Story: Relocation

It had taken hours, but finally the work was done. Everything, down to the last bit of metal was now safely inside the solid walls of a giant acorn. Dozens of portal trips, a false start at creating a small bit of nil space within a box, and a few small tasks for the Fae later, Sukasa's new home was secured without a trace. His old home was left immaculate - he had scrubbed down every wall, ceiling and floor both physically and magically to remove any trace that he and Ilsael had been there at all. He had even transplanted all of Ilsael's plants, even the ones he didn't know anything about.

All all that belonged to him was there...except one...

The boy made his way back to the Silverleaf Inn, trailed by a rather rowdy - but silent - Kerra child. He tried his best to ignor her, finally stopping to sigh as they neared the inn.

"You'll wake him, if you keep this up..." he mumbled, half asleep himself after all that work.

With a slight sniff, the Kerra grew smaller, shifting into the form of a normal house cat. Shaking his head, the young wizard continued on to the Inn.

Quietly, he made his way past the front desk, following a few hallways until he found the room Ilsael had rented for them. Slipping inside, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness within before slowly calling up a veil of flames to better his vision. Carefully, he began placing their backpacks and weapons into the box, closing it silently before strapping it to his back. Once the box was secured, he made his way over to the bed, staring down at the figure resting there for a long moment.

"I will protect you..." Ilsael had growled, slowly transforming into a massive bear...

While he did not doubt the mystic, he had just as strong of a desire to protect the Koada'dal, and while their spirits were one, they still were very different in their methods.

Wrapping a blanket tightly around the slumbering boy, Sukasa carefully lifted him up out of the bed, momentarily fighting for balance as he adjusted his hold on the larger boy. Once confident he had a good hold on Ilsael, the wizard began whispering the words of a portal spell, and the room about them slowly shifted.

Shimmering with magic, reality slowly settled into the familiar yet foreign surroundings of the new home, the sounds of the boys' large bath drifting into Sukasa's ears. Smiling to himself, he tooke several small steps to the bedside, gently laying the mystic down upon the waiting sheets.

Now everything that belonged to Sukasa was safe inside the walls of the acorn.



For a long moment, the boy stood next to their bed, looking about their new room with a sort of quiet reverie. Things were similar to what they were in Qeynos, however he'd had to shift a lot of things around due to the shape of the acorn. Hopefully it would be familiar enough that Ilsael wouldn't be too alarmed in the morning.

Moving away from the bed, he pulled off the worn work shirt, tossing it into the small basket the boys used for carrying their laundry. His hand reached up to touch where his collar bones met, still unused to the missing phoenix charm, almost expecting to feel it tap against his chest as it normally did when he undressed.

While the soft rains of Karana had washed away what was left of Apathy, some of the things he had learned during his time under Avarice's care remained. He would never be able to weild the powers of illusions and coercion, not even any parlor tricks, but he had learned how to paint emotion and thought into images - the unbreakable telepathy with Shelly had slowly developed his mind's eye into a moving canvas, his thoughts and memories had become almost as vibrant and realistic as the things that happened outside of his mind.

First, it had been Julian's hand, the knights fingers slowly rolling an odd stone in them. Slowly, Julian's hand had faded into a slender, more familiar hand, rolling the same stone in the same manner. The images shifted, over and over again, seemlessing shifting between the two hands until another memory arose...

...Shelly...Avarice, standing beside Sukasa, rolling the stone in her hand while nervously awaiting...something, he didn't have time to remember what...

...Julian's hand...Shelly's hand...again they morphed into each other, the stone remaining the same as the wizard watched the knight in the "safety" of the dwarven outpost...

Shaking his head, Sukasa tried to again push the images that assaulted his mind away, tired of their presence. He spent little time with the Windrunners, his research in portals and folding space upon itself taking him to fairly obscure locations, compared to the Company's regular routes. He had always felt safe with them after everything that had occurred in Freeport...until now.

Without realising it, the wizard had begun to pace through the room, the strange house cat trailing in his wake, trying her best to help him sort through the images and emotions that assaulted him even in the safety of his new home.

...the realisation had struck him like a ton of bricks, crashing through his psyche like a bull in a china shop. Everything else in the small confines of the room vanished as he stared at the stone. His terror seeped unrestrained from his mind into his soul, and onto Ilsael. The mystic frowned at the smaller boy, a puzzled but concerned expression crossing his face.

In his mind, he saw Avarice's beautiful but dangerous smirk fading into the interchanging image of Julian and Shelly's hands holding the stone. He was broadcasting it, trying so hard to make Ilsael see, but the events surrounding the collapse of the Company's manufacturing building had the mystic's attention stretched thin.

While his eyes remained on Julian, Ilsael gently guided the wizard's head to rest against his chest, holding the boy protectively as he whispered to him.

"What's wrong?" the elder boy questioned, his eyes following Sukasa's before adding, "The thoughtstone?"

The wizard continued to stare at the stone that rolled in Julian's hand, knowning few - if anyone else - there would know that motion. His panicked mind raced swiftly, remembering melting with current thoughts. The air around the boys shimmered, as if a portal wished to open; flashes of the Faydark, then the runic stone within Teren's Grasp and the walls of their Qeynosian home appeared faintly in the unstable magic as the wizard questioned what to do next.

Any and all instincts screamed at him to take Ilsael away from Julian, to someplace safer until something was done about the puppet.

"Sukasa, it's all right..." the mystic began.

As Julian slid the stone back into his pocket, Sukasa faintly shook his head, whispering his reply, "She...Avarice's stone...he's p-playing with it..."

"Is there anything," Julian began, pausing to look at the two boys before finishing, "anyone needs?"



The wizard sat down heavily on the edge of his side of the bed. Ilsael stirred slightly, reaching towards him. Absently, the boy reached out and slipped his hand into the mystic's, and the mystic quickly settled back into his sleep. He didn't want to trouble Ilsael any more tonight with what had happened - he barely had kept the mystic from marching them both back to the outpost to explain everything.

"Yeah," he whispered into the darkness, "I need answers...real answers...the truth..."

He had promised Sugan that he would stay away from the Darkness, and now it was creeping its way back upon them in the form of a knight. The boy wondered what Sugan was thinking, if she was watching the man who was once her squire...why had she let it happen at all?

Maybe it had been a test that Julian had failed, maybe that's why he'd gone back to Avarice's arms.

Though hidden, Sukasa could still see Julian's fingers moving over the stone, and as it shifted into Shelly's hand, he finally whispered to Ilsael, "It is! I know it is. Its worn...just like it...its Her stone! I...remember her holding it, just like he was, the same motion...tracing the same places..."

No sooner than the words had left his mouth, the images played over in his mind's eye again, rapidly shifting between the two different hands, and for a moment, he could imagine Avarice standing on a balcony above Julian, carefully working puppet strings while idly tracing her fingers along the stone.

The air about them shifted more rapidly, trying to keep pace with the flurry of subconcious thoughts that were formulating within the wizard's head; his studies of portals and folding space had made their use almost natural, like breathing, and the boy did not notice what was being created about them though Ilsael frowned at what had been whispered, and what was happening around them.

"I wonder why he would have it?" Ilsael mused quietly.

Without hesitation, Sukasa replied, "...he's still Hers..."

Shuddering slightly, he pulled himself away from the memories, trying desperately to focus on the room he was in now. Though he knew Apathy had been washed away by Karana's healing rain, he wondered exactly how much of his mind was still twisted by Avarice's deadly touch. Part of him wondered if he'd simply lost his mind at some point, and that the way he thought was a result of that and not remnants of her influance over him.

Curling up onto the bed beside Ilsael, still a good distance away from the mystic, but still able to hold his hand, the boy began to rock back and forth slightly as he faintly whispered over and over again.

"I belong to Karana, not Avarice...I'm not Hers..."

Ilsael had been staring at Julian for some time as well, the faint flutterings of energy along his blue tattoos suggested that the mystic was looking into Julian rather than at him. Finally, the elder boy whispered, "His spirit is very damaged..."

The boys watched the knight in silence, Sukasa's fear growing steadily as the same images tumbled in his mind's eye, overlaying reality with their horrors. Ilsael, on the other hand, studied Julian somberly, quietly gauging the knight with his typical calm.

"He won't harm you.. I will protect you," he whispered, his form rippling beneath Sukasa as the mystic transformed into a very large bear. With a possessive whuff, he sat down beside the wizard, the younger boy clinging to the familiar beast. It was childish, but the great ursine form comforted the boy, the strong flesh much more commanding than that of the Koada'dal...

Strong arms finally found their way about the painfully thin boy, pulling him down and across the bed into a tight hug. At first, the mystic had questioned his beloved's words, unable to believe that Julian would return to Avarice for anything but after the boy had teleported them away from the meeting, he knew Sukasa had been telling the truth. Whether willingly or forced, Julian had somehow returned to Avarice and was not the same man he had been before the warehouse collapsed.

Even as the great bear, the mystic knew he woudn't withstand Julian for long, especially if the knight was guided and aided by the Lady Shadow; he still would have stood between the two, even if horribly overpowered - he would fight unto death for Sukasa, and knew that the wizard would do no less for him, even without the boy's reckless teleportation.

Ilsael's grey-blue eyes stared down at the top of Sukasa's head, the elder boy frowning slightly at the distant flashes of images he saw and the little bits of whispers he heard.

"...Karana...not Shelly..."

Story: Broken

Sukasa sat shaking after Ilsael was called away, deep in a meditative trance. He tried desperately to see the face of his Father, the man beating him...trying to do what his new-found mother asked of him. With a heavy sigh, the boy stood, gathering his robes as he headed back inside the house, frowning at his clouded mind.

After a few minutes of thought, the boy takes two quick drinks of some sort of alcohol, a false determination quickly rising in him - slightly delusional from the alcohol and his meditations, Sukasa made his way out of their home, determined to find his Father like Miriella had asked him; his instincts carrying him to the Commonlands.

The further the boy travelled from Qeynos, the less false bravado he had and the more anxious fear filled him. Upon reaching Nektulos forest, the fear spiked, making him nearly turn back until he heard Miriella's plea to know who his father echoing in his ears. He had to find his father, it was what his new mother needed him to do, though he didn't quite understand why.

Several hours later, deep in the wilderness of D'lere, Kasa sat down beside a crumbling tower, resting in the shade. He sighed deeply, taking a sip of whatever odd alcohol he'd found back at home from a small flask as he leaned back against the stones. Before he could even collect his thoughts, a darker shadow drifted over his form, causing him to look upward to a familiar figure that leered down at him; the boy's mouth opened to scream, but the figure moved quickly, a heavy hand crashing into his shoulder before he could make a single sound. sprawling on his stomach, the boy closed his eyes reflexively, body tensing before the next blow hit.

This was all too familiar...

The second blow connected to the back of his other shoulder, the man knocking him into the dusty ground beneath the tower as the man screamed something the boy couldn't understand before he struck him again in the center of his back; faintly, he thought he heard the man shouting about a woman...his mother, how he looked just like her...how he'd killed her...but everything was fading away as his mind retreated beneath each heavy blow to his body.

"Yvette, stole her life, demon," the man muttered as he pummeled the little boy's backside over and over, "stole her face...took her from me..."

The landscape of the boy's mind was barren and broken, chaotic and disoriented in a sort of surreal fashion. Amid the shattered void, a boy-child collapsed to the ground, screaming in terror as his physical body was beaten, calling out for someone to save him from what was happening - as his voice ripped through the psychic plane, the barren waste around him began tho shift, changing as it always did whenever his father saw fit to beat him. Soon the shaking, crying boy lay in the green fields outside of Qeynos, the physical assault a distant memory.

The beating continued, painful and bloody yet somehow distant at the same time with an odd, almsot numb emotion accompanying the beating. One shoulder was out of place, the other hanging at on odd angle, broken; another harsh blow to his back broke his spine with a sickening snap. As Sukasa's body began to stop trembling, true unconciousness drifting over his physical form, his father panicked.

"...K-kasa?" a girl's voice said, her distant touch strengthening after flinching away from his scream.

Lifting the broken boy, the man growled, "...can't leave, Yvette...not again...not yet -".

Delirous and stricken, the man could no longer see the little boy in his hands, instead he saw the broken body of his long-dead wife. Covered in her own blood, barely clinging to life after giving birth, all he longed for was one last intimate moment with her that he had been denied for so long; he believed he was lifting her to him, holding her tenderly in his embrace one last time...despite the erratic but constant striking blows to her back with one hand...

"Sukasa.. Sukasa? Sukasa... Ilsael, Sukasa..," the voices were deafening, the distant Ilsael continued to scream his pleas for help, and as he realised the brutal beating that was being done to his lover, the spirits revealled where the young mage was...

Hanging on the edges of life, the little boy's body hung limply in his father's arms as they collapsed to the ground together. For a long moment, his father held the child close, lovingly running his fingers through the boy's hair as he whispered his goodbyes to the dead Yvette, begging for her forgiveness. As his delirium waned, the man looked down at his son in shock before violently pushing the child away from him - broken and near death, the rag doll of a body tumbled several feet before coming to rest on its stomach in a twisted position, its shoulders sticking at odd angles while the upper back was turned horrifically from its lower.

Hysterical, he began tearing away the last bits of clothing from the child's body - most of it was already bloodied and torn, the rest easily pulled from his small frame. He tried to remove anything that might make a connection back to him, and yet still could not bring himself to strike anywhere but the boy's backsides.

"Sukasa, please don't die," her frantic voice begged as she felt the flickering flame of life recceeding from him.

The man stumbled away, taking the shreds of clothing and the boy's small pack and flasks with him , leaving the unconcious child alone to die beneath the fading sun. His breath slowed with each passing moment, his body barely moving as his blood slipped down his sides into the parched ground, each drop, each trickle taking him further from life.

"Sukasa! Don't leave me!"

"Apathy! Don't leave me!"

Their voices called him back, the broken child's hands clawing desperately into the grass beneath him, eyes closing against death's awaiting visage but he was so tired...so weak...



Griffons just didn’t seem fast enough for Corbin. Freeport was still far, and time was precious.

Ilsael, Sukasa’s beloved, had drawn enough alarm from Corbin. Somewhere down the line, Corbin might laugh at the fact his small visits to Sukasa’s home often involved running to find his younger brother, first. That was not this day, however.

The edge of Nektulos was in view now, through the treetops. Corbin grimaced and dug his spurred boot heels into the griffon’s side, urging him faster through the forest. The griffon bucked and protested, nearly throwing its passenger. The rogue gripped the beast’s back, patting it in apology as the large creature dove faster for the tower.

The swashbuckler shifted, crouching on the griffon’s back, poised to jump. The griffon wasn’t slowing. Corbin leapt, skidding across the wooden planks as he hit the tower’s platform, a blur of chain, limbs, and skin as he scrambled to his feet only to dive off the side of the tower.

Protests from the tamer only made him laugh as he landed easily on his feet, sprinting towards the final bridge.

‘Hold on, little brother… I am almost there…’



The Commonlands were as he remembered them—a stretch of mostly barren land and rock, with the occasional drinking pool and patch of green. The sun always seemed to shine red here.

Corbin rocked on his heels, biting his lip as he surveyed the land. He had many enemies here now, and was unsure of what he would be facing. A guise would help, if only a little.

Assuming the guise of an Ayr’dal, he continued through Lucan’s lands. Sukasa’s tracks were easy to follow, despite the traffic of footprints, paw prints, claw prints and snake windings. The orcs paid little attention to the passing black-clad Ayr’dal. For all purposes, he could have easily been a highwayman.

Corbin stopped as suddenly as the tracks did, his dark eyes scanning the area. Broken stone, tower, the occasional wandering undead sentry…and Sukasa.

The younger Feir’dal was face down, stripped of possessions and dignity. Corbin’s stomach lurched as he saw the blood and the strange twisting of the frail and broken form.

The rogue knelt, lifting the bloodied form into his arms, a small scream wrenching from the mage, causing his brother to wince. Carefully balancing the boy, Corbin rummaged through his pack, drawing out a traveling blanket. He wrapped the pale-haired boy in it carefully. The blanket soon stained with the motionless boy’s own blood.

Sukasa’s shallow breathing only furthered Corbin’s panic. His brother needed help. If they started for Qeynos, they might arrive too late. A distress flare was fired into the air, Corbin finally finding some usefulness in the gnomish fireworks.

The elder brother drew his hand across Sukasa’s face brushing a bit of hair away from his eyes as he waited, in hope. He struggled to speak, his voice grating and forced from the wounds Volcanus had inflicted on him.

“Brother… forgive me.”

Corbin watched the group of Bloodthorn as they approached. He was uneasy, but masked his true feelings behind an illusion of calm. The guise was still needed.

He stood, lifting his younger brother upwards in him. Avarice stepped forward, demanding. “You! Put him down at once!”

Corbin made no move to comply. The entourage, he noticed, composed of the human in red armor (aptly called Red), the defilers Chath and Caen, a blindfolded Teir’dal woman, and another male Teir’dal Corbin could not identify.

Red stepped forward, placing himself between Corbin and Avarice. The motion was surprisingly without malice. Corbin set his jaw, looking over the group once more. As much as he loathed trusting them at the moment, his brother needed help.

The false Ayr’dal held Sukasa out to them, in offering. He spoke quietly, his voice still forced and gravelly. “He…needs help.”

Avarice looked from Caen to the pair. “Caen, can you help him?”

At that moment, Sukasa’s body released a rattling breath, no further movement following. Fear gripped the rogue as he felt the death, his eyes pleading as he looked to the others once more. Avarice looked to rush to the boy, but stopped herself.

“Apathy, don’t die!”

Caen’s eyes were upon the boy then as the defiler stepped forward, his hand outstretched. He mumbled, grasping for some invisible thing in the air. “Oh no you don’t,” he said, taking hold of something only he could see, forcing it back towards Sukasa’s body—it was his spirit.

Avarice moved forward once more, stopping when Red laid a hand upon her shoulder. Sukasa’s body convulsed in his brother’s arms, the rogue sickened inside as he reflected on what had been done to the boy. What monster could have done this? The pacifist within him retreated, as thoughts of vengeance passed through his mind.

‘Justice,’ he reminded himself quietly. Sukasa shuddered again, whimpering, as Caen began to mend the broken bones and flesh with his skill. Sukasa screamed, causing Avarice to cover her ears.

Corbin set his jaw again, closing his eyes briefly at the sound. ‘No.

The question was posed. “What happened here?” Avarice asked. “You, Ayr’dal, were you here when this happened?”

Chath still looked on, impassively. “Don’ know,” the guttural voice replied. “Found ‘em.” It was no lie.

The healing, the physical healing, was nearing completion. One more thing was needed, to see to it that Sukasa never hurt so bad as this again. Corbin realized he did not wish his brother to see what he was about to do. Again, he offered the boy to Caen. “Take him.”

The defiler lifted an eyebrow, and Corbin offered forth his brother again. “Take ‘im. Ya know ‘im.”

An approaching stranger had drawn the attention of Avarice, Red, and Chath, but Corbin’s eyes remained focused on the defiler. Reluctantly, Caen lifted the boy into his own arms, as he began to stir.

“Wait,” Corbin murmured, yanking a carved bone pendant on a rope from around his neck, putting it into his brother’s hand. Sukasa offered only a confused look as he held onto Caen, and the pendant.

Slowly, Corbin stepped backwards, putting distance between himself and the others. Sukasa reached out to him with wide eyes, but Corbin offered only an apologetic smile in return.

“Trust me… little brother.”

The boy screamed as Corbin turned and ran, his guise melting away. These new tracks were even easier to follow.



His mind had time to seethe as he followed the set of tracks leading out towards the maze. These steps were heavier, an older male, he guessed. They weaved and darted, ever so often. The man was drunk, wounded, or maddened. Any which way, it would make this all the easier.

Corbin had seen a reflection of himself in Sukasa, when he had first met him. He recognized something in him that would make him prey to certain predators—predators that would gladly take advantage of the smaller, fairer, elves.

Corbin had fought against his attackers. Sukasa had not been able to. And so, Corbin would do what the younger had not, for him. A debt would be paid—life for broken life.

The man Corbin found was pacing, and raving, his fingers running through his white hair. The rogue approached him slowly, his blades drawn openly; his intentions clear on his face.

“Little demon… looked just like her… took her from me,” he could hear the man mumbling. Corbin set his jaw, eyes narrowed at the Feir’dal as he turned.

“My son… evil boy…. Looked just like her.”

Corbin stopped suddenly as the words, and the face before him, registered. He was, in many ways, an older more masculine portrait of Sukasa. The resemblance, even if slight, chilled the rogue.

“Your… son,” he spat. The older man jumped, eyeing Corbin hesitantly. This new feeling in him burned his blood, sweeping over him like fire. Sukasa’s own father… he was responsible.

Corbin approached, his dark hair blowing lightly in the slight air of the maze. His muscles tensed beneath the black chain mail, rapier and dagger gripped tightly. Emerging from the shadow, towards the man, Corbin’s stature was menacing. The shroud marking his face and bare arms appeared as if the shadows themselves had marked him.

“Death… death has come?” The man fidgeted, standing still to watch the approaching dark-skinned elf with a mix of hatred and curiosity in his eyes.

“Death…” Corbin growled. Corbin drew his dagger upwards, hurling it with precision towards the man’s throat. It stuck deep, drawing a cry of surprise from the older man as he yanked at it, trying to free the blade as his life poured forth from the wound.

“Death… is far too good fer ye…”



The man had died in writhing agony. Corbin had seen to that. The gore and blood surrounding the man’s body was only a fraction of what the man had felt. His body had suffered, even in death.

The mutilated carcass Corbin stood over was barely recognizable. The blood and bits of the man that covered the rogue was only a fraction of the damage… and he was not yet done. He yanked the man’s head, mostly severed from the torso, upward by the hair, cutting at the scalp until it was free.

“Souvenir,” he told the corpse, tying the hair and scalp to his belt. A grim smile crossed his features behind the blood as he studying the carnage. Pieces of the man littered the area-- a finger here, a chunk of flesh there, his arm dangling by threads.

"Ah. I was sent here to offer aid, though... I believe it has been taken care of," the voice caused Corbin to turn, noticing the blindfolded woman from before.

"It's been 'andled," he confirmed.
"Either way, I have been asked to retrieve the body. Even in the state it's in..." she explained and shifted, feeling the slickness of the sand beneath her footwear.

"Fine. I'll help."

Together, they gathered the pieces, placing them into the sack the woman carried. "Min' if I go wit ye?"
"By all means..."

"And.. kin ye do me a favor?"
The sightless woman turned in Corbin's direction. "Hm?"

"When we git there... I need ter talk ter Avarice. Jus' fer a minute, by her lonesome."
"That's fine. Follow me."

As they reached the still gathered few, Corbin stood and waited some ways back. After waiting moments, Avarice drew closer, covering her mouth and nose with a handkerchief at the sight of Corbin. The rogue didn't seem to notice the gore, himself.

"How did he come to this?" she asked, quietly. Corbin only shrugged in response, his voice sounding almost hollow with the response. "Parents is funny."

"That... was no parent. That was a monster," she said with a scowl. Corbin raised the scalp from his belt lightly, nodding. Avarice studied it briefly, looking back to Corbin.

"Apa... Kasa will be safe."
"I know."
The Ayr'dal girl touched her throat lightly, some small concern discernable behind the green eyes. "Are you okay?"
Corbin shifted his weight from one foot to the other in response. "It'll.. git easier."

Avarice nodded, with a small pause, and continued. "Sukasa has suffered more than, perhaps, you know. I do not intend on letting him go... at least, not until I am certain that whatever damage was done to his mind is repaired as well as I can."

Corbin paused, studying the smaller girl. "I was... rather.. goin' ter ask ye ter take care o' him.. fer me," he coughed, rubbing his throat, smearing the blood on it. Avarice covered her mouth again, continuing after a moment.

"Me? Cory, you trust me?"
"Kasa did. An' he'd be dead if it weren' fer ye." Avarice smiled a little at the words. Corbin lowered his gaze, speaking roughly. "Don' tellim wot I did. Please. Don' tell no one," he murmured, the realization of what he had done finally hitting him.

"I sent one of my soldiers to take care of the problem. The problem was taken care of." Corbin stepped closer, eyeing Avarice. The girl startled, with some alarm. "Cory..."

"Ye'll take care o' him, right?"
Avarice looked away, and the rogue looked down at himself, finally noticing the mess. He backed away quickly, appearing almost ill.

"I need to go... Corbin, are you going to be all right?" For a fleeting moment, she was Shelly again.
"I.. I have ter go... have ter go..."

Shelly sighed. "Please, don't blame yourself for this...ok? Promise me that!"

Corbin forced a crooked smile. "I don' make promises I cain' keep." He laughed, nervously, running his hand over his hair... blood and all.

"Cory.. write me again. It can help. I will help."

"I'll... ye'll hear from me. Go. Help m' brother..."

Image: Mama's Boy

Twilight - A journal entry

A diary is scrawled hastily onto the blank pages in the back of a sentient book, hidden amid the magical spells and incantions that belong there. The book even goes as far as to masque the pages to look like the rest, hidden behind diagrams and runes.

I should be studying, what I'm doing is dangerous enough, though while before Avarice, I won't summon this book.

Corbin was right - she betrayed me in the end. She brought someone with her to Julian's grave, was kind and polite, even sad until it was too late; I tried to run away when I saw her greed, but she dropped me all too easily. When I woke up, she placed a collar on my neck and told me I was hers, and that nothing could change that.

I was horrified to find this the truth, to find myself obeying her despite not wanting to.

She's brought me everywhere she's gone, making me read about everything she believes. It makes me remember things, from before - I already know these words, but I don't believe them...not after being in Qeynos.

I have to do what she says though - beyond the collar that forces me to, Avarice told me I wasn't allowed to see Ilsael again till I learn what she wishes...until she's sure I am becoming the Voice she wants me to be...her little Harbinger.

Last night, all I had were nightmares, and now this morning I can't even see the words on the pages she wants me to read - I can't even really tell if I'm writing alright or not. I feel sick, even with the healing Trecle gave me, even sicker from the broth Grandfather and his...friends...made me drink.

Trecle tells me that if I am away from Ilsael too long, we'll die but that Chath will just be used to keep me alive after Ilsael's wasted away. It scares me, I'm afraid Avarice will make Ilsael come here just so I don't die if Chath can't really do it...not that I care to live here, or without Ilsael.

Grandfather says I won't die, that its a foolish thing to think of. He was worried, I could see it, but he was hiding it from the rest of them - I think Mother told him to keep it a secret.

I...

I have learned one of her Precepts. Hate. I feel it every time I look at Chath, every time I think of where I am. I Hate being here, I Hate what she wishes for me to be, I Hate what Chath did to Ilsael and I - I Hate myself for not listening to my brother...

Tears stain the end of the words, causing them to run slightly. Finding the boy unable to write anything more, the book closes itself and vanishes, leaving him alone in the hall of the Bloodthorn.

Image: Pretty Boys

Stories: Fragments and Glimpses

Sukasa had gone to look for Ilsael, finding their inn room empty; the innkeeper mentioned the boy had gone into Oakmyst Forest to see about aiding the guards there - recent breakouts of corruption were still occuring, each wave seeming worse than the last. It didn't take long to find Ilsael, the other boy quietly inspectin a bush near the large pond at the center of the small forest.

He smiled at the other boy, almost nervous in interrupting him, "Th-the inkeeper said you'd come out here."

"It is wonderful to see you," Ilsael said, smiling at Sukasa as he turned and nodded. "Yes, I have been helping to remove the corruption."

Sukasa frowned and replied, "It - Its still here?"

"Sadly, Corruption exists everywhere," the older boy said, voice tinged with sadness.

The younger boy nodded, recalling how shortly after he'd arrived from the Colonies, the Qeynosian Settler's Aid Program had sent him into Oakmyst to investigate a recent rash of corruption that had begun to spread through the forest. While the corruption was devistating to the few small areas it touched, it had not been very bad at all, easily cleaned up and restored by the many hands working for the Aid Program. The fact that it had returned reinforced their findings, and the boy wondered if there were any gnolls about - they'd only found one when he was assisting the investigation.

"Do you want help?" he asked, watching Ilsael moving the branches of the shrubs delicately.

The older boy nodded as he gestured for Sukasa to peak into the boughs of the shrubs, dirty brown machinery visible, "That is what I have discovered, thus far."

Sukasa peered at the machine. It was similar to the ones his investigation team had found, but there were a lot more bits and pieces to it, and the boy realised that it must be a more advanced version of the machines he'd dealt with. He sighed, and it slowly dawned on him that if they began discovering and destroying vile things, their creators would only counter by making the next ones more advanced.

"Any help is welcome," Ilsael replied, watching the other boy closely.

Turning to look at Ilsael, the boy replied, "These are...different. They're better than their last attempt..."

"Yes," Ilsael nodded, breaking a few joints on the machine, causing it to halt before he turned. "Follow me."

Ilsael lead them back to the entrance area of the forest, speaking quietly to the current supervisor of the investigation. He handed the man a few bits of the broken parts, and the other man began explaining a few things the scouts had found while Ilsael had been looking for the machines. After a moment, the older boy nodded and glanced back to Sukasa.

"Sukasa, do you fear using your talent?" he asked gently as he stepped beside the other boy. Ilsael had never seen the boy cast a spell, but several times he'd felt the eletric energies or fiery warmths in the boy's hands, and had noticed that Sukasa's body was oddly cold; he suspected by his robes and the staff Sukasa carried that the boy was some type of mage, but they'd never talked about it.

The younger boy blink and asked, "Wh-what?"

For a moment, Ilsael contemplated the other boy before he shook his head and replied, "Follow me."

As they were heading to where Ilsael had been instructed to go, a large and angry Oakmyst bear trundled out from behind a tree, his claws swiping the older boy harshly. As the silvery elf began to call up healing energies, the bear struck out at him again; something inside of Sukasa clicked at seeing Ilsael being attacked, and the younger boy narrowed his eyes at the bear.

He lifted the stave up, the floating orb in its lotus setting glowing with an orange, red and yellow light, becoming almost like a living flame as thin strands of icy blue wrapped over it. Sukasa tapped the butt of the stave on the ground and then pointed the stave at the bear, his robes fluttering in a sudden wind as first a cascade of ice released on the beast followed by a large ball of fire - the bear shivered once before it was engulfed, falling to the ground dead before it could strike Ilsael again.

As the fires dulled, Ilsael turned to look back at the younger boy, his eyes burning blue from channeling his healing energies. The younger boy straightened, staring at Ilsael with unblinking eyes, his face riddled with concern for the other elf. Slowly, he lowered the staff, but would not let it touch the ground, the orb slowly fading back to its typical faint white light.

"A-are you okay?!" Sukasa asked, rushing over to Ilsael's side. The other boy simple looked at him and smiled, nodding slightly.

The two boys spent the rest of the afternoon tracking down several different gnolls, slowly working their way up the chain of command that had infiltrated the forest. Each time they battled, Sukasa would barely use any magic aside from a few plasma strikes unless the gnolls threatened Ilsael, and then he'd call forth the winds, rains, ice and fires.

Once the gnolls were dead or captured, the boys returned to Lieutenant Charlin. Ilsael and the Lieutenant spoke for several mintues before the man turned to the weapon rack behind him and presented Ilsael with a faintly glowing spear. The weapon had a bit of fur covering the top of the shaft, with feathers dangling down against it, its tip sharp and deadly, the weapon clearly imbued with some sort of minor power. Ilsael bowed in thanks to the officer, and then turned back to Sukasa with a smile.

"My efforts were not in vain," the beaming mystic said softly as he returned to the younger boy's side.

Without thinking, Sukasa asked, "Back ho - to Castleview then?"

He'd only been staying there a few days - since the night before confronting Corbin on the docks in Nektulos forest about Shadowthorn - but he felt more at home amid the meditation room Ilsael lived in than he did in his small apartment back in the Willow Wood. Blushing, he hoped Ilsael didn't catch what he had almost said.

Ilsael nodded, taking a step forward before pausing and looking back at Sukasa, "You..you will accompany me, yes?"

The young wizard nodded, moving beside the older elf quickly. The two of them walked up the path leading out of the forest, and through the gates into Castleview - side by side, smiling a little as their shoulders brushed against each other.



Sukasa slipped into the room, looking tired and beat up. He closed the door slowly, body sagging slightly. He turned, eyes going wide at seeing Ilsael stretched out on one of the many piles of pillows before he dropped them in almost emberassment - the wizard had almost hoped Ilsael'd be out, so he wouldn't have to explain...

The older boy raised his head from the pillows, just slightly, as he saw the other enter the room. He frowned at the condition of the other boy, shifting, and began pulling himself wearily to his feet.

"Kasa..." he said softly.

The boy stammered, "N-no. N-no need t-to get up..."

He sat his staff and pack aside, trying not to wince at the movements, and then slowly made his way over to the pillows, remaining standing. Ilsael gestured to Sukasa to join him, scooting a bit to make room on one pile of pillows. The aura of energy usually around him was faint, and exhausted it seemed. Hesitantly, Sukasa sat down beside Ilsael, trembling slightly and only making it half way down before dropping down hard onto the pillows, wincing and making a small noise. He kept his back away from Ilsael, facing the boy, his eyes still downcast.

Ilsael was not so easily fooled by the boy and took hold of him, gently, pulling him close as he ran his hand over the other boy's hair.. In soft motion, he drew from his own energy reserves, pushing them against the mage in hopes of healing his pain. The younger boy nearly screamed as his body was moved, collapsing against Ilsael's chest, twitching. His body tugged much hard than usual at the energies, something clearly amiss. Sukasa knew his love's energies were all but spent, and pulled away quickly, moving out from the energies.

"Kasa... something is wrong... please, let me help," Ilsael spoke softly, offering his hand once more, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

It seemed to pain him as much as it pained the other.

Sukasa stared at Ilsael, almost in tears, the other boy's expression of pain not helping him any.

He shook his head again, cringing, "I - no, you're s-so tired l-looking!"

"Do not worry for me, Sukasa. Please.. let me help you," Ilsael gently pressed.

He held out his hand again, and this time the blue energies surrounded his palm, curling up again like smoke... just behind Ilsael's shoulder seemed to be a very faint, very brief image of another boy. The younger boy's eyes widened, looking past Ilsael to the faint image, blinking once. He recoiled slightly, only to wince hard and look pained. Finally, he nodded, and slipped out of his robe. His back and sides were covered with bruises and lacerations where the blood had gathered too thickly and opened the skin, several smaller scrapes visible all over his body.

Ilsael removed his own robe, stripping bare, to hold to Sukasa as gently as possible. The energy seemed to flow along his skin, travelling him to meet with the younger boy. Ilsael's eyes grew brighter, a blue not often seen, as the healing power beginning to hum lightly...if Ilsael was pained by this, he showed no sign, grew warm and then cool again as energy passed from him to the other.

Sukasa leaned against Ilsael, crying though he was so quiet and so unchanged he did not notice. His body tugged at the energies, the wounds healing as the light danced through them, slowly causing the boy to relax again. Ilsael's skin appeared almost transluscent as it swam with the energy being pushed against Sukasa. His hand moved lightly, fingers trailing over the boy's hair, his voice a soft whisper... though seemed to echo..

"It's.. all right. You are here... you are.. all right.."

Kasa slowly nodded, the glyphs on his skin faintly glowing, his motor control slipping away from him. His eyes became unfocused, staring out past Ilsael's shoulder. His body drained in more energy than needed to heal the wounds, greedily taking the nurishing energies as his markings began locking his mind away again. The give of energy waned and then ceased once the task was complete, the blue glow fading and then disappearing all together. Ilsael's pale skin was cool to the touch, the brilliant blue dimming from his closed eyes. For a few very long moments, the older boy's body was entirely still.

The younger boy slumped unmoving against Ilsael's body, healed and almost more alive again. His body seemed healthier, almost as if it were well fed, though the glyphs upon his skin flickered widly, struggling to keep his mind and spirit seperated from his body. With Ilsael's power focused, it was clear to see what occurred whent he glyphs changed - above Sukasa's body was his spirit, eyes unseeing, staring out to watch something beyond them.

The mystic's body remained still, utterly motionless after the task performed. There was no hum of energy from the boy who lay next to the mage. His hair still shined silver in the pale light of the room, still beautiful in his silenced state. As time passed, the energies flickered and faded in the markings, Sukasa's eyes desperately trying to focus, his fumbling body trying to cling to Ilsael again. Panic took the boy as he felt how cold the boy was, as he slowly realised there was no energy.

As soon as he could speak properly, he half-whispered, "Ilsael?!"

The boy's lips parted, but there was neither breath nor sound. The blood was quickly cool beneath the skin as he rested on the pillows. For a moment, he had gone. Sukasa sat up clumsily, pulling Ilsael into his lap, eyes wide and afraid as he petted the older boy's face, cradling his body against him. He kept murmuring, begging Ilsael to respond to him, more tears falling unnoticed down his cheeks.

A faint blue line began to move down towards the mystic's body, seeming more like a strange firefly than anything else. It passed between the high elf's lips, settling in the core of the boy. A pulse began again, his lips trembling as he drew a sharp and sudden breath, his body arching slightly, senses numbed but slowly returning. He opened his eyes, unfocused, blinking, his body shivering from the warmth stolen... but he was alive. The boy sputtered and coughed with these painful breaths, not daring to sit up as his eyes closed again, flinching, as he slowly re-acquainted with his senses.

Kasa held the other boy tightly against his chest, fingers gently petting the long silver hair, running down his shoulder and arms to his hands several times as he whispered, "Damnit, Ilsael, I knew I shouldn't have let you..."

A long moment passed before Ilsael recognized the touch, his skin warming at it. He breathed softly, his blue eyes shining as he looked to the other, a faint smile passing his lips, ever serene.

"You needed... my attention. Please do not hate me for what I would give.. for you," the silver high elf barely whispered.

It slowly dawned upon Sukasa as to what just occured, the other boy staring in shock at Ilsael. He pulled the other boy closer, burying his head in Ilsael's neck and shoulder, tears wetting the warming skin.

His mind and heart reeled, thoughts racing quickly, leaving him only to stammer out, "D-d-don't l-l-eave m-me, p-please."

Ilsael's arms moved to wrap around the other, seeming stronger with the passing moments. It was will alone, at times, that his spirit continued to keep him as he was..his body had little strength of its own.

"I will not leave you... I am here, aren't I? Please... do not be sad. It has happened before... " Ilsael whispered.

Sukasa lifted his head, looking a little surprised, blinking once at Ilsael, hands still gently brushing over the other boy's skin.

"Wh-when?" the younger boy hesitantly asked.

"Many times... When I first began to cross into the spirit world... my spirit shattered. I had to return, many times, to retrieve the pieces," he paused, appearing thoughtful. "I will explain it better.... once I rest."

The confused younger boy nodded, awkwardly laying Ilsael back down on the pillows before sliding down beside him, pulling him close. He wished he were strong enough to let Ilsael rest against him, but the younger and malnurished body was just too frail for even a high elven boy's weight. He contented himself by snuggling Ilsael, fingers running through the other boy's hair until they both fell asleep.



The confrontation with Corbin had left Sukasa even more skittish than he already was; he knew he deserved it, however Corbin's abandonment - which would lead to Trecle's as well - nearly broke the little boy into pieces. Having Miriella explain to him exactly what he had done in his attempt to save Ilsael and keep Shelly's wayward henchmen from him did not help calm the boy any either, though he fought to hide that from here.

Whether or not it was true, Sukasa felt that he'd lost everything for Ilsael, but rather than feel bitter towards the Koada`dal, the boy was terrified he'd lose Ilsael next and be left with nothing again. The few times times the boys had been seperated for too long, the harder it was for him to focus and the more introverted he became - he knew that he'd rather die than lose Ilsael permanently.

Miriella had talked him into returning to Qeynos, but he didn't feel safe inside the city walls. While the dark elven woman was confident no one was going to try to kill him there, her words contradicted what Corbin had told him, and the Feir`dal feared someone would try.

Between his worry of losing Ilsael and his fear of being found, Sukasa went to South Qeynos and made an impulse purchase of a two bedroom estate with a spacious patio, using his probably fading position in the Windrunner Trading Company to negotiate a lower cost; between the prestige of the company and the woman's maternal instincts, he was able to buy a home for almost all the gold he possessed. Tucked away on Karana Court, it was difficult to see the doors and windows unless one was standing right near them on the Court road itself, which was perfect for a little boy who wanted nothing more than to run away and hide.

Over the next few hours, the boy and his horse - the mare that he swore hated him - moved all of Ilsael's belongings in a small cart to the new residence. It was an awkward move, as Sukasa wasn't nearly as big as Ilsael, and there were frequent disagreements with his stubborn horse. He spent the last of his gold on a few more household decorations and necessities, finding that while the meditation and sleeping set up filled Ilsael's small inn room in Castleview, they barely filled one room in their new house.

In the end, there was a sleeping area with two desks flanking it and a large meditation area upstairs, a bookcase on the landing of the stairs, a draconic tapestry on the long wall at the base of the stairs, a bar set up one one side of the downstairs room with bookcases on the other side and a draconic statue and rugs in the center. A second meditation area and garden were set up outside on the patio area, using the two smaller tents Ilsael had owned and half of his pillow collection.

The small feline spirit wandered around in a more Kerran form as the boy worked, doing her best to keep the Fountain Spirit out of the way - it had a nasty habit of manifesting at the wrong moment and almost being splatted by some piece of furniture the boy could barely move. Once everything was finished, the spirit became more feline and fell asleep on the bed while the dragonfly buzzed all over the back porch.

It was close to the time Ilsael would be finishing with his daily duties with the midwives in Willow Wood. Sukasa swore that the wood elves needed birthing more often than any other community in Qeynos, which only disturbed him because of his obvious descent; when he'd first noticed, the boy swore he'd never give any girl attention, because he didn't want to end up like the rest of his heritage - his close friendship with Shelly worried him for that reason, but Ilsael had assured him it takes a lot more than hugging someone for that to happen.

Keeping to the shadows like some theif, the boy made his way to the nearest Norrathian Express station and wrote Ilsael a letter, asking the other boy to meet him outside of the mage tower in South Qeynos. Before everything had happened, Sukasa used to study with the Concordium, but as events passed, he found himself less and less inclined to go deal with the narrow minded wizened wizards; he hadn't exactly told Ilsael that yet, so the Koada`dal believed that's where his little wood elf companion stayed while he worked.

A short time later, Ilsael arrived at the Concordium. Sukasa had half dozed off while waiting, the day catching up to him quickly. Already a little confused and concerned by his missing furniture, Ilsael cleared his throat quietly in hopes of getting the other boy's attention. Sukasa looked up at the other boy with a smile, though while his eyes reflected it, there was something else clouding behind it.

"Y-you got my l-letter?" he asked.

"I did," Ilsael replied, tilting his head to ponder Sukasa. He could feel something behind the playful air, but couldn't quite place his finger on it, his mind already caught up in the potential theft of his belongings and the strange request from Sukasa.

The smaller boy stood up and stepped towards the High Elf, asking, "D-do you trust me?"

Without pausing, though said quite slowly, Ilsael responded, "Yes..."

"Close your eyes," Sukasa said, searching through his many robe pockets for something.

Ilsael chuckled and closed his eyes as he was told to, amused by the odd game his little love had begun. The younger boy stood up on his toes to tie a strip of dark cloth over Ilsael's eyes, blindfolding the other boy to make sure he wouldn't be able to peek at his surroundings. With a little flourish, Sukasa spun the other boy around until he was sure the boy was dizzy and without any sense of direction.

"Where are we going?" Ilsael started to ask, ending the sentance with an odd 'nnf' noise as his senses were jarred. Sukasa just giggled at him, taking the taller boy's hand and gently leading him away from the Mages' tower.

At a rather awkward pace, the young boy led the other elf through the gates to Qeynos Harbor, and along the main roads to Elddar Grove. Once inside the grove, they walked nearly every pathway Sukasa could find before he finally led the blind Islael back to the Harbor, then on into South Qeynos again. Eventually, the two were walking slowly down Karana Court, Ilsael entirely lost and confused by then.

"Are we there yet?" the mystic asked, a little worried that somehow Sukasa had lead him to Freeport or worse.

"Almost!" the other boy replied as they took their last few steps towards their new house. "N-no peeking!"

Sukasa stopped them in front of the door, releasing Ilsael's hand so he could dig through his robe pockets for the keys. Finally, with a faint jangle of metal, the boy pulled them out and slipped one into the lock with a satisfying turning of the lock. Carefully, he tucked the keys away again and took Ilsael's hand, leading the other boy inside a few feet so he could close the door behind them. With the door closed to outside noise and passerby conversations, it would be impossible for the blind boy to know where they were.

Once the door was closed, the smaller elf untied the blindfold, pulling it away from Ilsael's eyes slowly.

"S-surprise," he stammered.

Ilsael blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the lights again, considering there were few lights beyond wall candles, it did not take the boy too long to see his surroudings. Some things were familiar, some things entirely new - what the older boy did know was that he was standing in someplace far more elegant than he was used to. The younger boy stood beside him, looking up expectantly, half afraid that the other boy would be uspet by what he had done for them.



"I - I g-got this f-for us..." he stammered when Ilsael remained silent.

The boy's statement pulled Ilsael's attention from the beautiful room he was standing in, and he realised that the younger boy had bought a home...a real home for them. Ilsael turned his wide eyes to Sukasa, staring at the small elf in surprise, knowing that their commitment had just become much more tangible than it had been before.

"I... Kasa.. this is.. I mean, it's gorgeous," the high elf replied, oddly at a loss for words. The boy could only smile at the other elf, his eyes drifting from Sukasa to the room itself and back.

"I - you d-deserved better th-than a sm-mall room in C-castleview," Sukasa quickly explained, his worry starting to surface again, "I - I saved up. I h-had nothing else to b-buy. And...well, th-the company is w-well known enough, th-they cut us deals."



"It's..." Ilsael began, unable to find his words, stopping to just smile down at the smaller elf in awe.

With that, Sukasa took Ilsael's arm and pulled him through the room to the door on the other side, opening it to reveal their meditation patio and garden. Ilsael wandered almost dream-like through the area, drifting around the area with a beautiful smile and sparkling eyes. The Fountain Spirit that had taken residence with them fluttered over to the high elf, circling him in contentment before flitting off to the flowers that had been transplanted from their old home.



"An-nd there's m-more..." the little wood elf said, taking Ilsael by the arm and pulling him back inside.

The boys rushed up the stairs, pausing on the landing so that he could show Ilsael where the books were, and let the boy see the new tapestry Sukasa had bought. Once the other boy was able to move again, Sukasa pulled him up the last flight of stairs and threw open the double doors, stepping quickly into the room as he let go of Ilsael's arm.



Standing on a Halasian bear skin rug at the foot of their bed, Sukasa proudly said, "T-this is our n-new room..."

For a moment, Ilsael could only stand in place, his eyes moving all around the room to take in the new yet familiar surroundings. Most of the things in the room were his, but there were rugs he didn't remember, desks and scrolls he didn't remember, and odd candles he had never seen before on either side of their bed. The young mystic realised that yes, his belongings had been taken, but not by any real theif - Sukasa had to have skipped his studies to move them here.



"That would explain where all of the furniture went," Ilsael finally said, chuckling lightly.

Sukasa paused and awkwardly said, "I...um, pr-procured it. Do you l-like it?"

With a gently smile, Ilsael nodded to the other boy, taking a step towards him, "I do."



Sukasa smiled brightly to the other boy, letting go of a slightly held breath as he relaxed a little. The smile touched his eyes slightly, but an unsettled fear drifted behind them. Caught up by his emotions, Ilsael barely noticed as he took the smaller elf into his arms, kissing the boy fiercely, every word he couldn't find making its way into the embrace.

Caught by surprise, the younger boy clung to Ilsael, each little passionate movement making him more and more aware of exactly why he couldn't lose Ilsael like he had everyone else. At first, he threw his raw nervousness into returning the affection the older boy showered upon him, but as the passion intensified, Sukasa found he could do nothing more than cry.

The splash of tears against his skin jarred Ilsael from his advances, and the mystic looked down at the boy he held in his arms. Reflexively, he gently ran his fingers through Sukasa's hair, pushing it away from the boy's eyes; at first, it seemed the younger boy had been incapable of crying, however as the weeks passed, Ilsael found that his little love cried more and more - more than he should cry.

Whispering soothing words in Koada`dal - an odd expression the boys had started recently - Ilsael pet Sukasa until the younger elf was ready to speak of what was bothering him so.

Sukasa could only cry for quite some time, pulling Ilsael tightly against him. The affection had broken through the last of the barriers he'd put up to hide from Ilsael, hide from his fear, and the boy was terrified he'd lose the one he was trying so hard to protect.

When he finally could speak, he whimpered, "I - I'm af-fraid I'm g-going t-to l-l-lose y-you t-too...", and buried his face against the older boy's shoulder.

Ilsael ran his slender fingers through the younger boy's hair, his expression worried as he studied Sukasa. When he spoke, it was soft and lilting, full of concern.

"Why do you think you will lose me, Sukasa?"

"B-because I'v-ve l-lost ev-veryone else," he whimpered, keeping his face against the other boy's shoulder, trying to hide in his silvery hair. "I'm af-fraid th-that I-I'll l-lose you t-too."

His crying seemed to begin to drown out his words, whimpered whispers of how he couldn't, how he'd rather be dead if he did, all hard to hear amid the sobs.

"My sweet, sweet love," Ilsael said softly, the older boy gently holding the other, uncaring of the tears that dampened him. He moved to tilt Kasa's chin upwards, his fingers brushing slowly across the boy's cheek to wipe away tears.

"Look inside of you, Sukasa. You carry part of me, something I trust to no one but you. I will not leave you... but I am concerned as to why you think you will lose me," the older elf whispered, "Tell me, what has happened for you to think this way? Truly, what has happened?"

For a long moment, the younger boy didn't say anything as he considered what all to tell him. He knew that telling Ilsael everything would endanger the boy, but he felt horrible about having to hide everything. Corbin's words rang in his ears, and like he had told Miriella, he didn't want to talk about it anymore - didn't want to betray anyone else.

But...not telling Ilsael was a betrayal in itself. Nuzzling against the other boy, he argued with himself for a long time before answering.

"I - I f-found out a s-secret, an-nd t-tried to find out m-more," the younger boy managed, "B-but in th-the end, I w-was t-told more th-than I should b-by s-someone."

He quited again before whispering, "I - I had t-to give s-some of th-that s-secret up t-to keep Ch-chath away f-from you, an-nd to k-keep Sh-shelly safe. An-nd n-now I d-don't have an-nyone else."

"Were you asked to keep this secret that you told?" Ilsael paused a moment. He had never lectured Sukasa before. He felt it wrong to begin now, when he wasn't sure still of the situation.

"Sukasa... I am.. " he paused, struggling for his words. "I know you wished them to leave me be. I... am glad, for this. But it is obvious the decision you made also upsets you... "

He began to push his fingers through Sukasa's hair, his head tilted slightly as he said, "Though we cannot change our decisions, you can determine what outcome this will have, by making other decisions to follow."

The boy nodded in answer to the first question, looking quite guilty about the situation. He listened to Ilsael's words and then nodded again, though he was unsure of what to do.

"I - I w-was g-going to h-hide, a-after t-telling Shelly t-to n-not act on wh-what I told her," he whispered into Ilsael's ear, quickly adding, "I w-would be w-with you ev-very n-night b-but I - I thought-t it b-better f-for everyone el-lse for me t-to n-not be h-here."

With that, the boy nuzzled against Ilsael more, pulling him tighter against him. Part of him did want to leave, and dispite Miriella's claim others aside from Ilsael would worry, he didn't think anyone else would care.

"I wish you would stay... It is lonely, when you are gone." The older boy's voice sounded hollow, and he cast his eyes downward for a moment.

Finally, Ilsael lifted his voice again and asked, "And what of your brother? Please, Sukasa... whatever has been said I'm sure is forgiveable."

To that, the younger boy shook his head almost violently, tears sliding down his cheeks faster. He turned his head, burying it in Ilsael's shoulder again before whimpering, "N-no, its n-not...it w-was his s-secret an-nd n-now..."

He choked on his own words, his sentence trailing off into sobs. Corbin's words again rang through his head, and the boy felt too guilty and to sad to even speak.

"Shhh, shh... it's all right.." Ilsael spoke, but within his heart ached for the younger boy. Ilsael did not wish to pry, but felt helpless knowing so little about what had occurred. Perhaps it was best, then, to let Sukasa tell him on his own time.

Ilsael was a very patient and forgiving person, by nature. He would certainly not force his beloved to speak about something that pained him so greatly. The older boy planted soft kisses along Sukasa's cheeks and forehead, his arms keeping the younger elf close.

After a moment or two, the gentle touches calmed the boy enough for him to whisper, "Wh-what should I d-do? A l-lot of p-people c-could die ov-ver what I've d-done..."

He again thought of Corbin, the way the man had acted like it was time for him to die, seeming to accept it as the result of Sukasa's mistake; he recalled Miriella in tears, begging him to make sure Shelly would keep away from her son.

"I - I d-didn't th-think it w-would h-hurt an-nyone," he whimpred, "I th-thought it c-could k-keep people s-safe..."

"Sukasa...have you ever had to keep a secret?" he paused, and continued. "Secrets are kept to protect a person, or a group of people. Sometimes, this is small things.Sometimes, it is larger. Secrets are never meant to be told, except by the person who created them... if that makes sense."

Ilsael softened, "There will be a solution, another way. You have to trust me on this. If others have cast you aside for this, then there will be a way to redeem yourself... "

The boy nodded slightly, then shook his head. He wasn't quite sure what to think of secrets, having decided that the one he overheard and the one he was later told weren't like normal secrets. He nuzzled against Ilsael, sighing slightly as the last of his sobbing faded.

He closed his eyes, listening to Ilsael's heartbeat before whispering, "I - I w-won't leave, I d-don't think. B-but I'm s-still n-not g-going n-near p-people."

A slow smile crept to Ilsael, at the last statement. "That is fine... for happiness, the company of many is not needed. I.. would rather enjoy some time with just you... if you would like..."

He trailed off. It was a selfish request, but Ilsael felt such need of the other. He wanted badly to shut off the world around them, even briefly, to allow them time together; recently their world had seemed to have been turned upside-down, its effects taking their toll on both boys.

Sukasa nodded, eyes heavy as the exhaustion of releasing all the emotions he'd been trapping inside of him washed over his body. He nuzzled against Ilsael, eyes half-lidded as he looked around their new surroundings.

"I - I'll s-stay here w-with you, f-for now," he whispered.

Ilsael's smile seemed wistful, his eyes reflecting his brief sadness as he repeated, softly. "For now, then..."

Story: The Forgotten

Large, wide violet-blue eyes stared out into the space before them, unfocused and unseeing of what was really around them; these eyes looked back into the past, a memory caught up in a nightmare daydream. With each passing moment, the eyes grew wider with fear and shame, tears slowly building up within them.


Bone white hair hung loosely down to thin shoulders, long strands hung over large violet-blue eyes that were set into a delicate face. It had been almost impossible to tell if the child were male or female when one looked only at these features, it was only when the child was entirely naked that one could finally know the child was in fact a boy.

He had huddled in the corner of his room, clad only in a dirty tunic, eyes wide with fear. His large, strong father was shouting at him, cursing his angelic beauty with words the boy barely understood - all he truly understood was that his father was angry again.

Whenever his father was angry, all the boy knew was pain.

It wasn't long before the large man reached down and grasp the boy by his arms, hauling him up even as the child gave a small sound of terror. As he continued his curses, the man shook his son violently, making it hard for the boy to breath which caused him to cough; with a roar, his father threw him across the room, and the boy hit the stone wall and felt the first burst of pain as a large bruise exploded down his arm and side.

Disoriented, the boy slumped to the ground, but before he could get his bearings, his father reached down and pulled him up by the back of his neck. Reflexively, his legs kicked as his feet left the ground, earning him another violent throw against the side of his bed. He hit the edge of his bed with his stomache, the wind knocked out of him before his father's heavy hand fell against his backside.

"I'm not here," he thought desperately, "I'm not here, this isn't happening!"

With each blow to his back that his father dealth, the child chanted the same mantra over and over in his mind until he no longer felt the painful strikes; he'd retreated into his mind, imagining a bright city made of white stones and magic, surrounded by unending seas of green grass.

One of the coercers his father had rented him out to had taught him how to do that, though he was so young it was difficult for him to do so quickly. Unlike the other women of society his father had sent him to, this one had not caressed his body or forced him to caress theirs, instead she had told him a secret that he held to dearly.

Though his mind was elsewhere, the boy's body spasmed with each strike, deep violet bruises exploding and deepening all over his back. His frightened, unfocused eyes cried tears that stained his pale cheeks, his voice a ragged scream between labored breaths - none of it affects his father, the man only stopping once his rage is spent.

Straightening his tunic, the man stormed out of the room, leaving the boy to cry himself to sleep.


Tears rolled down the young boy's cheeks, streaking over the orange and purple markings tattooed to his light skin. His eyes were still large, still distant as he stared out over the waters surrounding the Queen's Colonies - lost in haunted daydreams.



The young boy never slept well - his body was always tense, thin fingers gripping the fabric of the sheets, small sounds of fear and anxiety escaping his lips. His body would be cold, so cold, but he'd be covered in a fine sheen of sweat...

...he knew nothing but nightmares in the darkness...


Over the months, the beatings became more focused as his father discovered that the women of Freeport, despite their sadistic natures, were not inclined to purchase the use of a pretty boy covered in bruises. The man focused his rage only on the child's back, using mostly a lash though he still could never let go of his rage until his bare hands pummeled the child's flesh.

There were many times the boy used the trick he'd been taught - during the beatings, during the sessions with the woman who would fondle him while fondling themselves, at night when the darkness threatened to swallow him whole. As the months slipped into years, the boy spent less and less time in the harsh reality around him, choosing to instead escape to the beautiful place the coercer had created for him.

His life continued in such a manner until his tenth birthday, and then everything changed.

The coercer visited his father, as many women of society did, and arranged for a night with the boy; it would be his birthday, though his father had long forgotten that. The arrangements were made, half of the final agreed upon price paid, and one of the coercer's maids arrived on the appointed date to dress the child.

The woman brought him a fine, handspun cream silk tunic and loose grey satin pants. The shirt was a little too big for him, but she used dark chocolate brown scarves to adjust it before fitting him into a pair of black boots and fine grey gloves. The final addition was a finely crafted hat and cloak.

She took his hand, and led him through the streets of Freeport. He didn't realise she was the coercer's servant, and had already drifted off into the trace he practically lived in. The woman looked down at him with concern, knowing the look in his eyes all too well. Knowing the child's mind was elsewhere, the woman slowly dropped her illusion, becoming a small, young Kerran girl with patchy fur.

The boy wasn't aware of the world around him, but when he was sat down upon a hard wooden stool, he slowly came back from the place within his mind. Looking around, he recognised the music room - the last time he'd been here, he and the coercer had spent most of their time here; she'd taught him his secret here.

"I'm glad you could join me, Sukasa," a feminine voice echoing around the room.

He looked around the room for the coercer when he recognised her voice, but it had been much quieter years ago, at least he remembered it being such. She only allowed him a moment to search before continuing.

"I will free you from your pain, so long as you stay here, with me," her voice resonated, sounding foreign and ethereal. "We will be happy together, just the two of us, without anyone else."

The boy listened to her words, pushing the hat off of his head as he brushed the long white hair out of his eyes. He strained to hear where her voice was coming from, afraid that he was dreaming again, that he would wake up in the arms of another vile woman his father sold him to for a night.

"Are you - is this for real?" he asked, standing to look around the room again, his arms lifting up almost defensively.

A dark, quiet laughter drifted through the room, its amusement clear as day to the young boy. It seemed to come from everywhere, moving around the room in a circle as it filled the air. He spun around slowly, watching everything in case the coercer showed herself.

"Yes, Sukasa. This is very real. I am offering you exactly what you want, as long as you remain with me," she echoed.

Wide eyed with anxiety, the boy finally nodded his consent to her.

"So be it," she shouted.

Energies erupted above him, pouring down over his small form as they lifted his feet from the ground. The light was so hot, it felt like it was burning him away to nothing, almost as if it was rending his flesh from his body then melting his bones away. His screams echoed through the entire estate as the energies washed over his form, stripping the clothing away from him as it stripped him of everything he knew about the world.

Cringing in the corner, behind the piano, the small Kerran girl watched as the boy was caught up in her Mistress' power. His echoing, unnatural scream terrified her - her Mistress hadn't told her this would happen, she only said that she would save him from his father.

She didn't know her mouth was open, silently echoing his screams.


In his sleep, the boy's body tensed to an extreme, shaking violently as his small hands ripped a the fabrics until his knuckles were pure white. His whimpering turned to crying, tears falling down his marked cheeks like a violent rainstorm.



He'd gone out to the cliffside, this time alone, hoping that his friend wouldn't somehow find him. The boy's mind was filled with confusion - recent events, nightmares, things people in taverns were saying - everything was just adding up and he finally couldn't take it anymore. He had to get away to just think.

Unfortunately, his mind had a hard time focusing on things for too long, always retreating away from the world and his problems...always inviting in the waking nightmares. His violet-blue eyes slowly unfocused, widening as things played out in his mind.


The room was circular, made of the typical dark grey granite that most places in Freeport were made of. This room was far below a circular tower, deep in the earth where there was nothing but muffled silence; no one could find him here, as illusions and chicanery covered the doorway leading to this place. He was left entirely alone in the dark cold, becoming pale and emaciated as the weeks passed...but he didn't know that.

In his mind, the boy was in a lush, green field filled with prismatic rainbows that gently filtered down from the azure blue skies. The field stretched all the way to the edge of a clifface, where sandstone rock watched over rolling azure blue seas. Off in the distance was a white, glimmering castle, but for some reason, the boy wished to just stay in the field or on the cliffside.

It didn't take long for the boy to loose track of the days. He never slept, only drifted slightly for a few sparse hours after many hours of wakefulness; he played for hours at a time, dancing with the rainbows or practicing his spells or finding new ones. Sometimes, a little Kerran girl would come dance with him, or a small calico cat would curl up with him in his few hours of drifting.

He wouldn't question his life for a very long time...

Outside of the boy's mind, his body hung suspended in the air, arms extended out to their sides, feet dangling in the empty space between himself and the floor; he was mostly naked, a pair of ragged pants covering most of his hips and legs. His body was experimented on though largely his mind was experimented upon as well. The little Kerran girl had been tasked by her Mistress to monitor the boy and run several of the experiments that didn't require the coercer's power. Sometimes the mysterious dark elven woman would attend to them herself, but not often enough for the Kerran's liking.

Several of the experiments involved various potions, spells or charms of immortality on the boy while others were more attempts to alter his appearance. One experiment early on created a humunculus of the child, which was used to convince his father that the child had been in a terrible accident and was now an invalid that needed to be researched by the Academy of Arcane Sciences. This left the child somewhat...smaller than before, his bone structure even more delicate than before.

Several years later, the Kerran girl was carefully tattooing deep orange and purple markings on the boy's skin with an enchanted ink. It was supposed to keep him locked away in his mind withouth the use of the extravagent wards and statues, but as the Kerra finished the last marking, the boy's violet-blue eyes slowly opened.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, neither blinking. The boy shivered in the cold, feeling the real world for the first time in nearly two and a half years. It startled the Kerra, and she quickly looked around the room; her mistress was gone but she never could quite believe that she wasn't being watched.

The boy slowly dropped to the ground, and the nervous Kerra motioned for him to follow her. They walked up the long, spiralling stone stairs until they found themselves at the top - a wall greeted them, cold and unmoving. Without hesitation, the Kerra kept walking, vanishing into the wall while the boy paused to stare in shock. After a moment, the Kerra slipped half way back through the wall, and pulled the boy through.

Several times, the boy tried to speak, only to find himself frustratingly silent. The feline merely sighed and shook her head, leading him through several elaborate rooms until she finally stopped before some sort of wardrobe, opening its doors. While the boy stared wide eyed at all the clothing, the Kerra pawed through several different fabrics before pulling out a white thick silk robe with gold trim, holding it out to the boy.

Once he was dressed, the Kerra pointed towards the door, knowing his questions that he couldn't ask her verbally. Hesitantly, the boy took a step forward and turned back to the Kerran girl, hand extending out in a silent gesture, asking her to come with him.

The girl just shook her head and backed away, vanishing through another doorway. After a long, silent moment, the boy continued walking, slipping out the large doors once he finally reached them...


At first, the boy had been shaking in terror, his body tense and clammy again. As the nightmare danced past him, leaving just him and the Kerra together and them him alone, he finally released his iron grip from his staff. Eventually, his eyes focused on the water again, and once more his mind thought of his friend and the strange woman who had unsettled them...



He stared at the fire in the hearth, eyes glossy and distant. It was late in the Mythic, so late he was alone save for the bartender and a single waitress, and neither noticed his faint shaking, his light sheen of sweat.


The streets were dirty, covered with a fine layer of dirt and sand, worn by time and the elements, grey and black with time and evil. The houses loomed over the small boy, like learing monsters, tall and jagged against the black stormy skies; he didn't know where he was, only that he felt...afraid.

Several times, burly guards passed him, glaring down at the boy as if he didn't belong there. Each time, the boy stared at them without blinking before turning and running away, the men just laughing at him roughly. Everything was so much bigger, so much...darker than he was - the young and pale Feir'dal clad in white was entirely out of place.

From the shadows of an alleyway, a ratonga with sharp features slipped into the boy's path, looking at the child with a toothy, cold grin. He held two long, sharp daggers of fine quality, snicking them together once for show, sparks erupting from the motion. The boy startled back, arm raising defensively between himself and the ratonga.

"Looksies what's I's found," he chittered, "Pretty lil' girlie-girl, she'll pad me purses well, won't she's!"

The child turned to run, only to find the ratonga there before him again. Frightened, the child screamed and tried to run again, each time faced with the same ratonga's sinister grin. The ratonga enjoyed this game, letting the boy run several times before lunging for him.

Before the rat could lash his blade across the child's flesh, lightning arched across the metal towards the ratonga's hand, causing him to drop the blade as his fur nearly caught fire. The child fell backward away from him, hands before his face to block his eyes from the flashing light.

Another bolt struck the ratonga, and chittering a stream of curses, the rat retreated back into the alley; after a moment, a pathetic squeaking squeal was heard from the darkness.

It took several more minutes for the boy to lower both his arms and stand again, peering towards the darkness for a moment, turning to look for someone that could have controlled the lightning.

"Sukasa, you've been very bad," her voice echoed through the night, piercing his thoughts, causing him to curl up in fear again. "What did I tell you? Do you remember...that I will take away your pain if you remain with me?"

From the stairs beside him, the little Kerran girl appeared, sighing gently as she watched him. She took a step forward only to have a cold bolt strike near her paws, forcing her to stop. Frowning, she looked back at the boy, eyes angry and sad all at once.

When the boy did not answer, energies erupted above him, washing down over him entirely. His body and soul afire once again, the boy screamed and writhed as he was lifted off the pavement, back arching from tensing muscles, arms stretching backward slightly with them. The fine robe ripped away from his skin, evaporating before it fell far, his hair falling from its bindings to dance on the vorpal winds.

The Kerra stared up in horror at the boy, watching his body being ripped into light and shadow, almost crystalline. Her mouth moved, screaming silent words that would have been lost in his scream anyways.

Finally, the energies dissipated and the boy's spent body drifted downward, the tattooed markings still glowing brightly against his pale skin. The Kerran girl stepped forward, catching him in her arms as she grew slightly larger, her brow knitting in concern.

Her mistress faded from them, leaving her to carry him back to his physicall hell. Instead, for a very long moment, the feline simply cradled the broken boy in her arms, crying silently.


His mouth was open, echoing the silent crying as his body shook. The waitress stood over him, concerned by his behavior, finally calling the bartender over. The man gently picked the boy up, the child's body going mostly limp aside from his iron grip on his strange orbed stave...



The silver-haired Koada'dal boy startled awake as the younger Feir'dal in his arms began shaking and whimpering in his sleep. The younger boy held tightly to him, one hand gripping the high elf's shoulder while the other tangled and clawed at the fabric of the pillows beneath them. Gently, the older boy tried to wake the whimpering elf, eventually giving up and holding the boy, his fingers running through the white mess of hair in hopes to calm him...


Shortly after his thirteenth birthday, the last of the immortality experiments finished, and all that could be done is wait and watch for signs of physical aging. Since the last phase began, the dark elven coercer had spent hours each day down in the cold stone room, ordering the little Kerran girl around while taking mental notes of every step.

With a delicate motion, the enchantress caused the boy's head to lift up, a cruel smile painting her lips as she stared into the wide, unfocused violet-blue eyes. Still staring, eyes glittering with madness, she laughed darkly.

"We will begin to work on his soul next," she intoned, her voice echoing around the room. "Your talents shall prove useful, finally."

The Kerran girl opened her mouth in silent protest, stumbling backward and away from the coercer in horror. Before the dark elf had stolen her, the child had been a promising mystic among the Kerran communities just outside of Qeynos, but this was the first time the enchantress suggested such perversions.

A lash of dark energy whipped across the girl's fur, burning a black mark into her shoulder before it lashed back across the top of her chest and collar bones. Unable to make a sound, her mouth opened in a silent scream, and in fear she nodded begrudged consent to her mistress.

Days passed as the Kerra was forced to share the secrets of spirits and the power of the soul with her mistress, the dark enchantress noting everything before she began formulating her own theories and experiments for the boy's soul. She would tell the feline girl everything, delighting in the expressions of horror that crossed the child's face, explaining her ultimate desire was not only to be able to control and shape the mind, but do so to a degree that altered the soul.

The days slipped into weeks as her mistress constructed her theories, and the Kerra girl was dismissed to monitor the changes in the boy's physical body. She found him still hanging mid-air upon the wells of energy and magic, eyes open but unseeing; in the past three years, the boy had been nurished and kept alive by her healing magics, unable to eat or drink due to the state of his mind - now he was nothing more than skin and bones, painfully thin and so easily broken.

In an attempt to help him, the Kerran had tried to change his body with her healing spells, so that it would no longer need food or drink, so that it better accepted the power of her regenerative magicks. She never was quite sure exactly what it had done, but for a short time afterward, he seemed to gain a little weight.

Over the next few months, the girl noted that the boy did not change physically at all anymore - he remained the same weight, the same height with the same features and physique. Frantic at the idea of her mistress' immortality theories working, the girl began to ever so slightly lie in her notes, using a little make up to give the boy slight lines of age.

It took nearly a year and a half for the coercer to finish her theories and notations, her perfectionist nature taking over and causing her to obsessively revise and refine her thoughts and techniques. The Kerran was startled to finally see her mistress enter the chamber, blinking at the dark elf as if she were a ghost.

"It is time," the enchantress hissed, quickly imprinting into the girl's mind exactly what she would be doing during the initial phase of this new experiment. The coercer demanded the girl's cooperation, her power turning the Kerra into a puppet.

Horrified as her body began to work against her, the girl stared out from the mental cage at what was happening, screaming silently in protest.

Her body had begun to call up the powers of the Umbra, the room darkening despite the flow of energy surrounding the boy. Howling ancestral spirits encircled him, his own spirit turning dark as she called it forth, forcing his soul to the forefront of his being. Once manifested, the dark enchantress began her own ritual, the dark prismatic energies flooding over the boy's body and soul.

The boy - his body and his soul - screamed in unison as the energies washed over him, the howl ripping through the Umbra as it echoed through the stone room. The energies burned across his body and soul, searing away anything familiar, stripping away the first few layers of his soul and the last few layers of his memory.

After what seemed like an eternity, the energies receeded and the boy's soul slowly retreated back behind the veil of his body, blazing white streaked with burned black. The boy's body remained arched for another moment before falling back against the supporting energies, going limp once more as it hung suspended.

The dark enchantress released her hold over the Kerran girl as she retreated from the chamber, and the small child slumped to the ground below the boy's feet, shocked and drained by the event. They were left together in silence and pain...


Beneath the gentle hand of the silvery high elf, the Feir'dal boy slowly stopped whimpering and shaking, his fierce grip relaxing as he was soothed away from his nightmares. The older boy sighed in relief as the other elf began to fall limp against his chest, holding him closer as he continued to run his fingers through the long white hair...



The boy ran as fast as he could, his heart feeling as if it would explode. His head swam with emotions - anger, sadness, fear; he didn't know what the truth was just yet, but the world was darker than it had been a few hours before.

He reached the level that the Bed and Book Inn was on, dropping down to the edge of the pool outside. His entire being burned from the physical and emotional stresses. The sound of the water falling rang out in his ears, becoming sharper as he became unfocused, his eyes staring off into...

The Kerra girl slumped to the ground, her energies twisted from her, leaving her weak and light headed. She'd almost lost track of time, only occassionally having enough unspent energies to sort through her mistress' notes for some clue as to what was occuring.

"Record any changes," the dark enchantress entoned. "I will be away for a short time, attending to the wishes of the Overlord."

A day later, the Kerran was sifting through the pages her mistress kept, several times having to leave them upon the desk, her stomach heaving at what she read; the things she'd done sickened her, despite knowing she had no choice. It took almost a full day and half the next to read through every last note, serveral hours lost to her stomach and several more to monitoring the pale boy, the Kerra writing notes filled with half-truth's about the changes.

To her horror, she found this was not the first time she'd be used for something like this.

In the stark hours of dawn the day her mistress was to return, the Kerra girl finally snapped, setting down the papers for a moment before gathering them up. She carried them away from the desk, over to the fireplace, staring into the flames angrily before tossing the papers into them, watching as the fire licked over the dry partchment hungrily.

She finally allowed a small measure of panic to take hold, as she realised what she had just done; within a moment, she was running down the hallway to the long closets, gathering up several dresses and robes, shoving them into a pack, keeping only one robe out. She pulled on the wide-brimmed hat her mistress had taken away from her as she raced down the stairs to the chamber, slinging the pack onto her back, folding the robe over her arm.

With all of her might, she unleashed a howling stream of Umbral energy, disrupting the complex patterns that suspended the boy in the air. The totems she'd been forced to set crumbled, knocking into the coercer's little statues, and as the energies receeded, the boy floated to the ground. Ending the stream, the little Kerran ran to him, catching him as his body touched the floor.

The markings on the boy's body glowed brightly, but without energy to sustain them, they slowly began to fade, his eyes opening and trying to focus on the Kerra. He tried to speak, an odd cracked noise coming from his lips until the girl placed her paw on his mouth, quieting him. After a few minutes, she helped him stand, pushing the robe into his hands.

It had been one of her Mistress' favourite robes, a white fine fabric that danced with shimmering reflections of blue flame, trimmed with golden thread. The boy pulled it on quickly, the Kerra frantically motioning for him to hurry.

Together, they ran up the spiralling stone stairs that lead out of the chamber, the boy leaning heavily upon the Kerra who was some how tall enough. She lead them through the house, recalling the last time she'd tried to help him escape, hoping that they'd make it away from Freeport in time.

The two slipped out of the grand oak doors, stumbling down off the porch and then through the streets of South Freeport, making their way for the docks to the East and the safety of the Thundering Steppes beyond.

Shadow loomed over them as they rounded the last corner before the gates to East Freeport, lightning splitting the skies above as yet another storm threatened to break; The rain seemed more and more frequent as they years passed, almost daily now.

"Where do you think you're going?!" her voice intoned, echoing off the walls, threatening to drown the two children.

They haulted, the dark coercer standing a few feet in front of them, her eyes wild with anger. She looked down at the Kerra girl, realising the betrayal, and growled deeply before extending her hand - energy lept from her fingertips, racing through the air towards the boy.

He fell to the ground, large violet-blue eyes looking upward, his chest hurting from the pressure of...

Lifted into the air, body arching at the energies coursing through her, the Kerra girl's mouth hung open in a silent scream as her body was ripped apart by the chaotic energies. The boy screamed as well, his own voice horse and cracking as he watched the girl torn into nothing, the dark elf surprised at who was locked within her spell...


The boy was torn from his thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice, questioning if he was alright. Slowly, the boy turned his head to look at the Froglok that worked for the Company, his eyes focusing upon the simple Guktan as his dark memories evaporated once more...



"...would you be interested in seeing something?" the silver-haired boy asked quietly?

The boy instantly nodded, curious and surprisingly trusting of the older boy.

"O-of course."

The silvery elf smiled and kissed the other's cheek, stepping back slowly. Carefully, he turned, his back to the other as he stood, planting his feet carefully on the floor, his arms spreading as his fingers moved, his eyes closing with some focus. Carefully he began to turn, his arms swooping down and then up again, turning on the balls of his feet in a small dance. The energies began to glow faintly around him as he seemed to lay them down on the ground as he danced, the robes of his flowing around him gracefully. He appeared almost like a ghost himself, with the easy movement. The circle of blue energies became easier to see, the tendrils of the glow curling like smoke along the floor. When his dance finally ceased, he stood in the center of the small ring of energy, feet firmly planted, as he offered his hand out, the air almost singing with the energies.

"Do not be frightened. Come."

The younger boy paused only for a second before reaching out for the other elf's hand, walking forward. The boy slipped his smaller hand into the older boy's, shivering from the energies, his body and mind seeming to react, feeling much like an adrenaline rush.

"Do not worry.. I control these. It is part of myself. My energies, extended out. This particular circle.. is a healing circle." He explained the situation as gently as he could, though the energies still flickering at his fingertips sent tingles through the other boy's hand. "In this circle, your wounds will heal faster, if you have any. If you are weary, it may bring back some strength... I will not keep this one long, but.. I wanted you to see."

The boy nodded, his whole body tingling, his hand holding tightly to the older boy's, head dizzy from the energies. He stared up at the silvery elf, eyes drifting to half-closed, the other boy's presense overwhelmingly beautiful. His mouth was open, as if to say something, but he didn't have any words for it.

His body pulled at the energies, softly at first and then more demandingly. His normal pale, almost drained physique changed as it took in more energy, seeming more normal - more alive. The markings along his skin seemed to shift slightly, a faint glow coming to them.

The older elf drew a sharp breath at th boy's reaction to the energies, and instinctively, he began to pour a bit more of himself into the circle. He kept his reserves, however, unsure of how much the boy would take from him. The glowing edges of the circle began to close in, washing over the boy's form gently as the silvery boy instructed, waiting, watching.

As more energy poured into him, the younger boy's eyes became distant, unfocused, his body relaxing and swaying. The more energy given, the more his body demanded, though it was not malicious. The markings flickered again, glowing brighter as more energy was given, almost reactive to the changes in the boy's body. But...the more alive his body became, the more distant and unfocused his eyes became, the more he swayed, his grip on the older boy's hand fading...

Still muttering to herself, the ghost girl - more Kerra than feline - walked back through the wall, glaring back at the room behind her. She turned, looking at the present, eyes going wide as her mouth opened to scream, no sound coming from it...


The last of the Kerra girl's body was ripped into nothing by the chaos, the enchantress' energies retreating back into her fingertips as the boy screamed; a pale blue energy remaind hovering for just a moment before vanishing. With a wicked smile, the dark elf let the reality of what had occurred sink into the boy's mind, delighting in his suffering.

She lifted her hand, the black and grey robes billowing in the wind as the rain began to fall, the skies releasing the tears the boy didn't have. Energies gathered as the coercer contemplated how to end the boy's life, which of her powerful charms would be the most satisfying, the most painful to the frightened boy.

"That is quite enough," a light and airy voice intoned, causing the coercer to startle.

"You!" the dark elf hissed, her energies coursing outward, splashing against the wall above the terrified boy.

Bare feet touched the ground before him, fluttering white robes with purple and silver embellishments following, swirling about the legs of the person that distracted his tormentor. Slowly, the boy looked upward, startled by the pale and delicate being.

She wasn't much older than he should have been, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with the eternal look all elves possessed for much of their life. Her hair was long and white, faint violet hues streaking through it, the tips brushing over the back of her knees. Pale skinned and graceful, she held a silver stave with an odd setting that looked much like an opening lotus, tilted forward slightly so that the floating orb within was visible; she pointed the stave at the coercer, the orb's glow growing rapidly.

"I cannot allow this again, it ends here," she whispered, her voice somehow echoing around them. As the dark enchantress readied another spell, energies lashed out from the orb and engulfed the dark elf, causing her to scream in panic. Despite the conviction of her words, the pale elf wore an expression of sadness, frowning as her energies flooded the enchantress.

There was a strange tone sounding in his ears as a flash of brilliant light exploded; when the energies cleared, the pale elf and the boy were alone in the streets. She turned, and extended her hand to the boy, helping him up from the ground slowly, giving him a heartbroken smile.

He stared up at her, eyes wide and curious, having only ever known the Kerran girl and her mistress until now. She gently ruffled his hair before resting her arm around his shoulders, leading him away from the dark streets of Freeport, out across the waters...


The silvery elf whispered something beneath his breath, almost fearfully as he noted the younger boy's grip sliding. With a quick thought, he gathered the remaining untaken energy, gathering it, and banished it into the floor. His arms slid around the boy, holding him gently, whispering into his ear.

"...hea...me??"

The boy's eyes remained unfocused for a moment, his body mostly weak in the older boy's arms. The younger boy's heartbeat was strong and steady, his body warm and flush for a change, extremely relaxed. The ghost Kerra stood, paws held to her mouth, eyes wide and terrified, almost paralized to the spot.

The older elf dropped to his knees, cradling the boy in his arms. The younger boy seemed warmer, more relaxed, but based on the spirit's reaction, and yes, he could sense it, he was not necessarily sure this was such a good thing.
He continued to hold the younger mage, petting his hair, waiting for any sign as to whether this had been a bad move, or something good.

As the silver elf's fingers drifted through the boy's hair, his eyes slowly tried to focus. The would grow a little more focused, but still distant, then a little less distant but still unfocused. The markings on the boy's body flickered as his eyes changed, growing dimmer and brighter in different spots. The dimmer they became, the more focus the boy had.

The ghost Kerra still clutched her paws to her mouth, her expression one of worry awash with guilt. She took a step forward, only to stop again as she watched the markings.Ilsael turned his eyes to her, a brief look of desperation crossing him as he looked to the feline, and then back to boy in his arms, hoping for an explanation.
"What have I done..." the silvery elf whispered.

The boy's eyes finally focused, looking up at the older elf in confusion, the last of the markings dimming entirely. His body tingled, but he lacked finer motor control, reaching clumsily for the other, seeming almost fearful.

With the Feir'dal boy aware again, the mixed emotions of the Kerra gave way to pure shame, her head lowering as she sunk down to her knees...


Fin