Welcome to Gaia! ::

and Kamile had her epiphany, and now Srai is having tea. Lovely, lovely. She prefers honey you know. Not that anyone cares, except to wish that she'd choke on it and burn.

No promises, but... xd I can make it happen.

Um, You-Know-Who the female, already introduced? Or You-Know-Who the immortal male?

Comes to the same thing--EVIL!!!!! Mwahahah.

Better yet, Voxxxie-chan?


Stupid Srai. I adore the chapter where she painfully--

Ah, well...you'll see. ^^

That took a while. I've finished though. I have to say kirbs, out of all the chapters I've read in this book, it seemed like you pured yourself into this one the most. Atleast, thats how it felt.

You were wonderfully descriptive as always. This was by far my favorite chapter.


Notably, I apprectiated the fact that you emphisized Ametris as sheltered, and used it as as explination for why the elves of the village seemed so simple. Atleast I thought you did that anyways...

I also found the fact that the head elder seemed to clutch stubernly to mob will and ancient logic especially enjoyable. It sort of added to the sense that simplisity was melting away from the society.

Keep up the good work.

Sorry, Reese. xd

Chapter Nineteen is giving me some trouble, and on top of that, my computer's going into the shop. I'll try my best to finish it in my notebook, but no guarantees on when it will be up.

of course, I could just be blaming my writer's block / laziness on my computer.....meh. ^^

SO CRUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 crying

Okay, this time I'm really done.

Cara-chi read it and found some mistakes, which I shall correct, if Mom ever lets me out of my bed. X.x

It's 44 pages long, several thousand words, etc, etc....

FINALLY. I'm sick of this crap. ON TO CHAPTER TWENTY (Honesty) THE LIKES OF WHICH HAVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE AND WILL NEVAH BE SEEN AGAIN!!!!

In Ametris. If I'm right, they do this kind of thing often in harry Potter, at the very least.

It took a long time for him to remember why he was there at all-he jumped, startled by his own memory, and glanced at the sun. An hour to noon.

"Eäyo!" he yelped, skidding to a halt as he thought frantically. Where was he? He was north of
Kocha, wasn't he? Or had he drifted west…oh, gods, he remembered hearing the sound of water, long after the storm had ended-the river…he was miles away from the schoolhouse now, he'd never make it in time to find Kamilé at school unless he made a beeline for the schoolhouse from here and didn't stop running…but then he would be lost for sure, and he was exhausted….

He did the only thing he could do-he ran west, away from the sun and towards the river, followed it south until he reached the path, and bolted east, ignoring his fatigue, the sprinkles of an oncoming storm, the fact that the streets were empty.

But it didn't matter how much he hurried, because he was too late.

He cut through the forest and approached the schoolhouse at a different angle, emerging in the courtyard-and what he saw turned his blood to ice. Rivulets of blood washing away, into the woods…stones littering the ground…no one in sight, the schoolhouse empty and cold, as if abandoned, or in mourning.

No.

They couldn't have done it, not without him there-he had told them that he wanted to watch her die, personally, and though it was no longer true in the slightest, he had not told them otherwise. They couldn't have killed her…the one day he was not there….

And then it sank in.

They had killed her.

No, no, no…how could they? Why would they possibly…?

He realized, then, exactly why they would have done it-his breaths became short and sharp, labored, and he sank to the ground and buried his head in his knees.

He was the one that had told them to do it. He was responsible, the driving force, the brains behind the scheme-entirely to blame for her death. He'd ruined everything-and worse, he'd face the same punishment she had-the fate of a murderer. No one had killed her as justice for breaking the law, specifically-but something terrible had, or would have, happened to her for what she had done.

Oh no. What would he tell his mother? And Luci…poor Luci…she was never getting her friend over, and he had promised…how was he supposed to tell her that Kamilé was dead? That…that he had killed her?

No, he couldn't-he'd rather they killed him. He couldn't ever go back home, not after what he had done…this would destroy Luci, she'd die, too, all because of him….

He hid his face and sobbed, the guilt and self-loathing flooding in him, spilling over-unknowingly the only person left to cry over Kamilé in the cold, empty city.



A firm, polite knock on the door roused Elder Carn from his armchair, where he was stirring a cup of tea. Upon the door's opening Elder Srai stumbled in, her posture indicating complete exhaustion.

"Evening," she sighed, sinking into one of his armchairs and rubbing her eyes.

"Good evening, Elder Srai," he said stiffly, arching his eyebrows at her as he took his place by the fire. She waved her hand limply, leaning back against the headrest and closing her eyes.

"Don't bother with all of that, please…. I'm sorry, I know I’m late, but can you please make me some tea? I haven't slept in ages…."

"What sort of tea?" he asked without moving an inch.

"Just…tea, I don't know," she said wearily.

"I'm not so sure I owe you any favors, Srai."

She opened her eyes, blinked, and stared at him, her expression both beseeching and sad. "No," she said slowly, "I guess not…but I came to apologize, Carn. Honestly."

"Yes, well," Carn replied skeptically, "I think I'm out of forgiveness tea. Perhaps some other time."

She sighed and leaned back again, half-curling in the armchair in a fashion that reminded him of Kamilé's impossibly tiny ball. "Okay, I don't deserve tea," she confessed in a small voice. "I never expected it to go this far, Carn…I never wanted to banish her…."

He said nothing. She sighed yet again, as if it had been a very tiresome life.

"Oh, come on…please? We're related…somehow…I swear I'll apologize all you want…."

"I don't need an apology," he said sternly, but he rose nonetheless and picked up the kettle. "Kamilé might."

"Kamilé might," she repeated sadly.

"Honey?"

"As much as you see fit, please."

He handed her the steaming cup, and she stirred it absently until it was strong enough before she swallowed half in one gulp. Her peaceful exhale raised a small cloud of steam.

"Thanks…this is so much better…." She took another sip, her tensed muscles relaxing. "How are we related, anyway?"

"You're my sister's son's wife's cousin," he reeled off, pointing to a threadbare family tree on the wall.

"Oh yes," she said, blinking. "So…cousins?"

"Cousins works as well as anything."

Silence fell again. Carn raised an eyebrow. Srai sighed in defeat.

"Carn, I…I never meant for anyone to get hurt," she said quietly.

"One would assume so," he replied dryly, "considering how well things worked out."

"Really!" she insisted, her eyes begging him to believe her, her demeanor less like that of a Head Elder and more like that of a pleading child. She obviously remembered as well as he who had been Head Elder foremost, and longest. "I mean, she did it, obviously-"

"I thought you came to apologize."

"Well, I did-I am-oh, Carn, I know it was an accident, she couldn't have done it on purpose, but I was furious at her all the same…and everyone else…was…too…."

She trailed off, closing her eyes and shaking her head as she took another sip of tea.

"There's something…wrong…with them," she whispered. "The elves. I've never seen…I thought…." She swallowed, her voice forced as she pushed out the words. "I've never seen-they aren't supposed to be like this! Elves are…are supposed to…."

"Treat everyone decently, yes," Carn murmured, staring into the fire. "But they never have…."

"I…to make them…outcasts…is one thing…but…but to kill…a…a kid…even Marli's students…I…I can't even imagine why…."

"You're hyperventilating, Srai," Carn said sharply. She closed her eyes, took a deep, slow breath, and choked down more tea until it was gone. Mutely, she held the cup out, and he poured hot water and honey in obligingly. She didn't wait for it to cool.

"I don't know what to do," she confessed, opening her tortured eyes and fixing them desperately on his face. "I never thought I would be scared of my own elves…but…but the city's destroyed, and even the kids are…are…."

"Murderers," Carn said flatly.

Srai shuddered violently, seeming on the brink of a nervous breakdown. "I'm sorry, Carn…I've done all I could, but she couldn't stay in Kocha, they'd kill her, they'd really kill her-"

Her voice strangled her, and she fell silent, shaking uncontrollably.

"What do you want me to do?" he demanded tonelessly, glaring into space.

"Please, Carn!" she begged, leaning desperately forward. "You were Head Elder, for the love of the deities, tell me what to do! Believe me, I never meant to hurt anyone, not even a little girl-especially not-how do I fix this?!"

"There is no way to fix it," he snapped, turning his cold stare to her. "You've damaged this beyond repair-you've killed Kamilé, no matter what you do now."

"There has to be a way," Srai moaned, resting her head in her hands. "I can't handle this, nothing like this has ever happened before, why should it be happening now?"

"You're a fool, Srai," Carn said angrily, "if you think this is all disconnected."

She looked up, confused, desperation adding a crazed light to her gaze.

"Whether or not you believe Kamilé is innocent is beside the point. She's a child, an orphan, she cannot be blamed for this kind of thing-no one should be without just cause. You have always told your Elders to hide their emotions and opinions, Srai-but you acted too quickly in blaming her. No matter what she had done, you should have claimed her innocence and protected her until you knew the truth.

"And I know you have been trying to fix that," he went on, as she opened her mouth to interrupt, "But you're a healer, you should know that even if you tried to get her to tell you what happened, she would probably not remember anyway. And you knew Marli would never turn her in, so why you even bothered is-"

"I know," Srai said quickly. "I knew she would never, but if she thought Kamilé was in danger then she would protect Kamilé for me, and nothing would happen to her…but I never thought the kids…."

Carn arched an eyebrow. "That's wise of you, Srai, but why not just take her in yourself?"

"For the deities' sakes, Carn!" she exploded. "I'm the Head Elder! I can't be harboring fugitives!"

"Then tell the elves she is not."

"They wouldn't believe me!" Srai was begging again. "And I've never seen them so angry…so violent…I didn't-"

"Afraid of your own people, Srai?" Carn laughed humorlessly. "You should be."

Her eyes, wide in panic, reproached him fearfully. "I don't know what they'll do-they saw her with their own eyes, if I tell them they're wrong, they might kill me too…."

"So you're afraid, and that's why we're all in this mess?"

She nodded miserably, contemplating her tea. "I thought…" she murmured, "I thought she was dead, at first…and I felt sick…what if it was all my fault that she died? S-so…."

"So you were entirely too cruel to her."

"N-no…or I never meant to be…." She swallowed and looked up, her expression morose, resigned. "I couldn't be nice to her, or tell her what I thought, because then she would tell everyone what I had said in her defense-I needed the elves on my side, for the city, Carn! Surely you understand…."

"Understand, yes, but not condone."

"Please, if you just tried to see it my way!" she pleaded. "I banished her because I thought that was her only chance! I knew she'd keep coming back, doing it over again-and eventually they would kill her. But if I kept her out, and them in, then they couldn't hurt her anymore…and if I sent Marli after her, then she'd get her and take care of her, maybe…."

"Reverse psychology?" Carn guessed, raising a thinning eyebrow. "You're eerily clever, Srai. But it won't work."

"Why not?" she said at once, panicked again.

"Because Kamilé is faster than Marli, and can hide herself more easily, and because Marli will consider it surrender to leave now."

"That's completely illogical! And the girl could barely walk, she couldn't have gotten far-"

"It's a losing battle, Srai." He sighed. "No one will find Kamilé until she wants to be found. She'll bleed or starve to death out there…."

Srai paled. For a long moment, she was unable to speak.

Finally, her voice left her in a whisper. "Carn…if those people died in the fire…under my leadership…is it my fault?"

"No." Carn shook his head. "All we are asked in life is to do the best with what we are given. You made some mistakes, Srai, but for a mere Ametrisan, you did better than expected."

"A mere Ametrisan?" she repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"There are other countries without the gift of peace, for which fires and violence and murders happen every day." He paused, worried, as she paled again, but then went on. "They have experience in matters such as these, but we are unused to such things, and we do not. Ametris's gift of peace seems to have broken, and we cannot comprehend the evil that assails us; we stumble and fall trying. But it is the best most of us can do.

"Srai, you have Marli, and you have Kayle, and myself. We know the truth, and only that can help us now."

"The truth?" she repeated, her voice hushed, confused.

Carn gave her a long, appraising look-and rejected her as unfit for the knowledge. "Make the right choice, Srai, with what you are given," he offered, "and you will know everything."

"Carn, I need to know anything you can tell me!" she pleaded. "What if it will help?"

"The right choice is not based on knowledge, but on conscience, on matters of what is truly right. The judgment should not be made on who Kamilé is, what she is like-it should be made on whether she is truly innocent, or otherwise. And, regardless-if she deserves punishment. It was her curse to be born different, but now it makes her evil…and only you can rectify that, Srai."

She stared at him, her head falling to one side. "I don't understand. What do I do?"

"Find a way to make the elves content, with Kamilé among them. And if she cannot belong among them, at least bring her safety and health, and fight back against the death the elves seem to have planned for her. Stop the violence and hatred before it spreads and drowns all of Ametris."

"That's impossible," Srai breathed, shaking her head.

"The answer is far from impossible," Carn chided her gently, a smile playing on his lips. "It is, in fact, so easy that a mere child could fix it all with a few simple words."

"What words?" she demanded. "Which ones?"

Carn smiled mysteriously, keeping the answer to himself. "More tea, Srai?"



Vix sat in the shadows until the sun fell below the horizon, unable to bring himself to stand and go home. The questions circled round his head, twisting, entwining, tearing at him throughout.

What was he going to do now? How could he go home and face Luci-and face his mother, knowing that he had let Luci down? Luci would be even more upset than she had after the fire…a double blow to her…she would sink into that depression again and never recover….and she would die without getting her wish, her only hope…all because of him…how could he? Why had he tried to kill her? What would that have accomplished, how could he have been so cold-hearted…what had he done?

He had no idea what to do-go home and tell Luci of his betrayal, or stay here and deliver yet another loss? Run away from the guilt and the black deed, or accept his punishment, no matter what it was? He deserved it, all of it-but his mother would know he was a murderer, and he would never be able to explain how badly he wished it had never happened….

But then, as it had hundreds of times before, the weight of what had really been done hit him-a girl had died a horrible death because of him, the only person who could save his sister, someone completely harmless and innocent, a little kid….and he couldn't breathe as the knowledge crushed his heart. Loss after loss-Rhoen and Dad, now Kamilé, soon to be Luci-all caused by the one before; is this what revenge set in motion? A cycle of death, where innocent people got in the way and suffered just as much?

After a long time, the hours lost in unseeing misery, a noise broke the silence; footsteps. Vix froze.

"Vix?" Marli's voice said, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

He imagined the words as sharper than they really were. He found that he could not speak.

"Everyone's been looking for you," Marli informed him, sounding angry and frustrated; he winced. "So this is where you've been all along?"

He nodded; /Go on/, he thought, /give me everything I deserve./

"So irresponsible, childish even-do you have any idea how your mother must be feeling right now?"

He did; poor Mom…so she knew. She would be waiting half-heartedly for her son to come home, refusing to believe that he never would, that he was a murderer….

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Marli demanded.

Without meaning to at all, and hating himself for it immediately, he started crying; he couldn't help it. "I'm sorry!" he moaned. "I swear I didn't mean to, I wouldn't've, really, I didn't want to kill her, I'd bring her back if I could, it ruined everything-"

"Killed who?" Marli snapped; making him confess properly. He didn't care.

"H-…her! Kamilé!" He pointed to the piles of stones, still red-stained even through the rain. "It was my idea, but I swear, I never would've, I would've stopped it if I could-"

"Vix," Marli interrupted, "Kamilé isn't dead."

He choked on his next words, head spinning. His eyes fell automatically on the stones again.

"Well, they did try to stone her," Marli conceded in answer to the unasked question. "But she lived…somehow…."

"She's alive?" he forced out, dizzy and confused. Alive?

Marli made an angry noise. "Barely," she growled, glaring at him. "Your idea, Vix?"

He nodded meekly, averting his eyes. "B-but I wouldn't've…" he murmured.

Marli snorted. "Yeah, that's really helpful, Vix," she snapped. "Tell that to her, why don't you?"

"You're right," Vix muttered, still dazed as he rose to his feet. "Gotta tell her, hope she'll understand…."

He paused, looking around, finally turning back to Marli. "Where is she? With the healers?"

Marli made the angry sound again, still staring suspiciously at him. "I wish!" she exploded. "In a semi-decent world, yes, of course she would be, but of course not here-she's banished. Gone. I can't find her anywhere."

"Banished?" he repeated, his heart sinking horribly. "Why? What did she…?"

He stared at the stones again, and suddenly they had a new significance in his mind. Marli, again, followed his gaze.

"That's all her blood," she said quietly, her anger disappearing. "As far as I know. She had a knife, but no one was hurt except her…Srai banished her anyway, like it was her fault."

"Oh," Vix mumbled, confused again. His heart sunk lower; Kamilé was being blamed instead of him. No, that was even worse…what now? he asked himself.

"She left?" he inquired.

"Yeah, can't find her anywhere-don't go looking for her, Vix. Srai's keeping her out and everyone else in, so she can't chop them up or whatever. You'll be in trouble if you leave the city."

"I have to find her," he insisted.

She arched an eyebrow. "Why do you care? She killed your family, remember?"

He shook his head. "I don't care," he said firmly. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Marli's skepticism faded, replaced by surprised, sincere curiosity alone. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

He sighed, staring absently into the trees as he searched for words. "Luci adores her," he said finally. "And since Rhoen…isn't here anymore…she needs someone to be friends with her, make her happy. She wants Kamilé…and if it helps her…I don't care. Rhoen…and Dad…wouldn't have wanted…Luci…to be unhappy."

"I see," Marli said slowly, sounding bewildered. "You're forgiving her just like that?"

"Luci'll die if she has to be alone again," Vix murmured, bewildered himself. "Can't lose her too…'s too much…so Kamilé…can…."

"What makes you think she will?"

He shook his head dazedly. "She liked Luci too, I think," he said, almost to himself. "And I'll make it up to her…anything she wants…."

"Kamilé needs someone too," Marli said softly, "just as much as Luci…. But your sister has the red plague, Vix."

"She won't die!" he yelled suddenly, feeling fierce and determined-not if he could help it! "Rhoen made her better, he kept her alive, Kamilé can do that too!"

"But what if she catches it?"

This threw him off slightly; what a horrible thought, what if she did?

"I dunno," he said finally. "I just have to try. Maybe she doesn't care."

"Maybe," Marli said solemnly. "But no. This is ridiculous. Go home, Vix."

"Make me," he shot back belligerently, glaring at her.

"You can't go looking for her, Elder Srai will get you for something like she got me; if she's found, you'll know, don't worry. But you need to go home, your mother's hysterical and she can't leave your sister alone-"

"Luci!" Vix swore, having forgotten about his promise. "Eäyo…I mean, oh no…I told her I'd be back ages ago…."

"Shoo," Marli ordered. "There isn't anything you can do now, Vix-it's a little too late, really."

He scowled, angry at Elder Srai for banishing Kamilé, at Marli for holding him back-at himself for causing this whole mess. But she was right…he had to go home now.

"Fine, then," he sighed. "Home."

But he didn't move; something had struck him.

"Vix?" Marli inquired.

"You said Elder Srai got you for something," he reminded her. "What?"

Marli made an exasperated noise and shook her head, sounding disgusted as she informed him, "For sticking up for Kamilé, I suppose…. Srai says I should be treated as a traveler, which means no house and no job, so I'm practically banished too-but I can look for Kamilé if I want to, and I will. Don't worry about it," she added quickly, as Vix's mouth fell open in horror. She grinned. "I'm still teaching, right here, every morning."

She folded her legs on the damp ground, as if to prove her point, and folded her arms in satisfaction. "Spread the word," she told him. He nodded, turning to go-most of the conversation had flown over his head.

"Oh, and Vix-"

As he turned, something white flew at his face; Marli's fist smacked him hard in the eye, and he saw stars as he reeled back and clutched it, swearing profusely; and then her arms grabbed him and hugged him tightly. She was shorter than him by a few inches; it felt like a best friend comforting another.

She let go quickly, respecting his natural boyish aversion to affection. "Good luck with your sister," she told him, smirking at his expression. "And take this."

She pressed one of the bloody stones into his hand; he recoiled, but she shoved his closed fist stubbornly against his chest.

"You owe that little girl this much," she told him sternly. "There are some mistakes that are painful, that you want to forget, but can't-you have to remember, so it won't happen again."

"I won't ever, believe me," he muttered, trying to force it back to her, revolted.

"I don't mean you," she said seriously, shoving it at him again. "Keep this. Every time someone repeats your mistakes-prejudice, injustice, cruelty, mercilessness-you will remember, and be able to stop it. You can't forget what happened here, any of it."

"Professor," he insisted. "I don't want it, I don't want anything to do with it!"

"Keep the godsdamned stone," Marli growled ferociously, suddenly dangerous. "And never forget what you did to her-or that you're lucky no one's doing the same to you, idiot!"

She swung at him again, but he dodged it; when he rose warily once more, she grabbed him and shoved her nose in his face.

"Why do you think she was almost killed?" she snarled at him. "Why do you think she's banished now? Huh, Vix?"

"'C-c-cause of the fire," he stammered, truly alarmed.

"Ha!" she spat, glaring at him. "Do you really think this is about the fire anymore? Prejudice, that's what it is, and the fatal weakness of mortals-pride, hatred-freaking selfishness!" she hissed. "All because they forgot. But you won't forget, will you, Vix?" she added, with sudden, frightening sweetness.

"N-n-n-n-no…"

"Good boy." She turned him around and dropped the stone into his pocket before pushing him towards the path. He automatically started to walk, faster and faster until he was running, with her voice calling after him cheerfully.

"Now get lost, you moron! I never want to see you again until an hour after sunrise tomorrow morning!"

He ran on, wholly frightened by her sudden mood change, but then slowed gradually to a walk, digesting it all. He fingered the stone in his pocket, feeling terrible guilt and anger, but also, for the first time in a very long time, a faint, sparkling glimmer of hope.



He didn't bother to climb into Luci's window, though it was wide open in desperate hope; he unlocked the front door with his key and let himself in. The house was dark; his mother was asleep.

He checked for her on the couch, but she wasn't there; searching the house, he finally found her in his own bed, curled up fully clothed on the blankets, tearstains crossing her cheeks in salty ribbons. He made a face at himself; how stupid, to leave like that without a warning or a note, with his mother as worried as she already was. He grabbed his mother's blanket off her bed and covered her with it, snatching up a spare and collapsing onto the couch with it covering his head.

A low, soft noise echoed in the silence-a muted, off-key note from a flute.

He sighed and forced himself up; Luci must have fallen asleep with the flute in her mouth, but it would wake up Mom, aside from being extremely annoying. He slid into Luci's room and to the side of her bed, preparing to slip the flute away as silently as he could.

But she was not asleep; she was wide awake, staring at him, the moonlight reflecting in her huge eyes. She had both hands around the little flute; she blew on it again, watching him.

"Hey, 'Chi," Vix objected, "stop that, you'll wake up Mom."

She blew on it once more, a little louder this time.

"'Chi, cut it out!" He quickly crossed over to the door and shut it, but Luci blew into the flute as hard as she could-not very hard at all-and he was forced to snatch it from her and hold it away.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face in the pillow and shook with heavy sobs.

"That's just obnoxious, 'Chi," Vix complained, not in the mood to be comforting. "What's the matter with you?"

She was sobbing hard, and her voice was muffled, so it was difficult to understand; all he heard was: "Mmph-kama-idit-wrong!"

"Huh?"

She lifted her head, her nose red, her eyes swimming with tears. "'M sorry, Kamilé won't come 'cause I did it wrong! I thought I did it right!" she wailed, and hid her face again.

"'Chiiii," Vix moaned, sinking down to the floor beside her bed. "It isn't your fault, you did everything right…it's mine…."

She stared mournfully at him. "You promised," she reminded him.
"I know, 'Chi," he sighed. "I'm really sorry…."

"I don't get it!" Luci wailed. "You said, saito! You said she'd come a long long time ago…."

"Look, I did my best, okay?" Vix snapped, and then immediately regretted being so sharp. "She wanted to," he lied, putting his new scheme into play. "She really did, she told me she couldn't wait-but then she had to leave for a little while."

That was the nicest way of putting it-the truth would have been a little too much for her. Luci pouted. "Why?"

Vix gave her a solemn look. "She was kidnapped," he explained seriously. "By the evil humans that started the fire."

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, falling for it without a second thought. "What happened?" she demanded.

So he told her willingly the story: how he had found Kamilé and invited her over, how she had enthusiastically agreed, but then the humans came out of nowhere (maybe racism wasn't the way to go, he wondered, but what else could he have said? Dragons? She'd see through that at once. Besides, she'd never seen a human-or hadn't with their elf skins pulled off, he inserted wickedly wink and trapped them in a ring of fire and took Kamilé away, and how he fought his way out but couldn't save her.

"…and they had the chosen too," he added for dramatic tension, and Luci gasped. "So someone has to go rescue them both, but no one knows about it but me, so as soon as it's light again I'm gonna go look for them."

"Don't go, saito!" Luci squeaked, clapping her hands over her mouth. "They'll get you too!"

Her fear was logical; she was seven, and the humans had black skin, sharp teeth, and really big swords. They also swore a lot, which Vix knew would turn her against them immediately. He laughed, grinning with as much bravado as he could fake.

"Get me? I'm offended, 'Chi," he told her imperiously. "Don't you want me to go find Kamilé? You wanted her over, right?"

"Uh-huh!" she insisted, but her hands did not leave her mouth. "But when are you coming back?"

"In a couple of days," he promised. "I'll make sure they don't go too far so I can come back, don't worry, 'Chi. Will you tell Mom that I'm okay?"

She nodded, staring at him like he was emitting sacred light.

"Did you eat something today?"

She nodded, making a face. "Yeah…but I didn't like it, it was all mushy."

"Well, that just makes it easier for you to chew it, Chi-ask Mom to make you some pie in the morning, I don't think she'd mind."

"Yummy," Luci murmured, licking her lips. He ruffled her hair.

"Bet you haven't had that in awhile-see, 'Chi? When you're good and you eat all the icky stuff, Mom won't ever mind making you something you like. And you drank all your juice and everything?"

"Almost all of it," she said proudly.

"Good girl. And hey, you still have to do the charm-I'm gonna need some help saving Kamilé, okay?"

"Okay!" she agreed. "I think I did everything right today, saito!"

"I know you did," he laughed, and gave her a hug. Like before, she was very still, confused, but this time she managed to hug him back before he could pull away.

"See you soon, 'Chi," he promised. "Love you."

"Love you too," she murmured as he tucked her in and handed her the little flute. She snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes, having exhausted herself with all the excitement and the hugging. She waved him cheerfully goodbye as he closed her window and slipped out, leaving her door wide open as usual. He grabbed a sack and stuffed some food into it, scrawling a note to his mother bearing some feeble excuse about staying over at a friend's house. He could care about the yelling later; there was no way to explain this to his mother anyway. Now that he thought about it, there was really no way to explain it to himself.

Not even bothering to grab a map and figure out a plan, he slipped out of the house, locked the door, picked a direction, and ran.



If Kamilé's subconscious knew that she was in the thoughts of six or seven different people at once at any given moment, her conscious had no clue. The images of the schoolchildren, Elder Srai, Marli, Kayle, and anyone else she had cared about before had slipped out of her memory for good. That world was no longer hers; she had been cast away from it permanently, ostracized from it in mind and in body.

The forest had once held something for her; a city, a river, a schoolhouse, all somewhere, all places that she could navigate to if she wanted. But now it was everything there was, everything there had ever been. She had forgotten that if she traveled west, she would eventually come to a river; if she did happen to stumble upon one, it was a strange coincidence, not anything planned. The world had lost the aspect of stability-everything had once been tied down, ready to play in or on or under, always there.

But she had been stabilized as well…and her anchor was lost. Nothing was permanent anymore; she was a tiny boat, drifting on the ocean without a map, at the mercy of storms, sea monsters, and whatever unknowns lay beneath the surface.

She could no longer handle storms; she made her own sunshine, bottled up whatever strength she had left to survive until the current dragged her under. Her old world was gone, and the new one that would have faced her was too large, too frightening; so she made her own.

In her mind, she was exhausted, stumbling along in the moonlight, one hand outstretched as Everan led her on, as exhilarated as ever to see the light turn silver instead of gold. He was so real that she could feel his hand, smooth and without a single cut or scar, familiar, warm. There would be a slight callus on the joint of the middle finger of his left hand, because he wrote and drew so much, and the tips of his fingers would be worn smooth with constant page-turning. The memory did not fail her; all of her strength went into perfecting his every detail, so it really was like he was before her, urging her on.

/C'mon, Kamilé,/ he would urge her, patient as ever, radiating contentment though he did not physically show it. /This way, just a little further…./

"'M tired," she objected without enthusiasm-she didn't mind this time if he dragged her halfway across Ametris.

/You had plenty of sleep,/ he reminded her. /Come on! It's right up here…./

She nodded and followed, Everan showing her where to step so she wouldn't trip.

/Don't you remember what day it is today?/ he asked her.

Like one in a dream, she answered without thinking. "Oh…'s our birthday, isn't it?"

It was?

/Not yet,/ he corrected her.

"Forgetted," she whispered. "But 's weird 'cause I still remembered your…."

Oops. That was supposed to be a secret….

/My what?/ He sounded amused. /My present?/

"No," she lied, conscious of her mistake. He smirked.

/C'mon, tell me, Kamilé,/ he prodded. /I got you something really cool, I'll tell you if you tell me…what is it?/

"Umm…I…." She thought her hardest, but drew a blank-she hadn't gotten him anything at all! But she'd had something really good planned for him…. "Eäyo!" she wailed. "I forgetted, Everan…can't remember…."

She felt like crying, and nearly did; Everan hurriedly rubbed her arm-she felt his touch, but it didn't hurt her at all-and pleaded, /Oh, Kamilé, don't cry…it's okay, you didn't have to get me anything…./

And like always, the frightening holes in her memories became insignificant, filled up-it was okay if she forgot things, because Everan remembered for her.

/I remember,/ he told her softly, leading her forward. /And I really like it, Kamilé. It was perfect. /

Relieved and overwhelmingly grateful, she forgot to pay attention; she stumbled, half-tripped-Everan tried to catch her, but missed-and broke through the trees, finding herself on the edge of the river. She clutched at the tree she had tripped over, peering curiously at the rushing black water, unafraid with Everan at her side.

"Too deep," she whispered, and he agreed.

/This way, then,/ he sighed, resigned. He took her hand again and led her along the edge of the river, glancing worriedly at the water every few minutes. Kamilé was still exhausted, but unwilling to show it; she followed as best as she could, limping slightly but determined not to let him see. Where would he take her? She felt that she should know the answer somehow….

/Look, Kamilé!/ He stopped and pointed at the river just before them. /See, I told you it'd go down eventually…./

The little "bridge" was slightly underwater, but she could see it fairly well in the dark; she led the way, tripping lightly across, forgetting how badly her leg hurt until she landed too hard on it; her knee caved, and she wobbled and fell, shrieking and clutching at the air; Everan reached for her but missed and fell in, too.

/Eäyo!/ he gasped, and she saw him writhing in the water, panic building in his mind. /HelphelphelpIcan'tswim-/

She had forgotten that Everan didn't know how to swim.

And, for some reason, she didn't either.

She flailed as uselessly as him, water flooding into her nose and mouth and choking her, forcing air from her mouth in a stream of bubbles-something brushed against her cheek, and she grabbed thoughtlessly at it, pulling-and her head broke through the surface.

Coughing and gasping, she found herself clinging to a branch of a weeping willow, growing out of nowhere in the middle of the river…how strange…she looked around for Everan and did not see him, but then his arms broke free of the water with a splash and grabbed at the green tendrils on either side of her. Everan clung tightly to the tree and coughed as well, so real, so there, that she could not have thought of the possibility of a delusion…his weight was comforting against her back as he secured them both there, and his boots occasionally brushed against hers as he kicked to keep them afloat.

When he could breathe again, he pulled himself up, onto a ledge behind the trails of bright green, and helped her up alongside himself; she shivered as she broke free of the freezing water, looking around. It was a little grotto of sorts, an oasis of land in a desert of water, providing darkness and shade; it was eerie at night, but she knew somehow that it would be welcome in the burning daylight….

She did not notice that the trees on the bank were burned and skeletal, the undergrowth pure ash, or that, in contrast, the tree she sat under was perfectly healthy; had she known this, she would have realized that she was, officially, inside Kocha's city limits. But it never crossed her mind now; she had so many more important things to worry about.

She sighed and settled herself on a patch of moss, watching Everan as he sat and watched the moonlit river. "Everan, can we stay here forever?" she murmured.

He turned to her and smiled; it was heartbreakingly wonderful, pure happiness, the one thing she loved the most. Her pain melted away. /Sure, Kamilé/, he agreed. /Whatever you want./

She sighed happily and closed her eyes, half-drifting off; Everan talked to her throughout her dreams, though she could not remember what he said, and if she responded or not. He didn't seem to mind.

Finally, when a slight glow appeared on the eastern horizon, he nudged her gently awake.

/It's almost dawn, Kamilé,/ he told her. /You ready?/

"Yep," she yawned, trying to remember what he meant. She crawled over to him as he sat by the edge of the river, facing east. He drew a dagger from his belt and touched the tip to her palm until red blood stained it, though she hardly felt a thing, and then, making a face, quickly did the same to himself. And then, just as the sun sent out its first rays, he took her hand and interlocked it with his own, so the blood flowed between their hands.

He closed his eyes, and she did the same. Without saying a single word, she wished with all their hearts that they could be together forever.

Everan opened his eyes and slid his hand out of hers.

"Happy birthday," she whispered, feeling a smile curve her lips as she opened her eyes.

The smile faded; he was regarding her cautiously, nervously almost, a sort of sadness tainting the happiness that should have been there, that existed in her; but now, nowhere else.

/Hey, Kamilé,/ he said quietly, backing away. /Sorry…but I gotta take my present back after all…./

And then a dark purple light blinded her; she screamed, clutching for Everan, but he was no longer there.

She looked around frantically, feeling a sob tear at her throat…he wasn't there. He had disappeared.

She glanced at herself-still as bruised and bloody as ever, if dirtier from the ashen river water-and at both palms; neither of them, under the blood, had a single blemish, save for a tiny scar in the center of her right hand, weeks old, almost nonexistent.

It wasn't there. It had never happened. Everan had never been there…he'd just been in her imagination…the best dream she had ever had….

There was no promise, no wish. It was all a dream, a delusion…a lie.

She was sobbing now, but there was no point to it-she'd already had enough. Somewhere between ragged breath and ragged breath she lay down, curled up, and lost her grip on consciousness, unable to bear the pain of heartbreak any longer.



Marli sat patiently, staring off into another direction as the first children crept tentatively into the clearing. They were small, eight or nine at the most, clustered together as if fearful of attack.

"'Morning," she said stiffly. They flinched and drew back into the shadows. "I'm teaching out here from now on," she continued, "because certain acts of idiocy gave the schoolhouse back to Elder Srai. Let's hope it doesn't rain."

The only girl in the small group whimpered and hid behind her brother. "We're sorry," she murmured, "didn't mean to…."

"I'm sure," Marli agreed, sarcasm obvious in her voice. The boys stared guiltily at their boots. "That sort of thing could be a complete accident…especially several times, oh yeah-"

The little girl started to cry. "She was gonna kill us!" she wailed. "She had a really big knife!"

"Justified, considering you were going to kill her," Marli snapped acidly.

It was a credit to her teaching skills that the girl even knew what "justified" meant. She sniffled pathetically, her voice a whining plea. "Vix said she killed everyone!" she objected. "He said we had to kill her back, or all the people she killed would be mad at us, and he said it would make everybody proud…but he didn't…say…."

She cut off, crying harder; Marli softened, having already understood what had coerced the kids into the dark deed. "All the blood?" she offered. The girl nodded. "Yeah, that's normal when someone's being murdered…."

The girl moaned, and the boys bowed their heads, shuddering as if fighting back tears themselves; and then another group of kids ducked back onto the path, watching Marli warily as she glanced at them.

"I'm not mad," she told them all. "I know."

The little girl stumbled forward; Marli caught her in her arms and hugged her tightly as she curled up in her lap. She stroked the girl's hair comfortingly and turned to the others.

"It's scary, isn't it?" she asked them. "The blood and the screaming…you're afraid to stop, but you're afraid to keep on as well…and when the tables are turned, and you realize what you were doing…it's like a nightmare, isn't it?"

The four boys nodded, soon joined by the other group, all looking bewildered and ashamed. And afraid-she had been right. They were not murderers, or had ever planned to be-they had just been lost, confused, and torn, looking for something to piece their lives back together, and Vix, knowing who was, supposedly, to blame, gave them a solution that not only quelled their frustration, their need for answers, but also gave them a way to solder their lives together-crookedly, with missing pieces, but as close as they thought they could get.

She'd seen it so many times before…the powerful hatred and grief was harder to control when no one had felt it for millennia. The adults were filled with it too, but they were so Ametrisanized that they quailed at the thought of violence and blood…children, with still-forming consciences, could do eagerly what they never could. But it left much deeper scars on them…that much was obvious.

She couldn't hate them anymore-after knowing hatred for so long, she wanted nothing to do with it…and what good would it do any of them now? What good had it done them so far?

"We don't want anything like this to happen again," she said softly. They nodded in silent agreement. "Then it's settled," Marli affirmed. "It won't happen if we don't let it happen. Do you understand? We did not know right and wrong before, because nothing like this has ever happened to us to teach us, but now we know, and we won't ever let anyone around us choose wrongly again. Right?"

/Oh gods,/ she thought to herself, as they nodded fervently in unison. /WE. I'm one of them now./

"If you find it in your hearts to forgive Kamilé, for whatever she's done," Marli whispered, "I know she'll forgive you, too. That's all it takes…and then we can start over, for real this time. There's no need to blame anyone anymore."

They nodded again, drying their eyes so she could see the conviction. The Ametrisans wanted to do away with violence and hate, just like she did…she really was one of them now. How depressing.

"Come sit," Marli told them, and slowly, shyly, they came to sit in a little circle around her. She noticed their depleted numbers. "Some of them couldn't come, huh?"

They shook their heads; they were all young, between the ages of seven and twelve. Marli sighed.

"The older ones can't forgive her yet, can they?" she inquired. A few nodded, ashamed. "And neither can some of their parents, so they wouldn't let the rest come."

The kids nodded again.

"That's okay. They'll come around sometime. Especially when they hear about all the awesome lessons I have for you guys." She winked at them; they smiled hesitantly, the stains of tears still on their cheeks. Marli gestured around the clearing.

"This is gonna be our classroom from now on, since Elder Srai took the other one away from us. I don't care if we don't have any supplies, or places to sit, or if it's raining or snowing or whatever-we're having class every other day, same time as usual, unless there's lightning or thunder or a flood or something. Okay?" They agreed. "You don't have to bring anything but yourselves, and a snack if you want it. We're still a class-my class, right?" Giggles and nods-of course. She beamed. "We'll still have tests, but they'll be oral now, and if I have to draw something I'll just do it somewhere else, I guess. And we're going to have field trips, lots of them, almost every day, all over the place!"

A cheer went up, and helpless grins and laughter-she knew that would please them. "First one's today," she told them enthusiastically. "We're taking a trip to the Great Tree! C'mon."

She urged them up and forward, leading them fearlessly down the path-Elder Srai would love this. She looked like the Ïla dancer with victims in tow, and surely no one had forgotten /that/ story too quickly…if not, she would remind them, she thought maliciously. Wait until they knew just how she was corrupting their children now.