Wanderings in the Waking: part 4

Conflict and Catharsis

"Angels were... well, still are... troubling."

-Ashley

Notes: same old same old. //~ ... ~// is Sydney talking, // ... // is thoughts in general. ... is Kildean

Warnings: This chapter means it when it says..."conflict"... it gets dark... and gory, Ashley has some issues in his past that come back to bite him and other badness happens so consider yourselves warned... Never fear, in the words of the great Madamhydra "Repeat after me, this is not a dark-fic, this is not a dark-fic..." (Hence "Catharsis") /right/, back to the regularly scheduled program.

The camp was silent. This in itself told of its uniqueness. The tents were in their ordered rows, the animals were fed and well tended, but aside from the tethered beasts and the distant birdsong, the silence was almost oppressive. Even the sparrows recognized that there was something /wrong/ with the area and kept their distance.

Cassiel's boot delicately touched the packed surface as he alighted in what should have been the heart of the troop's formation. The cook fires were cold, set up as a mere ruse to convince onlookers. Like many other things here, they were completely unnecessary for the inhabitants. From the space between two tents, a sentry stepped out of the shadow and methodically took short steps along his route. The child could have been no more than twelve, but his uniform was clean and his grip on the pike was sure. Sunlight glinted off of metal as the boy marched across the open square, completely ignoring the angel as he went about his task. His eyes were empty, glassy and flat like a porcelain doll.

The angel took his time inspecting his newest creation, wandering amongst the canvas and poles to peek in on the torpid forms of his soldiers. Aside from those who were patrolling, there was little to see. Some of the puppet-like men mindlessly groomed and tended the beasts, which shuddered under their touch. Others woodenly went through the motions of cleaning weapons and repairing gear. But most of them simply did nothing, ignoring the long sunny afternoon to simply lie on their bedrolls blankly staring into space. Everything was orderly, quiet, /efficient/. Cassiel smiled.

// Would that all mortals were this... pleasant. No useless quarreling, no idiocy, no caterwauling or laughing or constant questioning... It is so refreshingly /silent/ here. And /clean/ too... A fitting blessing to bestow. I've given them a /better/ life, and in return they will bring me even /more/ humans, and those too shall join with me and learn this peace... and I will be /strong/... What will you do /then/.... eh, Raphael? What indeed, I wonder... //

Another sentry slowly moved past him, face slack. The girl had the look of aristocracy about her despite her drab soldier's clothes. Her hands were no longer smooth and white but were definitely fine and elegant as they clutched the shaft of the halberd. Old or young, male or female, serf or noble, the angel refused no one. The Christian churches had not yet finished deciding over the merits of a woman's or child's soul in comparison to a man's, but Cassiel knew from observation that the results were exactly the same for everyone. He accepted their gifts unprejudicially, and gave his own in the same manner.

The army was ready. Spreading his wings, Cassiel rose over the camp and flew back to the city. Far below him, the tents and men shrank until they looked like a set of toy soldiers abandoned in the yard.

It was a slow process to make a soldier; the angel was careful to consider the risks. At best his current facilities could produce only ten a day, a paltry sum considering the losses even a small conflict would bring, but the constraints were well known, and unavoidable. He had been working a long time.

// Ideally, I would just construct more forges... but more than I have now would attract attention, and it wouldn't do to spoil my big surprise... Or I could simply stop trying to /collect/ their energy for a time and speed up the process... but that defeats the point... either way, I don't have enough fuel to justify either course right now. First we conquer, then we experiment... //

Slim foot touched ground once more and he assumed a serene expression as his servants scurried to make their reports.

// What /are/ they doing...? //

Ashley's large frame was barely visible even without the glamour that would bend prying eyes away. Draped tiger-like on a limb high in a convenient tree, he was surrounded by the soothing sound of the breeze, but paid it no attention. His entire focus was directed at the curious site in the distance. A normal man would not have been able to detect much at his range in the late afternoon haze, but the Riskbreaker had long since stopped caring about such things. His eyes, impossibly sharp, gazed across the border; and he monitored the army encampment.

// Where /is/ everyone? Is it just some ruse? Are they trying to scare these people by "pretending an army" when all they have is a skeleton force? //

It was an idea with which he was well acquainted, having seen it used to great effect several times. The tents, and even the supply bales scattered about, would be empty, army surplus; a handful of men would keep the fires lit at night and mount occasional patrol, but in fact the army would be a fraud, an exercise in intimidation.

// But I don't think this is one of /those/... it just feels /wrong/... like it doesn't belong... Something is out of the proper order here, and the Dark can tell. // Another sentry, a woman this time, plodded around the outer perimeter of the camp and the Dark gave another shudder. Ashley's eyes widened in shock as he deciphered its cryptic message.

// She's... she's not /alive/...? That cannot be... a 'cold one'? Without a WellSpring near?// The Dark's whimsical presence whispered negation at the edge of his mind, and then the woman's true nature became apparent as it pushed the information on him. // No soul... what has happened to your /soul/! The body cannot live without... and yet she does... they /all/ do... // Now that he knew what to look for, the camp no longer felt empty at all. He could easily distinguish the multitude of the hollow-people in the camp--some moving slowly, most simply laying prone, like puppets with their strings cut. Ashley suppressed a shudder of revulsion and grimly reached for his partner's thoughts.

// Sydney... I need you to come look at this. //

"Be /careful/, you ignorant ass. Break /that/ by accident and you'll burn in Hell for all eternity most likely..." The violent whisper brought Rolf's mind back to the chore he was attending to, and he carefully steered the wheelbarrow /around/ the pedestal he had almost clipped. Behind him, he could hear the elder novice swearing colorfully.

"No harm done. Don't let Father Adler catch you slandering like that, he'll have your tongue out in an instant..." The other youth's grumbles immediately diminished in volume as cautious eyes darted about the cavernous chamber. The Novice-Master's temper and punishments were nothing to be taken lightly. The boys pushed their mewling burdens quickly through the door on the far side, carefully not looking at the large pedestal or any of the curious conduits flowing along the ceiling toward it. The sphere resting on the pedestal continued to burn brightly; its shifting colors were mesmerizing.

The next hall was greeted with sighs of relief as both Rolf's and Hals' carts were relieved of the long wooden boxes. Two grim priests worked on each delivery, attaching hooks and pulleys to the crates in preparation for lifting them. Both novices had seen it done times beyond counting in the months since they had begun their labor; hauling fuel to the furnaces was part of their daily chores. When the priests were ready, the novices worked the crank and hauled the first coffin-like box high in the air. Its occupant, disoriented by the change in orientation, continued to whimper; bound and gagged as he was, there was little else he could do. The older acolytes guided the box forward and lowered it into the open space in the floor, careful not to allow the pale blue flames spilling out to touch them in any way. Hals grinned viciously as one of the prisoners, who had apparently succeeded in biting through the gag, began a tormented screaming. The ghostly flames flowed over and through the rough wooden planks to burn away what was held within. They always screamed. He was told that it was due to the ecstasy of the sinner's crimes being purged. They would remain in the pit for a span of hours, the holy light cleansing them, giving them purpose. He prodded Rolf's shoulder and pushed the boy out the door and back to their other duties. Later, another pair of novices would come with new fuel and assist the lay-priests in uncrating their newly shriven soldiers. The younger boy glanced curiously over his shoulder, as the screaming box fell suddenly silent in defeat and joined the other in emitting a silvery mist. It poured about in chaos for a moment, but then was drawn inextricably upward into the collection of vents above the fire.

"Surrender thy sins, and the Lord will welcome you home." His reverie was cut short by another sharp shove, and he stumbled out the door.

// Three names... and a puzzle... 'Romeo Guildenstern', 'Sydney Losstarot', and 'Ashley Riot'... three men go into Léa Monde, but it is only certain that /one/ comes out... so it /must/ be him, must it not? How I hate that accursed pile of rubble, it /smells/... Raphael should've made Bastium burn it to the ground twenty years ago, but no... he shook the walls down and trusted the humans to take care of the rest... /Fool/. They cannot accomplish even the simplest of tasks without our intervention. This only /proves/ that I am right. Stupid mortal, he thought that he could harness that power for his own use? 'Tis no matter, what is done is done, I will simply take steps to correct their mistakes. //

Cassiel's agents had been able to procure a rough understanding of the recent events in the south of France. The small kingdom's recent turmoil had luckily not grown into full-fledged civil war. For someone who knew the signs, it was a simple enough exercise to recognize that the long-quiescent power in the destroyed city had come alive with a sudden burst, then subsided once more. A full-fledged Right of Succession had occurred under their very noses and as far as Cassiel could determine, he was the only one who seemed to care. There had been no word from the others demanding information, and he wasn't about to bring it to their attention.

The 'Dark' had been a sore spot for all of them, even before Rome had cemented simple dislike into hatred.

// /Müllencamp/. // The name brought back several bitter memories of the powerful priestess. She had been mad, of course; not content to simply dabble and create as other mages did, she had made something /real/, a /legacy/. She had accomplished by insane inspiration and circumstance what he had aspired to for as long as he could remember. Müllencamp had become a goddess.

// That power, it should have been mine by right. Who better than I, who already know what must be done with it... but she /spurned/ me... and it was with no small pleasure that I watched her spurn /him/ as well. Raphael was a fool to even try. But in the end, even standing together with him, I couldn't destroy her, or perhaps I didn't want to... But banishing her from this world accomplished nothing... less than nothing... she's /still/ out there... somewhere... /laughing/ at us... // Cassiel tore his thoughts away from the maddening image, how she would still look exactly as she had that day when the countryside burned. Her dancing-veils had been a seductive shimmer around her tan and lissome body, her hair tumbling wildly over the tattoo on her back. She had laughed, even as she faded from view, sent /elsewhere/ by their joint curse, and her voice, as clear and sharp as if nothing was occurring, reached them as she disappeared.

"Do you honestly think this will stop /me/?"

The rapidly fading sunlight meant nothing to Sydney as he perched in the tree and stared out over the field. He was using senses other than simple vision to study the camp. Aside from a brief period of activity at the dinner hour, they had been observing what was for all intents a 'dead-camp'. The fires were now lit but they had been used neither for cooking nor for warmth despite the evening's coolness. Instead of the merry chaos that usually signified the call to dinner in such a group, the flat chiming tone echoed hollowly. The zombie-like residents had simply all arisen en masse and formed a silent line for their wedge of bread and cup of water, returning to their tents to eat in silence and resume whatever activity had consumed their time previously. Sydney was irresistibly reminded of a clockwork toy he once had as a child.

//~ 'Tis a most remarkable spell, I'll grant you that... ~//

"'Tis abhorrent, Sydney. What has been done to them?!"

//~ You mean 'How.' /How/ was this done to them... you already know 'what'... they're soul-less... empty vessels... well /no/, not /empty/... but certainly not who they were... ~//

The Riskbreaker shot the softly glowing shade an irritated look before dropping silently out of the tree. "Well, come on then, let's go and see." Even with the additional encumbrance of his new scraps of armor and the shield strapped to his back, the knight moved with stealthy grace through the gathering shadows. The mage trailed after, a faintly flickering collection of light. They alerted none of the patrols as they closely skirted the camp but, seeing no reason to stop, Ashley pressed forward, moving further east and away from the border. Once beyond the troops, they found themselves on an empty roadway. Trusting the Dark to alert him of any others nearby, the Riskbreaker broke into a ground-eating lope, unwilling to waste any time in the open when all of his answers were waiting for him in the small kingdom's capitol. The night breezes were gentle and cool as he ran tirelessly onward. Sydney's ghostly presence sometimes glided at his side, other times darting ahead or behind to investigate.

//~ It seems that you assumed a'rightly, Riskbreaker, these villages are all completely abandoned, and look to have been so for some time... ~//

// 'People in boxes'... // The knight wasted no breath, flowing like a dark shadow down the long highway. For all of his caution there were no problems; the army's majority was positioned in a series of camps along the borderlands. The center of the kingdom was entirely abandoned. The villages started to become towns as the dawn approached, and Ashley's pace slowed as he began to search for a place to rest the day out. The choices were many, each settlement as empty as the last, but he was hesitant. The dead towns set his nerves on edge. Finally the sun began to rise, necessitating a decision, and he came to stop in the center of a tidy town square.

"Sydney, where would you hide something that was by nature /dark/..."

//~ Still feeling battle-shy, I see... well, with other /dark/ things, I suppose... but I doubt you relish the thought of sleeping in a graveyard or the like... ~//

"Indeed. But I will if I must."

//~ Hmmm, what about a church? ~//

"What?"

//~ What cannot be hidden can be disguised... or at least muted. I always found churches to be remarkably useful; they're customarily very near cemeteries and if it's a /good/ one then the amount of 'light' present can successfully mute your aura... unless you go summoning things... ~//

"Point taken." Ashley located the small building and its attending graveyard a short distance from the center of town. It was a sedate, practical place, with the priest's quarters attached to the main building. "Good enough?"

//~ For what? ~// The ghost smirked as a reflex, his attention directed towards the altar. //~ If an angel really wants to find you, he will. It doesn't matter /where/ you hide. ~//

"That's if we're actually facing an angel... I've yet to be convinced." The knight finally decided to use the small bedroom and pulled off the shield before lying down on top of the quilts. His tall frame easily overfilled the small bed and his boots trailed carelessly over the edge. Sydney watched Ashley settle himself dubiously.

//~ Yes, yes. Besides, if an angel comes looking... well, 'twould not be something you're likely to sleep through... Ashley, that /cannot/ be comfortable... ~//

"I've had worse." With the ease of long practice, Ashley fell immediately asleep.

//~ Unbelievable. ~// The ghost dissolved with a cynical snort.

At the border, the day dawned as calmly and silently as the day before. The soldiers rose and ate their morning ration as quietly as always and went about their duties or back to their tents. In the commander's tent, carelessly placed amidst a pile of maps, a glass ball began to glow. The simplest of detectors, it had passively sensed the happenings of the night before, and with the dawn mindlessly began transmitting its information back to its caster.

Cassiel lay on the silken bed, still too lazy to do more than appreciate the cool morning light, and smiled.

// "'Dark' presence detected at the tenth hour, heading: eastward." I do so love it when I'm /right/. Welcome, 'Ashley Riot.' I wonder what it is you're looking for... //

Languidly ringing for his servants, he sent out a brief mental command to the partial regiment of doll-like soldiers waiting in the courtyard. // Head west along the highway as far as the border stop and capture anyone you find. Search everywhere. // Cassiel had no expectations that the stupid creatures would find anything, but it seemed fitting to offer his guest a proper welcome. Should the Rood Bearer be stupid enough to been seen by, or kill, one of his toys, the man would be easy to find.

// I would hunt him myself... but he hardly seems worth the effort. I'll never stay on schedule if I allow these little annoyances to keep me from my work. //

Deliberately selecting the plumpest fruit from the tray proffered, the angel stalked off to his workroom to check on the status of his invasion.

Sydney wasn't the only one waiting near the stream for Ashley when he awoke. He blinked in surprise, but did not otherwise allow it to affect him. Müllencamp gave him an excited wave and proceeded to produce fishing pole and twine.

"Best of luck to you Lady, however there's naught but rocks and weeds in that water..." The knight moved to stand next to the blonde, and they both stared in bemusement as the woman 'shush'-ed them. Ashley raised a curious eyebrow at the mage, hoping for some explanation of events, but his only response was a simple shrug. They were equally at a loss. The quiet was broken with a tremendous splash and cry of joy. The goddess frantically pulled on the rod as it had apparently hooked onto something further downstream.

"A log?" Sydney gave the knight a baffled look. The Riskbreaker mimicked the cultist's shrug. Müllencamp continued to pull, making definite progress in reeling /whatever/ it was back to their small pool. She gave one final tug and something large erupted out of the water, to land in front of them with a sound that was more of a 'thud' than a 'splash'. The shallow water barely came up to its gaping mouth. The fish was massive. It also was a bright and rather unflattering shade of orange. The veiled woman giggled girlishly as she dramatically posed with her 'catch', and winked jauntily at the gaping men.

" /I/ caught it... /you/ can cook it..." They continued to stare in disbelief. She stamped her foot in irritation, causing a small splash. " /What/... have you never seen a woman catch a fish before? Come /on/... I'm hungry!"

"That... that's just not possible..." Ashley murmured as he stared the rapidly expiring fish in the eye. His mind was having a hard time rationalizing the appearance of a goldfish the size of a carthorse in the small bubbling creek.

"Try not to think too much about it... it'll only make your head hurt." Sydney's advice was the quietest of whispers as he hopped into the water to ponder the best way to /move/ the leviathan. Müllencamp continued to pout.

Despite the initial issues with exactly how to cook a fish of that size, it was fairly soon after that Ashley pulled together something of a campsite. With the two men working simultaneously, the construction went quickly; they simply fabricated what supplies they needed as it became an issue. Müllencamp's contributions to the labor were to provide the fish, a hammock chair for herself, and to provide artistic criticism on the other items that soon littered the area. The knight kept his thoughts carefully to himself as he complied with the demand that the pan be made an appealing shade of blue instead of a more customary black. He spied the mage smothering a laugh out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, Sydney...?" Ashley kept his face all innocent politeness. The mage looked up, oblivious to his imminent peril. The goddess watched the interplay with a knowing smile.

" Yes? "

" Since I'm rather busy here, would you do the honors of carving a steak of fish for the pan? " The knight nodded encouragingly at the cultist, who stared doubtfully at the now beached carcass and then to the 'blue' pan, and back to the fish.

" How? " Sydney continued to stare perplexedly at the proposed entrée.

" Usually you first prepare a fish by cutting the head off. " Müllencamp provided usefully. The mage's expression clearly told her how little help that advice was.

" Maybe a sword... " Ashley mused thoughtfully.

" Maybe /you'd/ better... " The prophet was already backing away from the daunting task, but his companions would have none of it.

" /Do it/, 'Troublesome One'. " Her smile was sweet but had a definite edge. Even the knight began to wonder what his initial teasing was about to become.

Approaching the beast in trepidation, Sydney procured a long cooking knife from the air and stood next to the head to begin flaying the gold-piece-sized scales. Or he would have if the creature hadn't suddenly /moved/. The blonde barely had time to utter a terrified squeak of disbelief before the fish had bent to the side and attempted to swallow him whole. Too stunned to react for a moment, Ashley simply stood staring as the fish flopped down once more, dead. Head and torso fully engulfed, Sydney's legs kicked frantically as he sought to extract himself from the unexpected development. Müllencamp laughed like a demented jester, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Shaking off his shock, the Riskbreaker rapidly moved to aid the trapped cultist. Avoiding the flailing limbs, he straddled the carp's head and, pinning the lower jaw with his heels, began to pry the giant mouth open. Sydney pushed himself free of the smelly creature and scuttled backwards, significantly worse for the wear. Wiping the slime from his face, he gave the knight a hopeless little look and followed the older man's gaze to the still chortling goddess.

" With all due respect, Milady, you very nearly scared me into the Dead Lands... " The blonde made a pathetic face and pretended to swoon. This provoked another fit of giggles from the woman and a snort from the knight.

" You're whole? " The mage cracked an eye to see the man wipe the slime from his hands and move to check on him. Sydney wished the slime covering his clothes and hair away, but did not refuse the large hand that pulled him to his feet. The blonde looked himself over carefully, more from ego than worry.

" Everything seems to be in order" Ashley completed his own inspection and nodded in agreement.

"Sorry about that." The big man's murmur was barely audible, and caused the man to look up in surprise.

"What? Don't be silly. She was likely planning this since that time She threatened to turn me into a fish..." Ashley blinked at the prophet's candid whisper. He was hopelessly confused when it came to deciphering the woman's motivations.

"Sydney, that was /months/ ago..."

"Like I said, do not let yourself think overmuch about it..."

"I think I have a headache..."

" What /are/ you two /whispering/ about over there... " Müllencamp had recovered and was watching them archly. Ashley sputtered for a moment, but Sydney was faster.

" Ashley just volunteered to filet the fish for us! " This silenced the taller man immediately as he gave the blonde an incredulous look. The mage simply smirked and moved to sit at the goddess' feet, conjuring a mandolin. " A song to amuse you, my Lady? This may take a while... "

// Touché, whelp. // The blond looked up from the instrument to give him a sly wink.

// Heh, you /owe/ me... do you have any idea how bad it /smelled/ in there? //

// I can guess. // The knight sighed and scooped up the fallen carving knife.

// It was worse, trust me. I'll keep her amused, you play with fish, that way she won't get any /other/ ideas... // Ashley had to concede the validity of the plan and, giving the long blade a practiced flip, began to segment the meat.

The flaky meat was just beginning to sear when Ashley felt a queer tug and the field around him wavered for a moment. He looked up from the pan and caught the mage's startled eye; but before he could voice the problem, the sensation swept over him again and he found himself once more on the small bed, wide-awake. There had been a sound outside.

Moving purely on instinct Ashley silently rolled off the bed and onto the floor. The well-draped window wouldn't allow any lurkers outside to spot him, but if they came /in/ he wanted to be ready. Soon enough he could hear slow measured footsteps in the chapel, and the knight quietly slipped the shield under the bed and moved behind the door. The long knife from his boot had found its way to his hand without him realizing he had reached for it, and holding his breath he waited.

//... Ashley?... // The Riskbreaker swallowed in alarm and projected carefully.

// Not. Now. //

// What's going on? //

// Hush. //

The connection didn't fade but the mage fell silent, feeling the fighter gearing himself for a sudden attack. The knob turned and the door slowly opened inwards, keeping the Riskbreaker shielded from view. Gauging the amount of time before his target spotted him, Ashley slowly began to alter his stance to deliver an incapacitating blow.

// Come on... just take that first step... You'll never even see me... //

" Wait. " He nearly hissed in surprise but delayed the impending strike. Müllencamp's voice was for him and him alone. " Do nothing.... It will go. " Ashley frowned at the instruction but obeyed. The stranger progressed no further into the room than the threshold, and seeing nothing amiss began to walk away. Following the soul-less soldier with his mind, Ashley saw as other men emerged from every building and assembled wordlessly in the town center. They once more formed a brigade and, still voiceless, marched to the west.

" What exceptionally stupid constructs. He's made better..." Her voice was cheerfully mocking. Ashley allowed himself a brief sigh of relief before responding.

" /Who/ has made 'better'...? And 'better' /what/? "

" Cassiel, of course... his constructs are usually much smarter than these... he must be aiming for quantity over quality... "

Ashley could feel his surprise being mirrored by the mage who was still listening in. " Wait. 'Cassiel'? As in 'angel'? You've met? "

" Yes. It was a long time ago. He had no sense of humor. "

The Riskbreaker rolled his eyes recalling the 'joke' of less than an hour ago. " Why am I not surprised to hear you say that. "

" Be nice, Ashley, or I may decide not to help you... " Müllencamp's voice contained a definite pout.

" Help? How? "

" Go to the capitol and see what he's doing, Ashley. I admit, I'm curious as to what he's up to after all these years... But first come back here and finish cooking my fish!"

The knight sighed in disbelief as her serious tone melted away and she became distracted by her games.

// Still there ? //

// Yes, what happened...? One moment you were here, then gone, then she's lecturing you... Someone attacked? //

// Something like that. I'll be there in a moment. // No longer feeling half as comfortable as earlier, Ashley gingerly settled back on the bed and deliberately shifted back into the Shadow-Lands.

He awoke at dusk feeling, if possible, more frustrated than ever at his illogical goddess. She had happily whiled away the hours with them, devoured steak after steak of the absurd fish, told stories and played games and never once mentioned /anything/ about angels. Ashley felt faintly proud of the fact that he had refrained from attempting to strangle the woman for the whole afternoon. Still, at least he knew who would be waiting for him when he arrived, and the goddess had given him as binding a pledge of assistance as she would ever likely give. There was nothing to do but to go.

// Who knows, maybe he's not connected with these priests, maybe there's someone /else/ creating these 'puppet' soldiers... /Right/... and maybe tomorrow the sun will rise in the /west/... // The cynical thought cut through the remaining doubts as he slipped from the chapel and began the last short leg of the route. He slipped into the empty city and toward the well-illuminated castle. Ashley silently swung over the parapet and dropped into a crouch, using the shadows along the wall for cover. His shoulders had itched throughout the long climb, certain that he would be spotted and dispatched, or that the angel from his vision would be waiting for him at the top.

// "And /who/ are you? How dare you /touch/ me..." //

The memory echoed over and over in the back of his mind: the angel, the force of the blows, the drop into blackness. Even for someone with no sensitivity to them, it was a chilling omen. // It won't happen. I won't allow it. //

Keeping a wary eye on his surroundings, especially /above/, Ashley murmured a word to the locked door and heard the bolt retract. //... must remember to thank the whelp for that trick... // Sydney's ghost remained curiously absent and the knight grumbled at Müllencamp's 'helpfulness,' certain that she was still monopolizing the man's time. // The one time I could /really/ use an extra set of eyes... I know I shouldn't depend on him so much... but /damn/, her timing is poor. //

The Riskbreaker reached the bottom of the stairs and allowed his instincts to guide him down one long dim hallway after another. He was perfectly content that it was leading him along the ground floors of the building and not up into the towers. Ashley had no interest in rooftops or their possible denizens. // Like the woman says.... 'crazy', not 'stupid'... // He paused the thought as a faint crying made itself heard from the next room. Ducking into the shadows again, he probed gently and found that he'd been about to enter a dungeon of a sort; over one hundred people, villagers in appearance, were chained together and to the wall. Most of them slept, but nightmares were plentiful and their fear was almost overwhelming.

// What is this? //

Not wanting to cause a commotion with his presence, he risked the magic to make himself unseen and to pass through the bolted door. The room was darker than most, and in the windowless environment the smell of fear and unwashed bodies was rank. Positioned tidily in the center of the room, and out of reach of the prisoners, were pushcarts, each holding a crude coffin. Ashley grimaced at the sight and at the obvious pile of well-worn restraints that were piled up on the table near by.

// " 'People in boxes', Ash, what the Hell does that mean?"//

// "How dare you /touch/ me with your /filthy/ hands..."//

Tam's worried tones flowed from the days before, joining the stone-angel's sneering cry.

// Enough. You're going to make yourself crazy...// The knight shook his head and purposefully moved towards the door. // Well... crazier. You can free them /later/... when it's safe...// As he moved along the colonnade he grew increasingly suspicious. The place seemed to nearly resonate with anticipation, and he turned every corner expecting an attack. But the customary patrols were strangely absent, and that more than anything was setting his teeth on edge.

// Where is everyone... is this a trap? Do I go back or push forward... // Ashley looked out between two of the widely spaced pillars to see if escape was feasible from the courtyards nearby. They were well lit, but would be more than sufficient in an emergency. His tension increasing with every step, he stalked to the far door and slipped inside.

The brightness in the room was near-blinding after traversing the darkened hallways, and with his back pressed defensively to the door Ashley blinked quickly to adjust his vision. It was made worse by the fact that the light source was coming from the center of the room, a large white sphere resting on an ornate pedestal. It was just the right height for a grown man to extend an arm straight in front of him to touch its apex, and that was precisely what someone was doing.

"Greetings, Sir Riot... I must say, I am impressed. You found your way here as if you possessed a map. You do not /have/ a map, do you?"

The cultured voice was faintly reminiscent of the one time Ashley had been introduced at court and greeted by the king. But the feeling of power behind it was something else entirely. Raising a hand to block the majority of the sphere's light, the Riskbreaker was at last able to make out the man's harshly illuminated features and paused in shock. The stone-angel stared at him a moment longer, eyebrow raised in professional curiosity.

"Well? Or do you not speak."

"I have no map." The single blood-freezing moment of shock had passed, leaving behind only gentle resignation. "Are you the Angel, Cassiel?"

The creature laughed, never removing his hand from the globe of light. "Perhaps... perhaps, little one. Although /here/ I am addressed as 'The Metatron'... "

" 'The Voice of God'." Ashley murmured more to himself than to the angel.

"Indeed. You, however, seem to have discovered the less romantic, if more accurate name. I feel justified in letting you come this far. You interest me, Ashley..."

The knight refused to be baited by the angel into a useless conversation. Instead he tried a different approach, careful to keep his tone polite. "Not to be rude, Lord Cassiel, but what /is/ that thing?" Hand still outstretched to protect his eyes, he tilted his head to indicate the sphere.

"What, /this/?" The angel happily caressed the brilliant surface. "/This/ is my masterpiece, the culmination of years of research..." At his touch, the ball's light flickered and shivered confusingly throughout the room. "Do you like it, Ashley?" The angel's serene expression sent a chill down the Riskbreaker's spine, and he chose his words carefully.

"I have never seen its like, but it is a bit uncomfortable to stare at directly," he admitted truthfully. This elicited an approving nod from the man and a short bark of laughter.

"Yes, yes it would be for /you/, wouldn't it... Come then, /Ashley/, come see what it is I have wrought. Come see my /miracle/..." Cassiel's tone, while irritating, was doubtlessly supposed to frighten the knight far more than it did.

// You're good, Cassiel, but Sydney was better... // The Riskbreaker played the part of awed spectator well, however, and keeping his true opinions concealed, he allowed himself to be led into the next room.

The blue flames still burned with their cold light, but even this brightness was soothing after the piercing glow in the previous room. Circumspectly glancing about as the angel moved, Ashley took in the hand-cranks, ropes, and pulleys, and could guess their meaning. The room contained little else; on the far wall was a table with stacks of clothing on it, and a second door.

"I was informed that you were once something of a detective... what do you make of /this/, I wonder?" The angel's tone was almost gloating, and the Riskbreaker decided to humor him, hoping the creature would talk more of its plans.

"I do not make anything of it, this fire seems unnatural." The Dark in his blood sang in warning of what might happen if he touched the flames, and he kept his distance. // Speak sense, damn you! I do not understand... /why/ is the fire dangerous? // The answer came, the same as before, a complex emotional tangle without any sense, just a hint at 'disjointedness' and then 'separation.' // /What/ gets separated? // In asking the question of himself, he found he could answer as well. His gaze tracked upwards once more, noticing the piping for the first time. // Curious. //

"I see you've found the key part already! Perhaps you are not as unaware as you pretend to be." Cassiel's smile was pure malevolence. "I'm certain you thought I'd explain things to you, but I suddenly fail to see the point. You'll see soon enough what happens here, /Rood-Bearer/... Müllencamp must be getting desperate for followers... you're hardly even a mage." Ashley took the sudden change of mood in stride, cautiously moving backwards towards the door away from the progressively angrier angel. "I offered her /everything/... the /world/ and /everything in it/, and do you know what she /did/? /Do you/?" Cassiel's green eyes seemed to incandesce with his rage. "She. /Laughed/... She laughed at /me/. /Together/ we would've been unstoppable, if the Dark had been /mine/... things would have been so /easy/... but /no/... she denied me, denied /him/ as well, but /me/! But /now/... now it doesn't matter... do you want to know /why/?"

The Riskbreaker met the angel's gaze through stubborn refusal to flinch. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"Because I have /you/!" The angel hissed triumphantly and released an attack like a shock-wave that lifted the knight off his feet, and slamming him into the wall. The stonework only withstood the blast for a moment, though, before crumbling and flinging Ashley backward into the room with the orb. Braced as he had been for the attack, the sheer force of it knocked the wind from him. The knight pulled himself to his feet, took a look at the angel's crazed expression, and did the only sensible thing.

// Müllencamp, Sydney, a little help?! //

The Dark within him flared to life with a vengeance and he clenched his jaw against the dizziness, sinking to his knees. Cassiel drew back with a curse as the air in front of him began to sparkle and coalesce, the goddess projecting her image into a realm she was no longer allowed to set foot in.

" Hello, Cas. Quite an ambitious project you had here..."

" Had? " The shock of the encounter had seemingly brought the angel back to a calmer, more cautious state. " My dear Priestess, my plans are doing very well... you have no power here, you can't stop me from taking him. " He gestured dismissively at the knight's crouched form. " Once he is subjected to my 'miracle,' the key to the Dark will be /mine/, it, /and/ you will serve me as you should have from the beginning... Centuries may have been wasted, but it will have been worth it..."

" Greed is a particularly unbecoming quality in people who already have too much, Cassiel. Neither Ashley, the Key, nor his soul will ever be yours to possess; it was pathetic for you to even try... Although I admire what you were trying to do, mimic my work... it would never be as strong... you cannot /duplicate/ the Dark. It just /is/. I did not torture or kill to create it, I didn't need to. With every death that happens in the world, it gets stronger; with every moment of cruelty, strife, war, destruction, /people/ make it.... /you make it/... All I did was find a way to control it, to keep it from collecting in pools and combusting like that Black-Water in the Holy Lands... instead I channel it, defuse it, use it as a force of creation. I feed it back into the natural order in a thousand tiny ways... What would /you/ do with it, you uncomprehending Ass! Destroy /more/ things? Destroy your /family/, humanity? No, no, I don't think I will let you."

The angel smiled bitterly at the sneering woman. " I don't see how /you/ have any say in this, woman." In their verbal sparring, Müllencamp had bullied her would-be successor further and further from Ashley, and the orb.

" Tell me Cassiel... how do you intend to catch Ashley's soul... without your precious /Orb/ ? "

" What?! " The angel finally awoke to the precariousness of the situation as he saw the Riskbreaker surge to his feet, a darkly burning blade already plunging into the delicate sphere's surface.

" Oh dear, I think he broke it... " Müllencamp's merry laughter and the angel's enraged curse were lost in the roar of the orb's explosion, the hundreds of trapped souls being released in a tremendous wave of light and pressure. The knight's form flickered and vanished in the instant before the pressure wave hit, but Cassiel was not so lucky and caught the brunt with barely time to pull together his shields.

//~ Ashley, can you hear me? ~//

The ghost stooped over the knight's trembling form, keeping half an ear on the argument between his goddess and Cassiel. She was leaning heavily on her Rood Bearer's strength to be even a shade in this realm, and Ashley was panting heavily against the pain. There was no time.

//~ Forgive me Ashley, but there's something you absolutely /have/ to do... and you're not going to be able to do it on your own... ~ //

Checking to make sure that the two more powerful beings were still totally absorbed in their verbal war, he placed both of his hands on the knight's head and /entered/ the trembling body.

// What the...? // As disoriented as the Riskbreaker was, the intrusion was recognized and challenged immediately. Sydney found that, despite the older man's occasional mental weaknesses, there was an impressive array of defenses to be overcome.

// Ashley, relax, 'tis only me... You were too inward-focused to hear me... //

// But... you're /in/ me... in my /head/... could you get out?... /please/? I don't think I can concentrate on /you/ and not passing out at the same time right now... // The knight's concentration was obviously frayed and stressed to the limit of his ability. The Dark was trying to run wild, responding to the goddess' presence, and her anger. Ashley's will was strong and well trained, but under the intense, surging pressure it was beginning to slip.

// I can help... but there's something we /must/ do... // The mage did not wait for his partner to give consent but immediately added his own strength to the knight's. The result was both effective and immediate as the pressure on the older man dropped dramatically. Sydney continued to take over more of the burden until the Riskbreaker found that he was the one merely supporting while the mage worked.

// Strong... // Ashley's surprised comment almost broke the cultist's concentration as he methodically anticipated the Dark's moves and countered them, forming a vicious dance.

// No, just experienced... // Sydney brushed off the compliment and his own embarrassment to concentrate on the job at hand. // Ashley, we have to destroy the Orb... Cassiel's planning to use the trapped souls to boost his own power and carve himself an empire... that can't be allowed to happen... It'll be like Atlantis all over again... or Rome... //

// He wants the Dark... // The knight opened his eyes and tried to focus on the goddess's argument, but the blood rushing in his ears was deafening. The blonde's thoughts, intermixed as they were with his own as the cultist 'possessed' his body, provided a bizarre counterpoint and only added to his confusion. // What do we do? // He was no longer entirely certain where he ended and the mage began.

// We use the sword.//

// Now? // Ashley pulled his no-longer-trembling limbs into a ready stance, hand slowly moving to free the black blade for the second time in as many weeks.

// Wait... // That thought had the flavor of the mage upon it, but it was uncertain where it originated. Across the room, the argument seemed to be about to draw to a conclusion, and Müllencamp's sudden wink was unmistakable.

// /Now/! // The Dark flowed down the length of the blade as Ashley drove it brutally into the smooth glassy surface. The orb's surface crackled like superheated water, and for a moment the knight was certain that the bizarre sight would be his last as he watched the power-level spike all around him. Sydney was already one step beyond, however, forcing the older man's lips to form the cantrip that would remove them from the path of certain annihilation.

Ashley felt his body land with jarring force in the field outside the city, but was still too stunned to acknowledge the painful impact. The mage's ghost, separated from him by the shock of the teleportation, materialized nearby and looked him over with a worried frown.

//~ You /look/ well enough... Ashley? Feel up to running? Or another 'jump' ? We should make haste to put distance between ourselves and this place... ~//

"Nothing could've survived that... not even an angel..." The Riskbreaker forced his sore body to sit, and then stand in order to turn and observe the rapidly disintegrating castle. The power unleashed in the rooms deep below the surface had erupted upward, and was now dancing crazily through and over the burning buildings before dissipating. The entire town would likely be nothing but slag and rubble by full daybreak.

//~ Do not be so confident of that... they are a hardier breed than you or I... better that we flee now, you're in no shape to fight! ~//

"I'm fine, Sydney." Ashley stared at the burning ruins, certain that something had been forgotten in the heat of the moment, something /important/. The realization, when it struck, drove him to his knees. "Oh dear god forgive me..."

The mage turned at the soft, tortured cry, and was shocked at the guilt wracking the usually stoic man, his eyes wide with pain. //~ Ashley... what? What is the matter, we need to go! ~// The knight seemed not to hear him, as he staggered back a step in horror then sank to his knees.

"...No... Not again... please not again..."

//..."Papa?"...//

Whatever the man was Seeing, Sydney was positive it wasn't reality. Uncertain what to expect, he dipped carefully into the chaotic thoughts.

// I /killed/ them... /my/ carelessness... /my/ fault... I've failed /again/... // The final moments of the prisoners lives were perfectly vivid in his mind; their screams of fear and despair as they struggled to free themselves from the thick chains; the awesome roar and blinding light as the wild energies surged through the room crushing all in its wake; then silence as innocent bodies broken and bleeding were strewn across the walls and floor, women, children, /Marco/.

"...Papa!..."

Marco screaming for him as his wife was cut down. The shout was followed inevitably by the soft cry that the child had made as the crossbow quarrel had taken his life. He /remembered/. The feel of the cool flesh in his arms as he cradled the lifeless little body and began to /scream/, rage and grief blotting out everything in a haze of red and black.

".../Papa/!..."

"... /Ashley/!..."

His wife, who was not his wife, stared up at him in disbelief as his sword pierced her white dress, her blood staining the grass. A distant shout of disbelief and pain, followed by another smaller cry, and both father and son were shot down where they stood. The second arrow had been Rosencrantz', but the first came from the bow in /his/ hand. Then came the feeling of separation, the incredible pain, and he found himself screaming /again/, but this time only in the silence of his mind. His hard-won reserve and coolness in battle shattered as he knelt, catatonic, on the bloody grass. Rosencrantz was shouting his name in fear and worry, but he could not hear it, could not respond.

All around him the bodies of the innocent bled and cried and blamed. Their faces twisted in hatred as they watched him and died. He knelt in horror as the bright white flames burned away the last of the screaming victims in excruciating slow motion, and prayed that they would come and end him as well.

"Papa?" The child's voice was so hopeless, so lost, and so sad. He looked up and froze, his bile rising in his throat. Standing in front of him, its arms aloft as if asking to be picked up and held, was a small, blackened skeleton, scraps of charred flesh and cloth hanging off it in tatters. There was no stopping the tears; and they fell, his eyes burned with them, as he ever so carefully gathered up the fragile form and cradled it to his chest. His mind randomly searched for a lullaby that the child might like, but remembering nothing but the sound of screams, he surrendered to the pain and sobbed in earnest.

"How /dare/ you cry.../Murderer/." Tia stood before him in her torn and bloody dress, her skin unnaturally pale. " You're pathetic, weak, /useless/! Why do you live when we are /dead/... What right have you to celebrate in what your negligence cost /us/! /Monster/... /Betrayer/...! Why did we /trust/ you?!" Each bitter word fell like a hammer blow on his raw and abused psyche. The gruesome form in his arms stirred and drew his attention down, away from his wife/not-wife's sneering face.

"Why papa...? Why didn't you save me?"

"Yes, Ashley... Tell him /why/. Why you allowed him to die... why /I/ had to die... tell /all/ of us..." The hiss of her voice sent chills through the man, and he looked around to see that the other corpses were slowly reassembling, rising one-by-one like the dead of Léa Monde. Their twisted, broken bodies shambled towards him, pressing closer and closer when he didn't struggle, too lost in his own pain and guilt to fight them. Soon his vision was filled with death, his nose and mouth with the stench of decay.

//Please... no... No more...//

"Please... Tia, I can't... I can't face this... not like this... it's too much... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... But I'll go mad... please Tia...please forgive me, oh god forgive me. I never wanted you to die... never wanted /anyone/ to die..." They began to claw at him, ignoring his whispered pleas and striking him with bony fists and broken claws, hissing and snarling like rabid animals.

// Forgive me...// Ashley sat still, buffeted by the occasional blow that landed well, receiving the additional pain with defeated acceptance. It was only a matter of time before they would be able to pull him apart, but he couldn't find the strength to care. // Maybe it's for the best... I kill everyone I care for... but I would do anything... /anything/... just please show me a way to atone, show me that there's some hope... I can't stay here... I can't...//

" /Ashley/! "

The new voice washed over him like an icy breeze, causing him to shake off one or two of his assailants so he could try to get a better view. However, he could see nothing, and the moment of hope passed. No... There was no one... no one left who would care... was there? Ashley's memory refused to cooperate, and after a moment he dismissed the cry as a delusion. There was only this Hell, nothing else was real.

" Ashley, /please/! Are you there? /Answer/ me!" The voice was back, a sharp tenor made harsher by fear and worry. The knight surged to his feet, desperate not to lose it again.

"I'm /here/! Don't Go!" He struggled desperately to break free from the melee around him, but found he was too weak. The Riskbreaker fought to regain some semblance of control, reaching for the distant point of light like a damned soul grasps Heaven. It was too far. The hopeless feelings swept him again and the fabrications of his guilt happily pulled him back down once more.

"Ashley?"

The now-gentle voice was much closer, and for a moment the knight was almost certain he could remember the name. There had been someone, a friend, someone who would worry if he was gone, someone who would /care/. Struggling one last time, he pushed to his feet and looked over the top of the roiling mob he was at the center of. At the very edge of the crowd, completely ignored by ghouls, was a young man desperately scanning the crowd for something, someone. The gray eyes swept over his and immediately back again before widening in recognition.

" Ashley? Can you hear me?"

The man looked gaunt and beaten, his face tired and lined with the age he would now never show. But in the distant dark eyes Sydney could still detect a spark of recognition. He wasn't too late. As if sensing his intent, the horde of monsters turned to watch him, their harrying of the tall man in their midst was suspended as they studied the new interloper. // I knew it was bad... I knew he was hiding it /somewhere/... the guilt, the pain... but I never /imagined/... this... this is verging on madness... //

"... Sydney...?"

The mage gave a thin smile to the demons haunting the Riskbreaker's mind. Their growls had changed from threatening to fearful, sensing a change in the knight.

"Yes, come Ashley, you're hurting yourself. Wish them away and they'll hurt you no more... 'Tis time to leave this place."

"... I can leave...? I don't have to stay here?"

Sydney raised a brow at the bizarre question. "Of course you can, you don't have to stay anywhere forever... least of all in a Hell of your own making. Why would you want to?"

"Because I'm a murderer. I kill everyone I am sworn to protect... everyone who has ever cared for me is dead because of it..."

The mob began to seethe once more, feasting on the raw guilt emanating from the soldier. The prophet resisted the urge to shove his way through them to the older man's side, and focused on keeping his 'voice' calm and logical. "Nonsense, and I can prove it. What of Callo Merlose? She loved you, 'tis sure, and we know that she yet lives... Then there is Tam, and his wife and daughter, they will consider you part of their family long after your hut in the hills turns to naught but sawdust and mold... You kept that grouchy hunter from dying how many times? And /they/ live too, no doubt very richly off the money those horses fetched in the lean market... Müllencamp loves you, if in her own... inexplicable way... and you have not yet let her down in the slightest..."

Sydney could see that some of his words were hitting the mark as the knight struggled to remember. "Ashley, dismiss these creatures and come talk to me... There is no need to do this to yourself; any sins you may have committed, they are not solely /your/ fault. Those poor souls in the castle... I am the one who should have remembered to free them. I'm the one who made the decision to flee. Do not take this burden wholly upon yourself... it isn't fair to the rest of us... let us have our share of guilt... come back..."

The twisted creatures slowly wavered and dissolved--not destroyed, but pushed away for the present. The cultist let out a sigh of relief as the soldier began to stagger forward. The man wavered a time or two, but was soon standing toe-to-toe with the blonde. Sydney could not fathom the look in the dark man's eyes, and was uncertain what to ask.

"What about you." The quiet statement jarred the mage, and he blinked up in surprise.

"What?"

"I failed /you/... If I had been /faster/... stronger... smarter... you wouldn't have had to die... my fault... I wasn't..." The painful confession was silenced, as thin strong fingers covered his lips. He looked down to see the cultist's face tight with anger.

"/Never/..." The smaller man's voice was choked with emotion, causing him to pause and start over. "Never say that again... /never/ blame yourself for /my/ mistakes, /my/ weakness... you did /nothing/ wrong... you didn't fail me." Sydney 's hands clenched in the man's torn shirt and shook him gently, forcing him to acknowledge the arguments. "/You/ had nothing to do with my death, and everything to do with my /triumph/. Because of /you/, Guildenstern is now burning in the lowest, foulest layer of Hell, and /I/ am contentedly enjoying a remarkably pleasant 'Afterlife'. /With you/, I might add, a man for whom I care a great deal. I defy you to tell me that I'll somehow 'die' /again/ because of it..." The mage stubbornly refused to look away from the amazed soldier's stare, certain that a blush was staining his cheeks. The word 'love' had been on the tip of his tongue, but coward that he was, he found at the last instant he couldn't say it.

Ashley shook his head in wonder at the irate blonde who was defending his actions. // I thought it would be /him/ doing the accusing... but it seems things have gotten rather muddled lately... // For a moment he could hear once more the distant screams of the dying, but he shook it off, refusing to let it have a hold over him.

"Sydney, what's happening to me?" He felt one of the slender hands untangle from his shirt and gently caress his face. The knight caught it on a whim, holding it in place when the owner hesitantly moved to draw away.

"You had something of a nervous breakdown... channeling Müllencamp, and then joining with me and breaking the sphere, then the shock of those prisoners dying...it was too much stress, you just seized up on me and started pulling yourself apart." The blonde gave Ashley a worried look and used his other hand to also cup the exhausted face. Pulling the taller man down until their foreheads were touching, he tried to communicate with his eyes everything he lacked the strength to say aloud, much less mind-to-mind.

//I believe in you, Riskbreaker, you could never fail me... I... // Even now the words simply wouldn't come.

"I will always come for you, whelp, if you are ever in peril, I swear I will stop at nothing until I am at your side and you are safe again." The knight's deep voice was almost a whisper as the chocolate-colored eyes seemed to stare right through him. Sydney was breathless with a mere look. The absolute and unswerving loyalty and devotion that Ashley offered both gratified and terrified him.

"Ashley... I... " He gave up again and finished lamely, "I can take care of myself, you know..." The response didn't upset the soldier, however; it simply caused the man to flash a smile.

"I know you can... but I will come for you anyway, if you don't mind..." The grime and injuries faded, leaving him looking far more like his usual, unshakable self. Sydney dumbly nodded in agreement and couldn't resist sliding the still-free hand that had been cupping the knight's face back to tangle in the short thick hair. Ashley's smile widened a fraction, and time seemed to stop for the mage as the taller man relinquished the captured hand in favor of catching his chin instead. The other strong arm circled the blonde's thin waist. Sydney smiled in delight at the sudden intimacy and, risking everything, slowly tangled both hands in his would-be protector's hair to gently guide the man's face lower. The Riskbreaker showed no sign of hesitation as he followed the cultist's lead, admiring the sharp quicksilver beauty, the blonde's eyes already half-lidded as he leaned in closer.

// Oh, please let this happen... //

The taller man was so close that Sydney could practically taste him, their breath tickling each other's faces as the knight stooped the last inch necessary to seal the kiss. The mage closed his eyes in anticipation.

" /Sydney/! Have you got him stabilized yet? Because if not we have a serious problem "

Both men's head's snapped up with a start; the goddess's voice was loud, shocking them out of the entranced mood. Sydney blushed again and met Ashley's chagrined grin.

"Time's up. Now we /really/ should get going. Why can't you have your mental crisis's on a more agreeable schedule, Riskbreaker..." The mage smirked at the knight's long-suffering reaction.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time. Now.... will you /please/ get /out/ of my head?"

The cultist was gone in a shimmer of laughter and, shaking his head, Ashley prepared to follow, happy to leave the complexities of his subconscious for another time.

" A moment, Ashley..." The Riskbreaker turned in surprise to see the goddess thoughtfully watching him. " It is rare that I feel the need to say things to you that cannot be communicated with 'the troublesome one' around, but I feel that this may be one of those times. "

" My Lady? "

" Why did you say that... that you'd always protect him? Surely you realize that, as Rood Bearer, your existence is vastly more important than /his/..." Müllencamp smiled gently, " I commend your taste, but I feel that I should warn you that you may have to break your promise someday... In fact I guarantee it, and that is something I seldom do. There is only the question of when... "

" A question of 'when'? If so, why tell me this now? Are you saying that /today/ is one of those "when" 's? "

" Would you listen? "

" No. But you didn't hold me here to scold me on my logical inconsistencies... "

"Very astute, my detective. No 'twas not merely that...although the two are intimately connected. I wanted to ask you if you had found your Key yet... "

"My 'key'? "

" For unlocking the Dark to its fullest potential.../your/ fullest potential... "

" ... No, not yet, Sydney said it would be obvious to me should I ever find myself truly desiring it, that it will be something of meaning to me. "

" Aye, he explained it a'rightly, but I think that perhaps you might be a special case, the Key may be lost in memories that you no longer know as your own. This could cause you a serious handicap. "

" Indeed, so is this path blocked to me? Or has some solution presented itself? "

" I promised you my help, did I not? "

" So you did, and I received it already, back in the castle... "

" I did nothing but call that uptight man an 'ass' a few times and allow you time to smash his pretty bauble. I am not so stingy as /that/, child. No, that was not the aid I promised... I wish to give you something, Riskbreaker... " She produced a most unremarkable helmet. It was made of soft bronze and had numerous dents and scratches in it. " ...I will also give you a piece of advice, and an instruction..." He looked up from the headpiece curiously. " When it is time to go looking for the key, take the time to truly understand what you are doing. It may save your life... and your sanity. Do not worry that you are taking too long, I will make sure you will have time enough... and should you become lost, and you will, give this helmet to the first person you see, it will be the 'key' to your 'key'... "

" A key to a key? I suppose it would be cheating for you to simply give me the answer..."

" Maybe... maybe not... but it would be exceptionally dangerous... as your little episode just now has proven, you still have much to learn about handling the internal pressures that the Dark can produce. "

" Where do I begin? "

" You wish to start now? "

" Without it, can I keep my promise? "

" You have grown wise, Ashley... Your way begins... at the beginning. Go. I will inform Sydney of your choice. "

The Riskbreaker felt her presence fade, and looked once more at the footman's helmet, not comprehending its importance.

// Begin at the beginning, neglect nothing... and if you fail, she as much as tells you that the whelp will be the one to suffer... failure is not an option. // Squaring his shoulders he concentrated, and walked the paths of his own memories.

//~ What?! ~// Sydney crouched anxiously by the still-prone knight and almost called the intangible woman several very crude names. The angel was alive, this was no time to start cat-fights.

"You'll have to move him to shelter until he finishes. It should not take long, but even I cannot make it pass in an instant. "

//~ Lady, leaving the obvious questions of /how/ I move him... just where the Hell does one hide from an /angel/! ~// Sydney was /not/ panicking, he never panicked. Another surge of power came from the ruins; Cassiel was methodically carving himself an exit from the fused and crumbled structure. /Now/ Sydney started to panic.

" Just buy your Riskbreaker some time, Sydney. I can supplement your strength a little but there is no more I can do in this place... /hurry/... "

The mage wasted no time in beginning to cast, carefully transporting the prone body one hop at a time further and further from the castle. The strain of the magic did not affect the ongoing argument. //~ I /don't/ believe you! You /know/ he almost cracked not ten minutes ago, and now you so much as tell him, 'Walk to the center of your madness, Ashley, and then kick it and see what happens...' ~//

" This could be an excellent chance for healing for him, child, do not be so quick to judge. "

//~ /Heal/? ~// Sydney felt the world lurch and refocus as he shifted from one side of a massive forest to the other. //~ It will /break/ him! ~//

" You don't know that, your feelings for him blind you to the truth. "

Sydney caught his breath and picked a direction at random, hoping the confusing trail might help delay the powerful creature. //~ Which truth is this? ~// The analytical side of his brain paused in its calculation of its next jump to wonder at the goddess' sudden burst of normalcy. He had never had an argument with her that hadn't ended with /one/ of them walking away. This time she stayed, and even more surprising: she answered.

" Ashley is not like you, Sydney. How would you say it? 'He is all-or-nothing'...? He always has been. There is no easy way for him to do this, so whether it is done when he is fresh or tired matters not, all that is of importance is that it is /done/. And he /is/ succeeding, child... I can feel the Dark's response to him. " Müllencamp's voice became speculative, " It will be easier for /him/, than it was for you... opening the seals..."

//~ What? How do you arrive at that conclusion? He's no mage, he had no training but what I've forced on him... ~//

The cultist shifted once more and felt his control start to slip. They would be able to run no further; now came the waiting. He shot his comatose partner a frustrated look. //~ Some help /you've/ been... ~// The prophet felt a phantom touch on his weary shoulder, a phantom's phantom; the goddess replenished his spent energy with a caress.

" Mage training is not the only sort of training a man can have... Do not forget, he /is/ a Riskbreaker..."

//~ A damaged one. ~// Sydney interjected, still feeling bitter.

" He is also a natural-born berserker... Or at least has tendencies in that direction. You witnessed his technique in the City. He was able to fight through pain, delirium, and exhaustion. There is no question that he was well trained to channel the chaos of battle... to /use/ his rage. You, on the other hand, have always been rather wary of that element of your personality... "

//~ You say I was weak. ~//

" No. Merely /different/. You have been my priest and prophet... but he will be my Champion... 'Tis almost a pity that he is in truth fighting for /you/... "

//~ What? ~// The cultist had been grudgingly following the logic until she surprised him once again. He shot the shadowy form a baffled look. She paid him no attention, face directed upwards.

" He's here. " Sydney's eyes slowly rose to watch a point far above the trees. A light began to coalesce, and at length a figure appeared, wings easily catching the air and holding the altitude.

//~ And we're departing. ~// The mage made to stand, but a soft groan caught his attention. The Riskbreaker had opened his eyes.

// Walk my memories, what a joke, there's more 'nothing' than path... it only gets worse the further in the past I go...// It had started well enough, as he carefully reached back, straining to find his earliest memory. At first he grasped at air, but the white blankness around him solidified, and he was at the 'beginning' indeed, the oak tree and the meadow as eternal as ever. A child and a large dog were running through the tall grass toward him. The boy, no more than twelve, was already well-muscled, and showed promise of becoming more so as he wrestled the happily barking mutt to the ground. Ashley watched in wonder as the pair came closer, expecting nothing, recalling nothing. He didn't anticipate being seen.

"Hullo, Ashley." The boy gave him a bashful grin and greeted him with his own name. The dog cheerfully licked his fingers. "This is Kir, you probably don't remember him..." The Riskbreaker stared harder at the child and the dog, realizing what the boy implied but still feeling nothing.

"You're me." Child-Ashley smiled at the knight's wondering expression and, reaching into a deep pocket of his leather apron, produced a small loaf of bread.

"Yes. Come, sit. Master Hughes gave me the afternoon off from work, so I brought us some lunch... 'Tis not much, but mother made it fresh this morning." Bemused at the child's bountiful good will, Ashley allowed himself to be led into the shade under the tree. The apprentice carefully broke the bread into thirds and passed a piece to the curious man. The begging dog was given the other share and snapped it up in two bites before darting off to chase the small animals living in the grass. Ashley watched the dog and bit into the crusty bread, feeling strangely content. The flavor was wonderful; simple, fresh, it caused him to smile, and he /remembered/.

His mother had been no remarkable cook. She took care of her family well, though, and made bread every Saturday. Before Ashley was apprenticed, he used to love those days best of all, sitting patiently in the warm kitchen watching her practical hands braid and twist the sticky dough into elegant shapes. Then there was the heavenly smell that would come from the oven and waft through the house.

// Father would always come home and say, "This must be what heaven smells like..." Father... Miguel...? But what was Mother's name... //

He opened his eyes to see the boy beside him had changed, grown a few years older, more mature. The lopsided smile was still easily given. "You're beginning to remember... I'm glad."

"What was Mother's name?" The knight studied his younger-self carefully, noting the bare feet now possessed a pair of sturdy boots, and that they and the apron were liberally scratched and scorched by working in daily contact with the forge.

"Bette...and Hughes was our uncle. The town was ecstatic that he decided to settle /here/ after the war... our own 'Master Smith'... he was trained at the /castle/..."

"And you were trained by /him/...?" The youth's enthusiasm caused him to smile.

"He had no children of his own... and Father said that being a Master Smith is a far better living than breaking and training horses... so I was apprenticed. 'Tis interesting work. Come and see?" Young-Ashley stood and dusted of his apron, and offered a hand to the knight.

The forge was unremarkable on the outside, a carefully tended house and barn-like shed that was open to the light and breezes of the summer day. The majority of the pieces hanging on the walls were meant for farmers; simple tools, parts for wagon axles and horse tack, carefully crafted deep-bellied pots and slim skillets. Ashley appreciatively hefted a thin cooking knife and tested its edge.

"You learned well."

"I loved my work." Young-Ashley glanced down at the dented helm held carelessly in the knight's hands. "Where did you get that? That belonged to our uncle. Usually it's just left on the shelf... He never wore it after the war."

Ashley studied the old helmet again, impressed that its wearer had survived the conflict. "'Twas given to me by a friend. She said it would help me find a 'key' that I search for."

The smith shrugged. "I know something of the making of keys and locks, but 'tis not the sort of 'key' I reckon you're searching for... May I see the helmet?"

Wordlessly, the Riskbreaker proffered the helmet to the curious smith. Something felt wrong in the action, but he could think of no reason not to do it. As soon as the young man's hands closed on the aged metal, the memory began to swirl and change. When his disorientation faded, he found himself in a fetid cell; the only light and only exit were from a grate placed in the high ceiling.

//What the Hell? I don't remember anything like this... //

The smith still stood before him, holding the helmet. The apron was gone, as were the boots. The rest of the man's clothes seemed to be torn and stained from blood, but he seemed otherwise intact. The eyes that finally looked up to recognize him proved that the assumption was not entirely true. Ashley looked into the crazed dark depth, and without asking, /knew/ what had occurred. Young-Ashley spoke first, his voice rough and devoid of the emotions burning in his eyes.

"Tia... they /killed/ her..." The young man seemed on the verge of collapse, but did not drop. His bloodstained hands tightened on the soft metal, easily crushing it.

"What... no, I know what happened... but /why/..." The sick sense of loss swept over him, still excruciating after more than a decade. The smith's eyes almost glowed, the rage burned so brightly, but the face twisted into the semblance of a sick smile.

"They thought because I was a peasant... because I was always kind and gentle, they thought I was stupid... that I'd blindly believe them..." The smiled turned wolfish. "But I know a lie when I hear one... and it was easy to see the pattern. But I was a fool, in my anger I spoke what I knew and now I am here... to rot until they wish me to live again..." In the distance there was the regular bark and chime of weapons-practice; a training ground must have been nearby. Ashley looked back to the prisoner, who had settled on the old straw as far from the sunlight as was possible in the small cell.

"Who killed her? Who killed our wife and son?!" The stubbled and grimy face gave him another grim smile.

"Where to begin... " His eyes closed for a moment, and opened again, fixing the disconcerting stare on the knight. "Early in the summer, our town had a visitor... the castle had a Hunt, and one of the nobles' horses had lost a shoe nearby. Instead of walking the creature back to the castle farrier, they brought it me. It was a simple enough thing to do, but for some reason even after I completed the task they didn't /go/... They just looked around the shop and kept asking all these random questions about me, and /watching/ me...It was a little unnerving. I learned later from the village witch that they were mages... but I thought nothing of it. Who was I, to care about the eccentricities of the upper classes? I put it from my mind, there was work to do and a family to raise. Apparently they had no such occupations to distract them." The man curled tighter against the wall, not looking anywhere but the now malformed helmet. "About a week later, they came back... or rather their servants did... They brought some small bits of work, more of an excuse to visit than anything else... there was no reason they couldn't have had the tack fixed at the castle. The men, they kept talking about this 'amazing' school, some sort of training ground for gladiators... men who kill for the entertainment of others. They said that the finest of the fighters would be given the most comfortable jobs, wealth, power, prestige, they would be Guardians for the finest mages in the country. I don't know what they were expecting, if I was supposed to act more interested... I've never been much of a liar. They asked me if I would be interested. I said no. I said I had no craving for fame. I think that made them upset. They left soon after."

"They came back." Ashley's cynical mind was already reconstructing the barely remembered events into a cohesive picture.

"Yes. Each time it was someone new... they began to get more... insistent. They said I had more potential than they had ever seen... they offered a lot of money, enough to keep Tia in silk for the rest of her life... All I had to do was to leave her, leave the town, go with them and serve this one mage... they said she was very beautiful... as if that would tempt me."

"You refused?"

"I already /had/ a life! I /craved/ no other!" The outburst quickly reduced back to the softer murmur, "I have only one regret about any of it... I never told her what was happening. Tia, I didn't want to worry her... I never expected it would go on like that... but eventually it seemed as though I was right... they went away. Everything went back to normal for a few months and I forgot about it... it had all seemed so /strange/..." Young-Ashley took a deep breath and looked up.

"You know what happened next... there was so much blood... I'd never seen anyone die that way... Tia... Marco... I didn't know... They should never have been in any danger... We were /no one/... no one worth killing..." He swallowed a sob. "I... guess I just started screaming after that... it hurt so... much... The next thing I remember was one of them holding me down while the other pried Marco from my arms... And suddenly, I wasn't frightened anymore, or sad. I was... /angry/. It was so easy... I never considered how /easy/ it would be to kill a man. I didn't even have a weapon, I just ... killed them..." Young-Ashley stared in wonder at his strong, capable hands, as if seeing the blood on them for the first time.

"And then others caught you... and you recognized them..."

"And defied them..." The smith nodded in agreement.

"You know what they're going to do to you..." The smith looked up, uncaring for what his future held, and shook his head in negation.

"It doesn't matter anymore... I'm already dead. And I'd rather die than serve /them/." He tossed the mangled helm back to the Riskbreaker. The room was suddenly filled with light.

"You're late."

Ashley opened his eyes and looked around the empty arena. The sand under his feet was scorching from the midday sun.

"You ready?" His opponent's helmet covered his features, but the soft voice sent chills down his spine. The knight stooped for the sword at his feet, and prepared to block the other Ashley's attack. It was a curious experience to fight himself, a completely new sort of challenge. They sparred around the large ring, neither gaining a conclusive edge over the other, each anticipating the next move despite their differences. The Riskbreaker finally found his victory, though, using the helmet he had dropped earlier to trip the other fighter and then pin him to the ground with foot and sword point.

"Yield." Ashley allowed his past self no means of escape. The man lay still, assessing his options, but at length slapped his palm into the sand, admitting defeat.

"You've improved." The voice was dead, not simply hiding emotion, but having none to hide. The helmet, when it came off, revealed that the man had adopted something similar to Ashley's hairstyle, the old braids being let out so the locks blew back with every gust of wind. The fighter's face was still young, his eyes were still a warm brown, but they were almost entirely empty. "Come, we can watch the next match from the waiting area... 'Tis Ro's turn to fight." They picked up their swords-- Ashley gathered up the helmet--and went to stand in the shade.

"Ro?... Rosencrantz? He trained here?" The knight stared in disbelief as his old enemy bounded out into the ring, tossing the other Ashley a jaunty salute. "When did we come to Alton?"

The stern soldier turned to look at him curiously. "We have always been in Alton... but as soon as the boy is ready I'm going to accept a permanent post in the VKP Elites and bring him along. He is a good fighter when he can focus; all he needs is the experience."

"The Elites were an /assassination/ squad, and you know it! Why would you join them!" Ashley stared in disbelief at the colder man.

"We do what we must, when we must do it. They need men, we are qualified."

"They will make you a /murderer/!"

"Murderers are /criminals/... I am an officer of the /Law/..."

"You're /wrong/... What did they /do/ to us?!"

The fighter looked him over coldly, "I should be asking you the same... look at /you/... look what we've become... A useless whimpering creature lost in his own past..." Had the man been capable, he would have sneered.

"Wait, what happened to the mage who wanted us as her Guardian?"

The soldier's face reflected the confusion Ashley was sure he was showing. "Mage? I've only met one mage who wasn't associated with the VKP... that was over 3 years ago... I... I remember trying to kill her... odd, since I can't remember why I wanted to... She never came back." Across the field, Rosencrantz gave a triumphant shout. The match was over.

When Ashley looked back, he found himself back in the Field, but it also wasn't. It took a moment for the Riskbreaker to spot the differences, but once noted they were glaring.

// The stream's gone... and there are more trees... the hills are taller too... but it's close enough... far too close... //

Turning around once more, Ashley braced himself for what he knew was coming, but the deed had already been done. The bodies were strewn carelessly in the grass, and the cold soldier was in the midst of a full-blown breakdown. The Riskbreaker moved closer, glancing unwillingly at the woman's corpse as he passed. She had blonde hair, and a white dress... but she was not Tia. Her face was rounded, not heart-shaped, her skin tan, not fair. She was a stranger. Now curious, he moved to inspect the other two, keeping half an ear on Rosencrantz' confused shouts. Neither the father nor the son looked familiar; it had been pure bad luck that the family and setting had been so similar to his own. Even blocked as the memory was, the near-reenactment was more than enough to weaken the barriers in his mind.

The younger soldier was still talking. Ashley had never realized how close the two men must have once been. Rosencrantz was shaking his usually invincible commandant, voice hoarse with worry.

"Commandant? Commander Riot? Sir?! Sir Riot? Can you hear me?" The soldier leaped to his feet and shouted at a distant lookout. "/Hey/! Fetch the healer! The Commandant is /down/!" The loud shouts quickly brought response from over the hill, as the better part of a squad poured over the rise and toward the frantically waving Rosencrantz. Most of the battle-scarred men kept their distance, staring in awe and fear at their unstoppable captain lying still in the grass. A rangy bearded man, the only one carrying a pack, pushed through the crowd, using fists and insults to clear a path to kneel beside their fallen leader.

"What the hell happened, Lieutenant? You were only gone a minute." Careful hands turned the other Ashley over to inspect for injury. "There's not a mark on him..."

"He... we dispatched the witnesses... but he suddenly started talking madness, as if he was not himself... The next thing I knew he collapsed, I could not get him to respond..."

"It's as if he's not even there... but his mind... You're right... there's something wrong with his mind...an attack?"

"He doesn't know the half of it..." The familiar grim voice caused the Riskbreaker to turn in alarm. None of the others had been able to see him, so he had simply assumed no one could. The commandant, or rather a ghostly version of him, stood calmly watching the panicked scene unfold.

"No one did. Not even /me/... not until I came here... and the life they had so painstakingly crafted for me all came crumbling down." The scene faded and resolved into an infirmary, the familiar rooftops of Valendia's capitol were easy to identify from the window. The phantom continued to stare at himself, speaking more to the comatose form than to his audience. "The higher-ups, /they/ knew... but they were desperate. My skills, my /strength/, it was essential to their plans...they scoured the VKP for the first mage they could lay their hands on with ability enough to reseal the wards on my memories. The man was... incompetent..." Ashley and his ghostly twin watched as several orderlies came in and lifted the prone form, carrying it into another room where an obviously nervous young mage waited.

Ashley turned from the door as it shut them out and found himself in the white /nothingness/ once more. Another Ashley, his mirror image, stood facing him.

"The boy wasn't to be blamed. He was scared, unqualified, Lord Le Stait had bullied him into it... he made a mistake. In trying to seal of the past, he sealed off everything... When I awoke, I had to be told my name... They were /not/ amused..." Ashley's doppleganger gave him a familiar small smile. "Rosencrantz was reassigned to a new group, and eventually got himself expelled for insubordination. The rest of the squad was broken up and spread among the troops. No one was to know what happened to me, their precious, unbeatable, 'perfect' soldier... As for the rest... the rest you know... we were retrained, reeducated, and placed back in the field, a Riskbreaker, their soulless puppet."

Ashley stared at himself in amazement, "So you are /me/?" His mind was still swimming from everything he had seen.

// How long have I been here? It seems like days... years...//

The Riskbreaker's soft snort distracted him. "No, Ashley, I'm only a /part/ of you... I am by no means your end and beginning, as you've learned... Do you understand?" The man's eyes were serious and worried.

"I'm... not sure, but I begin to... At least I know... not everything... but /enough/... I'm not lost anymore. The other memories, the ones I could not remember for myself, will they come back?"

"I know no more than you do... I am only an aspect of you given flesh. I can't answer what you don't know, I can only reveal what you've hidden from yourself. Some of what they did to us, cannot be undone. How much? That is uncertain. But you knew all of this already."

"Yes. You say you can reveal to me that which I've /hidden/... tell me, do you know what my 'key' is? If I cannot find it, I will likely have gone through this enlightenment only to find my ending..." Ashley looked around the empty space worriedly, no more certain where to look than before. He had a feeling he was running out of time.

"You didn't know?" The younger voice still held a measure of sorrow and defeat, but there was also a hint of laughter. Ashley turned back to his companion, only to see he had shifted again, the young smith having replaced the Riskbreaker.

"Know /what/?"

This time the man did laugh, but it had little mirth and much regret. "You've been holding it all this time, except when I needed it to unlock those memories that were still sealed... but then I returned it to you..." Ashley followed the craftsman's gaze down to the lump of twisted metal on his hands.

// /This/?! //

"This is my /key/?" The knight stared in disbelief, but already he realized that it made a sick sort of sense.

"A helmet," Young-Ashley's voice took on the same cadence that he remembered his uncle often using. "A fundamental piece of protective armor, worn on the head by all classes of fighting men save the sacrificial lambs, the zealots, and those mages without the sense that God gives to every normal babe... Meant for battle, for the purpose of protection... Uncle liked making helmets, he thought that they were a good thing." The familiar workshop wavered behind the smith, and became solid. Uncertain of what would happen, Ashley followed himself in to the tidy forge.

"Uncle Hughes wore that helmet throughout the war and it saved his life. When he came home, he put it up on the shelf... /that/ one." The knight followed the finger to gaze at a conspicuously empty space on a cluttered beam. "He swore to never fix it, that he wanted no more fighting. He felt that to fight for an unworthy cause, for power, for land, for vengeance, was the worst way for a man to destroy himself." Dark eyes stared questioningly at each other, seeking and finding answers. "Give me the helmet, Ashley. We do what we must, and it is an admirable thing to want to protect those you care for."

The battered metal was thrust into the fire and removed. The gentle smith worked methodically to reshape and smooth the surface into another helm, larger, and somehow more foreboding. The metal was submerged with a loud hiss of steam and sank to the bottom of the bucket.

"Take it, it's yours."

Ashley stared at his younger self in worry, but there was no way to wish away the man's pain. The smith would remain forever as he had been before he was wiped away, grief-stricken, bitter but still unbroken.

"I'm sorry..." The words seemed insufficient to express the guilt and loss they shared. Young-Ashley smiled, a true smile and shook his head, refusing the apology.

"Take care of him, and I will be content..." His smile grew. "He's nothing like Tia, is he... Mother would have a fit. Funny, after all this time, you've found yourself a mage... I wonder what it means."

"I have no idea." Ashley returned the lopsided grin and stooped to pull the now-cool helm from the water. It was no longer malleable bronze, but blackened iron, meant to cover the full head down to the neck, leaving only wide slits for eyes. The knight wondered at the way the Dark reacted to it, an eager giddy feeling buzzing in the corner of his mind. "Thank you."

"They're waiting for you."

// Sydney ...? I'm coming //

//~ Ashley! ~//

Sydney was torn between watching the angel descend and assisting the still-disoriented knight to get his bearings. Things were drawing to a head in a way the mage was almost certain he wouldn't like.

" He's fine. But will need a moment longer."

//~ We don't have a moment, he's /here/! ~//

" ... "

The ghost stared worriedly at the Riskbreaker, the man was struggling to rise but looked completely unfit to either run or fight. Cassiel was on the ground.

//~ I'm really not cut out for this... ~// Fully expecting to be obliterated in an instant, Sydney made the bravest, stupidest, decision of his life. The cultist placed himself directly in front of the approaching angel, blocking his path to Ashley. White wings spread slightly in surprise as the approaching man assessed the new development.

"Why, hello little ghost, whatever are you doing here?" The urbane voice held a mix of contempt and amusement.

//~ Honestly? Wishing I were anywhere else... ~//

Now that the decision was made, the mage felt strangely confident. // I'm either in extreme denial of my own imminent destruction, or I really do believe that big oaf is about to get a grip on himself and pull that trick with the shining armor and the white horse... except that one only works for /damsels/ in distress... Hell... //

The angel smiled in amusement. "You're a truthful little ghost... although the Dark /does/ run strong in you... Sydney." The prophet refused to give his opponent the pleasure of seeing him flinch. He shifted stance slightly, and appearance, metal hands clenching into fists. Cassiel merely moved another step closer. "You seek to defend your 'fledgling'? How touching... Surely you know the gesture is futile. I will destroy you, and take from him what is mine by right... are you frightened, little ghost? Tell me, for I find I cannot read you as I can others of your kind..."

//~ I'm terrified... but as for the rest, destroying /me/ may not be as easy as you anticipate. Destroying him? I doubt you have the ability... ~// Sydney allowed a signature smirk as he felt the being's curiosity focus more on him and less on the slowly rising knight.

// Ashley? //

// Yes... I think... //

The man's voice was almost lost amidst the roar of the Dark swirling around him. The mage risked a closer look, surprised that the angel was not reacting more to the man's surging aura. The angle did not react because on the outside there was nothing to see. The Riskbreaker was clamped down so hard that even his usual umbra was weak to the ghost's mage-sight. It was only from within the man's layered shields that the true nature of his new connection with the Dark could be observed.

// No wonder he's out of it... containing that much pressure... 'twould be like harnessing a maelstrom... what is he /doing/...? //

"As interesting as it would be to chat with you, Sydney, I'm afraid I have little time. I need Mr. Riot's soul before my brother arrives... doubtless he will be curious about the happenings of last night, and I have no intention of sharing my prize."

//~ Pity, we had no intention of giving it to either of you... but as you say, we are wasting time... As you have already guessed my intention... Shall we begin? ~//

"Does Müllencamp throw away all her pawns so readily? How sad for you..."

//~ Sad? Not hardly. Müllencamp at least gives me the ability to choose my fate, and to keep my soul. Your servants were not so lucky, it seemed... Besides, I'd hardly call myself a /pawn/, that's simply /insulting/. I'm much more of a 'bishop' really. Pawns are sacrificed so callously in search of an advantage, my moves are never so sloppy. ~//

"You /are/ a sharp one... Lucius was right about you. Pity you're such a fanatic, I could use a man like you... your intellect is wasted on /her/..."

//~ I rather consider her to be a challenge for my creativity... ~//

"She's /mad/, she needs to be contained..."

//~ Funny, she says much the same thing about you... ~// Sydney relentlessly baited the still-smiling angel, wondering how much longer they would verbally fence. He could no longer sense Ashley at all. The knight was still there, crouching low on the ground, but his aura was completely silent, opaque. There was no way to be certain the man was even aware of what was going on.

// Lady? //

" He is ready. Get Cassiel to come closer... "

// Understood // The mage felt his mood take a slight upswing. They would likely die, but the expression on the angel's face would almost be worth it. Wondering if it would work, he resorted to pure flattery of the creature's ego, luring it forward through the most subtle of manipulations. Sydney's smile was almost coy, a sharp wicked thing.

//~ Tell me, O Divine Cassiel... With what would you tempt me to abandon my post? I /am/ curious... ~// The angel raised an eloquent brow and his smile grew calculating.

"Whatever would please you, dear Sydney... Once I have the Dark, nothing would be beyond my ability..."

//~ Power? ~// He took a step back.

" Of course." The angel followed.

//~ Wealth beyond my imagining? ~// It was almost too easy.

"There will be nothing you could desire that you could not possess."

They were close enough now that the mage could hear his partner's labored breathing, but still the man did not move.

// Ashley? //

// Closer. //

The man's thought was focused to a razor's edge, stripped of everything unnecessary.

//~ '/Nothing/ I could not possess?' Are you certain? ~// He could hear Müllencamp's delighted laughter as she saw through his intention.

"Whatever your heart desires... just give me the /soul/!" The angel's eyes were bright with victory as he sensed what had to be capitulation on behalf of the ghost.

// Now. Duck.//

Sydney shed all pretense of interest in the angel's offer, sultry smile suddenly vicious. //~ I want a world without /you/ in it! ~// Behind him he could feel the Riskbreaker surge to life and unleash a massive blast. Following the explicit instruction, he threw himself out of the way. The mage made certain to observe Cassiel's dumbfounded features as the shards of conjured crystal struck him full on. It was a pity that they didn't do more damage.

The angel's eyes were piercing as he glared at the ghost. "Deceiver!"

//~ I only said I'd be /tempted/. I didn't say I'd /do/ anything... ~// The cultist barely dodged the icy blast, the angel casting and blocking the knight's sword at the same time.

"So you're well again! How... pointless, do you honestly think that puny sword can hurt me? You will have to do far better. Pity you're no mage... how did a nobody like /you/ get to be Rood Bearer?"

"You talk a lot." The Riskbreaker's attacks were careful, darting sweeps, challenging the angel's defenses while keeping out of range of the opposing sword's sharp edge. Ashley was well prepared for his opponent, but Cassiel's overconfidence almost betrayed him in the battle's first exchanges. Irritated by the constant small retreats, the angel made a critical over-extension and was caught off-guard by the knight's unnaturally fast reversal of momentum. Their bodies crashed together with jarring force, the fighter's elbow catching Cassiel in the face and causing him to see stars. The angel retained his grip on the sword but found it immobilized, his wrist caught in a vice-like grip, bones grinding unpleasantly. Even as he brought his other hand up to unleash a powerful retaliation, he knew he had made a dangerous error in thinking the man was finished. In a disturbing display of strength, the knight had reversed his grip, driving the thin blade /behind/ him, and through the angel's abdomen. Using the excess momentum, Ashley spun out of the way of the first spell, giving the wrist still tightly in his grip a vicious twist and hearing a satisfying wet snap. The second fireball did not miss and caught the Riskbreaker square in the chest. He relaxed into the blow, allowing the impact to carry him out of range of the angel's wounded sword arm, taking no chances. He hit the ground with a graceful roll and, assessing his chances, surged forward once more, determined to press his advantage.

Cassiel's wrist /hurt/. He gingerly transferred the sword from his rapidly swelling hand and sent a surge of healing energy out to the damaged area. The bruises and swelling faded at a rapid rate, but the shattered bone and tendon would be another matter. A second surge tried to close the wound in his side but was far less successful, the oozing wound strangely resistant to repair.

// Of course his blade would be tainted with the Dark... no matter, it will knit soon enough, and if he thinks it will affect me... //

Still, the wound had been dealt, and his pride was damaged worst of all. First blood had been drawn, and it was /his/. The angel's instincts screamed and he realized Müllencamp's champion was almost upon him once more. The fireball, even at point-blank range, had apparently done little to slow the man down. His hand was damaged, but was still more than good enough to cast with. Flicking a finger, he caught the dark man mid-lunge, slamming him back several yards. Cassiel was no longer in any mood to play games.

There was no graceful impact this time for the knight. Ashley slammed into the ground /hard/, taking the brunt of it on his shoulder and shield-arm as he desperately sought to protect his head. He was almost certain something was broken.

// Should've thought to bring a helmet... a /real/ one... Uncle Hughes would be disappointed... // The nonsensical thought staying with him as he checked his momentum and /dodged/ the next two attacks by instinct alone. The angel was clearly taking him seriously. Not yet ready to admit he was out of his depth, he gauged the next two attacks carefully, and in diving out of the way of the lancing beams launched an attack of his own, calling forth sharp spines of rock from the ground under Cassiel's feet. The unexpected attack found its mark, one of the thin stone lances effectively piercing the graceful sweep of the angel's left wing. The blonde snarled in surprise and pain and unleashed another series of blazing beams. Ashley caught the first and deflected it on the edge of his shield, but the force made him loose vital balance and he barely dodged the second, only to have the third pierce the shoulder still numbed and aching from the recent fall. The Riskbreaker could not suppress his sharp cry of pain. The Dark rushing through him quickly staunched the blood, but his arm felt as though it were on fire, the shield hanging heavily from muscles that refused to bear the load. He grimly watched his opponent gingerly pull the spike free of the meaty portion of the wing, bloody feathers dropping to the ground. The angel's green eyes promised suffering as he tossed the stony spear aside. One wing obviously hung lower than the other as the wound slowly closed, as resistant as the other still staining his robes. Ashley got the distinct impression that the battle had only just begun.

The knight was soon spending more time simply dodging the powerful attacks and less time launching counters of his own. Sydney watched the shift of the battle, feeling hopelessly overwhelmed. The angel's attacks were like nothing he'd ever seen, and were only growing /more/ powerful. The Riskbreaker, who had not stopped since the battle began, was finally beginning to tire, his body pushed beyond even /his/ enhanced endurance. Still the fight continued. Torn between wanting to assist, and not wanting to break his partner's vital concentration, the mage awaited his opportunity. It came sooner then he could have desired. Cassiel's initially random attacks had taken on a definite pattern, carefully driving the knight back into the trees. At first Sydney could make no sense of the tactic, as it seemed to allow Ashley additional cover with which to mount an offense. However, the mage was wary, seeing the angel smile wider with every step the Riskbreaker took into the woods.

//~ Ashley, get /out/ of there!! ~// His shield spell enveloped the man at the same moment the knight recognized his danger, turning back on his trail to race for the clearing. All around him the trees /exploded/, sending foot-long slivers of wood arcing through the air like a rain of daggers. Sydney's spell caught many of the deadly fragments, but Ashley's harsh curse implied at least one of the shards had hit. Cassiel was immediately on the move, standing over the knight with sword ready to deal a killing blow.

// Like Hell... // The prophet was closing the distance before he was consciously aware he had made the decision, raw energy crackling between his metallic claws. He caught the angel with the knight's own trick, driving the thin spears of rock up from the ground; not from under the man, as the Riskbreaker had done, but at an angle, hoping to skewer a leg. Unbelievably, Cassiel /dodged/. The attack, although a failure, had accomplished its other intent; in causing the angel to move, the still-swearing knight was out of immediate peril. As Sydney felt himself the recipient of the angel's burning stare, he was more than aware of what an easy target he had become.

The angel stared at his latest distraction. The stubborn ghost's attack had been avoidable but irritating in the extreme. Already the knight was staggering to his feet, recovered enough to be dangerous once more; the opportunity to destroy him was wasted.

"So eager to defend him? But who is going to defend /you/?" There was no way for the ghost to counter Cassiel's speed. The angel went from the far side of the clearing, to standing behind the mage, with a murmured word. Sydney felt a moment of stillness, then searing agony, the angel's sharp sword cutting through his spectral form and causing /real/, excruciating damage. The blonde blinked in amazement at the blade protruding from his semi-transparent chest, his more logical side idly wondering in what manner a /ghost/ would bleed.

// ...Ashley...? // Fighting to not lose consciousness and abandon the Riskbreaker, Sydney slid forward, off the blade, and into a pain-wracked heap. To his hazy vision, the dark form racing toward him almost seemed to have caught fire.

The Riskbreaker could do nothing but curse as a shard of wood the length of his forearm pierced his chest and collapsed a lung. He grimly worked it free, one painful inch at a time, relying on the Dark to close and sterilize the wound. Ashley felt the angel closing in for the kill and braced for the pain that his defense would cause. Ripping open a lung was still preferable to losing his head.

// 'Here lays Ashley Riot, killed by neither man nor god, but /tree/.' Here's to you, Tam, wherever you are... // He shoved the idiotic thought to the side and prepared to duck the stroke he could feel was about to fall. The blow never came. Instead the angel was obliged to leap aside, his concentration drawn elsewhere.

// But there's no one else here except... /no/! //

In a smooth pull he ripped the remaining wood from his chest, dropping the shield and clamping a hand over the gaping wound to stanch the blood. The pain was intense, but his fear made it fade to the background as he spun and staggered to his feet. He began to run even as the blade slid home, the Dark screaming in outrage and sympathy at Sydney's injury.

// ... Ashley...? //

The weak thought that brushed his mind reflected the mage's shock and agony. The blonde was down, but he remained, stubbornly refusing to flee. Ashley snarled in frustration, and almost without conscious thought over-ruled the ghost's decision, forcibly sending him home. Gray eyes stared at him in disbelief as the face and body faded from view.

// Ashley, you /bastard/... You /can't/ do this alone...//

// And you'll be of no help to me if you're destroyed... hurry and patch yourself up... I think I may need you later... //

// To save your ass? //

// To remind me of who I am... //

// Ashley?! //

The knight resolutely closed the link, but left the path between them unblocked. The mage wouldn't be able to leave the Shadow-Lands until he was intact. Cassiel fell back slowly, carefully watching the enraged knight's aura.

"Don't do it, Ashley... it will destroy you... leave you a hollow shell." The angel had been to Léa Monde, and recognized the forming power signature. If history was about to repeat, the battle might change course once more. Despite the fact that his wounds had already closed and he was only beginning to truly tire, Cassiel was not eager to pick a fight with the Dark itself.

"As long as I get to kill you, I really don't /care/."

// Müllencamp? // He felt her acknowledgement, and eager encouragement. // Take care of Sydney. //

Ashley could almost smell the ozone as the air around him shivered with the heat of his anger. His wounds, his exhaustion, his worries, all unessential things were subsumed beneath his rage. With the Dark and Müllencamp's triumphant voice egging him on, he held out his hand and /reached/, idea taking on solid physical form as the full-helm appeared in his grasp. The angel's attempt to distract him was ignored, the beam blocked by a growing wall of black fire. Eyes blank, concentration turned inward, the Riskbreaker deliberately raised the black helm, and put it on. Ashley's world went black.

Cassiel had seen cities burn and volcanoes erupt, but never had been standing at the center of either. Swallowing his pride, he spread his wings and put valuable distance between himself and the column of black fire that had exploded to life and climbed to a height of several stories before reducing to a somewhat lower but constant height. The sound of the seals breaking was almost deafening both on physical and mental levels.

// I defy even my moron brothers, to sleep through /this/... // The angel almost cursed as he caught a small part of his mind wishing that Raphael would make haste and /arrive/. He /didn't/ need help. Cassiel would claim his victory and his prize with no outside intervention. He circled closer as the fires began to subside, curious in spite of himself at the rare phenomenon.

// A true Dark Lord... the first I've seen this century at least... although there /were/ some unconfirmed reports of /something/ in Spain not so many years ago... not to mention Léa Monde... maybe 'sweet Sydney' had more impetus then I gave him credit for. //

A wind arose from nowhere, pushing the smoke from the charred trees away and giving the angel an unobstructed view. The transformation was at once remarkable and disappointing. In the center of he burned area was a massive dark figure, the morning light seemingly swallowed as it came in contact with the black armor. Had Cassiel been grounded, the paladin would have dwarfed him, the armored form easily exceeding nine feet. The shield and breastplate bore Müllencamp's sigil. They and the creature's eyes were the only points of color in the burned region.

// How unoriginal... // But the angel did not immediately move to attack, preferring to observe its actions and replenish his strength. It wouldn't do to make a mistake this close to his victory.

Pale flames seemed to flicker and burn in the place of eyes, as the titan slowly rose and unerringly locked on to the hovering man's location. The armor's movements, strangely silent, gave the knight an almost phantom-like appearance, more like a nightmare than reality. Still the paladin did not attack.

// I see, you mastered the transformation... but can you control it? I wonder... if I wait long enough, will you simply close on a closer target? Or do you still remember our battle enough to find me... //

Feeling much better for the delay, Cassiel continued to merely watch the static knight. // Poor little human... it was too much, wasn't it... You're /lost/... //

Ashley was on /fire/. He had not struggled against the Dark as it overwhelmed him; to the contrary, he embraced it. Its anger joined with his and he /exulted/ as the power sang in his blood. The transformation overtook him with a feeling of detachment and he found his mind threatening to split apart. Half of him, the part that fought and bled and killed, the part goading the Dark onwards, was trying to pull him one way, down the path to pure madness, the absolute white-hot killing fury that only berserkers dared to tap. The other half, everything in him that was a thinking rational being, was protesting loudly, refusing to unleash the forces in a manner so completely unfettered. The Riskbreaker reached into the very core of the mind-shattering divergence and somehow established a foothold. He was fury, but he had /purpose/.

// Cassiel. // His will and the Dark's united in a single destructive desire, and Ashley smiled at its sudden cooperation. Thinking beyond the intense emotion was difficult, but not impossible, and the world narrowed into the Dark's more simplistic desires. The paladin craved destruction, and its target was within sight.

// CASSIEL. //

When the titan's posture shifted the angel was more than ready, his shields rising in time to meet the initial staggering blast. Shaken but unharmed, Cassiel drew his sword once more and issued a challenge of his own. The angel pressed his aerial advantage and maneuverability, but soon found that neither gave him the edge he craved. He had scored several hits, leaving deep scratches in the plate armor, but they seemed to have no real effect on the paladin, and even seemed to be closing as though they were flesh wounds. The giant's curious Rood-shaped sword was surprisingly quick, and incorrectly judging its speed, Cassiel found himself hammered by the flat of the blade and swatted to earth like an insect. The impact drew blood, but he was rapidly airborne and once more dodging the bolts of raw energy that were meant to incapacitate him. The battle took all of his focus and he found himself enjoying the difficulty, it had been a while since his last worthwhile opponent. Seeking to test the knight's adaptability and control, Cassiel slowly lured it out of the secluded, and now decimated, forest and into a nearby valley. Fixing his eyes on a prosperous town in the distance, the angel smiled and baited the paladin with a hail of fire-arrows. The dark armor was more than willing to follow, lashing out with its own magic at the irritating creature who continually hovered out of range of its sword. It paid the passing farms no interest, but neither did it avoid them, as the Riskbreaker would have done. The paladin's focus was singular.

// DESTROY. //

Ashley's more human intelligence was almost completely submerged by the Dark, his grip on reality becoming weaker as the churning maelstrom surrounded him with chaotic visions, present and future a confusing tangle. Cassiel impaled by the sword's point, broken, screaming, dying. The wild energies screamed in delight, more than willing to fulfill their own prophecies. The battle raged on and the small remaining amount of /Ashley/ realized that they were being /led/ to something, or somewhere.

// What is he /doing/...? // Attempting to control the tidal forces and make them heed his logic was akin to steering an out of control horse with the reins missing. The last vestiges of his reasoning consciousness did what they could, and clung to the raging power with desperate strength; asking the Dark to /wait/, to assess the situation and attack in a strategic manner, was simply impossible. The kill was all that mattered now.

//CASSIEL. //

Ashley knew with sick certainty that things were only going to get worse the longer the battle went on. Goading the Dark in the only form of control it would allow, the knight sought to give the fight a push.

//... /Hurry/... /Ground/ him! /Finish/ him... // He looked into the swirling blackness around him, feeling it internalize his wishes and adjust its attack appropriately.

Cassiel had seriously hoped that the small city would offer some distraction to the chaotic presence following him. The Dark thrived on all kinds of destruction, large and small, and he had anticipated it becoming confused as the scurrying, screaming population fled the approaching danger.

//Like ants from a kicked-over hill... how pointless... They can't even provide me the /simplest/ of strategic distractions... /humans/... // His contemptuous reverie ended quickly as he noticed the paladin putting on an additional burst of speed, its silent movements even more eerie as it attempted to swat him down again. It landed from the tremendous leap on top of the stone wall surrounding the depopulating city, crushing a segment of it to rubble. They had arrived.

// DESTROY. //

Ashley could feel the currents eddy for a moment before pulling taut again. The Dark was becoming distracted. Around the paladin, people were screaming and dying, their terror fanning the flames of the wild energies he was caught in. // No. No others... Cassiel... Kill /Cassiel/... // The surging power became almost sullen at his urgings, and the knight was suddenly afraid that it would no longer heed him at all. A winged shadow flitted over the armor's head, successfully rekindling the Dark's interest, and Ashley sighed in relief as the forces re-aligned back on his desired goal.

The city was being rapidly reduced to rubble. Cassiel had mounted several successful attacks against the wraith-like armor, using its unreasoning desire to reach him to his advantage. Expending the energy to collapse a massive guildhall was worth it only to rid the knight of his shield. It was left, abandoned and buried in the rubble as the paladin broke free of the remains of the building. Laughing at his luck, the angel pulled the trick again, this time almost shattering the now-exposed arm with a well-placed tumbled column. The knight was definitely hurting, but nothing seemed to delay it for long. Occasionally the creature would score a lucky hit. Cassiel, distracted by a blast of fire, was now sporting a long deep gash from hip to toe on his right leg. The five-pointed sword was still a real and demonstrated danger. Buying some time to heal, he alighted on the highest point in the city, the church's sharply sloped roof, and observed the paladin's approach. The damaged arm was already repairing itself, torn and dented metal smoothly sealing as it watched him, simple-mindedly trying to find a point of access to the tiled peak. Glancing up at the sun, the angel was startled to see how late it had become. The fight, begun at dawn, had already continued for half a day. The armor, while slightly worse for the wear, scratched and shield-less, showed no serious sign of fatigue or distraction. Even as he watched, it threw itself at the wall, and in simple defiance of natural laws began climbing the smooth vertical like some kind of lizard. Cassiel was seriously starting to consider the titan a threat.

// Müllencamp's chosen has /stamina/, I'll grant him /that/... or he has already gone mad and I am simply the unfortunate recipient of a fanatic's obsession... //

The angel inspected the gash on his leg and saw that it had finally closed. The wound was still painful, a dark angry line in his pale skin, and with a growl of anger Cassiel repaired his pants and prepared to go aloft once more. The knight was about to reach the roof.

"Cassiel! What in the nine levels of Hell do you think you're /doing/! You've left a trail of destruction from here to Prussia!" The blonde angel almost cringed from the sudden angry shout in his ear. Raphael had finally arrived, full of righteous anger.

"Have I?! I wouldn't know! I've been /a little/ too busy to notice!" The battered angel spared his older brother an irate look before returning his attention to the other new arrival. The armor had succeeded in getting a foothold on the roof's edge, but was still in a precarious position. Ignoring Raphael's startled gasp, the angel unleashed a bolt of pure force, catching the titan unaware and ejecting him from the roof. It made no cry as it fell the three stories to the cobblestone courtyard, but the sound of the impact was impressive, as was the dent in the earth. Cassiel peered over the edge and gave a sigh of relief as he watching it slowly stirring, obviously stunned.

"That ought to slow it down for a few minutes..."

"Cassiel... what the Hell /is/ that thing...? "

The blonde turned to his sibling with a vicious smile, "It /was/ going to be my key to destroying /you/... but so far this Rood Bearer shows an irksome disinclination to /die/."

Raphael peered over the edge in casual curiosity, "Müllencamp? She still holds a grudge against you for what happened...? Impressive."

"Don't be an /ass/. I doubt she has any actual control over the thing... it seems to be channeling the Dark directly."

His older brother refused to take offense, knowing precisely how much it would irritate him. "Then do tell me, /brother/, why ever is it after /you/... it seems most insistent..."

Cassiel felt his blood begin to boil and idly wondered if he could convince the paladin to attack a /different/ angel. There was only so much of Raphael's arrogant superiority that he could deal with on a /good/ day, and this wasn't one of them.

// Pity that we look nothing alike... and I doubt an illusion will fool it... I'm not entirely positive that it can /see/ like a human does... //

"Initially? He destroyed something very valuable of mine, and I sought to punish him. But I think now it follows me out of some misguided need to avenge a slight. If it can still think that much... I doubt if it even remembers why it's fighting."

Raphael gave his brother a long look, knowing the story went far deeper. Below them, the knight began to scale the wall once more.

"I stopped by the castle where this apparently started... /yours/, I presume... I found some /very/ interesting debris..."

"Oh /did/ you?" Sarcasm was pointless with the red-haired angel. Cassiel watched grimly as the armor climbed, waiting for it to reach a particularly smooth segment before using his power to flick it loose and watch it fall back to the ground.

"... Most persistent..." Raphael's murmur was dubiously impressed before he glared at the blonde again. "I had /wondered/ what you were up to over there... you never before struck me as the bucolic type, so there had to be a /reason/ for a twenty-year country retreat... /Really/, Cassiel, calling yourself the 'Metatron'? Posing as a divinity so that you could start your own private holy war? How many... how many /souls/ did you /steal/? No wonder you got Her attention... dabbling in blood magic on that scale... I'm only impressed that you were able to conceal yourself for so long!"

"And I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for one madman of a mortal..." The angel smirked despite the bruises.

"I should stand back and let this thing finish you..." Raphael's tone was laden with disgust as he peered down again, and stared in alarm. The paladin was gone. Cassiel followed his wide-eyed gaze and swore viciously, taking flight and hovering over the roof's edge.

"Fuck! Where did it go /now/..." He gave his brother an evil stare, "If you don't want to help, either shut up, or /leave/, but stop /distracting/ me... I'll finish this thing, /eventually/... But I'll make sure to run it through a few more of your precious /cities/ first, since you don't seem to /mind/..."

"You bastard."

"Such a brotherly sentiment..." Cassiel's smirk was cut short as a large fist surged through the roof's edge and caught his foot. Before he could counter, or even cry out, he felt himself dragged through the broken wood and tiles with bone-shattering force. The fireball he released directly into the glowing eyes exploded in the confined, dusty space and went on to lift the roof off the entire area, flooding it with sunlight and chips of ceramic. The paladin crouched like a giant black spider in the center of the now exposed attic. Cassiel stood, but found he could not straighten one of his wings. The leading edge had become hopelessly shredded in his journey through the shattered roof. Even if he could spread the wing without screaming, there were too many pinions missing to catch the wind. The titan moved to pounce, and the angel did the only thing he could. He ran. The teleportation spell, assembled in haste, only got him as far as the street, but it was enough. Ignoring his still staring sibling, Cassiel staggered to his feet and darted into the city, needing time to stanch the new and bleeding cuts.

Raphael had managed to block the shrapnel as the roof under him dissolved, but remained frozen as the black armor had leaped free of the wreckage, coming to rest almost beside him. The pale eyes had fixed on him for a moment, /recognizing/ him. The redhead refused to flinch under the maddened gaze, clearly reading the paladin's nature and intent. It would neither desist nor slow until either it succeeded or was destroyed. The moment of challenge passed quickly and, like a hound catching the scent, its focus returned to the fleeing angel and it /jumped/ off the remains of the roof, leaving yet another set of broken paving stones at the base of the wall.

//This is insane... the two of them could be fighting for /days/... how many more towns must be flattened before there is a victor...? It's galling, but I think I /must/ help... Better the terror that is known, hmm, Cassiel? You're going to /owe/ me... //

The angel calmly descended to the ground, feeling the two combatants circling through the city blocks to head back towards the church. He was distracted, however, by the sudden arrival of a /different/ Dark-tainted presence, and turned to stare curiously at the appearance of a slim and rather haggard-looking ghost. The phantom blinked owlishly at him for a moment, clearly deciding whether or not to flee, and then shrugged its shoulders in surrender and came nearer.

//~ Excuse me, have you seen a /very/ violent knight chasing an exceptionally irritating blonde angel around lately? 'Tis a matter of some importance that I find him... the /knight/ that is... ~//

// Well, if rumor has it, this one should be far more reasonable than his brother... Unless Ashley has already made enemies of them both... In the state he's in, anything's possible. //

Müllencamp had awoken him from his healing trance with a worried shake. A startlingly long time had passed and she was beginning to show concern for the well-being of her champion. The goddess had not honestly expected the fight to last so long, anticipating the angel's getting frustrated and simply /leaving/, or Ashley's energy failing and forcing him to relinquish the spell. However, the two men battled on, each unwilling to admit the other superior. The match was even, and Ashley at least was beginning to detach from reality to a point that was becoming frankly dangerous. She sent Sydney to somehow end the match before the knight went completely out of reach.

The mage therefore found himself standing, barely half-healed and alone, facing his best chance for a peaceful end to the raging battle. Pleading for mercy from the brother of the very angel that was now dueling in the streets with his partner, a man who by all accounts /loathed/ his sibling; Sydney was not unappreciative of the irony of the situation.

Still, the man looked curious.

"Do you mean that /thing/ chasing Cassiel? Why ever do you want /that/, little ghost? Get in its way and it'll likely devour you whole."

Sydney gave an eloquent shrug. //~ That /thing/ used to be a friend of mine, one whom I'm inclined to be worried about... If he stays like this much longer, the condition may become permanent... ~//

The angel nodded thoughtfully, "Indeed... In truth, I planned to resolve the matter by simply destroying him..."

//~ No! You can't! ~// The cultist felt immediately stupid as the hazel eyes looked askance of him.

"He is destroying the /city/, little ghost. Friend or not, he must be stopped before the destruction spreads..."

//~ I can stop him! If you can keep Cassiel from doing anything provoking, I promise you the fight can end without any more idiocy... please, you angels have killed /enough/ people today, spare me this one... ~//

"I have killed no one yet, child, mind your tongue. Still... it /is/ irritating to get dragged into Cassiel's affairs in such a manner. My /dear/ brother's obsession with power seems to continually act as a plague to the world around him... Killing this man seems too much like 'assisting' him in his ambition." Sydney remained as politely attentive as possible, the angel's words inspiring a small bloom of hope.

//~ Leaving Ashley alive certainly would count as being counter to Cassiel's wishes... he wants to possess the Rood... ~//

"Yes, I had figured out that much." The sounds of fighting had grown steadily nearer. "They seem a very close match as far as skill is concerned... a frightening power for a human to possess; still, shall we call 'truce'? I wish to see if you can truly tame this chaos... show me Müllencamp's power." Raphael gave the cultist a little smile before moving into the damaged courtyard, waiting. The blonde angel did not come down an alley but rather out the front door of a nearby council hall, tripping down the flight of stairs to stop in surprise at the sight of his brother.

"What? Still here? Good, make yourself /useful/ and help me kill this thing..." Cassiel fell silent as a not-so-gentle hand firmly grabbed his shoulder and pulled him aside. Keeping a strong grip on his ragged brother, Raphael gave a brief nod of consent to the prophet. Cassiel stared again. "Him!? What the hell is he doing here? I dealt with /him/ already!"

//~ If you think /that/ was supposed to stop me, then I'm surprised Ashley hasn't finished you already... but then he really isn't himself right now...~//

"Behave, Cassiel, he says he can solve your problem for you... I for one am curious to see him try." Everyone fell silent as a large form burst through the heavy wooden doors.

// By the Lady... Ashley? Is that really you? //

The creature's forward momentum was checked as it absorbed the new situation. The paladin clearly sensed its target, but the second angel, and the vaguely familiar presence blocking its path, caused it to slow then stop, confused.

//~ Ashley? ~// Sydney seriously doubted the man would respond to a simple call. The black armor was brimming over with Dark energies; he could detect no hint of a definite personality. And yet, the burning eyes fixed on him, and the sword lowered an inch. There was some level of recognition.

//~ Ashley, 'tis over, a truce had been declared... ~//

"... By whom...?"

"Shut-up, Cassiel." The paladin's attention wavered between the placating mage and the quietly bickering angels.

// What a /wonderful/ time their family reunions must be... // Sydney push the useless thought aside and risked a step closer to his partner, speaking directly into his mind.

// Ashley... Ashley, can you hear me? // The sword lowered another inch and the mage took it as a sign of permission. Keeping his movements slow and harmless, he walked up to the giant and raised a hand above his head to gently touch the glowing Rood Inverse etched into the metal chest.

// 'Tis only I... Sydney... do not be alarmed... // The Dark recognized him easily, purring its satisfaction at the day's excitement. To find the Riskbreaker, the prophet was positive he'd have to go deeper.

// Ashley... come back... let me lead you back... //

At first there was only a void, empty and sickening; but straining himself, Sydney heard a voice whisper his name. Reaching out with all his might, he felt the unmistakable presence; a connection.

He was no longer burning, everything flammable had been scoured away hours ago as the rage inside grew stronger, hotter. Now he merely existed; a pulsing concentrated core of purpose fed by the black fire all around him. He could remember no name, could not recollect if there had ever been a time /before/ the darkness, /before/ the fire. He really did not care, he knew what he had to do.

// CASSIEL. //

Obstacles littered the path to the target. They were annoying, they slowed him down. Reaching out with sword and Dark, he destroyed them without effort. It was easy.

// DESTROY //

He was still too slow, had sustained too much damage to be healed all at once. The paladin persevered, certain another opportunity would arise. There were fewer live obstacles anymore; their terror, so sweet tasting, had faded as the survivors fled. He had wanted to give chase, but something inside him, an almost silent shouting, made him stay on the trail of the angel. It was his mission.

// CASSIEL. //

He burst through the final obstacle, his target /so/ close, but found himself slowing. That voiceless will that compelled him was shouting once more. There was now not one angel but two, the /target/, and another. Neither caught his attention as much as the presence directly in front of him. He was positive the man was an ally, trusted, but did not understand why his path to the target was blocked. He moved to go around, but found he could not. The weak ghost reached up to touch his chest, and the world suddenly became confused. Someone's hand clamped off the flow of energy close to the source.

// DESTROY? //

// Ashley... Ashley, can you hear me? // The voice echoed loudly in the cavernous spaces where until a moment ago the Dark had flowed wildly. The voice, so soothing, calm and gentle, spread through the slowing vortex like an echo, carrying all the way to the center. The presence that had been firmly rooting the paladin's feet suddenly fell truly silent, listening. The call came again.

// 'Tis only I... Sydney... do not be alarmed... //

Finding strength he didn't know he had, Ashley opened his eyes and struggled to free himself from the claustrophobic space he had been sealed into. It was as if he had been standing in the surf, unaware, as the tide came in and packed wet sand all around. The Riskbreaker felt Sydney's presence strengthen, concern echoing as the mage searched.

// Ashley... come back... let me lead you back... //

Finally free, but as weak as a newborn, Ashley projected his entire will into a singular cry. It seemed he was destined to be forever rescued from himself by the scolding mage, but he had no strength to care.

" I'm /here/! "

The Riskbreaker was content to lay face first in the cold, black, mud-like surface his mind had chosen to portray the now-inert Dark. He knew eventually he would have to get up, to push the torpid, sated substance back behind the seals of his mind, but for a moment he merely rested, and waited.

"Oh, look at you..." Sydney's voice was worried, exasperated and sounded simply wonderful. Slim capable hands hauled him onto his back, giving him a view of the 'nothing' that was the 'sky,' and the pale, tired face. "Ashley... remind me again exactly /who/ once told you that you had no imagination? I think I want to curse them... Who in their right mind would banish their consciousness to a /mire/... this is disgusting..." The blonde's hands and clothing were indeed smeared with the sticky muck.

"You look like I feel..." The knight pushed himself upright in slow steps and offered a hand to the mage. A trickle of soothing energy flowed from the prophet and gave Ashley the strength to reach up and pull off the helmet. The Dark, the bog, and the prophet faded from view as the seals reset, and he woke up.

The Riskbreaker came back to himself for the first time in what felt like days, his body violently protesting its recent, prolonged abuse. Sinking to his knees, he fought to retain consciousness as the world swam into focus around him. The presence of not one, but two angels, still very much alive, should have caused him to panic, but he physically couldn't. Sydney's calm emotions soothed his fears away despite his stubbornness.

// W-What happened...? How long? //

// You fought an angel to a /draw/... it took the better part of a day... // The knight almost smiled at the mix of pride and disbelief coming from the blonde. His face, like everything else, hurt too much to move. // The one next to Cassiel is called Raphael, a marginally /saner/ person as far as I can tell.// Ashley accepted the additional information bemusedly, still somewhat startled to be alive.

"Well, that was anticlimactic." The red-haired angel was still carefully observing the now normal sized, and obviously injured knight, as he released his grip on his sibling. There had been none of the pyrotechnics that Cassiel had seen earlier, the paladin's mass wavering and melting away in a quiet hiss.

"I /knew/ it ... I /knew/ he was almost finished... I could've had him!" The ghost and Raphael gave the well scuffed and still bleeding angel a long look.

"Be silent. You asked for my help, and I provided, do not be ungrateful..."

"/You/ didn't do /anything/..."

"Are you so certain? You never specified the form that my help must take. This is what I chose... you owe me a debt, brother. I'd be tempted to punish you, but somehow I think /that one/ did a far better job of it than I'd waste the effort on."

"You wouldn't be able to, you mean..." Cassiel grimaced under the hard stare. "Fine, name your debt... I just want to leave this dump."

"You will leave this man alone from now on, you will seek no more to harness the Dark. Only suffering can come of this."

"What?! As if /you/ wouldn't /grab/ the chance if it was offered... We could've /taken/ it..."

"We? How curious you use that word now that the battle is /over/. Weren't you planning to use it to reign supreme? No. Cassiel, I wanted it once, but no more. Let Müllencamp and her children be. There are few enough of them, and they seem to have an ability to remain discreet unless /provoked/."

"You're just going to /let them go/? They're a /menace/, they should be contained!"

Raphael's eyes flickered contemptuously over the other angel and then thoughtfully over to the silently watching ghost. "What he says has some merit, little ghost. You owe me a debt as well, it would be easy enough to exterminate you both now..."

//~ True, but you declared truce, and you are not a creature to break your word. ~// Sydney had always been an excellent gambler. Reading the angel's intention was no real challenge. //~ I'll hear your boon. As you say, we owe you a debt. ~//

" 'Tis a small enough thing, and one I doubt you or your Lady will find terribly taxing... I want you gone, hidden, as you have been these many years. Do what you wish, go where you wish, but cause no more cataclysms. The savaging of two towns in less than two days... 'tis a little /extreme/ is it not?" Raphael held up a hand to forestall any complaint. "I know that you were provoked... but /still/, there were less destructive options. Can I have your word that you will not willfully do this again?"

// I wonder if he treats /everyone/ as if they were children... //

// Judging by the look on Cassiel's face? Yes. // Ashley was more than awake enough to see the other angel rolling his eyes in irritation at the high-handed speech. The mage suppressed a laugh and assumed an even more serious face.

//~ We accept your terms. ~//

"I am not entirely done yet. Cassiel has given his oath that he will not raise a hand against you again. As a token of good fellowship, I ask you to do the same." Raphael's face was all politeness, but the other angel's smile promised mayhem.

// Wait a second, Syd... I want a clause on that one. //

// You have a point. //

//~ You can hardly expect us to stand idly by should your brother choose to harm our home or friends... We must be able to protect what is ours. ~//

"You imply he would follow the words of the oath and not the spirit?" He gave his brother another long look. Cassiel's innocent expression was a dismal failure. "You may have a point. I will honor the spirit of this truce even if he does not, inform me of any breaches at your discretion."

"That's not /fair/... How will you know they're not lying?!"

"How do I know that you won't either?"

//~ We give you our word that we shall never raise hand to Cassiel out of vengeance over these events, or in any purely malevolent way. All efforts will be made to settle disputes in a... less drastic manner. Is this agreeable? ~//

// Good enough. // The Riskbreaker nodded his agreement.

Raphael smiled, pleased that so many of the complications had been tidily resolved. The fact that his brother was thoroughly hamstrung by his own doing only made the day sweeter.

"Come Cassiel, you'll need help getting your wing bones set properly, not to mention grafting the feathers back in place." He took the bitter man's arm and began to murmur a spell to carry them away. The blonde shot one last sharp look over to the slouched knight.

"Not a word of this to anyone, Rood Bearer, or I swear I will do everything in my power to make you rue the day you were born..."

"Who would I tell who'd believe it? I have all I want, Cassiel, I need no additional glory. A lesson-by-example for you, if you will." Ashley rose to his feet and watched the startled angel disappear.

//~ Did you mean that? You'll not tell the world of how you nearly defeated the most powerful being in existence? ~//

"What would be the point?"

//~ I don't know... 'twould be an exciting story... ~// The mage shrugged at the man's doubtful look. Limping heavily, Ashley began the painful and tedious process of leaving town.

"You're the storyteller, not me... besides, I don't really remember anything after I sent you away." Sydney watched the Riskbreaker's slow progress with a professional eye.

//~ You're going to collapse if you keep that up. You need to rest. I've seen dog-meat in better condition. ~//

The man halted and turned. "Thank you... I think..." This time Ashley did smile, the long-forgotten lopsided grin forming easily despite his sore jaw. "I'll drop soon enough, whether I walk or no. I'd just rather not do it /here/."

//~ Then we should go /elsewhere/. Allow me... ~// The mage couldn't help but grin in return, the surprising smile was infectious.

"You're injured, you shouldn't exert yourself..."

//~ So says the pot to the kettle... You are in far worse shape than I. ~// Refusing to be put off by the taller man's grumbled complaints, the cultist began to cast.

"Am I truly so badly hurt? To be honest, I don't feel /so/ bad... mostly just tired."

The ghost looked over at the battered man in disbelief. //~ Would you have your injuries listed by severity? Or order of acquisition? ~// The knight gave a tired snort, and the spell was complete, the city left to smolder and crumble in solitude.

// Broken shoulder, broken ankle, broken arm... but I should count that twice... four broken ribs... Fractured wrist, four vertebrae, and three ribs... but no serious lacerations, or internal damage or madness... a frightening, but not terrifying final accounting... what a mess... //

The Riskbreaker had barely been able to walk by the time they found an agreeable sanctuary. The small cave was littered with dry leaves and would probably be cold and drafty, but it hardly mattered to the knight. He simply moved to the deepest point and curled against the wall, pulling the piled brush over him like a blanket. Sydney paused a moment before following the already unconscious man out of the waking world, checking that the many injuries were all setting and healing as they should. For once everything seemed to be cooperating with them, and with a relieved sigh, the cultist let go.

The kitchen seemed strangely lonely now that Müllencamp was gone. It seemed like years ago that they had sat in wait, although Sydney's tired mind supplied the actual figure as being less than twenty-four hours.

// It was nerve-wracking... just sitting here as Ashley entered that castle. But she was positive that my presence would have only complicated things... given away his location... Not like the bastard wasn't waiting for us... // The mage found himself not as tired as he had expected. Returning to the Shadow Lands only accelerated his almost completed healing process. The Riskbreaker was almost certainly asleep, drifting in his regenerating and peaceful torpor. Simply thinking of the man made Sydney suddenly anxious to check on the knight once more. He was out the door and down the path before the thought consciously completed.

The smell of the wind was sweet, and the sunlight made him feel drowsy as he ambled across the field. Despite his increasing familiarity with the place, he could feel something had changed.

// It smells... greener... and the light is richer too... such subtle changes... //

" So surprised, 'Trouble'? He remembers more accurately now, and this place reflects it... "

He could make out the goddess' kneeling form beneath the tree, supporting the knight's head in her lap as though he was a child. The cultist approached as quietly as possible.

" I wouldn't worry, this one will sleep the day out at least. You should remember how draining it was, and you only used my gift for a matter of minutes... "

" Aye, Lady... Your champion was a marvel. Are you pleased? " He sat at her side, admiring the dark man's utterly relaxed features.

" Very... he is a handsome one, your love, pleasing to look upon... Pity that he is usually such a stubborn ass... I'd almost be tempted to borrow him from you. "

Sydney blushed at the woman's arch smile. " He's not... I mean we haven't... it's just that... " The cultist felt an absolute fool.

" It always amazes me how a perfectly eloquent bard of your caliber can go all to pieces at the mention of that word... 'Love,' Sydney, 'tis a simple enough thing to say... I'm almost positive I've heard you use it in reference to other things... why so hard now? "

He made a face at her light laughter. " Such a simple word for a complex problem... "

" Ah, and here comes the melancholy... the two of you deserve each other, my 'Troublesome priest'... and my 'Idiot champion,' what a pair you are... " Pulling the mage closer, she gently shifted Ashley from her lap to his and gave each a gentle peck on the cheek. Too surprised to say anything, the blonde simply stared at his burden and then up at the stretching woman. " Tell him, 'Trouble'... If you wait for /him/ to speak first, you may wait forever..." She gave him a brilliant smile. " And while you're at it, tell him that I was very proud of him today... and you too. " She vanished, leaving a group of confused and buzzing purple bumblebees in her wake.

// 'Tell him'... Easy for her to say...// He simply could not remain irritated for long, however, as the field's lazy atmosphere affected him. It was with a feeling of deep peace that he twined his fingers through the sleeping man's hair and slouched against the tree, lulled by the droning bees.

Sydney awoke sometime later and was at once perfectly content and very disoriented.

// ...Where? Oh, the Tree... but wasn't I sitting...? // His drowsy mind refused to take the question seriously for a moment and he simply relaxed into the warm if slightly heavy embrace. The still sleeping knight had somehow managed to shift him into a comfortable curl.

// He must have woken up... I wonder how long we've been napping... he may heal faster here, but he'll dehydrate if he doesn't go back for at least a little. // The cultist was unwilling to disturb the man however, promising himself to wake the fighter later if he still hadn't stirred. There was no sign of the damage Ashley had sustained while they were in the Shadow Lands. Hesitant at first, and then with greater daring, he ran a gentle finger over the Riskbreaker's sleeping features, amazed all over again at how deep his feelings for the knight ran.

// It would be so easy to kiss him... we came /so/ close... poor Ashley, it's really been a miserable day for you, hasn't it... first those people dying, then being made to remember... then Cassiel... no wonder I don't want to wake you... you deserve this peace... //

"Would that I could let you sleep like this forever..." Sydney didn't realize he had spoken aloud until the 'sleeping' man cracked an eye. The mage froze, hand still resting on the smooth cheek.

"I'd rather not, if 'tis all the same... 'twould be a rather dull existence..." The other brown eye opened and blinked lazily as the knight came fully awake. "Hullo."

"You're awake." Ashley's face lit up with another tired smile at the startled comment. This only caused the blonde to become more disconcerted.

"Yes. That does tend to happen when you sleep..." The knight gave his friend a gentle tap on the forehead to shake him from his blank silence. "Oye. What's the matter?"

Sydney blinked and recovered himself, "Ashley... you're smiling...you never smile..."

"I smile all the time!"

"Not like this, you don't... Usually you hoard them tighter than a miser his gold, giving out a fraction here, a half there... they're gone as soon as they arrive. You actually look /happy/ right now... I'm not sure whether to be pleased or alarmed."

"Humph." The dark man attempted to school his face into its usual sober lines but was obviously suppressing a laugh. The mage simply gave him a long stare until the knight surrendered and released the short chuckle. "Alright, you win, but I don't see why it upsets you." The blonde found that he couldn't help but smile as well.

"I didn't say /upset/, I said /alarmed/. But ...you've changed, Ashley... 'Tis as though you've broken through some barrier in yourself... 'Tis startling to finally see it, that's all..."

"Hmmm..." The taller man thought for a moment and then rolled onto his back, gently pulling Sydney along. "I /remember/ now, Sydney... but I suppose she told you that already... Not everything... not much at all really... but I /remember/... it feels..." The man paused looking for the correct word and failing.

"I'm glad... " The mage couldn't help but be curious. "So, were you right?"

"Right about what?"

"Which set of memories was the real one, and which the false?"

The man's smile faded as he considered the question. "Both. I guess... discounting how I thought they happened at the same time... They were meant to be chronological... somehow they were... spliced?

"It could happen. Strange things happen when broken spells are layered..."

"Ugh." Ashley let go of the blonde in order to stretch his arms above his head, and then pillowed his head on his hands, dismissing the complicated idea. Sydney spent several quiet moments listening to the large man's strong heartbeat before hearing the deep voice again. "Syd?... I just wanted to say...Thank you."

He lifted his head from the man's shoulder, surprised. "Whatever for?"

"By my calculations, you successfully saved my life no less than four times today. An absurd number, even for someone as stupid as me..."

"You're not stupid... careless maybe... but four? Is that right?" The cultist tallied the events of the day in his head. "By my count 'tis only two. Once in the castle, and once in the forest... Heh, sounds like the beginning of a bawdy song..."

"Stop." The knight rolled his eyes. "I count the two times today you kept me from loosing myself as well... they were valid saves."

"Keeping you from slipping into madness is hardly the same, Ashley... /that/ I can do at no real risk to myself..."

"I'm sorry about that... I should have been faster."

"Don't be, I consider my pain to be fully avenged... /that one/ looked half-plucked by the time you were done. A worthy victory."

"Draw."

"/Victory/." Sydney grinned at the man's confused expression. " 'Tis true, you didn't have his head on a pike... but /think/, all of /our/ goals were met. The mystery was solved, Cassiel was punished, countless lives were saved, and you did it all without going mad... or suffering any permanent damage! What else could you possibly want?"

"People died, Sydney... innocent people... hardly an unblemished success." At first the mage was silent, certain that there was nothing he could say to take away the man's pain; then suddenly, he realized there was.

"I forgive you, Ashley."

"What?" The startled man propped himself on an elbow to better see the cultist's expression. The gray eyes that met his were both serious and gentle.

"I said, 'I forgive you.' ... I do not think any less of you for what happened. I do not hate you. I could never hate you..."

"You... forgive...?" Ashley's face was suddenly distant and vulnerable as the memory of his brief collapse flashed before his eyes. It all seemed so unreal after the subsequent discoveries and the battle with the angel. He felt a faint blush at the way the smaller man had rescued him; what they had /almost/ done. The mage's soft whisper brought his mind back to the present with a jolt.

" I forgive you... I love you." His first impulse was to believe that there was some mistake, and he silently stared at the younger man's profile. Sydney was silent, as if he had never spoken at all, staring intensely at the grass in his hands, hair obscuring his face.

// "...I love you." // The hesitant whisper seemed to echo in his chest, making it tighten in sympathy. Ashley could almost taste the blonde's anxiety, and that more than anything convinced him that the words had been no delusion. He knew something had to be said, the silence needed to be broken before the smaller man lost his nerve and fled, but he wasn't sure what to do.

//"...I love you," he says reluctantly... Did it cost you so dearly to admit it, whelp? Does it bring you pain? Can I parrot those words back to you and take it away? ... /Do/ I love you? I would /die/ for you... I've already proven willing to /kill/ for you... but is that love? I loved Tia and it all seemed so easy... everything was so much less complicated then... I didn't spend all my time with a dead man for starters...// Ashley suppressed a grimace of doubt. // Say Something! //

He reached out to catch a limp arm and gently pulled the mage around to meet his eye. The narrow face looked delicate as it was cupped in his large callused hand. Desperate for something to say that wouldn't come out wrong, his mind was racing through everything he wished he had courage to utter; hoping to find one thing that he /could/ say, something that wouldn't make the cultist turn away.

// What do I feel for you...? Some days I want to strangle you. But those days have grown fewer lately. Mostly, I just want to protect you, to make you smile. You should never feel alone. I need you. I need you to need /me/. I feel more alive with every moment we're together, for good /or/ ill. I /live/ for you... // The answer when it came was remarkably lucid.

"You complete me."

Sydney's closed expression slowly dissolved first into puzzlement and then into a contented comprehension. "I do?" There was none of his customary artifice as he allowed his eyes to reveal his wonder and hope.

"Yes. You do." He hated himself for being a coward. The words he knew he should've said were at the tip of his tongue, but he could not make them come. He couldn't lie, not when his feelings on the matter were so confused. Where was the line between loyalty and devotion, need and desire? Dizzily he wondered if the cultist would care one way or the other.

"Sydney, I...," even to apologize for it seemed foolish, but he couldn't simply leave it alone. "I'm sorry... I..."

"Hush. I know. 'Tis alright, Ashley." The gentle fingers touched his face again, tracing the lines of worry and smoothing back his hair.

"But, you..."

"/I/ have been carefully considering the idea for some time... I didn't expect a sudden declaration."

"I just... "

"There's no rush. Take whatever time you need, I can wait."

"Damnit, whelp, will you kindly let me /finish/ a sentence?" The mage nearly jumped at the sharp reprimand, and attempted to pull away in embarrassment. The knight caught his hands before he could do more than shift his weight, smiling again to prove there was no real anger in the statement. "Not that I truly care that you can eternally anticipate me... but at least let me say the words, I forget what we're talking about when you do that..." Catching the younger man's eyes and holding them he tried to make him see what it was he wasn't ready to say. " I don't want you to have to wait."

"You don't have to do this..." Sydney felt himself pulled closer into the embrace, his chin tilted up.

"I know. But Sydney... I want to." The words were a warm breath against the mage's face as he let his eyes close and surrendered to the kiss.

---

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Notes: 60 pages baby! Oh dear God... This'll likely have to be broken in half before I post it on fanfiction.net….

All I have to say for this chapter is (1) this book is /done/… cooked, dead… so happy (2) Wondering about Cassiel or Raphael? Want to learn more? go visit their creator, Twig! Right Now! the url is: http://www.msu.edu/user/strampe2/ You won't be sorry. If you liked them write her and tell her so : ) She'll even write back! Honest. Huge thanks to my editor, without whom, I'd have been too self-conscious to finish this epic. You should visit her page too, it's keen. http://www.fortunecity.com/rivendell/warrior/304/

And then of course you should /always/ visit me : )… and write me… I'll talk to damn near /anyone/ about VS stuff… I'll talk your ear off… erm… write your ear off… erm… write your screen off? That makes no sense… Look for new… shorter Vagrant Story stories (funny!) soon… this tale ain't half done yet…

Did you catch the extra stupid Matrix and Scooby-Do steals?… there's also a positively arcane Tannith Lee reference and I'll give a fanart to anyone who can find /that/ one on their own… I like Tannith Lee…

Jaa.

Lunar.

http://www.roodinverse.homestead.com