Chapter X: Battle and Flight

here are times in a man's life when he steps outside of his body and knows the feeling of watching himself. This is not by magical means. But merely a natural reaction to fear. Aeroth knew such a moment, for though he was a paladin knight, trained for battle by General Lux himself, he was not absent of fear. And there was a thought picking in the back of his brain that they had been lucky so far to lose so little. There had been Hiroko, of course, who was a great loss. And Jewelynna, of course. But the baby still lived, and so there was still hope. But here in the dungeons of Stonehold, it was hard to cling to hope. He could barely cling to a light. And all around him was darkness.

Weapons sliced through the darkness. Simultaneously, wings batted loudly and the cry of a horned demon erupted in the throne room. Aeroth could remember little of the details, for he went into a mode of killing. Each time he entered a battle, he prepared for death. It was a silent prayer he spoke to himself. And this creature... this Blackguard... had been hunting them. Whether or not they would all make it out of this alive he did not know. The girl he'd rescued was half-dead herself. He thought about her. He thought about Marco, and Tic. And little baby Brillowyn. He couldn't let them down now.

Rather quickly, the fear fizzled away and dissolved into blind anger. It was a dangerous place to go. His father had always warned himself of blind rage in battle, but Aeroth felt himself grow into a more focus warrior this way. It was a fine line he tread. The Blackguard was merely a fallen paladin... one who had let his blind rage turn him to darkness. But Aeroth danced such a dance many times before, and he somehow knew with the protection of the Golden Battle axe, he would not die today.

Not today.

There were times when everything passed into slow motion. And then they sped up with blinding speed. Everything was dark in a moment, and they fought foes unseen. He heard screams. Was that Aurora? The dark-haired girl? Where was Tic and Wyveryn? Were they all right? Where was Marco? Who had Brillowyn?

There was a light spell cast and suddenly they could see. The horned demon was heavy in battle with Tic and Wyveryn, and the Wyveryn-dragon was fighting a duplicate of itself. Brilliant! Aeroth felt an odd moment of pride for his "brother". He must have used the Mirror of Opposition. And then another moment of dry humor. Now there were far too many Wyveryns in the room.

Which left the Blackguard.



"By the blood of Ekarmordi, I will skin you alive and enjoy every moment, Aeroth Ravenswing."

"Come face me man to man, if you dare, Blackguard. I am not so easily killed. Just ask your Drow King."

The Blackguard sent a wave of pain over him. It tore at his flesh like a thousand daggers running through his skin. He threw his arms up for protection, falling to one knee. As he did, he caught sight of two wolves out of the corner of his eye. The Blackguard had called a familiar, and Wolfric had matched it. Dammit, if he could only figure out the answer to his riddle. He might have a fighting chance against this magic. But no fallen paladin would face him head on, man to man. Still, he didn't know how much longer he would endure this.

And then Banger was at his side. She was still heavily wounded, but she moved like a trained soldier. Instantly he was grateful for her presence. The others fought as individuals. Banger had been trained by Lux and Paladonia. She knew how to fight as a unit.

"Banger," he barked at her, "stay back to back. Let nothing get behind us. And keep moving forward."

She nodded in understanding.

Another wave pain washed over him. He staggered and caught sight of the battle that was going on behind him. Someone had jumped onto the back of the horned demon and was stabbing it with a weapon. The creature was severely injured and wailing madly. Was that Tic? Or Wyveryn? Aeroth could not see. Where was Marco? For an instant, he wondered if the magician had betrayed them all and run away with the child. But he pushed the thought from his head as he rose to his feet again.

He slayed the Blackguard's wolf with barely a thought.

"Now I'm coming for you." He said.

The horned demon gave a cry and then it died. The Wyveryn was injured but it still flew overhead in a fit of fury. One claw caught Banger and she was knocked against the far wall. Tic cried out and ran to them. That was when Aeroth gave a cry and rushed the Blackguard.

The Battle Axe that he wielded was bright golden in color, and it gleamed when it struck the Blackguard's sword. It seemed to fill Aeroth with a power of another man's will, as if Lux was wielding it himself. The initials engraved into the blade cut deeply into the blackguard's armor, drawing blood. Red mixed with gold. It was strangely beautiful.

Face to face, Aeroth could see the hatred seething from the fallen paladin's face. His teeth had been ground to points. His skin was so while that the blood vessels and veins could be seen right through it. His eyes gleamed a deep crimson like the color of a dark wine. And he sneered at each attack as if he enjoyed it. Like it was a game. Something was wrong. It couldn't be this easy. Was this all planned?

And then the lights went out again. Aeroth found himself flailing in the dark. Panic arose in him. Was he dead? Was the Blackguard upon him? Was the Wyveryn dead? Where were his companions? Had Aurora been killed? Aeroth was used to low light and enclosed spaces. But he did NOT like total darkness. It was unnerving.

And then Wolfric cast a light spell and they could see again. Aeroth came slowly to his feet.

The Blackguard was gone.

Just like that. Like he had never been there to begin with. The horned demon lay crumpled on the ground one side of he room. The Wyveryn was crumpled on the other side. Tic hovered over Banger. But she was a hard one to kill as well, it seemed. She came to her feet and fended them all off, refusing to be treated for her wounds. The girl who'd been prisoner here in the dungeons was shivering and half-naked in the far corner. And Marco was at the door on the far end of the chamber, holding a... rubber key?

"Where did he go?" Asked Aeroth.

Tic shrugged. "I don't know. But he's gone for the moment. And we need to get out of here. now. Cut our losses and run."

Aeroth agreed. It was time to leave the chamber and descend down into the last level of the dungeon. Somehow they were all alive and surprisingly unscathed. They'd been lucky... this time. And Aeroth knew better than to press his luck. For like a tall glass of wine, luck eventually runs out.

************************************************************

Down, down down they descended where it was so cold that even Wolfric shivered. And when at last they touched solid ground, they stood before a vast lake. Though it was dark in the vast cave, they made out the wreckage of an old pirate ship. It rested against a sand bar as if it were dozing.

Aeroth folded his hands across his chest.

"Well, what now?"

Wyveryn seemed to be deep in thought. "I'll go over."

"Not alone your not."

"I'll go with him!" Said Tic.

"Oh great. The Dynamic Duo." Aeroth muttered under his breath. But it was no use arguing with Wyveryn, for as usual, he'd already started wading into the water. The paladin, irritated, turned to Banger and raised his eyebrow. "How is it that I'm supposed to deal with that? How, I ask you?"

She simply shrugged, sitting on the ground and placing the baby in her lap. "You deal with it just as you would anything else that's been thrown our way since this all began. Take it in stride."

Aeroth snorted. He didn't like that answer.


*************************************

The old ship was actually not very old at all. In fact, it seemed in fairly good condition. As Tic and Wyveryn explored it, they discovered very little dust on the deck, and wooded slabs that were quick finely made. The sails were torn, of course, but other than that, it seemed like it should sail.

"But where would the wind come from?" Tic wondered aloud.

"The wind for what?"

"For the sails, you dolt."

"What makes you think the sails were what moved it?"

"Why have sails at all?"

"For aesthetic purposes? Maybe they rowed?"

"That makes no sense. And if they rowed, they would need a vast crew. Where are they?"

"Probably below deck would be my guess."

"Well then," Tic said, opening the hatch, "after you."

Wyveryn dropped down the hatch and moved about on the deck below, letting his eyes fall on anything of interest. Truthfully, there wasn't much to see. No skeletons. No treasure. It was all very dull and disappointing. Tic, on the other hand, explored every nook and cranny, taking in as much detail as he possibly could.

"This way."

"What do you see?" Wyveryn asked.

"Footprints. There is a door at the end of this hallway. Someone is there. Can you see the light?"

Wyveryn nodded, suddenly growing quiet. It had occurred to him that there might be someone still alive aboard the vessel. But after all they'd been through in these horrific dungeons, he didn't want to take any chances. They came to the end of the hallway and pressed their ears to the door. Wyveryn looked at Tic and the warrior nodded his head.

"You open the door slowly and I will..."

But before Wyveryn could finish his sentence, the door had already opened wide. He tried to leap aside, but it was too late. The woman inside had already seen him.



"Who's there?"

She was elderly, with long silver hair down to her waist. There were lines across her face, but her cheekbones were high and there was some kind of light in her eyes that seemed intriguing. As if at one time she might have been a great beauty. It wasn't hard for Wyveryn to recognize an elf when he saw one. The body was too slender, the face too narrow for a mere human. But what was an old woman doing on a stranded ship in the middle of a dungeon?

"Who are you?" Wyveryn asked.

"Who are you?" She asked back.

"I believe my friend asked you first." Said Tic.

"Are you making the rules up now?"

"What do you know about this ship and what it's doing here? How long have you been here?"

"Long enough." She said.

"You're being cryptic." Tic observed.

"You're being presumptuous." She retorted.

"All right." Wyveryn stated. "We can go back and forth like this all night long. It's obvious that you have no reason to trust us. And we've no reason to trust you. But for the sake of time, I'll just tell you that I am Wyveryn and this is Tic. We and our companions have been traveling through this labyrinth for Tyr knows how long. And we're looking for some... "

"Your companions?"

"Our what?" He seemed confused.

"You said "your companions". Which would imply there are others with you?"

"Oh.. yes. But not here. Well, here, but not here here. They're back on the shore."

"Wyveryn, you're blabbering like an idiot."

"I know! She's making me feel extremely awkward! And as I said, we're looking for some... hey, is that a book you're writing?"

She slammed it shut. "I am not writing. I am reading. And that is mostly certainly no business of yours."

It was then that they noticed all the other books in the room. This must be the ship's library. Many of them were ancient looking, but the one on the woman's desk was of particular interest to Tic. For he'd seen that the author was Horatio Fitzigigg.

"Where did you get that book?" He tried to dodge her and grab it, but she was too quick for him. Old though she may look, she was nimble as a mouse. The woman grabbed it and clutched it behind her back. And there was a dagger at her waist which she pointedly grabbed the hilt of.

"I will ask once again." Tic said, his patience growing thin. "Who are you?"

"My name is Oriana," she answered, "and that's about the only thing you'll get out of me for now."

************************************************

Back on the shore, Aeroth was feeling very, very tired. His body ached for sleep. Well, his body simply ached. And Tyr only could know how long it would be before those two miscreants sent a boat back to get them. He felt his eyelids growing heavy...



The axe blazed into his vision. It gleamed a perfect gold, and then those initial "Y.L." seemed to catch on fire, grabbing him and pulling him into a dream. Suddenly he was back in Lux's old quarters. Back in Cöthrom. The old man was as Aeroth always remembered him: hunched over his desk scribbling on parchment paper. His back faced out. Only this time, there was someone else there with them. A child. A little girl with golden locks of hair. She wore a beautiful green robe, and by the look of her, couldn't be more than five or six years of age. It was impossible to tell. She peered over Lux's shoulder, examining his work. Then she notice Aeroth and tapped the General on the leg.

Aeroth felt his heart thud in his chest as his father turned to look upon him. The old face, that bearish smile... so familiar. He'd practically forgotten it. Even the smell overcame him. The mixture of cigar smoke and lavender from the flower pots. The General laughed and came to his feet.

"Son. I have missed you." Aeroth wiped tears from his eyes and let his father engulf him in a bear hug. He caught sight of the front door, and memories of the last night at Cöthrom came back to him. He couldn't help but remember holding his father's bloody body against the door. The wound which Marco had inflicted. A sharp pain filled Aeroth. He'd shoved those thoughts aside, but being here brought it all back.

And yet the dream was so vivid that it seemed his father was perfectly fine and happy.

"I... missed you so much."

"Now, now. We're soldiers, Aeroth. No need for tears. The important thing is that you're here now, and there is a mission at hand. Sit, sit. There is much to talk about. I see that you've found the axe."

Aeroth took a seat. "I did. It had your initials on it."

"Good. We wouldn't be able to be here right now without the axe. That's how I know you have it. You see, I left a little piece of myself in that weapon. Though it may not be as good as the real deal, when you wield it, you will have my aided strength."

"I will accept that with great honor, father."

The little blonde girl danced up beside the General and whispered something in his ear. He laughed and patted her head affectionately. "Forgive me, Aeroth. I'm an old man, and I've forgotten my manners. This is Lady Brillowyn. She's been here for a while now, keeping me company. I'm very grateful to her."

Aeroth was stunned for a moment. Then he nodded his head formally. "It is a pleasure to meet you, young lady."

"She says the pleasure is all hers. But listen, Aeroth. Time grows short. You need to get on that boat. And you need to leave this place. Get Brillowyn home. Only the magician knows the way. He doesn't remember, but you need to help him remember. Do you understand me?"

"Marco? But he murdered you."

A strange look came over Lux's face. "All things happen for a reason, Aeroth. And nothing can be done about that now. He is the only one who knows how to get her home. I can assure you, Brillowyn is the key. If she dies... then Okra will be the least of your worries. The balance of the world will be in turmoil, Aeroth. She is the key. Save her, and save the world. She dies, and the world turns to darkness. You see, Aeroth, whether or not people believe in a one God, the world still operates through balance. You've seen what happened to the world's balance when we removed all magic. Kaembra entered a thousand years of perpetual twilight. The Age of Twilight, as they call it. And now, that magic has been unleashed. Only it is washing over the world like a tsunami wave. Kaembra can only take so much before it breaks. Just like anything boy. Even steel can break if you add too much pressure to it. Balance, my son. Always balance. Remember that."

Aeroth nodded. "I will, father."

"And one more thing... it's time to forgive. Even those who don't deserve it. Wouldn't you say?"

The paladin shook his head.

"Very well then," Lux sighed. "For now, you know where to find me. She and I will always be here when you need us. Let that give you comfort. But move quickly, Aeroth. For there isn't much time left...."

And Lady Brillowyn danced over to him and whispered in his ear, "Take me home, Aeroth. Please, take me home."

That was when Aeroth woke up.

****************************************************************

It took a long, long while before Tic came back for them. Even Banger was starting to get restless. There were greetings once aboard. And questions about the old woman. There were even questions about the prisoner who'd been rescued. So they took some time to find out who was who and what was what.

Arabi-anea was an elven girl, a commoner from Black Alder. It was clear she was a native, with her dark skin and dark brown hair. They had manes like their midnight colored fire steeds. Arabi-anea seemed to be a girl of few words, but it was hard to tell if that was just her personality or if it stemmed from the horrors she'd experienced in the dungeons of Stonehold. She did confess to them that she'd been captured on Redemption Day, which would mean that she'd been here for six weeks. She seemed stunned that it was already spring. When last she'd seen the light of day, it had still been winter. And she'd been with her horse, Dae-vin, whom she seemed disoriented without. This made sense, considering Alderans were given a horse shortly after their birth, and bonded with it as they grew. Rarely were they ever seen without one. And Arabi-anea had been on foot for weeks now. No contact with her animal. She was clearly devastated that it could be hurt, injured, or dead. But there was no way of knowing.

They asked her how she'd been captured, and she answered only that she'd been walking with Dae-vin in the woods. Then a hand covered her mouth and that was the last thing she remembered. She'd awoken in the dungeon. It was a horrific nightmare that she was still not fully certain she'd escaped from.

Oriana was still being very cryptic. It was amusing or annoying depending on how you looked at it. But they were at least able to gather that she had not be aboard this ship when it had crashed here. She'd been here for at least a week. And according to her, all this old barge needed was a little wind.

"Well, why didn't you say so earlier?" Asked Wolfric. "I can give it some wind if someone helps to mend the sails."

"It looks like we have some work ahead of us." Said Aeroth. "And everyone needs to pull their own weight. If we're going to get out of here, we have to work together. All of us. Arabi-anea and Oriana, I'd like for you to tend to the sails. Wyveryn, there is water below deck that we need to start taking out in buckets. I'll put you to that task. And when others are finished, you should join Wyveryn. Banger, Tic... see about the anchor. And Marco, I need to talk to you..."

************************************



They worked diligently throughout the night. Soon the sails resembled their former glory, and though Wolfric doubted his ability to generate the much needed wind power, he mustered up all his strength and blew.

"He needs help!" Cried old Oriana. "Banger, to the helm. Grab the wheel! Wyveryn, Tic, tighten the ropes. We need those sails taught!"

"Do as she says!" Barked the paladin. "Sail, dammit! Sail!"

As if the ship bowed to Aeroth's will, they heard a thunderous creak and then the whole vessel wrenched forward. The sails filled with wind and they were floating on the lake in the middle of the endless cave. A cheer came over the deck. They'd done it! And after all they'd been through, Aeroth suddenly felt a surge of pride for his companions. It was, perhaps, the first time they'd ever worked together as a unit to achieve something. He'd never been given the chance to command an army. But this must been what General Lux felt when everything worked like a finely tuned machine. This was what baby Brillowyn had been trying to get them to do since the first moment they'd found her. Why was it so hard for them to trust each other? Why was everything always so hard?

He kept wondering these things as he caught Tic slip his arm gently around Banger's waist. It would seem the bond was growing tighter amongst some more than others.

*************************************************************


They sailed for a week, it seemed. Thankfully there was food below deck. It wasn't good food. But it was nourishment. Oriana was able to show them where everything was. Even the little nooks and crannies. She'd proved to be very helpful. But she was still mysterious and cryptic. Aeroth did not care for that. He'd had enough mysteries in the last few months to last a lifetime.

There was one incident between Oriana and Banger. The old woman had brought the book up with her when she'd emerged from the hatch. And of course, this was the book that Tic had noticed was written by Horatio. As the others got wind of that, there was many questions. The old woman seemed loath to answer, almost as if she enjoyed toying with them like fish. It got so that the questions escalated. Voice raised. Yelling began. And then the threats.

It was Aurora who took matters into her own hands by snatching the book and holding it up for all to see. "This is what divides us. Pages. Pages in a book. Is it really worth all the secrets, old woman? Are these pages really worth dividing a crew? A crew which has helped you get this ship out of here. And will help you get out of Stonehold."

When Oriana tried to grab for it, Aurora held it out of her reach. "I don't like lies, old woman. And that goes for all of you. I'm tired of omissions. Of partial truths. It's time we lay things out as they are. That we tell it like it is. If there is something in here that pertains to our quest, I want to know about it. And I will share it with all of you. For gone are the days where we can act as individuals. There are things at stake here that are bigger than just you or just me. Any clue which will lead us closer to the end... I will take it. Am I making myself clear?"

Oriana gulped and nodded. The others hung their heads shamefully. All except Tic, who gleamed at her with unabashed pride.

Opening the book to the page that Oriana had marked, Banger began to read...

Dated the 2nd of Pentagrom, in the year of the Gael


My interest in the lost art of the Psion dates back to a childhood, I’m afraid, when it would have been much more convenient to will things be done with my mind rather than do them myself. That topped with the intense desire never to grow up thrust me into a career of historical study. Why history, you might ask? Because it is forever reversing the effects of time, and thus-allowing one to remain as young or as old as I like.

It was in the city of Tradesdale that I first heard the old wives tales. Long ago, in the heart of the Age of Magic, a war was raged. They called them the psionic wars, for there were people who walked among us in the Kaembran Empire-people who looked or talked like you and me-who could do things with their minds. Psionic powers. Telepathy, Extrasensory Perception, telekinesis, psychokinesis, precognition, and the like. Some were born with exceptional gifts, if you will. Many thrived under these talents. Others abused them. Such is human nature, after all. Tyr discusses balance in his teachings. And understandably, the presence of Psions in our world frightened and threatened those who were not.

Thus began the Psionic Wars. A terrible genocide was said to have raged in our Empire, not just in the city of Tradesdale but all throughout our world. It was in these years that the Great Divide was built, separating the north from the south. Nowhere seemed to be safe. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, even babies… none were safe from persecution as the wars raged on.

It is at this point in my story that I come to what intrigued me the most. There are tales of a young mother who, in a desperate attempt to hide her psionic son from certain death, she hid him along with several other boys in an old, rotted warehouse. She instructed him never for any reason whatsoever to leave that house, and to await for her return. For until she came back, he would not be safe. And she promised to come back as soon as she could. So then-here’s the interesting part-she cast a spell on it. The house, rather. In all my years of magical study, I have never come across such a spell, nor have I ever been able to deduce how it was done. The spell kept all within the old warehouse the same age. A spell of eternal youth, if you will. I believe this was done so that no matter how many years passed by, the young mother could return to her child and they could pick up where they left off.

But days passed. And then weeks. And then months. She did not return.

The boys, of course, had to survive. There was food in the warehouse. And water. But it ran out quickly. And though they were terrified to venture outside, they did so at night-stealing what they could. At first it seemed like the spell would last inside the Warehouse and out. But soon they were horrified to discover that should they leave the warehouse for more than 24-hours, their true age would catch up with them and they would quickly and painfully die.

This warehouse came to be known as the House of Rot, and the boys were known as the Forgotten Children. None of them knew how long they’d lived their, but as more and more came to the house, they built a structured government amongst themselves-giving each other code names. Some of them, I believe, went by several names, as they believed it vital for no one outside the House to know their true identities.

They developed customs and rituals. And eventually a leader emerged-none other than the boy who’s mother had cast the spell on the House. In earlier readings they seemed to refer to him as the Boss. But on several occasions, I’ve come across the name “Peter Skyfe”. I believe that was his true name, though I’ve yet to verify it.

I’ve collected the names and nicknames of some of the others. The Brain, was one of the smaller boys who came to them in later years. And the Quiet One, whom I believe was Peter’s closest confidant.

And now to the reason I’ve written this book. Peter was a scientist. He used to the top floor of the House for his experiments. For ages, he tried to find a way to leave the house and retain his youth. After years of study, trial and error, I believe he concocted a cure. And with this, he and the Forgotten Children left the House of Rot and were never heard of again. Whether they died or lived there is no written evidence. But it is my belief that they survived, and I will spend my life studying how they did it and where they migrated to.

What became of these boys? These Forgotten Children? Were they ever reunited with their parents? Or were they always ever just that… forgotten?

-Horatio Fitzigigg

********************************************

There was much speculation after that as to Oriana's purpose for being here on the ship. Marco was also particularly fascinated with Peter Skyfe and what he had to do with all of this. Aeroth found himself wondering what Okra was up to. As did the others. It appeared to be on everyone's mind. Even Marco had mentioned that they would likely be followed by Okra's men.

And at the mention of Okra's name, they fell into another collective dream. It had been some time since baby Brillowyn had joined them. And together, they returned to Stonehold for a glimpse inside Okra's quarters.




It appeared that Oriana and Arabi-anea had felt the dream as well. So that settled it. They were now a part of the mission, whether they liked it or not. By the dazed expressions on their faces, they likely had no idea what they were getting into.

Then Wyveryn heard what sounded like a waterfall ahead.

Tic heard it, too.

But as they grew closer, they found that the water was not actually falling. It was rising.

"A water... up?" Wolfric said in wonder.

"It would appear so." Said Marco.

"Can you steer the ship away from it?" Asked Aeroth.

"No. The ship seems to want to go towards it. The water is moving it in that direction. I don't have enough strength to pull us back."

"Then it looks as if we're going forward."

As they did, the bow of the ship tilted upward. Slowly... ever so slowly.. they began to tilt.

"Everyone attach yourself to something. And don't let go! Now! Now!" Aeroth barked the order. The crew willingly and frantically found anything they could to fasten themselves to the deck.

"My books!" Cried Oriana.

"... Will have to remain where they are!" Aeroth cried back. "Hang on. We're going for a ride!"

Up, and up and up they went, until the ship was fully vertical. The water up carried them up through the mountain until their ears popped. And then at long last, they leveled out and sailed to a cave opening where the lake came to an end. Dazed, they grabbed what little belongings they had and emerged into the sunlight.



It hurt Arabi-anea's eyes, for she'd been in the dungeons the longest. But she didn't seem to care. For they were at the top of Mount Mythical, on a landing of some sort. And she was alive, and quite happy to be so! The snow capped mountain was brusque; the air was thin.

They stood upon a platform with ancient engravings. Clearly this structure must have been built during the Age of Magic. There are symbols and runes, pictures and figures in several different languages. One of them was elven. Most of them were not legible to the company of weary travelers. The wind was heavy, but thankfully it was early spring, and not mid-winter. It was bearable, though frightfully cold. Aeroth longed for his old winter cloak that he would wrap around him when the caves of Cöthrom grew cold and windy.

"What is this place?" Asked Wyveryn.



"Tyr's Landing." Marco explained, running his hands along the rune carvings. "It was once a place for as a landing for creatures of flight. Dragons... pegasus... but primarily it was a base for eagles."

"Eagles? Why eagles?"

"Not just any eagles, Wyveryn. Great Eagles. The kind a man could fly upon. During the Age of Magic, it was a common way for men to travel. There are landings all over the Empire. Two to the south; near Tradesdale on Mount Sléa and at the top of Mount Cöthrom. And three to the north; one in Matsudai, one in the Duchy, and one on Mount Mythical in the Barrow of Mythical Creatures. We much be at the top of Mount Mythical. There was said to have been one at the highest towers of Stonehold, but my guess is those were torn down long ago."

"Mount Mythical. We're all the way up there?!" Wyveryn couldn't believe it.

"That city in the distance..." Wolfric asked, pointing to a wall of smoke. "Where is that? It looks like a war."

They all peered to where he indicated. Marco's face went white.

"That's Black Alder."

"What?" Arabi-anea looked shocked. "It can't be!"

"He's right." Said Tic. "According to the map."

"But what's happening? Why is it burning?" She looked almost frantic.

Wolfric put a hand on her shoulder. "It must mean that Paladonia has finally turned against the Empire. She refused the hand of marriage offered to her by Cardinal Okra. My guess is she, like a Mach Ronan princess here, prefers to marry of her own accord."

Banger blushed.

"And so Okra would turn his forces against my people?!" Arabi-anea looked aghast.

"Simeon Okra will do anything he deems necessary for personal gain. Fear not, little one. Paladonia is a force to be reckoned with. She will never let Black Alder fall. And there are many who will come to her aid. Mainly King Sameh, her neighbor in Matsudai."

"As well as the Boreal Duke." Chimed in Wolfric.

"I found something." Said Wyveryn. He pointed to a slot in the landing. "It says 'COIN'."

"Indeed it does." Said Marco.

"I don't think we should--"

"You never think we should do anything, Aeroth." Wyveryn muttered.

"Perhaps I"ll give it a go..." Said Oriana. And she dropped a coin in the slot.

Nothing happened.

"Well, now. That was an unfortunate waste." She said with disappointment.

"Wait. Look!" Marco pointed to the sky, where the clouds parted and a team of Great Eagles bellowed their arrival. They were indeed a terrifying and glorious sight. Not quite as large as a dragon, they were could still carry the weight of at least two people upon their back. The group cried out in fright and ran for the cover of the cave.

It was Arabi-anea, a druid and a great lover of animals, who greeted the beasts when they landed.

"There there," she said, petting the largest one. It squawked and ruffled its feathers.

"I think they're friendly!" Oriana exclaimed in amazement.

"Well then, I'd say that opens up our possibility for travel."

"We should go to the south and help my people!" Insisted the druid.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't be safe right now, Arabi-anea." Aeroth answered. "I have complete faith in Paladonia. You should, too. Our mission is too important. Should we fail at it, nothing Paladonia does to save your people will matter."

Arabi-anea nodded, tears in her eyes. "I see. Well, I will go with you. Until I can return home, it seems I have nowhere else to go."

"Matsudai is a place I would like to visit one day." Said Marco. "But my gut tells me to go to the north. To the duchy."

Wolfric's face lit up like that of a child's. "To the north it is then!"

They mounted up. As Tic helped Aurora onto their eagle, he noticed a strange expression on her face. She saw him examining her, and sighed.

"I am uneasy, Tic. I can't hide such things from you."

"What is it?"

She shrugged. "It could be nothing. Just a feeling. It's just... I spent a long time running away from the north, you know. And now, these eagles will be flying directly over my homeland. A place I can never, ever go back. It is like dangling a carrot in front of my face. I long to go home, but it terrifies me because I know what would happen if I did."

"What would happen?"

She gave him a long look and said nothing.


**************************************************************

Tic gave long thought to Aurora's words, but as their eagle lifted them into the sky, he forgot everything and simply held on for dear life. To his right, he could hear Wyveryn shouting and whooping in delight, and Wolfric saying something about how he was going to be sick. In truth, Tic was trying to show Aurora how brave he could be, but it took him several minutes before he could open his eyes.

When he did, though, he saw a sight before him that he would etch itself in his memory for the rest of his life. The clouds parted and he flew over his beloved homeland of Kaembra. The grass was so green... the mountains seemed so small from up here. It looked so delicate and yet bursted with beauty. He felt a surge of heart for his country.

Aurora's red hair flew into his face. She smelled celestial, a scent specific to Aurora only. Nothing flowery. But exceedingly feminine. He drew her close to his body and felt her allow the close proximity.

There was something the passed between them during their silent flight. As though they were suddenly the only two people in the world. Her body pressed against his kept him warm against the frigid air. She felt so wonderful to him. How had his father kept her a secret? How had he not noticed such a beauty before? Because suddenly in the last few weeks, Tic's heart had begun to open a crack. And Aurora and somehow crept in. Now it occurred to him as they soared through the sky that he would do anything for this woman. And when this was all over, he couldn't imagine his life without her.

Tic longed to tell her how he felt, though he didn't want to break the spell of silence. So he simply enjoyed holding her and feeling her against him, letting the wind and her hair breeze past his face. Until he felt her stiffen and then he knew something was wrong.

"Dragons." She said.

"Where?"

"There. They must have known we were coming."

Tyr's balls. Tic called out to the others, but they'd already seen them. And there were too many to take on.

"Are the eagles fast enough?" He asked.

"No. We have to land."

"What do you mean?"

"Trust me, Tic. It's the only way. We have to land now, or they will catch us."

"Can't they just pursue on the ground."

"No. Just trust me. There's no time to explain. Dive!"

"Aeroth, follow us!" Shouted Tic, and their eagles dropped altitude. Sure enough, once they were close to the ground, the dragons changed direction and ascended back into the sky.

"They're leaving!" Cried Wyveryn. "We're saved!"

"No." Whispered Aurora. "We are not."

There was a large group of men waiting for them on the hilltop where they landed. Clad in leather armor and kilts, their weapons were drawn and they parted for the group. Though they were angry and clearly aggressive.



"Off your mounts, trespassers!" Cried a man with a thick Mach Ronan brogue. The party dismounted one by one. And as the last foot touched the ground, the eagles lifted their wings and took off into the sky.

"Who are you and what are you doing on our lands?"

"Now, please, we can explain everything if you'll just put down your weapons." Said Aeroth. And that was when he noticed that all of them were staring at Banger.

"Can it be?" Said the large leader in shock. "Princess Aurora of the Bengar? My wife?! You dare return here after what you've done!! You dishonor me, you disgusting whore!" And before any of them could react, he'd backhanded her face. She crumpled to the ground.

"Hey!" Tic ran for him in a rage, though his companions held him back.

"What did he mean 'my wife'?" Whispered Oriana to Wolfric, who said nothing.

"How dare you touch her!" Tic said seething.

"I will touch her however I choose. I am her husband! And how dare you trespass upon these lands, and ride upon creatures of magic! How dare you threaten me, the Bretnach! And you carry this traitorous witch in your midst. My men will take you to your prison, where you will be tried. But first, we will deal with my oh so loving wife. I've been waiting for this day for some time."

******************************************************

Once again, they found they'd escaped a prison only to find themselves in another one. This building was its own separate structure. And they were all together in one room. All, save for Banger.

From what they'd gathered, Aurora had been given to the Bretnach as a bride. She'd run away on her wedding night. This was grounds for execution. The warriors were cryptic with them, saying only that she would be tried tonight. And as for what was to become of them... it was unknown. The Mach Ronans obviously distrusted magic. So it was probably not in their favor that they'd rode in a Great Eagles.

The door to the prison cell opened and a man with a graying hair and beard walked in. He had the appearance of a seasoned warrior. He wore two braids on either side of his face, the mark of a Mach Ronan. His kilt was blue and hunter green plaid, which Tic recognized to be the color of the Bengar clan. He reminded Aeroth of a great deal of General Lux... only a bit shorter.

"Did the centaurs send you?" He asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

The man slammed his fist into the wall. "I'll not tolerate lies from your mouth, magic user. It is my job together to determine what kind of threat you are to my people. You come to my lands, riding creatures of magic, disturbing the peace of my people, drawing attention to us and possibly breaking several treaties with the Empire and the Centaurs. You don't ask the questions. I do. So I ask you again. Did the centaurs send you?"

"No."

"Who did?"

"Nobody sent us. We came from the south and we're on our way to the Duchy of DeargaÍn."

"How is it that my traitorous daughter came to travel in your company?"

"You're her father?!" Tic's question was accusatory.

"What did I tell you about questions, boy? I am her father, though I am not proud to say so. For what my daughter did brought great shame upon my clan. I ask you, did you bewitch her? Did you force her to run?"

"Run away from the Bretnach?" Asked Aeroth. "That nice fellow? She did that of her own accord. Can't say that I blame her."

"You come here and dishonor my people, and now you mock our customs?"

"How can I mock that which I do not understand?"

"Precisely, magic user. There is obviously much you do not understand. So let me educate you. My daughter was a gift to the Bretnach. When she chose to run away and leave her sacred duty behind her, she not only dishonored herself and my clan, she broke fundamental rules that have been a part of our religion and culture since the dawn of time. She knew this upon coming back here. And so, she shall be tried and then she will be executed."

"For what crime?" Asked Aeroth. "For refusing to marry a man she does not love?"

"For disobeying her father, and her husband. For dishonoring her clan. And for refusing to do her sacred duty as a woman. To bear children."

"Of all the backwards, twisted ways of thinking!"

"This from a man who rides eagles into Mach Rona. Stupid."

"So what will happen to Aurora? Will she really have a fair trial?"

"It is happening as we speak. And unless there is a man who is willing to stand up to our greatest warrior, the Bretnach, and claim her as his own, she was die tomorrow."

"What do you mean a man who will claim her as his own?"

"Our custom is that if one man wants another man's wife, he can challenge the husband in a fair fight. Hand to hand combat."

"I accept the challenge!" Cried Aeroth.

"Um... Aeroth?" Marco tried to interject, pointing to an extremely irate Tic.

"I will not let such an injustice happen! I will fight for Aurora's hand! And I will devour your mighty warrior for supper!"

"Aeroth!" Marco snapped.

"And if you so much as harm a single hair on that woman's head--!" Aeroth swung his fist and made contact with the Bengar's jaw. He barked in rage, and threw one back, striking Aeroth so hard that the paladin actually fell to the ground.

Towering over him, the Bengar sneered. "You're not fit to fight for the hand of my daughter. You wouldn't last two heartbeats."

"I will fight for her." Tic stepped forward.

The Bengar seemed to notice him for the first time. "You're small. And scrawny. You could never challenge my son-in-law and win."

"I'm stronger than I look. And I love your daughter."

Everyone stared at him. Aeroth rubbed his aching jaw.

The Bengar considered him for a moment, then stepped back. "Very well, what is your name, boy who loves my daughter?"

"Tic."

"What kind of a name is that?"

"Short." Murmured Wyveryn. Oriana elbowed him in the gut.

"Very well, Tic of the Magic Users. Tomorrow morning you will fight the Bretnach. If he wins, you will face execution and my daughter will die. If you win, you gain my daughter's hand in marriage. May Tyr have mercy on your soul."

He turned and walked out the door.

Aeroth kept rubbing his jaw. The old man could throw a punch. "Tic," he asked, "are you certain you want to do this?"

"I've never been more certain about anything in my life."

And by the look on his face, no one would be able to talk him out of the agreement he'd just made. There was nothing they could do. Tomorrow Tic would would fight for Aurora's life. And take her as his wife. Or die trying.