styx had been caught or killed. No, he would have known. He would have felt it if Styx were dead. Even though he didn''t understand the connection they had, he was certain he would know if that event occurred.


    There was a small possibility that his father wouldn''t have told him. Salidar had left in anger when they had last spoken, and, though there was no way to be sure without approaching him, Maxthane would not be surprised if his father was still angry with him, but he had to know what his father knew about Styx. He slid out of his bed and dressed, wrapping his dhoti around his waist and stepping into his worn leather boots.


    He had always preferred to keep his style of dress simple to allow him easier access to his tattoos. Tattoo magic required a certain level of focus to activate, and users typically did so through a habitual action that helped them reach that focus. The action was usually something like touching the tattoo as he had seen Styx do, and Maxthane activated his own the same way. The loose clothing he wore allowed him to reach the tattoos on his legs easily.


    Some of the other tattoos he had were always active, such as the ones on his back. Blood pacts such as the link he had established with the demon, were one of several types of passive tattoos. These granted their powers at all times but were far more complex to enchant and incurred a great deal more risk as well. Maxthane grimaced as he remembered the story he had heard of the man who had used fish blood in his tattoo to grant him the ability to breathe underwater. Even though it worked for a short time, the human body was never meant to behave in that way, and eventually he was found belly up in the water, bloated, his body unable to handle the stress.


    Despite the risks, Maxthane had never had any reservations about inking his body with magic. He hadn''t even been worried about the blood pact itself when they had freed the demon. His reservations had been of a far different sort; what they were doing was wrong, and he had known it since the beginning. It was time to face that and do something about it.


    He sighed as he turned toward the door of his bedroom. He had to face his father and explain his position. Maybe Salidar could be convinced that this was a bad idea, or maybe not, but he owed it to Styx and himself to try, not to mention the gladiators who had died facing the demon. While he had never been fond of the arena, he had also never thought of it from the perspective of the gladiators before. Styx had changed that. He didn''t feel guilty, but he did feel indirectly responsible for their deaths.


    After leaving his chambers he made his way toward his father''s rooms. Before he had gone half the distance, he felt a tug on his blood pact with the demon. It was getting excited about something, though the pact wasn''t strong enough to allow him to know much more.


    Suspicious of what that excitement could mean, Maxthane changed his direction and headed toward the arena. He quickened his pace as he came closer to the pit, the sound of cheering giving him a sense of urgency. There was a fight about to happen. Salidar hadn''t told him, probably because he knew how Maxthane would react.


    When Maxthane reached the viewing area he made his way through the crowd of spectators toward Salidar''s usual spot. Each spectator grunted as he pushed past, but once they recognized him they kept their mouths shut and let him pass. It wasn''t long before he stood behind his father, who was looking down at the pit with a thoughtful expression. Before Maxthane interrupted his father he followed Salidar''s gaze down to the arena floor. Standing near the gladiator entrance was a single man; the Fedain who had helped save Styx''s life.


    "What is going on?" Maxthane asked as he stepped up beside his father. Salidar turned at the sound, his eyes widened slightly. Then his face tensed briefly before his features softened altogether.


    "I need more information about the demons before we proceed with the plan," Salidar explained neutrally, turning back to look down at the arena. "This is the best method I have."


    "So, you''re still going through with it?" Maxthane asked as his anger began to rise. He glanced nervously at the nearby spectators, but realizing that they would be too focused on the fight to hear his words, said spitefully, "I think we''re making a terrible mistake."


    "Calm down, Max," Salidar replied coolly. He gestured toward the pit as he explained. "I''m doing this because of what you said earlier. You''re right that the plan is dangerous. This fight will tell me more, and the more knowledge I have, the better prepared I will be to deal with the demons once we free them."


    "And one single man against a demon is going to give you the answers you''re looking for?" Maxthane asked boldly. "You''re sending him to die," he accused, "and you know it."


    "They are my men to send to die, Maxthane," Salidar replied with a dangerous glare, "They broke my laws, and I am punishing them. Besides, do you realize who is down there?" He gestured down at the arena as he explained, "Grim, the Fedain. He''s the man who killed Jakkel. I need to make an example of those who kill the guards. We can''t be having that."


    "Jakkel deserved death much more than that man does," Maxthane muttered, but it was still loud enough for his father to hear.


    "You might be right about that," Salidar admitted, smiling despite Maxthane''s insubordination. "But Grim is also the person most likely to survive in a battle against the demon," Salidar reminded his son, "You''ve seen time and time again how he kills. We need to see if he can do the same to a demon."


    "This is horrible!" Maxthane replied, but before he could say anything else, he felt the excitement of the demon spike. It wasn''t hard to realize why as he saw the wall containing it slide open and the beast stepped into the arena with a roar. It glared at the Fedain standing placidly before it, and charged toward Grim without any more hesitation, its horns in line with Grim''s chest.


    Grim waited until the last minute to dodge out of the way. To the crowd''s astonishment and delight, he took the least expected opening, and rolled in a tight ball between its legs, a movement that seemed impossible to the spectators eager for action. Rising up behind the demon, Grim laid his hand on the demon''s back for only a moment, but the demon howled in pain and turned on him with eyes blazing.


    Fury fueling its every move, the demon began a ferocious chain of sweeping attacks with its claws, but Grim managed to stay just outside of reach. Each swipe was met with a fluid movement that made it seem as if the Fedain were dancing. Every step Grim took was deliberate, and his face showed a focus unmatched by any warrior Maxthane had ever seen.


    Every so often, Grim would manage to lay his hand on the demon''s flesh and the demon would roar in agony. The longer the contact was maintained the louder the beast would howl. The crowd would roar in turn, reaching a volume that was almost enough to drown out the sound of the demon.


    It was different for Maxthane than it was for all the other spectators. As the demon was struck he felt a tremor through the blood pact, as if it were threatening to break. While he couldn''t feel the demon''s pain itself, he knew that only one thing was supposed to cause a termination of a blood pact without destroying the magic itself, and that was death.


    "If you feel that strongly about this," Salidar said at length, drawing little more than a quick glance from Maxthane, "Hold the demon back like you did last time. Defy my will that Grim face the demon, and see what happens."


    Despite the potential threat in his father''s words, Maxthane decided to make the attempt suggested. He reached through the pact and forced his will on the demon, commanding it to back away. To his horror the command did little more than to cause the demon to shake its head as it resisted the order. It growled and looked up at Maxthane, but then returned its attention to its dangerous foe. The demon thrust forward with its clawed arm and Grim slid fluidly to his knees to duck it before reaching up and wrapping his hands around the demon''s arm.


    "I can''t!" Maxthane admitted, as he tried to regain control of the pact, "It''s too powerful." The demon tried to rip its arm away, only to find Grim holding on firmly. Only when the demon reached with its other arm to pry Grim off did he let go, revealing gaping wounds on the demon''s arm. The crowd cheered as the wounds began to drip dark blood, but the demon came back with even greater ferocity. Maxthane felt something that surprised him from the blood pact as the demon roared at Grim. No longer was the demon dominated purely by rage, but desperation now guided its attacks. It was afraid.


    "You''re just saying that because you want to prove that we can''t control them," Salidar accused.


    "No!" Maxthane protested, but was forced to stop as he gasped instead as the demon lowered its head and tried to gore Grim. The horns connected solidly with Grim, and he was lifted into the air before being thrown hard against the arena wall, followed by a tremendous roar from the beast.


    "See? It''s stronger than it was before. I can''t control it, and that man is going to die for your experiment!" Maxthane cried loud enough to draw a few glances from some of the nearby spectators, but Salidar''s reaction was the one that silenced him. With a forceful backhand, the Underking struck his son with enough force to make him collapse to his knees.


    "You will watch your tone with me, Maxthane." Salidar warned as his son stared up at him in disbelief. "I tire of your protests, and I can no longer abide your open defiance. These are my prisoners, and I will do with them what I will."


    The Underking''s face showed no emotion, and Maxthane''s mirrored his. It was as if Salidar hitting him had placed a wall between them. Both knew their relationship as it had been was now over. Neither knew how to handle the situation, and so they simply stared at each other, until finally Salidar chose to look away, though before he did Maxthane caught a glimmer of something in his eye that almost made him want to forgive his father; regret. "It makes no difference," Salidar said simply, "It doesn''t look like the demon is going to survive this."


    As Maxthane followed his father''s gaze back to the arena, a horrific sight awaited him. The demon appeared to be falling apart, its flesh disintegrating under Grim''s touch. It continued to swing at the dancing Fedain, but each successive movement was more sluggish than the last; the strikes came nowhere near their mark. Maxthane noted that the demon''s eyes had been melted away, and he realized that Grim had taken the hit from the horns on purpose in order to blind the beast with his touch. Grim''s tactics were proving to be more impressive the longer he remained in action.


    The demon lunged forward with one more desperate strike, its claws aimed at Grim''s chest. Grim stepped smoothly around the claws, moving inward and placing his hand on the demon''s chest. It howled in primal agony as its chest began to melt away, black blood falling all over Grim in a torrent, as he remained composed and kept his contact with the demon''s flesh. Within a few seconds the howl was cut short as the demon collapsed to the arena floor, no longer moving.


    Maxthane knew it was dead. He could no longer sense it, and it was almost as if the demon had never been bonded to him. The tattoo on his shoulder became inactive as he felt its magic fade away. There was only one emotion he could define that he felt about the experience; relief.


    "You''re wrong, father. It does make a difference," Maxthane said quietly, staring at the mutilated corpse of the demon as he remembered his inability to force his will upon the beast. "If I couldn''t control him, what makes you think we can control the others?"


    Salidar glanced back at him, his face once again unreadable. He turned to walk away, and Maxthane feared that his father would leave without saying another word to him. To his relief Salidar stopped after walking only a few steps and said, over his shoulder, "Get some rest, Maxthane. I''m done talking about this."Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Though the words still showed that their opinion on the matter differed greatly, it was all Maxthane needed to hear for the time being. He had feared that this argument would tear them apart entirely. As long as his father was still willing to talk to him he knew that there was a chance they could be reconciled, even if that wouldn''t be possible for a while.


    The crowd began to disperse after cheering on Grim''s victory. The fight had been exactly what they had hoped for; they had seen death without any risk to their own lives. The spectators were what he detested most about the arena. They spent their coin to watch men and beasts fight to the death, for no reason other than their own entertainment. Those who delighted in the death of others had no place among the living as far as he was concerned.


    Unable to stand the sight of the people around him, Maxthane returned his attention to the pit. Grim was staring down at the demon with an unreadable expression but his posture showed determination. He too seemed to disregard the crowd, though Maxthane couldn''t tell if it was for a similar reason. There was something about Grim that Maxthane found intriguing on an instinctual level, and even when the guards came to take Grim back to the gladiator''s prison he couldn''t put Grim out of his mind.


    The cleanup crew came in next. These were also prisoners of Salidar, but their crimes had been less than those of the gladiators. They were treated as servants for the most part, but one of their less desirable duties was to clean the arena after matches. Normally he did not envy their tasks, but this time his curiosity got the better of him. As they began to poke at the corpse of the demon, Maxthane made his way from the viewing deck to the arena floor as quickly as he could.


    "Hold up!" He called out to the crew as they pulled out their saws to cut the demon to more manageable pieces. The intent was to move the dead in as few pieces as possible, but with something this large they would have no choice but to cut it down before they threw the parts into the Black Lake. The monsters that lived there had fed well off of the corpses Salidar and his ancestors had sent their way. It was an easy way to dispose of the bodies, as gruesome as it was. Maxthane was not in a rush to let the evidence of this particular battle disappear.


    The servants stopped what they were doing and waited for Maxthane to order them to do otherwise. They knew that to obstruct Maxthane''s will was as good as opposing Salidar himself. The cleanup crew always kept themselves in line, for they knew if they disobeyed then their peers would soon be taking their bodies from the arena floor and throwing them to the dark waters.


    Maxthane examined the corpse carefully, making sure to not touch any of the vile liquids seeping from its open wounds. Though he was horrified as he looked at the carnage he also found it fascinating. He could not fathom what kind of power would be capable of causing such an effect, but he intended to find out. This was the first demon he had ever seen, and it had killed two men effortlessly a day before and had only being stopped by his own force of will. It had then resisted his will, which was something that Maxthane had thought impossible. Now a single man had stopped it. If the demons were to be stopped once they were freed, he needed all the knowledge he could acquire on how to defeat them.


    Despite knowing that his father would not approve, Maxthane made his way to the large iron doors that led to the gladiators'' cell. As there was no longer a fight in progress these doors were no longer barred, as they had been minutes before. That didn''t mean they were not still heavy, and he had to exert himself to pull the doors open. As soon as it was wide enough for him to fit through he stepped inside, surprising the guard on duty on the other side.


    "Prince Maxthane," the guard stammered, "what are you doing down here?"


    "I want to speak to one of the gladiators," Maxthane explained after catching his breath. "Would you mind bringing him here?"


    "Which one? Does your father know about this?"


    "Would I be here if he didn''t?" Maxthane snapped, and the guard immediately bowed in apology. Maxthane continued in his haughtiest voice, pleased that his bluff appeared to have succeeded, "He sent me down here. Now bring me the Fedain. We need to ask him how he managed to kill the demon today."


    "As you wish," the guard replied with a salute. He turned and called down to the next guard post down the hall. "Hey, Cobin, bring up the Fedain. The prince is here to see him."


    The order was met by a snort of disbelief, but when the first guard repeated the call it was greeted by a swift agreement, and a minute later another guard appeared leading a clean and composed Grim, bound in shackles. The guards shared a look of confusion about the meeting but they were not about to question the prince again.


    "Chain him up there and then you may go," Maxthane ordered quickly, gesturing toward a heavy ring set in the door itself.


    "Go?" the first guard asked, glancing at the other guard for an answer before looking back to Maxthane. "Go where?"


    "I don''t care," Maxthane replied coldly, "but come back for him in fifteen minutes. That''s all I''ll need."


    "As you wish," the guards replied in unison. They shackled Grim to the door and saluted, before moving back down the passageway toward the other gladiators.


    Maxthane watched them go, and waited until they would be out of earshot before he turned to Grim. He was at a loss as to where to begin, but Grim did not seem to have any compulsion against starting the conversation on his own.


    "Prince Maxthane," Grim addressed him formally. With what appeared to be genuine concern he observed, "You are not looking very well. Are you ill?"


    "No. Well, perhaps," Maxthane admitted, surprising himself at how easy it was to speak to Grim. "I don''t feel well, it''s true, but I don''t think it''s because I''m sick."


    "Then what can I do for you?" Grim asked with a polite smile. Even though it seemed the expression was forced, Maxthane somehow knew that it wasn''t because Grim found speaking with him unpleasant. "I''m a healer, and nothing more. Am I to heal another young man for you?"


    "No, though I truly appreciate you doing so yesterday," Maxthane replied with a cautious smile, "I have to ask you something else."


    "I will endeavor to answer if I can," Grim offered, inclining his head in a nod.


    "How did you do it?"


    "Do what?"


    "How did you kill that demon? It wasn''t the same as the others I''ve seen you kill," he explained, shuddering as the sight of the demon''s melted carcass came to mind. "The others you aged somehow, but this . . . this was even more disturbing."


    "You found it disturbing? Then why did you watch?" Grim asked, his smile faltering. He shook his head and the smile returned as he said, "I''m sorry, I know you want answers, but I would rather know the context of the question if you are willing to provide one. What brings you to ask this question?"


    "I''m not certain," Maxthane admitted as he looked away, staring at the wall as if searching it for the answer to his inner turmoil. "I did not enjoy watching it, and to be honest I''ve never enjoyed watching the fights. I don''t delight in blood sport." He turned back to meet Grim''s eyes again as he went on, "From the expression you gave at the end of your last match, I don''t believe you care much for it either. To answer your question as well as I can though, I suppose I watch because I can''t look away."


    "Neither can I," Grim confessed with a grimace, and seeing Maxthane''s confusion he went on to explain, "As much as I despise it, I''ve lived a life that draws me to violence. I can''t seem to escape it no matter what I do. I imagine that you feel similarly trapped in your own life."


    Confusion turned to surprise as Maxthane stammered, "How? How did you know?"


    "When you''ve lived as long as I have, reading people becomes second nature," Grim replied casually, his smile back again. Maxthane realized then that Grim defaulted to smiling when he had no other emotion to show. It had a calming effect on him, and for a moment he was lost in the pleasant expression.


    "So you''re finding that your father''s path is not your own?" Grim asked a moment later, drawing him out of his stupor.


    "It seems that way," Maxthane admitted, wincing as he put his hand up to his cheek. He hadn''t realized it before, but mention of Salidar brought back the sting of where his father had struck him. "We''re growing further apart every time we talk," he conceded quietly enough that it was almost a whisper. "Or at least it feels that way."


    "No two people travel the same path, Prince Maxthane," Grim replied with a shake of his head, "Your father''s path was never yours, despite that both of you once thought it was."


    "But you didn''t come to hear the philosophical ramblings of a gladiator, now did you?" Grim went on as Maxthane stared at him curiously, considering his words. "You''re probably not even sure why you came, though you did ask me a question that I have yet to answer. You want to know what I did to that demon."


    "Yes, please," Maxthane said with a nod. "I felt it die. I was blood-pacted to it."


    "Then I must apologize if you felt anything that would cause you grief," Grim replied with another grimace. "I know that it must be an unpleasant feeling, even though I''ve never felt it myself."


    "But what did you do?" Maxthane asked again, driving at the question he thought he wanted answered.


    "I broke it down to its base parts, or at least I began to," Grim explained with a shrug. "It died long before I would have completed the process."


    "Base parts?"


    "Everything that lives is made up of small particles that are bound together by a force that not even the greatest Fedain healers completely understand," Grim continued as if the interruption had never occurred. "Even the demons which never show signs of age are built of the same things as you and I. I simply asked these base particles to release each other, and so the demon began to fall apart."


    "Fascinating," Maxthane replied with a sense of awe. "Oddly enough, knowing that I no longer find it horrifying."


    "That''s too bad."


    "What?" Maxthane asked in genuine surprise. "You would prefer if I were afraid of you?"


    "No. I care little for what the world thinks of me. If I did care I would have died long ago," Grim replied cryptically. "What is unfortunate is that you do not find my ability to kill horrifying," Grim explained as his smile turned to one of sadness. His eyes betrayed an even deeper sorrow, as if a part of him had died in order to bring the smile to his lips. "I think it''s the most atrocious attribute a person can have. Perhaps your path is closer to your father''s than I thought."


    "Wait, I don''t understand what you mean."


    "All life is sacred, Maxthane, and it is a sad thing whenever we must end it, regardless of what that life belongs to. Whether it is man, beast, or even demon, killing another being causes you to lose a part of yourself," Grim explained patiently. After giving Maxthane a moment to digest the thought he added, "Have you ever killed?"


    "No," Maxthane answered. Thinking about it a moment longer he clarified, "Not directly, at any rate. I feel partially responsible for the deaths of Kutos and the other man yesterday, because of my blood pact with the demon. I''ve never done the deed myself."


    "That other man''s name was Hurr," Grim said firmly. He waited for Maxthane to acknowledge the fact with a nod before he continued, "You should know the name of everyone you kill, if you can. But I suppose you didn''t actually kill him, so maybe it doesn''t matter as much." With a shrug he altered the subject slightly, "I advise against killing anything if you can help it. You will know the instant you are forced to kill that you have done something irreversible."


    "But what if I have to kill to survive?"


    "Then I suppose you have to ask yourself if the ends justify the means," Grim replied flatly.


    "That''s what my father always says. He calls it the family motto."


    "It''s a personal choice, Maxthane," Grim replied with another shrug, "But I don''t believe anyone can follow that philosophy in every aspect of their life and still have a soul. From my own experience though, you will sometimes come across something that means enough to you that you''ll do anything to achieve it. Is it wrong to pursue that?" He seemed to be asking the question of himself as much as he was of Maxthane. He shook his head a moment later and said, "I''m not here to tell you what''s right or wrong. You will have to make that choice on your own."


    "I have something that seems important to me, but I don''t know how to achieve it," Maxthane confessed, once again looking away. "Perhaps I''m not open to the necessary means. I don''t want to hurt anyone, especially my father. He may not be the best man, but he''s the only one I''ve ever been close to in my life."


    "What about Styx?"


    The question drew Maxthane''s surprised eyes back to Grim. "You know of him?" He asked in wonder, but then he remembered who he was talking to and went on sheepishly, "Yes, of course you do. He was down here before he faced the arena. And you saved his life."


    "And I saw him before he left," Grim elaborated with his default smile back on his face. "He escaped with Prism after they attempted to free me."


    "You had a shot at freedom and you didn''t take it?" Maxthane asked incredulously.


    "No. I have a duty to the other gladiators," Grim replied with a sigh. "Someone has to protect them, even if it means I have to keep killing."


    "But they escaped¡ªI let Styx go," Maxthane said, abruptly shifting the subject. He didn''t know why it felt like the moment to bring up that piece of information, but it slipped out before he could stop it.


    "Why?" Grim asked. He didn''t appear to be surprised by the news, but he seemed genuinely curious about the answer.


    He didn''t know how to answer the question, but it didn''t seem to matter. He took a deep breath and the words seemed to flow out on their own. "I couldn''t keep him caged. It would have broken his spirit. He is free, and he is meant to stay that way." With a shrug he met Grim''s eyes and explained, "I couldn''t let that part of him die."


    "It appears I was wrong about you," Grim replied with a warm smile. This time, Maxthane knew that he had earned it somehow, and as he regarded the Fedain with confusion Grim explained, "You do have respect for life. Maxthane, for whatever reason you sought me out, I''m glad that you did. I need to tell you something."


    "What''s that?"


    "You are not your father, and you never will be."


    Not knowing what else to say, Maxthane kept his response simple. "Thank you, Grim."


    Grim inclined his head, accepting the thanks before he looked at Maxthane with amusement. "You know, love is perhaps the greatest way to judge if the ends do justify the means."


    "What do you mean?" Maxthane asked.


    "You love Styx, and that''s why you let him go. Believe me, I understand," Grim said with a chuckle. "The first time I ever killed it was for the one I loved. I don''t know that I''ve ever gotten the return I desired."


    Maxthane paused before replying cautiously, "How did you know I loved Styx?"


    Grim shrugged and explained, "Fedain love differently than humans do, and perhaps it gives us more insight. We can fall in love with a person the instant we lay eyes on them, as if we sense something in their soul that tells us we''re meant to be together."


    "Interesting," Maxthane replied thoughtfully. "I''ll have to think about that and come to you if I have any questions."


    "I think you have a lot more than that to think about," Grim said with patient finality. "Is there anything else I can answer for you before you leave?"


    "No, you''re right. I need to think about all of this," Maxthane agreed with a nod. "Would you mind if I visit you again?"


    "Not to point it out or anything," Grim replied with a quiet chuckle as he shook the shackle that held him bound to the door, "but I''m not exactly going anywhere."


    "We''ll see, Grim," Maxthane whispered, "We''ll see."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 14: The Shade in the City

    Kirra was careful to avoid drawing attention to himself as he walked down the busy street. The entire operation hinged on keeping a low profile, and bolting down the street wouldn''t do at all, even if his news was urgent. Instead he kept his pace quick and pulled the cloak tight around him, giving the appearance that he was merely seeking a quick escape from the cold wind that swept through Pentalus.


    He continued the ruse all the way to the top of the steps that led to Mister Swallow''s office. They had commandeered the space to serve as their headquarters for their stakeout of Sabreeza''s guild hall. Mister Swallow had been happy to serve, but he wasted no time in making it clear that he would have preferred a bit more notice than Lady Alsha had given him. They had arrived that morning with everything ready to go, and had Mister Swallow out the door within minutes. A short time later the soldiers left as well, heading for the locations that Alsha had worked out for them, to watch the guildhall.


    Alsha was standing over the desk, carefully reading the observations that had been reported to her so far, when Kirra entered the room. Even though her soldiers would have made note of anything that stood out to them, it was her duty to follow up on their findings, and each sheet of paper might have the information she was looking for.


    "How was the tavern?" Alsha asked without looking away from her notes. "Are the boys holding up?"


    "They''re doing fine. The men at the stables and the women on the seamstress''s rooftop are also doing well," Kirra reported with a salute, though he dropped it quickly when he realized that Alsha wasn''t about to look up and return it. "It''s been a long morning for everyone though. I''ve heard a few grumbles that we''re wasting our time doing it this way."


    "This is the protocol we are supposed to follow. You can tell them that those are my words if you hear any more complaints," Lady Alsha replied with a dismissive wave, as if the grumbling of her soldiers was of no consequence. Kirra nodded and turned to leave, but before he could step out the door Alsha looked up, her demeanor becoming more serious. "This mission is important," she reminded him, "We need to find evidence that Sabreeza is harboring a demon."


    "That isn''t what you told everyone else," Kirra replied dryly, "You told them that we were looking for signs of ''suspicious activity''."


    "As you know, the sanctioned purpose of this mission is to find evidence of Huzain Sabreeza oppressing the merchants in his district. That''s why it''s up to you to help me sort through the information the lookouts give me," Alsha explained with a tight smile, "We''re the only two people here who know of our, more important, mission."


    "I see," Kirra replied thoughtfully then asked hesitantly, "Don''t you trust the others?"


    "Kirra . . ." Alsha began angrily, riled by the accusation, but then she took a breath and exhaled slowly before continuing in a calmer voice, "yes I do, or I wouldn''t have brought them here. But that doesn''t mean they won''t let it slip to the wrong person that I''m here hunting demons. If the council were to hear that I was pursuing that angle, we''d be pulled off this investigation instantly. The fewer people that know that, the better."


    "Commander!"


    They turned together as the door burst open quickly, and the large form of Judin Marro stepped into the room, breathing heavily. He looked as if he had run there, and the look in Alsha''s eyes said that he had better have a good reason for being so reckless.


    Despite the daggers in her eyes Alsha asked calmly, "What is it?"


    "We found something, something we think is big," Judin replied between breaths. "It''s better if we explain when we get there."


    "Lead the way," Alsha replied, dropping her papers to the desk.


    Kirra and Alsha followed Judin down the steps and back onto the street. It looked like Judin might run again until he saw that Alsha had no intention of following at any pace other than a quick walk. She maintained her composure as Judin led them to the Forgotten Crow; the place Kirra had just returned from. They had chosen this establishment simply because the proprietor already knew them, and had as much to lose if their investigation failed as anyone did.


    The owner had proven to be surprisingly cooperative, and had even helped them in other ways. He had a signal in place to let the Knights know if one of Sabreeza''s men entered the tavern or even walked by the window. The tactic had helped that post gain intelligence on the guild far faster than the others.


    Judin led them straight up the stairs to the second floor. Once they were out of the dining hall he explained, "We found him sleeping on the rooftop when Fenri went up to take a look at the guildhall from a different angle. He almost got away before I made it up there to assist."


    "Found who?" Lady Alsha asked patiently.


    "A Shade," Judin replied as he opened the door that would take them to the roof. Lady Alsha nodded as if the explanation had been expected, and moved past Judin to take the lead. Judin waited for Kirra to step up after her and then took up the rear.


    Before they had even reached the top of the stairs they could hear the argument.


    "Let me go, dammit," a youthful voice demanded. "Whatever you think I''ve done, I haven''t."


    "I told you, we have to wait until my boss comes," an annoyed Fenri replied. "She''ll make that decision. I can''t."


    "Thanks, Fenri," Lady Alsha said as she stepped onto the roof, drawing the attention of her soldier and his prisoner. "I''ll take it from here."


    Kirra had never knowingly seen a Shade before, though from what he was seeing he couldn''t be certain anymore. From his perspective the youth looked like little more than a beggar, albeit a particularly dirty one. Though the quality of his clothing was certainly fine, it had the look of months if not years of grime built into it. The leather armor the youth wore was of a design he had never seen, with large flaps of material extending from his arms to his sides, one of which was tattered. All of the other details paled as he looked at the youth''s face, for despite the dirt Kirra could not deny that the youth was the most attractive boy he had ever seen.


    Styx sat shackled to a laundry pole with Fenri holding his straight blade near his neck, watching him closely. It was clear to Kirra that the prisoner found the situation uncomfortable, but there was a look of challenge in his eyes as he regarded Lady Alsha.


    "Finally," Styx said indignantly. "Why am I being held? I was just sleeping when this jackass here came and shackled me to this pole. I don''t exactly like being restrained."


    "You do know where you are, don''t you?" Alsha asked with a raised eyebrow.


    "Pentalus?" Styx replied sarcastically. "A rooftop? What kind of deep answer are you looking for, woman?"


    "What business does a Shade have in Pentalus?" Lady Alsha asked, ignoring the insult. "You''re sleeping for free on the rooftop of a building that charges ten copper a night. I don''t think the proprietor would be very fond of that piece of information."


    "Hah, as if you would tell him," Styx replied smugly. "You don''t want to make a scene out of this any more than I do. If you did, you wouldn''t be keeping your voice as low as you are. Now why don''t we do some negotiating; you want information, I want freedom."


    "Listen, punk," Fenri said with a scowl as he pressed his sword against Styx''s throat, "We could kill you now and no one would be the wiser."


    "Let him go," Kirra said suddenly, surprising everyone including himself.


    "Excuse me?" Fenri asked, looking at Kirra in surprise.


    "Let him go, I don''t think he''s going to run," Kirra replied, his confidence growing. "Where would he go? Look how he''s squinting in the light. He can hardly see two feet in front of him right now I''d bet. We''d catch him easily if he made a break for it. There''s no reason to keep him chained like that."


    Lady Alsha barely contained her smile as she nodded and said, "Do as Kirra says."


    "Thank you," Styx said with a nod, looking first at Alsha but then directed his attention to Kirra and asked, "Kirra was it?"


    Kirra nodded and watched Styx silently mouth his name again. The way his name had rolled off Styx''s tongue stirred something inside of him. He watched with growing curiosity as the shackles were removed and wrists that had been too long without freedom were rubbed to regain their feeling.


    "I think you''ll find me much more cooperative now," Styx said with a nod. But then he inclined his head toward Fenri and growled, "Just keep that one away from me."


    "Done." Lady Alsha waved her hand at the soldier who still had his sword at Styx''s throat and ordered, "Fenri, step away."


    Kirra sensed the movement before it occurred and was already charging toward Styx as he dashed to the edge of the rooftop. Styx took a quick step up to the ledge in preparation to launch himself toward the busy street below, only to be pulled back to the rooftop as Kirra tackled him. They landed in a heap, with Kirra rolling over on top of Styx and claiming the dominant position.


    "Ouch," Styx said as he regained his breath. He smirked up at Kirra and added, "You''re really quick."


    "And you''re exceptionally dirty," Kirra observed as he stared down at Styx. "Now, if you''d like to avoid being restrained again, would you mind not making a run for it again?" With a half-smile he went on, "You''re making me look bad."


    "I guess I don''t have a choice then," Styx replied, losing his smirk as he searched Kirra''s eyes. Kirra wasn''t sure what Styx was looking for, but it appeared that he found it and he stopped struggling. He let Kirra pull him to his feet and they backed away from the edge of the roof. Though he didn''t think Styx would run again, he wanted to make sure he could catch him if he tried.


    The whole exchange had had a different effect on the other three soldiers. Judin looked confused, Fenri looked angry, and Lady Alsha showed nothing more than amusement. "Good, now that we''ve squared that away," Alsha said with a smile, regarding Styx with twinkling eyes, "Would you mind answering my question? What business does a Shade have in Pentalus?"


    "If you must know," Styx replied with a sigh, "I''ve recently escaped from the Shade. I don''t have any particular business up here."


    "You are not involved with Sabreeza?" Alsha asked neutrally.


    "Wouldn''t you know if I was?" Styx returned with a raised eyebrow. "You''re working for him aren''t you?"


    "No," Alsha answered, eyes widening slightly in surprise. "What makes you think that?"


    "You accused me of freeloading," Styx explained with a shrug. "Some men I met yesterday accused me of being a beggar and said I needed to get out of Sabreeza''s territory. I figured it was more of the same."


    "No, we''re not working for Sabreeza," Alsha confirmed.


    "Then why did you ask about him?"


    "That''s none of your concern."


    "Oh? From your expression I''d say you don''t care for Sabreeza. I don''t either," Styx admitted with a grimace. "Perhaps we can be of use to each other."


    "We''re back to negotiating again, are we?" Alsha stated more than asked. "Okay, what do you know?"


    "Well, perhaps you should tell me what you''re looking for," Styx suggested, unwilling to give ground in the conversation just yet. "Then I''ll be able to tell you what will help you, but you have to promise to help me."


    "Promise to help you?" Lady Alsha echoed. "What do you need help with?"


    Styx shook his head helplessly. "It appears we''ve reached an impasse in this negotiation," he said with a grin. "One of us has to break first."


    "We''re the ones with weapons," Alsha reminded him with a patient smile.


    "You''ve got me there," Styx conceded with a shrug. "Okay, I''ll give. I''ve got a friend who''s been taken prisoner by Sabreeza. I need help busting him out. There''s no way I can do it on my own."


    "A prisoner? Another shade?"


    "No. He''s . . ." Styx hesitated as he decided how much information to give them. "He''s an outlander. He''s sick and injured, and I don''t think he''ll survive for long under their hospitality."


    "Okay, I will consider helping you," Alsha replied with a nod, "but we can''t just barge in there."


    "So what are you looking for then? Maybe I can give you the information you need," Styx suggested.


    "We are looking into Sabreeza''s activities," Alsha replied, "He has been oppress¡ª"


    "We''re hunting a demon that was freed recently," Kirra interrupted his commander, drawing a bewildered look from Judin and Fenri. "We believe Sabreeza to be involved."


    "Kirra!" Alsha growled with a murderous glare. Kirra shrugged apologetically at her but then looked back to Styx. Something about Styx had told Kirra that he could be trusted, and that had been enough for him to risk addressing the issue head on.


    "A demon," Styx echoed. "Now that''s interesting. I wouldn''t be surprised if Sabreeza''s involved." Nodding slowly he confirmed, "A demon was freed recently."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Wait, you know about this?" Lady Alsha asked, turning a surprised glance his way. "I thought you weren''t involved."


    "I was far more involved with that demon than I would ever wish to be again," Styx replied dryly. "But that is a story for another time. I can guarantee you a demon was freed though."


    "Can you believe this nonsense?" Fenri said suddenly, looking to his fellow soldiers for support. He turned back to Styx angrily and started to ask, "What are you¡ª"


    "Yes," Alsha replied quickly, cutting him off. "That was the real reason I pushed for this assignment. Kirra and I found out yesterday."


    "If you believe it, then you must have a good reason. I apologize for my outburst, Lady Alsha," Fenri said with a bow, though his apology didn''t completely clear the suspicious glare from his eyes.


    "It''s all right. I was initially suspicious of the claim as well, but I''ve been otherwise convinced," Alsha explained with a tight smile. "This boy here only confirms the facts I already knew."


    "What''s your name?" Kirra asked quietly while Alsha was addressing Fenri''s concerns.


    "What''s it to you?" Styx replied with suspicion.


    "You already know mine," Kirra replied with a shrug. "I figure that you owe me."


    With a shrug Styx said, "My name is Styx. Now we''re even."


    Alsha heard Styx speak again and returned her attention to him. "Do you know anything else about what''s going on?" She asked calmly.


    "Salidar''s planning on freeing as many demons as he can and setting them loose on the city," Styx explained quickly. "He''s making a move on the Everbright City."


    "Salidar? The current Underking?" Alsha asked. When Styx nodded she slowly mimicked the action and said, "So that means the Shades weren''t working for Sabreeza, it was the other way around."


    "Lady Alsha, what are our orders?" Judin asked after silence overtook the rooftop. She looked to him thoughtfully as she puzzled through the new information. If Salidar were making such a move then they needed to find out more, but what she didn''t know was if it was worth the risk of trusting a Shade.


    Kirra appeared to think so as he suggested. "We should break in and free the prisoner. It shouldn''t be that hard to find the information we''re looking for along the way."


    "But what if we don''t, Kirra?" Alsha replied with concern. "Do you think the council will take the word of a Shade when they didn''t take mine?"


    "Do we have a choice?" Kirra retorted. "We know that he''s telling the truth, or at least that the information he has is in line with what we already know. If Sabreeza is working for Salidar, and the Underking intends to lead another assault on the Everbright City, can we afford not to try to stop him?"


    "No, we need to do something," Alsha agreed with a nod. "Run and get everyone else. We''ll make an assault by the end of the day."


    Kirra nodded and left the roof. Styx watched him leave, his eyes subconsciously drawn to Kirra''s back until it was gone. When he noticed that Alsha was grinning at him he turned to her with an embarrassed smile and said, "Thank you. Honestly I thought I was going to have to figure something out on my own. Who are you anyway?"


    "The Knights of the Firmament," Lady Alsha replied smoothly, the amusement of her smile reaching her eyes and causing them to twinkle.


    "Great," Styx replied sarcastically.


    It didn''t take long for Kirra to bring the others to the rooftop, and for Alsha to explain the full situation. They immediately began to plan for their assault. Several ideas were proposed, ranging from attempting to sneak in through a window to returning to the Everbright City for reinforcements. It wasn''t until Styx chose to offer his suggestion that they were able to formulate a plan that they could all get behind.


    Kirra was pleased to see that the other soldiers were willing to listen to Styx''s input regardless of him being a Shade. Even Fenri was nodding as Styx made his suggestion, forgetting his original suspicion. Within a few hours the plan was finalized down to the final detail. Once nightfall came, the group made their move and approached the guildhall.


    ~ ~ ~ ~


    "Can I help you?" The guard asked, as he opened the door a crack to see who was there. Styx was standing in the shadows a few feet back from where he had originally knocked, making it harder for him to be made out. As Styx noticed that the guard was squinting to make him out, he took a step closer so that the lamp-light from the corridor behind the guard lit up his face and revealed him as a Shade.


    Styx regarded the guard with contempt, making every effort to seem intimidating. "I was sent by Salidar," he explained without preamble. "I have instructions for Sabreeza."


    "You were supposed to come by the north door," the guard reprimanded, glancing around nervously. He opened the door wide and gestured for Styx to come through. "Quickly, get inside."


    "Oh, don''t mind if we do." Kobek stepped through the door first and slammed the guard into the wall. Fenri and Kirra moved through immediately after and placed their drawn blades against the guard''s neck, daring him to move. The rest of the soldiers filed in with Lady Alsha bringing up the rear immediately after Styx.


    "What!?" The guard cried in a mixture of surprise and anger, "What is this outrage?"


    "Where is the prisoner?" Styx asked quickly. Waiting until nightfall had been arduous enough, and his patience was already gone. Something told him that if they didn''t get to Prism quickly then they might not reach him alive.


    "What prisoner?"


    "Don''t test me!" Styx growled, drawing the knife he had been lent by one of the other soldiers and letting it join the other blades against the guard''s throat. Unlike the other blades that rested there, Styx pressed the blade in enough to draw blood, showing he was serious.


    "Two floors up," the guard replied. To his credit he showed little fear as he said, "You''ll never make it out alive. We have people watching this building. You can''t beat them all."


    "We don''t have to," Kobek said, baring his teeth in a sneer, "We just have to beat enough."


    "Where is Sabreeza?" Kirra asked, drawing a defiant glare from the guard. When he didn''t answer, Kirra pushed his own blade in farther and asked, "Do you need a reminder?"


    "He''s in the basement."


    "Kirra, you and Kobek go with Styx," Alsha ordered, "The rest of us are going after Sabreeza."


    "What about this one?" Fenri asked, nodding toward the guard. In answer, Kobek slammed the guard into the wall again, and then punched the man in the face with his gauntleted fist, dropping him to the floor, unconscious.


    "That''ll do, I suppose," Fenri said with a wry expression.


    Kobek led the way further into the building with Kirra following behind and Styx bringing up the rear. It wasn''t long before they reached a set of stairs that took them up, and found themselves at the end of a long hallway with offices on either side.


    Kobek waved for them to remain silent as they continued forward. As they neared the end of the corridor, they heard voices coming from the other side of one of the doors. Having the best hearing of the three, Kirra placed his ear against the door to listen more closely.


    "So I told her that she better start putting out, or I was going to kill her mother," one man said with a laugh. "She wasn''t the best I''ve ever had, but let me tell you, man, it sure was what I needed!"


    "Man, I need to get myself a girl!" a second man replied wistfully. "How do you find ''em?"


    "Just look for a merchant that hasn''t paid his dues," the first man explained, "and tell him you''ll forgive his debts if he sells you his daughter."


    "Does Huzi allow that?" The second man asked in wonder.


    "No, but the merchant ain''t gonna know that at the time!" The first man replied with another laugh. Kirra raised two fingers to indicate that there were at least two people in the room, and then reached for the door handle. Kobek stepped into position to charge into the room and Styx readied his knife. On a silent count of three, Kirra opened the door, and the corridor was suddenly bathed in bright light.


    Kobek charged inside, and Styx tried to follow but his eyes were slow to adjust to the change in illumination. He stumbled into the room and tripped up Kirra, sending them both to the floor. Kobek remained oblivious to the plight of his companions and went straight for one of the two guards standing in front of the cell door set in the corner of the room. Prism lay on a cot within the cell and he did not look well. Not only was he unconscious, but he also had numerous wounds he hadn''t had the last time Styx saw him, the clear signs of torture.


    "Open the door," Kobek demanded as he leveled his sword at the man on the left. Both of the guards regarded him with surprise, putting their own weapons between them and the large soldier. The one on the left held a metal-hafted spear, while the one on the right carried a straight sword of medium length. Both held their weapons the way a competent warrior would, though neither looked as if he would be a match for Kobek.


    "Who the hell are you?" The guard on the right asked, and Styx instantly recognized the voice. It was one of the thugs who had accosted him in the alleyway before. There wasn''t a trace of fear in his voice, as if he knew that Kobek didn''t stand a chance of harming him.


    "The man who''s going to kill you if you don''t open the door," Kobek replied with a snarl, calling the bluff of the man''s bravado.


    "Hah! You don''t know who you''re messing with!" The man replied with a cocky sneer. Before Kirra and Styx could regain their footing, a third man rushed out of the shadows behind the door, his large axe raised above his head. He hacked down with it as he reached Kobek, striking the large man hard across his back. The force of the blow was hard enough to cleave straight through Kobek''s armor, and both Kirra and Styx could hear the sickening crack of the soldier''s bones breaking underneath.


    Before the axeman could turn to face them Kirra rose quicker than Styx imagined possible and leapt to the Kobek''s rescue. He went straight for a killing blow, cutting into the axe wielder''s neck. The keen edge of Kirra''s blade was made apparent as the axe-wielder''s head was cut cleanly from his shoulders, dropping to the floor with a sickening thud as Kobek collapsed beside it.


    The two remaining guards watched their companion fall in horror but regained their composure in time to meet Kirra''s barrage of attacks against them. Kirra wasted no time in giving them what they expected and attacked them with enough ferocity to keep them fully on the defensive.


    Kirra attacked like a man possessed, and each successive swing seemed to come faster than the one before it. As Styx rose to his feet he watched in amazement as one strike flowed into another, a deadly dance of metal that threatened at any given moment to end the life of either of the men Kirra fought.


    Styx jumped to his feet and rushed to assist Kirra. The opportunity presented itself when Kirra managed to shear off the head of the spear. The warrior stared at the broken weapon in disbelief and Styx stabbed forward with his knife, ramming his blade into the guard''s chest to the hilt.


    The other guard took a stab at the now unarmed Styx, only to find Kirra waiting for the strike. With a quick series of slashes he first sheared off the guard''s arm at the elbow, and then cut into his chest with two wide cuts. The guard fell to the floor, screaming in agony.


    As soon as he was sure that neither man was going to move again, Kirra looked back at Kobek and crouched down to examine his wounds, only to find his worst fears confirmed. The strike from the axe had severed his spine and had killed the large man instantly. As Kirra continued to survey the grim wound, Styx crouched to retrieve a large ring of keys from the spear guard''s belt and began searching for the right key to unlock the cell door.


    Kirra yelled in alarm as he pushed Styx roughly to the side. Styx stumbled into the corner of the room and fell as a kris blade stabbed forward where he had been crouching. The axe-wielder''s headless body rose from the floor, kris held in one hand as he picked up his head with the other and set it back on his shoulders. The head reattached itself to the man''s neck as he looked at Styx and sneered.


    "I thought you might attempt a rescue," the man said as his face shimmered and changed, becoming the image of a person that Styx had thought long dead, no matter how many times Prism had told him otherwise.


    "Fasha," Styx whispered, horrified. "How . . .?"


    He didn''t get an answer, and instead Fasha moved toward him again, his kris blade leading. Kirra met him halfway, his sword cutting into Fasha''s stomach. Fasha stumbled forward but continued his thrust at Styx''s face, but his change of momentum from Kirra''s attack gave Styx the time he needed to move out of the way.


    Fasha seemed unaffected by the large gash in his side, and when Styx tried to roll past him he shifted his feet and planted one squarely on Styx''s side and pushed him up against the wall. Fasha ignored Kirra completely as he prepared to stab forward with his knife, only to find that his hand was no longer attached to his wrist.


    Before the kris had even hit the ground, it flew to Fasha''s other hand, which stabbed down at Styx''s neck. Styx leaned to the side as the kris moved in and the waved blade penetrated the wooden wall next to him. Before Fasha could retrieve the kris from the wood, Kirra had sheared off his other hand at the wrist, and then hacked at Fasha''s thigh, severing the leg that was holding Styx against the wall.


    Styx pulled away as Fasha collapsed to the floor, turning an annoyed eye on Kirra. "Fine, if you''re so insistent then I''ll kill you first," Fasha growled as he attached his severed wrist to the hand that still gripped the knife in the wall and the limb reattached itself. He quickly withdrew the blade even as Kirra slashed him across the chest and drove him back into the wall.


    "What kind of monster are you!?" Kirra screamed as he pulled back and caught his breath.


    "Let''s see, your people called me a Vhor," Fasha said with a sneer as he crouched down and reattached his thigh. "I''m getting tired of this game. How many times are you going to cut off my limbs before you tire out?"


    "Styx, get your friend out of here," Kirra said neutrally. Styx opened his mouth to protest but Kirra had expected it and he shouted, "Now! Get out of here now!"


    "Ah . . . You''re the martyr type," Fasha said with a chuckle. "My favorite kind to kill." He lunged forward as Kirra met him with his sword. They clashed together as Styx turned his attention back to getting the cell open.


    Styx managed to find the right key and then rushed to the man lying on the cot, shaking him gently. Prism''s skin was warm and sweaty, and the only response he received was a light groan. He put his arm under Prism''s and struggled to lift him up. After draping Prism''s arm around his shoulder, he dragged Prism from the cell, but then paused to look at Kirra and Fasha before continuing to the door.


    Fasha was a pile of limbs and chunks of flesh, though his eyes were still staring at Kirra, and his mouth still held the same evil sneer. Kirra kicked him in the face and then glanced once more toward Kobek''s corpse before moving over to assist Styx. Together they were able to move much faster and moved into the hallway.


    "He''s burning up," Styx explained between heavy breaths. "We have to get him to a Fedain as soon as possible."


    "A Fedain?" Kirra asked with a raised eyebrow. "Do you know any nearby? I sure don''t."


    "There has to be one somewhere," Styx replied in desperation.


    "They tend to avoid Pentalus," Kirra said with a shake of his head. "Too many people force them to heal against their will."


    "I know of one," Lady Alsha said as she appeared at the end of the hall. "I don''t know if we can persuade her to heal him, but we got what we came for." As Kirra and Styx looked past her they saw a man being escorted by the rest of the soldiers. Styx recognized him as the same merchant who had been visiting the drop point where he first became involved in this mess. "I''ll do what I can to help your friend, even if it means calling on the last favors I have left."


    "You can''t mean . . ." Kirra began in disbelief.


    "Yes. The Oracle," Alsha answered with a nod. "But first we have to get him out of here. Where''s Kobek?"


    Kirra looked back down the hallway toward the room and said, "He''s dead. He was killed by . . ." He stopped as Fasha stepped through the doorway of the room and grinned at him wickedly. "No time to explain. Help Styx and run!" He shifted Prism back to Styx and then ran back toward Fasha.


    One of the female knights stepped up to assist Styx as Alsha dashed past them to assist Kirra. "Get out! We''ll follow as soon as we can!" She ordered, and though Styx looked back worriedly to see her engage Fasha, he was led on as the knight assisting him began carrying Prism forward. He fell in step beside them and kept moving, glancing back until Alsha and Kirra were out of sight.


    They continued until they reached the outer door of the guildhall, and the Knights stepped outside and found a crowd of people waiting for them, many of who were holding torches that broke the cover of darkness they had hoped to slip out under.


    "Heya, what''s this?" Fenri called out to the crowd, and a man stepped forward. He had dirty blonde hair and was carrying a makeshift club, and he gestured to where a number of men were being held by the crowd. Two were thugs that Styx recognized from the alleyway where Prism had been taken.


    "You have Sabreeza?" the blonde man asked, then glanced at the prisoner held by the Knights. "Are you Knights?"


    "Yes," Fenri answered cautiously. "Let us through so that we can bring this man to justice."


    "Mister Kimbler," Alsha''s voice said from behind them. Styx turned to see her and Kirra coming out through the doorway. "Please, let us take him with us."


    "So, it was you. The Knights actually did something," the blonde man replied. "Let them go and take the others with them . . ." he began, but then one of Sabreeza''s thugs screamed as a knife took him in the chest. More knives followed, taking the other thugs in vital areas until Sabreeza himself grunted and fell forward between the Knights holding him, a knife protruding from the back of his skull.


    Fasha jumped through the second story window from which he had thrown the knives, and each of the knives he had thrown were drawn back toward him by some supernatural force. He dashed across the cobblestones, heading straight for Prism and Styx. Kirra stepped in the way, shaking his head at Fasha as he raised his sword and prepared to defend them.


    "Give me a torch!" Kirra shouted, and when no one responded, Fenri ran to the crowd and retrieved one before tossing it to Kirra who caught it out of the air.


    Fasha eyed the torch and slowed his approach, then glanced at Prism and Styx before turning on his heel and running the other direction. He ran straight into the crowd and before Kirra could call to let him through Fasha had already slit the throats of several of the peasants before moving past their corpses and disappearing into the night.


    "How did you know he was afraid of fire?" Styx asked when Kirra turned back toward them. Kirra shrugged as he stroked the hilt of his sword and then sheathed it at his side.


    "Let''s just say I heard it from someone who knew what he was," he said with a frown before turning to Alsha. "Can we get out of here? This man needs help."


    Alsha nodded and turned back toward the blonde man. "Mister Kimbler, thank you for your assistance. I hope you''ll make yourself available for questioning."


    "Of course," the blonde man replied with a smirk, "I''m always happy to help the Knights."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 15: Defiance of the Prince

    Maxthane looked up as his father stepped into his room. He had been mulling over his situation the whole day, hoping that he would have longer to decide how he would proceed, but the look on his father''s face told him that time had run out.


    "Get ready to go, Max. It''s time to move into the final phase of the plan," Salidar announced, confirming Maxthane''s fears. "Fasha has returned with news that Prism has escaped into the Everbright City and that Sabreeza''s guild has been compromised," he explained, expressionless. "We have to move now or we will miss our opportunity."


    "No," Maxthane answered firmly. He stood up straight and crossed his arms in defiance.


    "No?" Salidar echoed without emotion.


    "No," Maxthane repeated, searching his father''s eyes for anything that would indicate what his father was thinking. "I know you want me to be behind this plan, but I''m not. I can''t be a part of it. If you want to free the demons, do it yourself."


    "You''re not the only one who has studied the rituals, Max. You know that I don''t need you. Is this really your decision?"


    "I''m sorry, father. I know that you think this is the only way to get what you want, but, I can''t."


    "I don''t know what to say. I''d be lying if I didn''t say I was disappointed, but I think I understand," Salidar said with a sigh, surprising Maxthane by the admission. "You don''t think I can control them."


    "No. I don''t," Maxthane replied with a shake of his head. "This is wrong, and you know it."


    "The ends justify the means," Salidar replied with a shrug.


    "Not to me they don''t," Maxthane said. "Not in this case anyway. Someone told me recently that if you always see things that way then you end up without a soul."


    "Then perhaps I don''t have one," Salidar replied with a chuckle, though his face resumed its more serious posture as he went on, "This is the dream that our family has had for centuries. I''m so close to it that I can taste it, Max. We are so close to tearing down Neredos once and for all, and winning freedom for The Shade."


    "Or entombing us when the hungry demons come to devour us while we''re trapped down here," Maxthane said with a smirk.


    "I don''t have your same lack of faith in my ability to control them," Salidar replied with a scowl, but his expression returned to neutral as he continued, "We will start with only a few at first. We will only move forward when we are sure that everything is going according to plan."


    "I hope for the world''s sake that you''re right."


    "Max . . ." Salidar began as he met his son''s eyes. He seemed conflicted, though Maxthane knew it would be na?ve of him to think that the conflict had anything to do with reservations about setting the demons free. "I hope when this is over we can get past this," Salidar continued, "I''m willing to forgive your defiance, so long as you don''t stand in my way. This will all be done and over with quickly, and then you''ll see that everything worked out all right."


    "Father," Maxthane pleaded, "Don''t do this."


    "Goodbye, Max," Salidar replied, smiling sadly.


    Maxthane shook his head and looked away. He walked over to the window and stared out at the city spread before his view. All of the people living in The Shade were reliant upon Salidar''s strange sense of order, and Maxthane knew that Salidar was going through with the plan in large part for the future of his people, but that didn''t make it any better. He hoped that his father would either fail, or succeed beyond expectations. Otherwise the entire cavern would become a tomb.


    But that possibility was not enough to deter Salidar, and he regarded his son with a mixture of sadness and anger. He had hoped that Maxthane would come around, but in the end he had to move on, whether his son came with him or not. "Stay here, but join me if you change your mind," Salidar said as he walked back to the door. "I would rather have you standing at my side, but I will respect your decision."


    And then he was gone. Maxthane knew in his heart that it might be the last time that he ever saw his father. Salidar hadn''t felt the pull of the demon on the blood pact. He did not know how strong the demons were, and he wouldn''t know until one of them was killing him. Maxthane threw himself down on his bed and yelled at the ceiling in frustration. There was nothing he could do.


    Or maybe there was. He sat up as the thought occurred to him that there was still an angle to pursue that would allow him a chance to stop his father from bringing on the apocalypse. Even if he couldn''t persuade Salidar to listen, he knew more about the demons than almost anyone. The grimoire might have an answer, or at the very least it would help him protect the innocents whose lives would be lost should the demons be freed.


    He rolled off of his bed and knelt beside the locked cabinet next to it. With hands shaking in trepidation, he opened the door and withdrew the leather-bound manual. Even though the book was ancient it appeared it was enchanted to withstand the ravages of time. Despite its marvelous condition Maxthane handled each page tenderly, not wanting to risk harm coming to the book. Whoever had written it had intended that it be available for millennia, though the dialect of ancient Gor that it was written in was now spoken by very few, and read by even fewer.


    Searching through the pages took hours. Even though he had skimmed through the book several times he had only focused on the passages that were pertinent to his father''s designs. There was a great deal more to the book, including the history of the demon war itself, which he had never taken the time to read through. Now he pored over these sections, determined to find anything that would serve to help them defeat the demons.


    As Maxthane searched the history his eyes widened in surprise. One fact stood out above all others, and before he did anything else he had to obtain a confirmation. Tucking the tome gingerly under his arm, he stepped out of the room and quickly made his way to the dungeons.


    Dodging the guards proved to be easier than he had expected. It appeared that his father had already left for the surface, and had taken most of his men with him. There remained only the minimal numbers necessary to keep the complex protected, and those that had been left behind were not Salidar''s most skilled either. In a matter of minutes he stood before the iron door that barred him from speaking to the gladiators, with a single guard leaning against the wall beside it.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Maxthane remained out of sight, watching the guard closely. The guard appeared bored, as if he would rather be doing anything else. It was not the most desirable post in the complex, sitting alone amongst the cages of ferocious beasts, and the smell was less than pleasant.


    The smell. An idea struck Maxthane as he reached under his dhoti and activated the tattoo on his upper thigh. This particular design resembled a kind of poisonous flower, and had been infused with certain pheromones that were normally intoxicating to human males. His father had recommended the tattoo when he was young, saying the he would never know when it might come in handy to be able to seduce a man. He had never used it, but it seemed that in this case his father might be right.


    He waited until the pheromones permeated the room and the guard started sniffing, breathing them in. Maxthane took a deep breath and stepped into view, making sure to walk in a way that accentuated his figure. The guard took note of him immediately, and it wasn''t difficult to tell that he was aroused though the guard remained as composed as he could. Maxthane was the prince, and even if he seemed attractive at the moment there was no way the guard would risk Salidar''s wrath by doing anything to the boy.


    "Prince Maxthane. What can I do for you?" The guard asked nervously.


    As soon as Maxthane noticed the guard''s hesitation, he knew that he had to step up his game. He reached out with his hand to touch the guard''s face. The guard instinctively blocked the hand, but there was little energy in it. Now that Maxthane was in close proximity the pheromones were even more potent and increasing by the second. When Maxthane reached forward a second time there was no resistance at all, and the guard accepted Maxthane''s touch on his face with an involuntary shudder.


    Maxthane stroked the guard''s cheek with a seductive smile while the guard moaned in sensual bliss. "Now that my father''s gone," Maxthane cooed, leaning forward as if he were going to kiss the man, "We can finally be together."


    He didn''t even know the guard''s name or if there was any history of him having a thing for men, but it seemed to be working. The guard reached forward tentatively and placed his hands on Maxthane''s shoulders. Unable to contain himself, he rubbed Maxthane''s bare skin, lost in the sensation of the smooth, toned flesh. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply, sucking in even more of the potent aroma.


    It was time to end the charade. With as much force as he could manage, he kneed the guard in the groin. The guard doubled over in agony, his arousal only amplifying the pain. Maxthane stepped to the side and let the man fall to the floor with tears streaming down his face. Knowing that he had to incapacitate the guard completely if he wanted to proceed unmolested, Maxthane removed the pair of shackles that hung from the guard''s belt and pulled his hands behind his back. He dragged the crying man to the nearest empty cage and shackled him to the bars and only then did he reach down and deactivate the tattoo. He mouthed an apology to the guard and then stepped away.


    He returned to the door and removed the locking bars before flinging it open, only to be greeted by the surprised look of several gladiators. Before they could question what was going on Maxthane asked for Grim. The gladiators roused Grim from his slumber, and the Fedain rose from his position against the wall and moved to greet Maxthane with a smile. Maxthane beckoned him outside and then closed the door again.


    "Maxthane," Grim said in a pleasant tone, though his face showed confusion as he asked, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"


    "You were there, weren''t you?" Maxthane accused.


    "I''m afraid you''re going to have to give me more to go on than that," Grim said with a chuckle.


    "You fought in the Demon War," Maxthane clarified, "alongside Prism."


    "What an interesting thought," Grim replied with incredulity. "Where in the world did you get that idea?"


    "I read about you, in here," Maxthane explained, showing Grim the book. "You''re one of the most powerful demon slayers of all time if not the most powerful one. It''s no wonder that you killed that demon so easily."


    "Where did you get that book?" Grim whispered with wide eyes.


    "My father procured it in the Braeg," Maxthane answered simply. He didn''t know much more than that himself, but Salidar had told him that it had been found in a small mountainous country. "The ritual we used to free the demon came from here. I was reading through the history when I came across your name alongside Prism''s."


    "So you do know the truth," Grim mused. With a sad smile and a helpless shake of his head he went on, "I suppose there is no sense in denying it. What do you want of me then?"


    "I''m here to free you, Grim," Maxthane explained with a determined nod. "You and everyone else."


    "By all means then. Lead the way."


    "Before we leave, I have one more question."


    "Please, ask away."


    "Would you be able to defeat the demons should they be released again?" Maxthane asked with hope in his eyes. "I have in here the ritual that was used to seal them in the first place, but I don''t know if that will be good enough."


    "That''s a tough question," Grim replied as he whistled through his teeth. "All I can say is that I will do everything in my power to assist. Prism should already be on his way to Neredos, and the King should also be able to lend his assistance." With an encouraging smile he added, "If anyone will know how to defeat the demons after they are freed, it will be him."


    "That''s all I needed to hear," Maxthane replied with a grin.


    "What is your plan now?"


    "With my father''s forces otherwise occupied, we should be able to reach the surface without too much trouble," Maxthane explained with a shrug. Gesturing to the guard shackled to the cage he added, "He has already been incapacitated, but I don''t know where to go from this point."


    Grim smiled as he looked at the guard who seemed to still be regaining his senses. "Let''s get out of here," he said as he opened the door to the gladiators'' cell. All of them were now awake, and looked to the Fedain expectantly. Grim waved them forward, and they moved as one, not needing any other cue. One of the gladiators moved to the shackled guard and forcefully removed his weapon belt, then proceeded to put it on.


    Little more was spoken as Maxthane led them out of the complex. Occasionally he would stop and indicate that a guard should be waiting ahead of them. He would then step out and distract the guard, only to have the gladiators come up after and incapacitate them and take their weapons.


    The only problem in the escape arose when they reached the bridge, and met the Elroks still standing stoically at attention. Their attention was on the bridge itself, and they paid no heed to the complex behind them, but that didn''t mean they would be easy to bypass. The Elroks listened exclusively to Salidar, and Maxthane''s orders would carry no weight with them; he didn''t even speak their language.


    But he didn''t have to. While Maxthane and the gladiators deliberated about how to get past the Elroks, Grim was already on the move toward them. The Elroks turned around and growled, drawing the group''s attention to Grim''s actions. Maxthane was about to call out to Grim in alarm, but then realized that he would give away the position of the group if he did so. Instead he would be forced to watch as Grim made yet another sacrifice for his cause.


    What happened instead shocked everyone who observed it. The Elroks brandished their weapons as they prepared to kill the small man who stood before them, but then Grim began to speak in their language. He spoke the guttural tongue with proficiency and the Elroks stepped back in surprise, eyeing one another before returning a respectful eye toward the Fedain.


    Grim then pulled down on the collar of his shirt, showing them his chest. Whatever he revealed to them it caused the Elroks to bow in respect and lower their weapons. The Fedain turned back to where the gladiators stood, hidden by the wall, and waved them forward. The Elroks watched silently as the group moved past them, warily walking onto the bridge and away from the complex until only Maxthane and Grim remained on the complex''s side of the chasm.


    Grim said a few more words and then bowed formally. He waited until the Elroks mimicked the action before gesturing for Maxthane to go ahead of him on the bridge. Maxthane nodded in his astonishment and hurried across, with the Fedain close behind.


    When they reached the other side, Maxthane was about to ask what Grim had done, when they realized that the entire group had stopped ahead of them. They were talking quietly but excitedly with someone who stood amongst them. Sharing a look of curiosity, Maxthane and Grim walked forward until the man noticed their approach and took a step toward them.


    "Grim, Prince Maxthane. Might I have a word with you?"


    "Dogo?" They replied in unison, showing equal amounts of surprise.


    "Please, come to Madame Godani''s guild hall," Dogo said with a grin. "We have much to discuss."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 16: Removing the Dirt

    She was the perfect image of ageless beauty. Her hair and clothing were simple, but immaculately clean. The thin silver band that held her hair back from her face shone with an unnatural brilliance, as if brighter than it should, in order to earn its place upon her brow. Her skin sparkled like a bed of diamonds, and as she placed her hands upon the wounded side of the man lying before her the light seemed to follow her, catching every last sparkle as it danced upon her flesh.


    The man who lay upon the altar before her began to convulse as she worked her art. Every second that passed was an eternity for those who stood by, holding their breath as they looked on in wonder, not knowing if the man would survive the process. The spectators exhaled as one when she finally took her hands away, and only when she spoke did they realize that she had been successful. "Prism, dear Prism, you''re always on the brink of death," she whispered sweetly. "When will you learn that death doesn''t want you?"


    "Veil," Prism replied, without opening his eyes, smiling pleasantly at the woman above him. "I have not heard your lovely voice in far too long."


    "I imagine it has been far longer for me than it has for you. You were trapped in a pillar with a demon," Veil observed with a wry smile, "weren''t you?"


    "Yes, I was," Prism answered as he opened his eyes in surprise. "How did you know?"


    "I''ve not earned the title of Oracle without reason," she replied with a quiet chuckle. "I can still put patterns together. A pillar disappears and you suddenly reappear. I don''t believe that was a coincidence."


    "No, I suppose not," Prism conceded with a slight nod. Smiling more broadly than before, he added, "It is wonderful to see you."


    "We thought you had left with my brother to hunt the Vhor," she explained as she stroked his face gently. "But he told us that you had done nothing of the sort when we crossed paths later."


    "I''m sure he did," Prism confirmed. "The last I saw of him before yesterday was when we all met before the battle." His smile turned sad as he added, "He is still on the trail."


    "Then you have seen him more recently than I," Veil stated with her lips scrunched to one side. "How was he?"


    Prism sat up from the altar and shrugged. "Not as good as he could be, but better than he has been."


    "To any other person that wouldn''t make any sense," Veil replied, laughing openly.


    "I suppose I know you too well, Veil," Prism replied with a grin. Then to the shock of everyone in the room, he embraced her. Though she was initially caught off guard by the action, she returned the embrace after a moment and hugged him tightly.


    One of Veil''s guards drew his sword and took an outraged step toward Prism. "How dare you treat the Oracle like . . .?" He began, but was halted in his words and his movement by an upraised hand from Veil.


    "There''s no need for that. Prism is an old friend," she said firmly. With an air of supreme authority she chided, "If you had paid any attention to the history books, you would have known that Grandmaster Prism served with King Neredos and me during the Demon War. Without him we would have never succeeded."


    "I''m sorry, Oracle," the guard apologized, sheathing his weapon immediately. He bowed low and backed away as he said, "Please excuse my rudeness."


    "It is quite all right. Thank you for your concern," Veil said sweetly. When the guard bowed again she turned to Alsha, surprising the Knight by addressing her, "You are Lady Alsha Tremlain, a Commander of the Inquisitor branch of the Knights of the Firmament, correct?"


    "Indeed I am," Alsha replied quickly, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. While her father''s political connections had earned her the audience with the Oracle, she had not anticipated Veil to address her by name.


    "Your father was a great man, in a line of great men. I am pleased to see that the legacy has continued." Veil said as she rose to her feet and reached out to take Alsha''s hand in her own. Alsha blushed and nodded, but before she could humbly thank the Oracle for the compliment, Veil continued, "You did a great deed by bringing Prism to me, though I am surprised that you had the presence of mind to know he would need the help of a Fedain. We are not so commonplace anymore."


    "I''m afraid the credit does not belong to me," Alsha replied, "but to the boy who suggested we rescue Prism in the first place."


    "Ah, the Shade who I was told accompanied you to the city," Veil noted with a slow nod. "I understand that he has been held for questioning in regard to a plot by Salidar?"


    "Yes, Oracle," Alsha replied.


    "Please bring him here tomorrow. I would like to see him," Veil requested, drawing another surprised look from Alsha, though the commander knew better than to question the Oracle. Alsha nodded and Veil went on as she turned back to Prism. "Prism, I would have you accompany them as well. We have much to discuss, though I fear I must rest now." With another wry smile she added, "Healing such a virulent poison takes its toll."


    "I understand, dearest Veil," Prism said as he squeezed her hand, drawing another outraged look from the guards. He stood up then and moved to stand beside Alsha. "I must speak with Neredos anyway. There is no time to waste."


    "You may find that difficult, Prism. Our friend has been . . ." Veil paused as she searched for the words to explain her thoughts; something Prism had never seen. She found them at last and continued her sentence, "different, of late. I''m not convinced that he will see you."


    "Someone needs to tell him what has been going on," Prism replied firmly. "Salidar must be stopped."


    "Is he really so dangerous? None of the rebellions by the thulu''Khants have been successful in the past," Veil replied, with a dismissive gesture. "You have not been here, Prism. You have never seen the defenses this city employs. Speaking of which, the Knights will pass on your concerns." She patted his arm as she added, "You should take your well-earned rest, my friend."


    "I want to do my part to ensure we can withstand the assault," Prism replied with a frown.


    "As do I, my friend," Veil said noncommittally. She squeezed his arm as he turned away and said, "We will speak later."


    "As you wish, dear one," Prism replied, letting her go. He watched as she disappeared from the room with her guards in tow. Grim had told the truth about her; she had certainly changed. Even though she didn''t look a day older than she had when he had last spoken to her, the centuries had not been kind to her. It could have been the tiredness around her eyes, but it seemed as if something had taken a great toll on her soul.


    Though they had been of similar age when they had ventured to close the demon gate together, Prism''s friends now had a level of experience he would never match. But there was one man left whom he knew was still alive, and despite Veil''s warning that Neredos might not be willing to reminisce about old times he had to see for himself.


    "Lady Alsha," Prism asked as he turned toward the commander whose name he only knew from Veil''s use of it, "Would you mind escorting me to King Neredos?"


    "I''m afraid I do not have the authority to obtain an audience with the King," Lady Alsha replied, stunned by the request. Not wanting to disappoint a friend of the Oracle''s, she quickly offered, "but I can put you in touch with someone who can. We can meet Kirra and Styx at the Hall of Justice, and the Grand Inquisitors can hear your request."


    "I''m sure he''ll see me once he learns that I''m here," Prism replied with conviction. "Lead the way."


    ~ ~ ~ ~


    The Hall of Justice was no different at night than it was during the day. It was the command center of the Knights of the Firmament, and the Order was active at all times. The only thing that changed was who was on duty, and as Kirra watched the shift change he realized that Styx would most likely be released soon. The Grand Inquisitors whom Styx was meeting with were sure to want to go home to their beds.


    Confirming Kirra''s suspicions, it was less than fifteen minutes after the new shift started that the doors to the audience chamber opened and Styx stepped out. The three Inquisitors immediately followed him, and each one looked at Styx with contempt as they walked past him. Their looks did not improve as they passed by Kirra, despite his salute.


    "That was an experience I would rather not repeat," Styx mumbled once the Inquisitors were out of earshot. Styx looked at Kirra in alarm when he started laughing at the comment. He hadn''t thought he had been loud enough for Kirra to hear, but it seemed that Kirra''s hearing was better than average.


    "It went that badly, did it?" Kirra asked with a grin.


    "I hate to say it about your friends, Kirra," Styx replied, running his hand through his hair in relief, "but they''re more than a little full of themselves."


    "They are that!" Kirra agreed with another laugh, causing Styx to stare at him wide-mouthed at his brazen reply.


    "I''m glad that you agree," Styx said, shaking his head. "I''m told that you were informed that I am to be in your charge until they decide what to do with me. Apparently they aren''t keen on any of us ''Shades'' being out of our holes." With a roll of his eyes he added, "My presence unnerves them."


    "Well, you do need a bath," Kirra replied with a grin, and his eyes said that the comment was serious. Styx was about to reply when Kirra waved for him to follow as he began the short walk to the building''s entrance.


    "What is the obsession you surface dwellers have with bathing?" Styx replied indignantly as he caught up to Kirra.


    "No wonder you smell bad with that attitude," Kirra muttered as he looked Styx up and down. "How long has it been since you''ve bathed?" He asked as they stepped through the door and into the antechamber that led to the entrance hall.


    "I don''t smell . . ." Styx began angrily, but Kirra raised his hand as he interrupted him.


    "I''m going to stop you right there. You''re probably just used to it," Kirra said with a chuckle. "Come on, I''ll take you to the bathhouse and we can get you cleaned up. We''ll get you some clean clothes as well. You look as if you''ve been wearing those for months."


    "I have been," Styx replied, not seeing the point Kirra was trying to make. As they walked through the spacious entrance hall, Styx examined his clothing a little closer and realized that he had acquired a number of new tears recently, most notably the one in his gliding leather. "You''re right though, they have taken a beating lately," he conceded. "Very well, if you insist, I will go with you. After all, I''m in your charge now."


    "Where are you two off to?" Alsha asked as they entered the building at the same moment the two were about to leave. "I figured you would wait for us, especially as Styx was worrying about Prism."


    "Oh, well as soon as I knew that a Fedain would see him, I was certain he''d be all right," Styx replied smoothly, though in truth he had become distracted over the past few hours. "Especially when you mentioned it was the Oracle. I''ve heard she is the greatest healer in the world." He examined Prism with approval as he observed, "He certainly looks as if that reputation is well deserved."


    "I am feeling better, Styx," Prism confirmed with a mischievous grin. "Thank you for your concern. How did your meeting with the Inquisitors go?" He asked, moving to another subject. "I trust you''re not in a hurry to leave because you want to get away from them."


    "Certainly not. No, I could stay here all day," Styx replied with mock seriousness, but then he laid a hand on Kirra''s shoulder and said, "But Kirra here seems to think I really need a bath and new clothes."


    "I think it''s good to placate your host, and I can''t say I disagree with him," Prism replied with a firm nod. He smiled at Kirra who blushed for some reason Styx couldn''t understand. "We will see you afterward. Is there an appropriate meeting place where we can convene later?"


    "My office at the barracks should do nicely," Alsha offered, "It will be private for one thing, and it is a place that Kirra can get to without any additional clearance."


    "Very good," Prism nodded. He bowed his head and then added, "Styx, Kirra, we will see you there in a few hours."


    The boys nodded and watched as Alsha and Prism continued along the route toward the audience chambers. Once they were out of sight, Kirra led the way out of the building and down the street. Something seemed to be bothering Styx but Kirra remained silent, waiting for Styx to speak up when he was ready.


    He didn''t have to wait long. They had only been walking a few minutes when Styx said quietly, "I''m glad that he''s okay. I feel horrible that I forgot about him."


    "You really did?" Kirra asked with a raised eyebrow, "That''s fairly surprising."The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    "I had my reasons," Styx said with a blush. He kept his gaze away from Kirra, leaving him to wonder what he meant by the remark. Without any further explanation Styx looked back again and asked, "Anyway, what''s first, the clothes or the bath?"


    "Clothes first," Kirra replied after a moment of thought. "That way after the bath you can change into them immediately when we''re done, and not make you dirty again."


    "Is this going to be expensive? I don''t have any money, as you well know." Styx patted his empty pockets and belt pouches to establish the point.


    "I have you covered," Kirra answered with a smile. "Between my connections and my own funds, this should hardly make a dent in my assets."


    "Spoken like a noble," Styx replied with a roll of his eyes.


    "Not anymore. I am descended from a noble house, but the last few generations in my family have met with tragedy. My parents died when I was very young, leaving the family fortune in a trust, and me in the care of one of their friends. When I became an adult at fourteen the funds became mine, as did the few items left of my inheritance," Kirra explained as if his situation were the most normal thing in the world, "I don''t count as a noble anymore; there''s no longer a house to rule. That doesn''t mean I don''t retain some of the perks."


    "Well then, my aristocratic friend, lead on," Styx replied with a mocking bow, "I shall live off your generosity."


    "Hey, I didn''t mean it like that," Kirra replied, slightly put out by the gesture. "I wasn''t trying to sound arrogant."


    "It''s okay. I''m out of my depth here, Kirra," Styx admitted with an apologetic shrug, "I tend to only have two types of reactions to situations like this. I either become angry, or sarcastic. I''m afraid you have to deal with the latter, and it''s by far the more dangerous of the two."


    "I think I can handle it, now that I know what to expect," Kirra replied with a grin.


    To Kirra''s delight Styx grinned back, and with that the wall between them fell apart. They continued in friendly banter until they reached a tailor who Kirra knew kept later hours. The tailor greeted the knight pleasantly, and when he told her that he had brought her a new customer she was delighted, but when she found Styx standing in front of her with all of his dirt and grime she almost fainted. Only the generous amount of coin that Kirra shoved into her hands persuaded her to let them stay.


    A few measurements later, the tailor was able to provide a complete outfit for Styx from the clothing she already had on hand. Kirra asked about coming back for adjustments should they be necessary, and the woman looked at him in horror as she considered Styx returning to her store. When Kirra stated that they could stay around instead while the adjustments were made, she quickly agreed to his earlier suggestion and shooed them out of the shop, the outfit bagged and in Styx''s hands.


    "I don''t think the tailor liked me very much," Styx noted as he stared into the bag, "but these clothes do seem quite nice."


    "I think it was your smell that turned her off the most," Kirra said honestly, bringing them back to their earlier conversation. "Don''t worry," he said triumphantly, "we will soon remedy that problem. To the baths!"


    "You''re enjoying this a little too much, I think."


    "Come on," Kirra replied, ignoring the comment. He dragged Styx through the streets until they reached the spacious bathhouse. Steam escaped from multiple vents in the walls of the structure, and there was a large device above the roof that marked it as the bathhouse. With the Everbright City''s position above the clouds water was a precious commodity, and the only reason they had any at all were devices like this, which captured the water out of the air itself. The bathhouse had the largest of these devices in the entire city and it was connected to the main water plant, meaning that most of the water in the city was nearby at any given moment.


    "Through here," Kirra ordered, as he pulled Styx up the steps and through the beads that hung in place of a door. "Perhaps they''ll have a spare sack or something we can ditch your old clothes into after we get them off you."


    "We get them off?" Styx echoed nervously as they reached the front counter. "I wasn''t aware you would be joining me."


    "Someone has to make sure you wash your hair," Kirra replied quickly as he paid the woman at the counter for two lockers and asked for a sack. He thanked her as she provided him with one, and then led Styx by the arm to a door beside the counter from which steam emanated.


    "I don''t know about this," Styx said as they entered a room with rows of lockable cabinets. His eyes widened in surprise as he glanced around at the people in various stages of undress. "Wait, all these people are bathing together?"


    "Um, yeah. It''s a bathhouse," Kirra replied with a raised eyebrow, "It''s sort of what we do here."


    "I think this is a bad idea," Styx said as he started backing away.


    "Nuh-uh," Kirra replied as he pulled Styx back toward him. With a determined grin he added, "You''re going in. Take off that armor. Perhaps we can get that cleaned and repaired later."


    Styx sighed and complied, putting his leather gliding armor out on one of the benches in an untidy heap. Then he was down to his clothing that he wore underneath his armor. He hesitated and looked at Kirra in desperation. Before Styx even knew what was happening, Kirra drew a knife from his belt and began cutting the clothes from Styx''s body. Styx started to protest, only to have Kirra put the knife to his throat and warn him than if he kept up his struggling, he might cut something he wasn''t supposed to. Styx had never felt more vulnerable in his life and he didn''t like it at all, but for some reason he couldn''t bring himself to resist. Kirra had him completely under his spell, and only when he stood completely naked in front of him did he realize how far it had gone.


    Nodding in satisfaction, Kirra wiped his knife off on a nearby towel and then quickly undressed himself. Styx was too concerned with finding something to cover himself to notice Kirra''s naked body until he finally wrapped a towel around his waist. He had never been in a situation like this before, and even though he couldn''t help but admire the beauty of Kirra''s physical form, he was too nervous to do any more than hide behind the towel. He watched numbly as Kirra picked up his own clothes and locked them away in one of the cabinets, then taking the bag of new clothes that Styx had carried in and doing the same with them, adding Styx''s leather armor to the same locker before closing it up. Kirra then gingerly touched the dirty scraps of cloth that Styx had been wearing before and stuffed them in the sack before kicking them under a nearby bench.


    Kirra had no reservations at all, and once he grabbed a towel of his own¡ªwhich he slung over his shoulder¡ªhe grasped Styx''s hand again and began pulling him forward. Styx followed blindly until Kirra led him to a large pool that was full of bathers, both male and female. It was the strangest sight that Styx had ever seen, and to his horror Kirra pulled the towel away from his waist and then shoved him into the pool, causing a large splash as he hit the warm water.


    "See, this isn''t so bad," Kirra said as Styx came up spluttering. Kirra then slid into the water, and Styx hurried over to hide behind him.


    Styx eyed the rest of the bathers with suspicion as he whispered. "Shh, if we stay quiet, no one will look over here."


    "Wait, are you telling me that your brash, sarcastic self can''t handle public nudity?" Kirra asked with a grin.


    "It''s not something I have a great deal of exposure to," Styx admitted, failing to notice the accidental pun as he ducked behind Kirra again, dodging the glance of a nearby woman. "I always hated bath time when Madame Godani insisted."


    "Too bad she''s not here now," Kirra interrupted dryly.


    "Why do they keep staring at me?" Styx asked, ducking low in the water. Even though he didn''t like being submerged it was better than being gawked at. "I don''t like this at all," he whimpered, "can we leave?"


    "Not yet," Kirra replied as he turned his back to the other bathers to look Styx in the eye. "Come on, turn around and let me wash your hair," he ordered, and was surprised when Styx did so with little hesitation. "They''re simply curious," Kirra explained as he began to run his fingers through Styx''s dark brown locks, encountering a large number of knots that he began to untangle. "You don''t look like them."


    "What do you mean?" Styx replied in confusion. "We''re all human here, from what I can tell."


    Instead of immediately responding, Kirra motioned for Styx to hold his breath and then dunked him under the water. When Styx rose back to the surface, Kirra was holding a bottle of some sweet smelling substance that he quickly poured into his hand.


    Kirra began to rub the substance into Styx''s scalp, and Styx began to relax. The smell had the effect of soothing one''s nerves, which was why Kirra had chosen that particular type of shampoo. As Styx groaned with pleasure at the feeling of having his scalp massaged Kirra explained, "You''re pale. You haven''t seen more than a few days of sun in your life. There''s also the fact that your tattoos stick out. I like this one a lot." Kirra reached down into the water and gently touched the tattoo on Styx''s back between his shoulder blades. It was an eagle with its wings spread wide and done in black ink. "Eagles are my favorite animal."


    "Tattoos are common," Styx replied, feeling his nervousness leave completely under the sensation he was feeling now. He pushed up against Kirra''s fingers, loving the touch against his skin. "Everyone has them in The Shade, and there seem to be plenty of them here. Several of the bathers have them."


    "Yes, but not spirit tattoos," Kirra clarified. "Trust me, we can tell the difference as well as you can. Spirit tattoos are illegal in Pentalus and The Everbright City. It''s not illegal to have one, just to get one. So, that makes you unique."


    "Well, it''s not as if I chose to kill the hawk," Styx said defensively as he reached up to his cheek. "I''ve had this since I was an infant."


    "Personally, I find it quite distinguished," Kirra admitted, and he was glad that Styx was facing the other way so that he couldn''t see his blush. Despite the implications Styx might take from the action, he stroked Styx''s cheek gently as he studied the design. "Now that the dirt is no longer obscuring it I can tell that whoever did it was a master. Do you know who it was?"


    "No. Madame Godani said that when I was found I already had this on my cheek."


    "Who is this Madame Godani? You''ve mentioned her twice now."


    "She''s . . . my mother," Styx answered after a slight hesitation. "Not really," he clarified, "but she''s the woman who raised me. She runs the Inkblades thieves'' guild in The Shade."


    "Oh? Are you a thief then?" Kirra asked, and he felt Styx tense up under his fingers. "Don''t be worried, I''m not going to judge you for your past."


    "Yes," Styx replied with a sigh, "Yes, I am."


    "Well, maybe you''d consider leaving that life behind . . ." Kirra suggested, trailing off as he let the thought sink in.


    "Kirra," Styx said as he turned around to face the older boy. "What are you suggesting?"


    "I don''t know how to go about saying this. Quite frankly, I''ve never really had feelings like this before for anyone, until now," Kirra admitted with a blush, then coughed and continued, "I was wondering if you''d stay with me. I enjoy your company."


    "Honestly . . ." Styx said as he let the thought play around in his head. "I enjoy yours too," he replied with a sad smile, "but I''m not sure that I can."


    "Why not?"


    "There''s . . ." Styx began, but he shrugged helplessly as he couldn''t express the thoughts in his mind. "I don''t know, my feelings are mixed up right now."


    "There''s someone else isn''t there," Kirra stated with a sad smile.


    "Not exactly. Yes? I told you I was confused," Styx replied with a shake of his head. He hadn''t thought about Maxthane much, not since his talk with Dogo, but now thoughts of the prince came flooding back into his mind. "I don''t want to think about him, but I can''t stop it either."


    "I understand," Kirra replied with a tight smile, "I knew it would turn out to be too good to be true."


    "Kirra, how about you give me some time?" Styx offered with a sincere smile. "I''ve never had any real friends, and I would like to get to know you first. I''ve been tossed all over the place over the past two days, and I don''t think I would be happy with myself if I made a decision like that without knowing what I was getting into. I need some time for things to calm down."


    "Reasonable enough," Kirra replied with his grin returning, "but let me give you something else to think about." He pressed forward through the water and kissed Styx passionately. Styx didn''t need any urging to kiss back, and they stayed locked together for nearly a minute, the tension dissipating between them as their bodies pressed together. Exerting all of his willpower to end the moment, Kirra pulled back. He knew there was a connection between them, but he wanted to respect Styx''s desire for time. At the very least, the expression on Styx''s face told him that he had left an impression that Styx would not soon forget.


    "Come on," Kirra said, smiling sadly with the knowledge that it might be some time before he would be able to taste Styx''s lips again. "Let''s finish up so that we can go meet the others."


    They continued their bath in silence, as Kirra washed Styx''s hair thoroughly, while Styx took the hint to scrub his body at the same time. Once Kirra thought Styx sufficiently cleansed they returned to the lockers where their clothing was stored.


    Styx tried to dress as quickly as he could. Now that they were out of the water his embarrassment had returned, and he couldn''t wait to be covered up again. He had some trouble getting into the unfamiliar clothing, but Kirra quickly came to his rescue. Styx started to calm down again when he felt Kirra''s hands against his skin, even though Kirra took his time and let his touches linger. There was something about Kirra''s presence that seemed to make everything okay, and he almost regretted it when Kirra pulled his hands away. When they were both finished dressing, Styx was surprised to find that the new clothes were comfortable even if they did make him look like a noble.


    He reached for his old boots, the only piece of clothing that Kirra hadn''t destroyed earlier, but he was surprised to find a new pair being handed to him instead. They appeared to be of the finest quality of leather, and when Styx put them on his feet he found that they were surprisingly comfortable.


    "When did you pick these up?" Styx asked in wonder as he stood up and took a few steps to test out their feel.


    "I bought them while you were being measured," Kirra explained with a slight smile. "There was a cobbler next door to the tailor''s and I chose something from the stock he had available. I had to guess at the measurements, but from your expression I''m guessing I did a good job."


    Styx nodded and helped Kirra gather the rest of their things and left the bathhouse. On their way out, Kirra made sure to ask the attendant at the desk if she could dispose of the sack of rags for them and then tossed her a few coins for her trouble.


    There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Kirra wanted to speak about what had happened to them at the baths, but didn''t know how to start. Styx appeared to be lost in thought and Kirra didn''t want to intrude on his introspection, lest he ruin things between them, and sadly, the silence lingered until they reached the barracks and knocked on the door of Alsha''s office.


    "You look and smell much better," Lady Alsha observed as she opened the door and looked Styx over. "I''m impressed. If you weren''t so pale I might not think you were a Shade anymore."


    "Thanks, I guess," Styx replied with a tight smile.


    "I suppose your lack of proper manners gives you away too, but I can get used to that," Alsha continued with a grin. "Come in, both of you. We need to talk."


    "How did it go?" Styx asked as soon as he saw Prism, who was sitting in a comfortable-looking armchair, drinking a cup of tea.


    "They''ve put in a request for an audience," Prism replied with a roll of his eyes. "That''s all they can do, they say. Quite arrogant for those chosen to protect the people if you ask me."


    Styx couldn''t stop himself from snickering at Prism''s observation. With a raised eyebrow Alsha asked, "And what do you find so amusing?"


    "Oh, just that we were sharing similar thoughts earlier," Styx replied after glancing at Kirra. "So, what''s the plan then?"


    "We''ll rest. There''s little more that we can do until tomorrow. Everyone I know with any influence is already asleep," Alsha answered with a shrug. "First thing in the morning, we''re taking you to see the Oracle."


    "The Oracle?" Kirra asked in surprise.


    "She has requested to see you, Styx," Alsha explained while Prism nodded sagely. "I''m not sure why, but I don''t question her orders either."


    "It''s because you saved my life, Styx," Prism explained before taking another sip of his tea. "She would like to thank you personally. It is a Fedain custom that has been around for thousands of years."


    "Maybe it''s been gone for that long as well," Kirra replied with a smirk. "I''ve never heard of it."


    "How many times have you heard a tale of a Fedain who wasn''t doing the saving themselves?" Prism returned with a knowing grin. "It isn''t a custom that would come up often."


    "I concede the point," Kirra replied with a slight bow. "Now the last thing to cover is where Styx will sleep this evening."


    "That was something I wondered about as well," Styx added with a look of concern.


    "The council believes that the best solution is for you to continue your charge over Styx while they keep him around for questioning," Alsha explained while Kirra nodded slowly. He was beginning to see where this was going, and he almost groaned when she confirmed his fears and said, "As per the rules governing barracks'', Styx cannot sleep here. Kirra, you''ve received special dispensation to stay outside the barracks for the time being. You''ll have to take him home."


    "Home?" Kirra replied, not liking the news at all. "Has that been cleared with him?"


    "High Inquisitor Grembal delivered the news to me himself," Alsha replied with a sad smile. "It appears he''s been hoping you''d visit for a while now, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity."


    "Understood," Kirra replied without emotion. As his stomach began to knot he saluted and turned on his heel. As he stepped out the door he said "Let me go gather my things. Styx, we''ll leave as soon as I get back."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 17: The Dark Island

    "You want to help us?"


    "You look surprised, Prince Maxthane," Dogo answered with a disarming smile. "I think we''ve already made ourselves quite clear. Your father risks bringing doom upon us all."


    Dogo, Maxthane, Grim, and Madame Godani sat around an elegant table in the Inkblade guild hall. A full tea cup sat before each of them, and a plate of cheese and crackers sat in the center for anyone to eat from. It had remained untouched through the course of their discussion, though Grim and Maxthane had both thanked Madame Godani graciously for her hospitality. Even though Maxthane had gone most of the day without eating, the adrenaline of their escape was still with him, and he didn''t have much of an appetite.


    The gladiators were in another room being fed a large meal at Madame Godani''s expense, awaiting the result of the discussion being held without them. Maxthane didn''t think it would take much longer, though he was still bewildered that Dogo and Madame Godani had any desire to stop his father. Maxthane sat in the company of thieves, and thieves always looked out for themselves first.


    "My motives are not so altruistic," Madame Godani admitted with a tight smile, "but I do agree with Dogo that we have to ensure this does not come back to harm The Shade. I still believe that this rebellion will not amount to anything, but we need to make sure that we cover our own interests."


    "Spoken like a true thief," Dogo noted with a laugh. "You''ll never change."


    Madame Godani grunted as she glared at Dogo sitting beside her. "You were always too good for The Shade, Dogo." She made a shooing motion with her hand as she added, "What with how much you dislike our dishonorable ways, I''m honestly surprised you stick around."


    Dogo glared back at her and opened his mouth to reply when Grim raised his hand to stop their quarrel. "Please, we appreciate any help that you have to offer," Grim interjected. "Can you get us to the surface?"


    "Yes, though we will have to be more careful than we were when we helped Styx escape," Dogo explained. "Salidar is already suspicious that we had something to do with that, and I''m not certain we can avoid his attention if we act openly."


    "So what do we do?" Maxthane asked.


    "There is a fourth exit to the surface," Dogo replied quickly, drawing surprised looks from Maxthane and Madame Godani.


    "What are you talking about?" Madame Godani asked suspiciously.


    "It''s located above the Black Lake," Dogo answered with a smug grin that turned Madame Godani''s glare murderous. "The Ebon Pillar leads straight to it."


    "The Ebon Pillar?" Grim asked, "I haven''t heard of that."


    "It is located in the center of the lake," Dogo explained, ignoring Madame Godani''s glare. "It rises from a small island reputed to be the home of a terrible beast. Everyone in The Shade avoids the island."


    "How did you find out that there was an exit to the surface at the top?" Maxthane asked in wonder.


    "It''s how I enter the Shade every time I come home," Dogo replied with a shrug. Madame Godani''s glare turned thoughtful as her anger seemed to dissipate. She nodded slowly and smiled at Dogo, leaving Maxthane to wonder what thoughts were going through her head.


    "So there is no beast on the island?" Grim inquired with another smile.


    "I didn''t say that," Dogo replied with a grin. When Dogo saw Maxthane''s horrified expression he sighed and continued, "I don''t know, to be honest. If there is, I''ve never seen it, but I have heard things from time to time. It could just be the tentacle beasts that live in the water."


    "Great," Maxthane muttered, rolling his eyes as he digested the news.


    "But we can reach the surface this way?" Grim confirmed eagerly.


    "Yes," Dogo answered with a nod. "In fact it will be much quicker than dodging the patrols. All we have to do is find someone willing to take us to the island." Shaking his head he explained, "I''m afraid my usual vessel will not suffice. It''s far too small to bring all of the gladiators along, assuming that they are going with us."


    "Then what are we waiting for?" Grim asked as he rose to his feet. "Let''s ask the gladiators and go."


    "What are you going to do, Madame Godani?" Maxthane asked before Grim got too carried away with leaving. "You said you wanted to help as well, and though we appreciate you feeding us, I know you always have more going on than meets the eye."


    Madame Godani regarded him carefully and said, "Your perception will take you far once you are in your father''s position, Maxthane. I''ll be speaking with the other guilds and laying down the groundwork for defense of The Shade should your father succeed and release the demons. We will want to be ready to defend ourselves."


    "That''s a good idea," Grim said solemnly, "We didn''t have a plan when the demons first arrived on our world, and that nearly destroyed us all. I wish you the best of luck should the demons make their way down here, Madame Godani." He turned toward Dogo and insisted, "Now we really should get going. Time is of the essence."


    The meeting adjourned, and they left to question the gladiators. Maxthane took a bit of cheese and crackers on the way out. With the pace that Grim was now setting he didn''t know when they would eat next, and he knew he needed something to help him last through the day, even if his appetite had yet to return.


    When they entered the dining hall, Maxthane saw that the gladiators had no problems feasting on what was provided to them. Madame Godani knew how to treat her guests with respect, and the gladiators thanked her with loud cheers when she entered the room. Grim raised his hands above his head to indicate that he would like to address the group, and the noise slowly faded.


    "We are about to embark on a dangerous mission," he began with a somber expression, "I am hoping that at least some of you will come with us."


    Cheers erupted from the crowd, signaling that every gladiator had intentions to join them, but Grim wasn''t finished. He raised his hand to silence the group again before he continued. "Before you agree, you need to understand what we''re up against. Salidar and his soldiers intend to free several demons in Pentalus. It is our mission to stop him from doing so. Should we fail in that, our mission will be to stop the demons themselves."


    "There are several different types of demons that we may encounter, and I''m afraid I don''t have the time to explain every last detail, but they all share some similar traits. They will all be more powerful than you or I," he paused for effect, to make sure they all understood how serious he was. "They will be stronger, or faster, and certainly more deadly. You have to understand these foes, and what they''re capable of."


    "The demons first came here eight hundred years ago, and were a scourge that touched every corner of the world. They came from a realm foreign to ours, and their alien nature reflects their origin. We never learned their purpose, their motives for unleashing their wrath upon us all, but we do know that they are bent on destroying all that stand in their way," his eyes scanned the room, meeting every pair of eyes that looked back at him, letting them feel the power of his memory. He knew all too well the nature of the demons and how little respect they had for life, and he wanted to transfer that emotion to the gladiators who sat before him, so that they properly understood the choice in front of them. "They grow in power with every one of us that they kill," he went on, "feeding off of our very life essence. As they grow in power, they also grow in size, as if it is sustenance to them. Most of them can also use that power to heal their wounds if given time to recover."


    "The one thing in our favor is that they are finite in number," he explained with a hint of a smile, trying to bolster the group''s morale. "We have never seen signs that the demons reproduce, and we are certain that the gate which allowed them access is sealed shut. There will not be any more of them, and once they are destroyed our task is done."


    "What manner of creature doesn''t reproduce?" One of the gladiators asked, "How did they come into existence in the first place?"


    "We don''t know," Grim answered with a slight shake of his head, "but they are alien to this world, and they must be stopped. We may be the only ones who can stand in the way of the demons, and I certainly can''t do it alone." He paused for dramatic effect before he asked, "Will you fight alongside me?"


    Most of the gladiators pledged their loyalty to the Fedain with a round of cheers. Some answered that they would like to remain in The Shade, and these were allowed to leave without any hindrance. The rest picked up their gear and gathered at the entrance to the guildhall.


    To Maxthane''s surprise and delight, Madame Godani had something waiting for them; a varied selection of weapons with which to outfit them. Though some of the gladiators had already acquired some from Salidar''s halls, a few minutes later everyone was equipped with a means of defending themselves, and Maxthane knew that their chances had just improved.


    The group thanked Madame Godani again, only to have her shoo them out of her guildhall. They split into smaller groups to avoid detection before heading toward the Black Docks, intending to reassemble when they reached the pier. Maxthane and Grim traveled together, and upon their arrival they found that most of the group had beaten them there. Dogo was speaking to a bear of a man who stood a full head taller than him. The black tattoo of a giant sea snake covered his right shoulder, a traditional expression of ship ownership on these docks.


    "You pay good coin, Dogo," The captain remarked as he crossed his arms over his chest, "but even that will not be enough for me to take you to the island. You''re not going to find anyone that will, either."


    "I came to you for a reason, Baggart," Dogo replied with a disarming smile. "I have news of Kutos."


    "He died in the arena. What of it?"


    "Are you aware of the circumstances of his death?"


    "A pit fight is a pit fight," Baggart replied with a shrug of his shoulders while keeping his arms crossed. "If he wasn''t strong enough to survive, then he didn''t deserve to."


    "No one could have survived against the creature he fought," Dogo explained, shaking his head at Baggart''s indifference, "At least not without knowing what they were getting into. It was slaughter."


    "What of it? That makes little difference."


    "Is your brother''s death truly so meaningless to you?" Dogo asked with an edge to his voice. Maxthane cringed as he watched Baggart stare at Dogo with a dangerous glint in his eyes.


    "No. It is not meaningless," Baggart replied coldly, "but I fail to see what it has to do with me taking you to the island."


    "If you take us to the island, we will be able to avenge your brother''s death," Dogo replied without skipping a beat. "There is a route to the surface that we must take if we are to catch the man responsible."The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    This new piece of information seemed to work on Baggart. He lost his defensive posture as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. He stuck his hand out to seal the deal a moment later and Dogo clasped his arm and shook it.


    "Very well, I''ll do it for you," Baggart said with a grin, "but I''ll take the coin as well. We can leave in half an hour."


    "We appreciate your cooperation, Baggart. We will be waiting."


    The ship was barely large enough for the twenty or so gladiators, and the creaking wooden frame set out, sitting lower in the water than it ever had. Maxthane glanced back at the crew, and noted that they, too, glanced at the water uneasily, with every stroke of their oars. Only Baggart, Grim, and Dogo seemed unaffected by fear, though it only took Maxthane a moment of looking at the captain''s eyes to tell that his outer composure was a facade. He was just as uneasy as the rest of his crew.


    The trip to the island went without incident, and as they neared the boulder-strewn shore the captain jumped to his feet to look for a place to tie up. Dogo moved up beside him and gestured to a large boulder sticking out of the water on the very edge of the shoreline. "You can tie up to that rock there," he explained quickly, "There is an iron ring I embedded into the stone so that I could moor here more easily."


    "You come here often?" Baggart asked, with a wry smile, as he followed Dogo''s instructions, hooking the ring with a pole, pulling the boat closer and then feeding his painter through the loop. In less than a minute they were tightly secured and floating less than ten feet from the shore. Maxthane was surprised that they hadn''t scraped the bottom with the boat, but then he realized what that meant. The edge of the island must drop steeply toward the bottom of the lake. He looked up at the pillar that rose from the center of the island and noted that the entire slope was littered with boulders, as if the island had been formed by a collapse of the cavern roof above them.


    "Every once in a while," Dogo said with a shrug, "I can''t reveal all of my secrets, Baggart."


    Baggart shook his head and lifted the gang plank, and rested it firmly on the boat and then the shore. Once it was secured, Dogo turned to address the gladiators. "All right, everyone off. We''re headed straight for the pillar. Don''t dally."


    As the gladiators quickly filed onto the shore, Dogo turned back to the captain and said quietly, "Once we''re off, I suggest you leave, Baggart. You will only be in danger if you stay here."


    "Don''t worry about me, Dogo," Baggart replied with an uneasy glance at the island. "I have every intention of leaving this place at once."


    Dogo nodded and followed the others to the shore, joining Grim and Maxthane who were looking up at the towering pillar of stone a few hundred yards away. He motioned for them to follow and then started walking quickly toward the pillar, without sparing another glance at the ship or its crew. The gladiators followed eagerly, not willing to lose their guide in such unfamiliar and ominous territory. As they walked, Maxthane could hear the distant sound on something scraping against the stone, and from the look on his companions'' faces they could hear it to. The source of the sound seemed to be moving; though it became more distant the further up the shore they went.


    As they reached the pillar Maxthane noticed the winding steps cut into the stone. The torches held by several of the gladiators could only reveal a small area, but the stairs continued wrapping around the pillar to the end of the illumination. Dogo motioned for them to gather close so that he could relay additional instruction when a cry arose from the shore below them.


    "What is that thing!?"


    The group turned back toward the shout, and Maxthane saw a large form shuffling through the darkness. It was humanoid in shape, but it was six times the size of any man Maxthane had ever seen. It was shambling toward the boatmen, who still stood on the shore, despite Dogo''s warning that they should leave as soon as possible. Thunderous footsteps echoed across the nearby stone, and a loud grating of metal against rock followed each step as if something was dragged behind it. Sparks sprang from around the form whenever it moved, temporarily casting it in dim light, revealing that it appeared to be covered in some black metal.


    As the form came within the torchlight of the boatmen, the light illuminated its strange design. Humanoid in shape it may have been, but it was alien to Maxthane. It was not covered in metal at all, but rather forged of it. Its head was without nose or mouth, and the single piece that resembled an eye began to glow bright red as it turned its gaze on the men who stood before it. It continued to shuffle toward the boat on one massive leg, while its other leg dragged along the ground behind it. The dragging leg was a mangled mass of metal and mechanical parts, and that could only mean one thing¡ªthis was a golem.


    He had only heard of golems from childhood fairy tales, and read about them once, in a tome of magic. It was said that people millennia ago had the ability to make contraptions of metal come to life, to serve their purposes. There was little doubt that this was what he was seeing now, and the thought filled him with wonder and fear.


    Maxthane had become so wrapped up in watching the golem''s approach that he failed to notice that Dogo was already charging toward it, kukri out and bola at the ready. It appeared Grim had noticed Dogo''s action at the same moment, and without any hesitation charged toward the golem as well. The gladiators moved to follow their leader, leaving only Maxthane to stare down at the event in wonder. Even though every instinct told him to run, he knew he couldn''t simply abandon his comrades, and he took a deep breath before running after the others.


    The boatmen were scrambling to get back on the boat when the golem reached them, swinging one massive arm down at the boatman who was pulling the gangplank back onto the ship. The boatman screamed as he was crushed into the wood, but the blow continued downward, splintering the timber as the boat tilted into the air and flung the crew into the black water. Baggart and his remaining crew came up spluttering and quickly swam for the shore despite the presence of the golem waiting for them. Only five of the boatmen, including Baggart, managed to make it out of the water without being pulled back by dark tentacles dragging them to their doom.


    "Dogo! You''re going to pay for this, you bastard!" Baggart shouted as he climbed out of the water.


    The golem was on the move again, aiming for the boatman nearest to it. Before the drenched boatman could even climb to his feet, the golem was already smashing down with its right arm, pounding him into the rocks. The four remaining boatmen scrambled to get their weapons out and then grouped together. Baggart brandished his large sword at the golem, the only one of his crew not shaking in fear. Maxthane couldn''t make out the words that Baggart was shouting at his crew, but they formed into a tight formation as they faced the golem with their captain standing bravely at the front.


    Baggart''s position made him the prime target of the golem''s next strike, but he had prepared for that maneuver. As the arm came smashing down at his skull, Baggart braced himself against the stones beneath him and caught the hand of the golem, his extreme strength managing to hold the arm steady. His three remaining crew members charged to his aid, hacking at the sturdy arm with all their might. Maxthane and the others watched in horror as each blow glanced off of the metal with little effect. Undeterred by its attackers, the golem swung at the men with its other arm and swatted them away. At the same time it lifted the arm held back by Baggart, pulling him from the ground with it.


    Baggart let go a moment too late, and hit the ground without enough time to recover. The golem swung at him with a sweeping strike, sending him flying hard and fast into the rocks several yards away. Dogo reached Baggart soon after he crashed and checked to see if he was all right.


    "Baggart? Why the hell did you stay?" Dogo asked as he helped Baggart to his feet. The rest of the crew were climbing to their feet at the same time, turning back to the golem which was once again lumbering toward them.


    "I wanted to see your escape route," the captain replied breathlessly. "An entrance no one knows about would prove to be a very profitable bargaining chip."


    "Only fools worry about profit above all else," Dogo scolded.


    "Heh, have you ever known me for anything else?" Baggart replied before charging back toward the golem. There was now a dangerous gleam in his eye. He had felt the power of the golem and he now knew what he was up against. Dogo shook his head as he charged after Baggart, knowing that he would need all the support he could get.


    Before they reached the golem it picked up a large boulder and tossed it at one of the boatmen, pulverizing his skull in a shower of blood. The horrific sight stopped the remaining crew members in their tracks. It wasn''t until their captain rushed bravely past them that they regained their courage and moved to assist him.


    Baggart dodged past two sweeping attacks and went straight for the golem''s broken leg. Dogo saw what the captain had in mind and moved to draw the golem''s attention by pulling a dagger from his belt and throwing it directly at the giant''s eye. The strike struck the bright red spot and bounced off with a metallic clang, but it served its purpose. It turned its focus from Baggart beneath it, and picked up another boulder, aiming at Dogo.


    Baggart took the opportunity that Dogo had given him and reached inside the wrecked appendage to take hold of the knee joint. Using all of his strength, he pulled on the piece of metal and ripped it out of the socket. The captain shouted in triumph as the leg came away entirely, until the cry was cut short by the golem toppling over on top of him, pinning him between the rocks and its massive bulk.


    "Grim, kill this thing," Maxthane said as he caught up to Grim, who was looking for an opening to join the battle when the golem toppled over. The gladiators charged past him to aid Dogo and the two crewmembers still standing.


    "I can''t kill what isn''t alive, Maxthane," Grim replied as the golem propped itself back up, leaning on its stub of a leg, the jagged ends of which it planted in Baggart''s body. Even if Baggart had survived the weight of the golem falling on him he was surely dead now.


    The golem was far from finished with the fight. As the gladiators moved in to attack, it rocked back and forth on its stub of a leg and took a several unbalanced swings toward them, driving them back. While the gladiators recovered it picked up another boulder and prepared to throw it at the nearest target.


    "Dogo! Get the others to safety. I can distract it," Grim ordered as he charged toward the golem. He tapped the giant on the leg as he rushed past it, drawing its attention. It ignored the gladiators in front of it as it turned after Grim, shuffling on its stump before sending the boulder in its hand sailing through the air toward Grim. Grim danced to the side at the last instant, the boulder smashing into the ground and spraying him with shrapnel. Grim hardly lost speed as he charged through the resulting cloud of stone to tag the golem again, ensuring that its attention remained on him and not on the others.


    "Grim! Don''t be a fool! You just said that you can''t kill it," Maxthane shouted and took an involuntary step after his friend. He felt helpless to assist, but he couldn''t bear the thought of seeing Grim face the golem alone.


    "No, he''s right. We have to trust him," Dogo shouted before turning back to the two remaining boatmen and motioning for them to head toward the pillar. The gladiators all hesitated as if they were going to pursue it and come to Grim''s defense until Dogo called out to them and waved them onward. Though they were obviously conflicted, they complied, abandoning the dancing Fedain to face the golem alone.


    "Dogo . . .!" Maxthane began to protest but stopped when Dogo reached him.


    "Come on, Maxthane," Dogo said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Every second we wait is another moment that Grim has to distract it. The less time he needs to do so, the higher chance that he''ll survive."


    As they hurried back up the island to the pillar, Grim continued his dance with the golem. Maxthane kept looking over his shoulder as the fight continued, wincing every time a boulder flew past Grim or a swing of the golem''s giant arms came crashing to the stones beside him. If it weren''t for Dogo pulling him along at those moments he wouldn''t have made any progress toward the pillar at all.


    As soon as they reached the steps Maxthane turned back to his friend and shouted, "Grim, come on! That''s enough! Run!"


    Whether he heard the shout or not, Grim complied and dodged away from his opponent again. He turned his back on the golem so that he could see the path ahead of him, and tore toward the group as quickly as he could. Maxthane shouted for Grim to watch out as the golem picked up another boulder but the cry came too late. Before Grim could turn and dodge appropriately, the boulder was sailing through the air toward him. Grim still managed to move to the side, but the boulder grazed his right arm and sent him spiraling to the rocks.


    He rebounded to his feet quickly, but he was clutching his right arm tightly as he returned to sprinting up the rocks. Another boulder came flying toward him, but it fell short and clattered to the stones behind him. Knowing that he was out of the golem''s range, Grim chose his path a little more carefully until he reached the group waiting for him at the bottom of the pillar.


    Maxthane looked at Grim''s arm with concern, seeing the blood that was now staining his sleeve. "Are you all right?" he asked as he reached toward the wound.


    "I''ll be fine," Grim replied, smiling weakly. "I''ve already stopped the blood flow. Now come on, let''s go."


    Without needing any more encouragement, the group turned and headed up the stairs. Dogo let the gladiators and the two boatmen move ahead of him, instructing them that it would be a straight climb to the top, waiting until the end of the line before ascending with Grim and Maxthane.


    They climbed until they could no longer hear the shuffling movements of the golem below them. As soon as they escaped the sound the group sighed collectively and shared looks of relief that the ordeal was over. The rest of the climb became easier as everyone began to relax.


    "You didn''t carve out these stairs, did you?" Maxthane remarked in wonder after a while. He knew that it was impossible, unless Dogo was far more magically inclined than he appeared.


    "Certainly not," Dogo replied with a chuckle at the outrageous question. "I''m sure that this route was used by people long before The Shade came to be what it was. You''ll see when we get to the top."


    They reached the top of the staircase a short time later. The very last step led to a doorway set in the pillar itself, a few feet beneath the cavern ceiling. They were still several hundred feet below the surface, and Maxthane realized that, despite the amount of rock which had fallen away from the ceiling to create the island, they were still at the lowest point of the ceiling in the entire cavern. With the amount of distance they still had to cover, there was sure to be another cave complex above them.


    But when they stepped through the doorway and climbed up the short spiral staircase on the inside, Maxthane''s jaw dropped amidst the gasps of those surrounding him. He would have never suspected the scene that awaited them.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 18: Illusions

    "How did you sleep, Styx? I trust that our beds were not too uncomfortable."


    High Inquisitor Kinar Grembal regarded Styx curiously as the young man stirred his bowl of breakfast porridge. The old man''s gaze was unsettling to Styx, but he couldn''t determine why. Inquisitor Grembal had proven to be an excellent host and had treated him with the utmost respect, but there was something in his gaze that sent a shiver down Styx''s spine whenever Grembal looked his way.


    "It wasn''t what I was used to, but it was certainly soft enough," Styx replied before eating another spoonful of porridge. "I don''t know if I''ve ever slept better," he added after swallowing. "I appreciate your hospitality, Master Grembal."


    "I enjoy having unique guests," Grembal remarked with a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. "It is a rarity for there to be visitors to the Everbright City at all. Foreign dignitaries come from time to time, but they normally stay in the palace with the King." Styx shivered under Grembal''s gaze as he added, "I must say this is the first time we''ve had a Shade visit."


    "You''re embarrassing him, High Inquisitor," Kirra interrupted with a dangerous edge. "Can''t you lay off a bit?"


    "Kirra, I have no intention of embarrassing my guests," Grembal replied in an offended tone. He glanced back to Styx and smiled. "I simply find him curious." His smile dropped again when he turned back to Kirra. "Maybe if you would come and visit every once in a while, I wouldn''t have to interrogate your friends whenever they come by."


    "This is hardly about you and me . . ."


    "It always is, and you know it," Grembal replied with a snort. "I took care of you after your parents died, when no one else would. The least you could do is show some gratitude and pay an old man some respect by dropping by every so often."


    "I''m sorry," Styx interrupted, growing more uncomfortable by the second, "it appears that I have walked into the middle of something here. Would you mind if I left you two alone?"


    "Yes, as a matter of fact I would mind," Grembal replied without hesitation. He turned to Styx and reached out to touch his hand, causing Styx''s stomach to knot. "Stay. I''ll behave. I won''t bring it up again. Can we agree to a truce, Kirra?"


    Kirra snorted and looked away, which tightened Grembal''s smile. The smile had never touched his eyes anyway, but Styx kept that thought to himself as Grembal turned his attention back to him. "Have you enjoyed your time in the city so far?" He asked, stepping back into the role of the grandfatherly host instead of the unhappy parent.


    "I suppose," Styx replied noncommittally before taking another mouthful of porridge. As Grembal continued to look at him expectantly Styx swallowed and explained, "It''s a little bright for me. My eyes haven''t adjusted yet. I''m sure that will improve with time."


    "Yes, I''m sure it will," Grembal agreed. Then, with a slight shrug he added, "Depending on how long you choose to stay, of course."


    "That hasn''t been decided yet," Styx replied quietly, glancing back at Kirra. The look wasn''t lost on either Kirra or the Grembal. It seemed as if Grembal was about to press for an explanation when a servant stepped into the room and bowed deeply to him.


    "Excuse me sir," the servant said quickly, without straightening from the bow, "but Lady Alsha Tremlain has arrived. She is asking for Lord Kirra and your honored guest."


    "If you''ll excuse us," Kirra said before Grembal could reply. He stood and neatly placed his napkin next to his bowl of porridge before going on, "we have another appointment this morning."


    "Very well," Grembal replied with a curt nod, "though I hope you will join me again for dinner."


    "We''ll see if we''re available," Kirra answered with a fake smile. Without another word he gestured for Styx to follow him and left the room, not even waiting to see if Styx was coming.


    "What was that all about?" Styx asked as he caught up to Kirra. "He seems like a nice enough guy."


    "He isn''t," Kirra replied sternly. "Trust me. I''ll tell you about it later."


    Styx pondered Kirra''s words as they continued through the halls of the spacious manor. It was the most extravagant home that Styx had ever seen, and it made him wonder if High Inquisitor Grembal had more resources than Salidar.


    It also made him curious as to how Kirra had ended up as he had. Being surrounded by riches tended to make a person soft, but that wasn''t what he saw in Kirra. Instead, Kirra was a fighter who stood up for himself and those he thought needed protecting. He was a defender of the weak, a true knight in the service of a higher cause.


    Which was the opposite of Maxthane, Styx mused. Or was it? Hadn''t Maxthane let him go when he could have held him prisoner until he got what he wanted? Maxthane was soft; there was no denying that fact, and surely it was the result of his rich upbringing, but that softness had bred a gentle side in him that was an extreme rarity in The Shade. Maxthane had stood up to his father by freeing Styx, his gentle nature not allowing him to keep caged the boy he loved. Maxthane had proven that he served a higher cause as well.


    The thoughts continued to roll about in Styx''s head as they reached the entry hall to the manor and found both Prism and Alsha waiting for them. Alsha was tapping her foot impatiently, while Prism was busying himself in admiring the artwork. There was a balance between them that Styx noted as he studied them before he entered the room. Alsha''s fidgeting seemed to be rooted in her warrior''s heart, while Prism''s tranquil demeanor reflected his inner peace. They were like two sides of a coin, but which worked together to form one whole, rather than being at odds with each other.


    "Commander. Master Prism," Kirra greeted them with a pleasant smile. "You''re both looking very refreshed."


    "Kirra, you look terrible," Alsha observed with a raised eyebrow, noting the stress that hid behind Kirra''s smile. She turned her eyes to Styx and said, "Styx, you''re looking well."


    "And he still smells good, too," Prism remarked without turning away from the painting he was examining.


    "Would you cut that out?" Styx asked in a huff, drawing a chuckle from the other three. He shared his glare between all three of them before he brought them back to the matter at hand. "All right, so we''re off to see the Oracle, correct?"


    "That''s right," Lady Alsha confirmed with a nod, smiling in response to his glare.


    "Then what are we waiting for?" Styx asked impatiently. The others shared a chuckle before they left the manor.


    "Have you enjoyed the city so far?" Alsha asked Styx as soon as they were outside.


    Styx looked at Kirra and smiled as he remembered their time in the bathhouse together. "Yes, I''d say so. There are fewer restrictions on me here than I thought there would be. I expected them to be kept in a cell, and instead I was treated to a new set of clothes and spent the night in a rich house. I''d say it''s been pretty good."


    "If you say so," Prism said with a snort. "This is not unlike Ultaka was eight hundred years ago. It looks rich and extravagant, but it''s a fa?ade to hide cowards who aren''t willing to do what needs to be done." His hands clenched into fists momentarily but then relaxed again as he turned toward Alsha with an apologetic smile. "I''m sorry, I''ve been doing that all morning, haven''t I?"


    "Well, you''re right that there''s certainly a problem with the bureaucracy," Alsha said with an understanding grin. "But I wouldn''t say they''re all cowards. Kirra and I are doing the best that we can, and that has to count for something, right?"


    "It does," Styx interjected, before Prism could say anything. He could tell that Prism''s stress levels were rising and he didn''t want to risk alienating their friends because of something Prism might say. "We appreciate all of the help you''ve given us. Prism wouldn''t be alive if it weren''t for you and I probably would have died trying to rescue him."


    Prism sighed and turned to regard Styx curiously before adding, "Yes, we are grateful for what you''ve done. At least someone seems to care, though I would prefer to speak with Neredos; I''m sure he''d do something if he knew what was happening."


    "Perhaps you can ask Veil about it when we arrive?" Kirra suggested.


    "Maybe," Prism replied noncommittally.


    They came upon the Oracle''s enclave and Styx stopped in his tracks, stunned by the sight before him. The building stood in stark contrast to the rest of the Everbright City. Whereas the city had been built to show the wealth and power of its inhabitants, the Oracle''s enclave was created with nothing but beauty in mind. Columns of purest white marble supported the structure and seemed to catch the sun''s rays from every angle, making it seem to glow with a light of its own.


    Knights, dressed in gleaming armor of silver and white stood at attention before the entrance. Styx found himself being pulled toward them, looking down in surprise to see Kirra holding his hand firmly as he smiled back at him.


    "Come on, it''s even more impressive inside," Lady Alsha said as she looked back at the two. Blushing, Styx nodded and allowed himself to be led. Before he knew it, they were striding through the columns, and Styx gasped at the sights that awaited him. Mirrors were set along every wall, reflecting those opposite them a way that made the space seem to extend forever. The illusion continued until they reached a room at the center of the enclave, where they found Lady Veil waiting for them. There were no mirrors in this room, but Styx would have found it difficult to be distracted by such mundane objects when faced with the beauty that stood before him.


    His heart skipped a beat as Veil spoke, directing her pleasant smile toward him. "You must be Styx."


    "Y-yes," Styx stammered, "er . . . your Oracleness?"


    "You may call me ''Lady Veil''," Veil replied smoothly. "There''s no need for formal titles." Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled as she added, "I understand that you saved Prism''s life."


    "I think not, Lady Veil," Styx responded humbly. "Prism told me before he was captured that he could only be healed by a Fedain. I simply passed that knowledge along."


    "You were right to do so," Veil praised, "Prism would not be here now if you had said nothing." She beckoned Styx forward as she said, "Come, walk with me. I wish to speak with you in more depth and show my appreciation."


    Styx didn''t realize he was moving until he was standing directly in front of her and Veil was speaking again, this time to his comrades. "Prism, Alsha Tremlain, I will return to speak to you shortly. If you''ll excuse us for a moment."


    "Of course, Oracle," Lady Alsha replied with a formal bow, while Prism gave nothing but a short nod. Kirra bowed in deference as well, regardless of the fact that he had not been addressed. Veil accepted their gestures with a shallow nod and then left the room, leaving into a different hallway than the one they had entered from. Styx moved along with her, wondering what she could possibly want of him.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    To his surprise, Veil reached down and held his hand, squeezing it gently. Her touch was soft and warm, and he was filled with a sensation of peace until she let go just as suddenly as she had begun. "You''ve been touched by a Fedain recently," she remarked with a smile, "and not just any Fedain. You know Grim?"


    It was a statement more than a question, and when Styx nodded Veil asked, "Are you aware that Grim is my brother?"


    "No, I didn''t know that," Styx replied. "Neither Grim nor Prism ever said anything about it." With a chuckle he added, "Of course we have been quite distracted over the past few days."


    "Grim and I haven''t spoken in years," Veil replied wistfully, "but that doesn''t really seem like such a long time anymore. It feels like little more than weeks at the moment."


    They walked on slowly for a while longer with neither of them speaking. Styx was content to bask in the peace that Veil seemed to radiate, and she was content to let him do so. But the peace did not last forever as Styx''s internal struggle began to resurface with thoughts of Maxthane and Kirra.


    As he started to fidget Veil reached for his hand again, and her touch once again restored a semblance of peace to his mind. "You have a great many questions you find yourself unable to answer," she remarked as she let go again.


    "You can read minds?" Styx asked in surprise. "I wasn''t aware that was something the Fedain could do."


    "Not exactly, but there are certain things I can learn by sensing the energy of life within you," she explained with another smile. "I can read the way your emotions fluctuate, which allow me to understand much of what is troubling you." With her eyes showing nothing but support she clarified, "In this case, I know that what is troubling you is a matter of your heart."


    "You''re very perceptive," Styx said with a sigh, looking away, "No sense in denying it I suppose."


    "You''re torn between two loves, aren''t you?"


    "Yes, I am," Styx confessed, shaking his head helplessly. "I am drawn to both of them, and though one of them has unintentionally hurt me, I cannot deny my connection to him. I cannot lean toward one without being pulled back by the other."


    "And so you are stuck in the middle, unable to choose."


    "That''s right," Styx confirmed.


    "What rule are you abiding by that tells you that you have to choose?" Veil asked; her cryptic question was lost on Styx.


    "What do you mean?"


    "In Fedain culture, we are not so strict in our relationships," Veil explained with a slight smile. "At times, there will be small groups of us who choose to spend our lives together, rather than as couples."


    "Are you suggesting that I could be with both of them?" Styx asked in wonder.


    "I''m suggesting that you haven''t considered all of your options yet," she clarified. "When you narrow yourself to only two possibilities, you may overlook the best one which lies somewhere in between them."


    Styx nodded as he let the thought sink in. Veil was right; he hadn''t been looking at every possibility, and with that new perspective he also knew that the answer would come in time. "I hope you''ll forgive me for saying this," Styx said with a grin, "but I expected your advice to be much more mystical, and a lot less straightforward."


    "Ah, well you already know my secret," Veil replied with a mischievous grin.


    "I do?"


    "You know that I''m not truly a mystical being," she explained with a pleasant sigh. "I''m simply a very old woman with a great deal of experience. Anyone could pretend to be an oracle if they''ve lived for as long as I have."


    "I''m surprised at how bold you are," Styx replied in astonishment. "Why are you trusting me with that understanding?"


    "Everyone has to trust someone, Styx," Veil answered with a subtle shrug. When Styx looked at her incredulously she chuckled and asked, "What, my answer surprises you? Very well, I must admit the truth." Her grin widened as she explained, "I find little risk in telling you. Who would believe you if you said anything? These people would simply think you were trying to discredit me for some blasphemous reason. You''d be thrown off the edge of the city. Though I suppose your hawk tattoo would save you."


    "So I''m not actually worthy of your trust then?" Styx replied with a sarcastic smirk.


    "I think I know why Prism likes you," Veil replied with a chuckle. "If you keep that attitude, you have the power to change the world, Styx." Her eyes became distant, as if she were pondering an ancient memory, and when she turned back to him again she smiled fondly. "That man could serve to be the perfect mentor for you. He was not unlike you, once."


    "Prism? I find that hard to believe."


    "Don''t sell yourself short," Veil scolded, though there was little sting in her words. "It has taken a great deal of training for him to get to where he is. You can become a great man, too, if you''re willing to dedicate yourself."


    Before Styx could respond Veil turned at the sound of heavy footsteps behind them. A silver-armored guard rushed toward them, and as soon as he had the Oracle''s attention he stopped and shouted, "Oracle, the King is here!"


    "Interesting . . ." Veil whispered, her smile fading. "Come, Styx. I''m sure that Prism is about to get himself into trouble."


    "I thought they were friends." Styx remarked as they began a quick walk back the way they had come.


    "They were," Veil replied with a tight smile, "but King Neredos hasn''t liked hugs for centuries."


    ~ ~ ~ ~


    "Kirra, may I ask you something?"


    Prism''s sudden question caught Kirra off guard. He had been distracted, thinking about Styx, wondering what the Oracle wanted with his new friend. He composed himself quickly and replied with a polite smile, "Of course, Master Prism. What can I do for you?"


    "That sword you carry," Prism said as he nodded toward the curved blade tucked into Kirra''s belt, "it''s a family heirloom isn''t it?"


    "Yes, yes it is," Kirra confirmed in surprise. "How did you know?"


    "I''ve seen it before," Prism replied simply and then asked another surprising question. "I assume that your family name is Elrhanadan?" Kirra nodded as his mouth hung wide open.


    "Might I hold it?"


    Kirra''s mouth snapped shut as he rested his hand on the pommel protectively and replied, "Normally I don''t let anyone touch it,"


    "Kirra, just let him hold me," the sword spoke into his mind, surprising him. He knew better than to show any outward signs of his astonishment, and instead he drew the blade from its sheath and held the hilt out to Prism, heeding the sword''s wishes.


    "But I suppose in your case I am making an exception," Kirra said, with a forced smile.


    "Thank you. I appreciate your trust," Prism replied with a formal bow as he took the blade. Kirra watched as Prism held the sword tenderly, as if he were reuniting with an old friend. Then Kirra realized that Prism probably was. It was said that the Elrhanadan family had earned their place in the Everbright City because of their actions during the Demon War. The sword had most likely encountered Prism at one time or another.


    "Same as she always was," Prism said fondly. He held the sword out for the boy to take back as he added, "I''ll return her to your capable hands."


    "She spoke to you?" Kirra whispered in wonder.


    "Yes, if we get a chance I''ll have to tell you the full story of how we first met, or perhaps she can, if I never get the chance," Prism said with a wry chuckle. "Your commander told me about how you faced off against Fasha. I''m assuming that your sword guided you through that?"


    "Yes, she''s the one who told me he was afraid of fire as well," Kirra said with a nod. "That man, Fasha? He said something that didn''t make any sense to me. He said that my people called him ''Vhor''. My Gor is pretty rusty, but doesn''t Vhor mean, ''unknown''?"


    Before Prism could answer Kirra''s question was forgotten by the sound of heavy footsteps heading toward them from the entrance. Kirra and Alsha snapped to attention as a procession entered the room, saluting their most formal salute. Before them stood a man whose power stood unmatched in the entire world. He was dressed in extravagant robes woven of pure gold, and studded with bright diamonds that twinkled in the light of the room. His black hair was wild and windswept, and though his garments were anything but, his face was that of an unremarkable middle-aged man. Even his beard appeared in need of trimming, though it had held that same appearance for the last eight centuries. King Neredos had never been one to accept change easily.


    "Prism! You old bastard!" Neredos shouted, drawing nervous glances from the rest of his entourage, which was made up of elite soldiers and two Grand Inquisitors, only one of whom Kirra knew; Tibrae. "I knew I''d find you here once those devilish Knights finally found the time to let me know you''d resurfaced." The second Inquisitor looked sheepish while Tibrae openly glared at Neredos'' back.


    Prism chuckled as he approached Neredos. "Neredos!" He exclaimed excitedly, opening his arms wide. The guards behind Neredos brandished their weapons and prepared to rush to their king''s aid, especially when Prism continued forward despite the threat that they posed. "Your bureaucrats shooed me away without a second thought," he said with a wry smile, "It''s good to see you still alive and well."


    Neredos stepped forward and embraced Prism warmly to the surprise of his guards. "Not as good for you as it is for me, I think," Neredos replied with a chuckle. "I''ve only had the company of our lovely Lady Veil over the centuries." His expression turned grim as he added, "The rest of our friends are dead, I''m afraid."


    "Not all of them," Prism corrected with a warm smile. "Grim is still alive, though certainly not well. When last I met him he was imprisoned."


    "I suppose he is alive, isn''t he . . .?" Neredos mused. He waved his hand dismissively as he went on, "I''ve paid little attention to his dealings. Those times are over, and he has refused to let them go."


    "I''m afraid that those times may be coming again, my friend," Prism said, frowning at the dismissal.


    "Oh?" Neredos replied in genuine surprise. "What do you mean?"


    "A demon has been freed from its prison," Prism explained grimly, "A man named Salidar intends to free more. We have to stop him."


    "We tried to tell you, your majesty," Grand Inquisitor Tibrae said, drawing a scornful glance from Neredos. "It appears that Salidar has infiltrated one of the merchant guilds. His forces moved in less than an hour ago, into the estate of a rich merchant named Huzain Sabreeza."


    "This is troubling news indeed!" Neredos said angrily, "We must stop him at once."


    "I don''t think that would be wise, my King." The group turned to see that Lady Veil had returned with Styx in tow. Neredos smiled at her pleasantly, while Prism looked at her in wide-eyed shock.


    "Veil? What are you saying?" Prism asked.


    "If we act now, the people will not know what cause we are fighting for," Veil explained patiently, looking Prism in the eye as she said every word. "Imagine if the Knights of the Firmament were to descend upon Salidar''s forces without obvious provocation," she suggested calmly. "The people would see it as an unnecessary act of brutality."


    "Are you saying that we should wait for him to act first? He''s freed a demon and we know he intends to free more. What more provocation do you need?" Prism asked incredulously.


    "Yes," Lady Alsha agreed, surprising everyone by answering for the Oracle. "There is wisdom in waiting, though I do see your point, Master Prism." Veil didn''t seem to mind, but rather appreciated the support and nodded toward the commander, who blushed a deep crimson.


    "I must admit that I am confused, Commander," Kirra began, but Grand Inquisitor Tibrae cut him off with a glare.


    "You have no right to speak in this assembly, boy," Tibrae snapped.


    "Why not? He''s speaking the truth!" Prism countered.


    "We need to have justification before we make an armed incursion into Pentalus," Alsha said forcefully. "The last thing we need is for the people to think that we''re attacking for no reason. We should wait until Salidar reveals his plan openly, and then we can stop him before he gets too far."


    "I respectfully disagree," Prism said firmly, drawing more disgruntled looks from the soldiers in the room. "Salidar cannot be allowed to free any more of the demons, or many people will die. If we wait, he may succeed, and mayhem will break loose."


    "But mayhem will also break loose if we act preemptively," Alsha replied with a shake of her head, feeding from the confidence that Veil had instilled in her. "There is a great deal of unrest in the city of late. Going against Salidar without a legitimate reason could cause a full-scale revolt. How could we justify that?"


    "Neredos, please," Prism beseeched his old friend. "You must see that this talk is madness! Everything we worked for could be undone in a matter of seconds by Salidar. We cannot stand by and give him the opportunity."


    "Prism, you do not know the state of things," Neredos said dismissively. "Once I would have taken your council above any other; any other save the Lady Veil, that is. Do you not remember how many times her insight and wisdom led us to victory?" Neredos asked with a smile. "If she says that we wait, we wait. It is as simple as that."


    "Bureaucrats! All of you!" Prism shouted angrily.


    "You will watch your tone here, outlander," Grand Inquisitor Tibrae threatened dangerously, but Prism was already returning to his outer tranquility, using meditative breathing to calm himself. That didn''t seem to be enough for the Inquisitor however, who drew his sword and leveled it at Prism, his eyes glowing with zealous wrath.


    "Stand down," Neredos ordered, and after a brief hesitation Tibrae sheathed his sword, before Neredos continued in an annoyed tone, "Prism is welcome to speak his mind, though it will not change my decision." Prism closed his eyes as he accepted the news. "I will, however, prepare to meet Salidar on the battlefield," Neredos announced to looks of surprise amongst the guards. "He will move soon and we should be ready when he does. But we will not deploy our troops until it is time. Standard patrols only."


    "I will pass that along to the troops," Grand Inquisitor Tibrae agreed with a salute. Without another word on the matter, Neredos turned on his heel and left the room, the rest of his attendants¡ªother than Tibrae¡ªfollowing. "Inquisitor Alsha," Tibrae said, and the commander snapped to attention. "Your company will stand by as the first to deploy when Salidar makes his attempt."


    "Understood," she replied, saluting formally. Tibrae returned the gesture and then turned, following Neredos. As soon as he was gone she turned to the others and said, "Kirra, Prism, Styx, you should all come with me."


    "Yes Commander," Kirra replied with a nod.


    "If there is no other choice to be made," Prism growled as he turned toward the exit and started walking.


    "Prism!" Veil said pleadingly, causing Prism to glance back over his shoulder.


    "Veil, this time you have doomed us all," Prism said with deadly calm. "I pray to all the gods that ever were that you are right." Without another word he turned away from her and left the enclave as she watched with sorrowful eyes.


    "Lady Veil," Styx said with a weak smile and a half-hearted bow before hurrying after Prism. Veil smiled at him sadly, and though she still seemed as beautiful as she had when he had first met her, there was a difference he could not ignore. He no longer felt the peace he had felt before, and he couldn''t wait to leave the enclave.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 19: Familiar Secrets of the Past

    "By life itself!" Grim exclaimed in awe as they stepped into the room. "Do you know where we are, Dogo?"


    The supports for the tunnel they stood in had been set by an expert at the craft. As if the architecture wasn''t impressive enough on its own, the walls were decorated in intricate pictures depicting various scenes. The largest was of a bat-winged humanoid with two large horns extending out of the back of its skull, with an urn of water that it held upturned, with the water flowing out and becoming a great river. The two sides of the river were distinctly different from each other, with one showing cities and villages populated by cheering people, and the other side showed strange beasts who seemed to be cursing those on the other side. As Maxthane searched the beasts his eyes settled on one in particular; a large, bipedal creature with bull-like horns and four eyes. The resemblance to the demon that Maxthane had been bonded to was uncanny.


    "Enlighten me, Grim," Dogo replied. "I have no idea what this is, though it is certainly fascinating."


    "This is the lost Temple of Naxthul, the Shadowtide," Grim explained reverently, as he approached the painting and ran the fingers of his good arm gently across the surface.


    "Lost Temple of Naxthul?" Dogo asked, sharing a look with Maxthane who shrugged at the question. "What is Naxthul?"


    "He was once revered as the God of our world," Grim replied, resting his hand on the face of the bat-winged horned humanoid. "Before I became involved in the demon disaster, I studied ancient cultures extensively. Look here," he gestured to a portion of the painting that showed a humanoid figure standing at the base of a pillar, with several much smaller humanoid figures standing beside it. "I''m betting the golem down below us was protecting this place, possibly even from demons, if the rest of this picture is any indication. It was said that Naxthul became a god by fending off a demon invasion."


    "So this isn''t the first time that the demons have been to our world?" Dogo asked. "Why didn''t you bring that up sooner?"


    "This is the first time I''ve ever seen proof of it," Grim explained with a reverent sigh. "I searched for a long time to learn if it were true, but the location of the Temple eluded me for all of those years. To think it''s been here this whole time."


    "I''m just as surprised as you that this has been above my head my whole life without me knowing about it," Maxthane said in wonder, "I''ve never heard of Naxthul or anything like this place."


    "Before your time I suppose," Grim mumbled as he looked over the painting with a smile. "I wish we had the time to explore it more thoroughly . . ." he trailed off as his smile became sad before fading altogether. He composed himself and looked back at the group before clearing his throat and saying, "Let''s move on. We have no more time to waste."


    "Hang on," Maxthane said as Grim stepped away from the painting. "Let me take a look at that arm. I know a thing or two about healing."


    "I can take care of it myself," Grim replied simply, "but thank you."


    "Then why aren''t you?" Maxthane asked with a raised eyebrow.


    "We don''t really have time for this conversation," Grim replied with a frown and started walking away. Maxthane moved between him and the exit from the room, crossed his arms, and gave Grim a stubborn look. Grim sighed and said, "But I can see that you''re not going to drop it. I could heal the wound immediately," he explained with an impatient sigh, "but that takes more energy than healing it over time."


    "I could heal it right now if you''d let me look at it, and then you wouldn''t have to spend energy at all," Maxthane replied smugly. Dropping his hint of arrogance, he begged, "Come on, I''m sure you''ve helped everyone in this room, won''t you let me return the favor?"


    "How are you going to heal it?" Grim asked incredulously, "You''re not a Fedain . . ." Maxthane took the grimoire out from under his arm and a smile spread across Grim''s lips. "Ah, you know a Gor ritual," Grim said with a sudden smile. "Very well, I''ll let you give it a shot since you''re going to insist anyway."


    "All right," Maxthane said excitedly and withdrew ink and a brush from one of the deep pockets of his dhoti. He stepped up to Grim and grasped his arm as he continued, "Just let me inscribe a few quick runes and . . ."


    "Maxthane!" Grim shouted, pulling his arm back quickly in shock. His eyes were wide in wonder as he went on, "What! No, that''s impossible!"


    "What?" Maxthane asked with a puzzled expression, "What''s wrong?"


    "I could instantly sense it in you when you touched me. You do have Fedain blood!" Grim answered excitedly, "More importantly . . ."


    Whatever Grim had been about to say was interrupted by a surprised Maxthane. "What? How is that possible?" He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "My father told me that my mother was human!"


    "Well, maybe she had Fedain blood but wasn''t completely one of us. Maybe you''re a quarter blood," Grim offered with a shrug, though he didn''t sound convinced. "The important thing is that you actually can heal, directly. Here, let me teach you what you need to know."


    Grim guided a dumbfounded Maxthane''s hand back to his arm and began to explain the process behind Fedain healing. "You should be able to sense me entirely, even down to my emotions. This sensing is how we find injuries, and how serious they are."


    "Yes! Yes, I can!" Maxthane said excitedly, "Now that I think about it, I''ve always been able to sense things like that when I''ve touched people, but I just thought it was normal."


    "I can''t imagine what this must be like for you," Grim said with a smile, "I knew exactly what was happening from the time I was very little. Now that you can sense the injury in my arm, you need to talk to the cells in my body and ask them to work with you in fixing the damage."


    "Cells?" Maxthane asked, confused by the foreign term.


    "Those small pieces that make up everything in all of us," Grim explained patiently. "I spoke to you about them before. You need to speak with them by converting your emotions into signals that will tell them how to act. In this case you need to tell them how to fix the break in my bones."


    Maxthane focused inwardly and then into Grim''s arm. He could feel his own energy coursing through and from him as he willed the cells of Grim''s body to put themselves back in order. He shouted triumphantly as he sensed the bones knitting themselves back together, and then the tears in Grim''s flesh sealed shut. He pulled away when he was sure the process was done and looked at Grim with a pleased but slightly tired smile.


    "Now you''re officially a Fedain," Grim said with a satisfied nod. "You did good work for your first time, but you''ve probably been doing it to yourself your whole life without even realizing it. How many times can you remember being injured or sick?"


    "None," Maxthane replied without hesitation.


    "A Fedain has a natural ability to heal itself much faster than any other race; that ability is instinctive," Grim explained, nodding at Maxthane''s answer which he had expected. "Keep in mind that it will always require energy, and you can''t go too far without exhausting yourself. The reason why most Fedain tend to have shorter lives than humans is because we give up so much energy healing ourselves and others, and you have to be careful to limit how you use your gifts if you want to survive."


    Maxthane nodded, accepting the admonition. Grim turned back to the group, which had watched in stunned silence, and gestured with his now healed arm, saying, "Now, I think it''s time we moved on."


    Dogo nodded before gathering the group together again, and then led them through one of the two exits from the room. Their walk took them through a myriad of rooms that were just as impressive as the hall through which they had entered, and Grim glanced longingly at each of these. The glances lasted for only a few seconds before Grim would grit his teeth in determination, and look away, and continue following.


    The well-carved tunnels ended after the group walked through another grand hall. They entered a short earthen tunnel reinforced by a few wooden supports, leading to a small ladder that could take them upward. Dogo gestured toward the ladder and explained, "Up here is where we''ll enter the cellar of my house in Pentalus."


    "You have a house in Pentalus?" Maxthane asked in surprise. Shades did not have an easy time obtaining property in the surface city.


    "Be glad that I do," Dogo replied. "Now, let''s get up there and plan how we''re going to stop your father."


    The ladder led to a trap door that opened into a shallow cellar, the ceiling so low that they had to crouch in order to walk through and then up the small staircase that led to the next floor. The room that awaited them above had all the trappings of a home belonging to a rich merchant. The furniture was of fine quality, and expensive rugs covered the polished wooden floor. A spacious fireplace dominated one wall, with a large oil painting of an exotic vista hanging above the mantle.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "What a place, Dogo!" One of the gladiators exclaimed, clapping Dogo on the back as he stepped into the room. "You''ve done very well for yourself."


    "Thank you," Dogo replied graciously, then gestured toward the couches and said, "Please, make yourselves at home." As the gladiators and the two boatmen took his invitation and moved into the room, Dogo tapped Grim and Maxthane on their shoulders and said, "Come with me. We have more to discuss now that we''ve made it this far."


    Dogo led the two of them down a hallway and into a spacious study, with several cushioned chairs set around a central table. The table had several books laying on its surface, which had been pulled from the large shelves which stood against the wall. Maxthane had never thought of Dogo as being a cultured man, but the evidence was clear. Dogo settled easily into one of the three chairs, and gestured for Grim and Maxthane to take the remaining seats.


    Maxthane took his seat quickly, not wanting to disappoint his host, and Grim slid gracefully into another chair. It was as comfortable as it had appeared and was of the quality he was used to, but something felt wrong about it all. They were about to go to battle and this was no time to be sitting around, contemplating the softness of the cushions.


    Thankfully, Dogo went straight to the point and Maxthane was able to put his thoughts aside. "The first thing we need to know is how much time we have," Dogo said as he looked at Maxthane. "When do you think your father is going to act?"


    "I''m sure it will be sooner rather than later, though he''ll want to make sure that everything is in place before he does anything," Maxthane replied with confidence. He met Dogo''s eyes and explained, "He''s aware that Prism and Styx escaped, which means he will assume that they''ve managed to relay his plans to Neredos."


    "Everything is in place?" Grim asked. "What do you mean?"


    "Releasing the demons involves inscribing rune circles, an ancient form of Gor magic," Maxthane clarified. "He''ll need time to get those in place, especially since he will be doing it as subtly as he can manage."


    "How exactly is he going to be subtle about that?" Dogo asked. "I can''t think of a way in which you could get away with that. Most of the pillars are in public places, and someone would notice if they were doing something so obvious."


    "We developed a strategy to cope with that, and I wish I could say that I''m proud of it, considering it was my idea," Maxthane replied with a grimace. "We used chalk for the first demon we released, because it would wash away easily, but we needed something less likely to be scuffed by anyone walking over the surface. We decided to use ink, but the secret will be the delivery system."


    Maxthane glanced from Dogo to Grim to make sure they were following his explanation. "There are two separate methods we devised to inscribe the rune circles without easy detection," he explained slowly, "We settled on one, but I wouldn''t put it past my father to use the other if it came to it, so we need to watch for each."


    "So what are they?" Dogo asked impatiently when Maxthane took a breath.


    "I was getting to that," Maxthane replied. "One method we need to watch out for is the mages inscribing the circles by using cartridges of ink attached to the bottoms of their shoes. They''ve been practicing ever since we freed the first demon, and they may be hard to catch unless we''re close enough to the pillars to see them doing it."


    "I think they would be too obvious even if they have been practicing," Grim observed with a wry smile.


    "That was the consensus during our planning as well," Maxthane explained, "but if the situation requires it my father may fall back on that plan."


    "Noted," Dogo said with a nod. "Now what is the primary method your father will be using?"


    "Have you ever heard of familiars?" Maxthane asked with a smile.


    "I''m afraid not," Dogo replied, shaking his head.


    "Certainly," Grim answered, nodding emphatically. "They were once much more common than they are now. The practice fell out of use when people began to associate familiars with animal cruelty, even though normally there is no cruelty involved."


    "So what are they?" Dogo asked as he looked between the two.


    "It''s when a mage makes a blood pact with an animal through tattoo magic," Maxthane explained quickly. "It was the same process that we used to link me with the demon, but with a weaker willed animal like a cat or a bird, you could control the animal completely if you wanted to. It also tends to gain a bit of its master''s intelligence, eventually ending up smarter for its benefit from the deal."


    "How does that pertain to our current situation?" Dogo asked.


    "My father will be employing the mages'' familiars to inscribe the rune circles for them. The problem I see is that I''m the only one who knows which familiars to watch out for, and I don''t exactly blend in up here, nor can I be at every pillar. To the untrained eye they''ll just appear to be animals, albeit animals doing something strange."


    "That does pose a potential problem, though I suppose you could give us a quick course on what to look for," Dogo said, scratching his chin in contemplation. "Though your other point also bears consideration. I don''t exactly have the wardrobe to help everyone blend in. Grim can make do, and I certainly can, but the rest of our group are going to have to be careful and act as beggars." He smiled back at them as he suggested, "I recommend that we stick to the rooftops and alleyways to avoid detection until we have to move in."


    "But from that far away we''ll have a difficult time observing the pillars through the crowds," Maxthane protested. "We need to be closer if we want to catch the familiars in the act."


    "Grim and I can watch one pillar each," Dogo offered, "that has to be worth something. We can still use all the gladiators, too. Even as beggars they can blend into the crowds."


    "It won''t work." Grim stated. His abruptness drew surprised glances from Dogo and Maxthane. He was staring into the table as if searching the wooden surface for the answer to the problem and didn''t see their surprise.


    "What? Why not?" Dogo asked.


    "Dogo, have you forgotten that you and I are both well known amongst Salidar''s men?" Grim replied. "I''m the arena favorite, and you once were. The mages will recognize us immediately."


    "So what do we do?" Dogo let out a frustrated growl.


    "We could employ the same strategy and use familiars of our own to watch the pillars," Maxthane offered with an eager smile.


    "There are two problems with that idea," Dogo replied almost as soon as Maxthane finished his proposition. "First, we don''t have any familiars, and second, who is going to command them? You''re the only mage here."


    "There''s sure to be some animals in the city we could capture, and the link doesn''t have to be established with a mage. Anyone could be in command of the link. All we have to do is capture some animals, link them to the gladiators . . ." Maxthane stopped his excited rambling when Dogo raised his hand to stop him.


    "Whoa there, Maxthane," Dogo said with a supportive smile. "I hate to interrupt you but you''re getting way ahead of yourself here. We don''t have the time for any of that, not when your father could move at any second. We need something we can put into action right away."


    "Damn," Maxthane whispered as he let that thought sink in. "You''re right, but that brings us back to our first problem."


    Silence settled over them for several minutes until Dogo spoke up excitedly. "I''ve got it! We use children!"


    "I hardly think that turning children into familiars is an ethical action, Dogo," Grim replied dryly.


    "That isn''t what I meant, Grim," Dogo said with an annoyed glare. "I meant that we can use children to watch the pillars for us. Give them a little coin, and they''ll be happy to help. We can train them to watch for animals doing weird things, and that should be enough, right?"


    "That''s brilliant!" Maxthane agreed excitedly. "Then they can report back to us while we wait in the shadows. We can move in as soon as the kids tell us that someone or something has started drawing the rune circles."


    "Yes, that might work," Grim replied, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Good thinking," he added, looking up with a smile. "Now all we need is coin."


    "That is something I can provide," Dogo replied smugly, "provided Maxthane can show us which pillars are at risk."


    "Do you have a map of the city?" Maxthane asked before Dogo could even finish the thought. His question was met by Dogo''s cocky grin, which momentarily reminded Maxthane of Styx. Before he could analyze why, Dogo was standing and digging through the shelves along the wall. Books were tossed backward until Dogo grunted in triumph and returned to the table and unrolled a large map of Pentalus.


    "Unless my father has changed his mind, we have six pillars to worry about," Maxthane explained as he leaned over the map, searching for the landmarks that would give him the locations he was looking for. "We''ve had these picked out as of two days ago." He said as he pointed out six of the pillars. "Fasha and I helped my father determine which ones would make the best targets."


    "Excellent," Dogo said with confidence. He retrieved a quill and ink bottle from the desk in the corner of the room and marked the locations on the map. "I think we have our plan, then," he continued, "Grim, you and I will . . ."


    "Maxthane," Grim interrupted, "What role does Fasha have in this?" His tone was flat, but his eyes were full of concern.


    "What do you mean?" Maxthane asked cautiously. "He''s my father''s familiar."


    "Your father made a human his familiar?" Dogo asked.


    Before Maxthane could answer Grim continued, ignoring Dogo. "Maxthane, listen to me very carefully," he said in a commanding tone. "You need to find your father and help him. He''s in great danger."


    "Help Salidar?" Dogo asked incredulously. "We''re here to stop him! What are you saying, Grim?"


    "Maxthane," Grim said firmly, without even sparing Dogo a glance. "Fasha is not who you think he is. He is a demon of the worst sort. Your father thinks he can control him but he can''t. Your father is going to die if you don''t get to him in time, and as much as I hate to admit it, your father will serve our purposes better if he stays alive. Now where is he?"


    "My father said that Huzain Sabreeza''s guildhall was compromised, so he''d be working out of Sabreeza''s estate instead," Maxthane whispered. "We were going to orchestrate the entire strike from there."


    "Then what are you waiting for?" Grim asked while Maxthane sat in worried silence. "Go. We''ll handle the rest."


    Without any further hesitation Maxthane left the room and then the building, ignoring the inquisitive glances from the crowd of gladiators as he moved past. Once he was outside, he immediately went to the nearest alleyway to remain out of sight of the busy streets. It was midday, and though the light was never incredibly bright in Pentalus due to the clouds bearing up the Everbright City above he was disoriented by what light there was.


    He tried to get his bearings but then realized that he had no idea what part of the city he was in. Cursing himself for forgetting to ask Dogo for directions before he left, he considered turning back but then he saw a landmark that he remembered from one of his earlier surface excursions. It was a bronze statue depicting King Neredos in all his glory, triumphant in his victory over the demons. Maxthane almost chuckled as he saw the symbol which his father had taught him to view with anger, for when he looked at it now the statue filled him with hope. It was funny to him how much his perspective had changed over the past few days. He left the plaza and continued on his way, keeping that thought with him.


    The closer he came to Sabreeza''s estate, the more he started to feel the urgency that Grim had expressed. No matter how much he wanted to believe in the symbol of hope that Neredos provided he knew that something terrible was coming, and it would be more than simply a few demons finding freedom. He knew that somehow his world was about to change forever.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 20: Faith Has Wings

    "Prism! Please, wait!" Styx finally caught up to Prism in front of the barracks. Since Prism was not a member of the Knights, he could not pass the guards on his own and instead he stopped in front of the building and glared at it. He turned around at the sound of Styx''s voice, carrying the glare with him, which stopped Styx in his tracks.


    "Styx, there''s nothing more to talk about," Prism said in a flat tone, though his entire body was quivering with rage. "There''s nothing to be done."


    It was then that Kirra caught up to them, but before he could say anything Styx turned to him quickly and said, "Kirra, could you give us some room please?"


    "If you want me to," Kirra replied, hurt by the request. "But before I do, I want to say something."


    "All right," Styx agreed with a slight inclination of his head, "Go ahead."


    "I''m against anything that might bring harm to the people of Pentalus," Kirra began as he turned to Prism. He was expressionless as he added, "And a rebellion is the last thing we need right now."


    "So, you''re saying that you agree with the bureaucrats?" Prism growled as his voice began to rise.


    "Normally I would," Kirra went on quickly before Prism could react, "but every instinct I have is telling me that you''re right about this. If it were in my power to help you, I would."


    Prism visibly calmed down as he replied with his usual reservation. "Thank you, Kirra. I believe you''re sincere but unfortunately the three of us can''t do much about it." With a dismissive gesture he added, "Unless your superiors choose to act, we can''t stop this."


    Kirra sighed and said, "If there''s anything you can think of that might help, you have my support." Prism nodded and Kirra bowed before stepping back from them. Styx smiled at him weakly before moving closer to Prism, and gesturing toward a nearby plaza with a bench for them to sit on.


    Kirra maintained his distance as he followed them to the plaza and then stopped when they took their seat, glancing between them and back toward the barracks. When Prism was satisfied that Kirra would remain there he turned to Styx and asked with a puzzled expression, "Why did you want him to leave?"


    "Because I needed to talk to you alone," Styx replied, shrugging. "I wish we could trust him, but I can''t know for certain, even after what he said a second ago."


    "I think if there is anyone in this city we can trust, it''s him, but I understand your caution," Prism replied with a sage nod. "I''ve had my expectations turned upside down recently, and today was the worst of all of it. I wish Kirra''s Gor heritage was enough for me to trust him, as it would have been eight hundred years ago."


    "Kirra''s a Gor?" Styx asked in surprise.


    "You never noticed the points on his ears, or his unusual eye color?" Prism asked in surprise, and Styx shrugged as if he couldn''t see the relevance. "Clear indicators of his heritage," Prism remarked with a quirky smile, "if Gor were still common . . ." He trailed off with bitterness in his eyes.


    "I just thought he was unique," Styx replied as he glanced back at Kirra, taking in his attractive appearance. There was certainly something different about him, he realized now; Kirra''s ears were certainly pointier than Styx had first realized, and his violet eyes seemed to sparkle in the bright sunlight. Styx had been too distracted by his attraction to realize Kirra wasn''t entirely human. Until Prism had said so Styx hadn''t even been aware that it was possible to mix human and Gor blood. Not that it mattered. Styx could no longer deny that he had fallen for Kirra, and no matter what else he learned about him, he didn''t think his feelings would change.


    "Oh, he''s certainly that," Prism observed, drawing Styx''s attention back to him. When Styx realized that Prism had caught him staring, he blushed deeply. "You like him, don''t you?" Prism asked with a sly smile.


    "How did you know?" Styx asked while he tried in vain to stifle his embarrassment.


    "Love is easy to recognize from the outside," Prism explained with a shrug, "Though impossible to understand regardless of the angle you view it from."


    "Do you have a saying for everything?" Styx asked dryly.


    Instead of answering Styx''s sarcasm, Prism''s face grew more serious. He looked away, his eyes resting on a statue that sat in the middle of the plaza. "In Ultaka," he said at length, "When two men loved as you do, they were put to death."


    "Are you saying you disapprove?" Styx asked, surprised that Prism would offer such an opinion.


    Prism shook his head and smiled supportively. "Morality becomes unimportant when faced with total annihilation. At that point, people are willing to do anything to survive. I spent most of my life facing annihilation, and I can tell you that the many people who died fighting alongside me were all the same. We wanted to survive. We wanted our people to survive. It was the love of our people that kept us united; kept us fighting to the end." He turned to Styx and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. After glancing in Kirra''s direction, he went on. "Morality also becomes unimportant when faced with true love. I had many good friends who loved as you do, and they fought just as hard as I did. We are no different in spirit, Styx, so what gives me grounds to judge you?"


    Styx nodded slowly as he let the words sink in. He had never even thought that his feelings might be wrong and was glad that Prism wasn''t challenging that belief. His support was still important, however, and the advice in Prism''s words helped him understand his heart a little better. He needed to listen to his heart, regardless of what it told him.


    Prism gave him a moment to think it over before bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. "But that isn''t what you wanted to talk about, is it?"


    "No, but thank you," Styx replied sincerely. "It actually helps put a few things in perspective for me."


    Prism smiled and squeezed his shoulder again, and Styx knew it was time to move on. "Tell me what''s going on," Styx said firmly, looking Prism in the eye.


    "I''m afraid I don''t know what you mean. Perhaps you can give me something more to go on?"


    "In the short time I''ve known you, I have never seen you angry until earlier today. Annoyed yes, but angry?" Styx shook his head as he continued, "I get the impression it doesn''t happen very often. I''d like to know why you were."


    "Why was I angry?" Prism replied, a hint of the mentioned emotion touching his voice. "No, ''why am I angry'' is what you mean. I''m simply repressing it now. I can''t control how I feel any more than anyone else can, but normally I can stop it from controlling how I act. Do you realize what is about to happen?" He asked incredulously. His next words showed that it was not Styx he was questioning but the situation. "Everything we worked for is about to come undone because they''re afraid of losing their image. It''s preposterous!"


    "No, it''s more than that," Styx countered, "This is personal."


    "You''re right, it is," Prism agreed. "I''m not ashamed to admit that. These people were my closest friends, Styx. I knew them better than I knew anyone. This isn''t how things are supposed to be."


    Prism clenched his fists as he went on bitterly, "Neredos has been corrupted, and I fear that Veil has as well, though I can''t tell for certain. Her concern may be genuine but . . ." he trailed off and shook his head in disbelief. "These were people I served with, that I fought alongside to end the demon invasion, but it seems as if they have become demons themselves . . ." It seemed to Styx that Prism had more to say, but that Prism''s reservation had regained control again and stopped his tirade. Styx wished he could bring some comfort to him, but he didn''t know what he could possibly do to help his friend''s turmoil.


    "So what can we do?" Styx asked instead.


    "Nothing, at least not right now," Prism replied, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I''m afraid that there is little we can do except wait, but I guess we can plan for the inevitable."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Listen closely, Styx. I think my time is running out," Prism explained in a quiet voice just above a whisper. "Eventually they will find a way to dispose of me, if I even survive this next battle. If that happens, you have to figure out a way to stop the demons, for the good of the world."


    "Me?" Styx replied in surprise. "What do I know? I have no experience in things like this!"


    "Neither did the rest of us when the demons invaded," Prism replied with a smirk. "We were infantile in our understanding then, and because of the knowledge that Neredos has kept from the world, we are infantile once again."


    He met Styx''s eyes as he asked, "Do you realize that you are among a handful of humans still alive who have ever fought a demon?"


    "When you put it that way I suppose you have a point," Styx admitted in a whisper. "But what am I supposed to do? And what are you talking about dying for? You''re the most capable fighter I''ve ever seen!"


    "No one lives forever, Styx," Prism replied cryptically, and shrugged as if there wasn''t anything else to say on that particular point. Instead he answered Styx''s first question, "Fight as hard as you can for as long as you can. There is another war brewing, and I fear that the demons will all be unleashed again. It will be up to the youth of this world to win that war, for only they have the strength to keep fighting for as long as it takes. It will be up to you, and others like you, who have the will to survive." Glancing back at Kirra standing apart from them he added, "I''m sure you will have the support of Kirra, and maybe you could even recruit Maxthane to the cause. I do not think he has his father''s heart, regardless of what he may have done. They will help you, but if you need direction there is someone you can go to."


    "Grim?" Styx asked, sure that was the answer. "You knew each other from before, and he is certainly a capable fighter."


    "Grim''s path is his own, I''m afraid," Prism replied, shaking his head. "He is on the road to something just as important as the task I am charging you with. Perhaps he can aid you for a short time," he conceded, "but you cannot rely on him."


    "Then who?" Styx asked in exasperation. "If you''re de . . . not around, and Neredos and Veil are corrupted, who else is left?"Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "There is a book in Maxthane''s possession that holds the answer. It''s the same one that contained the ritual by which I was freed," Prism explained, while Styx nodded slowly, trying to follow along. "I knew as soon as I saw it that I recognized it from somewhere. The woman who wrote it was also with us at the demon gate, and I doubt that she has succumbed to the ravages of time; primal energy flows too strongly through her veins. Seek out the sorceress Ghayle, Queen of the Gor."


    "I didn''t know that the Gor had royalty," Styx replied in wonder. "As far as I knew they were just wild tribes living in the forests and the highlands far to the north. They''ve always seemed quite primitive to me."


    "Then things have changed," Prism said with a shrug. "I''m starting to get used to that, but that doesn''t mean the Ghayle is no longer with us. She always had a means of staying alive. If you need help she''ll be the one to turn to."


    "And what if she became corrupted like the others?"


    "Ghayle was corrupted before the demons even invaded, and she will be until she is destroyed, but she''ll never be corrupted in the same way as Neredos," Prism answered with a wry chuckle. "She cares little for the material things of men. She was primal and ferocious, and just as deadly as any force of nature you could imagine."


    "Sounds like someone I would want to avoid, not seek out," Styx muttered dryly.


    "If that is what you decide," Prism replied, but his tightlipped smile told Styx that he doubted that would be the case. "When the fate of the world rests on your shoulders, you''ll be a lot more willing to take risks, I''d imagine."


    "The fate of the world resting on my shoulders?" Styx repeated, and he shuddered at the thought. "I don''t think I can take it."


    "It doesn''t matter if you can handle it or not," Prism replied smoothly, "it will still be your responsibility."


    "Then I guess I''ll need all the help I can get," Styx said with a sigh.


    "You will surprise yourself by what you can accomplish when you are forced to act," Prism replied with a chuckle. "Sometimes not even death can stop you."


    "But you think it''s going to stop you," Styx replied with a frown.


    "Styx . . ." Prism hesitated before going on sagely, "Death is the only sure thing in life. I''ve avoided it long enough, and it''s about time it caught up to me.


    "How can you speak so casually about it?" Styx asked incredulously. "Most people fear death."


    "I never said that I didn''t fear it," Prism corrected, "I simply accept it, and you would do well to do the same when the time comes. When I die, Styx, don''t mourn me. Don''t waste your time with the dead; they are no longer of use to you once they''re gone. Carry their lessons with you and not the burden of that which you cannot change."


    Styx sat back and thought about that admonition. He had been around death his whole life, but he had never been through the pain of losing someone close to him. Until recently the number of people he counted as close could have been counted on one hand if he was missing three fingers. Prism had managed to become close to him in record breaking time, and Styx didn''t think he''d be able to avoid mourning when the man died.


    "Bring Kirra back over here," Prism said, after a moment of silence, inclining his head back in Kirra''s direction. "You have to start trusting people sometime," he explained with a smile, "I think he''s as good as anyone to begin with."


    Styx nodded and rose to his feet before walking to where Kirra was standing. He stared into Kirra''s eyes as he approached, and could feel the question in his gaze. Kirra wanted to know what they were talking about, but he had shown them respect by not trying to eavesdrop and Styx had to give him credit for that. "Kirra, Prism would like you to join us," Styx said, and his heart skipped a beat as Kirra''s eyes lit up at the request.


    Kirra nodded and followed Styx back to the bench. While Styx sat, Kirra stood before them and looked at Prism expectantly. He didn''t have to wait long for Prism to speak. "You said that we have your support," Prism said without preamble, "Do you stand by that statement?"


    "Yes," Kirra replied firmly. "Definitely."


    "I have a request for you," Prism said as he met Kirra''s eyes. "I want you to stay with Styx regardless of what happens, even if it means leaving the Order."


    "That''s a pretty hefty request," Kirra replied, whistling through his teeth. "I know I said that I''d do anything, but could you at least tell me why?"


    "If we fail to stop Salidar from releasing the demons then we may be at the brink of war," Prism explained. "I''m afraid the old bureaucrats won''t know what to do in that situation, which means that the world will rely on those with the willingness to take action."


    "What does that have to do with Styx?" Kirra asked in confusion. "No offense to you," he added with an apologetic glance at Styx, "but you aren''t much of a fighter. What exactly do you have planned?"


    "It''s not his ability as a fighter that I''m concerned with," Prism answered, "it''s his will to survive. That will grant him the strength to do what is necessary, I''m sure of it."


    "You''re putting an awful lot of faith in me," Styx mumbled, but both Kirra and Prism heard the remark and turned on him. Before either of them could address his comment, Styx''s eyes lit up as an idea struck him, "You want to get down there as soon as you can, right?"


    "That would be preferable," Prism agreed. "We don''t know when Salidar is going to make his move, but we can''t sit and wait around for it."


    "I have an idea," Styx replied with a smile.


    "What''s your plan?" Kirra asked. Before Styx could reply Fenri came running toward them from the direction of the barracks.


    "Kirra!" the Knight shouted, drawing their attention. "The company is mobilizing for deployment," he explained breathlessly. "Prism and Styx, you are coming with us. We''ll be waiting to descend as soon as we receive word that Salidar has made his move."


    "We should move now," Prism muttered, drawing concerned looks from Styx and Kirra.


    "I''m sorry," Fenri replied with a shrug, "orders are orders."


    They followed Fenri at a quick pace until they reached the edge of the clouds that the city rested upon. There was a contingent of Knights a hundred strong, waiting for them with their giant eagle mounts. Lady Alsha was positioned at their head, going over a map of Pentalus with several other Knights of a rank just below her own.


    "Why are we just sitting here?" Prism growled, glaring at Alsha. If his clenched fists were any indication he was once again having trouble containing his anger at the situation. Kirra shook his head helplessly and beckoned for Styx to follow him to his eagle before turning his back on the pair and heading in that direction himself.


    But Styx had other ideas. "Prism, follow me," he whispered to Prism as soon as Kirra was no longer facing them. Prism nodded and fell into step behind Styx as he started walking toward the edge of the clouds. As soon as Styx noticed one of the Knights had seen his intended path he dashed forward quickly, running for the edge with all the speed he could muster. Prism kept pace with him easily, and they were soon running side by side.


    "What the hell is he thinking!?" Styx heard one of the Knights shout as they rushed past. The cry was joined by another Knight who shouted, "Is he trying to kill himself?"


    The sound of flapping wings alerted Styx that one of the eagles was following them, and the familiar voice of its rider told him that he needed to increase his speed even further. "Styx, what are you doing!?" Kirra shouted, and Styx willed his feet to go even faster.


    "Prism, hold on to me!" Styx shouted. As soon as he felt Prism grasp his arm he let out a primal yell and flung himself from the edge of the clouds, brushing the tattoo on his cheek as he went over. In the same motion he flipped himself around and wrapped his arms and legs around Prism, holding him tight as they began to fall toward Pentalus below them.


    The tattoo slowed their descent dramatically, but Prism''s weight dragged them down quicker than Styx was used to. Prism was considerably heavier than Styx would have thought from his slim but muscular frame, and he started to wonder if jumping with Prism had been a good idea and if they would end up crashing into the city at too high a velocity.


    "Styx!" someone shouted from above them. Styx was pretty certain it was Kirra, but with Prism pulling him down he couldn''t turn to see if he was right. An eagle screeched beside them and he looked over to see Kirra flying past, diving to get below them. As much as he wanted to ensure that they landed safely, his plan would work better if he did it on his own. He couldn''t rely on Kirra to save them or the other Knights might not be coerced to take action. Using the knowledge he had gained from his years of gliding through The Shade, he tweaked their bodies to change their trajectory, and while Kirra moved into a position where he thought he could catch them, he instead found them falling past him.


    Kirra attempted to move into position again and once more Styx angled them in a different descent, refusing to be caught. He noted the look of frustration on Kirra''s face as they passed him, but Styx wasn''t about to let that get to him. He was determined to see this through to the end.


    "We''re going too fast," Prism said suddenly, and Styx looked down into his face, trying to keep his own concern about their speed out of his expression. "I''m too heavy," Prism observed.


    "We''ll make it," Styx said with as much confidence as he could manage. This just earned him a patient smile from Prism who shook his head in response.


    "No, we won''t," Prism replied firmly, "You''re going to have to let me go. Just do it a second before we hit the ground. I''ll be able to manage, and that way you will too."


    "But . . ." Styx protested.


    "No time for that," Prism snapped back firmly, "Release me when we''re about to hit."


    Styx nodded and watched the approaching rooftops, waiting for the right moment. He couldn''t hesitate or neither one of them would walk away from the impact. A couple seconds before he was about to hit he disentangled himself from Prism and launched himself away, allowing his tattoo to take over fully and slow his descent a touch more before he hit the rooftop below him. Once he made contact with the tiled rooftop he rolled into the impact, absorbing some the momentum until he completed his roll by landing hard on his back. The collision knocked the wind out of him, but he knew that he had managed to avoid any serious damage. Nothing was broken, and in a few seconds he was able to get up on his knees, wheezing as he forced air back into his lungs.


    Prism had fared far better, even though he had hit the rooftop at a faster speed. He had rolled gracefully, absorbing nearly all of the momentum into his forward spin. He walked over to Styx and extended his hand to help him to his feet. Only after they were both standing did Kirra''s eagle land on the rooftop and a very angry knight stepped off of his mount to approach them.


    "What kind of stunt was that?" Kirra growled at Styx. "You could have been killed!"


    "Looks like it worked," Styx replied smugly as he glanced upward. The other two followed his gaze to see that the Knights were leaving the clouds above them. If nothing else, apparently his stunt had convinced them to come to his rescue.


    "You''re right, the Knights are moving!" Prism observed with a triumphant shout, clapping Styx on the shoulder. "All we can do is hope that we were quick enough."


    "You mean you did that just to draw us out?" Kirra asked with a hint of anger, "You could have told me!"


    Styx was shaking his head before Kirra even finished the sentence and then replied, "No, your reaction had to be genuine if we wanted the Knights to follow. I''m sorry, but I couldn''t do it any other way."


    Kirra looked as if he were going to remain angry until he sighed and said, "All right, I suppose I can''t blame you since it got us the result we were after. There''s only one problem I see now." Patting his eagle fondly he went on, "Saiyo here can only support one other person than me. If we need to move again quickly I can only take one of you."


    "Take Styx," Prism said with a smile, "It looks like my ride is coming down anyway." They followed his gaze upward to see that one of the eagles was headed their way, diving toward them with incredible speed. Styx nodded to Prism and then stepped toward Kirra''s eagle. Kirra gave him a boost to the eagle''s back and then climbed up in front of Styx and directed him to hang on.


    "Are you ready for this?" Kirra asked, after Styx wrapped his arms around Kirra''s waist. Styx''s grip was strong, but there was a great deal of tension in his arms.


    "I don''t know," Styx replied, trailing off as he considered the question. "To be honest, I''m actually pretty scared."


    "Me too," Kirra admitted in a whisper, though he made sure it was loud enough for Styx to hear. "What if we don''t make it in time and the demons are freed?" He wondered aloud as he shuddered at the thought. "I''ve never seen a demon before, but the tales don''t exactly put them in the best of light."


    "They''re not pleasant," Styx replied, feeling the shudder and responding with one of his own. "At least not the one that I fought."


    "You haven''t told me about what happened with that," Kirra replied, glancing over his shoulder.


    "Kirra . . ." Styx began, not knowing what to say. He wanted to answer the unspoken question, but he knew that this wasn''t the time or the place. He let his sarcasm take control instead and explained dryly, "You and I have only known each other for a little more than a day. It''s not as if I''ve had the time to tell you my life''s story."


    "I''m sorry," Kirra replied with an apologetic smile, "You''re right. Let''s focus on making it through the day, all right? And then we can have all the time we need to get to know each other."


    "I''d like that," Styx said sincerely as he leaned closer in, hugging tight against Kirra''s back. Kirra didn''t have long to bask in the feeling, for a moment later the sound of wings alerted him that the other eagle and its Knight had arrived.


    Fenri alighted onto the rooftop beside them and said with a sense of urgency, "There''s fighting in the streets to the east, Shades fighting Shades!"


    "It''s already begun," Prism said with a look of horror. "We need to get over there, now!"


    "Climb up, let''s go!" Fenri shouted, but Prism was already hoisting himself into Fenri''s saddle before the words had even left his mouth. A second later they were off, and Styx and Kirra launched into the air after them. As they flew toward the battle, Styx hoped that they were not already too late.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 21: Sins of the Father

    The view from the rooftop of Sabreeza''s estate was better than Salidar had expected, and he could easily see each pillar that they had marked for release, filling him with eager anticipation. It was time to bring about the fall of the Radiant Tyrant.


    He glanced toward Fasha and grinned, receiving a sinister smile from Fasha in response. He was pleased to share this moment with someone he trusted as much as he did Fasha, even though he wished that Maxthane had seen the light and joined them. Maxthane would come around eventually, once he saw that there was nothing to worry about; Salidar only had to be patient.


    The sound of footsteps drew Salidar''s attention to the staircase that ran up the outside wall of the estate. The soldier who arrived at the top was dressed in the local fashion of Pentalus, and gave Salidar a quick salute before gasping, "Everyone is in place,"


    "Very good," Salidar said with a slight nod. Despite his excitement about the coming release of the demons, outward appearances still needed to be maintained. "Give the order to begin then," He commanded before turning his attention back to the skyline of Pentalus.


    After another quick salute, the soldier was back on his way to relay the order and Salidar let his eager grin return. The plan was foolproof, at least as long as the Knights didn''t decide to rush in sooner than expected. Fasha had assured him that contingency had been taken care of, and Salidar had never been given a reason to doubt his claims. There would not be any interference from the Knights until it was too late.


    They had decided to use familiars to inscribe the rune circles. Through blood pacts, the mages would command their animal companions to exactness, making sure that each detail was in place before they began the summonings. The animals likely would not attract attention and would complete their jobs without anyone knowing what was happening. Once the circles were inscribed, the mages would step in and utter the words that would activate the circles and free the demons.


    The next stage would be trickier. There would be little margin for error, for if they failed the demons would remain unchecked. His soldiers were hidden amongst the crowds of citizens, waiting until the demons were freed. The soldiers were tasked with capturing the demons so that they could be blood-pacted to the mages who freed them. It would be up to his mages to ensure that the demons were bent to Salidar''s will.


    Several of his soldiers would serve as runners, moving amongst the different sites and the estate to give him reports on the progress at the various pillars. He glanced down to the street as one of those messengers approached the building, arriving earlier than Salidar had anticipated, which more than likely meant that something was not going according to plan. The soldier climbed the stairs to the rooftop, taking them two at a time before relaying his message between breaths. "We may have a problem," the soldier reported, without taking the time to salute.


    "Speak up," Salidar ordered impatiently. "What''s happening?"


    "It appears that we''re being watched," the messenger explained as quickly as he could manage. "There have been children keeping an eye on our pillars, and it seems like more than just a passing curiosity."


    "Pay them to leave us alone," Salidar said dismissively. "I''m not convinced that they''re involved, but if anyone hired them I''m sure they didn''t pay much. It doesn''t take a lot to please a child. Give them whatever they want, and they''ll obey you. Go."


    "As you command," the messenger replied breathlessly, and with another quick salute he was gone, trotting back toward his post. Salidar watched him go and hoped that there wouldn''t be any more trouble.


    Unfortunately it was not to be, and within a few minutes all six posts reported that there were children watching them. He gave the same orders to each post, thinking it would be more than enough to solve the problem, but he didn''t like the implications of the discovery. It made sense that if Prism had managed to relay a message about Salidar''s plans, that the pillars might end up being watched, but if that were the case the pillars wouldn''t have been watched by children; they would use Knights. No, this was a covert operation from some other group, and the fact that all six pillars were being watched meant that someone with knowledge of their targets had leaked the information.


    Originally, only four people had knowledge of which pillars had been chosen. Salidar eyed Fasha suspiciously out of the corner of his eye, wondering briefly if he had been the one to betray him, but there was nothing to support that theory. If Fasha wanted to betray him, he simply wouldn''t have used his influence to stop the Knights from coming after him. Captain Rega was a possibility, but a highly unlikely one, as it was Rega''s soldiers who were telling him the pillars were being watched. That left him with only one person who could have committed this treason against him, but he didn''t want to consider it. Maxthane had opposed this endeavor, but he was still in The Shade. If he had come to the surface, then Salidar''s soldiers watching the entrances to Pentalus would have told him.


    But who else was there? The mages and soldiers had only been informed of their assigned pillars that morning. He doubted that any of them would have had the time to betray him by informing anyone. None of the possibilities made sense, and it was a puzzle he would have to solve when this was over. They were too far into the plan to stop now, whether they were being watched or not.


    Footsteps from below alerted him that one of his messengers was returning, this time at an expected time. He looked over just as the messenger reached the top of the stairs and gave him a salute. Salidar eyed him expectantly, and the messenger hastened to give his report. "No one else has noticed us yet. The circles are being drawn."


    "Have the mages begin the unbinding as soon as they are able," Salidar ordered. He was unable to contain his excitement any longer as he added, "We''re so close I can taste it." With another salute the man was gone, and Salidar returned to watching the pillars.


    One by one his messengers arrived with the same message, each successive report causing his grin to spread wider across his face. The grin persisted until footsteps returned for another time, and Salidar turned in surprise to see that, instead of a messenger, it was Maxthane who stood before him.


    "Son!" Salidar exclaimed in a mixture of astonishment and delight. He was initially glad to see that Maxthane had decided to join him, but then he remembered his earlier suspicion about a traitor in his midst, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "What are you doing here?"


    "Father!" Maxthane replied breathlessly. He glanced at Fasha who was eyeing him with suspicion to match Salidar''s. "I have to talk to you."


    "If you''re here to make a final plea to stop, you''ll be wasting your breath," Salidar replied, staring hard at Maxthane. "I''m not backing down."


    "No, this is about something else," Maxthane said, with another glance at Fasha. Salidar recognized the gesture for what it was. Maxthane was anxious, and it involved Fasha.


    "Fasha, would you mind waiting downstairs for the time being?" Salidar ordered more than he asked. The assassin bowed and left them alone, giving Maxthane an amused glance as he passed by. As soon as Fasha was out of earshot Salidar crossed his arms and asked, "What is this about, son? Have you come to join me?"


    "No," Maxthane answered firmly. "I''m trying to save you."


    "Save me from what?" Salidar asked dangerously.


    "You''re in danger," Maxthane replied with a pleading look in his eyes. "You can''t trust Fasha."


    "What?" Salidar asked. He instinctively tested the blood pact he had with Fasha just to make sure it was still intact. Finding no change in the link he sneered at his son and asked, "And why should I trust you? You''re the one that hired the kids to watch the pillars, aren''t you? Did you sell me out to the Knights as well?"


    Maxthane''s look of guilt gave him away. He had never been able to lie to his father when he was asked a direct question, and this was no different. Salidar growled at his son and started toward him angrily while Maxthane threw up his hands in surrender and said, "I admit that I was involved in hiring the kids, but I did not sell you out to the Knights. I came because Grim said you were in direct danger, despite me knowing that you would have a hard time believing me."


    "Grim? The gladiator?" Salidar asked with wide eyes. "Is he here too?"


    "Yes," Maxthane replied, "I freed him and the rest of the fighters."


    His honesty only served to fuel Salidar''s wrath. Salidar took several quick steps toward his son and backhanded him hard across the face, sending him tumbling backward. Raising his hand to strike Maxthane again, he stopped when he saw the pleading look in his son''s eyes, but there was something even stronger that he could not ignore. Maxthane''s eyes were filled with determination and defiance; he was no longer cowed by his father''s wrath.


    And, as he was no longer under Salidar''s control, Salidar didn''t know how to handle that. On the one hand he knew that his son had finally become a man, but on the other hand Maxthane had betrayed him utterly. But could he destroy that man simply because he disagreed with him? The ends justified the means, but there could be no end for Maxthane that would not bring Salidar more pain.


    Salidar sent a silent order to Fasha, before he stepped away from his son without another word. Fasha came up behind Maxthane and pulled him to his feet, then quickly restrained him with a knife set against his throat. There would be time for Maxthane''s punishment to be dealt with later, when they were finished with the demons. He put Maxthane out of his mind and gazed back out at the skyline of Pentalus. It wouldn''t be long until the skyline was a bit thinner as the pillars began to disappear, and with them Neredos'' reign.


    ~ ~ ~ ~


    The bustling plaza was one of the most famous locales in all of Pentalus. Not only was it the site of the largest demon pillar in the city, but a great marketplace had been established at the base of the pillar of grey fog, making it the focal point of commerce in the city. Grim watched the pillar with a sense of reserved dread, knowing that if they failed in their task then a great number of people were going to die.


    For Grim, the demon''s release would mean a return of scenes he had hoped to never revisit. He knew exactly which demon was held inside of this pillar, and how dangerous the beast was. Of all the pillars that Salidar intended to open, this was the demon they had to prevent from being freed, at all costs.


    Grim had insisted they set up in the alleyways that fed into the plaza. They had found children to watch the pillars like Dogo had suggested, and had used the fastest runners amongst the kids for the targets further away. If any of those demons were freed first then Dogo would send some of the gladiators, but no matter what happened elsewhere their focus would remain here.


    "Look, Grim," Dogo said, gesturing toward the plaza. "It''s one of the kids." Grim''s eyes were immediately drawn to the boy, who appeared to be around the age of twelve. His skin was dirty and his hair and clothes were unkempt, allowing him to fit in easily among the Shades, were it not for his sun-browned skin. Dogo turned to question the boy, whose gait showed a great deal of urgency. "What''s happening?"Stolen novel; please report.


    "You were right," the boy said, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "They''re definitely doing something at the pillar. They just paid us to go away."


    "And you took their money?" Dogo asked.


    "Hey," the boy replied defensively, "I came and told you, didn''t I?"


    "I wasn''t angry," Dogo replied with a disarming grin. "I was commending you. You did the right thing." The boy beamed at Dogo''s approving grin, and even more when Dogo tossed another coin his way. "Hang tight for a second, kid."


    Dogo turned back to Grim and said, "I think we need to follow him back to the pillar he was watching and take out the mage now."


    "Are you sure?"


    "Grim, if they''re paying off the kids that means they''re about to move. We''ve got them." With a confident grin Dogo insisted, "By the time we show up, they should be in the middle of the ritual, and we''ll take them by surprise."


    "You have a point, but what about the other pillars?" Grim asked, glancing back at the large pillar in the center of the nearby plaza. "If those children were bought off, then we won''t know they''re acting until it''s too late." Dogo looked as if he were about to protest when Grim nodded toward the kid and said, "You go with the kid and take some of the men with you, I''ll stay here with the rest of the group."


    Dogo nodded his assent and said, "Agreed. Be careful, Grim."


    "Good luck, Dogo," Grim said before waving him away.


    Dogo motioned for five of the gladiators to follow him and then asked the boy to lead them to the pillar he had been watching. And then he was gone, leaving Grim to watch the pillar again, hoping that they would still catch some sign of the mages before it was too late.


    "Maybe we can figure it out without the kids," one of the gladiators said, as she joined Grim at the mouth of the alleyway. He turned to see Haeli, a woman whom he had always had profound respect for. She was a survivor who had always done well in the arena; a place normally dominated by men. He regarded her curiously now, waiting for her to elaborate. Haeli gazed out into the crowded square and explained, "If they''re controlling the animals like you and Dogo explained they would be, then that would require a certain level of focus, wouldn''t it?"


    "So we need to find the person that''s as centered on the pillar as we are," Grim answered, seeing her logic. "He''ll be hidden amongst the crowd, perhaps sitting on a bench with a good view of the pillar. Do you think you can blend in with these people? At least for a moment?"


    "What do you have in mind?" Haeli asked with an eager grin. Grim had always loved that Haeli was prepared to do whatever was necessary, even though her pale complexion and dirty appearance was sure to mark her as a Shade to anyone who took the time to look at her, especially those who knew the meaning of the Shadesight tattoo over her right eye.


    "You and I are going to go out there and look for the mage," Grim explained as he inclined his head toward the marketplace, "While the rest of our group waits here to move in if the demon is freed."


    "What do I do if I find him?" Haeli asked, though her wicked grin said that she already knew the answer.


    Grim answered the question anyway, knowing that speaking the thought out loud would strengthen his own resolve. "Stop him by whatever means necessary." Turning back to the other gladiators he added, "The rest of you, watch for us and move in if we need help."


    They moved out into the crowds, merging with the throng and blending in the best they could. Grim moved in one direction as Haeli took the other, to cover more ground. Grim was halfway to the opposite side of the square when he saw an older man standing beside a market stall. His pallor and Shadesight tattoo marked him as a Shade, though the yellow robes hemmed with red identified him as a member of a prominent religious sect that was popular in Pentalus. The Order of the Rising Sun was comprised of worshippers of King Neredos, and it was the perfect cover for a man who wished to overthrow the King.


    But that didn''t make him the man Grim was looking for. He seemed too distracted by the nearby throng to have the focus necessary to inscribe a rune circle, though he was likely still working for Salidar, potentially with the mission of protecting the mage. Following that thought process Grim moved into a position where he could see everything that the robed man could, hoping he would find the mage in his field of vision.


    Shouting at the opposite end of the plaza alerted him that Haeli had been noticed, and cries of "Shade!" erupted from around him. He hoped that Haeli would be able to avoid any more trouble, but he also couldn''t spend the time to go to her aid and instead, using the distraction to his advantage to home in on the only person not taking note of the uproar.


    His eyes settled on a man sitting behind a stall, one with low quality wares that no one spared a second glance. Grim moved forward as the man raised his hand to touch the tattoo of a bird on his face, just beneath his Shadesight tattoo. This was the mage; Grim was sure of it.


    Grim skirted along the back of the nearby stalls, avoiding the crowds, as he approached cautiously. Some of the merchants he moved behind eyed him with suspicion, but it was obvious from his determined pace that he had little interest in the wares kept behind their stalls. Within a minute he stood a few steps away from the mage, who was too focused to realize that anyone was near him at all.


    "Excuse me," Grim asked politely, as he stepped within arm''s length of the mage. "Do you know the way to the nearest tavern?"


    "I''m very busy," the man replied, without even looking in Grim''s direction, keeping his focus on the pillar. "Please ask someone else."


    "Oh no, I don''t think so," Grim said as he took one more step and put his hand on the mage''s face, startling him as he looked at Grim and reached up to bat the hand away. "Don''t move," Grim commanded, "or I''ll be forced to kill you."


    "You''re Grim, aren''t you?" The man asked fearfully, as recognition hit. "The gladiator."


    "That''s right," Grim confirmed with a nod. "And you know exactly what I''m capable of. You''re not going to free this demon. If you make the attempt, I''ll kill you."


    "It''s funny," the mage replied with a grin that unnerved Grim. The man should have been terrified, but his fear was gone and had been replaced by arrogance. "I''ve always wanted to know about you," the man went on, his tone taunting, "Aren''t Fedain supposed to be pacifists? Your people must not be very fond of you. Why don''t you just let this go?"


    "I''m afraid there''s nothing you can say that would make me do that," Grim countered. "Why don''t you just walk away?"


    Grim glanced toward the crowd at the sound of a bird cawing in the distance that momentarily overcame the noise of the bustling throng. There was something ominous in the sound, as if the bird were speaking a language it had no right to be speaking. Grim looked back to the mage in horror as he understood the arrogance he had seen there.


    "Why would I do that?" The mage asked cockily as the bird called out its final cry, "You''re too late."


    "You used your familiar to relay the words . . ." Grim whispered in dread. He withdrew his hand from the mage''s face as he glanced back at the pillar, only to see that it was already beginning to dissipate. "You''ve doomed the entire city."


    "Neredos must fall," the mage replied, spitting the name like a curse.


    "Get out of my sight!" Grim yelled in disgust, shoving the mage backward onto the cobblestones. As he strode back into the crowds he muttered, "I have something much bigger to deal with than the likes of you."


    "You''re not going to stop this!"


    The mage dove for Grim, a dagger held in his hand. Grim spun around at the last instant and grasped the wrist of the hand that held the dagger, and in a manner of seconds the mage was convulsing on the ground; whatever youth he had left in him was sucked away and funneled into Grim.


    "I''m afraid I never got your name," Grim said sadly before releasing the mage and turning back to focus on the pillar ahead of him. "Rest well"


    ~ ~ ~ ~


    Salidar''s eyes were drawn to one particular pillar over the others. They had chosen this pillar because it was the largest and most infamous. It was known as the pillar of Ibrix, claimed by Maxthane to be a reference to a particular clan of demon, if the grimoire were to be believed. All he knew for certain was that the pillar was massive, and as far as Salidar was concerned, the bigger the pillar the bigger the demon and the better his chances of destroying Neredos with it.


    "King Salidar!" a voice shouted from the street below him, but he didn''t spare the soldier a glance. It didn''t stop the man from shouting the rest of his message however. "There are men fighting us at the third pillar! They''ve interrupted the summoning."


    "Knights!?" Salidar shouted the question down at the soldier, after glancing dangerously back at Fasha. The Knights were early if that were the case, and he didn''t like unpleasant surprises.


    "No, my King!" The man shouted back, dropping the salute he had held until Salidar had looked his way. "The bounty hunter Dogo and several others, who we believe to be gladiators."


    "Dogo would dare challenge my wrath?" Salidar growled, but then he glanced at his son who served as a reminder that he couldn''t really trust anyone. "Defeat them if at all possible," he ordered, "but abandon the pillar before we lose any more men. Five pillars are better than none, and we can afford one retreat."


    "Yes, my king," the soldier replied with a quick salute before running back the way he came. Salidar ignored the soldier and returned his gaze to the Pillar of Ibrix, hoping to find that it had not suffered the same fate that the other pillar had. His breath caught in his throat as the pillar began to dissolve. Shouting from a different direction clued him in that one of the lesser demons may have already been freed, but he didn''t look away from the Pillar of Ibrix. This was the crowning achievement and he intended to watch every second of it.


    The fog disappeared slowly and was replaced by a darker substance. Salidar squinted until he realized what it was; smoke. In a few seconds he was able to see the source, as the horrific visage of the demon came into view. Its massive salamander-like head was wreathed in flames that billowed out from underneath its horned helmet, which was glowing red hot as if it had come straight from the forge. Glowing armor covered most of its skin, and where its flesh was exposed to the air fire danced upon its skin instead. The only part that was neither flamed nor armored was its pair of enormous leathery wings that unfurled wide as they became released from their eight-hundred-year stasis. The largest sword that Salidar had ever seen was held tight in the demon''s hands, a hunk of iron longer than four men''s height, with flames dancing along its entire length. It was a sword perfectly matched to its tremendous wielder, which stood head and shoulders above the nearest buildings, making it just over three stories tall.


    Before the fog had completely dissipated, Salidar knew that he might have made a mistake. He glanced at his son who was also watching the demon and was obviously terrified at the sight. Now that Salidar had seen the demon, he was forced to face the reality that Maxthane might have been right about it all, but he couldn''t turn back now. His soldiers would be forced to bring the demon under control as well as they could, but how could they possibly control such a beast?


    As if to drive the point home the demon roared, it''s shrill cry echoing through the streets of Pentalus, creating a shockwave of sound that reached Salidar even at his distant vantage point. A profound silence followed the roar as the citizens of Pentalus looked in the direction of the sound, but that silence was quickly shattered by the screams of those fleeing the plaza in terror. They didn''t get far. The demon chuckled in triumph and swung its sword across the crowded square, cleaving scores of people in two with one strike.


    The demon reared back, its next roar rumbling like wicked laughter. The sound carried above the screams and was the most terrifying sound Salidar had ever heard. He had been expecting to feel elated as he watched the demon unleash its power, but instead he was filled with overwhelming dread. This being was far more powerful than anything he had ever seen, and it was already killing innocent people by the dozen.


    The throngs of people were beginning to clear the square, but it didn''t seem to matter to the demon. It took its strikes where it could, killing those who were still close enough to hit. Salidar could make out his soldiers moving toward the demon and could sense their fear despite the distance, even though the towering forms of the Elroks led them. For a brief moment Salidar thought that they might succeed in the plan as his soldiers bravely faced the demon and lashed out with their whips, but just as soon as they made contact with the demon they were pulled from their feet. The Elroks moved in next and used their much thicker whips on the demon and Salidar gasped in relief as the Elroks held it caught in their strong grips.


    His relief was short lived, as the demon tore free from the Elroks who held it, gripping one of the whips and swinging the Elrok that wielded it across at the other soldiers in the plaza, clearing the path before it. It took one thunderous step forward before chopping downward heavily, pulverizing those who fell in the path of its blade, and cracking the cobblestones beneath their broken bodies. The ground shook with a horrible tremor that knocked the soldiers from their feet as the demon stepped forward again.


    This was all wrong. The plan had been to liberate The Shade, not to destroy Pentalus. He had unleashed a power that could not be stopped, and if the damage caused over the last few seconds were any indication the demon could level the city within the day. After which The Shade would be easy pickings for such a monster.


    "No, we have to stop this!" Salidar shouted, as the demon pulled back for another swing. "Fasha, get out there and tell them," he ordered, gesturing toward the plaza where the demon finished its latest strike, brutally killing more of his soldiers and even one of his Elroks. "Have the men fight back. We have to kill it."


    He turned to regard the assassin in confusion when Fasha didn''t move. Instead of complying with the command, Fasha stood casually, holding his knife tight against Maxthane''s throat. "I don''t think so, Salidar," he said with a wicked grin.


    "You dare defy my commands?" Salidar asked incredulously. He reached through the blood pact to command Fasha as he had so many times before, only to find the link had disappeared. He could no longer sense the assassin.


    "Wha . . .?" He asked in stunned terror, "How is this possible?"


    "You should have listened to your son," Fasha scolded, grinning wickedly. He changed the position of the knife in one quick movement and sliced the blade down Maxthane''s cheek, causing him to cry out in pain as his blood dripped onto the rooftop. Fasha sneered as he then spun the knife around and rammed it into Maxthane''s chest. Maxthane screamed and fell to one knee, clutching at his chest as he applied pressure to the wound. Salidar''s heart was pounding in his chest as he glanced at Maxthane, but Fasha wasn''t about to give him a chance to go to his son. He stepped toward Salidar with a cocky grin and said, "Blood-pacting with a demon is never a good idea."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 22: Unexpected Unity

    "You''re loving this, aren''t you?" Kirra asked as he felt Styx relax as he gripped Kirra around his waist. When Styx had first climbed into the saddle with him he had been tense and worried, but not anymore.


    "Flying? Yes," Styx answered with a contented sigh. "This is only the second time I''ve done it, but it already feels natural. It''s different from using my hawk to slow my fall. I''ve never been able to do anything but fall slowly before. This is amazing."


    "I know exactly what you mean," Kirra said, stroking the neck of his eagle. "Do you remember when I said I loved your eagle tattoo?"


    "How could I forget?" Styx said, leaning in and surprising Kirra with a light peck of his lips just below his ear. "That''s a memory I''ll keep with me for a long time."


    Kirra closed his eyes briefly and sighed, holding onto the feeling of Styx''s lips against his skin. "It made me feel close to you, instantly," Kirra explained. "Saiyo is one of few in my life who have never let me down, and I don''t know what I''d do without her. Knowing that you have an appreciation for eagles made me want to know everything else about you."


    Styx opened his mouth to respond, but their momentary calm was shattered as they neared a pillar in the southern quadrant of the city. The sounds of combat assaulted their ears, metal against metal, and yelling men shouting orders to each other. There were two groups of fighters battling in the streets, but one of the men fighting below them was immediately recognizable to Styx. A bola left the man''s hands and wrapped around one of his opponents, confirming without a doubt that it was Dogo.


    "We need to get down there," Styx insisted, as he watched the battle. "I recognize one of them, and it looks as if he may need our help."


    Kirra nodded and coaxed his eagle into a dive which forced Styx to hang on tighter. The maneuver gave them the lead over the group of Knights, and it was only a matter of seconds before they touched down on the ground. As soon as they landed Styx was able to recognize the others supporting Dogo''s position. All four were gladiators he had shared a cell with, and they were fighting Salidar''s soldiers with brutal efficiency.


    One of Salidar''s soldiers took note of the approaching Knights and called out to his fellows. Before Kirra and Styx could enter the fray Salidar''s soldiers were retreating, running for the alleyways as fast as they could, though some turned and fired off arrows in their direction. Only one found its mark in an eagle flying several feet above the ground, and the black arrowhead exploded as it made contact with the eagle''s feathers, coating them in black tar and bringing the bird down heavily into the ground, crashing and rolling as it threw its rider.


    Dogo and his companions looked as if they were about to give chase to the soldiers, but then they noticed the plight of the Knight, and kept out of the way of the flailing eagle. They then looked to Dogo as if they were waiting for the order to flee as well. That was when Dogo''s observant eyes settled on Styx, and he motioned for the gladiators to stand down. Though the gladiators eyed Dogo skeptically they did as they were told, and Dogo stepped forward to greet Styx and Kirra.


    "Is the battle over already?" Styx asked in wonder as they came close enough for conversation. "Is that it? Have we won?"


    "Hardly," Dogo replied with a grimace. "There''s five more pillars, and our numbers are small. Grim''s in the market plaza where the biggest pillar is."


    Fenri''s eagle landed a few feet away just as Dogo finished his report. "Point me in that direction," Prism ordered, and seeing the serious look on his face, Dogo nodded and gave quick directions. "Fenri, you have to take me there. If Grim is there, then it means that whatever demon is going to be freed is one he has to stop. I have to help him."


    As the last word left his mouth a loud roar erupted through the city, causing everyone but Prism to instinctively cover their ears. Prism''s face was expressionless as Styx turned his horrified face toward him and stammered, "What the hell was that?"


    "Ibrix," was all Prism said in explanation. He gripped Fenri''s arm firmly, bringing the Knight out of his state of shock and said, "Come on, you have to take me there." Calling out to the Knights who had either landed or were hovering nearby he said, "Any of you who are brave enough to face a demon with me, follow our lead."


    With eyes that showed his Knight''s resolve, Fenri spurred his mount back into the sky. Many of the Knights turned to follow, but not all of the contingent went after Prism and Fenri. Screams were erupting from all around them, and Styx soon realized that several other demons had been successfully freed. The Knights began to break formation, following orders that were shouted by Alsha far above them. The main group followed Fenri but the rest split into four sections, each headed in a different direction.


    "That''s our cue," Kirra remarked, pulling Styx back with him toward the eagle.


    "We''ll meet you at the next pillar," Dogo shouted after them. "It''s two marks east!"


    "Understood," Kirra shouted back, urging Saiyo back into the sky. The sight was now completely different from before as they cleared the height of the rooftops. Styx and Kirra gasped together as they saw the massive fiery demon to the south, swinging its sword with gleeful abandon. But from their vantage point they could see that it was far from the only danger that awaited them. Four other points in the city were erupting in turmoil, though they could actually see only one other demon, and it was much closer to them than the other one.


    Its body was long; the length of three horses, and it was slender in form. But it bore no true resemblance to anything that either Styx or Kirra had ever seen. From its reptilian mouth to the tip of its barbed tail, the creature was covered in deep purple scales that caught the light in an eerie fashion, reflecting it back in a way that made it difficult to look at. Large leathery wings sprouted from its back, keeping it easily aloft as it screeched at the people below it. Long, sharp-edged quills sprouted along its spine, beginning at the base of its skull and following down most of the length of its tail. Shorter quills stood out from the joints on its four legs, but these looked no less keen than the others. Those same limbs ended in wicked claws that would be more than capable of tearing a man apart in seconds.


    "Look, Salidar''s men are fighting that thing," Styx said, drawing Kirra''s attention toward the rooftop directly beneath the demon. There were twenty or so men, armed with nets and short bows, most of which were aimed toward the flying demon. He instinctively wanted to rush to the soldiers'' aid and drew his sword as he prepared to charge, but then he heard something that made him pause.


    "Kirra, be careful. This fight is not going to end well if you''re brash," his sword spoke to his mind.


    It seemed odd for her to point out the obvious and so he questioned, "Have you ever known me not to be careful?"


    "I''ve fought more than one of these before," the sword went on quickly, ignoring his question. "Don''t rush in or you''ll die. Watch how it moves."


    A score of Kirra''s fellow Knights were moving into position to engage the demon, and he urged his eagle to follow them at a slower pace, repressing his natural instinct to charge in with them as he flew behind their line. While he was against the idea of abandoning his companions, he trusted the sword''s judgment when it came to combat.


    The demon was focused on the soldiers below it and appeared to be unaware of the Knights approaching. The eagle riders eagerly urged their birds to charge toward the distracted beast''s back, swords and lances leveled to strike as they flew past. Kirra watched the maneuver with growing anxiety, sensing that something was wrong. The moment before the first Knight would have made contact, the demon turned around abruptly, in a stunning display of aerial maneuverability, its wings unfurling wide as it reversed its hover. As it turned, it lashed out with its barbed tail, hitting the lead Knight squarely, knocking him from his saddle and disorientating his eagle.


    Kirra sucked in his breath as the eagle fell from the sky, but then exhaled in relief when he saw it regain control and begin its search for its rider. Kirra was similarly confused at the sudden disappearance of the Knight, then recoiled in horror as he realized the Knight had never left the demon''s tail. The Knight was impaled on the end of its largest spike, his body hanging limply until the tail swished back violently, finally throwing the Knight from its tip. The eagle moved to catch its rider as soon as it saw the man falling and expected the Knight to catch himself on the saddle, a practiced maneuver that all the Knights trained with their eagles to perform. However, no amount of training could save the dead Knight as he fell past his mount, his limp arms unable to grasp at anything ever again.


    Two more Knights were slashed by the demon''s massive claws when they were unable to slow their advance. The piercing talons ripped through eagle and rider alike, and Kirra cried out in horror as their broken bodies fell from the sky. The rest of the approaching Knights managed to either pull back or veer to the side, but the demon was far from finished with them. It followed two of the Knights as they moved to its right, and was much faster than either of them. Seeing that there was no escape, the Knights turned to fight as the demon came at them.


    Sharp claws arced forward in a quick slash, tearing the closer Knight out of the air before he could even swing his weapon, but the second Knight charged forward in the wake of the attack. Her spear was leveled at the demon''s breast, and her resounding war cry cut through the air like thunder. With all the momentum of her charge behind the strike, her spear collided with the demon''s chest, driving in deeply.


    The demon screeched in pain; the alien sound made Kirra clutch at his ears and he nearly fell from his saddle. Styx held him in place as the demon clutched at its chest with one claw as it pushed back through the air with its broad wings, sweeping its tail across to strike at the Knight who had wounded it. The Knight made an attempt to maneuver out of the way, but the barbed tail collided with her eagle''s left wing. The strike left a gash along the wing that trailed blood through the air as it spiraled toward the ground, the Knight clinging desperately to her eagle''s saddle as she tried to bring the bird to a safe landing. Kirra cringed as eagle and rider crashed hard onto a rooftop, splintering the timbers as they disappeared through the hole in the roof that their crash had created.


    "This is insane!" Styx cried, and Kirra couldn''t help but agree. Everything was going badly for the Knights, and it was only going to get worse. While the closest Knights had engaged the flying demon, the remaining Knights circled about to charge at its back. Four charged at either wing, while the others moved around to engage the demon from the front. Somehow it managed to sense the plan, and even though it couldn''t see the Knights coming toward its wings, it knew they were there. It arched its back, roaring ferociously as a barrage of quills dislodged from its spine, shooting outwards in a spread toward the Knights behind it.


    The screams of Knights and eagles filled the air as sharp quills pierced their flesh and that of their mounts, but their screams were cut short as their bodies convulsed, as if they were experiencing seizures. One by one, all eight of the Knights approaching the demon''s flank fell from the sky, their bodies limp as they plummeted toward the city below them.


    "I was afraid of that. Its twin must also be free," His sword said cryptically.


    "Its twin?" Kirra questioned, but unwilling to wait for more information he continued, "Never mind, I can''t sit back and watch this anymore. I have to fight." He urged his eagle forward as he shouted, "Hang on, Styx!"


    "No! Wait!" The sword screamed, but Kirra''s eagle charged ahead. They crossed over the rooftops where Salidar''s men were still fighting. He had been paying such close attention to the demon in the air, that he had failed to notice that these soldiers were still engaged with something below them.


    His focus was completely on the flying demon when he heard Styx cry, "Kirra! Watch out!"


    A cloud of quills erupted from the street below them. The strike was aimed at Salidar''s men surrounding the street, but Kirra and Styx were in the middle of the spread of quills just as it occurred. They climbed higher as they tried to escape the quills, and Kirra flailed out with his sword, cutting several out of the air before they reached them, but there were too many to stop. A large quill pierced Saiyo''s breast, causing her to shriek in pain. Kirra and Styx joined her pained cry as an electric jolt travelled through the quill into the bird, shocking her and her two riders. Kirra lost consciousness, only to awake a second later as he found himself falling quickly toward the ground.


    "Hold on to me!" Styx shouted as he pulled on Kirra''s arm. Kirra forced his numb muscles to respond and pulled on Styx in turn, until they managed to lock their arms and legs around each other.


    Their descent began to slow as Styx reached up and brushed his tattoo, but they hadn''t slowed enough by the time they collided with the rooftop. The impact knocked the wind out of both of them, and they began to roll down the slanted tiles. Kirra managed to ram his sword into the roof, which stopped his slide abruptly, but Styx continued to fall toward the edge of the roof. Only Kirra''s quick reflexes allowed him to catch Styx''s wrist as he fell, stopping his slide just before the edge of the roof.


    Kirra pulled Styx back up the slant of the roof until they were lying side by side, breathing heavily as they tried to force air back into their lungs. Once his breathing was under control, Kirra turned to Styx and asked, "Are you all right?"


    "Yeah," Styx breathed, clutching at his chest, "I''m going to be fine. What hit us?"


    "Didn''t you yell for me to watch out?" Kirra asked, confused by the question. "I thought you saw what it was."


    "I saw the quills coming toward us," Styx replied with a shake of his head. "But all I knew was that they came from below us."


    "I''m betting it was another one of those things," Kirra said as he gestured to the demon flying high above them. "Actually, it looks as if we might be winning, now." The Knights who had circled around to serve as decoys had doubled back on the demon. There were only two of the Knights left, but these were the best fliers. Kirra cheered as one of the Knights slashed out with his sword as he flew by the demon''s head, cutting it across the eye and generating another alien screech.


    A similar sound came from the streets below them, and they turned in that direction to look for its source. They couldn''t make out anything from their current vantage point, and so they stood and made their way to the crest of the rooftop, and Kirra and Styx both gasped at the scene before them. Bloody carnage was spread across the entire stretch of street, but still Salidar''s soldiers stood fighting the beast in the street, while their fellows rained down arrows from above.


    This beast bore little resemblance to the one flying above, other than the quills that sprouted from its back and the slenderness of its form. It was a large feline, with a sleek but thick coat of yellow fur that covered its entire body. Between the quills along its spine and the arrows that punctured its hide, it looked like a giant pincushion.


    The demon was moving sluggishly. It was covered in a tar-like substance and its energy had been spent in its fight with Salidar''s soldiers, though the carnage on the street indicated it had taken its toll on those fighting it. Whereas the flier seemed to have the advantage in the air, there had been too many soldiers for this beast to face alone, and judging from the demon''s current condition this one was going to fall today.


    "Is that what you meant by its twin?" Kirra asked his sword as he looked down at the feline.


    "Yes," the sword confirmed, "These are Aika demons. They work in pairs from their moment of creation. The theory was that they communicate telepathically, much like you and I are now, except that they even do so across great distances."


    "Why didn''t you warn me about that?" Kirra asked with annoyance.


    "I tried, but you''re too headstrong to listen," she replied, sounding every bit as annoyed as he was. "I was searching for signs of this one while you were watching the one in the air, distracted. Did I not tell you to wait?" she asked, and he could hear the smirk in her voice as she chastised him, "Don''t be so reckless. Are you trying to get yourself killed?


    "Shut up," Kirra ordered. "I''m having a bad enough day as it is."


    He was surprised when she complied but was glad that she did. There was no more time to waste on conversation about what he could or should have done. It was time to get back in the action. There were still two demons to fight, but now there was only one that he could reach.


    He turned to Styx with a grimace and said, "I think we need to get down there and help those men fight the one on the ground. We can''t get back into the air unless we find Saiyo. If she can still fly; if she''s even alive."


    "Let''s go then," Styx agreed, and then started down the slanted side of the roof, looking for the closest building that they could jump toward to progress in that direction. "I remember these rooftops from my excursion into Pentalus yesterday."


    "Really?" Kirra asked in surprise, "Are we that close to where we met yesterday?"


    "One skill I picked up in my youth is to never forget a rooftop," Styx replied with a slight smile. "You learn to memorize terrain quickly when you live your life by running heists, and rooftops when you can soar."


    Before saying another word, Styx jumped across the alleyway separating them from the next building over. Kirra took a running start to clear the distance himself, needing the boost of extra momentum to compensate for the weight of his armor. He landed easily on the other side, but then slipped on the roof tiles, falling to his knees. Styx caught him and hoisted him back up to a standing position.


    "Thanks," Kirra said as he maintained his hold on Styx for a moment longer than necessary.


    "Don''t mention it," Styx replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Come on, you want to get into the fight, don''t you?"


    Kirra nodded and followed Styx up to the crest of the rooftop. As they reached the top Styx turned back to Kirra and said, "We''re about two buildings away from the tavern roof where we met. Which means from here we should be able to see Sabreeza''s guildhall." Styx scanned the skyline and then pointed to a distant building, but there was a large estate between them and the guildhall with three figures standing on the roof of it. Styx squinted in the daylight, trying to make out what was happening, when his eyed widened in surprised recognition. "Maxthane!" he shouted in alarm as one of the three figures crumpled to the distant rooftop.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    There was something in Styx''s eyes that told Kirra the truth of the situation. It was obvious that Styx wanted to go to the rescue of whoever awaited him at that distant point, but something was holding him back. All it took was one distressed glance from Styx back to him for Kirra to know what it was.


    "Styx," Kirra said softly, laying a gentle hand on Styx''s shoulder, "it''s obvious you need to go." Smiling supportively he added, "So go, and we''ll meet up afterward."


    Styx nodded his thanks and then turned to jump to the next building in that direction. To Kirra''s surprise, Styx doubled back and gave him a quick peck on the lips before saying, "Good luck, Kirra. I''ll be back as soon as I can."


    And then he was gone, leaving Kirra alone and surrounded by the carnage of the city. For a brief instant none of the destruction raging around him seemed to matter. Styx was gone, and off to a fate neither of them could possibly know. Kirra watched him go with apprehension, and a twinge of jealousy. This Maxthane person was the other one who held Styx''s heart, but there wasn''t anything Kirra could do about it at the moment. He would have to trust that Styx would make the best decision, whatever that might be. He would also have to trust that for the time being Styx would be okay without him, for he had more immediate things to deal with.


    ~ ~ ~ ~


    "You deceived me," Salidar said furiously, drawing his curved sword from his belt. He knew that he didn''t stand a chance against Fasha, but that wouldn''t stop him from giving it his best shot. Being the ever-cautious man that he was, he would wait until Fasha advanced on him. Defense had always been where Salidar had excelled in combat, and not even the bleeding body of his son lying at Fasha''s feet would make him take the risk of an attack.


    "You''re finally catching on," Fasha said with a chuckle as he casually juggled one of his knives. "You know, for a man who is known for his powers of perception, you were surprisingly easy to fool. All of these years I''ve spent guiding you toward this day; toward freeing the other demons, and you never suspected a thing?" Fasha plucked the knife from the air and threw it straight at Salidar''s right eye. Salidar ducked the flying blade easily and shuffled to the side, where he was intercepted by another knife, as if Fasha had anticipated where he would step. The second blade was batted aside, only to leave room for a third knife to graze Salidar''s left cheek as it sailed over the rooftop.


    Another quick series of throws left Salidar with a second graze on his right thigh and a knife that stuck in his right bicep. Though his arm throbbed with pain, Salidar managed to keep his cool as he rethought his strategy. Knowing that he would lose this defensive battle of attrition without ever scoring a blow on Fasha, he dove forward, rolling across the rooftop until he came up slashing, only to find that Fasha was no longer where he had been standing.


    Purely on instinct, Salidar snapped behind him with his sword, and smiled in triumph as his blade cut deep into Fasha''s shoulder. The attack hardly seemed to faze Fasha, and Salidar was forced to pull back as Fasha''s kris slashed across his gut.


    The wound was like nothing Salidar had ever felt before. It seemed to burn with fire, as if his very blood were igniting inside his veins. He knew that the knife could not have done much more than to scratch his skin, due to the thick leather he wore across his midsection, but it felt as if the knife had disemboweled him. He clutched at the wound with his empty hand as he flailed out with his sword, attempting to drive off any attacks the assassin sent his way.


    None came, for Fasha was doing nothing but watching Salidar with a sinister grin, reveling in his suffering. Salidar watched in horror as the wound in Fasha''s shoulder sealed itself, and even the tear in the clothing seemed to stitch itself shut leaving no indication that the injury had ever taken place.


    "What are you?" Salidar asked between breaths.


    "I told you, Salidar," Fasha replied with dramatic flair. "I''m a demon. They call me Vhor. I owe a great deal to you, Salidar. Without you none of this would have been possible."


    Wincing as he clutched at his gut again, Salidar went on, "This whole time . . . From the time you pledged your services to me. Unbelievable."


    "Unbelievable or not, it''s the truth," Fasha replied with a shrug. "You know, I would have let you live for a while if you hadn''t decided to betray the plan at the last minute. Demons can''t use magic; it was necessary to have someone perform the unbinding spell on the pillars for me," he leaned forward and smiled sweetly at Salidar, "And if you would have simply continued doing as I required, then everything would have worked out."


    "Oh no you don''t," Fasha said suddenly, confusing Salidar. When a knife whizzed past him he thought that the assassin had thrown another knife at him and missed, but it only took one glance to tell him that Fasha had gained a blade rather than lost one. He looked back at Maxthane and saw that the blade was no longer in his chest, and his son had a dumbfounded look on his face.


    "I don''t like anyone throwing my knives except me. Shame on you for trying," Fasha admonished the boy, and then, quicker than Salidar could follow, he sent another knife flying toward Maxthane until it sank into his shoulder. As Maxthane cried out in pain, the knife flew back to Fasha''s hand as if pulled by some unseen force.


    "So, you''re just going to toy with us?" Salidar gasped out. He was trying to sound confident, but the pain from his stomach made it difficult to force any facial expression other than a grimace.


    "I suppose so," Fasha replied with a noncommittal shrug. "Don''t you want to know what you''re dying for?"


    Somehow Salidar managed to force out a laugh, regardless of the fact that it made his whole body hurt. The laugh became a cough, and he wasn''t surprised as a spot of blood hit the ground at the assassin''s feet. "Isn''t it obvious?" He gasped out bitterly. "You want to resume what your kind started eight hundred years ago."


    Fasha laughed loudly at the remark and shook his head. "What my kind started? You don''t realize the truth, do you? My kind didn''t start anything. I just told you, demons can''t perform magic, at least not the kind used to summon us here." With a wicked sneer he added, "One of your kind freed us in the first place, and now one of your kind has freed us again."


    Salidar''s eyes widened at the accusation, but then he began laughing hysterically until it caused him to cough again. Maxthane stepped up and put a concerned hand on his father''s shoulder while glaring at Fasha. "You leave him out of this," Maxthane said angrily. "Freeing the demons will destroy the world. We never had any intention of doing any such thing!"


    "Ah yes, your holy crusade against the one man who has held us at bay for eight hundred years," Fasha replied with a dismissive gesture. "You''re pitiful, you know that?"


    To the surprise of everyone on the rooftop, Maxthane lunged for the assassin, activating a tattoo on his left bicep as he did so. That particular tattoo was infused with the blood of a fire salamander, and it caused Maxthane''s entire body to ignite in flames that were harmless to him but dangerous to anything he touched. He embraced Fasha tightly, and Fasha began to scream as the fire burned his body, but almost as soon as it had begun the fire stopped.


    Salidar watched in horror as Maxthane fell to his knees, the tip of Fasha''s kris protruding from his back. Fasha''s skin was blackened and burned, but it slowly began to regenerate as he withdrew the kris and kicked Maxthane away from him. With a glare of contempt at Maxthane who lay struggling to breathe through his now punctured lung, Fasha began to reconstruct himself at a quicker rate.


    "I tire of this game," Fasha growled, kicking Maxthane before returning his attention to Salidar. With a sigh of impatience, Fasha readied another set of throwing knives while Salidar stared at him dumbfounded. The burning in his belly continued to grow and his strength seemed to be leaving him at the same rate. It was all he could do to deflect the first knife, but the other two found their homes in his flesh, one in his weapon hand and the other in his left shoulder.


    Salidar sunk to his knees in agony as Fasha regarded him with contempt. Fasha took his kris and cupped Salidar''s head gently, and then with a wicked gleam in his eye he made several shallow cuts along the Underking''s cheeks. Each one burned with the same fire that the first cut had, and Salidar screamed as he fell forward at Fasha''s feet. With his face buried in the tiles of the rooftop, he lost all sense of everything around him, but he hoped that Fasha would make his end swift and finish him with a single blow.


    No such blow came. And as the poison flowed deeper into his veins, he was left with no other option but to scream. He didn''t have to endure it for long, for within a few seconds the Underking was dead.


    The rebellion had failed.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    Kirra wasn''t as comfortable sticking to the rooftops as Styx was; he found a place to climb down to the street. Once he had his feet back on the cobblestones he ran toward the sounds of battle, hoping that he would arrive in time to make a difference.


    As he rounded the corner and caught sight of the yellow-furred feline, he slowed his pace for a moment, analyzing the creature in greater detail. Even though it was badly injured, the Aika, or whatever the sword had called it, was still a dangerous opponent. He didn''t want to make the same mistake he had made earlier and rush in without knowing what he was up against.


    The soldiers facing it seemed to have learned the way it moved, and were doing much better than the carnage indicated. Just as the Knights had done with the flier above, it was clear that they had underestimated the demon at first, indicated by the large number of bodies strewn across the street. This demon moved with a similar level of grace to its airborne counterpart, but there was something different about it. It seemed more feral; more aggressive and willing to go on the offense than the other one had. The soldiers were the ones being kept on the defensive, even though it was practically limping as it struck out at them with its sharp claws and fangs.


    Their strategy was keeping the men alive, but it wasn''t allowing them the opening they needed to finish it off. Arrows continued to rain down on it from above, but there was little exposed skin left for them to bury into. They needed a way to strike deeper, and they weren''t going to get it by fighting defensively. Kirra knew what he had to do, and without any further hesitation he charged the demon, his curved sword held ready to cut upward as soon as he came within striking distance.


    Something alerted the demon that he was coming, and it turned to face him, spraying quills at the soldiers surrounding it as it came about. The soldiers managed to dive out of the way of the barrage but the attack had served its true purpose. With the soldiers distracted it broke away from their combat to focus on the newcomer. It bounded toward Kirra quickly, pouncing with its claws poised to slash at him as soon as it landed.


    Kirra saw the attack, and though every instinct told him to duck into cover or to try to dodge backward, he knew that it would be the wrong thing to do. He continued his forward momentum, and when the claw came swiping across at him, he jumped and dove over the swiping paw, carrying the movement into a roll. As soon as he completed the tumble he stood, slashing upward with the full momentum of the roll behind the swing. He was under the demon now, and the slash collided with the pit of the demon''s forelimb.


    The keen edge of Kirra''s sword served him once again as it sheared the limb off at the shoulder, spraying him in a shower of dark, hot blood. The demon howled as it collapsed from the strike, nearly landing on Kirra as he jumped to the side. He wasn''t about to let the demon recover though, and came back in, slashing at it with abandon.


    He hacked at the now exposed underbelly, cutting large gashes in its flesh. The demon continued to howl in agony as Kirra pressed the attack in a flurry of precise strikes. The demon stopped resisting long before Kirra ceased attacking, because the screech of its dying breath never seemed to stop. Instead it seemed to be growing louder by the second, and Kirra didn''t realize until the last instant that the screech wasn''t coming from the demon in front of him, but from above. He looked up at the exact moment that the flying demon reached him, snapping with its neck to grab him with its jaws.


    As the sharp teeth bit down they pierced his armor, and he screamed in pain as they sank into his skin. He stabbed upward with his sword, frantically, but couldn''t get a direct hit while the demon shook him about. Kirra continued to scream, and his torso began to shred beneath the fangs of the beast, as if it were tearing him in half.


    He hit the ground hard, stealing his breath and stifling his scream. As he gasped for air he looked up in wonder, only to find several arrows protruding from the beast''s skull. Feeling a sharp pain in his arm he glanced down to see that an arrow had similarly pierced him and was covering his arm in tar that seeped into the wound and burned his flesh, most likely a miss on the beast that had hit him instead. Whether it had been intended for him or not, his weapon arm now hung uselessly, and the demon still loomed over him, its eyes promising murder to the man who had killed its twin.


    It raised its claws to strike down at him, but the lifted arm was quickly punctured by another barrage of arrows, drawing a new screech from the demon. It launched its own missile attack in response, showering the archers with javelin-like quills. Some of them found their mark, but those archers who remained standing answered with another volley of their own. Each missile struck the beast squarely, and it was clear with each successive hit that the arrows were starting to take their toll.


    Growling in wrathful agony, it glared murderously at Kirra one more time before launching itself back into the sky. Kirra watched the demon fly off in retreat, but his own blood continued to spill from the bite marks in his torso, merging with the carnage on the street. A lone eagle Knight pursued the demon until both were out of Kirra''s view, and the nearby soldiers cheered as they realized they had finally won. He smiled, as his breathing became more labored. He was dying, but at least he had gone out fighting. There was nothing more he could ask for.


    His last image before blacking out was of eagles filling the sky. The rest of the Knights had finally arrived, but they would be too late to save him, or the others who had died. As he drifted off into unconsciousness he realized that it didn''t matter. Styx hadn''t chosen him anyway.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    Maxthane could feel his wounds stitching themselves closed. It was a sensation that seemed both familiar and alien at the same time. It may have been that he had never been injured badly enough to notice it happening before, but he was sure that it had. On a subconscious level he had always known what he was capable of.


    Maxthane gasped as he felt the hole in his lung seal itself shut and he was able to take a full breath again. The cuts still burned, and he knew instinctively that it was the result of the poison that covered Fasha''s kris, but the pain was slowly fading, as if his blood was forcing the vile substance from his veins.


    In a moment he was sitting up, with his wounds completely healed, though he felt more tired than he had ever felt in his life. It was almost enough to cause him to lie back down on the rooftop and sleep there, but then he remembered where he was and what Fasha had been doing to his father.


    He glanced around for any sign of Fasha but the demon was nowhere to be found. Satisfied that Fasha had left them for dead, he crawled over to Salidar, hoping to find him still alive.


    "Father!" Maxthane cried as he bent over Salidar''s body. He checked for a pulse, but not finding one only made his search more urgent. He couldn''t accept that his father was dead. Salidar was too strong, too powerful to succumb to mortality. Nothing had ever been able to defeat him, and Maxthane couldn''t believe that his father had finally met his match.


    Death. The greatest of all warriors had finally challenged his father to combat, and like all mortals, Salidar had lost. No matter how many times Maxthane searched for a pulse, it never appeared. Eventually Maxthane realized the truth, and he laid his head down on his father''s chest and wept.


    He didn''t know how long he lay in that position before he heard a voice calling his name. "Max!" the voice said again. He recognized it, but for some reason he couldn''t attach a face to the voice. It seemed as if it was calling from a long distance away, even though he knew that the source of the voice was right in front of him. Undeterred by his lack of response the voice continued, this time posing a question. "What happened here?"


    The source of the voice knelt next to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he was shocked from his daydream. He met the concerned eyes of the boy he loved and came crashing back to reality. "Styx!" Maxthane said in surprise, before glancing back at his father''s body, only to have tears well up in his eyes again.


    "I''m sorry, Max." Styx said consolingly, rubbing Maxthane''s bare shoulder. "Come on, we have to get out of here," Styx insisted, his comforting touch turning firm. Styx nodded toward Salidar''s body and added, "There''s nothing you can do for him. You''ll have to mourn later."


    "I can''t abandon my people, Styx," Maxthane replied defensively. The realization hit him hard; he was King now. The responsibility of leading the remaining Shades was now his, and he couldn''t go with Styx. He had duties to perform.


    "Who said anything about abandoning anyone?" Styx asked in confusion. "The demons are still free. I only came here first because I thought you were in danger, but we have to stop them. Prism, Grim, Dogo; they need our help."


    Maxthane shook himself to clear his head, trying to push the muddled thoughts out of his mind. He returned his gaze to Styx''s eyes, and allowed himself to become grounded by them. Styx was right, at the moment there were more important matters than mourning. "Let''s go," he agreed with a resolved nod, wiping away his tears.


    He spared one more glance toward his father''s body as they left the rooftop. Then he forced himself to put the image out of his mind. There wasn''t anything else to be done about it now.


    They had gone through two city blocks before Maxthane realized that they were not heading in the anticipated direction of the fiery demon. If Styx wanted to help Grim they were going in the wrong direction, and he felt it was necessary to point that fact out. "Where are we headed, Styx?" he asked, causing his friend to turn around with a raised eyebrow. "Grim isn''t in this direction."


    "I left someone behind in order to get to you quicker," Styx explained with a grim expression. "We need to go pick him up." He glanced up at the sky and saw that the large flying demon was on a path to leave Pentalus, a single eagle Knight chasing after it. "It looks like they drove the demon off."


    Maxthane followed Styx''s gaze and cringed when he saw the demon. There were more eagle Knights flying to intercept it from a different direction, but the demon was a faster flier and would easily escape them if that was its goal. The thought of a demon escaping made him sick.


    "This whole thing is such a mess," Maxthane muttered. "It should never have happened."


    "Then why did you let it?" Styx asked, turning around angrily.


    "Let it?" Maxthane echoed, surprised at Styx''s tone. "Styx, the only reason I''m here is because I was trying to stop it from happening. I freed the gladiators, Styx," he added with a growl. "We escaped together and came to stop my father."


    "Maxthane!" Styx said as his cheeks colored in embarrassment. He pulled Maxthane into a quick embrace and whispered, "I''m sorry. We''ll figure this whole thing out when the battle is over, okay?"


    "All right," Maxthane replied with a confused nod.


    They made their way through the streets until they found the demon Styx had only seen from above. There was every bit as much carnage as there had been before, but this time something stood one the bodies lying across the cobblestones looked familiar. Kirra.


    Styx rushed to Kirra''s side and looked over his gruesome wounds. Maxthane followed as quickly as he could, but he was exhausted. Healing his own wounds had taken its toll on him, and he was sure he wouldn''t recover until he had a moment to rest.


    "Kirra!" Styx panicked as he searched for any sign of response. "What the hell happened!?"


    Maxthane could see the desperation in Styx''s eyes and posture. Whoever this boy was, he was obviously someone whom Styx cared for deeply. He couldn''t bear the thought of Styx enduring any amount of pain, and he knew he had to do everything in his power to prevent such a fate from befalling his love. "Styx, move," Maxthane ordered, laying a gentle hand on Styx''s shoulder. "Let me help him."


    Styx complied, after giving Maxthane a look of desperate confusion. Maxthane knelt down beside Kirra and placed his hands on Kirra''s battered form. This was the only time, other than Grim''s arm, that he had ever tried to heal another person''s wounds with his Fedain heritage, and these wounds were far more serious than Grim''s broken flesh had been, but he still had to try.


    It was obvious that Kirra was alive. Maxthane could feel that much as soon as he touched Kirra, but his life force was fading fast. If he didn''t figure out how to do it quickly then Kirra would die. He took a deep breath and focused deeply on the wounds beneath his fingertips. He could sense the blood flowing freely from Kirra''s many wounds, as if the liquid had been imprisoned within his body and had finally found the opportunity to escape. He began speaking to the blood as if it were sentient, begging it to return to its prison.


    To his surprise the blood began to listen. Within seconds Kirra''s wounds began to close and his breathing became more regular. Maxthane stopped as soon as he knew that Kirra was going to be all right. His energy was completely spent, and it took all of his remaining willpower to avoid slipping into unconsciousness and keeling over.


    Styx watched the scene unfold with growing amazement at Maxthane''s sudden display of ability. When Kirra''s eyes fluttered open, Styx''s attention returned to Kirra who smiled up at him in confusion.


    "Styx. . ." Kirra whispered, as he reached up to touch Styx''s face, but when he noticed that they were not alone he withdrew his hand and turned to Maxthane and said, "You must be Maxthane."


    "I am," Maxthane confirmed with a nod, too tired to think about the exchange between Styx and Kirra. "How are you feeling?"


    "A lot better than I was," Kirra replied with a tight smile, "though still far from perfect. I think I lost a lot of blood earlier." He looked down to inspect the wounds that he suddenly realized he could no longer feel. He met Maxthane''s eyes when he noticed the blood on Maxthane''s hands and asked, "Wait . . . did you heal me?"


    "I think so," Maxthane answered with a shrug. "I stopped your bleeding at least." His eyelids drooped as he added, "I''m really tired now."


    "Max," Styx said, "How the hell did you pull that off?"


    "Apparently, I have Fedain blood in me," Maxthane replied with a tired smile. While he was genuinely happy he had been able to help someone, his exhaustion was enough to keep him from being able to control his expression. "Grim gave me a crash course, but it turns out that I''ve always known how to use the ability, at an instinctive level."


    "Good enough for now," Styx replied with a nod. "Come on, we have to get to Prism and Grim and see if we can help them."


    "Right," Kirra and Maxthane said in unison. Kirra climbed to his feet and offered a hand to Maxthane, who took the proffered help and allowed himself to be hoisted up, but as soon as he was standing he collapsed back to the ground in a heap. He was just too tired.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 23: So Be It

    Every step had to be perfect; every movement precise. There was no margin for error, and the ends justified the means. Surely it meant that he no longer had a soul, but nothing would stand in Grim''s way of destroying the abominations; the lives that existed for no reason but to destroy life, not unlike his own.


    The fog was already fading as the final word of the unbinding spell still echoed. ''Freedom''. That was what the Gor word translated to. It was ironic that such a word, which gave such strength to men, could also be the harbinger of their deaths, and that would surely be the case today.


    As if to prove the validity of Grim''s thought, the demon roared as the final trace of fog disappeared, only to be replaced by the dark smoke that rose from its flesh. The people in the plaza looked about in confusion, stunned by the roar and the acrid stench that filled their nostrils. When they recovered from their initial shock, they began to scream, and everyone attempted to flee the plaza at once. Everyone but Grim, though the panicked throng was doing its best to drag him in the opposite direction.


    But not everyone was running away. He could see that the gladiators were trying to push through the throng to join him, and there were others doing the same, dressed in the black leather uniform that marked them as belonging to Salidar. None of these seemed to be making any headway until three, large, grey forms stepped out of the alleyways. Elroks had come to join the battle as well.


    A smile formed on Grim''s lips as he saw them. At least Salidar had been smart enough to send his strongest troops against the Ibrix, and lucky for Grim he spoke their language. All he had to do was make sure that they could hear him and he could bring them to his will, but first he had to get to the demon.


    The demon swung about with its sword, slaughtering those who stood before it. It was facing away from Grim, and those near him were beginning to thin out as they made their escape. Grim was finally able to gain ground, but not before the demon had already slaughtered another twenty people.


    Salidar''s human soldiers lashed out with large whips, attempting to latch onto the demon''s arms and pull him to the ground, but the Ibrix was too strong for them. With a mighty pull he ripped the whips from the grasps of the soldiers, flinging them to the ground. The Elroks moved in next, with even larger cords, and attempted the same strategy. Unlike the human soldiers, the Elroks were not pulled over and managed to hold the massive demon steady, though Grim knew that they would not be able to hold it down for long.


    Grim took the opportunity to dash in, hoping that Salidar''s troops wouldn''t notice that it was he instead of the expected mage. One of the humans cried out as he approached and several of Salidar''s troops moved to intercept him. Grim prepared to fight them off but was grateful when he saw the lithe form of Haeli jump in to his rescue, facing off against the soldiers with her sword. More of the gladiators rushed to his aid and formed a defensive perimeter around him.


    "I need to get closer!" He shouted, and the gladiators needed no other instruction. They had fought alongside each other many times, and knew how their fellow fighters moved. Salidar''s soldiers were well trained, but they were not equal to the task of stopping the gladiators'' momentum, and soon Grim stood at the foot of the towering demon.


    He could feel the heat emanating from its skin. Grim cursed under his breath as he reached out to touch the burning skin. Of all the demons to be freed and faced by him, it was an Ibrix, the most dangerous to a Fedain. He had to maintain his touch to damage the demon, but that meant he would be burned at the same time. He would have to constantly heal his own wounds while draining the life from the demon, and that would take a great deal of concentration, especially as Ibrix could heal itself from the life force of those it killed in the meantime. Someone had to make the sacrifice or the world would never be made whole. If that meant it had to be him, then he had made that decision many times before and this would be no different.


    Before he could touch the demon, with a surge of adrenaline it tore free from the whips holding it bound, knocking two of the Elroks from their feet and pulling the third from the ground. The Elrok held onto the whip while the demon kept it clutched in its hands, dangling in the air as it tried to regain control of the weapon. Grim was forced back as the demon turned and used the whip like a flail with the Elrok as its head, swinging at the gladiators and soldiers who stood fighting before it. It followed the sweep with a downward swing of its massive sword. The sword slashed cleanly through the men who stood fighting in the plaza, and it then collided with the cobblestones beneath them. It hit with such force that the entire plaza shook, forcing Grim down to one knee as he lost his balance. To most of those observing, it was simply a horrific display of the demon''s power, but to Grim it was a reminder that he had a duty to perform. When the dust cleared he glanced at the cobblestones that the demon had struck with its sword and noticed large cracks had formed across the ground, one of them extending far enough to break the line of the rune circle that held the demon bound. Now that the demon was free to move it would make his job of killing it much more difficult, but the cracks in the ground gave him an idea. Grim shouted to the Elroks in their language and ordered, "As your chief I command you to lure the demon to me!"


    The Elroks glanced at him in surprised confusion until Grim ripped his shirt open and revealed the intricate knotwork tattoo of a lion across his chest. The Elroks noted the tattoo and gasped collectively, then without any further hesitation the Elroks jumped to attention and followed Grim''s orders, as he dashed back across the cobblestones to where the demon had cracked the surface.


    The Elroks moved as a singular unit and surrounded the demon, drawing large clubs from their backs as they ran. They clobbered at its feet to get its attention and then pulled back as soon as they had it, rushing to join the Fedain at his new location. The demon swung after them with a primal growl, cleaving one of them in half and knocking another to the ground. The third reached Grim and set itself up in a defensive position in front of him.


    "When he strikes at you, get out of the way," Grim ordered, and was pleased when the Elrok nodded his compliance. "I can handle this from here."


    The demon was sufficiently baited, and with another growl it swung down at the last Elrok standing. As Grim had ordered the Elrok to do, it watched the strike carefully and then jumped out of the way at the last instant, allowing the sword to collide with the cobblestones where he had been standing. Grim was prepared for the trembling in the ground that followed the strike and kept his footing. He looked at the ground and smiled, pleased that the cracks had widened even further.


    "Now! Charge past me like you''re fleeing!" Grim ordered. The Elrok looked at him and hesitated. "Do it! You can rejoin the fight after he reaches my position!" The Elrok nodded and continued moving, and the demon charged after him, its sword raising in preparation for another strike. As soon as its leg came into range, Grim jumped for it and landed on the ankle.


    Grim placed his hands against the fiery skin of the demon''s exposed ankle without hesitation, wincing as his flesh started to burn. He began to suck away at the demon''s life force, channeling it directly into the blistering skin on his palm. He felt the leg shift as the demon realized what was happening and pulled its leg away. Grim released his touch to dodge backward, his movement barely allowing him to avoid the demon stamping down on the place where he had been standing.


    Grim dashed in as soon as the foot came back down and repeated the siphoning process he had used the first time. The action was met with another stomp, which he again avoided. They repeated this sequence of Grim siphoning and the demon stomping two more times, and Grim noticed with satisfaction that each stomp caused the ground to tremble under the demon''s weight, and the cracks in the cobblestones widened ever farther. However, the next time Grim dashed in the demon tried a different tactic, kicking out with its foot. Grim had been expecting another stomp and took the kick solidly to his chest, the flames catching his clothing on fire as he sailed through the air to land heavily on the cobblestones ten yards in front of the demon.


    He rolled over several times to put out the flames before climbing to his feet to face the demon. The demon was no longer within his range, though Grim was certainly still within the demon''s range. Grim looked up at the demon with a blank expression, though he was surprised that the demon hadn''t finished him off already. For whatever reason, the demon was giving him an opportunity to recover, and Grim took it and used stored energy to heal the ribs that were broken when he was kicked.


    "Slayer!" The demon growled, its rumbling voice echoing across the now empty plaza. Grim gritted his teeth at the title, which he had earned during the war. Only one man had earned the right to be called such by the demons, but he hated the title more than anything. What worse trait could a Fedain be known for than that of killing? "What a surprise," the demon went on, chuckling loudly, "Is it you who has brought me to this strange place? Have you gifted this offering of souls to me?" It bent its head down as it sneered at him. "When I take your head they will know that none can defeat me."


    "The more you talk," Grim yelled at the demon, "the quicker you''ll die." Grim charged forward as he shouted the last word, taking advantage of the demon being distracted by the conversation. Instead of touching the demon lightly as he had done before, Grim wrapped his whole body around the demon''s leg, making as much contact as he could, to increase the effectiveness of his life-siphoning ability. His clothes ignited and began to burn his flesh, but he continued to hold on, healing his burns as soon as they occurred, using the energy he stole from the demon.


    The demon howled in pain, and pried Grim from its shin with its massive right hand, but Grim had already done serious damage to its leg. The places where his skin had touched that of the demon now bore huge gaping wounds. Grim attempted the same on the demon''s hand only to have the demon crush him within his grip causing him to black out for a second and stop the process. When he came to, the demon was glaring at him menacingly as if daring him to try the maneuver again.


    Grim focused inwardly and stitched himself together as he rethought his plan of attack. He was losing this battle, and it had only just begun. If he could not think of a way to turn the odds in his favor then the entire city would be lost. The demon smirked at him, apparently thinking that the fight had left Grim, when a shout from above drew their attention.


    "Grim!" Prism shouted from the back of the eagle he was riding toward the battle.


    "The Dark Monk!" The demon growled at Prism. Chuckling, the demon claimed with pride, "I can kill you both at once!" Despite his predicament, Grim smiled slightly at the remark. Seeing Prism arrive gave him the resolve he needed. Realizing that nearly all of his clothing had already been burned off, Grim energized his entire body, siphoning from the demon''s hand wherever his skin had contact with the demon''s flesh. The demon growled and squeezed back, crushing him again with all of its strength. Grim knew he couldn''t stand it for long, and the demon would win the exchange unless something changed.


    To the obvious surprise of Fenri riding in front of him, Prism jumped from the saddle. Leading with his foot he hurled his body like a spear down at the demon''s helmeted head. By the time he reached the demon his skin was coated in a silvery sheen, and when his foot collided with the demon''s helmet the resulting sound was as if a large metal gong had been struck.


    The demon reeled from the blow, its massive head swaying as it teetered back on one foot for a moment, causing another tremor to spread across the ground. Prism''s attack loosened the demon''s handgrip but Grim didn''t take the avenue of escape that opened up to him. He held onto the demon''s fingers and continued to suck away its life essence. The demon howled in pain and tried to shake Grim off, but it was already too late to save its hand. In a few seconds Grim had melted most of the demon''s hand away, and he fell toward the cobblestones through the ooze that was left of the demon''s fingers.


    Grim expected to hit the cobblestones hard but instead found Prism waiting below him, holding his arms out to catch him. He winced as his now naked flesh made contact with Prism''s metal bracers. While he was glad that Prism had spared him from injury, the last place he wanted to stay was in his arms, and hastily lowered himself to the ground


    "Thank you," Grim mouthed with a quick nod, and then, without another word, he charged back toward the demon, with Prism right behind him, and immediately it was as if they had never been apart. They had fought alongside each other for so long, battling demon after demon, that knowing how the other one was going to react in any situation was second nature. Even though it had been eight centuries for Grim the memories of that time were still very real and there was no other person he would rather have fighting at his side.


    While Prism veered toward the leg that Grim had targeted before, Grim aimed for the other one. The demon was still reeling from the pain of losing its hand, too distracted to notice their approach. It couldn''t have worked out better, and Prism only needed a few seconds to deliver a devastating series of heavy kicks to the already wounded ankle. The demon howled in pain, drowning out the sound of its splintering bone.


    The howl became a screech as the demon fell to one knee and Prism dodged out of the way. Grim took full advantage of the demon''s proximity to the ground, and changed his focus from the ankle he had been aiming for to the demon''s lowered knee. He jumped up and latched onto the demon''s thigh, once again using his full body contact to rapidly melt away its flesh.


    The eagle Knights charged in at the same moment, wave after wave flying past the demon''s head, blades and spears striking as they passed. Unlike Grim or Prism''s attacks, their movements proved to be little more than annoyances, as most of the weapons bounced off of the demon''s thick helmet.


    But the demon had been through enough. It dropped its massive sword with a thunderous clang that reverberated through the plaza. With its now empty hand it reached up and plucked one of the Knights and his eagle from the sky as they flew past, and then swung the unfortunate pair at Grim like a club.


    Grim didn''t know what was coming until it was too late to stop the siphoning process, and as eagle and rider collided with Grim''s naked flesh they too fell victim to the effects of his abilities. Their smaller bodies melted away almost instantly, showering him in a mixture of blood and detritus. Grim let go quickly but the demon''s strategy had already paid off. The incendiary film that surrounded the demon''s leg ignited the iron-based blood that now coated Grim wherever it made contact, and he was suddenly entombed in flames.


    He let go and rolled back and forth on the cobblestones, trying to smother the flames as best he could while using his energy reserves to heal his burning flesh. As the flames persisted, the demon growled and snatched another eagle out of the sky and squashed it like a piece of overripe fruit over Grim''s rolling body, igniting more blood as it poured down onto him. Grim was starting to run out of energy, and the smokey flames were making it nearly impossible to breathe. It wouldn''t be long before he was consumed by the inferno caused by this volatile chemical cocktail.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    However, Prism was on the move to make sure that nothing of the sort would happen. He circled behind the demon, lining up with the back of its wounded knee. He launched into the air, delivering a strong kick to the back of the joint, causing the demon to buckle over as its knee was dislocated by the strength of the blow. But Prism wasn''t done. He activated the tattoos that covered his entire body and were hidden beneath his clothing, coating his hands in silvery metal before switching his attention to the other leg, delivering a flurry of punches to the ankle joint, breaking it just as severely as he had the other one. The demon growled in protest as it righted itself, and swung its most recently pulverized victim at Prism, showering him with the fiery blood, instead of Grim.


    Prism jumped back to avoid the liquid fire, but some still dripped onto his clothes as he darted away, igniting them almost instantly. He dropped to the ground and rolled to put out the flames, and came up in a ready stance as soon as the fire was out, expecting to find the demon already swinging back at him.


    But the demon had other ideas. While Grim and Prism recovered, it regained its sword and raised the blade high above its head and aimed a downward thrust at Grim, who was finally able to smother the flames just as the sword began its descent. He felt the heat of the sword as he rolled to safety at the last instant, causing it to strike the ground next to him. The ground trembled as it fell apart, cobblestones disappearing into the cavernous hole beneath them. All of the demon''s strength had been channeled into that final blow, and it had been enough to break through the already weakened surface and into The Shade below.


    Grim scrambled to get away and managed to jump from the falling stones at the crumbling edge of the hole, scrambling quickly across the ground until he was no longer falling. The demon did not fare as well, and began to fall with the stones surrounding it. It latched onto the edge and managed to catch itself with one hand, but Prism was already there waiting for it, and with a powerful drop of his heel to the demon''s hand, it released its grip and dropped into the cavern below.


    It roared as it fell until a thunderous noise signaled its collision with the cavern floor below. Those still present in the plaza waited with bated breath for any sign of the demon. The silence lingered for a moment longer, until one of the gladiators began to cheer. The cry was joined by his fellows until Salidar''s men turned on them with weapons bared, looking as if they were about to start the battle anew.


    "Stand down!" Grim shouted, and the gladiators backed off, but continued to eye Salidar''s men warily. The two surviving Elroks returned to his side and he gestured toward the group and ordered, "Break that up. We need to bring this back to order."


    Just before the Elroks reached the group the drumming sound of large, flapping wings filled the air, and Grim turned back to the hole and growled in frustration. The demon burst from the hole in the ground, and the air displaced by its wings blew Prism and Grim down onto the cobblestones, preventing them from being able to reach the demon before it lashed out with its sword and cleaved into the large group of men and the Elroks who stood before it.


    Grim watched helplessly as the demon then flew high into the air roaring triumph. While he had hoped that the fall would kill it, it had instead given it the time it needed to heal using the stored life force of those it had slain. He watched as the demon looked at the Knights flying nearby, sporting a wicked grin. It may not have been able to take on Grim and Prism, but the Knights would be easy pickings.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    Gorlan, Jushu, Obran, Tane. Alsha listed off the names in her head as she watched the demon pluck her Knights out of the air, only to have their bodies crushed along with their mounts in the most horrific fashion she had ever witnessed. This fight was going badly, despite the efforts of Grim and Prism on the ground. She had expected that it would be a difficult battle but this was a nightmare.


    It seemed that every strike her Knights landed was completely ineffective on the demon''s hide, and the only thing that diving in and striking had accomplished was leaving them open to attack. They had to come up with a different strategy and they needed it quickly.


    And then the demon broke through into The Shade, falling down with the crumbling cobblestones as Grim and Prism watched from the side. There was a silence that settled over the city for a brief moment as her Knights circled high above the opening, waiting for any sign of the demon. And it came in a rush as the demon soared back through the opening and lashed out at those waiting above it, before launching into the air, and Alsha realized that time for planning had run out. The demon was heading straight for her, and the Knights circling above it, grinning like a child about to feast on a mountain of sweets.


    "Keep your distance!" She shouted to those near her. They in turn relayed the order to those near them, but there wasn''t enough time for everyone to hear the order. Only half of her Knights had been informed by the time the demon reached their altitude, and the rest continued to act on their previous orders. They dived at the demon with their swords and spears, war cries leaving their tongues to bolster their courage as they charged toward certain death.


    The demon had its full attention on the approaching Knights and laughed as it brought its sword across in a great sweep, slashing through two Knights and their eagles, and then caught three more on the backswing. The rest of the contingent managed to close in on the demon without being struck, but just as before, their strikes did little damage to the demon''s flesh, and it was all for naught.


    One of the eagles flew too close to the flames dancing upon the demon''s skin and its wings caught fire. Bird and rider spiraled toward the ground as the eagle tried to regain control, but Alsha knew that it was another soul lost. She scanned her remaining forces and realized who it had been. Kora. She was among the youngest of the Knights serving under her command, and would be mourned greatly by her comrades when this was done, should any of them survive.


    It was time for her to move, and to do everything in her power to end this before more lives were lost. Even though the demon was massive, Alsha still had numbers in her favor, and her troops had been the first to arrive at the battlefield. Other companies would take to the air soon and reinforcements were bound to appear at any moment. All she had to do was buy them enough time.


    But the demon could now meet them on its terms. While the eagles were certainly faster, the sheer range and accuracy of the demon made it almost impossible to approach while it was in the air. Alsha had to get it back on the ground where Prism and Grim could attack it again.


    "I''m starting the next charge," She shouted to her nearby Knights. "Cover my flank and make sure I get in."


    Alsha spurred her eagle into a dive toward the demon''s right wing, watching the demon closely as it met her charge with a powerful swing of its sword. As the sword swung across at her Alsha jumped off of her mount and into the sky, pushing her eagle down. The bird flew under the blade while she passed above it, meeting her mount on the other side and landing gracefully in the saddle.


    Those Knights following immediately after her were not so lucky, and several fell to the massive blade, but she would mourn for them later. She was beyond the sword for the moment, and that meant she had to make her strike count while she had the chance. Her trajectory held straight for the wing, and as soon as she reached the leathery membrane she jumped from the saddle again, with her sword raised high above her head in both of her hands.


    She collided with the wing and sunk her sword in deeply, and then let gravity do the work by pulling her toward the ground, ripping her down the wing with steadily increasing speed. The demon howled as she tore a hole in its sensitive flesh, but in an instant Alsha was screaming with it. The iron in her sword reacted with the slimy chemical that coated the demon''s wings and combusted, heating the metal of her blade very quickly and burning through her gauntlets. Only her discipline allowed her to continue to hold on, making sure that the tear in the wing traveled all the way to the bottom. As soon as she cleared the wing she released the blade, letting the red-hot metal fall toward the city below her. Her eagle swooped in to catch her but she had to try several times to grab the saddle, barely able to command her burned hands to work through the pain; she eventually managed to grip the leather and pull herself back in.


    Alsha glanced at her hands to see how damaged they actually were, as she guided her mount with her legs. The heat had burnt completely through the leather that normally protected her and had completely destroyed her palms. Grimacing at the thought that she would probably have to keep on flying without using her hands, she took a moment to look up at the demon to survey the result of her strategy. The demon was favoring its injured wing now, and Alsha watched with satisfaction as another of her Knights followed her lead and mirrored her maneuver on the other wing while approaching the demon from behind.


    He too let go of his sword as soon as he cleared the wing, and Alsha was sure that he had been burnt as badly as she had. He managed to catch his saddle quicker than she had, and flew down to rendezvous with her.


    "Are you okay, Mika?" Alsha asked as he neared her, but she then saw his hands and they looked just as bad as hers did.


    "Yes, but it was worth it," Mika said, nodding upward. Alsha followed his gaze and saw that the demon was struggling to stay aloft now.


    "It still isn''t enough," Alsha said with a grimace. "It''s still winning." They were running out of Knights far faster than the demon was losing altitude, and Alsha wasn''t certain she could force the demon back down to the ones that could defeat it, especially now that she was weaponless and unable to fight with her injured hands.


    "What are your orders, Commander?" Mika asked as he hovered nearby.


    Alsha glanced back down at Prism and Grim as an idea struck her. "Follow me," she ordered and then urged her eagle toward the ground. In seconds she landed beside Prism and Grim, taking a long look at the naked Fedain. He seemed familiar somehow, though she couldn''t place from where, but she was sure that she would have remembered the intricate tattoo on his chest; knotwork formed in the shape of a lion''s head. But whoever this enigma was, he had been fighting the demon and doing it well, and she knew where he was needed. Alsha turned to Prism and said, "Let''s get you up there. You''re no good to us down here, and you''re the only one who knows how to fight this thing."


    "Agreed, though I''m not the only one," Prism said with a nod. Inclining his head toward Grim. "Lady Alsha, it is more important that you take Grim here with you. He''ll be of more use than me."


    As Mika landed next to Alsha she said, "Then it''s a good thing we can take both of you. Come on, there''s no time to waste."


    Grim and Prism nodded and climbed up on the mounts in front of their riders, before Alsha and Mika launched into the sky and headed toward the demon. The demon was starting to heal its wounded wings, and Alsha and Mika urged their eagles to even greater speed, hoping they would reach the demon while the odds were still in their favor.


    "Let me see your hands," Grim commanded as they flew upward. There was something soothing about his voice that told her that she could trust him, and she extended her burnt hands forward.


    She winced as he touched the marred flesh and almost pulled her hands back, but her hands began to feel better within seconds. Alsha could feel her flesh beginning to return to its usual condition, and in no time at all Grim released her hands, allowing her to withdraw them to her face in wonder. There was no sign of injury at all, except for the charred hole in the leather. Alsha knew he could heal, after all he was a Fedain, but he had done so faster than even Veil could.


    "Thank you," she whispered in awe, "I owe you one."


    "You''re welcome," Grim replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You can repay me right now by getting me to its face. It''s time to end this."


    Alsha nodded and followed his order, urging her eagle toward the demon. The demon took no note of them, busy as it was with the Knights that still flitted about its head and wings, striking at it whenever they could. Their attacks were as ineffective as they had been previously, though the distraction kept the demon from regenerating as quickly as it could, and also bought them the time that they needed to ascend to an altitude even with the demon''s head.


    Without any warning to Alsha, Grim leapt from the eagle as they flew past the demon''s face, landing directly on its snout. The demon began howling almost immediately as Grim began to suck away at its essence. It released its grip on its sword as it clutched at its face. The gigantic slab of iron fell from the sky and crashed into the buildings far below, scattering debris in every direction.


    The demon seemed to be trying to pry Grim from its face with all of its strength, but Grim crawled up inside its helmet and managed to hold on. Alsha watched with morbid satisfaction as the demon''s snout began to melt away, and the demon''s howls were cut short as it lost a tongue with which to scream. It was beginning to lose altitude as it fought with the Fedain, no longer able to focus on keeping its wings beating.


    Mika''s eagle flew within range of the demon''s chest, and Prism looked as if he too were about to leap from the saddle and join Grim in tearing the demon apart, but before he could make his move, an invisible force struck the demon soundly, throwing it from the sky with tremendous force to crash into a mass of buildings below it. Alsha looked up in surprise, seeing that Neredos had arrived, dressed in robes that were unfamiliar to her eyes. She stared in awe as the King floated above the demon, supported by nothing but his command over the air itself.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    Prism smiled as he looked upon his old friend. It was about time that Neredos showed up. The king looked as he had eight hundred years before, his red and gold robes shining in the daylight as he stared down at the demon rolling about in the rubble, still trying to pry Grim from its face.


    Neredos had brought reinforcements. Another two companies had been deployed and the majority of them were headed Prism and Alsha''s way. They had arrived as previously scheduled, but the battle was already nearly over. Grim would kill the demon in a matter of minutes at the rate he was going. Prism''s smile fell when he realized that if they had been properly prepared for this as he had suggested, far fewer of Alsha''s troops would have died.


    "Let me get down there to help," Prism asked Mika. Mika nodded and guided his eagle to dive, with Neredos following closely behind. As they reached ground level, Prism jumped from the eagle and rushed toward the struggling demon.


    "Prism, let me handle this," Neredos ordered, gliding past.


    "What are you planning on doing?" Prism asked. As fast as Prism was, he couldn''t keep pace with the flying mage who could glide over the rubble that Prism was forced to climb over, and Neredos began to outdistance him.


    "I''m going to put it back where it belongs," Neredos replied, the words were carried to Prism''s ears through the air as if carried by the wind.


    Prism hesitated as Neredos rose up above the demon and began to inscribe a rune circle made of white light in the air in front of him, a previously invisible tattoo on his hand beginning to glow with the same luminescence. Neredos was beginning the same spell that they had used to seal the demons in the pillars eight hundred years before; the same spell that had sealed Prism up with them.


    "Grim!" Prism shouted in concern, realizing that Grim was still attached to the demon''s face. Prism dashed toward Neredos and shouted up at him, "Neredos, Grim is going to be sealed up with the demon!"


    "He can''t stop it now, Prism," a familiar voice shouted from behind him. He turned to see Veil, carefully picking her way across the ruined plaza. She gingerly stepped over broken stones and corpses alike, seeming to regard both with equal disdain. "Even if he wanted to, the spell cannot be interrupted once begun. You know this."


    "He has to!" Prism protested looking from her to Neredos, and finally back to the demon. The demon was standing again, stumbling around the rubble of the ruined buildings as it tore at its face with all of its quickly fading energy. What was left of the structures surrounding the plaza had now caught fire from the demon''s flesh, and the area was beginning to be obscured by black smoke. Prism turned back to an unconcerned Veil as he insisted, "Grim''s the only one who can stop the Vhor!"


    Prism''s hope was fading fast; Neredos was completing the spell, and grey fog began to billow out from his hands, funneling out toward the demon. The fog reached the demon and started to settle around its limbs, its light grey vapors replacing the black smoke. The demon went rigid as the spell took hold, freezing it in place. Within a minute the demon was entirely entombed in the fog, with Grim sealed along with it.


    Neredos turned away from the pillar, considering the job done and flew back up into the sky, looking to see if any of the other demons needed sealing. Prism watched him leave, horrified by what had just taken place. Grim was now gone and Fasha was still on the loose. Where Neredos had saved the world eight hundred years before, Prism was certain now that he had doomed it.


    "Well, well, this is working out better than I could have possibly hoped," Veil said unnervingly from Prism''s side, causing him to turn toward her in surprise. As he turned he felt something sharp pierce his arm, and a very familiar sting enter his veins. He jumped back, staring at Veil in horror as he recognized the kris blade held in her hands.


    "So it comes back to this," Prism growled, eyeing the blade warily. He activated his tattoos and forced the nanites in his bloodstream to slow the poison, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before it claimed him. The nanites were a powerful invention, and one that had saved him time and time again, but they were a relic of an age that had been destroyed by the demons, and even they could not defy the poison of the Vhor. It was the most insidious poison that the world had ever known.


    Fasha shrugged as he let his disguise fail, no longer appearing as the beautiful Fedain woman but as Salidar''s assassin instead. "It does," Fasha replied with a sneer. Nodding toward the pillar he added, "And now the Slayer can no longer save you."


    "He''ll be back," Prism promised, eyeing the assassin warily as he took a few cautious steps back. "You were always destined to die at his hands."


    "You won''t be around to see it," Fasha vowed, taking a confident step forward.


    "So be it," Prism said with a nod, and settled into a defensive stance as he prepared to meet Fasha''s advance. He didn''t stand a chance, but he was going to go down fighting.

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 24: When the World Crumbles

    "Prince Maxthane!" Kirra and Styx looked up to see one of Salidar''s men headed their way. He was dressed in the black leather uniform, except that his was of higher quality than the others, marking him as higher rank than the other soldiers. The sword he held was of a quality to match the armor, and from the scars visible on his middle-aged face, to the gait with which he walked, implied that he was a seasoned soldier. Worry was etched into his features as he saw Maxthane lying on the ground, unmoving. He slowed his approach and then stopped as he noted Kirra and Styx''s suspicious stares.


    "Captain Rega!" Maxthane greeted the soldier groggily, as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at him. It was a struggle for him to even make it that far. "It''s good to see you survived. How many soldiers do you have left under your command?"


    "Twenty-four, though only six of us are uninjured," Captain Rega replied after a quick salute. "Your father told us that you were staying in The Shade to watch over his affairs, I''m surprised to see you here. Can we be of assistance?"


    "Maxthane needs to be taken out of here," Styx answered for Maxthane. "He''s too exhausted to keep fighting."


    "And who are you to speak for the Prince?" Rega replied dangerously, glowering at Styx.


    "Rega, please," Maxthane interjected, and Rega visibly relaxed as he turned his attention back to him. "Styx is a friend, and he is also correct. I''m afraid that I''m not going to be of much more use."


    "Why don''t we regroup with your father and see what he would have us do?" Rega suggested as he resumed his cautious approach toward the trio. When he noticed Styx and Kirra eyeing his drawn sword he sheathed it before reaching them.


    "My father is dead," Maxthane explained with a blank expression as Rega knelt beside him, "He was killed by Fasha."


    "No . . . my King," Rega said reverently. Laying a hand on Maxthane''s leg he sighed and said, "I suppose you''re my King now. What are your orders?"


    "I think we should regroup as you suggested," Maxthane said firmly. "Help me up."


    Between Rega, Styx, and Kirra it was easy to get Maxthane to his feet, though he started to fall over as soon as he was standing. While they struggled to keep him balanced, the rest of Salidar''s soldiers approached, either wounded or supporting those who were. Maxthane addressed them with a steady voice, though it took nearly all of his will to do so.


    "People of The Shade," he began formally, "The plan has failed, and my father was killed during the attack." Astonished murmurs traveled amongst the soldiers, but they were quelled quickly by Maxthane''s upraised hand. "We need to gather the survivors and return to The Shade. We have been gone too long from our home."


    "Yes, my King," Rega said with a salute. Turning to the rest of the troops he barked, "You heard the King. Let''s move. Those of you who are able, rendezvous with the other captains and relay Maxthane''s orders. The rest of you should head below. We''ll meet you at the palace."


    The soldiers dispersed and Rega returned his attention to Maxthane, offering his arm to lean on. As Maxthane leaned into him, Rega said appraisingly, "You handled that well, King Maxthane."


    "Thank you," Maxthane replied with a forced grin. "Honestly, I''m surprised that the men followed me so readily."


    "It''s because you spoke like a king," Kirra offered, drawing surprised glances from both Maxthane and Rega. The captain nodded sagely as Kirra went on, "You must have learned well from your father to have such a regal composure. You''re a stronger man than you look."


    "How observant for a Knight of the Firmament," Rega said with a laugh, clapping Kirra on the shoulder. "You''ve got a great deal of skill, Knight. I was surprised by how well you managed to do against that demon. I''m even more surprised that you''re alive. I lost almost every single man who faced it on the ground."


    "Most of the work was done before I arrived," Kirra replied, returning the smile, though his eyes continued to regard Rega with suspicion. "There were a lot of arrows in that thing, though from how thick its hide was I admit that I''m surprised at how much damage they dealt. It was moving fairly slowly when I reached it."


    Rega pulled one of his arrows from the quiver on his back and showed Kirra the arrowhead, which was made of some dark, black metal. Styx recognized it immediately as one of the arrowheads he had attempted to steal from Salidar. "These arrowheads were commissioned by Salidar as soon as we knew freeing the demons might be a possibility," Rega explained while Maxthane nodded, backing up his words. "Each one hides a pressurized capsule that breaks open as the arrowhead pierces the skin, releasing a numbing tar. We intended to use them on your eagles once you came to interfere, but once we realized that we couldn''t control the demons we put them to better use."


    "Oh no!" Kirra shouted, pulling away from the others as he started scanning the skies, searching for something. "I have to find Saiyo, my eagle. We were shot down, and I have to know if she''s all right."


    "Let''s go," Styx said, coming up on Kirra''s side and grasping his hand to pull him toward the wall of a nearby building. "As I said, I never forget a rooftop, and I think I know exactly where she''ll be."


    Styx turned back to Maxthane and said, "We''ll meet up in The Shade." He met Maxthane''s eyes as he added, "I promise."


    Maxthane nodded and smiled, and Styx and Kirra scaled the wall to the rooftop. Styx began a quick sprint to the north, pulling Kirra along with him. As they ran Styx cast several glances at the fiery demon that he could still see in the distance. His stomach lurched as he watched the demon pluck one of the Knights from the sky and crush it in its massive hand, spraying gore in every direction. He was glad that Kirra''s focus was directed ahead of them, rather than at the demon. If Styx knew the Knights who were being slaughtered as Kirra most likely did, he didn''t think he''d be able to keep going.


    They climbed over a rooftop near the place where they had fallen, and found Saiyo on the other side, lying on its back against the roof. "Saiyo!" Kirra shouted as he rushed toward the eagle. He stumbled across the roof tiles but hardly slowed his advance. Styx knew it wouldn''t make any difference how quickly Kirra made it to the eagle. The eagle wasn''t moving at all, and Styx was certain that she was dead. He didn''t have to approach it to know that the thick quill protruding from her chest had pierced something vital. Saiyo had been dead long before she crashed into the roof.


    But Kirra was too stricken by the sight to notice. As he reached the bird he hastily checked it for signs of life, and then set about removing the quill, drawing his sword and severing it with a single blow before reaching inside the wound to withdraw its tip. The eagle twitched as its nerves were triggered, and Kirra shouted in response, taking it as a sign that Saiyo might not be dead. He returned to his task with renewed energy, pulling the quill clean from the bird''s breast.


    Styx approached slowly as he watched Kirra go through the ordeal. It was painful to watch him, knowing that there was nothing that Kirra could do. Kirra would realize the truth soon enough, and Styx wished more than anything that he could spare him the pain of that loss, but he knew that he couldn''t and prepared for the next best thing.


    At the same instant that Kirra realized that Saiyo wasn''t breathing, Styx enveloped him from behind and pulled him into an embrace. "Saiyo!" Kirra screamed again, and tried to crawl back to her side, but Styx held him firm.


    "Kirra," Styx said soothingly as Kirra called Saiyo a third time. "Kirra, there''s nothing you can do." Kirra continued to struggle, but he slowly gave into Styx''s embrace and let himself be held while he stared at Saiyo''s body. Styx was surprised that he had been able to hold onto Kirra so easily, considering how much stronger Kirra was than him, but he hadn''t realized how weak and helpless Kirra was until he collapsed into Styx''s arms, sobbing.


    Eventually Kirra calmed enough for Styx to feel it was all right to release him. Kirra crawled back to his eagle and embraced his dead friend. Styx stood and turned away, giving Kirra his moment alone and turned his attention back toward the fiery demon, who was now fighting in the sky amidst a cloud of Knights.


    The Knights were losing badly, until one brave soul took a chance and jumped out of the saddle toward the demon''s wing. Styx heard Kirra cry out and turned to see that Kirra was now watching the unfolding battle as well. He was standing now, and wiping away the moisture from his eyes as he growled in the demon''s direction.


    "Let''s go," Kirra said firmly, his face a vengeful mask of determination. "The more of them we kill, the better."


    Styx couldn''t agree more.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    "Take me to your father''s body," Captain Rega said as he led Maxthane away from the bloody street. "I would like to see the King myself."


    "He was killed on the roof of Sabreeza''s estate," Maxthane explained as he took a step in that direction, supported by Rega. "Let''s go."


    The pair made their way slowly and carefully through the alleyways. Other soldiers met them along the way, and each received the same set of orders. Retreat into The Shade and wait by the entrance, and Rega and Maxthane would be down shortly to organize their return home. The soldiers who reported to them brought other news as well, death tolls from their engagements with the demons. They had lost a great many men, and from the number of severely injured soldiers who also joined their ranks they would lose even more before the day was done.


    Eventually they managed to reach the estate, and Maxthane struggled to make it up the steps to the roof. "You can wait for me here," Rega suggested, trying to guide Maxthane to take a seat on the steps. "I won''t be long."


    "No," Maxthane replied with grim determination. "I have to see this through. I need to see my father one more time before I return home. I have to remember what he looked like in his final moments if I''m going to tell the people of his legacy."


    Rega nodded and helped Maxthane struggle up each step, but once they arrived at the top Rega abandoned Maxthane and made his way to Salidar''s side while Maxthane was left to shuffle along after him.


    Rega shook his head as he looked over the wounds on Salidar''s stomach and face, which had begun to fester and turn a sickly shade of green. "You''re saying that Fasha did this?" He asked in disgust. Maxthane nodded and Rega continued, "How? Wasn''t Fasha your father''s familiar? Why would your father have allowed this to happen?"


    "It seems that Fasha has been playing tricks on us the entire time," Maxthane explained, looking at his father''s face as he somehow maintained his composure. "Fasha is a demon, and orchestrated the entire plan in an attempt to free his kin." His composure broke for a moment, and he took a deep breath to stifle the tears that came to his eyes. He looked away from his father so that the emotional image was no longer in his sight as he continued, "I didn''t know that demons could look like humans, but apparently they can. The only thing we can take away from this is that I don''t think he accomplished what he wanted." Maxthane gestured toward the distant plaza and Rega followed his gaze to see that a new pillar was beginning to form around the fiery demon. "It looks like the big one was just sealed up again."


    "So it would seem," Rega replied with a thoughtful expression. "Your father was a good man, Maxthane, if misunderstood. He wanted true freedom for The Shade, and that''s why I always followed him without question." He chuckled lightly and then laid a hand on Maxthane''s shoulder and squeezed it gently. "My grandfather would always tell me tales of the thulu''Khant line. They were thieves and vagabonds, sure, but that just went to show that they were no better than the rest of us. They had a sense of responsibility for those they watched over, and they were always honorable with those in their charge. ''Shadow honor'' was what my grandfather called it, and your father had it more than anyone else I ever knew."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    "I don''t think I can live up to that," Maxthane replied, wiping away a tear that slid down his cheek despite his best efforts at keeping it contained.


    "You may, or you may not," Rega replied with a shrug. "Not all of your ancestors have been equal in that regard," He explained with a supportive smile. "I think you have it in you though, and that''s why I supported you back there. I think you have what it takes to bring us back together, though you will encounter problems along the way."


    "I think I''ll encounter a few more than you may realize," Maxthane replied nervously, piquing Rega''s curiosity. "I have a confession to make, Rega. I freed the gladiators and brought them to Pentalus with the intention of stopping my father. There''s going to be some questions." With a sudden blush he added, "Especially from one soldier in particular who was tasked to guard the gladiators'' cell."


    Though his eyes had initially widened at the news, Rega shook his head and continued to smile supportively. "Maybe you''ll experience problems from that, but I think we''ll manage," he said, giving Maxthane''s shoulder another squeeze. "You were right to do so, I think. Imagine how much worse this would have been if we had freed one more demon!" His smile faded as he digested the thought. "Depending on how powerful it was, we might not have had any survivors. You saw the destruction that your father was going to bring about and tried to reason with him, but he couldn''t see past his own ambition." Nodding confidently he added, "I think you acted exactly how a King should have with your decision. I''ll be there to back you up, and most, if not all of the soldiers who were here today, will stand with us."


    "I hope you''re right," Maxthane replied, unconvinced. His doubt changed nothing. Whether the people accepted him or not, it was now his responsibility to make amends for his father''s actions. With a deep breath he smiled as confidently as he could at Rega and said, "Now let''s go home and see what kind of a mess we have to pull ourselves out of."


    Rega responded with a nod as he gestured back to the stairs that would take them back down. They would return to The Shade, and all would be well, or it wouldn''t. That was the way of The Shade, and it was now Maxthane''s responsibility to see that it worked out in the way that it should.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    The poison burned inside of Prism''s veins, threatening to steal his life away with every beat of his heart. The nanites were slowing the poison but it would end up killing him eventually, and he needed to use the time that he had left wisely. "What are you waiting for?" Prism goaded Fasha, making his voice sound as impatient as he could manage. He wanted Fasha to think that he was emotionally compromised, even though he was composed at his center. The quicker that Fasha decided to take advantage of any apparent weakness, the better off Prism would be. He had always fought better on the defensive.


    "I plan to savor every second of this," Fasha replied with a sinister grin. "Why rush?"


    "Whatever works for you," Prism replied, meeting the grin with a sneer. "You know, your brother died because he gave me time to think up a plan. Do you really plan to underestimate me like he did?"


    "It was you!? You killed him!?" Fasha replied with sudden rage. His body quivered as he glared at Prism with the promise of death in his eyes.


    "Yes, you pathetic creature," Prism spat, "and I''ll do everything in my power to make sure you share his fate."


    A low growl left Fasha''s lips as his vengeful eyes zeroed in on Prism. Fasha didn''t waste time on throwing his knives at the man as he would normally do. Instead he dashed toward Prism with great speed, his kris held backward in his hand and pointing behind him. Prism jumped backward as soon as Fasha came within range, but Fasha followed the maneuver easily and slashed across with his blade, aiming first for Prism''s throat. Prism ducked out of the way and Fasha reversed the blade and thrust it toward Prism''s stomach.


    Prism caught Fasha''s arm before the blade reached him and stepped toward Fasha, twisting his arm behind his back. The maneuver was meant to accomplish two goals. One was disarming his opponent, which seemed to have no effect on Fasha who continued to grip his blade tightly. The other purpose was to set him up to either pin or throw whomever he held in his grasp. Under normal circumstances he would immediately try for the pin, but he knew that employing that strategy with Fasha would only get him killed. Using all of his strength and channeling Fasha''s forward momentum into the throw, he released Fasha and sent him sprawling forward.


    Before Fasha could rise to his feet Prism was on the move, running in the opposite direction. The plaza was littered with rubble from their fight with the Ibrix demon, and Prism hoped that it would give him some semblance of cover to help him elude Fasha''s senses for a short time, while he reached his intended destination. The sound of flapping wings triggered his finely tuned hearing and told him that he would have no such opportunity.


    Activating his tattoos, the network of fine lines that covered his entire body except for his face, he coated his arm with thick metal and turned around just as the large raven was about to descend upon him with its talons. He punched out his metal arm, crushing the black bird''s beak brutally and knocking it from the sky. When the bird hit the ground it returned to the form it had held before, and Fasha stood before Prism again.


    Prism had anticipated the sudden shape-shift and kicked forward with his armored leg, activating the power of his tattoos again to increase the force of the blow. He hit Fasha in the chest with enough force to send him flying backward almost fifteen feet to land hard on his back. Knowing that Fasha would be practically uninjured and upon him again in a matter of seconds, Prism didn''t wait around for him to recover. He turned on his heel and sprinted away from the scene as fast as his legs could carry him.


    He was no longer focused on his defense, and Fasha noticed. Knives began to fly past Prism as he dashed across the rubble. One grazed his cheek and another sunk into his lower back, but still he kept running. The only thing that would make this fight winnable for him was directly ahead; the building Neredos had knocked the Ibrix into several minutes before had caught fire and was quickly becoming a raging inferno.


    Fasha caught up to him the moment he arrived at the doorway to the structure, and made his presence known by a flying kick to Prism''s exposed back. The blow sent Prism tumbling forward into the smoke-filled room, but his training allowed him to roll along the floor smoothly and come up standing, facing Fasha.


    "You''re good," Fasha said with a smirk. He was unfazed by the smoke, despite the thick cloud of it that swirled above his head. "Truly a master of your art, but it won''t save you."


    Prism crouched to avoid the smoke, though it was still stinging his eyes. He was somewhat surprised that Fasha had so readily followed him inside, considering the fires that dotted the room. His hope had been that Fasha would retreat when he saw the flames. From his understanding the Vhor had always been careful beings, focused on securing their own survival before any other goal, but something was different about Fasha. If what Grim had said to him in Salidar''s dungeon were true, this was not just any Vhor, but rather, the one who led the entire demon army. Perhaps he was strong enough to resist the fires that could kill his fellows. And if that were the case then Prism was as good as dead.


    "Salvation has never been the thing I''ve sought, Fasha," Prism replied, stifling a cough. "I''m trying to protect the world that you''re destroying."


    "Truly?" Fasha replied with a knowing grin. "What have I ever done to destroy your world? I''ve only been trying to live in it, unmolested," he explained with a bored expression. His face turned sour as he went on, "Your lover, Grim, on the other hand, spent his years hunting me, obsessed with one goal only - to end my life. You and your kind are the true killers here. Getting Salidar to free my brethren was only a matter of survival for me and my kind. Isn''t self-preservation a worthy goal?"


    "Why are you wasting your words, demon?" Prism snarled impatiently. "You have every intention of killing me, and yet you stand there chatting away as if I posed no danger to you. Are you really so confident in your abilities?" The instant the last word left his mouth, Prism bolted for one of the support beams holding up the ceiling. While Prism had his back turned to Fasha, Fasha moved in for the kill, stabbing forward with his kris. The blade pierced deep into Prism''s lower back, but Prism grunted and refused to let it slow his momentum.


    He kicked the beam with as much force as he could, causing it to split in two. The fire-weakened ceiling creaked in protest, and started to collapse down on them, flaming boards landing on their heads. Fasha screamed as the flames bit into his flesh, but he still had the upper hand. Prism could feel the burning of the poison and willed his nanites to counteract it, flooding his bloodstream with them to block the spread of the poison.


    Prism was left with very few options. He could run and hope to reach Veil, and hope that she could heal him in time, or he could try to finish off Fasha here and now while he was still trying to heal the damage the flames were dealing to him.


    It wasn''t a difficult choice for him to make.


    He snatched a curtain from beside the large window and threw it onto Fasha''s writhing form, and then grabbed a piece of burning timber with which to light it. The dry fabric ignited quickly, and Fasha began to scream even louder. Prism scanned the room for something else to add to the fire when he felt two sharp cuts, one on each of his ankles as Fasha lashed out at him from beneath the burning rubble, severing his tendons. Prism danced backward and then stumbled, his feet no longer able to support his weight. The wounds in his ankles were deep, and the burning venom inside told him it would be unlikely he would be able to make it out of the building in any way other than a crawl.


    While Fasha began to make headway in breaking free of the trap, Prism''s eyes focused on a side room that, from his vantage point, appeared to be a kitchen. He crawled toward the room, grunting at his limbs that were no longer responding as well as they should. There was too much of the poison in him now, and he couldn''t fight it at every wound. He had to make good use of the time he had left, for he would soon run out of it completely.


    He made it to the kitchen and scanned the room through the smoke. Sitting on the counter were several paper sacks labeled as common baking ingredients, and among them was the one Prism had hoped to find. Flour. He struggled to his feet and pulled himself along the wall until he reached the counter top.


    The kris once again found its home in his back as Fasha entered the room. Prism screamed in pain as he collapsed against the counter, giving Fasha opportunity to stab him again. Prism gritted his teeth through the pain as he reached for the sack of flour, but the kris pierced his shoulder, making it impossible for his arm to move. Prism collapsed, breathing heavily as he realized that he had failed.


    And then a knife spun through the air to pierce the sack of flour, sending a puff of it into the air, which exploded as it made contact with the nearby flames. Fasha staggered backward, clutching at his face as Styx raced into the inferno and retrieved the bag of flour. Tearing it open, he threw the entire bag at Fasha, coating him in the white powder.


    Fasha, Styx and Prism screamed as the cloud of flour ignited, exploding outward. Styx covered Prism with his body and then rolled over him to put out the flames that had ignited his clothing but Fasha was not as lucky. He ran from the building shrieking as the fire consumed his flesh, only to be met by Kirra who slashed into him. Kirra attempted to press the attack but Fasha had other ideas, rolling past Kirra as he clutched at his side. Kirra moved to pursue when Styx shouted his name. "Kirra! Help me move Prism! This whole building is about to collapse."


    Fasha was nowhere to be seen by the time they made it through the doorway and back to the street. They collapsed to the cobblestones less than ten feet from the entrance. The poison had almost reached Prism''s heart but he would fight it until his last breath. He hoped that he had done enough damage to Fasha, and that somehow he had been destroyed, but he knew that it was unlikely. Fasha would recover and then he would be back. The Vhor always came back.


    Arms wrapped around him and lifted him from the cobblestones. His eyes focused on the image of Styx whom he had come to know well over the past few days. "Prism!" he heard Styx shout, although it seemed as if he were much further away than the touch of his hands would suggest. "Quick, we have to get him to Veil! He''s dying!"


    The mention of Veil''s name brought Prism back to the moment, and though the poison had nearly run its course, he managed to find a moment of clarity. "No, Styx. It''s too late for that now." He groaned as the toxin pumped through his chest. "Listen, you are one of the few capable of stopping this mess," he reached up with his last remaining strength and lay his hand against Styx''s face to make sure that Styx focused on the words he was about to say. "You have to free Grim. It''s the only way. Only he can kill the Vhor. Then¡ª"


    Prism''s body seized up as the poison entered his heart and burned as if a piece of molten iron had just been thrust into its chambers. He screamed brutally, until he was left gasping for air. "Prism!" Styx shouted, but the cry fell on deaf ears. There was only enough strength left for one last attempt to push Styx in the right direction.


    "Find . . . Ghayle . . ." Prism gasped, and then he was gone. The light faded from his eyes as his heart stopped, and his body gave one last violent shudder before falling limp in Styx''s arms.


    "Dammit!" Styx cried as he checked for a pulse, though he knew he wouldn''t find one. When his search confirmed that Prism had expired, Styx clutched the man''s body close to him and let the tears flow. He had followed Prism for only two days, but he had become closer to him than almost anyone else he had ever known. It couldn''t end like this, it just couldn''t. Prism was dead, and there was nothing he could do to change it.


    Styx let the tears flow for several minutes, as he felt Kirra''s consoling hand rub his back. He then lowered Prism''s body to the cobblestones gently. This was the moment that Prism had warned him about, and he wasn''t going to let the man''s lesson go to waste. He wiped his tears away and stared at Prism''s lifeless face, refusing to allow himself to mourn any longer. Prism was gone and it was time to move on; the responsibility was now his to carry, as Prism had charged him. He stood and surveyed the courtyard, seeing the destruction that the demon had wrought. There was no going back to who he had been just days ago, the time before he had been dragged into the middle of this by the man who lay at his feet. He had watched good men die, and worse men triumph, time and time again, and he would no longer be allowed to sit on the side, simply trying to survive.


    What good was survival if there wasn''t a world worth living in?

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 25: Descending

    It felt surreal to be entering The Shade again so soon, and to be doing so through the main entrance instead of sneaking in. While Maxthane had expected things to be different now that his father was dead, he still thought of the grand cavern as his home, but for some reason it didn''t feel familiar to him anymore as he stepped onto the staircase that would lead him down into the depths. It felt like he was entering a whole new world.


    His stomach fluttered and he felt as if he were going to be sick as he took his first step down the grand staircase. He was entering a whole new world, and things would never be the same. Though he had discussed the matter to some degree with Captain Rega, he hadn''t felt the loss of his father so deeply until he entered the realm that Salidar had ruled.


    Even the Elroks who had been tasked to guard the entrance regarded him with concern as he staggered to the wall, supporting himself with an outstretched hand. He waved away the soldiers who came to offer their assistance to him, knowing that to accept their offer would show them his weakness. He had to be strong now, no matter what. That was what it meant to be a king.


    He calmed his fluttering stomach and straightened, turning back to the men with his face composed and his eyes showing confidence. It would be a long walk down, but he could no longer allow Rega to be his support. It was time to show his soldiers that he was prepared to be their leader.


    "Men, we have injured among us," Maxthane proclaimed. "We will return to the palace as quickly as possible, that they may get the attention that they require, but we will also keep a pace that will prevent further injury." Turning to Rega he ordered, "Captain Rega, you and I will take point together, so that the whole Shade will know that we have returned. Let us return home with our heads held high. We may not have won the day, but we fought our best, and that is all I could ask of any of you."


    The soldiers saluted and quickly organized themselves into some semblance of ranks, with the able-bodied supporting those who were less fortunate. Several of the injured were carried on makeshift stretchers that had been formed out of scraps of cloth and spear hafts. Once all was organized, Maxthane moved slowly to the front with Rega and started down the staircase again.


    Rega did not attempt to engage him in conversation, and for that Maxthane was glad. He wanted some time to sort out his thoughts, and he was sure that he would be unable to keep the fatigue from showing in his voice if he were forced to speak. Walking was still a chore since he had exhausted himself so completely, but he would not show that to his men. As he had ordered them to do, he held his head high and walked with determination toward the future that awaited him


    The procession was silent, and he wondered if his soldiers were likewise reflecting on the events of the day. All of them had seen friends die, or at the least found that they were not among the survivors. The people of Pentalus misunderstood those who lived in The Shade. Shades were seen as little more than vagabonds and criminals, but that didn''t make them any less human. They cared for those that surrounded them, even if the ways they showed it were often different. Shades had every bit as much capacity for love and loyalty as those living in the lighted world above.


    In the distance he could see the shaft of light that marked where the Ibrix demon had broken through the ceiling of the cavern. The light travelled all the way to where the rubble from the collapse lay piled on the cavern floor. Homes had once stood in that spot, but any who had been in them were now surely dead. Though the dead were unlikely to be anyone of renown in The Shade, the loss of their lives would be felt in the community. Death may have been common in The Shade, but catastrophes were not.


    He made a mental note to send men out to those boulders to search for the bodies of the dead. They needed to be remembered, and it would serve him well to make sure that his people knew that he was the one who remembered them. Perhaps there was still a way to turn this tragedy into a way to strengthen his position.


    A low growl escaped his lips at the thought. Here he was trying to turn a tragedy into a political maneuver, and that wasn''t like him at all. The people needed to be remembered, and that was it. How the people thought of him afterword was irrelevant. Life was sacred, and he needed to know the names of the dead. Grim had taught him that. He clung to the thought like a lifeline in the sea of confusion that threatened to drown him at any second. He would not forget the sanctity of life. He would not become his father. The ends did not justify the means, and no amount of political gain would tempt him enough that he would give up his soul.


    He quickened his pace, gritting his teeth against the exhaustion. The soldiers behind him followed suit, and the troop soon arrived at the marketplace, which would lead them straight to the Underking''s palace. Those who stood offering their wares in their decrepit stalls watched the procession in silence. Maxthane could feel their eyes upon him. They couldn''t have known yet that Salidar had fallen, but he couldn''t shake the feeling that they were judging him; evaluating him as their new king.


    His first instinct was to get out of there as soon as possible, to increase their pace even further, but he knew that he would just be running from his responsibility. His father would have met their stares with stoic regality, keeping himself composed and refusing to let the people see that their stares mattered, but Maxthane was not his father. He had to react in a way that suited his nature. Turning to look at the crowd, he forced a warm smile onto his face and moved it from person to person as they walked by. Each person who saw his face reacted with surprise, and some even smiled back.


    The smiles distracted him from his exhaustion, and before he knew it they were leaving the marketplace behind as they strode across the bridge. The Elroks who stood on the other side regarded Maxthane curiously. He understood why, for they had seen him leave the complex less than a day before and in the company of the gladiators. Thankfully they did nothing more than stare at him until he passed by. On the other hand, the human guards who stood in front of the gate had other ideas.


    "Prince Maxthane!" One of the guards shouted in surprise. Maxthane recognized him as one of the men whom he had personally helped to incapacitate during their escape. His name was Krythe, and had been left in command of the complex while Rega was absent.


    "Don''t be alarmed, Krythe," Maxthane explained with an upraised hand, "there was a reason for my actions, and all will be explained in time." Without waiting to see if Krythe accepted his words, Maxthane turned back to Rega and instructed, "Captain Rega, please get everyone settled."


    "As you command, my King," Captain Rega replied loudly enough to be heard clearly by the human guards, motioning for the gates to be opened to allow all to enter. The guards visibly relaxed as Rega obeyed Maxthane''s order and they opened the gates quickly, allowing the entire procession to enter without any further delay. Once inside, the soldiers made haste to get the injured to beds where they could rest and have their wounds tended to.


    "King?" Krythe asked in confusion. He looked Maxthane up and down before turning to Rega with a quizzical expression. "Captain, what''s going on?"


    "My father was killed during the attack on Pentalus," Maxthane explained before Rega could even open his mouth. He could hear gasps coming from behind him and paused until the news set in. "The plan failed and we were forced to withdraw."


    "Unfortunately it''s true," Rega jumped in, drawing the attention of the skeptical crowd. "I saw King Salidar''s body with my own eyes. Our king has died and with him the rebellion has died as well." With a faint smile toward Maxthane, he added, "At least for now."


    "How did he die?" Krythe asked with an unreadable expression.


    "We were all betrayed by Fasha," Maxthane explained patiently. "I had learned that Fasha was manipulating events and went to inform my father, but I was too late. That''s why I escaped from here as I did." He hoped that they would accept the answer, even though it was technically a lie. He hadn''t known of Fasha''s intent to betray his father until he had experienced it firsthand.


    "And the gladiators?" Krythe asked skeptically. "Why did you free them?"


    "Am I to understand that you did not have orders to keep me locked away?" Maxthane asked with a hint of anger. "I needed men if I was to free myself and go to my father''s side, and none of you would have gone against my father''s word over mine. I needed them, and by freeing them they pledged their loyalty to me," he added dismissively, as if the point was no longer relevant. He met Krythe''s eyes and said with as much bravado as he could muster, "I would ask that you do the same."


    "And you shall have it," Rega declared as he stepped up beside Maxthane, meeting the eyes of the soldiers who stood before them. "I have already pledged to the service of King Maxthane, who else will join me?"


    Cries rose up from the ranks as the soldiers declared their loyalty, and even Krythe joined the chorus. But there was something in the soldier''s eyes that told Maxthane that the man was not yet convinced, and a quick survey of the crowd told him that Krythe was not alone in his skepticism. For the moment it wouldn''t matter. With Captain Rega''s support the dust had already begun to settle, and with any luck he would win Krythe over before the soldier decided to stir things up.


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    The Knights continued to flood the sky, forming a network to protect the city should any more demons made their presence known. Kirra knew that they would be disappointed, and no more demons would appear for them to test their mettle against. The cost had been great, but they had driven Salidar back. It was over; they had won.


    He stared down at Prism''s body. It almost seemed fitting that he should find his resting place here, amongst the ruins of a demon''s slaughter, after having helped to vanquish the beast. A true hero''s death, and there was no hero more deserving than Prism, the legendary monk who had earned his place in the history books of long ago and now would grace their pages yet again.


    "Where do we go from here?" Kirra asked as he approached Styx, who was still staring at the carnage around them with a blank expression.


    "I have no idea," Styx replied without hesitation. He turned back to look Kirra in the eye as he shook his head and amended his previous statement, "Other than what Prism asked of me."


    "What do you mean?" Kirra asked in confusion, gesturing to the new pillar that stood where Ibrix had been imprisoned again. "It looks to me as if the threat is over. We''ve won."


    "Something tells me that we''re not done yet," Styx replied with a humorless smile. "Prism was adamant about what he told me as he died," Styx explained, "He told me to ''free'' Grim, whatever that means, and he told me to search out Ghayle."


    "Who''s Grim?" Kirra asked. He considered repeating the question but replacing the name with ''Ghayle'' this time but decided that it would be better to keep it to one question at a time.


    "He''s an acquaintance," Styx replied simply. "I didn''t know him well, but he saved my life once." He smiled at the memory of Grim despite their current setting, and then shook his head to clear away the nostalgic haze, before he went on, "Dogo said that he was up here with the gladiators, but I don''t see him anywhere. For that matter, I don''t see any of the gladiators at all," He observed as he squinted at the bodies around them, "Unless they''re amongst the dead."


    "So, what is your plan then?"


    "I guess I''ll find Dogo and ask him if he''s heard from Grim," Styx replied thoughtfully. "I have a suspicion that he''ll have already returned to The Shade now that the dust has settled. He wouldn''t want to stay up here in the aftermath. The Knights know that it was Shades who freed the demons in the first place, and they aren''t going to wait to find out if the gladiators were working with Salidar, or not," he explained dryly. "It''s not safe for any of us here, not even me. I''ll be headed down there myself, I think."


    "To return to your Prince?" Kirra asked with a touch of bitterness.


    "Kirra . . ." Styx began, looking Kirra in the eye as he tried to search for the right words to combat the hurt tone in the knight''s voice. "No. I won''t deny that Maxthane has something to do with it, but I want you to come with me." Styx shook his head as he continued more firmly, "No, I need you to come with me. I can''t do this alone. Hell, I''m not even sure I can do this at all, but Prism was right, I have to try. It''s almost like his death meant he passed the responsibility on to me, and maybe it was fate that he dragged me along this whole time, but I have to do something."


    "I don''t think I have a place in The Shade any more than you do up here, Styx," Kirra replied.


    "Look around us," Styx said, gesturing to the ruined plaza. "Look at the destruction that was caused by one single demon. We can''t let this happen again, and I intend to make sure that it doesn''t." He met Kirra''s eyes again as he added, "I''m going to need your help, and your support."


    Kirra stared back at the blue eyes which now seemed so deep, so filled with purpose, when before they had carried nothing but the aching desire to survive. He looked away, ashamed by the lustful thoughts that rolled about in his mind. There was a depth in Styx that he had never seen before, and he wondered if Styx had ever realized it in himself. He was wrong to think that Styx had any intentions other than what he had already revealed.


    He scanned the plaza as Styx had directed, and the carnage that littered the area. There would be no denying that this tragedy had occurred, or the necessity to prevent it from happening again. His personal feelings aside, he needed to see this through, but that didn''t mean his pride would let him make it easy for Styx. "I suppose Prism did ask me to stay with you, regardless of what happened," Kirra said with a dramatic sigh. "All right, let''s go. But once we find out that everything is going to be all right I''m going to return to Lady Alsha and make my report."


    "I guess that will have to do," Styx replied with a tight smile. Touching Kirra''s arm lightly he gestured ahead of them and said, "Come on, the faster we get down there, the better."


    "What about Prism''s body?" Kirra asked, looking down at Prism.


    "What about it?" Styx replied, "The dead are of no use to us." Without another word he began to walk away, glancing over his shoulder only once to see if Kirra was following.


    Kirra glanced one more time at Prism''s body before following Styx. While he wasn''t sure he agreed with the idea of leaving Prism behind, Styx was right that the faster they moved forward the sooner everything would be resolved. He trotted to catch up to Styx and walk by his side, though once he saw Styx''s path he began to question his friend''s sanity. Styx was walking directly to the edge of the large hole that had been smashed into the courtyard, which seemed to lead to an endless abyss of darkness.


    "Wait," Kirra said hesitantly, "Don''t tell me we''re going down that way?"


    "It''s the fastest route," Styx replied with a shrug. "Don''t you trust me?"


    Inhaling deeply, Kirra nodded and followed Styx until they stood at the edge. Styx looked at him and smiled, reaching up to brush his cheek before wrapping his arms around Kirra, pulling him into the void as he jumped off the edge.


    Kirra screamed as they fell into the darkness, until he realized how slowly they were falling. Styx seemed to be guiding them as they fell, in complete control of their descent, and Kirra began to relax into Styx''s embrace. Styx was grateful Kirra was lighter than Prism, and it didn''t tax the limits of his magic at all, and he relaxed along with Kirra.


    They continued to fall for several minutes until they eventually came to rest softly on a ledge deep within the cavern. Kirra landed first, with Styx landing on top of him. Styx''s hair was lit by the distant point of light above them, which showed their point of entry. The light made Styx seem to glow, and Kirra could not take his eyes off of the beautiful sight above him. If he hadn''t already developed feelings for Styx, he would have fallen in love all over again.


    "Kirra," Styx said softly, his eyes conflicted.


    "Yes?" Kirra replied breathlessly, overcome by the presence of the boy above him.


    "Thanks for coming with me," Styx said with a smile, and the conflict in his eyes died away. For a brief moment Kirra wondered what it had been about, but then Styx surprised him by locking their lips together with a deep and passionate kiss. Every doubt in Kirra''s mind melted away as he responded, pulling Styx down onto him.


    Every emotion that Styx had kept bottled up over the past few days came to the forefront and became channeled into his passion. He ground himself into Kirra, aggressively exploring every inch of him that he could reach with his hands or mouth. He needed an escape from the pain, the sorrow, the death that had surrounded him, and he searched for it within the flesh of the Knight whom he had come to love.


    Kirra was no more restrained, and he found himself tearing at Styx''s clothes, uncovering every point he could to make contact with Styx''s smooth skin. As Styx attacked his neck with kisses, Kirra responded by running his hands down Styx''s back and neck, tracing every curve of his muscles and reveling in the feeling of the flesh he had longed to touch. Only moments before, Kirra had doubted that he would ever know how it felt to have Styx in his arms, and this entire scene seemed so surreal he was sure he was dreaming.


    As their lips met again in another kiss of passion, Kirra was assured it was not a dream. Kirra grabbed the back of Styx''s head and kept him locked in the kiss, refusing to let Styx''s mouth roam anywhere else while he reached with his other hand to rip away the shirt that kept him from Styx''s torso. As the cloth was torn away the sound of tearing fabric echoed off the nearby walls. Kirra moved both of his hands to Styx''s now exposed chest and pushed up with his back, rolling them both over so that he was now on top.


    Kirra began to explore Styx more thoroughly, pinning Styx with his hands while he kissed down Styx''s neck until he reached his chest. Styx moaned as Kirra added to his ministrations with his tongue, Styx''s mind exploding with the sensation from Kirra''s passion.


    Kirra was lost in the moment. This was a fulfillment of everything he had ever dreamed of, and he couldn''t think of a more perfect person to experience it with. It took him several seconds to realize that Styx was calling for him to stop, and when he did he pulled back and stared at Styx with confusion.


    "I hate to be a mood killer," Styx said with a smile, "but we''re on the edge of a cliff. We should probably continue this later."


    Glancing to the side Kirra saw that Styx was right. They were less than a foot from rolling off the ledge they had landed on. He chuckled as he turned back to Styx and said, "I guess we got carried away, didn''t we."Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Styx pulled him down for another quick kiss and replied, "It''s all right. I think we both needed that. I have to come clean with you though."


    "What do you mean?" Kirra asked cautiously.


    "About Maxthane," Styx explained with a sigh. "The truth is, Kirra, I have feelings for both of you."


    "Then why are you toying with me?" Kirra replied angrily.


    "I''m not," Styx replied and then growled in frustration. He motioned that he wanted to sit up and Kirra moved to accommodate him. The mood was already dead anyway. "Kirra," Styx began again, "I have a proposition for you."


    "And what would that be?" Kirra asked in exasperation.


    "Get to know Maxthane," Styx replied evenly. "You''re viewing this as a competition, and it doesn''t have to be."


    "What are you implying?" Kirra returned, confused by the suggestion.


    "I''m in love with you, Kirra, I knew that from the first time I looked into your eyes," Styx explained with a wry smile. "The thing is, the same is true with Maxthane. I want you both, I need you both, and I intend to have both of you. You might as well try to get used to the idea."


    Kirra stared at Styx, dumbfounded by the suggestion. Styx looked at him with a mischievous grin and then stood, extending his hand down to Kirra to help him to his feet. It took Kirra a moment to take the offered hand and allow Styx to pull him up. When he did he simply stared at Styx, an unreadable expression on his face.


    Styx wasn''t looking back. Instead he was staring at the tattered remains of the shirt that lay discarded on the rocks beside them. Glancing back at Kirra he said with a happy chuckle, "Now you''ve destroyed two of my shirts. Next time you could just ask me to take it off."


    It was exactly the right thing to say to break up the awkwardness of the situation, and despite his confused feelings about what Styx had just said, Kirra couldn''t suppress his hearty laugh at the remark. "Next time?" he echoed and then shook his head helplessly, unable to remove the smile that now crossed his face. "I suppose I can try to get used to that idea. You''re incredible, you know that?"


    "I''ve been called worse," Styx replied with a shrug. "Come on, I want you to meet my mother."


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    It took the better part of an hour to get the wounded settled and to gather the best healers The Shade had to offer. Maxthane intended to help with the healing as soon as he was rested and bore the entire delay with as much patience as he could, but by the time everyone was settled most of his energy was spent. He excused himself and began the slow climb to his chambers.


    Rega saw how exhausted Maxthane had become and excused himself as well, to accompany him and make sure he arrived safely to his rooms. Maxthane was more than glad to have Rega''s support, and as soon as the two of them were out of sight of everyone else he leaned on Rega''s arm for support. He continued to lean on Rega until they reached Maxthane''s chambers and he opened the door to step inside. Rega stopped at the entrance but only after Maxthane waved him forward did he follow him into his room.


    "I''m worried, Rega," Maxthane admitted with a sigh, as he sat down on the edge of his bed, motioning for Rega to take a seat in the wooden chair that sat before his writing desk. "I didn''t like the look in Krythe''s eyes. I get the feeling that he doesn''t believe our story of what happened to my father."


    "It won''t matter," Rega replied with a supportive smile. "Trust me, my King, Krythe will come around. We are close, he and I, and eventually he''ll approach me about the issue privately," he explained as he patted Maxthane''s arm, before turning toward the offered chair and sitting down. "When he hears my full account of what happened on the surface, he''ll change."


    "But what if he doesn''t?" Maxthane asked. "He''s not the only one who showed dissent today."


    "Did they not publicly accept you when I called on them to?" Rega asked with a raised eyebrow. "What more do you require?"


    "I''m not sure," Maxthane replied sullenly. "I don''t know if I''m actually ready for this."


    "King Maxthane," Rega began, "I doubt very few people are ready to be King when the responsibility is thrust upon them. Maybe we could do something to settle your mind." When Maxthane turned toward him with a curious expression Rega continued, "Have you heard of the Rites of the Shadow King? It''s an outdated ritual, but my grandfather told me tales of it."


    "Of course," Maxthane replied with a nod. "It''s how Kings officially succeeded each other for generations here in The Shade. We haven''t done it that way for over a century. Why do you bring it up now?"


    "We could unite all of The Shade behind you if we invoke the Rites," Rega explained. "We''ll send out messengers to the guild masters and bring them to us for the official ceremony. Considering what has happened, I''m sure the Council of Guilds would want to seek unity in this troubled time."


    "Very well, I''ll follow your wisdom," Maxthane agreed with a sigh. "I don''t know if I''ll be up to the task, but I''m willing to give it a shot. Anything to try to calm my nerves." Rega smiled at him in a manner that almost seemed paternal, and brought emotions back to Maxthane he had been repressing since his father''s death. "Father," he whispered, looking away from Rega and fighting back tears as he replayed his father''s final moments in his mind. "Why did you have to leave me with this mess?"


    "It''s going to work out, Maxthane," Rega said, rising to lay a comforting hand on Maxthane''s bare shoulder. Rega''s calloused fingers somehow felt soft against his skin as he gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to go. "I''ll go prepare the messengers right now."


    "Before you go," Maxthane said, stopping Rega immediately. "I have one more favor to ask."


    "What is it, my king?"


    "There is one guild I would like you to visit personally," Maxthane answered with a sudden smile. The thought of seeing Styx again had stopped his tears almost immediately. "I need you to go to the Inkblades and request Madame Godani''s presence yourself, as well as that of her son."


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    "Hey, where are you? I can''t see a thing down here?" Kirra stumbled through the darkness, following the nearly silent footfalls of Styx. He was unable to see more than his hand in front of his face, and that only when he put it between his eyes and the distant flickering torches. If he didn''t have his Gor heritage to help him hear he doubted he would have been able to keep up at all.


    "Dammit, you''re right!" Styx replied, and Kirra heard the sound of Styx returning to his side. "You just about walked off a ledge," Styx continued with amusement. "Come on, give me your hand. I''ll lead you."


    Kirra held his hand out and Styx grasped it immediately. Styx clearly didn''t have a problem seeing in the dark, and as he pulled Kirra along it became even more apparent. Their pace quickened as Kirra learned to trust in Styx''s steps, and before long they entered the more populated section of The Shade.


    Styx kept them out of sight, staying in the areas where the shadows were thickest as they moved from alleyway to alleyway. Kirra wondered who Styx was so worried about noticing them, but then he realized that it was probably him who Styx was concerned with. Kirra was still wearing his armor, and even without it there would be no doubt he was not a Shade. He decided that just as he trusted Styx to guide him through the darkness, he would have to trust the knowledge Styx had about this unfamiliar territory.


    Before long they came to a massive structure at the base of a large pillar. Kirra had been brought up in the Everbright City, which was known for its impressive architecture, but there was a certain elegance to how this structure was laid out. That fact seemed unimportant when compared with another detail; the entire building was bathed in light, and for the first time since they had arrived in The Shade he didn''t feel completely lost.


    The structure had one large door on the side that Kirra expected Styx to lead him to, but instead he was pulled toward the only section of wall completely covered in shadows. Styx turned to him and smiled, "Follow my climb as well as you can. I''ll use my foot to show you where the hand holds are," Styx said and then released Kirra''s hand and started up the wall, holding onto hidden handholds that Kirra couldn''t quite make out.


    Kirra was able to follow Styx most of the way up until he disappeared from sight as he scrambled up onto a ledge and called back down to him, "You''re doing well, just a couple more feet."


    Kirra allowed the words to spur him on and climbed up onto the platform that awaited him. Styx helped him up and to his feet, and only then did he realize just how tiring the climb had been. "That''s brutal," he said between breaths, "why didn''t we just enter through the front door?"


    "Quit nagging," Styx replied with a smile. "Let''s go in."


    ''In'' turned out to be a hidden hallway that was a very tight fit. Kirra was surprised it could be considered an entrance at all until he stepped through the narrow space and into a well lit room, where a middle-aged man with a painted eye patch stood to greet them.


    "Styx?" Drake said in surprise, and then a grin spread across his face. "Whoa, you''re back! What the devil are you doing here? I didn''t expect to see you in The Shade for quite some time, and yet you''re back two days later!"


    "Listen, Drake," Styx said quickly, ignoring Drake''s enthusiasm, "have you heard from Dogo? I need to see him as soon as I can."


    "Dogo? What would he be doing here?" Drake asked in confusion. "He left yesterday in the company of Prince Maxthane and the gladiators he freed from his father," he explained when Styx''s face showed his disappointment. "They were going to the surface to try to stop the demons. I would have thought that you''d be there with them, considering how your companion was speaking."


    "We met up briefly, but then we were separated," Styx replied. "I thought he would be here by now."


    "Styx?" Madame Godani spoke up from the doorway that led further into the complex. She stepped into the light, and Kirra was immediately overcome by her beauty. He had never had a woman affect him in any way before, but for some reason this one did. Looking from Styx to Madame Godani, he suddenly knew why. She resembled Styx in many ways, and it was obvious to Kirra that they were blood related. "What in the world!?" Madame Godani asked, glancing between Kirra and Styx, "You brought a Knight with you?"


    "Madame Godani," Styx addressed her patiently, "this is Kirra, and he''s a friend."


    "Humph. Sure he is," Madame Godani replied dryly, crossing her arms over her chest, "And I''m a noblewoman from the Everbright City!"


    Making every effort to sound serious in the face of such a ridiculous statement Kirra interjected, "Oh? Which house?"


    Styx and Drake stared at him as if he had lost his mind, but then looked at Madame Godani in surprise when she started laughing. "I like him," she said, winking at Styx. Turning back to Kirra she said, "Very well, you can stay, but why are you here? Does this have anything to do with the sunlight that is now threatening to destroy our quaint little home?"


    "No," Styx replied, drawing her attention back to him. "Remember those demons that Prism tried to warn you about? One of them did that." With a smug expression he added, "I guess The Shade wasn''t safe after all, now was it?"


    "Don''t get snippy with me, child," Madame Godani scolded, eyeing Styx dangerously. "You''ve made your point. Now, is that why you came?"


    "No, I came seeking Dogo," Styx replied, dropping his smugness. "He has information I need."


    "Does he now?" She asked with mock disbelief. "Why did you come here for that? I do not normally have dealings with the Watchdog."


    "Spare me your dodging words, Godani," Styx growled in response, "I know who the highest bidder was."


    For the briefest of moments Madame Godani looked shocked by the implication, but she quickly regained her composure. "Very well. The truth of the matter is that I was wondering where he was myself," she admitted. "He was due back by now, unless he died in the process."


    "Let''s hope that isn''t the case," Styx replied, as the blood drained from his face.


    "Perhaps I could be of assistance in that regard?" a gruff voice said from the darkness of the entrance. Rega stepped around the corner with his hands raised in a sign of peace.


    "Albran Rega," Madame Godani said with a slight smile and Rega bowed to her with dramatic flair. "What an interesting surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?"


    "King Maxthane thulu''Khant would like to request the attendance of your regalness, Fau Shae Godani, and your ward, Styx," Rega explained. "Maxthane is to be officially crowned within the hour, as per the Rites of the Shadow King."


    Styx was surprised at the news. He had never heard of an official coronation of The Underking, and had never heard of the title ''Shadow King'' either. If Madame Godani shared his surprise she did not show it. Without any hesitation she asked, "Am I to serve as first witness to the coronation?"


    "Indeed, Madame Godani. You lead the Council of Guilds do you not?" He asked with a smile, but then narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Or has there been a change in leadership that the King was not kept informed of."


    "No there has not," Madame Godani replied firmly. "Why do you request the attendance of Styx?"


    "I''m told that he already knows the answer, Madame Godani," Rega answered with a shrug. "King Maxthane did not give me the authority to say any more on the subject."


    "As loyal as ever," Madame Godani muttered with a smile. "Very well, I shall prepare at once."


    "Captain Rega," Styx interjected before Madame Godani could turn to leave. "I will be bringing Kirra with me as well."


    "A Knight of the Firmament? Are you out of your mind?" Rega looked from Styx to Kirra and then back to Styx again, his eyes wide at the suggestion. "I don''t care if he killed that demon today, I''m afraid I can''t allow him to enter the complex."


    "Then you won''t have my attendance," Styx replied, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.


    "That is not acceptable," Rega growled, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.


    "Let the Knight come, Albran," Madame Godani said, laying a hand on Kirra''s shoulder as she addressed the captain. "He''s harmless."


    "No," Rega replied with a firm shake of his head.


    "Then you will not have my attendance either," Madame Godani said as she crossed her own arms over her chest, mimicking Styx''s position perfectly with the same look of defiance in her eyes.


    Rega growled and released his grip on his sword hilt. "Very well," he said after a pause, "but I will be watching your every move, Knight."


    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    Kirra was completely out of his depth as he joined Madame Godani''s small procession on its way toward the Underking''s complex. While Styx had led him through the shadows of the back alleys to avoid notice, Godani and her entourage were walking openly in the lighted streets, and he suddenly felt very vulnerable. He could feel the eyes of the people on him, despite the heavy cloak that now covered his armor. Somehow they knew that he didn''t belong among them, and he agreed with them whole-heartedly.


    As they passed over the bridge he took in the sight of the towering Elroks that guarded it. He had never seen an Elrok before, but he had heard tales of their ferocity throughout his childhood. Stories meant to scare a child into obeying, and he was certain, now that he saw their hulking forms, that the stories must have been based in fact, and he was glad when the Elroks paid no heed to their passing. The Shade was becoming more frightening by the minute, and he had been here less than a day. This was the world that Styx belonged to, but he didn''t think he''d ever become comfortable living in this place. It was too alien.


    Styx reached out and took Kirra''s hand in his own, giving it a firm squeeze. Kirra looked to Styx in surprise, to see him smiling supportively. The look in Styx''s eyes melted away all of Kirra''s concerns, and the love he saw there filled him with the determination to see this through. He squeezed Styx''s hand back and then let it go, nodding to show his appreciation for the gesture.


    They stepped through the gates and into the courtyard, where Captain Rega greeted them. With a gruff voice he explained that Styx and Kirra were to be brought to Maxthane''s chambers, while Madame Godani and her entourage joined the representatives from the other guilds. They followed Rega in silence as he led them through the complex, both sensing that Rega was in a foul mood concerning their presence.


    By the time they reached Maxthane''s chambers Rega appeared to have calmed down. With an unreadable expression Rega knocked on Maxthane''s door, an excited Maxthane immediately opened it. Styx was immediately blown away by the boy''s appearance. Instead of the simple dhoti that Maxthane normally wore around his waist, he was dressed in formal black leather armor, cut in the same style as his father''s had always been. It looked as if it had never been worn. A sweet scent of perfume teased his nostrils as well, and the clean look to Maxthane''s hair indicated that he had bathed in preparation for this event as well.


    "Styx!" Maxthane said excitedly, gesturing for them to enter his chambers. He then turned his attention to Kirra and said, "And Kirra as well!? I''m surprised to see that you ventured down into The Shade."


    "I came with Styx," Kirra replied defensively. "No other reason."


    "Is there something I should know?" Maxthane asked Styx with a raised eyebrow as his smile faltered a little.


    "Yes there is, but don''t be put off by Kirra''s defensive nature," Styx replied with a grin, "He''s simply warming up to the idea rather slowly."


    "What idea?" Maxthane asked, but instead of a vocal answer Styx stepped up to him and kissed him passionately, pulling Maxthane toward him and wrapping him into a tight embrace. The action lasted for only a few seconds, but to Maxthane it felt like an eternity of bliss. He felt a loss when Styx pulled away, and the loss turned to shock as Styx then turned and kissed Kirra just as passionately. Kirra was no less surprised by the open display of affection, but when Maxthane started giggling Kirra turned to stare at him in disbelief. Kirra''s expression caused Maxthane to laugh even louder until Captain Rega poked his head into the room to see what was causing the ruckus. Upon seeing that Maxthane was all right, Rega closed the door silently and left them alone again.


    "I''m afraid I have a confession to make, Max," Styx said, as soon as Maxthane''s laughter had subsided. "I''m in love with both of you, and you can either accept that or you can be the one to give me up."


    "Styx," Maxthane replied with a pleasant smile, "we''re Shades. Since when have we followed conventional rules? I don''t care if you''re in love with Kirra as long as I get you too."


    "See, Kirra?" Styx said as he pulled Kirra close to him. "Nothing to worry about."


    "Besides," Maxthane replied with a seductive smile as he looked Kirra up and down, "You''re a good looking guy yourself. Maybe we can work this out?"


    Kirra wasn''t so sure. He had never imagined that this would be how things turned out, but if it meant that he''d have a shot at Styx he''d be willing to give it a try. He smiled weakly at Maxthane and was about to say that he''d make the attempt when Rega poked his head into the room and said, "It''s time, my King."


    "Well then, I guess we''ll come back to this later," Maxthane said with a sigh. With a nervous smile he touched first Styx''s arm and then reached out and touched Kirra''s. "I''m so glad you''re here, both of you. Let''s get this over with."


    They walked back toward the courtyard at a brisk pace, leaving little opportunity for conversation, but it did give Kirra some time with his thoughts. Maybe this wouldn''t be so bad. Maxthane did seem all right, and maybe it would all work out. Only time would tell, but he was determined to see it through.


    They entered the courtyard, which held far more people than it had when they had first arrived. Many were soldiers dressed in black leather, and Kirra and Styx were directed to stand amongst these while Maxthane left them to join an arc of thirteen wooden chairs, twelve of which were occupied, that had been set up in a half circle on a raised platform. In the center of the arc was a table that had been set with a silver chalice beside a folded, white cloth. Maxthane went straight to the empty chair and sat down, generating excited murmurs from the watching crowd.


    The courtyard went silent as Madame Godani stood from her place in the arc. She hadn''t needed to say a word at all, or even gesture to get their attention. Her presence seemed to permeate throughout the crowd, in such a way that everyone present knew it was her turn to act. The other guild heads watched solemnly from their seats as she withdrew a thin stiletto from her belt and sliced it across her palm, causing her blood to flow from the wound and into the silver chalice beneath it.


    "With my blood, I, Fau Shae Godani, stand as witness to the Shadow King, and name Maxthane thulu''Khant as the one true successor to Salidar thulu''Khant," She declared to the room. "May the mixing of our blood signify the unity of The Shade." She then wiped the stiletto on the white cloth beside the chalice and stepped away, returning to her seat.


    One by one the other guild heads rose and followed her example, each one slicing their palms with their own blades and then repeating her declaration. Maxthane seemed to grow in strength each time the words were spoken, as if they were reassuring him that he had the will of the people behind him. There were others in the room who seemed to need reassurance as well, and they too saw the change come over Maxthane. By the time the twelfth and final guild head had finished the ritual, there did not seem to be a single person who had any doubt that Maxthane was right for the job.


    As the final guild head retook his seat, Maxthane stood and addressed the crowd, the perfect image of regal form and poise. Kirra was drawn into the scene, seeing Maxthane in a new light. His doubts about Maxthane''s character began to fade as he saw the boy¡ªno, the man¡ªwho stood before him, composed and noble and incredibly beautiful. He felt himself begin to fall in love with the image just a little as Maxthane began to speak with the voice of a king. "My people," Maxthane began, scanning over the crowd to show that he included every person there. "It is with deep regret that I must stand before you now, alone, without the presence of my father beside me. As you know, my father led us in a noble attempt to free The Shade from the tyranny of Neredos. Tragically, my father was betrayed by one of his own men, Fasha."


    "We must move on from this tragedy, and arise anew," Maxthane continued, his voice rising just a touch, but it was enough for those who heard him to feel the power in the words that came next. "We will survive, as we have always survived. We are The Shade, and we are as eternal as the shadows that surround us," he raised his hands triumphantly, drawing a loud cheer from the crowd. "As your King, I pledge to do all that is within my power to ensure that survival."


    Cheering ensued for several moments until Madame Godani stood and walked to Maxthane''s side. With her own regal poise she addressed the gathering again. "I, Fau Shae Godani, do bear witness to this Coronation. Stand tall, King Maxthane, and follow in the greatness that has come before you. Lead the Legion of Shadows with honor."


    The cheering resumed, and Kirra almost felt like joining along. Where there had been doubt there was now clarity, and he could see the path before him opening wide to new possibilities. It only took one look at Styx to know that the boy he loved felt the same way. They would move on together, and face whatever else would come their way.


    Styx took Kirra''s hand and then directed his gaze back to Maxthane, who was looking at both of them with a wide smile. He nodded to them, but then returned to leading the crowd in their cheers. Styx inclined his head and grinned, and then directed Kirra''s gaze toward a distant spot of light in the cavern ceiling.


    "Not long ago you brought me to your home," Styx whispered in Kirra''s ear as they gazed at the broken ceiling, "a fugitive with nowhere else to go. You broke down barriers for me, and fought for me, and I love you for every second of it, but that''s not what I love you for the most."


    Kirra turned to him with a look of curiosity as Styx continued, "Today you trusted me as I led you to my home, a home for fugitives like myself. You trusted me, a thief; a boy who never knew what trust really was."


    "Styx . . ." Kirra began, but, at a loss for words he settled on the next best thing and kissed him instead. The kiss lasted for only a second, but it was enough, and when they parted both were sure of the level of love that they felt for each other.


    "Hey, let me in on some of that action!" they turned at the sound of Maxthane''s voice to see him standing with his arms crossed beside them, a slightly annoyed look on his face. Kirra shrugged and surprised himself by pulling Maxthane into a kiss that lasted just as long as the one he had just shared with Styx.


    "Well that was a surprise," Maxthane said as they pulled apart. "What made you change your mind?"


    Kirra shrugged as he said, "Every adventure has to start somewhere. I figured it would sound better when the storytellers speak of how a Knight of the Firmament kissed the Underking on his Coronation Day."

 Shadow Honor - Chapter 26: Epilogue

    "The plan shouldn''t have failed. Everything was in its proper place! How could it fall apart like that?" Fasha glared at the woman on the other side of the fluidic barrier. Veil was some distance away, but through the devices that each of them had, they could communicate as if they stood face to face.


    "What?" She replied, keeping her expression composed as she looked back at him. "Are you angry with me? I don''t see how you could be. I did everything you asked of me."


    "You''re not angry?" he asked incredulously. "This has to end, and you know it. Nothing else matters." He sighed and then took several deep breaths to calm himself before going on. "We''ve both lived for far too long, and we agreed that this was the only way out."


    "Have the years not taught you that some things take time?" She returned with a hint of amusement. "You were born ageless; I would think that you would have a surplus of patience."


    "Even an immortal''s patience can wear thin, you hag," he retorted with a snort, annoyed by her observation.


    "Ageless I may be, but hag I am not," she replied, though she showed no anger at the insult. "This was not all for naught though, was it? I was informed that Grim was sealed away with the Ibrix." With a disarming smile she added, "At least that will be one less enemy to deal with."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "You make an excellent point," he conceded with a grin, though the smile fell as he observed, "Prism also fell, though he was quite the nuisance. I daresay we would have succeeded in this matter had he not been freed."


    "Perhaps I should not have spared his life," she replied with a touch of regret.


    "Ahhhh!" he said with a grin, though it was certainly not a happy topic, "So it is your fault?"


    "I didn''t say that," she returned with a glare. He had finally managed to goad her into showing her anger, and that was a victory in itself. "Do you think that Neredos would have trusted my word if I said that I could not heal Prism?" She asked with a dramatic wave of her hand. "He would have been on to us in a heartbeat. You wouldn''t have freed a single one."


    "I suppose you''re right," he admitted with a sigh. "So what now then?"


    She rested her hand on her chin as she stared at some distant point, lost in thought. "Wait until you can convince the soldiers to strike again. Free some more. I''m told that at least one got away, maybe you could twist that to your advantage."


    "Perhaps . . ." He said, not liking the prospects that sat before them. "I will think on this more. I will contact you again in a week''s time."


    "Understood. Fasha . . ." She said, stopping him before he could turn off the device that kept their communications open.


    "Yes, Veil?" Fasha replied, removing his hand from the dial.


    "Please don''t kill my son," Veil said simply, pleading with her eyes.


    "I can''t make any promises," Fasha replied, showing his regret with his eyes. "Maxthane got in the way today, and I''m surprised he survived. If he gets in the way again, I''ll have to. We can''t afford any more nuisances."


    "Fasha," Veil said dangerously, "Don''t."


    With another sigh Fasha whispered, "As you wish."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 1: The Origin of Demons

    The world felt white. Prism had never felt a color before, but he could think of it in no other terms. He floated through a sea of pure light, an intense wind whipping around him from everywhere and nowhere, pulling him toward the great unknown.


    Death. He''d died. He knew it, could remember speaking to Styx in Pentalus, after facing Fasha in a burning building. He''d failed to protect anyone¡ªnot Styx, nor the people of Pentalus, nor Grim . . . Grim.


    Prism ached for the loss of the man he loved. Grim would be freed from his demonic prison at some unknown time to find an alien world, as Prism had. It would not do. It just couldn''t end this way. He couldn''t let it happen!


    But he could do nothing to stop it, except to wander through the white world, waiting for something different to happen. If this would be his eternity, it must be the hellish void the Ultakan priests insisted awaited those sinners who broke their divine vows. Prism had never thought himself a sinner, but the proof surrounded him.


    A strong hand reached into the void, piercing an invisible wall and tearing through it like rotten fabric, grasping Prism by the front of his tunic and pulling him down, sucking him through the tear and into a world of green.


    This world had more than simply color, as he landed on the grass in a beautiful garden. No, not a garden, but a forest in bloom. No one had cultivated this place; it was far too natural for that. It reminded him of someone, and he raised his eyes, instinctively searching for her. Sure enough, Ghayle stood before him, as regal and fearsome as ever.


    She wore nothing but a simple skirt, seemingly woven from a thousand leaves of fall, with long slits in the side, allowing her legs full freedom of movement. Her ebony torso and supple breasts were exposed to the sweet-scented air, and veiny white lines throbbed across her skin, glowing with the same intensity as the white void from which she''d just pulled him. These veins pulsed with warmth, akin to the fierce heat of a summer''s day.


    Ghayle''s flowing white hair shimmered like freshly fallen snow caught in breaking sunlight, and her green eyes blazed with the vibrancy of spring. Her long and slender fingers reached for Prism, cupping his chin with the gentleness of a queen examining her favorite pony.


    "Welcome, Prism . . ." Ghayle said, her voice as strong as it had been a thousand years earlier.


    "Ghayle . . ." Prism said, prostrating himself before her. "You saved my life."


    "Not exactly," Ghayle said, stooping to lift Prism from his position of respect. "And you need not bow before me. Not anymore."


    "But you''re . . ." Prism began, but Ghayle put her fingers to his mouth to stop him, a sad smile crossing her lips.


    "The avatar of the world?" Ghayle said, laughing. "Not for long, I''m afraid. Soon, I, too, will pass, and another will take my place."


    "What do you mean?" Prism asked. "And what do you mean you didn''t save me?"


    "You''re still dead, Prism," Ghayle said. "I used a great deal of energy to pull your spirit from the stream that leads to the afterlife. Unfortunately, for an undetermined amount of time, you''ll be my guest."


    Prism rose to a standing position, moving to brush his clothes free from dust, but finding it spotless. Even the blood that should''ve stained the torn cloth where Fasha had stabbed him was gone. Prism''s wounds, too, seemed to have faded away.


    He felt whole, yet also insubstantial. Of course, he often felt insubstantial in the presence of this woman. In his youth, Ghayle had been a whisper of power, spoken of as ''a dark goddess who ruled only the more primal Gor hidden in the forests'' depths. He hadn''t even known about Ghayle until a Gor friend made mention of her.


    When he''d first learned she was real and not a mythical figure, his entire worldview came into question. She''d changed everything for him, healing wounds the demons had caused deep inside him.


    "Unfortunate because you don''t want me here, or unfortunate because it is undetermined?" Prism asked, after his personal inspection.


    "Always asking questions . . ." Ghayle said fondly, turned, and walked toward a narrow trail in the underbrush, motioning for Prism to follow her. He dutifully attended her, and they walked in silence for a moment before Ghayle continued. "I often thought you might be the One."


    "The One?" Prism asked.


    "It''s time we discussed what''s really going on," Ghayle said, stopping beside a mossy log and sitting, patting the spot next to her. He sat and gave her his undivided attention, as she added, "There''s something you need to know about the demons, and what happened eight centuries ago."


    She lifted her hand to Prism''s face, and her white veins pulsed with a brilliant flash, transporting Prism across the eons to another time and place.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Ceaseless wind assaulted the two figures on the mountain. Every mile travelled freed a few dozen more strands from Tagren''s carefully braided grey hair, but he dutifully brushed them back from his face and tucked them behind his ears. His hair was only a mild nuisance compared to the profound weight on his heart.


    Tagren worried about Ghayle more with every step up the mountain. Each passing century had grown increasingly more difficult for her, and in the last decade her pain had escalated. Yet she ascended with determination, despite grimacing with every step.


    Whenever she would pause to rest, Tagren would spare a moment to glance out across the vast wilderness surrounding them. They were in the heart of the Dobrag, one of few remaining stretches of untapped natural beauty. Only the Gor and occasional Elroks visited this remote region, especially now in midwinter.


    Ice and snow on the mountain slopes above gave reason enough to avoid the place. Avalanches were common in the Dobrag, just as violent blizzards ripped through the forests and tundra below the great mountains. Only a fool would venture this far into such a treacherous landscape.


    A fool or a god.


    Ghayle let out a pained sigh, signaling she needed rest again. Tagren dashed to her side, supporting her arm as he lowered her to a large boulder. He stood vigilant with complete devotion and adoration. She''d only grown more beautiful over the millennia they''d spent together. Her physical appearance had remained the same, though her eyes had accumulated more wisdom than any mortal could hope to acquire in their short life spans.


    Her sharp mind captivated him when they''d first met nearly four thousand years earlier, at the banks of the sacred river. She''d been a young woman then, and he was nothing more than an apprentice fisherman who''d traveled too far downstream. She was a Gor, and he a human, and somehow the fates had allowed them to find eternity together despite prejudices between their peoples. He''d put much more stock in faith since then, even when it led him here.


    "It won''t be much farther," Ghayle said quietly, glancing up the slopes. "The air is starting to thin a bit, making it more difficult."


    Tagren grimaced and followed her eyes upward. "We should''ve brought more attendants. I am still willing to carry you the rest of the way, if you''d only¡ª"


    She interrupted him with a gentle laugh sounding of twinkling chimes on the wind, taking the sting from her words as she replied, "we''ve already had this conversation, my love. Until the time is right, only the Chosen may know. And I must reach the spot on my own. To do less would feel . . . inadequate."


    The Chosen. They were scattered all through the world, and could not help Ghayle''s pain now, though they could''ve come if Ghayle had permitted him to contact them first. Any of them could''ve made the journey with ease, and she would have had support.


    No . . . he knew better than that. She didn''t want their support, he did. He didn''t want to watch her suffer alone, because seeing Ghayle in pain only made him worry.


    "I just want you to be all right," Tagren said, barely containing his emotions. He''d shed tears over her condition again and again, not willing to face reality. This day had always been inevitable, but the responsibility of his role weighed on him. If only he didn''t have to face it alone.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Thankfully, Ghayle didn''t fault him for his selfishness. She loved him no matter how much he dreaded his own responsibility. "I know you do. I''ll be all right as soon as this is over, I''m sure of it. Shall we climb again?"


    Tagren nodded and helped her to her feet, frustrated as she resumed her climb over the boulders. He followed in silence, keeping his eyes on the trail ahead, wary for any potential dangers.


    Ghayle only slid once, and Tagren caught her in his strong arms before setting her down again. Without even a word, she turned back to the climb, driven by some primal instinct Tagren couldn''t hope to understand.


    They arrived at a small, level area; a huge slab of pale rock jutting from the mountain like a shelf. As soon as Ghayle set foot on it, she sighed in relief, wiping her brow and turning to Tagren with tired eyes. "We''ve arrived," she said.


    "What, here?" Tagren asked, glancing around skeptically. "No offense intended, my dear, but this looks like nothing."


    Ghayle shook her head and replied. "This is the spot. I''m sure of it. It''s time to begin the ritual." Without another word, she stripped the thick coat from her shoulders and discarded it to the side, and her shirt soon joined it. She shivered in the cool air.


    Until recently, Ghayle had seemed immune to the elements and could''ve walked up this mountain naked without feeling the chill once. Tagren still had that blessing and hated the evils of the world for robbing Ghayle of it.


    Before long, Ghayle had stripped off all her clothing and discarded it to the side, as if she would never need it again. She lay naked in the center of the rock, her breasts pointing toward the sky, and stared expectantly at Tagren.


    Tagren sighed, slipping off his pack and opening it, finding the pair of tools inside¡ªa mallet and a long, metal stake. He took out both, testing the mallet''s weight before setting it aside, then considered the stake. It was made of pure Azramel, a metal resembling silver but as strong as steel. While the ritual only called for a pure metal and not a specific type, Azramel was sacred to the Gor people, and had been for most of their history. The finest Gor weapons were forged of it and given only to its bravest warriors.


    He had to be as brave as those warriors now, in honor of his wife and the sacrifice she made for the good of the world. With grim determination, he took the mallet in his other hand and walked toward Ghayle, kneeling beside her before hesitating again.


    "And I''m just supposed to stake you?" He whined. He''d meant it as a simple question, but his emotions overrode him. In all their years together, the thought of harming Ghayle had never crossed his mind.


    "Yes, my heart, Tagren," Ghayle said, reaching out with a weak hand and placing it against his thigh. She smiled even as tears formed in her eyes. "Don''t get squeamish now."


    "But . . . what happens to you?" Tagren asked.


    "That is irrelevant," Ghayle replied. "Since the birth of the world, the Trial has guided the children back to the proper path. The children have lost their way, and they must be punished."


    "Punished . . ." Tagren repeated. Memories of the world of his youth flooded back to him from long before this madness ever began. "As we were punished," he surmised.


    "Yes. In our arrogance," Ghayle said, nodding once as she maintained eye contact with him. "It''s time, Tagren."


    Tagren sobbed even as he positioned the stake over Ghayle''s heart. With shaking hands, he summoned the strength to fulfil her command. "Very well. Forgive me, my dear."


    "My dearest love, I know you would never wish to harm me. If my hand could do the deed, it would be done, but it must be yours," Ghayle said softly, her words the gentle caress of a lover. He understood the tears in her eyes then. She didn''t cry from fear, but from empathy¡ªTagren''s anguish was her own.


    This gave Tagren the resolve needed to complete his task. He raised the mallet and said, "I understand."


    The mallet descended with the full weight of his mighty arms. Ghayle did not cry out, merely sucking in her breath as the stake pierced her beating heart. It continued to beat even as the stake penetrated all the way through her body and into the ground, entering the rock with a resounding crack.


    The weight of the world had already numbed her to such a physically-focused pain. Her divine heart accepted the pure metal as an extension of itself, pulsing around it and pumping Ghayle''s dark blood out and along the surface of the stake. It dripped beneath her and spread across the rockface in tiny, almost imperceptible rivulets, appearing like vast river deltas spreading in six directions. Tagren stepped clear to view the process.


    All but one rivulet continued past the surface of the rock, aligning with five distant peaks, as if being drawn to those mountains. The sixth, however, aimed toward the peak of their current mountain, flowing uphill without regard to gravity and pooling at the edge of the shelf in a perfect circle.


    It continued to grow impossibly, as if Ghayle had a limitless supply of blood. The blood bubbled, rising high from the surface. Several bubbles merged into one, growing more gigantic with each passing second, taking on a towering egg-like shape before bursting.


    A featureless, man-shaped being made from the dark blood itself stood in place of the blood-egg. It stepped toward Ghayle, kneeling beside her to touch her face. Ghayle did not respond, but Tagren could not keep silent any longer.


    "Who are you?" he demanded.


    The form turned toward him, rising. "Do you not recognize me?" Features emerged from the blood as it folded back in on itself; the hawk-like nose, bright emerald eyes in sunken sockets, and the stiff but gossamer golden hair flowing back from light-grey skin all revealed him to be a Sendar. If that hadn''t been enough for Tagren, the blood continued to flow backward, forming broad, white-feathered wings strong enough to keep the naked, beautiful man aloft.


    Tagren dropped to one knee, his head bowed in complete reverence to a presence from a long-absent past. "My Lord Khalis . . ." he whispered. "Forgive me."


    "There is nothing to forgive, my son," Khalis said, stepping forward from Ghayle''s side to stand before Tagren. He motioned for Tagren to rise and said, "I am the herald, for the Shadowtide will soon rise, birthed from the womb he created."


    "Lord Naxthul will return?" Tagren asked with surprising eagerness.


    "Yes, my son," Khalis replied, "but only you, Ghayle, and the Chosen may know of this. You must keep your sacred vows and never betray them until the new Chosen have made themselves known."


    "What will happen to Ghayle?" Tagren asked.


    "She will inevitably take her place in the cycle, as all of us will," Khalis said, his eyes showing nothing but empathy. "But she will be in less pain when we have finished our task."


    Tagren nodded. He''d expected such an answer. "What happens next? How do I help her?"


    "We must find the catalyst for the womb," Khalis said, glancing at Ghayle with pity. "Only then can we unleash The Trial and begin the choosing."


    "What would you have me do?" Tagren asked.


    "For now, you need do nothing save watch over your love. It is my duty as herald to perform the rest," Khalis replied solemnly. "As it will one day be your duty, Tagren."


    "I understand."


    "Though in this state I am nearly indestructible, there remain ways for me to be killed. Should I fail, it will be up to you to prepare the catalyst, and so I will educate you," Khalis said. "The Trial represents the six purities: Destruction, Connection, Movement, Stillness, Cyclicity, and Form. To open the womb, we must first find adequate representations of these purities. I do not yet know which form these representations will take, if it will be one object or many, but I must find them, and they must be accepted by Naxthul as proper."


    "You speak as if you''ve prepared for this your whole life," Tagren said.


    "No, only all of yours," Khalis replied with a small smile. "This is the way of things, Tagren. Whenever the world has failed to remain pure, we come to purify it and herald in a new age. This is the way."


    Tagren hung his head, ashamed that after all this time of guiding the world, his people had lost their way and needed to be purged. He loved the races of the world, no matter their faults, just as Ghayle always had. Some medicines caused pain, even as they treated the illness threatening to destroy the body. "May our children forgive us," he whispered.


    Khalis placed a hand on Tagren''s shoulder and said, "It is not your responsibility to seek forgiveness. It is your responsibility to ensure the protection of this world. Do not forget who you are, Tagren. You are First. You are her First." He pointed at Ghayle, and Tagren nodded, understanding his duty.


    "What''s it like, Lord Khalis?" Tagren asked. "The World Beyond?"


    "Oh, I can''t tell you that, Tagren. It would remove the mystery," Khalis said, chuckling. "You''ll be there soon enough, you know. My son, you are about to embark on the greatest adventure of your life, even greater than the past few millennia have been for you."


    "I''ve missed you, my Lord," Tagren said.


    "I know," Khalis said, nodding. "I''ve watched you. And I know how hard it has been to watch what has become of our home. It''s time, my son, and I need you to listen carefully."


    "Tell me what I must do," Tagren insisted.


    "When I return with the items I need, we will need to mix them with sacred blood to create the potion," Khalis explained. "I will need you to summon the Chosen here. We cannot perform this rite until enough living Chosen are present."


    Tagren nodded. It would take time to gather them all, but he would act immediately, as soon as Khalis left. "How long will you be gone?"


    "As long as it takes," Khalis replied.


    "I will summon the others, then watch and await your return."


    "It''s been so long, my son," Khalis said, moving his hand from Tagren''s shoulder to pat his cheek. "All will be well again."


    Tagren felt a wave of emotion pass through him and glanced at Ghayle. "Is she in pain? Can I do anything for her?"


    "No more than before," Khalis replied, "And only completing the ritual will help her."


    "Then you should hurry, Lord Khalis," Tagren replied, his voice threatening to shake. "Please, fly like the wind. I need her to be all right."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism ripped away from Ghayle, unable to bear the sight any longer. He had felt everything Tagren felt, every doubt, and every ounce of faith. Each had sickened him in its own way, the doubts from Tagren''s self-loathing, while the faith made Prism sick all on its own.


    Khalis . . . he remembered that demon on an intimate level¡ªthe first of the Vhor, the one who began everything. Prism shuddered at the thought of Khalis. How could Ghayle be the one who''d summoned him? The one who allowed the demon invasion of Prism''s world.


    "You sent him?" Prism said, his eyes fierce as he faced Ghayle. "You . . . you started all of this?"


    "Prism . . . I gave you that vision so you would understand," Ghayle said with a sigh.


    "I don''t understand, how can I?" Prism said. "You killed everyone. Everyone! All the people I ever loved. All the . . ." He shuddered again, the weight of his own soul at war with Tagren''s sense of duty. Everything he thought he knew about the world felt wrong.


    "Not all. Many still live even now, defying the odds," Ghayle said. "Neredos, Grim, Veil? All still alive."


    "Many more do not," Prism growled. "Far too many. All that death. The blood on your hands."


    "We had to rebuild. Do you not remember the state of the world back then?" Ghayle asked. "If the world had been allowed to continue along that destructive path, there would be no world left at all."


    "And that''s an excuse to murder everyone?" Prism asked.


    "Prism . . ." Ghayle said, standing and raising her hand toward him. "Let me show you the state of the world in those days."


    Reluctantly at first, Prism let her touch his skin again, and he followed the white light back to a time when he hardly knew his own name.

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 2: Where Light and Color Meet

    Nameless grunted in pain as a bump in the road sent his head slamming against the reinforced wall of the vehicle. He growled and glanced at the barred grate separating him from the driver, wishing he could take a shot at Ol'' Boggi, the village constable to remind him how to drive.


    Boggi took the growl as an invitation to comment on Nameless''s situation, which only served to aggravate him further. "You know, boy . . . it''ll only be for a few years, then you can come back out, if''n that''s what you want."


    "Pfft . . . why would I ever?" Nameless replied, settling back into a more comfortable sitting position in the bed of the truck, becoming all too aware again of the darkness of his cage. He preferred the dark¡ªwith his dark hair and ebony skin, he could blend into the shadows with ease, making it easy for him to steal whatever he needed to survive.


    A tiny sliver of light fed through the window leading to the cab where Boggi sat, spoiling the darkness for Nameless. He spat, trying to reach the window from his current position and failing. "Ain''t nothing there for me now, Boggi," he said as the spittle hit the wall a foot below the window.


    If Boggi heard Nameless spit, he didn''t show it. "Sure they is, they''s all there for you."


    "They''s? Not we''s?" Nameless laughed. "If''n you think I don''t know the dif''rence, you don''t know nothin'', Boggi." He smirked and rested his head against the wall again. "You can''t wait to be leavin'' me in Kob. I just keep on causin'' you trouble. Well, I ain''t none yours now, Constabli."


    "Now, Jurka, there ain''t no need for that. You''s be welcome, when you''s done your time," Boggi replied.


    "My name ain''t Jurka no more, Boggi," Nameless replied.


    Boggi scoffed. "Who are you, then?"


    Nameless didn''t have an answer, not anymore at least. Jurka had never seemed like much of a name, and it wasn''t even the one he''d received at birth. It meant ''brown-eyed'', as unoriginal as the people who''d chosen it. Whatever his mother had called him died with her, when he was too young to remember even her face. Tobrig¡ªa man claiming to be his father¡ªhad taken care of him for his first fourteen years and called him Jurka, but he later learned Tobrig had kidnapped him as a baby and raised him to do his dirty work.


    Nameless hadn''t minded, as at least Tobrig kept him fed. He''d also taught Nameless everything he knew about thievery and swindling, but Tobrig died a year ago after being caught in bed with another man''s wife. Nameless didn''t care for the name ''Jurka'' after that, preferring to distance himself from Tobrig''s memory in the eyes of his neighbors.


    But that left Nameless without much of an identity, only a great deal of unsavory character, which his neighbors refused to tolerate regardless of any changes he made. Stealing to survive or swindling unsuspecting travelers were the only skills he had, but those skills didn''t give him a name.


    Boggi deserved an answer though, one fitting to the aggravation he caused Nameless. "I''m the nameless wind, and I''m gonna slip right through these bars, and I''m gonna cut you so good, you''s be praying for a doctor, ya hear?"


    "I been nothin'' but kind t'' you, boy. You stole eggs, that''s a crime," Boggi replied in exasperation.


    "Ain''t no crime to feed yourself."


    Boggi sighed. "You''s stole enough eggs to feed yourself twenty times over, then sold ''em t'' unsuspecting people ''cause no one else had them''s eggs. If it''d been the first time you''s had done somethin'' the like, I mighta looked down the south road and let you''s go north, but it ain''t. You''s a thief, boy, and it''s time you''s worked it off."


    "Keep your backwash justice, Boggi," Nameless said. "I ain''t talkin'' t'' you no more."


    And he didn''t, no matter how many times Boggi tried to start a conversation. In a few hours they''d arrive at Kobinaru, the regional capital of Tehir Province, the largest province in Ultaka. Nameless had never seen the ocean, but if he ended up indentured on the Kobinaru docks he''d get to see it. Tobrig had once said he learned his best tricks on the Kobinaru docks.


    But Nameless doubted it. Even though he''d never worked a day of farm labor, his village was known for few things other than livestock and farming. He''d be sold on the market as a farm laborer, making a little profit for Ol'' Boggi, but any price would appease the neighbors back home. He''d work off his cost for pittance wages until he could buy his freedom and go wherever he wanted.


    Not that he wanted to go anywhere. He never had much interest in doing anything but surviving and having fun doing it. Riding in the back of a prison truck and getting sold into labor were neither of those things. The world was a mess, everyone knew it, and he saw no reason to participate in the madness.


    Eventually Boggi turned off the dirt roads of the Dorram countryside and onto the paved main road to Tehir. As the ride smoothed out, Nameless settled back against the wall of the cage to sleep. It would be several hours before they arrived at Kobinaru.


    A jolt disrupted his troubled dreams some time later, and he crashed against the truck bed, awkwardly catching himself with his handcuffed arms. He growled in annoyance, about to question Boggi''s driving skills again when a gruff voice spoke from the cab area.


    "Papers." The accent marked the male speaker''s origin as Southern Ultaka. Nameless crawled across the truck bed as far as the chain around his ankle would allow, and by stretching out his leg he managed to peer out the window, seeing the speaker through the bars. Sure enough, the soldier in his black uniform had the olive skin of a Southerner. He had short, reddish-brown hair, though a peaked cap obscured most of it. In another situation, Nameless might have even found the soldier attractive, though a bit too old.


    Boggi handed over his permits, and as the soldier read through them Boggi said, "Aye, as you''s can see, sir, I''m a constable, out in the Dorram."


    "The village of Choballa," the soldier said, smiling politely. "You make good wine there."


    "Uh . . ." Boggi said, shaking his head, "no, sir. We''s honey, wheat, and egg farmers. Mead, sir."


    The soldier nodded. "I knew that, Dorrami. But if you''d not, I would not have let you through the gate. Oligan has been sending their agents through regularly, so we''ve instituted additional screening measures," he added, gesturing ahead to the large, reinforced gates in the cement wall surrounding Kobinaru proper. "If you''ll please follow Lieutenant Skelbran, he''ll take your vehicle to be searched." Another soldier stepped briefly into Nameless''s view, waving the truck forward as the gates creaked open.


    "Searched?" Boggi said, shaking his head. "Oh, sir . . . my prisoner, if you let him have a chance at freedom, he''ll run."


    "I''m afraid that is out of my hands," the soldier replied.


    "You''s don''t understand¡ª" Boggi started, but the soldier''s patience wore thin and his smile disappeared in an instant. He handed the permits back to Boggi and growled menacingly, pointing through the gate. Several armed soldiers brandishing their standard-issue heat-rifles stood waiting for them to arrive.


    Nameless grinned. The opportunity he''d been waiting for had arrived. Boggi was right to warn the soldiers, though he could tell from their confidence they had no idea what they were up against.


    He slid his hands along his belt until finding the little fold of cloth in the backing, carefully removing the slightly-bent pin tucked inside. As Boggi drove through the gates to where the soldiers indicated he should stop for inspection, Nameless worked at picking the lock on his handcuffs.


    The right side clicked and Nameless had nearly finished with the left by the time the truck came to the stop. Another click later and Nameless had his pin tucked back into its hiding spot just as the soldiers ordered Boggi to leave the vehicle. "Step this way, sir."


    Nameless assumed a mask of apathetic resignation as he waited for the soldiers to take the keys from Boggi and open the back of the truck. He blinked into the sunlight as the doors creaked open and a soldier climbed inside, his heat-rifle leading the way. Another soldier stayed just back from the truck, his heat-rifle trained on Nameless.


    Without a word, the first soldier unlocked the ankle restraint and motioned for Nameless to disembark the vehicle. He complied, walking on cramped legs, using the excuse to stretch and prepare for his escape. The guard escorted him to where Boggi waited with two soldiers, nervously glancing back at the truck.


    Nameless took quick stock of his surroundings. At least thirty soldiers stood on this side of the checkpoint, though most resided on the towers above them, watching the outside of the city. Including the two next to him and Boggi, a dozen stood on the ground, half of which were searching the vehicle. The remaining four were split evenly between the right and left sides of the gate, and were watching the streets, rather than the gates.


    He stood about thirty feet from his closest point of cover¡ªa low wall made reinforced bags of unmixed cement, hastily constructed until a permanent structure could take its place. If he could make it to that, he''d only have to move five feet from cover to cover until he could access the busy city streets.


    But first, he needed to be spry enough to move quickly. He stretched out his legs some more as he stood next to Boggi. "How''s that backwash, Boggi? Tastin'' as good goin'' back down?"


    "This is serious, Jurka," Boggi said. "If they find anything wrong at all, we could be detained for a long time."


    One of the soldiers¡ªthe aforementioned Lieutenant Skelbran, Nameless believed¡ªapproached Boggi and stuck his hand out expectantly. "Papers."


    As Boggi handed over his permits for the second time, Nameless took his opportunity. He purposefully overextended his leg on his next stretch, causing him to stumble convincingly in the direction of the makeshift cement barrier. He managed to cover half the distance before one soldier shouted, "Boy, stop where you are. Now! I will not ask twice!"


    Nameless let himself fall forward, rolling into the dirt to cover another seven feet, leaving him only eight feet away from the barrier. He rolled onto his back and managed to gain another foot of ground in the movement, then stopped and waited for the soldier to come to him.


    "Sorry, sir, my legs just stopped workin'' from bein'' caught up in that cage all day. I didn''t mean to fall. Could you''s help me, sir?" He asked, raising his loosely-cuffed hands toward the soldier with his most-practiced innocent expression.


    "Watch him. He''s gonna run, he''s . . ." Boggi warned, sensing the impending escape, but the soldier paid him no heed and bought into Nameless''s innocence, reaching down to lift him by the offered chain connecting the two cuffs. Nameless went along with the movement, doing most of the work until the soldier committed his strength to lifting, then Nameless pulled back, letting the loose cuffs slip from his wrists as the soldier staggered back from the reversed momentum.


    Nameless wasted no time in heading for cover, veering toward the first makeshift wall. He made good enough time to risk heading for the second barricade instead, changing his angle and rolling behind cover just as the first shots angled his way. He was already moving to the next barricade, darting back and forth between cover until he reached the second to last barricade. Ignoring the last barricade, he turned and ran straight for the crowd, betting on the soldiers anticipating the opposite.


    "Jurka! Stop! They''s gonna kill you''s!" Boggi cried as the soldiers readjusted their aim, but no shots were fired. By the time they realized Nameless wasn''t going for the last barricade, he was already too close to the crowd for them to risk firing after him.


    He sprinted through the crowds for the first two miles, taking whatever turns afforded him enough room to run while keeping the wall of people thick around him. Most of the roads were paved smooth, though the one he traveled on now was cobbled, an ancient thoroughfare preserved despite modernization. The deeper into the city he ran, the older the city appeared, and the historic sights distracted his footing. He stumbled over a loose stone before he finally slowed and tried to merge into the crowd.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Music sounded in the distance, the bright and happy melodies of a festival. People cheered and laughed all around him, and he made his way through their midst. A huge parade was making its way toward his position, musicians carrying instruments from flutes to fiddles to drums as they marched on, all playing the raucous beats of a dance hall.


    Clouds of paint exploded all around the musicians, as shirtless common folk joined the parade. Newcomers threw bursting bags of color into the air all around them as they danced. Nameless thought the dancers foolish, though not a one of them seemed to care how silly they appeared.


    He had no time for them; he had to find a place to hide. On the other side of the street he saw an open alleyway next to a truck piled high with the same powdered paints being used by the dancers. As he made his way toward it, shouting erupted behind him, and glanced over his shoulder to see soldiers searching the crowd.


    Spurred on by their presence, Nameless hastened toward the alleyway as quickly as he could, failing to watch ahead. As he came around the corner of the truck, he crashed straight into someone and ended up in a tangled heap in the mouth of the alleyway.


    The Fedain''s small frame made him seem younger than Nameless, though as soon as Nameless had a chance to consider the Fedain''s pale blue eyes, he detected a level of experience to match his own. The intricate braid of his shining, platinum-colored hair befitted royalty, though he dressed simply in a plain white shirt over black pants.


    With a surprisingly firm grip, the Fedain clutched onto Nameless''s arm as he stood, saying, "Whoa, you came out of nowhere! Are you all right?"


    "Let go of me!" Nameless said, ripping his arm away and stepping backward until his back hit the wall of the alley.


    "You''re running from someone?" the Fedain asked, his eyes darting nervously to the street outside. The parade was just starting to come into view, and he shouted over the music and moved closer to Nameless. "Are you in danger?"


    "You''s can''t help me," Nameless said, shaking his head firmly.


    The Fedain''s eyes lit up as he replied, "Of course I can!" He stepped back to the truck and grabbed two bags of powdered paint, tossing them to Nameless. "Here. Cover yourself in these!"


    "What are you¡ª" Nameless started to ask, but little flecks of paint escaped from the bags, showering him in green and blue. The Fedain tossed another bag of paint at him and Nameless backhanded it against the wall. It exploded and showered him from the side in red. "Stop it! I''ll stand out."


    "Only if you don''t dance," the Fedain said, grabbing three more bags from the truck. He set them aside and ripped his shirt, tossing it aside, revealing his lithe yet athletic form beneath. "Come on! It''s traditional to go shirtless, and they''ll never expect it!"


    Nameless hesitated for only a second before buying into the crazy plan. Something in the Fedain''s eyes reminded him of Tobrig whenever he''d suggest a new scam. It filled him with the confidence unique to rogues, the willingness to risk everything on the chance of a daring escape from the law.


    The rags of his shirt joined the Fedain''s a second later, and he smashed the two bags of paint in the air, coating him in green and blue powder which stuck to his sweat and dripped in dark, colorful rivulets. The Fedain did the same before extending his hand to Nameless.


    Without a moment''s hesitation, Nameless put his hand in the Fedain''s, and a warmth unlike anything he''d ever experienced before spread through his body. His fears subsided, and he gave his trust completely to the youth before him. With a giggle and a skip, they rushed out into the street, joining the dancers moving behind the musicians.


    Nameless danced like he''d never danced before, although he couldn''t remember the last time his life had depended on it. The danger of the soldiers seemed far away now. Every few steps the Fedain would brush against him, and the skin contact calmed his nerves in ways he couldn''t understand.


    It was almost supernatural, and Nameless tried to push it from his thoughts, losing himself to the dance instead. Though the dancers seemed foolish before, he enjoyed himself now, loving every step and every beat of the music. The company only made it better, for as strange as it seemed, he found himself growing increasingly infatuated with the Fedain.


    As the parade continued, drawing them farther and farther down the street, Nameless danced to the best of his ability, but the Fedain''s dancing ability mesmerized him. He danced like a true performer on the stage, with grace and skill leading the way at every turn and spin.


    He lost track of time, working up a sweat as clouds of paint continued to erupt overhead, showering them all in color. By the time he grew too exhausted to dance, his skin was a rainbow mosaic, dripping with color.


    A large bridge crossing over the road came into view, and the parade funneled into the arch. Nameless and the Fedain stayed with them as they traveled into the dark archway, but their tired faces expressed mutual exhaustion as they came back into the light.


    The parade continued beyond the bridge, but the pair of boys pulled off into the deepest shadows beneath the arch and then back onto the street, coming to rest on a pair of crates next to a fresh fruit merchant''s stall. The merchant eyed the two panting, shirtless boys with suspicion, but resumed hawking his wares after a moment.


    "That was fun!" the Fedain said. "Thank you. I''ve always wanted to dance in the Bazarat Festival, but my tutors never let me. My name is Grim, by the way."


    Nameless nodded and smiled, though he silently tasted the name on his tongue. He wanted to do even more to Grim with his tongue, his lips, and his body, but he repressed the urge to make a move. For all his brash and roguish courage, he''d never been intimate with anyone.


    "What''s your name, if you don''t mind me asking?" Grim said, smiling as he stretched his arms and back. Nameless analyzed Grim''s lean form in stunned silence, wanting to run his fingers through the rivulets of sweat and color dripping down Grim''s back.


    Before the awkward silence compelled him to speak, another Fedain came running up to them, eyes frantic and breathing heavily. He was older, with thick spectacles hanging on the edge of his nose. Opulent robes of gold and red adorned his shoulders, marking him as a high-ranking official of the Church of the Blood, the religion nearly every Fedain practiced.


    To Nameless''s surprise, the priest dropped to one knee in front of Grim and said, "By the blood! Thank goodness that witness who saw you dancing was correct!" He met Grim''s eyes at last and added, "Lord Grim, you ran away from us. You know you shouldn''t do that."


    Lord Grim? Nameless thought, and reality came crashing back in on him. The boy of his dreams was a nobleman, and that made him completely inaccessible. Nameless sighed deeply, already planning his next move. He''d have to find a place to lay low now, somewhere he could forget this ever happened.


    Grim stood and shook his head, motioning for the priest to stand. "Sharis, I''m not sure why you think you can tell me what to do. You may be my tutor, but you have no authority over my leisure activities."


    "The Duke would not approve, Lord Grim," Sharis said. The edge in his voice gave Nameless pause and he returned his full attention to the conversation.


    "My father does not dictate my pleasure activities, either," Grim replied.


    Nameless found his courage and stepped to Grim''s defense. "Is this guy givin'' you''s trouble?" Several soldiers moved toward their position, though different than the ones he''d seen at the gate, Nameless immediately stiffened at their presence.


    "You really don''t have to do anything," Grim replied.


    "If you''s say so . . . I''ll be over here, cleaning up." He inched backward, keeping a wary eye on the soldiers while searching for the perfect escape route to slip back into the city.


    Four soldiers approached Grim and bowed deeply, staying just behind Sharis. "Lord Grim, there are reports of a dangerous criminal on the loose. We need to get you home as soon as possible, as you may be in danger."


    Grim scoffed. "That''s ridiculous. No one is going to harm me."


    Nameless moved even farther back, coming up against the fruit merchant''s stall when a soldier called out to him. "You, stop there!"


    Acting on pure impulse, Nameless snatched a small knife from a plate of cut fruit and dashed back to Grim, snaking his arm around him and putting the blade to his throat. "If any you''s come closer, I''ll kill him," he said, meeting the eyes of Sharis and the soldiers.


    "Why are you . . ." Grim started to ask as Nameless tugged him backward. "Oh, I understand . . . you''re the one they''re looking for."


    Nameless whispered in Grim''s ear, "Listen, I appreciate you''s help, but I need to get outta here."


    "Then you should''ve run when you had the chance. If I could let you go, I would, but by taking me hostage, you''ve just ensured you''ll never get out of this city. It''s better to let me go," Grim replied calmly. If he felt threatened at all by Nameless''s blade, he didn''t show it.


    "You''d let me go?"


    "I know you don''t want to hurt me. Fedain can sense emotions through physical contact if they''re strong enough, and all I sense from you is fear," Grim said. "We''re friends now. You know that, right? We danced in the Color Parade together. That''s something only friends do."


    The soldiers were getting anxious, their fingers resting against the triggers of their guns. Sharis was beside himself, not sure if he should attempt to command the soldiers to negotiate with Grim''s captor. Several long seconds passed before two more people moved through the gathering crowd.


    One was a blonde soldier with narrow eyes, dressed in the same black uniform as the others but with several medals on his right breast, and the red and purple captain''s colors banded to his left arm. The other was dressed in simple, brown robes held taut against his waist by a red sash. He walked with a warrior''s grace, his hands tucked behind his back as he eyed the situation with an expressionless olive-skinned face.


    "What''s all this?" The latter asked, his voice as calm as his expression.


    "Grandmaster Valkean," Sharis said, sighing in relief. "We have a situation."


    "Who''s that?" Nameless asked.


    "He''s the Keeper of the Temple of the Mountain," Grim replied.


    "What mountain? There''s no mountain near here. It''s all flat."


    "They''re an order of monks. The mountain is figurative," Grim explained.


    "Figlative?" Nameless asked. "What''s ''figlative''?"


    Grim continued as calmly as ever, pressing his body against Nameless''s as if resting against him. "Figurative," he repeated. "It means its not real, it just represents something. Like a story, or a myth."


    Nameless met Grandmaster Valkean''s eyes and said, "He''s lookin'' at me."


    "That''s probably because you''re threatening to kill me," Grim said, chuckling.


    "You''s laughin''? Why?" Nameless asked, perplexed at his captor''s strange behavior.


    Grim only laughed harder and said quietly, "Whoever you are, I like you. However this resolves, I hope I''ll get to see you again."


    "Wha¡ª" Nameless started to say, but Grim moved far too quickly to allow him to finish. Grim grabbed Nameless''s wrist, pressing it hard against his breastbone. He ducked underneath Nameless''s arm, twisting it as he stepped backward, forcing the knife to drop to the pavement. With a calm and fluid flick of his wrist, Grim sent Nameless sprawling forward to land at the feet of Sharis and the four soldiers.


    "Thank you, everyone!" Grim said grandiosely. "My friend and I were just playing around. We planned it during the festival and thought it would be a nice spectacle. See? He''s not my enemy, we''re friends." He took a step forward to help Nameless to his feet, but Sharis stepped in his way.


    "Lord Grim, step away from the commoner at once," Sharis said firmly.


    "Don''t hurt him. That''s an order, to all of you," Grim said testily.


    "He took you hostage!" Sharis insisted.


    "He did no such thing. Clearly, I was never in any danger," Grim replied. "I''m sure he''s not the fugitive you were looking for, it''s just a joke gone wrong."


    The captain stepped up and said, "I''m afraid he is the one we want, Lord Grim. I recognize him from the surveillance at the gates."


    "Captain Tson. You''re saying this is the boy who escaped your guards?" Grandmaster Valkean said. The smile on his face seemed out of place to Nameless.


    "That''s right. And he will be dealt with accordingly. We will send him to Fordus, twenty years labor for this," Captain Tson said.


    "No." Valkean said.


    "You do not have the authority to . . ." Captain Tson said but stopped as Valkean lifted his hand to stall him.


    "I came to the Prisoner''s Market today to pardon two Prisoners for my tutelage. I am allowed two pardons per season, provided I take responsibility for them, under Ultakan law. As either Lord Grim or the Esteemed Sharis could verify for you, in case you''ve forgotten your knowledge of the law you''re sworn to uphold," Valkean replied.


    "But you can''t be serious!" Captain Tson protested. "This boy has done nothing but cause trouble since he arrived, and he has proved treasonous intent."


    "On the contrary, Lord Grim has indicated otherwise. Do you doubt the words of your ruler?" Valkean retorted.


    "Lord Grim is known for his . . . pranks, Grandmaster," Captain Tson said, pointedly avoiding Grim''s heated gaze.


    "Then you should embrace the marvelous spectacle for what it was," Valkean said, nodding as he regarded Nameless curiously. "I believe the boy''s original crime was petty theft? That''s what I heard from the soldiers who let him escape, anyway. That''s three years. Plus evading arrest. At maximum sentence, that''s an additional seven. I''ll take him in on a ten year sentence."


    "You usually take petty criminals," Sharis observed. "Why this one?"


    Valkean''s mouth twitched as if fighting a huge grin. "He seems . . . colorful."


    "You''ll take him on a twenty-year sentence," Captain Tson said.


    "Shouldn''t there be a trial?" Grim asked insistently. "Ultakan law is clear."


    "We just had one, Lord Grim." Sharis said, raising his hand to stop Grim from speaking further. "And I would recommend you hold your tongue. You''ve already given the Duke enough grounds to keep you in the palace until you''re of age."


    "I''ll take him on twenty years," Valkean agreed at last, regarding Nameless with a polite smile. "Boy, you''re now in my charge."


    "I''ll just run away," Nameless said.


    "I''ll just bring you back," Valkean said, chuckling. "What''s your name, boy?"


    "I don''t have one."


    Valkean nodded to himself, considering Nameless for a moment. He then glanced to Grim and nodded again. "Prism. Where light and color meet," he said. "Yes, that is indeed the perfect name for you, and I''ll call you nothing different." Keeping his eyes on Grim, he said, "Grim. With your leave, I''ll be taking Prism into my custody."


    "Of course, Grandmaster," Grim said, smiling and bowing to Valkean. "And thank you."


    "You must come to the Temple and resume your training, Grim. You''ve grown hesitant," Valkean observed.


    Grim laughed and said, "Opportunities to practice are rare, Grandmaster."


    "Of course." Valkean bowed low and added, "We must arrange more for you, then."


    "Good day to you, Grandmaster," Grim said. "Everyone follow me back to the palace. We''ll leave Prism to the Grandmaster''s charge."


    Now that Grim had said the name, Nameless basked in the beauty of it. Prism. It would be an adjustment, but he could learn to use it as his own, and would, in time.


    "And you, Grim," Valkean said, then turned to Captain Tson. "I suggest you follow Grim''s orders, Captain Tson. I can handle the prisoner on my own."


    As the soldiers moved away, Prism saw an opportunity to escape, rising as he aimed for a nearby alleyway. Before he made it to his feet, Valkean''s booted foot collided with his back, sending him sprawling back to the ground.


    "Lesson one, Prism. Learn to bet only on risks you stand a chance of winning," Valkean said as he approached Prism, placing his foot squarely in the center of his back and driving his heel between two of Prism''s vertebrae. "This is your first of many lessons, but I will make sure you learn it before we move forward."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 3: Family Meeting

    Prism stepped back from Ghayle''s touch, momentarily reeling from the weight of memory. After he recovered and reassessed his condition, he turned a narrow-eyed stare on Ghayle and asked, "What was that supposed to tell me, Ghayle? My life was hardly a good example of the state of the world. I was a poor boy who didn''t understand how the world worked, not then, and not when it collapsed."


    "So that you understand your place in the world," Ghayle replied, nodding in approval. Her hand remained poised in the air as if expecting him to come back to it to resume the experience. "That wasn''t all I wished to show you, but you pulled away. You fear what comes next."


    Prism snorted in annoyance. "Fear? Have you known me to show fear in all the years we''ve known each other? As a boy, perhaps, but not since I fought my first demon have I felt real fear. No," he shook his head firmly, "I simply have no wish to relive it. Those were the hardest days of my youth, which led to an adulthood spent entirely on the front lines of a battle against hordes of demons. Demons you summoned."


    Ghayle sighed but did not lower her hand. "It''s important, Prism. You must understand the state of things. Perhaps if I showed you someone familiar, you''d be more comfortable? I can access more than your memories, Prism. I''m connected to everyone still living in this world."


    Prism smirked, immediately inferring the meaning of her words. "So, you''d show me Grim''s?"


    "There were other''s I could''ve picked," Ghayle replied with a slight smile.


    "Neither Veil nor Neredos is familiar to me anymore. Grim still has the same look in his eyes. He still loves the world, no matter how much pain he has," Prism said confidently. "If you''re telling me there are others still alive from those times . . ." he laughed despite the weight of their conversation and added, "I''m surprised enough as it is that there are four of us still alive."


    "Three," Ghayle corrected. "You''re dead."


    "Right . . ." Prism said, touching his very substantial body before giving Ghayle a knowing look. "Hard to think of it that way now." He shrugged and sat back on the log. "Very well, Ghayle, lead me into the darkness of the past. I suppose I can''t pass up the opportunity to touch Grim, now can I?"


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Grim lounged across a chair in his sitting room¡ªthe chair easiest to clean. He remained shirtless and covered in paint but too exhausted to clean up. Especially considering his mental state. The human boy from the streets, Prism, wouldn''t leave his thoughts.


    He''d heard about the Fedain curse his whole life. Of course, there was nothing mystical about it, and ''curse'' was a misnomer. It was wired into Fedain biology, but right now the ''curse'' label seemed appropriate. Fedain had a peculiar sensitivity to pheromones, and every so often would meet someone with the right chemical composition to completely addle their otherwise sane brains.


    Prism''s pheromones had just the right composition to affect Grim in maddening ways, and he couldn''t get Prism''s scent from his mind. It was cerebral and instinctive at the same time, a longing for both physical and mental intimacy, and impossible to ignore completely.


    The effects magnified during puberty. Though Grim hadn''t finished passing through that horrid period of adolescence. If he''d spent any more time with Prism, he doubted he''d have maintained control, no matter how public his displays of affection would''ve become. When Prism''s knife had rested at Grim''s throat and he''d held their naked skin together, death had been the furthest thing from Grim''s mind.


    The longer he relived the memory of their skin to skin contact, the more aroused he became, and he undid the clasp on his belt. His other hand drifted lower, rubbing his erection through the heavy cloth separating him from his carnal pleasure.


    Before he could get much further in pleasuring himself, the door to his sitting room opened and he hastily redid his belt, standing to see who had interrupted him. Sharis bowed his head in respect to Grim''s nobility, giving Grim time to force his erection to subside before his tutor straightened.


    "Lord Grim, your father will see you now," Sharis said, sliding his spectacles back up his nose as he regarded Grim with a polite but tight smile.


    "Let''s get this over with," Grim sighed, stepping past Sharis and into the hall. He took a few steps before realizing Sharis hadn''t moved farther than the doorway. "Aren''t you coming, Sharis?"


    "No. The Duke requested to meet with you alone," Sharis said, shuffling his feet.


    "Alone? Likely not. I''m sure sister will be with him," Grim said. He nodded and grinned at Sharis, trying to put the troubled old man at ease. "Very well. Will we be resuming our studies this evening?"


    Sharis'' smile gained more strength as he nodded in agreement. "Yes. I''d like to resume your Galagu lessons."


    "I still don''t see the need to learn a second Elrok dialect, but if you insist," Grim replied, shrugging. "Can we resume our archaeology discussions if I get through my lessons quickly this evening?"


    Sharis'' smile brightened even more as he replied, "I guess I can indulge you a little, even if you are a troublemaker."


    "It''s just so much more interesting, Sharis," Grim said, shifting his eyebrows suggestively to say, "Plus, you said yourself that History is your favorite subject, and yet you never get to use it!"


    Sharis cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure how to take Grim''s personal comment without sacrificing his nervous professionalism. "The Duke is waiting, Lord Grim," he said at last.


    Grim chuckled nasally. Inhaling through his nose reminded him of his current physical state. He grimaced and said, "I suppose I should''ve showered first, but it''s not like my father would see me any differently, anyway."


    Sharis'' smile became a smirk as he bowed his agreement. "Likely not, Lord Grim."


    Grim laughed more throatily and turned on his heel, making his way through the palace halls to his father''s meeting room. Despite his shirtless and dirty state, none of the servants gave him more than a passing glance and nod of deference. They''d long grown used to his eccentricities, though he''d likely be the subject of all the gossip in the servants'' quarters and barracks.


    Two soldiers stood guard at the doors to Duke Selfaeth''s meeting room, and neither gave Grim more than a glance as he approached and opened the doors. Of all the palace staff, these two would''ve expected him and received orders to admit him regardless of his state. He wondered what words his father had used when giving that order, and what expression he''d worn as he spoke of his disappointment of a son.


    It didn''t matter much to Grim. He expected his father would forget about him as soon as this conversation was over, no matter how strong the reprimand. This would be the same as any other meeting, and Grim would leave wondering why his father even bothered to reprimand him at all. He sighed and entered the room.


    ". . . Caliphar is an odious lout who deserves his fate!" Duke Selfaeth''s heated voice echoed through the cavern-like chamber.


    "Father, haven''t you taught me it''s more practical to avoid war?" Grim''s twin sister, Veil, replied, her voice as composed and pleasant and ever. Compared to their father, Veil always seemed the more reasonable one.


    Grim approached quietly until he could see them speaking. Instead of sitting at the long council table which dominated one half of the room, they sat at the high-backed chairs near the fireplace, drinking wine and eating cheese. Veil, in all her regal posturing, looked every bit the fine lady of the court, with a silken white dress and her hair done up in myriad braids, even more complex than Grim''s. Duke Selfaeth, on the other hand, fit the part of a scoundrel more than a duke, with a high-collared black coat splayed around his neck, his messy mop of blonde hair spilling out over the collar, and long shirt-cuffs revealing his almost skeletal fingers. He wore several jeweled rings on each hand, the most prominent was his sapphire ring with the three silver roses entwined around the setting. It was the signet ring of the Tehir Duchy, and the family''s most prized possession; Duke Selfaeth wore it everywhere.


    "King Hashayne has exhausted all diplomatic options, as I was saying," Duke Selfaeth said, taking a long swig from his wine glass. He placed it down, empty, and filled it again as he continued. "Within the next few months, we''ll have no choice but to unleash our full arsenal on him."


    Veil shook her head, sipping her wine before responding in a concerned tone. "People will die. We''ll be killing people, Father. That''s against everything the Fedain stand for."


    Duke Selfaeth groaned in frustration. "We''ll come in after the blast and heal as many as we can. As long as a Fedain hand isn''t on the trigger, we won''t be breaking any vows, will we?"


    Grim snorted. Loudly. "Ah, the logic of despots. Glad to know your ability to twist your logic is as strong as ever," he said, hastening his approach to stand at Veil''s side and address his father, fury in his eyes. Selfaeth''s hand tightened around the wine glass, his eyes darting daggers at his son. "Oh, are you going to slap me, Father?" Grim taunted. "Is that no longer beneath you? Or will you simply have one of our human soldiers do it for you?"


    "Grimfaeth, you test the limits of my patience," his father said through gritted teeth. He pointed in front of his chair and ordered, "Come here and receive your punishment."


    "No. I have something more important to do first," Grim replied. He turned to Veil and embraced her from the side, sighing at the welcome weight of her in his arms. "Veil, it''s good to see you. I wasn''t aware you''d returned from Xarin."


    Veil stood to embrace him more fully, ignoring the paint dripping from him as she smiled warmly. "I came back a day early, at Father''s insistence. I heard you had some excitement today. You could have at least showered before coming here, you know."Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "And miss the chance to aggravate the Duke?" Grim said, pointedly making mention of his father''s title; lack of personalization would aggravate him further.


    "I''m sitting right here, you know," Duke Selfaeth growled.


    Grim rolled his eyes and said to Veil, "Of course I know."


    Duke Selfaeth sighed and said, "Grimfaeth, Veilynn, please . . . both of you, sit down."


    Grim finally turned to his father and said defiantly, "So you can yell at me some more? I can do that standing."


    Duke Selfaeth closed his eyes, breathing in once before letting out a long exhale. When he opened his eyes again, he spoke calmly. "Grimfaeth . . . Grim. Please?"


    The shift in his father''s demeanor stunned Grim, and he nodded in approval. "A moment of sincerity? Those are rare." He rewarded his father''s calm with compliance, and took the seat next to Veil, facing his father with an intent expression, wondering how long it would be until boredom set in.


    "Grim, this affects you a lot less than Veil, but you are second in line to the Duchy, and with the state of the world I''d rather have you both as informed as possible," Duke Selfaeth said, meeting both their eyes in turn.


    "This sounds serious," Grim said.


    Duke Selfaeth nodded. "The ceasefire we''ve managed to hold with Oligan for the past few years is deteriorating rapidly. A recent incident has triggered a collapse of certain agreements between our two nations. If you''ve been watching the newscasts . . ."


    "Not most of them." Grim shrugged. "Most of them are boring."


    The Duke''s eye twitched as he frowned. "Perhaps I should have a word with Sharis."


    "He''s fine, Father. He assigns them, I simply don''t pay attention," Grim replied. "Don''t blame him. I just prefer studying other subjects. There''s a lot you can learn from the history books in our library, you know."


    Duke Selfaeth sighed. "My youngest son . . . always more concerned with the past than the present. I''m hoping to convince you to break that habit."


    "So, we''re at the brink of war again? That''s what I''m supposed to take away from this?" Grim asked, trying to get his father back on track before they resumed their longtime squabble.


    Duke Selfaeth nodded. "Yes. A defector managed to escape to our side last month. She''s a high-ranking officer in the Oligani military and brought news of a weapon being developed. It has the power to tear mountains apart, according to the data she showed us. If it were turned against any of our power facilities, the fallout would be devastating."


    "Not to mention our weapons stores," Veil offered.


    "Correct, Veil," Duke Selfaeth replied, nodding in approval. "If they find the locations of our weapons stores, such a device could obliterate us overnight. It would also make those regions uninhabitable for decades, if not centuries, from the radiation."


    "So, what you were arguing about before I came in was whether Ultaka should invade first and attempt to stop President Caliphar from using the weapon on us," Grim surmised. When he received confirmation from his father and Veil, he added, "I''m afraid I agree with Veil on this one."


    "Why?" Duke Selfaeth asked, showing genuine confusion as he regarded his children. "How can both of you feel that way? We''re talking about the potential end to our civilization if we don''t act!"


    Grim gave the most reasoned response he could think of, doubting his father would appreciate it. "Well, for all we disagree, father, you have to give some credit to history here. In the great wars of the last century, every side had enough firepower to wipe out the enemy, and we didn''t, because our destruction was mutually assured. Why should we act any differently now? Perhaps instead of viewing this as a need for destruction, we can view it as an opportunity to come to the table and talk peace."


    "It won''t work, Grim. I understand the King''s position, much as I hate the thought of such violence," Veil said. "What Father explained to me before you came in makes a great deal of sense. If Oligan expected to come to the table because they fear our bombs, they would''ve made mention of their weapon as a show of strength. Instead, they''ve kept it completely secret."


    "How can you be so sure?" Grim asked.


    "There''s more evidence, Grimfaeth," Duke Selfaeth replied. "Troop movements along the borders. Testing in the Dobrag, great scars in the world, the crumbling remains of mountains destroyed by the device . . ." he shook his head. "The quake in Gellibran last Autumn was likely the result of that testing."


    Grim lowered his gaze, finding the news unsettling. "I see."


    "Still, it''s unlikely you will have much to do with it, Grim," Duke Selfaeth said, smiling. "I don''t even think Veil will, at least not in the war effort. Perhaps in the aftermath."


    "If there is an aftermath. You''re assuming we''ll survive," Grim said pointedly.


    Duke Selfaeth took another long drink of his wine and said with false confidence, "Our radiation bombs will knock out their power structures in a matter of hours."


    "Before they can counter-attack?" Veil asked.


    Duke Selfaeth shook his head and admitted, "I don''t know."


    "Well, shouldn''t we find out if this is all true first? What if they aren''t planning to attack and we start a war unnecessarily? Grim''s point is important, Father," Veil said pointedly.


    "It''s not my decision, Veil. King Hashayne has the final say, I can only advise him," Duke Selfaeth said helplessly.


    "Of course," Grim said, sighing. "Of course, we''re powerless as usual."


    "So much death . . ." Veil muttered.


    "Don''t look so glum, you two. This has been coming for a while. As members of the nobility, we must be the face of faith and hope for our people. You are sixteenth and seventeenth in line for the throne, need I remind you. We can''t have either of you showing your doubts to the public," Duke Selfaeth said, then turned his full attention to Grim. "Or making yourselves easy targets for assassins, either from Oligan or the Gor."


    Grim shrank under the weight of his father''s gaze and said, "I''m sorry, Father. I just wanted a bit of fun."


    "Yes . . . I heard about your ''fun''. You were held at knifepoint," Duke Selfaeth said as Veil gasped. "I can''t treat that lightly. I''ve a mind to speak with Grandmaster Valkean about the boy in his custody and have him sent much farther away."


    "He wasn''t going to harm me. I could read his emotions. He was just scared," Grim said, meeting his father''s eyes. "Please don''t do anything to him."


    "Many scared people have done terrible things from fear alone," Duke Selfaeth retorted.


    Grim saw an opportunity to make a point and slipped his words in like a dagger between his father''s ribs. "Interesting point, considering what King Hashayne is thinking of doing out of fear."


    He could feel Veil''s smile without having to look her way, but her words confirmed it. "Looks like Grim got you, Father. Again."


    Duke Selfaeth''s shocked expression faded, and a wry smile spread across his features instead. "Very well . . . I''ll see if I can sway King Hashayne''s decision and at least convince him to consider diplomatic options."


    "It''s our way, Father. We are the protectors of our people. Of all people. This is why we rule, is it not?" Veil asked.


    "Good one, Veil," Grim said.


    "Thanks, Grim."


    "You two . . ." Duke Selfaeth said, laughing. It wasn''t a common sound for him, and it made both his children smile and blush. "Your mother would be proud of you both. Even with your indiscretions, Grim." His smile took the sting out of his words, but what he said next made Grim want to cry. "Seldorym probably would''ve given you a medal for your actions."


    "I miss him," Grim said meekly at the mention of his late elder brother.


    "Me too," Duke Selfaeth admitted, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He turned to Veil whose eyes were just as heavy with moisture and said, "Veil, could you please excuse us? I need to speak to your brother alone."


    "Of course, Father," Veil said quietly.


    Grim gently caught her arm as she passed his chair and said, "Let''s meet for a game of Dannu later."


    Veil smiled. "Deal."


    Grim sighed as Veil left, meeting his father''s eyes and bracing himself for the coming beratement. "So, what is my punishment going to be?" he asked after a moment.


    "Nothing," Duke Selfaeth said to Grim''s surprise. "Oh, I''m still angry that you put yourself in danger, but I suppose you got yourself out of it, too." He chuckled softly and went on. "You''re your mother''s son, as surely as Seldorym was. Veil is the only one like me, and she''s a good mix of both her parents."


    "Oh, I think I''m more like you than you think. I''ve certainly got your stubbornness," Grim said with a grin, hoping to make his father smile.


    "Maybe you do at that," Duke Selfaeth said, returning Grim''s smile with full warmth. "But could you at least do me a favor and not be so reckless next time? You ran off with a strange boy without even a thought."


    "I . . ." Grim started to say, then blushed and looked away, "thought about it."


    "Uh-oh," Duke Selfaeth said gently. "I know that look. Your blood called to him, huh?"


    Grim groaned. He''d hoped to avoid having this conversation with anyone, especially his father. "Sometimes I wish I was human. Now more than ever. Falling instantly in love has to be the worst part of being a Fedain."


    "This is the first time you''ve ever done it, unless there''s someone I don''t know about," Duke Selfaeth observed.


    "No, there''s never been anyone else, but this is awful. I fell in love with someone I''ll likely never even see again," Grim muttered bitterly.


    Duke Selfaeth nodded and stood, stepping to the fireplace to warm his hands. "Likely not. And a human, too . . . you wouldn''t be the first Fedain to fall in love with a human, of course, but the nobility won''t like it."


    Grim smirked and asked, "Are you forbidding me from feeling that way?"


    "Would it do any good?" Duke Selfaeth asked, laughing as he regarded his son curiously. "Like I said, you''re your mother''s son. And your father''s too. Your mother was a commoner, and I married her anyway, after all. Maybe most Fedain have multiple lovers throughout their lives, but her spirit was enough for me. I doubt I''ll ever find another to match her, though I did have a fling with Baron Chardran once, when I was about your age. We were both studying at Duke Bollindar''s court. Now Chardran was a beautiful man."


    Grim rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands before replying. "Father, much as I love these talks, I''m not so keen on dwelling on the idea of you having a ''fling'' with Baron Chardran."


    Duke Selfaeth laughed again, and after a moment Grim joined in. Grim stood and joined his father at the fireplace, the prospect of never seeing Prism again came back to his mind, chilling him. Losing Prism was the last thing he wanted, and he would do anything to ensure it wouldn''t happen.


    "So . . . if I pursue a relationship with this young man?" Grim asked.


    "You''ll ruin your reputation, and mine," Duke Selfaeth said simply. The barest hint of a smile crossed his face.


    Grim asked in surprise, "But you don''t care?"


    In a rare display of affection, Duke Selfaeth wrapped his arm around Grim''s shoulders and hugged him tight. "Grim, I''ve defended you and your antics for the last six years, ever since you pranked Baronness Liflynn with the wine at our Summer festival when you were eight. As much as I love the court and my duties to it, I will always love you and your sister more."


    "I''m sorry I caused you trouble, Father," Grim said, returning his father''s embrace.


    "Don''t worry about it," Duke Selfaeth said as they parted. "Though there is one thing."


    "What?"


    Duke Selfaeth grinned and said, "Your sister is right. You need a shower. And I need to call my tailor." He grimaced at his coat, now stained with muddy festival colors.


    "I''m sorry," Grim said. "Guess there''s still some paint on me. I didn''t even notice it on Veil''s dress, she''s going to be furious with me."


    "Probably," Duke Selfaeth confirmed with a nod. "But did you have fun?"


    "Yes."


    "Never stop," Duke Selfaeth said firmly, his eyes growing serious. "Your love for the commoners is your greatest asset as a noble. One day, you''re going to charm the whole court with just a smile. The Fedain will love you just for being you."


    Grim''s eyes watered as he fought back his emotion with a smirk. "That doesn''t sound like something you''d say."


    "Maybe, in the face of war, I''m a little more concerned about being a good father before we face losing it all," Duke Selfaeth said, putting his hand on Grim''s bare shoulder.


    Grim''s eyes widened in shock as he sensed his father''s emotions. "You''re scared. I can feel it in you."


    "I am," the Duke confirmed. "We''ve been testing new versions of our bombs all winter. As much as I applaud your optimism, I don''t think this will be won by diplomacy."


    "Then I guess I''d better study," Grim said, turning to the fire, as if he could envision it spreading all over the world he knew. "I''ll have to look after the survivors, right?"


    "That''s right," Duke Selfaeth said quietly.


    "Maybe, if you can focus on being a good father, I can focus on being a good son," Grim conceded.


    The Duke patted Grim''s shoulder gently and said, "You already do that."


    "But I need to do better," Grim insisted. "Sharis has me studying Galagu tonight."


    "That''s good. We may need the Elroks before the end of this," Duke Selfaeth said.


    "Do you really think they''d side with us?" Grim asked.


    Duke Selfaeth shrugged and replied, "It''s hard to say. Relations with the clans aren''t nearly as bad as they used to be."


    "I''ve always thought I''d make a good diplomat. Maybe I''ll get assigned to them for my apprenticeship?" Grim suggested.


    The Duke smiled and said. "It''s a worthy goal."


    Grim impulsively reached out and hugged his father again, craving the contact he''d sorely missed over the years. He clung to the world as it was in that moment, knowing it might never be again. "Thank you, Father, for your understanding."


    "Of course. Thank you for yours," Duke Selfaeth said as a tear escaped his eye. With that, he let his son go.

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 4: The Order of the Mountain

    The vision shifted in subtle ways, drawing Prism back into his own memories. He allowed Ghayle to pull him there, comforted by the vision of Grim and his family. Longing for simpler times filled his heart, and as much as he wanted to resist the pain ahead, he also ached to relive the bright moments along the path. Giving himself fully over to Ghayle, the city streets of Kobinaru reformed in his mind.


    Grandmaster Valkean walked behind him, holding one end of the rope binding Prism''s hands. They''d walked in this manner ever since leaving the shadow of the bridge, and Prism didn''t bother to hide his annoyance. Darting angry glances back at Valkean''s pleasant smile with every other step, he eventually tired of trying to make the monk feel his ire.


    As soon as he gave up, Valkean returned Prism''s efforts in kind, and was far more successful. "Prism, you''re from the Dorram, aren''t you?" He asked. Prism gritted his teeth and remained silent. Nothing good could come from answering his captor''s questions. He''d already done enough talking for the day. Silence did not deter Valkean in the slightest, and his casual prattle resumed as soon as Prism glared at him again. "I''ll simply keep asking you until you answer me, so you might as well speak up now."


    Prism snapped his attention forward again, intending to ignore everything Valkean said from that point on, but the monk continued speaking anyway. "You''ve the accent of a Dorrami. I spent an entire summer there once," Valkean remarked wistfully. Nostalgia and Dorrami summers didn''t fit together in Prism''s mind. A Dorrami summer was hot, humid, and drew every insect from the surrounding countryside like commoners to a festival. Valkean''s voice remained as pleasant as ever, however, as he went on, "There''s a type of fly which usually infests your wild chickens, but sometimes they go after Dorrami, don''t they? They''re little annoying things, buzzing in your ear all day long. You try and swat them, but they always seem to know your hand is coming. You could learn a lot from the Sikoba fly."


    Sikooba flies. Prism shuddered at the thought. He''d spent enough nights outside in summer to have a lifetime of experience with the annoying insects. Muscles twitched in his shoulders and back as he instinctively sought to swat at a bead of sweat on his neck.


    "So, how''d you end up here, anyway? The Dorram wasn''t good enough for you, so you decided to visit old Kob and see if it''s everything they say it is?" Valkean said.


    "You''s as annoyin'' as the Sikooba," Prism said. He spat on the ground in front of him, a common offensive move in Dorrami one made when trying to start a fight.


    The spitting didn''t phase Valkean in the least. "I never could master that long ''o'' sound. It''s hard to know when to place the emphasis. Maybe you could teach me?" He suggested.


    Prism snorted. "You''s don''t want me teachin'' nobody. How''s about you just look south, yeah?"


    Valkean chuckled heartily. "I''m not going to let you go, Prism. I made a promise to Captain Tson, and he will be expecting you to be in my charge when the next inspection comes around. If you had committed a less serious crime than attacking a nobleman, he would''ve been more lenient, I think."


    "Don''t think so," Prism replied. "I embarrassed the Rooba."


    "Rooba," Valkean said, smiling with amusement. "An old rooster. That''s quite a crude word in the Dorram. Captain Tson isn''t so bad, as far as soldiers go. There are less honorable men."


    "Honor? Who''s carin''?" Prism asked as they reached a stretch of road filled with cages and people inside them. Huge stakes cemented into the ground held iron rings connected to chains holding men and women alike. They belonged to all different ethnicities, though all appeared human from a cursory glance.


    Valkean led him to a cage with a single male inside. He wore a hooded jacket and simple pants, but kept his hands concealed in his pockets, and his face in the shadows of his hood. Intense eyes weighed on Prism from those shadows, and he pointedly avoided the prisoner''s gaze.


    "I''m going to let you stand here while I take care of some business. I''ll even leave your hands untied, if you promise not to move," Valkean said, reaching for the ropes around Prism''s wrists. He waited for Prism to nod in agreement to his terms before removing the bindings. As he stepped back he said, "But, break that promise, and I promise you I won''t let it go so easily."


    "What are you''s up to?" Prism asked.


    "I''m going to make a second pardon today. It''s expected of me during each sale season," Valkean replied. "I take two prisoners to work off their debt at the Temple of the Mountain."


    Prism nodded, not completely understanding what Valkean meant about a pardon. As far as he understood the term, ''pardon'' meant forgiveness for a crime, and following the monk to some temple didn''t seem like forgiveness. As soon as Valkean left, Prism searched for an opening to slip back into the city, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the monk as possible.


    Valkean''s voice immediately penetrated the surrounding chatter. "I told you not to move, Prism."


    Prism turned to peer through the crowd of prisoners and found Valkean staring at him only a few yards away, speaking to another human dressed in the blue and silver livery of Duke Selfaeth''s court. "Wasn''t movin''," Prism said firmly.


    "Good," Valkean said, turning away.


    Prism sighed and settled against the wall of the cage behind him. The longer he waited there, the more impatient he became, and once again his eyes wandered to different potential avenues of escape. He took several steps forward, resting against one of the large wooden stakes for cover, thinking Valkean had moved somewhere on the other side.


    He gasped and moved backward as a knife thudded into the wood next to his head, wobbling left and right as it settled into a crease in the wood. Prism dared to look over his shoulder and found Valkean and the liveried official talking together nearly thirty feet away.


    "I told you not to move!" Valkean said, projecting his voice over the din without yelling. "The next one will go through your hand."


    Prism gulped and raised his hands, moving back toward the cage with the hooded figure. Lesson learned, he stayed next to the cage, not wanting to earn Valkean''s ire again.


    "I''d listen to him, human," a voice said from behind him. "Did you see that throw?"


    Prism peered into the cage and met the eyes of the hooded figure, piercing violet in color and full of burning intensity. In the shadows of the hood, Prism could make out the pointed tips of the young Gor''s ears and the faintest hint of the tattoos which adorned them.


    "You''s a Gor!" Prism said with surprise.


    "Sure as a windy night in the Dobrag," the Gor replied, rolling his eyes as he pushed back his hood, revealing his golden-blonde hair over his tanned skin, and the face of a boy a few years his senior. The tattoos on his ears became much more obvious in full light, twin snakes with the tail at the tip of the ears and the head on the lobe. "You''re a sharp one, huh?" The Gor said with a sneer. "Name''s Kaeral. Kaeral Elrhanadan."


    "Gor''s kill humans," Prism replied, his eyes narrowing.


    "Not all of us. Some of us like to live among you," Kaeral replied. "Especially when we''re not welcome back home." He finished the statement with a smirk and nodded toward the post with the knife jutting from its side. "Do you think you could hand me that knife?"


    "If''n I do that, he''ll kill me," Prism said, shaking his head.


    "If''n you help me," Kaeral replied mockingly, "I''ll help you escape him. I know magic."


    "Magic?" Prism echoed. "Them''s smoketales. Unless you''s talkin'' spirits in your inks."


    "No. Watch," Kaeral said, removing his hands from his pockets and revealing sharp nails on spindly fingers. He scratched a series of symbols in a ring in the wooden bottom of his cage, then placed a hand in the center of the ring, putting the other on one of the bars of the cage. The bar bent slightly, but otherwise remained fixed in place.


    Prism''s eyes widened at the minor display of power. He''d heard the Gor could manipulate the elements, but he''d never seen it happen before. Such tales usually remained confined to a campfire, and never reality. "Ah! Why you''s need me then?" Prism asked.


    "Just because I can make the metal bend a little, doesn''t mean I can break it without tools. The knife will help," Kaeral said. "So, fetch it for me."


    Prism nodded, liking his odds with a magician on his side. He stepped back toward the post, reaching to take the knife from it. "Here. Make it quick¡ª" he started as he gripped the hilt of the blade but screamed as another blade pierced the back of his hand. "Yaaah!"


    Valkean walked steadily toward him, another knife in his hand and poised to throw as necessary as he met Prism''s eyes. "Prism . . . we''re going to have to work on your understanding of ''not moving''." He ignored Prism then, turning his attention to Kaeral. "I see you''ve met our other acquisition. Master Elrhanadan, of the Northern Tribes."


    Kaeral snorted. "You''ve come to pardon me, m-onk?" He drew out the syllables in a mocking tone, his fierce violet eyes blazing with hatred.


    "It seems it''s your lucky day," Valkean said, his smile tightening. "No hard labor for you, just hard training."


    "At your order? You must be joking," Kaeral replied.


    "Not at all. You''ve already met your training partner. It seems silly to let that go to waste," Valkean said.


    "Aren''t you''s goin'' to do somethin''?" Prism cried, staring at the knife in his hand with horror. Screaming wouldn''t do him any good, but he didn''t want to do anything else. Blood dripped from both sides of the wound, slowly pooling at his feet. Knife-handling had been a major part of his upbringing with Tobrig, and he knew better than to take the knife out without something to staunch the blood flow.


    Valkean reached into his robes and withdrew a long scarf. He handed it to Prism. "Here. Wrap it up," he said before reaching to take the knife from the post and sliding it inside the other half of his robe. "And then hand me the knife so I can clean it." Prism nodded dumbly but did as he was told. Valkean offered him no option but obedience. "Do you understand honor now, Prism?"


    "No," Prism said, whimpering in pain as he removed the knife. He grimaced, wrapping the scarf around his hand as tightly as possible.


    Valkean stopped him and gently took over wrapping the wound, applying proper pressure with careful and practiced hands. "Honor means you keep your promises," he explained. "You dishonored yours by moving and trying to free your new friend after telling me you wouldn''t move. I honored mine by putting a knife through your hand. Don''t worry, we''ll stop and have that healed. Tomorrow." His eyes and amused smile made it difficult for Prism to trust him.


    "T''morrow?" Prism asked with frantic eyes.


    Valkean nodded and said, "Be careful with it. Keep applying pressure so you don''t bleed out too much. We''ll get it healed by a Fedain first thing in the morning."


    "Bani Sikooba!" Prism cursed in Dorrami.


    "Now there''s the Prism I expect to see," Valkean said, patting Prism''s arm gently. "Keep that fire, boy. It''ll keep you from becoming a Rooba."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Within the hour, Prism and Kaeral sat in the bed of an old work truck while Valkean and another monk rode in the cab. Laborers from the Prisoners'' Market had placed Kaeral''s entire cage inside the bed, while Prism remained unbound except for the makeshift bandage on his hand, which he held in a vice-like grip with his other hand.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    To avoid dwelling on the pain, his thoughts instead drifted to the strange day he''d had. At the beginning of the day, he''d been on his way to Kob, to be sold for three years of labor by Boggi. He''d met, grown attached to, and threatened to kill an attractive young nobleman in the space of an hour, and then had his contract purchased by the most unusual man he''d ever met.


    Despite the pain he''d endured along the way, this was the greatest adventure he''d ever had, and the intrigue kept him hooked. As much as he wanted to run the other direction, two things stood in the way. One, Valkean would catch him¡ªthis was no longer a risk, but a definite fact. Two, he needed healing anyway, and now he wanted to see what happened next.


    The truck turned north, heading toward the low hills on the outskirts of Kobinaru. A large structure with decorative slanted roofs and a high wall stood prominent on the tallest hill. Great trees adorned the hill, and some sat within the walls themselves. No trees stood close enough to the outside of the wall to allow easy entrance. A pair of heavy doors served as a gate, and their current road took a winding path up the side of the hill and led directly to the gate.


    This was the Temple of the Mountain, Prism''s destination. As much as he''d resisted the idea before, the structure piqued his curiosity. His pride didn''t allow him to admit his excitement, however, not even when Kaeral asked him plainly, "Why are you just riding along? You could jump out and run."


    Prism raised his injured hand. "I need healin''."


    "Come on . . . you must have a better reason than that," Kaeral said. "Don''t tell me that monk got to you."


    Prism shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Kaeral''s gaze as he stared at the passing scenery. They''d just left Kobinaru behind, passing easily through gates identical to the ones which had stalled him and Boggi earlier. Valkean had passed through the gates with barely a wave from the soldiers to delay him.


    "You know what they make you do here, don''t you? Training every day, nothing but simple meals . . . you''ll have to shave your head. What are they going to do to my beautiful hair!?" Kaeral bemoaned, running his fingers through his golden locks. Prism regarded him curiously, admitting that Kaeral did, in fact, have beautiful hair, though not as beautiful as Grim''s.


    Grim. He was the third reason to stay, as irrational as it seemed. Grim lived in Kobinaru, and if Prism wanted to be anywhere near the strange youth who''d rescued him from the soldiers¡ªalbeit only temporarily¡ªhe''d have to play by the rules.


    "Are you even listening, Prism?" Kaeral asked.


    "Tryin'' not to," Prism admitted, glaring at the Gor.


    "You really want this life?" Kaeral said with a sneer.


    Prism shrugged. "Beats runnin''. I guess I''m sick of bein'' a wild chicken."


    "Oh boy . . . you''ve got it real bad, don''t you?" Kaeral said, laughing dryly. "That monk sold you on something. I can tell I''m going to have a hard time breaking you back down."


    "Breakin'' me down?" Prism said, looking back at him.


    "Yep. You and I run together, I can see it. I''m a thief, you''re a thief . . . we always know each other, just by a look. Don''t you dare say I''m wrong."


    Prism confirmed the assertion with a nod. "You''s right about that."


    "Then we''ve got to help each other survive. Help each other get out, too," Kaeral said.


    "No." Prism shook his head. "Survive, yes. I can help. Escape? No, I can''t help."


    "Fine. Half an agreement is better than none, I guess," Kaeral said, sighing deeply. He rested against the back of the cage for a minute, then came back to the bars, gripping one in each hand as he insisted. "But I''m still going to try and get out. Women aren''t allowed in the Order of the Mountain, you know. I hear the monks don''t even have sex! What kind of people don''t have sex?"


    "Are we''s supposed to be joinin'' the Order?" Prism asked. Following the trail of adventure was one thing but abiding by such strict restrictions was another. He didn''t like restrictions, no matter what the reward might be.


    Kaeral waved his hand dismissively and said, "Nah . . . just training with them. Just rehabilitating ourselves or some nonsense like that. I hear a lot of Valkean''s pardons end up becoming monks, though. They stay, out of that sense of honor he was telling you about. Are you going to do that, give up sex and fun for the rest of your life?"


    Prism shrugged, but eventually shook his head. He didn''t want to give up anything, certainly not anything which might make him happy one day. Tobrig always said sex made him happy, though Prism had never had the opportunity to experience it for himself.


    "I didn''t think so," Kaeral said. "The world is rough enough as it is without removing the few things that make it livable."


    "The world''s rough? Seems fair ''nough. You''s take advantage of what''s given you, yeah?" Prism replied.


    Kaeral responded with a blank stare at first, following it with a riotous laugh. "Haven''t you looked around, Prism? Come on, I''m a street kid, spent all my youth in Kobinaru. This is the second time I''ve been caught, and the first time was just a year of labor on the docks. If you''ve been paying attention at all, you''d see what''s going on. The soldiers get tenser every day. People try to ignore what''s happening as the walls get higher, and more uniforms flood through the streets. Not to mention our benevolent rulers the Fedain never seem to give a damn that there''s no food in the South." His eyes narrowed, and his grip tightened around the bars in his grasp. "They don''t care that human lives are spent fighting my people to the North, just to keep their status quo. And then there''s the war with Oligan! Talk about a mess! There''s even people saying the ceasefire might end soon. We could be invaded, or worse! And you want me to give up sex?"


    "I didn''t say nothin'' like that," Prism said.


    "No, but Valkean will. He''ll convince you it''s your duty to the world to give your all to protect it," Kaeral said with a derisive snort. "That''s all they want is your devotion. To be loyal to their creeds and dogmas to the end of your days. If you want to trade this cage for that one, that''s on you, but I only have a four-year sentence to live out, and I intend to stop there."


    The conversation had distracted Prism enough that he''d failed to notice their climb up the hill. As the truck came to a stop before the double gates, Kaeral pointed ahead and said, "Oh, it looks like we''ve arrived at the Temple. Ready for the fun to begin?"


    Prism sighed and ignored Kaeral, directing his gaze instead to the view. He expected it to be his last view of the outside world for a long time to come. Kobinaru stretched out before him, a metropolis extending to the ocean in the west and far to the south, covering and disappearing behind the southern hills. Little of the city rested behind the massive walls, and the connected settlements to the south had little protection at all.


    Though they didn''t need it, either. All the prominent buildings aside from the temple resided within the walled section. The Council Chambers stood prominent in the center of the city, and The Duke''s Palace sat behind another wall in the noble district, built on a small hill rising above the rest of the city. At least, it had before the modern additions of towering apartment and business buildings filled the skyline.


    Kobinaru hadn''t seemed so massive when Prism had paraded through the streets, though he wished he could''ve seen it from the back of Boggi''s constabulary vehicle when they first arrived. He''d never seen such a vast population center¡ªnothing of this size existed in the Dorram.


    Creaking alerted him to the opening gates of the temple, and he turned to watch the truck drive slowly through the entrance. As beautiful as the city skyline had been, the temple grounds took his breath away. A beautiful garden filled nearly every corner, except for the small gravel driveway leading to a simple garage. The massive size of the trees became more apparent than ever, spreading wide with spring blossoms adding their subtle mosaic of color as a frame for the boldness of the temple itself.


    The temple rose five stories in tiered, slanted levels. From Prism''s current vantage point, the roof of the fourth level prevented him from seeing most of the topmost level. From its apparent size, he guessed it held no more than a single room. Part of him yearned to reach that pinnacle and look out toward the city again, just to take in the view, but the monks would catch him quickly. He''d have to wait until a proper chance presented itself.


    The truck came to a stop and the gates creaked close. Grandmaster Valkean stepped out of the cab and came to Prism. Two monks in identical robes walked toward them from the front of the temple. "I hope the ride wasn''t too bumpy for you. This isn''t much of a mountain, I know, but it is the largest hill in the area. It''s certainly nothing compared to the Sacred Mountain in Jurro," Valkean said, smiling as he gestured for Prism to leave the truck bed. Prism complied and switched places with the truck driver, who unlocked Kaeral''s cage.


    "We''ve kept the road unpaved to deter traffic, though unfortunately many still come here seeking enlightenment as if it''s free," Valkean continued as Kaeral crawled out of the cage, stretching cramped muscles. "Come on, both of you. It''s time to show you around. Master Delm and Master Porat will give you the grand tour. Don''t make trouble for them." He indicated the two monks who''d approached from the temple and then said to Prism, "I''ll have Master Janlynd see about your hand."


    "Come this way, please," Master Delm said, waving Prism and Kaeral forward. His broad shoulders and steady gait spoke of a man built like an ox beneath his robes, though those same robes obscured any other signs of his physique.


    Master Porat was an older man, whose grizzled face gave the appearance of many years spent frowning. Despite his age, he had a sureness to his step and had the largest hands Prism had ever seen. Neither monk was to be trifled with, though as Master Porat spoke, the weight of experience permeated every syllable. "You may roam freely within the Temple walls, except for the Masters'' chambers. You may only visit there upon invitation." He met Kaeral''s eyes and then Prism''s, pausing long enough for both young men to feel the intensity of his glare. "Regardless of how you spend whatever free time you have available, you must still complete your duties on schedule, including your physical training. A full list of your duties will be delivered to you this evening."


    "I can''t read letters," Prism admitted.


    "Then your duties will be assigned orally, and you will be expected to commit them to memory," Master Porat replied, without hesitation. "Among them will be lessons in reading and writing, which you will study every day until you master both."


    Kaeral wrapped his arm around Prism''s shoulder, making them both stagger for a moment. "Don''t worry, Prism. I''ll help you out," he said with a bright grin.


    "You will not be permitted to socialize during study time, even if one of you is available and the other is not. We are committed to the pursuit of knowledge here above all else," Master Porat said sternly.


    Kaeral dropped his arm and muttered, "Sounds lovely."


    "You will be assigned a personal mentor, who will be charged with seeing that you fulfill your duties to the fullest extent of your ability," Master Porat continued as he led them closer to the temple. "If you are caught trying to leave the compound, you will be assigned additional duties by your mentor. If you are caught causing trouble, you will be assigned additional duties by your mentor. If you fail to report to your studies on time, you will be assigned additional duties by your mentor. Is this understood?"


    "Yes," Prism replied.


    Kaeral sighed and said, "Sure thing, Master."


    Master Delm took up where Master Porat left off. "To the north are the prayer gardens. You will not be expected to pray with us unless you decide to convert to the Order. The eastern grounds are for training, and the western grounds are for studying and work."


    "Where do we''s sleep?" Prism asked, hoping to find a place to redress his wound.


    "That''s where we''re going next," Master Delm said, and showed the barest hint of a smile. "Right this way, please."


    The pair of monks led them into the temple proper, down a hallway, to a row of closed doors. Master Delm opened one of the doors for Prism, while Master Porat motioned for Kaeral to follow him to the end of the hall.


    Inside the room Prism found a simple bedroll and a round pillow, and a wooden chest sat in the corner at the foot of the bedroll. On the other side of the room sat a floor desk below a mirror at waist level, meant to be used by someone kneeling or sitting cross-legged. Opposite the door was a shuttered window, the sill resting at chest level.


    "I''ll leave you to get settled in," Master Delm said. "Fresh clothing is available in the chest."


    He left Prism unattended, closing the door behind him. Prism immediately checked the door, expecting to find it locked with him inside. Instead, he opened it and peered into the hallway, seeing Kaeral similarly poking his head out in bewilderment. They shared a shrug before returning to inspecting their respective chambers.


    Prism''s immediate focus became the chest in the corner, and he moved to open it, hoping to find medical supplies to take care of his injury. All he found inside were simple tan robes, clean and pressed. He closed the chest in disgust, finding nothing to help him with his current predicament.


    He turned with a start as the door opened, and a monk stepped into his chamber. It took him a moment to realize this monk was female, and a Fedain female at that. The bulky robes obscured her gender but didn''t remove all signs of her ample breasts, and the diminished light subdued the shine of her pale skin.


    "Who are you?" Prism asked.


    "Master Jan. Or Janlynd, if you prefer," the monk said, inclining her head humbly. When she raised it again, she wore a kind smile, and her eyes told of a thousand tranquil mysteries. Prism immediately felt at peace under her gaze.


    "I thought the Order didn''t like women," Prism said.


    "Human women," Master Jan said, calmly reaching toward him. "Let me see your hand."


    Prism extended his injured hand toward her, and she took it gently in her own. She smiled as soon as she touched him, and he felt a warmth travel through his arm and into his core. She unwrapped the bandage and placed her hands on either side of the cut, which had already stopped bleeding from her initial contact. "You''ve been touched by a Fedain recently. Interesting." She met Prism''s eyes as her own filled with enlightenment. "Oh, that''s right, you must be the one who attacked Grimfaeth."


    "You''s know Grim?" Prism asked.


    "He''s the son of Duke Selfaeth and has studied with us in the past," Master Jan explained. "All Fedain are bound by a form cultural pacifism. We are only allowed to study non-lethal techniques, and Grim achieved an early education in all of them."


    Completely at ease, Prism let the words tumble from his mouth without care. "He''s good lookin''."


    "A strange thing for a human to say," Master Jan said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought in your culture, loving another man invoked a death sentence." She hummed a soft tune, like a lullaby, as she massaged his hand.


    "I lived in the Dorram. Our way''s of livin'' are a bit dif''rent from Southlanders," Prism replied.


    The wound closed entirely, and Master Jan pulled her hands away, resting them against her thighs as she let Prism test out his healed hand. "Still, I suggest you keep those thoughts to yourself from here on out," she said pleasantly. "While a Fedain may accept such a thought without pause, many of the human monks here would have an issue with that. The primary reason human women are not allowed here is because the monks are supposed to be free from temptation. Since Ultakan law forbids human men from mating, such temptations are not even considered here in the Order."


    Prism blinked, realizing for the first time what he''d said to her. "Thank you''s for the warnin'' . . . I hadn''t thought nothin'' of it."


    "You''re a nice boy. How''d you end up with such a hefty sentence?" Master Jan asked, regarding him curiously. "What possessed you to attack a nobleman? Especially one you . . . think is good looking."


    "I thought I could use him to escape," Prism admitted with a frown.


    "Escape what?" Master Jan replied. "Justice?"


    Prism looked away, unable to face the truth in her eyes. "I''ve had enough about justice."


    "Ah . . . you''re trying to escape consequences for your actions. Those eventually catch up no matter how much you run," Master Jan said, nodding to herself. "The world is filled with people running from consequences, and eventually they run into each other. The collision affects everyone around them." She gestured to the shuttered window in the center of the far wall. "Here, you can face them with honor and discipline, and learn to work through them."


    Prism didn''t have anything to say to her wisdom, and instead asked, "Will you''s be my mentor?"


    "No. I have other students who require my attention, I''m sorry. Though I will ensure you have a mentor who will meet your needs," Master Jan replied. "And with whom you may speak freely."


    Prism understood the implication in her words and bowed low to her. "Thank you''s."


    "You''re welcome, Prism," Master Jan said softly. "I don''t know what the future holds for you, or if the world will ever accept you for who you are, but here you can figure out how to move forward. And you can dream of whatever¡ªor whomever¡ªyou wish. No one can take your dreams from you. Rest well. I will see you at the morning meal."


    Prism smiled as she left, and for the first time in his whole life, a small hope formed within his heart. Perhaps he had finally found a place he could call home.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Ghayle sensed that Prism needed a moment to collect his thoughts and dropped her hand to the side. Prism wiped a tear from his cheek, unashamed it fell in the first place. He breathed deeply, as if sucking in the last traces of memory from the air itself.


    "She remains the kindest woman I''ve ever met," Prism said solemnly.


    "She changed your mind about things," Ghayle said, nodding. "If you hadn''t met her, what would''ve happened?"


    "I''d probably have tried to escape with Kaeral. Once I got sick of the place, anyway," Prism said. "It''s hard to say, but it was her words and her presence which made me feel at home."


    Ghayle smiled. "If you''d left, you both would''ve ended up dead in a gutter."


    "Probably," Prism agreed.


    "I have more to show you," Ghayle said. "I want you to understand it all, from the perspective of the present."


    "Okay." Prism nodded, but he couldn''t stop the edge in his voice as he added, "But when I look at Janlynd, all I see is a world which should''ve never been destroyed."


    "I didn''t destroy her, Prism, and you know it."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 5: A Matter of Blood

    Chapter 5


    "Quick, turn on the newscast," Veil said, bursting into Grim''s room without knocking.


    Grim quickly pulled the covers over his naked body. He wasn''t ashamed of his nakedness, but he didn''t want her to see the results of the fantasies he''d pursued for the past hour. He''d done the same a dozen times at least since meeting Prism a week before, but some things were inappropriate for even twins to share.


    "What? Why?" Grim asked, making no move to access the broadcast screen on the opposite side of his room. If he hadn''t misplaced his activation rod, he would''ve turned it on remotely, but climbing out of bed required showing Veil the semen coating his stomach and chest.


    "There''s something happening downtown. Have you heard anything about the protests?" Veil asked.


    "What protests?" Grim replied dumbly.


    "Blood, Grim! Don''t you pay attention to anything?" Veil said, turning away from him to manually turn on the broadcast screen.


    "Nope," Grim said. As Veil faced the other way, Grim reached for his discarded shirt, wiped his skin clean, and slid out of bed, searching for some fresh underwear.


    Veil wasn''t even watching him, her attention glued to the large screen and the scene unfolding across it¡ªvideo footage of a large mob running away from the Council Chambers in downtown Kobinaru. Grim slipped into some underwear and joined her at the screen.


    The newscaster''s voice spoke over the footage as Veil increased the volume.". . . the brawl broke out amongst the protestors of the new Immigration Act which put a temporary freeze on all refugees from Lodan. The Ultakan Military was forced to turn their heat-rifles on the violent protestors in order to drive the mob back from the Council Chambers."


    Grim grew more uneasy with each passing second of the recording. Human protestors ran for their lives as the Ultakan military police moved after them. Shots rang out in the night as radiation bullets rained down on the crowd. The back lines of the fleeing protestors collapsed to the ground just before the broadcast cut out.


    "Is Father all right?" Grim asked. "He wasn''t there, was he?"


    Veil shook her head and glanced at Grim. "No, he''d already come home for the day, but several government representatives were injured."


    Although Grim wanted to sigh in relief, another question demanded an answer first. "How many people died?"


    "At least thirty-two from the last reports, all of whom were protestors. There were at least a hundred injured by the military''s counter-attack, however," Veil replied, grimacing.


    Grim''s face clouded over with anger. "Who gave them the order to fire?"


    "General Parrow."


    "What!? Why?" Grim asked. "He''s usually willing to resort to non-violent measures first."


    "Father is trying to figure that out right now," Veil replied. "It seems several healers have already arrived, but I think maybe you and I should go down there, too. With an escort, of course.


    Grim eyed her skeptically. "Would Father approve of that?"


    Veil nodded and said, "I already ran it by him. Let''s go as soon as you''re dressed." Her gaze flicked momentarily downward and she added, "though perhaps you should run through a shower first. You missed a spot."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    They made good time. Veil''s forethought in speaking with their father meant an escort had already formed by the time Grim had dressed, and they made it to the hospital within a half an hour of the newscast.


    Their position and escort ensured them swift access to the emergency reception center, though the Fedain doctor greeting them as they passed through the double doors had not been informed of their coming. His grizzled features creased with a tired and polite smile as he greeted them. "Lady Veil and Lord Grim . . . To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"


    "We came to lend our energies in healing the injured protestors," Veil said, taking the lead as the heir to the Duchy. Grim shrank some under the gazes of the injured people in the room, many still bleeding from wounds sustained during the protest.


    "We don''t want their help! You''re the ones we''re protesting!" One of the patients nearest them called out, his face flushed from anger despite the bloody mess on his shoulder where his hand applied pressure.


    "Yeah! Get out of here, Pale!" Another voice shouted.


    "Maybe this was a bad idea . . ." Veil said, avoiding their gazes by turning to Grim.


    "No. No, this is probably the best idea you''ve ever had, Veil," Grim said, charged by the passion in these people. They were angry, sure, but rightfully so. Despite the nobility''s best intentions in protecting their people, they''d failed here, and now they had to make it right somehow. If that meant suffering through some angry shouting, Grim would gladly pay that price.


    He''d spent significant time among them, walking the streets and getting to know the people as well as his station would allow. He knew them, loved them, and desired to make things better with all his heart. According to Fedain culture, religion, and education, being a Fedain meant sacrificing himself for others, and he''d never fully understood that responsibility until this moment. He addressed the room, projecting his voice over the din. "People of Kobinaru, I know you''re hurting, I know you feel you can''t trust us, but please allow us to meet you partway. Please let us show you we have good intentions. Allow us to help heal you?"


    "How come there aren''t more of you here? Aren''t you Fedain all supposed to protect us?" Another voice replied. It was quieter, more composed than the first two angry responses, but it rang truer than all the others.


    The first man added to the statement with the same vitriol as before. "Yeah, how come the doctors are the only ones here other than you? Where''s the rest of you Pales?"


    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room, and Veil took up where Grim left off and said, "Some have forgotten their responsibilities to the people, and we will do our best to correct that problem. But we are here now, let us help you."


    While not all the murmurs following her statement were positive, some agreed and that was enough for the tension to dissipate. Grim moved to help but stopped when Veil put a hand on his arm.


    "Have you thought about using the vaccine?" She asked the doctor.


    "It''s still experimental and has only shown success in a small number of cases," the doctor replied, shaking his head. "I don''t think it''s ready for widespread distribution yet."


    "Vaccine?" Grim asked.


    "The research department here at the hospital has been developing something revolutionary," Veil explained. "Father and I have followed it since they first started trials last year. It involves nano-bioengineering. Modified Fedain blood cells are injected into a human to act as aids in natural healing, essentially replicating our own abilities on a minor scale."


    "But there are problems," a tired voice spoke from the side, and Master Janlynd of the Temple of the Mountain stood from her crouch beside the bed of an injured protestor. She walked toward them and gestured for the doctor to resume his duties, implying with her hands that she''d take charge of the two nobles. As soon as the doctor left, she continued her explanation. "Unfortunately, getting the blood cells to self-replicate in the bloodstream has been the largest issue. Getting them to target every injury has also proven difficult. Convincing them to do both has been . . ." she hesitated as if searching for the right words, and settled on two, "nearly impossible."


    "Master Jan," Veil said, bowing in respect to her former tutor. "It''s good to see you. The Temple responded to the call for healers?"


    Master Jan bowed a hair lower in response. "Yes, of course."


    "You look like you''ve already reached your limit for the evening. Let us take over," Grim suggested, reaching out to touch her but stopping short. As a Master of the Order, Master Janlynd had taken vows against physical contact unconnected to her duties as a monk. Even a comforting touch would go unappreciated.


    "No, I need to make sure these people are taken care of," Master Jan said, but her body betrayed her, and she swayed on her feet, almost losing her balance until Veil reached out and stabilized her. Having once been Master Jan''s pupil, Veil''s contact could be considered proper, though even she pushed the limits of propriety, guiding Master Jan back onto an empty hospital bed.


    "You''ll kill yourself if you heal any more tonight," Veil said as Grim joined them. "You''ve already taken years off your life by giving up so much of your energy. Let us give some of ourselves to these people."


    "You''re too kind, Veil," Master Jan said. She smiled at Grim and went on. "Both of you are. The doctors have given all the energy they can, too. Where are the rest of our brothers and sisters? Are these people correct? Have we Fedain truly forgotten our responsibility to watch out for our neighbors?"


    "Veil and I have not," Grim said. "Hopefully that will be enough for now."


    "I''m going to see who needs my help most. Grim, do you want to start on the other side of the room?" Veil asked, letting go of Master Jan''s arm as she turned to face him. Grim nodded and moved to follow her but stopped in surprise when Master Jan caught his arm.


    He turned to face her, and she let go of him. If she felt embarrassed by her actions, she didn''t show it. "Before you go, I met a young friend of yours earlier this week. Prism."


    Grim''s eyes lit up immediately. "How is he?"


    "He''s not taking well to the restrictions placed on him, but he''s also intrigued by the lessons Highmaster Vinhkroludar is teaching him. I can see he has a thirst to learn his place in the world," Master Jan replied.


    "His mentor is the Gor master?" Grim asked in surprise. "How''d that happen? I thought Master Vinh didn''t take students?"


    Master Jan chuckled. "I asked him as a personal favor, only to find out Grandmaster Valkean had already asked him."


    Grim remembered Master Vinh well. Much as Janlynd was the only Fedain monk at the Kobinaru branch of the Order of the Mountain, Vinhkroludar was the only Gor master, though he also bore the distinction of being the only Gor master in the entire order. He''d never fit in with the other masters, as much for the racial hatred which permeated human and Gor societies as Master Vinh''s own peculiarities. But from the brief interaction Grim had with Prism, he saw only good possibilities between the rogue and the eccentric master. "I''m sure they''ll be a good fit."


    He smiled and was about to turn away when Master Jan spoke again. "One more thing, Grim. That boy seemed positively smitten by you. I advised him to keep it silent, considering the way human culture in Ultaka treats those who love their same kind, but I thought it adorable and hoped it would make you smile."


    Grim nearly swooned but managed to show only the slightest blush. "It does. Thank you, Master Jan."


    Master Jan smiled, but her tired eyes moistened in the bright hospital lights. "All we can do in this world is try and look out for each other. It''s the only cause worth living and dying for."Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Grim felt a need to remain with her for a little while longer, and he rushed to find some excuse to stay. "Master Jan, I''ve never healed a wound from a heat rifle, could you give me some pointers before I go help?"


    She nodded, and though the sadness didn''t leave her eyes, they glowed a little brighter, if for only a moment. "As you know, ''heat'' is more of a misnomer, as it refers to the radioactive particles embedded in the bullets. The idea¡ªas awful as it is¡ªwas that by inflicting radiation poisoning on the enemy, they could be debilitated in the long-term and seek Fedain help to be cured more effectively. We call ourselves pacifists yet allow our human military to inflict horrible damage in our name. It almost makes you wonder how we can dare to call ourselves benevolent."


    Grim agreed, but despite his personal feelings on the matter, the people still needed him, and so he made sure to keep Master Jan on track. "And how do I heal radiation poisoning effectively?"


    "Sorry, I got a little preachy there, didn''t I?" Master Jan said. "The first thing you''ll need to do is coax the bullet and radioactive particles from the wound, provided you''re skilled enough to convince the blood to move for you. You''ll have to use their cells to guide the particles out. If they''re too deeply embedded, a surgeon will have to do the work, and you''ll have to pay close enough attention to know the difference."


    As she explained, Grim asked questions where he needed until he had a good enough understanding to feel comfortable. When he left her side, however, the darkness behind her eyes unsettled him more than his uncertainty ever had.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Grim and Veil sat in the hospital break room, Veil laying on top of her brother, her hair a sweaty mess as he stroked her arm. He stared blankly ahead, doing all he could to fight off sleep. At least he had hunger to keep him awake, or he would''ve slipped into unconsciousness the moment he sat.


    "Are you as exhausted as I am?" Veil asked, yawning.


    "Yes," Grim replied. He tried to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze. "I should''ve eaten more. Though that would''ve only helped a little."


    Veil raised her head off his chest but immediately dropped it back down from exhaustion. "You didn''t push yourself too far, I hope?"


    "I don''t think so," Grim said, though the opposite could''ve well been true, if he honestly assessed his physical state. Fedain healed by manipulating the life force inside themselves and transferring it to their patients. A small amount of healing only used the energy gained from food and rest, but any greater healing sapped the energy from a Fedain''s own life-force. Benevolent Fedain often died early deaths from giving too much of themselves to others. "It wasn''t easy to stop, though. There''s still people hurting in there, but I don''t think any will die, at least."


    "Heat-rifles are troublesome, but at least they kill slowly," Veil said, stifling another yawn. "We can come back tomorrow, once we''ve had some time to rest, and help out with anyone who is still suffering from radiation poisoning."


    "That''s a good idea," Grim replied, blinking back tired tears. "Maybe we can convince some others to come down, too? Maybe even Father can lend a hand."


    Veil shook her head. "He''ll be busy with the fallout from this incident. I don''t think he''ll have the time." She found the strength to rise from somewhere and slid fully into her own chair. "Still, someone has to look out for them. Fedain may rule in Ultaka, but obviously, of the millions of Fedain, most aren''t in the nobility. We have thirty-thousand Fedain residents in Kobinaru. Why aren''t they here? That''s enough healers to heal the entire mob of protestors without sacrificing more than their breakfast energy, much less tapping into their own lifeforce."


    Grim sighed and leaned forward. It helped him resist the urge to lay his head back and succumb to exhaustion. "Maybe the problem is as bad as the people say it is? I was out on those streets a week ago. The humans didn''t seem happy to see me or Sharis, I can tell you that much."


    "And you''re even popular, as far as nobles go," Veil replied.


    "Shut up. I am not," Grim scoffed. "The nobility hates me."


    "I meant you''re popular with the general populace," Veil said, ignoring his annoyed tone. "You know that''s the reason Father allows you as much freedom as he does, right?"


    "What do you mean?" Grim asked.


    "Grim . . ." Veil sighed his name, as if trying to figure out how to explain her thoughts in simple terms. "Father has to balance Fedain policy with doing what''s right by his people. I do, too, as the heir. You? You get to focus just on the people. Do you realize how much of a relief that is for him?" She smiled and put her hand on his neck, massaging the skin there. "He''s always cared about the common people, whether they be Fedain or Human, but the government ties our hands. Yours are free. You get to do whatever you want." Her body tensed, and she pulled away, folding her hands in her lap.


    "And you resent that?" Grim asked, trying to decipher the meaning behind her tension.


    "Only when you play instead of help," Veil muttered.


    Grim leaned back again, sighing as he turned to her. Their eyes locked as they communicated silently for several seconds before he responded. "Playing is helping. You should''ve seen the looks on the faces of the Humans I danced with. Before I joined the parade, they looked at me as an alien, but after I started dancing I was one of them. I could feel it."


    "But you''re not one of them," Veil stated. "You have to be better."


    Their gazes lingered on each other for several seconds before the sound of footsteps drew their attention to the door leading outside. A member of their escort, a young soldier barely older than them, bowed to them before saying, "There''s a disturbance outside, you both need to be on your guard."


    "Another protest?" Veil asked, summoning energy from somewhere to rise to her feet. Grim followed, drawing on as much adrenaline as he could manage.


    "There is a crowd gathering, yes. It seems to be led by a Fedain monk," the soldier explained.


    "Master Janlynd?" Grim asked, the dark look in the monk''s eyes coming back to him. He shuddered as he remembered their conversation, the cool way in which she''d spoken of Fedain responsibility. It resonated with him now more than ever as he stood facing the possibility of what those thoughts might have led her to do.


    "Yes," the soldier replied. "She''s leading the mob to the Council Chambers." He bowed again and remained in that position as he said, "The Duke would prefer if you remain here for the time being. By your leave, I need to go secure the perimeter with the rest of the escort."


    Veil waved him away and the soldier took off at a run. Grim wasted no time in walking back into the emergency room.


    "Where are you going?" Veil asked, following on his heels.


    "To be better." Grim said, moving past the emergency room and into the doctor''s locker room. He checked lockers until he found one with clothing inside, pulled a dark, hooded jacket from the contents, and slipped it on over his clothing. He walked over to the medical supplies table and took a dark surgical mask, slipping it on to obscure the lower part of his face.


    Veil caught onto his plan and caught his arm just as he was about to leave the room. "Wait for me to find a disguise. We''ll go together."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Veil and Grim struggled to stay together as they moved along with the mob toward the Council Chambers, and took to holding hands to prevent separation. The people surrounding them were incensed, and the anger and vitriol flowing through the crowd made both their hearts race.


    But they remained determined to follow the crowd all the way to witness what was happening. Even though they hadn''t spoken about it, both felt the need to witness the public unrest firsthand, instead of through the filter of a newscast. They owed it to their people.


    "What are we doing following a Pale?" Someone shouted nearby as they neared their destination. Grim inclined his head toward the sound, hoping those nearby wouldn''t notice his pale skin, eyes, and hair.


    "She said she had something to show us," someone answered. "And she helped heal people at the hospital."


    "And that means we should care?" A third voice asked.


    All these voices echoed in Grim''s ears but were soon drowned out by a soldier standing at the barricaded doors of the Council Chambers using a voice amplifier. "PEOPLE OF KOBINARU, YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO DISPERSE." The soldier lowered the large, cone-shaped device to assess the crowd''s response.


    "This doesn''t look good," Grim said, glancing nervously around the crowd.


    Veil nodded in agreement, her eyes wild as she followed Grim''s frantic gaze. "If Father knew we were here, he''d be upset."


    "Father''s up there, look," Grim said, pointing to the balcony on the third floor of the Council Chambers. Duke Selfaeth stood among a contingent of human soldiers and Fedain council members, all looking down at the crowd. Contempt in some of their gazes made him fearful, though his father''s concerned expression gave him some hope. "I wonder what''s going to happen?"


    "Calm down. You keep pointing like that and people will see us," Veil said, pushing his arm down.


    The soldier with the voice amplifier spoke again. "IF YOU DO NOT DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY, WE WILL BE FORCED TO ARREST YOU."


    "That''s what started the last riot. Have they learned nothing?" Grim asked.


    "Father''s saying something to General Parrow. Hopefully they''ll be able to sort this out," Veil offered.


    "Look, Master Jan is asking to address the crowd," Grim said. Master Janlynd was climbing the steps at the front of the Council Chambers, her hands raised in surrender. She gestured for the soldier to lower the voice amplifier. The soldier looked to the General and the Duke for instruction and once he received confirmation, he extended the voice amplifier to Master Jan. "They''re giving her the chance."


    Master Jan declined to take the device, and instead turned toward the mob, raising her hands to silence the crowd. To Grim''s surprise, they showed deference to her and quieted, allowing her to speak freely.


    "My brothers and sisters, my friends and neighbors, I speak to you now not as a monk of the Mountain, nor as a Fedain, but as a citizen of this fine city," Master Jan said, her voice ringing with the power of a voice used to loud chanting.


    "What''s a Pale know about being a citizen?" One voice called out in response.


    She acknowledged the speaker with a nod but kept speaking to the crowd at large. "I know you''re upset about the recent restrictions placed on the people. The government is trying its best to reconcile those restrictions to protect the best interests of the people, and those of the state."


    Another voice added dissent to the first. "Best interests? What are you talking about?"


    "But it is not enough," Master Jan said, shaking her head as she lowered her hands. "The Fedain have forgotten their role. They have chosen to ignore our responsibility to ensure the good of the people. We hide in our homes while the sick and injured are left only to overworked medical staff when we could attend them ourselves. It is to every Fedain to heal. We are not allowed to cause harm to our people, and yet by refusing to help, we are harming them."


    She turned toward the balcony, shouting now to be heard by the crowd as she projected her voice upward to the Duke and the council. "I spent this evening in the company of those wounded in today''s incident. I gave all but my last breath to their health, and I would do so again and again in defense of the vows I hold sacred as a Fedain." The Duke remained expressionless, but the council regarded her with nothing but contempt. Master Jan appeared to be addressing Duke Selfaeth as she went on. "But others have grown fat on the labors of the common man and refuse to acknowledge our sacred responsibility."


    "So," Master Jan continued with a deathly calm. "I will give you one more last breath, and let it echo for eternity from the steps of this council, that we may never forget our responsibility again."


    Before anyone could even blink, Master Jan ripped open her robes and placed her hands on her naked chest. She activated her own blood, quickening it to a feverish pulse until the life-giving liquid betrayed her, shattering her heart with an explosive force as her chest and veins burst all over her body. Her broken corpse collapsed to the steps of the council, her blood showering the stone and staining it red as the crowd watched in stunned silence.


    Then the screaming began, a chorus of voices reacting in horror to the scene they''d just witnessed. Grim screamed along with them, only stopping when his voice grew too hoarse to continue.


    Veil did not, instead she tried to pull away, tried to rush through the crowd to the steps where the soldiers and the mob had already begun to clash. "Oh no . . ." she cried, turning back as she tried to wrest herself from Grim''s vice-grip. "Grim!" She shouted in desperation.


    Grim recovered his senses and pulled Veil back, crushing her to his chest. "We can''t get to her in time. Veil, you can''t. She''s already dead. We can''t revive the spark of life, only sustain it," Grim said. When Veil tried to break away again, Grim gripped both her shoulders and screamed in her face to get her to listen. "You know this!"


    "She . . . can''t be dead!" Veil said, her whole body shaking.


    Grim pulled her to the side. People were pushing everywhere, some trying to move toward the Council Chambers while others attempted to flee. "We have to get out of here. This is about to explode, and Father will go crazy once he learns we ditched our guards."


    "What about Father?" Veil asked, looking at the balcony as her sense returned to her. "This crowd is only going to get angrier."


    "Then we''ll come back tomorrow," Grim said. "We can''t do any more tonight. Come on, let''s get home."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism ripped himself away from Ghayle''s vision, sick to his stomach. He''d witnessed millions of deaths in his lifetime, some near and dear to him, most distant and unfamiliar. He''d grown numb to death, or so he''d thought until he witnessed Master Jan''s death.


    It was even worse through Grim''s eyes. Grim, who''d felt the ripples of the coming darkness long before anyone else, sensing it through the eyes of the martyr Janlynd. Grim, whose light died a little on that day.


    Grim, whom Prism loved more than any other, who proceeded to carry the weight of that moment with him for eight centuries. Prism wept on Ghayle''s shoulder.


    After a moment he wiped his eyes and suppressed his sobs, staring into the beauty of the garden as he gained control of his emotions once again. "I never knew Grim witnessed her death himself. I''d only ever had that conversation with Veil, and it was long after the fact. It affected them both in different ways, I suppose."


    "You remember it, though?" Ghayle asked.


    Prism nodded solemnly. "Yes. We didn''t get to see the newscast. The Temple didn''t have a broadcast screen, but we heard about it almost as soon as it happened. Grandmaster Valkean received word through his representative on the council, and he called an assembly to inform us of her passing. He made no mention of the political impact of her message, however."


    "It affected you, too," Ghayle said.


    "Definitely," Prism replied. "It was the first time I ever shed tears out of empathy, and out of losing someone important to me," he explained. "I didn''t even know why, other than that she''d been kind to me."


    "It was a moment of pure sacrifice," Ghayle said. "Her blood was used in the ritual to open the gate. It was the first ingredient Khalis acquired."


    "What did it represent?" Prism asked.


    "Destruction."


    Prism raised an eyebrow. "I would''ve thought a weapon would''ve served that purpose better."


    "Weapons are destructive, yes, but hers was a moment of pure destruction. Obliteration of self runs contrary to creation, and a martyr''s blood is the purest destructive force in the universe," Ghayle replied.


    Prism shook his head, failing to comprehend her logic. "But her sacrifice made things better for a while. Shouldn''t it have stalled your need for the demons?"


    "It did," Ghayle said. "It delayed it for a long time. It was many months before Khalis found the next ingredient."


    "What was happening to you during that time?" Prism asked.


    Ghayle raised her hand to Prism''s face again and said, "Let me show you."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 6: The Chosen

    Nightmares plagued every moment of Ghayle''s existence as she lay splayed across the stone. She''d lost track of time, but still experienced every second of her children''s lives. Darkness encroached upon the world with each passing second, the slow degradation of society corrupting the lifeforce of every being.


    Over the course of her reign as the avatar of the world, this corruption began time and time again, but each time her children had fought against it, coming together in times of crisis and working harmoniously to create times of peace.


    But slowly the weight of conflict gathered momentum, increasing exponentially as society turned on itself, cannibalizing its virtue and spreading its filth like paint on a canvas. Only fools exploited their resources to extinction. Only fools bit the hand which fed them. Only fools seemed to exist.


    She felt the aching of the world as surely as she felt the life upon it. Every bomb dropped on the tundra of the Dobrag by Ultaka scarred her, and the radiation burned her flesh. Every time Oligan tested their new device, a magnetic field which could destabilize the molecular connections in solid rock and rip mountains to shreds, she felt the world quake in pain.


    Minor disputes erupted in other nations, and though these affected her less than the great weapons of the two most powerful nations, nearly every community sparked with conflict. Less powerful bombs scarred the warring states of Lodan in their civil war. Inhabitants of the Incarian sub-continent had destroyed most of their frozen forests to fuel their fires and build their mighty fortresses.


    The corruption had even seeped into the Gor tribes, too busy warring with each other to care about the damage done to the forests and plains they inhabited. A new war tactic had led to devastating deforestation and near annihilation of the brushland as the Gor burned their enemies out of their homes.


    Only the Elroks seemed to leave the world largely alone, though the government of Ultaka had lured some to work in the massive strip mines north of the Dorram. Others worked for Oligan in their deep and explosive mines, seeking the rare magnetic materials that fueled the Oligani weapons.


    Over time, Ghayle had grown used to the pains of the world. Scars came with the territory of being a planet, even from the creatures living on it. Growing pains occurred regularly in the form of earthquakes, weather patterns, and solar winds. Life consumed life. She understood it as surely as the spider ate the fly, and the cat ate the mouse, and the deer ate the grass. This was the way of things, and all creatures had the right to fight for their survival.


    But the builder races¡ªthose who constructed societies and technology¡ªhad grown complacent in their stewardship of the world. They no longer cared about the extent of the damage they caused. What happened to the spider when all the flies were gone? Would they perish along with their food source? Ghayle worried for them all, for they failed to see the downward spiral leading them all to destruction.


    They thought only of the squabbles they fought amongst themselves, the corruption of dogmas and ideologies preventing them from recognizing their displacement of the web of life. And the problem grew worse by the day.


    The stone beneath her kept her grounded, but the stake through her heart continued to throb in time with the heart of the world, feeling every single wound committed by one child against another. She''d long grown numb to the stings of hunters piercing the hearts of prey, but the extent of needless slaughter, masses dying in the face of political protest and on the front lines of war nagged at her, feeding her nightmares with every breath she drew.


    She screamed when Janlynd killed herself, the first sound she''d uttered since Tagren staked her to the rock. Tagren took note of it, of course, moving to her side from his constant vigil on a nearby boulder. He spoke to her, even though she could not respond.


    "Is everything all right?" he asked. He''d asked the same a thousand times in the months since she''d last spoken to him. She heard every single one, felt the sorrow in his heart, but she did not speak. Words could not describe the way she felt, and so she did not respond. He could not understand her pain.


    "I heard the scream, is she doing any better?" Ibrix asked. He''d been the first Chosen to arrive on the mountainside. A massive man, nearly as tall as an Elrok, the Shadowmen of Incaria still referred to him in myth as Hundrog, which meant Firebeard in their tongue. He''d been a friend and companion to Ghayle during Naxthul''s Trial, now thousands of years in the past.


    A lithe Fedain joined his side, her thin gown blowing in the chilly mountain wind. Aika''s beauty remained renowned in the poems of Fedain bards, though only the Gor in the northern woodlands ever saw her now. Her constant companion followed her, the large hunting cat with whom she''d shared her essence before joining the Chosen. Fedain had been much more plentiful before the previous demonic invasion, almost to the present human population, but their numbers were now in decline. Aika considered this a personal failure, thinking herself to blame for the Fedain''s unwillingness to procreate. Ghayle didn''t see why. The Fedain hadn''t listened to anyone but their own arrogance in centuries.


    "When I checked on her last night, I thought I heard her whimpering," Aika said softly. "She must be in agony."


    "I wish I knew how to help her," Tagren said. "But Khalis said we had to wait."


    "How long? He''s been gone for months. You called us as soon as he left, didn''t you?" another voice said. This one belonged to a short Gor, her eyes like glittering sapphires and her hair a vibrant gold. Despite being the same race as her, Ghayle had never quite seen eye-to-eye with Quay. Gor cults still revered the youthful-appearing alchemist, harvesting poisonous creatures in their natural environment to use them against their enemies in her name. Ghayle didn''t fault them for that, yet that same destructive mentality had fanned the fires of deforestation.


    "All Sendar are cryptic. That''s probably why they died out. Couldn''t figure out how to have sex because of too many riddles," a gravelly voice answered, as wise Goden joined his fellow Chosen at Ghayle''s side. His twin brother, Nobak, followed after him. The two Elroks had just arrived, coming from the distant mountains of Oligan and Lodan. Goden carried his massive bow, designed to function as both a club or bayonet, as the situation required. Despite his wise nature, Elrok tradition considered him a demon¡ªThe Breathstealer.


    Nobak, on the other hand, dressed in Elrok shamanic garb, adorned with shards of bone across his knuckles, chest, and back. He was known as the Bloodless, and revered as a warrior, though in all his peaceful years he''d never killed a soul aside from the demons unleashed by Naxthul in the Trial.


    "Never negotiate with a Sendar," Nobak said, laughing at his joke even before he finished it. "They will keep you guessing long enough to steal the advantage."


    "I resent the way you malign Lord Khalis, Nobak," Tagren said, his eyes narrowing. "And you both insult a proud race who fought valiantly in the Trial."


    "Apologies, noble Tagren," Goden replied. "The Sendar and the Elroks never had the best of relations. Though it is a shame all the Sendar who remained died in the Trial. For all their faults, they died like warriors."


    "They shouldn''t have created the golems in the first place," Nobak said. "They may have realized their mistake and fought the demons with us, but they triggered the Trial, and deserved their fate."


    "We''ve been having this argument for millennia," Aika said. "It''s irrelevant now. Naxthul performed his duties as Ghayle does now. The whole world is in peril, and so it must be purified. All our peoples were at fault, just as they are now. The problems have achieved critical mass, and if we don''t stop them at the source, everything we''ve built will be destroyed."


    "As usual, Aika speaks wisdom," Ibrix said. "We should not fight amongst ourselves. Our task is to wait until Khalis returns, and wait we shall."


    "What about the others? Are they going to arrive?" Quay asked. "Or are we the only ones coming? Have even the Chosen succumbed to the corruption?"


    "Perhaps," Tagren said. "I can feel them still, as I''m sure Ghayle can, but they are distant. Perhaps they resisted the call because they remain hopeful they can stem the tide and prevent the Trial from resuming?"


    "That is a fool''s cause," Goden said. "What a terrible waste of time. We should''ve done this a century ago."


    "Ghayle still believed there was hope then," Tagren said. "I wanted to believe there was hope now, yet I followed her here, and drove the stake through her heart at her command. The other Chosen should accept that as we have."


    Ghayle loved him more than ever, but she could only listen. This, too, was something she could not communicate from the depths of her agonizing darkness. Conversation drifted on without her, fading into time as she succumbed to the aftermath of Janlynd''s sacrifice.


    A riot surged in Kobinaru, and the ripples of unrest permeated every corner of the Ultakan Kingdom. As the humans rallied behind their unlikely Fedain martyr, the nobility answered with dignity, admitting some of their faults and negotiating the lessening of some restrictions.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Conditions improved, for a time, but it wouldn''t last. Corruption had spread too far, and unless the hearts of the people changed permanently, it would only stall the inevitable.


    Even as Ghayle contemplated this, in her feverish nightmare world, she sensed a presence moving toward her position. Of all the beings currently living on the world, only one evaded her ability to read its thoughts and emotions. Khalis, the First demon, the herald of all to come, had returned at last.


    She managed to deafen the darkness in her mind and listen to her friends, who once again met on the mountainside, keeping Tagren company. "Good, you''ve gathered together," Khalis said, as he landed near Ghayle''s head. He''d arrived in the form of a giant eagle but shifted to his more familiar Sendar form as he addressed the group.


    "Words flutter like wings," Nobak said, indicating he''d just been speaking about Khalis. "Have you come to complete the ritual?"


    Khalis shook his head as he lifted a small blood-filled vial in his hand. He''d kept it contained within his morphic body as he traveled. "No, but I''ve brought a piece of it."


    "A piece? Only one?" Quay asked, groaning. "How long is this going to take?"


    "Will you shut up, Quay?" Aika said, stroking the head of her cat as both stepped between Quay and Khalis. "We don''t know how long it took Khalis and Naxthul when they opened the gate. I believe he knows better than us how much patience is required."


    "It''s immeasurable. The patience is equal to Ghayle''s pain." Tagren said, studying Ghayle''s face for a moment before turning to Khalis.


    "Indeed, Tagren," Khalis said, approaching Tagren and putting a consolatory hand on his shoulder. "I see you''re doing your best to adjust to your role as First."


    "Every day is a trial," Tagren said, his eyes drifting back to Ghayle. "For both of us."


    "This takes time. Until every purity has been obtained, there remains hope the Trial may be averted, though only the smallest sliver. Avoidance of fate is as unlikely as an ant stopping a rockslide," Khalis said.


    "Riddles!" Goden spat, gesturing to Khalis angrily. "See? The God of the Sendar clearly shows us why his entire race never made any sense."


    "Quiet, you old boulder," Ibrix said. "As if an Elrok knows anything about making sense."


    "No wonder the world is in the state it is, even her protectors are at each other''s throats." Tagren growled at the other Chosen, a guttural sound which echoed off the nearby rock with enough primal fury to give Aika''s cat pause. "Can we please agree to work together?"


    "Yes." Aika said, glowering at Ibrix, while her cat stared down Goden. "We can."


    Ibrix muttered an apology while Goden''s eyes narrowed, yet he shrugged and sat, seeming to fade into the boulders next to him. Tagren shook his head helplessly before addressing Khalis once again. "Now, Lord Khalis, you''ve brought one of the purities?"


    "The blood of a martyr. A pure destructive force," Khalis said, placing the vial in Tagren''s hand. "Keep this safe until the other purities have been acquired."


    "How long will that be?" Tagren asked.


    "How long until the world slips again, and a powerful mortal seeks to restore it with purity?" Khalis asked. "How long until someone seeks purity in the face of corruption? The womb is filled with the hope of the world, the pure lifeforce of those who seek to change it for the better. Sacrifices will be made by those with the will to change it, and I will harness the purity of their sacrifice."


    "Can we not help you search?" Aika asked. "Must we only wait?"


    "Only if I fail, then will the task be passed onto Tagren. If he fails, the task will pass onto one of you," Khalis replied. "Until all the Chosen fall, there remains hope for the Trial."


    "Then get out there. You''re wasting time," Quay said.


    Khalis bowed to her and took to the air, shifting back into the form of an eagle as he ascended. Though his Sendar wings could carry him aloft, the eagle''s form allowed him greater speed and agility, to attend to his task as diligently as possible.


    Ghayle wanted to agree with Quay but couldn''t deny the truth. Release would not come soon. It could be months, possibly even years, until Khalis returned again. Each man and woman standing near her knew the curse and responsibility of immortality, yet they''d forgotten patience. Corruption had tainted even the Chosen, though less so.


    "He''s as pompous as ever," Nobak grunted.


    "I found him refreshing," Aika said.


    "You''ve always appreciated riddles," Ibrix said, smiling at her, though it quickly turned into a scowl as he added, "I, for one, tire of this game. I''m going to go hunt something."


    Aika patted her cat''s head and smiled at him. "I think I''ll join you. Unless Tagren needs company."


    "We''ll keep him occupied. We brought up some mountain-berry wine this morning. It''s perfect for when you want to sleep like a boulder," Nobak said, clapping Tagren hard on the shoulder.


    "I don''t believe Tagren has slept since he got here," Quay observed. "Could you, if your love lay splayed across the rock?"


    Before Tagren could answer, Goden spoke for him, his gravelly words rumbling across the rocks with the weight of experience. "She is. We would all do well to remember that. We all love Ghayle, that''s why we answered her call. That''s why we''re here, to see this through and trust her judgment. We all love this world, and she is the world."


    "Thank you, Goden," Tagren said, nodding in appreciation to his old friend.


    "They all know," Goden said, waving to the rest of the Chosen. Even Ibrix, his old rival, regarded him with respect as he continued. "For all our faults and misgivings about the state of things, we worked together during Naxthul''s Trial, and we are together now for Ghayle''s Trial. Forget old rivalries, my friends. I may be an old boulder," he met Ibrix''s eyes and grinned, "but I''ve the patience of a mountain, and I forgive any past slights you''ve committed against me and ask for your forgiveness of any I''ve committed against you. If purity will eventually heal the world, we must be pure in our hearts as well."


    "I can drink to that," Ibrix said. "Got enough of that wine for six?"


    "I brought enough for six hundred," Nobak replied.


    "An exaggeration. Six hundred could only share it if they sipped, but sixty could all have a cup or three," Goden replied, patting his brother on the back.


    "Then pass it around my stony brothers," Ibrix said, returning to what had become his favorite boulder to sit on during their wait. "It''s been a long time since we''ve gotten Quay drunk."


    "If you think you''re going to sleep with me again . . ." Quay said, narrowing her eyes.


    Ibrix laughed and replied, "As I recall, that was when you got me drunk."


    "My memory is a bit foggy. Perhaps the wine will clear it," Quay said, coughing.


    "That''s not how wine works," Nobak said. "Speaking of which, I better go get it. I left it at base camp. I''ll be back in a few minutes."


    "Don''t tell a chemist how wine works. It only encourages her to drug you," Aika said, stalling Nobak long enough for him to laugh his way back down the mountain.


    "I''ve never raped you, Aika," Quay said. "Why do you look so upset?"


    "You didn''t rape me, but you slept with my lover while I was out," Aika replied, pouting.


    Quay crossed her arms over her chest. "She wanted it! And you can''t blame me. You kept trying to make it a threesome when we wanted privacy!"


    An argument broke out and for the first time in months, Tagren smiled with sincerity. But his gaze drifted back to Ghayle within moments, and he stepped toward her, kneeling beside her face to stroke her cheek.


    "It''s just like old times, isn''t it Ghayle?" Tagren whispered.


    And it was like old times. Like thousands of years before, when a small few had to rise to prove the strength of the races and prevent them from extinction. When the world broke under the weight of corruption and the Trial began.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism shook from the weight of the vision. Pain and suffering in Ghayle''s heart rippled through him from his core to his extremities. But she''d only given him a fraction of it all. "I get the impression you held back and didn''t let me feel everything," he said when he regained the ability to speak.


    "Even in your current state, you would''ve been a blubbering mess on the ground. The only way one can handle the amount of pain I felt at that time is with millennia of experience at feeling the weight of the world," Ghayle said, "I''m afraid you''re likely destined to a role like Tagren''s, to patiently await the end of all."


    "So, does that mean you believe Grim will be the one who succeeds?" Prism asked. "Will I have to watch him suffer for months or years without being able to do anything?"


    "Just because Tagren and I were lovers does not mean all avatars and firsts have been lovers. Though Naxthul considered Khalis his soulmate as well, so I suppose it''s a common enough connection," Ghayle replied.  "It could be any of the potential Chosen. You considered Neredos your brother, Veil your sister. There''s two in the Elrhanadan line, and though neither were as close to you as the others, you certainly hold loyalty in your heart for both. Not to mention Styx and Maxthane . . ." Ghayle shrugged and added. "The one who finishes it may not even be born yet, at the rate things are going."


    "I''d not thought Styx, Maxthane, or Kirra to be qualified," Prism said.


    "Why not? The demons are still active, and those boys'' hearts are as pure as any. Even Alsha could fulfill that role, if the fates align in that way," Ghayle said with a smile. "As I recall, you''re fond of her as well."


    Prism sighed. "If I''d been born with different attractions, I could''ve seen myself with her in the long run. Her loyalty is certainly appealing and resonates with my own. Though as it stands, she''s not much more than an acquaintance, is she?"


    "You mean you''re not particularly connected to her?" Ghayle said. "Trust me, you''ll get to know all the Chosen over the millennia you''ll spend together. Some will become closer, others may become rivals, but with your loyalty, whoever takes my place will be someone you''ll be honored to serve."


    "I''m not particularly connected to Maxthane, either," Prism said. "Is his heart really so pure? Although I saw potential in him, is he not his father''s son?"


    Ghayle chuckled softly and said, "Oh? Considering his mother and his uncle, I''d think you''d feel differently."


    "Who are . . .?" Prism paused as he worked through the logic. Ghayle had mentioned two people for a reason. Only one sibling pair had a place of prominence in his mind. "Mother and uncle . . . he''s Veil''s son?" He asked in surprise.


    "Indeed," Ghayle said.


    "So, despite all the living warriors from our age, until the Trial is complete, any could end up taking your place," Prism said.


    "Yes, though I have my favorites," Ghayle replied.


    "Care to share?"


    Ghayle shook her head. "It would not be proper. Though my heart may pull me in one way, I have no control over destiny, and it may be any of them. Speculating in silence is one thing, but I''m not one for gambling."


    "What about those who showed their strength beforehand?" Prism asked. "What about Janlynd? Could she have been Chosen?"


    "I never said she wasn''t," Ghayle said. "There were others, as well, who have earned the right to protect the world. But only in the last days of the Trial are potential avatars made."


    "So, she''s here somewhere?" Prism asked. Ghayle remained silent, which Prism took as confirmation. "May I see her?"


    Ghayle shook her head. "Not now. Not until you know all that you must know. Shall we resume your education?"


    "May I guide it?" Prism asked.


    "I suppose we have time for that," Ghayle said. "Where would you like to go?"


    "Show me Master Vinh. I could use some of his eccentricity right now," Prism replied with a wide grin.


    Ghayle put her hand on Prism''s face and pulled him into memory once again. "Done."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 7: The Apple Tree

    Prism jumped from one wooden pillar to another. As they increased in height they also increased in distance from each other, and he''d yet to make it to the highest pillar. He reached the second highest, scrambling on the edge to keep his momentum before leaping toward the highest pillar with all the strength of his legs.


    He collided with the side of it, his fingers stretching for the top edge of the pillar, but they came up empty and he slid to the ground, once again defeated by the long jump. Seven months of training, and he still couldn''t make that jump. He spent five hours a day in physical training, two before breakfast, two before dinner, and an hour before bed. The last he added to his schedule of his own free will, driven to master the techniques his master showed him.


    Still the final jump eluded him. Still he collapsed to the ground defeated every time. He let gravity win and slumped against the base of the pillar, catching his breath as he went over the jump in his mind, wondering how he could cover the last stretch of distance. A form darted through the air above him, and the pillar vibrated as someone landed atop it.


    "Your left foot slipped. Again," said Master Vinhkroludar from above him. Prism looked up from his slump to see the shaved master with his prominently pointed ears, fierce blue-green eyes staring at him, an apple in his hand. He took a bite and a small drop of juice fell from his mouth and landed on Prism''s forehead.


    Prism wiped the juice with the back of his hand, blending it with the sweat which covered every inch of his face. "How come you''s gets to eat when it''s not mealtime?" He asked as he stood and stared at the master accusingly.


    "I''ll forgive you for abusing our mutual tongue again, just because you''re dazed from the fall," Master Vinh said, taking another bite of his apple as he crouched on the pillar''s flat top.


    Prism sighed. After seven months, he''d picked up the speech patterns of the other monks, but his native dialect sometimes took over, especially during moments of distress. He bowed out of respect to Master Vinh and said, "I''m sorry. How come you get to eat when it''s not mealtime?"


    "I can reach the apples," Master Vinh said, pointing to the apple tree beside them. The only tree in the Eastern grounds, it had sprung up in a seemingly random location, yet the monks cared for it as if it belonged there. This species of apple had no low-hanging branches, though several branches extended out toward the wooden pillars, thick and full with fruit. Prism assumed Master Vinh had snatched one while vaulting toward the final pillar.


    As if to drive the point home, Master Vinh took another bite and said, "Speaking of reaching high places, it''s time to get up and try again."


    "Try again? I missed it completely!" Prism protested. "This is impossible!"


    "Impossible? Am I not standing here as proof?" Master Vinh asked, extending his hands dramatically. "Try again, Prism. I''ll give you an apple if you get it right." Another taunting bite followed the statement, and Master Vinh''s smirk set Prism''s blood boiling.


    "One apple?" Prism asked, barely managing to contain his anger behind his frown. "That''s it?"


    "You''ve become so demanding since you turned sixteen. A typical youth if I ever saw one," Master Vinh said. Another bite, another smirk. "Accomplishing the task should be reward enough."


    Prism gritted his teeth and balled his fists. He hated it when Master Vinh taunted him. But the desire to wipe the smirk off Vinh''s face was enough to drive Prism back toward the lowest pillar. "Fine. I''ll try again," he said as he backed up, preparing to run and jump.


    He sprinted toward the pillar, jumping as he neared it. Using the jumping technique Master Vinh taught him, he kept the momentum going as he landed, immediately vaulting off the first pillar to the second, clearing distance and height to land atop the next pillar. He repeated this process for the next three pillars until he reached the second to last, shouting to summon all the strength to his core as he vaulted toward the last pillar again.


    His fingers hit the pillar an inch below the edge, and he slid back down to the ground, this time rolling backward when he landed and coming up standing.


    When he looked back up at the pillar, Master Vinh was crouched again, chewing on another bite. He swallowed it and said, "Oh, now that was close." Extending the almost-finished apple core toward Prism, he added, "Want a bite?"


    "You''s are infuriating!" Prism said, glowering at Master Vinh. An apple core nearly collided with Prism''s face a moment later, but he managed to deflect it to the side. "What was that for?"


    "I forgave you for saying ''you''s'' once today. You get only one free use of the word," Master Vinh said, "but you''re welcome to what''s left around the core."


    Prism glanced at the apple core, now bruised and dirty near the base of the second pillar. "It''s covered in dirt."


    "Seems that''s all the apple you''re going to get," Master Vinh said. "You could have that one or any which fall to the ground if you want."


    "You shouldn''t waste food, Master Vinh," Prism scolded. Despite the disrespect to his mentor, his frustration had reached its limit, and he no longer cared if he faced repercussions.


    Master Vinh smiled. "You shouldn''t speak to a Master that way."


    "Even one as arrogant as you?" Prism replied without hesitation.


    "It''s not arrogance when one has earned their position," Master Vinh said. He stood tall on the pillar, assuming the one-footed heron stance. "Maybe you should come up here and speak to me on even footing?" Master Vinh asked.


    Prism considered delivering a flying kick to the pillar to knock the master down. Sighing, he indulged his mentor''s lesson one more time. He prepared for another ascent, bounding up the pillars as before, until his fingers reached the edge but not high enough for him to grip it.


    "Oh, that was so close!" Master Vinh said excitedly, clapping. "You almost had me there. Let me give you a hint. The apple was only wasted if you fail to learn the lesson."


    Prism raised an eyebrow to complement his glare at the master. He walked back toward the first pillar, considering the point for a moment. When he turned to face the series of pillars he contemplated them all at once. Until this point, he''d treated the pillars as individual steps along the way, instead of considering it as one process.


    Studying it now, he noticed a lower branch of the apple tree extended far enough to almost come between the last two pillars. He''d never connected it to the process until now, but Master Vinh hadn''t mentioned the apple without reason.


    He sprinted again, bounding up the first pillars with precision. As he reached the second to last, he adjusted his angle and jumped for the lower branch of the apple tree. His months of precision jumping allowed him to land perfectly on the branch, and he used the spring of it to launch him to a higher branch, which he caught with his arms and used its suspension to cancel his momentum. He snagged an apple and slid down the trunk to the ground.


    "Splendid! Well done!" Master Vinh said, clapping. He dived from the pillar into a forward roll, absorbing the impact of his fall as he sprang to his feet.


    Prism bit into the apple and swallowed the first scrumptious bite. "The goal was the apple all along," he said, brandishing the fruit at Master Vinh.


    Master Vinh grinned and pointed at the pillars while Prism ate his well-deserved reward. "Do you want to know a secret, Prism?"


    "Please, tell me what I was doing wrong," Prism said between bites.


    "I move the pillar an inch every day after you almost catch the edge," Master Vinh explained. "I''ve moved it twenty-three times since we first started seven months ago. If I''d left it where it was your first time, you''d have jumped over it by now."


    Prism shook his head, annoyed. "Why?"


    "You don''t understand?" Master Vinh said, his grin disappearing. "Then I should''ve left it there for all the good it''s done."


    Prism stopped to consider the point, trying to find the wisdom in the apple. "The goal wasn''t the apple, the goal was to make the attempt no matter how difficult the task."


    "Why?" Master Vinh asked, his eyes lighting up.


    "Because you told me to?" Prism said hopefully.


    "You went through all that because I told you to?" Master Vinh asked, chuckling.


    "No . . ." Prism said, grinning, "I did it to wipe that smirk off your face."


    "Good enough," Master Vinh said, sighing. "At least you had a personal motivation."


    "And, I can reach the apples," Prism said, brandishing the apple again before taking another bite.


    Master Vinh nodded. "Indeed. Once you''ve finished that one, fetch me five, if you don''t mind."


    Despite Master Vinh''s choice of words, Prism heard the command behind them. It didn''t matter one bit whether he minded or not, if he didn''t fetch five apples, the following lesson would be far more taxing.


    So he finished the apple quickly, then bounded back up the pillars, easily making it into the tree once again. He snagged five apples tucking them into his robes before descending the trunk.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    He handed all five to Master Vinh and asked, "What are you going to do with these?"


    "Juggle," Master Vinh said, tossing the apples into the air one by one and keeping them circulating with ease. He didn''t even have to watch them as he returned his attention to Prism. "Do you know why I came to Ultaka, Prism?"


    "No. You''ve never told me. Have I earned the privilege of knowing?" Prism asked.


    Master Vinh smiled as acknowledgement. "One day, a brave human ventured onto the northern Dobrag tundra. He wanted to open trade with the Gor tribes and the Elroks in the south mountains. He wasn''t a merchant himself, just worked for one."


    "And the Gor caught him, chopped him to bits, and cooked him with apples?" Prism suggested, hoping to disrupt Master Vinh''s concentration.


    "Please, the Southern Gor tribes are nothing like the Northern ones," Master Vinh replied, catching the apples. "You have too violent an imagination, Prism." He rolled his eyes and resumed juggling all five apples. "Gor don''t eat humans. If we did, I would''ve eaten you seven months ago to save me the trouble of training you."


    Prism chuckled fondly, and bowed out of respect before asking, "Okay, so what happened?"


    "That human had a thirst for adventure, a rare thing in this age. No one cares about exploring anymore, because the world is already so connected. We have newscasts and an amazing public transit system. Wireless communication took hold two decades ago, and now people can even see each other on their broadcast screens as they talk to each other. People can see the world without even leaving their homes, and when they do they stay within the lines." Master Vinh met Prism''s gaze and held it for a pregnant pause. "Few people choose to step outside that box. No one explores, no one juggles."


    "I don''t see the connection," Prism admitted.


    "No?" Master Vinh said. "Well, let me explain. That man, Colthan Dreggor, wasn''t a merchant, as I said. He wasn''t interested in monetary gain, he just wanted to see life in the Dobrag. He took a job with an enterprising businessman who wanted to establish trade routes, and even with only a base understanding of the Gor tongue he bravely entered our territory." For the first time since they began training together, Master Vinh''s eyes grew wistful, and sadness added a subtle quiver to his voice. "The Gor took Colthan captive, stripping him of anything he could use as a weapon until they could determine what to do with him. They kept him confined in a cabin but allowed him food. A youth was assigned to bring him food."


    "You?" Prism asked.


    "Me," Master Vinh confirmed. "Colthan had a thing for ice peaches. I wasn''t supposed to bring him fruit, but he liked them so much, I sneaked him a peach on occasion. He collected the pits, and as soon as he had two he''d juggle them for me."


    "Was he any good at it?"


    Master Vinh smiled fondly and said, "Not at first. In fact, he was so bad he dropped them nearly every other toss." He laughed heartily, pausing his juggling until he recovered. He juggled two apples with one hand as he continued, adding the others back in with each sentence. "But I brought him a few more peaches, and he added a few more pits. He''d juggle them for me, trying out new patterns and trying to get me to juggle them back with him. We''d practice every day, and we both improved until every single toss was perfect."


    "And juggling eventually bought him his freedom? He impressed the chief who let him go because he was amusing?" Prism surmised.


    "It bought his freedom, but not in that way," Master Vinh replied. "No, one day I came to deliver his meal and found Colthan''s guard lying next to an open cell door." He shook his head, sighing helplessly. "Welts covered the guard''s face and throat, and six peach pits lay scattered across the floor. Colthan escaped, but not back to human lands. He made his way to a neighboring tribe and charmed his way into their graces using all the Gor he''d learned from me. He''s an old man now, but he still lives in the Dobrag, and is good friends with my tribe."


    Prism considered the story for a moment, but he couldn''t make sense of Master Vinh''s line of thinking. "I don''t see the point," he admitted.


    Master Vinh''s eyes narrowed, and five apples came hurtling toward Prism''s face and chest. Prism deflected the first four with practiced movements from his daily training. He caught the fifth and took a bite, smugly regarding Master Vinh.


    "Good, your reflexes have sharpened, and your instincts are strong as ever. You knew I''d throw the apples at you. It''s the only way you could''ve matched my speed," Master Vinh said with approval.


    Prism swallowed a second bite and shrugged. "I still don''t understand."


    Master Vinh continued. "Colthan explored the world, testing the limits of his existence. When his world became a one-room cell, he continued to test those limits. He explored his options, made peace with someone who could help him, and used what tools he had to escape into the larger world." He stooped to retrieve the four uneaten apples and assumed another circular pattern with them. "Juggling, Prism, is about keeping everything in motion, and establishing a rhythm, but the excitement comes when you break the pattern and do something no one expected." He changed the order of the apples, throwing two up at once in the middle, then two on the side, switching between the two columns and creating a wave pattern. "That''s how you improve."


    Prism smiled, sure he understood it now. "When you can''t reach the next step, you change your approach. You jump for the apple tree instead of the post," he said.


    "You jump for the apple tree instead of the post," Master Vinh agreed. "Now, you''ve got some options ahead of you, some choices to make. You''re stuck with the Order for the next nineteen years and an odd number of months. You''re going to be training every day, essentially living the monk''s life. After your first year, you may be able to earn probation, and be allowed to leave the Temple grounds, but for nearly twenty years you won''t be able to live your life as fully your own."


    "What are you getting at?"


    "You still have options. You can join the Order and become a full monk, swearing the proper oaths and committing yourself to the world," Master Vinh replied.


    "Giving up sex, even physical contact with others outside of my monk duties?" Prism asked. He''d given thought to this option before. Considering how much he''d learned so far, he believed he could find happiness with that life. But he hadn''t determined anything yet.


    "That''s one side of it. We strive to improve, to become as mighty as a mountain, rooted firmly in discipline as we stand steadfast in defense of the world. That means sacrificing certain things," Master Vinh replied. "But again, it is not the only path. As a pardon, you may also swear to live as a monk for the duration of your sentence, with the understanding that once your sentence ends you are free to live in whatsoever manner you choose."


    "What advantage does that afford me? I''ll be too old to make much good of my life," Prism said. This had remained his primary concern about completing his sentence altogether. His mother died at an earlier age than he would be when he finished his time. Tobrig had only made it to thirty-one.


    "If you think that, I have a lot to teach you. You are never too old to begin living your life. Have you forgotten the apple tree already?" Master Vinh said. "Despite that lesson, committing to the monk''s life during your sentence can afford you the opportunity to renegotiate your sentence, and it could possibly be reduced by as much as half."


    "Why are you only telling me this now?" Prism asked.


    "These options are not available to you until you complete your first year. You can still choose neither option, if both are unsettling to you," Master Vinh said with a shrug. "Kaeral has made it clear he has no intention of living as a monk, and once he earns probation I''m sure he''ll adopt his old habits. I already know you cover for him when he sneaks out at night."


    Prism started, his eyes wide as he took an involuntary step backward. "You know about that?"


    "As does Grandmaster Valkean," Master Vinh said, chuckling. "We know he slithers through the crack in the garden wall and has been since he came to us. We witnessed it last night and have witnessed it several times before. What we don''t know is why he keeps coming back, and that is far more intriguing to us than confronting him."


    Prism saw little reason not to cooperate now. "I honestly don''t know."


    "I have a theory. I believe he''s coming back because, like you, he craves discipline and order in his life. In Gor, the concepts of discipline, order, stillness . . . they''re all summed up in a single word. We call it Nar. It''s intrinsic to every Gor, we crave it like mother''s milk. The opposite force, Chen, the concept of movement, chaos, and instinct, is just as powerful, and drives us in other ways. Kaeral has lived his entire life following Chen, and only now has he had a true taste of Nar," Master Vinh explained. "I believe you''ve done the same. As I sought Chen when I left my people, following Colthan''s example."


    "And you''ll let him keep sneaking out?" Prism asked.


    "He keeps sneaking out like you kept leaping for the pillar," Master Vinh replied. "He keeps coming back because it''s the apple tree. Here we''re more concerned with the development of his soul than strict adherence to the rules and regulations."


    Prism scoffed. "Though you drill those into my skull anyway."


    "Of course," Master Vinh said. "You crave Nar, after all." He gave Prism a wide smile and went on, "You have options, Prism. It''s not only three. You could do a thousand different things. A million. Every avenue is open to you, if you''ve the will to pursue it."


    "Every avenue?" Prism asked. "What if they keep moving the post? Ah! I get it!"


    He dropped the apple, turning back to the pillars. He rushed into the sequence again, taking him into the tree. As he reached the lower branch and launched himself to the one above, he swung upward and around it, landing on the higher branch. From there it was an easy jump to the highest pillar.


    Perched atop it, he could see over the wall, Kobinaru glittering on the ocean shore in the distance. The longing he''d buried for the past seven months returned to him, for a boy who''d saved him without question, and who''d set him on this path in the first place.


    "Not every path is straight." Master Vinh said, patting the base of the pillar. "Enjoy your apples, Prism."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    When Prism returned to the monks'' quarters, Kaeral''s door was cracked open, signaling to Prism that Kaeral intended to sneak out again. He''d escaped the temple with greater frequency as the months had worn on, though Prism had no idea why.


    Kaeral never spoke of his adventures outside the temple, and Prism had never asked. Though he once considered information as good as currency, Kaeral was his one and only friend, and he didn''t want to risk that friendship by invading Kaeral''s privacy.


    He also enjoyed helping his friend whenever he could, so he crept down the hall and into Kaeral''s room, finding the young Gor sitting by the window and staring into the twilight sky.


    "You spent all afternoon in that tree. What a crazy boy you are," Kaeral said in place of greeting. Prism appreciated the banter they shared. Kaeral teased him, out of friendship, not out of any desire to mock Prism''s ideals.


    This helped reinforce Prism''s courage to say, "I''m coming with you tonight."


    "What? How?" Kaeral asked, surprised but not angry. "You know you can''t fit through the crack."


    "I don''t have to. I can get over the wall," Prism said. "The apple tree will get me over for sure."


    Kaeral nodded. It made sense, considering the leaps Prism had made earlier that day. The apple tree didn''t quite reach to the wall, but it would be close enough. That didn''t fully solve the problem, however. "How will you get back in?" He asked.


    "I''ll figure that out when we get back," Prism said, shrugging as if it didn''t matter one bit.


    "Prism . . . breaking the rules," Kaeral said, sliding away from the window. He embraced Prism, ruffling Prism''s non-existent hair. "It''s been awhile. Welcome back! To what do I owe the pleasure of the young rogue''s company?"


    "I want to see someone," Prism offered.


    "Who?" Kaeral asked, grinning. "A girl?"


    "He lives in the palace," Prism said.


    "Grim? You''re joking," Kaeral said, groaning in frustration. Prism shrugged, not bothering to explain his intentions further. Since Master Jan died, only Kaeral knew of Prism''s attraction to the Duke''s son. It had taken several weeks of fishing to learn if Kaeral considered such attractions improper from his years living among humans.


    "Will you help me?" Prism asked.


    Kaeral stared at him for several seconds, grinned, and nodded, laughing helplessly. "Well, it isn''t going to happen tonight, that much is certain. We''ll have to plan it, and it''s risky. If we get caught, we''ll both have our sentences extended beyond our life spans."


    "But you can get me there?" Prism asked.


    With a flourish of a bow, Kaeral replied, "No one knows the streets of Kobinaru better than I do."


    "How do you get inside the city, anyway?" Prism asked.


    "I guess I''ll have to show you my secrets, eh?" Kaeral replied, clicking his tongue. "But can I trust Master Vinh''s star pupil?"


    Prism shrugged. His answer didn''t matter. Kaeral would decide whom he trusted regardless of any opinion Prism offered. Instead, Prism said, "I''m ready whenever you are."


    Kaeral nodded. "We''ll leave an hour after sunset, then we need to get down to the shore. That takes about a half hour if I sprint. I know you can run, but I bet you''ll add about five or ten minutes to our time, just because you''re unfamiliar with the terrain."


    "Then what?" Prism asked.


    "We strip and swim to the docks. They can''t see us in the water," Kaeral said. "You can swim, can''t you?"


    "Yes. We used to bathe in rivers back home. We were taught how to swim in case we went out too far and the current caught us."


    "Good. Ocean swimming is a bit different, but if you stick with me, we''ll be fine," Kaeral replied.


    "So we arrive naked in Kob, then what?" Prism asked.


    "Someone will meet us on a fishing ship with a red lantern," Kaeral said. She''ll probably only have extra clothes for one person, so we''ll have to figure it out from there, but I''m sure we can improvise. There are others on the boat, so we can borrow from a few people as needed. Once we get inside her home, there will be clothing for both of us."


    "Then you can get me to the palace?" Prism asked. Noting Kaeral''s resignation, he hastened to add, "for a stake-out, not to break in tonight."


    "Yes. We''ll catch a late streetcar," Kaeral said. "They run through the night, but at decreased frequency."


    Prism hugged his best friend and said, "Yes! Thank you, Kaeral."


    "Don''t thank me yet. We haven''t done any of it," Kaeral replied dryly.


    "No, but we will," Prism said. "I''m going to get those apples."


    "You''re so strange, Prism."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 8: Decisions

    Prism gasped for air as Kaeral gripped his bicep, pulling him from the tumultuous waves of the Ilivar Sea and helping him onto the buoy. Storm clouds overhead taunted them, though little pockets of moonlight filtered through now, allowing them some ability to see. Rain assaulting them during their swim had nearly brought them to a suffocating end.


    As Prism rested his back against the buoy, he wondered how they''d avoided drowning in the cold water. Not only had he swallowed more sea water than he''d thought possible, but hypothermia threatened to set in at any moment.


    "Are you still with me, Prism?" Kaeral asked, placing his hand on Prism''s shoulder. His skin numb from the cold, Prism could barely feel the contact at all.


    "Those waves are brutal. If you hadn''t been there, I would''ve drowned," Prism said.


    "I know. But you made it, right?" Kaeral said.


    "And I''d do it again, for the chance of seeing Grim," Prism replied. "Though it''s getting quite cold."


    "Give me just a moment," Kaeral said. "I can alleviate that a bit, provided you aren''t too squeamish. That nosebleed you gave me with your elbow will come in handy."


    Prism glanced sidelong at Kaeral, watching as the Gor placed his finger to his bloodied nose, using the blood to draw runes on the buoy in a circle large enough to fit two hands. He placed one hand palm down inside the circle and gestured for Prism to do the same.


    Heat thrummed from Prism''s palm and into his body, not enough to warm him completely, but enough to steady his temperature and still his shivering. He nodded appreciatively at Kaeral and said, "You know so many tricks, it''s a wonder you ever got caught."


    "They got lucky," Kaeral replied. "You can avoid capture a thousand times, but statistics eventually get the better of you. A complete idiot caught me, too. He got lost when trying to follow the false trail I left and happened to wander into my safehouse. He had a heat-rifle, and I had a knife and my ''tricks''. The heat-rifle won, because I''m not stupid."


    Prism chuckled softly and said, "Yeah, but you could still leave at any time. Why do you stay?"


    Kaeral smirked and looked away, changing the subject. "Once winter hits, we won''t be able to do this. It''ll be too cold, and the heat transference from the water beneath the buoy won''t be enough to keep us from freezing. But our first year will be up in the Spring, so we may be able to get probation. With that, getting into Kobinaru will be much easier."


    Prism nodded. He''d hoped make these trips regularly, but he could be patient, too. Some things were worth waiting for, after all. But he hoped the boat wouldn''t be one of them. "So, she''ll know to come to the buoy, right?" He asked.


    "Yes," Kaeral said. "If we miss the initial rendezvous, she always comes here. That''s her light there." He pointed across the waves to a red light moving toward them.


    "Good," Prism said.


    They waited in silence as the small fishing boat approached, four human sailors moved on the deck, two men and two women, all wearing thick but loose winter clothing, easy to shed in the event of falling in the water. One man stood on the portside as it came alongside the buoy, and he threw a rope to Kaeral, who caught it with his free hand.


    "Ho there! Castaways!" The man shouted as he worked with Kaeral to pull the boat closer to the buoy, allowing Prism to jump on board. Kaeral erased his runic circle and jumped aboard as well.


    Despite his nakedness, Kaeral embraced the bearded soldier warmly, and received an equally fond embrace in return. When they parted, they stared at each other for a moment, revealing to Prism the two silver rings in the sailor''s right ear. "You old sea dog, where''s Marhys?" Kaeral said. "I would''ve thought she''d be here to greet us."


    "She''s below deck. The cold was getting to ''er, what with ''er condition and all," the sailor replied. He nodded to Prism without taking his eyes off Kaeral. "Who''s your friend?"


    "He''s another pardon," Kaeral replied. "He''s a rogue, just like us. I vouch for him."


    "Good enough for me," the sailor said, then turned to Prism at last. He extended his hand in greeting. "Name''s Tala."


    "You''re from Incaria?" Prism said, clasping the man''s arm.


    The statement startled Tala, and he glanced at a grinning Kaeral in surprise. "That''s right. ''Ow''d you know? My accent?"


    "My mentor''s from the Dobrag Tundra," Prism replied. "He talks about his region and its neighbors often. I recognized the earrings. Are these women your two wives then?"


    "Ah, you''re a sharp one, aren''t ya?" Tala said, grinning wide. Turning his head, he showed Prism the single gold band there. "And the young man at the bow is ma son. Incarian fishermen work as a family, in all respects."


    Kaeral stepped between them, gathering Prism under his arm as he passed. "Come on, Prism, I need to introduce you to someone." He glanced back at Tala and said, "I hope you brought my clothes?"


    "Yep, though with''n the chill you shoulda use the blankets first," Tala said.


    "Can you clothe Prism, too?"


    "Aye, we''ll figure somethin'' fer yer boy," Tala said, nodding with his lips pursed in thought. "Got an extra blanket fer sure."


    "Thank you," Kaeral said, then led Prism into the ship''s hold. He stopped by a small cupboard, pulling out two thick, wool blankets and handing one to Prism before wrapping one around his body.


    "Here, wrap this around your shoulders. It should be warmer below deck, but we don''t want to put on any clothes until we''re completely dry," Kaeral explained.


    "Understood," Prism replied, complying with the instructions. Though itchy, the blanket immediately warmed him, measurably improving his condition by the time Kaeral led him into the cabin.


    The cabin consisted of little more than a cot and a small desk bolted to the bulkhead. A lit lantern hung from a hook on the wall. A young woman occupied the cot, laying on her back, displaying her distended belly. By Prism''s best estimation, she was well into her final months of pregnancy, and she did not look well. Dark lesions covered most of her visible skin, including her face and belly. Sweat matted her dark hair, and her labored breathing tugged at Prism''s heart. Kaeral affectionately smoothed back that hair and kissed her forehead, revealing her slightly-pointed ears.


    "Marhys, how are you feeling?" Kaeral asked.


    "Kae!" Marhys said with surprising energy. "You made it. When you didn''t make the rendezvous, I was afraid you''d drowned."


    "I had to pull this one out of the salt a few times," Kaeral said, waving Prism forward. "Marhys, I''d like you to meet Prism, my dear friend from the Temple."


    "I''ve heard a lot about you," Marhys said, extending her arm in greeting. "I''m sure you''ve heard nothing about me."


    Prism took her hand, amazed at how pale it appeared in the dim light, but found her grip surprisingly firm. "No, I haven''t."


    "Kae''s a private man. He loves to be mysterious," Marhys said, chuckling.


    "Are you . . ." Prism had several questions on his mind but couldn''t decide on one and let the sentence dwindle into nothing.


    "Pregnant?" Marhys asked, grinning at his confusion. "Yes. Despite the state of the world and our circumstances, we decided to have a child. We wanted to while we still had a chance."


    "We might be able to get a Fedain to heal you," Kaeral muttered.


    Marhys'' eyes could cut steel. "I told you, I don''t want them to touch me. I won''t betray the natural order. As a Gor, you shouldn''t, either."


    "You''re a Gor, too, aren''t you?" Prism asked.


    "Half. Half human, half Gor. My father was Tala''s brother," Marhys said.


    Prism nodded and addressed the other strange comment she''d made. "You don''t care for the Fedain?"


    "Do you?" Marhys scoffed. "They''ve oppressed humans for centuries¡ªthe better part of a thousand years, even. All they do is manipulate humans into worshipping them simply because they can heal their wounds. Why would you like them?"


    Kaeral patted Marhys'' arm and said, "He''s sweet on one."


    "Kaeral!" Prism hissed.


    Kaeral ignored Prism''s anger and said, "Lord Grim, to be precise."


    "Oh, well that''s different," Marhys conceded. "He''s a Fedain of the people. Duke Selfaeth isn''t so bad, either. He at least makes an effort, but that''s one family out of millions, and the rest can''t be bothered."


    "I didn''t bring you two together to have a political argument," Kaeral muttered.


    "We''ll behave," Prism said, smiling as he glanced at his friend, then returned his attention to Marhys. "What are you sick with?"


    "It''s an auto-immune disorder. My body is destroying itself," she explained.


    "You speak like you''ve had some schooling," Prism observed. "Compared to your uncle, anyway."


    Marhys laughed and replied, "Incaria may be remote, but not everyone avoids proper schooling. I was apprenticed to my town''s doctor until I decided to follow Tala up here. I wanted to get away after my father died. Two years ago, I met Kaeral, and couldn''t imagine leaving. Not until the baby is born, anyway."


    "But after?"


    "Gor often go on pilgrimage during the months after childbirth, to pay homage to Ghayle, the mother of the Gor people," Marhys explained. "It''s a spiritual matter, and since I became ill I''ve found religion to be more . . . pure than the secular life."


    "I''ve never heard of Ghayle," Prism said.


    Kaeral chuckled and interjected, "Most humans haven''t, in my experience."


    "Where would you find Ghayle?" Prism asked.


    "I don''t know," Marhys replied. "Possibly nowhere. I''m not sure she exists, but I have some faith. Legend says if you give into your primal instincts, you can follow them to her."


    "Then I wish you luck in finding her. What will happen with your child?" Prism asked.


    "Tala and his wife will take care of him while I''m gone. If I never make it back," Marhys paused, adjusting her hold on Kaeral''s hand to intertwine their fingers, "Kaeral will assume his parental role as soon as he''s freed from the Order."


    "Marhys, I''m afraid I won''t be spending most of my time with you tonight. Once we arrive in Kobinaru, I have to take Prism somewhere," Kaeral said.


    Marhys'' eyes narrowed. "You''re not going to steal anything, are you?"


    Kaeral chuckled and replied, "No, much as I''d love to find something nice for the baby''s nameday, I''ll keep my promise to you. Prism just wants to see where Grim lives. We''ll be careful, don''t worry."


    "You better be," Marhys said, then turned to Prism. "And take care of my love, will you? He doesn''t know how to be careful."


    "I will," Prism said.


    He remained silent for the rest of the trip to Kobinaru, observing the lovers and their soft, teasing banter. He''d never seen this side of Kaeral before and was honored to witness the love in his best friend''s eyes.


    He vowed to do everything in his power to ease the sadness which accompanied it.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Without warning, Ghayle directed the vision to Grim, and Prism let her take him where she wanted to go. He remembered this night well, though he''d welcome any window into how Grim had perceived it.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The palace life had chafed at Grim for the past few months. Ever since the riots following Master Janlynd''s death, Duke Selfaeth had kept his children practically under house arrest, never letting them leave without a significant escort. Grim hated confinement more than anything, and he needed some time to breathe.


    After his nightly session with Sharis, he slipped from his balcony, using a rope he''d concealed behind his headboard for opportunities like this. Shimmying down to the palace gardens, he encountered his next obstacle¡ªgetting past the palace wall.


    His usual approach wouldn''t work. He knew a place to scale the wall, but with the rain from earlier in the evening, he would find no purchase on the slick stone. As inconvenient as it was, rain offered other opportunities.


    Perimeter checks occurred with greater frequency during inclement weather, and several soldiers would take one of the palace trucks and drive around the outer wall every quarter hour.


    He cautiously approached the garage, waiting for an opportunity to sneak past the soldiers while their backs were turned to climb into the bed of the truck. He needed enough time to do it quietly, which required him to perch on the edge of the bed unnoticed long enough to lower himself lightly to the metal inside.


    It only took a few minutes before such an opportunity presented itself, the two soldiers stepping out, to smoke at the edge of the garage, before they began their next circuit. Grim slipped into the truck and hid under a pile of sodden branches. This truck doubled as a grounds-keeping vehicle, and the groundskeeper used it every morning as part of his autumnal pruning.


    The soldiers didn''t bother to check the bed before they drove off into the night. Grim breathed a sigh of relief when the truck passed through the large iron gate and it creaked shut after him. He was out now. One last trick remained.


    Grim waited for a particularly bumpy stretch of road and timed his vault over the edge of the truck bed with one of the bumps, using the jolt to mask the sound of his movement. He rolled to cancel his momentum, glad he retained at least some of his self-defense training.


    He hastened away from the palace, glancing over his shoulder as he headed straight toward an alley between a spice shop and an accountant''s office. The slapping of his footfalls on the wet cobblestones reduced his ability to hear the two people standing in the alleyway, otherwise he might''ve gone the other way and missed them.


    Instead, he nearly walked right into them, and found himself face to face with a Gor a few years his senior. Fear gripped him as he considered the Gor''s tattooed ears and violet eyes. Was this an assassin, like those the military warned about since the border conflicts with the Gor began a decade earlier?


    As he inched backward, a form stepped between them, throwing back his hood to reveal a familiar face, though his now-shaved head didn''t quite match the image frequenting Grim''s memories.


    "Prism?" Grim said, dumbfounded at his luck.


    "Grim?" Prism said excitedly.


    "What are you doing here?" They said together, then smiled and embraced as if old friends.


    Kaeral chuckled at the exchange and said, "Well . . . looks like my job is done."


    "Who are you?" Grim asked. "And what do you mean by ''job''?"


    Prism pulled Grim closer to Kaeral and said, "This is my friend, Kaeral. It would be in our best interest if you pretended you never saw either of us."


    "It would be in my best interest, too. No one can know I''m out here," Grim replied. "I don''t think I''d ever be allowed to leave again if my Father learned I sneaked out."


    "Then I think we should go somewhere private, so we don''t draw attention," Prism suggested.


    "Do you think you could make it back to Marhys'' place on your own?" Kaeral asked.


    As Prism nodded, Grim asked, "Where is it?"


    "Docks, Egtar street."


    "I''ll make sure he gets there," Grim said.


    Kaeral nodded his appreciation. "Thank you." He bowed to Prism and turned on his heel, sprinting toward a nearby intersection. A streetcar pulled up just as he reached the corner, and Kaeral climbed aboard, disappearing into the night.


    Grim shook his head, amazed by his luck but still concerned about the state of things. "By the blood, what are you doing here? Aren''t you supposed to be confined at the Temple?"


    "I came to see you, a-actually," Prism said, coughing to cover the stutter in his answer.


    "How''d you get out of the Temple?"


    Prism shrugged. "I sneaked out. Kaeral does regularly, and I finally decided to join him."


    Thunder rumbled overhead. "Come with me," Grim said, taking Prism''s hand and pulling him into the night.


    They sprinted down the street just as the clouds burst and the autumnal rains resumed. Rain gave them the perfect cover to explain their urgency; no one looked twice at two young men trying to escape a downpour.


    A few blocks away from the palace, they caught a streetcar traveling away from the richer part of town, leaving it after a few stops in front of a humble but well-illuminated building. Grim waved him toward the building as Prism read the sign.


    "A hotel?" He asked. "Grim, I''m not sure that''s appropriate. What if we''re seen together?"


    "I''ll give you money for a room, one with two beds, for you and your business partner," Grim explained, pulling several paper bills from his pocket and sliding them into Prism''s hand. "You''ll pay for it, so they don''t see my face, and then we can speak in private. I have no ulterior motives."


    "Okay," Prism said, smiling with false confidence. "Let''s go."


    He stepped inside as Grim hung back, keeping his head down and his hood bunched up against the cold. Prism stepped to the counter and met the receptionist, a young and plump Fedain woman with piercing yellow eyes. She had darker skin for a Fedain, the color of dull hematite instead of diamond like Grim''s.


    Prism stared at her, clearly having never seen an Eastern Fedain before. The woman mistook his surprised stare as flirtatious, batting her eyes as she asked him what he needed. He hastily asked for the room Grim had suggested, left his payment, and took his key without another word. Grim caught the receptionist staring after Prism and noted the bewilderment in her eyes. She wasn''t used to a human ignoring her beauty.


    Grim chuckled to himself as he followed Prism up the stairs to the second floor, down the hall to the room matching the number on their key tag. Prism unlocked the door and stepped inside, searching for a lamp to light. He jumped when Grim pulled the chain next to the door, activating the power lights above them. Grim smiled and closed the door behind him.


    "All right, we''re alone now. And safe," Prism said, awkwardly sitting on the edge of one of the beds, facing the aisle between the two. He folded his hands in his lap, fidgeting with his thumbs. "What do you want to talk about?"


    Grim removed his jacket and hung it from a hook beside the door before sitting opposite Prism on the other bed. Their knees almost touched, only an inch separating them. "How are you doing at the Temple? I heard Master Vinh is your mentor," he said, placing his hands on his thighs. Court etiquette taught him how to behave in public, and he managed to keep his hands steady, though he wanted to fidget just as much as the boy sitting across from him.


    "That''s correct. You''re keeping tabs on me?" Prism said.


    "Is that so strange?" Grim asked, barely keeping his voice from quivering.


    "Grim . . ." Prism said awkwardly. He stared at his lap, his knees shaking, "is it wrong in Fedain culture to . . . to love another man?"


    "No. It''s quite normal, actually," Grim replied, steadying his breath. "It''s considered normal in most places in the world. Only Ultakan human law forbids it."


    "So . . . if I told you I''ve been thinking about you ever since the day we danced together, that would be okay?" Prism said. His whole body shook now. Grim wanted to reach out and comfort him, to show him it was all right to feel the way he did, but he needed to address one pertinent question first.


    "Have you taken your monk oaths?" he asked.


    Prism shook his head, still avoiding Grim''s gaze. "No. I haven''t decided ye¡ª"


    Grim darted forward, his hand leading to lift Prism''s chin as he pressed in, kissing Prism on the lips. With both hands, he pushed Prism''s hood back, letting his fingers drift down his scalp and onto his neck where they intertwined behind his head.


    "Well, I''ve been thinking about you, too. Every day," Grim said, placing his forehead against Prism''s to keep their gazes locked together.


    "Every day?" Prism echoed, his eyes filled with surprise at first, but then sadness took over them, and he pulled away from Grim.


    Grim reluctantly let him go, sliding back into his place on the opposite bed. "I can see I''ve made you uncomfortable. I''m sorry, this was a bad idea and¡ª"


    This time Prism darted forward and met Grim with a kiss. An urgent, questioning kiss. Grim reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Prism''s back and neck again, pulling their bodies together as he fell backward onto the bed, taking Prism with him. They kissed for nearly a minute until Prism stopped, staring into Grim''s eyes with pure adoration. "No. No . . . it wasn''t a bad idea at all," he said softly. "I''m just confused. Why have you been thinking about me?"


    Grim rotated, guiding Prism onto his side so they could stare into each other''s eyes. "Fedain develop physical attraction instantly if they develop it at all. It''s a biological trigger. The moment I met you, I wanted you physically." Questions formed in Prism''s eyes and Grim hastened to add, "But from the little I got to know about you, I want you completely. You''re an enigma in all the best ways, a puzzle for me to figure out. I haven''t stopped wondering what became of you, and the little I hear from the temple triggers a thousand fantasies of what could be."


    Prism laughed and said, "I couldn''t say anything as powerful as that, but I do know you''ve filled my thoughts often, too." He sighed and rolled onto his back. "I''ve tried not to think about it, since what future could we have? I''m a human commoner, and you''re a Fedain nobleman. It''s not even lawful for me to want you."


    "Then we''ll run away to some far-off land together," Grim replied, only half-joking. "We could even go tonight, if you''d like."


    "You''d leave your people?" Prism asked, his eyes wide.


    Grim''s own eyes widened as he considered his own statement. Could he run away with Prism? The answer was an emphatic ''yes''. But could he do it now, in the face of all the problems his family and kingdom currently had at their doorstep?


    "No. I couldn''t do that. Not even for you," Grim said, sighing heavily. "I wish I could, but I have responsibilities."


    "And I have more to learn," Prism said. "Master Vinh says if I commit to the monk''s way of life for the duration of my sentence, I could possibly get my sentence reduced by half."


    "Ten years instead of twenty," Grim said. "That''s only nine and a half to go. Plenty of time to figure out how we''d solve the other issue."


    "If I do that, take the oaths, I mean . . . I wouldn''t be able to touch you. If I met you again like this, I couldn''t kiss you again," Prism said.


    "You could . . ." Grim said, stroking Prism''s cheek. "No one would know."


    "I couldn''t do it any more than you could leave your people," Prism replied, rotating back onto his side and mirroring Grim''s hand placement and stroking.


    "Compelled by duty," Grim sighed.


    "Grim, I''m a thief. I spent my childhood stealing and taking advantage of people. For the past seven months I''ve learned a different way of life, and good people have invested in my education. I can''t say I fully understand honor and integrity yet, but I know I could never take those oaths in public then break them in private."


    "But you could take the oaths, the temporary ones?" Grim asked, trying to get a feel for Prism''s position on the issue.


    "I could take the permanent ones," Prism declared, "If you weren''t part of this, I could spend my whole life in the Order."


    "That only makes me like you even more." Grim leaned forward and pecked Prism on the cheek. "The Order of the Mountain has long been one of the few organizations who protect the people without asking for anything in return. They work hard, for little thanks, though I''ve always done my best to show respect to them."


    "What do you want me to do?" Prism asked, raising onto his elbow and supporting his head with his hand. "There are three potential paths I see for me. I could keep sneaking out, we''ll find a way to meet like this, and find out what this is. You and I will meet in secret every time, every kiss in the shadows, every touch behind closed doors. I could do that as soon as I''ve completed my first year, without fear of breaking any oaths."


    Grim shook his head and replied, "A life spent in secret, always running the risk of discovery and grave consequences. Even though my father supports my love for you¡ª"


    "Love?" Prism cut him off, his eyes filled with delight at the mention of the word. Anxiety quickly replaced that delight. "Wait, your father knows about me?"


    "Oh yes . . ." Grim chuckled. "He could tell when he saw me the day we met."


    Prism''s mouth twitched wordlessly for a moment before he replied, "I wouldn''t have expected him to be okay with it."


    "My father is a complicated man. He''s always been a bit of a rogue nobleman. He married a Fedain commoner, for starters," Grim said, grinning. "It''s one of the reasons the people in general like him, compared to other Fedain nobles, anyway." He grimaced and went on, "That''s part of the issue with us acting in secret, though. I have no shame about my attraction to you, but the people would. At this time of political unrest, it would ruin our integrity to hide our relationship."


    "So, you''re not comfortable with that?" Prism surmised.


    "No. I get the feeling you''re not, either."


    "If they found me and you couldn''t protect me, I''d be executed under Ultakan law for loving you," Prism said. "Human cultural matters are resolved in human courts, as I understand."


    "That''s correct, and would be a fate I''d rather avoid, too," Grim said dryly.


    Prism grinned and said. "I''m glad you agree."


    "So, that means we''re not going to meet in secret, so we probably won''t be meeting at all until your sentence is up," Grim said, growling at the unpleasant thought. "You''ll have to choose whether to swear your oaths or not, depending entirely upon yourself."


    "If I can''t be with you anyway, I see no reason not to swear my vows for life," Prism said.


    Grim bolted into a sitting position, placing his hand firmly on Prism''s thigh to get his full attention. "Who said we couldn''t be together in the future?"


    Prism regarded him with complete confusion. "But I thought we just¡ª"


    "I said meeting in secret would be dangerous," Grim clarified. "Once you''re a free man, the risk to you would be significantly reduced. You could live in the palace, completely under my protection. I can''t interfere with your sentencing, but sure as the blood I could keep you safe once you''re outside the legal system. Not to mention, for the duration of your sentence I can use what influence I have, to try to make it easier for humans to love whomever they wish. It will take time to change minds, but it''s a worthy cause on its own, even without our relationship."


    "Would you be invested in changing things if you didn''t love me?" Prism asked.


    "Just because you brought it to my mind, doesn''t mean I''m only pursuing it selfishly now," Grim answered. "I care about my people, Prism. All of them."


    "So, I should swear my oaths temporarily, obey them completely, and apply to renegotiate my sentence. And, in ten years, we''ll be together," Prism said.


    "Nine and a half," Grim amended with a sly smile. "It''s worth waiting for."


    Prism kissed him again, which led to several more minutes of kissing. Grim wanted to press for more, was about to undo Prism''s jacket, when Prism pulled away and said, "I don''t know how I''m going to last without seeing you."


    Grim sighed, Prism wasn''t in the mood to explore their physical relationship further, and he had to accept that. Lying back down, he contemplated the issue facing them. Even ten years would be a considerable wait, and there had to be some way to reduce it for both their sakes.


    He wracked his brain for every legal loophole he knew, making a mental note to ask Sharis for a refresher on Ultakan law. Memories returned of his time spent with the Order of the Mountain, learning the self-defense techniques he still practiced, though they''d grown a bit rusty from lack of use.


    That was it.


    "I have an idea!" Grim said, shooting back to a sitting position. "I''m not sure if it''ll work, though."


    "Tell me about it!" Prism said.


    "I don''t want to get your hopes up," Grim replied.


    Prism laughed and said, "Getting my hopes up is how I''ll survive ten years¡ªnine and a half years¡ªof not being able to see you."


    Grim took both Prism''s hands in his own. "I''ll make a formal request of the Temple, requesting they assign me a training partner to live in the palace with me. I''ll speak to Grandmaster Valkean in private and tell him I want you to be that partner."


    "Do you really believe that will work?" Prism asked.


    Grim nodded. "It will require approval by the Council of Masters, but I think so."


    "Maybe they won''t even require me to swear my oath that way," Prism suggested, his eyes brimming with hope. "We may not be able to do everything we''d like to do, but at least I could touch you on occasion."


    "You could touch me a lot. Sparring would be part of your monk training duties," Grim said suggestively. He let go of Prism''s hands to rest his fingers against Prism''s thighs and leaned in for a slow and passionate kiss. When they parted, Grim whispered sweetly, "Can you stay with me tonight?"


    Prism returned the kiss, guiding Grim back to the bed and climbing on top of him, but after a moment he pulled away, growling in frustration. "No," he said bitterly. "Kaeral and I need to return to the Temple before morning. I''m sure the monks will know I haven''t slept." He turned back to Grim and said, "But at least I had a chance to dream. That''s enough, I think."


    Grim tried to laugh but his breath caught in his throat, so he smiled instead. "And you said you couldn''t say anything powerful," he said, groaning in delighted frustration that he wouldn''t be able to spend the rest of the night with this beautiful boy. "I love you," he said, taking Prism''s hand one more time and squeezing it.


    "I love you," Prism replied. "But I do have to go." Grim nodded. They stood and embraced, kissing one final time before parting.


    "Do you need any help getting to the docks?" Grim asked.


    "I''ll find my way," Prism replied. He placed his hand against Grim''s cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "Good night, Grim."


    Grim''s eyes welled up with tears, and he took Prism''s hand in his, clasping it firmly between his own. "Good night, Prism. I''ll see you soon."


    Prism opened the door, leaving the key on the hook next to Grim''s jacket. He paused there, lifting a loose strand of Grim''s platinum hair from the fabric before wrapping it around his finger and tying it off. He looked back at Grim once, his smile breaking as tears streamed down his face.


    The door closed, and they made good use of one of the beds, thankful for the pounding rain concealing their lovemaking. Both would have explaining to do in the morning, but that night together mattered more than any punishment ever would.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism headed toward the shore to retrieve his real clothing. He''d left through the gate, not caring that the soldiers saw him and would report back to the Temple about his whereabouts. He expected them to stop him, but it soon became clear why they did not. Shortly down the road stood an old Gor in Master''s robes, who fell into step beside Prism without a word.


    Master Vinh and Prism walked to the shore in silence. If the master didn''t want to speak, Prism didn''t want to either. The monks would punish him when he returned to the Temple, for breaking their trust and disobeying the conditions of his pardon. Addressing that now served no purpose.


    Instead, he thumbed the hair tied around his index finger, his thoughts filled with the pleasurable memory of the night before. How had he ever thought he could give up the chance of being with Grim?


    When they reached the shore, Prism discarded his clothes in favor of the monk''s robes he''d left behind there. Kaeral''s had already vanished, meaning his friend had returned to the Temple without him.


    Now dressed the part, it seemed the proper time to address the silent master attending him. "I had to decide some things. The apple tree helped me sort it out," he stated, hoping the cryptic nature of his answer would please the usually cryptic master.


    "Is that so?" Master Vinh replied. "And what did you determine?"


    "Master Vinh . . ." Prism said, bowing low to his mentor. "I''d like to learn more about the oaths."


    "The branch broke, didn''t it?" Master Vinh asked. "Those branches are as sturdy as peach pits. Be careful where you leave the broken branches, lest they be used as weapons against you." He sighed, turning toward the Temple on the hill. "We''ll begin training you to take the oaths this afternoon. I suggest you get what little sleep you can in your free time. You''ll be working much harder than usual to make up for the time you''ve lost. You must learn that a monk''s robes are not so easily discarded."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 9: Fathers

    Prism''s angry growl pierced the solitude of Ghayle''s garden, and she pulled away from him, regarding him curiously. He stepped away from the log, furiously pacing.


    "That night . . . that day . . . Master Vinh and his bloody apple tree," Prism muttered.


    "The memory was more bitter than you expected? I don''t understand your reaction. You wanted to see that day," Ghayle replied quizzically.


    Prism faced her and said, "Sometimes we have to face our demons."


    "Pertinent words."


    "I speak metaphorically, not literally. Facing the darkness of the past can help bring clarity to the present."


    "Interesting."


    "I refuse to let my words justify your actions!" Prism roared, stepping toward her, his fists clenched in wrathful agony.


    Ghayle shrugged. "Then don''t. I own my actions, you don''t. I don''t need you to defend me, or to justify me in any way, but I don''t think that''s why you''re upset. You hate yourself for that night. Why?"


    "I could''ve done things differently," Prism said ruefully. "I could''ve run away with Grim. I could''ve owned the truth and told Master Vinh everything, asking to be punished accordingly. He trusted me to be faithful, and instead I rewarded his trust with the naivety of a child, thinking everything could just return to normal without any consequences."


    "Who would you be now if you''d done things differently?" Ghayle asked. "Could you guarantee happiness?"


    "I would''ve spent those years with Grim. We would''ve been happy, at least until the demons came," Prism said with less confidence than his words implied.


    "How can you be certain of that?" Ghayle asked. "How can you know that? You are you now, and you were you then, but you then, and you now, are not the same." She stood and circled Prism, her appraising gaze sweeping over him. "Your choices evolved you, crafting a heroic narrative, in my opinion."


    "I didn''t know what I wanted," Prism said. "I guess I still don''t."


    "Your world changed in ways you could''ve never predicted. It always does. Even when you can see everything happening at once, predicting the future is as difficult as anticipating the pattern of ripples on a pond during a downpour," Ghayle stated.


    "Can I see Grim again. Please?" Prism begged, hating himself for the way he whimpered, sounding all too much like the boy he''d left behind long ago in that hotel room. "Please . . . I need to touch him again."


    Ghayle regarded him with empathy, not judgment, and reached out her hand. "Of course," she said.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Grim knocked on the door to his father''s study. As soon as the acknowledgement came, he opened the door and slipped through the crack, closing it softly behind him. Duke Selfaeth seemed to be growing thinner every time Grim saw him, and he drank more often, too. A weight hung from his shoulders, distorting the picture of the poised nobleman Grim had always admired.


    Now he worked over a pile of papers, a wireless communicator serving as a paperweight. His father had ignored a hundred calls over the past three days, though he''d answered twice as many, and each call seemed to increase the weight on his father''s soul


    "Father, I want to ask you something," Grim said, creeping toward the large chair sitting before the desk and sliding into it.


    Duke Selfaeth appeared startled, as if not realizing he''d told anyone to come in. "Grimfaeth!" he said, dropping his pen and rewarding his son with a beaming grin. It even lit up his eyes for a moment, and Grim smiled back as his father continued. "We haven''t had much of a chance to speak since I came back from Madrith, I''m sorry. Are you doing okay? I''m sorry I missed your naming day. Did you at least get your present?"


    "Yes. It''s very nice," Grim said, nodding vigorously. "How did you know I wanted Secrets of the Shadowtide?"


    Duke Selfaeth sighed and leaned back in his chair. He reached for his wine glass and, finding it empty, stood to retrieve more wine from a nearby stand. "I''m ashamed to admit it, but I had to ask Sharis," he said as the wine sloshed into the glass. "That''s a rare book, nearly a century out of print, but they say it''s still as accurate as any other on the subject. Sharis said you''re always asking about the Sendar, and the Ancient Cult of Naxthul, so I thought you''d appreciate it. Turned out Baron Chardran had a copy in his personal library."


    "Oh, visiting old flames, are you?" Grim asked.


    Duke Selfaeth chuckled and downed his wine in a single gulp, then poured himself another. Grim fought the urge to frown, forcing the smile to remain on his face. "It was nothing like that. We met for dinner, so he could introduce his new wife. Both his first wife and his husband were there, too, so nothing improper happened between us," Duke Selfaeth explained. "When they asked about you, I mentioned your interest in archaeology, and he said he had a few books on the subject. He practically insisted I take it when I said it was one you wanted."


    "Thank you, Father," Grim replied. "I''ve already read it three times. I think I''d like to study archaeology when I attend the University in Madrith. Maybe I could even visit the Baron and talk about ancient history?" He shifted his eyebrows suggestively, and his father rewarded him with another laugh.


    "You''ve never wanted to be a politician, and that''s probably a good thing," Duke Selfaeth said. His smile faltered as the words lingered between them like a fog, and he added quietly, almost to himself, "I hope you won''t have to be."


    Grim''s smile disappeared, too, becoming a frown as his father took another gulp of wine. "I hope so, too," Grim said.


    "Well, what did you come to talk to me about?" Duke Selfaeth said, returning to his seat and slumping in it, fixing his son with a renewed grin. Grim had the distinct impression the grin was only for his benefit, for the darkness in his father''s eyes seemed as deep as ever.


    "I want to make a formal request of the Temple of the Mountain," Grim said.


    "For what?"


    "I''d like to request a training partner," Grim stated.


    Duke Selfaeth sipped his wine, too intrigued by this strange request to fully indulge himself. "You completed your training already. You''ve mastered all the techniques Fedain are allowed to know."


    "That''s hardly common knowledge," Grim said. "And besides, having a monk around would be good for other reasons. An extra bodyguard, who won''t be expected would be great, don''t you think?"


    "That doesn''t explain why you want to make the request of the Temple specifically. We could simply assign you a plainclothes bodyguard from the military," Duke Selfaeth replied. "I''m not going to judge you for the truth, Grim, so just tell me what''s going on."


    Grim sighed; he''d expected this. "Do you remember nine months ago, when I met that human boy?"


    "Oh no . . ." Duke Selfaeth said, laughing. "Still driven by love, I see. So, you''d like to request him specifically? The Order would find that strange, and probably wouldn''t honor that request. Tensions are bad enough in this country, I couldn''t insist, either, so we''d be out of luck if the order said ''no''."


    "I would prefer the official request for a training partner to come from you, but I will personally deliver it to Grandmaster Valkean and request Prism privately. That way, the suggestion of Prism will come from him," Grim said.


    "You''re gambling on his generosity," Duke Selfaeth replied. "I know the Grandmaster is fond of you, but are you so sure he''d be willing to do that for you? You can''t tell him why, either. Any human, at least in Ultaka, would consider what you''re asking to be a perversion."


    "I believe he will allow it, if we promise not to interfere with Prism''s training," Grim replied. "As long as we meet them partway, I think he''ll understand if I, say, explain I would prefer someone my own age?"


    Duke Selfaeth nodded, accepting the logic. "As a pardon, he''ll be expected to return to the Temple for regular training reviews. His life will be much more difficult in terms of what''s required of him. Are you sure you want to put him through that?"


    "I''m sure he''ll be fine with it," Grim replied.


    "You''re sure, huh? That''s no casual certainty, you really are sure," Duke Selfaeth said, his wine glass halfway to his lips. His eyes narrowed as he lowered the glass. "What aren''t you telling me?"


    Grim gulped. He''d just let slip a crucial piece of information to his too perceptive father. There was no use lying now. "I . . . I met him in the city two months ago, shortly before you left for Madrith."


    "You what!?" Duke Selfaeth roared, slamming his hands on the desk as he rose to his feet. The wine glass shattered, sending shards of glass and splatters of wine flying in several directions. "You sneaked out, at night, by yourself, to meet your human lover? And don''t tell me you didn''t sneak out, because there''s no way you met him with an escort. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"


    Grim shrank into his chair, trying in vain to hide from his father''s glare. "It wasn''t planned."


    "You mean he kidnapped you?" Duke Selfaeth asked.


    "No, just that the meeting wasn''t planned. I . . . I did the sneaking out myself," Grim said. His father''s frantic eyes made him want to crawl behind the cushions in the chair and never come back out. "I''m sorry, Father," he whimpered. Though he''d grown accustomed to resisting his father''s ire in the past, this was different. He''d truly disappointed his father here, wounded his trust in ways that would take him years to repair. Grim had stressed his already worn out father to the breaking point.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "I don''t believe you!" Duke Selfaeth said. He came out from behind the desk, crouching in front of Grim, fearful eyes shedding tears over an angry scowl. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there right now? A riot in Varino two days ago left over four hundred dead and nearly three thousand injured. Of the four hundred, three hundred and twenty-four were Fedain, who died at a party honoring Varino''s magistrate."


    "I hadn''t heard about that," Grim said weakly.


    "We''ve managed to suppress the newscasts so far, but it''s not an isolated incident, either," Duke Selfaeth said. "Two weeks ago, two Fedain teens were abducted on their way home from school, tortured, and their corpses left hanging on the school grounds for their peers to find in the morning." He shook his head helplessly. "Those two were commoners, and have nothing to do with the political situation, but not even they were safe. They want to kill us, Grim, even the ones who are trying to make things better."


    "All the more reason for me to have extra protection."


    Grim regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He hadn''t meant it the way it sounded, like he was trying to dismiss the tragedy and get what he wanted at the same time. He''d intended to agree with his father, but thoughts of Prism had twisted his words into something manipulative, which delivered a blow straight to Duke Selfaeth''s soul.


    The Duke straightened, his eyes filled with nothing but bitter disappointment. He sat back in his chair, assuming the perfect posture of the nobleman as he eyed the stem of the broken wine glass still sitting on the edge of the desk. "I''ll consider your request," he stated and picked up his pen, wiping tiny shards of glass from the page in front of him before he continued to read through it.


    "Father, I really think¡ª" Grim said.


    "I don''t care what you think, Grimfaeth," Duke Selfaeth said icily. "The world does not revolve around you and your desires. The world is not yours to command and bend to your will. You are not safe. None of us are. You need to take responsibility for your actions, and until you learn that, I can''t afford to indulge you."


    Grim cried, sobs wracking his entire body as he stared at his father, trying to understand how things had become so bad. "Father, I''m sorry!" he wailed.


    Duke Selfaeth suppressed a sob, his pen pausing for just a moment before he said, "I have work to do, Grim. Send in my scribe on your way out."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Grim clutched the letter tightly as the car rumbled up the dirt road toward the temple. Two months had passed since his conversation with his father, until he woke to find the letter slipped under his door.


    They hadn''t spoken since the incident in his father''s study. They''d passed each other in the palace halls a few times and shared one awkward meal together before independently deciding to take meals in their rooms. Grim rarely saw Veil, either, as she always attended their father, fulfilling whatever stately duties were required of the Duke and heir.


    The tension in his household never seemed to completely go away, though it had dulled. Grim spent all his time in his rooms. His father would have extra security specifically tasked with keeping him inside the palace.


    But the letter changed things, albeit slightly. It wasn''t Duke Selfaeth''s endorsement of Grim''s activities, but at least the Duke would allow Grim his chance to help Prism. The Duke had a heart after all.


    "Are you going to tell me what this is about, Lord Grim?" Sharis asked, glancing over from the opposite side of the vehicle. His father''s conditions required Sharis to attend him everywhere outside the palace, one of the many reasons Grim had chosen to remain indoors.


    Grim met Sharis'' eyes for just a moment before looking back out the window. "No."


    "Okay . . ." Sharis said, drumming his fingers nervously on the door. He exhaled slowly and suggested, "Let''s work on your language studies, then."


    Grim shook his head. "No."


    "Lord Grim, you need to study," Sharis replied. "We shouldn''t waste time."


    Grim sighed, closing his eyes, wishing cutting off sight would also cut off sound. "I''m too anxious to study. It wouldn''t do any good."


    "Perhaps some meditation exercises then?" Sharis suggested.


    Grim stifled a groan. Sharis wasn''t going to remain silent, no matter how many times Grim refused to engage him in conversation. With no hope of silence, a more aggressive approach was in order. "I''m a little surprised you''re so willing to talk," Grim said, "You''re not particularly fond of the Order of the Mountain."


    "As a Priest of the Blood, we certainly have differences of opinion, but not so many as to make us enemies," Sharis said. "The Order does plenty of good in the world."


    "Oh, in that case, the reason we''re going to the Temple is so I can join them," Grim said, making his face as serious as possible to sell the lie. "This is my father''s letter of introduction. It took me awhile to convince him, but since this is what I really want, he couldn''t say no."


    Sharis balked at Grim''s declaration. "What? Have you lost your mind? When did you make this decision?"


    "I didn''t, but I had to call your bluff," Grim replied testily. "You''d never forgive me for joining the Order. As a human order, you wouldn''t consider it proper for a Fedain to join their ranks."


    "I respect your personal decisions, Lord Grim," Sharis said, sighing in relief, "But Fedain are supposed to be pacifists, and the Order is violent by nature."


    "Yet you''re content to be surrounded by soldiers for our protection," Grim said, gesturing to the driver and the woman riding alongside him, both Ultakan soldiers. The soldiers ignored his comment, though they certainly heard it. Not for the first time in his life, Grim wondered what the human military thought about serving the Fedain nobility. Were they really content to serve the Fedain just because the Fedain healed their wounds and sicknesses for free?


    "It''s necessary, Lord Grim," Sharis said.


    Grim sighed and returned to the window. "No. It isn''t."


    "Your father thinks it is."


    "Does he?" Grim asked, fixing Sharis with an incredulous glare. "You think you know what my father thinks? I certainly don''t. Veil doesn''t know, either."


    Sharis'' blanched at Grim''s annoyed tone. "You can at least be assured your father has your best interests at heart."


    Grim became conscious again of the paper between his fingers, a carefully constructed letter Grim had read and reread a dozen times so far. It was everything Grim had asked for, a formal request for a training partner from the Temple. But why had it taken his father so long to give it to him?


    "Maybe he does," Grim whispered. "But how can I be sure?"


    The gates of the Temple wall opened before them a short time later, and Grim stepped out of their vehicle to find Grandmaster Valkean standing there to greet him. A large crowd of initiates training in the eastern yards drew Grim''s eye for only a moment. He''d never seen the grounds so full of new recruits, another surprise for the day.


    "Good morning, Grim," Valkean said, bowing respectfully to Grim.


    Grim made sure to bow much lower to the monk. "Grandmaster Valkean. I''d not expected you to greet me."


    Valkean smiled and said, "Your father contacted us a half-hour ago to let us know you''d be coming. While I could''ve sent a representative, I was under the impression you were here on official business."


    "That''s correct," Grim said, brandishing the letter in his hand. "I''d like to meet with you in private, if that''s all right?"


    "Certainly. Come with me," Valkean said, gesturing toward the Temple.


    Grim fell into step beside the master but had only gone a few steps when Sharis frantically shouted after him. "Lord Grim!" Grim turned a dark look on him. The tutor continued in a subdued tone, "Do you have need of my counsel?"


    "No," Grim said, chuckling. He glanced at Valkean who wore a small smile. "Stay here, Sharis. I''m safe here."


    Valkean led Grim through the initiate quarters on the bottom floor, to the stairs at the back. They ascended all the way past the Masters'' quarters and the Grandmasters'' Office, stopping only when they reached the top floor. Above everything else in the Temple grounds, the meditation balcony held the most marvelous view of Kobinaru and the surrounding countryside. In the far distance, the Dorram stretched endlessly toward the Northern and Eastern horizons.


    Grim appreciated the view, waiting for the Grandmaster to speak, out of deference to his station. Valkean let the silence linger for several minutes before breaking it. "You''ve had a disagreement with your tutor?" he asked.


    "I have disagreements with most members of my race these days," Grim admitted. "Everyone but Veil."


    "Your father''s voice troubled me when I spoke to him," Valkean said, declining to comment on Grim''s explanation. "He''s under a great deal of stress."


    "My father feels I''m being irresponsible," Grim said bitterly.


    Valkean turned to Grim, putting his back to the railing separating him from the long drop to the Temple grounds below. "Yet he sent you on official business. May I know the nature of your visit?"


    "It''s official, yet personal." Grim handed the letter to Valkean and explained, "This is the official request, from my father."


    "I see," Valkean said, taking the letter and unfolding it. He read through it, his face expressionless as he considered its contents, then refolded it. "And the personal request?"


    "I''d like to select Prism as my training partner," Grim replied, bowing after the words left his mouth, hoping the show of respect would increase his chances.


    "He''s a pardon, not yet at his full year," Valkean observed. "Normally I would not be able to consider this until after his year is up. Why should I bend the rules for you?"


    Grim looked up hopefully. "You''d have an official representative at the Kobinaru court."


    "We have seats on the council, and Prism would hardly qualify as an official representative. He''s not even a Junior Master," Valkean said. "Is there another reason?"


    Grim sucked in his breath. This would be more difficult than he''d anticipated. "You''d have a personal favor from me?" He asked.


    "Favors are like bribes, distasteful when used to manipulate," Valkean said, his eyes narrowing.


    Grim sighed, risking the most honest answer, and only one he had left. "You''d make me happy?"


    "You''re in love with him, aren''t you?" Valkean replied, a sly smile creasing his face. "That Fedain biology worked against you from the first time you laid eyes on him."


    "Your legendary perception never ceases to amaze me," Grim replied, matching Valkean''s smile. Concealing anything from the Grandmaster would only lead to distrust, and so he admitted to everything. "It goes beyond biology now. Initially, lust compelled me. I pulled him out into that parade as a mating dance, looking for any excuse to keep him in full proximity, but by the end I saw him differently. I wanted his mind, his story, his experience. Since nothing escapes your notice here, I''m sure you know he sneaked into Kobinaru four months ago."


    "And he met with you," Valkean said, nodding. "Master Vinh suspected as much, but Prism never admitted to it. If he had, Master Vinh would''ve been lenient."


    Grim''s smile fell, and his pleading eyes locked with Valkean''s. "I love him, Grandmaster. I don''t want him to be alone."


    Valkean sighed, turning back to the view. He spoke softly, but each word carried weight as if carefully selected. "Prism is a complicated boy. Sixteen, like you, and approaching full manhood at a rapid pace. Right now, he wants to be a monk, but he also wants something different. He wants a life full of adventure and meaning. Monks can have that, certainly, but I don''t think it would fulfill him." He sighed and stared at the letter, then turned back to Grim, nodding resolutely. "I''ll submit your official request before the council, and I will advise the council that a boy your age and comparable size would make the most appropriate choice. Prism would be the only logical conclusion."


    "Thank you, Grandmaster," Grim said, bowing low.


    "It may not work out the way you hope," Valkean warned. "Your request will be subjected to the will of the Masters. Not all will see wisdom in this, especially as I certainly cannot petition them on grounds of true love." He chuckled wryly and rolled his eyes, a peculiar act for the normally reserved monk. "The reason most of these men became monks was to escape what they considered perverse attractions. If they knew the purpose of your request, it would work against you."


    "I knew that. It''s why I came to you," Grim said.


    Valkean''s eyebrows raised, but he regarded Grim with nothing but amused curiosity. "Oh? You knew I held no such self-loathing?"


    "During my training here, I once asked you why you became a monk," Grim said. "You told me you considered the enlightenment of one''s true self the only cause worth pursuing with all your energy. For you, that meant being a monk, because serving the people and achieving self-discipline and physical health had filled you the same way sexual desire filled most boys. You were born to be a monk. Because of that lesson, I''ve always felt I could trust you with my true self, because I knew you respect the individual."


    "A mountain is built of smaller mountains," Valkean said thoughtfully. "We are strong by supporting each other. We all rise together, or we all fall together." He shook his head and went on, "It is no use to criticize a boulder for being a boulder, nor a tree for being a tree. Both can be a home for those who accept their positive qualities instead of focusing on the obstacles they may represent."


    Grim sighed. "I wish more people understood that."


    "If you met Prism again four months ago, why are you only coming to me now?" Valkean asked. "If you waited this long, you might as well have waited another month for Prism''s first year to arrive, then he could''ve met you at his leisure. I suppose you needed a reason for him to enter the palace, but why wait so long?"


    "I came as soon as I could," Grim replied, his smile tightening. "My Father didn''t give me official permission until this morning."


    Valkean considered that statement for a moment, then moved toward the steps leading to the level below them. "Come with me, Grim."


    Grim followed, letting Valkean lead him into his office, where he put Grim''s letter on his desk, then stooped to open a locked chest on the other side of the room. He fished through the contents for a moment until returning with another letter.


    "Your father is not an obstacle to overcome, Grim. He sent me a letter two months ago, telling me you might arrive and request Prism as a personal training partner. He included an official letter of request to present to the council should you arrive," Valkean explained, handing the letter to Grim. "He knows you better than you think," he added with a smile. "I''ve kept the first letter safe in case you arrived, but I think you can have it now. A token of your father''s love, even if he did hope you''d learn a little responsibility in the meantime."


    Grim stared at the letter in his hand, trying to comprehend the scope of his father''s action, but couldn''t wrap his head around it. "Why is it so difficult to communicate with him? Why can''t I understand him?"


    "Why''s are easy to answer, if you''re honest with yourself," Valkean said. "I suggest you return to the palace. I''ll convene the Masters as soon as possible, but this matter may not be resolved immediately."


    Grim bowed again, his lowest of the day. "Thank you, Grandmaster Valkean."


    Valkean returned the bow, bending just as far as Grim. Respect filled his eyes when he straightened and addressed Grim again. "Lord Grim, today you proved yourself worthy of your station. Learn from your father. He can teach you things you don''t know about yourself."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 10: Of Love and Oaths

    Prism lounged in Kaeral''s room, tired from a day of hard labor. Master Vinh had made good on his promise, working him from dawn to dusk every single day since Prism had sneaked out. Prism refused to tell the Master the nature of his visit and bore his labors in near silence.


    Today afforded him a rare moment of respite, as Valkean had called the Masters to council several hours earlier, and once Prism completed the tasks Master Vinh had already assigned him, he finished a few more for good measure, then went to find his friend.


    Kaeral had recently taken to returning to the city again. Winter had receded, and the sea waters had warmed once again. Prism longed for news of the outside world, as his chores often kept him cloistered.


    As soon as he finished exchanging pleasantries with Kaeral, he asked, "What news do you have from Kobinaru? I know you went down last night."


    Kaeral, who knelt in front of his mirror, shaving his head with a straight razor, turned to Prism with a grin. "Did you hear a man spat in President Caliphar of Oligan''s face?"


    Prism leaned forward from his place on Kaeral''s bedroll, eager to hear about this strange, and likely untrue, rumor. Most of Kaeral''s stories were exaggerated big fish tales, but this one held the promise of at least being inventive. "No. Master Vinh doesn''t leave enough time for me to catch up on the news. What happened?"


    "Apparently one of the engineers¡ªsome guy named Neredos¡ªbehind Oligan''s new rumored weapon?" Kaeral paused to gauge Prism''s recognition of the name or the technology. When Prism didn''t react, Kaeral sighed and continued. "He didn''t like that they made his designs into a weapon, apparently he hoped it would create technology for the people, not the military. When Caliphar held a ceremony to honor the scientists behind it, Neredos spat in the president''s face." He laughed fondly at that, as he always did at anything anarchic in nature. "It gets weirder though."


    "How could that get weirder?" Prism asked. "Did they decide not to imprison him? Because that would be weird for Oligan. They imprison people just for speaking their mind, I hear. Though I guess that isn''t much different than here."


    "They say Neredos is currently in Gor territory, so I guess he escaped or something," Kaeral replied. "He''s the entire reason we know about the weapon. Who knows how long the Ultakan government has known."


    Prism shrugged. Government secrets didn''t constitute weirdness, and this story lacked Kaeral''s usual exaggeration. No fantastic elements or supernatural beings appearing from nowhere¡ªthat''s what usually constituted a Kaeral story. "But what''s the weird thing?" Prism asked.


    "Oh," Kaeral said, his eyes lighting up as he lowered the razor, flicking off the bit of lather from the end and dipping it in the bowl of clean water to rinse it. "Apparently a huge bird swooped in on the ceremony and stole the rag the president used to wipe his face." He turned to Prism and grinned. "It just came out of nowhere."


    "That is weird. Do you think it''s true?" Prism asked, glad Kaeral hadn''t lost his touch.


    Kaeral chuckled and said, "I don''t know. I mean, it sounds at least more believable than the brain thing."


    "Refresh my memory . . ." Prism asked. He couldn''t remember anything about brains, but he could''ve lost it in all the other fantastic tales he''d heard in the eleven months he''d known Kaeral.


    "Supposedly there''re human twins with a telepathic connection," Kaeral explained. Carefully shaving the other side of his scalp, his words took on a precision to match the delicacy of the procedure. "One worked in the Oligani government, and the other was a farmer in Lodan. Supposedly the farmer was selling Oligan secrets from her sister''s mind to the Ultakan government. The Oligani found out and executed the one on their side, and her twin died of an aneurism in the same instant."


    Prism groaned. "You believe the strangest things."


    "What makes it even stranger is that both brains went missing within days of each other. Just disappeared," Kaeral said, not bothered at all by Prism''s disbelief.


    Prism barked a laugh at the absurd story. "Where do you get this stuff?"


    "Tala," Kaeral said. "This is all they''re talking about in the taverns on the Kobinaru docks. A lot of strange stuff happening in the world."


    "Sounds like tavern legends to me," Prism said. "Though I think I''ve at least heard of Neredos. One of the new initiates was talking about him last week. They say he''s building a flying city on the northern edge of the continent. That sounds just as farfetched, but I guess if he''s an engineer, maybe it''s true?"


    "That part is true," Kaeral confirmed, finishing his shave. He dried off the razor on a clean towel as he went on, "He''s using the same technology he designed for Oligan, but with some help from Gor magic. Apparently, he married a Gor shaman."


    "Really?" Prism asked. Considering Gor relations with humans in Ultaka, this initially seemed the most unlikely part of the story so far. Yet Neredos came from Oligan, and things could be different there. Marhys Elrhanadan, Kaeral''s wife, was half-human, after all.


    Kaeral shrugged and said, "That''s what they say."


    "I''m surprised Oligan is letting him get away with using their technology," Prism said.


    "Their attention has been divided recently. Seems Ultaka isn''t the only place with problems. Mining revolts have disrupted their production recently, and the problem is only getting worse." Kaeral sighed and turned a smirk on Prism as he finished putting his shaving kit away. "Tala says the Elroks have joined forces with the miners."


    Prism didn''t have much to say about that. Other nations'' politics had never factored into his education, and though he found them interesting, the ability to offer a relevant comment escaped him. Instead, he took the safer route and changed the subject. "And how''s your son?"


    Kaeral beamed at the mention of his son. "Villar''s doing well. It''s only the second time I''ve seen him, but I''m excited for next month so I can go there without sneaking out."


    "And Marhys?" Prism asked quietly. "Have you heard from her?"


    Kaeral''s eyes lost a bit of their luster as he said, "Still no word. She''s been gone since Villar''s birth. I assume she went south, to start her search near her mother''s people. She could be frozen in the Dobrag by now."


    "Are you going to look for her once you''ve completed your sentence?" Prism asked.


    "I haven''t decided yet. Villar will need me, so I''ll do what I must to make the life he needs," Kaeral replied. "You know, it''s a strange thing. The only reason I stayed here at the Temple is because of Marhys'' insistence. Even with the dogged determination of these monks and their threats to hunt me down, I could''ve gotten out. Easy," He sighed and added, "but Marhys thought I needed to stay out of trouble and learn something other than thievery. She wanted me to make a different life for our son than the one I had growing up."


    "You''re going to be a good father," Prism said. "Not that I know much about good father''s."


    Kaeral moved over to the bedroll and sat next to Prism, putting his hand on Prism''s arm and saying, "I''ll miss you, Prism, when I get out of here."


    "You could still come visit me," Prism said.


    Before Kaeral could respond, the door to his room opened and a young initiate poked his head into the room. In recent months, young men were joining the order in droves. Kaeral theorized most wanted to avoid the brewing war and didn''t have any actual interest in pursuing enlightenment.


    Prism rarely had time to engage with the initiates, except when Master Vinh assigned him to assist with their training. They all looked the same to him, too. Young, scared, eyes filled with regret over their decision to live the monk''s life . . . with shaved heads and identical clothing, the only physical difference for most was skin color and body shape. They''d come from all over Ultaka, from a dozen different ethnic groups at least.


    This initiate was no different than most, his only defining features were his brown skin and narrow eyes, and Prism didn''t even know his name. The reverse proved to be untrue, as the initiate addressed him directly. "Prism, you are wanted in the Masters'' Hall."


    "What is this about?" Prism asked, rising to his feet in one fluid movement.


    The initiate bowed and said, "I''ve been told to fetch you. That''s all I know."


    Kaeral shrugged and said, "I guess we''ll finish this conversation later?"


    "I guess so," Prism replied. He let the initiate lead him from the room, down the hall, and up to the second floor. The Masters lived here, with bedrooms on both the eastern and western sides of the Temple. In the center, running almost the entire length from North to South, was a large room which served as both a training hall and a meeting place.


    When Prism entered the room, he found himself facing every Master currently residing at the Temple. Most of them¡ªtwenty-six in all¡ªknelt in two separate groups of thirteen, facing the center of the room. Five Senior Masters, who led the council, knelt at the far end of the training hall, facing the door from which Prism entered. Only Grandmaster Valkean remained separate from the total group of thirty-one, kneeling in the center of the room and facing the Senior Masters.


    "Prism, please, kneel before us," one of the Senior Masters, Jovun, said. Prism complied, picking up on the subtle signal from Grandmaster Valkean that he should kneel beside him. As soon as Prism settled, Master Jovun spoke again. "Do you know why you''re here?"


    "I do not," Prism replied.


    "Lord Grimfaeth of Kobinaru came to visit us this morning, requesting a training partner," Master Jovun explained. "Grandmaster Valkean suggested a person of age and size to him might be most appropriate, and we agree."


    Prism fought hard to keep the flutter of excitement within him from overtaking his expression and betraying his emotions to the council. He summoned all the ugly thoughts he could, to keep his face stony. "Am I to report for assignment?"


    "Not yet," Master Jovun said. "Concerns have been raised regarding your suitability for this assignment. Master Vinhkroludar, you may speak."


    Master Vinh prostrated himself from his position on the eastern wing, then rose to his feet, his face a mask of perfect solemnity. He paced the floor in front of Prism and Valkean, his eyes locked on his pupil as he made several passes. He stopped directly in front of Prism and asked, "Prism, how do you feel about your time in the Order of the Mountain?"


    "I have learned a great deal here, Master Vinh, particularly under your tutelage," Prism replied automatically. "I was directionless in my youth, but over the past year I have learned a more enlightened way to live."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "On this assignment, you would serve as a representative of this order at the Duke''s personal court. You, who has shown no remorse for breaking the rules and venturing into the city four months ago," Master Vinh said.


    The first signs of dread formed in the pit of his stomach. "I''ve fulfilled every duty you assigned me since. I have shown discipline."


    "Discipline yes, but honor?" Master Vinh asked, letting the question linger for a moment before answering it himself. "No. If you''d come to us, contrite for the wrongs you''d committed, you would have proven your integrity to me."


    "There are many different paths," Prism said, staring straight ahead, his eyes locked on the hem of Master Vinh''s robes. He could not meet his mentor''s eyes and face the judgment there. "Was it not you who showed me this?"


    Master Vinh resumed his pacing, completing several more paths before stopping before Prism once more. "Different paths, yes. But each path comes with consequences. Each path comes with dangers, obstacles, pitfalls . . . ways to trap yourself. Are you remorseful? Did betraying our trust weigh on your soul for even a moment?"


    "No, Master," Prism said. Lying would do no good here. He could omit truth but refusing to answer at all would also work against him. The monks would see refusal as an admittance of guilt. They would see lies as justification for their distrust, and rightly so. Prism had to tell the truth. "No, it did not weigh on me. I learned the truth of myself on that journey."


    "Would you care to share that truth, Prism?" Master Jovun offered.


    Prism met Master Jovun''s eyes and said, "I cannot. Another''s safety hinges upon my silence."


    Master Vinh understood the implications of Prism''s statement and supplied the answer for the council. "Love."


    "Love, Master Vinh," Prism confirmed.


    Master Vinh paced again. Seconds became minutes, and Prism''s heart counted every one a hundred times. When Master Vinh spoke again, the dread in Prism''s body raced to catch up to his pulse. "For eleven months and two days, I have taught you martial skill, I have trained you in matters of agility and strength. I have educated you in discipline, and I have attempted to show you honor. You honor your love, but you do not honor us," Master Vinh said. "I have also taught you perspective. Understand ours. What has been asked of you is that you represent our Order. Grandmaster Valkean has brought this matter to us, has raised your name for our approval, but if you go as a monk, you must act as a monk. You''ve shown that, when left to your own devices, you put your own needs above those of the Order. This will not be acceptable."


    He walked several paces then turned back. Prism finally risked eye contact and found Master Vinh''s eyes filled not with judgment, but empathy and sadness. Prism''s heart leapt in a different direction; his mentor had tried to teach him something. Now, in the face of the most difficult decision of Prism''s life, he tried to teach him the lesson for a final time.


    Master Vinh spoke, maintaining Prism''s gaze. "You may choose to accept or refuse this assignment. If you refuse this assignment, you will be allowed to continue as you have, the same paths open to you. If you accept this assignment, however, to act as a representative of our Order, you must swear the oaths of service." Each word hung in the air like the apex of a juggled ball. Prism''s mind raced to catch them all. If he failed to catch the meaning of his lesson here, he would lose out on the greatest lesson Master Vinh had to teach him¡ªthat of sacrifice.


    Prism maintained Master Vinh''s gaze as Grandmaster Valkean asked the council, "Do the rest of you agree with this assessment?"


    "We do," Master Jovun responded. "As it was agreed, dependent upon Prism''s answers."


    Prism understood Master Vinh then, when his mentor offered a single, barely perceptible nod. Nearly insubstantial robes weighed on Prism''s shoulders, but it was a bearable burden, if it meant serving his love. He prostrated himself before the council and said, "Masters, I am prepared to swear the oaths of service for the duration of my sentence."


    "Will this suffice, Masters?" Master Vinh asked.


    "It will," Master Jovun said, "But a single deviation from the oaths will end your assignment immediately and permanently, and you will return to us to serve out the remainder of your sentence."


    "I understand, Master Jovun," Prism replied as he returned to his kneeling position. "And I agree to the terms of this agreement."


    "Then swear the oaths before this council," Master Jovun declared.


    Prism took a single, meditative breath, and sealed the contract of his soul. "I vow to uphold the sanctity of the Mountain in all my dealings."


    The Masters answered in chorus. "So witnessed."


    Prism continued with the second vow. "I vow to defend the innocent, the helpless, and to resort to violence only to the magnitude it is necessary."


    "So witnessed."


    "I vow to stand as an example to the community, a pillar of strength, a steadfast obstacle in the path of impurity."


    "So witnessed."


    Panic washed over Prism, as his mind raced back to Grim''s soft skin, the taste of his lips, the ecstasy of their bodies locked together in a moment of pure, uninhibited bliss. But the Order demanded a sacrifice of him. Words came, dragged from him like drips from a leaky faucet, impossible to stop no matter how much he wished he could. "I vow to maintain physical purity, to forgo the carnal pleasures of the flesh, to avoid contact with all beings except in accordance with my service to the Mountain."


    "So witnessed," the chorus answered.


    Master Jovun addressed him again, his voice projected as he proclaimed, "The four oaths of service have been sworn. In accordance with the sacred rites of the Mountain, you are afforded the rank of Junior Master, probationary to your term of service to the Order of the Mountain. You are assigned to the court of Duke Selfaeth of Tehir Province. You will serve as a training partner to Lord Grimfaeth, youngest child of the Duke, and second heir to the Duchy of Tehir. Your duties will include the training of your charge in techniques of self-defense, and to serve as protection to the personage of Lord Grimfaeth."


    "I understand my duties, Masters," Prism said.


    "You will report for evaluation on a quarterly basis, where a review of five Masters will determine if you are to continue to serve the Order and Lord Grimfaeth in this assignment," Master Jovun said.


    "I understand, Masters," Prism replied solemnly.


    "Report to the Duke''s palace immediately," Master Jovun added.


    Prism rose to his feet and bowed to the council. "Thank you, Master Jovun."


    He turned on his heel and descended the steps, walking straight to his room to pack his few belongings. One life had ended and another had begun, and he mourned them both.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism walked to Kobinaru, which took him the better part of the day. Despite the length of the journey, his months of training and the ease of the terrain made it simple. Barely a bead of sweat graced his skin when he arrived at the Northern gates of the city wall.


    A familiar face surprised him, though it took him a moment to remember the Captain''s name. Captain Tson, who commanded the soldiers who captured him when Boggi brought him to Kobinaru almost a year earlier, had transferred to the Northern gates.


    As Prism neared the checkpoint, he readied the sealed letter he''d received from Grandmaster Valkean at the gates of the Temple. Captain Tson watched him approach, wearing an amused smirk. "Well, well . . ." he said, sizing up Prism with his gaze. "I didn''t expect to see you back here. Has it been a year already? By my accounts, Spring had already hit when we met."


    Prism bowed to Captain Tson and handed him the letter. "Captain Tson. Grandmaster Valkean directed me to report to this checkpoint to give my credentials."


    Captain Tson opened the letter and reviewed its contents, his eyes widening with each word. "Official order from Duke Selfaeth requesting your presence . . ." he let out a bewildered sigh and said, "Very well. If the Duke has ordered your presence, I cannot stop that."


    "So, I may pass?" Prism asked.


    "We''ll have to search you first," Captain Tson stated.


    The weight of Prism''s recent oaths made him take a step back as he said, "I have taken my monk oaths. I''m not allowed to touch anyone."


    "Your oaths do not keep you safe from the law, Junior Master. This would be consistent with your service to the Mountain, as the monks believe in the protection of society, and laws are a significant part of that protection," Captain Tson said. "I will perform the search myself, if that will make you feel better."


    Prism hesitated, then complied with a nod. Captain Tson gestured for him to step away from the road and patted him down. "You don''t care for the Order, do you?" Prism asked after a moment.


    Captain Tson regarded Prism curiously. "What makes you say that?"


    "You argued with Grandmaster Valkean the day we met," Prism said.


    "You were a criminal; my responsibility is to keep criminals off my streets," Captain Tson explained. "Have you not learned about responsibility during your time at the Temple?"


    "I have. I bear the weight of it now more than ever," Prism said.


    "Grandmaster Valkean overstepped his bounds with you when he took you as pardon. You were my prisoner the moment you ran away from your Constable and attacked Lord Grimfaeth. I was the one who could determine your fate. Grandmaster Valkean is allowed a pardon, but state criminals are pardonable only at the discretion of their custodians," Captain Tson said. He stood, having finished his search of Prism''s person and said, "Grandmaster Valkean insisted, and I allowed him to take you."


    "Why?" Prism asked. "It seemed it was against your better judgment."


    "I was a pardon in my youth, and I owe Grandmaster Valkean my trust for the reforms he made in me," Captain Tson replied quietly. "Don''t take it to heart, but based upon your merits as a thief and attempted assassin at the time, I would have sent you away for life if it had been up to me."


    "But now?"


    "You seem different, and clearly the Order has been good for you. Grandmaster Valkean''s instincts are as sharp as ever," Captain Tson replied. "But that doesn''t mean I like you, Prism. If you make one wrong step in my city, I''ll know about it. If you harm the Duke or his family, I will personally ensure you pay for it."


    Prism nodded and said. "I understand."


    "Will you need a guide to the palace? I would hate to keep the Duke waiting because I let you get lost."


    "No. I can find my own way."


    Captain Tson smiled politely and beckoned him through the gate. "Very well. Welcome to Kobinaru."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    The soldiers guarding the Duke were expecting Prism when he arrived, and they allowed him to enter with little fanfare. Prism was escorted to the Duke''s study by a pair of soldiers, who never took their hands off their weapons.


    His training kept him calm, but also allowed him to pick up on the unease spread throughout the palace staff. Soldier and servant alike darted nervous glances his way, both at him and his assigned soldiers. Here, more than ever before, Prism understood the growing uncertainty in the world.


    Kaeral spoke of it often, but the Temple had kept Prism sheltered enough to avoid it. He could no longer do so. These people were as terrified as were the young men who''d joined the Order to escape the threat of war.


    Prism entered the Duke''s study at the instruction of one of the two guards standing beside the door, who announced his presence as Prism stepped inside, "Junior Master Prism, of the Order of the Mountain, reporting as summoned."


    As the door closed after him, Prism bowed low to the Duke, who had stood from his desk to greet him. "Master Prism, you do not need to bow low to me. I don''t stand on ceremony." Duke Selfaeth said, coming around the desk to stand before Prism. "I wanted to speak to you before you see my son, so thank you for coming."


    "Of course, Duke Selfaeth," Prism said as he straightened.


    The Duke smiled politely and gestured to the chair in front of his desk before retaking his own. "I will speak freely here and trust you to do the same," the Duke said and waited for Prism to nod in agreement. "You are in love with my son?"


    Prism sucked in his breath. "That is a dangerous question, Duke Selfaeth."


    "Dangerous for you, but not for me," Duke Selfaeth said, folding his hands over his chest, his index fingers tapping against each other. "There are no humans here but you, so you needn''t fear any form of reprisal. Now, please answer the question, are you in love with my son?"


    Prism hesitated. Only honesty would serve him here. "Yes."


    "But you are Junior Master of the Order now. You''ve sworn your monk oaths. I assume that was a condition for the Masters to allow you to come here," Duke Selfaeth said.


    "That is correct."


    "Do you have any intention of violating that Oath?"


    "No, Duke Selfaeth."


    Duke Selfaeth nodded. "Even if I told you I would protect you and your relationship with my son?"


    "No, Duke Selfaeth. I would not violate my oaths for any reason, until my sentence is up," Prism answered. "Though I am perplexed you would support such an action."


    The Duke grinned wide and said, "I wouldn''t. That was a test. While I do support my son''s attraction to you, and yours to him, in these troubled times I can only afford to have people I can trust reside within my home, and to stay around my family." His smile faltered as his eyes grew serious once again. "If you''d been willing to give up your oaths, even with the promise of protection, I would''ve sent you back to the temple and told them I''d changed my mind."


    "I love Grim," Prism replied immediately. "I would not do anything to jeopardize our future together."


    Conflict crossed the Duke''s face before a fond smile replaced it. "You believe you have a future together?"


    "I can only hope for such a world," Prism said.


    Duke Selfaeth closed his eyes, chuckling almost imperceptibly before he looked at Prism again. Moisture drowned the Duke''s piercing gaze as he said, "I ask you to take an additional oath, Master Prism. Will you vow to protect my son at all costs, even unto the sacrifice of your own life?"


    "I have already sworn this vow within my heart," Prism said. "I will defend him to my dying breath, and I will always seek to save him, unless he himself releases me from that duty."


    Duke Selfaeth nodded in thanks. "Master Prism, there are people within my own household whom I cannot trust. Unfortunately, I do not know who they are, so I must distrust almost all of them. I need you to be vigilant. I am counting on you to keep my son safe," he said. Pausing for several breaths, he continued, "May I ask a request, in addition to the vow?"


    "Why a request instead of a second vow?"


    "Because I do not wish to compel you to something beyond your duties, to either your Order or to yourself," Duke Selfaeth explained. "My daughter may also require protection, from threats I do not yet perceive. She is strong, and already has her protectors, but I would consider her safer with you looking out for her as well. Will you please protect them both?"


    Prism bowed his head in respect and said, "I am already sworn by the oaths I hold sacred to protect the innocent. Your daughter is already in my charge."


    Duke Selfaeth rose to his feet and said, "Then you are welcome here. I will have someone take you to your quarters."


    "Thank you, Duke Selfaeth," Prism said, rising as well and bowing once more. "I am honored to be here."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 11: Haunting Devotion

    Grim wanted to fire Sharis. Prism had arrived an hour ago, and Sharis had kept the information to himself to ensure it did not interrupt their lesson. Grim understood the tutor''s decision, especially since Sharis had no idea how important Prism''s presence was, but it still annoyed Grim.


    But his excitement overrode any negativity, and Grim struggled to contain himself as he headed toward his rooms. Prism would be waiting for him, four months of separation would be over, and they could now spend the rest of their time together.


    He opened the door without bothering to announce his presence. Prism stood in front of the unlit fireplace, appreciating a large portrait of Grim done a few years earlier, at Grim''s twelfth naming day. Prism turned at the door opening, smiling as Grim dashed toward him.


    "Prism, you''re here!" Grim shouted, embracing Prism hard and fast, pressing the bodies together with all the energy in his body. Prism did not reciprocate, and Grim pulled back, staring at him in confusion.


    "What''s wrong, why aren''t you¡ª" Grim dropped the embrace immediately, his hands covering his mouth at the discomfort in Prism''s eyes. "Oh no . . . they made you swear the oaths, didn''t they?"


    "Yes," Prism gasped, then continued with heavy breaths, his whole body twitching. "And you don''t know how difficult it is for me right now to resist taking you in my arms."


    "Blood . . ." Grim said, horrified at his lack of perception. "I''m so sorry. I''ll contain myself. We''ll figure it out." He stepped back, compelling his hands to remain at his sides, though they clenched and unclenched rapidly as he fought to keep them from reaching for Prism.


    Prism coughed awkwardly at Grim''s fidgeting, turning from him to look around the room. His gaze took him past the three chairs sitting around a simple table, the fireplace and the portrait, the wardrobe in the corner, and the door which led into Grim''s bedchamber. Prism''s gaze pointedly avoided the large bed resting beneath the window.


    "You''re in my room," Prism said, still avoiding Grim''s gaze. "I''d have expected to be summoned to yours."


    "Actually, you''re in mine. You were told to wait here, right? That I''d be coming?" Grim said.


    Prism nodded. "Yes. But we''re both sleeping in here? That''s . . ." he gulped and met Grim''s eyes at last, "that''s incredibly dangerous."


    Grim walked over to the door which led to his bedroom and opened it, giving Prism a view into the much more spacious and opulent room. "This palace is over three hundred years old. Originally, the principal servant for whichever noble child occupied the main quarters would live here, as they were expected to be available at all times. My mother put a swift stop to that archaic practice, making it clear her children would never need constant service. My father agreed." He gestured around their current room and said, "But that means these quarters have remained empty my entire life, so it was about time someone put them to use. I had them cleaned in anticipation of your arrival."


    "The only thing separating us will be a single door, which I can enter through at any point?" Prism said. "Sharing the same room would''ve been impossible, I think, but this is still going to be more difficult than I thought." Prism smiled helplessly and walked over to a chair, collapsing into it.


    "Tempted already?" Grim asked with a frustrated laugh, taking another chair and assuming an equally casual position. Prism''s robes parted enough to reveal his dark skin above his ankle. Memories of a dance of limbs came crashing back to Grim, for the last time he''d seen that ankle his lips had caressed it as they moved up Prism''s leg. Grim''s body responded to the memory, and Grim shifted his position to hide his arousal.


    "The next nine or nineteen years are going to be agony, but at least they''ll be spent with you," Prism said, drawing Grim from his thoughts. He found Prism staring at him, wearing an embarrassed grin.


    "Nineteen . . . that''s a scary thought, isn''t it?" Grim said, groaning. "I guess we''ll have to be perfect so your sentence can be renegotiated."


    "If we''re not perfect, if we do a single thing wrong, I''ll be removed from your service," Prism said gravely, "and I can guarantee Master Vinh will prevent me from renegotiating my sentence if that happens."


    "Master Vinh is against you now?" Grim said, bolting upright at this unsettling news. "Why?"


    "He believes I should feel remorseful for the day I spent in Kobinaru four months ago," Prism said. His smile made Grim''s heart dance as he added softly, "How could I be remorseful of that?"


    Grim forgot all social propriety and adjusted his crotch through his pants. Horrified by what he''d done, he looked at Prism''s tortured face and said. "Oh, this is going to be so hard." He forced his hands to the arms of the chair and dug his fingers into the fabric. "But we''ll make it through. We''ll just have to find other forms of release . . . Are you allowed to, you know . . ." unable to say the words, he raised one hand and curled his fingers, moving it up and down in the air.


    Prism sighed and shook his head, saying, "Only nocturnal emissions, no masturbation is allowed, either." He chuckled helplessly and added, "Though I know many of the masters indulge on occasion. You occasionally witness . . . things."


    "Well, the image of some of those masters doing that at least helps kill the mood," Grim said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. He immediately caught Prism staring at his open mouth, and blushed.


    "Can we stop talking about sex?" Prism said weakly.


    "Yes," Grim said, though several fantasies involving teasing Prism''s weakness flew through his mind. He gritted his teeth and forced his way through the tension. "Definitely. Can you tell me about your childhood? What''s it like in the Dorram?"


    "We''re finally getting to know each other, huh?" Prism asked, glad for the mundane question.


    Grim nodded and said, "I never needed it to know who you could be, but I''ve wanted to know more since I met you."


    Prism smiled and answered the question. "The Dorram is hot, since it rests on the equator. I''d never experienced cold until I came this far South. The coldest thing I''d ever known was the river near my last village, Choballa, and we''d bathe there during summer. I didn''t have many friends, as the man who raised me liked to move around a lot, so I can''t say I had a normal childhood, but I did get some chances to experience a lot of different places in the Dorram."


    As he listened, Grim found the sexual tension easier to bear. His desire to connect physically subsided through the emotional connection established by Prism''s history. Since he couldn''t relieve his physical urges, he hungered for more details and asked a follow-up question. "The man who raised you? What about your family?"


    "Hey now, I think it''s my turn to ask a question," Prism said. "That''s only fair, isn''t it?"


    Grim grinned, glad Prism was willing to state his mind. "All right. What would you like to know?" He asked.


    "I met your father, but what''s your mother like? Do I get to meet her?" Prism asked. "Is she as charming as your father?"


    Sadness seeped into Grim''s smile, and he answered Prism''s question with his own. "You don''t study history, do you?"


    "It''s not my best subject, no," Prism replied. "I find it interesting, but it''s never been a part of my curriculum."


    "We''ll have to change that," Grim said. "It''s one of my favorite subjects, even when it''s painful."


    Prism''s eyes lit up with understanding. "Your mother isn''t around anymore, is she?" he asked gently.


    Grim shook his head. "No. She died when I was young."


    "Mine, too," Prism said.


    Grim nodded, and they shared a moment of pure empathy before Grim explained, "Duchess Casthene, my mother, was lovely, and I still consider her the greatest woman I''ve ever known, despite knowing many other wonderful women. She stood up for what she believed in, no matter what. If that meant speaking up for people at some stuffy nobleman''s party, she did so. She was a commoner, the daughter of the shoemaker who made my father''s favorite boots. She charmed him instantly, and after they married, they had a son together, Seldorym, who charmed her back more than my father ever could." Grim''s eyes moistened with each word, and though he smiled fondly at the memory of his mother, tears streamed down his cheeks as he relived the pain of separation. "You don''t get to meet her because they both died in an accident when I was young. My brother was six years older than me, and he was my best friend."


    Prism''s gaze never left Grim''s, and he, too, shed tears of empathy for his love. "I wish you hadn''t gone through that, and I wish I had the words to make it better, but I''m sure they don''t exist," he said.


    "Prism . . ." Grim began, but the pure love in Prism''s eyes stopped him. A similar look had regarded him a thousand times before, and he had neglected to appreciate the source. He stood on shaky knees and said, "I . . . I need to go, but when I get back, can we resume this conversation, please?"


    "Of course," Prism said, standing and regarding Grim with obvious concern.


    "Thank you," Grim said, nodding appreciatively. "I don''t know how long I''ll be, but . . . I think I''ll be back soon."


    Prism nodded and Grim walked to the door, opening it and stepping into the hall. He leaned against the door once it closed behind him, breathing heavily as he regained some of his composure.


    With emotion weighing every step, he made the short trek to his father''s study and knocked on the door. At his father''s invitation, he entered and said shakily, "F-father?"


    Duke Selfaeth glanced up briefly from the work in front of him and said, "Grimfaeth. Do you need something?"


    "Father . . ." Grim said, then closed the distance between them, collapsing against his father''s chest and sobbing. He hated himself for the vulnerability but hated himself more for everything which had led to this moment. "I''m sorry. I''m so sorry."The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "It''s okay, Grim," Duke Selfaeth said, wrapping his arms around his son and cradling him against his chest. He shushed Grim with a soothing whisper, kissing his forehead. "It''s okay. What happened?"


    "What happened?" Grim asked, bitterly choking back his tears. "My mother and brother died, and you took care of us, and never stopped loving us, and you continued to be a father despite the stress of your position and our country being at war. You''re amazing, and I rewarded you by being the worst son . . ." He stopped as a sob obliterated his next words, then admitted with a frustrated growl, "I made you sick with worry, time and time again, with my recklessness."


    Duke Selfaeth kissed his son''s forehead again and said, "Grim, I never minded you being true to yourself, I just minded that you weren''t careful. Every father expects their children to go out into the world eventually, and every father dreads it. I promised myself I would never stop you from exploring. Sometimes I wasn''t so good at that, and I always worried, but . . ." He choked back a sob and said, "You are my son. You will always be my son, and I will never stop loving you and protecting you, even when you''re out in the world."


    Grim fidgeted with a button on his father''s coat as he considered his father''s words. He regained control of his emotions, but he had one more important thing to say. "Thank you, for letting me bring Prism here. It''s nice to have him home."


    Duke Selfaeth hesitated. "You know you can''t make love to him, right?"


    Grim closed his eyes and said softly, "Yes."


    "You can''t even tempt him. Giving in will destroy him," Duke Selfaeth said. "That boy has so much integrity, I think he''d turn himself in, and that means he''d be taken from you. I don''t want that fate for either of you."


    "I know," Grim replied.


    Duke Selfaeth hugged his son tightly again and said, "All your recklessness has brought you here, but now it''s time for you to be careful, to make every step both measured and calculated. You will need every ounce of courtly discipline to succeed. I believe you can do it."


    "Thank you, Father," Grim said, sighing contentedly and pressing into his father''s chest. "I''m so glad I have you here." Duke Selfaeth tensed, and Grim pulled back abruptly. "Wait, what''s wrong?"


    Duke Selfaeth sighed and motioned for Grim to give him room. Grim slipped to the floor and the Duke stood, pacing the small area behind his chair as Grim slipped into the chair in front of the desk. "Veil will be in charge for the next few months. I have to go back to Xarin," Duke Selfaeth said after a moment. "King Hashayne has called a war council. It could be a long time before I return . . ." he trailed off, his voice thick with emotion.


    "Is the ceasefire ending?" Grim asked, his heart sinking at his father''s worry.


    "Most likely within the next six months," Duke Selfaeth replied. "However, Neredos of Oligan is willing to give us the necessary information to disable Oligan''s new weaponry, if we can assure him we won''t use it to invade Oligan in return. With any luck, we can end this war without tremendous bloodshed, but we''ll be in negotiations with his representative until we can come to an agreement."


    "Is Oligan aware of this agreement?" Grim asked. "I would assume not, or they''d speed up their timetable and strike first."


    The Duke shook his head. "Not yet. Neredos is sending a Gor to represent his position, masquerading as a representative of one of the Northern Gor tribes so Oligan won''t be the wiser. We''re hoping they''ll think we''re trying to form a trade agreement with the Gor instead. Such an agreement wouldn''t give us much of a military advantage, after all."


    "And so you''ll be assisting in negotiations. Since you''re fluent in three different Gor dialects, one of which is the one spoken by the delegate?" Grim surmised.


    "That''s right," Duke Selfaeth replied, meeting his son''s eyes. "I''ll be heading the team."


    Grim smiled, but it didn''t reach his eyes. He didn''t like the news of his father leaving, at all. "There''s no better man for the job," he said confidently, while his stomach tied itself into knots of worry.


    "Thank you for the confidence," Duke Selfaeth said. "I want this to end peacefully."


    Grim eyed the wine bottle in the corner of the room and pleaded, "Leave the wine at home. Please?"


    Duke Selfaeth''s smile broke and he said, "I actually haven''t had a drink since that day. I guess I''m not the greatest father, either."


    "Nonsense," Grim said, delighted by his father''s sobriety. "You''re the best a boy could ask for." He stood again and walked to his father, embracing him again and holding it. He wouldn''t have another chance for a long time.


    After shedding more tears, the two parted, and Grim moved to leave the room, but stopped when his father said his name. "Grim?"


    "Yes?"


    "I like Prism," Duke Selfaeth said warmly. "Your mother would''ve approved, too."


    Grim smiled appreciatively. "I love him," he stated.


    "I know," the Duke replied. "And that should''ve been enough even without me meeting him. I''ll trust you, and your judgment from here on out."


    Grim grinned. "And I''ll try and do the same. Will you let me know before you leave for Xarin?"


    The Duke nodded. "Of course."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism paced every corner of the room, inspecting every detail of the art and furnishings just to occupy his overactive mind. When Grim opened the door and stepped inside again, his mind focused immediately on his lover''s tear-streaked cheeks.


    "Are you okay, Grim?" Prism asked. He took a step toward him, arms raised and ready to crush him in an embrace before his oaths compelled him to stop.


    "No," Grim said. "My father is leaving."


    "What for?" Prism asked.


    Grim sighed and said, "I can''t tell you."


    "It''s a secret?"


    "It has to be," Grim replied. "My father checks his study for surveillance devices every time he enters the room, but I''m not so careful. There could be something in here, and I can''t risk betraying the information he entrusted to me."


    "I understand," Prism replied. "Do you want to resume our conversation?"


    "No, I want to make mad ravenous love to you so I forget about my father leaving," Grim said, smirking.


    Prism exhaled sharply and said, "Just putting it out there, I see."


    "Oh, I realize I can''t, and that frustrates me," Grim replied. "Train me, Prism. That''s officially why you''re here, isn''t it?"


    "Of course," Prism said, smiling.


    "What do they teach you to do when you want to give into those carnal pleasures?" Grim asked. "If monks aren''t supposed to do it, there must be some way of avoiding it."


    "We spar, we train our bodies, we exercise our minds in meditation," Prism said. Grim nodded, and lifted his shirt, throwing it over the back of a chair. "You''re stripping?" Prism said in alarm.


    "Just my shirt and shoes. Do the same. Lose the robe. You wear a short hakama underneath, don''t you?" Grim said, as he stepped out of his shoes and started on his socks.


    "Very well," Prism said, reaching for the sash which kept his robe tight against his body. "What did you have in mind with this mad idea?"


    "We''re going to have to deal with a lot more than seeing each other shirtless. If we''re going to have to resist temptation, we might as well face it head on," Grim reasoned.


    "What happens if I get tempted?" Prism asked, accepting the logic with a nod. "We should have a plan for that, especially since . . ." his gaze lingered on Grim''s naked torso, and he sighed.


    "You''ll attack me, and I''ll defend myself," Grim replied. "That will allow you to relieve tension."


    "What happens if you get tempted?" Prism asked, throwing his robe back and hanging it over the arm of another of the chairs. "You''re not allowed to attack me, as a Fedain."


    Grim stared openly at Prism''s body, even more lean and toned now than four months ago when they''d met in the city. "I''ll go masturbate," he said without thinking. "Maybe I shouldn''t have said that."


    "No . . . probably not," Prism said, groaning. "But I do like your plan. If it seems like we can''t handle it, we''ll just stop."


    Grim nodded and assumed a defensive posture, his sheer grace and poise sending shivers of arousal through Prism''s body. "Let''s start. Attack me," Grim commanded.


    Prism nodded in determination, beginning with a simple attack stance, coming in with a palm strike at half speed than normal to warm up. Grim caught his wrist and danced to the outside of Prism''s arm, using Prism''s own momentum against him to send him falling forward.


    Although the normal reaction to the maneuver was to roll, Prism''s foot caught on the edge of a throw rug and it disrupted his ability to complete it properly. In all his mental haze over being here with Grim, he''d failed to consider the rug as an obstacle, and he regretted it as his roll left him flat on his back.


    Since Prism had fallen instead of rolling out of the way, Grim followed the maneuver and moved for a joint-locking pin. He leaned into Prism''s body, twisting Prism''s wrist in a way which encouraged him to move onto his back. Grim paused there, meeting Prism''s eyes as the skin to skin contact registered with his senses.


    A familiar tenting rose in Grim''s crotch. He pulled away, practically running to his room as he stammered, "I''ll b-be right b-back . . ."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Ghayle let the memory fade, sensing Prism needed a moment to recover from the vision. She waited for him to speak, studying the human as his breathing returned to normal.


    "The memories are becoming more fluid now," Prism observed. "Sometimes I can''t tell if it''s me or Grim experiencing those moments, it''s like I''m seeing it from both our perspectives."


    "It''s because you''re so close to him, and each time we delve in, you grow even closer," Ghayle explained.


    "Those first months were immensely trying," Prism said. "I can''t believe we survived. The amount of times I nearly broke my vows number in the thousands."


    "It''s amazing how I can show you death and physical pain, but it''s the moments of love which unnerve you most," Ghayle observed.


    "I learned how to endure death and pain at an early age. Heartache is something I''ll never master," Prism admitted, laughing at the absurd thought. "They didn''t teach that at the Temple."


    Ghayle cocked her head to the side, regarding Prism with godlike curiosity, considering the beautifully complex mind of the simple creature before her. "Grim is your biggest regret, isn''t he?"


    "What do you mean?" Prism asked, eyebrows raised as he turned on her. "Do you mean, did I regret loving him, or do you mean, did I regret not loving him enough?"


    "You tell me," Ghayle said.


    Prism sighed, eyes closed as he considered the point. His thoughts unsettled him, so he rose to his feet and paced, letting the thoughts fully form before communicating them to Ghayle. "Part of me knows I should''ve never made love to him in the first place. If I hadn''t known how well we fit together, I would''ve been tempted but I wouldn''t have craved it every single moment of every day," he admitted after a moment. Resuming pacing, he let his mind travel down several different paths, considering each in turn, before trying to pull the thoughts together. "Another part of me wonders why I held so tightly to honor and purity, when my thoughts clouded that purity every single moment of every day. Unlike Grandmaster Valkean, I was not born to be a monk, I simply became one because the world required it of me. I was born to be a thief, the rogue whom Kaeral always saw, and so I stole those tempting glances, and I let lust keep me imprisoned."


    Ghayle smiled, appreciating the conclusions Prism had drawn. "And like a thief, you exploited every crack in your oaths to show your love, because you couldn''t keep it contained."


    Prism nodded, confirming her analogy though he wanted to deny it. As much as he''d lived as a monk his entire life, the thief inside ruled his soul. "Every conversation we had drew me in deeper. His body enthralled me, but at least my oaths did not prevent me from loving his mind. The way he spoke about history and legend, blending them together the way only an adventurous youth can . . ." he sighed wistfully and continued, "grand caverns filled with treasures, ancient ruins he wanted to show me. The first words in any Elrok dialect were spoken to me by an excited Fedain Lord, and I only found out much later that he had terrible pronunciation." He laughed, and Ghayle laughed with him, all too familiar herself with the difficulties of the Elrok languages, though she''d long ago mastered all of them. Prism smiled at her mirth and went on, "I listened to every word he said with rapt attention, because I could lose myself in the light of his eyes and forget that I wasn''t allowed to touch him, at least for a while."


    "Tagren made my soul dance the moment he first stepped out of the water. He looked like a sodden dog, but for some reason that made me smile like I''d never smiled before," Ghayle replied, surprising Prism with her anecdotal wisdom. "Love is a frightening thing, surprising us with a mirror into our own souls. It''s as fickle as a ghost, fleeting in appearance yet haunting us forever until we appease it."


    "Devotion makes you a living ghost, haunting the object of your obsession," Prism said solemnly. "Kaeral said that to me once. Is that a common philosophy among the Gor? Did you teach them that?"


    "It''s a truth as old as the world, as far as I''m concerned," Ghayle said. "But I don''t know who first phrased it in that way."


    Prism nodded, understanding the truth of her statement. But this brought up a new curiosity, and he resumed his position on the log. "Grim was¡ªis¡ªthe only one I''ve ever loved completely. Did you ever love another as much as you loved Tagren?"


    "You mean, other than the world itself?" Ghayle asked.


    Prism smiled. "Yes."


    "There was one," Ghayle admitted. "You''ll find her quite familiar. I''d not intended to show you her, but . . ." she raised her hand to Prism''s face once more and said, "perhaps it is pertinent after all."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 12: Daughters

    Ghayle sensed her coming from a thousand miles away, each step the woman took brought additional strength to Ghayle. She felt the purity emanating from the woman, shining like a beacon through a sea of dark fog.


    As the distance closed between them, Ghayle found herself growing more and more eager. Whoever this mortal was, she had a strength unparalleled among Ghayle''s children. Faith propelled the woman forward, despite a corrupting sickness which had spread through her body.


    In time, the woman reached the mountain itself, and began to climb. Only then did the others take note of her, though they did not sense her purity as Ghayle did. They simply tracked her, unaware of the role she would play.


    "Tagren, there''s a Gor climbing the mountain," Goden said as he reached the shelf. "At least, she smells like a Gor. Something seems off about her."


    "What?" Tagren asked with alarm. "Why?"


    "I don''t know. I didn''t stop to ask her," Goden replied dryly. "I just thought you should know.


    "Is she alone?" Tagren asked.


    Even as Goden nodded in response, Aika closed her eyes and reached out with her lifeforce to seek the woman. "Yes, and struggling," she confirmed. "She''s very weak. I can sense it even from here."


    "She''s no concern of ours right now," Ibrix said. "Not unless she comes here."


    "But it is rather curious, don''t you think? What would a mortal be doing here? The Spring thaw has barely begun. She must be nearly frozen to death," Goden observed.


    "She''s ill. A wasting sickness of some sort," Aika said, opening her eyes at last. "I can''t tell how extensive until I touch her, but I''m certain I could heal it."


    "We can''t afford to care about her unless she makes the climb," Tagren said. "Do you not remember we are sworn to secrecy? We''ll have to determine what that means regarding an intruder. We may have to kill her to protect Ghayle and the ritual."


    "That''s a strange statement, coming from you," Goden observed. "Aren''t you the one who is always trying to protect life?"


    Tagren shook his head. "Not this time. This time, I am committed to the ritual, to Ghayle, and to Khalis'' orders. No one may interfere with this. No one may know about this."


    "But that doesn''t mean we have to kill her," Quay said, joining the conversation at last. She stepped up to Tagren, her hands resting on her hips. "Your problem is that you never acquired the full godly perspective, Tagren. We know how to keep secrets while showing the truth. It''s part of what we do. Khalis'' instructions were clear, and it''s you who is muddying them. The only thing Khalis said we could not reveal was Lord Naxthul''s return. Seems to me we can simply omit that bit."


    "For once Quay speaks wisdom," Nobak said. "Makes a lot of sense to me. You worry too much, Tagren."


    Tagren sighed but trusted his companions'' opinion on the matter. Yet he kept the dagger in his boot in his mind''s eye. He would draw it if needed, and end the woman if instinct told him to do so.


    Ghayle felt it all, wishing she could reach out to Tagren and console him, but she had not yet drawn enough strength from the woman to speak. Each step the woman took, however, brought Ghayle one step closer to escaping her nightmares, if only for a moment.


    The Chosen waited, using the abilities afforded them as extensions of Ghayle''s godhood to remain invisible from mortal sight. They stood to witness the young woman''s arrival as she climbed past the last boulder, her frail form collapsing to the shelf in exhaustion and awe as she took in the sight of Ghayle splayed across the rock.


    "Ghayle?" the woman said, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. "I''ve made it . . ." she gasped, trying to stand and walk toward her goddess, but she stumbled and fell to her knees again. Continuing forward at a crawl, she closed the distance, taking Ghayle''s hand in hers. "You''re here, but . . . what is happening? What is this?" she reached toward the metal stake in Ghayle''s heart her eyes filled with horrified wonder.


    "Don''t . . .!" Tagren said, making himself visible as he dashed toward the woman, catching her arm and holding it steady in the air, poised over the stake. "Don''t touch that."


    The woman tried to pull her arm away, her eyes wide with fright. At this proximity, Ghayle could feel the woman''s pulse as keenly as her own, and her heart thundered in her chest. She finally calmed as Tagren let her go, and she moved several feet away, clutching at her wrist. "Who are you?" the woman asked.


    "My name is Tagren," Tagren said tersely.


    The woman''s eyes widened in astonishment. "Tagren? As in . . . Thalgruen?"


    "Yes . . . that is what the Gor call me in recent times," Tagren replied.


    "You''re real?" The woman asked. "And this is really Ghayle . . ."


    Instead of answering her question, Tagren asked one of his own. "Who are you?"


    "Marhys. Marhys Elrhanadan," the woman replied.


    "That''s a Northern Gor name," Quay said, stepping into the visible realm. "What are you doing here in the South?"


    "My husband is of the Northern tribes, but my home is here," Marhys replied. "I came, as a new mother, seeking the Mother of All. Who are you?"


    "Quay."


    "Quay . . ." Marhys shook her head. "Your name is also familiar to me, but I can''t remember why. Have I stumbled upon the home of the gods?"


    "Home?" Quay laughed. "No . . . none of us would choose to live here, except maybe the brothers." She nodded toward the Elrok brothers as they made themselves known to Marhys.


    "What is going on here?" Marhys asked.


    "We cannot tell you. You should not be here," Tagren said urgently.


    Drawing on Marhys'' purity, Ghayle forced a sound to escape her long disused throat. "Let . . . her . . . stay."


    "Ghayle!" Tagren said, forgetting Marhys to turn toward his lover. He took her hand and stared lovingly into her eyes, glad for some response from her at last. Ghayle spared him all the time she could, squeezing his hand weakly before turning to Marhys.


    "Come here, Marhys," she said. "Let me feel your touch."


    "Ghayle . . ." Marhys said as she resumed her position by Ghayle''s side, taking her other hand. "I am humbled by your invitation."


    "There is something wrong. You''re ill. You''ve come a long way despite your sickness," Ghayle stated more than asked. She could sense everything about Marhys now, from her broken body to her faithful soul.


    "Yes," Marhys replied.


    "And you''ve been with child recently," Ghayle said. "You said you are a new mother? You''ve come for the ancient rite?"


    "Yes," Marhys answered.


    Ghayle smiled, her first in over a year. "No one has sought me so diligently in centuries. What drove you here?"


    "The world has lost its way, my people have forgotten their heritage, both the Gor and Incarian no longer honor their ancient traditions," Marhys explained, her eyes filling with tears even as a hopeful smile graced her face. "My mother died in childbirth, but my father taught me her ways, filled my head with stories about Gor traditions. He called them myths and folklore, but after he died I went searching for meaning, and found it in those ancient stories."


    "And that led you here, guided by instinct," Ghayle observed. She squeezed Marhys'' hand as strongly as she could and said, "You are welcome here, Marhys."


    Tears rolled down Marhys'' cheeks as she said, "Is there anything I can do for you? I can sense your pain, Mother."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "You have already lessened my pain, simply by seeking me," Ghayle replied. "I must reward you for that. Traditionally, a reward of safety and protection for your family is in order."


    "I only ask to serve you, as daughters have served mothers and mothers have served daughters since the dawn of time," Marhys said bowing her head humbly as she lifted Ghayle''s hand and held it tightly to her breast.


    "I freely give the gift of protection to your family, Daughter," Ghayle said. "You are pure of heart, and your child deserves a chance to live in this world. Your line will continue, through the end of this Trial the world endures."


    "Trial, Mother?" Marhys asked.


    "You will be among the Chosen, I can sense that in you, but I cannot tell you yet," Ghayle replied. "You will become an extension of me in this world, lingering on for as long as I persist. I will reward you with a great boon for your lineage, oh Warrior of the Wilds." She looked away from Marhys'' long enough to call out, "Ibrix!"


    Ibrix assumed his place next to Tagren, placing a calming hand on his old friend''s shoulder even as he looked at Ghayle. "Yes, Ghayle?"


    "Did you bring your tools with you?" Ghayle asked.


    "Of course, Ghayle," Ibrix replied.


    "Find the purest Azramel, and make the finest blade you''ve ever made," Ghayle said. "Nobak," she called out next. The Elrok approached Ghayle and stood at her feet. "Bind her blood and soul to the blade, that she may live on in it when her body fails her. Bind my blood to the blade, that her soul may entwine with mine," Ghayle said.


    "We will abide your will, Ghayle," Nobak said, placing his hands before him, left hand fingers curled into his right palm as he bowed toward her.


    "Aye, that we will," Ibrix said, nodding to Nobak. "Come on, stoneface, let''s get to work. Where can I find some Azramel around here?"


    "The head of the hammer which drove the stake into Ghayle should suffice," Tagren offered. "The haft is made from Ebrani, so it should work for the hilt of the blade as well. You''ll find it among my belongings."


    "Aye, you''ve an eye for quality if I''ve ever seen one, Tagren," Ibrix said. He nodded to Ghayle and added with a sad smile, "I''ll set to work right away."


    "Anything to make Ghayle happy," Tagren said neutrally.


    "Tagren," Ghayle said. "I''d like you to take care of Marhys. I will not be able to speak to her for much longer. Even with the strength I can draw from her purity, I am slipping back into the pain."


    "I understand," Tagren replied. "Is there anything I can do for you?"


    "Nothing you have not done already, dear one," Ghayle said fondly. "I wish I could stay and speak with you a while longer."


    Tagren''s eyes welled up with tears as he said, "We will have time beyond the gate together, when the Trial ends."


    "Yes," Ghayle agreed. "For eternity beyond the gate." She let him go, and regarded Marhys one more time with the gaze of a mother staring at her newborn babe. "Daughter, go with Tagren, he will see to your comfort."


    And then Ghayle let go, succumbing once more to the corruption which surrounded her. She remained able to listen, able to experience the world through her Chosen who surrounded her. Tagren helped Marhys to her feet and guided her away from the shelf of rock, intending to follow Ghayle''s words to the letter.


    As they passed Aika, the Fedain made herself known to Marhys by first allowing her cat to manifest, then coming up behind it, stroking the beast''s head. "You have need of healing. I can sense great sickness in you. Let me preserve you," she said.


    "No, thank you," Marhys replied. "I will die at my appointed time. I have no wish to interfere with the death of my body."


    Aika''s eyes widened for a moment, but she nodded, smiled peacefully, and said, "Very well."


    "Are you . . . Aika?" Marhys'' asked.


    "That''s correct," Aika said with surprise.


    "Kaeral speaks of you at times. We''ve exchanged many stories of our tribes. He once compared my beauty to yours," Marhys said. She blushed and bowed. "I see now he was mistaken, for you are far more beautiful than me."


    "What a charming young woman," Quay said as she joined them. "Is she trying to sleep with a god?"


    "I don''t claim that lofty title, Quay. I prefer to remain Chosen, not god," Aika said.


    "And Ibrix . . ." Marhys said cautiously, "is he not . . . Hundrog, the blacksmith?"


    "You know your gods. That''s rare these days," Quay said.


    "Chosen," Aika corrected.


    "Not in her mind," Quay said, biting her lip as she looked over Marhys again. "Look at her, all venerating and cute."


    "You''re not sleeping with her, Quay," Aika said, groaning. "Stop trying."


    The two continued to argue as Tagren used the opportunity to lead Marhys away. Now that Ghayle had accepted her, he was far less anxious about her presence, and wished to show her his best hospitality.


    "May I get you something to eat or drink?" he asked once they''d moved far enough away from Quay and Aika to speak over their bickering.


    "Yes, I''m feeling weak," Marhys said. "I am no longer able to endure long trips without rest or sustenance as I could in my youth."


    "You made it all the way up this mountain, you must be exhausted," Tagren observed, changing course to take her toward his personal camp on the mountainside.


    "I am dying," Marhys said, chuckling. "It comes with the territory."


    Tagren smirked at that and said, "No wonder Ghayle likes you. You see humor in death."


    Marhys shrugged and replied, "I was taught my whole life that death is a cycle. I believe I''ll live again, either in this world or some other."


    "I share your belief, though most do not anymore," Tagren said. They reached his tent, and he set her on a boulder as he fished around for a wineskin. It would wet her throat at least until he could get her some water from the stream a mile below them. "Your courage is admirable."


    "Life, too, is a cycle, full of as many mountains and valleys as any great journey. The view from low places differs from the high places, but each can be appreciated for its distinct beauty," Marhys said.


    "That''s an unusual bit of wisdom," Tagren said, smiling in approval, as Marhys took a drink.


    "From my husband," Marhys explained. "He learned it from the Order of the Mountain."


    "A wise man to learn from wise men," Tagren said.


    "Who are you, Thalgruen?" Marhys asked, regarding him quizzically. "You are close to Ghayle, and keep company with gods, but the only mention of you in the myths are that you are a companion to Ghayle."


    "She protects my identity, because I never wished to be worshipped or venerated," Tagren said, sighing. "Though I, too, am among the immortals who serve Ghayle. I am her husband."


    "Tell me about her," Marhys requested.


    "What would you like to know?"


    Marhys'' eyes lit up with at the potential of that question. "Everything."


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Tagren sat at the edge of the rock, keeping an eye on Ghayle but less worried than usual. Marhys sat next to Ghayle, content to spend her remaining waking hours next to her goddess and hold her hand, offering Ghayle some comfort in the misery she endured.


    At least Ghayle had someone other than him, who was willing to watch over her, who would put Ghayle''s needs above her own at all times. Though his companions among the Chosen had lessened his anxieties some, it was Marhys who made him feel less alone.


    The flutter of wings drew his attention westward, to Khalis'' familiar form in the sky. He stood to greet the god properly, bowing as Khalis landed and shifted back to his Sendar form.


    "Khalis, you''re back." Tagren said, when Khalis lifted him from his bow.


    Khalis smiled, but then his eyes immediately turned toward Ghayle and Marhys as he said, "Strange . . . to find such purity here."


    "What?" Tagren asked. "What do you mean?"


    Khalis pointed to Marhys'' and said, "Her. She will suffice. Her essence will contribute, in the name of Cyclicity." He took a step toward her, his fingers elongating into cruelly sharp claws. "I need to cut something out of her."


    "She''s with Ghayle," Tagren said, catching Khalis'' arm and stopping his approach. "May she keep her for a little while longer? Ghayle is waiting for Ibrix and Nobak to complete a sacred ritual on her behalf."


    "I am compelled to seek the purities, and I cannot stave off the urge for long," Khalis said, retracting his claws though his eyes remained on the woman.


    "Marhys has honored ancient traditions to come to us, Khalis," Tagren said. "She deserves to be honored in turn."


    Khalis sighed and turned toward Tagren again at last. "While we wait, I have two more ingredients to deliver to you. Both came to me in Oligan. Spittle of a rebel, the purity of movement." He opened a slit in his skin and drew from it a crumpled rag, stashed within a bottle.


    Tagren took the bottle and raised it toward the sun, eyeing it with curiosity. "Interesting."


    "And the cerebrum of twin psychics, the purity of connection," Khalis said, opening a slit on the other side of his body and withdrawing a jar, filled with two human brains. As soon as Tagren took the large jar, Tagren turned back toward Marhys'' and asked, "May I take her now?"


    "Khalis . . ." Tagren said. "Wait, please?"


    Khalis growled and said, "I''ve been across this whole world. Purity is a fleeting thing. If I do not harvest it when I come across it, I am often too late, and it becomes corrupted by the state of the world."


    Ghayle sensed something inching toward her but could not determine its source. This puzzled her, for Tagren argued with Khalis about Marhys'' fate and yet neither made any move to approach her. Had a change had occurred in the gate? Had the ritual neared completion? The presence felt as unknowable as Khalis, as alien as any force beyond the veil of life.


    "Mother!" Marhys said sharply, squeezing her hand with sudden pressure as her pulse quickened in fear. "Mother, something is inside of me!"


    And Ghayle could feel it through her, something sliding in from below, a tentacle slicing and pulling as it ripped Marhys open and took out what it desired. Marhys collapsed against Ghayle''s chest as the tentacle receded, returning to its master.


    Ghayle feared for her daughter, as Marhys bled from her groin, her strength and lifeforce fading quickly. Ghayle could not speak, and Marhys'' willingness to die at her appointed time kept her from crying out for help.


    And then she felt Tagren''s horror, and switched a part of her mind to him as Khalis lifted a bloodied tentacle extending from the base of his morphic body, two extracted ovaries hanging from its clutches. "The purity of Cyclicity," Khalis said, dropping the ovaries into Tagren''s hand. "Only two ingredients remain. Await my return, and we will perform the ritual."


    He shifted into a bird and flew away, leaving Tagren dumbstruck and disgusted as he slipped the ovaries into the jar with the brains. It took him only a moment to process what had happened, and he glanced over at Marhys'', who had collapsed over Ghayle''s chest, blood pooling on the stone beneath her.


    "Aika!" Tagren shouted as he rushed to Marhys'' side. "Aika, I need you!"


    "Do not . . . heal me," Marhys said. "I will take my place in the cycle."


    Aika rushed forward on the back of her cat, dismounting as she approached Tagren''s position. "This isn''t good, Tagren. She''ll be dead in minutes with this much bleeding. What happened?"


    "Khalis," Tagren said bitterly. "Apparently he needed something from her and refused to wait. Why aren''t you healing her?"


    "I know her mind on this, Tagren," Aika said. "It is against my vows to heal an unwilling subject."


    "But Ghayle needs her!" Tagren insisted.


    Ghayle summoned all her strength to catch Tagren''s arm and say, "No. The blood. Keep the blood."


    Tagren and Aika shared a look, and both called to the shaman. "Nobak! We need you!"


    In the final moments of Marhys'' life, she lay in the presence of gods, and could not be happier for a life spent in service to her truest self. Though it would not be the end for her, Ghayle still wept through her nightmares for the loss of her most precious daughter.

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 13: Distance

    "I can see why she had that effect on you. She was a remarkable woman. I''d not realized you were the one who put her into that sword," Prism said. "Kirra doesn''t have the faintest clue what treasure he possesses."


    "I promised to protect her children to the end. Unfortunately, their family has a tendency to die young," Ghayle said, sighing. "Despite my best efforts, their line is far too reckless."


    "Reckless and pious blood mixed together. Zealots of their own natures," Prism said, chuckling at recent memories. "It''s amazing how I can see Kirra''s ancient ancestors in him now. Styx is a lucky man."


    "It''s interesting, isn''t it?" Ghayle asked. "How people can still be considered lucky when demons walk the world. How love can still rule in the face of total destruction?"


    "Yes. It''s interesting, but not surprising," Prism replied. "There was always good in the world. There are always people worth saving, and people who can rise up and change things. Even against overwhelming odds."


    Ghayle smiled. "Exactly."


    Prism shook his head. "You and I speak of two different things. I''m saying the world could''ve been saved. You tried to destroy it."


    "I had to, to remind the world of its greatness," Ghayle said.


    "Had to . . ." Prism mused. "Because it''s all a cycle? Because you''re compelled by history?"


    "No. Because history eventually repeats itself," Ghayle said, "if you wait long enough."


    Prism smirked. "I never cared much for history."


    Ghayle laughed, her eyes dancing as she reached back into Prism''s memories. "That''s not entirely true, is it?"


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Prism and Grim walked into Grim''s rooms and collapsed on opposite ends of a short couch. Shirtless and sweaty, they kept only a foot of distance between them as they collected themselves after their long spar.


    "That was a good session," Grim said between gasps for air. Sparring had relieved him in many ways, especially the last quarter, which Prism was quick to point out.


    "Yes, you made it most of the way through our allotted time before you ran away to take care of your . . ." Prism glanced at Grim''s crotch and grinned, "problem."


    Grim grunted and stuck out his tongue at Prism before responding to the teasing. "Hey, just because you''re able to resist so easily, you stonehearted bastard."


    Prism laughed. "I like it when you get mean," he said, his voice low and sultry, "It''s so un-Fedain."


    Despite the flirtatious nature of the teasing, this remark hit home more than Grim liked, and he replied before he thought through his response, "Yeah, but my biology isn''t. You know the reason I have a hard time is because you''re essentially a drug to my system, right?"


    Prism sighed and nodded. "Yes. I''m sorry, I shouldn''t have teased you."


    "I know," Grim said leaning his head back and letting out a long exhalation to vent his frustration. "We keep getting at each other, don''t we?"


    "It''s probably just something we started in the hopes it would make it easier to resist," Prism said.


    "Has it been working for you?" Grim asked, snickering at the unlikely thought.


    "No. It''s actually having the opposite effect," Prism admitted, joining in on Grim''s laughter, "but the longer we''re together, the better I''m getting at resisting you overall."


    "I know what you mean," Grim said. "Maybe when the rest of your sentence is up, I won''t even want to have sex with you anymore."


    Prism snorted. "That''s absurd, and you know it."


    "You''re right, we''re going to make love every day. Probably multiple times," Grim replied. Both laughed heartily at that. There was no use resisting reality, and they''d learned to be positive about their situation.


    Of course, in Grim''s mind, that only meant Prism smiled more often, which meant he had more fuel for his fantasies, both during their training sessions and long after. Now, at least, he was too tired for either.


    "I''m glad we can laugh about it now," Prism said. "It''s been tense for a while."


    "You''re telling me!" Grim exclaimed. "During some of those early nights I considered moving my furniture in front of the door between our rooms, so even if tempted, I wouldn''t visit you at night."


    "Did you ever?" Prism asked, grinning. "I did."


    Grim laughed and stood, walking toward the cupboard and cooling cabinet in the corner. "Would you like something refreshing to drink?"


    "Only water, please," Prism replied, standing as well and walking to an open spot. Stretching now in his customary post-workout routine, he waited for Grim to return with a glass bottle before speaking again. "You should be joining me, you know."


    Grim looked Prism up and down, his eyes flashing as he set the bottle on a nearby table. "Can''t I just watch?"


    Prism chuckled and continued stretching. Grim watched shamelessly for a minute, but as soon as his body reacted, his mistake became apparent. Embarrassed, he took a place next to Prism and mimicked the stretches, hoping it would take his mind off running somewhere private to address his arousal.


    To his surprise, it did, and Grim couldn''t be happier. For all the jokes they made, Grim wanted to match Prism''s dedication. Not because he saw anything wrong with masturbation, but because it was unfair to Prism that only one of them could release their sexual tension. Grim appreciated Prism''s sacrifice and wanted to repay it to the best of his ability.


    After ten minutes, Prism stopped stretching. Grim continued without him, finishing the routine with the stretches Prism had started with, and Prism nodded in approval before walking away. He didn''t watch him and fantasize, as Grim had at the beginning. Initially, Grim felt cheated, but he silenced this quickly. There was nothing Prism wanted more than to watch¡ªnothing but the opportunity to remain with Grim, anyway.


    Prism explored Grim''s room instead. He''d done so many times, always finding something new to ask Grim about. It endeared Prism to Grim even more and was one of many reasons they''d managed to transcend their physical attraction over the past two months.


    "What''s this?" Prism asked when Grim had finished his stretches. He walked toward the low table beside the large doors leading out to the balcony, joining Prism. It was a dark-grey mask made of a thin and flexible material, meant to cover the entire head with small holes for the mouth and eyes. Two large, black horns extended from the back of the mask, curling back slightly like the horns of an ibex. On closer inspection, the mask had detailed scales painted in black ink across its entire surface.


    "Oh! My father sent that to me a few days ago. He sent gifts to both Veil and me for Bright Days," Grim said. He smiled sadly and added, "It''s a shame he couldn''t come home."


    "You''re missing him a lot right now," Prism observed, matching Grim''s smile with empathetic eyes. "You don''t get to spend any time with Veil, either."


    "No, my family is more distant than ever, though at least I still have them," Grim replied, taking the mask from Prism. He raised it to his face but didn''t slip it over his head. "And at least I know they''re thinking about me."


    "So, what is it?" Prism asked.


    Grim lowered the mask and handed it back to Prism. "It''s a ritual mask¡ªa replica, actually¡ªbelonging to the Sendar people. Have you ever heard of them?"


    "No," Prism said, setting the mask back on the table. "Tell me about them."


    Grim nodded back toward the couch and Prism followed him. They gathered the bottles of water along the way, and both resumed their previous lounging positions. Once they''d settled, Grim spoke. "They''re distant genetic cousins of the Fedain, actually, though they had several distinct differences. They retained a great deal of their avian heritage, long after their ancestors became primates. Large feathered wings allowed them to fly, and they were likely the inspiration behind the angels of Oligan''s dominant religion, Siphali."This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Could they manipulate lifeforce like Fedain do?" Prism asked.


    "We don''t know. Since they went extinct several thousand years ago, it''s difficult to know from the few biological samples we have. Most are skeletons, and only one natural mummy has ever been discovered," Grim replied. "Even that wasn''t able to offer conclusive evidence either way."


    "What''s with the horns?" Prism asked. He yawned and rested his head against the couch. "Those aren''t very birdlike."


    "The Sendar people worshipped a god known as Naxthul, whom the mask represents. It''s believed he belonged to another ancient race discovered in the fossil record, here in Ultaka. Like the Sendar, they had wings and could theoretically fly, though their wings were most likely tough and leathery, and they had large horns extending from the back of their skulls. From the fossils we believe they were reptilian, though a rare warm-blooded species, and . . ." Grim paused as Prism yawned again. "I''m boring you, aren''t I?"


    "No," Prism said. "No, I''m sorry if it came across that way. I admit that I''m falling asleep, but it''s more because your voice puts me at ease, and I love listening to you talk so much that I just want to curl up and let your words inspire my dreams."


    "That''s a lovely thought," Grim said, smiling fondly. "Well, if it''s dreams you''re after, I''ll take a different approach. See, even though we don''t know a lot about their biology, we know quite a bit about their culture, or think we do, anyway."


    "What does that mean?" Prism asked.


    "Most of it comes to us from the Elroks, whose oral tradition has preserved not only the myths of their own people for thousands of years, but also the myths of those around them. They had territorial disputes with the Sendar long ago, but also had a great deal of trade with them," Grim explained. "Some of it seems fantastical, but I''m sure even with your disinterest in history, you at least know of the Cataclysm?"


    "When massive earthquakes shook the entire world, volcanoes erupted constantly, tidal waves swept over the land, demons walked the surface, killing everything in sight, unleashed from the pit of hell itself . . ." Prism said with a grin, "that Cataclysm?"


    "Yeah, that''s the one," Grim replied, laughing. "Even though it''s mentioned as fact in the history of several societies as recently as a thousand years ago, most people don''t believe it happened."


    Prism raised an eyebrow and said, "But you do?"


    Grim shook his head and replied, "I have no idea, but I believe something must have happened to make the different peoples of the world record the event. The Elroks definitely believe it happened." He wet his mouth before continuing. "They accuse the Sendar of triggering the Cataclysm. Apparently, the Sendar created massive beings out of metal and energy and attempted to subject the entire world under their rule. The Cataclysm then followed, as if the world itself protested the damage the Sendar''s golems caused."


    "Golems. I''ve heard that word before," Prism said. "Not connected to myth though."


    "There''s a company trying to develop robotics which uses that name," Grim replied, nodding. "Their robots are entirely harmless and not particularly useful yet, but their development is promising." He smiled slyly and added, "The Sendar''s golems were different. They used magic like the Gor do."


    "Like the Gor do?" Prism guffawed. Grim regarded him strangely and Prism said, "What about the Fedain?"


    Grim stared at Prism in confusion. "What about us?"


    "The Fedain use magic, too, if you call what the Gor do ''magic''," Prism replied.


    Grim shook his head in bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"


    "Do you remember my friend Kaeral?" Prism asked. "You only met him briefly, that night we . . ." he waited for the words to trigger Grim''s memory. To go further would risk arousal.


    "Yes, I remember him. He''s a bit hazy with all the other details, of course," Grim replied, suppressing a giggle.


    "Of course," Prism said, grinning at Grim''s contained laughter. "Kaeral uses Gor magic. He''s not an expert or powerful magus in any way, but he gave me a brief course on it¡ªnot enough for me to actually use it, but enough to understand how it works."


    "Enlighten me," Grim said, leaning forward to show his interest.


    "You mean you don''t know?" Prism asked, his eyes dancing. "I finally know something you don''t? Maybe I should hold onto it because I doubt that will ever happen again."


    Grim growled in annoyance. "Come on, tell me!"


    "Okay," Prism sighed dramatically, pausing long enough to get another growl from Grim before he said, "Fedain are able to use their own lifeforce to encourage the lifeforce in others, correct? That''s my understanding of things."


    "Right. It''s energy transference," Grim said. "All we really do is encourage the natural healing process to speed up or reinforce it. We replicate our bodies'' natural healing abilities in others. In fact, we''re currently trying to develop a way to use our cells to give those healing properties to others¡ªI even donated some of my blood for development once I learned about it."


    "Well, when the Gor manipulate elements, they use their own body as a medium to transfer energy from one place to another," Prism explained. "Kaeral once transferred heat from the ocean to warm our bodies, using his body to connect from the water to the buoy we rested on."


    "What''s with the runes then?" Grim asked. "Why draw them if it''s not mystical."


    "They''re not actually important, supposedly, they just help the Gor focus. I''m told it takes a particularly strong mind for a human to accomplish it even with the added focus of the runes, though. The ''right kind of mind'' is how Kaeral put it," Prism replied. "But most Gor grow up learning the process through drawing the runes, so they can''t do it otherwise because it doesn''t feel right and disrupts their will."


    "That''s so fascinating," Grim said, pulling back and resting against the couch to absorb the information. He nodded as he dissected it all, as he said, "Transferring energy through a third party . . . I never would''ve thought about it that way. I wonder if that''s how spirit tattoos and familiars work, too?"


    "I know something about spirit tattoos," Prism offered. Grim smiled, which was all the encouragement Prism needed to continue. "Some people use them in the Dorram, though it''s falling out of style as people embrace modern ways of thinking. Killing animals and using their lifeforce to alter your own physical state is something most people think is . . . improper."


    "As a Fedain, I do too," Grim said. But he hastened to add, "Though as someone who likes to study other cultures, I still find it morbidly fascinating. Kaeral had spirit tattoos on his ears, didn''t he, as I recall?"


    "Yeah, and he uses them to sneak out of the Temple," Prism replied. "His allow him to collapse his body somewhat, and he can fit through spaces most people wouldn''t be able to."


    Grim paled as much as his already light skin allowed. "That''s just creepy."


    "Speaking as a thief, I think it''s useful," Prism said.


    "Former thief," Grim amended.


    Prism chuckled and replied, "I don''t know about that. Seems I''m still sneaking into places I shouldn''t. I mean, I''m living in a palace and I''m a poor boy from the country!"


    "Oh, you belong here," Grim said. "This is home for you."


    "You''re amazing," Prism said, "I love you."


    "I love you, too," Grim said, sighing in contentment.


    They stared at each other for several seconds, basking in the warm words exchanged between them. Contentment gave way to lust, however, and Grim turned away, blushing at how close he''d come to jumping across the couch and compromising Prism''s oaths.


    "So . . ." Prism said, coughing awkwardly as he straightened his posture, conscious now of imaginary eyes watching his every move, "what''s a familiar? I don''t know that term."


    Grim, glad of an opportunity to avoid talking about what just happened, eagerly answered the question. "It doesn''t really happen anymore here in Ultaka, since it is actually a Fedain tradition, and the Blood Church put a stop to it centuries ago. But I know the Gor still practice it, regularly even, and some Fedain still do it in secret."


    "Why is it forbidden?" Prism asked.


    "Technically there is a small bit of harm involved, so the church feels it is anti-pacifistic," Grim replied. "Usually it occurs when someone wants to bond with their animals¡ªpets, that sort of thing. They tattoo themselves in a specific way with the animal''s blood, after it has passed through an ancient ritual supposedly passed down from ancient Gor sorcerers. Though now I wonder how important the ritual actually is if the Gor runes don''t really matter."


    "Who knows? Maybe I''ll ask Kaeral if I get a chance to see him again," Prism suggested, shrugging. "What''s the result of the ritual?"


    "The bonded pair shares lifeforce and some senses, depending on the strength of the ritual," Grim explained. "The animal also receives greater intelligence, unless it''s an already particularly intelligent animal which participates. Since the ritual can be done between two Fedain, two humans, two Gor, two Elroks, or any combination of them, intelligence isn''t always a factor."


    "Fascinating," Prism said. "Does that mean they can feel each other, from a distance?"


    "That''s right," Grim said. "If both participants get the tattoo, it''s even stronger."


    "Feeling each other from a distance . . ." Prism mused. He stood, his lips pursed as he paced in front of the couch. "Using a third party as a medium . . ." he muttered and smiled slyly at Grim. "I''m just not allowed to touch you or engage in carnal pleasures. Is love carnal?"


    Grim shrugged. "It can be."


    "Is it inherently?" Prism asked. "Is our love carnal?"


    "Sometimes," Grim said. "Some moments, it''s nothing but."


    "Is this moment carnal?" Prism asked.


    "No. I don''t think so," Grim said after a moment, "If anything, I''m daydreaming about long nights spent in conversation with you, not about sex right now."


    "Then if I kissed you right now, it would only be breaking my oath not to touch you, right?" Prism confirmed. "It wouldn''t break my oath to avoid carnal pleasures."


    "I suppose, but that doesn''t fix the problem," Grim said.


    Prism left him in the dark for a few seconds more, darting over to the table by the balcony and retrieving the mask of Naxthul. He returned with it and handed it to Grim. "It''s not much, but at least you can feel me through it." Grim held the mask, staring at Prism with bewildered smile. "Put it on!" Prism insisted.


    Grim shrugged and slipped the mask over his head, staring at Prism through the eye slits as he waited for something to happen. To his surprise, Prism leaned in and kissed the cheek of the mask, pressing in firmly so Grim could feel the pressure, could sense him just out of reach.


    Tenderly, Prism cupped the cheeks of the mask, lifting Grim''s face so he could kiss Grim''s forehead next. Once again, Grim felt the pressure, the intense connection of the moment through the nearly insubstantial cloth.


    Lust fled from him, and only the desire for tactile connection remained, the desire to feel Prism and let Prism feel him. It differed from the physical contact they had during training, because no pretense existed here. Only them, and the thin wall separating them, a physical representation of the vows keeping them apart.


    Grim slipped the mask from his head and put it over Prism''s, then proceeded to kiss both his lover''s cheeks through the mask. He followed up the cheeks with the forehead, and pulled away, staring into Prism''s eyes as he wore Naxthul''s face.


    Prism removed the mask, resuming his connection with Grim''s gaze as he laid it gently on the couch. Only love existed between them then. Whether nine or nineteen years they''d have to wait, nothing could keep them apart. Only air separated them, and they could feel each other no matter the distance.


    "Kaeral was wrong," Grim whispered. The moment was too sacred to speak loudly.


    "About what?" Prism asked.


    Grim smiled, reaching as if to touch Prism, but keeping his hand poised in the air, an inch away from his skin. "You do have the right mind for magic," he said.


    Prism mirrored the gesture, and they held the pose as they communicated silently, their eyes dancing when their bodies could not. Neither knew the time when they parted, but Prism eventually pulled away, placing the mask back in its place before turning back to his lover.


    "Good night, Grim," he said, his eyes every bit as loving as before. "I''ll see you in the morning."

 Clouded Purity - Chapter 14: A Question of Oaths

    "The bond between you was special," Ghayle said, pulling away to let Prism recover for a moment. "I think your relationship was one of the purest I''ve ever seen, across all the time I''ve guided this world. I wonder if Khalis ever considered the two of you for the Purity of Connection."


    "That''s a frightening thought," Prism said, shuddering more from the thought of injury to Grim than his own potential peril. As thoughts of his own death crossed his mind, however, he added, "A poetic death, though, I suppose."


    "Not all the purities died," Ghayle said. "Neredos wasn''t killed for his act of pure Movement. Marhys died of her wounds, but only because she refused to be healed. Janlynd''s blood was harvested after her death, as were the brains of the twins. Well, one of them was, anyway . . ."


    "But Khalis would''ve killed Marhys," Prism said. "He showed no concern for her. He was a demon."


    "It was not his duty to show concern for her," Ghayle said. "His duty was to fulfill the ritual to begin the Trial."


    Prism''s eyes narrowed. "Your trial was a massacre."


    "Trials are necessary for development and education," Ghayle said. "Whether a trial of the body or a trial of the mind, they teach us things about ourselves we''ve forgotten. Was it not true of you?"


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    The ride to the temple was bumpy as ever, but Prism didn''t mind it one bit. With Grim by his side, no obstacle seemed insurmountable, and a simple bump in the road was as insignificant as a gnat buzzing around his head. It might be annoying for a moment, but it would not affect him in the long run.


    The last month had flown by. Grim and Prism trained every day, and Prism at least hadn''t felt the slightest temptation. Despite his profound attraction to the Fedain, he could maintain complete control now, believing firmly in the connection between them. One day he would be able to show his love in other ways.


    But he remained anxious about the day ahead. His first quarterly evaluation awaited him at the top of the hill, the one thing which could pull him away from Grim. This, too, made the bumps in the road insignificant.


    Though at least he had something to distract him, and he stared at the vehicle ahead of them, which Lady Veil occupied on her own mission to the Temple. "Why is your sister coming with us?" Prism asked at last, glancing at Grim for a moment. "Isn''t this just for my evaluation?"


    "That''s why you and I are here. It seems she has a personal request for the Order," Grim replied, shrugging. "I have a guess as to what it is, but she didn''t tell me, and I neglected to ask. I don''t think she planned on coming here the same day we were, but it just worked out that way."


    "Why do you think she''s here, then?" Prism asked.


    Grim reasoned through the question before responding. "She''s paid a few visits to the hospital recently, the one near the Council Chambers in Kobinaru. I''d bet the vaccine has met with promising results recently, and they want to test it."


    "They want to test drugs on monks? That seems like something they wouldn''t really support," Prism said. "Usually they are very careful about what they put in their bodies."


    "Oh, on the contrary, the Order has been involved with this vaccine for a long time. Master Janlynd was paramount in developing the vaccine in the first place," Grim explained. Prism noted the sadness on Grim''s features and placed his hand next to Grim''s. Grim smiled, basking in the proximity.


    "She was a powerful woman," Prism observed with a fond smile.


    "That she was," Grim replied. He changed the subject to the one Prism avoided. "Are you nervous about this evaluation?"


    "Should I be? Are you going to testify against me?" Prism asked, denying the anxiety with humor.


    "Of course," Grim said. "We all know how good you are at keeping your oaths." He laughed and moved his hand closer to Prism''s, leaving barely any air between them at all. Static electricity generated by the movement arced out at Prism, shocking them both.


    "Indeed," Prism said, nursing his hand from the shock, with a surprised glance. They shared a look and wore matching smiles as Prism addressed the seriousness of the situation. "Hopefully I can answer all their questions."


    "I''m sure you''ll be fine," Grim said. "Despite the odds, your integrity should never be in question. I''m sure they''ll see where you belong."


    "And where is that?" Prism asked, his eyes dancing with delight.


    Grim grinned wide and replied, "Obviously you belong in a palace, thief from the country that you are."


    The vehicle carrying Veil reached the gates, and they creaked open to allow her entry. "The gates are opening," Prism said. "I guess we''re about to find out if you''re right."


    "I will be. I have a good feeling about today," Grim said as their vehicle followed Veil''s inside.


    Before they came to a complete stop, and were allowed to exit the vehicle, Veil had already left her vehicle and headed inside the Temple, escorted by several monks. Only one person who stopped to meet Prism and Grim had a familiar face¡ªMaster Vinh.


    "Master Prism, welcome back," Master Vinh said, bowing to his former student.


    Prism bowed a little lower than his master and said, "Master Vinh, I didn''t expect you to greet me."


    As Prism straightened, Master Vinh''s gaze took in all of Prism, sweeping up and down, then glanced over at Grim. "Why wouldn''t I? You may be a Junior Master now, but you are still my pupil until the end of your sentence, or the end of mine."


    "I wasn''t aware you were serving a sentence, Master Vinh," Grim said with surprise.


    "He means his death, Lord Grimfaeth," Prism said formally. Self-conscious now, standing before his mentor instilled the need to be less casual. Grim regarded him curiously, but still Prism continued in his more professional tone, "It''s a joke among the monks. Every monk is a pardon with a lifetime sentence."


    "Ah, I see," Grim said, his eyes showing amusement and confusion.


    "I also came on official business, Master Prism," Master Vinh said, "Lady Veillynn has asked to speak to the masters. The senior masters have decided to hear her first, before they meet with you, so you will need to wait until they are ready."


    "Of course, Master Vinh," Prism said, bowing again in acceptance. "Will you be attending us during that time?"


    "No, I have another student''s education to see to," Master Vinh said dryly. He noted Prism''s surprise and explained, "While I do not normally take students, the influx of initiates has made it impossible for me to avoid those duties." He sighed in exasperation, but his usual knowing smile spread across his face once more. "But it is good to see you, Master Prism. You seem to be doing well."


    "The honor is mine, Master Vinh," Prism replied.


    Master Vinh glanced between Prism and Grim again and said appraisingly, "Yes. I can see that. If you''ll excuse me."


    Master Vinh left, and Prism gestured toward the western grounds before stepping in that direction. Grim followed until they reached a shady spot beneath a large maple tree and sat together.


    "What was that, with Master Vinh?" Grim asked.


    "I assume he wanted to check on me. He''s a very perceptive man, and I''ll bet he wanted to see if he could detect any deceit in me," Prism said. "Hopefully he did not."


    "I meant the ''Lord Grimfaeth'' nonsense," Grim said with an amused grin. "I''m sure he didn''t detect anything at all, with the way you acted like we were master and servant!"


    Prism turned a horror-stricken face to Grim. "I just wanted to make sure I maintained the proper protocol. I didn''t mean to offend you."


    "Has being in the palace made you into some stuffy court clerk or something?" Grim asked, laughing. This only confused Prism more, but Grim was quick to explain, "You''re not a servant, you''re my friend, and officially you''re a personal attendant. Sharis calls me Lord Grim, and he''s a prim and proper sort. You shouldn''t even call me Lord, but I guess if you want to in public that''s okay."


    "I don''t want them to think anything," Prism said.


    Grim''s bright eyes showed Prism the futility of hiding from his emotions. "You''re overcompensating," Grim said, "and it''s adorable."


    "I suppose I am," Prism said, avoiding Grim''s gaze. "Sorry, Grim."


    "Oh, now you have to call me Grimfaeth. I actually kind of like it when you say it," Grim replied.


    "Okay, Grimfaeth," Prism said.


    Grim shook his head and said, "Never mind, it sounds too much like my dad. Let''s go back to Grim."


    "As fickle as ever, huh?"


    "Shut up," Grim said, sticking his tongue out. "Bastard."


    "Speaking of bastards, we should see where Kaeral is. I''d like for you to officially meet him," Prism said, fluidly rising to his feet.


    Grim joined him just as gracefully and nodded, showing his excitement with a wide grin. "Sounds great, lead the way."


    They walked into the Temple, down the hall to the room Kaeral had used since he and Prism first arrived. Prism opened the door without announcing his presence or waiting for an invitation, as such rules of privacy had never existed between him and his friend before.


    He found two initiates in the room, one with fair skin and freckles shaving fresh, red stubble from his scalp, and the other with skin even darker than Prism''s, caught in a state of undress. Two bedrolls occupied the space now, and a third was rolled up in the corner. Extra bedrolls were not normally left in initiate''s rooms; they expected another occupant soon.


    "Excuse me, where is Kaeral Elrhanadan?" Prism asked as the initiates regarded him with suspicion. Neither were familiar to Prism, though that meant little considering the three months he''d spent away from the Temple.


    "I''m sorry, who?" the undressed one asked as he reached for his robe.


    "The Gor initiate. These were his rooms," Prism said.


    "I''ve had these rooms for a few weeks now, but I''m told the previous resident ran away and didn''t return," the shaving initiate replied.


    "Oh . . . thank you. I''m sorry for disturbing you," Prism said, closing the door and turning to Grim, who had watched in awkward silence as the scene unfolded.


    They returned to their shady spot beneath the tree, neither wanting to converse until they had privacy.


    Grim spoke as soon as they reached the shadows. "Your friend is gone?"


    "Yes . . ." Prism said, glancing farther down the yard in the direction of a small crack beneath the wall. It wasn''t large enough for even a child to fit through, but Kaeral had used it time and time again through his spirit tattoos. He''d use the same opening to return every night, but something had kept him from coming back a few weeks ago. Prism hoped his friend was safe, and not dead in an alley somewhere. "I guess he''s probably taking care of his son now. He probably planned his escape for after making it to probation."


    "It''s a shame I couldn''t meet him," Grim said. "He seems important to you."


    Prism nodded, unable to keep his unease from showing. "He is. Was, I guess. I wonder if I''ll ever see him again now?"


    Before Grim could respond, an initiate came running to them. Prism sized up the slender young man in an instant. He was a troublemaker, and had received extra duties attending to the Masters as punishment for breaking a rule.


    The boy''s blue eyes sparked with defiance, even as he bowed and breathlessly addressed Prism, "Master Prism, Lord Grimfaeth, thank you for waiting. The Masters will see you now."


    "Thank you," Prism replied. "Will you be taking us there, or should we go on our own?"The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "What do I care?" the boy replied. His eyes widened, aware of his disrespect.


    But Prism could only smile. He saw so much of himself in the boy''s eyes. "Thank you, we''ll go on our own. Who is your mentor?"


    "Master Vinh," the boy replied. "Please, don''t tell him what I just said! He rides me hard enough as it is."


    Prism bowed and replied, "You''ll learn to see things differently."


    Grim took a step toward the Temple, beckoning Prism forward. "Let''s get this over with, shall we?"


    Prism smiled and took the lead. As anxious as he was, he''d already come a long way, and this was nothing more than another bump in the road.


    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~


    Though only five masters faced Prism and Grim directly, seven occupied the meeting hall. Grandmaster Valkean knelt to the side. Despite his position as head of the Order, he could not sit on the evaluation council for Prism, having recommended him for the assignment.


    Master Vinh knelt on the opposite side of the room, facing Valkean. A low writing desk sat before him, paper, inkwell, and fountain pen sitting on its surface.


    Prism tried to avoid looking at either Master Vinh or Valkean, instead staring straight ahead at the council. Grim knelt a foot away, facing the council at their request.


    Master Jovun began the hearing by reading from a page in front of him. "This is an evaluation hearing for Junior Master Prism, surname unknown. He is being evaluated regarding his position as representative of the Order of the Mountain at the personal court of Duke Selfaeth of Tehir, and as training partner and attendant to Lord Grimfaeth of Tehir, who is representing himself today in these proceedings. Grandmaster Valkean will preside over this hearing, and I, Jovun Belgard will conduct this hearing. Master Vinhkroludar as mentor to Junior Master Prism will stand as witness if the need arises and will fulfill the duties of scribe."


    "So witnessed," the other four masters on the council said. Master Vinh and Grandmaster Valkean remained silent.


    "Master Prism, thank you for arriving promptly. We apologize for the delay in these proceedings, as other official business kept us from keeping our original timetable," Master Jovun said, lowering the page and smiling politely at Prism. "Be that as it may, we are here to evaluate your performance and status, and would like to hear from you first."


    Prism inclined his head and said, "I will answer any question presented to me to the best of my ability, Master Jovun."


    Master Jovun accepted Prism''s declaration with a nod and asked, "Have you maintained your commitment to the first oath? Have you upheld the sanctity of the Mountain in all your dealings?"


    "I have done so to the best of my ability, Master Jovun," Prism replied.


    One Master grunted, another snorted, and Master Jovun clarified, "Could you explain what that means to me, Master Prism?"


    Prism''s pulse quickened. This would not be as simple and straightforward as he''d expected it to be. While trying to determine what the Masters wanted, he gave the most thorough answer he could manage. "I have presented myself as a monk of the Order and acted according to the oaths I have sworn at all times, ensuring that I serve as an example of the Order''s training, discipline, and spiritual purity."


    Master Jovun nodded, turned to Grim, and asked, "Lord Grimfaeth, as a former student of the Temple and current employer of Master Prism, how do you feel he has performed in accordance with this oath?"


    Grim surprised Prism by being far more prepared, or at least better equipped to think on his feet. "I have never had reason to question Prism''s commitment to the Order. He maintains integrity and moral purity at all times. Despite living in the palace, he lives an austere life, only taking what he needs to survive."


    Master Jovun smiled and returned his attention to Prism, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Master Prism, have you maintained your commitment to the second oath? Have you protected the innocent, the helpless, and resorted to violence only to the magnitude necessary?"


    "The only violence I have committed has been in the spirit of training with Lord Grim," Prism replied. Despite his struggle understanding the first oath, he had internalized this one long ago. "I have had little opportunity to defend the innocent or the helpless, but I have remained vigilant for any occurrences in which it may be necessary."


    "Lord Grimfaeth? How do you feel Prism has fulfilled his commitment to the second oath?" Master Jovun asked.


    Grim smiled and replied, "I have nothing to add to Prism''s statement. He is a nonviolent person by nature, worthy of serving in a Fedain house, and his service to the second oath has been exemplary."


    Prism fought to keep from smiling at Grim''s glowing praise, but Master Jovun''s next question brought him crashing back to reality. "Master Prism, have you maintained your commitment to the third oath? Have you stood as an example to the community, a pillar of strength, and a steadfast obstacle in the path of impurity?"


    "I . . ." Prism began and glanced at Master Vinh, sensing his mentor''s critical eye. "I''m afraid I do not know if I have fulfilled this oath. Despite my service to the Duke and his son, I have spent little time in the public eye, and have not had much opportunity to be an example. The only impurity I have found to combat has been my own, as a flawed human who has as many doubts as any other."


    "Honest answers are appreciated here, Master Prism, but you have been part of a community, even if only a community of two," Master Jovun replied, and Prism sighed in relief as the master continued. "You have interacted regularly with Lord Grimfaeth, and so, we will turn the question to him."


    "Master Prism has never wavered in this, Master Jovun," Grim replied. "When I have needed counsel, Master Prism listened and responded with wisdom at all times. At the risk of being anecdotal, there was a time when I was unsettled, because of my father''s leaving several months ago. Prism suggested I train my body to take my mind off the uncontrollable future, and he has proven multiple times that the pursuit of physical and mental purity can serve as a guard against unwanted thoughts."


    "Thank you for your candor, Lord Grimfaeth," Master Jovun replied, bowing. Murmurs of assent traveled through the other Masters, and Prism uttered a silent prayer of thanks to the cosmos on behalf of his lover.


    Master Jovun asked, "Master Prism, have you maintained your commitment to the fourth oath? Have you maintained physical purity, forgone the carnal pleasures of the flesh, and avoided contact with all beings except in accordance with your service to the Mountain?"


    "I have, Master Jovun," Prism replied, as confident in this oath as ever. "The only times I have willfully touched another have been during training sessions with Lord Grim, and only in accordance with training. I have forgone all carnal pleasures, though I have not managed to completely contain my thoughts."


    "Lord Grimfaeth?" Master Jovun asked.


    "I have not forgone the carnal . . ." Grim began, then clutched both hands to his mouth, stifling what he''d been about to say. He blushed furiously and prostrated himself before the council. "Excuse me, Masters . . . for a moment, I forgot who was being evaluated here. I am truly embarrassed and beg your forgiveness."


    Several chuckles came from the council as Prism suppressed a grin. "Of course, Lord Grimfaeth," Master Jovun said with obvious mirth.


    Grim regained his composure with surprising swiftness and gave his stately answer without a hint of his previous embarrassment. "To the best of my knowledge, Master Prism has never broken this oath. In fact, we have spoken about the difficulty of this oath in the past, and from those exchanges I have learned to contain my own carnal pleasures with greater success. Despite whatever thoughts Prism may have to the contrary, I believe his purity to be unquestionable."


    "Thank you, Lord Grimfaeth," Master Jovun replied. "Do any of the Masters have questions regarding the four oaths?" he asked the council. None answered in the affirmative, and so Master Jovun spoke again. "Do the masters believe Master Prism to be in accordance with the oaths, based upon the testimony presented?" Each of the Masters on the council bowed to Prism, Master Jovun bowing last.


    When he straightened, he addressed the room. "Then this council approves Master Prism''s continued service to Lord Grimfaeth."


    "So witnessed," the Masters replied.


    Prism bowed in response, but Master Jovun had not finished. "But we do have additional questions."


    "I understand, Master Jovun. Thank you, Masters," Prism said as he returned to the upright kneeling position.


    "Lord Grimfaeth, Grandmaster Valkean has presented us with testimony from Captain Tson of the Ultakan Military, who was present at the time of Master Prism''s arrest," Master Jovun said. "Master Prism was accused of threatening your noble personage, and yet you requested him to be your training partner. Out of respect to your station, we did not inquire after this at Master Prism''s initial assignment, but recent developments have given us reason to address it now. Are you prepared to testify to events leading up to and including Prism''s arrest?"


    Prism fought the urge to look at Grim, though he ached to witness the reaction to that question. Grim''s answer was as stately as ever as he said, "If it is in the spirit of truth, of course."


    "Captain Tson''s official report indicated that Master Prism held a weapon to your throat and declared you his hostage, is that true?" Master Jovun asked.


    "Yes," Grim replied.


    "Yet Grandmaster Valkean''s statement of the same event concludes that you implied you were never in any danger from Master Prism, and that it was, in fact, an act on Master Prism''s part. Would you validate that testimony, and do you have any evidence to support it?" Master Jovun asked.


    "I stand by my testimony that Prism never meant me any harm," Grim said evenly. "As you may know, Fedain can sense emotions through physical touch. It''s not terribly specific, mostly impressions, but Prism''s only motivation was fear, not violence. He hoped to escape, not hurt me."


    "Does this mean you believe the charge against Master Prism to be invalid?" Master Jovun asked.


    Grim nodded. "That is correct, Master Jovun."


    "Grandmaster Valkean has recently presented an amended statement from Captain Tson regarding Prism''s arrest, indicating the validity of the charge to be in question," Master Jovun said. "Acting upon our authority as an Ultakan court, we will officially remove the charge from Master Prism''s sentence, finding the question of Master Prism''s guilt consistent with recent testimony. Master Prism''s sentence is hereby reduced by ten years."


    "So witnessed."


    "What?" Prism blurted. He immediately followed his outburst with a prostration. "I''m sorry for my outburst, Masters. Thank you. I am humbled by this change of events."


    "Captain Tson, as the arresting officer, has also suggested that, if this council finds your performance consistent with the oaths of the Order, we may reduce your remaining sentence owed to the city regarding the charge of resisting arrest. He has suggested the sentence be reduced to two years, the minimum sentence for that crime," Master Jovun explained.


    Prism''s eyes lit up with hope, but Master Jovun hadn''t finished yet. "However, this council does not agree. While we believe your conduct is deserving of reward, we would like to see further development from you. We will, however, follow Captain Tson''s suggestion in spirit and reduce your sentence on that charge by half." He picked up the paper again. "Your total sentence will hereby be reduced to six years and six months, of which you have already served one year and two months."


    "So witnessed."


    Prism had never been more relieved in his life. Blissful excitement soaked deep into his bones, and he fought the urge to rise and dance at the news. To his surprise, Grim spoke up. "Master Jovun, may I address the court?"


    Master Jovun nodded. "Lord Grimfaeth, you have the floor."


    "I understand three years of Prism''s sentence are the result of monetary restitution owed to the people of his home village. While the Temple has already refunded the people of Choballa, I would like to make restitution for this refund from my personal treasury in a form of donation to the temple, in the hopes of reducing Master Prism''s sentence."


    "That is a perplexing suggestion, Lord Grimfaeth, and highly irregular. Why would you wish to do that?"


    "Master Prism has proven his integrity and worth to me, and I hope to retain his services as my personal bodyguard after his sentence is over, with full pay and position." Grim smiled at Prism, who couldn''t help but meet his lover''s eyes and communicate his silent thanks. "To be quite honest, Masters, I don''t want to lose his service. Since I know he''ll be subject to quarterly reviews and may at any time be recalled to the Temple during his sentence, I would prefer any potential gaps in Prism''s service to be minimal and avoided entirely if possible."


    Prism turned back to the council as Master Jovun spoke again. "Masters, all those in favor of reducing Master Prism''s sentence by three years, contingent upon Lord Grimfaeth''s donation?" With some hesitation, the council members bowed in turn to Grim, showing their acceptance. Master Jovun smiled at Grim and Prism in turn before declaring, "Junior Master Prism''s sentence is hereby reduced by three years. Your total sentence is reduced to three years and six months, of which you have already served one year and two months."


    "So witnessed."


    The chorus of the Masters resonated through Prism''s whole body. He''d hoped for a reduced sentence, but this was beyond anything he could''ve dreamed. He''d prepared for twenty years, but it would only be two years until he could be with Grim always.


    He prostrated himself again, preparing to thank the masters when Master Jovun addressed him again. "Before you leave us, we have one more item to address. It pertains not to your service or sentencing, but rather a request we received from Lady Veillynn this morning."


    "Please, I would be honored to help her in any way."


    "This is not a duty, but a request, Master Prism. Please wait until you''ve heard the terms before you accept."


    "I''m sorry, Master Jovun."


    "The Central Hospital is requesting human subjects for the trials of a new vaccine," Master Jovun explained. "Master Janlynd was instrumental in developing this vaccine, and Lady Veillynn requested in Master Janlynd''s honor that the monks of the Order participate, if they desire. The vaccine is meant to boost the natural healing of the human body. In the Order of the Mountain''s pursuit of physical perfection, some feel this vaccine is consistent with our ethics, while others contend it is inconsistent. We are still deciding on the Order''s official standpoint, but we have decided to allow monks to participate, based upon their own understanding of the Order''s tenants. If you would like to participate in the program, please contact Doctor Balindae, at Central Hospital."


    "Should I report my participation to the Order?" Prism asked.


    "Yes, but you need not do so before your next evaluation," Master Jovun said. "If there are no other questions, this hearing is adjourned."


    "So witnessed." The chorus prostrated themselves.


    Prism mirrored their action and said, "Thank you, Masters."


    "Master Prism," Master Jovun said, "continue to serve with distinction."


    Prism''s emotions danced as he left the Temple, Grim walking in stunned silence behind him. Both were too shocked to speak about the dramatically reduced sentencing; they instead enjoyed the prospect of a future now much closer than before.


    Master Vinh caught them before they summoned Grim''s driver, and Prism bowed low to him in greeting. "Master Vinh, I''d expected you to question me during my hearing."


    "There was no need. I can see the honor in you now." Master Vinh gestured toward the same tree Prism and Grim had sat beneath before the hearing. Master Vinh did not speak again until they stood beneath its shade. "You''ve upheld the oaths, despite your predicament."


    "My . . ." Prism started to question the statement but read Master Vinh''s knowing smile. Sickening dread washed over him. "You know."


    Master Vinh grinned wide, a toothy smile brighter than anything Prism had ever seen from the eccentric master. "A platinum hair wrapped around your finger, which you later wove into your robe. Lord Grimfaeth requests a training partner, who is of age and size to himself, during a time when you are the only one who matches that description. Your physical interactions with Kaeral Elrhanadan during the eleven months of your Temple residency." He glanced between Grim and Prism, snickering like a madman. "I know."


    "Are you going to tell the other Masters?" Prism asked.


    Master Vinh shook his head. "If I believed you guilty of breaking your oaths, I would. There are no oaths against love, Master Prism, and I believe your testimony. Every word spoken by the two of you indicated the deep bond you share, and yet I sensed no deceit on your behalf from either of you. I''m certain it can''t be easy on you to keep the fourth oath, but I have no doubt you''ve honored it, at least as far as you understand it."


    "How did I ever think I could keep things from you?" Prism asked, glancing at Grim with horrified wonder.


    "There''s a reason I don''t usually take students, Master Prism," Master Vinh replied. "I hate being lied to, yet they all try. Every lie is like swallowing a peach pit; as it goes down you wonder why you ever thought it was a good idea."


    Prism grinned. "Do all of your lessons involve fruit?"


    "Enjoy your apples, Master Prism," Master Vinh said and winked at Grim. "Continue to remain worthy of them, and you''ll be free to have as many as you want before you know it."


    He walked away, laughing loud enough to draw attention from everyone else in the nearby grounds. Only when he disappeared into the prayer gardens did Grim whisper, "That man is scary."


    "You have no idea." Prism sighed in relief and turned a bright smile on Grim. "Two years and four months. That''s not nineteen, nor nine, either."


    Grim returned the smile with equal warmth. "You''re right about that. We should celebrate."


    "I know just the thing. How about we go to the Central Hospital?"


    Grim''s eyes widened in surprise and said, "Just what I was thinking!"


    But Prism caught a hint of color in Grim''s cheeks and could read Grim''s real feelings as if they were his own. "No, it wasn''t, but I think if we went home now, my oaths would be more in jeopardy than ever."


    "You''re probably right. But I think I know another way to celebrate."


    "How?"


    Grim smiled slyly. "I''m going to get a tattoo."