Misgivings

From the mostly open-air throne room, Amiti could see much of what transpired above-ground in Ayuthay. People ran about, some fearful, some pretending to be unaffected, still others completely oblivious. It was the last group he feared the most, people who shut themselves off from travesty and adversity, preferring to pretend it doesn't exist than to fight.

One of his advisers had been that way. Oh, a few more Ayuthian's turned up dead in the night? Probably just accidents, really. Can't possibly be the serial killer. Not long later he was found dead in his mistress's house, along with the mistress herself, their entrails pulled out and used to construct a bizarre pentagram.

Amiti cringed. These weren't just murders. Some of the bodies had been... mutilated. Eaten, bits and pieces of body chewed off. And each and every murder victim had the same tell-tale sign – the heart was missing, as if cut out, but Amiti feared they were eaten.

He knew his people slept every night wondering if they'd wake the next morning. People feared for their children, for their spouses, and families. Some had even taken to the roads, fleeing to other cities like Passaj and Harapa. Their lack of confidence in his rule had shaken him, but he supposed that they were not wrong. A mass murderer was on the loose, and Amiti could do nothing but wait and watch.

His guards seemed to find nothing when they investigated the instances. Just to ensure they were doing their job correctly, Amiti inspected a crime scene not a week past. Despite pleas from his advisers otherwise, Amiti saw the horror for himself. That time, it was an entire family that had been killed – the most for a single incident. A mother, father, grandfather and two children all lay dead, their hearts ripped out, their faces chewed, barely recognized as people. Amiti retreated to the castle quickly, throwing up his breakfast.

There was a pattern to the attacks. None ever occurred inside the royal palace, they only occurred at night, and only within closed buildings. The braver souls had left their doors open at night, which had spawned a plague of thieving, not to mention the already rampant looting brought about by people upping their families and leaving. Others simply moved into the streets – he was unaware if any of them had been attacked yet.

He was watching his entire city fall apart, disappearing into fear and depravity. The severe difference between attacks on upper-tier Ayuthians and those against the rest left the people suspicious of royal involvement in the attacks, which didn't help Amiti's case either. On one side he was blamed for inaction, the other for perpetrating.

Exhaustion. That was much of what he felt nowadays. He slumped further into his throne, picking at his nails absentmindedly. Then there was boredom, mixed with ever-present anxiety and brief pangs of terror. What a joy ruling was.

"Chylano," He gestured to the captain of his royal guard, a slender yet unnaturally strong man with jet black hair and bright, usually lively, eyes. Despite his youthful appearance, the man was phenomenally quiet, almost creepily so, but Amiti trusted the man – he'd been part of Paithos' personal guard for years. He'd always been there, though after the Grave Eclipse, Amiti wondered that maybe he'd gotten a bit skinnier. Understandable, considering what had happened.

"Yes, my liege?" The man instantly snapped to attention, with a practiced military precision that came with years of service and loyalty. As much as Amiti found him personally unappealing, Chylano was steadfast and loyal.

"Summon Irria, if you would. I need to speak with her." Chylano nodded immediately and set off in search of the woman. Irria was an adviser who had become close to Paithos in his dying days, though Amiti knew little of the woman herself. Apparently she was a powerful adept, strong enough to hold off many of the shadow creatures during the Grave Eclipse.

A few minutes later, the woman appeared. She looked about mid-twenties and was pretty, which some had stated was Paithos's true reason for keeping her around, but Amiti couldn't shake the feeling that her eyes betrayed an age and wisdom befitting a old woman, rather than the age she seemed. Long blonde hair flowed down to her waist, with fierce emerald eyes. She seemed unfazed by the rumors circulating about her and the late king, shrugging everything off with a calm and collected indifference. She was, quite simply, remarkable.

She's older than I am, but very alluring. Amiti thought to himself. It's not often I forget myself around women. Irria is the first since K-

"Did you have something to say, my liege?" Irria smirked, planting a hand on her hip. "Or were you just planning on blankly staring at me?"

"Oh, uh, right," Amiti collected himself, straightening his back on the throne. "I am interested in your previous offer of help. I would like to know what powers your psynergy could possibly employ in helping track down this serial killer. Though your skill as an adept is widely known, I have not seen it myself and do not know how to use you best."

"Use me best?" A coy smile. "My dear king, I am not one of your loyal subjects. I am here out of convenience's sake. If you seek my help, you have to be able to be able to provide me with some sort of payment."

"Then you're a mercenary?" Amiti felt his stomach turn. He knew her type, then. Heartless, coin-driven; suddenly her relationship with Paithos seemed a lot more suspect. However, he needed skilled help. "Name your price."

"I want free reign to enter any part of the under-city ruins as I see fit." She said quickly, as if anticipating Amiti's statement. "And free room and board in the palace."

"Afraid of the dark, Irria?" Amiti dared to say, reflecting the notion of the palace being the only safe place in Ayuthay. "Why do you want access to the under-city? There's nothing down their but collapsed tunnels and shadow creatures left over from the Grave Eclipse. It's sealed off for a reason."

"My reasons are my own," Again, too quick of a response. "But should you choose to hire me, I will jealousy guard your people and do all I can to protect against another attack. You could consider me yours, body and soul."

Amiti paused for a long while, then sighed, nodding his head. "Fine. You have your access and your food. My offer will be revoked should you become lazy in your hunt for the serial killer, however. Do not test me in this."

"You are very gracious," Irria stated, her face not even slightly surprised. Like she saw it coming. She bows, then exits, not waiting for Amiti to dismiss her.

"She does not give a king his respect." Amiti observed, slouching in his chair, his head on one hand. "Irria better prove herself to be useful if she's to be acting this way."
"My liege," Chylano piped up, "May I speak?"
"Of course."

"Irria has already been helping with the effort to find the killer." Chylano's expression seemed blank when he stated this, monotone and cold. "You have effectively given her something in exchange for nothing."

Suddenly he felt resigned, foolish. Amiti knew he was still only getting used to being king, but the moments he felt ineffective and weak seemed frequent. Left and right he felt taken advantage of, though he refused to let it show.

"Shall I bring her back?" Chylano asked helpfully.

"No, no, it's fine." Amiti shrugs. "Perhaps she will work harder knowing I am watching her carefully."

"Be careful about being taken advantage of, my king." Chylano stated. "People will be quick to turn against you if they perceive you as weak, and a king without his people is no king at all."

"I understand that." Amiti waved away the warning. "Paithos was sure to instruct me well in the ability to rule. If I follow his example, I should be fine. He was a strong, fair and wise king. I will honor his legacy."

"King Paithos ruled a fragile kingdom beset by war," Chylano's tone turned harsh, a rarity for him. "And his people united only because of the threat of Wo. With him moved into Sana, we do not risk land invasion. Our people are freed of their ties to Paithos, and he will not be remembered as a strong king, let alone a wise one."

"Watch your tongue," Amiti snapped at him, angered by his comments. "Paithos was a good man, and tou will utter no such foul words around me. Do you understand?"
Chylano's eyes gazed back, unflinching, yet unsettling, "Of course, my liege."

o

"Where are we in respect to," Matthew cast a long look around, lingering slightly on the sunset, "Well, anything familiar." Karis felt oddly nervous. At some point they had become lost somewhere north or west of Konpa Cave, but they lost sight of any landmarks and were simply wandering now.

"I'm sorry, Matthew. I thought I knew this route better, I-" Karis started, but Matthew just smiled at her, stopping her.

"It's alright, Karis. It's my fault too for not catching that we were going in the wrong direction." Matthew said, and Karis smiled back. "I guess Tyrell was smart for staying at home. By now, I expect Garet to already be back, though I can't be certain."

"I feel bad about Tyrell; we didn't part on good terms." Karis looked in the direction she thought was home, but she had no way of knowing. "I shouldn't have been such an ass to him just because his opinions differed from mine."

"We were all acting up." Matthew laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Being in that house, alone, with nothing that we knew we could do, our parents missing, it's no surprise that our nerves became frayed."

"Still, I'd like to apologize to Tyrell when we see him again." Karis sighed as Matthew nodded. "Do you think Ivan really knows anything about the psynergy vortex?"

"Maybe not the one back home, specifically," Matthew's expression bunched up as he thought. "But I remember hearing that he was studying the fundaments of Weyard itself. He'd disappeared for a long time with Felix before you were born, according to my dad."

"Yeah," Karis thought back to when Isaac told them the story. He had seemed almost angered, even though it had been years before at that point. "Felix is still gone, and Ivan wouldn't reveal where he'd gone. There was a huge fight between your parents and mine."

"It's unfortunate. Perhaps if they hadn't had that argument, I'd know your father better." Matthew shrugged, "On the few times I'd seen him, he seemed phenomenally bright."

"Do you think he's in danger?" Karis asked, "I know dad's got this weird way of getting out of trouble, but now he's acting as an adviser for a war!"

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Matthew smiled reassuringly.

The last few days were fairly uneventful for Karis. She still had those random flickers of romantic thoughts when she looked at Matthew, occasionally, but being around him all day every day had a way of making her stop paying attention to this. She'd known Matthew for years and was incredibly comfortable around him; no doubt he was the same way with her.

What had bothered her for so long was whether his feelings towards her had ever been romantic. Karis sighed; it was entirely possible she'd just never know, unless she did something. Occasionally she'd notice him looking at her when he figured she wasn't pay attention, or squeezing her hand back when she held hands with him, but she could just chalk that up to wishful thinking.

It had also occurred to her that maybe she was spending too much time and energy on Matthew. Sure, traveling with him, alone, had been the real reason she followed him – as much as she wanted to see her father again, it wasn't her primary motivation. Even in a war, he could probably handle himself.

But what was she going to do when they finally get to Champa? Stay with Matthew until Belinsk and watch him and Sveta reunite? Or maybe she'd reject him again? Unexpectedly, she found that thought painful. Matthew would undoubtedly be completely broken up if Sveta turned him down again; the thought of Matthew in pain was nearly unbearable.

"Damn it. It sucks that we're lost. Almost makes me wish we'd opted to avoid Champa and instead crossed through Bilibin." Matthew sighed, looking around them, then pointed suddenly. "From what my psynergy tells me, we're not too far from a complex of caves. Maybe that's Konpa? It doesn't feel the same, though." He turned about, and Karis saw the Amrit flower shift. Matthew had bought a pack at Carver's Lumbermill and had taken to letting the flower sit inside of there, dirt and roots and all, the flower itself sticking out, an oddly majestic sight.

"We might as well try it out," Karis shrugged. "Let's go." She walked past Matthew, grabbing his hand and leading them in the direction he had pointed.

She'd taken up a habit of holding his hand whenever possible. Matthew didn't seem to mind – either he was painfully oblivious to her affections for him or he did, indeed, feel something for her – so she was doing it more and more often. Karis knew she was taking a risk with this, especially with Matthew's continued reluctance to give up talking about Sveta.

"Hey, Karis, nevermind the cave. It's getting late and we need to set up camp." Matthew motioned towards a small break in the trees to their left, shaded by a thick cover of leaves. "We're unlikely to find any better of a place before it gets dark."

"Right," Karis nods in agreement and they start letting their stuff down. She looked up at the sky, darkening with the dying light. Matthew carefully took the Amrit plant out of the bag, placing it on the ground in a hole he quickly dug with his psynergy.

"It seems like the Amrit flower changes colors depending on the time of day. I swore I thought it was blue on the full moon last night." Karis started to gather firewood. Without a fire adept, they'd have to start a fire the old fashioned way. As much as it was a pain in the ass, Karis knew it was necessary in order to keep the monsters away. She had no inclination to being torn apart by hostile creatures in the night.

"Sveta used to love a certain kind of flower." Matthew leaned back against a tree with an absurdly large trunk, a wistful expression on his face. "It was really light blue and they were pitifully small, but would grow in these little clusters. Can't remember the name of them for the life of me."

Karis lit some embers, using psynergy to blow life into the infant fire. She didn't respond to Matthew – she didn't really enjoy Matthew's insistence on bringing Sveta up. Matthew, of course, didn't seem to notice.

"I-I'm sorry, Karis." Matthew said suddenly. The unexpected statement made Karis drop the bundle of tinder she'd been cradling. I guess he noticed after all. "I shouldn't keep talking about Sveta around you."

"W-Why does it matter, Matthew?" Karis blurted out, her first reaction being to act oblivious. Turning back to the fire, she ensured that it was flaring up nicely, then walked to Matthew, sitting next to him at the trunk of the large tree. "You can talk about Sveta if you want to."

"But you wouldn't appreciate that." Matthew shifted his body so that he was looking right at her. Karis smiled at him.

"Why would I mind talking about Sveta?" Karis snuggled up next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. Comfortable, she closed her eyes, though inwardly she felt troubled.

"Because of your feelings for me." Karis's eyes shot open immediately, withdrawing from Matthew quickly. Her first response was to act shocked, surprised by the notion, but she quickly thought otherwise and wound up with a stupid gawking expression. She rectified it as fast as she could, composing herself. "I should've realized earlier that talking about Sveta bothered you. You fell silent every time I brought her up."

"When exactly..." Karis chose her words carefully, her heart beating quickly. "did you figure out that I had feelings for you?" Subconsciously she found herself glancing down at his lips, berating herself mentally when she caught it.

Matthew chuckled, a slight smirk on his face. "You aren't exactly subtle. Holding my hand whenever you get the chance, not wanting to talk about Sveta, all those little looks you keep giving me." Karis already figured out was his answer was. She knew she hadn't been careful hiding it – indeed, she'd been the exact opposite. "And it's only made worse by my natural sense of people. I'm a Venus adept; we're just good at reading people."

"I remember my dad mentioning that." Karis nodded, still flustered, "Venus adepts are the most in tune with humanity itself and thus can sense emotions. If only I was a Lemurian, that wouldn't work on me. I didn't realize you could tell romantic interest, though."

"It's not a clear ability," Matthew shrugged. "If you liked me but didn't make yourself open about it, I probably wouldn't have noticed."

Suddenly it made sense. Karis had been incredibly shy around Matthew for most of her life growing up. Well, either shy or incredibly bossy. When she wasn't avoiding him or ordering him around, she probably didn't show much honest emotion around him. The would explain him not catching on until now.

"I..." Karis bit her lip. "This must be embarrassing for you. I'm sorry." She started to get up, intending to sit elsewhere. She felt her face reddening with embarrassment.

"Wait!" Matthew reached over, grabbing her wrist. Karis spun as Matthew stood up next to her. "You don't have to be embarrassed about this. I don't mind."

"But you don't return it." Karis couldn't look him in the eye. Her head was whirling, thoughts running rampant throughout her skull. It was almost too fast to keep track of, but she felt one single desire despite the subterfuge.

"That doesn't mean-" Karis interrupted him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him. She felt Matthew recoil slightly in shock, not really moving much from the surprise, but eventually he relaxed, wrapping his arms around her. After a little while longer – a sweet, happy experience, though painfully short from Karis's perspective – Matthew panicked, pushing Karis away. Karis opened her eyes slowly, savoring the moment, but when she did, Matthew almost looked scared.

"What?" He seemed completely bewildered. "Was that your tongue?" Karis nodded, a coy smile gracing her lips. "I... I can't believe I returned that. A moment ago I thought that- that-" He shook his head. "Just give me a moment."

He turned away from her, his back facing her, his hands running through his hair. His hair was extremely soft. Karis thought to herself, with no small sense of satisfaction. She was slightly worried about Matthew seeming freaked out – he had been so into the kiss, though not at first.

"We have to talk about this." Matthew spun back towards her, leaning against the same tree as before. He pushed his hair up and out of his eyes, gazing at her with those pretty blue eyes of his. "When I brought all this up, I wasn't expecting you to..." Her shook his head. "To kiss me."

"You didn't seem to hate it." Karis was aware of the certain seductive tone of her voice. She walked to Matthew, pressing against his chest with hers, her hands grabbing at the front of his shirt with a certain feeling of urgency. "If anything, you were kissing as much as I was. You-" Pause. "liked it."

"That's what I'm nervous about!" Matthew brushed her off, scooting Karis to the side and walking past her. "I-I want Sveta! She's my-"

"You wanted me just a moment ago." Karis put a hand on her waist, annoyed, her mood suddenly lost. "You weren't fighting your feelings for me very much when you were shoving your tongue down my throat."

"I know!" Matthew said, loudly, before leaning against a tree, sliding slowly to the ground. "Light be damned, I wasn't thinking about Sveta at all when you-" He stopped himself, and Karis could see how bothered he was by the entire incident. "When I kissed you back."

"There's a reason I don't like you talking about Sveta," Karis bit her lip, unsure about letting her feelings bare. "I'm jealous; I always have been. Of what you and her have. I mean," She gripped the fabric of her shirt over her heart subconsciously. "I've known you longer, I've wanted you longer, so why her? Why choose her over me if you knew about how I felt, if you returned how I felt?" Karis fell against another tree, sliding down it much the same as Matthew had. Suddenly she felt upset, frustrated and, above all, stupid. She shouldn't have kissed him. "Sorry, Matthew."

"It's okay, Karis." Matthew shook his head. "Let me just collect my thoughts about this. I need some time to think."

Karis didn't reply.

They didn't speak the rest of the night.

o

She's very ill, my liege.

Images swirled around her, dreamlike and transient. Sveta felt herself tossing and turning, somehow aware of being confined to a bed, but conscious of little else. She drifted in and out of semi-wakefulness, a painful time where she could not escape the burning sensation in her arms. But the dreams were worse.

Sleep was where the true pain lay.

She'd wander in the dark, wondering where the light had gone, only to fall through the floor and wind up nowhere. Alone. Intensely, utterly alone. She had nobody.

She'd fight off demons in black metal, werewolves and beings made of pure light, shouting all the while, a deep terror clinging to her. Someone was calling her name, but when she turned, all went dark.

She'd be gone, nowhere near, as she saw Matthew, his sweet smile and golden hair, his eyes the color of sky. Calling his name, but he didn't respond. Instead a flash of green, and there was another in his arms.

On and on these visions tormented her, only to wake into a physical pain that blocked out all else. Time passed; she did not know how much. All she could do was shout, scream, and be silent.

Will she be okay?

I don't know. At this rate...

Eventually the mud and darkness became clearer, and once, she felt her eyes open. A man sat there, sunset light from some window cast over him, setting the dust in the air afire. He was beautiful, in some odd, long-forgotten way; elegant and surreal. His eyes burned like the sun, long white hair falling from a near-human face. When he saw her eyes open, he smiled sweetly, placing his hand on her cheek with a gentleness she felt she'd only known from one person.

"Father..." She barely whispered, before slipping back into unconsciousness.

It felt like a long time before she woke, but when she did, the pain was no longer gone. She felt lucid, and oddly healthy. Sveta sat up in bed, the sheets falling off her top half, looking about the room she was in – it was familiar. Her parents quarters, which had become Volechek's room. Somehow predictably, a beastwoman in white sat at a desk nearby, pouring over some papers. She was the personal nurse for the rulers of Belinsk, a woman Sveta knew well. She hadn't heard Sveta wake.

When surveying her surroundings, Sveta suddenly realized she was naked. A quick glance under the covers confirmed this. Just under her bare breasts were a few bandages wrapped around her torso, and when Sveta shifted her body to cover herself, she saw bandages covering her wrists and part of her forearm.

Bandages on my chest for a broken rib, most likely one of the bottom ones. Bandages on my wrists from those long gashes. She remembered the appearance of them, long and vertical, running the length of her forearm, maybe a centimeter or more deep in places. Somehow it felt surreal that she had been so dedicated to escaping prison that she'd been willing to nearly mutilate herself.

Prison. She remembered the cold, damp place, and all the pain associated with it. It was very unlike the lush royal quarters, where there were silks and fancy furniture everywhere. A familiar face was brought to mind, the smiling cat, Julius. She shivered, recalling the vague memories she had of her last moments in prison.

I can't remember much. What exactly did he do to me? I wake up naked, with no idea how I got here. He could have done anything he wanted to me, and I wouldn't even know. She felt bile rise in her throat as she thought of Julius' hand running up her inner thigh. Leaning over the side of the bed, she vomited onto some expensive-looking carpet.

"You're awake!" The nurse instantly turned towards her. Fran, that's her name. "Oh dear," She stood quickly, rushing to Sveta and pushing her gently back onto the bed. "Relax. Do you know where you are?"

"Belinsk Castle. My parent's room." Sveta replied, wiping her mouth of the vomit dribbling down her chin with one arm and covering herself with the other. She knew this woman and trusted her, having effectively grown up alongside her – they were about the same age, and had been friends in childhood as Fran's mother was her parent's personal nurse – but after the events of the prison, she didn't exactly feel comfortable exposing herself, even if to a girl she used to bathe with, and who had likely been the one to undress her in the first place.

"That's good." Fran said, nodding hopefully. "What about your name? Do you remember your name?"

"Of course I do, it's Sveta." She gave an annoyed look at the nurse, "And yours is Fran. Francesca of House DeBouille, third generation. Your mother was my parent's doctor, and we were friends as children. My head is fine."

"Alright, alright. I get it." Fran nodded, standing, then walking to find something to clean the vomit with. As she walked away, Sveta couldn't help but notice the sway in her hips. She was an attractive girl, Sveta thought, with shoulder-length brown hair and deep brown eyes. "I was very worried when Vande and Heath brought you to me. You were very close to death."

"How so?" Sveta asked, "From the infection?" Or... Julius? Another wave of sickness.

"Numerous injuries." Fran shook her head sadly, finally finding a bucket of water with a rag next to some medical supplies nearby. "You had a concussion from some head trauma – not a severe one, thankfully, though it seemed like it had been present for a while. The wounds on your arms had been infected pretty badly, and I feared having to amputate. Luckily, that wasn't necessary." She stopped by the rug, wiping the throw-up without complaint. Sveta started getting out of bed to help her, but Fran ushered her back in. "No, no, stay in bed. You're too naked to walk around, and you need rest even now."

"Can I have some clothes, at least?" Sveta asked. Fran thought for a moment, then nodded, rushing to a nearby dresser. It had been one of Sveta's mother's. Volechek had never been able to discard his parents belongings, no matter how trivial. Fran handed her a simple, loose-fitting white cloth shirt that was large enough to hang over one shoulder and light brown cloth pants.

"No underwear?" Sveta asked. Fran laughed.

"Do you really want to wear your mother's underwear?" Sveta chuckled, shaking her head as she pulled on the pants first, careful to position herself so that Fran could only see the side of her body as she got dressed. Why do I feel so self-conscious about my body around her? Because of Julius? Sveta guessed it was unimportant regardless of its source. She had larger problems. Once they were on, Sveta stood up, moving about a bit. The clothes were larger than she was – her mother hadn't been quite the same size as Sveta – but they fit well enough. It was odd to wear normal clothing, however. She was so used to armor when traveling, and for the past few weeks, she'd been wearing dirty nightclothes over underwear in that dank, damp prison.

"How long was I out?" Sveta finally asked, waltzing over to a nearby dresser. There was a small portrait of her mother there, standing next to a man in armor, presumably her father, though the head was ripped off of the picture. "And why am I not in a prison? I thought I was overthrown by the Tuaparang."

"So that's what they're called..." She heard Fran mumble. "Two weeks, I think. The days have been a bit fuzzy for me lately. I've been taking care of you virtually day and night."

"Thank you for that," She smiled at Fran appreciatively, "Did anyone visit me?" She thought of the memory of the man she called father in her dream, with eyes like the sun. She couldn't recall the face. "Like a man with long white hair?"

"No," Fran shook her head, hurrying back over to Sveta, grabbing her shoulder. "You really should lie down. The wounds on your arms may still reopen, and I'd hate for you to bleed on your mother's clothing."

"It's fine, I-" Sveta started, only to be interrupted by the door slamming open. Men in black metal armor filed into the room, standing at ready. Tuaparang soldiers, though they didn't seem interested in fighting for once.

"How did he already know you were awake?" She heard Fran mutter, but Sveta was quickly distracted by the sound of heavy footsteps and clanking of metal.

A monster walked into the room behind the soldiers. Eight feet tall, with snow-white fur and vicious orange eyes. Long and dangerous-looking battle scars ran up and down the beast's bare chest, even running onto the wolf-man's face, giving him a hideously scarred appearance. The brute was ugly, to say the least, but with bulging muscles and a massive sword strapped to his back, the sheath slung over his shoulder. A pair of elegant royal purple pants covered his lower half, though they seemed too proper and out-of-place to be worn by this thing. Sveta was almost overwhelmed by his presence, even twenty feet away. Might and charisma seemed to ooze out of the beastman, with a certain unspeakable brutality that Sveta couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"You awaken, princess." The thing spoke, "I am Heath, King of Belinsk. You seem in fine health."

Behind Heath and to the right, a familiar golden-furred man stood in black armor, though without the helmet, separating the man from the rest of the unknowable troops in the group. Vande didn't so much as look at Sveta.

Behind her, Sveta felt Fran kneel. Sveta simply stared. "The queen still lives. Why do you style yourself as ruler?"
"Do you think yourself in a position to rule, sweet one?" Heath growled the words, but his wicked maw remained smiling, as much as a wolf could, at least. "But no matter, you are healed, it would seem. You are ready."

"Ready for what?" Sveta narrowed her eyes and lowered her ears in suspicion.

"Why, didn't DeBouille tell you?" Heath laughed, a deep, sonorous thing that echoed through the walls and made them shake. "Your execution."

Sveta tried to respond, but found no words would come.

o

Karis shot awake, sweating and flustered, sighing in relief for wakefulness as she gazed up at the morning sky, her face still red from the dream she just had. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. To be honest, she had no idea he'd react the way he did the night before. Karis had pretty much been convinced he'd immediately shove her away, shocked by her impurity and the violation of his own feelings for Sveta. But no, he kissed her back.

He kissed me back.

Of course, he pushed her away eventually, and hadn't talked to her since. In sleep, her mind had wandered towards the more primal side of her. Embarrassed, she tried to remove the images that had been burned into her, ones both alluring and incredibly embarrassing.

"You're awake," Karis turned. Matthew was standing a few feet away, looking down at her, his arms crossed, a troubled expression on his face. "That's good."

"Yeah." Karis responded awkwardly. "Good. So... uh... how's your morning?"

"Why did you kiss me?" Matthew said suddenly, catching Karis off guard. He had a tendency of getting straight to the point. She fumbled with her words for a moment before replying.

"Because I like you." She said finally, standing and looking him straight in the eye. "And I know you like me too. Otherwise you wouldn't have kissed me back."
"I know," Matthew gritted his teeth. "Karis, I know. I've had feelings for you for a long time, but when I met Sveta, it was just different, and-" He stopped himself. "I need to sort all this out, okay?" He started walking away, leaving his stuff behind in the camp.

"Wait!" Karis called, running up to him. He turned and she pressed her hands against the sides of his face as she kissed him for the second time, though this time felt more natural and somehow more emotional than the last. When they broke, she gave him a friendly smile, or as much as she could manage in this conflicted state. "Take as much time as you need Matthew. Don't worry about it."

"Karis-" He started, but he couldn't finish his sentence.

The reason being that a ball of fire chose that moment to rip through the air, screaming overhead and crashing somewhere in the forest east of them. Matthew and Karis were nearly sent sprawling by the shock-waves radiating outwards from the impact site. When they regained their bearings, all it took was a nod and they were off running towards it, their weapons at the ready. Matthew's Sol Blade shone gold in the morning sun as they rushed through the trees.

What they found was a large crater, perhaps fifty feet across, a ball of black iron nestled in the center, still smoking. Cautiously, they edged their way down the sides of the crater; steep, but just shallow enough to manage if they were careful. Matthew slid the final few feet, banging on the sides of the black ball.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that." Karis cautiously stated, inspecting the ball from a few feet away. "You can't know what's in it. Could be hostile."

"Nonsense." Matthew placed a hand on the mysterious object, closing his eyes and letting psynergy flow out of him. "It doesn't feel hostile at all."

As if in answer to Matthew's question, the side opposite of Karis burst open suddenly, a large, squarish segment of the ball flying off, upwards and out of the crater. Matthew ran around to the opening, his jaw dropping in shock when he peered inside.

"What? What is it, Matthew?" Karis called, running to meet him.

"Mom!?" Matthew shouted, stepping back as Jenna stepped out of the ball proudly, soot blackening her face and a triumphant smile on her face.

"Hey kiddo!" Jenna ruffled his hair fondly, a jubilant expression on her face. "Where in the world am I now?" A quick look around. "I guess it doesn't matter since I landed safely. Or," She glanced down at her hands, "Not."

Her eyes rolled back up into her head and she slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Author's Note:

JamesK716: I am thankful for your enthusiasm. :P The thought issues was a result of all the italics being pressed together by the uploader. I failed to catch that problem, so no, it wasn't intentional. I've alluded to some more of the pairings in this chapter, and Tyrell is mentioned as being back in the Goma Plateau, specifically Lookout Cabin. He had decided to stay there in an earlier chapter, and I realized that I guess I hadn't been clear enough about that, so I added a few lines about it in this chapter.

I wonder how you'll react to the KarisxMatthew bits in this chapter.

jollygreendragon: I already responded to the second half of your review in a pm, so I'll just focus on your review half here. :P I consider myself a scenery minimalist, if anything, since I've always found it kinda ridiculous how in-depth people will go into detail. Some author's do it very well (James Joyce wrote like three pages about a train in Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man, I believe. Or maybe it was a flower. I read that a while ago), but many don't. I include myself in the latter list, so I keep things minimal. Don't expect any scenery porn. :P

Sveta's probably my favorite to write, actually, which is much different from Risen, where she was my least favorite. Not sure where that changed. She is, in my opinion, the most solid female character out of all of Dark Dawn. Also, if anything, Sveta's not taking the hit of separating from Matthew as hard as he is. To me, this is understandable, since she's been nearly raped and thrown in prison and all that good stuff, while he's just meandering through the countryside with Karis.

Haha. Ivan. Ha.