What was that about 'not being heros', Ivy? I don't think I heard you.

So this gant's back, minus his big flying beast. But he does have the help of three stone, flying beasts- gargoyles, big fuckers coming at us like nobody's business. We dismounted, one after the other, and stood there, preparing the fight these things and then take the dark rider as a team-

When a new voice rang out. It called the drake rider 'General Kale' and it was familer. It should have been, because it turned out to be Jules, who was calling both a challanage and a threat.

Being over three hundered feet away, I couldn't see him well, but he looked pretty duecked out in full armor. And after yelling threats and insults back and forth for a while, Jules finally raised his sword.

He flashed it at us- or, I realised when she and Meyone reacted, at Ann. Meyonne leaned over and, to both of our surprise, told her to go, that we had this. Today, he said, was not the day we'd die.

Ann and I shot him a look, then shared a look, and then Meyonne made the choice for us- with a roared challnage he stepped forward to meet the gargoyles.

Two of them swmaped him instantly and one turned it's attention to me. Big an' ugly took a swing for my middle, but missed by a wide mile and I laughed and taunted it, intending fully to piss it off. It worked.

To my side, Meyone took a viciouse strike at the pair on him, and I'll give you; I may not always like the guy, but he's damn nice to have on your side in a fight.I turned my attention back to my own dance partner, and in a few quick strokes it fell. Easy as fuck, and it barely touched me.

Therefore, I waited for the other shoe to drop.

And drop it did.

The ground under my feet rummbled, and I was less surprised then I should have been when that thing came up and at me once more. It was pretty annoyed at my irritating self, but then, I'm used to that. I've even started to enjoy it, how fucked up is that?

But I could see how this could go from annoying to deadly real fast.

If we didn't put these SOBS down where they would stay that way, they could wear us down throughly.I suggested, after a moment's thought, taking them all down at the same time, because when only one was left standing only one got up, and that nearly took us down. These fuckers had Meyone a gasp from dropping wehn we finally had the bad boys lined up where we wanted them- or more or less where we wanted them- and Meyone told me he could take them down or at least wound the last, enough so that if I was fast enough I could drop it after him. If we didn't take them all down at once, then it was game over. It was risky, but he had this cold confidence and arrogence that was contageiouse. And suddanly I felt that we 'had this', as he'd told Ann we did. I met his eyes and nodded with almost no hesitation, and then that huge, fucvking ungainly weapon he carried sliced through the air as smoothly and skillfully as anything.

It ripped powerfully and effortlessly into the monsters, bringing down all but the one, as we'd assumed would happen. I took my chance the moment he fell into stillness again, darting in like a smaller wolf on the heels on the alpha and it fell. This time, they stayed down.

Meyone was ready to cahrge into round two with Ann and Jules, and I barely managed to stop him. We could see Ann and Jules circling nervously, like two wary animals, around a ten foot tell metal monstrosity that used to be out lovely black rider.

We really need to start coming up with some more creative nicknames. Soon, we're going to run out of variations on 'dark' and 'black'.

And I absolutly refuse to allow even one more seasoning name. Period.

The oint has been lost- and it's that Meyone was about to rush into battle with this thing before his wounds had been even minorly tended to. I stopped him- and in retrospect, I'm surprised I was able to- and managed to get him to submit to a healing potion. Then we were both running towards our companions and round two of this battle.

By then, it seemed, Ann had wounded the thing enough to change him back, and one arm hung pretty uselessly by his/it's side. We watched as the two delivered the final blows to it's/his body and sent him crumbling into dust like one of his little minions that had been attacking Meyone and I. Jules told us it wouldn't stay down forever, but with luck, we'd be gone by the time he was fully functional again.

Then we headed back into Fera, us to see Carolyn, he to Jhonna.

We found Carolyn right off, this time, and so began the most trying conversation in Ann's life, because after last time I mostly kept backed off with my fool mouth shut. Unless I loose my temper I'm usually pretty good at delicate conversations (not the best, but not the utter worst either), but Ann handled her better then I knew how. She fast-footed her way through the conversation, being so careful, so delicate- but still, the girl knew. She knew and I watched with my breath held and my entire body tensed to run, to fight, as she grew more and more upset-

-and then, somehow, it just.....went away. As Ann slowly and delicatly circled the conversation around in loop-the-loops and worked the long dead little girl into realizing what we already knew- that to solve anything, we needed her to face what had happened the day of her death, the ones preciding it, even- the fire in her seemed to die.

No, I mean, the fire in her litterally seemed to die. As if you were slowly suffocating flames, they flickered and fell dead all over her body, revealing a pretty, solom-eyed little girl who could just as easily been one of the kids playing in Fera's houses right now, or doing chores.

Almost, anyway.

And what triggered this amazing change?

An admission that shocked us, or at least me, only half as much as it should have.

The historian's records were right. The girl had killed her mother.

Because she was a dream. And keeping her alive for all that time had killed Catalina, who'd wanted a child with Feldon so badly she'd dreamed one into life, and somehow even death hadn't ended the dream.

The ghost of a memory. Poetic.

Once again, though, it all came back to that fucking amulet. That amulet was, as best as we could tell, when was keeping the fate of Fera sealed, and keeping this child hanging around.

Something else she told us, before we left; actually, one of the first things she mentioned to us. Jhonna's daughter was actually, quiet likely, stronger then Catalina. Stronger then herself, even, and we'd been told she'd have been one of the strongest dreamers around, if she'd lived and grown up.

Gotta wonder how that woulda worked, a dream being a dreamer. Gotta wonder if she would have lived to be an adult at all.

Degressing.

Sonya didn't need that amulet, is the point. But, like the stupid, stubborn little bitch she is, she wouldn't refuse it. If she just didn't put it on, the whole mess would end, here and now, easy as licking butter off a knife.

But she wouldn't, because heaven forbid the herd gets frightened. They might all run off a cliff or stand in the rain with their heads up and their mouths open, stupid birds, and then what?

We left her at last, and then it was time for the Imparting Of Information That Might Have Been Nice To Know Before, Meyone, Thanks. Not that I can blame the guy, really. I mean, I have a rough enough time admiting to people something as mediocre (medicore? Maybe that's downplaying it a bit) as my lack of memories. It's private, it's personal, and whenever I have to admit to someone that no, I don't remember you, and no, I'd really rather not say why, thanks all the fucking same- it makes me feel like I've become, for a second, vulnerable. I get peevish and waspish to make up for it, and I don't stop being a bitch for hours after.

Of course, I'm generally a bitch anyway. Ask Ann. Hell, ask Meyone, that'd be more entertaining. Come to that, I'd like to hear myself.

My point is, if I get so testy over something like that, I can imagine how he must have been over the news he had to share. Something much larger then a lack of memory. More like a lack of anything.

Meyone was not- um, well, he's real, I guess, but he's not-

Meyone is a motherfucking memory. There. So much for trying to put it delicatly. So much for trying to figure out another way to phrase 'dream'. I'd be here all damn day, and he is not worth the headache.

Anyway, he's very similar in nature, I suppose, to our little girl. A memory or a dream that can be touched, (or she could have been, before), eat, feel, sleep, think, act, react and generally be. One that can, apperantly, get hurt or be killed.

One that can feel.

When he made his announcment to us , I felt empathy and no small amount of wonder as he explained that the necklace he wore was what, apperantly, was keeping him in the general state of here-ness he was in. That his entire family, his entire town, was dead, none of those people we'd spoken to had been anything more or less then what Meyone now was. It was sad, it was incredible, and it didn't change my veiw one wit on Meyone.

Yes, I felt sad for him; yes, it was all very tragic. At the same time, it wasn't all bad; who knew what could happen, with a memory trailing along behind us? None of us knew what, if anything, Meyone's pressance alone would change or effect. We didn't even know if he could be killed.

But in the long run, to me, he was still obnoxiouse, self-righteouse, arrogent, cold, stiff-as-a-spike- and a general pain in my ass. All meant in the most good-natured of ways, of course. I dislike him in the friendliest manner a person can dislike another.

So to me, this entire admission, this guilty confession, meant nothing for longer then a few heartbeats.


Whhhhat the fuck, waitaminute-

How sad- poor guy-

This could be useful-

Why are we still standing here?......

Yeah. My brain pattern, behold above. I have the attention span of a magpie, no?


And besides my own general lack of real deapth of feeling-

This particular ball never came anywhere within range of me, anyway. This? This was all one pretty little blond elf's ball to play.

Ann complained, in the past, that when Talron and I are in a room together, everything outside of each other stops exsisting. She could strip naked and dance with Ivy in the corner to some exotic music while King tapped out a beat with his claws on the stone of Befrengaurd Keep, and, according to her, we'd neither of us ever notice.

(In the above situation, however unrealistic and laughter-worthy it may be, I highly beg to differ.)

I saw what she meant, though, as it was happening here, now. It, much like Meyone's confession, didn't bother me. In fact, I felt very much like a younger sister spying on an older one, watching them; I could feel myself grinning and no matter how hard I tried I could not stop it.

Ann told Meyone that if it was any consolation, he seemed real enough to her. And he, more quietly then I think I've ever heard from him before, said it did help.

And then Ann said out loud that perhaps Meyone shouldn't be here when the war that was coming to this land started. So that he couldn't be- used.

Snap. Twist, pop, crunch, squish, crush. Moment dead. And I'm not talking poke it with a stick to see if it's still moving kind of dead, I'm talking get it out before it starts to stink kind of dead.

Aren't elves supposed to be a romantic concept? Wise, elegent, beautiful, graceful, blah fucking blah? If Semei Might Very Well Be Delfote Who The Fuck Knows Anymore can carry a moment, then why the hell can't Anjha-Can't Spell Her Last Name To Save My Half-Way-Illiterate-Ass?

He went instantly from quiet and almost distant to indignate and confused. Hell, so was I. There's a differance between undead and a memory, and she knew that, and I told her so. Of course he was quick to agree. I then asked where he was meant to go, then, if he couldn't be a part of a war that was soon enough going to be everywhere. While she floundered for a reply, he caught her eye, and again I was not there.

It liiiiiiiiiiveeeees! Quick, call a healer, this moment has a heartbeat!

Don't let Ann tell you it wasn't a moment. She can't do it with a straight face, anyway, and I bet you all the gold I don't currently have that she wouldn't be able to look you in the eye.

......Yes, I know you're a journal, therefore, you shouldn't have an eye. Nor should you honestly be able to have anyone 'tell' you anything.

I think I might be a little tired.

Anyway the point is that he told her that wherever she'd go, he would follow. That it was his destiny.

And I could no longer help it. I started to giggle. Ann was flashing me dangerouse looks and throwing threats on my life out on top of it, and Meyone's expression was helplessly confused. I started to laugh harder, and kept it up until we got back into town.

My laughter fadded pretty quickly then.

We were stopped part-way in by a very fasmiler ghost hound, but before any of us could do anything, a door opened in the air, and Sonya stepped through.

What? Casual is wrong, somehow?

Oh, come on, here. So far we've covered giant vampires, worlds of the dead, werewolves, ancient cities, beast-people, vampires, conspiracies, rocks that talk, druids, dryads, sea monsters, dragons, draconians, cities under cities, more sea monsters, shadow people, blinky spiders, fish tanks, elves, magic as a general whole, undead, terrifying monsters as a general whole, ghosts, people who turn out to be memories, stepping into the past via dream, generally evil and powerful men usually clad in black, and variouse differant variations of limbo, up to and including the Boneyard, and an entire slew of fuck all knows what else.

A DOOR OPENING IN THE AIR IS NO LONGER A STARTLING FACT OF LIFE. Thank you, that is all.

So she steps through, and what is a pretty fucking huge deal is that she dismissed the ghost hound with a casual wave of her hand.

She told us she knew what we were up to and that she wouldn't let us do it. She told us that she would not risk Catalina's wrath, and she would rather allow the curse and deaths to continue rather then piss off the woman we thought might reside still in that necklace.

Cowardice at it's best.

I knew I didn't like Sonya.

She wasn't doing this for the town, she was doing it out of fear. Fear like the rest of the people here, fear like a stupid sheep. Fear of the unknown, fear of power.

We were all afraid. I wake up everyday afraid. For myself, for Damon, for Talron, for Ann, for the people and- other variations on people- at both our Keeps. For Dagon. For Ann's Sparrow, wherever she may be. For two little girls trapped in the hands of a monster, and for two decent creatures trapped in the role of monsters. Even for Simon, and a werehunter who's name I don't even know and only met once. For a sweet little old shopkeeper in the citadel. For everyone I've met and worked alongside and come to care about even a little, who will be caught in this thing that we can all feel is building and building like one fucker of a storm.

For a while, that fear controlled me, made me not do things I might have done, made me second guess myself. No more.

Fear is a tool to be used, sharpened until it becomes anger which is refined to become purpose.

I'm afraid, but I am no coward. I can't stand cowards, and I was looking at a city full of them save perhaps Jules and Jhonna.

We ignored Sonya pretty much entirely and marched ourselves right up to Jhonna inside the city, anyway. Jules was there, too, helping her- she looked....pretty rough....and Sonya, as well. Who was 'helping' but more mostly shaking us like a terrier with a rat using her glare alone.We pulled Jules to the side- the shaking had turned into ripping us into tiny shreds- but the moment we started to talk Jhonna just keeled right on over. We had about two minutes for on fuck we've killed her before a wind started up in the room and did it's best to upset just about everything. Jules took off over to Jhonna's side, while we stood i nthe corner feeling useless.

When it became apperantly that Jhonna was still kicking- if weakly- and everything had settled down, Sonya was sent out of the room to get something for her mother. I don't even remember what, now, seems unimportant. When she returned, we dragged Jules away again to finish our conversation in hushed tones- as much as we dared say and some we probably shouldn't have. We wanted him to know everything we did, or as much as possible.

Funny, how the ones person I really trust on this island outside of Ann and Meyone (yes, okay, I trust Meyone) is the one man I know is hiding the most from us. How fucked up is that?

Speaking of being the only person I really feel we can trust, apperantly my opinion was shared, because we assumed we'd be safest sleeping pretty much in his backyard for the night.

We will learn to stop assuming things, some day.

And so we're in Aveendale. We're standing there, staring in amazment as our rides suddanly turn into creatures very, very much like the Beast people we know and love. Ann is about to faint dead away in sheer awe beside me as one of them adressed us, telling us it- he- knew why we'd come and that we had friends here, before they all let themselves back into their stalls and were horses again.

Then we had Company.

And we scattered like spooked barn cats.


We ducked into every shadow and avalible shadow, and then the old man entered and talked soothingly and knowingly to one of the horses, then calmly but firmly demanded we come out.

And some part of me trusted him.

So I stepped out quietly, hand resting on my dagger. He regarded me quietly a moment, then grunted.

“You alone?” He asked, or some variation on it, and to Ann's disgust I said 'no' after a long pause.
And he called around a bit more until Meyone and Ann stepped out. He greeted Meyone as a son of Jaradul, and and then lead us out into the night. He took us to an old shed and ushered us in, and for a moment or so it seemed like this was simply to be a place for us to spend the night.

Then I found something.

At this point, I had gotten pretty skittish of acting on my own- as I kept fucking shit up, after all- but I was pretty interested in the soft, perfectly round patch of wall I'd just found. And after Ann made sure it wasn't trapped, and I had given her time to investigate, I could wait no longer.

I poked it gently.

I poke things, it's what I do. Give me a fucking break.

I poked it and I broke it. I also break things.

Sand started pouring down like an hourglass, and Ann clamped her hands to her mouth, her expression nothing short of accusation.

Excuse-fucking-me, Miss I- Think-I'll-Slice-My-Hand-Open-With-The-Death-Knife/Run-Off-The-Path-Into-An-Ocean-Of-Goblins/Make-A-Deal-With-The-Giant-Talking-Arachnid-Person/Bring-Home-A-Goblin-That-Does-Not-Act-Like-Other-Goblins-With-Budding-Emotional-Ranges/I-Could-Go-On.

And all, of course, without saying a word to anyone. I have the right to do things my gut tells me to do, too, and this was far less rash then it appered to be. Well, as the sand fell away, what seemed to be a rock goblin of sorts that stood easily taller then this room and had to stoop over was revealed.

Frankly, what was going through my mind at this moment?

Not what you might expect. It was more along the lines of:

This is the most fucking incredible thing this is so awsome oh fuck oh fuck it's going to eat us I'll die happily oh fuck oh fuck pretty.

Because I really didn't have a lot of conviction that this was a dangerouse thing, this thing. And as it moved, we all became very aware of a distant, gentle brushing sensation, as if something was touching us, wrapping gently around us, we could not see. And it smelled like flowers. Like outdoors.

Anything that pretty, smelling like that, could not be bad. Right?

The thing opened wider, and wider, and eventually I heard a voice sigh in my head, like the sound a man makes when a great weight gets hauled off his shoulders. Pure relife. I recognized it, and it make me more curiouse then upset, as it didn't seem to be maliciouse in any way. If it was my shiney rock, and it had decided to start chattin' it up with me, I was comfortable with that. So long as it didn't play head games.

Amazing, what I was comfortable with.

So we stand there, me bouncing on the walls of my feet in curiouse excitment, Ann wary and watchful, and Meyon just downright hissing and spitting. A light began to glow, and the touch and smell grew stronger, and then suddanly we were looking at a beardless dwarf. Oh, don't laugh at me, that's what it looked like. I've not got much experiance with dwarves, but I've seen a few, and that's what he looked like, mostly.

And then I heard something along side of It's alright, it's safe, and that was that for me. So I stepped forward like a moth to flame-

-and Meyone's arm snapped out, rigid and halting. I had to smirk. He might not like me, but his do-good, knight-in-shining-armor brain just wouldn't let me wander into danger. I wondered distantly why he cared if I got hurt.

Why I cared if he did.

Strange realtionship we have, us two. Combine it with his loyalty to Ann and her strange tension-that I swear and will never stop swearing is pure attraction (ew)- it makes for an interesting dynamic within our little group.

I can't help but wonder what happens if and when we leave Fera; if and when we go home.

Home.

It's amazing how far away from it I feel right now, and how much I want to go back. Yes, okay, all this is my fault and it was my idea to begin with, and I mean to see it through to the end if I can, but that doesn't mean that I have never in my life wanted to see Befrengaurd Keep and the people in it I've grown fond of, or Shoulwater and it's keep so badly in my life. I want to make sure Talron is alright, that he knows we're alright. I want to meet my father, and see that sweet old shop keep again. I want to see King, and Ivy. I want to check on Simon, and be in the citadel I'm familer with and used to.

I am, when it comes right down to it, fucking homesick. Isn't that pathetic on way too many levels to count?

Off topic. Getting back to the point.

Meyone was gaurding Ann protecitvly and keeping me at bay, but the small man standing in the light reached out and gently touched our minds, a strange, pinging sensation, telling us to come with him and assuring us that it was fine. Without the words coming out of his mouth.

I thought Meyone's hackles could go up no higher. As for myself, I simply ducked under his broad arm, for I am short and can do that, and made my way up to this new person.

Ann and Meyone followed my lead. Abruptly, it seemed, I was sort of in charge. Which is new, because usually that's Ann. But they toddled along after me, and once that big creature had settled back in place and the door closed once more, the man brushed gently along our minds again, his mellow voice calm. He greeted each of us in turn, knowing Ann for an elf- in fact, he called her quite elegently 'Elf Maiden Anjha'- Meyone for being a man of Jaradule; and I couldn't help but throw up my hands and roll my eyes as he turned to me and said, calmly; "It's good to see you again, Semie."

Does everyone and their fucking cat know who I am?!

He introduced himself as Dagget, and I thought I saw Ann dip her head to hide her smile. Wisely. And then we were off in yet another series of questions, stories, explinations and concerns.

Let's sum this up by saying Dagget knew, oh, I don't know, everything about us and why we'd come. And what he didn't know, he got by gently feeling in our minds for it, a sensation hard to grow used to but not unpleasent. He explained that this was the only way he could speak with us, through this mental conversation. It was a mostly one sided discussion, and we found out more through him then anyone else.

He told us that 'the council' was finding a way for us to get in and out of Aveendale where our prize was being kept, but they hadn't come up with anything solid yet, nor a way for us to get back again. He told us he knew who we were looking for, too- Daniel- and why, and he also happened to know who had sent us here.

He also told me that his council just happened to be the ones who erased my memory.

Yeah, this people, in an underworld society beneath the city where the ones that erased my memory. Apperantly, Damien and I had been here before, too, been here a few times before. And I'd been here with my father.

This strange man knew my father, fairly well; and apperantly at least knew of Ann's, as well, though that didn't surprise me considering who her father is.

He also explained to us that the reason why my little rock might suddanly be chatty was because of the psy crisps around the area, giving it a little extra kick in the ass. We also found out a bit more about Danel- IE, he'd been trained by an 'entitity' and had been missing for a really, really fucking long time. He'd been the most powerful kind of person like him around, and if she'd grown up, if she'd been given the chance, that lttle dead girl in Fera could have rivaled him.

She had so much potential, cut short because of scared inane bitches in a tiny, scared town.

We also found out the beast with her was called a Nightmare, and they hunted people with inporperly or nuntrained use in the sort of abilities Cataline had, and her daughter. They'd been created and warped and were now evil, ugly beasts that should not, logically, befriend the people they were sent to hunt. It was a good thing, though, if this one had, because it prooved the hold that person who'd created them- which just happened to turn out to have quiet alot to do with the vampire monster those childern and we'd been fighting- was weakening, loosening.

By the time we got to the main area we were supposed to be, the main 'city', we'd gotten so much information denied, verified, contradicted or argued over that I almost couldn't take in the amazing sight in front of me.It was no Naubudel, but then, I'm a bit biased- but it was beautiful. Magnificent and grand and huge and elegent, I had trouble ever equating myself with a place like this.

But there is was, plan as the little hairless drawf under my face.

We made our way in, and were brought straight away to the council. I don't mind telling you I was plenty fucking afraid, here- I mean, this was the same council that had done- whatever they'd done- to me. But if they knew me they didn't show it, didn't even hesitate before they were 'pinging' us- all at the same time, a mix of thoughts and touches so loud and intrusive for a moment I thought I was going to scream.

And then it stopped.

The council's speech became more deliberate, more- communiable, as they actually spoke with and not a us. Now I could notice what they looked like- and some of them looked pretty fucking freaky, let me tell you. Huge, oversized heads that probably held huge, oversized brains, and way, way too many arms.

In the end, they decided they were going to send us into a place that was esentally a 'mirror world' of our own, a kind of another version of 'limbo', deeper even the our oh-so-lovely boneyard, to get Talia out. Because it was the safest way.

Seems that vampire-monster creature those kids and we were fighting was more then just a random whack job out for as much mayhem as he could cause. Oh, he was much more then that, and if he sensed us coming after Talia- well. It would be game over. This man hated those with power and he ahted wizards, and he wanted both sides dead.

So this was the only way to get in and back out without the man sensing us doing it. Dispite our reservations and fears, we agreed. What choice did we have?

Don't be heros, keep your heads down.

Since fucking when do we do any of that?

So we rested for the day. Meyone was dead-set agianst any of this and just about on the point of bursting something valuble, and I doubted there was anything anyone could say to calm him down. So we just waited.

That soft touch we'd felt before returned, and now it did things like make breakfast and help us with our armor. It was accompained by a soft, gentle voice and that scent, and it was always, always, totally invisible.

But it was sweet and dotting, and reminded me, strangly, of what a mother or a sister might be like. It made me smile, and few enough things do that anymore.

Meyone, of course,was just about frightened of her. Big baby.

The next day it was time for us to be off, and no one waisted anytime. We were given last minute advice, then the process began. Meyone clutched both of us like a child clutches a beloved toy and we clung to him in turn, none of us even a little ashamed of our close-pressed group huddle.

It didn't do any good anyway. About half-way through we were aware of voices rising in argument and fear as Something Started To Go Wrong.

Of course it did.

Of course it did.

Because nothing can ever be fucking easy. Ever!

As we're rotating, dizzily and sickeningly through blackness, suddanly Meyone was ripped away from us, violently flung one way while we were torn the other.

We landed safely- um, relitive term- on the other side. Neither of us knew what had become of Meyone. But when Ann took a step, the ground under her feet sent out one massive ripple, like a stone tossed and skipped across a pond.

Somehow I had the feeling that was a Bad Thing.

I didn't get much chance to muse on it, becuase before we could decied what to do next, we were plucked from the ground by a massive wind like two wayward leaves and dragged.

And then we were standing in an impressive entryway, staring at a man who we both knew instantly even though we'd never seen him before.

This man, who had plucked us so neatly from that other side and dragged us back here, right to his feet was the Lord.

We had options, here. It was either, we are so fucked, or wow, okay, so this is good.

Either way, the man had brought us here to protect us from our vampire friend, who he said he didn't belive was as banned from that other side as the council had thought he was. We found out morea about him, too; fond out that he was a weapon being used but a weapon that could also backfire at any moment. This man also said that he'd exected three of us; we expalined what happened to Meyone, and he could offer us nothing to make us feel any better. He could, though, give us what we were looking for.

He brought us straight to Talia. It was that fucking easy.

She stood before us, elven, blind, ever youthful and beautiful, with the longest hair I'd ever seen and pale skin, and a calm, gentle face. She rose when we entered, instantly sensing the pressance of strangers; Ann and I were trapped like foxes, unsure what to say or how to say it. Finally I croaked out a greeting- I think I simple said her name- and she turned to me, her blind eyes unnervingly on their mark. I told her we'd met before, and she knew me as the captian- or the one who'd been her captian for a while. I had to smile a little. Yes, here I was, in the flesh. And she turned to Ann then, knowing her as one of my- um, ghosts. Spirits, whatever.

We told her as much as we could remember, everything, from start to finish. She listened quietly, not looking overwhelemd or confused at all, which amazed the fuck out of me. I guess after as long as she's been alive, it's hard to confuse her.

So what's Ann's excuse?

That's another joke, people.

Anyway, her end answer was so simple, so obviouse, that it couldn't be al lthere was to things.

She suggested seperating the horse, the Nightmare, and little girl. Seperate them, she said, and maybe the spirit could rest in peice.

I highly doubt it'll be that easy, but it's the most we have to go on. And even after we left, it was still the most we had to go on. Talia could give us nothing else and it was the best idea we had to date, actually.

The Lord took us out to send us home, but he'd made a request of us before taking us to see Talia- that if and when we found Danel, that he should try and return the Lord to 'normal'- make him just your average, living, breathing person again. Because apperantly Danel could do that. He could have done that for the little girl, too, and I'll make a note for myself just in case not to forget to find out what was done with all her things, and maybe where her old house was.

There might be no point in my knowing, but I'd like to, all the same.

We told the man we'd pass on his message, and then he sent us back into the city under Aveendale- where, as I told her her probably would be, Meyone was waiting for us.

He was- differant- a little too differant. Too suddan;ly relaxed and at ease with the situation around us.

I put my hackles up and watched Ann do the same. He offered us an expliantion but it just didn't fly. But there was nothing to be done for it, so we rested one more day waiting for nightfall so we could leave Aveendale again.

While we rested and waited, we we enterained some more by our helpful little invisible lady, asked around about the clockwork mechinations that we saw everywhere here so like the ones we'd seen before, and found out that there people didn't use what the people i nthe citadel did- they used 'copies' of the real thing, which didn't last as long but were easier to control and wasn't, may I add, as sadistic as pretty much trapping a living beasts's essence into a clockwork body.

I also asked around timidly about Damien, but not as vivaciously as I may have in the past. I told you already where my head is on that one; I have my chain of events happening in the citadel in an attempt to get my answers, and what was I going to find out here that wasn't only going to frustrate and confuse me more? I did try and remember, to see if I did remember anything, and there were times, and places, that, sure as fuck, I could remember sitting with Damien, laughing with him, walking and talking, being with him and enjoying it.

I crammed it all in the back of my skull viciously and refused to think about it for the rest of the day.

I made my choice, damn it.

I did.

We were finally taken back out into Aveendale, pleased to see the world as it should be and wasn't on that mirror sidfe, and made our creeping, sneaky way back to the stables. The gaurdians in there agreed to give us a ride back home- again, we noticed the odd changes in Meyone, how he was no longer timid of these rides- and once again, it seemed like all was well.

Then?

The gnat showed up again. And he brought friends.

And yet more Drakes and infedels, but no vampires this time. For once.

So, we're almost home free, right? We're thinking, alright, we're out of the woods, we're almost home-

When boom, the world's biggest gnat decides it's time to erradicate the elf. Of course, in doing so, he's gotta go through us.

I don't think he had much of a problem with that.

And so, once again, we're off into a fight. For a while it was pretty one sided, with him being feet in the air and us being, you know, not. We hack at slashed as best as we could at it, but it was tearing into us until it showed up again.


The gryffin.

Meyone lept on it and then collected me, and we wound up leaving poor Ann earth bound as we swooped around in ariel battle.

Then dumbass me decides to get Meyone above the drake and jump down onto it's back.

I'm not sure how I didn't fall off. Not when I jumped, not when I swung at the rider, and not when the rider took us feet above the earth, and not even when we came downwards in a violent spin. Though I did wind up hanging onto the tail for dear life until I finnally got thumped off. I did mostly the work of keeping it distracted, trying to hold the drake rider off of Ann for at least a few minutes until she and Meyone put the fuckin' animal down, and now we suddanly had turned the trick on him.

So of course, like everything else has been, he ran away.

We took a few moments, swearing and grummbling, to lick our wounds, then we got on the gryphon again and flew back towards Fera.

It ditches us about half way there, though, and we quickly realize we have a problem.The Gryffin won't fly us into Fera, and there are about fourty billion zombies skulking around the outside of the ring of salt.

Meyone went all self-sacrificing on us again, and this time we couldn't stop him. He charged away, leading as many of the zombies off as he could, so we could get through. We then had to watch, helpless and frightened, as he fought his way back through.

He made it, though. Thank fuck, he made it. The only man in the world who could bully his way through a bunch of undead and come out fairly unhurt. I wanted to laugh with giddy, dizzy relife. We'd had one too many times we'd nearly lost one another now, and somehow we always seemed to get out of it. So far. Crazy-ass man fits in with us two more then I think he'll ever admit.

We were rapidly approched by Jules and sevearl frightened looking men; the change in Jules was a shock to none of us, I don't think. He was dressed for a fight and carried his weapon like a part of him, like an extension of his body. No wonder Ann'd had her hands full with him, if he was as good as his image suggested he was.

He told us that these things had appered soon after we left and that Jhona was pretty much exhausted, fro mher own impending death and keeping these beasts at bay; but he took us to her anyway. She did look worn and weak; but dignifyed and proud none the less. I have the feeling very little could reduce a woman like Jhonna to anything less.

We told her everything we'd found out at Mon Pion, everything we were speculating, found ourselves in what felt like desperation- at least to me- to offer something solid throwing her every bone we even thought we sniffed.

She was dissapointed in us. For everything we'd gone through, we didn't have one peice of solid, undeniable evidence or answers, and that's what she wanted. I understand it at the same time it irritates me. To her, to Sonya, time is preciouse. But they can't expect us to magically solve a mystery this tightly woven in a day.

I wish it was that easy.

When we finally left- leaving her with the items we'd found at Mon Pion but keeping the books with us- Jules stopped us before we could go to our next port of call.

He asked us if we even knew the story of Mon Pion. We said no, then I, at least, wished I'd not said anything at all.

The story was grusome. It told of the man who was Mon Pion, who had lost his daughter and wife and stole other people's childern to replace his losses. But in stealing them he couldn't make them love him, and he wound up killing them and feeding them to his dog. And when he finally stopped, the dog didn't, continuing to lure childern to the man where he killed them and fed them to her.

In the end, one of the stolen childern turned out to be his granddaughter. His daughter was alive, raised by another family unbeknownst to him, and when her husband chased after the dog to retrive the baby this alllll came out into ugly, blaring light.

In the end, to save the child, the man threw himself and the child out the window of the tower of Mon Pion, and the dog plunged down after them. The child survived- the man, the husband, and the dog did not.

You see how we tied this story in pretty naturally with the curse of the ghost hound of Fera, the story confirming many of our suspicions. I think Jules meant it to discurage them, in which case he was pretty damn far off the mark.

We headed back to a researcher, scholar-esque man that Fera had who'd helped us once before, to see what information he'd found for us.

Paraphrased? Catalina never made it to Aveendale. She stayed in Fera and had a daughter that could, in my mind anyway, only be one man's. Feldon's. The man guessed instantly that that's what we were thinking and asked us to make certian that we kept that little idea to ourselves. Feldon, he said, was a hero here, and to destory that for these people without proof or purpose was only stupid and cruel.

We'd just have to wait to smash their hero when we had proof and purpose then.

So anyway, supposedly this little girl ended up making the wrong kind of friend; the kind of friend who went around, apperantly, burning down houses. A horse who went around burning down houses.

Caroline denies until she's blue that it was her horse. And yes, I did say 'Caroline denies', as in pressent tense, but we'll get to that later, boys and girls, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, with this disaster occuring people wanted someone to blame, and you guessed it- an innocent little girl was their scapegoat.

People make me absolutly sick sometimes. I can't imagine what pathetic, cowardly sheep these people must be, to be so quick to place the blame on a child, a little girl who'd done nothing wrong and hadn't meant to harm anyone.

But hell, hadn't we seen much the same thing with Catalina, on the ship? Yes, the moods of those people had been influanced by that monster, but all the same they'd been eager and willing without any extra help to throw all the blame on one head.

Frightened people are like scared sheep. They bleat and run in circles until you point them in a direction, and then they mindlessly run that way until they fall off a cliff.

Fucking idiots.

Anyway, you can guess the end result, right? Kid ends up being killed, as, coniencadentally, does her mother. And who else finds the dead mother but Feldon? He claims it looks like the daughter killed her.

Yet another death blamed on a hapless child unlucky enough to be born with some kind of power, of ability.

Illoria mentioned a couple times when she was around that people, that her own mother, had been frightened of her. I wonder if it was anything like this. I also recall more then once seeing Ann scorned because of what she is- our drake riding friend isn't even included in that number, although he's a biggy.

Damn, people are stupid.

Degressing.

The fact of the matter was the whole point came around to Feldon is a two timing, lying son of a bitch and no one wants to hear it, so shut the fuck up and sit down. At least, as best as we could tell.

We headed out again and found Meyone, who was helping out with Zombie Duty. The things hadn't gotten past the protective ring around Fera- yet- but there were groups of people ready just in case-

well, just in case.

Night fell and, spurred by our discovery of the burned girl's magical dissapering body, I decided I wanted to go back to the place where Ann, Meyone and I had first come into Fera; the place I'd heard those kids. As with many of my choices recently, Ann wasn't too damn happy with me, but she agreed to come anyway. Meyone stayed on the entire other side of town, still on Zombie Watch.

I was surprised that either Ann or I even considered sleeping, with those undead nasties prowling around the outskirts so very close to us; okay, so many the door was closed for now, but how long until they managed to break it down and come storming in to eat us all? Not a very happy thought, let me tell you. And one that kept playing out in my equally unhappily vivid imagination.

Getting our minds off the Zombie Squad turned out to be remarkably easy; Ann and I started to talk. In a low murmur we began to speculate and discuss again, whispering through ideas and theries, trying to work out at least one other possible sequence of events. But everything tied right back into that damn necklace having a power of it's own, and Feldon hurting Catalina by betraying or denying Catalina and her child. After all, Felodon had a fiancee of his own- though I forget her name and don't much care about it, to be honest, as for some reason I don't much think I'd have liked her and I don't much care for her even in memory. Don't ask me why- I doubt any of this is her fault, and I suppose the correct person to be angry at is Feldon for causing this whole mess. Impotent frustration seeking an outlet, I guess. Normally I try and burn that off in violence.

But there's been enough of that.

Disturbingly, we realized that just about the only thing to do was go to Aveendale and see if we could find the woman Ann and I had spoken to in the dream; the elf-woman. But that was a journey in and of itself, and then there was the time it would take to find her.....as I said, time was pretty damn preciouse right now.

It was then that all thoughts of saving Jhonna took a flight right out of my head. It would be time to get to Aveendale, and possibly another day or more to find her and get her to Fera, or get information from her. And then journeying back.

Jhonna would be dead before we returned, or near to it. This was no longer a rescue mission; this was a mercy mission, an attempt to save Sonya while she could be, to prevent this from happening again, because there was no way we could help her mother now.

Maybe it sounds cold to you, maybe not, I don't much care. But in my head I sort of clicked over and Jhonna became a dead woman walking. If Jhonna was dead, I could focuse better on Sonya. So I let her be. No sense in mourning or fussing over it; we didn't come to Fera in time to save her and that was the end of the story.

Maybe it means I'm pretty fucked up, if that doesn't bother me the way it should.

Anyway, We end up dealing with the zombie squad's massive STONE EYE group bellow, and I'm not asshamed to admit we both squealed like little girls. But as soon as the zombies belted their usual littany at us, they all vanished. None to slowly, we went back into town and collected Meyone ,and the we headed back over to Jhonna but she's down for the count and Sonya is her mouthpeice. I have remarkably less respect for someone a quarter of my own age, and we just about tore into each other, we two, over weither or not Catalina had had an affair with Feldon- her beloved Feldon.

In the end I shut up and let her belive whatever she wanted. We left again, frustrated and tired of meeting dead ends- but then Ann took us back into the creepy direction-changing woods.

And there we got our biggest break of all.

In the deapths of those woods, we found the same firey horse Ann had been seeing, and beside it, a little girl.

On fire.

Caroline.

Her hair flamed, her eyes were empty, burning sockets. Her cloths were ruined and scorched, her skin much the same, and yet she was smiling. It wasn't a pleasent smile, if only because it looked like yet more flame waited behind that sweet smile. She stood next to the horse and petted it, and it, the animal of the dangerously black coat and deadly flaming hooves (amoung other things) nuzzled her affectionatly, the way a dog might muzzle into the hand of a beloved partner.

We glanced at one another uncertianly, then Meyone and I fell back, letting Ann take the lead. She approched slowly, with us right behind, and spoke softly. She told the girl that we'd come to figure out what had happened to her- and to her mother.

And that was the big mistake.

"Don't talk about my mother!" The scream nearly ripped the flesh off us, it was so fucking hot.

Nothing. Can. Ever. Be. Easy. For. Us. Ever. Just once, I would like some nice, normal, sane, living being to sit us down with a drink and a hot meal, and say, 'yes, this is what happened, this is what you must do, listen carefully.'

Just once.

And so we began the tediouse and careful process of quzzing and questioning a girl who could kill us without ever meaning to.

We pretty much just had a bunch of information confirmed, didn't learn too much of anything; like I said, she swore blue that her horse wasn't the beast that had been setting houses on fire. She also said everyone in the town was really nice to here, especally Feldon, and Feldon paid attention to her and told her stories and such and so on, to the point where our suspicions were confirmed more and more.

About the second time she roared for us not to talk about her mother, I started to get antsy. We'd asked just about everything we could, time to go. But Ann stayed, and chatted with the girl like an old friend. I found myself charmed by her, too, dispite everything. She was still just a little girl, and a rather sweet one, apperantly. Poor baby hadn't deserved anything those people had done to her.

She was just a child. A child had shouldered the burden of the fears and ignorances of adults, and suffered for it.

It wanted to go back and shake them all. No, they hadn't been the ones to do it, but they were the only ones I could take my irritation out on.

She knew the elf-lady, too, turned out, had heard her name spoken, but hadn't the foggiest how we could get back into Aveendale to find her, let alone without getting caught again.

We asked if perhaps we could ride the huge black horse, but that was a no-go....but apperantly, he had friends would could ride.

Boy, could we ever ride.

These were no horses. These huge hulking black beasts that appered when we finally angered Caroline enough for her to leave- we kept, stupidly, bringing up her mother, though it was hard not to- they ghosted out of the blackness and bowed to us. We bowed back and mounted- Meyone with hesitation and more then a little trepidation- and suddanly we were flying. These horses moved without moving, flowed like water under us so even I, who couldn't ride for piss and doesn't do big animals well, was enjoying myself.

They raced headlong down slops and hills, tore without stummbling up the other side. Their feet barely seemed to touch the earth, and they moved so rapidly I was barely aware of the dark blurrs that were the other horses racing along side me.

The day-at-least trip back to the city took all of twenty minutes, and gaurds at the gates?

What gaurds? They never seen saw us. We cleared their damn gate and the horses took us straight away into the stables.

And then they weren't horses anymore.