Bushes rustled as a hare poked its long-eared head from the green shelter. Carefully, hesitantly did it creep onto the open, gray rocks. Its thin whiskers quivered, its tiny muzzle trembled as it sought smells from the air, looking for even the slightest of hints of a possible hunter in the woods. Its large, dark eyes kept glanced around furtively.

Finally the animal seemed to decide that the way was clear. Abruptly it leapt into air and dashed forward, bouncing from a rock to rock, from a moss hummock to another like a living rubber ball. Then, just as quickly as it had moved, the hare suddenly halted and craned its little neck. After a moment of silence the animal even leapt a little forward, as if attempting to get a better view of what had caught its attention. Then it tilted its brown-furred head, as if wondering at the comical sight.

There was a tiny, stooped Mole Clansman hustling around a humble herb garden. His fur was already grayish and completely bald on the top of his head. Dressed into an austere, brown robe and carrying a little straw basked in his arm, he clumsily squatted on the soil, digging out herbs and roots with a tiny shovel. Truly, there was such an irony in the performance that even a hare had had to stop and watch. A mole, of all things, burrowing in an herb garden!

"Truly now", the Mole Clansman puffed and wiped his hairless forehead with the sleeve of his rough robe, "I built my home right here so that I could be at peace from all kinds o' strangers and wanderers like yerself. Only Namanda knows why the traffic has increased all the sudden here." Straightening himself with a grunt, he pointed an accusing shovel at a man who was sitting on a rock a short distance away. "Ye hear me?" the Mole laughed good-naturedly, "not a moment o' peace with ye all!"

The man he addressed was tall and lean. He was dressed in dark clothes and a long, night-black coat that he kept indifferently unbuttoned. Leaning against his shoulder there was a slightly curved sword of almost spear-like length. "Did you know that there was a battle near by, Master Soyl?" he asked, wiping a lock of his long, silver hair from his face. Smiling mildly, he pointed upwards with his gloved hand. "Up there on the cliffs, right above your dwelling. Perhaps that might explain the sudden bustle."

"Aye", Master Soyl grunted and bent down to collect the herbs he had just dug up. "Echoes and vibration o' Earth tell me many things. Ye wouldn't know", he added, swinging his shovel in the direction of his guest once again, "ye carry a blade that belonged to the beings o' sky, ye don't know what Earth means to us o' the Mole Clan."

The frost-hair, who had been absently eyeing a curious hare that was peeking at them some distance away, threw a sudden glance at the old Mole. "Hm? You know of my sword?"

"Hah!" the little elder scoffed and continued burrowing through his garden, "Is there any scholar who's studied some legends yet wouldn't recognize the famed Quicksilver when he sees one!"

"Those who don't recognize", the frost-hair replied casually, "there are plenty of them. I, of all people, should know that."

"Whatever!" Soyl swung with his shovel, giving a good bum's rush to yet another piece of dirt. "But anyway, returning to the matter at hand. Truly now, I'm a bit too aware that they squabbled up there. Really, first breaking up the bridge I built with great pains and then one o' them coming crashing down, right through my roof and into my stables! Never, I mind, has such a thing happened to any o' my cousins!"

Again the frost-hair smiled that mild smile of his. This time, however, it was a bit wider than usual. "He has been pretty much of a hellion ever since his childhood."

"Ah, would he now!" Again Master Soyl laughed. "Well, the lad was lucky enough to come down right into the hay meant for my good ol' biruburu! He got only a couple o' cracked ribs and a broken leg. In a much better shape than the other one, I mind."

"Agreed. That fellow was a mess. I'm glad that the kid survived."

"Barely", Soyl waggled his shovel at the frost-hair. "Count yerself lucky that I happen to know some o' the lore o' healing, or he wouldn't have made it through one night!"

The man was silent for a moment. Folding his arms over his chest, he then asked: "Are you sure you don't want any money for this?"

"Money!" The Mole Clansman snorted and gave the idea a dismissive wave. "Hah, now what would I do with money? Hard work and the blessings o' Namanda, the Spirit o' Earth, gives me everything I need."

"Glad to hear that", the man nodded, changing the shoulder he leaned his sword against. "Are you done with the herbs soon?"

"Ah? Worried o' yer kid, are ye?" Stopping his work for a moment, Master Soyl squinted at his guest with his tiny eyes. "Worry not, we still have time before his fever gains too much o' him. But still -- " he gathered the last of roots into his basket and straightened himself up. "Let us make haste. His is a slumber o' fever. They don't mix, the sleep and the fever. I am done with the herbs."

The frost-hair nodded. "Good."

They walked across a little clearing in the bottom of the chasm and entered a doorway in the side of a large knoll (which also bore a large hole in its peak). The interiors of the house of Master Soyl were brown and spartan, furnished with worn, sturdy chairs, tables and cupboards, all of which had probably seen over a century of use. The ceiling was so low that the frost-hair had to stand stooped in order to safeguard his head. Walking down a little set of stairs, they arrived at the bedchamber that was even more cramped than the rest of the house. Taking a moment of surveying their fidgeting and shivering patient, Master Soyl turned and waddled into the kitchen.

"Aye, his fever is bad. Making the tonic will take just a moment", the elderly Mole Clansman announced, "and the lad himself has to do the rest. Hope for his best, beanpole."

"Please don't dally around", the frost-hair replied, "I want to punish him for having the nerve of start dying without me strangling him."

Even though his words were stern and his tone strict, he looked at the patient with a great concern glimmering in his golden eyes.

* * * *

After making sure that he was completely alone, the assassin pushed the door ajar. Dressed into the colors of the night itself, he slid from the dim light of the corridor into the gentle darkness of bedroom with all the grace of a shadow. His gloved hand held a dagger, a wicked tool of his grim trade, forged of black metal and dipped in poison that could kill even a biruburu within a few moments.

He was a bringer of Death, and his target was within his sight. A lovely young girl, sleeping peacefully in her cuddly bed. Through the open window came a ray of moonlight, falling over her golden locks and giving them a beautiful, almost heavenly glow. Like a little princess she slept, her lips turned up into a smile as she dreamed of her little prince.

Instead of a prince, she would get death.

Little did the assassin care about such things. He had a task to be done, and he would get paid for it. There was no reason to sentimentalize here. With a few, cat-like strides the assassin was standing over the bed, his moss-green eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Quickly, almost eagerly, the black blade in his hands descended over her little throat and slit.

Suddenly the girl's large eyes flung open. Like stars they gleamed as she horrifiedly stared at the bringer of death. Desperately she attempted to gasp for breath, attempted to scream, but no voice came out from her throat.

White sheets turned red, their new color glowing almost grotesquely in the pale, silvery moonlight.

For a moment the assassin stared at his handiwork. Another job done, another fortune to be collected from the employer. Slowly he lift his gloved hand and drew down the night-black veil that covered his face. His sharp features honed even more by his wide, evil smile, he extended his free hand and dipped his fingertips into the red fluid on the sheets.

It tasted…good.

His smile spreading out into a teeth-revealing grin, he lifted his dagger again… and again… and again…

…..

"Idiot." Pooka O'Silver said grimly as Aryn Seaholt splashed and sputtered in the freezing water of a mountain brook. "Do I truly have to pull out a hammer to get it into your thick skull, loghead? Never think too highly of yourself!"

Gripping his practice sword tightly in his hands, Aryn struggled to get up from the brook. "But --" he began, still spitting water from his mouth.

"Silence", Pooka cut him off. Leaning his long, scabbard-covered sword against his shoulder, the swordsmaster cast a glance at his black boots and sighed. His long, dark coat fluttered in the wind around him. "You're testing my patience, Ears." When he lift his head again, his golden eyes were gleaming, glimmering, almost blazing with a demonic flame of anger within. His words were hissed with burning ardor: "When you enter a battle, you aim for the kill! You haven't defeated your enemy until he is dead, laying at your feet! Show no mercy! Now come, loghead! Come with all you got!"

Wind picked up a sudden chill, it howled in the bushes, in the hollows, in the naked branches of black trees. Dark, grey clouds rolled overhead, a brilliant bolt of lightning flashed, thunder boomed. In the midst of it all stood the demon Pooka O'Silver, his eyes blazing against the darkness around him, his beautiful, silver mane of hair billowing in the wind. Horrified and aghast, Aryn could but stare, his eyes wide as the swordsmaster lift his weapon before him and grabbed its handle.

The blade he drew out was terribly long, slightly curved, and black. It was blacker than night, blacker than the abyss itself, sucking all the light around him, draining even the eerie, blue glow of thunder flashing overhead. "All you got, Paws!" Pooka screamed over the howling winds, lifting his horrible sword high and lunging at his pupil, his dark coat flapping, twisting, morphing into a pair of wings, black as the finest feathers of a Dark Angel.

"Master!" Aryn gasped, his voice quelled in the storm. Panting and slipping on the wet rocks, he scrambled to his feet and lifted his sword into a desperate attempt to defend himself from the Blade of Death itself.

A blade of long naginata clashed against the bodyguard's battle dagger, flew away and flashed again, attempting to find an weakness, a hole, any kind of opening from Aryn's defenses.

"A broken blade", Jei Adamanto laughed as he lunged, leapt, whirled and danced around Aryn Seaholt as they fought in the middle of the dark storm clouds. The assassin's smile was sick as ever. "All rusted up! I really have to thank you for going out of my way back then!"

Dodging left and right, parrying, blocking, Aryn fought to keep a distance from his enemy. A terrible stinging throbbed in his chest, his lungs were about to burst! He stepped out from the whistling naginata's way, whirled around and aimed a back-slash at his enemy. Jei blocked easily. Back and forth they struggled in the coiling storm, thunder boomed in their ears, lightning blinded their eyes. Yet still they fought, knowing that there would be no mercy for the loser. Attack, parry, counter-attack, dodge, each strike and slash was met with precision, nothing got through.

"You are dead!" Aryn panted as he finally managed to leap backwards without Jei instantly following him.

The Soaring King halted. Chuckling, he wiped a lock of his dark-brown hair from his face and whirled his weapon onto his shoulder. "…'zat so?" he asked venomously. "Well… you know what?" His smile spread out into a grin, almost impossible wide. "So are you!"

And suddenly there were a dozen of Jei Adamantos, their naginatas glimmering, swinging, thrusting, stabbing, slashing at Aryn in one violent whirlwind of razor-sharp blades. The bodyguard parried, dodged, did his all to keep the assassins from drawing his blood. This was impossible! This never happened!

A long lightning struck from the heavens like a sacred spear of Gods themselves. But instead of pale blue color, it was brilliant white, shining from the darkness with the power of a thousand suns. It coiled and bent, turning into an incredibly long, slightly curved sword, forged of the purest of silver. A black-gloved hand grabbed the weapon and swung it, a crescent of white, roaring flames following the path of the blade as it slashed through the darkness.

* * * *

Two days had passed.

The wizard's pace was a peaceful one, his steps were unhurried and absent. One by one he set his feet forward, each step took him a little further along the dirt-covered path that was curving around an oval-shaped pond, its blue waters gleaming and glimmering in the afternoon sun. His hands were hidden behind his back and his head was bowed. The wizard's eyes were watching the path under his feet, yet his thoughtful expression betrayed that he really wasn't seeing anything.

The sudden noise shook Yoji from his musings and made him lift his white-haired head. Soon his puzzled expression changed into a warm smile as he located the source of this disruption. Yes, it was that black-winged girl again.

Her wings carefully folded behind her, Nina Windia was sitting on the pond's bank. Her jaw supported by her palm, she had bent her head forward and was currently gazing into the depths of water. Her golden hair had partly fallen to shade her face, yet Yoji could still see the frown on her forehead and the pout on her lips.

She was an unusual girl, Yoji readily granted her that. And he was not thinking just about those wings she had. She was thoughtful and serious beyond her age. Yoji had talked with Raven just yesterday, and the dark-hair had agreed with the wizard: though the girl did her best to show a happy face, she had locked something deep into her heart. Something that gave her eyes that dim touch, something that sometimes made her stare into nothingness with a mourning look on her face.

It was moments like this one when the Windian girl let her shroud of mystery part, allowing Yoji to see a glimpse of whatever was hidden inside. He did not like what he saw. She was wounded. Badly. She was spending massive amounts of energy to heal it, to encase the scar in her core with a hard crust. That progress, Yoji feared, would be very difficult to stop.

This was why Yoji had given this black-winged girl his offer. She needed something else to think about.

Absently Nina picked up another pebble from the bank and tossed it into the pond.

A circular ripple disturbed the otherwise still waters. It widened and spread out, radiating from the spot where the gray stone had broken the surface. Nina stared at that very same spot for a moment before she finally mumbled: "Hello."

Yoji lifted his white eyebrows. "You noticed me?"

Nina raised her eyes from the pond and gave the wizard a little smile. "I once had a friend who used to sneak up on me like that. After a while you start noticing when someone's behind you."

"I…see." Again she spoke about a friend with past tense. Pondering this strange and ominous detail, Yoji rubbed his jaw and added somewhat nervously: "I'm not -- uh -- disturbing you, am I?"

"Oh, no", Nina answered. With a sigh she stood up and brushed dirt from her clothes. "How are Raven and Ayena?"

Yoji gave out a nervous chuckle. "They still refuse to even speak to each other. All the fuss over a single bird…" Seemingly giving up, he shrugged. "Ah, I suppose we all have our penchants."

"I… suppose so." Nina mirrored his shrug. She was silent for a moment. During that moment she looked somehow… awkward, as if she was expecting for something and felt herself uncomfortable when it did not come. "When are you going to ask?" she finally blurted out.

"Ask?" Again Yoji lifted his eyebrows. "Ask what?"

"If I've decided what I want from magic."

"Oh, that", Yoji stammered. "It has already been -- uh -- two days, hasn't it?" Gesturing Nina to follow him, the wizard turned and began strolling down the path again, walking with pleasurable pace. "You certainly do careful work with your thinking."

Nina attempted to smile as she answered: "A friend of mine once said that big decisions that change your life can't be made easily. I suppose this is one of them."

"I…see", Yoji frowned. "What is your friend's name?"

"Aryn", Nina replied quietly. "His name was Aryn Seaholt." Keeping a short pause, she turned to look at snow-covered mountains rising in the distance, far, far to the west. "The another friend was Silen… I really liked them both."

Was? Yoji silently wondered. Well, that confirmed it, then.

* * * *

A horrible, feral roar suddenly echoed throughout woods. A flock of little birds fluttered abruptly into air, squirrels and bank moles rushed for shelter.

Nina and Yoji froze into their tracks. The wizard forgot one foot into air and almost stumbled because of it. Lost in their discussion about magic, the two had walked quite a distance into the forest. In other words, they were quite a distance from the shelter of the village…

It was a very disturbing thought.

"What was that?" Nina whispered. The bellow had been so furious, so bloodthirsty that her imagination instantly conjured demons into these woods, horrible creatures of her worst nightmares.

Twisting his hands, Yoji eyed their surroundings. He opened his mouth and drew breath, but had to swallow before he could answer: "Ah… I believe that was -- " Whatever he had been about to say was quelled by another roar, this one louder and -- if possible -- even fiercer than before. It was accompanied by loud crashing and snapping of branches and roots as something enormous made its way toward them. It was near… no, it was here.

The bear-like creature was carried through bushes by two legs, but it was clear that it could move just as well on all four. Its body was very heavily built and covered with a thick mat of greenish-grey fur. Even through all that hair Nina could see formidable muscles bulging in its front paws -- paws that ended in enormous, grey claws. Although the creature's stature was hunched, it still rose far beyond the top of Yoji's head. Slobber and foam oozed from gaping maw, its yellowish teeth were long and sharp.

"A bugbear!" Yoji cried out, a small amount of panic easily hearable in his voice.

"It's wounded!" Nina pointed at a red stain in the creature's left side. Though the sight of bugbear had given her an overwhelming urge to run, a little, cynical part of her mind estimated the situation with frightening calmness. Wide-eyed, the Windian realized something horrible: "And it's heading straight to the village! We have to warn them!"

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…" was Yoji's only reply. The wizard was clearly suffering from breathing difficulties, he pressed his hand tightly against his chest. Air wheezed in his throat as he inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled in a rapid succession. "I -- I have to kill it before it harms somebody!"

It was as if the bugbear had heard and understood the wizard's words. Its frenzied red eyes suddenly snapped into focus as it found a target for its rage. Human had wounded it, human would pay! The beast's roar was loud enough to echo back from distant mountains.

"Oh dear…" His hands shaking furiously, Yoji fumbled through the pockets of his long coat. "The ring… the ring", he mumbled, his voice barely hearable over the bellowing of the bugbear as the beast prepared to cover the short distance between them. "No, no." The wizard's hand clenched into a fist. "That wouldn't work. Perhaps -- no, that would be all too weak… oh dear, oh dear…"

"HURRY!" Nina shouted, an utter panic giving her voice unusual strength. She could handle assassins, pirates, kimonos, but she certainly could not stand the sight of a berserk bugbear. Her blood rushed in her veins, the wild beating of her heart filled her ears. "Do something!"

"What if I could slow it with --" The Windian's panic was spreading to the old wizard, turning his nervousness into terror. His hands moved with fevered speed as they rummaged through his pockets. "No. Oh dear…"

With a bloodthirsty roar the bugbear sprung forward. Bushes were crushed under its pillar-like feet, its claws lashed out for Yoji's head.

"Oh, Ladon curse it!" the wizard exclaimed. He lifted his hands into a flourish and uttered a word. His voice was loud and clear like a bellow of thunder. Brilliant blue light flared and danced around his palms, and the sky responded.

With a boom that made the bugbear's roar sound like a meek whisper, a pillar of flashing, crackling lightning struck from the sky. With it came a blast of wind, strong enough to whip the wizard's coat and send Nina off her feet. Trees were split apart, stones were crushed to pebbles as the heavens sent their fury to the ground. For the tiniest of moments entire forest was engulfed in a brilliant, blinding flash of white light. Then it ended just as suddenly as it had begun, leaving only a dimming afterimage and distant echoes behind.

"Oh dear…"

Her jaw slack, Nina blinked at the bright, multi-colored spots dancing before her eyes. She shook her head in order to clear the buzzing that filled her ears. "W-w-wow" was the only thing she could mutter. The sight before her could accept no other word.

Master Yoji was standing before her, his long coat fluttering gently in the quiet breeze. The old wizard looked remarkably embarrassed as he regarded a deep, round crater where the bugbear had been just a moment ago. All the grass had been burned from that area, leaving only charred, smoky soil behind. The surrounding trees were either in splinters or their trunks had been blackened and a good amount of their leaves had been blown away by the ferocious wind. The once-lush bushes were now but a smoldering memory.

"Well…" Yoji said after a long silence. Nervously he rubbed his jaw and attempted to smile. "At least that should have warned the village folk… How clumsy of me. I am truly embarrassed…"

"What on earth you are talking about?" Nina asked as she struggled to get up again. Her eyes were glimmering with excitement, her young features had been lighted by a sunny, admiring smile. "That was… cool! I've never seen anyone working greater magic!"

"No, no…" Yoji, alarmed by all this praise, shook his hands before him. "I mean, it was terribly inept of me to go blasting off like that. I just…paniced. Such a thing is not tolerated from a wizard. Magic bestows an enormous responsibility for the one who wields it… especially when it comes to the area I specialize in."

Nina shrugged. She simply could not tear her eyes from the smoking crater before them. "What do you mean by that? Why does divination require such a responsibility?"

"Divination?" Yoji lifted his eyebrows and rubbed his temples. "Where did you get that idea? I am not specialized in divination. I am… uh…" Slowly the wizard's gaze fell to the ground, his voice trailing away. Nervously he shuffled his feet.

"Well?" Nina couldn't wait what he would say next. "What are you, then?"

"I am a…" Yoji lifted his eyes and gave Nina an almost apologetic glance. "…a War Wizard. I specialize in attack magic."

Quickly Nina lifted her hand to her mouth. This man looked so innocent, so gentle, so… very well, she had to admit it: so cowardly, that the Windian could never have even imagined such a thing!

"Oh, no, Miss!" Deciphering Nina's expression totally incorrectly, Yoji scrambled to explain himself. "I am more of a teacher than an actual warrior! I am no killer, I have never massacred any people or anything…"

"Never even entered my mind!" Nina exclaimed. "I just -- I just never guessed that you could hide such a power!"

"A good wizard", Yoji replied solemnly, "never overuses magic." He sighed and scratched his balding scalp. "I try to be a good wizard."

"Um… Miss Nina?" Yoji's voice was nervous. "Why are you staring at me?"

* * * *

The candle shone like a tiny beacon in darkness. The light shining from its bright, yellow flame fought against shadows, struggling to keep them in the corners of this small room. Darkness danced on the walls. Every now and then a quiet night breeze would send the flame wavering, yet soon it all would calm down again.

Supporting her jaw with her hand, Nina leant against the table. Quietly her eyes watched how a drop of white wax broke away from the top of the candle and slowly made its way down the half-melted stem.

Another breeze wafted through an open window and sent the candle flame shivering.

The wooden legs of her low stool scraped against floorboards as Nina stood up. She crossed the small chamber Ayena had kindly rented for her from the Forest King and stopped before a small mirror hanging on the wall. For a moment she just stood there, studying at the young, golden-haired girl staring from the other side of the glass. Finally she could realize why Aryn had sometimes just paused to stare at her face. It was those eyes… those large eyes held a mark of all what she had been forced to experience during this month. It was a touch of sadness and tragedy, Nina could see that now. Perhaps that mark would stay in her for the rest of her life. She did not know.

Slowly she gathered her messy hair (Ugh! How many times she had already forgotten to brush it?!) and nimbly bound it into a ponytail. After a moment of evaluating she plucked and picked her hair a little, attempting to give the ponytail that familiar, a slightly shabby look. When she was finally somewhat satisfied, the Windian girl took a relaxed pose and ran her hand through her hair.

"I think it's about time for you to decide where do you want to go, girl", she said as coolly as she could. "I can't keep on protecting you forever, you know."

She had hardly managed to finish the sentence before she burst into a quiet giggle. Aryn would probably throttle her for this imitation. But Aryn… and Silen… they were both dead, Nina once again reminded herself. With a sigh she snatched away the blue silk ribbon she had used to tie the ponytail and let her hair fall back down to frame her face.

"You're right, Aryn", Nina stated to the young Windian in the mirror. She noticed how the raven-black wings in that girl's back shuddered determinedly. "For good or bad, it's about time for me to make up a decision."

* * * *

On that very same night, Master Yoji, an honorable teacher of the Great School of Magic got an unexpected visitor into the room he had rented from the Forest King. Throwing his blanket out of the way, the wizard pulled himself into a sitting position in his bed and attempted to squint into the darkness. "Uh? Who's there?"

"It's me", came the quiet, almost shy answer. "Nina."

"Ah, Miss…" A couple of muttered words and a small flame appeared onto Yoji's palm, turning the realm of darkness into the realm of leaping, dancing shadows. The light illuminated the room just enough for the Windian girl and the wizard to see each other.

Awakened in the middle of his sleep, Yoji certainly was not a very impressive sight. His white hair flowed in a messy stream from underneath his deep-blue nightcap. His forehead was in a puzzled frown. "How… how did you get into my room?" the wizard asked, blinking his dusky eyes to free his mind of drowsiness.

"Umm… You had left it unlocked", Nina replied, not daring to lift her gaze. She twiddled and twisted her fingers behind her back.

"Did I? How forgetful of me. It's good that you came to remind me of it." The wizard absently scratched his beard. Then something seemed to occur into his mind, as he aimed a little disapproving scowl at Nina. "Speaking of which -- what exactly are you doing in my room at this hour? There are numerous more polite opportunities to pay a visit to an old wizard, you know."

"I -- I…um…" Though Nina had already made her decision a lot before leaving her room, she now found herself with a sudden feeling of uncertainty. She shuffled her feet and swallowed, searching for words. She had carefully thought about right things to say before entering Yoji's room, but now, when the real thing was at hand, she forgot it all. Truly now, just as Aryn had said, big decisions were never easy ones. "It's… it's about magic. I… I don't want magic to rule my life… I want to have to time to my friends, too… but…" Slowly she lifted her eyes and gave Yoji a steady gaze.

"I want to learn magic."

After a moment of silence, a warm, fatherly smile lighted the wizard's wrinkled face. He nodded once, twice, as if making his mind up for something.

"And I", he then said. His voice was gentle. "I shall be more than happy to teach magic."

Previous: Chapter XV
Next: Chapter XVII
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