Emger’s eyes watched as the sun rose over the plains that lay between them and the sanctuary of Thyrayyah. In his heart, he feared that there would be much trouble along the way – that the War would come without them being ready. Ears flicking back and forth along his skull as the birds awoke in the forest behind them.

“You’re still freating,” Selin said, coming up behind him and leaning casually against the tree trunk. “It’s becoming annoying.”

The wolf snorted but said nothing, irritating the elf even more. They stood there, Bran snoring behind them and the horses eating the grass in the small area that the teathers allowed them. Ilranis stood farther away, eating placidly though Selin caught the unease in the stallion each time his silver coat flickered as if a fly had set upon it. Selin frowned. Emger Ronan was a legend – even four hundred years ago when he was a young prince on a quest to save his world from domination. He had asked a few times how the Seer could still live but either Emger would not answer or he would growl, saying it was none of his business. So he had dropped the subject. He simply waited until he would learn the answer to this mystery. When he had first met the wolf Emger Ronan had won the confidence of the entire army that Jesparen had lead into battle. Confidence that Dezerak would meet his end in the Pass of Morh and the trechery of his evil would be undone. Then, he had proclaimed Aiya to be the prophecied power – yet she failed to even bind the Dark Lord and he had hunted Jesparan down and imprissioned Selin.

Dezerak had not killed him. He had let him live in the darkest, deepest dungoun he could find in Slagent. Cold, alone except for the rats and spiders, Selin had waited. He wanted revenge for his people who had perished in the Pass. Was Emger trying to redeem himself from that War? Was he using some hidden magic to prolong his life until Dezerak was destroyed for good? Selin looked at the wolf, seated with his back to him, long, ashen wings folded along his back and the tips curled around his tail that lay silent. The sun was rising.

“Wake Bran,” Emger suddenly said. “And make for the end of the pass! Ilranis! Maes ko astatora! Bran! Run! Koth!”

Ilranis lifted his head with a start, snorting. At the elven command, he bolted off. Selin went over and kicked Bran who was still struggling to get to his feet. Emger was still as stone, watching the path they had come the night before. His entire body seemed to be quivering with anticipation. Bran was cursing as he grabbed his blanket and pack. Selin only spared enough time to grab his weapons and vault to the mares back, ignoring the saddle. “We follow Ilranis,” Selin said. “He went…”

Wild shouts, more like animal cries, came from behind them and Emger growled, his hackles rising and wings flaring. “They found you! Run!”

Turning on his hind legs, Emger bolted from the clearing at dead run with the horses behind him. Selin only spared a moment to look back and saw the charging beasts that the orcs and goblins road. They were yelling, shouting as if cheering their pray on. Selin was frantic. There were many. How would they lose them?

Ilranis tossed his head as they neared him. He half reared before running at pace with the horses. The stallion arched his neck, the whites of his eyes showing as he tossed his mane in annoyance. Selin had to chuckled. The only thing this powerful animal was mad about was getting his breakfast disterebed.

Emger felt the powerful force before Ilranis and nearly fell as they neared the remains of an old village. There enemy was gaining on them – only Ilranis could hope to escape there speed. The wolf growled as he veered into the village. There was something here – something that might be able to help them.

It was Tiarnen who felt the earth thundering behind them. He stopped his stallion and looked back. What he saw filled him with fear.

“What is it?” Khayrael asked, lifting her head where she was cuddling the wolf pup. She turned but saw nothing on the horizon. “Your highness?”

Recovering from his shock, Tirnen grabbed the bow strapped to his back and vaulted to the war horses back. “We have company,” he said and spurred the animal forward with a curt command. Khayrael cried out and clutched the puppy closer. “Hang on,” the elf whispered in her ear.

And she did for she could now sense that whatever had him troubled was dangerous indeed. As she clung to the saddle, and his arms, Khayrael suddenly had a greater fear then the man behind her – it was whatever was behind them.

Ilranis nickered suddenly and took off. Selin cursed. If anyone could save them it was the aryor. “What’s he running off for?” Bran cried in panic. “Doesn’t he have the magic?”

“Ilranis sensed others ahead. I think we are not the only ones that are being chased. I see another horseman up a head on a black steed.”

“Any chance you can tell where this rider is from?” Selin asked, his face being whipped my the mane of his horse. “Friend or foe?”

Emger did not answer and Selin growled his frustration. His horse was tireing.

The ground changed into a bolder shrewn field just before they reached the old village. Emger saw that Ilranis had stopped the other rider and was waiting when the rode up, rearing in defiance in a rythimic tone. Emger skidded to a halt, realsing a seal that he had placed on himself long ago. “Be you friend or foe of the Dark Lord?” he demaned of the rider.

Tiarnen checked his stallion as the other rode up, irritated that the aryor had stopped him from his flight. “Foe. Who…”

“Ilranis!” Emger cried, ignoring the elven prince and turning as the enemy closed in on them. Black magic flew from the dark host and Ilranis cried out, his crystalline horn exploding in a blinding light that quickly netted to deflected the magical attackes. Emger leaped through that bearer and attacked the first thing his teeth came upon. The maelsteed screamed and reared back. As other four watched, Ilranis and Emger took on the force alone. Yet, orcs came forth, wielding swords and bows. Selin’s mare was struck on the neck when he tried to turn her for a complicated war maneuver that only a war trained animal would know. He went flying and rolled under the black stallion who reared. “Dragons blood!” he cried, rolling to his feet, his sword being drawn at the same time. It had been a while since he had had to fight. His blood sang with the rush and his sword hummed with the ancient power that had been enstilled in it to protect him – and only him. He met the sword of his attacker as he rose. Anouther came and he defended himself and killed quicly. Then he glanced at Bran – the boy was already dead.

An arrow sang from behind him and the scree that had about taken his head off fell to the ground with a strangled cry, a silver shafted arrow in its throat. Anouther fell seconds later and Selin heard the bow of the rider behind him notch for another strick.

Emger cried out a spell and launched it at the group of maelsteed riders who became consumed, burning to death within seconds. A bolt of white magic struck a fell beast that rose behind him and he turned to see Alynn Easal and a slender white wolf racing toward them, there magical auora battle ready. Inside, Emger grinned for the wolf had come to aid them. But what had drove Alynn out of the Border Pass? His gut told him something was wrong. He could sense that the auras of the wolves were already battle worn. Had the High Pack already fought with them? And lost?

On the black steed, Khayrael held on as Tiarnen fired his bow. The stallion responsed to even the slightest movement and command as he entered the fray, the blond haired man fighting wildly with his sword and the wolves, some who had just entered the battle, fighting amoung the thick of it. They were so hoplessly outnumbered. The pup in her cloak mewed as they were jolted around as if Tiarnen was the only one on the horse.

Soemthing was burning inside her, like a dam that was pushing to escape. She remembered another night, another battle where she had felt like this. When her village was attacked and her parents and sisters killed. She didn’t remember how she escaped. She had, fleeing into the woods with burnt hands and a torn heart. She had ran to find saftly. Now, she could only find another battle field, more blood. More deaths. One man lay dead, his eyes open for he had died in fear and not knowing what had hit him. Creatures of the Dark Lord lay shirfling, some even turning to ash when the silver blade the other wielded cut into them. Fire burned everywhere and bolts of magic flew as the wolves countered magic with magic.

Suddenly, something grabbed her leg and she fell from the stallion. She cried out, curling up and trying to protect the puppy that screamed within her cloak. “Tiarnen!” she screamed in horror as she landed on the ground, an orc raising a mace to strike her.

He was out of arrows. Let out a cry, Tiarnen drew his blade and charged at her attackers. As he neared them, he leapt from the saddle, the stallion skidding to a halt and rearing to attack a nearby maelbeast. He killed the orc before it could touch her. “Khay!” he cried, pulling her up. “Get on Shantain and get out of here!”

“But you…” she began before he truned to face his emeny on the ground.

“Go!” Tiarnen screamed, shouting a command to his stallion who came straight to her. Tiarnen defended her as she mounted and spurred Shantain into a gallop. She looked back only once – the stranger was rolling back to his feet, blood oozing from his shoulder and Tiarnen surrounded by so many hideous shapes she could bearly see him.

In that moment, she panicked and the power erupted from her so violently that she only remembered the pain and Segarra’s scream as it exploded.

Tiarnen went flying when the blast hit him. He rolled, crashing into the stone wall that had once belonged to a inn’s yard. When he pulled himself up he saw that those that had been attacking him laying on the ground, the wind already churning there dust. Above, the clouds rolled in and the lightning split the air.

The remaning forces of the Dark Lord’s hunting party fled in terror and the two men and wolves were left standing in a ruined village with dead bodies, ash and smoke. Selin rose to his feet and stumbled over to Bran’s body. He closed his eyes and cursed at the same time. “You never should have come with me,” he whispered and closed the young mans eyes.

Emger felt himself shudder. The sky above opened up the clouds and let the cooling rain fall over the scorched ground. Quickly he regained his composuer, forcing his mind to return to a stat of calm before resealing his powers. Alynn walked up to him, touching the older wolf’s muzzle. “I failed you,” he whispered. Emger frowned and looked up – only Senes, his beta and protector, with him. Blood ozzed down Senes’ white coat in many places and he favored his right hind leg. His golden eyes looked haunted.

“There will be many defeats before we find victory,” Emger said softly and rose, his mind clamed from the cooling rain and the fact that somehow they had won a first battle. Ilranis was pawing angerly at one of the maelsteeds as if it was a toy. For the young stallion, this could have been more like a game to him. A serious game but a game nonetheless. Emger sensed anger coming from the stallion yet he only raised an eye at it. Ilranis was easily angered when those he cared for were nearly killed. In this case, it was probably the death of Bran and his loyalty to Selin.

Shantain trotted back to his master, tossing his head and snorting. Tiarnen looked up and cried out. “Khayrael!” She was pale and motionless, the white pup whinning within the protection of her cloak. He pulled her off and held her, ignoring his own wounds. Brushing her hair back he checked her life pulse and found her still breathing though faintly.

“Is she alive?” the blond elf asked, leaning on his sword. His voice, however, was kept firm and unconcerned. Emger walked up behind him. “Perhaps,” and he spared a quick glance at Emger, “now is a good time for introductions.”

The Blackwood elf looked up and felt suddenly weak before this strange elf. Despite the scars on his body he looked very noble, like a song come to life. His face was fair, his eyes a deep green and his manner lofty, like a man that was use to commanding. “Prince Tiarnen of Blackwood,” he said. “Khayrael is a refugee from Rand. I was escorting her to Thyrayyah.”

“Why?”

Tiarnen looked at the speaker and flinched at Emger’s tone. “She was heading that way. Her father had told her go run to the City of the Mages for protection when her village was attacked.”

The wolf snorted. “She holds great power. It is no wonder that she was told to go there. But were are still not safe in the open. We’re down to one horse and an aryor. We’ll have to make due.”

“And Bran?”

Emger looked back at the boy. “We cannot linger. Come.”

They made there way into the ghost town and slipped into an old barn on the outskirts of the village. In the dim light provided by the broken boards and roof, they tended there injuries. Ilranis mended what little he could for his strength was waning after the battle. Alynn and Senes slipped into the shadows. Emger choose to look into Khayrael and the Blackwood prince. The young man hovered over her as a white winged wolf pup mewed hungerly next to the girl. He sensed it. The fact that he had found it startled him. It was a power he long thought lost in the First Years when men and magic were new to Rerir. It was a power that he rarely tapped into himself and today he had only touched into it for he feared that the Dark Lord would sense the awakening of the one thing that might be able to defeat him.

“Long ago,” the wolf whispered. “I stood on the castle walls of Rune, the darkness that was the return of the Dark Lord gathering in the distance and I felt as if the troubles of this world would end. In the hands of a mage-girl I lay the future of Rerir and in doing so I failed from my own foresight.” Selin paused from welting his blade and looked up. Aiya Renis…Never taking his eyes from the girls body, Emger continued, well aware that this tale had captured Selin’s attention. “She was of a lost bloodline that had once wielded great power but that bloodline was diluted and she did not have the strength, nor the will power to stand and fight a foe such as Dezerak. She lived and because she lived the line of Jesparan continued for she concived a son before he died in battle. Her powers dimmed with his death and she lost her powers which is why the Renis line does not carry magical blood.”

Tiarnen’s eyes flashed. “And you think Khay is going to fight the Dark Lord?” Selin and Emger did not fail to see his body tense to protect the girl. “Find someone else do to your dirty work, Seer,” he spat.

“The pup, where did you find it?” Alynn asked before Emger could counter with a rebuke. The former High Alpha only sat in the corner, wings dropping and tail curled around his dark frame. He looked like a forboding shadow, defeated and alone but not afraid. “It is not even two days old.”

“We found it upon leaving the Border Pass,” Tiarnen said, never dropping the edge to his voice. “Khayrael has decided to call her Segarra.”

“The Border Pass,” Alynn mused. “There was only one in that territory to the south. Selmar was given that land at Emger’s request. I knew of a female he had found last winter.” Alynn said nothing after that and sank into silence.

The Seer turned his eyes to Tiarnen. “You still intend to carry out your word and bring her to Thyrayyah?”

“I do,” Tiarnen said firmly, his chin lifting defiantly. “It is where she wanted to go.”

The wolf nodded. “Very well. Though in Thyrayyah you may find that what I speak is true and thus your protection will be futile.” Tiarnen said nothing, pursing his lips in silent rebellion to his words. “I am Emger Ronan and this is Alynn Easal, High Alpha of the wolves. Saryon-Aes’Selin is the one I am escorting to Thyrayyah for his safety.” He caught the annoyed glance from the elf and smirked at him. Selin only ran the welting stone along the blade harder. “I advise that Alynn come with us as well to the Mage City. There, we will be safe – for a time.”

“Emger Ronan,” Alynn said, standing up. “A word with you if you will.” Striding off into a secluded corner that was once a stall though greatly burned and overrun with weeds an a small tree struggling for life. Not one to miss the commanding tone in the wolf’s voice, Emger rose and joined him, leaving Selin and the other prince to talk.

“You wish a word, aes kano,” the Seer said, lowering his head and stance respectfully.

“Don’t bother,” Alynn nearly growled. “The High Pack is gone, as you predicted when I fought for my pace in my father’s court. I knew not when and where. The same hord that sped after you slaughtered most in the pack and continued onward. I was awake and saw them coming. We ran but…”

“You lived,” Emger said, raising from his crouched stance to stand athorativly before Alynn. “You lived and two other members of your pack survived, Alynn. Seres has always been your loyal friend and protector. Suround yourself by loyal friends and allies and the wolves will never see extinction. Dezerak fears the powers that the wolves posess for they were bred for battle in ancient times.

For a time, Alynn only stared out, watching the rain falling into puddles outside the barn into small, trickling rivers that wound down the hill. “Is it coming, Emger? Is he coming again?”

Pale gray eyes looked at Alynn. “He comes, Alynn. He who men and beast fear as much as the Dark Lord himself and whom I fear above the Dark Lord.”

Alynn’s eyes widened in horror. “Why would he…”

“He is Dezerak’s servent and Selin is an important prize to him. If his lower ranking minions cannot recapture him then he will quickly revert to Fyrfac. Selin was wounded by Fyrfac in the Pass of Morh.”

“Then we should leave quickly,” Alynn said, his body tense and aleart as he stood to all fours. “If he were to catch us…”

The old wolf shook his head. “No, Alynn. I am under the impression that he will assume we have left the battle field to run – into a field where there would be no place to hide. Dezerak may control his pet but that pet has little intelligence save that to kill. We will stay here in this barn until night fall. Then we will move out.”

Selin watched the wolves talking and finished honing his blade. “You are of the dark line,” he said, returning his sword to his sheath. “In my days, the Elves of Blackwood were cowards.”

Tiarnen glared at him. “My father is a stubborn fool. He thinks that if we remain in Blackwood the evil in the forest will keep the evil of Diamord out.”

“And you do not feel the same way?” Selin asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“No. I do not,” Tiarnan countered, a hint of challenge in his voice. “What of you.”

Selin looked at him hard, seeing only a foolish boy no matter how battle-hardened Tiarnen was. “What of me, ensri kanol?” He asked, using the dialect of the Blackwood elves, much to Tiarnen’s surprise. “I have lived four-hundred years in hell and you dare ask what I think? My race, the elves of Sirannon, are gone. Either by the sword, spell, or ship they have been taken from Rerir and thus deserted me. They thought me dead while I waited in the dungeon. Blackwood harbors many evils that will eventually turn against those that seek shelter within her walls. You are a race that has long tempted fate.

Tiarnen was silent. His body trembled from anger and fear. Saryon-Aes’Selin. That was the name the old wolf had given this strange, scared stranger. Thin, pale, scared and bruised, this man looked nothing like the portrait songs wove. Yet, the eyes remained vibrant and full of life. Harboring a strong urge to live and fight. Tiarnen felt his breathing hitch and turned away.

Khayrael was awake.

Letting out a gasp he reached for her. “Are you alright, Khay?”

She let him get her to a sitting postion. “Aye,” she said, her arms curling protectively around the pup. “Have you fed her?”

Startled that she did not rebuke him, Tiarnen went to his pack and pulled out the supplement that was meant to sustain the pup until she was in Thyrayyah. He did not acknowlange Selin anymore and the other elf turned away from them, wrapped in his own dark, brooding thoughts. Tiarnen mixed the powder with a bit of water from his waterskin and gave it to Khay so that she could nurse the puppy. He watched her for a moment when her eyes flew up to met his. “Shantain should be looked after, Tiar,” she said softly.

There was something different about her. In the way she spoke and her manner. Tiarnen paused a moment before standing to go look at his stallion. A cold, black nose nuzzled his arm as he ran his fingers along the muscular legs and neck. He smiled softly. Shantain was uninjured save a few small cuts that had already clotted. Despite the maylee they had entered the battle training both had undergone had finally paid off.

He leaned against the muscular shoulder and watched Khayrael from a distance. Emger and Alynn moved apart. The gray wolf went to lay next to Selin, speaking few words before falling quite. They were waiting. As the sky darkened and the rain fell with more intensity, Tiarnen felt a foreboding lingering in his heart that would not be quelled. Something was coming there direction. A great presence that had had never felt before. He looked at Selin who’s pale, drawn face was even whiter then before. He sat under the pillar, legs drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. His eyes were closed. Emger lay, head resting in his paws and eyes shut. The wolves remained in the shadows and Ilranis kept his vigil at the barn entrance.

“This is an unnatural rain,” Tiarnen said softly.

Emger looked up at him. “This rain is a conjuration,” he said simply. “By one that does not yet know the strength of there powers.” He did not look at Khayrael but the elf wondered if he did. The girl had lain down, eyes closed and pale. Did she have such abilities? Could she fight the Dark Lord?

“He is here,” Alynn suddenly said. Selin’s eyes flew open and Ilranis stepped back from the collapsing archway. “He comes on ground, not wing.”

“Quietly and quickly,” Emger said, rising and moving farther back into the old barn. “Any fear you feel try to quell for he feeds off fear and hunts by it. Fill your mind and hearts with things to chase such fear away.”

Shantain stood ready to bolt and almost did until Ilranis touched him with his horn and the great stallion slowly sank to his knees and then to his side where he lay motionless. When Tiarnen went to cry out in protest Selin covered his mouth and pulled him away from his mount and into the far recesses of the darkness.

The rain was light now and from the cracks in the wall they could see the location of there flight. A gastly creature was walking calmly, confidently, through the carniage and ash. Khayrael saw him for the first time, a beast of legend and fear. Fyrfac, the demon of fire and ash.

Selin was able to watch while Khayrael drew away in fear. She sat amoung the wolves and Tiarnen. The young elf was starting to hum a soft song that slowly began to fill her mind. Under normal cercumstatnces she would have ignored him and fought the lure of his voice. Now, it filled her with something other then fear so she closed her eyes and let her mind wander where his voice went.

Emger took a seat next to Selin and watched as Fyrfac picked through the carnage. He was a groutesuge beast of twisted features and shadowed. Red eyes blazed from where eyes should be and his lean, sickly frame moved with a grace that filled one with terror and awe. Even Emger felt this. He closed his eyes briefly and hung his head before looking up again.

“What is he, Emger?” Selin asked. “I feel there is more to him then stories tell. A commanding presence and a tourtured spirit.”

Emger did not answer right away for he was watching Fyrfac as the beast picked up a maelsteed and threw it aside like it was a paper doll. “He was once a wild, free beast of the sky and wind. Enslaved by dark magic he became twisted and evil, only to serve his master’s intent. His powers are unbridled and unmatched. Ancient and mysterious, they have the power to heal and to destroy. Only the later has Dezerak found interest in. Only the later does the Dark Lord use him for.”

“That…thing…can heal?” Khayrael whispered.

“Aye. Once. So the legends say.”

“Damit!” Selin cursed. To his horror he watched as Fyrfac paused over Bran’s body. The creature flung the steed aside – only to have the man’s body be thrown away from him. Clawed paws turned the body over, inspecting it. He sniffed before hissing and arching shadow-lined wings. Stooping, the beast picked Bran’s body up and took wing, leaving the village, heading back to Diamord.

“Returning to his master with a constellation prize,” Emger growled. “We should have burned Bran’s body when we had the chance. His spirt should have passed on by know.”

“Let us hope,” Selin said.

Suddenly, Emger rose and walked back to the main stable. “We go, quickly. Danger has passed us for now. We have a long journey to make which has been made easier with two steeds. Will Ilranis carry you, Selin?”

The elf and aryor passed glaces. Ilranis suddenly snorted and slumped, pawing the earth once. “I take that as an unwilling yes,” Selin said. “Best wake the other up, Ilranis, or you’ll be carrying three on that little back of yours.”

Pinning his ears back at the remark, Ilranis pranced past Selin and flicked his tail in his face quick and hard so that it hurt. Selin cried out in surprise, pressing a hand to his face. “My, your temper has not improved, has it.”

Tiarnen couldn’t help but smile a bit at the exchange. “I have heard stories of Ilranis,” he said. “I never though to see him in my day.”

“I am pleased he still lives,” Selin said softly.

Shantain rose suddenly and snorted at Ilranis who snorted back. Tiarnen helped Khayrael mount before sitting behind her. Selin accepted Ilranis crouch as he pulled his tired body onto the quivering stallion. “Are the wolves coming with us?”

“Yes,” Alynn said though he sounded as if he rued the idea. “We run with you. To split up now would be folly.”

“Or certain death,” Senes muttered, turning away to look at the wall and through the crack where they had just seen Fyrfac. “I wonder if that creature didn’t presue us because he found that body.”

Emger looked at Selin who grimanced. “Perhaps,” said the wolf. “Though I think he will pay dearly for brining a common…”

Khayrael screamed and everyone froze. Emger turned around to see Fyrfac looming in the doorway, Bran in his mouth like a next meal. The Blood Seal ripped apart at Emger’s cry of command and Ilranis reared in defiance. The two wolves braced themselves despite the pressure cuased by the creatures power. Alynn snarled in rage and fear while Senes crept forward before his leader to protect him with his life if he must.

“Go back to your master’s hell!” Emger spat and sent all his strength in a single spell hurling at the beast. Fyrfac lifted a paw and deflected it. Bran’s body fell to the earth and a single paw lifted to cover it, crushing bone and flesh as if it was a mere toy. Blood began to pool under his paw and some winced as they heard bone being crushed into powerder.

“Little fool,” he hissed, rancid liquid falling from his mouth. “You know better then that,” and he laughed as he crept closer to him. Emger growled, hackles on end. Determination on his face as his teeth flashed in the light. An aura exploded around him and he stood his ground.

It was then that he heard it. A voice, soft and in pain, fearful and melencoic. He froze and Fyrfac stilled, starting as if he had been struck. Emger could only look at the beast, his magic around him though he knew he was too weak – even with Ilranis’ aid – to defeat this monster. Fly, little fool!

Fyrfac reared back and screamed, clutching his prize in his talons.

Gray eyes widened for only a second before Emger spun on his heels and bolted for the back of the barn. His magic swelled and exploded. Wood splinters flew in all directions even as Emger leapt from the still shattering wall and raced. Ilranis didn’t waste anytime in following. If Emger was running, then he would be damed if he was going to be left behind and fight this thing. Selin clung to his mane, stuggling to stay awake for the power of Fyrfac was nearly suffocating him. He could see now why tales said one could die from looking at Fyrfac. Behind him, the wolves scattered and the Blackwood prince drove his heels into his black charger, the girl screaming in fear.

They fled into the coming night, the storm once again flaring to full furry. Rain pelted them and lightning crashed in the sky. No one thought about slowing or looking back to see if they were being presued.

For once, Emger was relieved that Khayrael had not gained control of her powers for her fear was dominating them, calling them forth to protect her from this evil. Fyrfac did not like the rain and cursed it. Rain, no matter how hard it fell from the clouds, had a symbolic meaning of cleansing ones soul and spirit. Dezerak had made him fear this. Fyrfac hated the rain and had probably only gone hunting this night because of his master’s command.

Fly, little fool.

Those words were eched like a firey brand in his mind. Fyrfac had told him to run.

 

It was hours later when they slowed. Emger spared a look behind him through the rain. “He does not presue,” he said. “He has abandoned the chase.”

“Was he even going after us when we ran?” Senes asked, snorting and panting. “That was one event I never want to relive.”

Selin wheiled Ilranis around. “Why did you run,” he demaned. “You knew he could catch us which is why we didn’t run earlier. You…”

Emger turned on Selin, fangs bared and a flame forming around his body. Instantly, Selin shut up. Emger had not resealed his powers and he did not want the attacks he had sent loose on Fyrfac to be released on him. “We all would have died in that barn if we had stayed to fight,” the wolf growled, ears flattening. “There is more to that creature then you will ever understand,” the wolf spat. “He lost his sanity, perhaps, but I feel he fights to regain control over his spirit. He told me to run. He knew where we where which is why he went to block us. I would have rather he chased us to the very gates of Thyrayyah then turn back.”

“And why is that?” Tiarnen demanded. “So that he could devour us and tear us to pieces. I’ve heard what that thing can do and I do not wish to meet it any closer then I have just witnessed.”

“Let’s just say I’ve had more then one encounter with Fyrfac in the past,” Emger said gruffly, flicking his wings tigtly to his back. “We must keep moving. We will not rest again until morning. The sooner this journey is over, the better.”

The land was dark with a pale moon shinning down through the clouds. Emger sensed that Khayrael was asleep and her spirit at peace thus the sky allowed the clouds to break and the moon to light there way. They walked quickly, allowing the two mounts to cool out slowly after the dead run, a pace that only Ilranis could have maintained for hours more without tiring. The wolves walked behind them, heads to the ground and small shadows following them at a distance. Emger admired Alynn’s courage for coming with them. The winged wolves rarely had interations with humans and thus the High Alpha’s decision to go to Thyrayyah was strange. Perhaps it was to seek advice. Or to seek refuage until he could decide what to do after his packs slaughter. Emger knew the weight that lay on Alynn’s heart – a pack was more then those one hunted with. They were family, friends, and kin to ones soul. A pack was a unity and broken it was a hard thing to repair. Only three had survived.

By dawn, the landscape had changed from rocky hills to sparse trees and lushious grass lands. Selin spotted a herd of delcer grazing near a group of trees. Tiarnen lifted his bow from the saddle straps. He dropped Khayrael to the ground where she was made to follow the wolves to a small grove of trees where they waited for the elves’ return. She helped gather wood for the fire then sat, watching Segarra with a worried expression. The pup was failing. In her heart she feared that after all this the pup would still die. She stroked the puppy, her cloak wrapped around the tiny form. At the same time she marvled at the wings, so small and delicate and nothing more then a few feathers on pale pink skin.

“You are lucky to find her,” a voice said from behind her. She startled and looked at Alynn. “And I am glad that you did. She is the daughter of Selmar Nellar, a good friend and companion of mine. He was in his late years; a former leader of the wolves before he was exiled for trying to help men pass between the north and south. It was said that the Nallar line was ancient and old, possessing great power. Selmar had no magic at all. It was never questioned why.”

Khayrael looked down at the puppy, mewling at her stomach. “How do you know who her father was?”

The dark wolf looked at her from the shadows where he lay. “Tiarnen recounted the tale of finding her to me on our journey while you slept. He told me of the white wolf he had seen in front of the den. He claims meakers killed them yet I think otherwise. Since the Dark Lord had rose from Diamord he has awaken the evil things in Blackwood against the others. It is my belief that her parents were murdered intentionally.”

“Alynn, a little assistance if you please,” Emger called as he pushed his paw into the pile of wood that he had arranged.

Golden eyes lit with amusment. “You call yourself a fire mage, Emger. You lit it yourself.” He huffed and lay his head on his paws, closing his eyes and soon falling into a light slumber.

The older wolf glared at him. “What do you think I am? Boundless limits on my power too, pup?” He snorted before laying down next to the wood. His blood cried out in misery from the power he had used today. Too much, he thought as he closed his eyes. I used too much.

“Could I do it?” Khayrael asked, causing Emger to look up. “You said I can use magic, right? Why can’t I do it?”

At first Emger wanted to tell her that she wasn’t allowed to do magic until she was saftly in Thyrayyah. But she looked at him and he felt all his weiryness melt before her request. “Aye, you may. It should be simple enough for you to accomplish.”

“How?” she asked simply. “I don’t even know how I conjured the storm.”

“The storm was your magic reacting to your fear and desire to live. It is only a theory but you are a mage of air – of wind, weather, and seasons.”

She pouted. “So I can’t make fire.”

“Yes,” Emger said. “Because you are not a simple mage bound to one element. Your powers are likely linked to a higher power and thus you can delve into all types of elemental magic, including fire. This is a simple task, Khayrael. Simply call forth fire from your mind and heart and send it to the wood. Let me get out of the way first. I don’t want my feathers singed.”

“Chicken,” Senes chuckled form where he stood watching over Alynn’s sleeping form. “What’s the matter, Em. Afraid she’ll try to roast you?”

The Seer sent him a whithering glare before turning to the girl. “Okay, try it. Concetnrate and the rest should be easy enough for you.”

“There isn’t a spell or anything that I need to say?”

“Ilar,” the wolf said simply, shrugging. The Marl word for ‘fire’.

Bitting her lower lip, Khayrael sat up taller aginst the oak tree and extended her hand. She was afraid she would make a fool of herself and do something terribly wrong. This was the first time she had ever used magic intentionally. She had heard of stories from traveling mages of disasters with beginners that she almost decided against this. But she was cold and a fire would be most welcome. So she fought to calm her breathing and closed her eyes, a hand outcast before her toward the little pile of wood.

Her magic snapped inside her and she felt it coming forth to her will. Startled she opened her eyes. Then closed them again as she concentrated on only one thing – fire. She had to start the fire. “Ilar!” she commanded and felt the magic explode from her hand, sending her realing backward against the tree hard. Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes to a warm glow and a rather amused gray winged wolf.

Emger blinked. “Well, that was better then I expected though You’ll have to work on your control,” he admitted. “The battle today would have brought your blood intoned to the magic in your veins. A day or two ago calling forth such power would have been impossible. How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” she said.

The wolf nodded. “And when did you learn you had any sort of power?”

“When I was around thirteen or so. I do not remember exactly.”

The sound of hooves brought there conversation to a pause as Tiarnen and Selin came up with a doe over the black war horses’ neck. “I see a fire is started.” Selin sent a small glare at Emger. “Don’t think we saw what you didn’t do,” the elf said as he patted Ilranis’ neck. The aryor playfully nipped his sleeve before prancing off to find some grass to eat. Eventually, leaves proved to be a tastier meal. Tiarnen dismounted and pulled the carcus off his horse before tethering him. “I will take only what we can eat today,” Selin said. “I’m sure the wolves won’t mind dining off what we leave.”

“Oh, not at all!” Senes said, licking his muzzle as the scent of fresh blood filled his veins. Alynn woke rather quickly as his mouth began to water in his sleep. Pulling himself up he began to make his way toward Tiarnen. Emger watched him, eyes narrowing. When the former leader pinned his ears back at the elf who had began cutting the hide off the meat, Emger growled.

“You are no leader here, Alynn Easal. Let the humans take there first share. They will leave enough for us to dine on.”

“Since when do humans take first choice on a kill?” he demanded.

“Since we’re the ones who killed it,” Selin said, an eyebrow raised as he walked by, butting the end of Lathsul, the dragon dagger, on the wolf’s head. “There are only three humans and we don’t eat as much as you think.”

At this, Alynn backed down but he looked dejected. Retuning to his place under the brush, he lay down and watched. Emger felt sorry for him as did Khayrael. He was only acting as he was use to. In pack society he had always taken his fill first, then Senes followed by the rest of the pack. It was nature and Alynn was hardly tame.

The men cut off enough to feed them for perhaps two more days of travel before dragging the delcer off to the side. Alynn was quickly on his feet and tearing off pieces of the flesh as if he haddn’t eaten in days. Emger and Senes sat and waited until he had there fill before stepping up and taking what was left. Selin found sticks that suited his needs and made a rough platform to cook the meat on. He regreated loosing his pack in the battle but there was no time to go back for it now. He had his dagger and his sword – that was all he would be needing from here on out. Tiarnen sat next to Khayrael and cooked the meat for her. He handed her the first piece then went on to place another over the fire. They ate in silence, each wrapped up in there own thoughts. As the sun rose and the autumn chill seeped away, they grew sleepy. The wolves returned to the site and curled up, asleep almost instantly. Ilranis was laying sprawled on his side as if he had been struck down and slept soundly. Shantain stood but had his head lowered as he dozed.

“Traitors,” Selin hissed. “I have much to ask that gray lump of fur in particular and he falls asleep as if were hadn’t been attacked and chased by Dezerak’s hord. I will kill him eventually, I swear.”

Tiarnen looked up from pulling a blanket from his saddle. “I take it you don’t get a long with him,” the wood elf said with a small grin tugging on his lips.

The other looked at him. “No. And I do not trust him, either. He is a Seer and I have delt with his propheicies in the past.”

“He told me how to make a fire and it worked,” Khayrael pouted, pressing a paste into Segarra’s mouth. She prayed this root would keep the puppy alive until she was able to give it milk. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

Selin snorted. “Perhaps. But I know not why he is still alive after four hundred years. I traveled with him when I fought in the war with Jesparan Renis. Not even wolves live that long and he was already old then.”

“Perhaps he is cursed,” Tiarnen said, pulling the cloak around him and offering a side to Khayrael. She took it but quickly went back to her motherly task. “He is often seen in and around Blackwood and even in Nimat. He is less welcome in Deor’s capital, however.”

“And what mischief is he up ton in Nimat, I wonder,” Selin mused, glaring at Emger’s sleeping form. “I wish he had died in that Pass. Along with Mesi Kahn.”

Tiarnen looked at him and blinked. “Mesi Kahn?”

The look in Selin’s eyes made it clear that that was a subject that should have been left untouched. Despite the memories that it brought to him, Selin answered that question. “I resuced him from the river five years before the Dark Lord decalred war. I called him Mesi Kahn because he looked very much like the river with a silver coat that was more blue then silver.”

“What does Mesi Kahn mean?”

“River Wind,” Tiarnen answered. His face was furrowed in thought. “You came to Blackwood, didn’t you, Selin. Just before the war. You tried to convice my father to send his army into battle.”

“Yes. Your father did not need my pleas though I doubt archers from Blackwood would have aided us now that I recall what happened.”

Tiarnen grinned up at him. “I was the lad that held your horse while you argued with him.”

At this Selin gave a little laugh. “You? A prince doing the work of a stable boy? That is odd.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Tiarnen smiled slightly. “It was a punishment for teasing the old hound. My brother and I loved getting him rilled up even if he did bite us a few times. That was the only time we were caught – when his teeth found its mark.”

Khayrael looked up at the woodelf, a smile tugging her lips at this new found information. So childish, teasing a dog. Her mind tried to inmangine a younger Tiarnen and his brother poking a stick at a sleeping dog; there laughter when he woke snarling and angry for being disturbed. “What is so funny?” he asked, jabbing her in the side with his elbow. “You think getting bit by a stupid old dog is funny?”

“Yes,” she simply said, bitting her lower lip to stop from laughing. He snorted and refused to look at her.

“I’m sure you did some pretty stupid things in your youth so I wouldn’t be the one laughing.”

“Are you three mortals going to sleep or keep waking me up,” Emger’s tired voice suddenly asked. “Ilranis will wake should danger press so I advise you all rest up while you have the chance.”

Tiarnen looked at Selin. “Do you want to set up watch anyway?”

Looking at Ilranis death still form, Selin sent a mental nudge at the stallion. His tail flicked in annoyance and Selin left him alone. “No. The aryor can sense things coming quicker then even an elf. Let us sleep. I trust in Ilranis’ training.”

So they lay down, Tiarnen and Khayrael sharing a blanket while Selin used there spare. Soon they lay asleep, the sunlight coming out to chase the horrors of the night and dry up the ground from the torrential rains.

 

The gaurds were restless. Jerren Renis paced back and forth in the throne room. He was home and had secured his line as a successor. Yet he was troubled. He doubted it was over the coronation. He was ready to lead his people and the army against whatever foe came to take Deor from them. Yet, there was a nagging suspission that the people had already decided that his cousin was the rightful heir and that they believed in this prophecy and history that he had never heard of until now. As his frustration grew, so did his anger.

“Your highness,” a timid voice asked. He stopped his pacing and whirled on the girl that stood only a few feet from him. She was beautiful in the sunlight that slanted through the windows. Her hair was long and dark, plighted down her back with a circlet of blue flowers in her hair. A gown of dark blue draped over her body from her bosoum down so that the slight curve of her hips was bearly visable. Her eyes were blue and it was the fear within them that caused Jerren’s eyes to relax. “For give me, your highness. I am lady Ainah. I was told you were here and came to…”

Jerren blinked. Ainah? The daughter of Amostal Janler? Amostal was a loyal subject of his father’s court and had not yet made any motion that he agreed to Ralur’s claim. “Milday, forgive me but I do not remember. Your father is Amostal Janler, correct?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Ah,” and he took a deep breath to steady himself and push aside his current fears for the moment. “What is it lady, that you come seeking my presence.”

She looked at him, a bit startled. “Were you not told, Prince Jerren? That I am your bethrothed as of tomarrow?”

“Ah, Jerren! Lad, there you are!” Halgon came tottering toward him, his staff thudding on the stone floors as he did so. “I have recived a message from Arch Mage Talthon. It is marked urgent.”

The young prince glared. “I’m a little bussy, Halgon. Can this not wait? On second thought,” and he grabbed the letter the mage was flailing around to capture the old mans attention. “Perhaps you can explain to my why I was never told I had a bride-to-be?”

Halgon blinked. “You were never told? Really? Well, from your birth lady Ainah and Jandoran had planned your marriage. Of course, her hand isn’t yours until you have a crown on your head but still.”

Ainah blinked as if she had been struck. “But, that is not the law! I already belong to Prince…”

“Halgon, explain this moment or I will…”

Waving his hands as if warding an evil demon, Halgon cried out. “Spare me, lord! I speak only what I know! It was because of a prophecy that your father made it so. Only until you wear the crown can the good lady be your bethrothed.”

“Prophecy?” Jerren spat. “What prophecy?”

“The one fortold upon your birth. I do not know or bother to memorize such things. I only know it was made by the wolven Seer, Emger Ronan. That is all I know.”

Jerren felt like he needed to punch something – hard. Instead he growled his rage and spun around, clenching his fists. Ainah remained motionless, her hands folded in her skirts as a proper lady should. She had been raised to be a queen. Fires of Kemesh take the mutt for that prophecy. He had heard of Emger Ronan and his power to fortell the future. Why did he have to intrude upon his life? As for Ainah – unless she could do more then stand around with her hands claspt in her skirts and looking downward, he would never wed her. Truthfully, he did not want a wife at all. He was only entering his twentieth year! He did not need a wife.

“Halgon,” Jerren’s voice cut through the mages’ muttering. Looking up, Halgon eyed him fearfully as if he was about to be sent to the dungouns. “Where does this wolf reside? I wish to have a word with him.”

“None know, highness. He is a wander and comes and goes at will. Though I have heard he often roams with the High Pack near the Border Pass.”

Letting out a rush of air, Jerren placed his hand on his temple. Of all times, he wished Tiarnen was here for there were matters that he simply did not know how to handel. “Can anyone find this wolf? Bring him here into the court?”

Ralur stepped into the corridor. “Lady Aniah, your father is waiting for you downstairs.”

Jerren sent daggers at Ralur as he escorted the lady out of the room. She glanced back at him and the prince blinked, a slow smile on his lips. In her eyes she saw something that made him second guess his bride-to-be’s nature. A bit of spark, of resentment. A women that was thinking and was good at hiding it. Perhaps this arrangement wasn’t so bad after all.

Ralur made a disgusting sound as she passed out of site. He was leaning against the door, watching her. The thought of what his cousin was watching was almost sickening. Jerren moved toward him. “Not the kind of lady I would want as a wife,” he said. “She thinks too much. I see it in her eyes.” He looked at Jerren. “As long as she pleased you in bed you should have nothing to worry about.”

“It is I she is to wed, Ralur, not you,” Jerren quipped. A rustle behind him caused him to turn. “Halgon, you are dismissed.”

Bowing, the mage began to make his exit. “Do not forget Talthon’s letter, lord,” he said before disapreaing.

“He isn’t a lord yet,” Ralur growled after Halgon. “And over my dead body are you getting my throne.”

Jerren met his glare. “Perhaps we should settle this with a tournament, Ral. Who ever is alive in the end gets the throne. Like the idea?”

The other now flexed his jaw in wrath for Ralur knew that in sucha tournament Jerren would win for swordplay or jousting had never been his best skills. “Shut up. What is bothering you. I saw you pacing earlier. Neverous that I’ll try something tomarrow?”

“Yes,” Jerren snapped out. “I don’t trust you,” and he moved back to the windows where he would have better time to judge Ralur’s moves should he try anything. “I never will.”

Ralur shrugged. “I heard your conversation with the old man. Are you planning to go after Emger Ronan yourself? You wouldn’t have time to find him by the marrow and to cancel that corination would forefeight your claim to the throne.”

His eyes were glinting and Jerren glared at them. “I know not what I am going to do. I will decide on the marrow.” Turning smarlty he left Ralur to gloat in his small victory. He needed help in this decision. He walked to his room and closed the door, ordering his guards not to let anyone pass. They nodded and he went to pasing in his room. He was restless and it annoyed him.

“Go find Emger,” a woman’s voice said. He jumped when he saw Ainah standing infront of the hearth. “I will go with you.”

He nearly choked on the words. “Ainah! What…how…”

“I know the secret passageways,” she said shrugging. As she moved toward him he saw something different about her. She was not cluching her hands like a timid maid. Rather, she had them at her side, her shoulders thrown back in determination and her blue eyes were flashing. “As for the what, I came to talk to you for your future is linked to mine and I will not have it being run by a Seer that is only a wolf.”

Jerren raised an eyebrow. “I take back my earlier thoughts, lady. You are no timid courtiour mouse. I am pleased.”

She flashed a smile at him. “My father taught me many thigns, including how to stay alive in a royal court. I took his heed and gained more then beauty but brains as well. I am glad you are pleased.”

His eyes looked her up and down and he blinked. “I do not doubt the beauty, lady. But what you ask of me I cannot do. The coronation is toamrrow.”

“Have you read the Arch Mage’s letter, Jerren?”

For a moment he only stared at her – she had addressed him formally. Indeed, she had inherited her father’s brashness. “No,” was all he could say. At her stern glance, he went to the desk and pulled the letter from the sealed envelope. Marked with the Arch Mage’s initah, he would not doubt an forigery.

 

To Prince Jerren Renis, heir of Deor,

I have sent this as warning for there are things that you must know before any action is taken within your kingdom. I have heard from Halgon that your cousin, Ralur Soreath, has lain claim to the throne and that you have won the will of the council that you are the true leader. Though what has come to pass is only for a time, you must understand that you are destine for things greater then the king of a small, war-torn country.

For years I have had council with the Seer known as Emger Ronan. A wandering wolf that is known to dwell at times with the Lord Alynn Easal. Emger is on the move and word came to me that he left the high pack months ago, telling the wolf lord that trouble was coming from the north – from Diamord. I do not doubt Emger’s goals though he has given me little information as well. It is his way and I do not doubt him. Thus, once you have become the king of Deor, you must travel to Thyrayyah. I believe Emger is returning within the moon and with him may come aid to our cause – a means to fight the Dark Lord and win. I know not what he is up to, the old scoundrel, but he has yet to fail me when matters of the Dark Lord are brought up.

For your journey, travel alone and make haste in your travel for the Demon of Diamord has been set loose and prowls the skies.

Until we met in the flesh, farewell, Prince Jerren.

                                                Arch Mage Talthon

“What does he say?” Ainah asked. “Anything important?”

“I will proceed with the corrination,” Jerren said soflty, hardly realizeing he had said it. “Then I will depart, alone, to Thyrayyah. Talthon wishes to hold council with me.” He stepped over to the fire and let the letter fall, watching the edges catch and begin to burn. “He says that Emger is heading toward Thyrayyah. I will ask him there, about what my future.” He said the last softly, more to himself then to the young woman next to him.

“I see,” Ainah said. She looked at the letter, pursing her lips. She, too, had wanted to read that letter. As his future wife, she expected him to share the contents with her. Yet, in her heart she felt that there was something going on, something that would not be hers to know until the time was right. Until then, she would have to act the delicate lady and hide in the masquared that her father had taught her. “I take your leave, my prince,” she said, cursiting and walking away from him.

“I go alone,” he said, never looking at her. “I will leave on the marrow. At sunset after the coronation. I feel that I cannot delay much longer.”

She looked at him, shocked. “No escorts? That is madness!”

“It is as the Arch Mage commanded. He is a powerful man, lady. I will not do otherwise of what he says.”

Flickign her dark plaite over her shoulders, Ainah glared at him. “If you continue to run your life as others deem you should, lord prince, then you will find yourself no better then your departed father.” And with that stining note, she left him, closing the door with out a second glance. He looked after her, feeling the stining blow but feeling as if he had no choice in such matters.

For now.

(NOTE FOR NEXT SESSION! Go back to add to the journey of the others.)