The battle raged not far from the Temple of the Shining One. They had received the call to arms just as soon as the messengers from the next town had arrived at the temple. At the head of the army of the Burning One, Averny spearheaded the charge deep into the opposing army's ranks. He had one goal in mind, and he was not going to let anything keep him from his appointed destiny. Finishing off a young initiate of light, Averny whirled around to find his brother Daric staring at him. "There you are, you treacherous worm," Averny addressed his brother, holding his sword at the ready. "'Treacherous worm'?" Daric asked. "What have I done to earn such a name, especially from you?" He raised his own sword into a defensive stance, not wanting to harm his brother, but still not willing to give himself up to death without a struggle. "You know of your crimes," Averny answered, as he drew his blade back and charged. "It was your order that caused Ilysa's death!" The two princes locked blades as the battle slowed around them. "What do you mean?" Daric shouted. "I don't know who this 'Ilysa' is, so why would I want her killed?" Averny kicked Daric in the stomach, releasing the brothers from their contest of strength. Then, charging forward, he lunged with his blade, cleaving through Daric's armor and impaling him on the length of steel. "You have become as corrupt as the rest of the people in this temple, and with your death, the throne of Sankria will be saved from your manipulation." Daric fell to the ground, pulling Averny's sword with him. "I would never betray you, Averny," Daric said, nearly choking as he spoke. "You have to know that I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you, brother." Having said this, Daric breathed his last. Averny placed one foot on his brother's corpse, pulled free his blade, then turned to face his men. "The snake has lost his head!" Averny shouted to his army. "All that remains is to burn the rest of it! Show no mercy!" With a renewed sense purpose, the Order of the Burning One pressed into the opposing army. It was a massacre, with the Order of the Shining One losing their will to fight back. Save for one. Averny heard a wail of sorrow behind him. Turning around, he saw a delicate girl about Ilysa's age kneeling next to his brother's corpse. She was dressed in the robes of an initiate of the Order of the Shining One, her long chestnut hair obscured her face. The tears that fell freely down the blood-stained ground accompanied the shudders of grief wracking her body as she sobbed. "Why..." Averny barely heard her whispery voice amid the din and clatter of battle around them. "Why did you have to die, Daric? I never had the chance to tell you... I..." The sight of the initiate weeping beside Daric's body brought Averny back to his senses. "What have I done..." he whispered, his bloodied sword released from nerveless fingers. "What have I done..." The sound of clattering metal caused the girl to look up. Grey eyes met bright blue eyes. Once again, the battle raging around them seemed far away. The girl named Joy seethed. "You..." Averny felt the rage reflected in those eyes, the same rage that must have had when he confronted his brother. He was paralyzed with shock and could only stare as Joy drew an arrow on her father's bow and fired. The arrow flew straight and true. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Yumina sighed. At this point, she no longer cared for this reality. Because of her meddling, Averny had become the tyrant that would have brought about the fall of Sankria if not for his death. Still, it was ironic. Joy, the simple peasant girl that she once manipulated in a previous timeline, had played an unexpected role in this one. Looking back, she berated herself for not seeing the obvious signs. Even without her prompting, Joy had discovered her talent in magic, and passed the MAGE entrance tests. She had just become closer with Daric when the conflict broke out. In the end the royal brothers still died, and Sankria still fell. It was almost as if the loom of events, once set, continued weaving the threads that make up the tapestry of Sankria. Influence one setting, and the changes remain in succeeding works. Despairing, she once again proceeded to rewove the threads of history. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Averny gasped, as he suddenly sat up from his cot. His hands flew immediately to his chest, and he frantically pawed at it for a few moments as he looked around in confusion. After recognizing his room and not finding the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his chest, he relaxed. "Only a dream..." he muttered, casting a spell in a nearly automatic manner. A small spark burst for a moment, and the candle on the other end of the room lighted up. No longer tired, he pulled out one of his spare spellbooks and a writing pen from the nearby bookshelf. "Who is Ilysa, anyway?... I wonder what Daric would make of this," Averny mused as he opened the blank tome and began to compose a letter. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The Gates Of Time An Improfanfic by Lady Brick Part Ten – Vindication This Part by Signus Megido ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Once again, Yumina watched the tale of the last days of Sankria unfold before her. This time, she made sure to remove the crucial piece that somehow bound the fates of the two princes. This time, her gambit must succeed. It must. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Pholian paced the chamber restlessly when the door to his prison quietly opened. The sight of the tattooed figure entering the room made his blood run cold. "Why did I agree to this? Why did they send you?" The infamous assassin Jehane Lin Raan, the legendary Blood Moon, showed her unarmed hands to the fallen prince. "You will remain silent. You will follow me. You will leave with me. Cooperate and you will not be harmed." Pholian paused for a moment, then nodded. Jehane's expression remained impassive. "Come." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ A young Ilysa walked along the dusty road, a pack mule and her dog Johan trailing behind her. At the young age of six, she had already learned the skills of farming and husbandry to survive. The plague that struck her village was cruel, taking her mother and leaving her father bedridden. It grew harder to go on everyday, but she must keep on working just to get by. Turning around a bend, she noticed several hooded figures blocking her way. Upon catching sight of her, one of them stepped forward. "Are you Ilysa?" The female voice was heavily accented, like those of the merchants in the trading outpost. Her heart pounding, Ilysa nodded. The hooded figures nodded, sharing an unspoken agreement. The speaker removed her hood, exposing her tattooed face to the young girl. "We wish to talk to your family." "Um... My mother has... passed away," Ilysa choked in reply, "and my father's too sick..." "From the plague?" The woman interrupted. "We can save your father from the disease." "You can?" Ilysa looked the foreigners over. "You don't look like traveling priests from the Order of The Shining One." "We are not... healers, but we have our ways." "Then can you help my father?" Jehane nodded. "Yes. Take us to your father." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The silver court of Mumar Avran, the caliph of Al-Solifa was now in session. Pholian had just returned from the conquest of another Sankrian city. Earlier an impromptu parade had the Cornerian citizens honoring him by chanting "My General" at his dark armored form. Pholian, now popularly known in the South as The Black General, bowed in obeisance to the caliph. Caliph Avran nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Not even when my ancestors first invaded from the southern continent has Corneria held so much territory. The people sing their praises to you in the streets, 'My General'." The vizier then stepped forward and stage whispered to the caliph. "Some say the people think more highly of the foreigner than they do there own caliph. Some say that the people are starting to believe that The Black General should sit upon the Silver Throne." Shocked silence filled the royal audience chamber. The vizier just gave a venomous smile as Pholian stared at him. Pholian coldly retorted. "Some would say that the vizier spends all of his time gossiping with women. That is why he hears only idle chatter." A nervous titter swept the court even as the vizier scowled and trembled in impotent fury. A seemingly amused caliph spoke. "Come, come now. There is no need for my two most faithful advisors to quarrel over such a petty, especially since I can settle this so easily. Pholian, I believe you have a daughter, do you not? If I remember it correctly... her name is Eliza?" "Ilysa, O noble Caliph. Her name is Ilysa." It was a scant five years since Jehane returned from a secret mission with the scrawny peasant girl in tow. When pressed, Jehane hinted of a vision from the Silver Lady telling her to adopt the child. Since then, they have raised her up in the courts of Corneria, and Ilysa has grown up to become a beautiful young maiden. "As you may have been aware of," the caliph continued. "None of my wives have ever borne me an heir to my throne. I wish to take your daughter as my wife." The entire court fell silent. Pholian was especially speechless by the the declaration. The caliph smiled. "Yes. My advisors at court have been pressing me to take another wife who can produce an heir," he chuckled, "since I am not getting any younger." "B-but, O Caliph, she is yet a child of barely twelve summers. I beg you to reconsider," Pholian stuttered. The caliph waved his feeble protests off. "Details, details. Come sit and rest here beside me, Pholian My General, the true and rightful heir to the throne of Sankria. We will discuss the wedding at another time. For now, let us celebrate... Vizier, the wine." Pholian knelt and bowed again to the caliph. "I thank you O noble Caliph for sheltering me for all these years, and for being the godfather to my wedding to Jehane. Thank you for this great honor." The vizier gave Pholian a knowing look. "Ah, Jehane Lin Raan, the Blood Moon. Our noble Caliph has lent her services to our holy veiled priestesses of the Moon. Would you like to ask them what legendary mission they have sent her on?" One of the visiting priestesses of the Silver Lady, bearing a sickle staff, stepped forward. "In the name of the Silver Lady, we have sent Jehane Lin Raan the Blood Moon, Grandmaster of the Holy Knights of the Moon on a glorious quest, which we feel only she can accomplish. The retrieval of the blessed moon kris blade hidden away underneath the southern ocean, supposedly in the lair of the divine moon dragon, Anfalgafas." Almost as an afterthought she continued. "Her orders were to succeed or die trying." Barely had the words left her lips when the herald announced, "Jehane Lin Raan, The Blood Moon, Grandmaster of the Holy Knights of the Moon." Everyone in the audience chamber was too stunned to say anything. A number of courtiers were caught slack jawed and gaping. "H-how...?" The Caliph gasped. "It's not possible..." Pholian drained his cup of wine. "My love..." His hands began shaking uncontrollably. Jehane appeared before the court, dressed in the traditional attire of the Holy Knight of the Moon, and bowed to the Caliph. "Woman," the Caliph began, "I believe the command to you was to succeed or perish. You disgrace your ancestors by returning." Not bothering to wait for the signal to rise, Jehane stood up. "I have succeeded." In her hands was a pearly white silver kris blade. "Jehane..." Pholian sighed in relief as he began to stand up from his place beside the Caliph... then gasped in surprise when he staggered forward and coughed out blood. "Pholian!" Jehane immediately rushed to his side, catching him in her arms as he fell. Pholian smiled weakly as he gazed up at his beloved's eyes. "I... Poison..." The rest of his words were muffled as she covered his lips with hers, tasting the blood on his mouth. His body spasmed one more time, then lay still. "Rest now, my love..." Jehane whispered, laying down the body of the man she has ever loved on the carpeted marble floor. "I will avenge you." Turning towards the audience, she addressed the shocked members of the court. "I was given a vision by the Silver Lady... Darkness have fallen on the land. The great evil has corrupted even the Royal Court of Corneria. With this sword, she has given me the task of ridding the dark shadow that shrouded the land once and for all." In so saying, she swung the silver blade in an long arc. So sudden was the attack that she caught the vizier's neck, decapitating him in one stroke. "The Holy Knights of the Moon will cleanse this land of evil. Even if it means the destruction of the Empire," she finished. "Stop her!" The Caliph ordered his terrified guards. No one moved to stop her as she stalked towards the Caliph. She then paused, then turned around and hurled the kris towards the cloaked man who was about to leave the hall. There was a scream as the silver blade hit home, and Saladyn was nailed on the doors, the hilt sticking out of his back. The force of the throw slammed the massive doors shut. Everyone watched as the poet disintegrated into ashes. "No one will leave this hall until my task is done," Jehane grimly declared. She then slowly approached the cowering Caliph, picking up the bottle of poisoned wine along the way. "Spare me..." The Caliph pleaded. The Blood Moon's face remained impassive. "You will suffer the fate you sentenced my husband." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Yumina turned away from the vision. So many deaths... She remembered the lesson of Joy. "Is this really worth it?" ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ -Signus Megido 10/15/2K