Chapter 6

The human nose is capable of distinguishing 1 trillion separate odors based on the arrangement of an estimated 400 types of scent receptors. Only a handful of species, including the Drev, are known to have this sense, though only humans demonstrate it's use to such a high degree.

"Stop it! Don't let it get away!"

Feet rattled on stone behind Chalan as three docking guards held hard pursuit. She could hear them yelling orders to each other as she ran, her feet impacting the hard stone, sending shocks up into her joints of her knees.

She skidded around a corner, the voices falling behind her.

Good, she had lost them.

At least, that's what she thought until the Rundi pulled up beside her. Its long two-toed feet beating against the ground as it ran, its long neck holding up a surprisingly small bug-like head.

"Stop immediately, you are in violation of docking code four five-"

Chalan ignored it and cut sideways shouldering the Rundi violently in the side and sending it careening into a nearby pile of crates. There was a cry of pain and an explosion of shards and splinters as the creature came to a violent halt. She had forgotten how fast those strange creatures could run, though she wasn't going to have to worry about it for the foreseeable future.

It did not get back up.

She skidded around another corner barely having time to examine her surroundings as she tried to weave an impossible path for her pursuers to follow.

By the time she stopped, it had been a while since she had heard the last voice yelling for her capture. She slowed to a stop, and that finally gave her time to get a good look at her surroundings.

Things that hadn't clicked before began to click now. First of all, it was unbearably hot: Chalan knew hot, the hot of a harsh volcanic wind as it rushes up from rivers of lava but this, this was a bit different. The heat never seemed to end, it didn't come in waves, but laid over her like the weight of an oppressive corpse.

She didn't like it.

Next came the sky, and lifting her head Chalan was surprised to find that the light above her, rather than being blue was an almost yellowish green, tinted and sickly like a festering wound.

Looking down at the ground, she watched as the wind blew ripples into small hillocks of bright blue sand which piled against the sides of buildings: domelike and constructed of white marble. The only plants she could see peered over the domes; yellow in color and peculiar in the way they stuck up into the air like fingers.

Chalan turned in a circle.

What kind of planet was this: the sky being green and the ground being blue?

In the distance, she could see great hillocks of blue sand piled up into mounds as large as hills stretching off into the expanse.

She continued to spin in a circle overwhelmed suddenly by the alien nature of it all. It hadn't occurred to her till now, not fully sunk in that she was not on Anin anymore. She was alone, in an expansive galaxy, on an alien planet of which she knew nothing.

There was no one to help her and nowhere to go.

A hungry growling arose deep inside her, and she steadied herself against the side of one of the dome structures, while another hand rested on her stomach.

She needed something to eat.

But would she even be able to ingest anything on this planet?

Would she die of starvation before her mission even began?

Why had she not considered these things before?

Chalan took a deep breath and shook her head; no, she would not die here, of that she was sure. She just needed to find something that the natives eat, and then, possibly, there would be something for her as well.

She adjusted her cloak and bag over her shoulder before concealing her spear low against her side. Blue sand ground beneath her toes as she made her way across the hot sand blinded by the reflection coming from the buildings. In the distance, she could hear the churning of voices.

She turned, following the sound up the next passage receiving plenty of strange and nervous looks as she reached the main thoroughfare.

They had likely never seen a Dzhal before, or a Drev as they were more commonly called by aliens.

Figures shrunk into the shadows as she passed eyes wide with concern, fear and curiosity at her height, and her sheer strangeness. She thought them strange as well, with their lack of secondary rms and long, knobby legs.

The voices swelled up around her, as she found herself standing out in an open dusty square coated for one side to the other in that blue dust. On either side of her, rows upon rows of strange shelters shaded their occupants from the rays of the overhead sun. She lifted one hand to shade her eyes obliviously standing in the center aisle as bodies pushed around her.

A few passerbys looked up to scold her for standing in the way, but upon seeing her they quickly hurried about their business, unwilling to see what her response would be. Her translator popped on with the next wave of shouts.

"Sand fruit! Get your sand fruit. Just in season! Get your sand fruit here."

"Power cells, conversion plugs, only 100 credits each."

"You there, you look like you might be interested in what I am selling."

Countless voices washed up pooling together in an amalgamation of united clamor such that she had difficulty making out one voice from another. Glancing from one alien to the next her head spun with voices. She had never been anywhere so crowded in her life.

She threw her upper hands over her ears desperately trying to block it all out as she moved through the stalls. Calls for fruit were still going out, as she pushed her way through the crowd not knowing where to go or what to do.

Fruit... food.

She pulled to a stop by one of the stalls eyes looking down at the strange pink lumps that were laid out over the table.

"Get your fruit."

She reached out a hand.

"Hey, payment first!"

She lifted her head lowering her hands from her ears.

"Payment?"

"Yeah, payment, money, credits," the Tesraki rubbed two of his three fingers together.

She blinked dumbly at him, "What is...payment, money?"

He stared at her astonishment. He seemed almost offended by her words and stood for a moment, mouth agape in shock, "What do you mean what is money? Money is the sweet glorious substance by which the economy is run, by which we purchase goods and get rich enough to buy more expensive goods."

She looked down at her hands, "I do not have any of this...money."

Her stomach growled.

The Tesraki stared at her incredulously. Off to the side, Chalan noticed one of the shopper's arm was scanned, and with a beep, they were allowed off with their purchase.

How was she to get this money?

The Tesraki sighed, "Tell you what. You look big and strong...and I bet you can fight."

"Of course I can."

"Then let's make a trade. I will hire you as protection for my caravan. Protect me and my goods as we travel to the next market and you can have all the fruit that you want. Sound fair?"

She paused, looking the furry little creature over. What did she have to lose? "Deal."

"Excellent," he rolled her a fruit and she caught it in her two lower hands, "Meet me at that edge of the city when the sun goes down."

She nodded clutching the warm pink lump in her hands.

He waved her off, "Now scram, you are obstructing the view of my merchandise."

She scrambling into the shade of the nearby buildings to hide out the day while avoiding dock guards and satisfying her emptiness.

***

21 years previous

The sky above Anin was overcast with accumulated ash. It was the dark season, and sickly clouds clotted out the sun leaving the usually colorful landscape drab and muted.

The dwellings of Analos, sat under an umbrella of ash, lording over the land of darkness. Distantly, the ash was lit by a bolt of subdued blue lightning and accompanying muffled and indistinct thunder. The eerie blueness of the flash cast its pallor over the central cathedral with its dark spires which clawed towards the sky as if in an attempt to pierce the cloud cover.

The village itself was silent, but behind stone doors within the heart of the citadel life teamed, and voices echoed toward the vaulted ceiling; quiet hissings, gurglings, clicking and murmurings rose and fell.

An aberrant blue light emanated from cracks in the stone adding a bit of luminance to the austere darkness, while firelight radiated from coal sconces placed about the edges of the room.

Carved into the stone a few feet from the two polar sides of the fire basin, glowed two twin circles.

Despite its central position and an overabundance of space, the central floor was almost completely devoid of figures. Most of the watching eyes, ranging from orange to gold, peered silently from the top of the stairs with overzealous curiosity, while the figures themselves bent backwards into the shadows hoping to remain unnoticed.

As it was, there were only five figures occupying the center floor, standing just at the base of the stairs toeing the border of the leftmost circle. Two of the figures were clad from head to foot in glorious plated armor, which from its massive weight, bent the backs on which it sat. Massive horns curved from the tops of their helmets, and sharp spikes jutted from their shoulders matching the brutal spikes and jutting curves of their war staves; one gold and one a nebulous purple.

They waited in silence as the minutes passed on.

From somewhere in the darkness, the soft pad of footsteps could be heard, but no one acknowledge the figures as they stepped onto the floor at the opposite end of the room. Some shuffled from age, while others walked with a solemn confidence, their eyes staring vacantly forward. They stopped at the edge of the opposite polar circle.

Around the room, silence reigned, but for the crackling babble of the fires. It continued for a short eternity until the hush was shattered by the clatter of steel on stone. Heads lifted, and with the clattering of armor, the onlookers quietly turned towards one of the shadowy hallways. From its depths, a form materialized from the darkness.

She was an imperious figure of consummate grace and power, her pearlescent armor clearly demonstrating her exalted ranking. Tongues of golden firelight flicked shards of radiance off the opalescent armor before fracturing into a million rays of color which spilled down her body forcing the closest observers to look away.

All creatures could behold this glorious image, but those with the addition of ultraviolet perception were forced to look away from the resplendent figure as she glided across the stone. Even without the armor, she was a celestial figure glowing with an array of prismatic color which scattered, warped, and churned about her body. If her color, radiance and power did not proclaim her status than her height surely did.

While the most imposing Drev reached nine to ten feet tall, she towered at an imposing height of ten feet eleven inches. She was, in fact, the most beautiful creature to grace Anin's surface in over a thousand years, blessed by the spirits with beauty and fighting prowess.

Rizna, Sentinel of the Citadel, paused at the center of the leftmost circle surrounded as she was by a loose semi-circle of council members; including the Magnate, his two acolytes, and the two high generals.

"May your steel be sharp, and may the fire light your path in the dark."

Voices murmured the ancient greeting back to her with heads lowered in deference to her ringing voice of power.

The Sentinel planted her war staff against the cold black glass silently giving permission for the Magnate to take charge of the meeting. He did so with a straight back.

"Warriors of Analos, we gather together today in reverence of and to pay homage to the spirits above and below." Despite his age, the Magnate's voice echoed powerfully about the chamber enveloping the room with his presence, "Today, on the eve of the seventeenth moon, we offer a choice." The room turned as the Magnate did, watching him as he strode powerfully across the intervening space between the circles, passing the bowl of fire and standing before the group of elder Drev bent by their age and devoid of armor.

"Today you will be given a choice to prove your worth for this clan, or to offer yourself as a sacrifice to the spirits." Behind him, the acolytes burst into motion. One held a bowl in his hands, while the other prodded the roaring fire with a set of metal tongs. As the room watched they retrieved several blazing embers from the fire and placed them into the bowl. One held the bowl while the other retrieved a crude metal spear, which had been leaning severely against the fire bowl. Both returned to stand behind their master, heads lowered, faces and eyes obscured by cowls of coarse, dark cloth.

Gesturing to the acolytes, the Magnate stepped to the side. "Choose your fate; embers from the celestial fires and an immediate embrace with of the gods or," he motioned to the spear, "take up your weapons and fight on the front lines. Die so that others might live, or live and prove your place in the citadel as an acolyte." He raised his hands towards the ceiling, "but remember this: if you choose the fire, but shirk your sacrifice you will be an outcast; a blight, a disease upon us, and you will never be allowed on clan soil. Even our enemies will shirk your presence knowing what you have done."

The room shivered with the exclamation.

"Choose wisely," the Magnate muttered, motioning with a large sweeping gesture of his hands towards the two acolytes and their proffered offerings.

The room grew quiet as the Magnate stepped to the side leaving the path clear for the elder Drev to step forward and make their choice. And they did so in silence; most had already made their decision walking slowly forward without hesitation as they took up the spear and bowed to the acolyte who held it on the opposing polar side. The vast majority of the elders chose the spear, gripping the stiff steel rod with a hard, cold conviction born from a lifetime of continual warfare.

But there was one. She was old, debilitated and shrunken from years of battle, twisted by age and washed of all color. Her gait was halting and stiff as she moved up the stone, the natural movement clearly causing her great pain. She paused before the two acolytes, head down in deep contemplation.

The room was silent.

The moment hung like frozen time before she raised her wizened head, reached out a hand, and plucked a fiery ember from the bowl on the left. As the fire's heat made contact with her skin, it sizzled and hissed sending acrid smoke up into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. Her face remained still and emotionless without a hint of searing pain.

The room was filled with a hissing; a muttering of surprise and reverence.

The Sentinel, quiet until now, stepped forward in all her dazzling glory. The wizened warrior lowered her head in deference, yet her bearing was proud and resolute.

"Look up devoted one. Lift your eyes, for the spirits will soon accept your sacrifice for our people. During the light of our next moon, venture to the fire of your choice."

"Yes, my sentinel," she whispered, and was whisked away into the dark to be prepared and purified for her sacrifice.

The Magnate raised a hand to silence the whisperings in the room, "Delay for the time being, for we have a pressing matter to discuss." The room settled back into place as the warriors shifted in place.

The Magnate turned, supporting himself on the weight of his staff.

"General Lanus, General Kazna, your child has survived past the lunar marker and may now be presented before the war council for acceptance into the clan."

The room broke into a cacophony of muttered whispers.

General Lanus stepped forward into the light, where the entire room was finally able to see the small bundle cradled gently in his lower arms, but even as he stood, he did not remove its covering.

Together the Sentinel and the Magnate waited impatiently, "Go on general, present her to the clan so that the kit may be judged worthy of our ranks."

General Lanus didn't move, but instead opened his mouth to speak, "My fellow warriors... I will indeed present our offspring to the clan, but before I do... I beseech the council to grant me a courtesy..."

The room was again filled with curious whispers. The Magnate lifted his chin in surprise, intimating at an underlying challenge.

General Kazna shot her battle partner a look, "Lanus -" she hissed.

He stared her down, "You chose this pyre Kazna, and we shall both burn on it." Ignoring her, he turned back to the council who looked on in surprise, "Forgive me, your glory, but I must ask that you give us a chance to explain ourselves before judgment."

Around the room eyes were beginning to narrow.

"What is the meaning of this, General?" the Magnate hissed.

"Show us the kit," the Sentinel demanded.

General Lanus raised his distressed yet regal head and complied by lifting the kit in his arms and pulling away the bundle that had covered her. It fell to the ground with an ill-omened flourish.

A gasp of shock and repulsion rose up around the room as Lanus raised the child into the light proffering the tiny, groggy form before the light of the fire. Over the last month her delicate plate armor had fused and darkened to a beautiful lightning blue.

While exquisite, she was...so...diminutive.

"What is the meaning of this Kazna?" hissed the Magnate. "This is intolerable, that abomination should have been cast into the fire upon birth."

General Lanus drew the tiny creature to his chest protectively, "She survived the lunar marker, and despite her size, she is strong ... and beautiful."

"She is a runt!"

General Kasna stepped back as if she had been slapped. Lanus's anger grumbled deep in his chest. The kit squirmed in Lanus's large, outstretched hand, small enough that he could hold her with a single palm. The tiny mouth opened like a baby bird wide and pink as she yawned sleepily. Golden eyes blearily blinked open as her legs and arms began to flail. The tiny creature squirmed and wriggled, but the cry she let off was powerful, echoing to the very spires and disappearing into darkness.

"You hear that," Lanus urged, "she is strong, she is worthy. Give her a chance. I know she can prove herself." A muttering mushroomed around them. Words of disapproval and dismay slithered through the air like a parasitic infection wiggling its way into the minds of those unsure.

Lanus stood against the tide of hostility, battered but steadfast as he continued to hold the tiny squirming kit to the light. General Kazna remained still her head bowed, detached and seemingly disinterested in the fate of her own young.

"General Kazna, you have defied tradition and violated our rules," the Magnate spat, and for the first time in so many minutes, Kazna finally raised her head.

Two gold eyes blinked coldly from the darkness of her visor. "I failed my duty," she responded stiffly.

"No! Kazna!" Lanus spun towards the Magnate in frustration. "She doesn't know what she's saying, your glory. I have watched the moon rise and fall a thousand times since Kanan was born, and since him we have lost son after son, daughter after daughter, and now this one lives, and after all we have done for the clan you would reject our desire to keep what we managed to conceive. Have you no respect for who we are and what we have done?"

His diatribe was cut off by a thundering crack of steel against stone, "We are not responsible for your genetic dysfunction, Lanus. You two may be strong, and your first son is promising, but since then your bloodline has proven to be weak. Your honor, your sacrifice, your conquest means nothing here." The Magnate said

"Then why should we not cast you into the fire for your ailment?" Lanus hissed.

The Magnate grew very still, "What?" His voice was quiet and sharp like the scratch of a blade against porous stone.

Lanus straightened, "I said, why do we not cast you into the fire for your disfigurement?" When no one dared speak, he continued, "My daughter may not be an adequate size, but the spirits have gifted her with the color of blue fire and lightning and surprising power."

No one spoke for the longest moment, until the Sentinel stepped forward into the light, again dazzling the room with her magnificence. Slowly she crossed the circle and stopped before Lanus. He stepped back protectively, but she raised a consoling hand, tilting her head to look down at the kit nestled happily against her father's warm skin.

She ran a digit delicately over the kit's cheek. The little face turned towards her palm, and four grasping hands reached upwards clasping tight about the Sentinel's fingers. Slowly, she raised her hand, and the kit came with, clinging desperately to Rizna's hand with the power of its four tiny limbs.

Reluctantly Lanus let her go as the Sentinel took the kit into her arms looking down at the tiny face with the same loving nature that her very own mother should have looked on her, "She is quite beautiful ...."

Lanus lifted his head, a glimmer of hope radiated from his eyes.

"It is a pity she is thus disfigured. Guards restrain him!"

"NO!" Lanus lunged forward, but their response was too quick for him to rescue his daughter. Heavily-armored guards sprung forward, grabbing him by his arms. He fought wildly for the first few seconds, but a sudden spear butt to the back of his knee sent him painfully to the ground.

"KAZNA!" His call was desperate and pleading, but she made no move to aid him, stiffening instead against his pleading cries.

A spear to his throat, one to his back, surrounded by no less than five guards ... for they would need that many to subdue the general and a protective father.

The Sentinel ignored his cries walking across the open circle towards the flickering ribbons of the central fire. Sensing something wrong, the kit began to squirm and issue powerful chirps of fear and confusion.

Lanus fought harder, but a spear point dug even deeper into the soft part of his throat choking his cries.

With a swift flick of her wrist the Sentinel upended the kit dangling it by one foot over the roaring flames. The powerful cries of fear had now turned into screams of pain as fire and heat licked at its delicate skin.

"KAZNA, HELP HER!" The cry was powerful, rattling through the stone and causing the ground to quake with its anguish. Eyes turned imploringly to his mate, but Kazna refused to look at him hunching inwards against herself.

A bellow of anguish wrenched from Lanus's throat, long and tormented, "Chalan, no...."

The Sentinel stopped, the kit continued to ferociously wriggle and scream over the open flame.

"What did you say?" she probed.

Lanus sagged towards the floor. "Chalan, her name is Chalan," his voice was a desperate whisper, yet the agony in his simple phrase echoed in the rafters where it grew stale and cold.

The room was alive with whispers.

"You named this abomination?" The sentinel demanded. "She wasn't to be named until the first lunar marker. You know that."

He stared defiantly forward, "The spirit of the sun has sustained her."

"You have triggered a great problem Lanus, for discarding a named kit is not so easy as an unnamed one." Chalan screamed and wailed in agony as the Sentinel dropped her even lower towards the fire.

Lanus roared in anger lunging forward and throwing four of the five guards to the ground with a sudden surge of anger. He thundered across the floor hand drawn, preparing for a killing blow.

"STOP! Do not make your son suffer the consequences."

Lanus stopped mid attack looking up to find Kanan, his son, held by spear point to his throat. The young Drev was wide-eyed with confusion and pain as the two guards mercilessly drove him to his knees, "Father -" the youngling entreated in confusion. "Mother - "

Kazna looked up now, reacting for the first time since they had stepped onto the floor. "Lanus," she warned. "Know your place. I will not lose my son today."

A shadow passed over Lanus's face, "But you would watch your daughter burn?

Kanan groaned in pain under the ruthless treatment of the two guards, "It's – alright – father - help her." The young Drev was rapped swiftly over the head with the end of a spear butt, painfully lurching forward with a cry of shock.

The benevolence of his son's words drove Lanus to his knees trapped between his two children. How could he choose between them?

He couldn't.

The four guards he had thrown off earlier surrounded him once again making it clear they would not fail in their assignment again.

For now, the Sentinel had pulled Chalan away from the flames eyeing Lanus and Kazna critically, "For one who failed to throw her crippled child into the fire, you don't seem concerned, Kazna."

The general lifted her head, eyes cold and steely with only a shard of shame. "It was a moment of weakness. I have since recognized my error."

The Sentinel brushed a finger over the Kit's cheek, "Clearly not enough to return and do what you should have done when she was born."

Kazna lowered her head.

With the kit cradled in her arms, the Sentinel looked towards the Magnate, "What say you old one, what shall be done? The child is named, and it would be displeasing to the spirits were we to deal with her as if she were not."

The Magnate nodded his head stiffly looking down at the child with an expression of unconcealed disgust. The tiny kit wriggled and cried with the fiery pain that still ached in her little limbs.

"Please..." Lanus begged resolutely, "Please...."

Somewhere in the darkness Kanan choked against the spear at his throat.

The Sentinel lifted her beautiful head towards the ceiling, eyes shrouded, head tilted as if she was listening. Slowly her head lowered and her eyes released, "I may...have the answer."

The room was as silent as a stony sepulcher, and not even the echoing of heavy armor could be heard. "We shall deal with her like all those named who are disfigured with injury or old age." With one sweeping gesture of her scepter, she motioned to the two static acolytes, still standing with the spear and respective bowl of coals, to come forward into the circle.

"No!" Lanus said, "You can't, she's just a child, she doesn't understand!"

"Silence yourself!" The Magnate spat, and the fifth guard clamped a hand about Lanus's muzzle silencing him with impunity. He struggled, but was forcibly kept silent.

Together, the two acolytes gently knelt and placed their offerings on the floor. The Sentinel crouched low and placed the kit on the floor before backing away.

The floor itself was cool, the cold soothing Chalan's burning skin, a soft chirping replaced the cries. Her tiny beak turned this way and that searching desperately for comfort, but the Magnate and Sentinel blocked her view. The chirping grew more earnest and pleading, and together, they waited for the kit to choose.

The kit inched across the ground and away from the looming figures overhead, but she was corralled with only one way out. The chirping had died into a piteous moaning, but Chalan crawled onwards coming to a stop just before the spear and the bowl.

Somewhere in the room Lanus wrestled silently with his captors. The hall was a tomb, cold and silent and breathless. General Kazna turned away from the scene.

Mesmerized by the glowing embers, Chalan scooted forward, golden eyes bright and glittering. The Magnate readied himself to scoop up the child and prepare her for sacrifice.

Lanus moaned against his silenced mouth and struggled even harder. All five of the guards strained to pin him to the floor, and even then, his power was almost too much for them to counter.

With one tiny hand, Chalan reached out as if to pick up one of the embers, but as soon as the kit's hand neared the outside of the bowl she recognized the painful heat of the stone, chirped in fear and began to crawl away, instead placing her tiny hands on the cold metal of the spear. With a soft cry, she curled into a ball face pressed against the cold steel to soothe the aching, for no mercy could be found from the dark and looming figures above her.

The Magnate stood straight and lifted his head to the sky above, "The spirits have spoken." Looking down towards the small sapphire kit he continued, "The child will be allowed to remain in the clan. She will prove her worth through battle or die by the blade."

With a sharp click, he motioned the acolytes into movement.

The embers were cast into the fire, and the spear was whisked away into the darkness. The Sentinel, together with the Magnate, turned with the soft swishing of fabrics and vanished into the darkness. As soon as their figures were no longer visible, the room broke into a cacophony of voices raising like a tsunami towards the pinnacle of the ceiling.

The spear was withdrawn from Kanan's throat, and he was allowed to slump onto his hands and knees coughing and moaning. A few of the Drev soldiers knelt to see if he was injured.

Lanus was finally released from his captive position, and as soon as he was able to move freely, he scrambled across the floor to where Chalan was still curled chirping piteously in pain. "Chalan...Chalan...I'm so sorry." Delicately, and with his lower set of hands, he picked her up off the floor cradling her protectively against his midriff.

Sensing someone familiar, the kit began to chirp fervently.

"Shh, I'm here. I'm here. You are safe." His voice was quiet, barely an audible whisper.

A few of the soldiers stayed behind to watch the drama unfold, but many had turned their backs and were walking out the doors in orderly lines. Kanan struggled to his feet watching with wide eyes as the others trickled through the doors, only his father and mother remained standing on the floor below.

Lanus had opened his mouth to speak to Kazna, but upon seeing Kanan he changed his mind, "Return to your practice, son. I will speak to you soon."

"But, father -"

"Please Kanan," the young Drev did not argue, but couldn't help but look over his shoulder as he exited through the wide double doors.

When they were finally alone, Lanus turned on Kazna, face twisted into an expression of rage. Kasna stood unyielding with her back to him, not daring to look into his eyes which flashed a mixture of disappointment, anger, confusion, and something approaching disdain.

"How...could...you?" he censured sharply.

Kasna didn't look at him, and the room was silent but for the kit's whimpering.

"You - shame me, Kazna."

His words struck like prongs of glass buried in the skin. She turned suddenly, golden eyes alight with anger, "No, you shame yourself, if you had just-"

"No, I will not take this from you! You made a choice that day Kazna: you chose to let her live, and I supported your decision because we paired. And now, now that we finally have what we want, you want to destroy it because you are a coward. I know what you are doing, you're taking out your own weakness on her, and I will-not-have-it!"

Two golden capes billowed behind him as he stormed past her. Stopping short he turned his head in her direction trying to make eye contact. His words were so soft that they barely registered over the cracking fire, yet nothing could hide the horrible power of his anger. "As a battle pair, we made an oath to protect, defend and honor one another, but in my time of greatest need you abandoned me...and now I find myself wishing... that I had never stepped into that circle."

Somewhere in the darkness, a single pocket of moisture was caught by the fire, popping violently with a great shedding of sparks.

Embers floated in the air for a moment, like bright red stars in the night sky, only to fade back into their evanescent embers and vanish.