Disclaimer: I do not own Fable III or any of its characters or storylines. I do own my original characters and plots, so please do not steal. If you do, you will spontaneously combust and I will laugh at the ashes of your remains.

You all should know the drill by now, but I feel like I have to put a disclaimer just to cover my arse. Anyway, if you don't know me, I'm DuskStarDragon and I love Fable… so I wrote a story… a few actually. This would be my third, the others being In the Shadow of the Mask (Fable II) and The Family Black (Pre-Fable). I do have to admit that I didn't really want to write a story for Fable III. I didn't feel inspired by the third game… maybe because I thought it was rather cliché… well… so am I, but still. I wasn't going to write a story, but I did start a collection of one shots that are amusing and heartfelt. I began to become attached to the characters that I had created and the personalities I gave. I thought "Why not?" So here I am write a story for Fable III. I don't know if it will be any good. I'm hoping that you guys could tell me how it is going. It features my OC Aja from In the Shadow of the Mask, but you don't have to read it before hand, unless you want to. I warn you, it is a tad long… around forty chapters or so… a good night's read… or a few days… Now for a little summary

This is a recollection of events from Aja to Reaver a hundred years after the death of the beloved Hero King Alistair (Brother to the former Tyrant Logan). Alistair thinks his kingdom is safe, but he must call upon old friends to embark on a dangerous journey across Albion, Aurora and Samarkand.

Shattering the Shadow

Chapter One

Shall I tell you a story?

"What a mess," she sighed as she entered the once grand foyer, "I suppose he has no reason to keep this place tidy… or anyone to do it for him," she noticed the half filled goblets of wine and uneaten plates of food.

The stairs creaked and moaned as she climbed them. She had to watch her step. Streamers, plates, silverware and glasses littered them up and down. Bits of leftover food rotted on the plates and silverware to a point where it offended the nose. It didn't bother her so much. There were farther worse smells that she had filled her nose. She tried to hold her breath, but the smell seemed to have embedded itself in her nares. She would just have to let it be. The second floor was no better as she made her way up. The doors were flung open without a care and revealed a more disturbing sight.

A formal dining table made of solid mahogany lay set and ready to host a grand party. The most beautiful bone china was set with every type of fork, spoon and knife known to man. Stem glassware of fine crystal sat just above the round white plates. The plates were simple, but were embedded with a circle of gold on the outer most rim. A lace runner cut the table in half with its delicate design of interwoven flowers and leaves. A fine piece of Samarkand craft.

"Ah… my dear Aja!" a happy voice greeted her as she made her way to the head of the table.

She rolled her eyes as she watched a rather enthused bearded man get up from the largest, most decorated chair.

"Or do you go by Sephire… or Serphim… or maybe something else?" the man pondered out loud as he approached.

"Whatever you prefer my dear," she sniffed, "Oh Reaver," she held her nose as he drew nearer, "When is the last time you bathed?"

"Hmm?" he rubbed his whiskered fill chin, "I think it was about three…"

"Don't say three days ago," she didn't believe him.

"Hmm?" he thought once more, "What did you say Barry?" he looked to an empty chair, "Oh yes. It's been about three months," he sat back down in the large wooden chair.

She tried to hold back the forming lump in her throat, "I see," she pulled out a chair for herself, "Is bathing out of style or did you just want to revel in your own filth?"

"So sorry my dear," he slapped the air in the empty chair, "Barry where are your manners? You should always pull out a seat for a guest," he scolded the unseen figure.

"It's alright Reaver," she smiled to the empty chair, "I really never liked all that fancy stuff," she traced her finger along the golden rim of the plate in front of her, "Besides, I'm not staying long…"

"No, no," Reaver frowned, "You are a guest and I, as your gracious and handsome host, insist that you stay for dinner," he clapped his hands lightly, "Barry, fetch the best Chardonnay… oh… we're out? How about that Merlot? No… that one was gone last week? I know," he smiled, "Bring that bottle of Pinot Noir that I've been saving for a special occasion," he winked to her, "What do you mean that one has gone missing!?" he growled as he stood menacing over the empty chair.

"Reaver," she gently took his hand, "It is alright," she made him sit back down, "I have a simple bottle of grape juice and some meat, cheese and bread," she fumbled around in her bag, "but I'm not all that hungry right now," she pulled out the bottle, "How about before dinner," she stood up, "we get cleaned up first," she offered her hand, "I have been traveling for quite some time and I could use some refreshing. Would you show me the way?"

He looked to her hand and timidly reach out for it, "I suppose a quick wash would do nice," he noticed his finger nails, "Were these always so black?" he couldn't remember.

She gently helped him up and hooked her arm into his, "We'll find out."

Though she asked him to lead her, she was the one pulling him towards the bathroom. He was so lost and confused in a place that he called home for the longest time. Time had not been kind to him. not many things had been kind to him for the longest while. It was the lease she could do for a man that once had everything and then lost it when he gave up what was so precious.

"Tell me my dear," she pushed open the door to the bathroom, "Would you like to hear a story?"

"A story?" he frowned and scrunched his brows, "Is it a sad one or a happy one?"

"A little bit of both," she sat him down on the white porcelain toilet, "It is an adventure, a tragedy, a mystery and a love story all in one," she turned on the hot water, "Glad that's still running," she whispered to herself.

"Sounds fantastic!" he grew excited, "Did this happen a long time ago?"

"Long enough," she checked the temperature of the water, "But you were around…"

"I'm in the story!?" he was tickled pink, "Go on!" he giggled like a school girl, "Tell it," he looked to his left, "Isn't this exciting Barry?"

She smiled back as she stopped the water, "I will," she started to pull off his outer wear, "just sit back and relax," she set him down in the warm water, "Let me whisk you with a story that only the winds know," she gently started to rub his body, "Let you mind delve deep into a world that you once knew… but now have forgotten," she smiled as she poured water over his head, "Remember what you have given up to achieve your heart's desire," she lathered his hair.

"What… who…?" he tried to remember, "… Ryane…"

"Yes Reaver my dear," she sighed, "Ryane."