| ����������������������������������������� UNTITLED ��������������� ������������������������������������� Chapter 1: Arrival ����� The castle loomed imposingly from the center of town, its great central tower visible days before you reached it.� He had made it.� After months of travel and training he had finally arrived at his destination.� The city of Barron, capital of the country of the same name, the crossroads of Aurora; it was awe-inspiring.� The man watched for a minute just inside of town, appreciating the diversity of this great city.� Humans, elves, dwarves, sylphes, fairaes, various monsters, and even a pair of dragon whelps with their mother soaring far above wandered the street just inside the eastern gatehouse.� He couldn�t wait until he got into the central town.� Truly a crossroads for the planet, with all races, professions, and almost anything else one would ever need, desire or wonder about filled the city.� The country was known for two things, its manufacturing of anything one could imagine, and its unsurpassed military prowess.� The guilds in the city refined raw materials from every other place in the Low, Mid, or High Realms. Barron had nothing but people, land, and the world�s largest and most efficient military, excepting some granite mines in the Tri-World Mountains, barren in nature in truth.� ���� Coming back to his senses in a flash he remembered his duty and started moving forward, looking from some promising soul to get directions from.� His gaze settled on the two whelps and he decided.� Strolling towards them, he hailed them in their own language, something that made them whip their fragile-looking heads around.� Eyes as large as a child�s head regarded him coolly but wonderingly.� Very few humans spoke their language, and fewer still spoke it well; he did both.� A man of fairly large stature, he stood near two and a quarter stride tall, and was broad shouldered in proportion, but these dragon children were a good three and a half strides taller and much, much wider. Nearly platinum blond hair fell in gentle waves halfway to his shoulders, and an air of command radiated outward from strikingly blue eyes, but the knowledge, strength, and beauty of a graceful predator enhanced the man�s appearance.� They did wait for him to catch up and begin speaking though. ����� �Hail and well met fire-cousins.� He spoke ritualistically in the Dragon Tongue, the words primal and seemingly ill formed, but inherent in those words was a deep music that suggested the rush of wind along gleaming scaly hides in flight.� �I am new come to this land, a traveler as you appear to be.� Might I inquire as to where the local swordsman�s guild is?� I have come to train.� ���� A small crowd had gathered to watch this man fearlessly approach two dragons that, though small in comparison to their elders, still were more than halfway to the roof of the smaller buildings in the area.� �He speak they tongue? How he do that momma?� inquired a small Elvan lad with the wonderment only a child can possess.� His mother did not reply, struck in fear of the dragons, though they were common enough sights in town.� The child kept asking questions as all the adults seemed petrified by some unknown force. ���� �Khersh ni desh missh.�� The first replied, as the second said������� �Weh schid eus kher?�� I do not know, and why should we know?� The man translated.� �We need not use weapons other than tooth, breath and claw.� Find some two leg to ask.� The second added. ����� A roar from above startled all that were gathered, as the mother dragon swooped down and nipped at the second whelp for being rude.� Gathering them in her claws she spoke to the man �Forgive Ishseah.� She has no manners though I do not know why.� Why can you not be more like your brother?� Now apologize to the nice�man and we can be on our way.� ���� �I am sorry.� Mumbled Ishseah, the second whelp.� It was still a healthy roar, but dragons were not known for being quiet.������� �But I do not know.� Why not ask one of those who wear the weapon on them?� They might know better than I.���� ���� �No offense taken madam.� Said the man as he reached up to pat the sensitive area between the nostrils on her snout affectionately.� Ishseah chirred contentedly before recovering herself, and would have blushed had it been possible for a dragon to do so.� In the crowd someone gasped as he so easily touched the child dragon, though mother dragons were known to be fiercely protective to their get until they left to find a lair and a mate of their own.� They were equally surprised and appalled when the mother dragon brought the soft tip of her spike laden tail to touch him lightly on the shoulder.� Someone gasped and fainted, thinking the traveler was going to be skewered.� He was sent to one knee by the force of the tap, but it was very light for an adult dragon.� ���� With a rumble deep in her throat that the man knew for humor if no one else did, the mother said �Now, now, two-legs, I won�t have you flirting with my daughter!� You�re a hefty one and would make a nice snack for her, but otherwise I think you�re a tad on the small side to be of any real use to her, if you take my meaning.�� The look on her face was as close to a grin as a dragon could get, and though more people in the now fairly sizable crowd pressed back at the site of her showing teeth, no one dared leave this juicy scene.� This would be the talk of any town, even one so large as Barron, for a good few weeks if not months.� The crazy stranger calming dealing with the dragon as if it were another person. ����� The traveler laughed and the young dragon girl gave a light roar that was akin to a gasp of indignation.� �Well said madam.� The man said with an ear-splitting grin.� �I promise to keep my filthy wiles away from your precious children.� ����� Ishseah gave another roar-gasp and her brother made a sound very like a chortle, and their mother spread her wings and launched herself from the top of the building where she had alighted.� �She that you do two-legs!� Else we might meet again in a less pleasant situation.� She roared as she soared off. ����� �Your words are my command!� Be well fire-cousins!� he shouted back, ending with the traditional pleasantries, though it was doubtful the dragons could hear him. Turning from the sky with a wry chuckle he noticed the crowd and blinked, then smiled ruefully as he berated himself.� Just stay low, try not to attract too much attention; Good job on that one, eh?� If he was lucky a month down the road this might be forgotten.� ����� Scanning the crowd quickly he saw a troll with a massive longsword slanted between his shoulder blades and made his was towards him.� A trail of children traveled in his wake, waiting for his next feat and ignoring cries of their parents to let the stranger be about his business.� The crowd was thinning so he managed to catch the warrior after only about ten paces.� Switching to monster low he called to the brute �Hey!� You with the extra long pig sticker!� Wait for me!�� ���� The troll turned and grasped his sword hilt, scanning the crowd for kin, then fixed his gaze on the man who had just held a conversation with a trio of dragons briskly walking towards him.� �Eh?� What got we here?� Ya talk dragin and monsta low?� Whadda ya want with Mungh.� ���� �Mungh, is it?� said the man as he stopped in front of the troll.� Craning his neck to look at the figure carved from rock that stood a good three-quarter stride taller than him, he lowered his voice so no one else would notice his being able to speak this tongue also, he continued.� �I noticed that sword you have and was wondering if you could direct me to the swordsman guild?� I came here to train.� ���� �Little man want be swordsman?� Ya got the guts for it?� Have pass at me with one of those purdy lil things sticking out at yer waist.� If ya can beat Mungh, Mungh take ya to guild.�� The troll drew his sword and got into a starting stance.� �Come to Mungh little man.� I show how big man fight!� ���� �I really don�t want to do this Mungh.� I don�t want to accidentally hurt you, or get hurt.� ���� �Little man no attack?� said the troll switching to an attack stance.� �Then block!� he roared as he launched himself towards the traveler. ���� The man had known what form he was going to start with by the stance so he drew and parried.� The shock of the blow was intense, coming from a creature whose muscles were literally rock hard, but he immediately counterattacked with his own blade, knocking Mungh�s sword out of his grasp and smoothly flowing into placing his own black blade against his adversary�s throat.� No wasted motion.� That was one of his mentor�s first lessons.� ���� The troll stood dumbfounded and staring alternatively at the blade at his neck and his own dark longsword on the ground a good stride and a half away.� The traveler could cut his throat as soon as he took his first step and he wouldn�t even have died with his sword in his hand. ���� �Strength can only get you so far Mungh.� Speed and technique can overcome almost any amount of strength.� What good is being able to hack a tree down in one swing if you open up your defense for a lethal blow?� The tree will not fall if you have a blade in your ribs.�� The man sheathed his weapon then looked around quickly as he motioned for the troll to pick up its blade.� Another crowd, though thankfully much smaller, had gathered.� More attention� just what he didn�t want.� �By Ifrite�s Fire man, pick it up and lets go.� I want no more eyes on me.� ���� Mungh only nodded dumbfoundedly. ���������������������������������������������� *� *� *� *� * ���� Deep in the shadows of the surrounding buildings something stirred.� I form so black it melded seamlessly with its dark environs shifted its weight slightly as it evaluated what it had just seen.� He had told his student to stay low and not draw attention to himself, and what did that fool do?� First speaks the Dragon Tongue to a pair of passing whelps, starts bantering with their mother, starts seemingly to court the young dragon, then jokes around some more with the mother and mockingly bows them out.� No attention gained there, Stalker thought ruefully.� Then he speaks Low to a troll warrior, easily beats the brute in a duel, and then lectures him on proper swordsmanship.� No attention gained there either.� Why did the boy�s father have to call in that favor now! And for this!� ���� Well, Stalker thought, no use whining about it.� Maybe he�ll try to stay more hidden now.� The lie rang hollow in his head, but he ignored it.� Flowing towards the center of shadows, as Spectres like him were wont to do, he found the blackest patch and used it to move into the shadows of the swordsman guild.� Being undead had advantages, and he knew them all.� Lets see if he can be a bit more discreet.� He knew it was a vain hope but he held onto it anyway.� One day that fool would learn his teachings, all of them, as he had promised himself and Ifrite.� Even if it killed him.� He had been alive almost since time began, and one thing he knew he did better than anyone or anything else was waiting. ������������������������������������������������� *� *� *� *� * ���� Steven looked up as the large mahogany doors to the swordsman�s guild open and Mungh strolled in deep in conversation with some human.� As the troll dropped the newcomer off at the registration desk he caught some of their conversation. It was in Low?� What manner of creature was this human-looking thing if it spoke the basest tongue of the monsters fluently?� A shapeshifter maybe?� With a skewering motion the human seemed to be demonstrating something.� Mungh listening to a human?� That was about as rare as a dwarf in the High Realm.� Filthy cave dwelling subterranean midgets anyway. ���� Steven banished that line of thought and concentrated as Mungh switched to common, which he spoke haltingly at best, and introduced Steven to the man-thing.� He waited for the troll to go away, but one thing Mungh said leaped out at him and Steven went agape at what he heard. ���� �Mungh thank for teach.� You big man, Mungh little man.� Ya come fight Mungh anytime.� I �member what ya say bout techniks.� Mungh thank.� ���� Those words struck Steven stronger than if the troll had bashed his head in.� A troll, and this one at that, thanking a human and calling it a bigger man?� He very nearly swooned.� Trolls never took advice unless they got routed soundly, and this troll was worse than most.� Even the guild leader had a hard time teaching him.� What manner of creature was this before him?� ���� The man, if that is what it was, seemed to be waiting for something, and Steven remembered his duties with a start.� ���� �Welcome traveler� he said in common, �to the Guild of the Sword, established five years after the defeat of the nefarious dragon Ronius by our first King, Barros Steadyblade.� What seek ye here within the walls that have taught heroes beyond count?�� ���� In perfect elvan, the traveler answered Steven in his native tongue, which he had hardly heard since coming to this accursed town.� �I seek the right to train, to become one of those accepted into the Fellowship of the Blades, Master Clerk Steven.� ���� Again struck by the versatility of this creature he continues in common, to shocked to even reply in his own native tongue.� �Who is it that seeks admittance?� ���� �I am called Efrate.� The man said, with a look of wariness in his eyes that Steven found out of place.� Why would something as simple as a name shake a person who dealt with trolls as an old friend might?� No answers came to him so he broke ceremony to ask for his surname. ���� �I have none.� I am Efrate, no more, no less.� Just Efrate.� That elvan was so perfect it made Steven cringe on the inside.� This man spoke his native tongue better than he did!� Yet again Efrate seemed shaken by revealing his name, almost as if it should be known, and if it was it would cause trouble.� Steven was curious but let it slide.� He had something in mind, which would reveal more about this strange man-thing than Efrate would normally. ���� �Well then just Efrate, I welcome you to this place of learning.� But know this!� You are not yet accepted.� There are tests and trails before you may become one of the Fellowship.� Worry not,� Steven added with a small smile.� �You will not be harmed too badly if you keep your wits about you.� We just need to judge your skill.� ���� �I accept and obey Master Clerk.� He said humbly.� Now came the time for a little fun on his part, thought Steven with an inward chuckle.� His Dark Elf blood, though a minimal part of him, enjoyed the discomfort of others extremely, and he had a feeling this would be very fun.� He just couldn�t pass up such an opportunity, ���� �First Efrate, a few general questions that will help us decide how to train you.� Race?� ���� For a moment Efrate seemed uncertain, then he recovered so fast it could have been Steven�s imagination.� �Human, as you can see.�� ���� Efrate still seemed uneasy over something, and Steven racked his brain to find something, but he had to let it slide.� �From whence do you hail?�� Steven asked, getting another feeling of uncertainty from him.� Savor what little comfort you have for now, he thought to himself, soon you will be in a lot more difficult position.� ���� �I come from far to the south, a small island south even of Agarithia.� I doubt you�ve heard of it.� ���� Steven was about to ask the name of the island, though he knew little of the geography of this Realm, but decided to let it pass, though it would have been another source of discomfort for this man. ���� �In what house or houses do you wish to train?� ���� �What does that mean?� Efrate said, glancing suspiciously around.� �I came to be a swordsman, I thought this was the guild.� If that troll mislead me he will pay dearly!� I will make him wish for the slight humiliation I gave him earlier.�� ���� Steven blinked in surprise before he could get hold of himself.� The man had defeated Mungh?� The troll was far from great but he was considered to be one of the better intermediate swordsmen in the guild.� That troll should have been able to chop this man to pieces.� This strange human again amazed him, and anything that eluded his understanding had always angered him.� He switched his plan for this man�s discomfort, and decided to be harsh with him.� When the time was right. ���� �Mungh did not mislead you.� A house is a type of blade.� There are six houses in this guild.� One for single hand single edge, another for single hand double edge, one each for the dual-hand version of those, one for single hand stabbing swords, and then a special house for using dual blades.� Each house is divided into rooms which devout themselves to a particular style of fighting, such as Elvan, Dwarven, Human, and so forth.� It is a tradition from when the guild was merely an area of the city where people came to practice then grew to multiple dwellings for that purpose which in turn lead to the guild hall as you see it now.���� ���� �Oh I see.� My apologies for my ignorance Master Clerk.� All houses.� ���� Steven nearly fell over, before he realized that Efrate must have been jesting.� He said as much, and was further amazed as this man shook his head.� ��� �I do not jest.� I will train in all the houses.� Efrate smiled secretly as he finished �I have some prior knowledge of all of them.� ��� �Well then now for your entrance exam.� All the houses?� Steven thought, well time to kill that arrogance right away.� He smiled wryly at the prospect this man had dropped himself into.� �You will face an advanced member from each house then, and you will fight them.� They will determine your skill.� They will hold back some, but not much so be prepared.� If you will excuse me I will go fetch them.� ���� �Master Clerk?� Efrate asked as he turned away.� �Ask them not to hold back please.� I think it will be more� beneficial if they fight me as if they really meant it.� ���� �As you wish.� Have a seat I will return shortly.�� Steven turned away chuckling as he went to fetch the challengers.� His Dark Elf side would delight in this.� He chortled softly as he went into the guild to find the six best available members.� He would teach that human to be so knowledgeable and sure of himself- even if it killed the both of them. ������������������������������������������������� *� *� *� *� * ���� Efrate watched warily as the clerk ventured deep into the guild for his opponents.� Apparently he wasn�t as well known as he hoped, at least in this guild.� Maybe his father had only told his most devout followers those twenty summers ago that he had had a child.� He could hope.� The mage guild would be harder, he presumed, all that occult knowledge floating around inside their heads.� He had a reserve plan or three in case that happened, but he was hesitant to use them.� He didn�t like lying, and even the bit about the clerk probably not having heard of the island, while true if you think of its true, ancient name, still rang very close to an untruth in his ears.� ���� A slight twinge on the edge of his consciousness cleared all the thoughts from his head as he looked up.� His mentor was trying to contact him.� But where�?� Scanning the patches of shadows he found the deepest one and went towards it, making sure no one was watching.� Not a soul that could be seen was in the room so he scurried into the shadows and lowly hissed a question to the creature he knew that was there.� ���� �I contacted you,� said Stalker with equal care in case someone was looking.� �To tell you not to use your blades unless absolutely necessary, especially not the one I forged and attuned to you.� We cannot have anyone know I am training you.� No telling who may be plotting with Zion.� That clerk means you nothing but ill will, in case you didn�t notice.�� Efrate said he did, amazed that his teacher could think him so dense as to not see through that badly concealed anger and negativity of the dark elf.�������� �Use the other enchanted blade if you are in severe need of an advantage, but only if absolutely necessary.� There is a feeling in the air, very well hidden, of some great misfortune that is just waiting to befall this place, and I will bet- well, I don�t have a soul, but if I did I�d bet even that- that Zion is somehow connected to it.� It has that abomination�s feel to it.� Be on your guard young Elemental.� I will not rescue you unless even you are a half step away from dead. And I know exactly how much you and your ilk can take.� Now I will be around, and I will let you know if we need to talk.� Try to be more observant though, that was the fifth time I brushed your mind to let you know I was here and needed to talk to you.� I promised your father to make you as great a warrior, person, and mage as I could, and I will if I have to take you soul and turn you into one of the undead as I am.�� Stalker finally paused for what would have been breath in the living being, but before Efrate could squeeze a word in edgewise the Spectre started again with his tirade. ���� �And another thing.� I want you to be more subtle and circumspect.� What was with hailing the dragons in their own language, then the troll with his?� Are you insane?� Try not to attract notice you fool.� We have spoken too long, get back to that bench and show me what you�ve learned.� You will do well.�� ���� As Efrate went back to the bench to await his �entrance exam�, he mused over what Stalker had said.� The flood of criticism flowed over him like a sea serpent over the waves, effortlessly and almost without notice.� After traveling two years with the undead Swordmaster, he had learned to accept it, try to work on it, and then forget it.� The spectre�s final words stuck a chord deep within him and he felt a hot rage rising.� Not a wish or something to make him enthusiastic, Efrate mused, but a command.� That was Stalker for you.� He then realized that he had spoken the undead tongue perfectly, Stalker hadn�t berated him once for �sullying the tongue of his people� as��� we normally would.� That quelled his indignation and he continued to wait.� ���� This time his mind was seized horrendously by his mentor and he jerked upright with the force of Stalker�s telepathy.� One more thing, he heard the now familiar mental voice say, don�t use any magic or any of the �tricks� I taught you.� Just use plain swordplay.� Fight them as they should fight you, with honor and respect.� Save the dirty secrets for the field.� ���� Efrate would have staggered had he been standing as he was released, yet as it was he wobbled and felt faint.� He was not used to full mind to mind contact with the undead yet.� His anger heated again as he heard a dry chuckle come form a different patch of darkness, and again he let go.� That was his father coming out.� He wished his mother�s calmness came to him as easily as his father�s anger.� He sighed away his regrets and focused on what was ahead.� Stalker had probably done that just to get a reaction out of him.� Why Efrate, he would hear his master say as he had the first time he had asked about it, not getting petulant are we?� Haven�t you ever heard of training your emotions?� Stalker was big on emotional training.� Come to think of it, Efrate thought wryly, Stalker is big on any and all types of training.� ���� His thoughts were vanquished as he heard footsteps from the direction Steven had gone.� Looking up he saw a wide variety of beings all with at least one blade coming towards him.� Leading the pack was Steven looking very smug.� Efrate smiled inwardly as he contemplated how that look should change after not much time.� ���� �Are you ready Efrate?� Steven asked in common with a smirk on his face that was just a hairsbreadth from becoming all out mocking laughter.� ���� �I am Master Clerk.� He answered in common.� �I trust you told them not to hold back?�� ���� �I did.� Now will you be using your own blades or shall the guild provide them for you?� ���� �I�d ask the guild to provide them.� I have only three on me as you can see,� said Efrate as he gestured to the scabbards on each side of his waist and the hilt sticking up over his shoulder� �so I might as well use all of them from the guilds storehouse.� ���� �I thought as much,� replied the clerk, �so I took the liberty of choosing the blades myself.� Bladesman Scrof!� he bellowed, and an ogre from the back came forwards, dropping a large wicker basket with a goodly number of blades in it. ���� Turning towards Efrate, Steven said �I will let you decide in which order to go.� When you are ready let me know and I shall send the appropriate person to you.� ���� �I thank thee Master Clerk.�� Efrate said.� He went to the basket and grabbed a short sword, designed to puncture armor at close range.� The balance was horrible as he expected, and the steel appeared heavily flawed.� Most likely this blade and all the rest had sat forgotten in some ancient corner of the storehouse for ages.� He concluded he was right as he snapped his wrist to shake off the dust.� Sneezing uncontrollably for a few short moments, he recovered and said �I am ready lets begin.� ���� �Bladeswoman Ariel!� called out Steven, and a beautiful Fairae floated down towards him on wings seemingly made from silk.� He knew those wings were at least as strong as steel, if not stronger, and her build indicated a wiry strength.� She alighted about two strides from Efrate, and though she came to no higher than the bottom of his chest, he knew determination when he saw it, and he re-assessed how he would deal with her.� ���� �Begin!� called Steven and he moved back to make room for the participants. The fairly ran towards him, intending to drive her blade right through Efrate�s ribs, but he anticipated her thrust from the ways her eyes moved and was able to parry it easily.����� She leaped back obviously surprised but she recovered quickly.� Unfurling her wings to gain extra speed she flew towards him incredibly fast but he was ready. He sidestepped, and threw his might into one upwards-moving strike towards the very tip of her blade.� The shock sent the sword flying into the air and he rounded on her as she was surprised and pressed the point lightly to her stomach.� She halted her movement and her blade came falling down into Efrate�s other outstretched hand. ���� Everyone but Efrate was surprised, but Steven seemed positively furious in addition.� Ariel seemed to be in a state of shock as he made a gallant bow and offered her sword hilt first to her.� �I believe you lost hold of this milady.� He said with a sincere smile to take any sting that might be detected out of it.� Mumbles of awe came form his examiners and the crowd that had gathered to watch.� �Two things, if I may?� he asked Ariel.� She nodded still dumbfounded by her defeat.� �First don�t hold your sword in a death grip.� It makes you lose the grip at the first real shock.� Second, your eyes told me where you were going to strike.� Make eye contact while still being aware of what his feet and body and blade are doing. ���� �T-thank you.� She stammered in common, but the airy accents of her people made it a lovely sound to hear.� �I-I will try to r-remember that.�� She staggered away and plumped down on the bench where Efrate had been sitting earlier. Obviously she did not get defeated often.� ���� Tossing the blade aside he grabbed another out of the basket.� As dusty as the other one was, and somehow it managed to be more imbalanced if slightly less flawed than the other did.� A one-handed single edged weapon, as were the ones at his waist.� His current specialty, he thought ruefully.� This would be over even faster.� ���� �Swordsman Elnrhode!� Steven called, and an Elf came forward.� He was a typical height for an Elf, about a fifth of a stride taller than Efrate.� He moved nimbly and seemed very relaxed.� No death grip upon his blade.� Efrate hoped it wasn�t overconfidence, because the Elf would need every shard of ability to beat Efrate in this house. �Begin!� Shouted Steven. ���� It isn�t overconfidence, was Efrate�s first thought.� Elnrhode was very supple, seemingly sliding towards Efrate.� His eyes betrayed nothing, but he knew the form the Elf was about to attempt by his foot position.� Efrate prepared a counter attack then noticed him making slight shift of weight almost too late.� Efrate was glad he had been expecting this.� A high feint, probably leading into a reverse slice.� Efrate sprang into action as the elf started his feint, ducking casually underneath the blade and bringing his own to rest at the Elf�s neck as the slash passed harmlessly over his left shoulder.� Knowing he had lost Elnrhode dropped his weapon and accepted his defeat with much better composure than Ariel, but elves were known for their honor in everything.� Well, most of them, he thought ruefully with a glance at Steven. ���� �Nice try, but you shifted your weight from the feint too soon.� It was enough to be predicted and by the time you executed your planned attack I was under and away from your swing you were open to any number of attacks.� Patience friend elf.� ���� Efrate was again treated to a look of such indignation by Steven that he almost smiled, but he restrained himself.� He wanted no enemies yet, seeing as he had been in the city less than an hour.� He took up a single-handed broadsword and put his other single edge in the basket.� �Ready.� He said, testing the blade.� A little bit better than the others, he noted, but not enough to make it be considered even of decent craftsmanship.� ���� �Sebastian!� called the clerk, the smirk gone completely and pure hate on his face.� One enemy already it seemed to Efrate.� Fate sure had decided to make it difficult for him. ���� A human came forth and didn�t even wait for a begin.� Aghast at this rudeness Efrate didn�t even bother to parry the first swing, merely slipping out of the way and bringing the weapon down straight towards his adversary�s head.� Sebastian was quick to parry what would have been a deadly blow but the force of the attack knocked his weapon far aside and Efrate let his own backswing come to rest at Sebastian�s temple, pressed hard enough to draw a little blood, if nothing seriously harmful. ���� �At least, wait for a begin next time.� Efrate spoke menacingly.� Calming down he said, �Also, do not underestimate your opponents strength.� And remember to watch the backswing on a dual edge.� ���� Sebastian stammered an apology as Efrate tossed the broadsword aside.� He picked up a two-hand version of his former weapon, not even caring about balance.� It was bad, but it could be dealt with.� �Next Master Clerk.� Efrate said coldly. ���� �Gorin.� Stammered Steven, going pale faced in lieu of his tone.� A dwarf came forward bearing a massive claymore, and stood still until he heard the frightened clerk say �Begin.� ���� The first shock of their blades meeting stunned Efrate.� Gorin likely could have managed to carry that basket by himself untroubled.� Efrate decided to play upon the weakness of dwarves in general: their height.� He stood taller than the dwarf by a good two-third stride, and he decided to use his reach as his advantage.� As he went in for a strike to the dwarf�s head Gorin slipped out of the way and lunged for Efrate�s middle.����� Surprise lasted only an instant as Efrate seized his only hope of escaping unscathed, and brought his weapon around and swung it backwards towards the back of the dwarf�s head.� Gorin halted as he felt the edge against his skull and Efrate slipped aside unconsciously to dodge the thrust that was no longer coming.� ���� �By Dios�s Beard yer good!� the Dwarf exclaimed in common.� ���� �As are you.� You almost had me but unless your life is in danger you should never throw everything into one attack.� You left yourself completely open.� Any attack I did, provided that I did it faster than you, would have landed solidly without any hope of a block from you.� ���� �I�ll remember that.� Gorin said with a thoughtful smile as Efrate tossed that blade aside as well.� ���� Efrate took the dual-hand single edge from the basket, the masters sword as it was sometimes called, and took up stance.� �Ready.�� ���� �Ahmel.� Called out Steven, visibly trembling with shock, rage, or both.� A Sylphe came forward, floating delicately.� Of a size with Efrate, he was tall for his race, and his face was much more rugged than his Fairae cousins� were, more than a regular Sylphe even.� This man was a seasoned veteran.� Those lines on his face were scars, not wrinkles.� �Begin.� stated the clerk, seeming a little more at ease. ���� The Sylphe used his wings to full advantage, swooping down on Efrate from high, but he misjudged his opponent�s reaction.� There was a sharp clang of a parried blow then a blade seemed to appear out of no where at the Sylphe�s side.� �You made two errors.� One was trying to decide the battle with one blow, the other was underestimating how quickly I would respond.� ���� �I see.� Thank you.�� ���� Watching Ahmel float away into the crowd that now seemed to be composed of every guild member, he took two single hand single edge swords out of the basket, both of about the same poor balance, and said �Next one please.� with a smile at Steven. ���� Steven smiled back, startling Efrate, though he let none of it show, and called out �Scrof.� ���� Efrate blinked in surprise as the ogre came forward wielding two massive claymores.� This was his final opponent?� He assessed the situation quickly, and didn�t like the conclusions he came to.� The ogre stood at least 4 strides tall, weighed in at likely 8 times Efrate�s weight, and could probably smash an entire building with one swing of those blades.� �Begin!� yelled Steven triumphantly.�� ���� Scrof lumbered towards Efrate quite spryly for something as big as it was.� Efrate Leaped aside to dodge the swings of those blades, and the floor got two huge furrows where the blades of the monster connected.� He desperately was looking for some way to come out on top, and decided what he must do.� Hopefully this body could sustain it.� Efrate crouched, studying the ogre�s blades and waiting for the next swing.� As he had suspected it was a standard overhead swing and he took his opening and leaped into it.� He passed through Scrof�s blades, the edges just missing his shoulders, chopped down at the flawed parts of the blades he has seen just moments before, thus breaking both the creature�s swords.� Efrate then used the momentum from his recoiling blades to propel himself onto one of the creature�s massive arms and place a sword at each side of its neck, so no matter how it would move or try to dislodge him, the ogre would kill itself in the process. ���� �It is finished.�� Intoned Efrate in his rich baritone.� �I have passed your examination I believe?� ���� The master clerk could only stand there agape, as all the people who had gathered were.� �How�?� That�s impossible!� Even Guild Leader Indair only chose one house to begin his training with, and he didn�t defeat his examiner.� No one ever has defeated their examiner, let alone all of them!� Especially these who are the near the highest standing in their respective houses!� How�?� and the clerk stood sputtering for quite a while until he fell to his knees and stared blankly into the distance. ���� Efrate had some small measure of pity for the dark elf, but he could resist the temptation to plant a few barbs before he turned compassionate.� �Also, Master Clerk,� he said, grabbing Steven�s attention, �You may wish to give further beginners a blade that isn�t as horribly flawed and unbalanced as these.� Considering how, I just routed the best you could offer, along with the quality of the weapons you offer, I think there is a bit of an unfair advantage towards the examiners don�t you?�� Steven look absolutely aghast and on the verge of tears when Efrate finally gave way to sympathy and pulling the clerk to his feet said in perfect Elvan �You are forgiven that you are flawed within Steven.� I know your blood caused this, but control is the mark of a true warrior and you should learn it better.�� He smiled then, and the clerk stammered what might have been an apology before he dashed out with wet eyes.������������ Watching him go, Efrate could not help but sigh.� He might have been a tad too cruel, and he disliked causing pain, but he thought that was what the elf needed.� Sometimes a rap on the head is more of a lesson than a lecture.� ���� Gorin waddled up to him and spoke lowly �I don�t know what ye said but I am of a mind that he needed it.� Filthy elves anyways.� Ye seem ta speak their tongue well, and I got a feeling that ye got more surprises in ye than anyone can guess.� That aside, we need to see the guild leader as he formally accepts you.� He is in the central hall now, giving a lecture on something or another.� Not my house so I didn�t pay much attention when they announced it.� Be careful though.� The boss is an elf and ye might be in bad standing with him when he finds out what happened here.� Sensitive about elvan honor and a bunch of rubbish like that, ye know?�� Gorin smiled toothily at that last, and then motioned for Efrate to follow.� Sighing, Efrate adjusted his scabbards and started trailing the dwarf through the maze of corridors that made up the guild.� ������������������������������������������������ *� *� *� *� * ���� Stalker watched Efrate take off after Gorin.� The dwarf alone of the examiners seemed to have a good deal of talent, and might become something in time.� Maybe the elf.� The ogre relied completely on strength and stature, and the fairae on her speed.� The human and the sylphe were both wreckless and needed reigning in, but they�d never be more than mediocre warriors.� The same was true of the former pair, though he thought the fairae might be a little more skilled than the rest.� Maybe he should have told his student to seek out the soldiers at the castle.� He knew that two of them there were an equal match for the magus, if not better.� Them and the magus working together might even be able to beat him or one of his brothers if they got lucky.� No use worrying about that now.� He hoped to see a little more of a battle sometime today.� Maybe he would show himself and take on ten or twenty of the guild students.� He smiled inwardly at that, berating himself for being cautious.� He could probably take the entire guild out with only minor harms taken on his part.� The melinnia had skilled him far beyond anything a mortal could hope. ���� Chuckling too softly to be heard by the myriad assortment of creatures calling themselves swordsmen who stood still as stone watching his student leaving with awe on their faces, he effortlessly faded from the inside of one patch of darkness to another.� He probably could have walked plainly among them and still had them not notice, in fact he knew he could, but he dared not risk being spotted by an enemy.� Anyone with foul intentions and the briefest spark of intellect would be interested in the �man� who talked to dragons, trolls, and elves easily in their own tongue, then effortlessly defeated the six best swordsman currently in the guild. ���� He followed warily, fading from one patch of shadows to the next, never even nearing the lighter edges of darkness, and ghosted his way along the halls.� He could have went directly to the central chamber, for he knew this place well.� He had planned it and aided in the construction somewhat.� Not hauling stone or timbers, though he gladly would have if Barros had asked.� He did owe the nation�s first king a favor for that one piece of knowledge he had been given.� Though considering how much he had trained the man, he should be collecting debts rather than going into them.� Still the cinic, eh?� Some distant voice laughed at him, and he holed it away in the back of his mind.� Even he didn�t have enough control to always keep stray thoughts from surfacing.� Though that had been the first this century, so he was improving.� ���� As he slipped down the halls behind Gorin and Efrate, he noticed the spells he had laid reacting to the presence of the undead.� He could read the scribbled runes enough to tell how many were in the guild right now, how powerful they were, and what they were, with startling precision.� After all these years his enchantments still remained intact, and he hadn�t even bothered to rework them.� He wondered if the current guild leader knew how to read them.� He had taught Efrate how in preparation for this, but he guessed the knowledge was lost with time.� Almost everything eventually falls sway to the grasp of time, even most the undead.� Their age can be so unfathomable when they pass that it seems like eternity, but he knew better.� He would never die as long as Elizabeth was alive, and he doubted everyone and everything on Aurora combined could kill her.� With one exception, but hopefully her sister would stay imprisoned forever so he wouldn�t have to worry about that again. ���� No use worrying about that until it happens.� He thought wearily.� With everything else going on, he really didn�t want to ponder that course of event.� Being a participant in one war between Goddesses was quite enough for one eternity.� He wondered if any of his former soldiers were still around.� He knew Three of them were, two of those much to his dismay, but other than his brothers and the Elementals, he doubted it.� He pondered taking his old title again, and decided he might as well, at least to add to his entrance when he revealed himself.� Hopefully he wouldn�t have too anytime soon, but he might anyways.� He disliked being forced into things greatly. ����� Efrate had stopped at the doors to the central chamber, and Stalker faded into the central chamber.� There were places in here that never had been touched by light since the building was built, he had made sure of that those thousands of years ago.� The doors opened and Gorin walked in to announce his student.� Maybe this would get interesting. ������������������������������������������������ *� *� *� *� * ���� Efrate followed Gorin as soon as he had been announced, with what seemed to ceremonial phrases.� Dwarves were never as polite as Gorin was now, unless treading through an Elvan city.� ���� The guild leader seemed annoyed, having his class interrupted, and seemed about to rebuke the dwarf, then Gorin said it. ����� �This man, calling himself by the name of Efrate, with no surname given or existing, so Steven told me, asked to train in all the houses.�� Gorin looked at Efrate and winked, a slow grin spreading across his face as the startled yells and scoffing went one.� The dwarf raised his voice and Efrate felt a grin forming himself.� He wanted to see the reaction of the guild leader.� Continuing, Gorin said, �His request was considered, and our Master Clerk allowed him to face examiners from each house, one right after another.� That was approximately ten moments ago.�� More snickers from the crowd, and a few brazen shouts wondering how fast each particular house�s representative had defeated him.� �Efrate faced Ariel, Elnrhode, Sebastian, myself, Ahmel, and Scrof, in that order.�� Murmurs of awe from the crowd, exclaiming over how lucky he was to still be standing after the guilds finest in residence had tested him.� �Efrate effortlessly defeated all of them, using the worst weapons that could be found in the storehouse.� This man,� said Gorin as dead silence reigned, pointing towards Efrate and motioning him to come forward, �has defeated the best in each house, and given tips to each of us.� He broke Scrof�s blades during the final round.� All this happened not even a fourth of an hour ago, he beat us that quickly.� I bring him before you Guild Mater Indiar, for acceptance.� ����� Some time ago a silence had fell upon the hall, and it still reigned supreme.� Indiar rose smoothly in the quiet that had descended, and removed his robe.� He unsheathed his own blade and told the students to back away.� �Efrate is it?� You have done the impossible. I shall speak to Steven about weighting the examinations.� Will you join the dance with me?�� He intoned formally, taking up a starting stance.� �I would like to try you myself, if you do not mind?� An exhibition for the members in attendance?� Mayhaps we will all learn something new this day.� ����� �I think I will agree Guild Leader Indiar was it?� he tasted the name on his tongue and found it to his liking.� The elves all had beautiful names.� There true names at least, though most took up false names to make them easier on the human tongue.� At the guild master�s nod he walked to the center of the hall.� Gorin grasped his hand as he strode by and told him to be careful.� He wasn�t guild leader for nothing.� Efrate only smiled.� �There is no reason to punish Steven Guild Leader, I chastised him before I came, no offense to your position intended of course.� ����� �None taken Efrate.� It has been a while since I have had an opponent of your caliber.� Use whatever kind of sword you like.� Be warned though, I will not hold back and this is my specialty.� The guild leader said, brandishing his blade.� ����� Efrate smiled and asked for a blade of the same type from the crowd.� The guild leader started to protest, but he forestalled him.� �Tis my current favorite also, but my blades are enchanted, and I wish not to have an unfair advantage.� Keep yours though.� I would not think to make a man of your position use a common soldier�s blade.� Again, no offense to the assembled.� He added hastily, looking around with a smile.� He accepted one from a young fairae who looked at him and blushed.� Quite pretty he admited to himself.� He returned her smile and thanked her quietly in her own tongue.� She blushed again and turned away, a look of shock on her face.� He might speak to her later.� ����� He tested the blade and it felt so much better than the ones he had just used that he sighed audibly.� He could only deteact one flaw in the otherwise perfect steel, and it was so small that there was virtually no way it would propose any sort of disadvantage.� It had good balance too.� He took up stance about five strides from Indiar and readied himself. ����� He looked into the man�s eyes and decided he would have to bring all his skill to the forefront.� This man would make very few mistakes, if any.� ����� Gorin waddled down and declared that he would act as official.� He gave Efrate a long apraising look and mumbled �I hope you know what you�re doing,� then raised his voice and said �begin!� ����� Right from the start Efrate knew this man would make even less mistakes than he had planned.� There blades met and sparks flew as managed to parry the first blow.� More rained down towards him, and he skillfully parried or dodged them all.� He was stuck on the defensive when their weapons met once again and they pitted themselves in a lock, seeing who was the stronger.� A very basic technique, but affective.� Any move he made without breaking the lock would leave himself open to any number of attacks, and he would not make that mistake.� For all of his white hair the elf was almost as strong as Gorin, and had a height advantage as well.� He had switched to form and counterform as soon as the first blow had landed.� Not motley assortment of blocks and attacks from Indiar, he was a true swordsman.� ����� All this flashed through Efrate�s head as he fought the elf from pushing him back and unbalancing him.� Amidst this, Indair said �You are good Efrate, but I�ll have you know I can managed two of ten versus the Magus of the Sword.� Can you best that?� ����� Efrate smiled and threw his strength into a push and sent the elf backwards, breaking the lock.� He stepped into an attack form but the elf responded accordingly.� But know Indiar was on the defensive, and Efrate saw him concentrating his all to change the battle back into his favor.� You cannot win by merely defending Stalker would have said.� He who holds the offensive holds and edge.� Knowing that he could not beat the guild leader in regular form to form combat, he started watching for any crack he might slip through.� No one was perfect, not even Stalker, or so the Spectre claimed, though he had as of yet failed to discern any opening in his teacher.� So he watched, and waited.� Form met form in a seemingly endless struggle between the two.� The Flame Roars was stopped by the Icicle Falling; Lightning Strikes countered by Wind on the Mountaintop.� Through the furious exchange of strikes, Efrate watched and waited.� Then he saw his opening.� So small none but a master would detect it, and hard to take advantage of with this type of blade, but he could do it.� When Indair swung to his own right, he had a small gap in his stance that would allow a single strike through.� His opponent didn�t seem to notice, so he guessed it was an error in how he was trained.� All he had to do was lead the forms and he could do that easily enough since he was the attacker.� He must have betrayed something because Indair started attempting not only to met the forms, but to break them.� ����� Efrate�s mind raced but he could still make use of it.� In fact, it might even help him.� He launched a flurry of forms that Indair desperately tried to break through, then feinted with what should have been the form called Reaping the Grain.� As his opponent�s eyes seemed to flicker once betraying what he thought was victory, he let the form dissolve and switched in mid-stance to another.� He sidestepped Water Trickles Off the Leaves and went into Sunlight Through the Clouds bringing his blade to rest at his opponents left side.� If he had followed through he would have ripped the elf in half. ����� �The dance is mine Guild Leader Indair.� You are good, but one thing, if I may?� he waited for the elf�s stammered yes before continuing.� �I noticed that when you swing to your right,� here he demonstrated, shifting his natural posture for the guild leader�s improper one.� It felt wrong but he did it and stopped midway.� �There is a gap for one blow with a blade of this type.�� He pointed to the spot on his lower left that he couldn�t cover.� �No one can stop a blade going there in your current situation. A shorter, stabbing sword would be better able to penetrate the gap but I doubt they�d be able to get close enough.� Correctly, it should be done like this.�� Again he demonstrated, this time as Stalker had taught him, the correct way to cover a small gap such as that.� �So you see,� he concluded, �if you make your attack shallower by a fingersbreadth or two, you are able to recover in time should someone attempt to exploit that.� ����� �You are truly amazing.�� Stammered the guild leader, looking awestruck.� Dead silence still remained, and his next words would be heard across the chamber.� �I have not been defeated since I last fought Sir James, Captain of the Guards at Castle Barron,� and it is well known that he and Sir Clawham are equals for the magus, if not surpassing him.� I offer you,� he paused and gestured to his robe of office, �this guild.� Will you lead us?� You are obviously a superior warrior, and I am able to admit my defeat.� Please, take up the mantle of office and teach us to be better.� ����� Efrate was too stunned to speak.� He had not expected this.� Ignoring his startled expression, Indair continued.� �I made a vow when I took up leadership, as have all the guild leaders since Barros�s time.� If anyone ever defeats us in the guild after issuing a formal challenge, that we will relent our position as the Leader of the Illustrious Fellowship of the Blade.� ����� Efrate desperately thought of a way to escape from this situation, when I caught a snippet of the Undead Tongue from the Shadows.� �We rush the guild leader on three.� Said a voice he knew instantly was not Stalker.� �You take the right flank, you get behind him and I�ll get him from the front.� Ready?� One, two, three!� ����� Three ghosts burst from the shadows barely a stride away and rushed the guild leader, but Efrate was ready.� He drew the black blade Stalker had made for him and stopped the attack of the first.�� He shoved the guild leader into the crowd and cursed as he met the attacks of the other two and sent them aside.� �And why,� he hissed in common, �Did you take it upon yourselves to rush an innocent man when he is indisposed?� ����� Curses in the undead tongue howled at him and the voice he had heard earlier replied �None of your concern human!� Kill him!� You think a blade of darkness can harm the undead?� We�ll teach you your folly!�� The three rushed him again and he moved to intercept the closest one.� He easily broke the form of the ghost and slid his sword through the misty body of his adversary.� He twisted his blade and jerked it upwards and felt a very slight resistance as the ghost was split from navel upwards.� A vapor-like blood sprayed him as the corpse floated towards the ground, but he was moving to stop the other two from harming anyone else.� Knowing the shock of seeing what should have been a harmless blade slay their conspirator would give him a slight advantage, he launched into another form at the second ghost.� It responded with a form that would have broken his but he changed to one of the forms that stalker had invented and that he shared with none but his students.� His blade slid around the others and cut it cleanly in to, separating the vaguely human-like upper half from the lower parts, which tapered to a point below the waist.� Knowing this one too was dead he headed for the one that was the leader, using the same technique as before.� A screening form that should be broken through, then a change to an unknown form, only this time didn�t kill his opponent.� He loped off the sword arm, then the other arm, then scored a deep slice across the ribs that would make any further movement extraordinarily painful, even to the undead. The ghost fell and he placed a foot right over the wound, and his blade at the creature�s throat.� As the blood spurted from the wounds, he asked in common, �Now, why did you attack the guild leader?� On who�s orders?� Speak or I�ll send you to your final death, as I did your friends.� ����� �How?� How did you know?� What is that blade.� ����� �As to how I know, I speak, read, and write eleven tongues fluently, undead included.� As for the blade� ����� �I made it.� That�s why it cuts through undead flesh as easily as any other flesh you can think of.�� Said Stalker as he seemed to flow out of the shadows.� Though he had all the parts of a human, and they were solid, he still moved with an unmatched grace.� To stunned to do anything he dropped his blade to the side of the ghost and fell to his knees, such was the shock that overcame him. ������ �And who are you?� And why didn�t I see you in the shadows?� No one escapes my notice!� ������ �Then I am no one, to you at least.� But others know me as Stalker, Grand High Marshal-General of the Goddess of All Power�s Army, or so I was, when I lead the Elementals and the forces of the good to seal her evil sister.� Perhaps you�ve heard of me?� ������ �But� I thought you were dead!� exclaimed the ghost, a deep fear in his eyes.� Murmurs arose from the crowd.� The guild leader was just now beginning to stand. Apparently he had acted quite fast in disposing of the would-be assassins, thought Efrate numbly.� All the talk of staying hidden and then a living - well, partially living, he amended to himself � legend shows up in the middle of the guild.� There had to be at least three hundred people here.� ������ �Well I am dead.� Undead.� Said Stalker with a sardonic smile.� He turned to Efrate and a stern frown spread over his face.� �Pick up you blade young one.� I taught you better than that.� How am I ever going to make you a warrior if you cannot even keep old of your blade at a slight shock.�� His teacher�s gaze switched to the ghost and it became so menacing that even though he now held his weapon he still felt uncomfortable.�� The Spectre�s gaze could stop even a dragon in its flight, or so he had heard.� Just glimpsing it from the side was enough to make Efrate believe that those rumors were far underestimating. ����� �Now then.� Who sent you.� Tell me quickly.� I can make you survive for ages suffering every moment.� I know exactly how much you and your kind can take.� And I have learned many things over the ages, torture one of them.� Now tell me.� Who sent you and why.� ����� �I-I-it was E-e-emperor Zion.� H-h-h-he ordered us to destroy everyone here then burn the place to make it look like and accident.� ����� �That young fool?� Is that why there are about a hundred of your kind sulking around in the shadows?�� The ghost�s eyes widened, but Stalker raised his voice.�������������� �Know this, all of you shadow lurkers.� As long as I am here there is no escape from this place.� Try as you may you will not get out.� All who are here may come forth and be judged.� If I find you innocent I will let you live.� If not, then not.� Will any step forth?� ����� Efrate was looking around, and he caught sight of the indicator that Stalker had instructed him in before he arrived here.� He puzzled out the runes, and saw that there were one hundred and seventeen undead creatures here, one of them being Stalker.� The rest what he would have called �lower brethren�.� Mostly ghosts, and a few zombies, and one demon.� Those were pretty tough odds.� Only four blades here would be able to cut through all of that.� His three, plus stalkers.� Maybe the guild leader�s if it was enchanted.��� He quickly calculated and didn�t like the results.� That means at most five people could fight, with odds of one to twenty three; not exactly an even fight.� Even if only four or eight could come at you effectively at any one time, it was still extreme.� ����� Stalker appeared unfazed.� �Is anyone coming out?�� He asked, then he repeated it again in the undead tongue, in case none of them spoke common.�� Something stirred in the shadows and the demon stepped out.� As tall as an ogre, he appeared to be covered in black scales, with fangs half a stride long and horns twice that curving upwards towards the ceiling.� �Why should we listen to you?� its voice sounded like some unclean thing slithering through dead leaves.� �You are nothing but a puffed up ghost yourself.� How good are you even?� Can you take out all of us?� I doubt it.�� ����� �Efrate.� Said Stalker with deceptive quietness.� He looked and saw a face so blank that it frightened him more than the thought of taking on twenty some opponents at once.� �Lend me your dark blade.� I need exercise, and I think this might be it.� Draw the other and use it to repel anything that tries to sneak and get you.� All of you guild members stay behind my student.� I will be the only one fighting.�� ����� �Stalker that�s insane!� One hundred or so opponents at once?� You�re mad!�� Wailed Efrate.� He had grown attached to the Swordsman over their travels, and didn�t want to see him die some fools death.� ����� The blank face went petrifyingly angry, and Efrate shrunk away.� �I thought you had learned disobedience is futile.� I can make you suffer for eternity too, I know how much you can take.� Now give me the blade and do what your told, or I�ll finish you first then do these others!� ������ The warning was so dire that Efrate found his legs moving of his own accord, saw himself handing him the blade, then walk back and draw his other one.� He couldn�t control his body!� And he knew what that meant.� Stalker was controlling his body!� Damn the thing and its telepathy!� But he could do nothing as everyone did what was asked and stood behind him.� He couldn�t believe it.� ������ �Right then.� All of you who dare to oppose Stalker, Servant and Bodyguard of the Goddess of All Power, come forth!� Test yourself against a true warrior!� Yet before they could lift there blades Stalker launched himself into the assembled.� Ten were lying motionless on the ground before any could get into a true defensive stance.� Then they came, hordes of the undead rushing their brother.� No more than eight could attack at once, and if they tried their attacks were severely limited.� Wielding both blades like the true master he was, Stalker cleaved a path through them all using his own specialized forms.� Efrate watched in astonishment out of a body that he couldn�t control as the creatures lined up, fell, and lined up again.� Sooner than he thought possible it was stalker alone with the demon, who looked decidedly afraid at a one on one encounter with a living, semi-living Efrate corrected, myth.� Stalker smiled grimly as he tossed a blade back to Efrate.� He was released from his paralysis just in time to snag the blade out of the air.� He braced for the first jolt of pain if it wasn�t his, but he felt nothing.� Apparently the Spectre could tell the blades apart, even if he couldn�t except by the pain he got when he wielded the black blade that wasn�t his. ������ �Now little one,� said Stalker to the demon.� Efrate watched as his teacher kicked aside a zombie that was still twitching in its death throws casually and walked over to the demon.� �Heft your weapon and have a try at me, I think it�s a bit fairer odds this time.� ������ The demon lifted an axe and took one step, and then Stalker�s sword slipped in and around the axe and punctured the demon's neck.� It fell to the ground gurgling but Stalker didn�t maim it anymore.� His teacher knew when something was dead.� ������ Everyone but Efrate clamored around Stalker, still amazed at what they saw.� Even the guild leader was gaping in shock.� Had he wished it, he could have killed most of them before they realized what was going on.� For a moment he felt a strong desire to take the mantle of leadership and teach these people who to be a better warrior, but he let the desire slide.� Though he doubted he could have done anything more noticeable now that his teacher had showed himself, he still didn�t want any more attention.� ������ �Are you hurt Lord Stalker?� asked the fairae whose sword he had borrowed earlier.� She seemed to be completely absorbed in inspecting the Spectre.� So, apparently she just went for the strongest man she could find, not too bad a trait but not worth his time after all.� ������ He spoke before his master could, knowingly being rude, but not caring.� �Nothing serious, not on him.� Said Efrate as he walked towards his master.� �A scratch on his shoulder that will heal overnight.� His pride will take a blow hopefully.� Not even you,� he said addressing his teacher �can take that many down alone unscathed.� Not when you were as careless as you were back there.� I almost saw an opening in your guard.� You taught me that no matter if I am fighting a gryphon, dragon, or a child to never lose focus.� You were asking to be hurt.� I wish it was a bit more so you might follow your own advice.� ������ He teacher took it stoically as always, then calmly walked over and slapped Efrate across the face sending him sprawling into the ghost he had dismembered earlier.� Regaining his vision after a brief time with spots filling his eyes, he turned to the ghost and gave it his most wicked smile. ������ �Now since that little matter is taken care of, I ask you again, why so many of you here?� What does Zion intend?� Why would he have you assassinate an entire guild?� He has been free for at least two years, what has he been doing all that time?� ������ The ghost was obviously terrified, but it spoke, lapsing between undead and common.� �One such as I know not his intentions!� it was more of a pleading wail than anything, but Efrate stuck his sword through its abdomen, carefully avoiding anything vital.� The ghost wailed truly this time, making even Efrate shiver.� The dying undead made the most awful sounds.� Jerking his blade out, to another wail, he asked the ghost again. ������ �He has probably been gathering strength for another war!� As for why, all I can say is that I heard something about a stranger who would be here today that might grow enough to cause undue trouble.� We were supposed to get rid of everyone so there would be no impediment to his desires.� That is all I know, I swear it!� ����� Efrate looked to Stalker, and to his horror saw a slight frown on his mentor�s face.� Stalker never showed any emotions other than an occasional sardonic humor, and even that was meant to be seen by whomever he was with.� That frown troubled him more than anything he had ever seen.� ����� �What do you make of it Stalker?� Efrate asked, a quaver in his voice.� ����� �He knew.� I wonder how long he has known.� Curse that being!� How did he find out?� I thought it was known just to myself, the goddess, and the Fire Elemental.� How could he know?� ����� Efrate became a tad nostalgic at the mention of his father, but he pushed the feeling down.� Time for that later.� He assumed that it was about him, but what about him made the greatest sorcerer that ever walked the lands want him dead?� Very troubling thoughts for a warrior who had much more to learn before he stood a chance against any good opponent.� He knew he was being trained for the inevitable war, but what role would he play? ����� At the sound of Stalker�s voice he snapped his thoughts back to the current situation.� �For now,� Stalker said, addressing the mass though he knew it was meant for him, �worry not.� Zion is far away from here, and that is something I can assure you, but you may wish to train harder.�� Who knows when that bastard will show himself.� Hopefully no time soon.� By the way, I want no word of myself or my student to leave these walls.� If I find that it does, then the culprit will be hunted down and destroyed very painfully.� Am I understood?�� At his tone, everyone nodded hurriedly, even the guild leader and several others who should have better control. ����� �Take this message to Zion.� Said Stalker as he approached the ghost.� �I know his whereabouts and have scouted his lair.� I personally forbid him to take any action against the people of Aurora.� If he does, let him know he will be swiftly and surely dealt with.� This I mandate.�� The ghost did the only thing he could in that circumstance, he nodded, picked up his severed parts and vanished, hopefully back to the lair of Zion. ����� �Now then.� Said Stalker, taking as friendly a tone as he ever did, �We need to go, Efrate?� ����� But Efrate shook his head.� �I have my honor to regain from that slap, and to atone for my rudeness.� I challenge you master.� ����� �Do you now?� said Stalker wryly.� �This shall be interesting.� I take it you do not want me to hold back?� ����� �Please don�t.� If you give me a minute to prepare I will be with you shortly.� Gorin?� he raised his voice and the dwarf came forward a look of skepticism in his eyes.� Switching to Dwarven and speaking lowly, he asked �Might you hold my things for me?� I need every advantage I can get if I plan to live past the first attack.� ����� �Aye, I will.� Said the dwarf, �but what have ye that might hinder you?� I see nothing except those blades you have on you.� ����� Smiling secretly Efrate removed all his blades and their sheaths, keeping the one Stalker forged bare and next to him.� Then he proceeded to remove his harness that was attached to his back, then, to everyone but Stalker�s surprise, he started taking off his clothing. ����� �What?� asked Gorin amazed as piece after piece of cloth with Mithril sewn throughout, but so well knit that unless he wanted people around him to see they wouldn't.� The crowd gasped as they realized the implications.� This man had defeated the top swordsmen in the guild, including the guild leader, took on three ghosts at once and routed them, all while in medium weight armor?� He looked about and saw everyone looking at him like some strange creature whom they do not anything of that has suddenly taken up residence in their homes.� ����� In moments he was stripped down to trousers and a loose shirt, and he removed his shirt also, bring startled gasps from the crowd.� The elvan lasses looked politely away, the fairaes acted like they did also yet still cast sidelong glances at him, and the sylphes openly stared at him.� Apparently not many men came in the guild and stripped.� He supposed that his skill also played part but guessed that was his own wishful thinking.� He suspected he was handsome to most women, and that likely was the deciding factor. ����� Blanking his mind of nothing but Stalker and their swords he approached his teacher.� The guild leader was going to officiate supposedly, so he took up stance and waited.� Hoping he might manage to actually strike his teacher this time, he readied himself and prepared a store of Stalker�s forms to start with.� He stood no chance with merely traditional forms.� ����� At Indair�s signal he rushed his teacher, hoping some small amount of surprise might be on his side.� Of course, he was wrong.� Stalker easily countered the form and took up the attacker�s role.� Efrate managed to parry the first form without giving ground and launch a counterattack, but it was met and he was set back on the defensive.� He desperately warded of blows with all the skill, luck, and hope he could muster, but he knew it was a losing battle.� He could not control the offensive and he knew that he was going to be finished.� Stalker was as of yet toying with him still, and he howled out for his teacher to stop holding back.� He knew he was finished because as soon as he did that his teacher came on full force.� His defense was split as easily as those undead earlier, and he was wide open.� He knew he was defeated even before the flat of the blade made its first connection with his skin.� He tried and tried to make something of it but he was drubbed around the guild hall as if he were a mouse being toyed with by a cat.� More like a tiger and a mouse, he thought as he finally collapsed.� He felt the blade press into his neck, and managed to gasp �I yield.� Between ragged breaths.� He was covered in sweat from head to toe, and though he didn�t feel hot, he still hurt all over.� His eyes flared red briefly as he pondered the foolishness of this body, then they slide back to blue as he gave up.� He couldn�t walk around like he would at home here.� He just hoped no one saw that.� He could not afford to reveal his identity, not yet. ����� His mentor took away his blade and sheathed it as Efrate rose to his feet.� �You lasted for a whole two minutes that time.� I�m impressed.� That�s a new record by a good half a moment.� You did well at the start, but you failed to attempt a counterattack to take the offensive after the first half.� I was breaking your forms but you should have at least thrown something at me.� One day you may actually strike me, you have the best potential I have ever seen.� With work you may surpass Barros.� I think� ����� Suddenly Stalker stopped and looked immediately towards the darkest shadow in the room.� Efrate was puzzled but he saw a flare that was almost exactly like Stalkers on the indicator.� Troubled immensely by this, he looked to he teacher to see him tighten his grip upon his blade momentarily. ����� �Which one?� was all Stalker asked as he peered at the deep shadow. ����� �Don�t worry brother.� It is I, Dalonius� said a voice similar to Stalkers as his teacher�s near mirror image stepped into the light.� ����� Stalker sheathed his sword and motioned for everyone to back away.� All but Efrate did.� He saw a minor tightening of Stalkers eyes, which meant he was supposed to also, but he took a step forward.� This was the neutral Spectre, the one who would never choose a side to help or hurt.� He need fear nothing from it.� Or so he hoped. ����� �You look well Master Dalonius.� Said Efrate stepping up besides Stalker.� �Your armor seems even darker in places, impossible as that may be.� How long has it been?� ����� �Ah the young one.� At least he seems civil, and he is not even of our blood.� Well, then again, oh nevermind, that is for later.� You should be nicer to your little brother Stalker.� ����� �I don�t need to little brother.� It�s a right of the Eldest.� I see you have found some since we last met a year and a half ago.� I take it you are here for the same reason as I then?� ����� Efrate didn�t know what Dalonius had found, but Stalker seemed angry, and his brother smug.� He didn�t know how he knew, there was no change in expression, but he felt it.� He could try to pry it out of his teacher later, but he doubted he�d have any success.� He didn�t like the tension he felt building here though; a match between these two could very well level a city.� He had seen it before, and it was frightening to behold, while beautiful at the same time. ����� To stop his mind from racing, he started to speak again, but Stalker cut him off.� �I do not suppose you came to tell me of the death of Evlani?� Aurora would be a much better place without that blemish.� Or without the youngest for that matter.� ����� �Our other true brother is doing well, in service of Zion.� The fourth seems inactive for the time being, but I dared not stay too long when I watched him, I do not wish to fight family as he would.� ����� �Evlani is serving Zion?� And you didn�t do anything about it?� Have you gone mad?� Stalker was genuinely angry, which was very frightening to Efrate, and though he was petrified at the thought of possibly facing another Stalker in true combat, he felt it necessary to interject to forestall any fighting.� He didn�t know who the youngest was, but it seemed bad.� That he would get out of Stalker.� He thought only three of these beings walked the earth.� To have another would be more trouble than he cared to imagine. ����� �Master Dalonius, this is indeed grave news, we thank you telling us, but I have a feeling that there is more to your trip here than that.� Might it not be too troubling to inform us?� Or at least, inform Stalker.� You are family after all.� ����� Dalonius chuckled and grabbed his upper arms as he walked back into the shadows.� �What I know is for no ears to hear, as it always was.� Evlani�s tale was merely a sidetrack to my true purpose, and I always like to watch these children play.� I�d duel you brother, but I have more important things to do.� Evlani has a few pieces of it, but the youngest has forsaken it.� He has goil.� So much for fairness between family eh?�� With a dry laugh Dalonius went back into the shadows.� �Heal up and we can have some real practice.� I don�t want the slightest injury on you, I dislike an unfair advantage.� We�ll met again soon.� Farewell for now, brother.� ����� Stalker seemed to relax as the warding flickers slightly, indicating he was the only undead of his stature in the guild at the moment.� Efrate was horribly frightened but managed to control it somehow.� Anything that made his master tense had to be terrifying.� ����� �He has goil.� Muttered Stalker, for the first time ever seemingly unaware that he was speaking his thoughts.� �Of all of us, why did he have to acquire that cursed metal?� And I have no pieces of the other.� What does that bode for when I next meet up with Evlani?� And Dalonius is searching for it also, and he is here.� Have I waited to long?� I thought I moved as soon as the Young One was ready.� ����� Efrate watched his teacher nervously as the undead warrior muttered and rambled in a combination of undead, ancient, and common, and after some time he ventured a question �Stalker, what are you talking about?� Is not your purpose here to guide me to the correct places?� He spoke in undead to insure the least amount of people would understand him, but even so he kept his voice low.� ������ The Spectre snapped to attention then and for the briefest moment surprise was in those eyes.� That frightened Efrate even more, seeing his master unready, if only for an instant.� Another axiom of Stalkers was that there were three kinds of people: those who were always ready, those who were waiting for someone to kill them, and the dead. ����� �You are not fit to know all I do, you are not ready and will not be for a long time.� I am your teacher, and you do not question me.� Or have you forgotten the first thing I taught you?� ����� �I am sorry Master Teacher.� I will keep my thoughts to myself.�� Efrate answered in Ancient to match his teacher�s tongue.� ����� �It is best if you have no thoughts of the sort Young One.�� Efrate answered affirmatively, but he amended to himself that he would regardless of what his teacher said. ����� �I know not what you speak of, � ventured Indiar into the silence, �but I know enough not to say anything in this matter, for it is not mine to know.� Lord Stalker, Efrate, might you journey with me to my office?� We have matters to discuss I think. Swordsman Elnrhode, will you take my class please?� I was speaking of the folly of improper stances, ironic as that may be.� ����� Elnrhode nodded and came from his position from the doorway into the center of the hall.� He took up the lecture after an instruction from the guild leader for the students to remain and attend.� ����� �We shall speak then.�� Said Efrate carefully with a look at his teacher who nodded, still lost in thought.� �Oh, and Master Indiar?�� About the magus?� You said two out of ten?� ����� �Yes,� The elf said, confusion on his face. ����� �Four out of ten.�� Efrate smiled as the guild leader did also.� Stalker scoffed.� ����������������������������������������������������� * * * * * ����� The journey to the office of the Guild Master was done in absolute silence except for the scrape of boots and the floor, and Stalker didn�t even make that.� The seriousness with which the Guild Leader had spoken troubled Efrate, and the walk made him decidedly uncomfortable.� Stalker seemed lost in thought also, and that also troubled him, much more than the Guild Leaders silence.� He was almost squirming with uneasiness when the doors to Indiar�s office closed behind him.� He felt Stalker ward the room, absentmindedly again, and his uneasiness swelled.� What in the world had the Spectre in such a state? ����� �Now Efrate, we must talk.� Said the elf, sitting behind his desk after offering seats to both his guests.� Efrate remained standing.� Stalker didn�t appear to hear.� �As I said before, the guild is yours.� You defeated me in solemn challenge, and as tradition warrants, you are now the leader.� I called you here to discuss what my position shall be now, and to show you your new chambers.�� A questioning look filled Indiar�s elvan face, and something which seemed to hope he would not be shut out all together. ����� Expecting something horrendously different, Efrate could not help but laugh.� Even Stalker seemed shaken out of his reverie by the sound emanating from his student.� The look of utter puzzlement on the guild leader�s face almost made Efrate laugh again but he managed to gain some control over himself.� When he thought of his charge to stay unknown, he lost his mirth, but an idea surfaced almost immediately that solved the problem. ����� �I cannot, Master Indiar.� Said Efrate, beaming with thanks that he had found a way out of this situation.� �I did not issue the challenge, you did.� Therefore, I cannot be held by tradition to take the mantle of leadership.� Also, it was far from a formal challenge, as you will well agree.� ����� �But sir,� the elf replied, �You are more worthy of the leadership than I am.� If Sir Clawham and Lord James were not of such importance to the King and the country, they would lead.� Regardless of the challenge, the one who is most fit must lead, else chaos would eventually ensue.� You are obviously better than I am, so the robe of office should lie on you shoulders.� ����� �But I have other matters to attend to.� I have yet to enroll in the sorcerer�s guild, and I did not come to teach but to learn.� I have other duties as well, some which even I do not know of yet.� a glare from his teacher said he had said too much, but he pressed the issue though he felt Stalker�s gaze boring holes in his head.� �I very humbly thank thee for the offer, but I would not know the first thing about managing a class, let alone a guild.� Please, I beg you, withdraw your offer.�� He wished his teacher would assist him, but that slip of the tongue apparently had earned the silent treatment.� He would obviously feel the full brunt of Stalker�s anger later, but for now he was safe.� He hoped. ����� �Again with all respect Sir Efrate,� ����� �Just Efrate please, I am not a knight.� ����� �Well then Efrate, what could we teach you?� You are being taught by the greatest warrior of all time, and have spent time with the Magus also.� What can I possibly teach you, or anyone else here excepting you teacher, that you do not already know?� ����� �That is simple.� I have no experience at all with fighting with more than one person.� And my teacher doesn�t really count since I am not capable of fighting with him, only of fighting hopefully well enough to stay alive before he can slaughter whatever faces us.� Either that or I fight alone, and always with infallible support should I need it.� I know nothing of group or army fighting, and a war is brewing.� I plan on joining the military here, once the time is right,� again a look from Stalker.� His teacher thought he was saying too much, but he could trust the guild leader.� He hoped.� �I wish to know something before being recruited, as I believe is necessary except in the heat of war, and that is hopefully a slight while off.� I will consent to teach some classes, if you insist, but I do not know anything about teaching, only being taught.� I cannot take the role of guild leader though.� Please, let us forget it was ever mentioned.� ����� Indiar had remained silent through his tirade, but now he seemed to be arguing with himself.� At last the elf sighed, and agreed to Efrate�s terms.� To ease the tension in the room, for the guild leader still, from his honor Efrate suspected, wanted Efrate to take the position that was rightfully his, he talked to Indiar in elvan about the travels he had made, and inquired to the guild leader�s hometown and what it was like.� After a short while Stalker interrupted, finally having finished his inner debate also.� He explained how to read the runes about the undead to the guild leader, who seemed surprised that they even existed.� Once that was over, they discussed Efrate�s rank and lesson plan for the time being. ����� �We are very short on competent teachers right now, or even competent swordsmen.� The last handful of years, everyone has thought the threat of war was over, with Zion sealed, and the people we get now are mostly lesser nobles or rich merchants children who want to do something while they wait for their family�s trade or lands to fall into their hands.� Very few people come here now because they want to be a swordsman, or want to defend themselves.� The patrols cut down the hostile creatures in the area, and with our long-standing alliance with the dragons and the proximity of the castle, nothing dares to wander the streets.� I have few members whom I consider to be anything worthwhile, the dwarf who brought you to the central chamber, Gorin I believe?� And Elnrhode, a fairae or two, and possible a few of the monsters who know what they are about.� Less than ten whom I would consider to be good warriors who are around the city, with more out traveling the world.� If we were struck now, the castle would be reached in short order.� A lot of the military is out on leave also from what I understand.� We can survive most things, but if a planned attack were to be launched against us, we would fail miserably.� Especially now with Zion released.� I fear I must speak to Lord James or the King and inform them of this.� ����� �Worry not.�� Said Stalker, appearing fully in control of himself, thank the Goddess.� �I plan on going to the castle later tonight, about the time of evening court.� I might take on James and Clawham, been a while since I faced them.� I will inform them and the King, so you need not worry.� Just make sure your people know what they are about.� War is coming, and it is not that far off.� Be ready.� ����� Indiar said he would, of course, and after some more pleasantries, Stalker said they needed to go, and of course the elf had to agree.� As they were about to leave, two questions occurred to Efrate and he asked the guild leader. ����� �The shrine district and the sorcerers guild?� You�re a mage as well as a swordsman?� And you are Faithful?� Nothing less than I�d expect of one of Lord Stalker�s student I suppose.� By Zelious�s wind yer a complicated one.�� Shrines are to the north-west, follow the road outside until you see the monument to the Elementals from the war thirty years ago.� From there you should be able to see Dios�s shrine, and from that just follow the path of shrines and you�ll eventually find the one you are looking for.� The sorcerer�s guild is due north of Dimu�s shrine, a great black tower.� Can�t miss it.� See you tomorrow morning at first light for your orientation.� Let me know of your schedule then and we�ll work classes around it.� I wish you luck Efrate.� ������ He had a sickening feeling that he�d need that all too soon. �������������������������������������������������� * * * * * ������ Stalker faded into the shadows right before they reached the great hall again, leaving Efrate to wander the town seemingly alone.� He knew his teacher was there though, and he was just waiting for the Spectre�s chastising he knew was on it way.� Hopefully it�d dissipate before he was alone with the undead swordmaster.� He knew it wouldn�t, but he could hope.� ����� As he turned north-west onto the broad avenue outside the Swordsman�s Guild he realized he has not yet secured lodgings for his stay in Barron.� He could not sleep on the streets, or rather he could, he had stayed in rougher places before, but a nice fire and a bed would be refreshing after so long on the road.� He�d just ask at the sorcerer�s guild.� He assumed the guilds had lodging for students, or at least could find them a place that was relatively close.� And cheap he hoped.� He did not have piles of coin.� In fact, all the money he had was a gift from the Magus of Fire.� Flalorandoro was a fairly poor but a generous man, but he also had little use for coin in the lower realm.� He had one item of value, his pin that declared him Master of the Flames, but he would never give that up.� It was the first material thing he has ever been given besides his black blade.� ����� That reminded him of a question he had and as he trudged along he spoke lowly in the Undead tongue, knowing Stalker could hear him.� �So how did you know which blade was mine and which was yours back there after your little display.� I thought they were identical except for the attunement.� ����� Easy Young One, replied the Spectre telepathically, by the pain. ����� Efrate stumbled and bumped into a goblin, which cursed at him in common before gathering his things and moving on.� So, whenever Stalker handled Efrate�s blade he felt pain?� The same pain that Efrate felt that one time he touched Stalkers blade.� He stammered the question in a hybrid of the ancient and undead tongues, only to hear a soft snicker for an answer. ����� That is what attunement means.� When I attune a blade to you or anyone, anyone else that touches that blade suffers, and suffers badly.� That is what attunement is all about.� I thought I had explained it before?� Have you forgotten?� You know how I treat you when a lesson is forgotten. ����� Again struck with shock, he almost stumbled into a Sylphe but managed to catch himself in time.� The one time he had touched Stalker�s blade briefly, he had been so smitten with pain that he could not move for almost an hour, and then it was still painful to move all that much.� He muttered that he had not forgotten, and added a question as to how anyone could stand that much pain.� He thought he heard a sigh. ���� In the Great War, right after the Goddess of all Power was split from her other half by a giant falling crystal in her palace, I faced the Nameless One.� The Goddess was too hurt to do anything, so it was me and my sword, which I knew virtually nothing of at the time, versus the evil side.� I would like to say I at least put up a decent resistance, but that would be sorely deluding myself.� The only reason I am here today is because Htebazile tortured me.� She kept me alive, or undead I guess one would say, right at the brink of my existence being snuffed out.� For hours I was helpless, maybe even days or weeks, it seemed to last forever, merely a toy for her sadistic pleasure.� In the end, it was her own greed for the pain of others that saved me.� I could feel her getting bored, and knew I was about to painfully annihilated, when another crystal that had been loosened in the split fell and stabbed her through her breast.� Of course it didn�t kill her, much to all of life�s chagrin, but it hurt her enough that she fled.� The Goddess managed to come to enough to safeguard herself, and me while she also recovered.� She sealed her home and went into a deep sleep.� She awoke a few months later, and my brothers were made. Shortly after the Elementals came into existence, and so began the greatest terror Aurora shall ever face. Holding an attuned blade, even fighting with it, is nothing after that. Efrate winced at the thought, and he was glad when the monument to the Elementals appeared ahead of him. Made just after the end of the Second Great War as it was now called, it depicted the Elementals in all their glory, shoving Zion into the void where he was locked, supposedly for all eternity. Pride welled up into him, and his eyes turned red briefly as he savored the feeling of bloodlust that came upon him thinking of what it must have felt like to seal that creature away. His eyes returned to a deeply vivid blue as he remembered that that prison had not held the creature as it should have. Now feeling overly solemn, he saw the Shrine of Dios and headed towards it. From there he saw Freliz�s and went towards it, then Zelious�s, and then Ifrite�s. He rushed towards the shrine of the Elemental of Fire and found several of the Faithful around the pit in which a blaze seemingly hotter than the sun was burning. The heat made him ecstatic, and he drunk it in gladly. �Stranger are ye of the Faith of the Flames?� someone said behind him, and Efrate turned from that wondrous blaze to face him. A human in ceremonial red robes had asked the question, and Efrate quickly said he was. After the man welcomed him to Barron, he asked Efrate�s name. The man�s eyebrows rose at the name, and he did not offer his. �You name yourself closely after the being whose Shrine this is, you are either incredibly arrogant, incredibly foolish, or extremely faithful. Will you descend to meditate?� Efrate smiled greatly and he agreed. It had been a long time since his last communal. He hesitated a moment to see if Stalker would make an objection, but from the shadows ahead of him he discerned a shape briefly and a nod, and his course was set. The man took him around to the other side of the fire and called the people around the fire to witness the event. �This man, calling himself Efrate, is prepared to prove his worthiness of his name. He is about to descend, who will bear witness?� All the people gathered stepped forward, drawing even closer to the blaze, sweat popping out on their faces. �We all shall witness then.� The man continued. �Disrobe and enter the flames stranger. Test your faith!� Still grinning Efrate stripped, and the females around the fire watched eagerly. Ifrite was also the sovereign of lust, and clearly the people here were practicing that aspect of worship as well. The man showed him the stairs, and he almost ran forward down them, into the fire. A gasp rose from some who forgot themselves, but Efrate paid them no heed. As he entered the fire a wave of bliss ran over him. He continued down the stairs to the bottom, into the heart of the fire. His skin was unaffected, of course, and all he felt was bliss. No flame could sear him, even in this body. Once he had entered the heart of the fire, and he was sure no one could even hope to see him, he changed. Stalker and his father called it reverting, he was just glad to be as he was born. A body made of flame with what seemed to be a vaguely humanoid form of water underneath was how he looked now, was what he was. He drunk in the flames, the heat and fire never diminishing because they had been set by Ifrite, Elemental of Fire. His father. He continued to drink in the flames, filling himself with an unfathomable ecstasy, then he reached out, something he had always done and had never known how he did it. Even his father was unsure, but he knew how. He reached into the flames set by his father 30 years ago, traveling south, ever south, and sought out Ifrite. After a while he found him. Ifrite of Fire appeared next to him, traveling from his home in a magical volcano on the southernmost point of Aurora. He felt overjoyed at seeing his father, and his coloring changed to indicate happiness. In this body he did not need facial expressions, his coloring carried volumes of emotion that no word, song, or expression could ever convey. �Efrate!� his father exclaimed, embracing his Son. Flowing into another Elemental was always a momentous experience, as much more than close contact with a human was than his coloring was in comparison to human facial expressions. �It has been a long time, glad to see you! Where are you and how is everything?� �Things are going well Father! I am in Barron with Stalker now, though the city will be talking about me for a while it seems, hopefully none will recognize me that much.� He related the events of the day to his father who alternatively showed humor, concern, and amazement. Something seemed a little off in his father�s colors though, and Efrate asked what. Ifrite�s coloring changed slightly to indicate anxiety over being found out, but then changed to humor once more. �Stalker is teaching you to be more observant it seems. Well, yesterday the Force of Water showed up.� Efrate�s color turned a flat yellow when he heard that. Forces were Htebazile�s equivalent to the Elementals. Not as strong, though not much weaker, they had been sealed in different locations than Zion, to avoid him releasing them as easily. It looked like they had not been sealed good enough. Wondering how his Father had survived the meeting, he asked, concern welling up in him. Ifrite gave the Fire Elemental equivalent of laughing, a joyous crimson overtaking his form, though it had enough orange to be forced. Though not much. �Well there is one less Force now. That fool had the nerve to attempt to harm me in my home. There was no way I could have lost. No amount of water can take all the heat I put out and still hold together. Especially with an unlimited well of power under me. Stupid Forces, being twice sealed must had addled their wits.� Efrate�s color turned to a concerning orange, but he was happy also because his dad was safe. �Still, you must be in pain even though you defeated it. Only 13 Forces left now thankfully. Which one did you kill?� �I�ll bet Mother would have a few things to say to that.� said Efrate joining his Father in mirth. �How is the old bag anyway son? I haven�t talked to her in some time.� �Old bag? You are older than she is, if only by moments. And I don�t know how she is, heading to her Shrine after this one. And I�m telling her you called her that. She can handle you even if she has to spank you like an insolent child. She probably has before knowing your attitude!� �How did you find out that?� said Ifrite, then colored a deep crimson of embarrassment. Efrate would have rolled on the floor laughing if he had been in his human form. �Yes yes yes. I admit it. She has spanked me before. But only because I let her!� �My so defensive Father. And I bet more than one time she did it and you didn�t let her. We both know she has a mean streak. Quite surprising in a Water Elemental.� His father laughed with him again, for quite a long time. �Aye, Water Elemental she is, but she is a woman also. Sometimes I don�t think the Goddess herself could tell which takes precedence. Also, speaking of women, when are you mother and I going to have some Grand-Elementals? Who was that little wind and water thing I saw you with before you left, Cindy? Well, when you going to go see the Goddess and get approval to have a child or eight? I�m several thousand millenia old already, I need to be a Grandfather.� �Flames, you�ll never change. God of Lust in truth. And as for progeny, once Aurora is safe and I have some time, then we�ll see. Calm down. Go for a dip in the sea. It�s only boiling, maybe it�ll cool you off.� �Ha! I am not leaving this place until I get some strength back. That Force couldn�t really hurt me but I am very exhausted. Takes a lot out of you when you have to make water burn. That�s not too easy even for me. I sent word to the other Elementals via Ghesmal, and to Agarithia via your pet. He wanted to go so I let him. That�s a good little dragon you got there. Not really little, its almost full grown, but still.� They talked for a while of home, training, and other things. Then Efrate remember he had other things to do, and made his farewell. He embraced his father once more and got up to go. �One more thing son. Be careful out there. Zion is no fool, nor is he a weakling. And remember to become human again before you walk out of the fire. Don�t want too many people knowing you are there yet. You will do well.� And with that, Ifrite of Fire vanished back to his home to rest up. Efrate resumed human form and smiled as he started back up the stairs. Everyone was waiting as he emerged, and he suffered himself to be ogled as he dressed again. The man in the robe came at him smiling enthusiastically. After apologies for doubting Efrate, he gave his name, Jarm. Jarm was one of the true Faithful in Barron, and he lead the worship on the day of fire. The highest in their order was a wizard who dwelled west of the city in the Savior�s Forest. Jarm invited Efrate to come with him too met the man, but he declined. After another round of apologies Jarm let him go. Efrate followed the shrines again, this time seeking Madrid�s. He found it quickly, and he saw Dimu�s in the distance. Thankfully there were no worshippers this time, which was well considering it was the day of Fire. He kept his things about him until he was well under the water. He stripped and changed again, leaving his things a ways down in the pool. At the bottom he searched for his mother, and found her much faster than he had his father. She must have been in the area. �Efrate!� she yelped, clearly pleased when she materialized next to him. She was almost glowing with happiness, and Efrate was embarrassed. Over a score of summers had passed since his birth, but his mother still thought of him as a child. He said as much and she agreed. �You are still a child, and an irresponsible one at that! Maybe once you reach around ten thousand years you�ll develop enough sense to be considered fully grown. You shouldn�t worry me so much, I haven�t spoken to you or Stalker in quite some time.� She continued to berate him, being falsely stern, but eventually she let the fa�ade drop and spoke of events that had been happening. The fact that a Force had fought her husband worried and angered her, and he was suddenly very glad he was not his father. She would definitely take some of her anger out on him. An angry woman was one of the things he religiously avoided whenever possible. They were frightening, his mother more than most. He told her of the events of the day so far, and his plans. She listened attentively, calmly taking it all in. Though he was chastised for disregarding Stalker�s commands so blatantly. You should listen to him, Madrid lectured him, he knows what he is about. To forestall her mothering any more, he told her about Ifrite�s remarks about her, which brought something very close to laughter. �Well then, old bag am I? And he let me punish him�well, we�ll make sure his thinking is corrected on that matter. I think I�ll move in with him for a while, nurse him back to health my way. He regret those words.� Her she giggled. That sound seemed decidedly odd coming from his mother, but her coloring indicated it was nothing but the truth. His mother, one of the strongest and fiercest warriors he has ever known, giggled. It was a rather frightning thought. Water was not supposed to be fickle and fey, it was supposed to be strong and constant. His father�s words came to him then. Water Elemental she is, but she is also a woman. He said as much as his mother giggled again. �He is right. Woman I am, and he knows it. And enjoys it.� �Mom?! Please!� He exclaimed, his coloring turned such a shade of outraged embarrassment that he almost felt heat as if he was human and blushing. That was not something a mother talked about with her son, woman, Elemental, Goddess, or otherwise. �What?� She asked with mock confusion and innocence. Confused and innocent were two thing Madrid definitely wasn�t despite everything else. She giggled again, causing Efrate to turn a darker red than he thought possible. �You father has corrupted me. I�ve been taken by lust.� Here again she giggled. Efrate roared his embarrassment, and he was sure someone up above stumbled when they heard it. Again giggling, Madrid thankfully let the subject drop, and replaced it with one that was almost as embarrassing. �Your Father was right about one thing though. I want some grand babies. Cindy was around her just the other day asking questions about you. Maybe I should send her to you? I�ll petition the Goddess on your behalf and see if I can get her to bless Cindy with the capacity to have a child or seven. How about it? Something to take your mind off of training.� He stammered a refusal, again feeling decidedly uncomfortable and embarrassed. He did not know how to say it, but he did not think he loved Cindy. Maybe he had once, but he doubted it. He didn�t say that to his mother of course, he deflected the topic the same way he did with his father. He had more important things to do for the time being. She finally acceded to his point, and made farewells. She was going to see Ifrite to punish him for not telling her about the Force. He silently wished his father well, and hoped she would not overstress Ifrite and hurt him anymore than he already was. She embraced him once and then went away, and Efrate gathered his things, changed back to a human and got dressed. He swam out of the pool and was meet upon emerging by a few people who had wondered what the yelp they had heard was. He assured them he was fine he had just stubbed a toe on the way down, and they seemed to want to know more but did not press a stranger. He silently thanked them for that.He began to walk towards Dimu�s shine, and he heard a low noise from the shadows on his right. He walked close to them, and waited for his teacher to speak. �Young one, I shall speak to my friends in their shrines also. Get quarters in the sorcerer�s guild. They have them and only require you to sign a contract and bind yourself to them. Make sure you read the terms, they are in a state of flux almost constantly. We may make a surprise appearance at Castle Barron soon. I�ll find you on the morrow. Be awake by predawn.� And be ready for anything as always. Stalker would never say that aloud to him, but it was always implied. He continued to run Stalker�s various lessons through his mind as he arrived at Dimu�s shrine and saw the great black tower of the sorcerer�s guild due north. Turning towards it he prepared his story of half-truths for the questioning he knew he would have to endure. As soon as Efrate walked into the guild he felt energy. The tower was buzzing with excitement about something. Curious, he slowly walked past a pair of elves speaking excitedly in a mixture of common and elvan, and caught a snippet of conversation. ��it was to the southwest, past the Savior�s Forest I tell you! , It was wondrous!� said the first. He had a small pointed beard that was so pale a blonde that it was silver, though he was young. He was bouncing with eagerness. �Aye, it was beyond the Savior�s Forest , but I think it was closer to the Plains of Bone.� The second had light brown hair long enough to completely cover the pointed ears that were his race�s distinguishing feature. �Regardless, I have not felt that much energy since the Second Great War when Zion was sealed!� Said the first. �I wonder which Elementals were here?� The other nodded in agreement. Efrate noticed his coloring changing in what the humans called a blush. He had gotten a little carried away when that troupe of Werebeasts arrived, but he did think he had unleashed enough energy to have it felt here. Remembering how he collapsed helpless afterwards though, he re-evaluated the circumstances. Hopefully no one recognized his name here despite that, he could not afford to reveal that yet. He wanted, no, he needed to earn his honors and place in Barron, not be given them because of his parents. A part of him laughed at that last thought. You are a god too, it said to him, so if you do not deserve it, who does? He ruthlessly quashed the thought. He had not done anything the Elementals were famous for, so he had no right to presume anything. He did not help his Aunt Cani create the dragons, nor did he help his kin seal Zion in the two wars. He was nothing more than a swordsman, sorcerer, and one of the Faith. Keep telling yourself that and you may one day believe it. He really hated that voice. Keeps me acting correctly though, he admitted to himself. The irony of that amused him to no end. Shaking his thoughts away, he approached an old wizened human sitting at a desk with a large tome in front of him. The Way of Energy, according to the spine, and written in Ancient from the looks of it. The old sorcerer seemed to be having trouble with it. He likely new little of reading the Ancient tongue. The runic style bore little relation to the way a word was spoken. He was glad it was his first tongue. �Good sir, I wish to join the Sorcerer�s Guild, might you be able to assist me?� The old man jumped at the sound of his voice and cursed loudly. Apparently his thoughts had been scattered by the interruption. �That was wonderful, almost had it worked out and now some stripling comes in and is going to make me start all over. And its not �Good sir� its Tylk. I�m old enough that I don�t need you youngins callin� me sir to make me feel any older.� The man would have kept on talking but Efrate was busy examining the spell book. �Ahersik, aslik, pleain bedour.� He read. �Life, Death, power it holds. Inshin uo foghi, inshin uo ji u. To control one must know, to know one must be one.� Turning to Tylk he said �To control health and harm you must be able to make yourself one with the energy inside that which you wish to control. A link must be made, and then you must reach into the person latent energy and manipulate it in whichsoever may you desire. You need to have contact with the being or with something that is linked to the being to work this spell.� Tylk seemed speechless, but he recovered quickly, an odd light in his eyes. �I see! Thank you sir, I think I know how you deciphered that now. This will be most enlightening!� The old man seemed to be lost for a moment, a vague look overcame him, followed by more insight. �Oh yes, joining us. Yes yes yes. How are you called? And how did you read that so easily?� �I am Efrate of no surname. As for the reading, I speak, read, and write eleven tongues frequently. I assume you are this Guild�s equivalent to the Master Clerk?� �Efrate, Efrate, Efrate, where have I heard that before� hmm� oh well no matter it will come to me eventually. And I am the current man on duty this day, though I am called the Master of Doors. I shall open the first door for you, and through that door will your fate be made. The other doors you must find the keys within and without to open. Eleven hmm? You�ll be put to scribing very soon then I take it. Very few of us speak more than five languages well, and we read and write no more than three for the most part. Come let us see what we can do for you.� Tylk took out a large key ring and walked Efrate to a nondescript door partly down the hall. �Through this door Efrate of no Surname you will find the first Doorman. His name is Zerb. Answer him truthfully and quickly, and he will take you to your next destination, where you shall need to find your first key.� Here he paused and got another vague look on his face. �Yes yes. All that really means is that he will measure your knowledge and take you to a master of this or that who will ask some more questions and so on and so forth until we can ascertain how much you know. You seem like a bright lad, so it shouldn�t be too bad. Just be honest, and be quick. We all have very important things to do. Rather, we have things to do which we say are important but really are just ways to eat time until something important comes along.� Here the old human laughed and opened the door with a quick turn of the long brass key. Efrate walked in and the door shut behind him. Inside was a very utilitarian desk, above which floated a fairae. He seemed to be meditating. Efrate approached him slowly so as not to disturb his meditation. Once he was sure even the simplest person would be able to feel how close he was, he waited silently. Time dragged on. Efrate was about to speak up when the fairae opened his eyes and smiled. �Good you know not enough try to force a mage out of a trance, yes? A moment of lost control during conjuring could mean the lives of many saved or lost, and you either are very polite or very knowledgeable. I think the former, unless you can show me something, yes?� Efrate felt himself blushing again, thinking of how he almost had let his impatience get the best of him. He still needed much work, as Stalker was so fond of telling him. Zerb noticed and smiled again. �You were about to get my attention another way, yes? That too can be go, the man who waits for everything to fall into place never moves, yes? Have you anything to tell me about what you know?� In answer to the query, which seemed a bit too smug for Efrate�s taste, he unpinned his brooch from the Magus of Fire and tossed it onto the desk. A widening of the fairae�s eyes told him that Zerb recognized what it stood for, and the smugness vanished in an instant. �Master of the Flames you are, yes? My apologies for any rudeness sir, but I must wonder if you have attained this much already, what are you doing here, yes? Or maybe this tis all you know, and that says something else about how you budget your time, yes? Again my apologies and no offense meant, I do not wish to find out what fried fairae tastes like, yes? Come with me you have the key.� Zerb glanced at the brooch again, a strange fear in his eyes. �Take that yourself, yes? Zantonium is far too subjective of a metal for me to wish to deal with.� Efrate gladly grabbed the pin and put it back on, and proceeded to follow the fairae to his next destination. That last comment seemed odd to Efrate, but he let it pass for the time being. There were other matters to attend to. After a short while they stopped in front of an obsidian door in front of which two braziers stood, burning with white fire. Efrate reached into the flames and sure enough they were truly white, flame so hot it burnt away all colors until it had none. Only two flames surpassed it in heat, one he could handle, one no one could or would if they had any sense. �Herein lies Samei, our eminent flame wizardress. She shall tell you when you have the next key sir, yes?� Zerb gave an odd sequence of knocks, then with an awkward bow he left seemingly anxious to get to another place. Efrate was puzzled with the fairae, but he let his feelings slide. With an inward shrug he went through the next door. He stepped into a room so bright it nearly blinded him. There were flames all around, braziers in the corners, torches on the wall, and suspended in mid-air. All around the floors, walls, and ceiling flames raced, without any semblance of a pattern. The room was a ever shifting rainbow, with even some black flames, combining all other flames within them. It was a comfortable room, though it could have stood to be hotter. A voice called out to him urgently from one side. �Move boy or be burnt asunder! To your left!� Efrate turned at the flame that was racing towards him and smiled. It flowed over and through him, black flame so sweet and so hot. It was refreshing. With a smile that stretched across his whole face he walked toward the wizardress heedless of the flames that raced around the room. �Samei I presume? My name is Efrate, Zerb led me here.� �Faithful I assume? And pretty strongly to take black flame without even wincing. Ifrite or Cani? I assume the former seeing as how you called yourself.� With a snort and a shake of her head she led him to a table. It was carved out of a single block of obsidian, and carved very well, with the creation of the Dragons with scrollwork made to resemble flames. He had little knowledge of wealth, he had never had need for it, but he guessed that it would be extraordinarily expensive. Volcanic rock alone was not found anywhere near Barron. She poured herself a glass of liquid fire from a strange looking device on the table. He was offered none, though he dearly would have liked some, but it was not his place to ask, here he was student not master. She took a sip and must have noticed him eyeing it because her eyes sparkled in the flames and a secretive smile appeared on here face. She was quite a lovely human, barely older than he himself. �Now then Efrate was it? I have no idea what Zerb was thinking bringing you here, and as the second door, but even he is not that much of a fool. So you told him or showed him something that impressed him. Lets have it out?� He set his brooch on the table and pushed it towards her. Her eyes widened, and then she giggled. �Master of Flames? Very nice at your age, you remind me of myself, though I got mine when I was but sixteen summers old.� Here she giggled again and unpinned hers, causing her robe to slip considerably lower. He enjoyed what he saw though he suspected it was not her intention. Setting her brooch next to his she fingered them both, a vague smile on here face, most likely recalling memories of her time with the Magus. �So how is Flalorandoro these days? Tis been, oh, 7 or 8 summers since I last trained with him. I�m seven ranks above you by the way dearie. Though I have yet to see anyone with your level of talent in a while. Tis no matter. Well then, if you�ll stop ogling what I uncovered we can discuss you position.� She smiled at him to take some of the sting out of her voice. Despite himself he smiled back, meeting her eyes and casting a small flame in her face. She squealed and threw one back at him, then laughed eyes ablaze and picked up her brooch. �I like you Efrate. I am Samei Adaroi, Chief Faithful to Cani in Barron, Master of the Left Hand Path, and grand high something something of the Sorcerer�s Guild. And you are my new assisstant. We�ll talk of duties and everything else tomorrow around dawn. Tis the day of water and I wish to be off the streets with Madrid�s and Freliz�s fools going and drowning themselves. I�ll find you, and make sure you tell the people who give you lodging that you want a room with a fire, else you won�t get one.� �I am Efrate of no Surname, Faithful to Ifrite and Madrid. Master of Flames, and swordsman-in-training.� He touched the hilts of his blades breifly. �I shant be drowning myself tomorrow Mistress Adaroi, I communed earlier today, but I already have engagements at the swordsman guild at dawn, mayhaps noon will work?� �Just call me Samei Efrate. Faithful to Ifrite and Madrid? Swordsman and Sorcerer? What possessed you, those are about as odd of combinations as I have ever heard of.� Her brow furrowed as she attempted to puzzle it out. �What is fire Samei, but ever changing inconsistency? A flame never stays still, it always flickers and moves.� She laughed at that again, and briefly touched his cheek �Very good reply assistant. Noon it is. You have your second key, and before any more surprises I think I�ll take you to your final destination. To Master Kjelt we go. He shall finalize everything. Follow me, and try not to stare too hard.� She laughed again as she shimmied away. That small touched somehow seemed more intimate than her casual exposure earlier. He hoped he could maintain a business relationship with her for the time being. Fire governed lust, but the arousal of it was equally pleasing as the acts themselves to the Elementals, though he knew which one his father preferred. Like father, like son. He thought with a smile as he followed her out. * * * * *
Samei set a quick pace through the maze of corridors, following a path that seemed to get increasingly random. He guessed her nature was not for ordered or planned events, it couldn�t be if she was the Highest Faithful to a Fire Elemental in the City. For one to stay Faithful and stay strong in their Faith, a person had to base most if not all their lives around the properties of that element. * * * * *
Efrate followed Samei up a final flight to the top of the tower. Two great iron-clad doors stood closed. Samei gave an odd series of knocks and the doors swung open on silent hinges. The room was lit by a few braziers in the corners but it managed to be quite dim. A wide desk was surmounted by a lone candle that casted more shadows than illumination. The desk was covered in old tomes and scrolls, some that appeared so old that they might have been there before the fall of Ronius. An aura of ancient power permeated the room, similar to the feeling one got in a room Stalker had taken, only to a much lesser degree. A high backed chair faced away from them, the back carved heavily but simply. |