The carriage glides smoothly over the well-worn path as Marcel reins the horses towards the sunrise. Veni sits next to Reynold his eyes closed as he tries to sleep. Reynold, hand on his chin, stares at the carriage wall his eyes red and his cheeks stained red from the tears he has wept for the past hour. He uncorks the wine bottle and takes a healthy drink of blood. Reynold's lip quivers a bit as he chokes back a sob.
"I love you, Reynold!! I love you, I do! I love you!" Madara's voice rings in his head. He can see her face as clear as the carriage walls. He doesn't need to close his eyes any more to see her everywhere. He bows his head and rubs the tears from his eyes.
'Must be strong, musn't drive myself completely mad before I find her,' he thinks. He takes another drink and looks over to Veni, sleeping peacefully next to him.
'I wonder what that must be like, to sleep so fit. I don't remember what that's like.'
Reynold stares at the carriage wall for as long as he can, but soon sleep takes him and his chin slowly bows to rest upon his chest, and darkness does not come to him. Darkness would be a relief.

Reynold stands in a field, the wind blowing the wheat back and forth. The sound of it rustling is almost comforting. He looks up at the perfect blue sky and his eyes widen and his heart jumps.
"Daylight," he says as he throws up his hands to protect himself. The sunlight is warm and he can feel it radiating upon the palms of his hands. He waits for the burning, but only the warmth does he find. He lowers his hands and hesitantly looks up at the sun. He blinks and smiles.
"Sunlight�my god I haven't seen the sunlight in centuries," he says and laughs a little. He kneels down and touches a stalk of wheat. His brows furrow and he stands quickly looking all around him. 'So familiar,' he thinks.
He takes another look around, turning and scaning everything. Nothing but wheat for miles and wait-- a tree. There in the middle of the field a lone tree stands on a small hill. Reynold feels something pulling him towards it. Shrugging he begins to walk towards it, running his hands through the wheat.
Stepping slowly, enjoying the sunlight, Reynold looks around him again. His eyes land upon a man standing to the right of him. He steps back startled. The man cocks an eyebrow and his tatooed face breaks into a smile. He walks towards him and claps him on the shoulder.
"Not yet, Reynold. Give me a few years and then you'll know how to find me," the Sacaren says as he walks past Reynold. Reynold's eyes try to follow him but the man is too fast. A rush of wind and black hair is all he can sense, and the man is gone.
"Wait!" Is all Reynold can manage before realizing he is alone again. He turns around frantically looking for any trace of him.
"He can't hear you," Marcel says from behind him. Reynold turns and Marcel smiles gently at him. He puts his arm around his shoulders and begins to lead Reynold towards the tree.
"It's too soon for him."
"I don't understand, Marcel. Who was that?" Reynold says stopping and taking Marcel's shoulders. Marcel nods and leans in.
"All in good time, all in good time. You know, there will be others yes?"
"Others? What others? Don't speak riddles to me, Marcel!" He says shaking him. Marcel tsks at him and nods behind him.
"See?"
Reynold turns to see a taller man standing just a few feet away from him. He looks the man over scruitinizing his face.
"I know him! I know him! He's the man Von Draven hired�." Reynolds face locks in concentration as he clenches his fist. "I don't remember his name!" he says putting his fist to his forehead.
"It's not important," Marcel says leading Reynold once more towards the tree.
"This is your dream not mine, yes? Ah here we are," he says as they finally reach the tree. Marcel touches the bark and looks up to the treetop, then back down to Reynold.
"Where are we, Marcel? Do I know this place?"
Marcel thinks a moment and nods.
"Perhaps," he says and then nods his head motioning behind Reynold, "Ah good. Then shall we begin?"
Reynold turns to see a room sitting just down the hill. It is his old prince's chambers, he can see the walls yet straight through them as if the stone were invisible, yet the lines and definition of the bricks were etched into thin air.
He sees himself standing there in his robe speaking to Madara. She looks nervously around as he pours a drink of blood.
Reynold looks to Marcel. Marcel raises an eyebrow and motions for him to watch. Reynold turns back to the scene and the two people in the room begin to move again.

"Is the kingdom running to your satisfaction, my Prince?" Talk of business always calms her down and quiets the voices in her head.
"It is," he says as he warms up a glass for himself, "I wanted to say how much I appreciate your work. You have made the castle and the city safe for everyone."

Reynold turns towards Marcel again his mouth open and eyes wide. Marcel closes his eyes and nods. "This is the day�"
"That you tried to kiss my mistress, yes. Tried to tell her, yes."

He stands up and wanders over to a chest. He opens it and pulls out a finely-crafted sword. Walking over to Madara he hands her the sword.
"It is yours."
Madara's eyes get huge and she almost drops her glass of blood-- barely catching it as it is before it can tip and spill its contents. She hastily sets the glass on the table next to her chair and stands quickly.
"My...my lord! I, I don't know what to say!" Madara approaches slowly with her hand laying limply over her heart. "May I hold it? Where did you get it?" Madara approaches to accept Reynold's gift.
Reynold chuckles, "Hold it? You may have it, my friend, it is yours. I bought it a long time ago, when my sire and I traveled to Spain. It is made by the finest craftsman in all of Toledo." The Prince hands her the sword and smiles watching Madara's admiration of the blade.
Madara takes the sword by the hilt, and as she takes a couple of steps backwards she hefts it in her hand to test the weight. When she's sufficiently far back from Reynold she makes a few test-swings and lunges to see its balance and performance. Then she sheaths the sword, smiles-- her cheeks pink from the exercise and excitement-- and bows again.

"It is the finest sword I have ever owned, my Prince. I do not know what to do to repay your kind generosity and compliments, except to continue to make your safety and the kingdom's happiness my only priorities!" Madara smiles one of her rare radient smiles as she comes up from her bow.

Reynold closes his eyes and feels his heart drop. 'Good lord, I was a fool.'
"I can't bear to watch this, Marcel make it stop," he says his eyes returning to the scene. Marcel puts a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

Reynold looks at her and smiles, "When you smile as such, you are very beautiful." He walks towards her, his robe falling open, and puts his arm around her and pulls her to him. Taking her chin in his hand he kisses her passionately.
Madara stiffens for a moment then throws her arms around his neck and kisses him just as passionately. Then suddenly breaks the kiss and jerks back, her eyes wide in disbelief. She stares at him with those eyes for a moment and then runs from the room.

The room disappears leaving Reynold and Marcel standing by the tree. Reynold turns to Marcel, a look of sadness upon his face.
"I�I don't know what to say. I was a fool, an arrogant bastard who thought he could win Madara with such bravado." Reynold turns to the tree and lays a hand upon one of the branches.
"Don't apologize to me, my lord," Marcel says shrugging. He points to Reynold's left, "Look there is more to see." Reynold turns to see himself laying upon his bed in his old chambers once again. A look of sadness crosses his face.
"I know what night this is�"

Reynold's eyes snap open and he rises from the bed, putting his feet upon the floor. He grabs his trousers and slides them on. He walks over to the closet and grabs a white shirt and throws it on. A knock at his door makes him turn. A servant girl walks in smiling, he strides to her and waves her off. He takes her by the shoulders and walks her out the door and closes it behind her. He walks to his window and looks out, watching for her.
He sees her now, riding Nanesti through the streets, but something is different. She's coming from Amalia's manor. He shrugs, and continues to watch her get closer and closer to the castle. He smiles and turns to the closet, he opens it and pulls out the painting. He holds it in the light and smiles. "A good likeness if I do say so myself," he says to himself. He puts it back in the closet and knocks over the brushes and eisel he hid there. He bends down and picks them up and stuffs them back in. The knock on the door startles him and he closes the closet with a slam.
"Come in!" he says a little too excitedly.
Madara opens the door, enters, and then turns quickly to shut the door. She stands for a moment with her head down facing the door, and when she finally turns to face the Prince, he can see that her cheeks are flushed and she's trying desperately to conceal a smile. Her usually-immaculate appearance is marred by disheaveled hair hastily pulled back into a ponytail, her shirt has a few drops of blood at the collar-- as well as a couple of missing buttons-- and her pants look a little rumpled, as well. She quickly bows her head, still struggling to get the smile off her face.
"My Prince, I am reporting for duty. What would you have me do before the meeting?"

Reynold gives her a bemused look and laughs. He offers her a glass of blood.
"What happened to you? Was there a fight in the prison," he says with a chuckle.

Madara laughs a little loudly, almost in relief, and takes the glass from Reynold. "Aah the prison...I completely forgot...I have faith in Sarad, I am sure that all is running smoothly, as usual." Madara says, almost to herself, and then looks up at the Prince. "No, no fighting, my Lord..." then she gives a little giggle. "...a bit of wrestling and biting, yes, but fighting, no..." She quickly puts a hand to her mouth and laughs, and then clears her throat takes a swallow of the blood, glancing up at the Prince over the rim of the glass.

Reynold takes a drink smiling and suddenly it hits him...he saw her leave Amalia's. The blood, the shyness, the flushed look. He nearly chokes on the blood and the glass slips from his fingers to hit the floor, shattering sending the blood over his shoes.
"Ah sorry about that I just remembered something I have to do," He takes her by the arm and smiles, leading her to the door. He opens it and nods.
"If you could just make sure the prison is secure, I would feel so much better."

Madara looks with concern at the Prince as he leads her to the door. She hopes this forgotten business will not put him in danger. She considers prying a little, but decides against it.
"Of course, my lord. It was irresponsible of me to have let my rounds slip my mind." She looks at the Prince for a long moment before finally performing a quick bow, turning, and walking quickly back down the corridor.
Reynold closes the door and leans his back against the door. He bows his head and walks over to the closet. He takes out the painting and looks at it. His hands begin to shake and he walks over to the fire and gently lays the painting in the fire. He takes his brushes and eisel and they follow the painting. He sits down with a heavy sigh and watches the flames lick and dance around the painting.

The scene vanishes and Reynold closes his eyes and bows his head. Marcel nods and clasps his hands behind his back. He shakes his head and puts his other hand upon the tree.
"Don't say it," he says. Marcel leans down cocking his head to the side.
"Don't say what? That you just gave up? Just let her walk out that door into Amalia's arms?"
Reynold turns to Marcel with a snarl and grabs his jacket and brings him face to face with him. He shakes Marcel a moment, tears begin to run down his face.
"I said don't you say it! I was forced to keep my tongue! Don't you understand! She had already chosen, my road demanded it!" He says giving Marcel another weak shake. Marcel takes Reynold's hands and gently prys them from his jacket.
"I did not say that, my lord. Remember, it is your dream after all."
Reynold turns his back upon Marcel and leans his hand against the tree. He shifts his foot to a rock at the base of the tree. Putting his other hand on his knee, Reynold looks off in the distance.
"Why must I be forced to have these dreams, Marcel? Wasn't taking her from me enough? How am I to find her, Marcel? If you have any answers�" he says softly. Marcel smiles sadly and nods to Reynold's right.
"There's more."
Reynold closes his eyes and sighs, "There always is.." He opens them and turns to the scene.

Madara's mouth drops open as she stares at the Prince. She quickly backs off of the bed-- never taking her eyes off of him. "My Prince...that was...I am...well that was very beautiful, and I...really do not know what to say...I..." Madara starts walking backwards slowly until the back of her legs hit against an article of furniture, and she bends to catch it, and then stands quickly again. "I did not know you felt that way about me," she says, finally getting her thoughts together. "You understand that I am in love with Amalia...but I respect your courage in telling me what you were thinking." she says quickly.
"I know, and I would never think to destroy what you have with her. She must be very special to have you." He says as he returns to his chair and turns it to face towards the fire. He props his feet upon an ottoman and reaches over grabbing a book and begins to read it.
"I apologize for interrupting your work, please continue, I am not here."

Reynold watches the scene play out before him. He clenches his eyes when Madara proclaims her love for Amalia and turns back to Marcel. Marcel raises and eyebrow and shrugs.

Reynold places a mark in the book and puts it down. He stands and turns seeing the two "Madara's" laying upon the bed in their charms. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open. He snaps quickly out of it and turns to face the wall.

"My Prince?" Madara asks, and then takes her eyes off of the mirror and glances over to see the Prince standing facing the wall awkwardly. Madara jumps up and quickly puts her riding pants and shirt back on. "It is all right, your majesty-- you can turn around. I was not thinking-- I apologize."
"No no," he says his hand at his hip motioning towards her. "I was not prepared...for such...beauty," he chuckles. "Had I been a Toreador I should think I would have been destroyed. I...yes I understand your concern for her. No she will not be Lord Jurgen's...I do not believe so. I will fight it if he tries anything however I cannot lie to you in saying that such a thing will never happen. If it comes to the city or his bed, I would much rather this decoy to do it than you. I would rather the city than that."
Madara stands speechless-- she cannot believe what she just heard the Prince say! Madara runs over to the Prince's side. Her hand comes out and grabs the Prince's arm-- turning him to face her-- and she grabs his face in her hands and�comes a bare breath away from kissing him when Madara stops, her lips mere millimeters from the Prince's.

Reynold turns to Marcel crestfallen, "My chance, my chance to say and do everything, and once again�."
"You fail?" Marcel says. Reynold nods turning back to the scene to find it has vanished. He looks aside to Marcel.
"I did not know that Amalia was a rival. I did not know Madara was�"
"You don't remember that she and Giacova were lovers? Didn't you remember that, my lord?" Marcel says incredulously. Reynold shakes his head and bows it as he thinks.
"Tsk tsk, my lord. They were lovers for quite some time, although if I may say so, Giacova treated her horribly. Feeding her lines to keep her heart, yet carousing with the most unsavory men, yourself excluded my lord," Marcel sniffs. Marcel turns towards Reynold and Reynold returns his gaze. "That brings us to that question my lord, why did you sleep with Giacova?"
Reynold's jaw tightens and he averts his gaze from Marcel.
"So I could protect the city. She was making foolish choices. The city was nearly out of money from all the balls she threw. We hardly had enough in the coffers to afford our army. She failed to see the city had several spies from Rustovitch and I used it to dominate her and take it from her. I didn't," he says looking back at Marcel.
"I hadn't met Madara yet."
"Would it have changed anything?"
"Yes, of course! I fell in love with her the moment I saw her I-" Reynold stammers. Marcel shakes his head, silencing him.
"Not once did you ask my lady to dance at the ball, not once did you give any hint of your feelings until that day," Marcel says a bit of admonishment in his voice.
"Have you ever been in love before, Marcel?" Reynold asks. Marcel considers and nods.
"Several times, my lord."
"She was the first. The first time I had ever loved, I was foolish. I admit that now."
Marcel nods and this time a new figure stands at the base of the hill.
Katerina smiles her usual bemused smirk and gazes at the two of them, her head thrown back defiantly. Reynold blinks and turns to Marcel.
"She's not real."
"True, but what you did with her was."
"No, don't put that upon me! I explained to Madara why it happened! I was lonely! She was all there was. I needed�" He turns from them and grabs onto the tree and looks around, his eyes darting.
"Yes? Continue my lord, you needed?"
"I needed her to destroy Koban!" Reynold shouts in his face. Marcel stands his ground and smiles, crossing his arms.
"So you used her."
"Yes," Reynold hisses, "And she tricked all of us!"
"There," Marcel nods, "See, you are not the shining knight you wish to be."
Reynold turns to Marcel, his eyes afire and he opens his mouth then closes it.
"I have done terrible things, but I did them for the sake of Belgrade. I did not wish to see the city taken I did not wish to-"
"The truth of it, my lord. If you will." Marcel says calmly.
"I did not wish to see the city destroyed!"
"Again?"
"I did not want to see Madara die!! Do you know what Tszmisce do to those that betray them!? I did it for HER do you understand now?!" Reynold shouts and then stops as he looks to Marcel then back to the horizon.
"There, that wasn't very hard, was it, my lord?" He says.
"Why this? Why now? This is not my usual nightmare, what's happening here?"
Marcel smiles knowingly and shrugs. "I do not know my lord, as I have said it is your dream."
Reynold puts his hands to his temples and rubs them trying to make some semblance of reason to all this. As all these scenes and words tremble in his mind he sinks to his knees.
Marcel puts a hand upon his head and puts his fingers through his hair comfortingly.
"Look if you will my lord, there is hope," Marcel says as he looks straight ahead.
Reynold opens his eyes and falls to his backside from his knees. There in the distance a shadow begins to loom across the field. The sun which had been in its zenith now rises above the shadow and there he can finally see the shape of the shadow as it begins to burn white hot.
It is a cross. A cross of the most alabaster white. An ivory cross.
"Is it�is it God?" He whispers. Marcel chuckles behind him and leans down to his ear.

"Would you settle for a goddess? There is more to see," he says and the cross is gone.
Reynold looks to where Marcel motioned to. His eyes widen and he turns his head back to Marcel, to find the old man gone. He sighs and looks back down the hill.

Madara walks quickly up the small hill to stand before him, and bows. "I am sorry that I am late, my Prince, but I am ready to give you the evening's report, if that is what you wish?" Madara continues to stand at attention with her hands clasped behind her back.

Reynold's breath catches in his throat and he takes Madara by the shoulders and gazes straight into her eyes.
"Madara? Can this be real? Madara?"
Madara's eyes grow wide, but she continues to stand as still as possible. "My...my lord? What do you mean? Are you well?"
"Yes, yes I am well now that you are here," he says as he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. He releases the hug and smiles at her.
"Madara where are you? Can you tell me?"
Madara begins to look very worried. "My lord-- I think we had better go back into the castle. I will send for Sister Florentia...I do not think you are well..." Madara's eyes darken. "Has Katerina been in the castle tonight?"
"Has Katerina been in the castle?" he asks and then it dawns upon him. He takes his hands from her shoulders and nods.
"No she is away on a trip." He says with a sigh. "Alright then, Madara, my I have your report?" He says as he turns his back and begins to pace like he always did. He bows his head a bit to hide his tears.
Madara furrows her brow as she looks carefully at the Prince. "You are not sleeping well again, are you." she says as a statement more than a question. "My Prince, please try to sleep. I...I can force you to sleep, if you wish me to. I worry about your health and the stability of the kingdom with you like this." Madara looks at the Prince with complete sincerity and concern.
Reynold chuckles and turns from her quickly wiping the tears.
"Yes I do believe you could make me sleep. No, Madara I have not slept well. Not in a month or so," he turns to her and the wind picks up.
"I have nightmares...the most dreadful of nightmares. But sometimes I have the sweetest of dreams and they, too, are but nightmares."
Madara looks sadly at the Prince. "I wonder what could be causing this! Perhaps all of the stress you are constantly under?" Madara suggests, and then pauses. "How could the sweetest of dreams be nightmares, as well?" She looks at the Prince in curious confusion.
Reynold gazes into her eyes, "They are nightmares of all that could have been had I not made the mistakes I did." He turns back to the horizon and sighs then turns back to Madara.
"I am sorry for the way I used to treat you and the others. I was a fool and now it's too late. Had I been myself, instead of the Prince I...we...twenty-five years wasted. We could have had twenty-five years." Madara looks at the Prince silently for a moment, then swallows and clears her throat. "My Prince...what do you mean? You have always treated all of us well-- like a true prince! And the past twenty-five years have been wonderful! You have made this kingdom into one of the most powerful in the world! I have never known as good a prince as you in my entire existence! What kind of twenty-five years would you have had us have?" Madara exclaims, not understanding that he means he and she...not he and the kingdom.
Reynold smiles at the compliment and nods, "Yes the city, you must mean the city," He turns to Madara and bows his head and takes her hands.
"I meant us, Madara. Us. I have been such a fool with you that I let everything get between us. I thought by being filled with bravado and over-confidence I could win you. I was wrong. I should have been myself. I should have run fifty miles away from Katerina. I should have stopped you that night after I kissed you and told you then and there that I loved you."

Madara looks at the Prince in shock, and then down at his hands that are holding hers. She feels a little dizzy, and it takes her quite a while before she can summon her voice and thoughts enough to speak. He...he looks so different right now. She believes that he's telling the truth-- his aura certainly seems to support that. She looks up at Reynold with wide eyes. "You...you have loved me for twenty-five years?" Her brow furrows. "Why? Why-- out of all the women who have graced your presence-- do you love ME? And please do not tell me that it is because I am such a good helper and make your life so much easier. I have heard that one before." Madara's lips become a thin line.
Reynold looks into her eyes and smiles sadly. He takes a breath.
"If I told you and started at the begining we would waste another twenty-five years."
Madara slides her hands out of his and walks over to the tree, leaning her head against it and hitting her fist against the bark. She remains like that for a while, and when she finally turns, her eyes are rimmed with red and she looks upset. "I was lonely for so long, Reynold! My only joy was waking up and going to your chambers to report for duty, and day after day you paraded the castle-whores in front of me...let your robe fall open in front of me...and you KNEW this made me uncomfortable!" Madara takes a step forward, her hands clenched.
"I am not that kind of woman-- I hate to disappoint you, my lord! Yet, for some reason, I felt something for you, as well, but I did not want to be hurt again! You slept with Giacova...Katerina...all those women, and now when I am finally sharing my heart with someone who is loyal and true, NOW you choose to tell me that you loved me all along? NOW? Why not twenty-five years ago when my heart was free to be given?? You kissed me, and I kissed you back, then! I was so excited! But then my better senses came back to me, and I ran from you! Are you saying that you have been deceiving me all along? That you are not a letch, after all??" Madara, by this point, is standing with her finger pointing into the Prince's chest, and she looks outraged.

Reynold nods and turns his back to her, "I cannot explain my actions. I thought I was being strong, I was simply being a fool. I have only been with Giacova and Katerina. Those other women, I talked to them and that was all," he says turning back to her.
"And I regret being with those other two...it was you. Always you."
Madara begins to cry now-- long, moaning sobs-- and turns back to the tree in humiliation. She clutches a thick, low-hanging branch in her arms and presses he face against it to hide her tears. "What have I done..." she murmurs in a voice thick with emotion. "...I went to Amalia and convinced her to love me when she had never loved a woman before...convinced her to destroy the soul of her captured childe...I cannot be the cause of any pain for her! I love her, and she loves me!" Madara turns her red-streaked face to look over her shoulder at Reynold. "Just because I loved you first, and you loved me all along does not give me the right to crush the heart of the one I promised never to leave! And I see you suffering now before me, and it breaks my heart-- how could one who was only ever hurt by others now be the cause of hurt? I do not think I can stand this pain!" Madara presses her forehead against the tree and Reynold can see her shoulders shaking.

Reynold walks over to her and puts his hand on her shoulder and turns her to face him.
"You are not the source of any pain to me, Madara. Only constant joy and love and strength. I know something you do not it seems. It is others who give me this sorrow. I want you to know that I love you and I will find you. I promise, I will fight through all the demons of hell or storm the gates of heaven if I must. But I will be with you, my love."
As Reynold is speaking to her, every word brings her step by step into clarity-- each thing he says rings with truth until her mind is no longer clouded and in the past, but the present, and she remembers everything. "I remember everything now..." Madara whispers, looking up at him, and suddenly throws her arms around him and presses him to her with incredible strength. "I am sorry, my Reynold...I love you SO much!" She cries against his shoulder, and then takes his face in her hands and quickly turns her head up to kiss him desperately.
Reynold kisses her with a force he did not know was possible and holds her to him tightly. 'This is a dream,' he thinks then shakes it out of his head. 'So let it go, let it just be and enjoy the time you have with her.'
He pulls away and smiles at her and takes her hand and kisses it.
"I love you Madara."
"Oh Reynold, why are we not together, then? I sense that we have become separated-- I know this not just from your words, but I can feel it! Where am I?" She pulls Reynold back in and embraces him, pressing her cheek against his chest. "Now I sense only darkness, death, and decay-- oh Reynold, do not let me go! Do not leave me-- I am afraid!" Madara pulls Reynold down onto the grass-- looking over her shoulder in terror, as if expecting to see something there. She wraps her arms and legs around him tightly, and clenches her eyes shut with her forehead against his neck.
Reynolds holds onto her tightly and lets himself be dragged down to her. He puts his hand upon the back of her head and moves himself to face her.
"Don't sense anything but me, my Madara. I am here and you are safe from all that seperates us," He says and kisses her passionately.
Madara kisses him back with equal passion, his lips stifling her sobs. When the kiss finally breaks, she is holding his face in her hands again. "I will try, my love, I will try..." Madara lets out a loud sob, and then tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck to him. "Take these images away from me, Reynold! Take me away from that place, to a place where all I see and feel is you! Take me away, my Reynold! Please take me!" Madara begs, closing her eyes tightly.
Reynold feels his heart stop for a moment and he gently bends his head down to nip her neck and begin to drink. As he drinks in her warm blood he can feel their hearts slow and beat in unison. Madara sighs with relief when she feels his teeth and lips on her skin, and then gasps and presses his head to her neck even harder when he begins to drink. His Kiss is intoxicating, and it erases all evil visions from her mind, filling it-- instead-- with bright bursts of color...sensation...desire...pleasure. She falls back onto the grass, pulling him on top of her and not letting his mouth separate from her neck for an instant.
The rest of their lovemaking is just as in kind. Their afternoon is tender and passionate and sweet and all the thoughts and feelings of the truth vanish between the two. Instead there is only the soft sound of the wind within the wheat and the leaves, and their joyous cries.

The scene changes once more and Reynold finds himself standing under the tree, Marcel by his side. He turns to Marcel in confusion and looks about him.
"Where is she? Bring her back!"
"I cannot, there is one last thing you must see," he says. Reynold strides up to him and puts his face into Marcel's. The wind begins to pick up and Marcel takes a step back.
"There's more I want to say to her. Now you bring her back." Marcel shrugs and turns his back and begins walking down the hill.
"You bring her back," he says over his shoulder. A new scene begins to start. It is his old room once more and this time Amalia and Katerina stand in the doorway. He and Madara stand next to each other. He is holding her sword in front of them asking them to let the two pass.
Reynold's eyes close tight and he struggles to hold upon the tree as his strength begins to give at the knees. Tears begin to fall from his cheeks.

"No!" He whispers in a hoarse voice. "No, I will not see this! I know what happened! I know what is coming and I will not do this!" He opens his eyes once more and the scene starts from where he closed his eyes. He closes them again and puts his forehead to the tree. Great sobs wrack his body as his grip upon the tree tightens.
"Why is this happening? Why am I really here?!" he shouts-- this time his voice cracks.
He opens his eyes and this time the scene vanishes leaving only Amalia and Katerina standing at the bottom of the hill. The two women stand their ground and smile knowingly at him. He curls his mouth into a frown and he locks his eyes into theirs.
"Enjoy what you have for the time you have it! I am coming! I am coming for her and not you nor your master will stop me!" The two women laugh and slowly vanish from his sight.

"My lord?" comes a voice from nowhere�everywhere. "My lord wake up!" The voice urges.

Reynold snaps his eyes open and looks around the carriage in confusion. Veni sits next to him, his hand upon his shoulder shaking him awake.
"My lord, you were screaming. Are you well?" He asks a look of concern on his face. Reynold sits up and nods. "What was I screaming?'
"Something about 'coming for her'�'your master'�I didn't make out the rest," he says leaning back. Reynold nods and opens the shutter a bit. The moonlight streams into the carriage and Reynold turns towards Veni.
"Those two were in my dream. They were taunting me."
Veni nods and opens the door. He hefts his axe to get out and steps down.
"Good, next time tell them to come out so I can whet my axe in their blood," he growls and closes the door.
Reynold sits back and rests his chin on his hand.

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