Inheritance
by Miranda Hawkins

 

This started out as a Creative Writing assignment in high school. From there it expanded into a full time project which I'm beginning to feel is just about complete. Anyway, this is also my longest piece, so you may want to make sure you have the time to read it in one sitting. Enjoy the story & please let me know what you think. I always try to take the good with the bad. :)

 

 

The land of Allaria opened up before me as I topped the last hill that would take me home. It had been almost a year since I'd last seen my country and the beauty that greeted my weary eyes was enough to cause a gasp of awe to escape my lips. A warm summer breeze blew through my long, dark curls and caused my cape to billow around me as a herd of unicorns grazed near the sparkling water of Mauvillian Falls and a flock of pegusi soared high through the air, every move synchronized and graceful.

The joy of returning home rejuvenated my sore muscles, but also caused my heart to tremble within my chest, so instead of continuing on down the worn dusty path, I stepped off into the lush vegetation of the countryside and sat down among the snapdragons that dotted the wayside. The smell of fresh grass and the warmth of the sun reminded me of when I used to herd sheep with my father. We'd rest lazily under an one of the valley's ancient oak trees and father would tell stories of times gone by.

My favorite tale was that of a king named Derrick and his beautiful queen, who ruled the peaceful kingdom of Sidira. Their kingdom was usurped by an evil sorcerer named Jerrod and they were sentenced to death. Happily, with the help of some still-loyal servants, they managed to escape, but were forced into hiding for the rest of their lives, for fear of being discovered.

I was never satisfied with the ending of the story, and would constantly ask my father if the couple had lived happily ever after. Silently, he would look around at the slightly wooded hills, then down to our secluded cottage where mother would be baking fresh bread, and finally he'd look solemnly into my inquiring eyes and say with a smile, "Yes, Meghann, they did."

It wasn't until I was older that I realized the king in the story was actually my father. And once he saw that I knew, the subject was never really brought up again, not even in his storytelling.

As it got closer and closer to my sixteenth birthday I began to think about seeking my fortune. Tired of life with my parents our isolated valley, I wanted to see what the rest of the world had been doing during my life-long seclusion. A few days before my birthday I broached the subject with my father, but instead of the encouragement I had expected he flew into a rage, and told me I could never leave the valley. After all those years he was still afraid of discovery. We fought, but eventually the subject was dropped. I let him think that he'd had the final say, then, that night, I packed a small bag and ran away.

* * *

Only a week of being on my own had passed when I met my future mentor, Llanolin, in an apothecary's shop. Looking for an analgesic to soothe a raging headache, I accidentally bumped into him on my way in. My clumsiness sent us both sprawling to the ground, and caused Llanolin to losehis grasp on a glowing, emerald-green bottle which shattered across the floor. I immediately began apologizing for the terrible mess, but he stopped me mid-sentence.

"It's all right, my dear, it's all right," he spoke soothingly, his blue eyes gleaming from beneath bushy brows. "I'm not angry with you. In fact, I think you're just the one I've been looking for."

Bowing deeply, he continued, "I have been called a number of things in many different tongues, but you may call Llanolin; I am a humble wizard and seek a moment of your time to explain myself if you will allow it?"

Curious about the strange man that towered above me, I nodded silently and he continued, "That bottle I dropped was actually part of a very important spell, one meant to help me find a new apprentice. You see, it has become increasingly hard to uncover anyone with a talent for magic, but you, my dear, surely have it."

My brows knotted in confusion as I replied, "You must misunderstand, the only thing I have a talent for is mistakes, as you can see. I've already managed to ruin one of your spells, there's no way I'd make a good apprentice."

"Nonsense!' Llanolin interrupted. "I set the spell up so that when a person with magical potential approached, the bottle would be destroyed. The spell has selected you and now I must be the judge of how fine a student you will make; that is, if you'll agree to be my apprentice."

I couldn't believe my ears, but the chance was simply too good to pass up. My lessons began at sunrise the next day; I learned quickly and the more I was taught the faster the days flew by. Before I knew it over a year had passed since leaving home and I couldn't have been happier, but all of that changed one night as I lay sleeping.

Dreaming of Allaria, I stood looking down into the heart of the valley, when suddenly fire surrounded me on all sides. Acrid smoke burned my nose and caused my eyes to water. Then, slowly, within the flickering flames, images arose. I saw dark figures on horseback and my parents laying motionless, their bodies battered and bloody. Then it was gone and there was only the fire licking hungrily at my flesh.

That's when I woke up, my lungs aching for oxygen and the stench of the fire still charring my nostrils, and I knew that I had to return home. Llanolin listened to my nightmare the next morning and agreed that I had cause for concern, so he allowed me to return home for a short time.

 

* * *

Now I was home and I found myself beginning to dread the encounter with my parents more than anything else in the world. Prolonging my departure from the grassy field, I stared up at the cloudless sky pondering my nightmare and wondering what sort of danger it foretold, when suddenly the strong stench of smoke once again penetrated my senses, only this time I wasn't sleeping. Rising quickly, I easily spotted the source of the smell. At about half a mile's distance I could see heavy smoke and tall flames that licked hungrily at the sky, but it wasn't spreading. Knowing only strong magic could accomplish such a feat, fear pounded through my heart, but nothing in the world could have stopped me from scooping up my pack and racing, as fast as my tired legs would carry me, the rest of the way home.

The valley now reeked of dark magic so strong it caused my skin to tingle and my hair to stand on end. I stopped at the top of the forested hill that led down to the cottage and stared in horror at what I saw before me. Crisp orange flames were turning my childhood home into a pile of silvered ashes and in the fields, the sheep, my parents' only livelihood, lay freshly slaughtered. Needing, yet at the same time, fearing the truth of the fiery scene below, I forced myself down the hill, but was stopped short by the sound of hoof beats thundering down the wooded path. Desperate for answers, but even more desperate to keep my life, I darted off the dusty road just in time to keep from being seen. Following them with my eyes, I watched as six men galloped by in a blur of color, golden phoenixes emblazoned on their chests and scarlet cloaks streaming behind, like blood from a wound. The beasts that ran beneath them spewed fire and brimstone from flaming nostrils, as their equine eyes glowed an unearthly yellow. Like lightening they flew past, leaving a reek of death and blood behind them.

I made sure to keep just off the path while heading the rest of the way home and upon drawing closer I searched for signs of more phoenix knights, but my senses revealed nothing. Worry for my parents quickly overruled any further caution as I arrived at the back of the cottage and stepped out of the woods. Praying to the Goddess for strength, I circled to the front, but all thought froze in my head the instant I turned the corner. What I saw before me turned my legs to jelly and it was all I could do to keep from collapsing. My parent's bodies were lying where they'd fallen and fresh blood stained the grass. All was as it had been in my dream.

Suddenly I heard rustling behind me and as I spun to meet the sound my hand flew instinctively to a dagger concealed at my side. Drawing it from its sheath, I called out with bravery I didn't really feel. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

A handsome young man probably a year or two older than myself stepped slowly out of the surrounding foliage. I watched him warily as he walked toward me, his dark eyes seeking answers. When he saw my brandished weapon, he stopped his advance and gave me a tentative, lopsided smile. He was tall with short dark hair and a kind face that was slowly melting my heart, but it was his eyes that truly captured me. Dark and intense, simply staring into them made me feel as if I were being pulled into a void from which I could not escape. Confused by what I was feeling, I tried to look away, but couldn't.

"My name's Ian," he said, still smiling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was passing through the valley when I saw smoke. I thought . . . " His voice trailed off and his dark eyes flickered with some obscure emotion as he saw the two bodies lying on the ground. Then, his voice softer, he asked, "Were they your parents?"

I nodded, slowly resheathing my dagger as I tried to fight back the tears that burned my eyes. Suddenly I heard a low, desperate moan behind me. Temporarily forgetting about Ian, I forced my legs to work as I stumbled over to where my father lay, and knelt by his side. He was still alive!

"Meghann?" he rasped in a pain-filled voice.

"Yes, I'm here," I replied, grasping both his hands in mine.

"You've returned! Praise the Goddess! I'm so sorry we fought. It was wrong of me to try to keep you here. Please forgive me. I was only trying to protect you."

"There's nothing to be forgiven, you did what you felt was right, but I had to follow my own path."

"I understand, unfortunately your path can no longer be yours," He broke off into a coughing fit and streams of blood trickled from his mouth as he forced himself to say more. "Jerrod's finally found us. Your mother and I thought we'd managed to hide far enough away from his evil, but we were wrong and have now paid a tremendous price for our mistake."

"Being the only heir to the throne, when Jerrod learns of your existence he will seek to destroy you. You are destined to defeat him and regain the throne. Please, don't deny you destiny."

He broke off, coughing harshly and I knew my father would not survive the night. When he regained control, he reached inside his bloody tunic and pulled, from around his neck, a tear-shaped amulet of remarkable beauty. "Take this, it will aid you in your quest," he whispered as I stared in awe.

Deep red in hue and framed with intricate carvings, the breathtaking stone glimmered with varying shades of warmth, and seemed to possess, within its heart, a tiny living flame. Dropping the pendant into my slightly shaking hand, my father explained in a fading voice, "This amulet belonged to my father and his father before him and now it belongs to you. It will help you only when there is no other hope. Its magic was lost to me long ago, but I'm know you will be worthy of its help. The most important thing to remember is this; it can never be taken from you. You must give it freely or else its magic is lost. Do you understand?"

Nodding, I hung the precious stone gently around my neck and there it glowed, spreading a magical warmth throughout my body. My father's voice began to grow distant, sounding like wind through the trees. "Don't be sad, my daughter, what's done is done. There is no way to change what has happened here. You are destined for great things. Go in peace, and never forget what has happened here today."

"I swear I will not!" I whispered intensely, but he could no longer hear me, and as his hands fell from mine I felt a part of my soul wither and die. Collapsing across my father's silent form, hot tears ran down my cheeks and mixed with his cooling blood.

Unaware of how long I lay there, I suddenly felt a strong pair of hands grasp me gently by the shoulders, pull me unsteadily to my feet, and wrap me in a compassionate embrace. My eyes refused to work and everything was blurry, so, dazed and feeling lost, I allowed myself to be led to a nearby tree. I heard a voice, strange and unfamiliar, say, "Take a few deep breaths and relax. You're in shock."

Then I heard someone shuffling through a bag and a cup was placed gently into my hand. "Drink this, it should clear your mind."

After only a moment's hesitation, I drank it down. Smelling of herbs and bitter to the taste, the potion caused my insides to tingle, but it must have worked because only seconds later my mind began to lose its foggy quality. Slowly, as my eyes focused, my helper, who had been just a silhouette moments before, began to take on the recognizable form of the stranger, Ian.

"Do you feel better now?"

Nodding, I sincerely replied, "Thank you for your help. It means a great deal to me. I wish I had some way to repay you, but I don't . . . especially not now. I'm truly sorry."

His dark eyes boring holes into my heart, Ian replied, "No apologies are necessary. All I require is your thanks . . . and perhaps your name."

Smiling slightly, I replied, "Then once again, thank you. As for my name, it's Meghann."

A gentle silence fell, both of us trying to decide what to say next, then Ian cleared his voice and asked, "Would you like some help laying your parents to rest?"

Startled, my eyes jerked up to meet his. It was as if he'd read my mind. I'd been searching for a way to ask for his help, but couldn't find the words. Gratefully, I said, "Yes, thank you. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to do it by myself."

"What would you prefer to do?" he asked solemnly.

"Well," I replied, unsure of what my parents would have had wanted. " I suppose a pyre would be best."

He nodded. "You're probably right. We'll have to dig a hole to keep the fire contained and then . . . " Ian stopped, startled, as he saw me shaking my head.

"We don't have to dig a hole," I explained. "I think there's a fairly simple containment spell I can cast."

Staring at me in surprise, he asked "You're a mage?"

I shrugged, embarrassed. "Not really . . . more of a mage-in-training."

"Oh." He almost sounded disappointed and I wanted to ask him why, but before I could even form the words Ian asked, "What do you plan to do once you leave here, Meghann?"

Sighing, I replied, "I suppose I'll go to Sidira and confront Jerrod."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

"I'm not, but what else can I do? It seems my destiny has been chosen for me, whether I like it or not. So, my best chance of winning this is to go to him, otherwise I'll lose the element of surprise and thus my only advantage."

"Then you're determined to go through with this?"

"What do you want me to do?!" I asked, more angry at my own unsurity than Ian's questions. "Go into hiding like my father? Well, I won't! Jerrod has to be stopped once and for all!"

Angrily, I rose to my feet, but my legs were still weak, and gave out from under me. I started to fall, but Ian stood swiftly, grasping me around the waist and helping me to steady myself.

"All you all right?" he asked, his face taut with concern.

I nodded breathlessly, as his arms tightened their grip.

"I'm sorry," he spoke softly. "I didn't mean to make you angry, I just wanted to make sure you were serious about Jerrod. Now I know you are, and I want to help you if you'll let me."

"Thank you," I whispered, touched by his offer.

He nodded softly, then asked, "Do you think you can you stand now? We should get started; it'll be dark soon."

I nodded and he slowly released me so we could begin our work.

* * *

We lit the pyre just as the sun began to fade in the darkening sky and I tried to imagine my grief being consumed in the flames, but failed. Tears ran freely down my cheeks, as Ian stood by my side. Then I turned away, lost in thoughts and memories. I don't know how long it had been when Ian startled me from my reverie.

"Meghann, I must speak with you."

Nodding, I allowed myself to be led further from the blaze, wanting only to forget the flames at my back. "There's something I need to tell you, but I'm not sure exactly how."

Reading worry and fear in his flickering features, I asked softly, "What's wrong?" He sighed and I could tell he was struggling for words, so, grasping his hand warmly, I continued, "Whatever it is, Ian, it's okay. You can tell me."

So, finally, he spoke, "Very well, but you must promise not to interrupt me. Hear me out before you start asking questions, okay?" I nodded solemnly and he continued, "I didn't come to this valley by chance, I was following the trail of the phoenix knights." Softly, I gasped. But, determined to keep my word, I remained silent and he went on. "You see, I've lived in Sidira all my life under Jerrod's tyrannical grasp, and when I was young people would tell stories about what a great kingdom it had been when Queen Cassandra and King Derrick ruled. Once, there were those who believed your parents would eventually return and reclaim the throne, but all the stories died as Jerrod's clutch on the people grew tighter and the years began to blur. Then, several months ago, rumors began to fly that Jerrod had discovered the whereabouts of the missing monarchs, although there was never any mention of you, their daughter."

"Word had it that he was planning to send a party out to destroy them. I'm part of an underground movement to have Jerrod overthrown, and this was the chance we'd been looking for. Because it would look suspicious if too many townspeople disappeared at once, lots were drawn to see who's duty it would be to find the true king and queen. I won, but have failed in my task to warn them. Now, you are Sidira's last hope. I wanted to tell you sooner, but the time never seemed right. Forgive me for keeping this from you and for not being able to save your parents."

I shook my head slightly. "There's nothing to be forgiven, you were willing to risk your life trying, and that's what's important."

Ian smiled gratefully. "Thank you," he replied.

By this time the sun had completely set behind the mountains, leaving only the fire's light by which to see. "I suppose," he continued, "that we should begin setting up camp for the night."

Shaking my head, I replied, "I'm not sure it's safe to stay here, besides I need to let Llanolin know what's happened here; maybe he can help us."

"Who?" Ian asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Llanolin. He's the mage I've been studying under, and if anyone can help us get to Jerrod, he can."

"Then I suppose we should get started, unless there's something else you need to do before we go?"

"No," I replied solemnly. "There's nothing left for me here."

* * *

It took a day and a night to reach Llanolin's cottage, which rested deep in the heart of the Baulkein Forest. Along the way Ian and I exchanged stories. He learned about my life in the forested valleys of Allaria and I learned about his life in the lavish Sidiran court. Ian had been an orphan since the age of four, when his parents were beheaded for treason to the crown. After that he'd become a royal kitchen boy, and even though it wasn't the most prestigious position, he caught all of the palace gossip, making the job somewhat more worthwhile.

Soon after, we reached Llanolin's door. Not a flame burned in the cottage and, because it was late, I assumed that Llanolin had already gone to bed for the night. However, I began to fear the worst when we knocked steadily and still there was no answer. Ian tried the door and it swung slowly open.

A gasp escaped my lips as we stepped inside. It looked as if an army had ransacked the room and I could barely take a step without treading on debris that should not have been. It was more than my soul could bear. Less than two days after the deaths of my parents, my dearest friend and trusted mentor had also fallen to Jerrod's bloodstained blade. My legs gave out from under me and I fell to my knees. Instantly, Ian was by my side, but it was as if he wasn't even there. All I could think about was Llanolin lying dead somewhere among the rubble. The tears rolled uncontrollably down my cheeks as I sobbed silently, my hands covering my face. Suddenly, I found myself doubting whether or not I had the strength to stop Jerrod, even with Ian's help.

I jumped when a familiar voice spoke from behind us. "Meghann, what on earth's the matter? Why have you come back here instead of going to see your parents as we discussed?"

It was Llanolin! I couldn't believe it! Rising unsteadily to my feet I broke away from Ian and ran to my mentor, engulfing him in a tight bear hug, afraid he would disappear if I let go. When my mind had convinced my heart that he wasn't going to vanish I slowly released him and Llanolin said, "Thank you, Meghann, I was beginning to run out of air." He smiled, but his eyes were filled with concern. "Now, tell me, what's this all about?"

There was so much I wanted to tell him, so much I wanted to say, but the grief and anxiety of the past several days had taken its toll. Before I could speak my vision darkened, my knees buckled, and I blacked out on the floor in a fit of exhaustion.

Sleep was mercifully dreamless and when I awoke in my old bed, with subdued sunshine streaking softly through a crack in the curtains, it almost felt as if everything had been one terrible nightmare, but I knew in my heart it had not been. Then my stomach began to rumble and I was just about to get out of bed to go find breakfast when there was a soft knock on my door.

"Come in."

Llanolin entered with a small basket of fruit, sat in a chair next to the bed, and handed me an apple.

"Thank you, " I said, smiling. "I was just about to go downstairs for breakfast. How did you know?"

He just shrugged. "We wizards tend to know these sorts of things."

There was a moment of awkward silence that seemed to last forever, then Llanolin cleared his throat and said, "Ian explained everything. I'm so sorry, Meghann, this is all my fault."

I tried to interrupt, shaking my head no, but he continued, refusing to let me speak.

"Shortly after you left I, too, had a prophetic dream. It told me of your destiny and of a great darkness, which will encompass the land, should you fail in your upcoming trials. I tried to summon you but, something went terribly wrong and I accidentally conjured a demon. The creature flew from one part of the cottage to another, destroying everything in sight and then it attacked me. Luckily I was able to remember a banishing spell to get rid of it, but not before the thing dealt me a good blow to the head. I must have remained unconscious for quite some time, because when I awoke it was night and I heard voices coming from downstairs, which turned out to be you and Ian. I had the ability to save you a great deal of grief, but was unable to use it."

"Please," I spoke softly, as Llanolin hung his head in shame. "I don't want you to blame yourself. As my father said, ‘what's done is done'. What matters now is getting to Jerrod before he discovers my existence, if he hasn't already."

Llanolin raised his head, but wouldn't meet my eyes. "You're absolutely right, Meghann. I thought much the same, so while you slept, I attempted a series of spells along the Sidiran border, however, none of them appeared to work. It seems Jerrod has placed a shield over the entire kingdom which nulls any power I could have provided; only dark magic works beyond the barrier."

"That's going to make things for Ian and me difficult," I sighed. "I was counting on your knowledge of magic to help us."

"Unfortunately, that is impossible, but the amulet which now hangs around your neck should enable you to cast any spell you know. Were you aware that your new bauble has history? There is only one of its kind and was created long ago by a very powerful mage, a man by the name of Donaar."

I gasped. "The necromancer?"

Llanolin nodded grimly. "It took him most of his life to perfect the amulet, but how he forged it is still shrouded in mystery. A great number of scholars and mages alike have tried to discover how it was created, but so far none have succeeded. Despite this, I found an abundance of scrolls on the subject down in the library and managed to weed through them and sort out what might be useful to you."

Having said this, Llanolin pulled several scrolls out of one of his long trailing sleeves. "Take your time, I'm not in a hurry to get them back. Then, when you've rested a bit I'll send you as near as possible to the Sidiran border."

Taking the scrolls from his outstretched hand, I smiled. "Thank you, Llanolin. I really appreciate everything you're doing."

He nodded as he stood, but when he walked from the room I heard him murmur, "I only wish I could do more."

Sighing, I shook my head. He obviously blamed himself for what had happened and I silently wished for a way to convince him of his innocence, but feared that nothing would change the way he felt. Munching on the apple, I did my best to put the thought from my mind as I opened the first scroll and began to read. Steadily, I worked my way through all of the parchments, but instead of answering my questions as I had expected, they merely offered more subjects to be pondered. I decided it would be best to go down into Llanolin's library and do some further research. Knowing that my time was short, I got out of bed, dressed swiftly, and went rushing down the stairs, nearly colliding with Ian as I went.

"Whoa, take it easy!" he laughed. "Do you want to tell me why you're running around like there's a hell hound on your heels?"

Annoyed at his playfulness when there was so much to be done, I tried to get past him, but Ian refused to let me go. His expression grew serious, as he spoke again. "Meghann, you need to slow down. We have more time than you think and I'd feel better if you got a little more rest before we leave."

Sighing, I replied, "Ian, every minute we spend here is costing us so much. . . "

"I know, but you'll need your strength to defeat Jerrod, and to get it you have to sleep."

I started to protest, but he interrupted. "Just one more day; I promise we'll leave tomorrow."

Seeking a way to help him understand, I made the mistake of looking into his dark, pleading eyes and my resolve crumbled when I saw how worried he really was.

"All right," I sighed, giving in. "We'll leave tomorrow."

Ian smiled. "Good. Now, I want you to get some rest." Then he took me by the arm, led me back upstairs, and made sure I went to bed.

"Goodnight," he whispered. "Pleasant dreams."

But they were far from pleasant. Dark-skinned demons twirled madly around me, cackling with insane cracks of laughter, while misty phantoms swam though the putrid air, moaning over endless agonies. In the background a shadowed figure sat on a throne of human bones and drank blood from a yellowed skull. I watched in terror as the shadow reveled in the pandemonium that surrounded me. Laughing, the figure arose from his throne and everything around us slowly faded into darkness. The evil of his laughter pained my ears and echoed through my soul, sending shivers of dread through nerves I didn't even know existed.

When the form stepped away from the darkness, the shadows unwillingly retreated, revealing his face. Probably in his late-forties, he seemed unusually muscular for his age. Once he might have been handsome, but the cruelty of his visage and a ragged scar than ran vertically across one eye and cheek had destroyed any handsomeness he might have possessed. His long, peppered hair was pulled back in a low, intricately woven braid which hung almost to his waist, and even though we had never met I knew the man that stood before me; It was Jerrod, usurper of the Sidiran throne and murderer of my parents.

We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, his eyes glittering like ice. Then he sneered, sending chills down my spine, and I watched in horror and morbid fascination as his body began to undulate and change. Fear raced through me and I tried to run, but discovered my body was frozen in place. Closing my eyes in an effort to concentrate, I mentally searched my limited list of spells for anything that might release me, but fear cut through my memory.

To my horror, upon opening my eyes, instead of Jerrod's icy gaze, I found myself staring into the slitted eyes of a giant serpent. His skin glistened iridescently as a forked tongue darted in and out of his fanged mouth. Unable to escape, I could only watch helplessly as Jerrod slithered closer, swiftly closing the distance between us. When he stopped, he was so close I could feel hot breath on my face as he flicked his tongue across my cheek, leaving a thin track of saliva behind.

Involuntarily, I flinched. Jerrod laughed mockingly at my discomfort, then, slowly, he spoke, his voice dark and resonate, "What was Derrick thinking? You're nothing but a child. Killing you would hardly be worth my effort." He hissed a sigh as I silently fought with the enchantment that bound me. "I suppose I could spare your life, but you must agree to stay away from the Sidiran throne . . . forever."

"Never!" I cried, focusind all my energy on my entrapment.

"How unfortunate," Jerrod breathed, his voice flat. "I had hoped the daughter of Derrick and Cassandra would be somewhat smarter than her parents."

As he spoke, he broke eye contact and began to slowly wrap his repulsive coils around my spellbound legs. It was useless to struggle, although I tried, and soon Jerrod's reptilian body was wrapped tightly and nearly entirely around my own.

"It's such a pity that I must destroy you," he hissed softly, almost to himself. "We could have helped each other in so many ways."

Again, his tongue flickered across my cheek and I gasped as his hold on me tightened. Then, pulling back his head, Jerrod prepared to strike. I closed my eyes and waited for the bite that would send death pulsing through my veins . . . but it never came. At that exact instant a warm glow began to radiate from beneath my tunic. Power surged though me and, startled, Jerrod released his hold, reverting back to his human form.

"Impossible," I heard him whisper, in a mixture of awe and fear. "You wear the Necromancer's stone! Where did you get it?"

I couldn't have answered even if I'd wanted to. Already the pendant's power was draining from my limbs, which left me feeling just as weak and helpless as before, only this time I was having trouble simply trying to stand. Mentally, I gathered up the last of my resolve and prepared for the worst, but it never came.

Jerrod regained his composure quickly, muttering to himself, "It doesn't matter, I'll find out what I need to know all in good time." Slowly his image began to dim, and as total darkness enveloped me he whispered, "Until we meet again." Then he was gone, and I awoke feeling as if I'd never even closed my eyes.

My nightmare left me disoriented and groggy, so, slowly, I rose from my bed and made my way downstairs to the backyard where Llanolin was tending his herb garden. Watching him work, memories of the time we'd spent together flooded my mind, and somehow it was at that moment that I knew things would never be the same. Swiftly, I brushed back the tears which had escaped my eyes, just as Llanolin looked up from his weed-pulling and saw me standing in the doorway.

He smiled, the sunlight brightening his wrinkled face. "Hello, Meghann. I trust you had a pleasant sleep?"

"No," I softly replied, "I didn't." Then, with slight trepidation, I told Llanolin about my nightmare.

When I was through, he sighed, a frown darkening his features and making him seem much older than his years "I was afraid something like this might happen," he replied. "Jerrod must have detected those spells I cast along the border . . . but all is not lost; I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Follow me."

With that, Llanolin stepped into the dense foliage that surrounded us and I was forced to follow closely for fear of being lost in the thick greenery. Birds sang softly as the canopy above quickly hid the sun's bright light, leaving us in almost total darkness. We walked for what seemed like hours and just when I thought I would collapse from exhaustion Llanolin stopped and stood silently in front of an ancient elm tree. Words were mumbled that I couldn't quite make out, and then a small golden door shimmered into view. It glided open and I silently followed Llanolin inside. The door closed softly behind us, and although no words were spoken, a golden light which had no source suddenly filled the room, flickering faintly.

Awestruck, all I could do was stare. Everywhere I looked battle equipment lay, and all of it glimmered with a thin layer of golden dust. Llanolin wove his way though row after row of glittering chain mail and shimmering weapons, with me following right on his heels, and when he finally stopped I barely kept myself from running into him.

Gently, he picked up a golden-sheathed sword from the stand where it had rested for who knew how many centuries. Its scabbard was encrusted with so many gems that I couldn't name them all and the hilt held four stones that were so beautiful they defied description. Carefully, Llanolin removed the sword from its sheath revealing a blade like none I'd ever seen. Bright blue in sheen, it seemed to be made of liquid magic which undulated in slow erratic swirls and spirals. Llanolin arced it slowly through the air and the sword sung with each graceful sweep.

"Amazing, isn't it?" he whispered, sensing my awe; I could only nod in response. "It was created especially for the king of the Ancient Ones almost five-thousand years ago. The jewels were collected by pixies from the world over and the hilt carries the power of the very Elements themselves. Not only that, but the blade was constructed by a dwarf, whom most agree, was the greatest blacksmith that ever lived. He used pure magic to forge it and then cast a spell to make the bearer of the sword invincible against all mortal foes. The process took nine-hundred years to complete and once finished, it was presented to the king of the Ancient Ones, who used it to wage war against the goblin tribes which plagued his lands. Eventually, though, their battles grew so violently devastating that they began to affect the mortal population. To avoid further damage to the planet's natural balance the Goddess transported both factions to the astral plane, and there they will stay, waging war on each other until the end of time. Since the astral plane supports only spiritual manifestations, everything physical, such as the things you see around you, had to be left behind.

I came upon this place by accident when I was younger, but I've never had any need for items of war. . . until now. With this sword Ian will be invincible against any mortal attack. It will be your job to protect him from any magic that may interfere." He replaced the sword in its scabbard and then knelt, pulling an ebony chest out from underneath the stand where the sword had rested only moments before. "Now I have a gift for you," he said, unclasping the chest.

Inside, on a mass of black satin cloth, was a silver dagger of the most marvelous craftsmanship I'd ever seen. Intricate carvings of the Ancient Ones adorned its hilt and the obsidian blade had a series of runes etched in silver on its surface. "This dagger," Llanolin explained, "will always fly straight and true." He handed it to me and then carefully removed the black satin cloth, which, once unfolded, revealed itself to be a finely woven cloak. "This I also give to you. It has the ability to make its wearer invisible. These things are yours for the journey, and since the magic of the Ancient Ones throbs through them, there powers should not diminish once inside Sidira's shield."

Speechless, I hugged Llanolin fiercely, and walking home, I must have thanked him a thousand times, but he merely smiled knowingly and didn't complain. Reaching the cottage, I found Ian in the kitchen, packing. Not wanting to worry him, I remained silent about my nightmare, and when I told him of Llanolin's gifts he was overjoyed.

His face was exuberant, but serious when he spoke. "Llanolin has given us an advantage, but we must be careful, Meghann. To become overconfident would be dangerous."

Nodding in agreement, I suddenly felt he needed to know my true fear. "Ian, I don't feel ready for this," I whispered

He smiled with understanding and replied, "Neither do I, but somehow I know we'll come through this okay." Then, together, we finished packing the supplies.

* * *

It was late afternoon when we said goodbye to Llanolin and he transported us to Sidira's border. From there we proceeded cautiously, not knowing whether or not Jerrod had sensed our arrival. We made good time, passing through Sidira's meager farmlands with ease, and eventually we reached the outskirts of a large forest.

"The Veridian Forest surrounds Sidira's inner city from all sides," Ian said as the sun began to set in the distance. "It would be safer if we waited till morning to continue. Wolves haunt the woods at night."

We set up camp quickly and started a small fire blazing just as the sun fell below the hills. Supper was eaten in silence and afterwards Ian went in search of more firewood. Alone, I found myself drawn to the pulsing fire, becoming lost in the intricacies of the leaping flames. It wasn't long before memories and not flames danced before my eyes, haunting me with abstract reminders of a life which could never be mine again.

Suddenly, a hand landed hard on my shoulder, forcing me out of my thoughts.

"Meghann! Are you all right?!" Ian asked, obviously worried. "I was calling you name and you weren't answering. Is something wrong?!"

"I'm fine," I whispered, still slightly dazed.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he knelt beside me in the firelight, his hand still resting on my shoulder.

I turned to him and managed a smile, but avoided his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Well I'm not," he said softly, taking my face in his hands, but I l refused to meet his gaze, turning back to the flames instead. "Please look at me, Meghann," he whispered.

I knew if I looked into his eyes I wouldn't be able to keep anything from him, but there was no other choice. Slowly I raised my eyes to his, and was startled by what I found there.

"You really hade me worried," Ian whispered. "I thought that Jerrod had gotten to you somehow."

What I saw in his dark, hypnotic eyes was more than worry or concern. Was it possible he felt as I had ever since our first meeting or was it just. . . ? Then, before I knew what was happening, Ian's lips were pressed softly against mine, and everything in the world fell away, leaving only the two of us, caught in the moment, one I wanted to last forever, but was over as suddenly as it had begun.

Ian pulled back slightly and whispered, almost to himself, "I knew it wasn't my imagination, you've felt it too."

Smiling softly, I replied, "From the first moment I saw you."

He laughed gently. "I thought love at first sight only happened in fairytales."

"So did I."

We kissed again, longer this time, cherishing the feeling, but we were forced prematurely from our embrace when, without warning, Jerrod's men attacked.

They were dressed all in black and blended eerily with the shadows of the firelight, making it difficult to see how many there were or from where they came. In a flash, Ian's sword was in his hand and I had donned my cloak. Ian fought swiftly, cutting down one man after another, while I used my dagger to watch his back. However, having to retrieve my dagger after every hit made that a difficult task.

I had pulled the obsidian blade from the throat of my fourth victim when I heard Ian cry out. Fearing he'd been struck, I turned and found myself face to face with Jerrod. It took all my willpower to remind myself that I was still invisible. Then he swung around and in one swift movement had his sword resting lightly against Ian's throat. Fear overpowering me, I froze.

Time seemed to slow down and my hazy vision made it seem as if I were viewing the whole scene through a scrying mirror. My mind became muddled and confused. What had happened? One minute Ian had been fighting one of Jerrod's guards and now he was being held captive by two phoenix knights, with Jerrod's sword on the verge of drawing blood. Despite the blade, Ian tried to struggle, but a jarring blow to the head, courtesy of one of the knights, put a stop to that.

Jerrod's voice seemed loud against the nighttime noises as he spoke, "Where is the girl, the one you were traveling with?"

His question was followed by rebellious silence that Jerrod intended to break. Glinting in the moonlight, his sword slashed swiftly across Ian's left cheek and then was immediately retrained on his throat.

Blood flowed freely from the gash as Ian slowly began to talk. "She ran into the forest when the fighting started," he stammered in falsified shock. "I haven't seen her since."

An evil smile slid across Jerrod's face. "I knew she was weak! No doubt, she ran like a frightened rabbit at the first hint of blood!" He spoke to the knights. "I want troops combing the forest, she must not escape me!"

Both knights nodded, then one spoke. "What shall we do with the traitor, M'lord?"

"Take him to the dungeons," Jerrod replied. "He may be of use to me."

Listening to Jerrod's words, anger and heartache raced though me, pushing away my fear. Hands clenching into fists, the blade of the obsidian dagger bit sharply into my palm. That's when I knew what had to be done, and before my brain could even register what my body was doing, the dagger was flying straight for Jerrod's heart. But suddenly the air began to crackle and blue flames flashed around the small group. Momentarily blinded, I shielded my eyes and when my vision returned to normal, only a dispersing cloud of yellow smoke told me where the men had stood and, my dagger, having missed its mark, was lodged in a nearby tree.

"No!" I cried, my heart twisting in knots, but there was nothing I could do; Ian was gone. Now there was no time for a leisurely stop as there had been before, because if I didn't hurry I was going to lose the love I'd only just found.! Fearing Jerrod's plans for Ian, I swiftly retrieved my dagger, packed up his discarded sword, and started my long trek through the forest, toward Sidira.

Eluding Jerrod's phoenix knights was easy with the cloak and it was a little after dawn when I arrived at the Sidiran gates, and strolled, undetected, past the guards on duty. Slipping into the castle was almost too easy. Most of the peasants seemed to give it a wide berth, and those who did have business within appeared to get in, get it done, and get out as quickly as humanly possible. Jerrod's servants scurried around in fear, reminding me of timid little field mice, like the ones that used to live in the fields of Allaria. It didn't take much to avoid them and soon I managed to find my way to the dungeon that wove like a labyrinth underneath the castle's floors.

As I passed cell after cell, searching for the one that held Ian captive, it became obvious to me why the people feared Jerrod as much as they did. Moans and wails carried from every inhabited space, echoing through the fire-lit darkness. My heart longed to reach out to the tortured people that sat suffering in the cells around me, but common sense kept me from doing so. Jerrod's destruction was first priority, after that there would be plenty of time to release these miserable souls.

The further I walked the darker it got and soon I had to rely on other senses to make up for my lost sight. Sounds began to die out behind me until the only things audible were my whispered breaths and hushed footsteps. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, I saw a light up ahead and, although no new noises reached my ears, I continued cautiously around the corner.

Stepping into the room, an awful odor filled my nostrils; it stank of burning flesh mixed with sweet decay and hidden fears mingled with endless pain. It was a reek I had smelled only twice before, but would remember for the rest of my life . . . dark magic. The vast room in which I stood was actually a cavern of pure onyx. There was a feeling of ancientness about it, something that told me it had existed long before the castle had stood, and would continue to exist long after the stones above had crumbled to dust. Nebulous figures seemed to dance in the shadows caused by the flickering firelight, all the while murmuring softly of evil deeds done eons past.

Sparse in appearance, the vast cavern housed only two items which I could easily distinguish in the meager torch flames. One was a tall obsidian pillar covered in ancient runes, which stood tall in the center of the dark chamber; the other was a large iron brazier which was placed slightly to the side of the pillar and had more runes encircling its shallow outer rim. Instinct begged me to turn and escape while I could, but my conscious mind refused to obey. Slowly my feet drew me closer, so close that I could have reached out and placed my hand within the brazier, but revulsion drew me back; the morbid container was brimming with blood.

Suddenly, something, somewhere, moaned. Barely audible, its mournful tone touched my very soul. Following the sound, I rounded the corner of the wide runic pillar, looking out into the shifting darkness. Then the moan sounded again, it's forlorn whisper right at my back. I spun quickly, nearly throwing myself off balance, but that was not what caused me to fall roughly to my knees.

A lone figure hung from the tall black pillar, chained by just his arms, while blood puddled at his dangling feet. And although his face was hidden in shadow, I knew it was Ian. Biting my lip to hold back the tears that begged to flow, I stared in horror at what Jerrod had done. Ian's shirt had been stripped away and a series of runes had been carved deeply into his flesh. Blood had crusted over the facial wound he'd received the day before and dried trails of salt on his cheeks told tales of pains I could only imagine.

I forced myself to stand on weakened knees and walk closer to feel his pulse. Although faint and erratic, I let out the breath I'd been holding and whispered, "Ian, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

I waited for him to speak, but there was only silence. Fearing that he would die if I didn't do something quickly, I reached up and began to fumble with his chains, but they were locked with magic I didn't have the power to nullify. Afraid for Ian, but not knowing what to do, I carefully wrapped my arms around him, holding his body close.

"Don't worry, " I whispered softly, as tears trickled down my cheeks, "I won't let you die here." Then I closed my eyes and let the tears flow silently, all the while praying to the Goddess for a miracle I feared could never come. Suddenly, the amulet began to throb at my throat, sending warm currents of magic through my body. Awestruck, I released Ian and stared in wonder as glittering veins of golden light traveled slowly through my arms and down into my fingertips.

A soft feminine voice echoed through my mind. "Do not be afraid. Embrace your true love a second time and he will be healed, then touch your fingers to his chains and they will disappear. Hurry if you wish to save him, his life force is fading fast."

Then the voice dimmed and the amulet's brilliance died but the glow that enveloped my hands and arms remained strong, so, obeying the voice's instruction, I wrapped my arms tightly around Ian and whispered thanks to the Goddess for her help. I felt the magic slowly drain out of me, but only when Ian's heartbeat steadied and his breathing evened did I release him.

Healed, I watched with joy as Ian awoke. "Meghann?" he mumbled. "What . . . where are we?"

"Somewhere beneath the castle," I whispered. "Now, hush. Save your strength until I can get you down." Then, using the last of the sparkling magic in my fingertips, I got rid of his chains.

Not expecting to be free so soon, Ian collapsed, but I caught him before he could fall completely to the ground. He tried to smile as I released him, but it came out more like a grimace.

"Are you still in pain?" I asked, worried.

"He shook his head. "No, there's no pain . . . just a little disorientation, that's all."

"You're sure?" I asked again.

Ian nodded. "Yes, now stop worrying about me and let's get out of here."

I shook my head. "I can't leave yet. This cavern is the source of Jerrod's power; if I can destroy it, I can destroy him."

"No, Meghann, you don't understand. I've seen the power this place commands; it's pure evil. There's no way to destroy it."

"There has to be," I denied, "otherwise, we, and all of Sidira, are lost! Please, Ian, let me try!"

Knowing he couldn't change my mind, Ian nodded with grim understanding as I relinquished the sword and cloak to him for safekeeping. "Be careful," he whispered, kissing me softly.

"I will."

He stepped away, becoming lost in the thick shadows of the room, and suddenly I felt very alone. So, saying a silent prayer to the Goddess, I began my incantations. Words of power fell from my lips as my body and mind entered the trance-like state associated with stronger magic. My father's pendant began to hum deeply against my throat, then, before I could cover my eyes, a stream of amber fire erupted from its center, striking the brazier and cleaving it in two. The force knocked me back, but I kept my footing as the warm blood that had stained the brazier, washed over the toes of my leather boots. Crackling and popping with magical friction, the air seemed electrified, and as the feeling faded I could sense that Sidira's shield would not be working again for quite sometime.

Success over the first spell rushed energy through my weakening limbs as I prepared for a second assault. Once again the amber fire lanced from the amulet's heart, but instead of the obsidian block's destruction, it fought back with magic of its own. Caught off guard by the blood-red orb of light which engulfed me, I broke jarringly from my trance. All I could see was red, and distantly, as if from the bottom of a deep well, I heard Ian calling my name. I tried to answer, but suddenly, the red magic exploded around me and everything faded to black.

* * *

When I awoke, I was lying on my back in total darkness. The ground was hard and cold beneath my skin and the only sound that penetrated the darkness was that of water slowly dripping off stone. Attempting to sit up I discovered that I was bound with what felt like thick cords of coarse rope, and as my grogginess began to fade, leaving my head aching, but clear, I had to force down the panic that threatened to incapacitate me. Trying hard not to make anymore sound than necessary, I murmured a spell that produced a small orb of light no bigger than my fist. Giving off barely enough illumination to compete with a single torch, it hovered nearby, bobbing rhythmically with my breathing and enabling me to peer into the surrounding darkness.

Positioned in the center of the room and elevated about four feet off the ground on a nondescript stone block, I could see that the room was fairly small and circular. Bottled chemicals and musty leather-bound books filled the shelves that lined the walls, and bats, which had been roosting in the rafters above, began to cry out at the breach of darkness. Ignoring them, I calmly maneuvered my arm around the ropes until I could reach the obsidian dagger which was concealed beneath my tunic. Pulling it free, I cautiously began to saw at my coarse bindings.

"Meghann?" a voice whispered close to my ear.

I gasped as my blade clattered noisily to the ground.

"Whoa! Take it easy, it's just me," the voice said, then Ian's face appeared from nowhere, magical sword in one hand and the cloak of invisibility in the other. He laid the cloak across the end of the stone tablet and used his sword to cut my bindings.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "It took me forever to find you. There are phoenix knights everywhere."

"I'm fine," I whispered back, but as I sat up, free of the ropes, every muscle in my body began to protest otherwise. "What happened?"

Ian shook his head. "I'm not sure. A bright red light blinded me, and by the time I could see again, you were gone. I could only guess about where the spell had taken you. Do you remember anything after that?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "No, I don't remember anything until just a few minutes ago, when I woke up here. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Several hours, at the least. Why? Does it matter?"

"I don't know, but let's not wait around to find out."

Nodding, Ian grasped me gently around the waist and helped me off the tablet. We embraced warmly, feeling safe and without fear while in each other's arms, but it was short lived. As we headed for the stairs, a green spear of light shot through the shadows, shattering my orb and plunging us into total darkness. Hugging Ian close, I watched in fascinated horror as a hidden skylight opened in the ceiling revealing a full moon in the cloudless sky above.

Then, an evil voice resonated from the shadows. "Leaving so soon? I had so hoped you would stay the night."

The voice's owner stepped out of the darkness and into the moonlight, looking every bit like the nightmare image from before. In one smooth movement Ian placed his body between Jerrod and myself and drew his enchanted sword up even with the sorcerer's throat.

Jerrod sneered, eyeing the sword like a dragon would a bucket of water. "Foolish boy! Do you really think that blade can do me any harm?"

I could sense the determination surging through Ian's body as he muttered, "Let's find out," Then he raised the blade and arced it down across Jerrod's outstretched hand.

Metal connected and slid smoothly through flesh and bone, severing the appendage neatly at the wrist. The sorcerer's roar echoed through the rafters, and fire blazed in his eyes as he pulled the bloody stump close to him. Jerrod's hand, which had landed at my feet, twitched, as if trying to escape the burden of the jeweled rings that weighed it down, but after several seconds it was still.

"You'll pay for that, boy!" Jerrod cried as he drew his sword and brought it crashing down against Ian's. "I'll cut out your eyes and feed them to my hydra! Then, I'll slit you open, pull out your intestines and hang you with them from the highest turret, so that the vultures can tear the flesh off your bones!"

"You'll have to catch me first!" Ian shouted, dodging around a table of foul-smelling chemicals. Jerrod, following close behind, knocked over the table, ignoring the crunch of glass beneath his boots, and the hole that the sizzling potions created though the stone floor.

Ian weakened quickly, but Jerrod, even with blood pulsing steadily from his stumped arm, didn't seem to tire. I shifted nervously, feeling helpless, and it was then that my feet sent something small and glinting skittering through the shadows. My dagger! Hoping to help Ian, my attention left the battle as my eyes sought the dagger, and it was then that the worst happened. Behind me Ian cried out, his voice hoarse with fatigue. Whirling, I saw that he had somehow lost his sword and Jerrod had him pinned against the same stone table that had so recently held me captive. Then the sorcerer raised his sword to strike!

"No!" I cried, running to Ian's rescue. Instinct took over as I threw my arms tightly around Jerrod's neck and jerked him off balance.

"You are beginning to annoy me, girl!" he bellowed, grasping my arm with his bony fingers. His black nails dug into my flesh, and before my mind registered what was happening I was flying through the air, headed straight for a shelf of dusty books. Hitting hard, I collapsed to the stone floor, stunned and unable to protect myself against the barrage of mildewed literature that followed.

Bruised and bleeding, I scrabbled through the debris, preparing for a second assault, but was stopped short by the scene before me. Ian, still weak from his earlier resurrection, had physically collapsed, face up, across the stone table, and Jerrod, having recovered quickly from my mild attack, stood over him, his sword poised delicately at Ian's throat. Desperately, I racked my brain for anything that could stop Jerrod, but I could only watch helplessly as the sorcerer laughed maniacally over his victory.

"Please . . . don't," I whispered, my mind going numb. But he ignored me, never even taking his eyes off his pinned-down prize.

Then he spoke, his voice cold and distant, "I want to know one thing before I destroy you, boy, what made you think you could betray me and live? What could you possibly believe was worth dying for?"

Ian, barely conscious, flickered his eyes over to briefly meet mine, saying so much in that single glance, then he stared defiantly back at Jerrod. "Love," he replied with as much strength as he could muster. "Something you could never understand, nor take away from me!"

"We shall see!" Jerrod seethed, and then, before I could raise a hand, he took his sword and plunged it deeply into Ian's heart.

Shock struck me like a bolt of lightening and I could only watch, eyes wide, as the sorcerer pulled out his blade and wiped it clean, while Ian's blood flowed freely, running off the stone table in rushing rivulets of deep scarlet. Frozen where I was, my heart wanted to deny what my mind knew to be true; Ian was dead.

Something deep within my soul cried out for revenge, and with my eyes I searched for anything that might make a suitable weapon. It was then that I caught the dark glint of something partially hidden underneath a pile of mildewed books, it was my dagger! Moving a hand only slightly, I reached out and grasped it tightly, comforted by the cool silver hilt beneath my fingertips. Relaxed and calmed by my desire for vengeance, I found the strength to stand and face the monster who had murdered my parents and the one I loved.

Catching my movement from the corner of his eye, Jerrod turned, a mocking grin on his scarred face. "You're still trying to fight me?" he asked, true surprise hidden behind his derisive tone. "It seems I have greatly underestimated you. Your parents are dead by my command, and your lover is dead by my very blade, and yet, instead of giving in, you stand to face me with only a dagger to defend yourself. Most admirable . . . so admirable, in fact, that I might be willing to make a trade. Give me the amulet you wear around your neck and I'll give you your life and your freedom."

Anger burned through my veins, scalding my soul. Never before had I felt a hatred so vicious, and so complete. "The only thing you'll get from me," I replied, steadying my tremulous voice, "is a shallow grave." Then I threw the dagger with all my might. It flew straight and true as Llanolin had said it would, imbedding itself deeply in Jerrod's throat. Black blood rushed across the stone floor, mingling with Ian's as I approached the sorcerer's convulsing body and watched him die. Blood pulsed out with every lingering heartbeat, each time growing weaker, until Jerrod's face was ashen, and his life was puddled around him, slowly congealing on the cold stone floor.

Feeling no remorse, I ignored the fresh body as I stepped over it to reach the spot where Ian' body lay. As I stared at his lifeless form I was horrified to find that I couldn't cry for him, even though I longed to my tears would not come; there was only emptiness in my heart where grief should have been. Lifting him, I held his body close, saying a final goodbye.

"Forgive me, Ian," I whispered. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. If I could, I would give my life to bring you back. Go with the Goddess."

Releasing his still form back onto the table, I knelt in the center of the small tower room, next to my lover's body, and prayed. But as my heart sought spiritual guidance, my mind refused to let me forget. Over and over again I saw Ian's death repeated, and the well of tears I thought had run dry finally came, bringing with them a new kind of heartache and grief. Salty trails left muddy streaks on my dirt-smudged face as I begged the Goddess for eternal release from the torment that now plagued me.

That's when the amulet began to thrum softly against my throat, giving off warmth, which gradually increased, almost to the point of being unbearable. Then the chain by which it had been held, dissolved, leaving the pendant free to float about in the magic-veined air. Suddenly, a voice spoke, and the jewel's light throbbed, keeping the same pulsations. The gem seemed to be a sentient being!

Hypnotically, it asked, "Would you be willing to forfeit all the power I can offer you to save this mortal from Death's eternal clutches?"

"If what you're asking is feasible," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, "then, yes, I would do anything, give anything, even my own life, if it would bring him back."

"Fortunately," the voice chuckled softly, "a sacrifice that great is not requested nor required. All you need do is prove to me that my power means nothing compared to this mortal's life."

"But how do I do that?" I asked, quietly.

"I cannot help you there, suffice to say that you must follow your heart."

My heart was telling me to take the amulet and dash it to pieces, but my mind was hesitant to do something so drastic, for fear of destroying the talisman before it's magic could help Ian. However, realizing that this was my last chance at happiness, I reached out with both hands and grasped the amber pendant harshly. Liquid fire raced through my fingertips, past my hands, and up into my arms. Pain racked my body, and I nearly let go, fearing I'd made the wrong choice, but the thought of Ian alive and in my arms made me strong.

Feeling as if my flesh was going to burn away, I held the stone up high and flung it ferociously to the ground, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. One by one, I watched as each piece transformed into a fine gold mist, which clustered in the center of the room, taking on a vaguely human appearance. Suddenly, the hazy essence raised an arm and shot a sparkling amber spear through Ian's chest. He began to glow softly, radiating a soft, gentle heat. The filmy spirit hovered there for a moment longer before vanishing through the skylight, leaving nothing but a trail of shimmering dust behind.

Pulling Ian close to me, I saw that his wound had healed, and in its place was a small star-shaped scar. Then, placing my hand across his heart, I felt it beating steadily within his chest and sighed in relief as his eyes fluttered open to lovingly meet mine. He tried to speak, but I ceased all his questions with a kiss as the sun rose upon a new day.

 

 

All poetry, stories, etc. ©2000 Miranda J. Hawkins. All rights reserved

 

 

 

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