"A person may have many purposes in life; a sword has only one."
	-Old Sindar saying



	                 Rocketarian Pictures presents
        	        in association with Improfanfic

                	    Suikoden: Distant Shores
	               started by Illyria and Todd Harper

        	         Part 18: Seeking the Prodigal
 	  	         	by Todd Harper


	White Cloud Castle was named for the large blocks of white marble 
which were used to build it. At least, that's the public story. In truth, 
the mountain altitude and crossbreezes from the smaller middle of the 
"S"-shaped continent meant that, at the higher towers, one could get an 
incredible view of low-lying cloud cover if the weather conditions were 
right.

	The sun was only barely becoming a pale yellow disk on the horizon 
when Tavia, wrapped in a blanket and carrying a cup of hot tea, walked out 
onto the balcony of one of the highest towers in White Cloud. Making it up 
the stairs had been quite a feat in her recovering but still weak state; 
Koris had said she should take some exercise though, to keep muscles from 
atrophy and cramping, and thus she'd taken to walking the observation tower 
steps every morning.

	The view seemed to calm her; when she was in the main keep below, it 
was filled with soldiers, arms, maps, warriors... all tools of war, which 
she knew from experience would tear the land asunder behind it. But from up 
here, the entire land, both Heresha and Lierstam, appeared to be an 
expansive green and blue jewel, peaceful and perfect.

	"I know what you're thinking," came a voice from behind her, and the 
army leader turned to find, of all people, Leknaat's pupil Luc standing 
behind her, leaning on his everpresent staff. He didn't look as winded as 
she would have expected.

	"What am I thinking?" she responded, somewhat playfully. The 
normally taciturn and quiet Luc was still an enigma to her; since she was 
leader, she felt it imperative to make the effort to meet him halfway. "And 
how did you get up here, anyway?"

	Luc smiled, but it was a cold and hard smile, not pleasant at all, 
which didn't befit his oddly feminine and beautiful features. He held up his 
right hand, the tracings of a Wind Rune still visible on it. "A bit more 
efficient than stairs."

	Looking away from Tavia and back over the land, Luc's smile 
disappeared. "You are thinking that this land is beautiful and quiet, and 
you are wondering, 'Why am I fighting? Everything looks to be in harmony.' 
You aren't the first to think it."

	Sighing faintly, Tavia nodded and set her tea down on the stone 
floor, turning and placing her hands on the balcony rail, setting her view 
east to Lindael and Bristow. "You're right, in a way. This is my home, Luc. 
And the more we fight, the more damage it's going to cause. I know this from 
growing up on a farm, from my grandfather's stories of the Crownbreaker War.

	"Soldiers don't care if they trample your fields. To them, food 
comes wrapped in cloth at ration time, not from a field, and not through the 
hands of hardworking peasants."

	"No," the mage replied, "you're right. They don't." He turned to 
Tavia, looking at her with his head faintly tilted. "Do you want to give up? 
You wouldn't be the first. I doubt you'd be the last."

	Tavia looked back at Luc briefly, then shook her head. "Do I? I'd 
thought about it. I know... I know people are counting on me. But it's 
draining, being this... thing, not a person. I'm a leader, a symbol... but 
that's not the same as being a woman. More like a tool than-- ugh!"

	Clutching her stomach, Tavia slumped to the balcony floor, breathing 
heavily. Pain coursed through her chest; apparently she'd strained herself 
walking the flights of stairs. But before she could wonder much about why 
Luc seemed in no hurry to help her, she heard the whispered words "Wind 
Rune, show your power...", and felt a gentle breeze wrapping around her 
body.

	After a moment or two the pain faded, and as she got up she saw Luc 
looking away again, the Wind Rune on his right hand glowing a soft sky blue 
to match the clouds below.

	"A healing spell? Kyrina has the same rune, and she doesn't know 
that magic..."

	Luc didn't bother to look back when he answered. "It is one of the 
more advanced powers of the Wind Rune. Unlike Fire Runes or Lightning Runes, 
the spells of the Wind Rune have a wide variety of uses," he explained. "All 
due respect to the elf, but she is not in my class of rune use."

	"Mmmm..." Tavia mumbled quietly, eyeing the rune on the young man's 
hand. As she did so, her vision seemed to unfocus briefly, and when it 
cleared, she felt an itching on her own hand. Looking down, she noted the 
gold tracings of the Victory Rune flowing with a faint light.

	"That's not a normal wind rune, though... is it, Luc?"

	There was a pause, and then the young man looked at her with a 
partially sad expression on his face. "Your instinct for the runes is pretty 
good, Tavia... no, it's not a normal Wind Rune, and that's why your True 
Rune is reacting. This..." he said, looking at his right hand with what 
almost amounted to disgust, "...is the True Wind Rune, one of the 27 True 
Runes."

	Tavia blinked in surprise, looking at it again. It certainly didn't 
look any different than Kyrina's Wind Rune, but in the back of her mind, she 
could sense it, somehow... the lines of power radiating from it. "I was 
going to ask if you were being serious, but I don't have to," she said 
faintly. "I can tell."

	Luc nodded. "A True Rune calls to another True Rune. Power calls to 
power. It's true for runes and it's true for people." Sighing, the mage 
looked back out into the clouds, now colored honey-gold in the rising sun. 
"I don't generally tell people about it, so please don't."

	"I won't, I promise. I know the trouble that knowledge can bring."

	"Do you? Windy, Leknaat... Teel McDohl, Genkaku's adopted son 
Riou... Jowy Atreides. Sierra Mikain, Viktor of North Window, High Priests 
Sasarai and Hikusaku of Harmonia... isn't that a long list? That's some of 
the people in your lifetime that have or have encountered the power of a 
True Rune. It's by no means a complete list, either."

	"And now I'm on it also..." Tavia whispered quietly. "I never asked 
for it."

	There was a pause, and Luc turned back to look at Tavia, finding 
that it was now she who was observing the clouds. "Let me ask you this. You 
said that you felt like a tool, rather than a person, sometimes. Right?"

	She nodded, and the mage continued. "Runes are tools, Tavia. The 
magic doesn't come from the rune, it comes from within. But True Runes are 
different, in a way. They use the holder as much as the holder uses them. 
They are tools that control their own destinies. That's what it means to be 
the Tenkai Star, Tavia Reinschild. You may be a tool, but there isn't a 
living being anywhere who isn't, in some way. A True Rune has chosen you 
because it felt you could bear the burden of destiny... that you could be a 
tool that uses itself."

	There were long moments of silence as Tavia thought about Luc's 
words, but by the time she thought of anything to say at all and turned 
around, he was gone as quickly and quietly as he'd come.

	"A tool that uses itself..."

				***

	Lierni had to admit, as she walked the halls of White Cloud's main 
keep, that things were somewhat coming together. While it was nowhere near 
to even the somewhat aristocratic style of Heimdall, the castle was 
beginning to feel like home.

	With no pressing martial matters besides training, the soldiers had 
plenty of time to get moving on restoring the crumbling walls, the cracked 
flagstones, the busted furniture... as she strode through the halls, Li 
could notice a significant improvement. Werner's gift of assistance from 
Bristow had included, thankfully, some artisans who knew what they were 
doing; when the soldiers had tired of sleeping and resting on furniture 
kludged together with the proverbial spit and bailing wire, woodworkers and 
stonemasons from Bristow had managed to construct, at the very least, 
servicable furnishings.

	More than that, though, there was something else to be noted around 
White Castle since she returned and Tavia's treatment successful: people. 
Besides the artisans from Bristow and the continuing trickles of stragglers 
from Senrou's former forces, there had been more and more men every week. 
When Koris sent home to Eregon for some of his tools, the courier returned 
with a cordon of the city's guardsmen, bearing a letter.

	"Dr. Herold Koris is a city treasure of Eregon," Daniel had read 
slowly when he arrived, as the doctor sorted through his things and Tavia, 
Lierni, and Reid watched. "Thus I am providing this small force to ensure 
his safe return to Eregon. Signed, Garin Telunham, mayor of Eregon."

	Reid had laughed, taking the letter from Daniel and holding it up to 
the light. "Garin's a sly man, and that's definitely the mayoral seal of 
Eregon. Helping us openly is one thing, but protecting a valuable natural 
resource is another, I guess."

	Grinning, Koris had simply clucked his tongue and continued sorting 
through his goods. "Natural resource my backside. Telunham's got bunyons, 
and he knows they're not going to improve unless I'm there to take care of 
him, the big baby."

	The former Academy mage stopped just shy of the former banquet hall, 
which, due to a partially collapsed ceiling, was useless as a general mess 
hall, but seemed to be doing alright as a sort of lounge. Outside, Zeb was 
quietly sitting a stool next to a darkened stairwell, whittling away at a 
piece of wood.

	"More sailors came today, Miss Totorika," he said languidly. "Sara's 
down there now talkin' to them." He jerked a thumb at the dark stairwell.

	Raising an eyebrow, the mage sighed and looked down at the writing 
board in her hands. "While I am sure this must be more 'fun' than lounging 
about on their boats all day waiting for something to bite, I must insist 
that perhaps she should turn some away. Our stores aren't going to last 
forever."

	Zeb shrugged. "If you don't mind my saying so, Miss Totorika, we'd 
be more helpful if there weren't so many steps from here down to the cove. 
The fishing ain't so bad a ways off shore from here, but there's no way to 
get a good amount up here to the main floors."

	"Hmm. Perhaps you have a point," Lierni admittedly, tapping her 
quill irritably against the board. The fisherman had a point; fish were a 
much better food than other meat for the long term; it pickled better, and 
didn't rot or spoil as fast as beef. But having climbed those stairs 
herself, a good twenty flights at the very least, she could hardly blame the 
fishermen. "There might be a way. I know in the cities just over the border 
in Lierstam, they're developing something called an 'elevator' for extremely 
tall towers. Perhaps we could find someone to build us one..."

	"Maybe you could," the fisherman responded slowly. "Maybe." There 
was a long pause, and then an extremely loud crash from inside the former 
banquet hall, followed by a lot of loud shouting.

	"What in the name of all the Runes was that?" Lierni demanded, 
looking at the large, double wooden doors that seperated that room from the 
hallway she was standing in.

	"I think that wild dancer woman had some plans for the room," Zeb 
said. "She and her kid and that femmy guy have been in there all morning."

	Lierni frowned. The 'wild dancer woman' could only be Nalia, and 
while she was against the permanent addition of something as frivolous as a 
dancer to the army's ranks, Luc had bemusedly informed her, in the absence 
of the Tablets of Destiny, that Nalia and Jasin were born under Stars of 
Destiny, and that had been enough for Tavia. "Without consulting me, 
naturally," she said, lips pursed, and strode forward to throw open the 
double doors.

	The words "What is going here?" died on her lips the second they 
swung open.

	Somehow, in the span of 18 hours, the last time Lierni remembered 
doing rounds, a partially empty, one-quarter open air former banquet hall 
was now... something considerably different. Swarming the part of the room 
which still had a ceiling was a cadre of army soldiers, nailing planks, 
shifting blocks of wood, tying ropes... some were even *sewing*. And the 
nearly complete result was, against all odds, the framework of an impressive 
proscenium stage, complete with curtains and hastily-erected wooden 
scaffolding.

	"If it isn't the ice mistress of White Cloud herself!" came a husky, 
boisterous voice from behind her. Li whirled to find Nalia, and behind her 
Jasin, standing in the doorway, each one carrying an armful of wood. "Come 
to see our work first hand, did you?"

	Of the many thoughts running through her head at the moment, Lierni 
latched onto the most stable one, likely to get the most useful information. 
"How did you convince these men to build something so frivolous in such a 
short amount of time?"

	Nalia shrugged as she walked past, pointing Jasin at a growing pile 
of spare wood and parts along the eastern wall, then sweetly placed her load 
in his arms and turned to Lierni. Grunting, the dancer's son ambled off to 
work with a displeased look.

	"Because it's something they need? Listen, girl. They're holed up 
here in the mountains with nothing to do but swing swords all day, waiting 
to rush into battle," Nalia said, sweeping her arm toward the busily working 
soldiers. "They're tired and they're not used to this hard a life. I might 
not be the person to lead a cavalry charge straight at an enemy general, but 
if these men need to relax at night and forget a bit about the harshness of 
the day... that's what being an entertainer is all about."

	"I... see," Lierni said faintly, glancing back at the men. "You're 
referring to morale. Admittedly, it had been slipping with Tavia's illness, 
so perhaps this is indeed what they needed." Coughing, the mage glanced back 
at Nalia with her normally stern face. "Not that I am a particular supporter 
of the baser arts, but it seems to be working, so I naturally cannot argue 
with success."

	"Naturally," Nalia replied smoothly, hiding her smile.

	"I do have one question, however," Li said, tapping her quill 
against her writing board slowly. "Who sowed the curtains? I didn't think 
any seamtresses or tailors had come..."

	Before the dancer could respond, a shape holding immense folds of 
burgundy brocade trimmed, in some spots, with gold fringe, appeared in the 
doorway behind them. The hint of white pleated slacks and an orange jacket 
could be seen behind the mass of cloth. "Madame Nalia, where would you like 
this latest batch?"

	Suppressing a considerably loud laugh, Nalia grinned and pointed her 
thumb. "There's your answer."

	A fine-featured face peeked out from behind the brocade, and eyes 
widened in shock. "Madameoiselle Totorika!" Alouette said, nervousness 
twitching at the edge of his lips. "What a pleasant surprise! I was just 
carrying this here for the tailors who were working on it..."

	"Now, now, don't be modest!" Nalia said with a grin, walking over 
and locking an arm around Alouette's, patting his forearm gently and turning 
her gaze back to Lierni. "Master la Lanterne was just helping a woman in her 
hour of need. He's got the figure for dancing, you know? And very talented 
with his hands. Now, come along, Alouette..."

	"Errr... yes, Madame..." the young swordsman said helplessly, 
trotting along after Nalia, but not before shooting a desperate look at 
Lierni, who fought to remain stonefaced.

	"I am sure he will learn a great deal from you, Nalia," the mage 
said smoothly. "Please let me know if you need anything."

	"Yes yes, right. Thanks for checking in!" With that, the dancer 
continued to pull Alouette along behind her. At the edge of her hearing, Li 
could swear she heard mention of putting Alouette in a costume similar to 
Jasin's, and the muffled thump of a medium-sized man and large bundle of 
curtain fabric hitting the ground together.

				***

	The Chancellor of Security's quarters and offices in Seraph's 
Citadel, the governing edifice of Lierstam, were richly appointed. Unlike 
Saints Castle, which was designed by the same architect for the Hereshans, 
Seraph's Citadel was built for horizontal rather than vertical 
impressiveness; the keep itself occupied a full half of the capital city's 
land area, set on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Harod Tovias had chosen a 
suite overlooking the placid ocean view, with a balcony and sunken reception 
area with couches.

	One of these couches supported Harod's brother Valon, still clad in 
his dark armor, as he laid there. The bruises and injuries of his battle 
with Reid had somewhat healed, but were nowhere close to being perfectly 
closed. "Indeed? Thank you for the kind words," he shot back.

	Sitting placidly at his desk, Harod shrugged and idly toyed with a 
paperweight on his desk, a dragon of incredibly rare blue jade from the 
northern part of Lierstam, carved so that it appeared to be rising from a 
sea of carved waves. "Don't be bitter, Valon. How fared your little 'trip'?"

	"Poorly, overall. The Totorika girl succeeded in bringing Herold 
Koris back to the castle at White Cloud. There is no doubt that Reinschild 
will be up and around soon. Even at the Medical Academy here in Lierstam, 
Koris' skills in medicine are respected."

	Harod sighed, running his finger around the blue dragon's jaw 
languidly. "I must admit, that's not what I was hoping to hear. Ansuro, the 
damn fool, is now bedridden. I've had to step up quite a few of my plans and 
I can't afford distractions like those damnable rebels up in the mountains. 
At least, not until Matteo is safely in the Chancellor's throne and I have 
Heresha in the palm of my hand."

	"Big words, brother," Valon said, forcing himself to sit up and 
wincing at the pain it brought. "But these rebels are not to be 
underestimated. My informants report that every day their numbers are 
swelling, slowly but surely. Add to that a defensible position..."

	There was a pause, before Harod simply smiled. "Oh, you're right. 
But what they lack... is a great mind. Thankfully, here in Lierstam they are 
not in short supply." He looked over toward the curtained vestibule of his 
office, and beckoned. "You may come in."

	The man that entered was... a mountain. At least 6'5" and pure 
muscle, he was dressed in a simple bronze hauberk and swordbelt over a dark 
violet tunic. His skin was almost as brown as the armor he wore, tanned and 
crisscrossed with the scars of many battles. Across his back was a long 
spear with a gently curving blade, giving the impression that a metallic 
snake was attached to a polearm shaft.

	"Valon Tovias, meet --"

	"I know who he is," Valon said through gritted teeth, standing even 
though the act sent rivers of pain coursing across his nerves. "That is 
Garnof Venomspear, the leader of the infamous Viper Fang Lancer Corps." He 
glanced at the large man for confirmation, and got it with a silent nod. 
"The weapon is unmistakable."

	Grinning, Harod nodded and stood up. "As to be expected of Valon 
Dragonslayer. Correct, this is Garnof. And as you also probably are aware, 
the Viper Fang are known for their extremely ferocious and remarkably 
effective battle skills."

	"And also for their lack of mercy, their devotion to nothing but 
money and ale, their lack of scruples, and their berserker nature." Valon 
added tersely.

	"You make those sound like bad things," Garnof said in a low, 
rumbling tone, like a tiger's purr.

	Valon could not resist a faint grin. "They are not good or bad. They 
simply are." He turned his gaze to Harod. "Are you suggesting using the 
Viper Fang to destroy the rebels?"

	Harod nodded. "One thing you are forgetting, brother, is their 
absolute discretion. Viper Fang lancers will die before revealing an 
employer's name or origins. That and their sterling record are what I need. 
Wiping out the rebels might not be an overt act of war, but it won't get us 
in with Heresha either. I need complete silence in all matters regarding 
this, and Garnof has promised me that."

	"But to ensure that, you're going to send me with him," Valon said 
sharply. It didn't necessarily please him, but he knew it was coming. And 
furthermore, it would keep the ninja clan from bothering him until the 
rebels were defeated, at which point he could thankfully bid them farewell.

	"You know me too well, brother. If, of course, this is acceptable to 
you, Venomspear?"

	Garnof's face remained impassive. "Valon Dragonslayer is not an 
unfamiliar name to me. His abilities are proven. So long as he can fight, I 
do not object."

	"Wonderful. You leave tomorrow. One of the handmaidens will find 
someone with a Water Rune to tend to you, Valon. Now, please, let me be. I 
have planning to do."

	Valon and Garnof nodded, then made their way out, each keeping 
sufficient distance from the other, taking each other's measure for the time 
being.

	They were thankfully out of earshot once Harod's laughing began.

				***

	Kyrina stalked into the castle in a troubled mood.  That was one 
expression Lierni had learned all too well how to read.  She increased her 
pace slightly, cutting off the part-elf woman before she could reach the 
stairwell.  "How bad is it?" she prompted, never one for wasting words.

	Kyrina arched an eyebrow at her.  "I was planning to report to 
Tavia, you know..."  She sighed wearily.  "It's pretty bad."

	A slight frown found its way onto Lierni's face.  "Tavia isn't fully 
recovered yet, as you well know.  Could it wait until tomorrow, at least?"  
She was afraid she already knew the answer, but she had to ask.

	"I'm afraid not.  There's a small army gathering on the Lierstam 
side of the border.  Looks like about 6,000 men, but that number could be 
off by a thousand in either direction.  Some of the other scouts are still 
keeping an eye on them... Kaleen's out there, too.  He knows the land pretty 
well, so we'll at least have some warning."

	"Troops from Lierstam?  I wonder..."

	Kyrina shook her head, anticipating the question.  "Not the Lierstam 
army, but it's bad enough.  Mercenaries and free lancers.  There's a man in 
black armor who we think is the leader.  These aren't green troops, Lierni.  
They're not as undisciplined as the Wind Children were, either.  It won't be 
simple to drive them off, if they attack us.  What can we field?"

	Closing her eyes, Lierni thought carefully for a moment, hoping 
against hope that she was overlooking some cadre of soldiers.  "Counting the 
handful of elites that arrived from Eregon a few hours ago... roughly 4,500.  
And 1,000 of those are untrained recruits, older children, or men and women 
we'd normally consider too old to fight."

	Kyrina's breath escaped in an alarmed hiss.  "So few..."

	"We cannot withstand a siege," Lierni bluntly stated.  "If they 
attack us now, we must meet them in the field, or starve inside."

	"We should have a few days to prepare..."

	"Not enough.  We can't gather sufficient rations and materials."

	"A sneak attack?"

	Lierni pursed her lips.  "Possible, but unlikely, given the terrain.  
I'm sure they have scouts of their own."

	"Magic?"

	"We might thin their forces to even odds, but then all of our rune 
users would be exhausted, and they would still retain the advantage.  
Assuming that they have no rune users of their own, in which case we might 
find ourselves wasting our strength for no gain at all."

	Kyrina grimaced, smashing her fist into her open palm.  "There must 
be something we can do..."

	Massaging her temples, Lierni closed her eyes again, brow furrowing 
in concentration as she focused on the problem.  Taking the knowledge she 
had, she attacked the problem from every angle she could think of, puzzling 
out the ramifications of each course of action.  Finally, she came to an 
indisputable conclusion.  "I cannot see a way."  The part-elf's eyes shot 
wide open in alarm, and she quickly added, "But I do see what we need."  
Kyrina watched her warily, until Lierni clarified:  "We need a strategist.  
I am not skilled enough in tactics or strategy to chart our course."  It 
stung her to make the admission, but she quashed the feeling.  It was a 
logical solution, was it not?

	"A strategist..."  Kyrina sighed.  "Senrou determined our strategy.  
I don't think anyone else in the force had his grasp of battle.  Reid would 
try, I'm sure, but..."  She trailed off, spreading her hands.

	"General Aisha Nevenheim," said a voice off to the side.  Kyrina 
whirled to see Alaric leaning nonchalantly against the arch of what might 
once have been a grand doorway but was now missing a door.

	Lierni's eyes narrowed.  "General Nevenheim is a top-ranked Hereshan 
officer.  It would be foolish to think that such a person might join the 
rebels.  Therefore, either you are a fool--"  Lierni's voice made clear that 
she didn't discount that possibility-- "Or you have some information that 
would lead you to believe otherwise.  So tell us what you know."

	The rune hunter from Lierstam grinned ruefully.  "Not quite the 
reaction I was hopng for... okay, okay," he added as Lierni's foot began to 
tap against the flagstones.  "When I was in Bristow, I did a little digging 
around.  Never hurts to listen to news and rumors in my line of work, you 
know..."

	"Assuming you can tell which is which."

	Alaric ignored Lierni's interruption.  "Anyway, I did hear something 
interesting.  Sort of put it out of mind until I heard you two talking about 
it, but... it seems Nevenheim's been arrested as a traitor.  They've stuck 
her in prison in Lindael.  If we could break her out..."

	Lierni slowly nodded.  "General Nevenheim is quite capable.  If she 
would join us, she might be able to determine a way for us to win this 
battle.  However..."

	"However," Kyrina sardonically parroted, "it's bloody dangerous.  
Sneak into our enemy's capital, break into their prison, free their general 
-- who is, no doubt, guarded very well, and who may be as willing to kill us 
as look at us -- and then get back out again?  Who's fool enough to risk 
their lives on that errand?"

	His grin only grew broader as he threw a theatrical wink at her.  "I 
was thinking you and me, beautiful."

	She stared at him incredulously for a moment and then, very slowly 
and precisely, buried her face in her hands.  "I knew it," she mumbled.

	"The idea is not entirely without merit..." Lierni began 
thoughtfully.

	"I knew it...."

	"But we work so well together."  Alaric chuckled.  "More 
importantly, they won't know me, and you have most of the skills we need.  
The only other people who could both pass without comment in the capital and 
take care of themselves in a fight are Daniel and my dear sister, and I'm 
not so sure about Daniel.  Everyone else is either obviously foreign, a 
noncombatant, or Lierni."

	"And just what do you mean by that, may I ask?"  Lierni's tone was 
arctic.

	"You've got a way of attracting attention," the wanderer quickly 
improvised.

	"Hmm."

	"... I knew it..."

				***

	The Old One sat in silence, as was his wont.

	The first thing he taught anyone in his tutelage was that in silence 
came enlightenment. Noise and bustle were things to be avoided, because they 
clouded the mind and restrained the thinking processes. The Old One noted, 
with wry amusement, that he was ignoring his own advice by providing a 
distraction for his meditation...

	...The Tablets of Fate.

	It was not the first time he had seen them, or even the second. He 
had seen the tablets many, many times, in another life, as he liked to call 
it. A time when the names, etched in stone by magic understood only by the 
seeress Leknaat, meant bright hope and a better future.

	Only many years of meditation kept him from leaping at the stone, 
and bloodying his fingers trying to scrape and claw the names of 'hope' from 
those tablets now.

	"You wish revenge," he said queitly, with a suddenness that set the 
ninja who had just entered behind him in a nervous stance. One black sleeve 
of her nightsuit was pinned up against itself; an arm had been taken from 
her, a parting gift from Nalia and Jasin in Eregon.

	"Yes, my master," she said quietly.

	The Old One did not turn around. His hand reached up, a gnarled 
finger tracing Nalia's name under her star, the Earthbound Fortitude star. 
What had her name been all those years ago? His memory failed him.

	"Revenge clouds judgement, young one. Your request is denied."

	"But, master..."

	"Silence. Your impatience only proves my point."

	The one-armed woman stepped back, bowing her head. "Of course, my 
master."

	"Working solely for revenge is not the aim of this clan. But the 
Tovias brothers have planned to wreck all we have built and worked for by 
destroying the Tenkai Star. This I will not allow."

	The Old One half turned, fixing one eye on the woman. "Take some 
men. Put some fear into Harod Tovias for now... he may be useful later, but 
he must learn humility. Control of the continent is nothing compared to 
controlling the Stars of Destiny."

	The ninja fought to contain her exictement. "Ye... yes, my master. I 
will not fail you."

	"See that you don't," the ancient man responded. "And as for Valon 
Dragonslayer..."

	"...teach him the punishment for treason."

				***

Author's Notes:

Dear god, what a tragedy. Black Cat wanted to write a part, and she had some 
good plans but RL got in the way for her, so I offered to switch, not 
knowing that I would thusly become insanely busy this week and not have time 
to even start on this until Friday. Amazingly enough, it came together. It 
didn't cover everything I wanted to cover, but it does what I wanted it to 
do, which is good enough for me.

This will be riddled with technical mistakes and such. Maybe I'll submit a 
cleaner draft later with Ard's permission, but I just didn't have time to do 
exhaustive spellchecking/proofreading. I apologize for that.

Thank you to Kate Malloy for the opening Sindar quote, and to Scott Schimmel 
for writing a scene for me at the last minute. I could not have done it 
without you. And naturally, thank you to Illyria for putting up with 
my continual neurosis about this.

While I've got you here, allow me to pimp ImproForum 
(http://lina.sandwich.net/forum) as well.

Ciao!
-Todd Harper, 6/30/01