Oh how they all were alike...

Garthag thought to himself as he quietly, in shock gazed at every villager, each at a time. Every face he recognized from what he had seen, every tear and shred of emotion he had witnessed he now saw in them. Yet the longer he looked at these villagers and their lives, the more distorted became the line between their lives and his own. For in every face he began to see a little bit of that, which he had seen in his childhood, in a stubborn group of people with whom he had shared a village. Only the names made him tremble uncontrollably and chuckle, but there was no mock or malice in it, but bittersweet sorrow.

Lira came all too close to Lily, not only for her name, but some characteristics as well. Lily had been a carefree soul, one that suffered for it`s own stupidity yet would afterwards shrug the pain off as a lesson and laugh about it. One that would not give up no matter what, a stubborn soul, who above all adored his family, but never had it as a whole. Then there was his mother, a shadowy figure of the man he had known as his father and even his deceitful master.

From there on it was all a blur as he enclosed his head within the shadows of his hood, not sure whether he was going to shed tears or not. He could not afford to do so in the presence of others nor show any shred of emotion, they and he were best off maintaining an atmosphere of hate between each others. That way no one would care for him and in that way no one would get hurt or simply cry when he was gone, only the spirits of the dead would recall him as he would fade out of everyone`s memories. For a short time he might be recalled as a tyrant in the north, who killed all that opposed him. Such things would fade away and no Renegade nor Meiltha would certainly record his deeds, he was after all best left forgotten.

However he could not, but help wonder how many people like these he had killed for only defending their homes, for protecting their loved ones? How many had fed the flame of his ambition? Had he become the very monster, which he had once tried to stop and if he had why was he stopping now? The only truth he had found had been, that his own lies had shrouded this part of reality from his eyes and he had simply chosen not to acknowledge what he was doing to people like these.

Yet did these people or anyone else like this deserve to be forgotten? Had his own village deserve to be decimated and forgotten? No, they deserved better than that and only life would have been a fitting award yet none of them would be here were they not dead. What about him then? He shared their pain, he could sympathize with them and their tale only haunted him for being similar to his own.

Then again for all the crimes he had committed against people like these, he did not deserve to be equal to them or alike. Along side the hysterical chuckles, that from time to time escaped between his teeth, a tear drenched it`s way from his cheek within the shadows of his hood. It, like him would be best left forgotten in the light of what they just witnessed.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Merrin had dropped to her knees, face buried in her hands. Somehow, the anguish she'd witnessed was too deep for tears. All it did was drench her, time after time after time, with the hopeless despair felt by every soul standing there. She found herself mentally repeating the names of her own family, an image of each blazing bright in her mind and fading.

Mama and Da, she with an apron damp from the dishes and he grimy from a day's work, but looking at each other across the table with veiled smiles that hinted at the love they still had - and would always have - for each other. Merrin had never seen that with any of the village boys. She couldn't see, past their brashly confident facades, the kind of love that made Jayen and T'mor and Merrin and Adasin and Liand and little Rhie. The kind of love that made a family.

Mama. Da. Jayen. Jayen would never say he loved Merrin best - he was too fair for that - but she ran to him before she ran to Mama or Da. His image flashed before her eyes. Tall. Sandy brown hair, wiry. She couldn't remember if he was handsome or not. It had never mattered. She remembered little carved dragons instead; evenings while he helped her tramp out into the snow to dump the dirty dishwater; the time he'd fought with another boy because the lad pressed Merrin too hard to dance with him around a Midsummer bonfire.

With increasing rapidity, the others presented themselves. T'mor, huge and muscled and wearing that infectious grin that either meant he was in trouble, or he was trying to get out. T'mor was the incongruency that separated Jayen and Merrin, the variety that made him carefully responsible and her withdrawn. Adasin and Liand, never known by name but as a unit, The Twins, had been little four-year-old explosions. Merrin's pain was acute enough with the heart-wrenching stories of the villagers. Now, in a vision conjured only by her mind, she watched as the same malady overtook those she loved. She knew they were alive and safe and well, but even while she felt the anguish of these people, she knew how utterly devastating the loss of her own family would be. She drew a breath and felt physical pain, her chest tight with the empathetic misery of the silent villagers.

When she moved her hands, letting them fall limply to rest in her lap, Merrin found that her eyes did not fill with the tears she expected. She waited, numbly looking at the wreckage of all the dreams and hopes and loves that had expired along with the people who embodied them. Her throat and chest were tight, but the tears that threatened so often did not adequately express the kind of devastation here. She didn't cry.

The perseverance that had pushed Merrin this far drove her to her feet. And then...you can bring us our salvation. Mechanically, she turned and found the man whose past had just played before her eyes. He was standing in the same place he had. Bring us our salvation. How? She was no one. She was Merrin, the peasant girl, she was the same as these people, what could she do that they could not do for themselves?

You can't right all the world's wrongs. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Merrin gulped one breath, as hungry for the hot dry air as if she were suffocating. I don't know. Neither do they. But I have time - I have time - it has to be now!

The remembrance of all their suffering pounded in her head, and the need to give the hope that could bring peace was an impulse so strong, in Merrin, that she could hardly breathe past it. In one blurred rush she saw them all, every withered and broken hope and every prayer, every villager crushed by all they'd lost. She didn't know if she could heal it. But she could try.

"You'll see her again," she repeated to the man - the man whose name was Tain - and with the words Merrin's tears spilled over. She reached for the gaunt hand, acting on the instinct that drove her, and tried to keep going past the sobs. "Your wife - your baby" - the pain of empathy swelled until Merrin could hardly contain it, and she couldn't see past the tears - "you'll see them. You'll be - happy, because the gods will bless you, and there will be no sickness or hunger or pain -" she stopped, raising her eyes to his face, seeing it with sharper clarity than anything else. That face, yellowed and gaunt and worn with the anguish and the sorrow. Even past the tears, she could see the hope. Hope wrestled with pain, and she didn't know which would emerge victorious.

One word could decide it all. One word, one answer, meant salvation or destruction. Life or death. Happiness or despair eternal - Merrin gasped a breath. "Do you believe it?" she whispered, white fire kindling in her eyes and in her fingertips.

And the man who had lost his wife and baby to hunger and plague, and his happiness to anguish, and now even his life, looked down at the tendrils of divine fire that reached from Merrin's hands. He met her eyes, and his rasp of a voice was beautiful. "Aye."

He was falling. His last breath sounded and faded, and even as he died Merrin saw the hope, saw the knowledge in his face that something better awaited him. His hand was still between hers. The world swam before her eyes, from tears anew, and Merrin bent her head over the still, wasted body. "Be at peace," she whispered.

Doesn't mean you shouldn't try.

_________________

Tain's body struck the dust with a dull thump. The gathered men and women and children looked on in silence. Then, slowly and simultaneously, drawn by the same impulse, they lifted their faces to the gray skies. Their mouths moved in voiceless invocation. The sun, groping upward in the east as a drowning man gropes for the surface, at long last broke above the horizon in an corona of molten gold.

The hands of the gods parted the heavens. And the eyes of the gods shed tears of flame.

Silently fell the fiery torrents. Everywhere as far throughout the wasteland as the naked eye could see, they burst through the dead veil of clouds in throbbing buds that blossomed as they descended. The white-gold flowers burned warmth into the listless air. They sizzled into the dry and splitting earth, where the rising sun bent its rays to kiss the embers. Wherever they planted themselves, saplings of flame uncurled and grew tall, their branches stretching toward the sky, until orange-crested forests blazed across what had once been a cold desolation.

Kendath stood, head upturned, and let the flames roll down his face, his neck, like cleansing rain. The heat scorched his skin, but he never flinched. He felt the blisters, smelled the charred flesh, watched the showers of light until his eyes watered and went black from the brilliance. He welcomed it. The pain was purification. The cleansing was fulfillment. He was free.

Gods save us. Gods save us all.

When it ended, everything - the village, the people, the grave - was gone. All that remained were the trees, towering into the sunlight. Their tiny leaves unfurled one by one. Orange tipped the viridescent veins.

Before them glowed the portal. Its door invited them through.

_________________

Merrin stood motionless, staring at the wasted body of what had once been a man who lived, who loved his wife, who would have played with his baby. The wasted body of a man who would do so again. Or would he? Had the spirit there merely winked into nothingness, part of a trial that had no meaning?

The first blossom burst into fiery radiance at her feet, pushing up through the folds of the silver cloak she'd let fall from her hands. The tips of flame on its petals burned a star-shaped hole in the shimmering fabric, completely severing the tear that had nearly ripped it in half down the middle. She bent to run the material through her fingers, unaware of her tears until they dropped with a faint hiss on the flower's petals.

When she stood, she left it there. Gold rained from riven heavens, drenching the barren wasteland in shimmering raiment of divine fire. Merrin raised a hand. White danced on her fingertips, threatened to burst in an explosion of gods-given power. She closed her eyes, aware of the hot trails that tears left down her cheeks. Merrin, the voices whispered, calling her. Merrin Dragonrider. Chosen of the Gods. Still the fire rained, and still she couldn't bear to see it. "You saved them," she whispered back. "You saved them. Why do you need me? Why is it so hard?"

Silver had disintegrated into dust that glimmered on wind of fire. Flame licked the edges of the portal, almost too bright to look at. What came next? What came after that? Did it ever end?

Merrin's feet nearly took her there of their own volition. Nearly. When fire beckoned, inviting her to go just a step further, she stared at it blankly. Divine fire, awakened within her by the heavenly torrents of flame, beat against its floodgates. She pressed it down.

"I can't do this," Merrin whispered.

_________________

Kendath extended an arm and traced the portal's blue glow. It pulsated beneath his hand, tingling his finger with a strange warmth. Around him towered the newly birthed forest, resplendent in springtime. Birdsong trilled in the interwoven canopy above. A speck like a snowflake drifted down past him. He caught it and held it. The white petals, tipped in orange, opened up in his palm. Life from death. He turned over his hand and let the blossom continue its fluttering way to the ground.

A tiny step towards the portal, then another. It amazed him how hard it was to place one foot in front of the other, yet how easy it was to want to collapse on the bed of sun-drenched soil and sleep the troubles away. He glanced behind him again and stopped, surprised. Merrin wasn't following. She stood a little ways to the side, gaze downcast, face drawn like it always seemed to be these days. Even fire failed to warm her cheeks.

"I can't do this," she whispered.

The rush of raw emotions shocked him, nearly toppled him over. It had him twisting around to stare at her, his jaw slack. He hastily closed it, only to fight the urge to open his mouth again and - against all reason - yell at her. Seize her by the shoulders. Shake her. Scream at her, Not you. Not you. Why? It's not that hard - just step through the portal! Merrin wasn't supposed to hesitate. Merrin wasn't supposed to have doubts. She was supposed to be strong - stronger than their enemies - and press forth while all others floundered. She was supposed to have faith, to shove the white fire before death's blood-red eyes and say, Here! Here are the gods! She was supposed to believe.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kendath snarled. Snarled - at Merrin? He strode toward her and tilted her chin up so that she'd be forced to meet his gaze. "What's wrong with you? Did you suffer their agony for this? Did you come so far only to stop and stand like a coward when it's almost over? You told them to believe. You told me to believe. Why this? Why now?" He could no longer restrain himself. He grabbed her by the arms and shouted, "Where is your faith?"

_________________

The first sob broke past Merrin's fragile barrier. It was too hard. To step through that portal meant surrendering to whatever it brought, meant giving herself up to whatever happened. She couldn't do it. It was too hard. White fire pounded in her head, pulsed at her fingertips, but white fire could not fix it all. She wanted Vryngard back. She wanted Wyvern back. She wanted light and hope and happiness - "I can't!"

She made to put her hands to her face, to sob that it wasn't fair, she wasn't strong enough, she couldn't do it. Faintly, she heard Kendath's voice. No. I want to stop. I want to go home. He was forcing her head up, out of her hands - shouting at her - shaking her - and Merrin didn't want to hear it. "No!" she yelled, the word torn from her raw throat, trying to shove him away. "I can't do it!"

At the selfsame moment, he shouted "Where is your faith?"

Merrin stared at him, tingling all over with shock. Kendath. Kendath was telling her to believe. She was standing there, divine fire pounding in her head and pulsing at her fingertips, and Kendath was telling her to believe. Faith. How many times had she said it? How many times had she -

Merrin gasped a breath, then another, unable to tear her eyes away from him, frozen. Kendath had asked her don't you want to be free from the tyranny of the gods? Kendath had never been able to believe, to trust. And Kendath was asking her now - where is your faith?

What had she told him? It's a blessing.

Another sob tore through her. Fire faded, receded to become a mere presence in the back of her mind, a reservoir. Then she was only Merrin, not the Chosen of the Gods, not the saviour of the dragons. And Kendath was telling her to believe.

"I don't know," she gasped, realizing how utterly inadequate the answer was. "It's with Vryngard. It's with Wyvern. Kendath, I can't lose anything else, I can't risk it all one more time! They keep asking - and asking - and I'm running out, I'm running out -" she didn't know what she was running out of. Power? No. What? Faith. Why is your faith in Wyvern and Vryngard? Why isn't it where it belongs?

"I'm sorry," she gasped again, and then she couldn't talk for the tears.

_________________

Kendath withdrew, bewildered, wondering how it had come down to this. What had happened? What had he said? She wasn't supposed to cry. He'd been angrily shouting at her and manhandling her. She was supposed to return the anger tenfold. Yell back at him, maybe. He'd wanted his words to pick up her fallen pieces and put her back together, united in renewed resolve. Instead, she had broken down again, the pieces of her shattered and more confused than ever.

Stop. Just stop, he silently pleaded. He didn't know what to say, how to handle this. What could he do? Pat her on the back, tell her to get up - the portal waited? They'd just stumbled their way through hell together, and there was more, more, and still more to come. Now Merrin was telling him that she'd had enough, that she was human, too, and vulnerable just like anyone else. But she's not like anyone else! He flung his eyes skyward in hopes that the trees would part and answers would rain down from the heavens. You chose her! Now give her hope! Show her the way!

Where is your faith? That was the answer. His own words echoed back at him in mockery.

Leaning close, he cupped Merrin's face in his hands as though warmth could dry her tears. Still the tears flowed in streams down her cheeks, through the cracks between his fingers. The image gave him an idea. He spoke softly, urgently, "Someone I knew... my father... once told me... It's easy for faith to become a river. Downward it flows, picking the easiest path around the rocks and hills. But you can't find gods at the bottom of the ocean. A thousand rivers flow into a thousand seas, coming together, until they forget where they came from, who they are."

His thumbs stroked the moisture from beneath her eyes. What else had Amrinev said? It'd sounded so much wiser, so much more truthful, coming from his mouth than from his son's. Kendath shook his head and struggled for expression. "He... he told me... how much better it is for faith to become a mountain. Some will climb this mountain, and all will fall. But once you reach the top... and stand beneath the clouds... That is where you'll find the gods."

_________________

Garthag had quietly watched as Tain fell to the dust, but did not bother to react, he simply watched them all with quiet eyes, devoid of any emotion as, if he didn`t care. It was true in a way, he did not want to care for these strangers nor had he ever, but the mere likeliness of their tale reminded of his own pain. A pain, that he had struggled with and ultimate lost to, he had locked it away along with the memories he had once held dear. Freezing his heart had not easy, but he had once been amazed by the easiness of it and how he had been able to kill with feeling nothing, it was like no one else mattered. Yet they did, he had not only stopped caring for his own sake, but for the sake of those he might have come to care for had he not chosen to freeze his heart.

No one else would ever have to know the pain all dear to him had suffered only because of his own weakness, no longer would he have to see those dear to him suffer. Yet such a life would have been meaningless without goals and what had he set for himself? Power, power to conquer, divide and rule as he liked, as he willed. A power, which he would have used to create something new, a heaven of peace in the north, which he would have ruled with an iron fist. Now as he looked at the sight before him, as the flames engulfed them, purifying their sins and flesh of their cursed existence, he couldn`t feel that all he had done these past years had been incredibly foolish, serving no purpose in the end. Yet what had he struggled for now? That his family and friends had not died in vain? That he had been destined to survive?

Garthag sighed heavily, but his course of thoughts was disrupted by two things. The sobbing of Merrin and the portal, which had now been created by the flames before them, allowing passage. At last these cruel test would be over and he could just... do what exactly? Go back to being cynical and heartless as, if every memory, that had been revived was just an illusion, a creation of the test? Garthag closed his eyes and clenched his hands into a fist. He could see two sides of himself, the young man, who was still strangled by the pain of his past yet wished to make things right with his power. Then there was the other, a harsh, cynical man, who only wished to use the power he had gained to his own ends, like playing god with the lives of others.

Garthag opened his eyes and walked before the gate, he slowly reached out and touched the surface of the gate with his fingers. Odd enough the flames were there yet they did not burn at all, but things of magical or evenly godly nature could surely be decided to recognize friends and foes as he well knew. He had only partially listened to the wailing of Merrin and the comforting words of Kendath, but they had no time to stop here to wail. They would have to go on to face the end of whatever they were going trough, he for one had not come all this way in vain and the only thing Merrin managed to do now was anger him. Yet calmed himself and pulled back his fingers from the gate before slowly turning to look at Merrin. His face was somewhat blank, but it was more like he was staring beyond them as, if remembering something from his past. Indeed, it had always been his duty to encourage his little sister when things had seemed bleak and hopeless. Yet as he began to spoke and thinking of everything they had endured, his tone grew ever angrier as he couldn`t or wanted to understand this sudden brake down. It was mainly because none of them could nor wouldn`t phantom what he had lost.

"Time is not on our side I am afraid and I suggest we get a move on, I know you feel as, if you are worthless and powerless because you cannot protect everyone. Yet rarely anyone has the power to protect their loved one`s or things dear to them, it is a cruel truth in this world, but if you allow the pain to dull you now then you`ll end up like I.

We are seeking to accomplish a great feat in such a... short time whilst ordinary people are set with simple goals over the time span of many years. We are asked the impossible yet I was under the impression you were not one to be shaken. Did you give in when I mocked you and was threatening to kill you? Was I not a threat enough to scare you like this?!

Garthag demanded to know with his anger rising, he couldn`t stand people, who had started something and once believed in it yet suddenly cover before the end. Fear was natural to all, but letting it control you was another thing, a thing for the weak and the young woman he saw before him was not that. She had braved more than many her age could have, not as much as Lily once had, but that was different. Lily hadn`t had a chance, she hadn`t been asked or offered anything, but Merrin had been. She had a chance to being peace about and even, if she ran away from it, the Meiltha and the shadowers would wreak havoc upon the world. She nor the rest of the world would never have any peace.

"You little idiot, if you do not go trough with this then you`ll lose everything and so will the rest of us, can you sacrifice everyone else's hopes and dreams of peace because you could not go on? You have grown pathetic compared to the one, who once dared to stand up to me and I doubt, that my actions have ever wounded you this much. Come trough this gate, if you think you can`t the dreams and hopes of others yet, if you can then stay here and rot for all I care..."

Garthag almost shouted with an frustrated and angered tone, his hands were shaking and his eyes had an unshakable fury, that might had more than once silenced insolent villagers. Garthag spun around and in a flap of his white robes he had disappeared trough the portal.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

That is where you'll find the gods. Merrin raised her eyes, feeling Kendath's fingers catching her tears even as they fell. Above her, golden branches soared into the pure azure of the sky...a sky which had rained flame, only moments before, onto a barren wasteland. She caught her breath raggedly, feeling a sob shudder through her. Flower blossoms floated down from the boughs of the colossal trees, turning the air fragrant.

"It's so big," she whispered, meeting his eyes. "The mountain." Merrin didn't trust her voice not to break. Garthag was speaking, his voice climbing in intensity. You'll lose everything...everyone else's hopes and dreams...

Merrin squeezed her eyes shut, feeling herself trembling. "I know," she whispered. "I know." And then he was gone, and she wrestled for one horrible moment with his words. I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. I know what's going to happen if I fail. I know it every minute of every hour of every day.

A warm breeze stirred her hair, whispering. The only one who can lose hope is the one who knows all ends. You do not, Merrin Dragonrider. The smell of flowers brushed past and was gone, leaving only the sensation of a touch on her mind and a flicker of white fire. The portal beckoned.

She raised her head, still trying to draw breaths that did not hitch with sobs, and looked at Kendath. Her voice did break. "Your father...your father was a very wise man," she managed to say, attempting a crooked smile and failing. The last of the tears spilled down her cheeks and Merrin raised her hands to wipe them away. "Sorry," she whispered, ashamed of herself, feeling as though Garthag had been a little justified. She thought of silver fabric in her fingers and fought back the tears one more time. The portal still flickered blue. Merrin managed to meet his eyes. "Thank you."

_________________

Kendath shook his head at her sudden blush. Trust Merrin to apologize for giving in for just one moment in time - just one moment when she could let loose the mantle of Chosen and become Merrin, simply Merrin. He recalled his own outburst and regretted it.

A strand of hair, burnished copper by the sunlight, hung over her face. He took it and gently tucked it behind her ear. She was looking up at him. Tears still streaked her cheeks, and he raised the back of his hand to brush the last droplets away. It was then that he noticed the warmth and proximity of her slender frame. How easy it would be to lean in, just a few more inches, and...

He stepped back, gesturing at the portal with a small smile. "You first."

_________________

Merrin nodded mutely, gathering herself. She spared one moment of regret to leave the verdant forest, and another wistful one for the silver cloak that was no longer fastened around her shoulders. It was like losing a fragment of her identity.

She tentatively reached out with her fingertips, watched as the sapphire flames curled around them and then receded into the surface of the mirror-like portal. Merrin turned, once, and looked over her shoulder at Kendath. There wasn't time to hesitate. She stepped through.

Tongues of flame licked at her limbs, carried her forward through a dazzling void of darkness and light. Merrin closed her eyes, blinded by the brilliance, feeling herself tense with expectation. It was like being suspended in the midst of a thunderstorm, this feeling of utter insignificance in the face of unbelievable magical power. She shuddered, reaching through the nothingness to draw her cloak close, and remembered that it wasn't there.

The coils of magic deposited her neatly on her feet, boots touching rock, and Merrin had to stand and blink away the dazzling afterimages. There was mirrorlike blue in every direction, painfully reflecting light into her eyes. Half blinded, she raised an arm to shade her eyes and squinted.

The vast flat panorama made her catch her breath. Deep navy blue spread to the horizon, spread past the horizon, its only betrayal that of wavelets and ripples from nonexistent disturbances. There was no wind, only a vague moisture in the air from the endless ocean. The sun - which had reflected on the water to blind her - beat down with zealous intensity on the only living creatures it could pinpoint. Namely, Merrin and Garthag, and in a moment Kendath and Adeila.

For the first time, Merrin looked down. And down, and down. The rock pinnacle reached out of the ocean as though planted there, dwarfing her tiny form atop it, making Merrin's knees go momentarily weak with the drop. As if the gods, at the creation of the world, had sunk it there as a landmark, it was the only break in the endless sea for miles around. Merrin took the smallest step forward, peering down. The sight of sharp rocks at the bottom, like eager teeth, greeted her tentative eyes. Already the sun was making her uncomfortably warm.

Vertigo - that she'd never felt adragonback - assaulted her momentarily. She stepped back, dizzy, and looked in consternation first at the blue door in the air and then at Garthag, on the opposite side of the tiny platform atop the rocky needle of stone.

There was an awkward pause when Merrin met the mage's eyes. She drew herself up, already flushing crimson from the memory of what he'd said. Instead of making a comment along the lines of an apology - she had nothing to apologize for, not to Garthag - she turned to glance first at the portal, awaiting Kendath and Adeila, then down once more at the sharp rocks perhaps more than a mile below.

When she brought her eyes up once more, there was the slightest split second where something, materializing in the air, winked out of existence. Merrin sucked in a breath and turned to fix her eyes on the portal.

_________________

The first sensation Kendath experienced upon stepping out from the portal was one of falling over. The slab of rock stretched a mere ten feet widthwise, perhaps a bit longer lengthwise, and the endless sweep of blue further served to dwarf it. He stood for a moment on the stone landing to blink and let his eyes adjust to the radiant marriage of sky and sea.

It took a few seconds for him to gather his wits before daring to move toward the precipice and peer over. What a glorious mistake. The view down, down, down to the jagged rocks and torpid waters below not only negated his previous attempts at self-composure, but it also magnified his vertigo tenfold. Was it just him, or did the pinnacle taper to a narrow point halfway down so that there seemed to be two rocks, precariously balanced in hourglass fashion on top of one another? In that case, his inner genius told him, A disturbance at the top of the pinnacle - a shift of balance, for example, or some cataclysmic event that'll likely occur in the next twenty minutes - will topple the entire top half of the hourglass and dump us all onto the rocky teeth below...

Shut UP!

And to his relief, his inner genius did exactly that. This spit of rock wasn't that bad, actually, he noted with some desperate irony. Granted, it decreased by notch or two anyone's tolerance for blue, but the Renegade mages didn't value scenery, as evidenced by the last test. Still, the ocean was a far cry better than -

Kendath...

A dagger snapped out from his belt in a heartbeat. "Who's there?"

Here, Kendath. Look over here.

He spun around. Where? Nothing but a vista of brilliant azure - everywhere, pressing in. The voice and its source were nowhere to be seen. But wait - he heard something. It vibrated a steady pulse on his eardrums, amplifying, amplifying, until it became a continuous ringing that pressed in upon his ears. What was it? It closed in on him, a steady drone that never ceased. He suddenly found himself keenly aware of the stagnant air, the scorching sun hammering upon his neck. A rivulet of sweat trickled down his forehead.

"Do you hear that?" he finally demanded, turning to the others. But they didn't - they probably had no idea what he was talking about. He wanted to bring his arm back and hurl his dagger - at who? At what? The voice, of course. Hadn't he heard the voice? Had he been the only one? Speak again, curse you! Where are you? But the voice didn't speak - the voice had fallen mute. Then what was the other noise - the impalpable noise, the incessant ringing that refused to cease? On and on and on it droned, drowning out all noise and thought. On and on and on and wouldn't stop.

Silence.

Kendath looked up. "What?" The word sounded tinny in the vast stillness.

Silence. It pounds upon your head, louder and louder, until you can bear it no longer. For you are alone, Kendath, and alone you will always be. And alone you must bear this silence.

His glance darted frantically from Merrin to Garthag. Didn't they hear it? I'm going mad.

That I cannot dispute. And the voice was laughing.

_________________

Merrin glanced once at Kendath with a tinge of uncertainty, bracing herself for what was coming. So far all was silent, except for the nearly nonexistent whisper of the nearly nonexistent waves on the rocks far, far below. To raise her eyes was to squint at a horizon that was the barest line between blue and bluer. The mirror that the sun made of the sea was painfully bright, enough that Merrin took a step back from the edge and closed her eyes, listening tensely.

"Did you hear that?" Kendath's voice broke the brittle silence, making Merrin jump. She turned, half-intending to ask what he meant, but in mid-turn she froze.

Merrin? The voice was clear and young, boyish. Knowing it would do nothing, Merrin swiveled slowly in a full circle. Nothing to be seen.

Merrin! Where are you, Merrin? Liand misses you. I miss you, too. Merrin felt her breath hiss as she exhaled, stomach clenching. It continued, and she stood, frozen, listening. Behind the little-boy innocence, something whispered. Something never clear enough to hear. Rhie's never met you, Merrin. Jayen's worried. Come home, Merrin. Why have you been away so long?

"You'll have to try harder than that," she said aloud, hearing her voice lose itself in the huge expanse around them. Poised on a pedestal between blue sky and blue sea, she took a breath of the hot air. Something rough and faintly moist, like dragon scales but feeling like no dragon she'd ever seen, briefly brushed against her. Merrin shivered in spite of herself. Try harder? the whisper she'd heard asked, silky smooth. Try what? I cannot imagine -

Don't you want to come home, Merrin? Adasin's voice seemed to interrupt. Why do you want to stay here? She heard voices, clinking of dishes, a clear trilling laugh. Don't you miss being Merrin Tanner?

_________________

"Shut up. I can't hear you. Leave... leave..." Kendath's own plea echoed back at him in the tinny silence. Taunting, teasing. How childish he sounded! How stupid and pitiful and...

Naive. Yes, Kendath. Naive. For was that not the word you used to accuse Merrin so long ago? Yet here you stand, no different, placing your faith in these invisible gods. And I thought you could sink no lower.

The flap of wings cracked the stagnant air. A curtain of scorching breath smacked his face. Even without looking, he knew who it was. He knew who it was, and he didn't want to look for fear of the vermilion eyes, for fear of the disdain and the pity - yes, pity - that would intrude his thoughts and topple his newfound, precariously balanced equanimity. But now the hot breath was rolling down his neck, and he knew Demon was waiting and wouldn't wait much longer.

He raised his head. It wasn't Demon. It wasn't the ebony dragon at all. The dragon who hovered before him was smaller, sleeker, and tinted pale green. Jade green, in fact.

A single word stumbled through his shock. "Why?"

You know, that's a fair question. Why did I choose you? Why have I tolerated you? Why did I not, in our highest chases through the clouds, dump you to the mountains and leave you for dead? You are alone, Kendath. You have always been alone. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever wondered at the cause of all your anguish? The sinuous neck arced close. One emerald eye blinked slowly at him. You, Kendath, are nothing. Nothing. Worse than nothing. Because nothing takes up space. Nothing is emptiness in the world and in the heart. Everyone hates nothing. Everyone feels it, and everyone remembers it when it's gone. But you, Kendath. Who will remember you when you're gone?

For a long while he could think of no response. All the same, he felt his gaze inevitably gravitating toward Merrin.

Gyre laughed. Her? Her? The Chosen of the Gods? Who is she, Kendath? Who are you? By birth you were the son of a priest, but you never heard the gods. By choice you were a Meiltha assassin, but you never killed without qualm. Now what are you? Dare you call yourself a Renegade, a knight of justice? Oh, but you amuse me to no end.

It was true. Gods curse it all, but it was true. He slumped. "What do you want of me?"

In an ironically humane gesture, Gyre proferred a talon. Only to show you. Show you what might have been, if only you'd been strong enough. Show you what might still be, if you make the decision. What harm can it do?

What harm, indeed. Only if he had something to lose. Which, of course, was a laughable concept. Stepping forward, he placed his hand upon his dragon's talon.

You won't regret it.

_________________

Arms twined around her waist, a child's embrace that couldn't reach high enough. Clear laughter echoed even as Merrin squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of what she'd see if she opened them. Such a rush of homesickness filled her that she had to clench her teeth, trembling almost imperceptibly. The embrace turned to a small hand in hers. Come on, Merrin, I'll show you. Don't you want to be home again?

"Yes," she breathed instinctively, a split second before her every sense rebelled. "No!" she gasped, eyes flying open before she could stop them.

Her stomach lurched. An inch - no, a fraction of an inch - past the toes of her boots, the stone turned to air. The rocky teeth below grinned hungrily up at her. Merrin stood there, motionless, for so long that she felt her limbs cramping, unable to tear her eyes away.

A sound, like a sigh, rippled through her, raising goosebumps. Merrin could have sworn she felt the wind of it in her hair. Poor Merrin. The sigh continued mournfully. Poor Merrin. So young. You never had a chance...never got to choose...

"I made my choice," Merrin whispered, feeling her fingers curl into fists so tight, her nails bit into her palms. The sound of her own voice seemed to drive away the sighing presence. She fixed her eyes on the horizon, away from the mesmerizing sight of the terrible drop downward. "I chose...I chose...I could have turned back...this was right. This was the only way, the only right way. I have to. Or I'll know forever that it was up to me and I failed..."

You chose? This time it was sly, insidious. For what do they call you Chosen, then? You had no choice in the matter...the gods drive you to exhaustion, push you until you collapse, drain you until you're empty. What happens if you end with nothing left? What have you lost for them? Images flashed. Jayen first, a grin lopsided in his tanned face. The twins. Their pictures faded to faint carvings, as though in stone, the details erased by years. She saw Vryngard, its highest towers dusted with snow and Meiltha pennants snapping in a chill wind, so familiar. Then a familiar presence touched her mind, a musical voice with the mental clarity no human possessed. I miss you, Merrin. Wyvern sounded far away; he almost echoed. Don't you miss me?

"You're not real," Merrin forced the words out, knowing that if she heard one more syllable from him she'd break. "You're not Wyvern."

No, the voice agreed, surprising her. But haven't you lost something else?

Irresistibly, she felt her head turning, slipping over the blue horizon, finding Kendath motionless on the opposite side of the great stone pedestal. He was standing rigid, as she was. She couldn't see his face. Words were becoming harder to force out. Her limbs ached with the prolonged lack of motion. Merrin gulped the still air. "Not him," she managed. "I haven't lost him."

With a cold rush of fear, she heard her own words sound the foregone conclusion. The whisper intensified, becoming the wind that stirred around her, suggesting that she move forward just the slightest amount. No? But you will. You will, because he'll never want to be close to you. You're dangerous. Do you think he doesn't see, every time divine fire flashes from your fingers? Who would want to be close to you, when legions of Meiltha and Shadowers pursue you, would kill you? They'd kill him, too.

She couldn't tear her gaze away, and Merrin found herself mute. She couldn't refute it. What if it was true? That she'd lose him - she'd already lost him? Her feet trembled on the edge, trying to brace against the power of subtle suggestion. You don't want to be Chosen of the Gods, it crooned. You don't -

Kendath was taking a step forward, his own boots brushing the edge. Merrin had no voice, no power of movement, only horrified, helpless sight. Stop, stop! she screamed mentally at whatever had penetrated her mind; so effortlessly, with such casual, deadly skill. The pain of cramping in her muscles only intensified. GO AWAY!

"Kendath!" she squeaked, finding no air to speak with, and no time to draw more. "Stop -!"

_________________

Garthag sat quietly on the platform, gazing blankly into the darkness and wondering what was going on for that moment. For an odd moment he had glanced at Merrin as she had arrived, but made not any effort to say anything about his angry outburst. As the voices seemed to reign in on his two companions Garthag grew worried and weary for he could only guess what was to come. Then there she was, a ragged dress, dirty and dark hair, pale features and flesh torn. Liliane carelessly almost danced into view with a slight smile on her face before stopping to examine Garthag. In a childish manner she crossed her arms behind her back and tilted her head to the right whilst balancing on her right foot. Garthag`s eyes narrowed in horror at the very sight of her, what kind of nonsense was this? What, if the two others could she her? Even worse, hear her?

Liliane, little Lily was the only one ever to have known the true him, the person, who simply wanted to be content and guard everyone else from harm. Yet in these dark days he could not allow others to know the true him, they were better off not seeing the true him and how he had lied about the truth, not only to them, but himself above all. The pity or anger, he would not want them nor welcome them.

Annoying aren`t they? She finally inquired with a crystal clear voice.

"What?" Garthag asked, managing to produce a rasping voice out of his lungs and Lily smiled widely to him.

They are annoying, the two you travel with, one a helpless peasant girl turned into a confused puppet and the other an even more messed up assassin, who doesn`t know what he wants. You should just kill them and save them the pain of having to deal with their fragile hopes of the future being crushed by the shadowers. Remember, how you didn`t want anyone to get hurt in the old days?

No, you should have already killed them. You were meant to be something greater, was that why you were saved out of all of us and why you happened to meet your brotherhood? You were blessed, but you threw it all away in a desperate attempt for more power yet after that you lost sight of your goals. What changed that?

"I..." Garthag uttered, but now the tone of his voice had grown more frustrated and desperate than from before. "I saw him.... that thing... even spoke with it. He was the epiphany of everything I despised in my youth and I still did. I saw what I would become in order to gain more power when my body would fail me."

He said with a trembling voice, that amounted to a mere whisper and he hoped neither of the two heard him. Yet when glancing at them, he realized the two were wrestling away with their own demons. He thought of shouting out to them or interfering, but he could not hear what they heard nor see. There was a hint of relief in that fact as he would not have to reveal anything to the two about this, his secret would be kept.

Honesty for once? It has never suited you brother... but speaking of death and old age, when are you coming home? Mom and dad are so worried, I am so alone at the moment and need someone to keep me company.

So why don`t you just kill yourself? It won`t really matter anymore, you can`t save them in any case... your no hero brother, you are a greedy and selfish man. I was your last obstacle from erasing your past, that was the only reason you ever saved me, to kill me, that you might take another step towards true power... So come on, just be a little selfish for a while and just kill them so you can get on with your life.

Garthag again glanced at the two behind him and at the dagger hidden in his sleeve, it might as well be true, those two would suffer more by going onward. It might be best to just kill them simply out of mercy, they might not understand it, but Lily would have, she had been like that. The more she would have lived, the more she would have suffered, he couldn`t have allowed that to have happened. For all that had happened he had to admit, that it was just as Lily said.

His family had been an obstacle before his studies yet it was he, who had not been able to let go of them. Anyone attached to him in anyway would have always become a hindrance, but what was he to these two? An unpleasant traveling companion, that they would kill at the end of their journey? Perhaps or just someone they happened to need in order to survive despite that they wouldn`t want to acknowledge it. The dagger flashed into his hand, but he remained still with his eyes glaring at the platform and a grin on his face. Lily changed the balance from her right leg to the left and tilted her head left with confusion ridden all over her face.

What`s wrong, aren`t you going to `help` them?

She inquired as Garthag stared at the platform and slowly raised his head, apparently to even `Lily`s` surprise Garthag was smiling. It was not a smile, that one wore when he was ready to kill, but when he was ready to apologize. His expression was sad yet happy in a bizarre way as he let go of the dagger, which spun trough the air and bounced off the platforms edge before whirling into the darkness below. There was a creeping silence between them as Lily had stopped smiling

"Forgive me Lily, I am not ready to give up on my hope just yet, but you always could. It was my job to make you remember, that there was still hope for you, that was what I wanted to protect you from, a hopeless, a devoid world. Can`t you think of anything more horrific than that?

I cannot."

Garthag said with a somewhat amused voice and as an answer Lily simply sticked out her tongue before shaking her head. The next second she had a sad smile on her face as she began to walk away into the darkness, there was no longer any lightness in her steps. Garthag also turned his back, but then spun slightly to see Lily`s back from the corner of his right eye.

"I´ll come home as soon as I can, I promise. All tough I doubt that father will be there."

Garthag added with a faint smile on his face.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!