This story takes place during the gap year between The Named, and The Dark. I really enjoyed writing this one, which could be why it's a little lengthy. I hope you enjoy it as well! If the mood strikes you, I would love a review. I'll keep writing without them, but they do make it a little more fun.

"Johannes Gutenberg, safe and sound. Excellent work. The Order may now target some of his contemporaries. Dritzehn, or Heilmann, may also be in danger soon enough."

I wonder if he'll be there.

This thought pierces the silence of my octagonal chamber, formerly occupied only by my own voice, where I am currently monitoring the results of the latest mission. I immediately recognize this thought as Isabel's. I hone in on her location, and try to detect another presence with her, but hear no other thoughts. I can almost always hear Ethan's restless mind on the way up the mountain to see me. He has never quite been able to master blocking his thoughts from Truthseers, despite my insistence that this may one day prove dangerous.

I wave my hand over the sphere in the center of the room, displaying a German workshop, and it fades into a new image. I now see Isabel making her way through the trees and up the mountain, towards my secret door. As I suspected, and in true Isabel fashion, she is walking alone. I breathe an irritated sigh at this. She knows full well how risky walking alone can be lately, what with tensions ever rising between the two Immortals.

Another thought interrupts my reverie.

He's probably somewhere in the Citadel, coordinating a mission…

Not a bad idea. I consider this, and wonder if I should let her believe that she is right. I could open the hidden door in the rock face, and then use my wings to transport to the Citadel, or anywhere. Anywhere else but here, where I will have to face Isabel.

It isn't that I don't care for her company, and it isn't that I don't want to see her. In fact, it is quite the opposite. And that is exactly why I know I should avoid this meeting. Just as travelling alone is becoming riskier for members of the Guard, being alone with Isabel is becoming riskier for me.

I guess if he isn't there, I could always go to the gym, or train on the mountain.

The truth is that, in spite of myself, I cannot quell a glimmer of happiness that she is coming to my chambers, and apparently thinking of me. It stirs up hope that she could possibly return the feelings that I have for her; feelings that she has held for Ethan for so long. I know that I shouldn't want this, and that nothing good can come of this attachment, but I have felt strangely drawn to her ever since our first meeting. I often have to remind myself of my reasoning behind keeping her at arm's length. Discovering that she is my soul-mate only confirmed what I have known all along: I can only hurt her by encouraging a relationship between us.

She is very near the door now, and I know that time is running out to decide my course of action. I try to detach myself from my emotions, and think about the situation logically. What would I do if Isabel was any other member of the Guard? She could be coming here for something important, such as a concern about a mission, or the discovery of her second skill. To ignore her could be detrimental to her safety. Not only that, but to pretend to be elsewhere when I know full well she is coming here borders on extreme rudeness. I decide that my only real option is to see her.

As she reaches the wall of the mountain, I open the door, and hear relief in her thoughts.

To have come all this way for nothing would have been so embarrassing.

I hear her walking down the passage way, towards the room that I am occupying. I hold my breath in nervous anticipation, and then release it when I realize how pathetic my behavior is. Isabel is an esteemed and talented member of the Guard, and one who I am prophesized to fight alongside in a final battle against all evil. My childish crush pales in comparison to this. I silently chastise my foolishness, and mutter a colloquialism that has no doubt rubbed off on me from Ethan. "Get a grip."

When Isabel enters the room and sees me, she smiles shyly, and my heart melts. "Hello, Arkarian."

Doing my very best to respond in a way befitting of someone my age and rank, I say, "Welcome, Isabel. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Your solo visit, I notice."

At my criticism, her smile falters, and her eyes drop from my face, to the ground. I mentally kick myself, and I quickly soften my demeanor. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course. You're always welcome."

She smiles again at my words, and I do as well. I really cannot help it. She simply triggers feelings of happiness within me, which I cannot change, much as I might try. Coming here alone, despite warnings against it, is typical of her headstrong behavior, which I find as endearing as it is frustrating.

To my growing shame, I realize that I have to make a conscious effort not to sweep my gaze over her figure. She is in form hugging workout attire, leaving much of her toned body exposed. Her blond hair is pulled back in a plait. She is slightly out of breath, and I can see a few beads of sweat on her brow and chest. Although I know she would never believe me, she is, in a word, beautiful.

Through my contemplation, I realize that Isabel is providing an explanation for her presence here. "I came to use one of the training rooms. I tried to get Ethan to come with me, but Mr. Carter kept him late for detention after he mouthed off in class. Something about 'a lack of respect towards his superiors'."

"I wish I could say this surprises me, but Ethan's disobedience is known far and wide." She laughs at this, and I add, "Much like your own stubbornness, which no doubt is why you decided to brave the mountain on your own." She blushes, but she can tell I am teasing her. She must know that I am incapable of truly chastising her.

The conversation comes to a halt, leaving us in silence. She is still smiling at me, and I hold her gaze. The lull drags on for a few moments longer than is comfortable, and her lips curve downward, her eyebrows lifting slightly. I clench my jaw, and swallow hard, hoping she cannot hear it. These awkward pauses seem to arise with increasing frequency lately, and I sometimes muse that they are the result of denying our obvious connection. How natural it would feel to fill this silence with a declaration of love, or a kiss. But for all I know she sees me as merely a friend. Worst of all, I sometimes fear that she sees me only as a sage old man; as a bearer of news and upcoming missions. Ethan, a true friend to her in a capacity that I can never be, would be a far better target for her affections.

Thinking of Isabel and Ethan together sends me into a slight panic, and before I can stop myself, I am searching her mind for any hint of her feelings.

His eyes. Look at those eyes.

This brief snippet is all I perceive before I realize what I am doing, and pull back. I have no right to invade her mind. Instead, I turn towards the exit, breaking the moment. I gesture for her to follow me with a wave of my hand. "Shall I lead you to an available training room?"

She takes a minute to collect herself, running a hand through her hair before remembering that it is tied back. Her face flushes again, but she nods and follows me out of the room all the same.

I lead her down the dimly lit hallway, past a multitude of doors. Although she and Ethan will occasionally train in my chambers, the rooms are so numerous and ever changing, that she would surely become lost if I didn't lead her to the correct door.

Although I was initially upset at her coming here alone, I am now glad that she has come here to train in a safe room, rather than opting for the mountainside, or a mortal gym. The mountainside alone would certainly be too dangerous, and a young girl in as excellent shape as she would draw too much attention to herself among average gym goers. I chance a quick glance at her walking behind me, and a sense of pride fills me. Not that I have much to do with Isabel's physical talents and drive. Those are all her own.

We eventually halt outside one of the larger training rooms, and I pull the door open to admit her. It is full of workout equipment that one might find in any gym, along with many sections for sword fighting, archery, and various other forms of combat that one might need as a time traveler. There is also a quiet space for meditation, meant to foster the development of one's paranormal skills.

As Isabel enters the room, she gives it a sweeping look and mutters, "Wow. This is really something." She then turns to me, and says, "You've really been holding out on me, haven't you, Arkarian?"

I laugh at her words, and at how accurate they are in a way that is quite different from their intended meaning. Before I can dwell too much on this, I decide it would be prudent to let her get on with her training. I force my voice into a neutral, professional manner. "You may use this room for as long as you like. It should meet all your requirements. I'll be in my center chamber for a while longer, should you need me for anything, but I will most likely be gone by the time you leave. I trust you remember the way out?"

"Down the hallway 'til I can see the light of day, correct?"

"You've got it." And with that, I take my leave of the room, probably more quickly than is strictly necessary.

Once back in my chambers, I focus on a few minutes of meditative breathing to center my mind, and then turn my attention back to the holographic sphere, now showing Seneca Falls, New York, on July 15th, 1848. There are plans to sabotage the upcoming Seneca Falls Convention, an influential women's rights gathering. This is Isabel's next mission, during which she will be accompanied by Ethan, and so it is in everyone's best interest that I give it my undivided attention. For a while, I succeed, until I hear Isabel's thoughts drifting down the hall towards me.

Forward, back, thrust. Move. No! My footwork is all over the place. One more time…

I can tell that she has chosen to train with the swords, and although I know her to be a talented swordswoman, her thoughts tell me that she believes otherwise. My mind begins to wander to the day that Marduke was killed. Unbidden memories surface of the moment I shared with Isabel before this battle. I gave her my sword, previously passed onto me by Gawain, enchanted to fit the hand of the one who would do it proud. She told me then that she was not very good with a sword, though she had proven herself in battle on more than one occasion.

My mind drifts further still, flashing through a multitude of interactions with Isabel that could have been something more, if not for the fact that we live in separate worlds. I recall the first time I met her face to face, and how fascinated she was by my appearance. At the time, she had no idea I had full access to her thoughts about me. Next, I remember calling her back from the middle world, and the enormous relief I felt when she responded to my voice, followed by the crushing effect of having to pretend it was Ethan who saved her.

I soon realize that I cannot focus on my task so long as Isabel is here, and I resign myself to doing what I have wanted to do from the moment she arrived. I wave my hand over the sphere so that it goes dark. I then walk back down the hallway, and towards the training room she is using. I cannot be with her, but that does not mean I cannot enjoy her friendship.

When I enter the room, she has her back to me, and is carrying out a warm up routine. She moves forward and sideways, apparently evading an imaginary opponent. Her form and agility are good, though all the while, I hear her frustrated thoughts.

That still isn't the right stance. One more try. Get it right.

I watch her do her routine for a minute or two, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Now that I am here, what do I say? What reason do I have to be here? I suppose that I could join in her training. Surely she would not object to that. She is competitive by nature, and perhaps my participation will relieve some of the insecurities her thoughts are emanating. Just as I step forward to make this offer, however, another thought drifts my way.

It isn't as if he would want to see you. He's busy. It makes sense. Stop thinking about it.

This stops me in my tracks, and I consider what I heard. Do these thoughts pertain to me? All signs point to the affirmative, but as an experienced Truthseer, I have learned well the dangers of assuming you know too much about another's thoughts out of context. Even so, if she is thinking about me, it seems that I have hurt her feelings by the coldness I displayed earlier.

It's silly. It's childish. Stop thinking about it. Just stop.

This thought is punctuated by a particularly aggressive thrust, one that I would not like to be at the receiving end of. She is clearly frustrated by something or someone, and I quickly realize these are not thoughts she would want me to hear.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that there is a very good reason for me to be here training with her. There is a key aspect of her training that Ethan was not able to help her perfect. I, however, am more than capable.

"Isabel." My voice startles her, and she screams, spinning around with her sword in hand, pointed directly at me. I lift my hands, and say, "Excellent reflexes, but I assure you that I am unarmed."

She relaxes, and gives a shaky laugh through her unsteady breath, ragged from her workout. She puts the sword down on the rack that it came from. "Come here to make sure I'm doing your sword justice?"

Her mention of the very sword I was just thinking of has me inwardly glowing. Although it is a small bond between us, not nearly equivalent to the one I long for, I take happiness where I can find it.

"I have no doubt that you are the sword's worthy owner. I have, however, come to offer my assistance in another aspect of your training. One other than sword fighting."

She moves closer to me, turns her body sideways, and lift her hands up in fists, one in front her face, and one by her chest. "Come to spar, perhaps? I warn you, my adrenaline is still pumping from the heart attack you just gave me."

I must admit that the idea of getting close enough to Isabel for a sparring session does sound tempting. I resist, however, and lift my hands to hers, lowering her arms. "I was thinking more along the lines of mental training. More specifically, teaching you how to block your thoughts from Truthseers."

Her face turns the color of blood, and I am bombarded with memories of past thoughts that I have been privy to against her wishes. She recalls meeting me for the first time, and how she appraised my strange appearance, as well as my body, quite favorably. She remembers wondering if I had a girlfriend during our few next meetings. She then moves on to seeing me in my silver tunic in Athens, before she finally collects herself, and manages to somewhat control her mind. While these thoughts are all very flattering, I try not to read too much into them. For all I know, they are simply the fleeting thoughts physical attraction, and nothing more.

I make no mention of Isabel's unruly thoughts, except to say, "I am sure you appreciate the necessity of this skill. You never know when a member of the Order may be prying into your brain."

She explains, "Ethan did teach me a few basics, but further training always seemed to get neglected. Our focus was mostly on various types of fighting, and how to make judgment calls during complicated missions. I guess with everything that happened at the start of my apprenticeship, this didn't really seem like a priority. Sometimes I wish my training wasn't so rushed. There's still so much I don't know."

"And so much that you do," I assure her. "You are one of our most talented members. Do no doubt it. But as there is always room for improvement, I thought I would offer you my services."

She nods seriously and says, "Well, I'm all for it, Arkarian. Ethan has never been much good at this himself. I might as well learn from the master."

"So you are to be my apprentice for a short while," I say with a grin.

"I promise not to tell Ethan when I inevitably end up being your favorite. It would crush him."

I lead her to a section of the room set apart from the rest, enclosed by a light, sheer curtain. I draw it back, and motion for her to enter. She does so, and looks around, assessing the space. Unlike the gymnasium type floor in the rest of the training room, this section has floors of stained wood, and walls painted a gentle, pale blue. It is dimly lit, and furnished sparsely with a few pillows and stools. She nods in approval, and says "Very Zen. Are we meditating?"

"Not quite," I reply, "But the calming environment makes it ideal for training the mind. Blocking one's thoughts works best when one is at ease."

"That makes sense. Ethan always tells me he has trouble with it when he's worked up. And that's pretty much constantly," she adds with a laugh. "Where do we begin?"

I don't want to patronize her by teaching her what she already knows and so I ask, "What exactly have you worked on with Ethan?"

She thinks for a minute, and says, "Well, not much. He's told me that it can sometimes help to picture a wall in front of the thoughts that I don't want to transmit."

"Well, yes, although the visualization is only scratching the surface. It is a solid image that can help you conceptualize what you're doing, until it begins to feel natural."

She pulls a stray hair behind her ear, and considers my words. "Alright, I get that. So how do I know if I'm doing it right?"

"That is where I come in." I take her by the elbow, and guide her to one of the larger pillows in the center of the room. "Take a seat, and get comfortable. Take a few calming breaths, and focus your mind. Aim for complete serenity."

She settles into a sitting position, while I remain standing in front of her. She closes her eyes, and focuses.

Complete serenity. Be calm. In and out. In and out.

"Right now, I can hear the thoughts running through your mind. I can hear you concentrating on breathing evenly. Now, do the same thing, but attempt to close off your thoughts to me. Visualize a wall, if that helps."

She keeps her eyes closed, and her breathing steady, but her brow furrows slightly in increased concentration. I probe her mind to monitor her progress.

In and out. In and out… Out… In… In… Out…

"Good. I can still hear your thoughts, but they are broken, and less coherent. This is a step in the right direction."

She opens her eyes, a slightly frustrated look gracing her features. "The wall thing doesn't really feel natural. I can't see how I'm supposed to do this in everyday situations."

I offer her another method that some people find more effective. "Try to think of the way your thoughts sound in your mind. As you think, you hear your own voice speaking in your head to some degree, correct?" She nods is assent, and I continue. "Try to think of these thoughts as echoes. When you think about something, or someone, these thoughts are transmitted towards it, or them. You are broadcasting your thoughts outward, like throwing a stone in a cave. What I hear are the echoes. For you to block these thoughts from me, you must think without broadcasting. So, to carry on this imperfect analogy, you must throw the stone softly enough so as not to create an echo. Are you with me so far?"

"I think so. I sort of have to think more quietly."

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It might help you to think of your normal thoughts as resonant. When you hear your own thoughts, hear how they echo inside your head. When you want to block your thoughts, try to hear them as flat, as if your head is a sound proof room."

She begins to rock back and forth on her pillow, and scowls. "This is a lot to take in at one time, but I'm trying to think of when I was getting my black belt, and how important it was to focus the mind. That didn't come easily for me at first either. Definitely not as easily as the physical moves."

"We all have different aptitudes for things. This will come with patience and persistence. Shall we see if this method is more successful than the first?"

She nods her head, and closes her eyes again. She practices in silence for a few minutes more, and while she has some success in making her thoughts less readable, I can still hear every few words.

About half an hour passes, and the crease between her brows is significantly deeper. I can tell she is becoming impatient, probably not used to having to make such an effort to learn new things. The physical inactivity seems to be getting to her as well.

In… Out… Out… Conc… Stop… Concen… Focus… Concentrate…

When I hear her broken thoughts become more coherent, I interrupt her. "Isabel, you mustn't be hard on yourself. You've made a great deal of progress in only one sitting." She opens her eyes, sighs heavily, and shoots me a skeptical look. I try to put her feelings into perspective. "Remember the effort you had to put forward before you could use your healing on call. Trust that this skill will develop, as that one did."

I can tell she isn't satisfied with this, and I know her well enough by now to know that she will probably keep trying for some time yet before she is ready to quit. She rises from her pillow, and begins pacing around the room. "I think I'm thinking too much into it. Like you said, while I was learning to heal, I couldn't do it on call straight away. Like when I healed Ethan's face after my brother hit him, I wasn't trying to heal it. It just… happened."

"I remember. You felt guilty about what had happened, and your emotions unconsciously willed the wound to heal.

"Exactly. I think this is similar. I can't try too hard to make it happen; I just have to get comfortable in the correct frame of mind."

It's a good theory, and something that has worked for her in the past. There is only one flaw. "How do we get you in this frame of mind, without overly arousing your emotions? That will only hinder the blocking of your thoughts."

She stops her pacing, and lands directly in front of me, hand on her hip, and sporting her trademark look of determination. "That is where you come in."

I only have to wonder what she means for a moment, before she mentally fills me in on the plan. "Ah. I see where you're going with this. You want me to use my… what did you call them a moment ago… 'magic wizard powers' to make you calm?"

She buries her face in her hands. "You see? Embarrassing thoughts like that are precisely why I need your help mastering this!"

"Of course you realize," I explain, "that the calm that I can manufacture in others is not true calmness. You will still have to learn how to find this on your own."

She groans. "Yes, I know, oh sage and wise trainer, but I think this would help me know what I'm aiming for. Just this once?" She looks up at me with her expressive brown eyes, and I have no choice but to comply.

"Alright, oh stubborn and insubordinate apprentice." She smiles at this. "Are you ready?"

She nods, stands up straighter, closes her eyes, and says, "Work your magic."

I consider the best way to do this. The ability to transmit calming feelings to others is a skill that I've always had, and all it takes is one touch. But while I have been known do this frequently when confronted with overwrought Guard members, to do so with Isabel, alone in a dimly lit room, presents unfamiliar challenges. For one thing, while she supposes that my touch will have a calming effect on her, it will undoubtedly have quite the opposite effect on me. I find myself wondering where the least intimate place to administer this touch would be.

She peeks out at me through one slightly opened eyelid, and I know she is wondering what is taking so long. I put aside my deliberation, and decide to reach out and place my hand on her upper arm. I move to do this, but my hand seems to have its own ideas, and lands closer to her shoulder. She quietly clears her throat, but otherwise remains motionless. I explore her mind to gauge her reaction.

Hm. That's nice.

Nice? I'm not exactly sure what to make of that, and now is probably not the best time to try to decipher the word. Instead, I concentrate on infusing her with peaceful feelings. After a minute, I can see her shoulders lower in relaxation, and I know that she must be feeling the effects of my touch. I keep this up for a bit longer, before I read her thoughts again.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

She is focusing on her breathing again, and while I can hear her thoughts clearly, I can tell that she is more at ease than she was before.

We stand there for another few minutes, and Isabel falls into an almost meditative state of concentration. Every few moments, I probe her mind, and find that the deeper she goes into this trance like state, the less easily I am able to grasp her thoughts. Rather than sounding broken as they did before, they are now steady, but quieter, and less accessible. This is a good sign, as it is a more refined form of thought blocking.

While Isabel continues to work with her eyes shut, I take advantage of the situation, and examine her in a way that I have never been able to before. I notice little details, like the fact that her blond hair has darker undertones to it. I realize that her natural hair color is slightly darker, but all her time spent outside has lightened it. I also notice how her mouth is parted ever so slightly in concentration. My eyes are drawn to her lips, pink and alluring without the help of makeup. Now that I think of it, she never wears any makeup at all. While I believe this lets her natural beauty shine through, I'm sure that she simply finds makeup to be too much trouble. She prides herself in her skills and talents more than her looks.

My eyes drift lower to where my hand is touching her arm. I wonder how should would react if I moved. Without giving myself a chance to consider the wisdom of my next move, I begin to move my thumb up and down, gently stroking her skin. She makes a small sound, almost like a whimper, but does not open her eyes. I then move my hand further upwards, until it rests at the crook of her neck. She leans into my hand, so slight a movement that I'm not sure she is aware of her reaction. Only when I move my hand further still to cup her cheek does she finally open her eyes to look at me.

My breath catches in my throat, and I'm suddenly wondering how I let this happen. My hand is caressing her face in a way that it most certainly too intimate for mere friends. She leans her face upward, and shifts almost imperceptibly closer to me. I have to fight a sudden urge to lower my own face towards hers, towards her slightly parted lips.

We gaze at each other for a few tense moments, and I don't know how to proceed. In a flash, I think of all the reasons that this should not, cannot happen. I remind myself of my youth retention, and the kind of man that she deserves. But, so help me, if she were to move any closer to me right now, my resolve would be out the window.

I wonder if months of unspoken words, and the chemistry that she must feel between us in this moment, have finally come too close to the surface. There may be no way out of this situation unscathed. Does she know this? Does she care? I have to find out.

I reach into her mind for any insight into what she is thinking, but to my surprise, I draw a blank. I take a moment to collect myself, and try again. I search for any shred of thought emanating from her, but I am met with total silence. "Isabel… What are you thinking right now?"

She looks at me in confusion, and backs away slightly. "I… I'm thinking… why? Don't you know?"

I shake my head, and drop my hand from her face. I take a step back for some much needed breathing room. Once again, I search in vain for the familiar sound of Isabel's inner voice. Nothing. "Isabel, you've done it! Your mind is completely silent. Not a single errant thought!"

Her eyes widen as she realizes what I'm saying. "You mean you really can't hear me? You're not lying to make me feel better?"

I raise my hand in a mock salute. "Truthmaster's honor."

Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops. She is momentarily stunned into silence, then let's out a squeal, and jumps up into the air, arms raised in victory. "I finally did it! I can't believe it!"

Her joy is infectious, and I can't help but be excited for her. "Congratulations, Isabel. Just don't get too excited, or your thoughts might burst out of your head even with your new skill."

She manages to still herself, but still wears a wide smile. "Thank you so much, Arkarian. Wait until Ethan hears. He will be so jealous of your superior training abilities. I have to go tell him."

She dashes to the door, but then stops, turns back around, and runs towards me with her arms held out. She envelops me in a hug, and I wrap my arms around her, enjoying her close proximity for as long as she will allow. When she pulls back from our embrace, she looks embarrassed, and quickly makes her way back to the exit. Before leaving however, she turns around once more, and says with a small smile, "Maybe now I can finally look you in the eyes without completely humiliating myself."

She goes, leaving me standing here bewildered, asking myself how I got into such a wonderful mess.