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.